#but losing trust and faith in god is like having the bottom block pulled out of your little tower

[vulpinesaint]

mkay not to be like. a little insane or anything. but god i've been going crazy over religion (catholicism) and blood lately. did anyone else drink blood as worship every week since they were seven. was anyone else inundated with images of open wounds as holy. is anyone else consumed by the thought of holding onto a crucifix tightly enough for the edges of it to draw blood. i turned in a poem about drowning in communion wine in an empty church while bleeding from crucifix-inflicted hand wounds and trying to talk to god and my creative writing professor gave me extremely normal critiques i feel like i'm losing my mind

#is ANYONE ELSE here. #also i made my poetry insta and i was gonna backpost but i think i might just sit and stare at it until april sfkghsd #it's me and my few hundred tumblr followers on my poetry acc. and the five thousand pornbots on this one ig #life is so. like. #i CONSTANTLY think that being raised catholic didn't do that much to me but obviously it did SOMETHING #you know what. yeah. cause i didn't end up with guilt over being queer but i did end up having my whole world view torn away from me #cause when god is the fundamental building block to everything... #my parents were extremely reasonable about things all things considered #but losing trust and faith in god is like having the bottom block pulled out of your little tower #and since i was fifteen i feel like i've been trying to either get it out fully without letting it all crumble #or trying to push it back without causing more damage #and the tower's never gonna be the same no matter what. you know. #i suck at self reflection so i never actually think about this stuff but dear god does it consume me #like no i did not end up with catholic guilt really. however being asked to examine yourself as a sinner at 7 will do things to you #HATE myself why am i still awake. so fucking upset i need to be up so early tomorrow skdjfgh #screaming and crying. anyway anyone else up thinking about catholicism and blood??? #valentine notes #catholic tag

[storiesforallfandoms]

sucker for pain ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1494

request?: yes!

“can you please do a colson one where the reader is getting their first tattoo and he’s by her side then he realizing they have a pain kink and yeah”

description: in which he finds out his girlfriend has a kink he’d never imagine she’d have

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

*i changed it from the reader getting their first tattoo because i missed the “first” part when writing for some reason i’m sorry i hope you still like it!*

gif credit to @poppy-in-the-woods !

“Are you sure you want to get a tattoo on your ribs?” Colson asked as you waited in the lobby for your next tattoo. “You know how much that hurts, right?”

“It’s one of the more painful places,” you said. “I know that. Have some faith in me, baby, I’ll be fine.”

Colson still looked skeptical, but decided to drop it. You were stubborn and you were set on getting this tattoo, he knew he wasn’t about to talk you out of it.

You had decided a week or so back that you wanted to get a tattoo in honor of Colson. Instead of something small, like his initials or his name or something, you decided to get your favorite of his lyrics tattooed on your ribcage. You even had him write the lyrics out so you could get his writing as the font for it.

It was a bit big of a tattoo, and you were getting it in a very painful place, so Colson was worried you weren’t going to be able to handle it when the tattoo started. He insisted he wanted to come with you to be your emotional support if nothing else.

“Hey (Y/N)!” your tattoo artist, Mack, said as he walked into the parlor. “You’re early! Wanna get started now?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, why not?”

“Okay! Follow me in.”

You followed him into his area and he pulled the curtain across to block the view of anyone from outside. He turned back to you and Colson, eyeing your famous boyfriend for just a moment. “So, he does realize you’re going to be shirtless for this entire thing, right?”

Colson chuckled and nodded. “I’m aware you’re going to be starring at my girlfriend in just a sports bra for like an hour or more. Don’t worry, I’m cool with it.”

You could see Mack’s shoulders slump as he sighed with relief. “Okay good. You would not believe how many boyfriends lose their minds over their girlfriends having to take their shirt off for a tattoo, even if their tits aren’t actually out. If (Y/N) wasn’t a regular, I probably would’ve turned her down for this one just for my own safety.”

You laughed as you began to unbutton the blouse you had decided to wear - much easier to get back on once the tattoo was done. You laid down on the table and Mac started to line up your tattoo on your ribs.

“Last chance to back out,” Colson said as he sat down next to you.

You shot him a look. “Why are you so intent on me giving up on this because of pain?”

“She’s a tough chick, man,” Mack agreed. “I don’t think she’s ever flinched while I’ve given her a tattoo. It’s like she gets off on the pain or something.”

You shot a glare at Mack that he didn’t see as he was back on to you before relaxing your head back on the table. Colson looked at your curiously, making a mental note of what Mack had said.

The tattoo began and Colson took your hand in his. You looked over and smiled at him for a moment, wincing slightly when the needle touched your skin first. The pain suddenly radiated through your ribcage, but it didn’t bother you the way Colson had expected it would. You would wince every now and then, but you still had a light hold on his hand.

When Mack was finally finish, the black letters were bolded by the red of your irritate skin. Mack cleaned it and placed the bandage over the fresh tattoo. “I won’t give you the spiel on how to take care of this thing for the next few days.”

“You’ve said it so many times I think I know it word for word at this point,” you teased. You winced as you sat up from the table, both from the pain from the tattoo and from the stiffness of your back. “God, you guys need more comfortable tables. Feels like I was lying on the floor for an hour.”

“You’ve been there before, you know how uncomfortable it is.”

You playfully stuck your tongue out at him before turning to Colson. “What do you think, babe?”

Colson’s eyes studied the tattoo for a moment, still processing the fact that you got a major tattoo on your ribcage and barley flinched the entire time. “It looks really good. Is it what you wanted?”

You smiled. “Of course it is! I have something to remind me of you forever now, which means please don’t break up with me. It’ll cost so much to get this removed or covered.”

Colson chuckled and also rose from his seat. “I promise babe.”

You pulled your button up back on and headed to the front to pay for the tattoo. You couldn’t help pulling your shirt up to look at the tattoo once more as you and Colson started walking towards the door.

“Mack is probably the best tattoo artist I’ve ever been to,” you said. “He’s just phenomenal. I don’t think I’d trust anyone else the way I trust him.”

“He seems to know you pretty well,” Colson commented. “Like the fact that you seem to be into the pain that comes from getting a tattoo.”

You felt your face heat up as you tried to look away from Colson. You kept your voice as light as possible as you said, “Yeah, well, I’ve gotten a few tattoos at this point. I’m just used to the pain of the needle I guess.”

“I’m literally covered in tattoos and sometimes the pain is still unbearable for me,” Colson pointed out.

“We’re different people, Colson. Different people handle pain differently.”

Colson looked over at you as you tried to avoid his eyes. You wished you had been the one to drive so that you could get out of this awkward situation a lot sooner.

“Babe,” Colson said. You sighed and finally turned your head to look at him. “You know I am the last person to judge you on your kinks, right?”

You nodded. “I know, but...I’m just worried what your reaction would be if I straight up told you that I have a pain kink.”

“Well, for starters, I’d tell you that you’re dating the right guy since all I do is hurt myself.” You chuckled at this. “When did you realize you got off on pain?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I was a teenager I think. It might’ve been when I got my first stick and poke tattoo. All my friends hated the pain and complained for days, but I found myself kind of liking it. When I started having sex, I’d ask my boyfriend at the time to choke me or spank me, basically anything that caused the slightest bit of pain.”

Colson shuffled in his seat, a bulge beginning to grow in his pants that he was hoping you wouldn’t notice.

“Not all guys are into the idea, weirdly enough,” you continued. “I’ve been with some guys that consider it a deal breaker. I even had a one night stand just completely stop having sex with me because I kept telling him he wasn’t being rough enough. I guess I just associated that negative reaction with the kink in my mind and never wanted to tell you in case you thought the same way.”

Colson chuckled. “(Y/N), I have a foot fetish. I am literally the last person you have to worry about thinking your pain kink is weird.”

You smiled. “Yeah, you have a point. I just don’t wanna scare you off. I like you a lot, Colson.”

Colson reached over and took your hand in his, giving it a slight squeeze. “You won’t scare me off. I wanna know what you’re into, and what will make you feel good when we’re having sex.”

“You make me feel good anyways,” you assured him. “But, if you’re really interested in getting to know that side of me more, I could show you exactly what I’m into.”

"Even though you just got a new tattoo.” You gave him a look, which caused him to laugh. “Okay, fair enough. I’d love to learn, although it may take me a long time, fair warning.”

“I’ll give you all the time you need.”

Colson smirked and leaned over to kiss you passionately. You turned as much as you could in your seat to cup his face and deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth for a short while. When you pulled away, Colson nipped at your bottom lip, which caused you to clench your thighs together in anticipated pleasure.

