#so fuck it eight and nine are technically older than five and six this is just HOW IT IS

[archangeldyke-all]

OMGOMG i love baby mommy sevika, but i keep thinking…. what would sevika be like with a kid who isn’t technically hers? like, reader had a child with someone else before even meeting sevika, and she always thought she hated kids and that it was a total dealbreaker for her, until she meets YOUR kid.

i can imagine the awkward first time meeting, tea parties in the living room while you’re making dinner, guarding that kid like her life depends on it when you all go out somewhere, letting them crawl into bed between the both of you when they have a nightmare :(( baby fever is a crazy thing fr.

AWEEEEE

men and minors dni

sevika's obsessed with you. it's pretty obvious.

she's always got her eyes glued to you from where you work behind the bar.

when you talk to her, she's always got a sweet little smile pulling up at the side of her lips as she listens, a sparkle in her eye each time she makes you laugh.

so, you aren't surprised when she asks you out.

you're just... a little hesitant.

"i'm sorry, forget i said anything, this was so stupid of me..." she sulks, turning away and rubbing the back of her neck. you squeak and reach over the bar, grabbing her wrist.

"i'd love to!" you say. she blinks in surprise. "it's just... i have a kid." you say. sevika blinks again.

"what?!" she asks. you laugh and nod.

"...yeah." you say. "i know you aren't really the 'kids' type, so... it's okay if you don't want to go out anymore." you say. sevika blinks again as she takes in the new information.

"since when?" she asks. you laugh.

"she's three and a half now." you say.

"what the fuck? why'd you never tell me?" she asks. you shrug.

"you're always talking about how you hate kids, i figured you wouldn't really be interested in hearing about mine."

"those are other kids, this one's yours! of course i wanna hear about her!" sevika shouts. you grin, then pull her across the bar to kiss her on the lips..

when you pull away, she's blushing.

for your first few dates, it's just you and sevika. you don't want to introduce your kid to anybody until you're certain they'll be around for a long time. she understands. and she absolutely loves spending some one-on-one time with you.

but, the more pictures of your kid you show her, the more stories you tell her about the little girl, the more sevika gets excited to meet her.

and then, about five or six dates in, sevika tells you she's in love with you. and your babysitter has a family emergency, and calls you half way through the date (while you're riding sevika, the both of you moaning 'i love you's against each other's lips) to tell you she's coming back to your apartment with your daughter in tow, and she'll be there in ten minutes.

you don't really get to prepare for any of it-- all you have time to do is pull your pants up and hide sevika's strap before your daughter is bursting through the door with a loud "ma! i'm home!"

at first, sevika's nervous as shit.

but you watch all her hesitation melt when your daughter lights up at the sight of a new friend in her home and starts lobbing her with question after question.

"what's your name!?"

"sevika."

"how old are you?"

"thirty eight."

"woah! that's so much older than me. i'm four!" she exclaims, waggling four fingers in sev's face. sevika chuckles.

"i thought you were still three."

your daughter groans. "i'm three and nine tenths, that's basically four!"

"you're right, i'm sorry." sevika says.

"what's your favorite color?"

"purple?" sevika guesses.

"me too!" your daughter gasps, clambering into sevika's lap. you cringe as you watch it happen, knowing how clammed up sevika gets when it comes to physical affection, especially from kids, but you're shocked when you watch sevika simply wrap an arm around her waist and help her adjust in her lap.

"what's your favorite animal?" sevika asks. your daughter grins.

"rhino!" she says. "it's like a unicorn and a dinosaur had a baby." she says.

"that's a good point." sevika says, smiling sweetly down at your daughter.

all your fears of the two of them meeting evaporate.

from that point on, the two of them are besties.

every time sevika comes over, she immediately searches for your daughter. when you've got her at the sitters, sevika pouts, complaining until you shut her up with kisses.

"i thought you hated kids." you complain one night as you watch sevika play dollhouse with your daughter. (she was supposed to be eating dinner with you on the couch while the two of you watched a movie.)

"yeah, 'cause most kids suck. you've got a real good one here, babe." sevika says, ruffling your daughter's hair, making her giggle.

sometimes, sev will come over to keep your rugrat occupied while you clean or cook or catch up on household chores. she's fucking amazing with her.

you've caught her with various clips in her hair and glitter on her eyes and lips as your daughter plays 'beauty salon' on her. sevika just grins and shrugs, then holds up her nails, all messily painted rainbow, for you to examine. "like my new look?" she asks. you snort.

"you might need some touch-ups, but you're really rocking those bobbles babe." you say, pointing to the little bobbles decorating the tiny ponytails in her hair.

sometimes, you'll catch them playing 'dinosaur', which is just sevika crawling around as your daughter straddles her back, cackling when sevika sits up on her knees and roars.

sevika quickly becomes your daughter's favorite person. when she doesn't come over, your girl pouts, asking you 'where your lady friend' is tonight.

and when she finally moves in with you, sevika becomes the designated 'storybook reader' at bedtime. apparently, she 'does the voices way better than you, ma.'

your daughter calls her 'babe'-- since it's what you're always calling her.

sevika's such a sucker for your girl, always sneaking her candies and eating her veggies off her plate for her, shooting her a wink each time.

and when you're out in public, sevika's always got your girl on her back, giving her a piggyback, and shooting nasty looks at anyone who does a double take at the sight of sevika toting around a squirming, laughing little girl.

one night, the two of you are curled in bed and sevika sighs.

"i never thought i'd love a kid like this." she says. you smile.

"you love her?" you ask. sevika nods.

"so much. it's insane. like... i'd die for the little shit in a heartbeat, y'know?" she asks. you grin and nod, pressing a kiss to her head.

"'s called being a mom." you say. sevika blushes, and you kiss her again.

over time, your girl starts calling sevika 'step-ma sev' or 'silly sevy' or, most commonly, 'stinky sev.'

sevika never complains about her, either. not once. not when she's on a sugar high and screaming while she runs laps around the house, not when she paints on the walls of your and sev's bedroom, not even when she interrupts you and sevika mid-sex to crawl in bed beside you, scared of the monster shaped shadows in her bedroom.

before she proposes to you, she asks your daughter for permission to join your little family. your little girl gives it gladly, but, her being five and all, accidentally ruins the surprise for you.

"'s sev' gonna propose to you when i'm there or is it just a special ma n' sevy thing?" she asks one morning as you're whipping up breakfast.

sevika freezes where she's pouring a glass of orange juice, and you burst into laughter.

"i dunno, baby, do you think you should be there?" you ask your kid. she nods.

"duh! i wanna see the fancy ring!" she says. you giggle.

"you wanna see a fancy ring huh?" you ask, ignoring sevika's stuttering beside you. "come with me." you say, waving your daughter to your bedroom.

when you return, sevika's still frozen in place, and your daughter is giddy with excitement, her hands behind her back.

"stinky sev!" she exclaims. sevika blinks down at her.

"y-yeah?" she asks, nervously.

your daughter thrusts the tiny velvet box in front of her, flipping open the lid, revealing the ring you'd picked out for sevika a few months ago.

"look what my ma got you!" she exclaims.

sevika blinks up at you with tears in her eyes and you shrug, gently taking the ring from your daughter's grip and sevika's hand in yours.

"you wanna be mine forever?" you ask. sevika blinks, tears quickly falling down her cheeks.

"you fucker, i wanted to do it first!" she complains.

"that's a dollar in the curse jar!" your kid exclaims. you both laugh.

"i should warn you before you say yes, though, i'm kinda a package deal with this brat." you say, ruffling your daughter's hair. she giggles.

"hey! i'm not a brat!" she exclaims. and then, when sevika laughs and swoops in to kiss you, "ewwwww!" she cries as she runs away.

sevika chuckles against your lips and you pull away with a smile.

"is that a yes?" you whisper. she nods, her voice too shaky for words.

from the living room your daughter calls for you. "did she say yes ma?"

"she said yes, babe." you call back.

"fuck yes!" she screams.

you and sevika both turn your heads to glare at her for the word.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Number Nine

Chapter One: I Want You All To Myself

AO3 author’s note/info one two three four five six seven eight epilogue extra

All my work is 18+.

I’ve been trying to keep my distance, but in an instant, you break me down. I know better than to want you, but I succumb to you without a doubt. Now the water is rising, and I’m too tired to swim; and my lungs just can’t take it, but I keep breathing you in, so tell me lies, tell me painted truths; anything at all to keep me close to you. Pull me under the way you do; tonight, I wanna drown in an ocean of you.- Martin Garrix & Clinton Kane, Drown

There was a difference between being ashamed of one’s actions and being discreet about them. This was something Lea had learned recently. She hadn’t given the distinction much consideration before, but then she had gotten an additional best friend. 

Lea had two best friends; one made sense and the other—the recent accrual, the one that both required and practiced discretion—did not.

As a broke college student, it made sense for her best friend to be Sam, another broke college student she’d known since they were attending kindergarten at the all-girls school where they’d met in North Carolina.

One could perhaps count her older sister, Lina, as another best friend, and her younger sister, Ari, as a third, but for one, they were her sisters; for two, Ari was in California; and for three, they would’ve made perfect sense.

Lea’s actual other best friend was Tim. This made no sense for several reasons. Firstly, Tim was a guy, and Lea had never had many guys involved in her life, what with the aforementioned all-girls schools and her mother’s choice to deliberately isolate their family from anyone of the male persuasion on account of the hell her father had wracked upon her mother’s life.

Secondly, Tim was not a college student. He didn’t live on campus, and he didn’t live in her building. He did, however, live not too far from the tiny New York apartment she shared with Sam.

Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, Tim was, to the majority of the population, known as Timothée Chalamet, Academy Award nominated actor. This was, in a word, bizarre. In three words, it was really fucking bizarre.

Like. Her best friend was a major celebrity. Her best friend was considered the most talented actor of his generation (not hers, though. She was a Zoomer). Her best friend had been called the most well-dressed man in the world. Her best friend was considered an international sex symbol. Her best friend had been nominated for ninety-four different awards during the course of his increasingly illustrious acting career, and had won thirty-nine (she’d checked Wikipedia at one point). Her best friend had made out with Saorise Ronan and Selena Gomez and Zendaya and Jennifer motherfucking Lawrence. He’d dated Madonna’s daughter in high school—high school!—and then Johnny Depp’s daughter and he acted like it wasn’t even that big of a deal. Her best friend had a net worth of twenty million dollars and it was climbing fast, having outright doubled in the past few months alone.

And, oh yeah, minor detail, but she might also maybe possibly be in love with him. 

Oh, alright. So she was totally head over heels crazy in love with him. Sue her. What was she supposed to do, not fall in love with the sweetest living being she’d met in her entire life who also just so happened to be intelligent and funny and talented and had the appearance of a Greek fucking god? Yeah, unlikely.

She’d never had romantic feelings for anyone before and had fully intended to keep it that way on account of her mother’s less than stellar romantic example, but y’know. Whatever.

Not like anything was gonna happen anyway. 

He had technically asked her on a date the second time they’d met (she’d tailored two suits for him, the second of which he’d requested her by name for), but things had since been strictly platonic. She figured that once he’d actually gotten to know her as a human being, he’d decided they were better as friends. 

Never mind the fact that he got her random presents that cost hundreds of dollars. Never mind the fact that one of her Christmas presents was literally first class plane tickets home to North Carolina. Never mind the fact that he held her hand constantly, cuddled with her under a blanket when they watched movies, or that he insisted she sleep in his bed with him holding her close whenever she stayed over.

Those were all normal friend things. Or normal Tim things. Or normal guy things. She wasn’t sure. Either way, no matter what anyone said, there was no way in hell his feelings towards her were more than platonic. 

This was, of course, totally fair. It was also most definitely for the best. It hurt like a bitch, though. 

But honestly, it would never work. Zendaya was super nice and even had a boyfriend, but like. How could anyone compete with Zen-fucking-daya, even if all romantic and/or sexual interactions were in a work context?

Zendaya had become a friend at Tim’s twenty-sixth birthday party, yeah, but she was also a source of insecurity for Lea. 

She was everything Lea wasn’t. Zendaya was tall. Lea was 5’¾” of an inch on the best of days. Zendaya had perfect skin. Lea was covered in freckles and turned lobster red if she spent more than an hour and a half in the sun without SPF 70. Zendaya had a team of people managing her hair. Lea was lucky her dark red curls didn’t frizz up every day. Zendaya was skinny. Lea was… well. Not. She couldn’t even afford a bra in her size and had subsequently been wearing the same two since she was fifteen.

In any case, Tim had girls like that at his disposal, and she knew for a fact he had a long history of casual hook-ups and flings. They’d never work. It really was for the best that his feelings for her were strictly platonic.

There was one more minor reason that things must remain platonic between them. Well, okay. There were several reasons, but they were interconnected. It all started when, a few weeks into their friendship and she was hurdling head-first into romantic feelings territory and fast, she’d been hit with what she thought of as the Big Reveal.

“Your what?” Lea had sputtered at him over the pizza he’d ordered.

“Huh?” he paused in his story. “I was just saying that my wife—“

She dropped the pizza outright then. “Your wife,” she repeated back to him.

He stared at her for a few seconds, then seemed to recall something. “Shit, right, I haven’t told you, huh?”

“Apparently not,” she said uncomfortably, her appetite completely gone now. “You’re, uh… you’re married?”

He nodded. “Few years now.”

“I’m confused,” she confessed. “You asked me out at first. You said it was a date.”

Tim smiled at her indulgently, and her heart thudded in her chest. She wished it wouldn’t, though, because he was fucking married, apparently.

“We’re polyamorous, sweetheart,” he told her gently. “We both have plenty of girlfriends, some of them shared.” He paused. “Plus a few boyfriends on her part.”

She’d heard of that. She couldn’t imagine the appeal of wanting more than one person at a time. She didn’t get why he did, and she was insanely jealous of the girls he was with and most especially his motherfucking wife, but to each their own, she supposed.

“You said girlfriends,” she observed. “As in, like. Plural. More than one. Multiple.”

He nodded.

“How, uh. How many are we talking here?”

He thought for a moment. “Eight, I think? Yeah, eight.”

“Eight?” she squeaked out. He was dating eight girls? In addition to his wife?

Her mind was reeling, and she leaned back against the couch. She felt queasy.

“Where’s… where’s your wife?” Lea wanted to know.

“Her and Elle are both in a house not too far from here,” he said casually.

“Who’s Elle?” she asked, her head spinning.

“I’ve really never mentioned them?” When she shook her head, he finally put his own pizza down, wiped his hands on his sweatpants, and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through his pictures for a few seconds before turning his screen to show her a picture of a grinning little girl who couldn’t be much older than two.

She had Tim’s hair. And Tim’s eyes.

Lea gaped.

“My daughter,” he explained before putting his phone back in his pocket.

“You have kids?” She was trying really hard not to hyperventilate.

“Just the one,” he assured her hastily. Then, “Well— for now. Olivia’s pregnant and she says it’s definitely mine. Another girl, which is cool.”

“Olivia?” Lea squeaked.

“One of my girlfriends, yeah,” he brushed her off. “Lea, are you okay? You look pale.”

“I’m always pale,” she reminded him shortly.

“Are you upset?”

“Of course not.” The words were too forced for someone who knew her very well to believe, but Tim didn’t know her mannerisms super well by this point, plus she was a costume design major and had taken her share of acting classes. She couldn’t very well tell him she was actually quite upset because of how she felt about him, now could she? “I have to get home, though. I have homework.” She stood and went to get her purse. 

“I thought you’d finished it,” he pointed out, frowning in obvious disappointment at her earlier-than-usual departure.

“I just remembered I have to edit an essay.”

Tim outright pouted at that. “Why don’t you enroll in online classes next semester?”

She paused, turning around to face him again as she slipped on her shoes next to the couch. “Why?”

He shrugged, grinning up at her. “So I can take you places we wanna go together.”

She wanted to ask what his wife, daughter, and eight girlfriends would think about that. Instead, she just nodded once and said, “Yeah, okay.”

He took a final bite of pizza before standing up, towering over her as per usual, and handing her her coat. “You sure you have to go?”

Lea nodded again, more firmly this time. “My essay is a mess,” she lied.

He sighed. “Okay. C’mon, then.” At that, he started towards the elevator out of his fancy rich boy penthouse. 

“Oh, uh…” She gulped, desperately trying to think of an excuse to refuse his obvious assumption that he was driving her home. “I can take the subway.”

He looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Yeah, no. I’m driving you.”

Deciding that arguing would be too suspicious, she only nodded again, trying not to blush at how sweet he always was as she put on her coat. Why’d he have to be so fucking nice? If he weren’t so fucking nice, she wouldn’t have gone and done something as stupid as catching feelings for a married man.

When she turned to shoot a polite goodbye smile at him before exiting his car, he grinned that heart-stopping grin at her, leaned over the console, and pressed a swift kiss to her cheek.

And that’s when she knew with absolute certainty that she was a goner.

She told herself his life when he was away from her didn’t matter. It didn’t impact their friendship. He talked about his daughter sometimes, and when he did, it was with obvious love, but he hardly ever spoke about the other girls in his life. Not that she considered herself a girl in his life. God, to be a girl in Timothée Chalamet’s life. But no, she wasn’t. He spent money on her, sure; more money than her mom did outside of her schooling, even. But it was pennies to him. Pennies compared to what he must spend on his wife and various girlfriends.

Yes I made that divider by myself. It’s adorable, fuck you that’s why.

Tag list: @meetmyothersouls @ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @vampire-reanimator

To be added, please ask 💗

#my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #Timothée Chalamet #Timothee Chalamet #timothée chalmet fanfiction #Timothée Chalamet fanfic #timothee fic #Timothée Chalamet smut #real person fic #real person fanfic #real person fanfiction #real person fiction #original character #original female character #fem oc #fem!oc #OC #ofc #timothée chalamet x original character #Timothée Chalamet x oc #Timothée Chalamet x ofc #Timothée Chalamet x original female character #smut

[cryptocism]

OK so I just found your comics. I'm not the biggest DC fan but I know a bit so I get most of it. But can you please explain the og thads (1+2 and maybe any others u didn't make for ur too many Thad's au?) Im very confused and Google won't help =[ its fine if u choose not too, I'm just curious

ok yes absolutely here we go ive made some flow charts with visual cues so hopefully this AU will make more sense. consider this the masterpost:

Within DC canon: Barry Allen is Bart's grandfather on his fathers side, President Thaddeus Thawne is Bart's grandfather on his mothers side. After some failed attempts to get Bart to join the Thawne side of the family in all their evildoing, President Thawne created a clone of Bart, tweaked the genes a lil bit, and then named that clone after himself.

Thad Thawne the Second/Inertia is the first clone of Bart to ever be made, and also the one who appears in the pages of Impulse 1998.

Where the Too Many Thad's AU diverges from canon is by deciding that the Inertia who appears after the events of Impulse #65, (causing various random acts of evil before being revenge-murdered in The Flash #760,) was in fact a different person altogether and an entirely separate clone.

This is all the stuff that's been added with the AU:

Three and Four (Thaddeus' the Third and Fourth) were created as backup clones in the event that Thad II botched his mission. (which he did, after he ran off into the speedforce after the events of Mercury Falling and CRAYDL presumed him dead)

The whole "backup clones" concept makes for a nice explanation as to why Thad/Inertia's motivations and behaviors don't align with where he actually left off. Also as an explanation for why Thad didn't know that there even were backup clones: the only reason Three and Four would need to be woken up is in the event of Thad's death. He wouldn't have needed to know.

Where this whole AU goes uhhh off the rails is that after Four gets revenge-murdered, Three proceeds with the plan: continue making more clones. (the idea being "Inertia" is just this terminator-like figure in Bart's life who always comes back no matter how many times he dies)

Unbeknownst to Three, CRAYDL was messing with the cloning equipment long beforehand when they secretly created Eight and Nine, so the whole process is unstable as hell and results in Five - who has to be sprung from stasis early to deal with some Rapid Aging issues, and Six - who seems pretty gung ho about the whole "Inertia" thing until he tries to fight the Teen Titans and gets his shit rocked big time. (this ties into canon in issues #98-100 of Teen Titans, wherein a new Inertia shows up but is never explained lmao)

Afterwards, Six starts focusing instead on timeline manipulation rather than anything to do with President Thawne, Inertia, or Impulse. He also does some Weird Science with the speedforce and basically controls a small facet of the speedforce by binding it to a physical form (this is Seven).

Eight and Nine are the only clones who experienced regular aging and a semi-regular childhood. CRAYDL didn't raise them with an Allen/Thawne Family Obsession, and gave them each their own names so they could forge their own identities outside of being a clone.

Once Three finds out about them that all goes out the window though; he downloads CRAYDL's memories of Eight and Nine and puts those memories on a hard drive, which he keeps as leverage so that they do what he says. (it's a big ol YIKES of a situation)

Actually I guess this means Eight and Nine would be chronologically the 4th and 5th clones of Bart that were made, since they technically were created before Five and Six. But this is confusing enough so I'm going to stop there lmao

#asks #anonymous #too many thads au #the fact that thad is the first clone but is named ''the second'' has destroyed any hope i couldve had of this being simple and easy #so fuck it eight and nine are technically older than five and six this is just HOW IT IS

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker/Platonic! Crows x fem! Reader - Silence

A/n: So I know I haven't been very active lately but hopefully that will change! Also I don't really love this fic it's not very good and I might rewrite it in the future but for now, you guys can enjoy this shit!!!

Warnings: Abuse, sexual abuse, rape, violence, mentions of death, technically mentions of suicide, THIS FIC IS A MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

Summary: They used to be happy. That’s what Jesper says anyways about his sister. When he’s asked where it all went wrong it’s usually responded with an I have no idea. When Kaz comes to confront them in front of the Crows why you came back all bloodied and carrying back a body, they know this isn’t going to end well…

Death clung to you. That's what people muttered in the streets of Ketterdam, 'if the Blackbird is on a strike don't go outside for a week and remember, pray to the saint who wears the most colour.'

Great bedtime stories for children.

Your legend would never end, though it must have begun somewhere. Someone who you decided could witness one of your killings must have made up a story. Started it up and told it in fright to someone and the people not believing a word they say. Before their dead of course. And then it spreads like the plague.

The Blackbird was once a hopeful girl, full of dreams and happiness. She had beautiful feathers of all different kinds of colours, and they sang to the heavens and it was as if she was a child of the saints. Then one day - the bird that brought kindness and sunshine to everyone's lives fell into a trap.

There was a hyena that people all thought was bad news but she thought she could help him become a better person.

The little birdy was wrong.

He hurt the bird of colours so badly that one day he burned her feathers and they became pitch black. The hyena thought that he had won at last and had gotten power over the bird.

It was said that she ran and escaped the terrible beast that day. And because he had changed her to the very soul she wasn't the same anymore, no. She was only used for revenge, and it was said she turned her backs on the saints for not saving her. When the saints did decide to intervene the little bird was shattered and could no longer sing. Her voice reduced to a vengeful whip, it was no longer beautiful but fearsome.

It was said that on that night the Blackbird used her wings on Ketterdam so she could cover the sky in darkness so the stars in the sky, the only things the saints could use to watch over mankind was blindfolded in a merciless fog.

And there the Blackbird was born.

Maybe death clung to you, but not the same way that trauma and the cruelness of the world does.

And that's a fate worse than death.

You remember strike one, you and Jesper were kids - happy kids. And the neighbour's son of was considerably older than both of you offered to babysit the one time your Da, and Ma was out.

Jesper was playing in the back, perhaps practicing shooting so he could impress your Mum but you stayed inside saying something along the lines that you wanted to cook some cookies for Dad.

How you wished you hadn't.

That teenage boy had put his filthy little hands on you. He left you in the kitchen tears running down your face and bile that you had to force back down your throat.

Your mother had found you like that and she instantly knew what had happened and she made everything much more bearable. When you had nightmares you would get up and knock on her door quietly enough for her just to hear and because your Ma was a light sleeper but your Da was not, she would get up and see you alright.

The poor woman never told her husband because you had pleaded with her not to. She always did blame herself and she made sure the boy never came around again but she did thank the saints that he didn't go all the way.

She wasn't sunshine, (she always said that was you!) No, she was the faint moonlight in the distance that helped guide you on your way home.

Then she died.

Strike two, was your mother dying. You remember that day where she went to take the poison out of that child and when she did she sucked it back into herself. In your arms was the last place your Ma took her last breath.

That was the day the world had lost its guide home and it always seemed to be in peril after that.

Strike three came almost immediately after strike two. Your father wouldn't talk to you. You became a ghost in your own house, you understood your father though,

she did die in your arms.

Jesper was the only one that didn't make strike three the last strike where the rope was at its point and snapped. He was your armour against the world, with his funny quirks and quips. He was the older brother you needed in those moments.

But armour slowly breaks over time and your dear brother wasn't getting enough out of life at the farm. So when your Father sent Jesper to Ketterdam you went right with him.

You attended college for a bit but eventually, your armour had finally left you. It broke under the stress of everything in his life that he couldn't keep up with yours.

So you meant him.

He was kind but knew when the world was being too cruel. He was wealthy, but not rich. He was sweet, but not puke up rainbows kind of way. He knew you like the back of his hand and always knew how to comfort you. Jesper had actually meant him once before he got too busy with the Dregs and said maybe he knew you too well.

You yelled at him at the time and said that was absurd! He would never do anything to hurt you!

Strike four was falling under his spell.

Strike five was when he told you terrible things about yourself and you thought he was always right. He could do no wrong in your eyes.

Strike six was when he finally started beating you and you had just expected it at this point.

Strike seven was when you weren't allowed to go to school anymore.

Strike eight was when he wouldn't let you see anyone, not even your brother. But you never questioned it, he was basically a saint to you, why would you? Besides Jesper never seemed to have time for you anyways.

Strike nine was when he cheated on you and told you you had to be better.

Strike ten was when he started raping you.

Then one day he was worse than usual and you grabbed the hot poker from the fire pit, that he had used to beat you before, and you had told him to stay away.

Then you ran.

It was the straw the broke the camel's back, it was the saints giving up on him or maybe it was the saints giving up on you.

You didn't care, you were free.

You made one promise that day, that you would never love again.

You learned quickly what Ketterdam was like even before you had meant him, so perhaps that was why it was so easy to become the Blackbird. The girl who never smiled, the girl who only lived only for revenge. The monster that will wipe your existence off of the earth like it was nothing. The ghost that will haunt you when your sins line up too high.

Eventually, you joined the dregs and you connected with your brother once again and he knew something was wrong the moment he felt your presence. He didn't believe you were the Blackbird, the girl who terrorized the streets of Ketterdam.

But he learned to accept it, they all did except for that blasted Brekker boy.

With your time in the Dregs, you had slowly begun to form something with Kaz but you quickly remembered your promise to yourself and you let him go.

Although you don't like to admit it, the Crows had become your friends - family even. You would do anything to protect them even though it didn't seem like it. You were you though, and that was being afraid to even semi-connect with them. Of course, you were, because you were growing a bit too fond of Kaz Brekker and last time that lead you to a fate worse than death.

So you distanced yourself for a while to recollect your thoughts and if you really wanted to stay with them. Did they ever manipulate you? No. Then you came back and you stayed, maybe you weren't the perfect friend or a very good one at all but the Crows knew you even considering to stay was a blessing all in itself.

They were always so patient with you even Kaz, especially Kaz, and you never gave anything in return to them. Guilt would often cloud your mind when you were near them but they were always so amazing something you could never be.

But one day they came to their breaking point.

Killing people wasn't anything new for them, much less you killing people but coming back with a bloodied body and losing contact with them for weeks was probably not the same as just 'killing.'

Jesper pulls you by your bicep into Kaz's office with the other Crows following behind. You stumble in as Kaz slams the door shut being the last one in the room. They stare at you with beady eyes almost like the ones on the infamous birds around the Slat.

"What the fuck Y/n!" Jesper finally yells. Everyone around doesn't even bother to tell him to lower his voice their faces held the same anger that Jes's did.

Silence drowns you in its ocean keeping you in its waters. A chain is wrapped around your throat as you sink deeper and deeper into its depths. You try and swim away, run like you always had before, but the weight around your neck is too heavy, too dense and it slowly drowns you.

You just shrugged your shoulders. How could you explain all that you went through? Why would you want to?

"We can't just brush this off Y/n, we always do, but you crossed a line," Wylan states calmly but firmly at the same time putting a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder trying to ease the tension in the room.

You laugh, you hadn't even been walking a line at all. No, you had been jumping from rooftop to rooftop as they created a chalk line at how far you could go. Balling your hands into fits you snarl, they have been keeping you back. Maybe it's a good thing but you didn't want to admit it.

What about Kaz? A voice whispers in the back of your head.

Your eyes travel to his form in the back. He's leaning on the wall slightly but also using his cane to make himself look up-right. The darkness in the back compliments his angular features making them stand out as if saying he was above you. And to most people he probably was and he deserved that position.

