#i knew i should of saved that set but i didn't think they would appear again lol

[meshlasolus]

Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: Listen… I don’t have any excuse for ditching my other three active series except for tiktok made me do it… That, and the CLM series by @macfrog has ascended me to a new level of crazy and I just needed an outlet for it somewhere. Another shoutout to @theatrelove3000 who keeps putting up with my dbf joel shenanigans, they are indeed insane.

Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, light smut, uncomfortable situations with readers father… probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am

Please be kind to this chapter, I actually like it, despite the horrors.

Decided on the song ‘Mary On A Cross‘ by Ghost for this one bc it fits ig.

MASTERLIST

Age gap is approximately 15 years or so, reader is over 21 and joel is about 37

"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

It had been almost three days.

You looked out the window to the front of your house repeatedly to try and remember it clearly. The drive home, the kiss, and how abruptly it ended with a promise to see each other around. You thought about it so often you almost wondered if it happened the way you perceived it, if any details had been skewed in your mind simply because you wanted to keep it there, fresh, untouched. Maybe he thought of it differently... but maybe he didn't.

"Did you bring home the stuff I asked ya?" Your dad came into the kitchen with a smile, embracing you with a side hug and turning to help you unpack the groceries.

"Course' I did, Pa," you handed him the bag with the six-pack of bud and the other one full of snacks.

It was the first Rangers game night, and as per tradition, that meant the company of the next-door neighbors. It had been a while since you'd been around to enjoy it, but now that you were back, there were quite a few more reasons why you were on edge to now participate. It would look weird if you came up with an excuse not to be there, and you knew that. You also knrw that you'd gotten into a rather complicated entanglement with your father's closest friend, and weren't sure what the outcome really was.

Had that driveway light not spooked you both apart, and had that little black stray cat not made an appearance, how far would it have gone? Things were pretty heated, but even still. Would he have said something? Maybe along the lines of 'I've known you since you were sixteen, and this isn't appropriate at all.'

You didn't have time to think about it, you were set to work on helping your dad cook dinner for the soon-arriving neighbors. Dinner and a baseball game, once a relaxing and enjoyable time to bond with your dad, now turned into an anxiety fest where you were convinced you'd have to walk on pins and needles around every topic.

"So," your dad piped up from his silence at the stove, stirring the pot of chili he'd been prepping. "Joel told me he gave you a ride 'few nights back."

You knew it was harmless, and that he wasn't asking for any reason, other than that he was probably curious. You hadn't seen Joel in a while, not since two Christmases ago. Your dad had driven up to Dallas to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas with you last year, and you didn't come home for summer break given an internship opportunity. You must have seemed different to the man in some way. All grown up.

"Yeah, gave me a ride n' saved me at the bar," you chuckled, trying to seem playful and unsuspicious about the encounter.

He seemed to be confused, his brows furrowed and a funny look on his face.

"Whad'ya mean he saved ya?" he of course was continuing to speak all the while dumping his favorite spices into the pot of chili, looking across here and now to keep engaged.

"Just scared off some weirdo who couldn't take no for an answer," you let a sweet and genuine smile fall across your features, but didn't let it get out of hand. Your relationship with your father was airtight, and he could read you pretty damn well. You weren't going to give anything away, not with what was potentially on the line.

"Glad he was there," he replied with a chuckle, sending you a soft glance. "Never thought you'd have grown up so fast, now I gotta carry a shotgun whenever we go places. Fend off the wild beasts."

His jokes were only so funny now, because in this situation, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Joel if he found out what had happened. All in the nature of protecting you, but it made you sad to think of the situation that way. Joel wasn't just another weirdo following you around at a bar.

"It's only because I'm so pretty," you did your best to respond lightheartedly, making a quip that would soothe the silence. "And I believe that's yours and Mama's fault, givin' me the genes and what not."

You'd finished chopping a nice garden salad by the time the doorbell rang. You ran upstairs to change your shirt to the Jersey your dad bought you for your birthday, claiming it was good luck for the team. Truth be told, you didn't wanna be downstairs when Joel and Sarah got here.

Sarah was here, too. Her, you could easily handle. You were almost hoping that she would be in a rather talkative mood, that way the attention could be swayed to her inconspicuously. You doubted Joel would even try to talk to you, anyway.

"Lovebug, come on down, Millers are here!" Your dad shouted up, even though he saw you run upstairs right when the doorbell rang to change your shirt.

"I'm comin', hold on," you replied sassily while heading for the staircase.

You got to the bottom and had to take a breath before turning the corner into the entryway. Joel stood there with a sweet smile to you, and you tried your best to hold back the one you wore. It was too bright, too happy to see him. All despite your nerves.

You were quickly embraced by Sarah, whom you paid immediate attention to.

"My lordy, girl," you held up your hand by your shoulder to show the height difference, "last time I saw you, you must've been this tall."

"Dad tells me I'm growing like a weed," she tossed a finger over her shoulder to where he was standing, and you gave him a small glance and a smile.

"Us daughters do have a tendency to grow up," you laughed, slinging an arm around Sarah and pulling her along to the kitchen as your dad and Joel did the same behind you.

Why had you been so anxious? Joel is happy to see you. He makes causal conversation with your dad, but he catches your eye every chance he gets. His expression doesn't change, except for the tug of his lips in a smile that's barely there. Joel doesn't smile too often, except apparently when you and Sarah are around.

It doesn't take long for everyone to get situated with their food at the table, playful banter between Joel and your father filling the air as you made less rambunctious chatter with Sarah.

She's doing pretty well since last you saw her. She was always a bright girl, but as she grew it became more apparent that she would probably excel further than anyone in her graduating class. You were sitting across from a future valedictorian, you were sure.

You'd tried to ask her about her out of school interests before your dad interrupted with a question.

"How about you, lovebug?" He watched your eyes flick over to him with a turn of your head. He added context, given you hadn't been listening to them earlier. "Are you gonna look for a summer job?"

You really should, if you're being honest. There's not much work in your aspiring profession located here, but you weren't as lucrative as you used to be, given your educational expenses.

"I've thought about it," you tilted your head back and forth, and your dad seemed to need more from your answer. "I need to earn some cash before I get back to Dallas, but I'm not really sure where to apply."

Sarah seemed to know where this was going before you did. She'd been around the last time your dad was begging Joel to find some help for the contracting team they worked with. But surely your dad doesn't expect you to build houses, does he? Your dream job is to dig holes in the ground, not fill them in and put homes on top.

"We got some spaces to fill, you should come work with us 'few months. The pay's good and you don't have to stay on long, probably just till the end of July."

You gave him a look, and he instantly knew you weren't interested, but you figured you'd try and justify your reasoning. It was an argument either way.

"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

Did he just-?

"S'not much more fun than what your dad's been doin,' but at least it's out of the sun, and easier to learn."

You were almost dumbfounded. Your dad offering you a job that potentially could give you heat stroke with your lack of experience seemed like the worst idea in the world... but working on interior projects? With Joel of all people? Well, that didn't sound so bad.

You didn't want your dad to catch on, of course. Being so protestant of his suggestion, but then falling right into it as soon as Joel was the one to offer would be a dead giveaway to some sort of favoritism to his best buddy. It simply wouldn't look right.

"What kinda interior stuff?"

He smirked. The motherfucker was smirking. He knew you'd changed your mind, but couldn't exactly just come out with it. He understood, but it was still slightly amusing to him.

"Flooring, cabinets, countertops... 's things like that," he explained, knowing you really didn't care what all it entailed. He was still happy to play along. "S'not as fun as archeology, but it pays alright."

You nodded, acting as though you were turning the thoughts over in your head.

"Well, if you're sure I won't mess it up, I'd be happy to try it out," was your final response. You figured it left some leeway in case your father became suspicious, but gave a good enough answer to end the conversation on.

"That's my girl," your dad clapped a hand on your shoulder in excitement. Truth be told he would very much enjoy your presence on a work site. "I'll go ahead and call Eddie in the morning, let 'im know I found someone to replace Charlie for interiors."

It was said more to Joel, you figured, because you didn't really know who either of those people were. He'd nodded to your dad, taking a sip of his beer and then looking back to you. You smiled sweetly, nobody catching it but the one it was meant for.

"Game's gonna start soon," Joel spoke aloud, drawing everyone's eye to the clock over the stove.

Sarah cleared her throat before jumping in on the conversation.

"About that," she looked to her dad with the same puppy dog eyes she used to use against you. He was just as poor at saying no to her when she pulled those bad boys out. "Sammy texted me to ask if it's okay to stay over at her place tonight?"

Joel sighed. He knew that no matter the attempts he made for her to like baseball, it wasn't her thing. It was summer vacation, and he had no reason to say no, so he didn't.

"Is she coming to pick you up?" He began, fishing his keys out of his pocket to drive her if need be. The girl lived five minutes away, he'd be back only a few minutes after the game started, but he didn't really want to leave.

"I can ask her," she pulled her phone back out of her jeans, opened her screen, and checked her messages.

"No need, I can take you," your voice rang out, standing from the table and taking your bowl to the sink. It was a genuine offer, but it was also to get out of the house and process what just happened with the job situation.

Joel was the first one to stand up with you.

"You don't have to-"

"It's fine," you cut him off, leaving no room for discussion. It was lucky he liked you, otherwise, Joel Miller might have put up quite the argument for such a small dilemma. As was his way, of course. He huffed, but accepted he had been overruled.

"Thanks, then." It was mumbled, but there was gratitude in it.

"We gotta hop over to ours real quick and grab my stuff," Sarah told you, waiting for you to return from the kitchen before beginning to head out through the front door. You'd grabbed your keys off where they hung on the wall before going behind her.

"I'll be back soon," you called over your shoulder into the house, and got a chirped 'alright' reply from your dad.

You walked out passed your driveway, seeing the light flicker on as you both went passed the censor on the ground.

"Y'know, I didn't think you'd have caved so fast on that job thing." She had piped up once you were almost to her porch. You found it only slightly funny that she chose the exact topic which had been swirling in your mind since it happened.

"Not sure I really wanna do it, but your dad made it sound better than every time my dad's talked about it, guess he just convinced me," you chuckled, playing it off in a way that she absolutely was about to use against you.

"That's another thing," she turned to you as she backed into the house through the door, only turning once she was inside. "Since when are you friends with my dad?"

She said it in a joking tone, but having known a few things she didn't about interactions that occurred between you and her father, you felt constricted to answer seriously. Probably with a lie if need be.

"I've always gotten along with your dad," you gave her a confused look, accompanied after by a playful smile.

She grabbed her backpack and opened it, checking to make sure she'd taken all the school stuff out before starting to shove things in, her charger, headphones, etc.

"Yeah but... you're just all young and cool and stuff," she shrugged, turning around to walk towards the staircase. "My dad is all old and boring and only talks about baseball."

"Thirty-seven isn't old, babe. My dad is two years from fifty, and I don't even think he's old, yet. Boring? Maybe..." you reasoned, hearing her laugh before she sprinted up the stairs, giving you time to think of some answers before she asked any more questions. Had she really caught onto you that fast? You didn't think you'd acted noticeably. If Sarah was able to see it, then maybe your dad did, too. You needed to be more careful, in that case.

Sarah returned a few minutes later, her backpack now stuffed and her pillow under her arm. You nodded out the door and headed back to your driveway to open the door for her, seeing as though her hands were full.

-

The drive after Sarah had been dropped off felt so much longer. Maybe it was just your thoughts, or maybe you consciously drove slower to avoid getting home too quickly. Your dad was waiting, but above that, Joel was there, too. Probably sitting back on the leather couch, relaxing with his feet kicked out on the floor. He usually leaned onto the armrest with his elbow, and held his face against the hand it supported. You'd noticed it years ago. He only ever spoke up when your dad did, usually in reply to him.

He was content simply watching the game in the presence of a friend. It was endearing.

When you pulled into the driveway, you had come up with an excuse to not remain downstairs for the duration of the game. It was too risky, and you weren't apparently as good with self-control as you'd thought you were.

You went inside and hung up your keys on the hook, immediately passing the living room on the way to the stairs.

"Hey, lovebug, you missed the top of the first," your dad called. He knew you liked baseball, so if you were to lie and say you didn't want to watch, he'd know something was up.