“Get us home before I climb on your lap in this parking lot,” you told him.

Colson didn’t have to be told twice. Within seconds, he had the car started and was racing out of the parking lot and back towards his house.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #imagine #one shot #request #mgk #est #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[rae-arts777]

Ok I’ll spar you guys the million screenshots!

RAE IS MAKING A MINI STORY ON THIS! Cause just cause i was bored doesn’t mean you guys have to be ill post the picture of the summary at the end

TW: death stuff, this is Danganronpa simulation by the way

Chapter 1:

The motive was freedom, the first blackened, if they can get away, they’ll be able to walk away, into the outside world. Of course, all you got to do is kill and be free, easy right?

It didn’t take long for Coleman to go mad. Just kill one person and he can leave right? Sam was alone, he can went off the explore the area they were stuck in.

It was too easy. Too easy. All it took was one clean hit to the temple, and Sam was dead. He did it. He could leave now? Right?

A body has been discovered. 

Clark screamed, seeing his brother dead on the ground. Makoto wrapped his arms around Clark tightly, he didn’t expect a murder so soon. Coleman just looked at them and laughed. He could le-

No one ever said anything about a trail. The trail...how could Coleman even defend himself? Clark and Makoto saw him over Sam’s body. It didn’t take long for the votes to be casted, as Coleman was dragged out of the room to his doomed faith.

Chapter 2:

The motive was revenge. There were a few people here who had bad blood against each other.

Liu’s eye flickered to Dorothy, that woman, costs him many things. His plan was simple, such a poor weak looking woman would not stand a chance against him.

His kill would be brutal, he wanted her to pay.

Late that night, Liu walked quietly up behind Dorothy, who was alone in the rec room. Her headphones blocked out any noises. Just as he raised the knife to kill, a body tackled him.

Shi Won Kim. The two wrestle for the knife. Dorothy took over her headphones and spun around alarm to see them fighting.

“DOROTHY!! RUN!” Was the last words like left Shi Won’s mouth when a knife was plunged through her heart.

Dorothy let out a heartbroken scream. Watching as Liu continued to stab at Won’s body. Even though Dorothy wasn’t his kill, this woman under him also screwed him over.

Dorothy darted out the room screaming still, her screams carrying down the hall to the others.

A body has been discovered

The trail was quick, Dorothy was still sobbing. It should have been her. It should have been her. Liu cursed Dorothy out as he was dragged away to his await punishment.

Chapter 3:

The motive was obsession. It was no surprise Ishigami had some admiration obsession with Akemi. It was no surprise Akemi had the obsession of keeping Makoto as her own. Despite knowing he was against her, Akemi still, chose to give Makoto her full attention.

Akemi spent whatever time she could with Makoto. Makoto would only go with her cause he knew she would not back down until he said yes.

Over the pass few days, they actually grew sort of close. Oz hated it. Seeing the way that woman laid her hands on his son. The way she called him son, telling him to call her mom. It hurt to see that Makoto did prefer Akemi over him.

Akemi could see the way Oz would look at them. She won’t have it. She won’t have this man take her son. Ishigami, would do anything for Akemi. Anything. She told him to prove his loyalty. Kill Oz.

Need say more? Ishigami followed Oz until he saw the perfect moment. The training room, Ishigami used a cord from the rec room, and choked Oz out. He watch in pleasure as Oz’s face turned blue. The last sight Ishigami saw was Oz’s body going limp, before a forced behind him broke his neck.

Two bodies have been discovered

The trail, Makoto couldn’t help but cry, he had regret. He didnt think Oz would be a victim of this game. Sure Makoto held a grudge against him, but seeing another parent dead, Oz actually being dead, it hurt. Akemi was in the hotbox. It wasn’t a secret she wanted Makoto to herself

Akemi admitted she did ask for Oz to be killed, but Ishigami she didn’t know.

Everyone stood conflicted, couldn’t they even trust this woman? She just admitted she asked for Oz to be killed. Abby sighed heavily and raised her arms up.

“It was me...”

Abby thought she could have saved Oz in time, she figured it was worth dying if she could save him. But she failed.

Makoto broke down more, not Abby.

Abby walked towards the three other members of Team Confidence. Laurent, Cynthia, and Makoto. The four of them shared a tight hug, the three of them holding Abby tightly and close. It didn’t take long for the tears to start pouring, from all four of them. Abby started to sobbed, hugging the three tighter

“Thank you....for making my life worth living..”

Abby walked willing to her execution, waving a sad goodbye to her family. (Hello I’m crying now )

Chapter 4:

The motive was lovers sickness. Being so close together for a long time sparks love between a few people.

Dorothy still heartbroken over Shi Won, Laurent dreaded over Abby’s execution. The two pervious lovers, started to lean on each other for comfort.

Clark tried his best to comfort Makoto. He hated seeing the man spending his days looking like a shell of a person.

Clark made it his mission to take care of Makoto. And to as far as starting to sleep in Makoto’s room at night. It didn’t take long, Clark..loved him. He loved Makoto. He loved him so so so so so much. His Makoto.

Over the pass few days, Makoto being to become himself again. He knew Abby and Oz would want him to keep fighting. He was going to survive for them.

Makoto went to go see how Laurent was holding up. During his time with Dorothy, Laurent learned the feeling he had for her were long gone. However, Dorothy had started falling for the Belgian man during their time together. Laurent smiled as Makoto walked up to him.

The two men hugged each other, both taking a deep breathe. Losing Abby hurt, but they will get out of this for her. Makoto melted into Laurent’s arms, as Laurent held him close. It wasn’t much, just a peck of the head. Laurent pressed his lips against Makoto’s forehead, feeling the small man melt even more into his arms

Clark felt his blood boil from a distance. How. Dare. He. Try. To. Take. His. Makoto?

That night, Laurent was heading to Dorothy’s room to talk to her about how he felt towards her. As he open the door he was me at by a horrible sight.

Dorothy’s body swung back and forth, strung up by her neck on the ceiling fan. Blood dripping from her mouth, the room was trashed like there was a struggle.

Laurent fell to his knees shaking. Not Dorothy too..

Clark busted out of the bathroom holding a bat.

Laurent and Dorothy hung side by side. Clark smiled at his work, leaving a note on the nightstand. Lovers suicide, surely everyone would believe it.

Two bodies have been discovered

Clark held Makoto during the trail. It was a suicide what are they suppose to do?

“Suicide?” Casano shook his head “its more like a homicide”

Salazar nodded in an agreement. The two men had been in a messy business long enough to know when someone was covering up a murder with a suicide. So they did have a killer. But who?

Clark couldn’t contain his laughter. Oh. He had fail. How...interesting.

“YOU COULDNT JUST LET IT HAPPEN HUH?!” Clark snapped at the two men.

Makoto’s eyes widen as he pulled himself away from Clark. “Clark-“

“What? Oh baby..” Clark smiled at him sweetly “don’t be so scared, I did it for you. For us! Don’t you get it?! Laurent was in the way of us! And I couldn’t risk his little girlfriend seeing me killing him! So I took care of her first!!”

Makoto stared into horror. This...wasn’t the Clark he knew.

Clark was dragged away to his punishment, he kept yelling for Makoto.

“Baby! I did it for you!! Please! Come on! Baby! ANSWER ME!!!”

Makoto ran to Cynthia’s arms for comfort. The redhead covered his ears to block out Clark’s yells.

Clark died with a sickness, but they never knew what that sickness was.

Chapter 5

There was no motive involve this time. Sometimes a killing really is an accident.

Cynthia and Yao were auguring by a flight of stairs. It was getting heated. Kudo overheard and went to investigate. He tried to make himself the medium. He knew he had to calm them down, cause to things got messy, Cynthia didn’t stand a chance against Yao.

The fighting got worst, as Yao got in her face, Cynthia scratched his face with her nails. The man screamed in pain and walked backwards holding his face. Before he was warned, he felt his foot fall.

The big man fell down the stairs. Now a fall down the stairs can’t kill you, unless you land on your neck just right. That was the case for Yao. The man laid at the bottom of the long flight, with a broken neck.

Cynthia started shaking. She killed him. She killed him. And now. Oh god. She’s next.

Kudo tried to calm her down. Maybe they Can reason, it was an accident! She didn’t mean too. Kudo grabbed her by her hands and lead her to the kitchen. Some tea would calm her down.

Two bodies had been discovered.

Makoto felt sick during the trail. They had found both Yao at the bottom of the stairs and Cynthia in the kitchen dead. Thomas was quiet the whole time, staring at the ground.

Just as they began the discussion, Kudo confessed.