But it didn't matter to you, he was just Kaz to you. Even if you saw him as someone... Important in your life, nevertheless he didn't matter. He was just another powerful man drawing a line that you couldn't cross as the line became smaller and smaller till you were trapped against a wall with nowhere to go.

When you first became the Blackbird, you climbed up that wall, you knew what was going to happen next. And you would never let anyone do that to you again.

"If you think I crossed the 'line' then your wrong." Your voice started out light-hearted (never does a fake smile crawl on your face though) but slowly became menacing and terrifying.

You spin of your heels turning to Jesper. "You've kept me in a cage giving me freedom but always locking me back up in the night."

You turn to Wylan and you mock his voice from earlier. "It was only a matter of time before I would break out." Your eyes lock onto Kaz's and your voice softens while you look at him.

"You knew it was going to happen sooner rather than later. A bird needs to stretch its wings somehow."

"That doesn't mean you get to cut off communication with us for weeks than bringing in a body all bloodied. What you said before doesn't even explain why you did that Y/n," Inej says quietly.

You growl and the people closest to you jump back a little.

"Oh, what are you going to do, kick me out? Half of your businesses wouldn't have even succeeded without me!"

Jesper balls his hands into fists. "Gee for fuck's sake Y/n would just tell us!"

"HE'S THE REASON I'M A MONSTER!"

Your shout makes everyone freeze in their place and there it is again. The overbearing silence that takes over everything with its darkness. Running threw out the room, swirling around you and making it impossible for you to even hear anything other than your own terrible thoughts of madness.

But one voice isn't in your head of that hyena howling at you no, it's real and you can hear it among the darkness. You close your eyes listening in and hearing something other than darkness.

"Y/n." Your eyes snap open and you meet Kaz's eyes and you feel something dangerously close to relief.

"Everyone else out."

The Crows file out of the room one by one following Kaz's order. Everyone leaves but Jesper hesitates at the door and you see your broken armour trying to come back to you again and although it's harsh he wasn't there when he should have been. You understood that he had other problems he needed to sort out but you were his little sister.

You were supposed to stick up for each other.

"Out." Your voice would sound cold to anyone else but to Jesper, it sounds tired and unhappy. Lonely also however it has a hit of love and revenge as well.

The taller brother just sighs though and close's the door.

Kaz's eyes meet yours and your hands start to fidget with the cuffs of your bloodied shirt.

He doesn't say anything, he just stares at you. Willing you to spill information with just a glance. Any God would fall prey to those eyes and they would disclose all their knowledge while also thanking him in the end.

Kaz Brekker had something more powerful than Godly power over you.

So you couldn't help but tell him the real more dark story behind the Blackbird, he had already told you his so maybe, just maybe you could trust him.

"Do you know the Story of the Blackbird?" Your voice rings out against the muteness of the room fighting against it for once in your miserable life.

Kaz nods his head showing you that he knew. Of course, he knew it, was Brekker he probably knows every single version by heart.

"And I assume you know it's about me?"

Rolling his eyes but nodding once again.

You hesitate, knowing that after this you couldn't go back. That these next few words could change everything and why are you even telling this to the bastard of the barrel?

Because you love him.

It's simple and you promised yourself you would never love again but possibly that promise wasn't real because perhaps you never really loved that hyena. Some form of peace has definitely come from killing him, but maybe there's more to moving on from trauma than just revenge.

So with those thoughts in mind, the words tumble out of your mouth and you wouldn't be able to stop them even if you tried.

"Around the time where Jesper was just starting in the Dregs I had gotten a boyfriend. He was... Well, he was the perfect boyfriend but looking back he was too perfect. Basically fake, he was a manipulator and he knew me like the back of his hand. He knew where to press and I was under the impression that he could do nothing wrong." You pause to take a breath but you don't look up from your spot on the floor.

"It started with the small things like little insults thrown my way, but then it grew into bigger things like calling me a slut and what not. I wasn't even surprised when he started beating me."

Your eyes slowly come off the floor and they travel up Kaz's body but never meeting his eyes. You didn't want to see the disappointment that would be held in those eyes. That was inevitable.

"Then every day it started to get worse till he-" You cut yourself off and your legs wobble underneath you and as you collapsed Kaz jetted out and caught you before you could fall.

Tears were running down your face as you gripped Kaz's shirt as he picked you up bridal style and carried you over to the bed. He place's you down and slides in beside you yet there was a good distance between the two of you. But it still gave you comfort and for the first time in a while, you didn't question why it did, you just went with it already knowing the reason why.

You loved him it was as simple as that.

"Then he-" You choked on a sob again and you bring your knees to your chest.

"You don't have to say it." He says gently nothing like what that hyena used to do to you.

"Noah used to rape me." The words come out in a blur and the tight feeling in your chest slowly falls apart and for the first time in a while, you truly feel like a Blackbird - free. Stuttering to breathe in a realization comes to your mind; Noah that monster will never hurt you ever again.

"Oh, my Saints! He's dead!" You cover your mouth with your hand and you lean back onto the headboard tears of happiness smear down your face. You don't laugh though but you feel even clearer than before. You could get used to this feeling.

Slowly you look over to Kaz and you realize the two of you were broken souls beyond repair and maybe just maybe that's what you needed. Perhaps that's what you both need, each other.

"Thank you." You whisper and the ends of Kaz's mouth curl's up a bit into what looks like is almost a smile but not quite. You would get there too one day.

===========TIME SKIP 4 Months======================

You jump from the rooftop gliding through the air and landing on the window sill of Kaz's office. You tilt your head to the side affectionately as you see The Crows getting ready for a heist only they're really just fooling around. Everyone but Kaz of course, he's in his desk chair drawing out some maps.

And they tell you you overwork! Hypocrites.

You open the window silently and you slip into the room unnoticed. You tiptoe over to Kaz's desk and you leap on top.

Kaz raises his eyebrow at you and you just shrug your shoulders, he probably had to stop anyways.

"You know there are other ways to get my attention other than acting like a child?"

"Oh, I know this is just more effective." You playfully respond.

Before Kaz could continue with the banter Jesper interject's just realizing you were here grabbing everyone's attention and placing it on you. Still not a fan of that.

"How the hell did you get from that rooftop to that window!" Jesper points outside in a slightly worried, big brother voice.

So you look him dead in the eyes and say; "I flew."

Jesper laughs along with the rest of The Crows but they stop at your deadpan look on your face.

"You didn't really?!"

"No, I didn't." You roll your eyes, "I didn't even think you knew that I did that."

Jesper comes over and wraps an arm around your shoulders and you immediately tense up.

"I do know some tricks! I am your older brother after all." His tone does get a few octaves of sombre at the end remembering the memories of how he didn't protect you before. But he's here now so you guess that's all matter's now.

You scoot off the desk out of his arm range but you do send him a sorry glance. The memories were just too much to handle sometimes. He just sends me a tiny knowing smile and nods and walk's off quietly (for the first time in his life) over to Wylan.

You watch everyone interact and it almost brings a smile to your face but something is missing and you wonder what it is.

Your question is quickly answered though as Kaz stands up beside you. His ungloved hand slowly garb's onto yours's and slowly you intertwine your fingers together.

"You really are the leader of a bunch of idiots." You say as Nina dares your brother to down a whole bucket paint.

"Yes, that's what it seems."

"But we love them." And for the first time in a while, you smile and it's not full-blown, it's tiny yet it has the whole galaxy in there.

"Yes, Yes I do." But Kaz isn't looking at The Crows he's looking at you.

Words 3517

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover

#shadow and bone #six of crows #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows x reader #shadow and bone x reader #the crows #the crow club #Blackbird #the crows x reader #inej ghafa #fahey reader #x reader #x you #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #matthias helvar #nina zenik #grisha #grishaverse

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian - “Always and Forever” Chapter 2

After the death of their daughter Grace, Kurt and Sebastian drift apart. Kurt wraps himself up in his grief so tightly he starts to push Sebastian away, and Sebastian, feeling himself shoved aside when he needs Kurt most, cheats. They make the decision to start over, to leave New York City and their pain behind, and start over again in a house Upstate. Sebastian buys Kurt a "fixer upper" and gives him free reign. While redecorating the room that will be his studio, Kurt comes across something interesting underneath the wallpaper. It starts to become an obsession for Kurt - an obsession that begins to replace Kurt's love for his husband, which Sebastian is holding on to by a thread. Can Kurt and Sebastian break through the pain and the hurt and find a way to fall in love again?

Read on AO3

Chapter 2 (5061 words)

The first evening in their new house becomes a long, exhaustive dance of unpacking and cleaning in preparation for the movers to arrive in the morning. What, in the past, would have been an upbeat two-step of flirting in the hallways while lugging in suitcases, punctuated by the occasional stop, dip, and smooch, is now a formal, boxy waltz, with Sebastian giving Kurt a wide-berth whenever he hears his husband coming, and Kurt pausing in doorways, eyes darting elsewhere when Sebastian passes by.

The rush to clear the dirt away and make things suitable for the furniture they chose to bring with them affords Kurt ample opportunities to send Sebastian on a host of errands, ensuring him stretches of time that he can spend alone to reflect and think.

Consider the past and plan for the future.

Even after the furniture arrives, they should have tons of space left. They had decided not to bring everything they own with them. They aren’t selling their penthouse. Keeping it furnished for the odd trip back seems like the practical thing to do. So, they only packed those things that they absolutely could not live without. 

They didn’t bring any of the furniture from Grace's room. That Kurt donated to the Salvation Army with the exception of one item – a Winnie the Pooh lamp that he had found in mint condition, ironically, at the Salvation Army, on the day he and Sebastian found out their surrogate was pregnant. It's ceramic, hand-painted, with Christopher Robin and Winnie the Pooh sitting back to back as the base, each holding a handful of balloons. One red balloon, larger than the rest, contains the bulb, the colored plastic lending a rosy tint to its glow. Along the bottom edge are written the words: “If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever.”

Kurt’s mother had read him Winnie the Pooh books his entire childhood. He could recite most of A. A. Milne’s writings by the time he turned eight.

The year his mother passed away.

He'd read those same books to his daughter. She’d had them mostly memorized, too.

Seven hours of scrubbing, sanitizing, and (for Sebastian) racing around town wipe the two of them out, to the point where falling asleep is simply a matter of inflating an air mattress and putting heads down on pillows. They had picked up a Queen size one at a JCPenney along the way. It’s nowhere near as luxurious as the custom-made King size bed currently stuck in the back of an Allied Moving Truck, waiting to take a journey on the 495. This mattress is a tighter fit than they’re used to. It doesn’t help that the thing sinks in the middle whenever one of them rolls over. With the both of them measuring six-foot-plus tall, they have to lie in the fetal position to fit comfortably, which would require them to spoon. But Kurt finds a way to keep himself out of his husband’s arms.

The material the mattress is made out of seems perpetually ice-cold, not warming up a touch with their combined body heat, which Kurt didn’t anticipate. They have the gas and electricity switched on, but there’s something wrong with the central heating. They don’t have the requisite amount of blankets to keep from freezing, which adds to the misery. Despite being pissed at Sebastian, Kurt doesn’t have the heart to send him out at one a.m. to the 24-hour Walmart, so he closes his eyes and resigns himself to suffering until dawn.

For the next five hours, Kurt’s mind stays blank. No noise, no dreams, and no flashbacks, thank God. It’s not restful, but it’s the best he could have hoped for. The last half a year has not been conducive to dreaming. The nightmares keep coming, one after the other, the next one worse than the last, shaking him to his core until he jars awake with a pain in his chest like someone had tried, in steel boots, to stomp him into the dirt. But waking up doesn’t solve the problem. He doesn’t know what he hates worse – waking up weeping in his husband’s arms or waking up weeping alone.

Kurt’s feelings for Sebastian are complicated when he thinks they shouldn’t be. Kurt should either love him and forgive him or hate him and move on. But he loves him and hates him. His hands itch to hold him, but a second later, he wants to shove him away. He wants to go, but he can’t imagine leaving.

As much as it sucks, Kurt can’t imagine living without him.

He would prefer to go back to being shamelessly and hopelessly in love with him. Hating him has become a crutch. But it’s enough to get him through. Regardless of that fact, which should tie up the loose ends, mend the hurts and cool the hate, it doesn’t, because Kurt can’t find a way to forgive him.

A well-meaning Facebook friend had told Kurt over Messenger that the problem was Kurt’s pride had been hurt by Sebastian cheating. Push the pride aside and get over it. Ultimately, the marriage is more important. Then he said something about Kurt putting on his “big boy” pants, mentioned God, and quoted the Bible.

A minute later, Kurt blocked him.

That’s another blessing of moving - leaving behind the get over it already crowd. He hates them more than the forever sorry folks. The people who tell him to move on, to get over it, to put it behind him, don’t really care about him. They want him to stop complaining, as if they’re obligated to follow him on social media, and that puts the burden on him, in turn, to make them feel comfortable.

Maybe some of them do care, but not enough to put themselves in his shoes and understand that it’s just not that easy. Being on the outside of the swamp and looking in at a man who’s drowning, yelling at him to grab a branch and pull himself free, is different than being the man stuck hip-deep in mud that feels like cement and losing a fight that’s beyond his control.

Sometimes, as a matter of self-preservation, you simply give up.

Kurt doesn’t know who Sebastian slept with. He has his suspicions, but he doesn’t know for sure, and Sebastian won’t confirm. He says it’s because he wants to put it behind him, forget it ever happened, and that infuriates Kurt. If sleeping with another man was something Sebastian would need to put behind him, why even do it? Or (and Kurt hates himself for thinking like this), if Sebastian didn’t want Kurt to dwell on it, why not take steps to ensure that Kurt wouldn’t find out? Sebastian, of all people, should have known that this would eat Kurt up inside. It’s the kind of thing he’d never let go of. Yes, Kurt would be devastated if he discovered the cheating and the cover-up years after the fact, but he’d be in a better place to mourn his marriage apart from mourning his daughter.

What Sebastian did was selfish on so many levels.

Kurt knows that sex isn’t love, but he can't help wondering – was there a moment in the middle of all of it, caught up in the kissing and the fucking, where it felt like love?

Kurt met Sebastian in high school. Kurt wasn’t just a virgin back then. Oh, no. He had created his own category of virgin for which he could have had a cape and costume custom made – Captain Super Prude. Sex was a taboo topic for him, so much so that his high school’s chastity club hated him. 

Apparently, he set the bar too high, made them look loose in comparison. 

As much as he had fantasized about finding a special someone who would sweep him off his feet, gently usher him into manhood by making soulful but passionate love to him, he preferred not to think about it too often or too in-depth. The "talk” between him and his father was a mortifying experience.

There were pamphlets involved. 

He still has some of them.

When it came to finding a boyfriend, Sebastian wasn’t what Kurt had planned on at all. Where Kurt was attracted to debonair, old-school, gentlemanly types a few years older than himself, Sebastian was crass, rude, explicit, and a year younger. On top of that, he was (to coin a phrase stolen from one of Kurt’s best friends, Quinn) the biggest French whore of them all. Sebastian didn’t care for romance and he didn’t attach emotions to sex, but he definitely had a way of making men fall in love with him. Kurt Hummel and Sebastian Smythe were the two people in the world least likely to fall in love with one another. But according to Sebastian, he fell in love with Kurt long before Kurt fell in love with him.

Sebastian claimed that Kurt was the first man he had ever fallen in love with, and at first sight, no less.

He whispered those words in Kurt’s ear the first time they made love.

He said those exact words during his toast at their wedding.

He wrote them in every birthday, Christmas, and anniversary card he ever gave to Kurt.

He said them over Grace’s crib the night they brought her home.

“Look at this little thing, Kurt,” Sebastian had sighed, reaching out to stroke Grace’s cheek. “Our daughter. Is it ridiculous that I’ve only known her for two days and I’m already in love with her?

“Technically, nine months and two days. But, no. It’s not ridiculous.”

“I never thought I could fall so fast in love with another human being before I met you.”

“Really?” 

“A-ha.” Sebastian smiled when Grace yawned, her whole mouth moving in a complete circle before she settled down again. “I fell in love with you the second I laid eyes on you. And then, well, it was all over for me.”

Those words, the memory of that happiness, breaks Kurt’s heart. Could it be possible that, after close to twenty years of marriage, after reciting those words so many times, they didn’t mean anything anymore? Had Sebastian found someone else he could fall in love with?

Kurt has asked, but Sebastian won’t answer that question. He says it’s insulting.

Whatever the answer, he probably thinks he’s doing his husband a kindness. What he’s really doing is prolonging the torture, not giving Kurt the information he needs to make a decision that he can stand behind. Every time Kurt looks at his husband, he sees touches on his skin that don’t belong to him, kisses on his lips that he didn’t put there.

Kurt doesn’t know how to make himself see past them.

Instead, he looks away.

The second Kurt feels sunlight on his face, he’s out of bed. He grabs his messenger bag and pads down the hall to his studio before Sebastian can stir.

The room looks different with blurry morning sunlight bleeding through the windows. Kurt didn’t put black-out curtains up, and the sheer curtains that came with the house let fingers of light poke through, bouncing off the wallpaper and brightening the floor. 

Yikes.

Kurt examines the floor now that he sees it clearly. It’s a mess - the wood warped as if someone had paced it incessantly. It had been varnished at one time. Spots of resin dot the boards like oily puddles. The wood itself (some variety of walnut, Kurt suspects) has blackened to a morbid pitch with age. It sucks up the light and gives little back.

“Oh, yeah,” Kurt murmurs, pressing around the brittle edge of one spot with his toe, watching it crackle into shards. “This has to be completely redone.”

He gets stuck on the idea that this room could have been his daughter’s if she were still alive. He and Sebastian had talked about raising Grace in a suburban environment, and as much as he regrets not giving her a house with a yard and room to grow, Kurt leaned heavily on the side of staying in the city. Some of his motives were selfish. He loved Manhattan. It had been his lifelong dream to end up there. He wanted his daughter to grow up with all of the things he didn’t – culture, diversity, theaters and libraries and museums a train ride away. He didn’t want her raised around the closed, narrow minds of small-town folk. He wanted her to be an independent thinker – liberated, rational, intelligent. But he also wanted her to be compassionate and kind. He wanted her to know the world, its wonders and its failings, the way it truly was, not the way it looked on a movie screen, and long to change it for the better. They participated in fundraisers, gathered donations for the homeless, and volunteered in soup kitchens.

Grace was a pure light, a driving force that, at her age, Kurt didn’t get the chance to be.

So in honor of her, he wants his workroom to be bright and colorful - a mixture of his vintage aesthetic and her fun-loving personality. He’ll paint the walls her favorite colors, put homages to her in the details, choose the furnishings she would have preferred.

Since this will be the room he spends most of his time in, he wants it to be everything about his daughter that he adored.

He opens his bag and pulls out his phone, checking the time. 6:08. The movers are supposed to arrive between eight a.m. and ten. But movers, electricians, plumbers, and cable guys never arrive on time. He fishes out his sketchbook, sits on the floor, and gets to work jotting down a layout. First things first, he decides where his drafting table will go, where he’ll store his bolts, where he’ll put his sewing machine, a spot for a work chair, marking places here and there for personal touches like his mother’s vanity, his first-ever dress form, a few of his awards...

And photographs. Lots and lots of photographs.

He didn’t keep photographs in his studio at Vogue. He had an obsession with keeping his private life private, which he doesn’t apologize for. Since he met clients there, he liked to keep that space impersonal. Nothing to get in the way, spark a conversation that might derail the job at hand. 

Unlike Sebastian, who hung candids galore. He stuffed the most Godawful photographs from their high school and college years into collage frames and nailed them to every wall of his office, squeezing things like his degrees and diplomas into far corners so that those pictures could be prominently displayed. He said that people knew the Smythes by name and reputation. If anyone wanted to see his credentials, they could Google them. But when people walked into his office, he wanted them to know that first and foremost, he was a family man.

Sebastian knew from childhood that he would become a lawyer. He never dreamed he would be a father. 

Or a husband.

Those were the two accomplishments he seemed the proudest of.

Kurt regrets not having more pictures of Grace hanging on his studio walls, her smiling face to look at every hour of every day, watching his meetings, overseeing his layouts. She was his good-luck charm, his missing puzzle piece. She deserved a place of honor.

Now, he’ll give her one.

His stomach growls as he works. A smell from somewhere tickles his nose, and he groans. Just a few more seconds of sketching on the hard ground, and he’ll grab a bite to eat… maybe. With his ass numb, he doesn’t see a reason to get up, and bedsides, he’s on a roll. Car doors closing and constant banging echo in, and he winces, his head throbbing from lack of sleep. Dammit! If it would just stop till he finishes! It’s hard enough to concentrate as is! He hopes this is a one-time-only thing. He’d hate to wake up to that cacophony every morning. If he ever decides to go outside and meet the neighbors, he’ll have to find a polite way of asking them not to do whatever that is before he has his morning coffee.

Of course, soundproofing is also an option.

“Kurt? Kurt, are you… ?”

Kurt shifts his legs underneath him. He lifts a hand to massage his shoulders. That mattress must have killed his back. His arms ache something fierce. Sitting on this floor doesn’t help, the uneven boards digging into his legs, but it’s not an impetus for him to stop.

Just one more minute.

One more minute of sketching out this room, and he’ll join the world. One more minute to get his thoughts straight. One more minute to brush aside the things that like to torture him. Forget that his mother died when he was eight, his stepbrother when he was eighteen. Forget that his father passed away three years ago and his daughter six months ago.

Not too long after, his husband cheated.

Five.

That’s how many things he had loved in this world more than himself.

Those are the things that he’d lost.

They were the things he needed to forget in order to make it through till the evening.

He’ll replace the insulation and the drywall, smother everything in a noise-proofing compound, then paint the walls in swirls of pink and gold. He’ll do the ceiling in shades of blue, indigo, and violet, like the sky at night, and cover it in crystals to represent stars the way Grace had wanted to do with her bedroom. Kurt had promised her he would the second everything was over, when they could risk her being around the debris and the fumes.

He has never broken a promise to Grace. He isn’t about to start.

He scribbles those notes in sloppy script in the margin of his paper, wipes tears with the back of his shaking hand. He tries to focus on specifics to bring himself back from the brink of a breakdown. He needs a good cry, but he doesn’t want the comforting that will go with it if Sebastian hears him. He can’t right now. Sebastian comforting Kurt turns into Kurt comforting him back, and Kurt only has the strength to handle one outburst.

“Kurt? Did you want to… ?”

Kurt waves a hand to shoo away the buzzing beside his ear, relieved when it doesn’t take much more than that.

In order to paint the walls, he’ll have to take the wallpaper down.

That brings to mind the corner of torn paper over by the window and the word written underneath.

Darling.

That corner offends him. Kurt keeps entertaining the thought that that word has nothing to do with Sebastian, that there is another layer of wallpaper underneath festooned with line art of flowers, along with quotes from various love poems sprinkled throughout, circa 1800s. But then that would make that one tear and that one word an incredible coincidence since darling is the pet name Sebastian has called Kurt since day one. When he started doing it, every time he said it, Kurt had an urge to sock him on the jaw.

He was a pain in the ass, even back then.

Did Sebastian actually think Kurt would fall for writing darling on the wall? After the things he said? After what he did?

Kurt’s hand trembles so badly, he smudges the ink on his page. He stops writing, takes a deep breath, and counts to ten. He closes his eyes and concentrates on the sun warming his face. It’s gone now when it was there a second ago, which is disconcerting, but he has to ignore that and calm down.

He has to relax.

He promised he’d give this marriage a chance, that he’d try to make this work. Sebastian, so far, has held up his part of the bargain. He’s given Kurt space. He’s listened to him vent uncontested. He’s let Kurt keep tabs on him – where he goes, when he’ll be back, with photo texts in between to prove that he is where he said he would be. Kurt has to give him the benefit of the doubt. If Sebastian extends an olive branch, Kurt should take it.

But did he want to?

“I didn’t hear you when you got up this morning.” Sebastian’s voice starts Kurt’s hand up again. He wants to look busy. He doesn’t want to be caught in a position where he has to give his husband his full attention.

He hasn’t forgotten everything yet.

“Well, you were dead to the world,” Kurt replies, distracted.

“I’m just saying, see? You won’t disturb me. You don’t need to put a bed in here.”

Kurt bobs his head back and forth, adding a place in his layout for a foldout out of spite. “We’ll see. It’s only been the one day.”

“That’s true.” The way Sebastian says it, it sounds like a challenge. A tired challenge. Like Sebastian knows he’s already lost. “So, you like the room?”

“Yeah. I think I do.”

“And what about the rest of the house?”

He doesn’t know why Sebastian sounds like he’s asking. It’s a done deal. They both agreed on a new house. Sebastian found one he thought Kurt would like and bought it. What? Are they going to back out now and magically move somewhere else?

Will moving around from house to house solve what’s wrong between them?

“It’s fine, I guess. I don’t know. I think it’s hard for me to visualize without taking the grand tour. I’ll be able to tell better when I get started decorating.”

“Are you gonna hire that guru guy to help you with the yin and yang stuff?” Sebastian jokes cautiously. “That Kung Fu guy… what’s his name… ?” Sebastian snaps his fingers as if he’s seriously trying to remember.

“He’s a Feng shui practitioner, and his name is Carl.”

“His name's Carl?” Sebastian laughs. “No no no, his name is not Carl. Carl is the name of a dentist. He’s not a guy you call to Wang Chung your house.”

“Feng shui,” Kurt corrects again. “I hired him to help me create balance in our home.” He chuckles despite the fact he doesn’t want to find Sebastian funny. He doesn’t want Sebastian to affect him. But he’s right. The man’s name irked Kurt, too, when Isabelle referred him. “Ridiculous name or not, he seemed like a knowledgeable guy.”

“Do you think that Shaolin stuff could work here?”

Kurt pauses to give the matter some thought, and that kills the moment. The levity becomes saturated by the pain hanging in the room, and Kurt coils further into his sketch.

“That remains to be seen. But I think I’m going to try doing it for myself this time. Of course, the overall effect is going to be completely thrown to heck when you hire whoever never to decorate your office.” Kurt throws a derisive scowl over his shoulder. It misses its mark when Kurt won’t look Sebastian in the eyes.

Sebastian swallows Kurt’s scowl without thinking of a comeback. They’ve had that argument before when Kurt redecorated their penthouse. Kurt felt the need to redecorate whenever something big happened in their lives, but Sebastian’s office was off-limits, so it stayed the same. Kurt tried to find one or two things to put into his design scheme that would bring a theme from Sebastian’s office out so that the penthouse would blend, but whatever the thing he chose was – a print, a vase, an ottoman, or a coffee table – it stuck out like a sore thumb, until Kurt tried less and less.

“Can’t fight City Hall,” he’d say, returning to the business of finishing the rest of the space. Things changed around them, and yet, in Sebastian’s carefully curated world, life stood still. The last time Kurt redecorated was before Grace was born. Nothing in the penthouse matched Sebastian’s office after that.

“I want you to do it.”

Kurt stops scribbling. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

Kurt almost looks back to see if Sebastian is serious. He stares at the paper in front of him, the surface more ink than white. “Are you… are you sure? You always said that we need our separate spaces.”

“That’s only because you’re a little heavy-handed with the pastels. I trust you. Just don’t go making it all shabby chic.”

Kurt is speechless. This is the opportunity he has been waiting for their entire marriage – to decorate Sebastian’s office. Once upon a time, he saw it as the ultimate gesture of trust.

Back when he was naïve and fairly stupid.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Kurt debates standing up and giving Sebastian a hug or a handshake. This seems like a time that would warrant it. But when he rolls an inch to his knees, his entire body screams with pain. God, he feels old. How can he be this stiff after just half an hour?

Kurt returns to his planning. Even though he doesn’t feel prepared to leave his sanctuary, he fixes on that solid mask he’s been wearing for weeks around Sebastian. Just one more minute. One more minute, and he’ll go downstairs. He thinks he says it out loud. He expects Sebastian to go back to their room and get ready for the day, but he stays in place like a statue, watching Kurt draw, huddled over his sketchbook with his back turned to him and the door.

Kurt waits to hear the sound of footsteps retreat the way they came, but they don’t. His pencil stops above a square drawn in the corner meant to represent his stereo. He can’t continue his drawing with his husband watching, so he bites the bullet.

“Was there something else you needed?” he asks.

“They’ve… uh… got the bed in,” Sebastian says. “And the TV.”

Kurt scrunches his nose and lifts his head. What does he mean? The bed and the TV are on the moving truck. Kurt looks at his phone, resting on the floor by his knee.

“What are you talking about?” Kurt scoffs. “The movers haven’t even arrived yet. It’s only 7:15.”

“That’s right.” Sebastian speaks slowly, the way he does when he’s explaining something to Kurt that he thinks Kurt might explode over. He leans forward like he wants to come in but doesn’t without an invitation. “It is 7:15. In the evening.”

Kurt's head snaps up, eyes rolling because Sebastian is crazy.

There’s no way.