"Y'know, pa, I think I'm just gonna watch it upstairs, I forgot I still got some stuff to unpack," you peaked your head into the room to respond, and saw that Joel, just as you had pictured, was sitting in his most usual position on the couch, feet out on the floor, arm up with a hand holding the side of his face.

"Can't you do it later?" Your dad pleaded, but you knew, seeing as how your father occupied the recliner, you would have no where else to sit but on the floor or next to Joel. You didn't trust yourself with that.

"I could, but I might fall asleep if I wait too long."

He sighed, throwing an arm in your direction and shooing you away. He wasn't annoyed, but he'd admit he missed watching these games with you. It had been like a tradition, but if Sarah wasn't here either, he wasn't gonna make you stick around.

"Sure you don't wanna stick around? We could use your lucky jersey down here," Joel piped up, lifting his face from his hand and giving you a pair of soft eyes. That was exactly the reason you would not be staying. He didn't even realize how much he affected you, but you'd make sure he did at some point. Maybe you could just tease him a little.

"You're right, it would be a shame to take the lucky jersey with me."

You walked behind your dad's chair, out of his sight, and tauntingly stripped the jersey over your head, revealing the tight black tank top beneath it, just like that night at the bar. Joel's jaw clenched and his eyes turned darker, even under the bright light of the flatscreen in the living room. You never took your eyes away from his as you slung him the jersey.

"Hey pa, can I get you anything from the kitchen before I go upstairs?" You leaned over the back of his recliner, looking at him upside down. He chuckled and shook his head, trying to move your hair from obstructing his vision.

"We're all good, lovebug," he spoke in addition to his physical response, his laughter dying down as you stood back up. "Come on down if you change your mind."

"I'll probably be down later," you spewed a half-lie. You weren't sure if you would be or not, especially if Joel was still lurking in the living room.

You gave those brown eyes one last look before heading straight upstairs.

You grabbed your remote and flicked on the TV. It was already on the right channel, so you tossed the remote aside onto your bed and flopped back into it. You didn’t actually have anything left to unpack, but they would never have known.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you lifted the screen to your face to see a text from an unsaved number:

Missin you down here…

You’d never put Joel in your contacts, because in highschool, your friends thought it was weird to even text or call him regularly, but you had his number for years, always just as a backup. You’d known it by heart, now, and nearly had it memorized back then, too, for the times you needed his help.

I’d come back if there was an open seat.

A bit sassy of a response, maybe, but you were hoping he’d understand the hidden meaning behind it… Although, Joel didn’t usually pick up on those things very easily.

Open seat right next to me

Yeah, that’s why I’m up here…

You huffed, realizing it wouldn’t be that easy. The three little dots indicating his next response was on the way slightly nerved you. Maybe he took the last text you sent the wrong way. You didn’t mean it to sound badly.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Means that I can’t keep my hands to myself.

You quickly rectified the situation, although you might have gone too far. He was taking far too long to answer, now. The little dots that before nerved you would now be your saving grace if it meant he would just fucking respond, already. You dropped the phone on your chest, raising up and down in a scattered rhythm while you wiped your hands over your face. Your phone vibrated over your shirt and you immediately opened it.

I can’t either. Stay up there.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. He was thinking the same things you were, and likely was under more stress for it, given he sat right across from your dad, responding to his comments about the game here and there. Your dad had no idea what was happening right under his nose.

Wasn’t thinking about leavin.

This little back and forth went on, the majority of the game, in fact. It was more-so about the plays then on, because you didn’t have anyone to talk to up here.

Joel thought it a bit funny, your dad would say something oddly specific about one of the players, and then you’d text him right after saying the exact same thing. You’d been a product of watching baseball with your old man for just about ever.

“I’m thinking about gettin’ some tickets over the summer for a game or two. They’re always cheaper in them group packages, you n’ Sarah should come along,” your dad was barely paying any attention to the words he spoke, but they came flowing out anyway, clear and cool. “Could be fun.”

Joel knew that there was only so much group interaction he could handle with you, and you with him. It stands to why you’re upstairs, an he’s down here, fist wrapped tightly around your lucky jersey. All out of your father’s sight, of course.

“It could be. Don’t think Sarah’s much for baseball anymore, though.”

He’d hoped that your dad would drop it. Halfway through his third beer, he hoped the man was a little more than tipsy, and maybe didn’t even mean the words he was saying.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t still tag along,” your dad was definitely still sober enough to keep it up, although the way he spoke became slower. Maybe he was getting sleepy.

“I’ll think about it.”

His response was followed by a hum, then a lull of silence that endured the rest of the game. He sat all the while and thought about his predicament a bit more.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was insane… like you’d leeched yourself to the inner workings of his mind and he wouldn’t be able to pull you off without hurting himself, too. You were just upstairs, and had been texting him. You were within his vicinity, and yet… so unreachable.

He’d wished for you to be down here, or for him to be up there with you. Obviously, that wouldn’t go too well with the man sitting next to him, but he’d be asleep soon. If he could just touch you again, just kiss you one more time, maybe his cravings would be satisfied and he could go about his days… but what would happen if he kept feeling the addictive urge to do more? What if he was never satiated enough to quit you?

The game was called, and you’d texted him a small ‘victory’ at seeing the Rangers had won.

It was wrong, and the presence of his friend beside him was a constant reminder that you were his kid, and he would have a final say. Even though you were an adult, he understood this was completely taboo, and you should be off with guys your own age... but he’s made up his mind about the thoughts spinning in his head.

He didn’t respond, though. Your dad stood up out of his chair, his arms stretching outwards with a loud yawn as he took a few steps forwards, clapping his hand down on Joel’s shoulder.

“I hate to kick you out…” your father joked, a low and tired chuckle under his words.

“It’s alright, I got some stuff to sort out anyway.”

They started making their way towards the door when light but fast footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.

Joel turned quickly, a smile on his lips and in his eyes when he saw you trying to catch your breath after sprinting down here.

“Leavin’ already?”

They both laughed heartily. As if Joel hadn’t been here almost three hours, most of which you spent upstairs. Your heart was beating far too fast for your liking, but there didn’t seem to be a way to stop it. Now that you were present again, in the room with him, you didn’t know what else to do.

“Your dad’s half asleep as it is, if I stay any longer I’ll send ‘im into hibernation,” Joel’s response made you giggle softly, although you withheld most of the laughter, because in all honestly, it wasn’t that funny, and you needed to learn to control yourself.

“He’ll be over next week, we’ll talk about gettin’ you into that job.”

You nodded, turning back to Joel as your dad opened the front door. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t hug him, could you? That’s too much… maybe just wave, or maybe-

He held his hand out… for you to shake it. A hand-shake. Yeah, sure, fine.

You shook it, but he pulled you in half way, tapping your back once and then letting go.

He just bro hugged you. This man just-

He turned and did the same to your dad, giving you one last glimpse as he stepped out the door. Your dad closed it behind him and you were almost clean out of words to say. That had to have been the strangest interaction you’ve had.

“I’m beat, love-bug. I’m gonna head to bed,” he slung an arm around your neck and kissed the top of your head before turning and going down the hall to the stairs. “Don’t be up too late.”

“I won’t, just got a few things to do.”

You waited approximately ten more seconds before running to the garage door, going as quickly and as quietly as you could through to your front yard. Joel was still on his porch when you got out there, but was about to go inside.

You ran out to the sidewalk in font of his house and called out to him, all the while still barefoot.

“Hey Miller,” you crossed your arms, watching him turn around and lean in one direction. “Did you just bro-hug me? Or did I imagine that?”

He stepped closer to the edge of the porch, leaning against one of the wooden beams closest to him.

You slowly walked up to him, tilting your head to side as you observed his stance. he looked rather good. Hair tousled, body adorning a black t-shirt and some dark jeans. He was a sight, even in the dark light of the neighborhood.

“I reckon I oughta’ try again?”

"Seems like the fair thing to do."

“You’re takin’ your sweet time, baby,” he irked, grabbing gently under your elbow and pulling you up onto to porch once you were close enough.

You smiled to him, and wrapped your arms round his neck, over his broad shoulders. He pulled you close, tucking a head into your shoulder. The anxiousness you felt before fell apart, the rapid beating of your heart slowed, because you were comfortable. You felt immense peace in his arms like you’ve never felt before.

He backed away too soon, but still kept you relatively close to him.

“Was that better?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, but it wasn’t stiff, and it wasn’t awkward. It was just there, a nice and pleasant quiet, and you standing still with Joel Miller on his porch.

“You wanna come inside a while?”

Sarah wasn’t home, and wouldn’t be till morning. Your dad was probably passed out in bed by now, leaving the opportunity completely open. You had nothing to lose, no risk to be had.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

He didn’t let you go, he just walked you both backwards until he was able to reach the door, reaching with one hand to open it before stepping slightly to the side to allow you entrance first.

“Ever the gentlemen,” you smiled, walking inside before he followed you in.

“Gotta make up for all that nonsense earlier,” he closed the door, taking your hand and walking to the kitchen. He pulled out a stool at his counter and let your hand fall to your side as he made his way to the fridge.

He pulled out two beers and uncapped them with the tool hanging on the side of his fridge. You think you remember your dad buying it for his birthday one year. You can remember sitting in this exact seat many times before, actually. Never alone, though. Never just you and Joel, and nobody else near.

He slid you one beer an you smiled at him in thanks, taking a sip.

“Last time you had one of these, I didn’t know if you liked it or not,” he gestured to his own bottle, drinking some and setting it down on the counter.

“I don’t know, I think it’s growing on me.”

He looked straight to you, leaning both hands on the edge of the counter. You leaned forward, mimicking his more stern face of features before he said anything else.

“I didn’t wanna say so with your dad around, but you look awful pretty tonight,” he spoke the compliment smoothly, but he had to drop his head after he said it. Seemed that giving you compliments alone in the night was something of a struggle for him, since he was blushing still even when he looked back to you.

“I seem to be feelin’ a lot prettier as of late whenever I’m around you. Think you’re just good for my self esteem,” you paused, leaning back onto the stool to take a drink of your beer. “That, or it's just nice to be complimented by a handsome guy like yourself.”

He didn’t seem to believe you. His scoff was loud and heard immediately after your compliment returned to him.

“You think I’m handsome?”

He’d always thought he was average. Maybe even slightly below. As he got older, that notion grew until he felt that maybe he was beyond trying for a woman on behalf of his looks. Perhaps there were women from time to time that would agree to a date, but there were none since Sarah’s mom who actually stuck around, not until you… but you were different as far as relationships go, because technically, you shouldn’t even be considering one with him.

“Absolutely, I do. Why wouldn’t I?” You were curious, because he was clearly attractive. Maybe you’d spent too much time around the more traditionally preferred young men in dallas, but something about Joel intrigued you that never did with anyone else. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of what you two were doing, but before that, it was something else. He was rough and rugged, and good looking in a mature way that the boys your age couldn’t mimic if they tried. Those dark brown eyes with little crows feet at the edges every time he smiled were a dead give away to his age, but it was so appealing somehow.

“Don’t know. Guess I’m just old,” he spoke, trying to hide the insecurities that phrasing brought about. He was too old for you, he shouldn’t be sitting here with you you alone and calling you pretty, and yet…

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Too many boys my age are still very immature these days.” And it was very much true. Too young, too immature, and too stupid to see what’s in front of them and really appreciate it. Older men have a tendency to take care of the things they have, because they know that with time they can lose them.

“That so?”

“Mhm.”

“They don’t even realize what their missin’ out on, do they?”

You shook your head in reply. Nope. Not a single one of the younger guys you’ve dated has treated you with the care you know he could. He’s always treated you with care, before… why would that change now?

“They probably figure there’s a million girls linin’ up after me that they can take a shot at,” you raised your eyebrows and drank some more. Maybe it was just a thought of some past experiences, but this beer was tasting better and better to you.

“I pity them,” he said nonchalantly, without really thinking about it.

“Who, the girls? I mean, I kinda feel bad, but other times, I think we all know what we’re getting ourselves into n’ we just try to ignore the red flags.”

It was meant as a joke, but he was being genuinely serious.

“No, the guys. I pity ‘em.”

“Oh, do you?”