“I’m sorry...”

Kudo explained, he knew Cynthia would have faced a horrible death. He knew she was scared. He knew there was no way around it. He wanted to lead her out of this world in peace. A poison of the tea, nothing painful. She fell sleepily and that was that. She went out in peace.

Makoto wanted to be angry, but at the same time...Kudo was taking Cynthia’s place in a horrible death.

Kudo smiled cheerily as he was lead out to his doom.

Chapter 6

It was a homestretch, the motive was given to one person, and it was self driven. It was looking they were going to make it out of here. Right?

Thomas couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to be alive anymore. He thought he could make it out of here, but after seeing Cynthia dead...something pushed him over the edge.

The next few days, Thomas begged someone to kill him. He wanted to die, he couldn’t go through with suicide, so he needed someone to kill him. Salazar tried to smack the man straight

“Would Cynthia want to see you like this.? She want you to live”

“Cynthia........please...just...I want to see her again”

Thomas’ wish was granted.

A body has been discovered

Thomas laid bleeding on the ground. His head was broken open, a bloody bat next to him.

The trail was tense. There was so little people.

Makoto looked around and scanned the faces. Everyone suspected everyone.

“I’m sorry....”

Makoto bowed “I just granted him his wish...does that really make me a horrible killer..?”

Akemi screamed, no no no no, not her son. Not him. Not him. Not him.

Salazar looked at the young man..disappointed.

Casano huffed and shook his head “a killer is a killer..but...I guess some killing can be just”

Makoto stood up “I....I’m sorry...I...” he looked up “just want to see everyone again...” a sad smile spread across his face. “When you guys get out of here...make sure a sick game like this never happens again..”

A motive was the chance to see everyone again...but there was a price.

Makoto slowly walked to his death. Akemi tried to run after him, but was held back by Salazar.

When Makoto took his last breath, a door the three had never seen opened.

It was over......but why did they be the ones to survive?

Why couldn’t...at least Makoto survived?

#great pretender #the great pretender #grepre #makoto edamura #laurent thierry #edamura makoto #great pretender anime #abigail jones #cynthia moore #abby jones #dorothy great pretender #seiji ozaki #shi won kim #kudo great pretender #clark ibrahim great pretender #sam ibrahim great pretender #DV simulation #this basically turned into a mini fanfic

[phoenixsavant]

AS - Recovery

I was chatting with SapphiraIce from Tumblr about V's after ending.  After admitting that I felt that Seven was cheated out of being part of saving his brother, this idea hit me.  So, it's all her fault.  Here's Saeran's rescue with Seven in on it.

Not sure if this will be a one-off or turn into another series.  We'll see.  There's certainly fertile ground to write more, but I'm not sure if it needs more.

               Seven reeled back from the force of the explosion. He was barely aware of the wave of heat that swept across his skin even as an arm rose protectively to cover his face. He peered over the black cloth of his hoodie as rubble fell.  

               “No…” he whispered.  “No…”

               The flames rose high, consuming what remained of the rooftop and encompassing the odd, steeple-like extension over the main entrance.  Seven’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open.  From some half-forgotten place inside, a scream rose, filling the air around him. The volume competed with the roaring of the inferno that filled his sight.  

               Twice he tried to approach the building, determined to find the man he suspected would be inside.  Cinders scorched his sleeve before the heat drove him back. Cursing the instinctive self-preservation within himself, a feeling he didn’t find in his thoughts at all, he fell to his knees, weeping.  

               “Saeran, please, no…”

               He didn’t move as the building burned itself into a pile of ash and rubble.

 (Two days later)

                 The phone rang again, and Seven hated that he’d created it to withstand any abuse he could give it.  Throwing it would have felt better if he’d thought it would actually shatter on impact.

               Why is V calling me?  What can he possibly think he has left to say to me.  I know.  I know he let Saeran die.  He has to know that I figured it out.  If he were smart, he’d just disappear.

               He turned up the volume on his headphones, determined to focus on his work.  It wasn’t the work he’d been assigned, but that didn’t matter.  Nothing matter anymore, not really.  Still, before it was done he would see to it that there was penance for the death of his brother.

               Saeran, the first secret he’d carried among the hundreds of thousands that now rattled through his mind.  The better half of the twins, in his estimation.  His brother had been kinder, gentler than anyone he’d known as a child or since.   To first find that he’d been turned into a hacker, denied the simple joys of a normal life, that had been a heavy enough blow.  Then to lose him when he’d been so close, it was more than the red-haired hacker could endure.  Yes, there would be payment, in full if he had any say.

               After another half dozen calls, he finally answered the call. “What do you want?” he snarled.

               “There’s a chance Saeran is alive.  I’m on the way to pick you up.”

               Seven’s heart froze in his chest.  He looked over his shoulder, making sure that Vanderwood was still in the kitchen.  “What? How? If he was inside that place, he’s not alive.  I was there. I saw…”

               “I know what you saw,” V said, cutting him off. “I also just found out that the room he should have been in was reinforced and may have survived the explosion. Get ready.  I’ll be there in less than five minutes.”

               The line went dead.  Seven stared at the phone in his hands.  Right now, all he wanted was to beat V hard enough to leave him hospitalized for life. He hated the man who’d been like a father to him.  He had been betrayed at every turn.

               A slim chance is better than no chance.

               Deciding that his project to exact revenge for Saeran could wait for a few hours, he scribbled a note for Vanderwood, snuck to his room, and shoved a few items into a backpack and slipped out without his partner detecting his absence.  Outside, he sped along the path to the place he knew V would be waiting.

               V’s car idled under the trees, its driver waiting inside.  Seven took a deep breath, pushing down the desire to take out his rage on the man he’d trusted with the most important part of his life.  Yanking the door open, he flung himself into the front seat and shoved his backpack to the floor.  He didn’t look at V as he pulled the door closed and asked, “What do you mean he’s still alive?  This better not be a trick.  I’ll kill you if it is.”

               He felt he should have been surprised at how dangerous his voice sounded.  The dark, deep tones filled the interior of the vehicle.

               “I talked to Rika.  She told me that the room Saeran would have been in to trigger the explosion was heavily reinforced.  She said it’s possible that he survived.  I don’t know what we’ll find, but I can’t dig him out on my own. Whether he survived or not, you should be there when…” V’s voice faltered.

               Seven looked over at the blue-haired man.  He was surprised to catch what looked like V wiping a tear away from his face.  “So it was him?  The hacker that attacked the RFA was Saeran?”

               “Yes, it was him.”  V glanced at Seven.  “I’m sorry, more than I have words for.  I was trying to save him, to get him out of there.  It wasn’t supposed to be…”

               “Damn straight it wasn’t supposed to be that way!” Seven growled.  “I don’t want your apologies, V.  In fact, fuck you and your apologies.  The only reason I’m here is because you used Saeran’s name.  If you hadn’t, I’d have told you to go to hell and blocked your calls.”  His fingers curled into tight fists in his lap. “You’re a liar and a traitor.  I hate you.”  

               Almost as much as I hate myself.

               “I know.  I don’t blame you.”

               “Shut up and drive.”

               The rest of the trip to Magenta passed in complete silence.  Seven’s mind roared within his skull, so enraged with V that his head ached somewhat by the time they arrived.  His jaw felt as if it had been soldered shut, so fiercely had he been clenching it.

               The car rolled up to the pile of charred rubble where Magenta had stood just as the sun began its descent toward the horizon. Stepping out of the car and rolling his shoulders, Seven wished he’d been able to pack better.  They’d have to make do with the flashlights he’d brought instead of having the larger lights in his own car.  He wasn’t stopping when night came.  He wasn’t stopping until he held his brother, alive or dead.

               “Where?” he asked V.

               “This way,” V answered, taking a pair of shovels from the trunk and moving swiftly to the rear of the building.  “There’s supposed to be a stairway leading down and the reinforced room is at the bottom. She said the stairwell was built the same as the room, so it should be standing.  If it isn’t, I have ropes.”  He paused, looking down at the younger man.  “We will find him.”

               Seven responded with a grunt, watching to see where V began digging.   He grabbed the extra shovel and joined in.

               The only thing to alert either man to the passage of time was the lengthening of shadows around them.  They did not pause in their efforts, setting aside the shovels only when they had to work together to move a larger remnant of the building aside.  The ash and soot filled the air, choking them and leaving black streaks cut by trails of sweat.  

               When the sun went down, they tried setting up the flashlights but quickly found that there was no way to position them to keep enough light on the situation to make sufficient progress.  V pulled the car around, bouncing it gently over the scorched flower beds until he could bathe the site beneath the headlights.