He's ready to object, but with his gaze away from his page, he notices something different about the light in the room. Instead of a soft, diffused blue, it has become a thicker yellow. Shadows stretch across the floor that weren’t there before. The room is warmer than he remembers, and the skin of his left shin, folded over his right, feels hot and irritated, like he might have gotten a sunburn.

“Evening?” Kurt shakes his head. “How can it… ? But… why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come get me?”

“I tried. I told you when the movers arrived. I asked you what you wanted for lunch. I brought you the portable heater and put a lamp in here when it started to get dark.”

Kurt looks around. In the emptiness of the room, they’re easy to see - a plug-in heater behind him, and, in the corner of the room to the left of the door, standing straight and tall like a structural support beam, a brass lamp without a shade, filling the room with artificial light.

The first two pieces of furniture in his new studio, and Sebastian put them there.

Kurt doesn’t want them. He’d rather be cold and alone in the dark.

“We don’t have WiFi or cable yet, but I set up the Blu-ray player,” Sebastian continues. “I thought I could go get some take-out, and we could have a picnic dinner on the bed. Maybe watch a movie?”

Kurt does a 180 on his sore ass and looks at his husband (which is to say he looks at a spot over Sebastian’s head) with a mildly confused expression. He’s not really thinking about the bed or the movie or dinner at all. Even though he was hungry earlier, apparently hours earlier, he’s not hungry now. He couldn’t be less hungry. His desire to eat simply evaporated. It's been waning for weeks. Sometimes he forgets to eat until Sebastian sticks a sandwich in his face. Sebastian has become devoted to keeping Kurt's stomach full. He knows better than to comment on his weight loss, but he keeps a stock of temptable foods on hand.

He’s keeping Kurt on life support.

Sebastian stuck a spear into the heart of what they had together. Now he’s keeping Kurt alive to help him fix it.

Kurt hates that he didn’t see it that way until just now.

“Kurt? Please?”

Here’s the olive branch, Kurt thinks. He has to decide whether he’s going to take it or toss it aside.

He had promised Sebastian he’d try, and Kurt has never broken a promise to Sebastian.

No matter how much he hurts, he’s not going to start tonight.

His father always said that a man is only as good as his word.

Kurt closes his sketchbook. “Alright. I’m coming.” He tries to unfold his legs, but his knees lock up on him, and he rushes to massage the beginnings of a cramp. Sebastian looks like he’s about to spring in and help, but Kurt puts up a hand. “I’ll be a minute.”

Nodding, Sebastian takes a step back. Even with that rejection, he looks happier, more hopeful. He takes his phone out of his pocket and leaves the room. The grateful smile on his lips should fill Kurt with warmth. It used to.

But it doesn’t.

After a meal of Szechuan from a questionable establishment (not questionably clean, just questionably Chinese) and The Devil Wears Prada (a movie Sebastian swore up and down he’d never watch again), Sebastian falls asleep with his head on Kurt’s chest. And Kurt lets him, even if he himself barely gets a minute of peace.

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #sebastian smythe #Kurt Hummel

[starrynite7114]

everything is you: nine

A/N: I figured, why not update this too? LOL So, I would like to already apologize. The first half of this chapter is very angsty and has mentions of sexual abuse. I know it gets tiring for this slow burn, but I promise it will be worth it. 

Thank you for all the support! I really appreciate it! Also, I posted the everything is you short: first meeting! Enjoy! Love you all!

everything is you

one : two : three : four : five : six : seven : eight

Word count: 9952

Warnings: Angst, sexual abuse, death

Masterlist

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @ifoundmyhappythought : @carlaangel86 : @woahitslucyylu : @encounterthepast : @enamoured-x : @thewarriorprincessxo : @briana-mishell24 : @bribri-82 : @chibsytelford : @agirllovespasta : @twistnet : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @trulysuccubus : @jadert15 : @sammskellington : @cind-in-real-life :  @claytoncardenasbabymama : @sadeyesgf : @thickemadame : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @elcococruz : @samcrobae : @sesamepancakes : @iambabyharry : @blackmissfrizzle : @mrs-losa : @1-800-imagines : @phoenixhalliwell : @lady-pswrld : @dazzledamazon  : @getyourcrayoncas : @fvckthisbxtchup : @lukealvxz : @scuzmunkie : @lilac-tea-time : @danie1432 : @cocotheclown : @soaronmywings : @my-rosegold-soul : @buttercup812 : @itskiranbitch : @angelreyesgirl : @sheeshgivemeabreak : @vicmackeybullshxt : @bigcreatorwombatdreamer : @khyharah : @strawberrywritings : @cherry-icetea : @fuzzy-jellyfish : @losolvidad0s : @brownsugarcoffy : @courtrae89 : @prdsdjarin : @blessedboo : @marvelmaree : @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead : @thesandbeneathmytoes : @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind : @maddie-georges : @pearlkitten33 : @aquamento : @incorrect-mcdanno : @that-chick212 : @imanerdychubbyqueen​

Thanks! @carlaangel86​ <3

Coco chuckled as he watched Alena take another shot. His baby sister called him over to San Diego and he decided to bring Riz over with him. Whenever Alena called he came and along with all his other brothers. They all had such a soft spot for Alena.

“Damn, so Monica is Cruz’s teacher? I mean, it’s been years, I’m sure it’s not a worry.” Riz reasoned with Alena.

“Doesn’t matter, he’ll be single soon and it’ll be just like all those romantic comedies and my Korean dramas.” Alena laughed before taking another shot. “It’s so smooth, I love drinking with you two. I hope we can still hang out once Angel and I are divorced.”

“Shut the fuck up Alena, we would disown Angel first before we would disown you.” Coco shook his head. “Why wasn’t Angel invited?”

“I don’t want to see Angel. We don’t always have to be together.”

Riz laughed. “Right, you tell him that.”

Angel has been blowing up Coco and Riz’s phone ever since they got to Alena’s. He was upset that he wasn’t invited, but he had to stay in Santo Padre and be with Cruz. Alena was in San Diego since she had a work emergency. 

“When was the longest time you didn’t see Angel? Was it the time he served?” Coco questioned. The club truly pulled through for Angel then, taking care of Alena and Cruz when he served time in jail a few years ago. 

It was a hellish 18 months and Cruz was only two years old. Alena held on strong and when he got out, Coco thought Angel would get his head out of his ass, he almost did, but this thing with the rebels popped through.

“Yeah, it was.” Alena frowned remembering that time. It was hard for her to be apart from Angel, but she tried to visit him all the time. His sentence was cut short to 18 months instead of the slated three. She was incredibly thankful for that. She documented every move Cruz made.

“Why didn’t you tell him how you felt when he got out?” Coco really hated watching this whole thing between Alena and Angel, mostly due to Alena. 

She was too good for him Angel. Not in the sense people thought, but more of the fact that, Alena was too kind to Angel. Out of her pure love for Angel, she stood by him regardless of his actions because she wanted to be there for him. He shouldn’t push her, but he wanted to. They were fucking adults, it was time to end the games.

“So when are you going to confess to Angel?” Riz questioned.

“The way I see it, you have nothing to lose Lenny.” Again, Coco was playing Devil’s Advocate, but maybe if Alena confessed, Angel would get his head out of his ass.

Alena was silent for a moment. She had nothing to lose, Coco was right. This also maybe the large amount of alcohol she consumed, but as people always said, her mother raised no bitch. “Fuck it, I’m going to call him.” Alena picked up her phone.

Riz and Coco picked up their shot glasses, encouraging her.

“Damn right, fuck social norms and tell that mother fucker you love him.” Riz encouraged. 

“You’re right!” Alena giggled, taking a swig straight from the Soju bottle. “Angel doesn’t love me, so the fuck what? I love him and he’s going to know.” 

Angel listened to Alena talking to whoever the fuck she was talking to, though he assumed it’s Coco and Riz since they told him that they would be going to Alena’s apartment. He wasn’t worried, he trusted them, but he was still antsy. His heart rate increased hearing Alena tell his brothers that she loved him, even if he didn’t love her.

He couldn’t wait to confess to this silly girl, the woman who’s had him since he could remember. 

“Cielo?” He called for her attention.

“Angel,” she dreamily greeted him. “How are you?”

“I’m good baby girl, are you doing okay?” He smirked, loving that tint of pink on her cheeks.

Alena nodded her head, biting her lip. “Do you have company?”

“Yeah baby, Cruz, but he’s asleep.” Angel moved his camera so she could see Cruz.

“My baby!” Alena squealed a little too loudly. She covered her mouth, giggling with Riz and Coco laughing in the background. 

“You having fun?”

“Always, they’re my favorite Mayans!” She blew kisses at the two who pretended to catch it. 

“What about me?” Angel pouted.

“You’re in a different league.” Alena scoffed, before she laughed. Angel loved seeing Alena so damn carefree. He just wished he was with her right now. “Angel, want to know a secret?” She moved closer to the screen, so she could whisper it to him. Drunk Alena was absolutely adorable, but she was also handsy. “I love you, not as a best friend, older brother type of love, which is disgusting, but I’m in love with you. I would give up anything for you. And I did, I gave up Paris for you because I just wanted you to have Cruz. When I first saw you hold Cruz, you should have seen the smile on your face.” 

Riz and Coco watched as Alena confessed to Angel. They slightly regretted encouraging her, but Alena needed this, so did Angel, Alena might not remember, which was fine, that’s what they’re here for, to record the whole thing. 

Angel felt his heart clenched as he watched the tears fall from Alena’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what Riz and Coco gave his wife, but he was appreciating this. It was definitely different to hear from Alena that she was going to walk away from him.

“I just want you to love me Angel. I want you to see me as more than a friend, I want you to love me, to hold me, to just be here for me.” Angel didn’t want Alena’s confession like this, but he figured this was as honest as he was going to get her without her self doubt plaguing her mind. “I remember during prom, I wanted you to take me because it would have been a magical night, but you took Emily’s friend to help EZ out. Then after that, every other woman came and you know, that’s okay, because you were happy. But I wanted you to look at me just once and tell me I was beautiful, that your eyes were only for me.” Alena wiped her eyes. “When I told you my coach was touching me inappropriately, you made no hesitation and helped me. When I told my father he accused me of not wanting to swim anymore, an ungrateful child. Then he kicked me out and you and your family took me in. I wanted to end my life, but it’s like you knew because you were always there when I was losing myself.” 

Riz and Coco’s heart broke as Alena told Angel how she felt. They always knew their relationship ran deep, but this was something else. Riz never knew about Alena’s coach, but Coco did. He also knew why Alena let the motherfucker touch him. Thinking about not having Alena in their lives, if she was successful with ending it all, their lives would be much dimmer, darker. And Angel wouldn’t be what he was, an obnoxious loved up puppy, who was honestly one of the best fathers’ they knew.

“But I know that you like being the hero, to take care of someone, which is why you tolerate me. I want to let you know that you don’t have to anymore. I love you, and because I do, I’m going to let you go. Fifteen years, I’ve been in love with you for fifteen years.” Alena smiled such a broken smile that Coco and Riz almost reached for her phone, but they were frozen. It was like she needed this, this had to happen. “You have Cruz now and when we divorce you’re free to do whatever you please, just please don’t take Cruz away from me. He’ll be all I have of you. I know he’s technically your son, but he’s my son too.”

Angel gripped the phone harder, the tears streaming down his face. Is this what he did to her? Is this how much he’s hurt her? He could never take Cruz away from her, he could never be away from her, neither of them could.

Alena took another drink of the bottle. “Want to know something pathetic?”

“Alena.” His voice was broken, running his fingers through his hair as the burden on Alena’s shoulders came out. 

“No, listen.” She placed her index finger against her lips, telling him to not speak. “I knew what I was getting into, knew what would happen if I let you in, but I didn’t care. For once, I felt like you saw me and it felt so good. We were a family, you, me and Cruz. You always made me feel wanted and loved during those brief moments that you would show how much you care for me. Dumb stupid and naive Alena.” She let out a sob, wiping the snot coming from her nose. “Every time I’m about to walk away you always reel me back in, but not this time. I’m letting you go, not to be with Victor or anything, but so you can meet the love of your life and have a family with her. I really wished we had a child, just so I can have them and Cruz.” She managed to smile into the camera. Finishing the bottle, she placed it on the table, not even registering Angel’s reaction to this whole thing. “I love you Angel Ignacio Reyes, and because of that, I wish you a lifetime of happiness and love, even without me. You don’t have to protect me anymore, remind me of my silly appointments and medication refills, you’ll be worry free, just like my father when he walked away from me. I won’t burden you with myself anymore.” She looked up at Riz and Coco. They could tell she was barely holding it together. The two looked at the broken young woman before them and immediately stood up. Riz took Alena, crushing her onto his chest while Coco took the phone. He looked at Angel who was a sobbing mess as well.

“I’m on my way.” 

EZ immediately came to take care of Cruz. He didn’t ask any questions, especially seeing how distraught Angel was and the fact he spoke to him. Angel got on his motorcycle and sped all the way to San Diego. When he arrived, Riz and Coco were on the couch, solemnly drinking. They looked up at him, ashamed of what occurred.

“Hermano, it wasn’t supposed to happen like that. She was telling us how much she loves you and we just encouraged her to confess to you since she had nothing to lose, we knew she had nothing to lose.” Coco sniffled, wiping his eyes. “I didn’t expect for her to,” Coco sighed. “You have to fix this Angel, Alena deserves better than this.”

“Where is she?” 

“Her room, she worked herself up and had an asthma attack.” Riz frowned. “She’s fine, we remembered how to use her nebulizer and gave her medications. She’s better now.”

“Thank you.” Angel’s eyes were locked on Alena’s closed door. “You two know where the futon and shit is.”

“Don’t worry about it, we got it. Just take care of your wife.” Coco’s heart broke watching Alena work herself up. They wanted to give Alena the night off, to release her inhibitions, but not like this. They both knew they wouldn’t leave till they saw Alena up and breathing later on in the day. 

Angel quickly made his way to her room, quietly opening and closing the door. He found Alena on the bed, still crying but not as worked up. She didn’t even get up to check who it was.

“Coco, can you get me more Soju, I feel like it’s leaving my body.” Alena giggled. “I can smell Angel.” 

Angel would have laughed if he wasn’t hurting so much. He did all of this shit to Alena, he hurt her so much. No amount of groveling would ever forgive his sins, but from now on, he was going to make sure he would treat her better, be better for her.

He was in such distress, he didn’t even put on his kutte. He just had sweatpants on and a hoodie. Taking off his hoodie, he placed it on Alena’s chair. Alena was facing her side of the bed. He put one knee on her bed and Alena still didn’t turn to face him. He laid on his side, placing a hand on her hip.

“Hey baby,” he whispered into her ear as he made himself comfortable.

Alena turned to face him then, her eyes were red from all the crying, eyelids puffy. She smiled and placed her hand on his cheek.

“Oh man, I must have drank so much, I’m imagining that Angel is here.” She caressed his cheek. “Hello Imaginary Angel, you feel and smell real.”

Angel had to smile at that. “You doing okay?” He brushed her hair back, making Alena close her eyes.

“Yes Imaginary Angel.” She offered him a small smile. “I hope Real Angel doesn’t hate me because of everything I put him through.”

“Alena, I could never hate you.” He felt his tears well up again. Hearing Alena say all those things, how she was going to kill herself, how he tolerated her, and how she was a burden, it shattered Angel’s heart. How could she even think that? “How can you think you’re a burden to me? That I tolerate you?”

“Because everyone does. I’m the girl that everyone walks all over and forgets. I’m the one that everyone needs till I serve my purpose. I’m the one that gives, because I want to help everyone. I’m sickly, weak, and everyone just tolerates me because they need me.” Alena took her hand off Angel’s face, placing it in between them. “All the women who befriended me wanted an in with Real Angel, EZ or my brother. Carla is the only person I genuinely have. Real Angel likes being the hero, he feels second best to his brother, which is crazy because he’s better than EZ. He has a big heart and he always saved me when I needed him. Maybe you can visit me imaginary Angel, so I won’t miss real Angel as much.” She closed her eyes, covering her mouth as she coughed. “I’m preparing for the day he walks away, but it’s really hard.” Her eyes opened, a few tears falling from her eyes, her voice breaking as she said the last word. Her voice was just above a whisper.

Fuck, Alena was killing him.

“Alena, listen to me. I love you, I really do, I’m sorry I took as long as I did, but you’re the love of my life. It’s not about tolerating you, you’re never been a burden to me. If anything, I felt you were tolerating me. That I was burdening you. You do so much for me and I’m a fucking idiot for never noticing. I’ve taken advantage of you, but never again.” And that was a promise. “You’ve done so much for me and Cruz. He loves you as much as I love you, maybe even more. You’re our life Alena. Don’t prepare for a life without me, because there is no life without you.”

Alena giggled, pinching Angel’s cheek. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Imaginary Angel is saying all the things I want real Angel to say. I hope you visit me often when Angel divorces me.” Alena snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her running his fingers through her hair.  “Imaginary Angel, I love Angel so much. Want to know a secret? The coach told me that if I didn’t let him touch me, that he would hurt Angel, cause he noticed how Angel always waited for me after practice. But don’t tell Angel because I never told him.” 

Angel froze hearing Alena’s words. 

That motherfucker did what now?

No, Alena would have told him.

No.

He pulled away from her and noticed how heavy her eyes were she was getting sleepy.

“Alena, hey, wake up.” He cupped her face, softly rubbing his thumb on her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open, giving him a sleepy smile.

“Please tell me that isn’t true, please don’t tell me it is.”

“About the coach? It was imaginary Angel, he told me that if I told anyone, no one would believe me. That real Angel wouldn’t want me anymore cause I was tainted.” Alena intertwined their hands in between them. “He told me to think of real Angel while he was touching me, that I would enjoy it more. I didn’t, and he would get mad and hit me.” Alena frowned, looking at Angel’s chest as she spoke. “He tried to rape me the day Angel took that video of us. I never told Angel that my father let him in our home and he touched me there too. My father trusted him because he was the son of an old friend.”

Angel sat up, he couldn’t take it. Alena didn't do this, not for him. He wasn’t worth it. How could she let that happen? The rage within him was strong, beyond anything he ever felt. That motherfucker touched his precious Alena, using him for her nightmare.

He was going to find this motherfucker and he was going to kill him.

“Imaginary Angel, real Angel has been my hero and I would never want anyone to hurt him.”

“So it’s okay for you to be hurt for me?” Angel didn’t mean to be harsh, but he was angry.

“I can take it, for him I could. I’m strong to you know, for him and Cruz I am.”

“Alena,” Angel wiped his tears, running his fingers through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me? You had every opportunity to do so, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because he said he would hurt real Angel, I couldn’t risk that. Angel is all I have. My family could turn their backs on me, but he never did.” Alena looked down at him. “Can you hold me again imaginary Angel, you feel like real Angel and I just want to cherish every moment we have left together. Please come visit me when he’s gone.”

Angel hated that she was preparing for this life without him. That she was preparing to endure for him again as long as he was happy. He always planned on being better for Alena, but he definitely was this time around. There was no way Alena was going to do this again, keep things to herself. They were a team, a unit and he was going to have her believe it.

Angel immediately held her. He couldn’t stop the tears from coming down from his eyes. He was going to fix this, Alena would never have to feel this type of pain again. Once everything settled, he was going to find that coach and fucking kill him, something he should have done ages ago.

“It’s going to kill me to see him with someone else.” Alena was running her fingers up and down his back.

“You’re never going to see that cause I love you and only you.” Angel knew this reassurance wouldn’t register, but he would prove it to her.

Alena laughed. “Imaginary Angel, you really are saying everything I want Real Angel to say. You know, I hope he dates Adelita when we divorce. She would be good for him, he needs a strong woman to hold him down. Or maybe Monica, cause she’s good with kids and she was the one that got away.”

“You don’t think you’re strong cielo? You’re the strongest person I know.” And she was. For having to deal with him, Alena was the strongest person he knew. This was killing him. How could he want anyone else when he had her? “She isn’t the one that got away Alena, I willingly let her go.”

“Real Angel really loved her. And now she’s back, it’s like a romantic movie.” He heard her voice crack at her last word. He told her not to worry about it when they dropped off Cruz a few days ago, it was silly of him to think it would register or sink in for Alena.

“Alena, I fucking told you, Monica doesn’t mean anything to me.” 

“It’s okay, Imaginary Angel, you’re really boosting my confidence.” Alena giggled. 

“You’re driving me insane Alena. I don’t need anyone else, but you. If there is anyone that would be the one that got way, it would be you and that’s never going to happen.” Angel was determined to make Alena his, at least in her eyes because for everyone else, it’s been them for a long time. 

“Victor told me that he was going to help me become stronger. He’s such a nice guy. I would date him just so it’ll make the aching for Angel less.”

Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

“That’s not going to happen Alena, I told you, it’s you and me. I’m not going to divorce you.”

“Maybe not you imaginary Angel.” Alena giggled again, rubbing her face against his chest. “You’re so warm. Want to know what sucks?”

“What?”

“I let Victor kiss me to see how it felt and it was nothing compared to Real Angel.” Alena sighed. “I’m pathetic. Everyone is compared to Angel, but I’m sure all the girls Angel dated, I fail in comparison to, especially Monica.” That wasn’t true. They failed in comparison to her. “When that woman was sewing his patch on, that hurt. But Angel was moving up in the club and I was so happy. I’m really going to have to avoid him, which is why I’m moving to New York.”

Angel did not like all the revelations that were going on. 

“New York?”

“Sssh, don’t tell Real Angel. Victor has been talking to me about this art program there and I really want to try. It would help since my life revolves around Angel. I’ll still be here for Cruz and visit him whenever I can, but I’m going to leave, unlike Paris, I’m going to go and nothing is going to stop me.”

She was doing it again. She was plotting to leave him.

Jokes on her because that just wasn’t happening.

“You think I would let you go?”

Alena pulled away from him, looking up at Angel.

“Well hopefully you don’t imaginary Angel, you’re going to keep me sane.” She bopped his nose with her finger. “But real Angel won’t care, he already has Cruz, I’m not useful anymore. Remember I told you, everyone cares till I’m no longer useful and I’m not. Geez, pay attention.” She laughed. “He can be with Monica.”

Angel wanted to shake Alena. How could she even think he wouldn’t care about her leaving him? How could she think Monica was the one that got away? That was hardly the case. Most of all, how could she think that he was going to throw her away because she was no longer useful? This was ridiculous.

“I know this isn’t registering to you right now, but I’m going to prove to you that I love you and I’m worth it. You’re the love of my life Alena, I would never let you go. I’m a selfish bastard and that’s fine, as long as I have you. I would be lost without you.”

Alena remained silent. And Angel wasn’t sure if she fell asleep.

“You think he’ll miss me.”

“I always miss you.”

Alena’s breathing evened out, her body relaxing against his. Angel laid on his back, placing Alena’s head on his chest. He was done with the games. His girl needed him and he would give her the world, whatever it took.

Angel reluctantly left Alena since he didn’t want her to freak out knowing he came to San Diego. He knew Alena wouldn’t be ready to talk about it, he wouldn’t push her either. So now, he was waiting with Cruz anxiously as Alena made her way down from San Diego. Coco and Riz stayed and he requested for them not to mention anything. This was between him and Alena.

The door opened and Cruz immediately jumped down the couch.

“Mama!” He ran over to Alena and she picked him up, showering him with kisses. 

“Hey Cruzie,” she cooed, rubbing their noses together. “Mama missed you.”

“I missed you!” He wrapped his arms around her neck. He peppered her with kisses as well making Alena smile.

Angel stood up and walked over to Alena. He took Cruz and placed him on the ground, making the young boy frown.

“Daddy, it’s Cruzie and mommy time.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I know little man. Daddy deserves love too.” Angel chuckled. He couldn’t help it. He hugged her, pulled away, cupped her face and kissed her. “Hey baby.” He pecked her lips one more time before stepping away. He saw the blush on her cheeks as she smiled, looking down at Cruz, not wanting to meet Angel’s gaze. He wasn’t obtuse of the effect he had on her, but after last night, he knew to not take advantage of what he had with Alena. His heart was still hurting.

She let that despicable man touch her to protect him. 

The rage he felt was indescribable. He felt powerless because he should have ended this man’s life. Alena told him it was only for a few months, but he doubted that now.

He was certain that it was ongoing for more than six months and that hurt him again. His precious Alena endured for him and whatever he suffered through was nothing. She thought he didn’t want her. His hot and coldness towards her left a mark. This would be something he’ll try to fix for the rest of their lives, but that was fine because Alena was worth it. 

They all sat on the couch, Alena strategically placing Cruz in between them.

“I was thinking we should go to the zoo tomorrow.” Angel’s eyes were just focused on Alena. Her confession, New York, everything was plaguing his mind. 

“Um, sure, I’ll ask Letty if she wants to come.” Alena kept her eyes trained on the television, PJ Mask was a stationary in their household.

“How was your night?” Angel questioned.

“Good, it says I FaceTimed you, did I really do that?” Alena hoped she didn’t say anything crazy. She had the craziest dream that she had a full blown confession to Angel and she was talking to an imaginary Angel. God, her dreams could be so vivid at times. 

“Yeah, you, Coco and Riz were just messing around.” 

Alena nodded their head. “Yeah, I had like eight bottles of Soju last night, unwinding to the fullest.”

Angel chuckled. “I bet. You doing good baby?”

Alena finally looked over at Angel and she smiled, nodding her head. “Yes, why? Am I missing something?”

“I’m just checking on you cielo.” 

“You don’t have to, I’m okay.”

“How can I not, you’re my wife, I always have to make sure you’re okay.”

Alena nodded her head. “Well from now on, don’t even fret over me, I’m fine.” 

This was it, she was pushing him away again. But not this time. He wasn’t going to let her.

“Tough shit Alena, I worry about you so regardless if you want it or not, I’m always going to check in.”

“You don’t have to worry about me Angel, you know I would tell you if something is going on. I’m an adult, I can handle myself you know.” Alena was curious why Angel was looking at her like she would break apart any minute. She didn’t like it and made her feel something else occurred last night.

“But that’s the thing, you wouldn’t tell me if something was bothering you because you’re trying to spare me.”

Alena was confused by his statement. Though it was true, she wondered why Angel was bringing it up.

Cruz looked at his father then his mother, cuddling closer to Alena. “Do I have a sibling yet?”

Alena and Angel looked at one another, bursting out in laughter. The tension that was rising was broken by their son.

“I thought we agreed on a puppy?” Alena scooped Cruz in her arms, blowing raspberries on his tummy. The gleeful shriek he let out made Angel chuckle.

“No, baby sister.” Cruz shook his head looking over at his father. “Right daddy? Baby sister?” Angel nodded his head in agreement. He wanted a little Alena.

“Why do you want a sister Cruzie? You don’t want a little brother?” Alena questioned.

“No, little sister so she looks like you.” Cruz crawled onto Alena’s lap. He placed his hands on her cheeks. “Then I can take care of her and protect her.”

Alena smiled, thinking of how much of a great big brother Cruz would be. “Yeah Cruzie? What will we name your baby sister if you get one?”

“Mmm,” Cruz thought for a moment. “Alena.”

Alena and Angel both chuckled. 

“Little man, we can’t name your baby sister after mama.” Angel turned to face them, his hand resting on Alena’s thigh. “How about Isabella?”

“I like that!” 

Alena and Angel listened to Cruz as he talked about all the things he could do with his baby sister. Angel looked up at Alena, her confession last night was still in his mind. He was thinking of all the things he could do for his wife, to prove to her that he was as devoted to her as she was to him. Maybe he couldn’t give up opportunities outside of Santo Padre like she could because he was a fuck up and stupid compared to his brother, but he’ll show her he was worthy.

==========

Angel pushed the cart down the aisle, looking at the list Alena gave him. Every once in a while, Angel did the grocery shopping to let Alena rest. She always did the grocery runs for the club and Vicky’s, the least he could do was to do it for their family. He left Cruz and Alena asleep on their bed after a morning of family painting. Much like while they’re sitting watching television, Alena kept her distance, mostly sticking by Cruz. 

He knew what she was doing, and this was not going to go on for long, not if he could help it.

Coco dumped four bags of chips in the cart, Angel giving him an incredulous look.

“First of all, who the fuck needs these much chips. Second of all, Alena likes the kettle chips, not plain old Lays.” Angel kept the Lays Cheddar Cheese and Sour Cream since he knew Alena liked that, but otherwise he took the other three bags, giving it back to Coco. “You call yourself her best friend? She doesn’t like any of the other ones.”

“They’re for me, idiot. Gilly has Alena’s picks.” Coco scoffed, placing the bags back down. Sure enough, Gilly came with a bag of the Lays a Cheddar Cheese along with the Ruffles version of the flavor. He had the kettle chips, original and the jalapeño ones as well. 

“You don’t usually go grocery shopping, you in the dog house?” Gilly questioned as he placed the bags down. 

“Surprised you haven’t told Gilly.” Angel continued to push the cart, adding the pasta sauce Alena requested. She made it easy on him, listing the exact brands and the alternatives he could get.