“I do,” he nodded, thinking of the right words to say. “They lost you, didn’t they? Biggest mistake of their lives and they didn’t even know. Pity ‘em just for that.”

You didn’t know what to say. You figured the wide smile you wore was doing a fine enough job, but he wasn’t looking like he had anything else to voice yet.

“You think I’m somethin’ special, Joel Miller?”

He set his bottle down on the counter and walked around it to stand right in front of your barstool. He took both your hands and pulled them to his chest, just holding them there and looking to you with the sweetest expression you’ve ever seen from him. He’s so different than what you remember in your earlier years. He used to be so stoic and serious. Sometimes even a little grumpy. Guess time changes things.

“I wouldn’t be gettin’ myself into sum’ this crazy if I thought anything else,” he mumbled it almost, but he definitely meant it. His words rang true in every aspect of the implications they made. This was crazy, it was very unlikely in the first place, but even still, it was happening. Neither of you backed down, neither of you said no.

“If it helps, I happen to think you’re pretty damn special, too.”

He didn’t respond, just leaned closer towards you, nudging his nose against yours, before letting your lips meet in a kiss. it washed rushed and hazy like the last time. It wasn’t forceful or fast or anything of that sort. It was gentle, and it was meaningful. All the years he’d known you, but never like this. You knew this attraction was new, but it was still real. You wondered how many women pined after him over the years, only for you to now gage his attention when clearly no one else did. The man’s been single since Sarah’s mom left, and otherwise, you didn’t know him to be much of a ‘dating around’ kinda guy. Standing here with him, now, you felt such excitement in knowing he’d pursue you, the off limits woman, over anyone else. It was a true victory, or at least you thought so, sitting on a stool in his kitchen while he kissed you softly, his thumbs going over the backs of your hands that still lingered in his.

When the kiss broke, you inhaled deeply, the scent of him so close to you, surrounding you. He was like a warm blanket you just pulled out of the dryer. He was comforting, and soft, and his skin was currently hot to the touch. You could only hope that you had something to do with that.

“Baby,” he breathed, hands letting go of yours and finding a new home at your waist. You left your hands on his chest, feeling his heart rate fluctuating. “Gotta know something before this goes any further…”

You hummed in response, still trying to even your breath intake. He backed away a few inches to be able to look you in the eyes correctly. He’d spent enough time with you in the past to know if you were telling the truth, and he was going to use it just this once to his advantage.

“What we’re doin’, you sure you’re okay with it?” He knew better than to jump into this without clarification. “Don’t want you feelin’ pressured if you’re not.”

“I want this,” you spoke softly, just loud enough that he could hear. “Promise.”

You had thought you’d been the instigator to this, if memory serves you correctly. Even still, you know now that whatever happens, he won’t take it somewhere you don’t want it to go. This show of good faith was something you could put trust in him over. He’s a good one, you always knew that.

And again his lips were on yours, differently this time. It was a bit more hasty and fervent like the first time, but there was still something different from then that you couldn’t quite decipher.

You absent-mindedly opened your legs and he instantly came between them, letting your bodies become flush with one another. His hands ran up and down your sides, every once and a while dipping to your hips and somewhere below on your thighs.

There was a heat between them that you didn’t realize was there until he came so close to touching it. He never actually did, though, and you were both endeared by and upset about it. He was the one making that heat spread, he can’t just leave it there… but he’s testing his limits, and you think it’s respectful that he is.

He doesn’t want to cross any lines… as if this entire entanglement has not already done that. This situation in every sense of the definition, has crossed the line. Him hugging you that tightly on his porch, him inviting you in after dark when it’s only you and him alone, having a beer with some very personal conversation, and now making out with you in his kitchen. They all crossed the line of what should happen between a man and his best friend’s daughter.

“Tell me to stop,” he mumbled against your mouth, almost as if reading your mind. His hand on your thigh drifted between your legs, just barely caressing the heated pool sitting there, waiting for him. It was still very reserved, and you had to buck against his hand for more friction, but at least it was something.

The taste of him somehow made it worse, the feeling growing inside you without an end in sight. The arousal was evident, but you weren’t sure he would be able to do anything about it, yet. You could tell it was weighing on his mind, what was okay for him to do, and what wasn’t. You would beg him if you had to, you just needed more.

He had an idea, one that could allow both of you to explore this dynamic easier, and one that could potentially keep him from overstepping like he was afraid to.

He removed his hands only for a minute, bringing yours up and over his shoulders before he settled his back down below your ass.

“Hold on,” he told you, lifting you from the seat and walking until he got to the living room. From there, he let the space guide him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. He sat almost abruptly, and when you relaxed your weight onto him, you felt the stirring between his legs as well. You moaned into his mouth at the mere size and feeling of it, beginning to slowly grind down onto him. He encouraged your movements, and used his hands to guide your hips as you went, back and forth, getting into a rhythm.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, tearing himself away for a moment to expel his breath from his lungs at the new feeling. Your head fell against his, and suddenly it was the movement of your lower half taking you over.

He let his hands move over your body a bit more freely, now, but still careful not to make any harsh movements, or grab in places he felt he shouldn’t linger too long. He knew you wanted this, but something inside him questioned how comfortable you really felt… that was until you started doing the same, roaming his body with your delicate touch, making him feel like the most important man in the world. You could have sworn you marked the exact moment he snapped, rolling his hips upwards into yours shamelessly. It was so deliciously addicting, the feeling of his body pleasing yours, and vice versa. His rough and sturdy hands, though still gentle, ravished any part of you available to him.

The air between you was hot and thick, and you could swear that by breathing it in, you were drawing even more arousal into your body.

The motions kept going until there was a quickening of pace brought on by you both simultaneously. You couldn’t mark a distinction of when it increased, you just knew that the speed you were going wasn’t where you started. All you could think of was that your spend was fast approaching, and you wondered if his was, too.

“Gettin’ close,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out for the moans that slipped passed your lips. “M’gonna…”

He heard you, and understood. Truth be told, he’d started getting hard since that moment on the porch, so this was just nothing but sweet relief to him. He kept on, trying to meet you at your finish.

“Let go , baby.”

You had no qualms about being told twice when it came to him. You gave it up easily, the muscles in your body contracting when you felt the wash of utter ease through every inch of you. He tensed beneath you, but relaxed with a groan of relief right after, and you could feel his length twitch in his jeans.

You just dry-humped Joel Miller on his couch. Like a horny teenager. What the fuck.

The dawn of realization was cut short by his hand softly coercing the back of your neck, bring your lips back for him to claim as he did earlier. Soft, and gentle, no rush, no heat. Just that feeling between you both that started this mess.… and it was indeed a mess.

“You wanna stay over?”

-

Tags (open):

@justanothersadperson93 @moonchild-warrior @hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof @untamedheart81 @just-someone-broken @joelalorian @xybil @yvonneeeee

If i tagged you wrong, or you want to be taken off at any time, just lmk!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf! joel miller #joel miller age gap #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 4 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 11,018 words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, current chapter, Chapter 5 + 6 (in the works)

        "Andy."

        "Hey Andy, wake up..."

        "Andrew."

        "Andrew, wake up!" 

        Andrew shot awake, before letting out a hiss, clutching his head as it pounded terribly. He cradled his head, before turning his attention to his bedside, where Ashley stood. 

        "What are you doing here?" Andrew questioned, still holding his head. "You manage to worm your way in here that quickly after getting banned?" 

        "Hospital security sucks." She hummed. "That, or they just hire any idiot off the street."

        "Maybe you can get a job here." Andrew commented sarcastically, earning a half-hearted glare from his sister. "But you still didn't answer my question. Why are you here?" 

        "Well, how are you healing? Are we ready to get out of here?" Ashley questioned, sitting down on his bedside, the uneven distribution of weight on his bed causing his injured legs to shift, making him wince. 

        "I don't know..." he hissed between his teeth as pain shot through his legs and head. "I think it'd be best for me to stay here until I can walk again. We have no where to go when I heal up, and the nurse said I'd have to be bedridden for a few weeks to make sure my legs heal and get strong again." He spoke. "I bet there's probably going to have to be physical therapy too for my legs, so I can walk and crap." 

        "Ugh... healing broken bones takes too long. I feel like a kid watching their grandpa die." She groaned, physically deflating. 

        "What's the rush?" Andrew questioned. "We're out of our old city, and it's not like anyone's following us anymore." 

        Ashley had a look on her face, a flash of hesitancy appeared on her face, gaining Andrew's immediate interest. "I just... I had a dream last night, from the demon, and..." she paused, looking away as she thought what to say.

        "And...? And what?" Andrew questioned, prompting for her to go on.

        "Ah, never mind." She huffed, a little frustrated. "It's not something you can help with, being bedridden and all." 

        "Are you sure?" Andrew questioned, seeming concerned. "You can tell me—" 

        "Don't worry about it, Andy!" Ashley smiled, plastering on a fake smile. "It's nothing too big. So, how are the nurses and doctors treating you?" 

        "Good..." Andrew muttered. 

        He was concerned about Ashley's strange behavior, but he knew that if she didn't want to talk, she sure as hell won't. 

        "They're all fine... Some of the nurses and doctors here are pretty weird, but the one nurse that takes care of me seems pretty nice." Andrew explained. "but, she works in the pediatric branch so I don't see her much." Andrew quickly added, hoping that his lack of time and attention to the nurse would save him from another argument between the siblings.

        "A nurse? Is she pretty?" Ashley questioned, keeping up her innocent smile.

        Andrew knew this trap very well. He opted to look away from her eyes, staring out the window at the daylight outside.

        "No..." he lied. "I wouldn't say that."

        "Really? Even with her pretty (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair?" Ashley questioned.

        When did Ashley meet (Y/N)? Ashley had never been in the hospital during the night, so there's no way she met her inside the hospital.

        "How did you know what she looked like? Did you meet (Y/N)?" Andrew questioned, curious as he turned his gaze back at Ashley.

        "I knew it..." Ashley muttered, a distasteful expression on her face. 

        "What?" Andrew questioned, confused.

        "Don't worry about it." Ashley spoke, standing up from the bed's end, the small movement causing Andrew's legs to hurt a bit. "I'm gonna go grab food. I didn't get any on the way here. I'll see you later, Andrew." Ashley smiled.

        Before Andrew could open his mouth, Ashley walked out of his room, exploring the hospital as she avoided the nurses and security guards who could recognize her. She was able to snatch a scalpel lying in one of the empty doctor offices while a nurse was cleaning the exam table, headphones in her ears as she blasted music. Quite unprofessional really, but it helped Ashley get a weapon that was actually useful rather than an empty handgun. 

        She shoved it in her pocket and waited around the hospital for hours, changing her hiding spot every now and then. She made sure to stay in the pediatric branch, the branch Andrew said that pretty little nurse worked in. In one of her hiding spots, two little boys were rummaging around before they discovered her.

        The two had been looking around for their parents after escaping their hospital rooms, Ashley figured due to them calling out “Mom! Dad!” in the hallways. They got to her hiding spot and opened the white curtain she was hiding behind, looking to see if their parents were behind there (kid logic, it makes no sense).

        Before the two could scream, Ashley quickly covered their mouths with her hands.

        “Don’t be brats now, stay quiet.” She hissed.

        They looked at each other, then her, before nodding. Ashley looked hesitant to let them go, but she didn’t want to be discovered, so she moved her hands from their mouths, wiping her hands on her shirt.

        “Are you a ghost?” one of the kids whispered.

        “No.” She answered, her expression a mix between boredom and displeasure.

        “Are you a nurse?” the other questioned. 

        “No.” Ashley scoffed, her tone almost sounding offended that they had the audacity to say that. “Like I’d work with kids."

        “So, who are you? What are you doing here?” one of the blond boys questioned.

        “I’m playing hide and seek with one of my friends.” She lied. “Leave, you’re gonna give away my hiding spot.” She huffed, grabbing the curtain and closing it to shield her from view.

        Before the kids could ask to play too (having already forgotten their parents), they heard footsteps, followed by a voice.

        “What are you two doing?” a female questioned, her shadow being seen through the curtain. 

        Both of the boys jumped, letting out squeals as they turned to look at her. Ashley grabbed the scalpel she stole out of her pocket, holding it tightly in her hand. Whether it was the she was looking for or not, she’d kill her if she gets discovered.