               The path to the location of the stairwell opened before them and they worked their way down through three floors of debris, searching for the promised opening.  

Seven had often prayed, his faith in God being his anchor in life, but he’d never prayed like this.  Anything, my life, my freedom, anything, just let him be alive.  Let me reach him.  Let him be there.  Please don’t show me his body when we get through this.  I’ll give anything, anything….

The words raced, repeating endlessly, like a summoner’s chant.  

V’s shovel drove through the mess and stopped with a loud clang.  Looking at Seven he pulled it back and slammed it down again, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.  A second impact resounded through the still air and both men turned to scraping away the blackness over the solid space. Hope gave way to despair as they realized they were standing on a massive block of cement right where the opening to the stairs should have been.  

Seven dragged his shovel around, seeking the edges of the block, his horror growing as he realized that either a floor or a large exterior wall had collapsed on this exact spot.  He hadn’t packed any explosives, and the segment was too large to rope off and pull away.  For the second time, he sunk to his knees at Magenta and screamed into the night.

“You damn fool,” a gruff voice called from the darkness.  “First you run off without telling me, make me track your ass to the middle of nowhere, and now you’re just going to give up?”

Seven’s hand shot to where his gun should have been, but he’d left it in the car.

“Right, because you wouldn’t have been dead two hours ago if I’d wanted it.” A red spot grew, the light of it briefly illuminating a face before Seven’s partner stepped into the glow of V’s headlights.  He regarded the two men with a look of annoyance and took another drag on his cigarette before dropping it and stamping it out with his toes.  “So, what are you digging up?”

“A person,” V stated.  “At least, we hope it’s a person still.”

“What happened here?  This is one hell of a mess.”

“It was an explosion.”  

Seven tried to signal V to stop talking but was ignored.

“We have reason to believe that someone is trapped under here, in a reinforced room.  We’re trying to get to them. Are you here to help or get in the way?”

Seven knew he should have been used to V’s way of telling just enough without tipping his hand to anyone, but it startled him to hear anyone speak to Vanderwood in such a challenging tone.

Vanderwood stepped forward, approaching the chunk of concrete that had halted their progress.  He looked around, evaluating the entire situation, noting the unstable piles of burned lumber and crumbling drywall around them.  “If you hadn’t snuck off, you’d have had the right tools for the job. Didn’t you learn anything from me, agent?”  

He spun on his heel, stalking back out into the darkness.  When he returned, he left one large bag next to V’s car, and the other he carried to where V and Seven continued digging at the edges of the slab.  

“Gotta crack it first, in pieces. We’ll have to take it out a little at a time or it’ll bring the rest of this shit show down on us.”  He mumbled as he pulled wires and a grey putty-like substance from his bag. “Gotta slice it up like a pie and figure out what’s underneath it.”  After a few minutes, he rose and said to Seven and V, “Get back.  Move that car back, too.  Give it an extra hundred feet.”

While they cleared the area, he set the explosives and ran the ignition wires back. Connecting them to a small detonator, he looked back and then hunched low to the ground before flipping the switch. The following series of explosions ran like a daisy chain from the edge of the concrete slab to the center. Smoke drifted through the air, but it didn’t look as if much had changed.

Seven approached the area, his eyes taking on a fresh light of hope as he saw row after row of deep cracks.  They could move some of these pieces!  They would get through!

Without waiting, he fell on the first crevasse, his fingers scrabbling at the rubble filling it, seeking a way to gain leverage.

Vanderwood groaned and waved for V to join him.  Between the three of them, they managed to finish separating the outermost segment and haul it aside.  They labored through the night, moving the heavy material as they were able, and Vanderwood setting small explosions to break up the pieces that were still too large.

Seven couldn’t recall his body being so tired or sore.  He was finally thankful for the training he’d received from the agency.  He knew he’d never have kept going without it.  His hands were torn and bleeding, as were his arms.  The usually bright gold rings on the shoulder of his hoodie had long since been lost to the black ash he’d been digging through with only one thought.   He’d given up seeing through his glasses, and was glad that he could see well enough to continue without them.  There was no keeping the lenses clear.

He noted that V was working just as hard, just as desperately.  His mentor’s face was pinched with apprehension and determination.  Never once had the photographer complained or stepped aside for a break, though his movements slowed as exhaustion crept through his body.  Seeing how hard he worked left Seven feeling slightly less angry about V’s actions leading to this moment.  It wasn’t as if V wasn’t responsible, but maybe Seven had misjudged his intentions.

Finally, they pried a large, triangular piece clear of the massive cement block and Seven shouted.  “There’s an opening!  It’s right here!  We found it!”

“Keep your mind on what you’re doing,” Vanderwood snapped breathlessly.   “Lift!”

The instant they had lowered the slab to the ground, Seven raced back, checking the opening he’d seen.  He shone his flashlight into the narrow opening.  “Stairs!” he called out.  “I see stairs!”

V raced to Seven’s side, peering into the hole.  “Yes, I see them too!  This has to be it!  There should be a door at the bottom, and the door just beyond that.  Are the walls around the stairs intact, can you see?”

Seven started to lean his head and shoulder into the opening, now out of his mind to get down the stairs.  Vanderwood yanked him back.

“You want to get your skull crushed?” the agent asked.  “Look,” he pointed.  “That entire mess is laying right over the stairwell.   If you move too much around, you’ll bring it all down on yourself.”

Chastised, Seven sat on his heels.  “We have to get down there,” he said helplessly.

“Yeah, I get that.  At least, I hope that’s why we’ve been working ourselves to death all night.” He knelt, leaning over to look down into the stairwell.  “This wall looks secure but I can’t see the far side.”  He frowned as he evaluated the rest of the chunk they’d been breaking down.  “This is too narrow for any of us.  We need to clear one more piece.”  His eyes narrowed and he drew lines in the air with his fingers before ordering, “Seven, get my bag. We’re going to set one more round.”

Using the shovel to gouge a small indentation into the cement, Vanderwood set a fresh explosive. When it went off, he’d cracked the block neatly to free a segment just large enough to allow them to step down onto the stairs.

V went first, testing the steps as he moved down into the darkness.  “The walls held,” he announced, relief carrying up to the others as he moved further in, allowing them to follow.

At the end of the stairwell, however, was another mess.  It seemed that several large pieces of flammable material had fallen into the stairs before they were covered.  V groaned and leaned against the wall.

“Got a bucket?” Vanderwood asked.

“No, I don’t.  I didn’t think we’d need one,” V said sorrowfully.  

Vanderwood shook his head.  “I’ll get one.”  He retreated back up the stairwell, returning a few minutes later with the shovels and the promised bucket. Passing the tools to V and Seven, he settled himself on the stairs and lit a cigarette.  “This is your rescue op.  You dig. I’m going to take a break.”

Seven couldn’t even find one of his usual quips to tease Vanderwood about getting old.  He slammed the blade of the shovel into the upper layers of the debris before him and began filling the bucket.

With V and Seven both digging, Vanderwood’s break was short lived.  He hauled each load to the surface, making countless trips and keeping light on the work until the doorway beyond could be seen.    

Seven turned to V, shaking his head.  The heavy, metal door lay partially open, twisted and scorched, half off its hinges.  The room beyond could barely be seen into.  Seven felt his heart might just lose the ability to break. The past few days had been such a rollercoaster of extreme emotions.  To have worked so hard, to have finally broken through, only to find…

He put his shoulder against the twisted metal hunk and pushed with all his weight.  Vanderwood joined him and together, they forced it open far enough to slip through.

Stumbling over a blackened board, Seven took the first steps, panning his light around the room.  “Come on,” he whispered.  “Be alive, be alive.”

V followed them into the room and the three men split up, searching the cavernous space.

“The hell was this, anyway?” Vanderwood asked, seeing the bank of monitors with their screens blown apart.

“A programming center,” V answered quickly, saving Seven from having to think of a plausible story.

“Programming center, huh?”  Vanderwood’s tone clarified that he didn’t believe V, but wasn’t going to ask again.

“Here!” V called, dropping his light and grasping at the edge of a tall set of shelves.  

Seven was at his side in a flash, grunting as they righted the shelves, revealing the form of a young man curled into a fetal position.  

A crimson long coat wrapped around the skinny, unmoving frame.  Tattered, lace trimmed sleeves hung limply from the sleeves, matching the white hair that lay in disarray over the pale face and closed eyes.  

“Is he…” Seven asked, suddenly immobilized.  