“He told me.” Gilly had his arms crossed, blocking Angel’s way. “So what’s the plan?”

“With what?” Angel grabbed a box of spaghetti, fettuccine and penne. 

“Alena, are you going to confess soon or are you going to continue to let her wallow on feeling unworthy of your love.”

Angel placed the list down on top of the eggs, narrowing his eyes at Gilly. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I don’t have to explain anything to you. What’s going on between me and my wife is between us. I appreciate your concern for my wife,” he emphasized the last two words. “But I plan on telling her what is going on soon.”

“You always say that, then you get fucking cold feet and you take back what you say. It’s different this time, I know. But how much more can Alena take? This girl devoted her life to you and the best you can do is confess to her? I get it, that would mean the world to her, but you have to give her a little more Angel. She’s moved mountains for you and took care of your son.” Angel was his brother, something he recognized and held dearly, but much like everyone, he watched this dance for far too long. Last night was what broke the camel’s back for everyone. It seemed that it was a consensus that decided that if Angel took back his words this time, they would make it a point to get Alena the fuck away from him. They wouldn’t let her stand by him. Angel was their brother, but this was tough love.

“You don’t think I fucking know that? You don’t think I know that she gave up her dreams so she can help me? I don’t need you reminding of my shortcomings with Alena cause it’s always in the back of my mind.” Angel didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the grocery aisle, but he was thankful that it was early in the afternoon. “I’m not going to take it back. Even though you fuckers hope I do so you can make a move, you all can fuck yourselves.” Angel knew it wasn’t true, but he wanted to push this aside. This wasn’t the right place for this conversation.

“You’re a damn idiot.” Gilly shook his head, moving out of the way. 

The boys continued to get everything on Alena’s list, adding a few things they knew her and Cruz would like. As they made their way to the check out lines, Angel looked over to the side, almost bumping the cart. His eyes landed on Alena’s former coach, Coach Marvin Henderson. As soon as Marvin’s eyes landed on Angel, his eyes drifted to his kutte, Gilly and Coco before immediately turning the other way. Angel could tell how the fear just sunk in on his body, that tensed up. He kept looking back making sure Angel didn’t follow. He was with a woman who looked to be his wife, she was his girlfriend then, and she knew what he did then. Her eyes landed on Angel and she pushed him forward, to create as much distance as possible.

But no distance would be too great to Angel.

His clock was ticking and even he knew that.

Their reputation preceded them, everyone in this small town spoke of them, whether it was out of fear, disdain, or awe, everyone in the town knew what they were capable of. Marvin had left town twelve years ago, Angel made sure he wouldn’t dare return and since he had, the consequences of his disregard to Angel’s warning would be paid in full.

“You know that guy?” Gilly questioned.

“That was Alena’s coach.” Coco was already around then, he knew this guy. “Are you going to take care of that?” Coco turned to Angel. 

“Yep.”

==========

The three Mayans came home and found Alena awake. Cruz was still napping and Alena was doing the laundry. 

Angel noticed that Alena was wiping her eyes and frowned. He walked over to her, softly calling out to her. “Cielo?” Alena didn’t answer, tilting his head, he noticed that she had her headphones on.

She looked up and wiped her eyes. “Hey! I didn’t hear you guys.” She took off her headphones. “Sorry, it was the confession part in my drama and I was just listening to it.” She laughed. Moving to the side she waved hello to Gilly and Coco who were bringing stuff in. “Are you guys staying for dinner? I’m making that baked ziti you guys like.”

“Fuck yes!” Coco called out as he walked out of the door to grab the rest of the bags.

“You spoil us Lenny.” Gilly added.

“Wait, no, it’s family dinner tonight. They can go fuck off.” Angel wiped her tears, reminding him of how she looked last night. He fucking hated seeing her cry. It didn’t even matter if it was some show that made her cry, he hated seeing it.

“I’m okay,” she moved her face away, picking up the basket of clothing she brought in from the garage. 

“Why do you keep pulling away from me?” Angel also hated it when Alena wouldn’t let him comfort her. He fucking got it, she was trying to get used to living without him, but tough shit, that wasn’t happening.

“I’m not, I don’t need you to wipe my tears, I’m fine.” She walked over to her room and just as he’s about to follow her, Coco stopped him. 

“What’s up?”

“They found him, he lives two streets over.” Coco showed him the text message from Riz. “What’s the plan?”

“We fucking kill him.”

“Kill who?” 

Angel and Coco turned to Alena who was holding the empty laundry basket. She eyed them curiously, unsure of what she walked into. Alena wasn’t obtuse and Angel told her everything. 

“We’re gonna kill Creeper, he’s being such a pain in the ass.” Angel chuckled, lying smoothly. “He fucked the order up for our work shirts.”

“Oh, I ordered it for him.”

Coco had to hold back a laugh along with Gilly as Angel scrambled to come up with an excuse.

“Did I say work shirt? Sorry baby, I meant some club shirts he ordered.” Angel felt like an idiot. How could he forget that Alena was the one who ordered their work shirts?

“No it’s okay, no big deal.” Alena laughed it off, slightly enjoying how freaked out Angel appeared. She went back to the garage leaving the three stooges behind.

“You couldn’t tell me she was behind me?”

“I didn’t fucking see her either with you blocking her.” Coco chuckled. “So we doing this tonight?”

“No point in prolonging it, I want him gone. He’s never going to touch my wife ever again.” Angel was quite pleased that Marvin had decided to show his face again. From what they gathered, he’s been back for months, thinking past grievances have been buried. But they haven’t. 

“Are you going to tell her?” Coco nodded his head towards the closed garage door.

“She wouldn’t want for us to kill him.” Angel sighed. He should tell Alena, but she didn’t need to know. She didn’t need this in her conscience. 

==========

Angel walked out of the clubhouse, the night time sky finally taking over. He didn’t want to prolong this since Alena and Cruz were waiting for him. They already had dinner, and made some excuse that Bishop needed them at the clubhouse to keep Alena from questioning anything. But she hardly ever did. She always waited till Angel was ready to tell her. He walked past EZ, not sparing his brother a glance. Coco and Gilly flanked his sides. Gilly unlocked the van slipping in the driver’s seat. Coco covered the license plate.

“Make sure you do this clean, burn their bodies on the other side.” Bishop advised. 

Angel nodded his head and slid in the passenger side. God bless technology and Riz being a whiz, they figured out that the two lived at a home two streets away from Alena and Angel’s home. The fact this mad has the audacity to move so close pissed off Angel. There were no cameras and if there were, they were cutting the power. 

It was close to one in the morning and Angel was going to make sure these two wastes would never see the light of day again. 

They arrived at the street, parking a block away. Before going inside, they slipped on their ski masks, kutte tucked in the van. Angel’s signature chains were missing so they wouldn’t be able to identify them. Coco and Gilly went to the back, cutting the electricity off. 

The two were still awake, so a shriek was heard due to Marvin’s wife freaking out. Angel knocked on the door, waiting for someone to open it. The door opened, it was Marvin. Angel immediately punched him on the face, and before his wife could let out another shriek, he shot her right in the head. The silencer muffled any sound and she dropped to the ground. Marvin wanted to scream upon seeing his wife’s lifeless body, but he expected this.

He didn’t want to move back, but Sheila became cocky, thinking that whatever happened all those years ago was forgotten, he knew better.

Angel locked the door as Marvin moved away from Angel.

“If you want money, I have twenty five thousand dollars in the safe upstairs.”

“Why the fuck would you keep twenty-five grand in your safe?” Coco wasn’t even sure why he would ask, but why would a coach stash that much fucking money at home?

“Or do you want the drugs? They’re in the safe too.”

“Drugs?” Gilly looked at Angel.

Whatever this man was saying was not registering. All he could think about was Alena’s confession and how this man threatened to hurt him, how he used to hurt her, and how he made her life miserable.

‘He told me to think of real Angel while he was touching me, that I would enjoy it more. I didn’t, and he would get mad and hit me.’

Angel took off his mask and Marvin immediately backed away further.

“Angel, man, I left when you asked me to leave.” Marvin was intimidated by Angel then all those years ago. For a nineteen year old, he had an intimidating presence that even rattled Marvin. He knew sexually assaulting Alena was wrong, but she was such a sweet innocent girl, he couldn’t help it. 

“So why did you come back?” Angel made his way over to him, Marvin hitting the wall behind him, he had no more escape. 

“Because I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Do you know that her father kicked her out of their home? Cause he couldn’t believe that you would ever do something so despicable to someone you’ve known since she was a child?” Angel looked menacing. Coco and Gilly cleaned up Sheila, leaving Angel knowing this was something he needed to do on his own. “Did you know that she hasn’t swam in years because every time she did, she would panic thinking of you? Did you know that she had a hard time being intimate since the only thing she could think about were the despicable actions you did to her?” Angel crouched down in front of him, placing the muzzle of his gun resting against Marvin’s head. “You told her to think of me when you touched her, cause it would feel good since you knew she liked me.”

“She loved you Angel.” Marvin’s tears streamed down his face, mixing with the blood coming down from his nose. “I heard you were married, why does it matter what happened with Alena? You obviously got rid of her.”

Angel chuckled, leaning over so he was right beside his ear. “She’s my wife.” He growled out.

Marvin froze then. 

How could he be so stupid to think that Alena wasn’t his wife. He’s seen Alena around town, but he made sure that their paths never crossed, he knew once they did, he would be done for. Though he prayed that maybe Angel was no longer in Alena’s life since he was married. Unfortunately for him, he ran into Angel. He and Sheila were going to leave tomorrow and never look back. If he thought Angel looked menacing then, it was a whole nother level now. 

“Angel, listen, you want money? It’s yours. The drugs I have in the safe are worth at least ten grand. I’ll leave right now and never look back, just please, don’t kill me.” He couldn’t beg for Sheila’s life, but he could plead for his.

“When she pleaded for you to stop, did you stop?” Angel roughly grabbed his chin, pushing his head against the muzzle of his gun. 

Marvin sobbed harder, he knew he wouldn’t win this. Cause he didn’t stop, he would hit her or tell her to do it for Angel. 

“You didn’t right?” Angel let go of his chin, hitting him with the back of his gun. “Answer me motherfucker, did you fucking stop?”

“No, I didn’t.” He managed to sob out, sobs that increased when he heard Angel cock back his barrel. “Angel, I’m sorry, please, I can’t take back what I did, but if I could, I would.” His eyes drifted to Coco and Gilly who also had their guns out. “I apologize to her, I saw her a few years back, she was with her kid. She forgave me.” Well, maybe she didn’t and she looked frightened more than anything, but to him, he said his piece and he apologized. That counted for something. 

He remembered that, she called him frightened and was scared that Marvin would hurt Cruz. She thought she was being irrational, but he understood her fear and now, he further understood why she thought he would use Cruz against her.

She had nightmares for two weeks, screaming for Marvin to stop, she had to take some time off work. It was hell and Angel remembered how she wouldn’t tell him the extent of Marvin’s actions. He didn’t push her, he just held her.

He didn’t give a flying fuck if Marvin thought she forgave him. Angel didn’t, and even if she did that didn’t save his life.

Angel didn’t reply and stood up. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I didn’t end your life fucking sooner.” Before Marvin could even utter a reply, Angel unloaded his clip on him. He thought it would be satisfying, and it was, but it could never take back his actions towards Alena.

But at least he was preventing it from occurring again.

“You okay?” He heard Coco ask.

Coco and Gilly stood by, watching, hearing Marvin’s words. They felt for Alena and were glad that Angel took care of him.

“No, but I will be.”

==========

Alena woke up, rubbing her eyes. She fell asleep watching the Punisher. She was trying to make a mental note as to where she left off. She sat up and gasped when she saw the silhouette of a person sitting on her armchair. She quickly grabbed her glasses and found Angel sitting down. It was a deja vu moment when she found him sitting down, flipping his keys around after what occurred with EZ.

“Angel?” She called out. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“A few hours.” Angel came home and didn’t even undress. The dirt of the desert was still present on his clothing. When he entered their room, the Punisher was playing, with Alena sound asleep, her head on his pillow. He wasn’t even sure why he shed tears. It wasn’t for Marvin. It was for what occurred with Alena. He sighed. “Can you please come here?”

Alena followed his request, stopping a few feet away from him.

“Cielo, just please come closer, can I hold you?”

Alena was reluctant and her reluctance wounded Angel. But as quick as her reluctance appeared, she quickly sat on his lap, leaning back so her weight was more towards his knees.

“You know I’ll always protect you, right?” Angel placed a hand on her hip and another cupped her face.

She nodded her head. “Of course.” She placed her hand on top of the one that rested on her face. A few strands of his hair were on his forehead. She combed his hair back with her fingers, Angel’s eyes closing at the sensation.

“Do you trust me?” He opened his eyes.

“With my life.”

Angel pulled her against him, surprising Alena. He had his head buried at the crook of her neck, Alena wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you all those years ago, but that’ll never happen again.”

“What are you talking about?” Alena was confused, but she continued to hold him.

“With your coach, I should have caught on when you stopped hugging me, when you flinched whenever I came close to you. When you began to wear clothing that covered your whole body during the summer.” Angel sighed, his warm breath against her skin.

“It’s okay, Angel. No one could have known. You’ve done so much for me, please don’t fret over me. I’m good, I can take care of myself.” Alena assured him.

“Stop pulling away from me. I know what you’re trying to do, trying to practice some crazy scenario where I’m no longer around, pulling away so it’ll hurt less. Stop it.” He sat back, his hands resting on her thighs, running them up and down. “I love you Alena, there’s never going to be a life where I don’t have you beside me. I get it, you’re trying to protect your heart, but please give me a chance.”

Alena didn’t know what to say. Angel has said I love you to her before, numerous times actually. But this felt different.

‘No, don’t be stupid. This is how you always fall back in. You can keep Angel in your life without any expectations from him.’

She leaned forward, crushing their lips together and Angel immediately responded. She rested her arms around the nape of his neck, moaning against his mouth as she felt Angel’s fingers graze the skin under her breast, his hand had slipped inside her shirt. She pulled away, placing kisses on his jawline down his neck. She bit down, making Angel groan and thrust up into her. Kissing him one more time, she palmed his growing erection making Angel moan out her name. They hadn’t been intimate like this for some time and Angel needed her.

“Sorry, I’m on my period.” She stood up, Angel’s mouth dropping open when he saw the devilish smirk on his sweet, innocent Alena. He turned her into this and he was so fucking proud.

“Oh baby, just wait till you’re done with your cycle.” He smacked her ass. “Or we can fuck in the shower, is it your first day?” Angel stood up, wrapping his arms around her from behind. 

He nibbles at her ear making Alena giggle. “It is, sorry.” She went to use the bathroom, walking back to the room, Angel was waiting outside.

“I gotta take a shower, want to join?”

Alena shook her head, kissed his cheek and went back to bed. Alena was half asleep when Angel joined her in bed, pulling her against him. 

“You never have to worry about that coach ever again cielo.” She felt his lips on her forehead, and as much as she wanted to ask for clarification, sleep took over.

==========

Alena filled out the form for the eye doctor. Angel sat beside her, playing candy crush on his phone. Alena didn’t want him to come, but Angel insisted since he didn’t want for her to go alone. Currently, Alena was on a two week break from work since Mr. Johnson attended one of his nieces’ wedding. Victor invited Alena, but she declined. 

“So, your cycle usually lasts 4 days?” Angel asked in a low tone.

She looked at him and that devilish smirk was ridiculous, but honestly sexy. “Yes, it’s my 3rd day though, so, sorry.” Alena has been teasing Angel. He literally woke up to her giving him a blowjob yesterday morning. He wasn’t complaining, but as soon as he offered to do something to her, she would swat his hand away and walk away, preparing Cruz for school. Today, he woke up to her giving him a hand job and there was just so much he could take without touching her.

Alena was driving him insane.

“Cielo, you keep teasing me, you know payback is a bitch right?” 

“Ssh,” Alena shushed him as she continued to fill out the form.

Angel just chuckled, going back to his game.

Alena gave the form and did a few tests before the Ophthalmologist saw her. Alena really didn’t want Angel to go since her Ophthalmologist, Dr. Wu was kind of cute. It was definitely nice eye candy to have. 

When they called her to the back, Alena somehow convinced Angel to just stay behind. She was led to one of the examination rooms and thanked the assistant Maggie.

“Your husband is quite good looking.” Maggie commented making Alena laugh. Her eye doctor was in another town, so they weren’t exactly familiar with the Mayans.

“Thanks Maggie.” 

Alena sat down on the chair, waiting for Dr. Wu to arrive. Once he did, Alena sat up straight and smiled. He was a good looking man, who was kind and had a really nice smile. His hair was short in length, slightly spiked up on the front ends.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite patient, how are you Alena?” Dr. Wu walked in with her file.

Alena blushed. “Good, but we both know your favorite is my mother.”

“Not true, though I do tell your mother she’s my favorite so she won’t hurt me.” Dr. Wu was a family friend. Prior to her father leaving, she saw Nick often. They eventually lost touch and recently reconnected a few years back.

Alena laughed at that. “And I don’t blame you. My mother is quite intimidating.”

Angel was busy playing his game, wondering if Alena always took this long to finish with her eye appointment. It’s been thirty minutes and he was certain it didn’t take this long. The door opened and when he looked up, his brows furrowed. Alena walked out, eyes trained on the man with her. The waiting room was empty since it was lunch time and she was the last patient they took before closing for lunch. He gave her a bag and smiled down at her. Before Angel could even register what was going on, the doctor hugged Alena, a little too long for his liking and pulled away.

Now he knew why she wanted him to stay behind.

It was Nick Wu, her old childhood friend that he saw her with from time to time when he picked her up. He never introduced himself, and Nick never bothered either.

“It was nice seeing you again, you should definitely come to my parents’ wedding anniversary. Your mom and brother are going. And if it makes you feel more at ease, your father isn’t invited.” Nick wasn’t an idiot and knew what occurred with their family. 

“I’ll let you know, thanks again Dr. Wu.” Alena beamed up at him.

“Lena, you can call me Nick. It’s not like we haven’t known one another.”

“You ready to go babe?” Angel cut in, wrapping an arm around Alena’s shoulders. He looked at this doctor and smirked. “I’m Angel, Alena’s husband.” He stuck his hand out. 

“Nick, pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard great things about you.” He shook his hand. And he has, Alena’s mother always gushed about Angel and Alena has mentioned him a few times. 

“Wish I could say the same about you.” 

“I’ll see you, bye Nick.” She wrapped an arm around Angel and pulled him away from the office. 

Once they exited, Angel didn’t let her go until they got to her car. He opened the door for her and she slid in, placing her purse on the floor. Angel slid in at the driver’s side, turning the car on.

“What was that?” Angel turned to look over at Alena. 

“Hmm?” 

“Is that why you prefer to go alone? Cause it’s Nick?” Angel was jealous, he could admit that. Alena always preferred going to her eye doctor alone and now it made sense.

“Angel, he’s like an old family friend.” Alena explained.

“That I’ve never met.”

“Yes, it happens. Nick never came to Santo Padre.” Alena replied. “And you’ve met him, well sort of, when you used to pick me up from school.”

Angel narrowed his eyes. “Is he married?”

“No, he’s single I believe.” Alena wasn’t exactly sure since she never actually asked Nick. “I’m not sure, I don’t really ask him.”

“Is he one of the people your mother had lined up for you?”

“I don’t know? What’s with all the questions?” Alena smiles teasingly. “Are you jealous?”

“Alena, what kind of a fucking question is that? Of course I am. I didn’t even fucking know he was still a part of your life.” He didn’t like Nick then, he still didn’t now. Angel was unreasonable, but he always liked being number one in Alena’s life. Nick came close to replacing him and he could never forget that.

“Angel, he’s just an old family friend. Don’t worry about him.” Alena didn’t want Angel to be upset over nothing. She didn’t like Nick in that way. He was good looking, but she wouldn’t want to be with someone who had such a close connection to her father. And she also never saw him in that way. She admired him, but it just stayed there.

Angel didn’t reply and drove off. It’s not like he didn’t trust Alena, but it was crazy how he was more aware of all the men he could have lost Alena too. 

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, he just had a small run with the club and he went with Alena to her eye appointment. She got new glasses, so he was glad they went today. He was still thinking about that doctor. He didn’t think Alena was cheating on him, but it just made him uneasy. Were there other men that Alena didn’t tell him about? Alena was also oblivious to men hitting on her unless it was very straightforward.

“Angel?” He looked over at Alena who was standing at the end of the couch where his feet were. He was relaxing here since he wanted to watch television and not bother Alena. And he also might be upset at her little display at the doctor’s office.

“Cielo, you okay?” Angel grimaced seeing the tears in Alena’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Can you just hold me? If you don’t want to, it’s okay,” Alena approached him, frowning at how small she felt. She hated reliving that assault with her former coach. “Never mind, sorry.”

Angel grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. Alena laid on top of him, wrapping her arms around Angel. 

”I got you, I always do.” He never knew he would miss holding her as much as he did, but he truly missed her. He kissed her forehead, running his fingers through her hair.

“Thank you.”

“You want to go out to brunch tomorrow?”

“With Cruz?”

“No baby, just you and me.”

“Sure.” He could hear Alena fading and he felt himself fading.

This was all he wanted in his life, to have Alena in his arms. 

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fic #angel reyes fanfic #mayans mc fic #mayans mc fanfic

[boxoftheskyking]

Something Good, Part Twenty. The End.

I don’t know how cultivation works and I’m not about to learn now. There’s some blood here.

I can’t believe it’s done. Thank you everyone who has been reading, and everyone who’s left beautiful comments here, on AO3, in tags, yelled out a window. I’ve never finished a piece this long or in this way, and I would not have gotten further than 2 chapters without yous guys

Let’s get to it.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen

--

On the last morning of peace, Lan Wangji wakes up in Wei Wuxian’s arms. He smiles before opening his eyes, small and instinctive, and Wei Wuxian can’t not kiss him for it.

“Did you sleep?” Lan Wangji’s voice is rough, soft as raw cotton.

“No.”

“Hmm.” He presses his face back into Wei Wuxian’s chest.

“What are you thinking?”

“It’s foolish,” he mutters against his collarbone.

“Tell me.”

“I am afraid.”

Wei Wuxian holds him tighter. “That’s not foolish.”

“I keep waiting for someone to come and fix everything. Wen Ruohan shouldn’t be allowed to do what he is doing. I want someone bigger than him to come put him in his place. I feel young and stupid and weak and I want someone else to be in charge.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s foolish.”

Wei Wuxian kisses his hair. “If we get all the sects together. Maybe all the sects and the citizens as well, we’ll be bigger than the Wens.”

Lan Wangji looks up at him. “What if we’re not?”

“I don’t know.” Wei Wuxian runs his thumb lightly under Lan Wangji’s eye, over his cheekbone, over his ear. “I don’t know, Lan Zhan.”

The Wens come as the children are changing into their play clothes after lunch. Wei Wuxian is waiting at the door when the older disciples come running to their room, eyes wide and confused. Lan Xichen follows.

“The Wens are here.”

“Fuck!”

“They’re commanding the disciples to leave today, now; they’ve got at least thirty armed men. We can’t fight and win.”

“Fuck, fuck, what do we do?”

Three Wen soldiers come up behind the running teenagers. “Hurry up! You should be packed already. Didn’t the Sect Leader tell you you’re going for indoctrination?”

Lan Wangji joins them, jaw so tight it looks like his bones are about to crack.

“Brother. What do we—”

“I can get the little ones out,” Wei Wuxian whispers, brain spinning faster and faster like a wheel heading down a hill. “I don’t know about the older kids.”

“We’ll have no choice; we have to send them.” Lan Xichen watches the flurry of activity with such profound regret that Wei Wuxian grabs his arm and turns him away from the soldiers. 

“They’ll be all right. They’ll be hostages, right? Technically you still have an alliance, so there’s no reason to harm them.”

“We can’t just—” Lan Wangji cuts off as a little hand tugs on Wei Wuxian’s shirt.

“Wei-qianbei, what’s happening?” Lan Feifei asks, big round eyes tracking everything.

“Shhh, here, come back inside. Lan Zhan, I’ll get them to the back hill, okay? Just meet us there, with food if you can.”

Lan Wangji grabs his wrist, a question on his face, but he shakes him off and goes back inside. With luck, the teenagers will take a bit of time getting organized, but knowing the Lans it won’t be much.

“Disciples!” he says in a stage whisper, waving them all over. “Come here, we’re going to play a game.”

“A game?” Lan Ting asks, doubtfully.

“Yes, yes, gather around everyone. Now we have some visitors, and they want us all to go on a trip. So everyone will grab your bag and pack up everything you can. Clothes, blankets, whatever you have. Wen Ning, Lan Bin, Yao Hualing, help the little ones.”

“How is that a game?” Hualing asks.

“I’m getting to that part. What I want you all to do while you pack is to pretend to be the most badly behaved children in the world. I want you to whine and cry and yell and stamp your feet. Make a mess. When I ask you to do something, I want you to say that all you want is to see your bunnies. Can you do that?”

“I still don’t see how this is a game.”

“It’s a trick. We’re playing a trick on the visitors.”

“But how is it—”

“Then when I say the word, you’ll be your wonderful obedient selves again. It will be so funny! They’ll be so surprised.”

“That’s funny?” Lan Bin says, wrinkling his nose.

“Yes, yes!” Wei Wuxian tries not to seem desperate. “They’re very strange men, very strange sense of humor. Trust me.”

“Isn’t that lying?” Su Meiling asks. “Lying is forbidden.”

“Not lying, no, it’s a joke, just a joke. Hanguang Jun says it’s fine, okay? Trust me. When I give the signal, start crying, okay?”

The children look around at each other, still not convinced, but Wen Ning says, “Okay, Wei-qianbei,” and that seems to be good enough for them.

“Okay, go!”

It’s silent for a long moment. Then Ouyang Zizhen gives a tentative, “No, I don’t want to?”

“Good, good, louder,” Wei Wuxian whispers.

“No!” Su Ming yells, stamping her feet. “I want my bunnies!”

“Yes, the bunnies!”

“I won’t go! No! No! No!”

“Beautiful, excellent! More!” Wei Wuxian lets the racket build, encouraging them, before messing up his hair and running to the door.

“Ah, Zewu Jun!” he says, loud enough for the soldier to notice. “These children are so willful! I can’t get them to pack their things.”

One of the soldiers comes over. “What’s the problem?”

“No, no, no, NO!” the kids yell from inside, and someone throws something against the wall.

Yes, perfect! He thinks.

“Oh, sir, I’m so sorry. These children, they won’t travel without their bunnies.”

“That’s ridiculous,” the man sniffs. “Just get them packed.”

“I mean, I’m trying, sir. You’re welcome to try.”

The soldier grunts impatiently and pushes past him to the door. He opens it to utter chaos—someone has flipped their mattress, half of the kids are lying on the floor and wailing, and Lan Jingyi has no clothes on. I guess this is what’s hiding behind three thousand rules. Behind the soldier’s back, Wei Wuxian gives an encouraging smile and conducts them louder and louder. The soldier turns and he schools his expression back to overwhelmed as he runs over to wrangle Jingyi into his pants.

“What is wrong with these children?” the soldier demands.

“It’s their bunnies, sir, they never travel without them. They’ve got cages and everything.”

“Well, go get the damn bunnies then.”

“You know, I would,” he says, shoving a shirt over Jingyi’s screaming head. “But I can’t tell them apart. These children, they’re very particular. You know some bunnies are more energetic than others, some have favorite foods, or special—”

“Shut up, fool, just take the children and get them. I won’t listen to whining all the way to Qishan.”

“Right away, sir!”

Wei Wuxian shuts the door in his face and waves the children over. “Good job everyone! We almost have them fooled. Bags all packed? Excellent. Now we’re going to go to the back hill, so just keep crying and yelling until we get there. Okay? Good work.”

He leads them out, wailing and sobbing, and the older disciples freeze, staring at them.

“Oh no!” Wei Wuxian yells over the racket. “Such willful children! Shame on you all! We’ll be right back, sir!”

They pass the infirmary, where Wen Qing is waiting in the doorway.

“What the fuck, Wei Ying?” she hisses at him.

“Ah, Lady Wen!” he yells. “The most gifted rabbit catcher in Gusu! Please come, help us!”

She glares at him, but then sees the soldiers behind him and her face goes carefully blank. She follows.

When they reach the back hill, he gestures them all quiet and close.

“Excellent work, everyone! A-Ning, I need you to keep an eye on the path, let me know if someone is coming.”

“That was fun, Wei-qianbei!” Jingyi shouts. “I want to misbehave all the time!”

“Yes, you’re a prodigy, but it’s time to be quiet now. We’re going to go on an adventure, okay?”

“With the soldiers?” Lan Yixian asks.

“No, we’re going somewhere else. Okay? But we need to be quiet and fast.”

“Wei Ying,” Wen Qing murmurs. “You’d better have a plan. There’s no way we can outrun them through the forest on foot.”