        “N-nothing! Just… playing!” one of the boys spoke nervously.

        Good… Ashley thought, smirking. 

        “I’m Tom, that’s Jerry.” One introduced themselves.

        “Like the cartoon?” the nurse questioned.

        Funny. Ashley thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the joke.

        “Um… yes?” one of them spoke, hesitant in their answer.

        “Well, it sure matches you both, since you sneaked out of your rooms.” The nurse commented. “Who are you talking to?” she questioned.

        Ashley’s grip on the scalpel’s handle tightened, wiggling her shoulders to loosen up a bit in case the nurse got too curious, getting ready to kill her.

        “Come along now.” The nurse spoke.

        Ashley watched the two small shadows walk away from her hiding spot. The nurse stayed for a second, keeping her attention on the curtain, before she guided the two boys away from her. Ashley peeked her head out of the curtain, seeing a nurse with two little boys walking away. The nurse had (h/c) hair, but Ashley couldn’t see the color of her eyes.

        Damn. Ashley thought. I think that was just my target…

        She couldn’t be certain per se, but it was certainly the best description so far. 

        Well, it’s not the end of the world. In fact, it’s probably for the best. If she killed the girl in this hospital, not only could she get medical assistance from others in the hospital if something goes wrong, but it’d be a pain in the ass to hide the body somewhere here too (not to mention the security cameras). If someone died in the hospital, they’d check the security cameras and find Ashley, then Andrew would be in trouble too since Ashley walked in his room and he was left unharmed. 

        If she can’t kill her in the hospital, she’d just kill her at home. She can just hitch a ride in (Y/N)’s car, it’s really not that hard. Ashley can just follow the girl out of the hospital and either threaten her with the empty gun (not like the nurse would know) or she can just unlock her car depending on her car’s model.

        Ashley made sure to follow behind (Y/N) for the rest of the night. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long. After rushing out of the staff room, she ran to the elevators. Ashley took the chance to rush down the hallway and slide down the hospital staircase railing, reaching the elevator’s lobby. She followed (Y/N) out of the hospital lobby, following her to her car. 

        (Y/N) unlocked the car and hopped in the driver’s seat, Ashley timing opening and closing the door from her the back passenger side on her right. (Y/N) buckled her seatbelt, turning up the radio to a random jazz station this late at night and sitting in her car, thinking in silence.

        (Y/N) seemed to be muttering to herself, this combined with the radio on allowed Ashley to situate herself onto the car floor, away from (Y/N)’s vision. Maybe if (Y/N) wasn’t so upset, or maybe if she drove in silence without the auditory distraction, she would’ve noticed Ashley behind her; but she didn’t.

        Ashley decided not to kill (Y/N) at the moment. If (Y/N) died, they’d crash and Ashley could potentially die or be hospitalized; which would give her a one-way ticket to jail after they examine (Y/N)’s body and realized she didn’t die from the crash.

        (Y/N) kept muttering as she drove, seemingly annoyed. Ashley was a bit curious of what she was so upset about (Penelope’s potential crush for Andrew, she was upset about) but Ashley stayed quiet; it would be pretty stupid to say “hey, what are you muttering about?” when you snuck into your victim’s car to kill them. 

        The drive wasn’t too long, but to Ashley it felt like an entirety. When the car stopped, (Y/N) turned off the radio and stayed in the car for a few minutes, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she stared into space absentmindedly. She finally let out a sigh, then unlocked her car and hopped out. (Y/N) locked the car and walked to her apartment door on the first floor outside, opening the door and shutting it behind her. 

        Ashley undid the car door lock on the inside, popping up the lock button and carefully exiting the car (after a small heart attack from the inner lights of the car turning on once she opened the door). She made sure there were no people in the parking lot, then she shut the car door behind her and ran up to (Y/N)’s apartment. 

        Ashley walked up to the door, carefully trying the door handle to see if it was unlocked. It was.

        This is almost pathetic how easy it is…

        Either the work day tired her out, or she really has no common sense or street smarts.

        Ashley slinked into the apartment, the house pitch black. (Y/N) didn’t even bother trying to light up the house, now this was starting to get almost sad.

        Ashley crept carefully through the hallway, using her hands to guide her through the dark. Ashley made it to an opening that led into the living room, the only source of light being the window that showed the sun starting to rise.

        (Y/N) was on her back as she laid on her couch, staring up at the ceiling silently, no thoughts seeming to go through her mind.

        Okay, now this is depressing. Very depressing. Ashley almost felt a little sorry taking her life; or, what was left of it really, which wasn’t much it seemed.  

        Ashley carefully walked past the depressed nurse, finding her kitchen. Ashley decided she didn’t want the scalpel anymore and she traded it for a long kitchen knife instead, 8 inches long with a sharp, pointy blade. 

        She held the knife as she explored more of the house, finding (Y/N)’s room. The room was probably the most decorated of the house, with small plotted pants in the window (surprisingly alive, a comparison to their soon-to-be-dead owner). Her room wasn’t decorated much, having a dresser, a closet, a bookshelf of books, a bed, and a desk. Her walls were pretty plain, and she barely had anything on her dresser to hold other than a multimedia center on it.

        Even her bedding was a plain grey, but there were colorful soft plushies that covered the bed to brighten up the room.

        Ashley’s unsure if that’s childish or even more pathetic, needing plushies to replace humans? That’s just depressing.

        Ashley was starting to doubt if it was even worth killing this woman, her life is already pathetic enough as it is. Ashley even contemplated if someone would even miss her. For now, Ashley hid behind the bedroom door and waited for (Y/N) to walk in… whenever she decides to stop sulking on the couch.         .         .

        (Y/N) laid on her couch, staring at the ceiling pathetically. She couldn’t be bothered to think, or even recall her day. Days and week just all just seemed to blur into one now. If one of her patients told her this is how they felt in life, she’d be considered and talk with Doctor Ryan about scheduling an appointment with a therapist; but (Y/N) had been living like this since she was a child. It doesn’t affect her as much as it did when she was a child.

        Being alone doesn’t hurt anymore.

        I need to get up and shower… (Y/N) thought. 

        She turned on her side, staring at her reflection in her TV. She looked pathetic curled up on the couch like that. 

        She wanted to get up and get ready for deal, get rid of all the germs and hazardous matter that was stuck on her clothes and skin, but walking to the bathroom just seemed like a challenge. 

        She groaned, pausing a few seconds, before getting up from her couch and sluggishly walking to her room.

        I just need to shower, eat a meal, then sleep. I should be feeling better tomorrow. She thought, telling herself the same lie she’s told herself for years. 

        She walked down her hallway, a plain hallway. It was nothing but bare wall, just about as empty as she felt here alone. She had no paintings to put up (and deciding what she’d hang up would be too much of a struggle). She didn’t want to hang up any of her awards or accomplishments, they held no meaning if her parents couldn’t see the victory or praise her for it. She had no family pictures, and even if she did, she wouldn’t have felt pride about the woman that would stand in the frame—not herself or her mother.

        She let out a soft sigh, maybe she should get a pet? Sleeping in a bed covered with stuffed animals doesn't really make loneliness any better, just makes sleep more comfortable. Pets are great for depression too! But it'd be so bothersome trying to choose one, yet alone have time for it... maybe she could just get her a reptile, something that can live inside of a habitat and won't need much care; be independent and uncaring to touch, unlike her own needs.

        She opened her bedroom door, flicking on the light switch. She stepped inside, rummaging through her drawers for a comfortable set of pajamas. Ashley stood in the corner, watching (Y/N) from behind the open bedroom door, before she decided to take her chance. 

        She carefully crept behind (Y/N), a kitchen knife in hand, one she stole from (Y/N)'s kitchen since Andrew wasted all the bullets in her gun when he shot that hitman in the park. She was a little nervous, it’d be her first kill without Andrew or the help of her demon friend.

        As much as she’d like to give (Y/N)’s soul to the demon, this felt more like a personal kill. Surely the demon wouldn’t mind too much if Ashley gave them a dead body instead of a living person.

        Ashley raised her knife in the air, planning to hit (Y/N)’s neck. She’d rather make this quick, they’re in an apartment complex so there’s neighbors around; she’d rather not have anyone hear what’s going on.

        Before Ashley could plunge the knife down, (Y/N) turned around, her clothes in hand as she looked at Ashley. Her eyes widened, surprised, before it trailed to the silver blade in her hands.

        “…Hey?” Ashley smiled, feigning an amused smile to hide the nervousness she felt in committing this act alone for the first time.

        “Are you… trying to kill me with my own kitchen knife?” (Y/N) questioned, recognizing the blade almost immediately.

        She even looked a bit annoyed that Ashley had the audacity to kill her with her own knife, her own money and cooking utensil being used against her. That’s indeed a bit frustrating once you push away that fear, recognizing you’re about to die.

        “Uh, yeah?” Ashley confirmed. “Are you gonna fight, or is this gonna be—“ 

        (Y/N) quickly grabbed her bottle of perfume before Ashley could finish her sentence, spraying Ashley in the eyes. 

        Yeah, not easy, it seemed.

        “Fuck!” Ashley hissed, squeezing her eyes shut as she swung her knife rapidly in the air. 

        (Y/N) was trapped between Ashley and the dresser, trying to avoid the knife before it slashed her forearm. (Y/N) took the chance, using her dresser for leverage as she placed her foot on the dresser for a boost, smashing her shoulder into Ashley’s chest, pushing her away. 

        Ashley stumbled on the ground, the knife laying next to her as her eyes stung from the potent citrusy perfume. (Y/N) rushed past Ashley, but Ashley heard her steps and reached out. With luck, she successfully grabbed (Y/N)’s leg and tripped her, resorting in her falling right next to Ashley. 

        “Fucking bitch.” Ashley hissed venomously, feeling for her knife through her blurred vision.

        She felt the cold blade, reaching a bit lower and grabbing the handle, keeping a strong hold of it. She kept ahold of (Y/N)’s leg as she stabbed her calf, hitting bone. 

        A terrible sharp and tingling sensation shot through (Y/N)’s leg, seeing white for a second as the pain caught up. (Y/N) let out a gasp, verging on a scream, before Ashley raised the knife once more, plunging it in a spot near the  first wound.

        (Y/N) reached back and kicked Ashley in the face a few times, resulting in Ashley letting go of (Y/N)’s foot. Ashley groaned, standing up from the ground as (Y/N) clutched her leg, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to try and stand up in case of any tearing or excessive bleeding. It’s not like she could run far now.

        Ashley stood over her, tears in her eyes as she did her best to see through them and fight the stinging. They both glared at each other, needing no words to show their distaste in one another.

        “I wouldn’t have to do this if you would’ve just stayed away from Andrew.” Ashley spoke, glaring down at her.

        “Not my fault he prefers me. Maybe if you weren’t so obsessive and insecure he could somewhat tolerate your sorry ass.” (Y/N) retorted, a pained smile on her face to piss Ashley off.

        “You’re one to talk.” She chuckled. “Must be real nice to come home alone, pathetically lounging around lazily.”

        “I’m lazy because of hard work. What do you do for a living other than blowing heads and giving it?” (Y/N) chuckled at her vulgar comment (one with lack of evidence, but it wasn't supposed to be a fact), a smile on her face as she observed Ashley. “Doesn’t take much to use that mouth of yours, considering how big it is from all that big shit you talk.” 

        If Ashley wasn’t mad now, she was absolutely livid now at (Y/N)’s insult. She bent down and grabbed a fistful of (Y/N)’s hair, grabbing a fistful of it as she dragged (Y/N) up. (Y/N) stood on her one leg, keeping any weight off her injured one as Ashley glared at her.

        “I can’t wait to kill you. I’ll even bring your head to Andrew so he could see how pathetic you look with your eyes rolled back and tongue hanging out. Hell, I think I’ll cut that tongue out after I’m done with you, that way you can’t bother the devil with it.” She hissed. 

        “You gonna eat it after? Have your own tongue-action with me since you’re so jealous?” (Y/N) chuckled. “Or would you rather that with your own brother? That’s pretty disgusting, if you ask me. Mommy and daddy didn’t give you enough attention so you had to resort to your own brother.”

        Yes, because (Y/N) definitely had a healthy relationship with her parents to say that...