V knelt, searching the inside of Saeran’s wrist.  His expression began to fall but then he blinked suddenly.  “No, it’s faint, very faint, but he’s alive.  I have a pulse!”

Seven threw himself over his brother’s shoulder.  “Saeran, wake up Saeran.  Please, please, I need you to come home.”  Tears flooded over his face, washing away the accumulated filth of the night.  

“Who is it?” Vanderwood asked softly, kneeling beside V.

V considered his response before replying,  “It’s his twin.”

Vanderwood’s eyes widened in shock.  He watched Seven for a moment, processing this new information.  Sorrow filled his eyes briefly, replaced by fierceness.  He moved forward to take Saeran into his arms.

“No!” Seven shouted.  “No! Don’t touch him!  You can’t take him!”

“I’m going to take him to the surface so we can figure out how to help him. I brought my med kit.  Come on Seven, let me carry him for you.  We’ll make sure your brother lives.  We just need to get out of here first.”

Years of trusting one another won out over Seven’s fear that the agency would take Saeran away from him.  Vanderwood could be believed.  Vanderwood would help.  He’d come to help, not to stop them from saving Saeran.  Seven leaned back and watched as his partner lifted his brother’s limp body gently from the ground.

Saeran didn’t stir as he was carried out into the grey, pre-dawn light. He didn’t moan or make any noise as he was laid out on the grass beside V’s car.  His eyelids didn’t flicker as Vanderwood examined him.

V found a bottle of water and a clean cloth which he used to wipe Saeran’s face clear so they could check for injuries.

Vanderwood cut away the strange clothing, checking each bone for fractures, noting bruises and places where swelling had occurred.

Seven was completely undone.  Helplessly, he held Saeran’s hand, his thumb tracing a repetitive path over his brother’s knuckles.  When he saw the scars and deep gouges he wept wordlessly.  He searched the faces of V and Vanderwood, afraid to ask the question that would determine his fate.

“He’s dehydrated, badly, and his body is in terrible condition, but I think he’ll make it,” Vanderwood finally announced.  “I take it we can’t drop him off at a hospital?”

“No, we can’t,” V confirmed.

“I thought as much.”  He dug into his bag again, producing an IV bag, tubing, and a needle.  “First, hydration.”  He set up the drip, positioning the bag on top of the car to allow gravity to do its work and draw the fluids into Saeran’s bloodstream.  Once it was set, he pulled out a metallic square, unfolding it and laying it over the now naked man.  

He rose, lit a cigarette and leaned against V’s car.  “Seven,” he called.  When there was no response, he barked, with the tone of a drill sergeant, “Agent 707!”

Seven’s head shot up, tear-streaked and filthy, but with alert eyes.

“We need to talk.  I don’t want any bullshit, either.  I’ve gone and gotten myself into god knows what with you.  I want to know why and I want to know what the hell is happening. Since when did you have a brother?” His tone was neither cruel nor angry.  If any emotion could have been ascribed, it would have been worry for his partner.

Seven managed a half smile.  “Since a few minutes after I was born.”

V chuckled softly, and Vanderwood shot a scathing look at Seven before laughing.  

“Well, you’ll be alright then, if you’re back to being a smart ass.  Now,” he took a long drag on his cigarette.  “Now, fill me in.”

Seven and V recounted the story of how Seven had come to join the agency, V’s failed attempt to protect Saeran, and Rika’s descent into madness. Vanderwood asked only a few questions about Mint Eye and the RFA as the tale unfolded.

In the end, Vanderwood shook his head in disbelief.  “So we need to get this kid to someplace safe, then.”  He gave V a critical look.  “You sure you’re able to keep up your end of the deal again? If I let you take Saeran, you’ll keep him safe?”

“I’ll die trying,” V promised.  “I’ve been at fault for so much…”

“Yeah, yeah, all your fault.  I got that from the story.   Are you done wallowing in your self-pity, or are you going to fuck this up again?  I’m not letting you go anywhere with him if you’re not up to handling shit properly.”

V blinked as if he’d been slapped.  “I will… handle shit,” he said firmly.  “What will you do?”

“Seven, you’re coming back with me.  You have an assignment, and you’re going to finish it.”

Seven shot to his feet, ready to fight.  “No!  I’m not leaving his side!  I don’t care what you threaten…”

“Look here, you selfish brat!” Vanderwood shouted.  “I’ve put my neck out far enough for you lately!  If you don’t finish this job, they’ll be after me, too.  I’m not getting killed, got that?”  He folded his arms across his chest and took a breath.  “I’m not saying you can’t be with your brother.  I’m saying you need to think.  Finish the job.  They always give you time off after one this big.  Use the time and go be with him.  I’ll never tell a soul you have family. Maybe we can even find a way to get you out, but that won’t work right if you don’t finish your assignment.”

To V, he asked, “Do you have a safe location in mind?”

V nodded.  “I have an apartment in Chittagong.  I can take him there.  I just need to arrange transportation.”  He looked down at Saeran’s slack face.  “You’re sure he’ll survive?”

“Yeah, he needs rest and food.  Looks to me like he got knocked out and then that shelf trapped him.  His injuries are all minor.”  He nodded at Seven.  “Luck must be in their blood.  He should have been dead.  I think that slab falling put out whatever fire was going and kept out the rest of the mess.  The shelf falling on him wasn’t great, but it could have been much worse.”

“Good.  When we get back to an area with a stable signal, I’ll get Jumin to arrange a flight for us.”

“No, that won’t do.  There are enough people involved already.” Vanderwood pulled a phone from his pocket.  “You owe me for this, Seven,” he said as he made a call.

“Hey Geon… Yeah, it’s me… Look, you said if I ever needed anything…  Yeah, I need to ask if… Right… I need medical transport out of the country for two… Bangladesh… Chittagong… Today…  Oh, you know me, saving lives and protecting the defenseless… Yeah, I can do that… Thanks… See you then.”

He ended the call and frowned down at Saeran again.  “Alright, 1:30 this afternoon we have to meet a guy.  He’ll have a plane with a nurse ready to go. You’ll go with Saeran, V.  When they’re gone, you’re coming home and finishing your assignment, Seven.  You do that and I’ll buy your ticket out of here for you. Deal?”

Seven didn’t want to let V take Saeran anywhere without him, but seeing how far Vanderwood was going to help, his only response was to step over his brother’s legs and hug his partner tightly.  “Thank you, for this, for everything,” he choked.

Vanderwood shrugged Seven away.  “Yeah, whatever.  Just don’t you screw this up.”

They packed up the tools V had brought and Seven dug a clean change of clothing from his bag.  Between them, they dressed Saeran in more normal looking clothing and Vanderwood changed the IV bag.

Seven lifted his brother into the back seat of V’s car, amazed at how small his frame was.  We’ll get you well again, he promised silently. We’ll get you healthy and safe.  You’ll never suffer like this again.

That afternoon he watched as the small airplane lifted his brother and V off Korean soil, heading for the safety of V’s secret apartment.  His heart twisted mercilessly in his chest and waves of fear washed through his blood, making it feel as if he’d been dropped into an arctic zone with no coat.  He shivered, trying not to listen as his thoughts screamed that he’d never seen Saeran again.

When they returned to their home, Seven only took long enough to shower before returning to his computers.  He closed out the work he’d been doing instead of his assignment.  Revenge was less important now.  He needed to get to his brother.

For the first time since being assigned to Agent 707, Vanderwood didn’t have to harass him to get his work done.  In fact, he had to forcefully drag the young man away to eat and sleep.  The project that was to take a month was finished in a week, astounding Vanderwood.  He’d known the kid was good, but he had never seen anyone work like that before.  

True to his word, he bought Seven’s ticket as soon as the work was done.   What he didn’t tell him was that he wasn’t turning in the assignment early.  Their bosses didn’t need to know that Seven could work this fast.  They’d expect it every time, and Vanderwood didn’t think there would ever be anything to motivate him so fiercely again.  He dropped Seven at the airport and drove away, carrying secrets he wouldn’t reveal under torture.  “Good luck, kid,” he murmured as he watched the young man enter the terminal.

 (Chittagong)

 Seven pressed the buzzer outside the wrought iron gate.  His heart was racing, pounding loudly enough to hear its rhythmic thumping in his ears.  His brother was on the other side of this door, up one more flight of stairs. Finally, they’d be together again.

“Luciel?” V’s voice crackled from the speaker beside him.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Come on up.  Saeran is sleeping so come in quietly.”

The door buzzed and clicked and Seven was through it in a flash.  Even with his luggage, he vaulted up the stairs two at a time, turning at the second door on his left, as previously instructed. Before he could knock, the door opened and V greeted him with a warm hug.