“I need your knife.” He holds out his hand. She looks doubtful, but gives it to him. He cuts a long strip from the bottom of his shirt, leaving his stomach bare.

“Wei-qianbei, your belly!” Zizhen yells, pointing at the scar.

“Shh, Zizhen, it’s okay.” He spreads the cloth on the ground and makes a deep cut in his finger, starting to write.

“It’s a talisman?” Sizhui asks, leaning over his shoulder.

“Yes, A-Yuan, but it’s very complicated, so please be quiet.”

“Wei Ying,” Wen Qing says, one hand on his back. “I can’t power this kind of—”

“It’s not for you, it’s for me.”

“You’re not strong enough.”

“I have Chenqing. It’ll help.”

“It’s too risky.”

“Wen Qing, unless you have a better plan right now, let me work. I need you to go through first, make sure they land okay. Will you do that?”

She’s quiet for a long time while he writes. “Don’t make me watch you die,” she finally whispers.

“If I do, you won’t be here to see it.”

He finishes, rises, and holds the talisman in his hands, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He’s been shutting off the pull towards resentful energy for so long, it takes a moment to find it again, to open himself up to it. Chenqing isn’t a source of energy, but it’s a good conductor, so once he attunes himself to it the rush begins. It’s harder to feel the pit inside of him—he’s been too happy, too content, but if he pushes it’s there. He thinks about Wen Zhuliu, Wen Ruohan. He imagines Jiang Cheng’s face, Jiang Yanli’s, feels the pain of missing them. He sees the frightened eyes of the older disciples being marched away from home, Lan Xichen’s clenched fist, Lan Wangji’s rough voice saying I am afraid. He feels Wen Qing’s solid hand at his back. He opens his eyes and sees the children gathered around him, thinks Mine, mine, mine.

He flings the talisman out in front of him with a burst of flame, and it explodes into a swirling black portal a few feet off the ground.

“Go. Wen Qing. Go,” he grits out, already feeling his reserves of energy running thin.

Wen Qing takes a breath, nods once, then runs and leaps through the opening.

“Lady Wen!” Lan Bin cries. “Where did she go?”

“We’re all going,” Wei Wuxian says, fighting to get the words out and hold the opening. “Help the little ones.”

He has a vague idea of where the portal might lead, an open field in another part of Gusu, but he’s trusting Wen Qing to make a plan from there. He may have sent her off the side of a cliff or in the middle of a lake, but he has to believe it will work. It has to work.

Lan Bin looks doubtful. 

“Please,” is all Wei Wuxian can say. The portal shimmers for a moment, losing stability, and Wei Wuxian shuts his eyes to focus again. He feels his feet root into the soil and deeper, into the mountain, the stone, veins of power eons old, power that sees all of human life come and go like a single drop of rain against a roof tile. Resentment grown centuries before there was a word for it, before there was reason, a time before logic. 

It hurts. He’d forgotten how much it hurts. 

When he opens his eyes again, Lan Bin is passing Jingyi through the opening.

“Wei-qianbei, I’m scared,” Yao Hualing says.

“I know. Me too. Just.” He groans through another burst of energy. “Get them through.”

Something rips inside him, a sail ripped from the mast in the middle of a hurricane, and resentful energy floods him. He feels it in the spaces between his heart and lungs, the invisible gaps between each drop of blood, his pores yawning open like canyons. He can’t see, can’t hear over the whispering, roaring, wailing that’s tearing through him. Hold on, just hold on he repeats in his mind, and the darkness answers give, give, give. 

“Wei-qianbei!” Wen Ning cries, running from the road.

He forces himself to see, in flashes like a series of paintings. The last child’s foot disappearing through the portal. Wen Ning, appearing at his side. Lan Wangji coming down the path, followed by two soldiers. Sizhui, running for his father with arms outstretched. 

“A-Yuan!” Wei Wuxian screams, but it’s too late. A soldier grabs him around the middle and holds him, sword unsheathed and held to his wailing throat.

“No!” Lan Wangji shouts, but as he takes a step closer, the soldier tightens his hold.

“Baba!”

“What do I do, what do I do?” Wen Ning gasps, crying, hands clenching.

“Go. Through.” Wei Wuxian manages.

“I can’t, I have to—”

“A-Ning. Go. Now.”

With a last look over his shoulder, Wen Ning dives through the portal. Wei Wuxian plants his feet and shifts his focus, transferring the current of power into his left hand, holding the portal open. 

“Let him go,” he growls.

“Close the portal now, or I swear I will kill him.”

“Last chance.”

The soldier nicks Sizhui’s neck and his screaming cuts off with a tiny gasp that hits Wei Wuxian like a thunderclap. His vision goes red, dark at the edges, and his mind snaps.

MINE roars the darkness, and for once it’s in unison with the rest of him.

He lashes out his right hand and a cord of darkness, thin and strong as a whip, shoots out from his palm, curls around the soldier’s arm, and slices through. The man screams and tumbles backward, sword and arm together falling to the ground, blood spurting out and soaking Sizhui’s blue shirt to black. Sizhui shuts his eyes and freezes where he stands, little hands clenched at his sides.

The second soldier lunges forward, but Wei Wuxian flicks the whip back the other direction and catches him across the face, slicing open his cheek until half of his jaw and teeth are exposed.

“This is mine,” he says—it feels like nothing, just like breathing, but it echoes through the forest, shaking the trees and  frightening the rabbits to run around them like a river current, screaming like ghosts. “You dare touch what is mine.”

The soldier stumbles upright and holds his face, half raising his sword, and Wei Wuxian pulls the whip back into the air, hovering in front of him. The blood soaking into the ground rushes up through him, the soldier’s pain. Sizhui’s terror hurtles through him, making him stronger. He feels hot blood against his neck, in his hair, as clearly as if he were in the boy’s place.

“Give me a reason. I dare you. I beg you. Give me a reason.”

Before the soldier can move, the tip of Bichen bursts through the center of his chest. Lan Wangji shoves him off the blade to flop onto the ground. Wei Wuxian watches his life wink out like a lamp and drinks it in, spinning it into darkness. Lan Wangji doesn’t wait to sheathe the sword, just grabs Sizhui up with his free arm.

“Wei Ying,” he says urgently, which shakes Wei Wuxian back to the moment. The fear, the death, it all gives him a burst of energy, but he can feel the end of it coming near, like stitching a torn cloth back together with the last few inches of thread. Hold, just hold, please just be enough to hold. He pulls the whip back into himself, dissolving harmlessly into smoke, and throws his right hand back to the portal.

“Go.” It’s still not his voice. He tries to get his voice back. “Lan Zhan, please, hurry.”

“Wangji!” Lan Xichen runs down the path behind them, taking in everything, the portal, the bodies, the bloody sword. “Wei Ying, your face—”

“Go!” Sweat is rolling down his cheeks, or maybe tears, or blood, or maybe all three. Lan Wangji looks back at his brother for a long moment, then steps through the portal.

“Zewu Jun, hurry, jump through.”

“No, I— Wei Ying, I can’t, the soldiers. They’ll burn it all down, they’ll kill everyone.”

Wei Wuxian groans and the portal starts to shrink.

“We’ll find you. We’ll go—”

“Go to Yunmeng.” Lan Xichen grabs Wei Wuxian’s wrist and forces a current of clean energy through him. He’s nothing but a conduit, hollow, but it holds the portal in place, blue light weaving in between tendrils of black smoke. “The rebuild has begun. Jin soldiers are there for defense. Lanling is preparing for war, and they will protect you. Stay off the roads.”

“You’ll meet us there? The older children—”

“I’ll look after them. I’ll make some excuse for you—”

“Tell everyone I took them. Demon Wei Ying. Tell them I tricked you, all of you, I stole them away. I’m an unknown, I’m on no one’s side. Say I killed them. The worst things you can think of, tell them, they’ll believe you.”

Lan Xichen nods once, face going tight with pain. “We’ll clear your name, after—”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll hold the portal. You go.”

Wei Wuxian takes a halting step towards it, legs heavy as through iron chains were wrapped around them.

“Wait,” Lan Xichen says. “I”ll need— It needs to look like we fought. If I use my own sword—”

Wei Wuxian nods. “I’m sorry.” He lashes out—the whip is smaller this time, weaker, but it cuts up the side of Lan Xichen’s face and down across his shoulder, red blooming on his white robes. He winces, but his energy doesn’t falter. Shouts ring out through the forest, the sound of dozens of men crashing towards them through the trees.

“Take care of them,” Lan Xichen pleads.

“They’re mine.”

Wei Wuxian takes a step and throws himself at the portal, just as it begins to close. He hears Lan Xichen shout “Wei Wuxian!” behind him, then feels himself pulled in all directions, torn into pieces and slammed back together. His lungs are flattened, his stomach is missing, his eyes are backwards, his hands are multiplying like a flock of crows around him, choking—

And then, in an instant, it’s over. He hits the ground and lays flat on his back, gasping.

“Wei-qianbei!”

“Wei Ying!”

“Wei-qianbei!”

“Wei-qianbei!”

He’s surrounded by a flickering, moving mass that half blocks out the sunlight. He can’t see shapes, can’t see colors. Little hands on his face, his body, pulling at his clothes.

“I—” his mouth is dry, his tongue thick and heavy. “I—”

“Back, back, step back.” He knows this voice, these hands on his forehead. They feel his neck, his stomach.

“W— W— Wen—”

“Shh, shh, don’t talk.”

“ ‘vryone? Ev— ‘ryone?”

“Yes, yes, shh.”

“Where?”

“Other side of the mountain. Miles away.”

He relaxes into her hold. Time flickers, disappears, and reforms around him. He sits up, coughs, spits blood onto the ground.

The figures around him are still blurry, but he recognizes them. The children. Wen Qing and Wen Ning at his sides, propping him up. Lan Wangji is standing, staring at him, holding Sizhui. Wei Wuxian squints. Sizhui’s blue shirt is gone and he’s wrapped in red. Wen Qing’s outer robe, he realizes. His hair is soaked, drying stiff against his back, and there’s blood smeared across his cheek. His eyes are still closed and Wei Wuxian can see him shivering in Lan Wangji’s arms.

“A-Yuan,” he breathes, reaching out one hand.

“Wei-qianbei,” it’s little Lan Feifei. She reaches out and touches his cheek with one tentative finger. “Your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“They’re not . . . right.”

“Oh.” He touches his face as well, as if he could feel the difference. “What do they look like?”

“They’re red. And your face, it’s so white. There’s black, here.” She traces uneven lines up his neck, across his temples, his cheeks.

“Is it scary, Feifei?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, sweet one. You’re being very brave. You’re all so—” he’s suddenly finding it hard to talk, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “So brave.”

“We need to move,” Lan Wangji says, not unkindly. “It’s too open here.”

Wei Wuxian struggles upright, a dozen little hands reaching out to hold him. They look wary, staring at his face, but they aren’t scared to touch him. He loves them so much he’s about to dissolve in it. Mine rumbles through him, not violent this time, but low and satisfied like a purr.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, and reaches out for his hand.

Sizhui suddenly turns his face and opens his eyes, staring over at Wei Wuxian. His face is blank, and Wei Wuxian wishes he had a scarf, a mask, something to hide his appearance.

“A-Yuan,” he starts, “I’m so—”

But then Sizhui reaches out and grabs his shirt, pulling hard enough to make him stumble. He crashes into father and son and wraps his arms around both while Sizhui hides his face in his neck.

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian breathes, sweeping a hand over his hair and kissing the side of his face over and over. “I’m so sorry. You’re okay. It’s all okay now.”

It isn’t. It’s not okay now. But for a brief moment, as Lan Wangji holds all of them upright, they can breathe.

“We have a lot of traveling to do,” Wen Qing says. “It’s going to be difficult, and we’re going to have to be very sneaky. Can we do that?”

“Yes, Lady Wen,” a few children chorus.

“Where are we going?” asks Ouyang Zizhen.

“It’s a surprise,” Wei Wuxian answers at the same time Lan Wangji says, “It’s a secret.”

“But where—”

“How would you like to see your Wei-qianbei’s family?” Wei Wuxian says, meeting Wen Qing’s eyes. She smiles slightly and nods. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Your family?” Jingyi pipes up. “I want to go!”

“Good. Then we will. It’ll be a surprise for everyone.”

“What about my big brother?” Lan Hua asks.

“Yeah, and my cousin?” 

“My brother too!”

Wei Wuxian looks at Lan Wangji, unsure.

“They will join us later,” Lan Wangji announces, the voice that allows for no doubts and no arguments. “We have to go our own way for now, but we’ll see them again soon. For now, we need to stay together and take care of each other. We are a family, aren’t we?”

“Yes, Hanguang Jun.”

“Yes, Baba,” Sizhui whispers. Wei Wuxian kisses his cheek again.

“Let’s get moving,” Wen Qing says. “At least down to the tree line, then we can make a plan. We should be able to go a few miles before dark.”

“If we find a graveyard for the night, I can—” he stops himself, looking at the children. ”We can be safe in a graveyard.”

“Don’t overdo it,” Wen Qing warns.

“I never overdo it. Come on, everyone. Gather your things.”

He presses his forehead into Lan Wangji’s shoulder for a last moment, then lets him go and bends to pick up Jingyi. The weight is too much for him, and he ends up back on his knees in the dirt.

“I’ve got him.” Wen Ning comes up and hauls Jingyi up on his hip. “It’s okay, Wei-qianbei, let me help.”

Wen Qing gets him upright again and they move off through the grass towards the trees. 

They will walk for as long as the children can stand it tonight, and Wei Wuxian will call corpse puppets to watch over them through the night. He can see it all in front of him. It’s like reading a score and hearing the song come together in his mind. There will be rivers to cross, mountains to climb, caves and ditches to hide in night after night. They will be frightened and exhausted and starving. But they will arrive in Yunmeng, at Lotus Pier. He will row them all across the lake, and they will lean out of the boat to pluck lotus blossoms. Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli will meet them at the gate, and Wei Wuxian will fall into their arms. Jiang Cheng will protest, will yell, but he’ll catch him. And Yanli will take his ruined face in her cool hands and tell him that he’s home. 

He tightens his arm around Wen Qing’s shoulders and gets an answering squeeze around the waist. As if he can hear their thoughts, Lan Wangji turns back and catches his eye. Wei Wuxian looks at him, singing the song in his mind, showing him the way. Lan Wangji nods, and Wei Wuxian smiles.

The End.

#assorted writings #something good #the untamed #cql #mo dao zu shi #and that's it.

[gnzma]

Tagged by:@hatsudenki​ ty and sorry i completely forgot about it fnsdmgd Tagging: u ♥​

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE.

NAME: Guzmania Mitchell EYE COLOR: very light blue/gray, almost white HAIR STYLE/COLOUR: naturally black and curly, half-dyed in white, with the remaining half being partially shaved. He surprisingly takes a lot of care of his hair, but they’re a mess neverthless. HEIGHT: 192cm (6'4’’) standing straight CLOTHING STYLE: baggy clothes, mostly sweater jackets and pants and a simple t-shirt. He usually wears his Skull Boss clothes, making sure to always remember the necklace and the sunglasses with his team’s symbol. BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: he generally finds himself not exactly appealing, but even he can say that he likes his muscles. He’s pretty fit, despite everything.

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE.

FEARS: mostly hurting those he cares for. In a sense, becoming like his father. ...and aliens and jellyfishes, lately. Fuck em. GUILTY PLEASURE(S): some good ol’ Tapu Cocoa and Pokèmon Crossing to calm down his nerves every now and then. People who say it’s a game for kids don’t know the deep frustration of not finding Apollo, ever. BIGGEST PET PEEVE(S): people who think he left just because he didn’t get a position as Trial Captain, mostly. They’re free to think whatever the fuck they want, he doesn’t really have the time nor the patience to explain himself, but that’s always kinda frustrating.  AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: honestly? At this point he’d be content with reaching his 30s. That’s enough.

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS.

FIRST THOUGHT(S) WAKING UP: uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT MOST: new fun ways not to get bored and keep the Skull’s name always relevant, even if it isn’t with big big crimes to avoid upsetting the Champion. Intrusive thoughts are a close second. YOU THINK YOUR BEST QUALITY IS: bold of you he thinks he has any good quality

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: as in, romantic dates? Single, unless the group ends with all of them in the same bed TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: you can’t really love someone without respecting them, right? So. Yeah. BEAUTY OR BRAINS: ...beauty. Yeah. He knows he isn’t smart and doesn’t mind someone with a working brain, but someone must be aesthetically good for him to be into them DOGS OR CATS: dogs dogs dogs

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

LIE: a lie a day keeps your problems away. Wether or not someone finds out, that’s a problem for Future Guzma BELIEVE IN YOURSELF: he doesn’t, but also he knows he’s The Shit, so. Huh. It’s complicated. BELIEVE IN LOVE: not really WANT SOMEONE: ...maybe so. Maybe So.

LAYER SIX: EVER BEEN…

BEEN ON STAGE: he was a tree in a school play once. Does it count?  DONE DRUGS: he smokes weed pretty regularly with the excuse that it calms himself down, and tried coke once or twice. CHANGED WHO YOU WERE TO FIT IN: he tried to, after the whole Ultra Space situations and tried to force himself to be “good” for three months. It didn’t work.

LAYER SEVEN:  FAVOURITES.

FAVOURITE COLOR: black and gold  FAVOURITE ANIMAL POKEMON: Golisopod no doubt. Wimpod is a close second, Volcarona is a close third. Someday he’ll get one......  FAVOURITE MOVIE: he doesn’t watch many movies, but damn. Pokèmon Godzilla fucks  FAVOURITE GAME: Dead or Alive, Bloodborne and Pokèmon Crossing. Specifically New Leaf. 

LAYER EIGHT:  AGE.

DAY YOUR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: 1st of August  HOW OLD WILL YOU BE: technically 27, implying I’ll ever age up my characters lol  AGE YOU LOST YOUR VIRGINITY: exactly 18, during his birthday  DOES AGE MATTER: he’d rather not go with anyone 3 years younger than him, setting the limit at 23 for now. As for adults, well... yes, sure, he has his limits, but he’s much more into older people.

LAYER NINE:  IN A PERSON.

BEST PERSONALITY: He can’t stand people who are too overly nice, shy and indecisive. If he must hang out with someone, he likes people who are honest, not afraid to be rude and, most importantly, know when to have some fun.  Also with some hint of dom energy, that’s always important.  BEST EYE COLOR: he literally doesn’t give a shit  BEST HAIR COLOR: he LITERALLY doesn’t givea  shit. BEST THING TO DO WITH A PARTNER: having fun! Does that mean having some adventures? Causing troubles? Sex, even? Who cares, as son as  he feels like he has fun it’s good for him.

LAYER TEN:  FINISH THE SENTENCE.

I LOVE: "My numbskulls.” I FEEL: “Bored.” I HIDE: “A lot, but I ain’t gonna tell ya.” I MISS: “Not having constant nightmares.” I WISH: “For the world to shut the fuck up, every now and then.”

#❌|| ʙᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪs ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ 💀 about&headcanons ||❌

[its-sixxers]

OC Interview - Briar Mary

Doing this both to flesh her out, find a voice for her, and also let you peeps learn a lil’ somethin’ somethin’ about her.

name ➔ “Mary. Jack started calling me Briar Mary, but people only really call me that to tease me.” Self consciously, she touches the strange spurs growing through her shoulder like needles. “Maybe that’s why people called him Smiling Jack. I don’t know.”

are you single ➔ A belabored sigh and a long suffering look is cast to the interviewer. “Don’t be cruel.”

are you happy ➔ “Not really. But I can’t complain. Could be worse.”

are you angry ➔ “I look like a Brujah to you?” She raises the brow that isn’t pierced. “Nah. I keep my Beast collared.”

are your parents still married ➔ A frown, lost in thought. “No. They were divorced. I can remember that, but not their names or faces. Weird, huh?” A fragile smile, showcasing her array of mismatched and yellowing fangs. She doesn’t seem bothered.

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔ “Detroit. Moved to the west coast when I got married. That was... more recent. Things get fuzzier the closer they get to when I was sired. I’m told it happens if your sire’s got blunt fangs - it’s trauma, or something.”

hair color ➔ She barks with laughter. “Oh, these aren’t personalized! That makes me feel better. Means you aren’t mean.” A wag of a clawed finger, playfully scolding. “Like the rest of my clan, I’m pretty clean cut. Prefer it - Mitnick told me about this guy who had hair, but just little weird wiry strands sticking out of boils and- oh, I’m not making you nauseous am I?”

eye color ➔ Mary flutters non-existent eyelashes, placing a hand under her chin. “Why don’t you tell me?” White irises gleam faintly in the gloom, her left eye caged behind her piercings.

birthday ➔ “It was sometime in April, I think? It always rained. I remember that.” A light shrug. “I was sired October 22, in 2004. Pretty hard to forget that. I guess that’s the closest thing our kind have to a birthday.”

mood ➔ “Thirsty.” She bares her fangs playfully again, flicking her tongue against the front ones. “I’m just teasing.”

gender ➔ “Nosferatu.” she snickers. “I used to be a woman, don’t know if that still applies since I’m not really human anymore. Don’t know if it matters.”

summer or winter ➔ “Winter. Longer nights. Summer’s a nightmare. Can’t get anything done once June hits.”

morning or afternoon ➔ Another barked laugh. “You ghouls are funny. What if I said sunrise was my favorite, huh?” A wink. “Very early mornings, if you want to get all technical. 4 AM’s nice - pretty quiet, most Kindred are back in their beds or coffins or whatever but there’s still a little bit of time to enjoy the silence before you have to worry about sunlight. Although people tell me you stop doing that the older you get.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ “I said don’t be cruel.” This time, there’s a trace of sadness to her eyes instead of resigned annoyance.

do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “I know a couple of thin bloods who provide compelling evidence.” She tilts her head. “Um. Sure.”

who ended your last relationship ➔ Her brow furrows, as it does whenever she tries to remember what living was like. “Me. I did. Ran away. I think it was bad. But I wasn’t married when I got sired, so I think I made it to better pastures.”

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ It’s strange, how laughter and crying can sound so similar. Mary makes a noise split between the two. “I don’t know. Don’t really care. It was before, if it ever happened. I think my rejection now could only be a relief.”

are you afraid of commitments ➔ “In general? Or the romantic sense? Either way - if I play my cards right, I’m going to be living pretty long. Any commitment’s kind of a big one, in the uh, vow sense. But for a good cause? Nah. Not scared.”

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “I get within six feet of anyone and they wrinkle their nose. Fuck no.”

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “If I have any they’re probably secret.” she muses aloud. “You’ve got to be a sick fuck to want to get down with this.”

have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Jesus, that’s heavy.” Another frown. “It’s heartbreaking looking like this, I’ll tell you that much. You get used to it, but I’m not a big fan of mirrors.”

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ That look of tired resignation returns. “Love.”

lemonade or iced tea ➔ “I can’t really drink either. I can smell them, that’s kind of... the same... tea’s nice.”

cats or dogs ➔ “Cats don’t seem to mind me. I scare dogs. And some cats.”

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “Regular friends tend to have shifting loyalties, and that’ll get you killed, cupcake. I keep my circles of trust very, very small.”

wild night out or romantic night in ➔ Mary snickers now. “Wild nights out are all I do. Not the kind you’re probably asking about though.”

day or night ➔ “Day! I love burning to death. It’s on my bucket list.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ “Nosferatu don’t get caught. You have to see us first.” She winks.

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “I fell down stairs, but only because the stairs fell first. Fuck the Ocean House Hotel, by the way.”

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ There’s a little flinch in her face, but her smile hastily returns. “Blood, of course. You’re a ghoul, you probably know a bit of the feeling. You get low, and it’s one of the worst feelings in the world. Never piss off whoever’s running the local blood bank. Just a tip.”

wanted to disappear ➔ “Wanted to? More like can.” She wiggles her clawed fingers for emphasis. “I’d demonstrate, but I’d need a few sips to make it worth it. I don’t think you want me chewing on your neck.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ Another baring of her mess of fangs. “I’m going to have to go with eyes, boss.”

shorter or taller ➔ “I’m pretty small. I’d like to be taller. Oh, you mean in-” Understanding dawns on her features. “I mean, if I was still... into that whole thing... tall is nice.”

intelligence or attraction ➔ “I’d be a fucking hypocrite if I said anything other than intelligence. Lucky for me, it’s true. You start saying you’d prefer a pretty face over a smart mind and you’re going to have one of my people coming to make an example out of you.”

hook-up or relationship ➔ “Uh.” she scratches her temple. “I remember sex, and it wasn’t that great. Maybe I was missing out. Either way, no chance of that now. No chance of relationships either, but a girl can dream, hey?”

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ “From what I remember of living - fuck no. It’s why I got married quick and ended up in LA. I’d call the Anarchs my family now, and we get along alright. The newbies like to talk shit until they realize who I am, then they’re real polite.”

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “Hah! Messed up unlife is more correct. It’s been interesting at least.”

have you ever ran away from home ➔ “Oh yeah. It’s um. A habit of mine, I guess.”

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “Before? Probably. After? Almost, after that blood hunt mess. Christ. That was terrible.”

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “A few of them are pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t say hate. Then they’re not friends. They’re frenemies.”

do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “Well, yeah.”

who is your best friend ➔ A thoughtful hum. “Mitnick’s been the nicest. Knox is a sweetheart. You mean who I trust most though, probably.” She swallows, eyes darting around nervously. “Nines owes me enough and has enough of a sense of honor that I’m pretty sure he’ll never fuck me over. Let’s go with him.”

who knows everything about you ➔ “Can I say my entire clan? Because that’s probably the truth. If there’s something to know, they know it - and I’m not very mysterious. Keep that in mind if you decide to ask them these questions, cupcake. Maybe edit a few. I’m one of the nice ones.” A wink.

#oc interview #oc: briar mary #cw: body horror #for the art :V

[brittle-bone-gabe]

The Forgotten: Chapter Ten - The Old Times

Chapter One , Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Epilogue

Summary: Barry Berkman couldn’t remember much of his childhood; he knew he used to live in Derry, Maine, but that was about it, besides being taken by his “Uncle Fuches” at age 16 to move to Cleveland, Ohio. Eddie Kaspbrak moved from Derry, Maine to LA, becoming a police officer, surprisingly enough. Normally things were quiet for the most part, besides the occasional drug busts, but it’s when someone named Barry Block enters his line of sight as a possible suspect for the recent string of murders he has to push the feeling of remembrance to investigate.     Pairing: Adult Reddie  (Richie x Eddie) Or, technically, Barry x Eddie Read on AO3: Here

Back at his and Fuches’ hotel room, Richie was sitting on his fold out bed, drinking heavily with the goal in mind is to get drunk so he could forget about this whole fucking day. It was goddamn awful… First, he accidentally spills his entire life and basically all the crimes he’s ever done, and second, he wanted to change his name. Yeah, that second point shouldn’t have been something Richie would regret, but it only seemed like there was one person in his corner and that was Mr. Cousineau. Richie honestly couldn’t tell if Eddie was supporting him or just trying to pile up enough evidence to get him arrested, but at this point whatever happened to Richie happened. He wasn't going to fight anymore, he was too tired and depressed to do so. Besides, it wasn’t like Fuches was going to help him, not like he could help anyways…

Richie had his head bowed, his head pounding as he was holding a vodka bottle in his hands that he didn’t even notice Fuches had walked up to him, looking extremely disappointed. Well, what else was new? The real question should be who wasn’t disappointed in him?

“What the fuck are you doing, Barry?” Fuches demanded, tapping his foot on the carpeted floor.

“‘y name’s Richie now,” Richie slurred, raising his head so he could look at him, chugging the bottle again.

“No the fuck it isn’t!” Fuches snapped, snatching the patched up glasses with tape on the bridge from Richie’s face.

“Give those back!” Richie whined, making no attempt to reach for the glasses, knowing he was getting too tipsy, so if he did he would end up falling off the bed.

“Not until you drop this Richie business!”

Richie was silent for a moment, rocking back and forth slightly as he stared at the bottle in his hand trying to think of what he wanted to say to him. There was so much he wanted to say in general, but he had nobody to talk to about anything. Sometimes he wished he could go to therapy, but Richie was sure that any therapist had to report anything he told them to the police or something. He was trapped in his own mind with no way to escape.

“Fuches… why did you make me change my name?” Richie asked, looking up at the older man with a sad look in his eyes.

At first, it seemed as though Fuches was going to spill another lie, but it took an entirely different turn of direction. He let out a sigh, taking a seat next to Richie, holding the glasses out to him.

“Because,” he started, “you were going to have a different life after I took you from Maine, right?” Richie blinked, not understanding what he was getting at, but still nodded in response. “A different life means a different name, right?”

“I guess…”

“And now that you’re in this life your name’s Barry now, right?” Richie didn’t say anything, he just stared straight ahead past Fuches like he wasn’t paying attention. Great, he was manipulating him again… not like that wasn’t new, Fuches has been manipulating him since they left Maine. “ Right, Barry?” Fuches said through his teeth, as if he was getting irritated with him.