        “I would never eat you. You’re too salty, and that’s not just your attitude too.” Ashley smirked. “After I cut your tongue out and take your head to Andrew, I’ll give your soul to that demon for some vision, then I’ll dump your body in some alley for some homeless man to use.” 

        “Demon?” (Y/N) questioned. “Of course you’d have connections with demons.” 

        “What can I say?” Ashley smiled as a stabbing sensation hit (Y/N)’s stomach. “I get around.”

        “Yeah…” (Y/N) groaned, a pained chuckle escaping her. “I can tell…” 

        Ashley took the knife out of (Y/N’s stomach, going to plunging again, but (Y/N) quickly used her nails and smashed them into Ashley’s eyes, kneeing Ashley with her injured leg since she couldn’t use her healthy once because she’d just fall once applying pressure to her injured leg.

        Ashley let out a short scream at the feeling. Ashley tumbled backwards as (Y/N) followed, using her weight to hold Ashley down as Ashley thrashed about. Ashley tried to stab (Y/N) again, but (Y/N) grabbed her wrists, the two of them struggling for the knife.

        “Let go!” Ashley shouted, one of her eyes covered by (Y/N)’s sharp thumb.

        “You first!” (Y/N) retorted, knowing very well the both of them wouldn't give up as she moved her other hand to the knife, now having both of her hands to try and fight for the knife. (Y/N) ignored the stinging in her forearm from earlier’s slashing.

        (Y/N) was able to grab the knife from Ashley’s hands after a bit of a struggle and a few small cuts on the finger. She held onto the blade tightly as Ashley tried to keep (Y/N)’s wrist steady. It was proven fruitless as the first stab hit Ashley’s chest, hitting bone. Ashley let out a choked sob, pain pooling out of her mouth and chest.

        (Y/N) scoffed, a bit annoyed at Ashley's struggle. If Ashley would just keep still, it wouldn’t hurt as bad. She was willing to make it quick, but Ashley’s squirming and thrashing around was only making her miss.

        “Stop moving.” (Y/N) hissed, using her injured hand to hold Ashley still by her neck.

        (Y/N) struck the knife down again, stabbing Ashley’s sternum. And again, she stabbed her chest, over and over as Ashley let out pained groans and small whimpers, doing her best to claw (Y/N)’s hands. Her hands weakened, her protests and strangled breaths shortening as her pulse weakened under (Y/N)’s hold while (Y/N)’s pulse and breaths only quickened, as if Ashley was giving her own life to her.

        She kept stabbing...

        She kept stabbing...

        She kept stabbing.

        It was like she couldn’t control her hand, like she had no thought other than the echo in her ears.

        Stab…

        Stab…

        Stab.

        She didn’t stop until her hand was soaked, too wet to hold the knife right. She realized she had been stabbing all the way down to the hilt, eight inches that was repeatedly stabbing into Ashley’s chest.

        (Y/N) paused, staring down at Ashley’s face, both faces void of emotion and thought. 

        I did that. She realized.

        A sick turning sensation lurked in her stomach, making her realize she was stabbed in an vital point. She dropped her knife, groaning as she hissed. She got up off Ashley’s dead body, crawling her way to her bathroom, making sure not to get any blood on her carpet. It would've been better for her if Ashley just kept the knife in her stomach, keeping the wound plugged in, but unfortunately Lady Luck seems to avoid (Y/N) any chance she can. 

        She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a med-kit. Well, that’s one thing useful about being a nurse, you’re always prepared at home.

        She opened the kit, but paused. She couldn’t just open up her stomach and stitch up the insides, but if she goes to the hospital like this she’d definitely get questioned. (Y/N) groaned, mulling over what she should do. 

        She didn’t mean to kill Ashley. Well, she did in self-defense, but she didn’t mean to do it so cruelly. It was almost like second-nature to harm her.

        But she deserved it, didn’t she? She hurt Andrew, (Y/N) remembers that. Ashley made him jump, she’s the one that broke his legs and gave him internal bleeding in his head. (Y/N) made not know much about Ashley, but she knows how manipulative she is. She remembered hearing Ashley screaming at Andrew the first day she met Andrew. She remembered Ashley accusing Andrew of all the crimes he did; of course, he committed them, but she helped too, so she was still at fault. 

        The Graves siblings, even their name is fitting. Two siblings who put others in their graves, and now one is in their own. 

        (Y/N) couldn’t go to the police, not with this. It was self-defense, maybe with the intent of third-degree murder, a spur of the moment, nevertheless it was to protect herself even if she did get a bit carried away. She surely can’t just blame it all on stress or childhood neglect, she’d be a hypocrite.

        She always refused to let her past get in the way of her future. The love she didn’t receive from her parents, she gave to herself. The support she never received from her parents, she gave to herself. She earned all her awards, her scholarships, her jobs, her money all on her own without any support, encouragement, or financial aid from her parents.

        Her mother didn’t believe she could be a nurse. Her mother never really had any faith in her, but her mother never did stick around her long enough to bother learning who were daughter was.

        “You’re far too apathetic and antisocial for that sort of thing, they'd be scared of you.” Her mother would say. “All you care about is yourself. You’d be fired within the first week for neglecting the kids..”

        Ironic coming from her.

        Her father didn’t want her to be a nurse either, not for pediatrics or adults. 

        “It’s just not a good idea. You’re too sensitive for such things. You couldn’t survive watching kids die everyday, that’s such a depressing job.” Her father would say. “You shouldn’t be a nurse in general. Adult men take advantage of caring nurses, it doesn’t help that you’re so... weak? You're just too innocent and pretty for that kind of work! It’s best you find something else. Do something that makes you happy!” 

        Yeah, she totally refuse to let her past get in her way... Her apartment was as void of color as her. She slept with plushies to cope with her loneliness. On bad days, she has no friends to call or parents who'd listen to her vent, so the stuffed animals listen to her instead. She doesn't ever have energy to eat or shower or clean, the only reason she does all those things is to keep herself somewhat healthy so she wouldn't draw any attention from others. She wouldn't want to be a bother to them over some measly emotions. She's dealt with depression practically her whole life, why suddenly indulge in change if it might worsen her condition. 

        She doesn't want to be happy, that would involve having to put energy into changing herself and her lifestyle, and all she wants to do is spend her energy hopping into bed and sleeping. She wasn't one to care for herself, she liked making other people happy. 

        Kids made her happy. Medicine made her happy. She loved working with kids, caring and nurturing for them like they were her own. She liked being the reason a kid could walk again, or talk, or play, or smile. She liked helping children, giving them the help they needed. She liked being able to change their lives, catch those early signs and prevent them from becoming herself; someone absolutely miserable, depressed, and hating herself. Hell, the only reason she hasn't killed herself was because she doesn't want to be a bother to other people. 

        She liked medicine. She liked studying medical advancements, all the new machines and inventions and vaccines and diseases and all! She liked learning about it all; medical procedures, illnesses and disorders, psychology facts, disorders, injuries, hell sometimes medicine could even dive into philosophy! 

        Medicine and kids made her happy because it was what she lacked as a child. She liked being a pediatric nurse, she liked giving kids the chance to receive help early on so they could be functional adults in life, so they couldn't end up like (Y/N); a mother who couldn't care about her, a misguided father, money being towards bills and education, no relationships or genuine connections or friendships with people, and no joy in life other than sleeping her days away. As a nurse, she could catch onto early symptoms for kids and be able to address the issues before it worsen; whether it'd be physical or mental health, that's why she's studying to be a pediatrician now. 

        But she can't be a pediatrician if she goes to jail. This act of self-defense was far too cruel and grotesque, the judges wouldn't believe that it was for self-defense, far too homicidal and beast-like with how she basically just slashed Ashley's ribcage open. No, she wouldn't win that court case at all. She'd lose her job, and she'd probably never be able to work in medical field ever! She needed to do something.

        She put the med-kit back into her cabinet, instead she took off her shoe and grabbed her sock, plugging up her wound with it. Yes, it was very gross and she felt like gagging at this, but it was to insure she wouldn't bleed out. She had been stabbed in her stomach with an 8-inch knife, so no doubt there would be internal damage she couldn't patch up on her own. She used her other sock to plug in the hole on her right calf, plugging the wound up until it was stuffed despite the pain she felt digging her fingers into the wound. She put back on her shoes without her socks and stood up from the ground

        She quickly got to work, grabbing two large black blankets. She wrapped up Ashley's body in both blankets, ensuring the blood wouldn't drip everywhere, and she dragged the body to her car. She put the body and knife in her trunk and limped back into her house, quickly mopping up the mess using hydrogen peroxide on her floors to completely get rid of all the blood. She put her phone on her charger at home, leaving it so the police couldn't track her location on her phone in case anything happens. She got in her car and drove, going further and further out of the city until a good distance away, going to the woods. She got the dead body and knife out of her car, dragging it a good ways into the dark woods before dropping it. 

        She couldn't leave the body in her apartment, and she couldn't just drop it off somewhere in the city when her DNA was under Ashley's fingernails when Ashley scratched her. She left the knife here too, she didn't want to keep a knife she almost got murdered with, and she didn't want to keep it as a trophy for her crimes either. Here in these woods, this is where the police will least likely find her and the murder weapon, at least for tonight. Tomorrow, (Y/N) will return and dig a grave for her, or maybe she'll luck out a wild animal will feast on her. Even then, nobody will probably miss her other than Andrew.

        Jesus, what is she gonna tell Andrew? She can't just say she killed his sister! Even if he's a runaway criminal, she's one too now! He's probably not against murdering her, even if he doesn't like her better than the other nurses. I mean, she killed his sister, so it's only natural for him to kill her?

        But, his sister was just a runaway, she was a criminal! Maybe there's no police looking for them, but still! (Y/N) was a nurse, she's saved plenty of lives, surely taking one can't be that bad? Especially if she took a wrongdoer's life? 

        Before she could turn around and walk out of the woods, she stopped, pausing. She had this nagging feeling to check Ashley’s pockets. It was like a gut instinct (or perhaps literally being gutted earlier) that told her to check. She got on the ground, undoing the blankets and checking Ashley’s pockets to sate this desire. She first found a gun in her waistband. (Y/N) took the gun, popping out the magazine to check how many rounds there were.

        None, empty. Either Ashley found this gun with no bullets, or she already used them.

        (Y/N) did some more digging and found a scalpel, a hospital scalpel from her work she could only assume. Perhaps Ashley was planning to kill (Y/N) with the small blade, before deciding to steal her kitchen knife instead. The bigger the better, right?

        Finally, she looked in Ashley's pockets once more and found something in one of her pockets. Some black and red occult looking charm.

        She remembered Ashley mentioning how she’d give a demon (Y/N)’s soul in exchange for a vision. Is this their charm that keeps them in contact, or in a contract together? Whatever it was, (Y/N) felt like she should keep it in case it was indeed something to a demon; she didn’t want it going into the wrong hands (as if she could talk). (Y/N) shoved the charm into her pocket, keeping the gun and scalpel now that it had her fingerprints, before turning around.

        Did you see this coming, Ashley? (Y/N) thought, resisting the urge to let a smug smirk form on her face. 

        She limped back out of the woods, hopping into her car and hiding the two weapons under her car seat away from view. She turned the engine on, speeding to the hospital and going ten above the speed limit. It wasn't good for her to be out for so long. She could live with her leg being injured so long as she didn't bleed out, but her stomach could definitely develop to internal bleeding, if not already due to how big that knife was. On her way there, she tried thinking of an alibi. This is a knife wound, so it's mandatory for the hospital staff to report this incident to the police. The police are going to ask her questions about what happened and such. (Y/N) doesn't want to come clean, if she does, her whole life would be ruined! She'd lose the only thing she has in her life that she genuinely cares about; her job. If she loses her job and education, she'd be completely lost in this world with absolutely no passions or interests, she might just develop an interest for putting herself in a grave instead and take her life. 