“He’s alright?” Seven asked softly.

“Yes, much better.  He’s cleared his system of the elixir and his appetite is returning.   He still sleeps a lot, but he’s becoming more alert.”  V looked away nervously.  “Come in, please, and sit with me. I need to talk to you while he’s asleep.”

“What is it?” Seven asked, instantly on edge.

V gestured to the sitting area of the small apartment.  “First, sit.”

Seven felt his mouth go dry as he occupied the nearest chair.  “What’s wrong?”

“So, I didn’t lie.  Physically speaking, Saeran is doing better.  He is beginning to do better mentally as well, but you need to know a few things about that.”  He drew his fingers through his blue hair slowly, thinking out his next words. “First, Saeran blames you as much as me, for everything.  He was told that you abandoned him so many times that he believes it to be true.”

“But I didn’t!  I…”

“No, you didn’t, I know.  I’ve been working on getting that across to him.  He knows you’re coming today, but he’s not excited about it.  He has agreed to talk to you, but you need to be prepared for the anger he’s carried against you.  I can’t promise he’ll be ready for you to stay.”

Seven frowned deeply.  He wasn’t sure he could walk away from Saeran now, even at his request. “Alright,” he said aloud.  “What else?”

“There seems to have been some psychological damage,” V began hesitantly. “There’s a very angry, very aggressive alter ego that arises.  I have not yet been able to determine what triggers the emergence of this other persona, but if he appears, he may attack you.”  He tilted his head back, revealing a set of finger-print shaped bruises along his neck.  “He’s attacked me twice since we arrived here.”

Had Seven thought his heart broke so many times that night at Magenta that it couldn’t break anymore?  He had been wrong.  He knew that extreme, recurring trauma was required to cause a personality to splinter.  What hells had Saeran lived through that would leave him like that?  How could Rika have mistreated his gentle-hearted brother so?  For a moment he wished he’d followed through with his plans to make her pay.  

Shoving those thoughts aside, he focused on the fact that he was with his brother, far from Rika or the hellish life she’d condemned Saeran to.  They’d get through this together, the way they always should have.

A door opened behind him and Seven heard a soft voice call, “V?  I heard voices.  What’s…”

Seven rose and turned, looking into a face that mirrored his own in every way except for eyes that were now blue instead of gold.  White hair replaced red, and this man wore no glasses, but it was still him, still his brother.  Seven’s eyes misted over and he smiled hopefully.  

“Hello, Saeran.  Sorry I kept you waiting, but I’m here now.  How are you?”

#rescue #angst #707 #mysticmessenger 707 #mysme #mystic messenger #mysme 707 #mysticmessenger V #mysme v #Another Story #v's after ending #Vanderwood #mysticmessenger Vanderwood #mysme vanderwood #mysticmessenger saeran #mysme Saeran #Vandy is still a god #Choi reunion

[weelittleweasley]

Point of No Return | Sweet Pea x Reader

Prompt by anon and @serpentbitch​ : “This was never supposed to be this difficult” with the situation, that you believe Sweet Pea is cheating on you, so you break up with him. But when you get a little too tipsy at the bar and go home with a stranger, how will Pea react?

Request status: Open!

Warnings: mention of sex, underage drinking, profanity

A/N: This is a flash forward a little into the future. After high school :)

Staring at the ceiling of Sweet Pea’s trailer, you remain wide awake even though the alarm clock next to you blinked 2:23 AM. You pulled the covers higher over your bare chest, causing Pea to throw an arm over your waist lazily. But no matter what you told your body to do, you remained awake, your thoughts haunting you. The thoughts that danced in your mind made your stomach churn and your palms sweat. He couldn’t be cheating, could he? you thought. He couldn’t. He can’t. 

If Sweet Pea was cheating, that meant that the seven month relationship you had invested yourself in was for nothing. You two had given up so much to be with each other, and it would all be for nothing if he was cheating on you. You couldn’t wrap your head another the fact that he could be sleeping with another girl. When you got together, Sweet Pea told you that you were the only one for him. And now, seven months later, he was throwing that promise away?

This all came to your attention because of a series of events. It started off with Sweets becoming a little more distant; he talked less to you and he starting coming up with excuses to miss dates or leave early. You thought nothing of it because he had Serpent work. But then he started to become more secretive--he was texting on his phone more and he changed his password. The password was no longer the date of your anniversary. It was now a different combination of numbers to which you had no clue as it what it could be. But as you watched his phone light up, they were texts from a girl. Hanna. You don’t know a Hanna. There was no Hanna at Riverdale High when you attended. You didn’t know if it was an old classmate from South Side High. But what you did know was that he was acting suspicious and he was texting other girls. 

Time progressed and he became more detached with each week. Sweet kisses turned into quick pecks. Loving, passionate sex became needy fucks. Things were changing and that terrified you. And then, the deal was sealed. You were coming back to Pea’s trailer, and that’s when you entered panic mode. Toni was walking out of her trailer to greet a girl who knocked on her door. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun and she looked a little disheveled. Toni waved you over, introducing you to the girl. Her name was Hanna. Hanna pardoned her look with a quick, “I got held up at a friend’s place. You know, men. Just can’t get enough.”

That’s when your heart sank and your face turned white. Your relationship was past the point of no return. There was no going back from this. And now, you were here, after a night of a few shared sentences and a Sweet Pea who was insistent on sex with you. You agreed to it, too tired to put up a fight. The sex was bland--so much different from what it used to be. Things were different and you hated to think that you were losing the guy you loved. 

Continuing to stare at the gray ceiling, you let out a shaky breath. You knew that there was only one option now and you hated to admit it. It was something that you had feared, but it was all that was left.

The next morning, you woke up, strolling into his kitchen as he leaned against the sink, still shirtless from last night. “Good morning,” he grumbles as you wave a small smile. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, sipping from the freshly brewed beverage. “Good sleep?” he asks. You weren’t going to lie to him anymore. You shook your head no as he furrowed his brows. “Oh. Why?”

Sitting at the dining room table, you sigh, “Pea...do you realize this is the most we’ve talked in the past week?” Sweets doesn’t say much, he just averts his eyes and sighs lightly, knowing you’re right. “I can’t sleep anymore. And when I do, I wake up in a cold sweat. I have lost my appetite completely,” you vent quietly. “You’ve been acting differently.”

“Elaborate,” he speaks sitting next to you, placing his coffee on the table.

You lightly laugh and you can feel the lump lodging in your throat. “You don’t talk to me. You don’t wanna be around me anymore. You say three words, then we have sex, and then go to bed. Or you do. I just stare at the ceiling and think about how fucked this is,” you tell him, your voice cracking. You didn’t think that the tears would come this quickly, but a lot of things happen when we don’t expect it.

He shrugs, “I’ve been busy, Y/N. I can’t help that the Serpents need me.”

Widening your eyes, you turn to him. “You mean that even on the weekends, you don’t have time for me? Cause last time I checked, you were off from Serpent duties. You just lobbed on the couch watching tv and then going to the Wyrm to drink and play pool. I tried to talk to you. I tried to get things back to the way they were. But you didn’t do anything,” you jab at his chest with every word. “What is going on, Pea? I wanna know. The truth.”

You can see that Sweet Pea is conflicted. He wants to tell you something, but he’s holding back. He just rubs his face and lets out a shaky breath. “I just...” he starts. “Y/N, I don’t know. There has been a lot going on and I’m stressed.”

“And you don’t think I am, too?” you question him. “Sweets, I have never questioned our relationship once. I have never questioned...the faithfulness in the relationship once. Until now.”

Pea widens his eyes, “You think I’m cheating on you?” You shrug, not really knowing what to think at this point. “I never thought that you would be the one person who I have so much faith, trust, and love in...I never thought you would question me...”

You roll your eyes, standing up as you wipe away your tears. “Shit, Pea,” you let a small sob escape your lips. “I just want to know that you love me! I want to know that we are in this together and it’s just you and me!” you exclaim. “Tell me you can do that,” you beg.

Waiting for his response, Pea just twiddles his thumbs at the table. Silent. He has nothing to say. And silence speaks a million words.

“Oh my God,” you sigh, burying your face in your hands as the tears fall faster. “Okay,” you sniffle. “That’s what you want. Fine.” Pea looks at you from the table, knowing what you are gonna say next. “Obviously, you don’t need me anymore. So...I’ll leave.”

Expecting him to stand up and chase you to his room as you go to clean the drawer he had designated yours in his chest, but he stays put. You shove your things in your backpack, tears falling down in the process, as you tell yourself to be strong. When you finish, Pea is in the same spot you left him. Before you walk to the door, he stands, blocking your way. “You don’t have to leave,” he tells you. “We can still work things out.”