“‘m still going by Richie…”

Fuches shook his head, rolling his eyes. “You gotta see Hank tomorrow, Barry. He’s getting impatient that Bell isn’t dead yet.”

“...Who?”

Fuches groaned, standing up from the bed, confusing Richie about what he did wrong this time. Well, he was just fucking everything up today, wasn’t he?

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” was all Fuches said as he grabbed his jacket from the hook next to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“ Out.”

Richie opened his mouth for him to elaborate, but Fuches was already on his way out, slamming the door behind him. He let out a deep sigh, suddenly feeling more depressed than he’s ever had before. Nothing was going right, his whole identity was being pulled into two different directions; Fuches and Sally were basically telling him that he was Barry and nobody else, while Mr. Cousineau and Eddie were encouraging him to be whoever Richie Tozier was. He smacked himself as hard as he could in the face for no reason other than he was drunk and frustrated. He slammed the bottle of vodka on the end table before grabbing a pillow to muffle his frustrated screams as that was the only way he could think of to release some of his anger.

He clutched the pillow tight, holding it against himself as he began to cry silently. Every wrong thing that Richie’s ever done was flooding back to him all at once and it drove him mad. The night he had to kill Chris so he wouldn’t go to the police, the person who he had considered to be his best friend; the night he practically lured Janice over to the tree where he had his gun hidden in case he needed to use it and proceeded to kill her and hid her car and body so he wouldn’t get arrested, ultimately destroying Mr. Cousineau’s life. Hell, even all the fights that Richie and Sally had came back to him and made him realize that he couldn’t even hold a relationship or connect with anyone at all, and there was nowhere he felt he could run to.

As a last resort in his drunken state of mind, Richie wiped the tears from his eyes before reaching over the side of his bed. From underneath the thin, flimsy mattress he pulled out an extra pistol he kept there for emergencies. Richie tucked his legs to his chest, rocking back and forth with the gun still clutched tightly in his hand. He felt lost, scared, alone, and extremely hopeless.

Richie didn’t want to do this anymore.

It was a struggle since he was so drunk, but Richie managed to stand up from the fold out of bed, swaying slightly as he did. He grabbed the bottle that was still on the nightstand, taking a swing of it when he noticed the piece of paper that had been sitting underneath it. Richie tilted his head to the side, replacing the bottle with the paper that had Eddie’s personal number written neatly over it in pen. Would it be worth it to even call Eddie? Would he even answer? Letting out a sigh, Richie took out his phone from his back pocket, drunkenly dialing the number as he stumbled his way over to the bathroom, as he suddenly felt anxious and needed to puke.

Richie dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, puking up his guts from the anxiety and all the alcohol he consumed. If he didn’t feel awful before he did now, his stomach and throat burning. He felt like he was going to suffocate from lack of oxygen, not being able to even suck in a little bit of air from the constant puking he was doing.

Once he was able to regain a bit of control, he wiped the tears from his eyes, hearing someone on the phone that was sitting next to him on the floor. That’s when he remembered that he had called Eddie for… for some reason that he couldn’t remember.

“Richie? Richie, are you okay?” Richie heard Eddie ask him as he pressed the phone to his ear, rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth.

“‘m so ready to kill myself,” Richie slurred into the phone, leaning against the tub that was next to him, still on the floor. Tears were still burning in his eyes, it had been a long time since he actually let out a real, breakdown cry, and Richie felt like it was something he needed, minus the breakdown part.

Eddie was honestly taken aback, he wasn’t expecting Richie to say something like that. That just… wasn’t something his Richie would ever say… Even though he had told Eddie so much of what happened from the time he left Derry to now, Eddie felt like he would not be able to truly understand what he’s been through to make him feel like this.

“What’s wrong, Richie?”

Richie couldn’t help it as he started to breathe heavily, feeling like he was going into a panic attack. He looked at the gun in his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“What’d you call me?”

“Richie. That’s what you wanted me to call you, right? I can call you Bar-”

“No! No, no, no… Don’t call me that… I’m Richie.”

“Yeah… you’re Richie.”

Eddie was trying to be as careful as possible with what words he chose, maybe it was all his time at work with the training he had for situations like this, or maybe since he knew Richie and knew he wouldn’t say anything like that without a reason that raised some flags. It was extremely obvious that he was distressed, clearly drunk from the way he was slurring his words. Hearing him throw up as soon as Eddie picked up had made him cringed.

“Hey, Richie? Do you have… anything that could hurt you?” As much as Eddie hated asking that question to anyone, it felt awkward and pushy, but if Richie did have something that could possibly be a harm to him then Eddie needed to know.

Being as drunk as he was, Richie couldn’t even phantom the idea of lying to Eddie. He was that type of drunk who spilled everything even when he wasn’t prompted, that being the reason he didn’t get too hammered while out in public, especially when out drinking with those from his acting class. Sure, they may take whatever he may have spilled out as him practicing monologue or a script or something, but there was no way Richie was risking it. “I have a gun,” he admitted, pressing the side of the weapon to his forehead, feeling the cool steel against his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, rocking back and forth slightly enough for his back to bang into the tub wall.

He was conflicted, as much as Richie wanted to end his own life, he felt like talking to Eddie was helping him greatly. Like having that comfort that somebody was willing to be there for him was enough to make him rethink all of this…

“ Okay… is it-” Before Eddie could even get his question out, Richie cocked the gun he was holding, hearing it made Eddie panic, his heart now slamming against his chest. “ Where are you at, Rich? I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

Richie sniffled, rubbing his eyes. “In my hotel room…” he admitted, that’s when it hit him that he’s never actually told anyone where he lived, not even Hank knew where he and Fuches stayed. It never made sense to Richie why they didn’t just get an apartment like a normal person, it would save money if they did that, but if there was ever a reason they both needed to bail quickly the lease couldn’t backtrack to them in any way.

“Your hotel room? Okay, cool, cool… How about this?” Eddie was prepared to do anything to get to Richie, to make sure that he wasn’t going to do anything to hurt himself. He had no idea what was going on with him, but Eddie had an idea and he still didn’t want anything to happen to Richie. “I can come pick you up and we can drive around, get some fresh air. How does that sound?”

Even though Eddie couldn’t see him through the phone, Richie still nodded as if he could. To be honest, driving around and getting out of the cramped hotel room did actually sound nice. Yeah, Richie was free to basically go wherever he wanted to, but it wasn’t like he really had anywhere to go. The only time he ever left was to go to his acting classes, to get food at the small, cheap restaurant that was more or less right across the street, but that was about it. What a sad, sad life he lived… What would’ve happened if he never left Derry? If he stayed with that group of friends that Eddie reminded him of when showing Richie that photo… Maybe he would’ve gone to college, get a degree in… something. Fuck, Richie couldn’t even remember what his interests were before being forced to leave. What did he want to go to college for? He did remember that it was that time in high school where everyone in their grade kept getting pressured by almost every teacher about what they wanted to do with their lives.

What do you want to do with your life, Richie?

I dunno, kill people for money. No big deal. Don’t need to go to college for that, right?

“Please…” Richie finally squeaked, hearing Eddie let out the breath that he had been holding. Apparently Richie had been lost in his thoughts longer than he thought he had, which had made Eddie panic silently.

“No problem. Which hotel and which room? I’ll come get you.”

Richie more or less slurred in words together, but it was enough for Eddie to understand which hotel he was in at least. It wasn’t too far from his apartment, about ten minutes, maybe twenty minutes depending on the traffic.

“Jus… just let me know when you’re here-”

“How about you just stay on the phone with me?” Eddie told him as he was rummaging around his apartment for his keys that he of course couldn’t find at the last goddamn minute.

Richie didn’t say anything, he wasn’t used to somebody caring so much about him, especially not enough to come to him to make sure he was going to be okay.

“Okay…” He finally mumbles into the phone.

                                                                 -----

Eddie had raced down the flight of stairs of his apartment building, his keys held tightly in his hand, the brass keys were digging into his skin as he held the cell phone up to his ear with his shoulder as he opened the door to the parking lot. He could understand that Richie wasn’t in the mood to talk, but Eddie needed him to keep talking, so he could make sure he was doing okay. Or… at least not going through with anything. This entire situation is delicate and Eddie needed to make sure he was going to make the right choices here.

“Richie?” Eddie asked into the phone, hoping that he was still there and still doing okay. Or, as okay as Richie could be. “What are you doing right now, man?”

He could hear Richie drop a bottle on a tile floor, the sound was loud, causing Eddie to flinch. As Eddie was waiting for an answer, he put his car into drive, speeding off out of the parking lot and down the road.

“ ‘m not doin’ anything,” Richie more or less whined into the phone, his back still pressed up against the tub wall. He felt as though if he stood up to go back into his bed he would tumble over from how drunk he had gotten. He said he wouldn’t do anything, yet he was still holding the gun in his head, his brain still contemplating whether or not he should just pull the trigger and get this over with. “ I swear ‘m fine.”

“I trust you… I just need you to keep talking to me, okay?”

“ I don’t have anything to say…” Richie admitted, pulling his knees up to his chest, wrapping an arm around his knees, pulling them closer. He chuckled, it wasn’t like someone telling a joke chuckle, it was more like he was having a dark thought. “Would think you’d hear if I shot myself.”  

“Don’t think like that, you’re going to be okay, alright?”

It was silent for a good minute or two, the longest moment of silence Eddie’s been through. He had no idea what to say, it was as though all the training that Eddie has done for these exact moments flew out the window. Almost like he wasn’t even thinking like a cop right now but as a concerned friend.

As Eddie opened his mouth to speak, a faint sob came from the other end of the line. The sound broke his heart, as kids Eddie must’ve only seen Richie cry once, to this day Eddie wasn’t sure what it was about, but he knew that it was something to do with family matters. It sucked, Richie had always seemed like such a happy kid, but from piecing what Eddie could together it seemed like his home life was awful… Sure, his wasn’t the best either, but goddamn…

“Richie?”

“I’m tired.”

“I’m almost there, okay? You gotta hang on. … Richie?”

Richie took a swing from his alcohol, sniffling before answering. “ I’m here…”

Eddie turned into the hotel that Richie had been staying at for an undetermined amount of time. Thankfully there was an easy parking spot right up front by the door, Eddie would’ve been pissed off if he had to go around over and over to find a goddamn spot. Road rage was certainly one of his downfalls.

“I’m coming up, alright? I’m almost there,” he told him as he walked up to the elevator, repeatedly pressing the floor up button, hoping that somehow that would make the elevator doors open faster. As soon as he entered, Richie was trying to tell him something, but all that was coming out was static and everything was cutting due to the lost connection just from stepping inside the elevator.

Cursing under his breath, Eddie removed the phone from his ear, pressing the fourth floor button, trying to go back to his phone app to call Richie back. No matter how many times he tried calling him back it either didn’t go through, or it rang a couple of times before going straight to voicemail, which made Eddie believe that Richie was declining his calls. Fuck.

The moment the elevator stopped, Eddie slipped out the doors as they were still sliding open. He paused for a moment, getting a feel for how the room numbers were laid out. Since Richie’s room was twelve, it should theoretically be in the center of the hallway. The entire time he was looking at each door to check for door numbers he was trying to call Richie again, just to be sure he was doing okay, even though it’s been less than a minute since the call dropped.

Once he found Richie’s room, he couldn’t help but immediately try the doorknob to see if it would be, hopefully, unlocked…. But it wasn’t… Fuck, fuck, fuck… Eddie started pounding on the door, hoping that he was able to get Richie’s attention. Hoping that he didn’t do anything in that short time span. It only took a few seconds to put the gun to his head and pull the trigger. Eddie pressed his ear against the door, trying to determine if there was any movement coming from inside, but there wasn’t. Goddammit.

“Richie!” Eddie called, pressing his hands against the door. Normally he’d be concerned with people staying in the rooms around them, he would hate to disturb them, but this was important. “Richie, I swear to god, you better open this door or I’ll kick it down!”

Pressing his ear against the door again, this time, thankfully, Eddie could hear small footsteps coming towards the door. Oh, thank god.

Two locks from the otherside became undone, Richie opened the door, just standing there, staring at Eddie as he was swaying slightly side to side due to the alcohol. In fact, Eddie was sure if it weren’t for Richie holding onto the doorknob he would’ve fallen over. Richie’s eyes were red and puffy, tear stains down his cheeks and the gun still in his hand. Eddie was extremely concerned, as he was, hearing him over the phone and seeing him in person were two heavily different things.

“Put the gun down, Rich,” Eddie said in a low voice, so nobody could hear him, yet it was in a cautious tone.

Richie didn’t say anything, in fact, he turned around, leaving the door opened as he shuffled his feet through the carpet flooring on his way back to his fold out bed. Eddie let himself in, closing and locking the door behind him out of habit. Richie tossed his gun down on the bed before taking a seat, burying his face in his hands, rocking back and forth. He began sobbing again, again, seeing this in person was way worse than hearing it over the phone…

“Richie… hey…” Eddie started, moving over to him.

It was as though Richie had forgotten that Eddie was even there, that he had been on the phone with him as he was sitting on the bathroom floor, because once he heard his voice the tears instantly stopped, as though nobody was allowed to see him cry. He moved his hands away from his face, wiping the tears away. When he noticed Eddie was starting to get too close Richie instantly stood up, causing Eddie to jump, moving back as not to scare him or making him feel uncomfortable.

Richie didn’t go very far, he moved over to the mirror that was hanging up horizontal to a dresser. All he did was stand there in silence, staring at his own reflection. Everything Richie’s ever done was flashing through his eyes; killing Chris, killing Janice, the things he did while in the Marine, his time in the hospital… Why the fuck couldn’t he have a normal life like everyone else?

Eddie wasn’t sure what to do now… He felt like he should go comfort Richie, but he was worried about what was going through his mind right now, he didn’t want to risk startling him.

“Richie-”

Before Eddie could even get this sentence thought out, Richie’s face scrunched up in frustration before sending his fist against the mirror as hard as he could. Glass shards flew everywhere, startling Eddie, making it hard to wrap his head around what just happened. Blood droplets dropped to the floor, running down Richie’s arm with shards of glass stuck in his skin.  Richie was numb, he couldn’t even register what he had done, not only was he emotionally numb, but his hand and arm became numb from the shock. The entire time he didn’t stop looking at himself now through the cracked mirror. His breathing became heavy, face twisting up like he wanted to cry, once he felt hands on his shoulders he tried his best to compose himself to show that nothing was wrong when that obviously was a lie.

“Breathe,” Eddie told him as he moved Richie away from the broken mirror to sit back down on the fold out mattress, “you gotta breathe.” It was getting to the point where it sounded as though Richie was about to start hyperventilating.

Richie let out a shaky breath, burying his face in his hands as he was trying to gather his thoughts. He was drunk, the world around him was spinning and he wasn’t completely sure what was going on. When he looked up at Eddie again there was blood smeared across his face, causing the shorter man to cringe.

“Why’d you come here, Eds?” Richie asked in a still shaky voice, almost gasping for air as he was almost forgetting to breathe.

Was he serious?

“I thought you were gonna fuckin’ kill yourself!” Eddie said a little too loudly, gesturing towards Richie’s bloodied up hand, “now I gotta take you to the hospital.”

“No hospitals!” Richie said quickly, panicking as he stood up quickly, almost stumbling over. Eddie had to grab him so he wouldn’t topple over.

“Okay, okay… no hospitals…” Eddie said carefully, not sure why he was so against it, but whatever… “Do you have a first aid kit?” Richie shook his head, holding his injured hand close to his chest. “Okay, um… I have one at home. Lets, uh…” Eddie paused, looking around to find something he could use to cover up Richie’s hand until they got him patched up. He grabbed a towel that was sitting on the dresser. “Let's get this wrapped up.”

Richie plopped back down on the fold out mattress, too anxious to say anything, instead he held out his hand to Eddie, who knelt down in front of him. Richie refused to look at him as he felt the towel get tightly wrapped around his hand, causing him to flinch. Some of the glass get pushed deeper in his skin. He whimpered in pain, snatching his hand away after the towel was secured in place.

“Let’s go, Richie.” He wrapped an arm around Richie’s shoulders, helping him stand up so he wouldn’t stumble over when trying to get up. Richie tried to grab the gun that was still on the bed, bringing it for God knows why… Eddie moved him along so he couldn’t grab it, there was no reason he needed to bring it along. “You don’t need that.”

“But-”

“C’mon.”

Eddie guided Richie out of the hotel room, which was a big help on Richie’s end since he would be stumbling without him. Richie was trying so hard to focus on something so he wouldn’t end up throwing up all over the carpeted floor. Surely the hotel wouldn’t appreciate that. Especially with all the possible complaints that were against him and Fuches for yelling at each other all the time, ruining the carpet would most likely get them kicked out for sure.

Getting Richie to Eddie’s car was surprisingly easy, Eddie honestly was expecting for him to start fighting with him and to refuse to leave, but the whole trip to the car he was silent. Eddie opened the passenger side door for Richie, he slid in while holding his injured hand close to his chest. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, so not only was Richie starting to feel extreme pain in his hand, he was starting to feel exhausted both mentally and physically. Richie had no idea what he was doing, he had his head leaning against the passenger window, staring out of it as Eddie got into the driver's seat.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Richie noticed that they had begun to drive, pulling out of the parking lot. The movement and bumpiness of the road was starting to make Richie feel sick, he felt like he wanted to puke again, but he would have to wait until they stop. To try to help the car sickness, Richie closed his eyes tight, but it wasn’t doing much to help.

“Eddie?” Richie asked suddenly, startling Eddie who already had a tight grip on the steering wheel.

“Hm?”

Richie opened his eyes again, they were now wet as he kept on looking outside. “Am I a bad person?”

“I think…” Eddie paused, he needed to choose his words carefully while also wanting to say how he really felt, “you were just a kid who got caught up in some bad things.”

Richie lifted his head up from the window, glancing over at Eddie, who had his eyes still locked onto the road.

“I mean…” Eddie continued again, feeling Richie’s eyes on him, “you want to walk away, right?” From the corner of his eye he could see Richie nod in agreement. “Well, that’s good. I think you changing your name is a great start. Put all of that behind you.”

“I’m really trying to, Eds. It’s hard, I keep getting pulled back into it.” Richie paused, was he saying too much again? Usually he kept to himself, but around Eddie… it was almost like he forgot how to filter himself. “You’re not gonna arrest me for this, are you?”

Eddie let out a sigh, which made Richie silently panic. He truly felt as though these were going to be his last few moments of freedom. Eddie knew that he should arrest him, he’s known that since they first talked in the car across the street of the precinct, but there was a mental block preventing him to do so.

“As long as you don’t give me a reason to, alright?”

The rest of the short drive was silent, they didn’t have anything to say to each other. It was the same back and forth. Richie felt overly paranoid, now he didn’t feel like speaking to Eddie about anything. He shook his head, leaning forward in his seat with his face buried in his hands again. Richie was feeling so sick, the anxiety and paranoia was certainly not helping mixed in with the alcohol.

Everything around Richie was a blur, from what he could remember he was sitting in the car with Eddie with no sense of time, now he was sitting on a couch in an unfamiliar place. The lights were bright, making Richie’s already pounding head worse. Fuck. Everything was moving both too fast yet slow at the same time. Yeah, Richie would never be drinking this much ever again.

“Eddie?” Richie called out, looking at his wrapped up hand, he couldn’t tell if blood was soaking through or if it was old blood. Either way, it made him concerned about how injured his hand actually was.

“I’m right here,” Eddie said as he came out of the bathroom from across the room, holding a first aid kit in his hand as he made his way back over to Richie. “It’s alright.”

“What if we leave?” Richie blurted out as Eddie set the first aid kit on the coffee table, he could see Eddie’s confused face as he opened up the box and started to go through it.

“Leave?” He wondered, taking out a couple of things that Richie couldn’t make out.

“Yeah, you and me. We leave LA and never come back.”

Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle as he took a seat next to Richie on the couch. “Why would I need to leave?” He asked, taking Richie’s hand and removing the towel. Thankfully the majority of the bleeding had stopped, it didn’t look like he would need stitches, so that was a good thing.

Richie wasn’t sure what to say, hell, he had no idea why he said that. It wasn’t like they knew each other that well, or… at least anymore. There was no way Eddie would drop his entire life to leave with Richie, that would’ve been stupid. Fuck, why was Richie so stupid?

“Um…” Richie said, watching Eddie take a small alcohol pad, wiping down the small pair of tweezers in his hand. “I dunno, man.”

“You’d want me to come with you?” Eddie asked, focusing on Richie’s hand as he began to pull out the small shards of glass that remained.

Richie flinched every time Eddie dug around in his skin. “Kinda… is that weird?”

Eddie shook his head. “You have your class here, Richie. You should stay.”

“But… a guy… wants me to kill someone because he thinks he’s a rat. I don’t wanna do it.”

“Then don’t do it.” Eddie wiped down Richie’s entire hand with a couple of alcohol pads to clean the wounds and clean up the blood. “You have a choice, y’know?”

“I’m kinda on thin ice with my uncle right now.”

“Oh well.”

Richie couldn’t help but chuckle as Eddie put gauze pads on his hand. “I missed you Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie quickly looked up at him, remembering that stupid fucking nickname. It was clear that some of Richie’s memories were coming back to him and that was great. Maybe that would give him the extra push to leave this life behind for good.

“Shut the fuck up.” Richie couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “I missed you too.” He finished wrapping up Richie’s hand with a self adhesive bandage down to his wrist. “You’re staying here tonight,” Eddie added as he stood up to put away the first aid kit.

That caught Richie off guard, he wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting for Eddie to patch him up then drive him back home.

“Why?”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“I won’t, I-”

“You’re staying.”

#my fic #reddie #barry block #barry #barry hbo #barry berkman #barry fanfiction #barry fanfic #barry fic #richie tozier #richie #richie trashmouth #Adult Reddie #adult richie tozier #adult eddie kaspbrak #adult eddie #adult richie #Eddie Kaspbrak #it #it chapter 2 #it chapter two #it fanfiction #it fanfic #it au #Barry AU #Crossover #fanfic #fanfiction #spoilers

[hollyxqx]

just business  // shownu  //  03

↪ PAIRING: Reader / Shownu ↪ SUMMARY: Y/N’s mysterious new neighbour has definitely caught your eye. He’s quiet but the two of strike up an unlikely friendship. He doesn’t speak about his work to you and you don’t ask, but when his job puts your life in danger questions have to be answered once and for all.

↪ WARNINGS: hurt/angst/violence/guns/more shameless sex

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN | EIGHT | NINE

Work turned out worse than you expected it to be. Not only was Kihyun actively ignoring you, the bar was also very busy. It was a Saturday night which was peak trading hours for you, meaning even if you wanted to talk to him you weren't able to. It did however make your shift fly by and before long you were sending staff home, ready to shut the bar down for the night.

You didn't expect Kihyun to give you a lift, seeing as he was pissed at you so you took your phone out ready to phone a taxi. "Bye, Y/N!" One of your bar staff, Holly waved at you as she walked by on her way out.

"Wait, Holly - " You shouted and she stopped. "Is Kihyun here?"

"In the back." She replied. You didn't say anything, hoping this would be your chance to corner him. "Is that everything?" Holly added.

You gave her an appreciative smile. "Yeah, thanks. And thanks for tonight. Have a good night!" She waved bye and left out the back door that staff used. Standing up, you made your way to the back room where the staff kept their belongings intending to find Kihyun. As Holly had said he was in there shrugging into his jacket. "Kihyun." You said softly and he turned at the sound of your voice. His blank, almost cold, expression made your heart sink.

"Do you need a lift home?" He asked, his voice sullen. You hadn't expected him to say that.

"Uh, no. I'm going to phone a taxi. I just wanted to talk to you." You said sheepishly.

"It's a Saturday night you'll wait ages for one." He muttered, zipping up his jacket. "I'll take you."

"You don't have to do that, Ki." You said quietly.

"I'm mad at you but I'm not heartless. I still want you to get home safely."

"Can we talk first?" You asked hopefully.

"I really don't feel like it, Y/N." He sighed. You didn't want to push him so you stayed silent. The two of you gathered the rest of things and walked outside to his car. He unlocked the vehicle and you climbed into the passenger seat, feeling a little awkward. You didn't want the drive back to be in stony silence. You hated that you'd hurt his feelings.

You drove for a few minutes in silence, the engine humming in the background. It was deafening to you. Unable to stand it any longer you spoke. "When do you think you'll stop hating me?" You asked. He let out a heavy sigh.

"I don't hate you, noona." He looked in the mirror as he merged lanes. "That's the problem." He muttered under his breath but you caught it.

"I still want to make it up to you." You said, deliberately not addressing his comment. "I meant that, you know."

He just gave you a somewhat forced, but slightly sad smile. The drive was silent until you reached your home. He parked on the street and you watched curiously as he cut the engine and the car fell silent. His remained in his seat looking straight ahead, one hand gripping the steering wheel. "Y/N, are you dating that man?" He asked suddenly.

"No," You answered. Where you dating Shownu? You were too lost in the thrill of it all to even think about that. Technically you had had one date but that hardly qualifies. He hadn't even asked for a second one. "I think it was just that one time." You admitted, suddenly feeling foolish.

"You deserve better than that." He mumbled.

"You're so sweet Ki." You said softly, touching his cheek affectionately.

"I mean it." He said. You found his sincerity endearing. This was the sweet kid you knew. "I was jealous this morning." He confessed. "Do you know why?" He asked and you shook your head. "I wanted to be the one you spent the night with." He let out a deep breath as if he was releasing the weight of his secret

"What are you trying to say?" You asked, feeling your heartbeat start to speed up.

"I think you know what I'm trying to say." He turned to look at you for the first time since you began this conversation, his face illuminate by the orange of the streetlight. His expression was serious. "I like you, Y/N. More than just friends, more than just co-workers."

"Kihyun." You sighed. Your voice felt far away.

"I'm sorry I got angry and spoke to you like that this morning," He admitted, his face softening. "But seeing you like that, no underwear, clearly fucked out...it did something to me." You blushed at his words, heat creeping up your face. He had noticed. He kept talking, somehow the more he confessed the easier it was to reveal his true feelings to you. "Noona, it should have been me. I want to spend all day with you, talking, laughing...I want to be the one to fuck you, make you cum. Make you feel good. Me."

"Kihyun!" Yours went wide at the dirty words that spilled from his mouth.

"I told you I'm not a kid." He smirked a little at your reaction. It was exactly what he wanted.

"I honestly don't know what to say," You breathed, anxiously fiddling with the sleeve of your jacket. Kihyun stayed silent watching you. "I'm your boss, I'm older than you...I think crossing that line would be a bad idea."

"What if I quit?" He asked. He'd joked about this so many times but you knew there was no humour in it this time.

"Don't be ridiculous." You scoffed. "Don't you dare be that stupid!"

"I just want to show you how serious I am." He shrugged. "Will you let me take you out then? Just once. Give me a chance before you reject me."

"I really don't think that's a good idea." You said quietly. It didn't feel good to turn him down. He was still your friend after all.

"That's it? No - just like that?" He asked. You noticed his knuckles turning white from his death grip on the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry." You couldn't look at him anymore, it was breaking your heart. He just nodded, jaw clenched. The air felt heavy now. "Thank you for taking me home." He didn't say anything, didn't even look at you, just waited patiently for you to get out his car. With a heavy heart you watched him drive off and hoped that this wasn't the end of your friendship.

***

Days turned into weeks and things with Kihyun were just not the same. You still saw him at work, that is on the days he hadn't swapped shifts to avoid you, but he kept any and all talking he needed to do to you at the bare minimum. He barely even looked at you anymore. As sad as it made you at least things with Shownu seemed to be progressing. He'd actually taken you out on real dates. It was a nice surprise to you at how well you got on with him.

"Are you working tomorrow?" Shownu asked as he held the door open for you. You were leaving a restaurant after another one of your proper dates.

"Nope, I'm off." You replied. You'd gone to a place close to the apartment building you shared, opting to walk there. He grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. Holding hands was something he started doing recently and it made your heart swell every time he did it.

"Stay at mine tonight?" He asked. Your stomach flipped with excitement. It was the first time he'd invited you over to his.

"Okay." You said in a small voice. It didn't take long for the two of you to reach the apartment. Shownu led the way inside and pressed the call button for the lift. It arrive and he pushed you inside. "Can we stop by my place first, I need to get clothes for tomorrow."

"Okay." The doors shut and instantly his mouth was on yours. You kissed him back hungrily as he pushed you up against the cool metal wall of the elevator. His tongue dipping into your mouth, greedily devouring yours.

"I couldn't wait any longer." He whispered inbetween kisses. He fisted a hand into your hair and pulled, yanking your head back, exposing your neck to him. His head dipped down to the exposed flesh and he began to place wet kisses, stopping to suck and bite making you moan out loud. He guided your hand down to his clothed erection and you gasped feeling he was rock hard already. He wasn't joking about wanting you already. You rubbed him teasingly and he groaned into your skin.