        She thought about her alibi, before cooking up a shitty one. It's the only one she has for a time like this. She can just say that she was driving to the small local store near her apartment complex after work (thus explaining her hospital scrubs), and when she walked out, she was harassed by a man so she fought him and escaped, then drove to the hospital to get medical assistance. She could say she didn't recognize the man, and that he wore a mask so she couldn't see what he looked like. The store she was thinking about just had their cameras stolen a week ago and they have't bother replacing them yet, so there would be no camera footage to confirm or deny this accusation. Her apartment complex is on a bad side of town too (the rent was cheap there), and their camera footage must not be any higher than a quality of a Nokia, so it most likely didn't catch Ashley sneaking into her apartment, or (Y/N) dragging something out out her apartment. Maybe she can pull this off!

        Sure, it's a bad excuse, but what else does she have? This is the best she can come up with on short notice, especially with no witnesses (which is good), along with no camera footage to protect or challenge her word. They'd just have to believe her because what else can they do? She's obviously injured! People in big cities get stabbed all the time and sometimes the assaulters get away with it, maybe she can do this too! 

        (Y/N) got to the hospital entrance and quickly made sure to do a check in her car to make sure there was no DNA of Ashley's. She hopped out of the car and brushed off any dirt or hair or such on her, making sure her gun and scalpel were hidden under her car seat, before limping into the hospital lobby and getting inside of the ER waiting room. 

        The receptionist sat doing work on her computer before her eyes trailed to (Y/N). 

        “Are you okay?” they questioned as (Y/N) held onto her stomach, applying pressure to the sock.

        “I got stabbed in the stomach and my calf. I’ve been bleeding for quite a while, I reckon I’ll pass out soon.” She explained. 

        The nurse nodded and handed her the paperwork to complete. (Y/N) always thought paperwork in the ER was stupid, but it was to help identify the patient and their insurance and all that important information; even in the brink of death, you need to do work. Pathetic, really. It truly does show something about society, whether it's for your own good or not, even if your writing is alienated due to all of your blood on the paper or your blurred vision making it hard to concentrate. 

        (Y/N) sped through the packets of papers and agreements, doing her best to not bleed onto the paper or the hospital chairs (why are the chairs made of cloth instead of leather anyways? At least leather can be washed easier).

        (Y/N) gave the papers to the receptionist, who accepted it and gave it to one of the doctors at the back room. (Y/N) sat down and waited for a doctor to call her name. Her stomach and leg hurt badly, it hurt to breathe and to walk, and her wounds just kept throbbing, spilling more blood and soaking up her temporary sock-bandages. She’s definitely going to throw away these socks…

        The hospital’s bright LED lights hurt her eyes, giving her a headache. Or maybe the headache was from blood loss? Who knows really, it just hurt to sit here and wait.

        Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long before a nurse called her name. They helped her stand up from the chair, leading her to their office in quick fashion. They placed her down on the operating table, asking if she could remember her name, age, where she was, who the president was, etc.

        “I’m (Y/N) (L/N), 22 years old. I got stabbed in my stomach by a knife, along with my right calf and a laceration on my right arm.” She informed the nurse as they put on medical gloves.

        A trauma surgeon came in with a tray of alcohol wipes, a medical needle and thread, a medical stapler, and syringe of anesthesia. (Y/N) resisted the urge to groan, she didn’t like needles, but she understood it would make the surgery much easier for her and them.

        (Y/N) rolled up her sleeves hesitantly, feeling self-conscious about the old scars on her wrists despite the more important matters at hand. The surgeon ignored her scars as he gave her the shot. 

        The surgeon pulled up her shirt to show her stomach as the nurse cut a hole on (Y/N)’s pants for her leg, making her remember the make-shift bandages she had.

        “I had to use what I had to stop the bleeding, so I used my socks.” She spoke for her lie. 

        She would’ve said more, but she decided it was best not to in case she accidentally messed up her alibi. She opted to stay quiet, waiting for the anesthesia to take effect so the doctor could begin the quick surgery. 

        .

        .

        When you wake up from surgery or an accident, you’d expect to see bright light, instead she only saw a dim light peeking through. She opened her eyes, waking up and looking around her.

        There was a curtain next to her, the white curtain had a slit and moonlight poured out, barely lighting the room. Her left arm was hooked to a IV, the needle sticking into the crevice of her elbow. The needle was slowing flowing blood into her, causing her to shudder at the thought of a needle stuck inside her.

        Her eyes trailed down to her right arm, seeing her arm covered in bandages. She picked up her sheets, seeing her leg was covered in bandages too. She moved her hospital gown up, seeing her stomach was covered with a medical patch and medical tape to hold it in place.

        This is probably going to take some time to heal. (Y/N) thought, resisting the urge to groan. 

        How fun, she’s going to spend weekend off here in the hospital. Either that, or she’ll stay home bedridden. 

        There was a soft knock on her door, before it opened, showing one of the doctors from the emergency department of the hospital. She had never met any of the doctors or nurses here, they’re always busy and on their feet running around. 

        “Ms. (L/N)?” he questioned, smiling.

        “That’s me.” She nodded. “Hello, sir.” 

        “Hey! Have you just woken up?” he questioned, a clipboard and pen in his hand as he walked over to her bedside, standing over her.

        “Yes.” She confirmed. 

        “Okay.” He commented, then cleared his throat. “So, you’ve been asleep for 18 hours. Usually anesthesia wears off in a few hours and you would wake up from some pain, but you stayed asleep for quite some time.” He spoke, flipping a page threw his papers clamped on his clipboard. “However, you could’ve been exhausted given you hadn’t slept because you were working earlier. Your medical history could’ve also helped contribute to that—hypersomnia and all.”

        Yes, the condition she’s almost positive her mother gave her. Being locked in that small room as a toddler really did affect her sleep patterns and routine. There wasn’t much to do in that dark room other than cry, watch old cartoon re-runs a thousand times, and sleep—she chose the latter. 

        “Yeah, sorry.” She muttered, not sorry at all but still feeling the need to apologize.

        “No worries. So, we did report your case to local authorities since it was a stabbing; you should know, hospital procedure and all.” The doctor spoke as (Y/N) nodding, knowing very well the protocol. “Great. So, there’s actually some officers here to question you about the incident. Are you fine with that?” 

        She nodded, ignoring her nerves that went haywire at the thought of talking to the police. So soon after her crime too! 

        “Okay, so before they come in. Let me explain to you really quick what’s going on.” He spoke, clearing his throat. “So you’re going to stay overnight, well more so over day since it’s 2 A.M. But we’ll look after you. So we stapled up your small intestine, and we stapled the skin of your stomach so that it wouldn’t rip or come undone in a large area like stitches would. Your right calf and right arm were both stitched up too. After two week, you can come back and we’ll remove the staples off your stomach and the sutures. For the next two weeks, you need to eat soft foods and liquids such as soups, breads, puddings, all that."

        “That sounds fine.” She nodded. 

        “Sweet. So, before they come in, is there anything you want or need? Like, do you need to use the bathroom? Or are you hungry or thirsty?” he questioned.

        “No, I’m fine.” she politely denied. 

        She’d rather not drink or eat anything, she felt like throwing up at the moment. She really didn’t feel like getting up and walking to the bathroom with an injured foot at the moment.

        “Okay. I’ll let the officers in.” The doctor nodded, writing a few notes on his clipboard before heading towards the door.

        He opened the door and used his hand to call the officers over. He left the door open as the officer walked in, a female and a male, who walked to (Y/N)’s bedside holding a notepad.

        “Hello, Ms. (L/N), right?” the female smiled. “I’m Officer Jenny and this is my partner, Officer Dixon. We have a few questions for you.” 

        “Nice to meet you.” (Y/N) spoke, flashing the officers a polite smile.

        “So, you’ve been admitted into the hospital for a stabbing, correct?” Officer Jenny questioned.

        “That’s correct, ma’am.” (Y/N) nodded.

        “When and where did you get stabbed?” Officer Jenny questioned.

        “Well, I got stabbed in my stomach by a knife. When I fought them off, they slashed my right arm and they stabbed my right calf.” (Y/N) explained, mentally going over her words carefully as Officer Dixon wrote the information in his notepad.

        “And when did this take place?” Officer Jenny questioned. 

        “Well, it was last night when I got off my shift. I work here at this hospital actually in the pediatric branch.” She added. 

        She was about to go on about her grocery store alibi, but paused. The timeframe won’t match. She took forever to get to the hospital after the stabbing so that she could clean her apartment, dispose of Ashley’s body, and finally get to the hospital. She can’t use the grocery store alibi since not only would be make no sense for her to get stabbed someplace where the cameras are coincidentally shut down, but none of the store employees would mention seeing her when they get questioned by the police, and it wouldn’t help that she decided to drive to the hospital bleeding instead of telling the store to call 911 or herself calling 911. 

        Her alibi is unreliable now, so she needs to quickly act now and change it while acting normal and resist hesitating. The officers’ body-cams would catch their interaction and it would be evaluated by licensed psychiatrists, looking out for any holes in the story, for how her words flow, her vocal patterns, her body language. The alibi is now a death trap.

        “After my shift, I drove back to my apartment and went on a walk in a park. Perhaps 7 P.M, so it was dark because of it being November and all.” She explained. “The park was Pacific North Satellite park.” She added, a park not too far from her apartment complex. 

        “I didn’t bother changing out of my work scrubs because I was just going to shower when I got back to my apartment, and I had left my phone on the charger at home. I was walking down the path listening to nature when I heard footsteps in front of me. Someone came up to me with their hands in their hoodie pocket, a black hoodie.” She explained, lying her way through the story. “They walked past me and quickly slashed my right arm… and… they grabbed my arm and stabbed me in the stomach with their knife… and then when I tried to get away… they knocked me down and stabbed my right calf.” She spoke, pausing her words every now and then to appear distressed as she faked reliving the moment. "I ran back to my apartment, plugged up the most severe wounds with my socks, and drove to the hospital since it wasn't too far and I didn't have my phone to call the police or ambulance. It was late at night, so there wasn't anyone around to ask for help, and I didn't want to be trapped in my apartment in case they decided to follow me...

        “Do you know who they were? Or did you catch what their face looked like?” Officer Jenny questioned as Office Dixon’s blurred, hastily writing down everything he heard.

        “No.” (Y/N) shook her head. “They had a black hoodie with their hood up. They had grey jeans too. They were perhaps around 5’6 tall…” she lied. “I’m unsure of their gender, but I think they were male.” 

        The most common description of a killer, or stereotypical when comparing to Ted Bundy or Jeffery Dahmer. With so little information, it’d be pretty hard to try and identify someone, especially someone who doesn’t exist (but of course, only [Y/N] knows that).

        “Do you think there could’ve been a specific motive or something you provoked?” Officer Jenny questioned, her question almost making (Y/N) scoff.

        Provoke? Provoke? How the hell could I have provoke them? (Y/N) thought, almost forgetting her alibi was still a lie.

        Sometimes she can even lie to herself with how scarily believable her lies are.

        But even if this mysterious murderer she made up didn't have a motive, did Ashley have one? It made her wonder, did Ashley really kill her because she was hated her being Andrew’s nurse? Even then, how the hell did she find out who she was, or even why? Ashley had never seen (Y/N) and Andrew together, at least not without her knowledge. 

        “No, ma’am. I’m unsure why, and I don’t believe I provoked them.” (Y/N) answered.

        “Is there any other information you’d like to tell us?” Officer Jenny questioned.

        “No.” (Y/N) answered.

        Short and sweet, it’s best to leave it all like this.

        “Well, if you ever remember anything or have any questions, make sure to call the department.” Officer Jenny spoke. “If we find any information or such, we’ll give you a call.” 

        “If we find who done it, do you want to press charges?” Officer Dixon questioned, causing (Y/N) to pause and think.

        “No. The process is too time-consuming, besides, I doubt they tried to kill me without a reason.” (Y/N) spoke. 

        Everything happens for a reason, after all. It’s logical to believe so.

        (Y/N) had never believed in fate or destiny, she had always believed everything happens for a reason. She hated the belief of something out of her reach trying to control her or her life. She’d rather choose what she wants to do, not something like fate. (Y/N) believes what she sees, so she doesn’t believe anything that isn’t backed up with facts or evidence. 

        Ashley tried killing (Y/N) for a reason, she said it herself. She'll take the dead woman's word on it since it came from her mouth.

        “I wouldn’t have to do this if you would’ve just stayed away from Andrew.” Her words rang in (Y/N)'s head.