You shake your head. “No, we can’t. It’s apparent that you don’t trust me anymore and I don’t trust you,” you tell him, referring to the space between you two. “God,” you sniffle. “This wasn’t supposed to be this difficult,” you say under your breath.

Pea grabs your face in his hands, forcing your gaze to his. “What wasn’t supposed to be this difficult?” he asks.

Inhaling deeply, you then say, “Falling in love with someone I knew I could do it with.”

He then immediately presses his lips to yours, more forcefully than sweetly, trying to salvage whatever he has left with you. He tries to extract that from you, but he does so with no success. Pea tries to read your face after the kiss, but you still look so sad and it breaks his heart. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Goodbye, Sweet Pea,” you exit his trailer.

A whole day passes and you are still in your apartment, under the covers of your bed. Your roommate was out of town, so she wasn’t there to comfort you. Toni didn’t talk to you, probably taking Sweet Pea’s side on the break up. So, silently, you suffered the toll of the breakup. 

You stared at the ceiling, reflecting upon the day’s events and every time you think of Sweet Pea’s face, your heart breaks. You loved that boy with every fiber in your body, but the fact he couldn’t tell you anything drove you mad. It was going to happen, the breakup, it was just a matter of time. 

But there was a part of you knowing that you couldn’t lay here, mourning your dead relationship with Sweet Pea. You were going to have to move on. Determined, you pried yourself out from your covers and got dressed in that outfit you knew worked in your closet. You wore it when you and Sweet Pea met, and you knew that you got looks in this outfit. That short, black romper with the deep v. It was definitely an outfit for this occasion. You looked at yourself in the mirror, combing your fingers through your hair. “You can do this,” you encourage yourself. 

When you entered the bar, you headed to the bar immediately for a drink. A shot of tequila. Throwing it down the hatch, you cringe a little at the burn in your chest that trails down to your stomach. It warms you all the way up and you squeeze your eyes shut. You let the bartender pour you another shot as you down it as quickly as the other. 

It was a little awkward, going to the bar alone with your roommate, Chelsea, or Toni by your side. But if you were going to get over this and find yourself again, this was the only way through it. For the night, you drank tequila and danced to the heavy bass that blared through the sound system. From across the bar, you noticed a few guys giving you looks, but none stood out like Sweet Pea did that night when you met him. His dark eyes traced your body, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip hungrily. That night, Pea wanted you badly and you missed that feeling of being the source of someone’s desire. 

As the night continued, you took one last shot and looked around the bar. There was a guy who sat at the bar, sipping on a beer. He looked like he came alone like you and before you knew it, you sat next to him. “Hey,” you sat down.

The guy looks over, a little smile on his lips. “Hey,” he replies. He takes a moment to look at you, “I’m assuming you came alone also?” You shake your head with a light laugh. “I’ll drink to that,” he clinks his beer against your shot glass. “I’m Mike.”

“Y/N,” you greet. “Why did you come alone?” 

Mike looks a little uncomfortable before he speaks, “I actually just got out of a relationship. My boys have been taking me out almost every night, but I figured that I go out by myself tonight. Take some time to think, you know?”

You nod, “I’m with you.” He looks at you confused. “I just got out of a relationship also. Just yesterday.”

He winces, “I’m sorry...How long? If you don’t mind me asking?”

Giving him a smile to know it’s okay, you reply, “Seven months. You?”

Mike speaks, “Geez. That blows. Mine was about five.” You nod. “No matter how long though, the heartbreak still sucks.”

Laughing, you say, “True that.”

Your conversation with Mike continues and you learn a lot about each other within the almost hour you talk and drink together. He’s so sweet and chill and you feel so at ease with him. Mike was easy to talk to, not to mention absolutely adorable. And before you knew it, you were giggling as you fumbled with the keys to your apartment as Mike gave your playful kisses down your neck. It may have not been the best decision to make 24 hours after a break up, but it was what you needed in this moment. You needed to forget about Pea.

Grabbing a t-shirt from the floor, you hastily put in on your body as Mike washes up in the bathroom. Sleeping with Mike was a decision you made, obviously, and you weren’t upset about it or regret it. The sex was good--great actually. But you just felt so guilty even though you had nothing to feel guilty for. You and Pea were done. So, you should be fine? Right?

You walk into your kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water from the sink. As you sip, there is a small knock on your apartment door. You weren’t expecting anyone, but then you figured it was Chelsea coming back from her trip. “Chels, did you forget your key again?” you call from inside. “I told you the extra key is under the--”

“Under the mat,” the voice completes and it is attached to the person you didn’t expect. “I thought it was rude for me to intrude,” Sweet Pea tells you. As you look at him, you see his eyes are bloodshot as his face looks so tired. 

Your mind can’t put together what is happening. “Wh-what are you--why are you here?” you stumble across your words.

Sweet Pea closes the door and talks to you more, “I made a mistake. I didn’t tell you what was going on in my life and you deserve to know.” Your eyes widen and your heart races. “Y/N, I started acting weird because I was scared. We were moving so fast and I got scared and I thought pushing you away would make things better and I know that sounds dumb. But it’s because I lose sense of myself when I’m with you in the best way possible. Y/N, I miss you. I love you. I can’t sleep without you.”

Before you can open up your mouth to speak, Mike emerges from the bathroom in his boxers. “Y/N?” he calls before walking into the kitchen where you were with Pea. “Oh,” he looks at the tall Serpent in your kitchen. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Pea says. “You are?”

“Mike,” he says. “You?”

“Sweet Pea...Y/N’s ex,” he says as Mike’s eyes widen. Mike looks at you and you give him a look that is filled with a million sorries.

Mike shakes his head and then speaks, “I’ll show myself out. Have a nice night.” Mike quickly grabs his things and dresses before Pea can interrogate him about why he was in his underwear.

The door closes and the look of heartbreak slaps Pea in the face. “You slept with someone?” he sighs. You bury your face in your hands. “This is what you did to recoup?”

You tell him, “It’s not like that, Pea. I’ve never been one to cope well with these things and in the moment, I thought that this would be the best way to get over you.” Pea exhales heavily, throwing his hands on his head, walking around the living space. “Sweets, I thought you were cheating on me! I didn’t think that this would happen to us! You have to understand that!”

He shakes his head, “I know that! But Hanna was Toni’s cousin who was moving here. I was giving her tips on where to find a low rent apartment!”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” you yell at him, completely enraged now.

He just stumbles for words. “I was too scared to tell you!” You scoff at his ignorance. “I didn’t know how you would react to me talking like this to another girl! But I didn’t think that you would do this to me!” Your heart breaks at his words and you walk to him. 

“Pea, we are broken up. I slept with Mike after we broke up,” you tell him. “But you came to my apartment to do what? Shame me?”

Sweet Pea’s mouth falls open. “I came here to apologize! I came here to tell you that I still love you, just to find out that some other guy fucked you!” he yells. “I came here to ask for forgiveness.”

You walk away from him for a moment to collect yourself. This was all too much happening for your brain to comprehend. “Jesus Christ, Pea...” you trail off. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

The two of you stay silent for awhile, listening to each other’s breath and occasional deep breath. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I just wanna be happy with you,” he breathes. “I just wanna be happy together.”

Turning to look at him, you examine his face and his eyes are searching yours. He looks at you with so much love and your heart skips a beat at his glance. This boy was the one and there was no denying that. “That’s what I’ve always wanted,” you sigh. “I thought we could do that, but we keep secrets from each other. If we wanna be happy, we have to talk to each other.”

Pea walks to you, wrappings his arms around your waist. “If it means I get to be with you, I will do anything,” he pulls you close, speaking with such intensity. “I will do absolutely anything and everything for you.”

You cup his face with your hands, “I will do the same for you. Just promise me that you and I...we are in this together.”

He shakes his head, “Yes. One hundred times yes.”

“Good,” you sigh before kissing his nose. “Good.”

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x reader au #sweet pea au #sweet pea serpent #sweet pea serpent imagine #sweet pea angst #sweet pea angst fic #southside serpents #southside serpents imagine #riverdale #riverdale imagines #riverdale au #riverdale cast

[startswithhope]

loud and clear...

Working through my creative block by writing some fix-it fics for things that bugged me in 6B. This is set right after Killian’s conversation with Nemo on the docks after the first proposal. I also pulled two of my kiss prompts into this “surprise kiss” and “I’m sorry kiss”. 

“Seek forgiveness. Because whatever happened, it will always stay with you.”