The elevator stopped at your floor and he reluctantly let go of you. Taking your hand again he led you down the hallway. You almost crashed into him when he stopped suddenly. "Shownu, what's wrong?" You asked, but your question was answered when your eyes fell on your door. Your front door was ajar and you suddenly felt ice cold with fear. You were always so careful when it came to locking it.

"Wait here." He commanded, letting go of your hand. Your eyes widened when you saw him reach inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a gun. You didn't know he carried one. "Don't go anywhere." He said, giving you one last look before heading into your apartment. He flicked on the light and disappeared inside.

Your heart was in your throat, pulse rapid with adrenalin. It was quiet and your mind was racing. You stared at the open door almost expecting to hear gunshots any second. After what felt like years, Shownu appeared in the door way, his eyes were cold, expression one of steel. "It's empty." He informed you. "Are you sure you locked it?"

"100%." You said quietly. He sighed at the frightened look on your face.

"Grab some clothes, enough for a few days." He said, pulling you into a hug. "You're staying with me until we get the lock changed ok?"

You just nodded and followed him into your apartment. You did as he said and grabbed enough clothing to keep you going for a few days, shoving the items into a duffle bag. Shownu waited in the hallway for you, almost as if he was keeping watch. Once you were done the two of you headed to his place.

He let you in to his apartment, setting his keys down on a small table by the door. "I feel like this is my fault." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Now that you're involved with me, you're a target too." He muttered.

"What do you mean?" You inquired, tilting your head to one side. As long as you'd know him he'd made similar sort of references but never elaborated.

"You know that there are people who want to hurt me right? Well these people might want to hurt you as a way of hurting me."

"Why do they want to hurt you?" You asked in a small voice.

"Because I have something that they want." He uttered darkly.

"What's that?"

He just shook his head. "The less you know the safer you are."

"You're still such a mystery to me, Shownu." You said, reaching up to cup his cheek. He closed his eyes at your touch and place a hand on yours.

"Y/N," He said quietly, opening his eyes once more. "I want you to know that even though I don't tell you everything, I've never and will never lie to you." You believed him. "I promise I'll keep you safe."

He pulled you into his arms and kissed you softly. "Let me keep you safe." He murmured against your lips, his kisses becoming rough and desperate now. "I promise." He repeated. You fell into him, fingers gripping at his chest. His hands dropped to your waist and pulled you close to him, making you whimper against his lips. Him revealing a more vulnerable side to you only made you want him more.

The kiss was quick to grow heated when suddenly Shownu picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carried you to his bedroom, mouth never leaving yours. He began undressing you, peeling off your clothing, throwing it to the floor. He looked at you with such desire in his eyes it made you shiver. Soon you were completely naked beneath him. He licked his lips at the sight. "You're so pretty, Y/N." He whispered and began kneading your breasts with his palms, occasionally catching a nipple between his fingers. You melted at his touch.

"Please take this off," You whined, tugging at his shirt. "I wanna feel you." He did as you asked, yanking the white cotton over his head. "And these." You said, wiggling his belt buckle.

He stood up, doing as you asked, getting completely naked as well. You reached for his dick and gave it a few strokes, causing him to groan, eyes fluttering closed. When you replaced your hands with your mouth, deep throating him straight away he swore out loud. You bobbed up and down his length, eyes starting to water. He gathered your hair in his hands, encouraging you. "Fuck, how did I get so lucky, huh?" He breathed looking down at you.

Without warning he pulled you off him. You looked up at him in surprise. "I wanna be inside you. If you kept that up I was gonna cum." He smiled. "Get on all fours for me, pretty girl." He instructed. Your stomach twisted with desire as you complied. Shownu kneeled on the bed behind you, running a finger down your slit. "Sucking my dick made you this wet?" He mused and you cried out when he pushed two fingers into you.

"Fuck Shownu - !" You gasped as he started to move them in and out of you. Your head fell and you gripped the sheets tightly.

"Fuck yourself against my fingers," He said. "Show me how much you want it." You moaned when he stopped moving and started to grind against his hand. You were losing yourself now, free hand flying down to your clit, lost in pleasure. "Fucking god." Shownu groaned watching you go. He couldn't handle it anymore and ripped his hand from you, quickly manoeuvring so his dick was pressing into your core. One swift move and he was buried inside you, hands gripping your ass cheeks tightly, spreading them so he can get deeper. You couldn't control the moans spilling from your lips. "Keep touching yourself." He growled as he began to thrust in and out of you.

"You feel amazing," You whined, rubbing faster. You weren't lying, he felt perfect, the way his body fit yours. You were tightening around him, orgasm rapidly approaching. "I'm gonna cum!" You squeezed your eyes shut, letting the waves over pleasure wash over you. He fucked you through it, slapping your ass, the sting intensifying your high.

He laid you down flat on the bed so that his chest was touching your back, hands underneath you holding him close. "Spread your legs for me." He whispered, hot breath in your ear and you did, giving him easier access. He began to fuck you hard, this new position giving him even more control. "Ugh, Y/N." He grunted. The sound of his skin slapping on yours filled the room as he drove into you relentlessly. You had fucked enough to know he was close.

All of a sudden he pulled out of you and flipped you over. "I wanna see you when I cum." He said huskily, voice thick with lust. He pushed himself into you again, staring deep into your eyes.

"Cum for me, Shownu." You whispered. "Show me how much you like fucking me."

He groaned at your words, immediately picking up the pace. His eyes never left yours as he peaked, spilling into you with a moan of your name. He collapsed on the bed next to you, breathing heavily. "You're too good to me, pretty girl." He said, giving you one of his rare smiles. He rolled onto his side and pulled you close. "I meant what I said, I'll keep you safe if you let me." he spoke softly.

You melted into his chest feeling safe and secure in his arms, like this was where you belonged, danger or not.

***

Weeks passed without another incident or break in and you were starting to feel a sense of normalcy with Shownu. Nothing was official, he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend or anything but things were good. You enjoyed each others company. You were back in your apartment, the break in a distant memory. Shownu had ensured your door was fitted with a more secure lock and between that and the amount of time he spent there, you felt safe.

Kihyun had been particularly frosty with you after a tense incident when Shownu arrived to pick you up from work one night. It was clear to him that you and Shownu were together, whatever that meant, and he didn't like it.

You were alone tonight. As you'd come to expect, Kihyun swapped his shift leaving you to lock up alone. You were doing a once over on the bar, making sure everything was off. You were just about to lock the main door when it opened, a stranger boldly striding into the room. "Sorry sir, we're closed." You apologised.

The stranger didn't move. Cold, hard eyes bored into you. He wasn't very tall but he was very muscular. You noticed his broad shoulders and bulging arms almost instantly. "I'm only going to say this once," He spoke slowly but there was an underlying threatening tone to his voice. "Do what I say and I won't hurt you."

You froze, a wave of panic immobilising you. "What do you want?" Your voice escaped, barely above a whisper.

The stranger smirked. "You, princess." Your eyes flitted over to the open door the man had entered from. If you were quick could you make it in time? You'd have to run past him, and he could easily grab you. As if reading your mind he said "Don't even think about it, princess." chuckling darkly. He carefully reached into his jacket and you knew what was about to happen. The silver of a gun flashed before your eyes and he cocked it, pointing it at you, still smirking. "Now are you going to do this the hard way or my way?" He asked.

"I don't know what you want from me." You said, trying to stop your voice from shaking.

"I told you, I want you." He gestured with his gun at you and you flinched. "So be a good girl and come with me, I really don't want to hurt that pretty face of yours."

"Go with you?" You repeated. "Go where?"

"My boss wants to have a, uh, chat with you." He said, smirk returning to his face. You felt cold with fear, his words implying that this person wanted more than just a conversation.

"Me?! Why me?" You asked, voice trembling a little.

"He wants to know all about that boyfriend of yours." He chuckled darkly, setting off an instant panic in you.

"I don't have a boyfriend." That was sort of true.

"Didn't take you for a liar, princess."

"I'm not!" You half yelled.

"Baby, I've seen you with him. Many times." The stranger cooed. "Now come with me, before I get impatient and really take it out on you."

Acting on pure instinct you ducked and ran as fast as you could, reaching the back hallway before he even had a chance to fire. You heard the bang of the gun exploding followed by glass shattering. "What did I say princess!" He called out, footsteps approaching you. You dived into your office and locked the door, crouching in the corner. "It's going to be you that suffers not me!" He yelled.

You saw the door handle rattle, bile rising in your throat. Suddenly there were other voices joining the strangers. Of course he had back up, they must have expected you not to go willingly. You clasped your hand over your mouth and screamed when they fired three shots through the door. They didn't care whether you were dead or alive.

The door was rattling on it's hinges now and you suspected they were kicking it down. You were trapped. There was no window in this room. There was nowhere to go. You hadn't been thinking when you ran into here, blind panic clouding your judgement. It flew open with a crash, one of the hinges flying off. The muscular stranger strode into the room, eyes landing on you instantly. Behind him was two new faces you didn't recognize. He sighed and stepped over to your cowering frame. "Just remember, you made me do this princess."

In a flash he raised his arm and swung, using the but of his gun with blunt force. It whacked into the side of your skull with a loud crack, knocking you out like a light.

***

Kihyun's POV

The next morning Kihyun arrived for work at around 11am. Y/N was scheduled to work that day but not until later, so he felt confident walking into the bar that day knowing she wouldn't be there. Entering through the staff door he headed straight for his locker. As he walked down the hallway he froze. The door to the manager's office was hanging off it's hinges, half destroyed. He got closer, noticing the bullet holes for the first time. "What the fuck." He muttered to himself, running a hand over the broken door.

Instantly the hairs on the back of his neck stoop up. Something wasn't right. He peered in the office half expecting to find someone in there, but it was empty. He moved further into the silent bar, noting the smashed glasses and another bullet hole. Something definitely wasn't right. He did the only thing he could think of, slipping his phone out of his back pocket and dialling Y/N's number.

The phone didn't ring, going directly to voicemail. He tried two more times but yielded the same result. His stomach dropped with dread. This wasn't like the last time when he couldn't get ahold of Y/N. This time he knew something bad had happened. So he did the only logical thing he could think of and phone the police, silently wishing Y/N was okay, and not lying somewhere with a round of bullets in her.

masterlist

#monsta x fanfic #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x smut #monsta x angst #shownu smut #shownu fanfic #shownu fanfiction #kihyun fanfic #kihyun ff #kihyun smut #monsta x au

[precuredaily]

The Ninth Day of PCDMas

On the ninth day of Christmas, Precure Daily gave to me...

Nine dance endings!

Fresh Precure ed 2 - “H@ppy Together” by Hayashi Momoko

Go! Princess Precure ed 1 - “Dreaming☆Princess Precure” by Kitagawa Rie

Kirakira Precure a la Mode ed 2 -  "Shubidubi☆Sweets Time" by Miyamoto Kanako

HappinessCharge Precure ed 1 - “Precure・Memory” by Yoshida Hitomi

Precure All Stars DX2 ed - “17jewels ~Precure Medley 2010~” by Ikeda Aya and Kudo Mayu with YOUNG･FRESH

Suite Precure ed 2 - “♯KibouRainbow♯” by Ikeda Aya

Maho Girls Precure ed 2 - “Magic a la・Domo” by Takahashi Rie, Horie Yui, and Hayami Saori

Precure All Stars New Stage ed - “Yay! Yay! Yay! (movie version)” by Yoshida Hitomi

Yes! Precure 5 ed 2 - “Ganbalance de Dance ~Dreaming Miracles~” by Miyamoto Kanako

as well as...

Eight maidens shielding Seven ships a-sailing Six themes a-slaying Five golden cures Four reformed villains Three best friends Two power duos And a whole bunch of Healin’ Good news!

So wow, this took me all evening to do. I knew it was going to be time consuming, but W O W. I had meant to do the writeup for Y5 19 today. OH WELL. I’d like to say, first off, these aren’t necessarily my top 9 absolute favorite dances in the series. I’d have to do a lot of soul-searching for that. Rather, it’s a few of my favorites (H@ppy Together, Magic a la Domo, and Precure Memory are high up there) and a balance of songs/dances from all over the series that I feel showcase it well. I put EVERY SINGLE DANCE ENDING (including movies) in a playlist and watched through them to make this, that’s over an hour of real time, and then I slowly removed videos until I was satisfied with my nine. Tomorrow I could do this again and probably come up with some other answers but, hey, that’s the fun. Never say I don’t love what I do. I’ll go over a few of my choices chronologically:

Ganbalance de Dance. Obviously Splash Star did it first, and before that there were a few dancing scenes in the Max Heart ending, but I liked Yes 5′s version the most of the three renditions of Ganbalance de Dance. There’s a bit where they’re shown only in silhouette and that’s really cool. Since it’s 2D animation, it’s harder to animate them moving around as you have to draw their new perspective rather than rotating a 3D model, and so the dance is a little stiff, but it’s fun and the song is catchy. These were the formative years of dance endings.

Fresh was the first show to use CG dance endings and they’ve stuck around ever since then. The first ending, “You Make Me Happy”, is a pretty dull song and a dull dance, but “H@ppy Together” is nice. Since FPC is their first time working with CG, the models aren’t great and the rigging and animation are stiff, but H@ppy Together takes advantage of this by making them figurines in a music box, which is good enough to mask their expressionless faces most of the time. Also it’s just a cute theme.

Honorable mention to Heartcatch here for using multiple models for each girl and translating Umakoshi’s designs to 3D. Really catchy songs, I just couldn’t fit them on this list. Instead, you get DX2, which comes up with new dances for each team to dance along with their opening theme, as well as the All Stars theme all mashed together in a medley. Although they technically were shown dancing a little bit in GoGo Dream Live, this is the first time all cures are together in a CG dance, and that’s a technical achievement. They jump all over the place, standing on floating platforms and bouncing off the walls and stage. The models are still kind of stiff but just seeing then-all 17 cures interacting with each other like that is incredible.

Suite managed to improve the animation a little bit, I really like the floating setting for this ending. It’s a fun, poppy, bop of an ending and it features Cure Muse, finally.

Smile features a VAST improvement on the animation, especially in their faces, but I wound up using the New Stage variant of the song because I liked seeing how they made all the older cures dance to the song. There were some great effects with the castle stage.

HappinessCharge. They use assets for each of their three forms, and the texturing on the hilltop at the end is really good, but what makes this ending especially notable to me is the lighting. When they’re dancing in the sunset and they’re cast in shades of orange, it’s really incredible. I HAD to include it. I also wanted to include the movie ending where it’s just the same thing as the second ED but instead of ending they jump out of a fucking blimp and land in a stadium as Lovely transforms into her movie super form and they sing another verse.... but sunset was more visually impressive and commendable.

Princess. Aside from being a good jam, the backgrounds are very ornate. The models used for the girls are very detailed, I think they tweaked the rendering engine again or something. I really love the bit when they transform into Mode Elegant.

Maho Girls is here because, wow that song is a BOP. The lyrics are laughable but the animation is very bouncy and cute and Mofurun even dances as well. I enjoy that it was sung by the actresses. Kirakira is here for a similar reason. I dig the choreography, and that opening bit where Whip is shaking her hips to the beat is cute. Each girl gets a moment in the spotlight and there’s some cool visual effects. It’s not the best song and sometimes I think I like the first ending better but it’s distinct enough to warrant being on this list.

Shout out to Star Twinkle ending 2 for being super duper weird though.

[crowkingwrites]

Battle of the Bands (Ch.13)

Pairing: Robb Stark x Reader, Jon Snow x Reader, Viserys Targaryen x Reader, Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary: You just moved into the city for the first tie all by yourself. After you get your dream summer job working for a small magazine, you find yourself in the middle of the city’s rock festival: Battle of the Bands. Local rock bands throughout the city compete to win a record deal that could change their lives. Your job? Get close to them and write about them online.A single girl in the city surrounded by rocker boys during the summertime. What could possibly go wrong?

Words: 2077 // AO3 Link

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five // Chapter Six // Chapter Seven // Chapter Eight // Chapter Nine // Chapter Ten // Chapter Eleven // Chapter Twelve

Ramsay Bolton and Viserys Targaryen grew up in similar circumstances. Both of them had been the undesired sons in the family. While Domeric Bolton graduated with top honors and went on to become an advocate for incarcerated fathers, Ramsay lit up his first blunt in his dad’s basement. While Rhaegar became wildly popular and successful in the arts world, Viserys struggled to write his first song because it wouldn’t be good enough.

Both had wealth and power, and they used it to their own advantages. Viserys used every girlfriend he had growing up for his own selfish purposes. What did it matter? He was Viserys Fucking Targaryen. Girls threw themselves to be with him for status. He even remembered a time where Cersei was extremely nice to him to get close to his older brother.

Ramsay did it the obvious way. He bullied and punched anyone who had words for him. His bloody bastard group had known the inside of the principal’s office all too well. Once, Ramsay saw the paint color swatches and told the principal his opinion.

“If you paint these walls green, it’s going to remind everyone of the lunchroom. It’s gross.”

Both had a certain fear of their fathers. Both knew how bad they were and liked themselves that way. Why would they change if everything was working out for them so far? That is, until Ramsay walked into his father’s private office to see Viz and his entire band behind them. One girl was about to ruin everything for one of them.

“Ramsay! He knows who this bitch is! Tell him!” Viz yelled out loud. Roose turned to his son. Ramsay wore a perfectly fitting suit. It covered all his tattoos. Ramsay was clean-shaven. For once, he looked like the perfect child.

“Mr. Targaryen claims you know who the author of the slandering article is,” Roose’s eyes flickered back to Viz before returning to Ramsay’s. “Do you know her?”

Ramsay shrugged. “I can’t say I do. I have done an interview with her once when my band was still in the battle, but she didn’t write anything terrible about my band. After that, I can’t say we have spoken again.”

“You’re fucking lying,” Viz seethed.

“I do apologize, Mr. Targaryen. This must be a difficult time for you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You fucked her! You literally had sex with her!”

Ramsay took a step back and faced his father. “Father, I don’t mean to sound unprofessional, but I think Viserys may be on drugs, You know these rockstars. They don’t lead a sober lifestyle. It says so in the article. We may not want to be associated with people like them.” Roose nodded and took a step towards the band manager.

Ramsay smirked.

Robb stood still inside Jon’s apartment.

You rushed past him and he felt his stomach turning. He could smell your perfume on you. The floral scent rushed into his nose before he could protest. He didn’t mind smelling you. He minded smelling you here in his little brother’s apartment. A slow anger took over his mind while Jon walked up to him, explaining things at a rapid pace.

“It’s not what it looks like. I promise you. I can explain everything, Robb. I really can. I need you to listen and—

“And what, Jon?” Robb’s eyes flickered to his brother. “Are you going to give me a shitty excuse? ‘She had something on her face’, right?”

“Alright! I’m sorry. We-I—I didn’t mean—

“You didn’t mean to? I saw it. You weren’t kissing her on accident,” Robb snapped.

“I wasn’t going to say that! I was just going to say—

“Oh, now you’re going to tell me you’ve had feelings for her all this time?”

“Shut the fuck up, Robb.” Jon rolled his eyes. “Let me explain it before you piss me off.”

“Piss you off? You’re concerned about me pissing you off?!”

“You knew I liked her. You knew all this time, Robb. You introduced her to me knowing how pretty she was. Knowing I wanted a girl like that for a long time.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Really?” Jon scoffed. “Do you just live and breathe in the same selfish world you built for yourself? Do you think every girl you talk to is going to date you? You’re so fucking blind.”

Robb stepped into Jon’s space more. “You knew I liked her too. I told you that. Remember? After I saw her with Ramsay? At the Blackfyre concert? You’re not the only on she’s been with. It’s a problem.”

“And you thought a great solution to the problem was to fire her from her dream job.”

“I gave her that job and this is how she treats me,” Robb spat. Jon pushed his brother away from him.

“Get the fuck out of here with that,” Jon said. “You can’t stand not being the center of attention in a pretty girl’s eyes. She doesn’t belong to you. She never has.”

“Oh, and she belongs to you?” Robb smirked. “Are you her boyfriend?”

“Shut up, Robb.” “No. Really. Are you? Because if you were, wouldn’t you think it’s so fucking weird that she spends a lot of time with other guys?”

“I think it’s fucking weird that you’re obsessed with her,” Jon muttered. Robb pushed Jon harder. When Jon pushed back, Robb grabbed his brother by his arms. He hesitated throwing him into his couch. His fingers itched to do it, but his eyes locked with his brother. Those same big, brown eyes looked up at him.

He threw down Jon’s arms, and opened his mouth. “You know, you’re not really my brother. You’re just flesh proof of why Dad couldn’t keep it in his pants. You’re not human. You’re a mistake.”

Two brothers envied one another.

Viserys Targaryen envied Ramsay in a lot of ways. He hated how Ramsay had a better hold on you than he did. Viserys was used to female attention. At first, he laughed it off, thinking it was a sick joke you kept doing. No, you were more attracted to him than Ramsay. You just felt bad for the guy.

Until the concert. Viserys watched you and Ramsay getting cozier without him around. He watched you kiss Ramsay like you were drowning in him. He never had that fucking chance with you. Why? It angered him. Even in bed, you chose that fucking psycho every time and he let it happen.

Viserys had everything handed and given to him without question. No one ever told him no. Until you came along. You treated him like he was a real being, not some king to bow down to. You made him feel normal. Like he was his own person without his name or title or wealth or anything. But, you chose Ramsay over him every time. And Viz let that happen.

Viz watched Ramsay smirk and leave his father’s office. Viserys knew of Ramsay growing up. He watched that boy enter and leave a principal’s office several times without facing any real consequences. Just like now. He was lying about being with you.

You. The Girl who finally conquered The Dragon.

No, he wasn’t going to let him get away with this bullshit. Viz pushed past a bodyguard and ran in pursuit of Ramsay. Momentum built up inside of him in every step he took towards that fucking bastard. Ramsay quickly turned down a hallway and when Viz reached that same point, Ramsay grabbed him and pushed him against the wall.

“Why did you follow me?” Ramsay simply asked.

“Why did you lie?” Viserys spat in his face. “What the fuck are you doing? She screwed you over too.”

“She had nothing to do with my band getting kicked out. Someone else did. So, she didn’t screw me. Well, she technically did. She did get in between us that one night. She was all over me while you just sat like a puppy and watched. Right? I don’t know what’s sadder. Watching the world’s greatest rockstar get rejected or watching your worst enemy take the only girl you cared about.”

Viserys’ fist connected to Ramsay’s nose within seconds. The punch sent Ramsay backwards and onto the floor, laughing. Viserys lunged again, but this time, his manager caught him. Viserys struggled against his manager as Ramsay mocked him.

“Oh! Look at you! Poor baby needs to be disciplined,” Ramsay laughed.

“I’m coming for you, Bolton,” Viserys warned.

“Oh I know.”

“You know?” Viserys cocked his eyebrow and smiled. “Your arrogant ass is going to kill you one day.”

“How did you know to come here? You don’t really need to interact with lawyers. Your manager does. So how did now to come to my dad? Unless you’ve been here before?” Ramsay watched Viserys’ eyes go wide. Ramsay stood up slowly and closed the space between them. A tension settled between the two young men.

“I knew it wasn’t Renly like you told me. You came here and had my father shut down my band because you know I’m better than you.”

Viserys’ face stayed in shock as his band manager pulled him out of there. Ramsay watched happily as the entire Blackfyre team was escorted out of the law firm. He ducked into his father’s office once more. If he could take down Viserys, he could take down the Starks too.

Ramsay Bolton wasn’t kidding when he told you he liked competition.

Competition was the only thing Jon knew with Robb. Jon always competed against him in everything. Grades. Father’s love. Girls. Sports. Music. Everything. When Jon met you, he felt a spark that he never knew before. For once, you didn’t compare him to Robb. You spent more of your free time with him than with Robb.

Maybe Jon was being delusional. Maybe it was the weed. When Jon’s fist connected with Robb’s cheek, the only thing he could think of was you. Robb thought everyone loved him. It was time that Jon proved him wrong.

Robb held his face for a minute and then left without another word. Jon let out a heavy breath after his door closed. He ran his fingers through his hair and watched Robb walk away from his apartment building. Jon collapsed on his couch and took out his phone.

Jon to You: [I just punched my brother for you. So wherever that puts us…

Jon pressed the back button until all of his message was gone. He sat up and tried again.

Jon to You: [This is all getting out of hand. Maybe we should…

“No, no, no. You stupid idiot.” Jon said to himself. “This is bad. This is really bad. Fuck.” Jon turned over his phone in his hands repeatedly. Jon’s phone played a tone and he saw a message from you.

You: [That article about Viserys. He saw it and he’s gonna try to take me and The Scene to court. What do I do?] You: [Ramsay told me. How do we tell your brother? This is bad. I’m panicking] You: [Never mind. He’s here at the office. He knows. I think he’s going to fire me.]

Jon groaned out loud. He looked over at a Gryffindor poster he had on his wall. The same lion looked back at him.

“Why couldn’t I be a coward? Wouldn’t life be easier if I was a coward? Damn you, Potter.” Jon got up, grabbed his keys, and left his apartment. There was only one person who could possibly understand what he was going through.

Jon arrived at a studio apartment in an artistic corner of the city. He knocked on the door lightly before he opened it. Two pizza boxes were stacked on the stove. Along the wall stood a mismatched shelving system of records. On the far wall, Jon could spot a skinny little nobody on his couch, strumming away at a guitar.

“Theon,” Jon sighed in relief.

“Oh, now you come back?” Theon shook his head. “I was beginning to wonder if you were coming back for Alys or not.” Theon gestured to the guitar in his lap.

“I’m—I’m in some deep shit, Theon,” Jon collapsed into a beanbag.

“Yeah? You need our friend, Jack?” Theon passed the whisky bottle to him. Jon shook his head and looked up to the ceiling.

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s about a girl isn’t it?” Theon asked. When Jon nodded, Theon reacted. “Oh shit.”

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[cryptocism]

wanted to say your Too Many Thad's au is super fun and all your clone designs rule! Five's whole deal is really interesting to me (he's the oldest AND youngest? rough) and his (physically) older design kinda jumped out at me. i like how he's more heavily built than his teen counterparts but also isn't like. uncomfortably ripped?? and the scruff peeking out is inspired. do you think Bart himself would look similar when he's older, or is Five different from him in that way?

yeah yeah yeah!! they've all got weird aging situations going on but Five definitely has it the weirdest.

how I've got the timeline rn means that CRAYDL actually created baby Eight and Nine in the cloning chamber before Three uses it to create Five and Six. unbeknownst to Three, CRAYDL's tampering with the machinery leads to complications when creating Five and Six, which leads to Five having to be sprung from stasis early and the exponential age issue. by the time he's chronologically 1 he's physically 3 or 4, by the time he's chronologically 2 he's physically 12, and Three manages to fix his aging before he hits 3, at which point he would've been physically 42ish. (the rate is about 250%) So he ends up in the mid-30s range.

which has gotta be! weird! for everyone involved. Three spends just over 2 years raising a rapidly growing kid, which is, first of all; rife with comedy potential. there's just a whole child in there and Three is constantly having to run around taking care of him, and CRAYDL is no help at all because they've got two 10 year olds they're taking care of hidden in the next room. Five is teething within six weeks, walking within six months, talking in full sentences by the end of the year. Three spends all his time reading parenting guides and recalibrating the VR learning system so that Five can get a semblance of understanding of his whole situation.

Five is in the extremely unique position of becoming physically much older than the person who raised him, which has gotta be? extremely weird. Five remembers vividly only coming up to Three's elbow because it was literally 2 years ago. now he's a full head and shoulders taller than Three and has to deal with a body and mind that are much older than he's really been prepared for.

and i do really want to avoid the 'mind of a child' trope because it's uhhh. bad! his capability for learning was accelerated just as much as his body was, and ya boy does have superspeed so getting a lot of booklearnin done in a very short amount of time is no problem. it's more that he just very literally hasn't been around as long as the other Thads have. As soon as Six got sprung from stasis he pretty much immediately started fucking around with time travel, meaning his chronological age grew an incalculable amount, despite him technically being created after Five.

so the other Thads besides Three really underestimate Five due to his lack of life experience. plus he's sort of quiet and doesn't like arguments or confrontation, and on top of that I cannot overemphasize how shitty of a conversation partner every single one of these little assholes would be. Five also genuinely cares about Three, and is the only one loyal to him without any coercion or manipulation on Three's part. They've all got fucked relationship dynamics but with Five and Three especially it's like a weird "thats my dad but also he's younger than me and i want to protect him like a son" recursive loop.

and on the rare occasions where Three and Five interact with anyone other than the clones, like when Three took them to get Four's body, Five is faced with the extremely odd situation of being perceived as the de-facto authority figure between the two of them. A stranger referring to Three as "your son" was probably the moment where Five was fully faced with the disconnect between his whole situation and the real word.

anyway to answer your question yeah i think Bart would probably look similar to Five when he gets older... possibly taller, but that's just bc I think it'd be funny if Bart starts out as like a 5'1" 13/14 year old and by the time he's 20 he's grown like a foot and a half. although I haven't really hashed out Five's design without the mask so he may get the blonde hair and/or blue eyes of the Thawne lineage who knows!!