        The audacity of some people, does Ashley truly believe she can control who Andrew sees? It’s not like there was anything wrong with Andrew and (Y/N)’s relationship, they were simply nurse and patient, nothing more and nothing less. Who does Ashley believe she is trying to control Andrew? She doesn’t have his heart, his brain, his body, his thoughts, his mouth, his eyes. He could do whatever he pleases and Ashley shouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

        Well, she can’t now. (Y/N) thought, holding back a chuckle. 

        "Are you sure, miss?” Officer Dixon questioned, surprised.

        “I’m sure. Maybe they had a bad day or something.” (Y/N) shrugged.

        “But you don’t just stab anyone on a bad day, this could be serious.” Officer Jenny spoke, her voice a little harsh compared to her gentle treatment earlier.

        Officer Jenny seems to not like having a killer run around, or have about zero clues.

        “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” (Y/N) sighed. "I'm very tired and I wish to rest.

        “The town next to us, they had a killing in a park too. The victim was a man, he was shot, multiple bullets in his chest.” Officer Jenny spoke quickly, hoping the information could bring some details out of the injured woman. “You happened to be a park too, perhaps this was the same guy! We need as much information as we can. Please miss (L/N), we’re relying on you.”

        “I’m sorry, but I truly don’t know. I don’t have anymore information to give to you.” (Y/N) sighed.

        Officer Jenny’s face hardened as Officer Dixon closed his notepad.

        “Very well. We’ll contact you in case we find any details.” Officer Dixon spoke, nodding his head down in respect and farewell, before telling Officer Jenny with his eyes that it was time to go.

        “Get well soon, miss…” Officer Jenny sighed, walking out of the room with her partner.

        Well, I forgot that part… (Y/N) thought, letting out a breath of relief.

        The park killer from the next door town, right, how could she forget? The victim was a man was found dead on the sidewalk, a clean knife nearby him, no fingerprints. The man had a hood, sunglasses, and gloves; a strange attire to walk around in at night, especially the sunglasses part. He died with six bullet wounds in his chest, the news said. The murder was actually a few days ago, maybe even a week ago. Nevertheless, (Y/N) could bet it was Ashley and Andrew. Ashley had that empty gun on her, which was now under (Y/N)’s car seat. 

        (Y/N) turned her head to the window once the police left. She reached over and opened up the curtains, looking up at the stars, or what she could see. Light pollution in the city is a major pain, you can’t even enjoy nature now thanks to humans.

        (Y/N) looked at the lights outside of the window, it’s the only thing semi-interesting to look at in a hospital bed. She didn’t want to turn on the TV, she knew it was all just re-runs of family-friendly movies like High School Musical or the local news. Unfortunately, hospitals don’t really have any good channels to watch.

        It’s only for one day. (Y/N) thought.

        She just had to deal with this for one day, then she could get back home and sleep. Despite always being so tired, she liked to work. The time she’d take to heal would feel like torture to her. Her depression made her feel a sense of worthlessness doing nothing, so being bedridden is just going to throw her in a depressive state. Usually she’d just get up and work overtime when she feels like this, but she really can’t if she’s injured. 

        Even though she has a reason to be lazing around in bed all day, she's not very happy about it. It's at times like these she wished she had some sort of entertainment in life, or at least friends, people she considered real friends. She had acquaintances growing up, but they just never really did it for her.

        The people she hung around with was only for school, she never bothered hanging out with them outside of school that way she could focus on her studies. Besides, they weren't important people to her, she only talked with them because they had conversed with her first, and it gave her something to pass time with at school. She always did have that closed-off demeanor, it surprised her whole family when she decided she wanted to be a pediatric nurse, and later a pediatrician. 

        (Y/N) stared at the window in deep thought, thinking.

        Maybe she could call her dad. The last time she called him was a month ago, to which she had to leave a voicemail... she never did receive a call back. And after that, she called on her birthday four months... to which she's still waiting for a call back. 

        Well, maybe he's just busy. He has a job and a life outside of his daughter, surely he'll call back eventually. She figured. 

        If she had her phone on her, she'd call and leave another voicemail for him to let him know he's okay.

        Wait, what's the point in calling? She's fine, and she hadn't called him of her condition, so what's the point in calling and telling him that she's still alive? Even if he did answer, what will he say other than a "that's good. I'm glad you're okay. I have to get back to work now." 

        If there's no point calling her dad, then there's certainly no point in calling her mom, for obvious reasons.

        (Y/N) groaned, hitting her head back against the pillow, before letting out a pained whine. Her head pounded terribly, followed by a slight ringing in her ears and a second of her vision blurring. Her right arm shot up to help soothe her head, before she let out a hiss, the movement of her arm causing a sharp pain to shoot up it. 

        "This sucks..." she complained, a pout making way onto her lips. 

        Before she could wallow in her sorrows any further, the door opened, gaining her attention. She turned her head, seeing a familiar man in a wheelchair.

        "Andrew?" she questioned, surprised. 

        "Hey." He greeted, flashing a smile at her.

        (Y/N) internally cringed at the sight of him, not that he was bad-looking or anything, but she wasn't expecting to see him so soon after what she's done. 

        "What are you doing here in the emergency department?" (Y/N) questioned, not bothering if the question sound a bit rude or not; she'll just blame it on the headache if he asks.         

        "I heard from the nurses that you got injured." Andrew explained, rolling his wheelchair up to her bedside.

        "A nurse told you I was here?" (Y/N) questioned, confused.

        Well, that's against hospital policy, giving away patient information like that to just anyone. It made her curious who from the nightshift had the audacity to tell him.

        "Who told you?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "Eh, I don't know. That nurse I had before you." He shrugged his shoulders carelessly, not bothering to remember the name. "It was something something. Started with a P. Maybe it was Pen, or Penny? Or was it Nancy? It doesn't really matter."

        "Penelope?" (Y/N) smiled, almost giggling at his poor attempt to remember the nurse's name. 

        Right, makes sense. Penelope was Andrew's nurse before (Y/N), and Penelope seems to see (Y/N) as a friend, so she probably questioned Doctor Ryan where (Y/N) was. Doctor Ryan must've been informed as soon as he entered the office, considering he wasn't going to be able to teach (Y/N) for a few nights until she got better.

        However, she felt a little happy that he couldn't remember Penelope's name (especially after [Y/N]'s little jealous episode from earlier at the thought of Penelope and Andrew being together. Obviously because she just enjoyed having Andrew as a patient, nothing more).

        "Yeah, maybe that was her name?" he hummed, not bothering to think back if it was actually that nurse or not. 

        Yes, it was Penelope, he might not bother to remember her name, but he remembers her face from earlier when he and (Y/N) had gone to the staff room and Penelope was acting strange. He also remembered how tight and uncomfortable she had done his bandages on his broken ankles, much different compared to (Y/N)'s soft hands and nurturing personality. 

        "She shouldn't be giving away information like that." (Y/N) sighed, chuckling softly. "But thank you for coming."

        It was a little heartwarming to know at least someone cared about her. Even if her parents did, at least her co-worker and close acquaintances did, even reserved patients such as Andrew were worried about her!

        "So, what brought you over here? Did you have a question, or perhaps you need your bandages changed?" (Y/N) questioned, observing his body up and down to see if there was anything out of the ordinary or if he needed any assistance. 

        "No... I just... wanted to see for myself, I guess..." he muttered, looking away from her eyes as he resisted the urge to squirm under her gaze. "I heard you got hurt pretty bad, so I got curious..."

        "You sure you didn't just miss me?" she teased, trying to brightened up or at least lightened the mood into a more comfortable atmosphere. 

        "Don't get ahead of yourself." He chuckled, her words succeeding in her goal as they both smiled at each other.

        His smile softened, his eyes glazing over, seeming to be lost in thought. He seemed unsure of himself, before he just sighed. 

        "So... what happened?" he questioned. "If you don't mind me asking."

        Her own smile faltered, doing her best to remain neutral and not puke her guts out as visions of stabbing Ashley's lifeless body took over her mind, hearing each explicit and disturbing wet splash as her hands slowly started to coat with blood from how violently she was pushing her knife into Ashley's chest, down to the hilt. 

        "I got attacked..." she spoke vaguely, clearing her throat awkwardly as she kept her eyes on him to see if he would believe her. 

        "Do you know by who?" Andrew questioned.

        "No." She spoke quickly, internally cringing at how defensive her tone sounded.

        Andrew's gaze hardened, his intuition not believing her. Of course he wouldn't believe her, living with Ashley basically his whole life had practically made him become a human lie detector. Before he could speak about the matter, she spoke up. 

        "Can you check on Hailey for me please? She was a bit down earlier today, surely you can cheer her up for me? Just don't mention my current condition to her, please." (Y/N) requested, sounding more of a pathetic demand and excuse to get him to leave her alone. 

        Andrew looked hesitant to leave her, before he sighed, nodding his head. "Yeah, sure..." he grumbled. 

        "Thank you." She hummed, giving him a false smile.

        They had a moment to themselves, silently staring at each other, before Andrew turned his wheelchair around and rolled out of the room, closing the door behind him. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief once she was alone, glad to have avoided the tough subject.

        Maybe she'll tell him one day, once she gets to know him better and can be certain he wouldn't kill her for it.

        She ignored the pain as she squirmed into a comfortable position to sleep in. She needed the rest, and sleep is the body's natural way of healing after her. Her eyes trailed to the curtains, watching the cars on the road zoom past the hospitals and watching as some lights started to shut off, night owls getting ready for bed too just like her. 

        She'll call her parents as soon as she gets out of the hospital, even if they've probably not heard the news or care about it, she still wants some sort of closure from her parents. Maybe they'll even take pity on her and stay on the phone for a bit, ask how she's doing, or what she's doing now. 

        Sounds like a plan. (Y/N) thought, closing her eyes as she ignored her body's pain, waiting for sleep to overtake her. 

I know there hasn't been much of any Andrew and reader moments, but chapter 5 will have plenty, these past chapters have just been plot and character-development and such!

My next series will be a Yandere! Hitoshi Shinso x Yandere! Fem! Reader, so keep watch for that!

To the Ashley fans, I'm sorry for what I've done.

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for requests!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, current chapter, Chapter 5 + 6 (in the works)

#stellar constellations #coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves x reader #andy graves x reader #the coffin of andy and leyley #andy and leyley #andy graves #andrew graves #fem reader #x fem!reader #x reader #x y/n #x you #x female reader #x yn #x female y/n #yandere x yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere #female yandere #yandere x willing reader

[unhappy-last-resort]

Astral Desires (Yandere Watanabe x Commandant GN Reader)

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, stalking(?), sneaking into your room without your knowledge, mentions non-con fingering, touches you in your sleep but nothing nsfw

A/N: This was sitting in my drafts for too long. Inspired by that out of pocket secret his astral frame has, that as far as I know, is not given any context or explanation so I assume he's just secretly insane and honestly. Fair.

Not proof read, please lmk any mistakes or improvements.

The lounge was quiet, save for an occasional patrol by the Gray Ravens checking in on their Commandant and making sure nothing was out of the ordinary. They've failed.

Watanabe knows this because Lee hasn't noticed his presence at all and he's willing to bet that he'll leave without checking every nook and cranny. Maybe one day he'll teach him to properly check for enemies without disturbing the Commandant, maybe. Right now though, their lack of awareness made sneaking into your room all the easier.

Lee appeared in his vision once again, doing his final cursory check of the lounge. Watanabe moved with him, staying crouched while evading his line of sight and the lounge security camera until Lee finally exited the room. Thankfully, Babylonia upgraded his Astral frame significantly, replacing his old stealth module with a new one and even adding additional modules and settings to enhance his abilities, turning what was an outdated frame into one that provided him with more of an edge over enemies and proved useful in ensuring a few deals for the Forsaken went smoothly. He should thank you for encouraging him to take it despite his dislike of Babylonia, he thinks to himself. Having verified the coast was clear, and knowing that the none of the other Ravens will make their rounds again for quite some time, Watanabe quickly opened the door to your dorm and entered, silently observing your dorm room as the door shut silently behind him.