Nemo’s words churn wildly in his gut long after he’s gone, the man’s friendly advice, while what he knows he needed to hear, putting voice to the only choice he has left. He’s been through too much with Emma to hide from her. She deserves to hear the truth, her entire family does.

Lifting his flask to his lips he takes another long drag of the strong rum, remembering when it had once given him solace, or at least an escape. Now, it just tastes like his past. A past he’s worked hard to forgive himself for.

“There you are.”

Startled by Emma’s voice, fingers numb from the cold lose grip on the flask and it clatters to the wood of the dock at his feet. His reflexes are a bit dulled by the alcohol and she’s moved to pick it up before he’s even thought about bending to retrieve it. Her eyebrows narrow as she obviously notes how empty it is, but she still smiles before taking a sip of her own. Cold muscles beneath his skin tighten slightly at the sight of her as thoughts of Neverland and tasting the same rum on her lips for the first time come rushing back.

When she steps forward to place her free hand on his chest and press her lips softly against his, he’s all at once reminded of how far they’ve come. He feels like a thief in the night when he leans in for more, his hand at her back stealing her warmth and grasping for her love before it’s potentially ripped away.

“Sorry, didn’t meant to startle you,” she whispers, her breath warm against his numb lips.

“Happy surprise, love.” He nuzzles her nose with his in hopes of selling the half truth, despite knowing he won’t be leaving these docks without relieving himself from this guilt that’s threatening to devour everything he holds dear.

Her hands are warm as she burrows them around his back beneath his jacket, but the green of her eyes look a bit icey as she pulls back from his lips to lock him in her gaze.

“So, wanna tell me why you’re hiding out here all by yourself? I knew something was wrong when you didn’t want to come to the loft and now I find you half drunk and freezing your ass off.”

This is it. Taking a deep breath he drops his eyes from hers, focusing on the tiny cleft of her chin as he tries to organize his thoughts and fears into words.

“Killian, you can tell me anything, you know that right?”

He finds her eyes again and sees the truth in her declaration, a truth he’s been afraid to trust in the face of his regret.

“Aye, Swan, I do.”

So, he does. He tells her everything, his story somewhat disjointed as he rambles from past to present and back again. She reacts in small ways, her teeth chewing lightly at the inside of her bottom lip, her brows furrowing or lifting depending on the part of his tale. When he can think of nothing else to say he breathes out an apology, just short of begging her for forgiveness for all that he’s done.

Her gloved hands, having fallen from his back to wrap protectively around her own waist lift to press her palms over her face as her breath comes out in measured exhales of mist. The wait for a response from her feels endless, but he’s learned to give her time. He’ll give her forever if that means she’s not walking away.

“You tried to tell me this earlier, didn’t you?” Her words are muffled as she talks through her hands, but he hears the regret in her voice nonetheless.

“Aye.”

He watches as she lowers her hands in front of her, fingers toying with the ring on her finger through the leather as she looks up at him with sad eyes. It’s more than he can take and he moves forward, clutching both of her hands with his one cold one as tight as he can muster.

“Emma, I had every intention of proposing to you…”

“Just not yet.” Her voice is wavering and he can see the tears threatening to fall from her eyes and he’s helpless at how to stop them. All he can do is be truthful and hope that they can get through this, together.

“I had come home prepared to tell you all of this. But faced with you finding the ring and how happy and hopeful you were, I couldn’t take that away from you, love. I couldn’t take it away from me either, because marrying you, becoming your husband, it’s something I desire so deeply that even faced with lying to you I couldn’t walk away from the possibility of it.”

Tears are flowing freely down her cheeks now and he doesn’t know if it’s the right thing, but she doesn’t pull away when he urges her into a hug. Instead, her arms clutch at him almost desperately as she tucks her wet cheek into his throat, her ragged breaths puffing against his skin. His heart is breaking at the pain he’s caused her, wishing they could go back in time to some point where he could fix this and take it all away.

“I’m so sorry, Emma.”

“So am I,” she whispers, so quietly that he barely hears the words.

“You have nothing to apologize for, love.”

His eyes shutter closed as her lips press a soft kiss into his neck, the sweet gesture so unexpected that it takes him a moment to realize she’s lifted her head and is now staring up at him.

“I do though. When I found the ring, I should have left it there. I should have noticed how upset you were when you got home...”

Unwilling to let her take any more of the blame for the situation they’ve found themselves in, he cuts her off with something he knows to be true. “And I should have told you before I proposed.”

“Yeah, that’s true. God, how did things get so tangled up?”

Her exasperation is punctuated by her forehead coming to rest against his, her hands sliding up his back so she can wrap her fingers around his neck.

“Fear, I suppose. Even with all we’ve been through together, I think you and I will always be fearful of losing one another. It’s happened far too many times, love, to pretend that the possibility does not exist.”

He feels her nod in agreement with their heads pressed so close and a bit of the tension loosens in his gut. Her love for him doesn’t appear to be shaken by his confession and he feels somewhat foolish for ever doubting it to begin with.

Shifting his head slightly, he finds her lips for a lingering kiss, tasting the salty remnants of her tears at the corner of her mouth.

“I love you,” he whispers, “and I’m sorry for being afraid to tell you the truth.”

She responds with a kiss, her lips warm and open as she draws him in deeper, forgiveness evident in how her body melts into his from head to toe. Snow crunches beneath their boots as they shuffle backwards, his back cold against the wood as he pulls her in tighter against his chest. It’s not the ideal location for such a passionate embrace, but as her tongue slides against his he stops overthinking and lets himself get lost in her taste, her touch, the warmth building everywhere they are pressed together. Relief as much as passion seems to be flowing between them, relief that they will be okay, that they are okay. It’s only as his body has begun to ache for more does he slow things down, nipping lightly at her bottom lip and across her cheek so he can press his nose against her temple and take a deep, steadying breath.

“Will you marry me, Emma?”

He’s almost surprised at his own question, but doesn’t regret it, knowing he needed to ask her this again with no secrets left between them.

Leaning back, Emma cups his cheeks with her gloved hands and curls her lips up into a brilliant smile.

“My answer is still yes and will remain yes no matter what, you hear me?”

“Aye, love, loud and clear.”

He kisses her again, their smiles so wide it’s a bit clumsy, but they just laugh and kiss some more. It’s closer to the moment he’d hoped for and in some ways, probably better. The more challenges they seem to face the closer it brings them, which considering the pattern of their lives, is probably a good thing.

As they are walking hand in hand back towards home he has a bit of a sobering realization and stops in his tracks.

“Swan, I’m afraid the blessing your father bestowed on our union may be rescinded when he finds out what I’ve done.”

She merely tugs on his hand to get him to start walking again, her fingers squeezing his a bit tighter as she gives him a soft smile.

“Killian, you need to learn to have more faith in the people who love you. David will forgive you. I have no doubt.”

Stunned, he shakes his head and tries to laugh through his disbelief. “Love, why on earth do you think your father loves me?”

“Oh please, the bromance is strong between you two.”

Confusion has his eyebrow lifting high, but he continues to trudge along with her until they reach the steps leading up to their porch. He hates not understanding the modern lingo that falls out of her and Henry’s mouths all day and has given up on asking them to explain the majority of the time. But this one feels somewhat important, considering it has to do with David. He’ll do anything to keep his relationship with Emma’s father intact.

“What the bloody hell is a bromance?”

Emma laughs and tugs him close by his lapels, dropping a quick kiss to his cheekbone before leaning back with a smile.

“It just means that you and my dad are friends, close friends who care about one another and enjoy spending time together. He wouldn’t have gotten to this point with you if he hasn’t already forgiven you for your past, Killian. Give him a chance to prove it.”

Killian can feel his heart begin to race with anticipation over the conversation he needs to have with David. He’s on the verge of asking Emma to allow him to go speak with him now when she gives him a playful shove.

“Go, call me if you need me.”

“Thanks, Swan, I’ll be back soon, hopefully…”

He’s halfway to the loft when his phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s a text from Emma.

After you two kiss and make up, tell him to send you home so we can celebrate our engagement...privately

He nearly trips over his own foot in his haste to turn around and head back to their house, but another text comes through almost immediately.

Say hi to my Dad ;)

That bloody minx….

A/N: I realize this erases Killian getting to Neverland and retrieving the random bit of the wand they needed for whatever, but let’s pretend that some other magical MacGuffin gets him there instead, okay?

#cs ff #captain swan #canon divergence #fix it fic #my writing #loud and clear #sorry this is kinda rusty #I'm trying to find my creative space with the changes ahead