#asks #anonymous #the thing about Five is that he hasn't had a lot of time to discover anything about himself #so he has a bit of a less defined personality than the other thads and mostly defers to Three #but its kinda fun because he's just having constant revelations about literally himself and what he thinks and feels #just a neverending speedrun of self discovery #too many thads au

[my-name-stitch]

about me

@anonthenullifier tagged me in a conglomerate of the “about you” things but i’m late (as always but like, you know why i’m late this time) bc i just remembered she did.  so.  under a read more if you do wanna know more about me.  won’t be tagging anyone ‘cause i don’t have anyone to tag, but if you wanna do it, go for it and let me know, please. c:

ONE: Name/Alias - stitch bc I grew up when internet anonymity was Important and You Have To Do It Or Else and i’m not over that conditioning

TWO: Birthday - sep 22

THREE: Zodiac sign - virgo (or virgo/libra cusp to some)

FOUR: Height - 5'5

FIVE: Hobbies - tennis, reading, fantasizing about what i wanna write writing, drawing, surfing the ‘net, sleeping, amateur photography, avoiding things i don’t wanna do like the plague, sleeping, doodling (bc it’s different than drawing, i swear), being a lil shit, baking, going to museums, video games

SIX: Favourite colours - reds, black, purples, greens, pinks... but also like... i like every color a lot?  red is a clear favorite and some hurt my eyes more often than not (neons, whites, yellows - lighter brighter colors) but like... colors, man.  i love ‘em.

SEVEN: Favourite books - brand spankin’ new one - good omens.  older one - pride and prejudice.  still quite fond of the hp books, fuck off.  sherlock holmes. getting into manga: bnha, ancient magus bride, daiya, hq!!

EIGHT: Last song I listened to - an a/c playlist... a bastille song, warmth, is on rn as i type this

NINE: Last film I watched in theatres - oh fuck uhh... probably spiderman far from home??

TEN: Inspiration for muse - music.  straight up my only muse, generally speaking.  if hyperfixation counts, that.  but i don’t suppose it does, really.

ELEVEN: Dream job - pro tennis player.  just.  fuck, man.  that’d be the life.  or an archaeologist?  shit i love dinosaurs lol.  never considered it ever since i was a kid bc my dad said the salary was unstable, and he’s right, but... you know those kids that look like they’re gonna pee themselves when they’re looking at dinosaurs?  i never grew out of that.  startled my friends with that bc, i quote, “we’ve never seen you that expressive before”

TWELVE: Meaning behind your URL - i love lilo and stitch.

Nickname: poke-baller lmaooo.  my friend’s parents call me that and have for like... eight years now?  i mean, i suppose people generally focus on either my name or a nickname they want to give me (bc i respond to anything and don’t care so long as it’s not rude), but personally i think of myself as me and just go with whatever people wanna call me.

Gender: female

Where I’m From: ‘murica

Dream Trip:  you know what.  fuckin’ anywhere, man.  this girl is gonna fuckin travel and no one is gonna stop me.

When I Made This Account: hell if i know.  maybe 2009?  a friend made me and didn’t explain how tumblr worked, so i didn’t use it, forgot about it, and got back on in 2013 when a different friend wanted me to make an account and explained how things worked.  don’t think i used it too regularly until 2014-ish tho.

Why I Made This Account: oops.  look above lol.

Hogwarts House: proud slytherin

Favorite Animal: cats.  any type.  house cats?  big cats?  little big cats?  fat cats?  skinny cats?  hairless cats?  fluffy cats?  cats.

Followers: 611... which includes porn bots, accounts that have followed me through multiple fandoms (i see y’all, don’t think i don’t notice y’all), and dead blogs.

Rules: Bold everything that applies to you and tag ten people you’d like to get to know

I’m over 5’5” // i wear glasses // i wear contacts // I have blonde hair // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings // I have at least one tattoo  // I have blue eyes // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails // I typically wear makeup  // I don’t often smile (resting bitch face ftw) // I am pleased with how I look // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backwards

I play a sport // I can play an instrument // I am artistic // I know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami // I prefer movies to tv shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with friends // I travel during school or work breaks // I can do a handstand //

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year my entire life lmao  // I have a crush // I have a best friend I have known for ten years // my parents are together // I have dated my best friend // I am adopted // my crush has confessed to me (and then i turned him down on the counsel of a friend, which was good bc he had anger issues i’d never seen bc he never got angry with me) // I have a long-distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made online friends // I have met up with someone I met online

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sunrise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colors // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favorite season

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // I am the mom friend // I live by a certain quote // I like the smell of sharpies  // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick-shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game (give me pokemon or give me death) // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial (technically speaking.  do/will i claim it on forms?  no.) // I am a redhead // I own at least three dogs

#ask stitch #well not really an ask #but like #thats the only tag i got

[just-jordie-things]

Gangster’s Paradise - Richie Tozier (chapter nine)

word count: 4739 warnings: swearing, fist fighting, mentions of smoking, mentions of drug dealing, themes of depression, sexual innuendos a/n: this is by far my favorite chapter of this entire series. not my gif

[chapter one]  [chapter two]  [chapter three]  [chapter four]  [chapter five] [chapter six]  [chapter seven]  [chapter eight]

Monday morning was like one of those awful hangovers you get after a long night partying.  Where your body is sore, and you’re sure there must be bruises.  Her throat was dry and lips were chapped, completely parched.  Her head is spinning and she could the urge to vomit but she hadn’t eaten anything and throwing up on an empty stomach was a painful hassle she didn’t want to deal with.

y/n felt the same way walking into school late as she did waking up earlier that morning.  She’d woken up on time, but stayed in bed all through first period, feeling like complete, and utter shit.

She dragged her already worn down sneakers al over the house as she got ready.  Which, today was just putting on clean clothes and a cap to cover the fact that she didn’t brush her hair or apply any makeup.  Or that she was incredibly hungover.

Even once she walked herself to school, she was dragging her feet.  But she was already late, so at this point it didn’t matter how long it took her to get to school.

The walking trip alone was half an hour.

Richie was wandering the halls, Ben and Bill walking with him as well.  Technically they were supposed to be heading to first period, but none of them really wanted to be there anyways.  Besides, Richie had a lot to vent about his weekend to his friends.

“So, it was a mutual breakup?” Ben asked, trying to piece together this long story.  Richie shrugged his shoulders in a lame answer, but it was the best he could offer.

“W-well d-d-did you th-think it was for the b-best?” Bill asked.

Richie wasn’t sure.  On the one hand, he was sure that without him as a distraction, y/n would figure out what she needed to do.  But he prayed to go that she found a safe way to ditch Bowers and come back to him with open arms.  But on the other hand, he wasn’t sure just how in deep she was with Henry and his gang of imbeciles.  And he wasn’t sure how quickly, or safely, she could leave a gang.  Especially one she’s in charge of.

“I’ve got no clue Bill” Richie sighed.  “But I want her back.  It was strange sleeping without her last night”

“Awe” Ben cooed under his breath, but Richie ignored it.  Not even bothering to slap the boy’s arm like he usually might have.

“It’s all strange.  I had her back in my life for what felt like years but looking back it seemed like seconds” Richie rambled on, feeling the romantic sap spill off his tongue.  Ben, who was smiling a the bittersweet words, and Bill, who was frowning at the sadness of Richie’s tone, both walking and listening intently to their friend.  “I just need her to be safe.  And I was the reason she wasn’t safe”

“N-n-no you w-weren’t R-Richie” Bill said, brows drawn together.  “y/n b-brought that on huh-herself” Richie gave Bill a sharp look, but didn’t protest as he went on.  “Y-y-you were helping her g-get out of it”

“No I wasn’t” Richie mumbled back.

“Y-yes you w-were.  Sh-she’d still b-be with them if-”

“If you didn’t ask her out last friday” Ben murmured, finishing Bill’s thoughts.  “If you hadn’t asked her out, and followed through with it and became a part of her life again, she’d still be stuck in that terrible place with the Bowers gang” He said.  “She’d be worse off than ever.  Except for now.  I’ll bet without you, she’s miserable” Ben said, looking to Bill for backup.  The stammering boy nodded in agreement, while Richie stayed silent.

y/n felt miserable.  Standing in the empty hallways and staring into the abyss of her near-empty locker.  Before now, she’d never realized how painfully empty it was.  There were no pictures, no drawings on the inside.  Just the blank grey metal.  Looking at it now made her feel worse, but she couldn’t place why.  It was just sad.

Sighing, she opened up her backpack and dropped off the few binders in her backpack that weren’t necessary for her classes today.  She looked at the things that now barely filled her locker, but now it just seemed more depressing.

y/n groaned loudly before slamming the door shut, no longer wanting to look at it.

“Got a lot of pent up anger princess?” The girl turned, seeing Patrick Hockstetter’s tall form coming down the hallway, not too far from her.  Typically, she’d give hima  snarky and borderline threatening response, but she couldn’t do that anymore.

She’d lost her control over them.

“Fuck off” She mumbled quietly, zipping up her too-big jacket and turning to walk away but Patrick only caught up with her.

“Oh come on, lemme walk you to class pretty girl” Patrick said, looking down at her sickeningly, and licking a tongue over his teeth.

“You must not have heard me when I promptly told you to fuck off” She told him, shooting him a quick glare.

“I was thinkin’ last night y/n/n” Patrick straight up ignored her, slinging an arm around her shoulders and tugging her roughly against him.  y/n’s head ached more at the harsh movement.  “I was wonderin’... what in the hell were you doin’ with frog face this weekend, huh?” y/n stayed silent, and didn’t dare look at him.  “Well? Am I gettin’ an answer? Cause I’ve got a pretty decent assumption in my head pretty girl”

“It’s none of your business anyways Patrick” She told him, but again, he didn’t seem to care.

“Yeah? Cause I feel like you were fuckin’ him all weekend long” Patrick said, and y/n turned away, her chest constricting and her eyes widening.  “No comment angel?”

“None of your business” She repeated, walking a little faster away.  But the older boy took longer strides to catch up with her anyways.

“It’s all my business, we’re the same business, remember princess?”

y/n’s jaw set, and she kept up with her quick pace.

“Come on y/n/n, you don’t wanna share? Why? Frog face got your tongue-”

“Just shut the fuck up!” She spat out, spinning towards him wildly as she yelled.  “Patrick I swear to God I’ll rip your tongue out if you don’t stop fucking running your mouth!”

Patrick smirked, shaking his head down at the girl.  “All Buck Beaver does is run his mouth, but I’m sure you’d far rather appreciate a mouth runnin’ all over your-”

She pounced.  y/n physically leapt off the ground, and shoved him down against the linoleum floor of the hallway.

“There she is!” Patrick hollered, wooing loudly afterwards.  “There’s the y/n we elected for us! There’s the bitch we’ve all been fucking waiting-”  She shut him up, socking her fist hard agaunst his jaw.

“Shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck up!” She screamed over and over again, landing punch after punch clumsily but brutally against Patrick’s face.

It was an out of body experience, let’s say.

Patrick was swinging his arms around, trying to grab hold of her.  Maybe to throw her off of him, or maybe to hit her back.  But she barely even noticed, red blurring her vision so much she couldn’t see past his bruising face.  She didn’t even realize that after knocking his teeth a few times, they were splitting and beginning to splatter blood across his cheeks.

“Come on y/n/n! Come on! Lay it fucking on me!” Patrick laughed in a twisted way, even as she continued swinging.  Until eventually his hands finally found something to grip onto.  Her hair getting yanked on so hard she yelped as he flung her off of him, and stood up, his hand still holding onto her, and he slammed her into the lockers.

“You’re just a fucking psychopath, just like every third kid in this fuckin town” She muttered.  “If you get out of this town, the only place you’re going, is the fucking state penitentiary-”

y/n was silenced my his fist socking her across her cheekbone, finally releasing her hair.  His empty hand clasped around her throat, and he was giving her the most menacing smile she’d ever seen.  Sending a shiver down her spine.

“Bitch, you’re never gonna learn are you?” He spat out, leaning dangerously close to her.  “You’re fucking nothing.  You talk a big game, but have so little.  So, so little.  You’d be better off dead, like all those other kids.  Dead in a ditch in the middle of fucking nowhere.  Even Buck Beaver, is better off without you”

She was silent, the red in her eyes replaced by the overwhelming urge to cry.  Not out of fear, fuck the day y/n was every afraid of the likes of Patrick Hockstetter.  But because he was right.  All she’d done is fuck herself over, and now Richie too.

“Cry baby, come on come on come on” He taunted quietly, begging it from her.  “Cry for me, if you won’t scream, cry”

“Eat.  Shit” She uttered out, before slamming her entire body against his, and started swinging her fists again.  She didn’t care.

“R-Richie” Bill rolled his eyes, cutting off the boy’s ramblings.  “Y-you’ve got to stop b-beating yourself up”

“What’re you talking about? I’m just ranting, it’s what you do with friends”

“No, what you do with friends is talk and complain.  You, are heartbroken” Ben said, before turning down the hallway to go back to class.  “You made me miss ten minutes, now I’m gonna be drilled about where I went”

“Fine.  Go.  Don’t help me” Richie retorted sarcastically.

“You don’t need help Richie” Ben said.  “You need to go talk to y/n, remind her how you feel, tell her you’re there for her.  You think you’re going through shit? She could get thrown in jail any minute.  Or worse.  You don’t think the Bower’s gang would pull a gun on her any second?”

Richie winced, but looked away so that Ben wouldn’t notice.

“If you think you’ve got problems Rich, then you need to suck it up” Ben said, and it was the snarkiest thing that both Richie and Bill had ever heard him say.  “Because she’s got big time shit going on.  And she needs you” With that, Ben walked off, heading back to class.

“She only pushed me away, but it was for the-”

“Don’t say it was for the best” Bill cut him off, without a single stutter in his voice.  “B-Ben’s r-right” Richie sighed, running his hands through his hair a few times before tugging tightly on his curls.  “Really y-you have to s-stop kicking y-yourself over th-this”

“I can’t not do it Bill.  It’s my fault”

“N-no it’s not”

“Yes, it is.  If it weren’t for me, she’d still be in a simple bliss and completely safe” Bill shook his head slightly, biting roughly on his cheek.  Richie you idiot! His mind screamed.

“St-still wrong R-Richie” He said quietly.  “I agree w-with Ben.  Sh-she needs you.  N-now, more than ever”

“I don’t know Bill” Richie said, his voice nearly failing him.

“Sh-she’s only p-pushing you away t-to protect y-you, and t-to keep her g-guard up.  Y-you know y/n better than a-anyone.  So y-you of all p-people should have already f-figured that one ou-out”

Richie was silent.

“Y-you love each other.  Th-that may n-not feel like it’s enough.  B-but it is” Bill said, stopping Richie in the hall completely.  “You b-both need each other.  Y-you just d-don’t realize i-it”

More silence.

“L-look I’ve g-got to get to class.  But y-you should talk to her.  S-soon, Richie” Bill said, patting his friend’s shoulder before walking off to his own class.

He knew he and Ben were right.  He knew that Richie was hurting, but he also knew eventually his trashmouth friend would see what he needed to do.  He’d understand that y/n-

Is fighting Patrick Hockstetter.

She was fighting him, right as Bill tuned the corner he saw the girl shoving and punching at the significantly taller boy.

“H-holy shit y/n” He whispered at first, then yelled, “y/n!”

In a moment of confusion, y/n stopped her attack and turned to see Bill standing at the end of the hall, his eyes wide and lips open in a circle.

“Bill?” She muttered to herself, before she was licked across the face with Patrick’s bony fist.  Her small body knocked to the ground from the impact, and letting out a pained groan as her hand came to brush her fingers over her cheek.  Just as she felt the string of what was going to be a bruise, a foot swung itself against her ribs.  “Fuck!”

“Holy shit!” Bill hollered again, his feet finally moving and carrying him in a sprint towards the scene.  “y/n!”

The girl mentioned stood up again, panting and putting her hands on her knees for a moment to regain her strength.  Not that Patrick cared, as he lunged for her again.  Bill almost jumped in front of her, before she stood suddenly and swung at him.  She landed a punch just under his jaw, but it didn’t faze him one bit.  He snatched her wrist with ease, yanking on her roughly and nearly punching her before Bill pulled the girl out of his grasp.

“F-fuck off” He said, keeping y/n behind him like she needed his protection.  If you asked her, she’d say she didn’t.

“O-o-o-kay B-b-b-b-Billy” Patrick snickered, and pushed Bill aside.  “y/n’s got a death wish, and I intend to grant it for her” He said, licking over his lips.

y/n spit on him.

But he only laughed, that twisted fuck, and leapt towards her, just as she kicked her leg up and kneed him between the legs.  Patrick howled with pain, but it only made him hesitate a few short seconds before grabbing her and shoving her to the ground.  y/n never got the chance to fight back before he began landing punch after punch against her, bruising her skin almost instantly.

She’d never noticed how his hands were like that of a skeleton’s until now.

When the end of the period bell rang and students filed out of classrooms like flies, it grew loud with cheers and chatter upon finding a fight in the halls.  They crowded instantly around Patrick beating the living shit out of y/n, not caring the girl was coughing blood or that her lips were swollen beyond their usual plump appearance.

This crowding lasted a few minutes before a teacher had finally wedged their way through the sea of students.

“Mr Hockstetter! Ms y/l/n! Mr Denbrough! Principal’s office, now!”

Richie was fiddling his pen around between his fingers mindlessly.  Not paying a single ounce of attention to whatever his Calculus teacher was scribbling on the board.

After getting back to class, all he’d done is doodle on his paper, his desk, his own hand, and stared blankly out the window.  Anything to keep him distracted from not only the work he was supposed to be doing, but also the thoughts that kept swimming around in his head.  What to do about y/n what to do about y/n.

On the one hand, he screamed go back to her! Go hold her and remind her you love her!

But on the other, the quiet whispers in his own mind that somehow overpowered the passionate shouts, don’t, you’ll upset her.  You’ll hurt her.  You don’t want to hurt her, do you?

“Fuck!” He shouted suddenly, slamming his pen against the desk and making one of his papers float to the ground.

“Mr Tozier!” His teacher scolded, her writing coming to halt with a loud squeak on the whiteboard.  She put a frustrated hand on her hip, looking for an apology from the boy.  And he knew.  That’s why he didn’t say anything.

“Well? Are you going to apologize to the class for disrupting their learning?” She asked in a tone a mother would use when looking for getting what she wanted.  Richie looked around at all the eyes staring him down.  Curious, prodding eyes.

“Fuck this class” He announced, boldly, but boredly.

“Excuse me?”

“Fuck” Richie repeated, leaning over his desk slightly, “This” He added slowly.  “Class”

Earning himself a glare from his teacher, and an aggressive pointing towards the door.

y/n was slumped down in the uncomfortable chair outside the principal’s office.  She had her hands linked together over her stomach, her foot tapping anxiously on the floor.  There was a bag of ice, wrapped in a paper towel that the nurse had told her to press anywhere she felt pain.  But it hurt everywhere, so she left it sitting on the chair next to her.

She wasn’t sorry for a damned thing she did, so she wasn’t giving into using that bag of ice like a vulnerable pussy.  It made her feel like  badass not using it.  A bruised up, tiny framed, badass.

y/n smiled to herself, her lips aching where they’d been split and swollen.  Dried blood still on them.  Even when she had cleaned up before coming to the office, she couldn’t properly wipe away all the blood with the school’s shitty paper towels, so she’d left it.  Deciding to do it at home when the principal sent her away for a three day suspension she was sure she would receive.

Patrick Hockstetter was sitting in the office now, likely coming up with an extravagant, and untrue, story of how y/n attacked him first.  And he did have the cuts and bruises to prove it.  While y/n may have a good record, Patrick has a good knack for lying.  Surely she’d be sent home with a form for her father to sign, stating she’d be suspended from school for the next few days.

“Fuckin’ stupid” She grumbled, catching Bill’s attention, who was sat across from her in the small waiting area.  He’d been sent to the office as well, even though he’d only tried to break up the fight.  He was still involved, and in the school’s eyes, that’s enough for at least a talking to.

“W-what is?”

“This! This is fucking stupid!” y/n winced after she yelled slightly.  Kind of because it hurt to, but mostly because she’d never yelled at Bill before, and it made her feel… guilty.  Not as guilty as she felt about ignoring him for the past few years though.  “Why are you here?” She asked him hesitantly.

“B-because I-I was caught w-with you g-guys” Bill answered simply, softly.

“I mean why… why’d you come in the first place? Why didn’t you leave?” y/n said, unable to hold eye contact with him.

“B-because I thought h-he’d actually k-kill y-you” Bill answered, earning a short chuckle from her.  “B-besides, R-Richie would’ve been upset if I d-didn’t do a-anything”

y/n’s head snapped up at that, and she was finally confident in keeping an intense stare on Bill.  “Wha-what? Richie he told you-”

“Yeah” Bill answered before she could even finish her sentence.  “I mean… I-I’ve always known” He shrugged his shoulders slightly, and y/n sat back in her seat, sliding down it as she thought.  “It w-was much m-more obvious b-back then” Her eyes cautiously met Bill’s as he looked off somewhere else, smiling as he recalled the days they had spent all together.

“What was obvious?” She asked quietly.  Maybe Bill didn’t know what she thought he did.  He gave her a funny look, cocking his head to the side a little.

“Y-you guys l-love each other” He said, and her lips parted slightly, quickly redirecting her gaze as she shook her head.

“No- no we aren’t” She replied, finally grabbing her bag of ice and pressing it slightly against her bruised ribs.  “We were close, o-of course” She stammered.  “But we weren’t in love” Bill scoffed.

“R-really? After all this y-you c-can’t even admit it?” y/n flinched at his harsh words, but didn’t say anything in reply.  “y/n y-you and R-Richie have t-to be the b-biggest idiots in th-this school-”

“Watch it, Richie and I haven’t spoken years” She snapped at him.

“Liar” Bill replied.  “H-he told me a-all about it” y/n winced at his response, snapping her mouth shut.  “I can’t b-believe you’re still p-putting up this- this bullshit act”

“I’m not putting on an act!” y/n stood up from her seat suddenly, abandoning her ice on it.  “This is just how life turned out Bill! What do you want me to say? What do you expect?” She asked him angrily.  “I’m sorry that we lost touch after all that fucked up shit happened, okay!? I’m sorry Richie and I didn’t go off and get hitched and I’m sorry Bev’s gone and I’m sorry Georgie died and I’m sorry-”

She choked, tears filling her eyes as she found it more and more difficult to yell at him.  Bill stood up, a sorrowful expression on his face as he walked the short distance between them.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry” Her voice was strained as she cried, and in seconds Bill was opening his arms and holding onto her tightly.

“I’m s-sorry too y/n/n” He said quietly, squeezing her carefully, wary of her bruises.

“I fucked up real bad, Bill” She said through short breaths.  “I’m not getting him back, I’m never getting him back”

“You w-will, you’ll f-figure it out” He told her, pulling away and smiling softly at her.  “Y-you two always f-figure it out” y/n frowned, ducking her head down to stare at her beat up sneakers.

“Miss y/l/n” The door opened suddenly, and y/n spun around to see Patrick being let out of the office.  He cast her a look on his way out, smirking and running his tongue over his split lip menacingly.  His eye was bruised as well as his cheekbones, but he didn’t seem to care.

She knew she was screwed.

“You’re next” The principal stated, still holding open the door for her.  y/n turned back to Bill, a worried but apologetic look on her face.

“Don’t worry, I’m telling her the truth.  You won’t be in any trouble” Bill nodded gently.

“Alright. I-I’ll wait here, o-okay?” She nodded back, about to say something else, perhaps thank him, when she was called again.

“Miss y/l/n please don’t make this difficult” The principal’s strict voice rang.  y/n ushered quickly into the office, the door slamming slightly behind her.

Richie swung open the door to the waiting room, whipping it shut behind him and causing Bill to jump.

“Bill?”

“Richie?”

They both spoke at the same time, surprised to find the other there.

“You heard a-about it already?” Bill asked as Richie sat in the seat next to him.  But the glasses wearing boy gave him a confused look.

“Heard about what?” He asked, but just as quickly brushed it off.  “I’m here for cursing in Woods’ class” Bill nodded, not so shocked anymore that Richie was at the office.  “But why’re you here?”

“I tried b-breaking up the f-fight” He replied.  “G-got sent down since I was i-involved, but she’s st-still in there g-getting talked t-to”

“Who? There was a fight and no one told me?” Richie asked, a smug smile tugging on his lips, wishing he’d seen someone throw hands today.  He could’ve used that kind of entertainment.

“Y-you didn’t hear?” Bill asked, and Richie’s amused smile went away from Bill’s quiet and anxious tone.  The one he only used when something went horribly wrong, or he was scared.

“What? About what?” Richie asked, his nerves now getting the best of him.  Bill swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing a few times but he wasn’t sure what to say.  “What Bill? Fucking spit it out what is it? Who was it?”

“R-Richie I’m s-sorr-”

“Just fucking say it Bill who got in-”

Richie was cut off from his question when the principal’s door opened, and y/n walked out.  When she looked up and her eyes instantly landed on his, he shot up right away.

She looked awful, her once soft lips puffy and bruised.  One of her eyes darkening and her cheeks littered in ugly spots of bruising, black and blue, a disgusting color looking like her skin was rotting on her face.  She held a hand over her ribs, and he just knew her shirt was covering even more sores.  Not to mention the dried splatters of blood on her lips.

“Holy shit what happened to you?” Richie breathed out, not meaning to sound rude, but he was so concerned he didn’t even know what to say.

“Mr Tozier, it was your language that got you down here, do you really want a second strike within the hour?” The principal scolded, but he didn’t listen.  y/n’s eyes were set on his, round like a doe caught in the headlights, and she looked like she would either burst into tears or run away.

“I’m fine” She spoke softly, looking down as she headed towards the exit.

“No you’re not” Richie whipped around and followed after her, standing between her and the door.

“Mr Tozier!”

“You’re not fine, what happened? WHo did this to you-?”

“No one Richie, leave it alone” She warned him quietly.  “Let me go”

“Fuck no-”

“Mr Tozier! I won’t warn you again!” The principal call, and he grimaced, looking away from the girl in front of him for a few seconds.

“You’re not ignoring this with me” He told her, before walking to the office.  y/n’s brows furrowed together as she turned to watch him walk into the office.  His eyes caught hers for a moment, then quickly diverted as he disappeared into the principal’s area.

She didn’t look at Bill as she rushed out of the office, heading straight for her locker.  It hurt her shoulder as he backpack moved roughly against it, but she didn’t care.  She needed out of this damn school as soon as she could.  Why did Richie show up? Of all people that could’ve walked into that office, he had to.  Of course.  The hungover, bruised girl looked down at the paper in her hands, not caring to read all the fine text printed on it, only seeing the big bold letters reading, NOTICE OF SUSPENSION.  The bottom of the page held a long line where her father was meant to sign.  Though he likely would never see this paper.

“Well well if it isn’t princess herself” She saw Patrick waiting for her at her locker, but his presence didn’t faze her like he was hoping it would.

“What more do you want Patrick? Another ass beating?” She asked, sounding tired as she pushed him slightly to the side to put her locker combo in.

“Course not babe, I just wanna talk”

“Last time you said that you asked if I’d fuck you” She responded dryly.  He chuckled, swiping his tongue over his bloody lips before shaking his head.

“Offer always stands, sweetheart.  But again, this isn’t that kind of talk” He told her, making her grimace, but not look at him as she got her things out of her locker.  “Just wanted to make sure you knew… that you’ve been removed of your position” He said in a husky whisper.

Y/n turned to him quickly, a look of surprise on her face as she was filled with hope.  “I’m out?” She asked quietly, her optimism shining through her words.  But Patrick laughed barkingly, shaking his head at the girl.

“Foolish bitch” He said at the end of his laughter.  “You tried screwing us over, you’re never getting out” With that, he walked off down the hall.  y/n’s face fell to one of terror as she watched him leave.  “And if Henry won’t kill you? I sure as hell will!” He hollered before he was out of sight.

“Shit” She cursed under her breath slamming her locker shut and leaning her head against it.  The coolness of the metal felt nice on her face, but she was far too worried about what was to come to care about her bruises now.  “I’m fucking dead”

my. favorite. chapter.

taglist: @awtozier @fightmebub  @catching-fire-in-the-wind @black-tights-black-heart @socially-awkward-nerd @depressed-trashcann @beepbeeprichtozier @timsflannels @theidjitsimpalaa @timsflannels @theidjitsimpalaa @itsluzymeh

xoxo ~ jordie

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