Watanabe rolled his shoulders slightly, now he could relax a little more. He stood up straight and slowly walked to your sleeping form, not bothering to hide his presence save for his sound suppression module. You had a thin T-shirt on and he didn't care to guess what the sheets were hiding, he already knew. The artificial moonlight shining through your window illuminated your face beautifully, although he hated that you left the curtains open like that, he had to admit that he never tired of this sight. This was his and his alone.

During the daytime hours you're always putting on a brave face, keeping it together for your squad and others around you so they don't see the way your fingers trembled ever so slightly during the Space Station mission, or your anxiety as you're being shuttled to another mission, wondering if it's your last. At night however, it was different. When you think you're alone you'll let down your high walls and let your shoulders drop under the invisible pressure you always feel with every step. Sometimes you cry, stare at a wall in thought, or write in your journal. Watanabe always liked when you did that, because that's where all your unfiltered thoughts and feelings are put down. He's read every single page more times than he could count. It brought a faint smile to his lips, thinking about all the things he knew about you. You never opened up to him unlike the humans at the Forsaken HQ and his patience started to wear thin after a while.

He couldn't help it. He wanted- no, needed to know you more. Who were you under the heavy title of "commandant"? What were you like before? What would you be doing if it weren't for the Punishing Virus? Would you be happy if you lived on Earth, or do you prefer to live among the stars? Are you loyal to Babylonia or your companions? He wanted to learn so much about you, but you always kept a distance. He could feel it, he could feel an invisible wall you would put up, barring him from getting any closer and from your secrets slipping out, but you...you were like a flower blooming in the desert. Beautiful, resilient, and wonderous, can you blame him? Can you blame him for finally cracking and taking things into his own hands?

He moves towards your window and draws your curtains closed, careful not to be visible from any potential passerby. After all, your sleeping form and all the thoughts and expressions you don't let anyone else see is for his eyes and M.I.N.D. alone. He walks towards your bed slowly, as though he might wake you even though he knew you wouldn't, not even if he pried you open with his fingers. He only knows that because it done it a few times, oh how sweet your soft little whimpers were as you would squirm and writhe in your sleep. The memories tug a small smile out of the corner of Watanabe's lips and his eyes instinctually drag away from your face and down to your thighs at the thought.

Watanabe gently brushes the back of his fingers against your cheek, admiring the way your warmth seeps into his synthetic skin so easily, making his M.I.N.D. hum in satisfaction. He wonders if you'd ever let him this close to you if you were awake, he tilts his head in thought as his fingers brush your skin. Perhaps it's best that you don't, your position as a commandant might be put in danger if you allowed him to display his affection for you this way in public.

He pauses. Affection? Is this really affection, or just obsession at this point? He'd throw away everything for you if you asked him to. He would abandon everything if it meant he could have you, if it meant you'd devote yourself to him the way he does to you. God, if such a thing exists then grant him this one prayer.

Let him stay by your side until your youth fades and your body wilts and withers. And in your final moments, he'll capture your conscious and your memories so he can keep you and protect you until eternity.

Yes. Watanabe smiles softly as he gently lays next you, inhaling your scent and feeling your warmth. You are so naive, so trusting, but it's alright. He'll keep you safe. He's been around for longer, seen the deluge both humans and corrupted bring, he knows what's best. He knows what's best for you, he just needs you to trust him more. Watanabe slowly leans forward and softly kisses your cheek as his nose brushes against your skin.

"I'll keep you safe, Commandant. Even if you struggle against me, I'll make you come to me in the end."

#yandere watanabe #punishing: gray raven #yandere pgr #pgr watanabe #pgr x reader #watanabe x reader #yandere x reader #yandere watanabe x reader #cw noncon #nonhuman #yandere fic #yandere robot #unhappy writings #punishing gray raven imagines #punishing gray raven #yandere punishing gray raven

[1000sunnygo]

From Punk Hazard to Wano and beyond, there were two notable changes in Law.

Somewhere between Dressrosa and Onigashima, he had a massive power upgrade.

Personally, I think Eternal youth surgery is an awakened ability (surgery fruit born from the wish to carry out impossible surgeries -> awakening should be the ultimate surgery to exist) and Law concocted several elements of it to come up with the awakened abilities that help him in his fight. Anyway, it's possible that Law was working on his awakening at Punk Hazard but the sudden decision to set sail with SHs left it incomplete, he only perfected the abilities before the raid at Wano. Other than that, as Rayleigh says, "near death" experiences allow someone to get stronger, which likely helped in his power boost.

And then there's the change in his mentality. There's a subtle but clear character development.

From the beginning, Law's style was to initiate something bold (saving Luffy at Marineford, being the mastermind of rocky port incident, breaking the Gear at Punk Hazard that eventually led to Kaido's downfall).

But then he would step aside and leave the stage for the bigger players - Blackbeard, (Koby), Ochoku for the "rocky port incident", Kaido to defeat Doflamingo. Declaring his faith in Luffy and saying Luffy makes miracles come true, preaching "D's will being another storm" passively as if it applies to someone else and not him, even though he's a D himself.

A shift was taking place during Dressrosa, when he decided to face Doflamingo instead of relying on Kaido.

Taking down Doflamingo was his lifelong goal yet he intended to leave it to others to complete. Only after Luffy egged him on to take matters in their own hand, he expressed his wish to kill Doflamingo.

It started as a "wish" but then he was determined to finish him off even if it's the last thing he does.

I agree with the interpretation that Law's passive mindset most likely stemmed from learned helplessness rather than personal style. Doflamingo had never once spoke to Law as someone more than a mere subordinate, and Law was subconsciously trapped by that identity even after staying away from Doflamingo for over ten years; an astounding level of control.

Only after Doflamingo was out of the picture, Law found the freedom to be a proper Pirate captain. Which helped in the rapid upgrade in aura and power post-Dressrosa.

The quest to search the meaning of "D" was one of the first major missions to carry on by himself, for himself. He didn't propose another alliance, he didn't want to ride Luffy's coattails. He wanted to find the treasure One Piece himself for his own cause, if it meant having to compete the Straw hats for it.

But the problem is, Law had no long term plan for it. He didn't decorate his crew with strong fighters, his style was to take the enemies by himself with his men only providing support. Law appeared to have some confidential knowledge (ie. burn scar man) to place a wager, but it was not enough. The fall of Heart pirates was inevitable.

Since he always kept his crew away from trouble until this point and avoided the spotlight, I wonder if Law knew this would be a likely outcome if they properly exposed themselves. Oda says his characters sometimes act as if they have a will on their own. Curious about where the story takes him from here.

#one piece meta #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar law #one piece #one piece manga #mine

[thewertsearch]

AT: aND, iT WAS A REALLY GOOD EXAMPLE i THINK, AT: oF EXACTLY WHY WIGGLERS SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO DUAL WIELD FLINTLOCK PISTOLS, GG: hehe what? AT: sO, i DID THE LIBERTY OF COMMUNING WITH YOUR LUSUS,

That... looks like pretty fine control to me. In fact, it looks like Tavros is able to remote-control Becquerel in bullet time.

Maybe he's getting some help from Trollian's time settings, but... yeah. I'm going to need to digest the implications of this.

His negligence bit him in the ass in the end.

What in the hell is Grandpa even doing here? Is this part of some Sburb plan? Does the blue lady actually have some significance, or - now, this is just a theory, mind you - is the teenage runaway who collects mummies just a little eccentric?

Like father, like son. I hope this doesn't foreshadow a similar fate for John and/or Jade...

AT: […] i COMMUNED HIM TO USE HIS AMAZING POWERS […] AT: aND REROUTE THE PROJECTILE AWAY FROM THE PATH THAT WOULD HAVE HARMED YOU, AT: aND ALSO, AT: aS A WONDERFUL BONUS AND COINCIDENCE, AT: iT HAPPENED THERE WAS A FELON ON YOUR PROPERTY, […] AT: tHE SMALL MISSILE WAS REDIRECTED INTO THE SENIOR INTERLOPER'S CHEST, AT: aND HE DIED, AT: }:)

Anyway, let's talk about this hot mess.

He did, technically, save Jade's life. (Or, he was the mechanism behind her Alpha-mandated survival, whatever.) On Alternia, he'd probably have saved her life twice over - to him, Grandpa did look like an adult troll, and I'm sure nothing good happens to a wiggler when a troll invades its hive.

But... damn, Tavros. You knew this was an alien culture, and should have known your assumptions wouldn't necessarily hold. Should you really have shot first and asked questions (a decade) later? Jade is - and always was - alone because of you.

We can argue till we're blue in the face about how much blame you deserve for this - but either way, this isn't going to endear you to her. If you do have a crush, I have a feeling your ship's dead on arrival.

Tavros is usually so reticent, so hesitant to act. It's strange that the Alpha Timeline depends on him breaking this pattern, and I'm not sure why he did. Perhaps he can motivate himself when there's a life on the line, and this is just an extremely unfortunate manifestation of that trait.

Also, he appears to have full control over Bec, directing a portal into Grandpa's heart with pinpoint precision. Piercing the mind of a First Guardian doesn't even seem hard for him - he didn't mention expending any unusual effort to do this.

This, of course, opens up countless possibilities - and I'm drawn to a question which just became very pertinent. If Tavros can control Bec...

...can he control his derivations?

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #3051 #s93

[ggomos-maribat]

Escapism: Overshadowing and Intangibility

Part 6.1 of Heirs Apparent | AO3

Masterlist

There was a time when Jason didn't believe in being saved. He knew himself what it was like to cling uselessly to hope, to wait for someone—anyone—to come to him at the right moment. He only believed in relying on himself, to wiggle out of a bad situation somehow until he could get away. Even now, he didn't want to stand still, despite the triplets fiercely battling each other. Yet he felt a sliver of helplessness, thinking that they wouldn't stand a chance against a horde of assassins.

Then amidst the inner and outer conflicts, he finally saw it: the true image of a savior.

By the name of Talia al Ghul.

"Hello, dears." She smiled. "Follow me, I'll lead you to the escape route."

Seeing Talia was . . . a breath of fresh air. During his time with her, Jason wouldn't have expected her to have children. But it wouldn't be surprising if she were protective of them.

"Why should we?" Dick asked warily.

She narrowed her eyes. "Because my children are risking their lives creating a distraction."

True enough, the three were still at each other's throats. When Jason took a look, he saw Danyal on top of Marinette with a knife, while the latter was aiming a rifle at him. But he caught the girl's feral grin when she aimed the gun not at her brother's head, but at the upper deck with the League elders in it.

"You gave them a signal," Tim concluded out loud, eyes wide.

Jason easily followed Talia when she plunged back in the darkness, with his brothers taking hesitant steps behind him. In that situation, there was no one else to trust but her. No, Jason was confident that she would lead them to safety. She guided them back through the winding paths, where there was a trail of knocked-out assassins.

"So . . ." Jason trailed off. "The triplets, huh?"

"Which one have you met?"

"Marinette."

Jason stared at the back of her head. He wished he could see the kind of expression she was making.

"My precious girl," said Talia, "I thought it was better to hide them away."

"I think it was better that way, too."

She only nodded at that. She must've sacrificed a lot . . . Jason thought, to keep her children alive. He hadn't known Marinette (or Danyal) before that time, and she barely talked about her mother. But he saw Talia in her, more than just from her looks. Her snappy remarks were all Talia. Her sharp gaze was all Talia. Her fighting style was similar to the one Talia had taught him.

Hell, even Damian had resembled Talia more than Bruce. And that boy spoke about his mother with pride albeit only on occasion.

They reached the bottom of a staircase when another set of footsteps echoed on the stone walls. Then, a voice rang out from a passage to their right. "Umi!"

Marinette fell into Talia's embrace, head buried on her mother's shoulder. Jason gave some distance for the sake of their reunion, seeing how Marinette appeared so vulnerable.

Talia placed her hands on Marinette's shoulders after they parted. "Listen, my love, I can't be with you the whole way."

"What?"

The woman looked at the path where Marinette came from. "I have to settle things with the opposing faction. But you must escape quickly." 

"But . . . but Damian and Danyal haven't seen you yet."

"I'm sorry, Habibti."

Jason could tell Marinette wanted to hold her back, but Talia headed towards the other way in the blink of an eye. He could see that Marinette was about to follow but he stepped forward to stop her.

"She wants you to get out of here," Jason told her firmly. "You know her. She'll be fine."

Although the tension hadn't left her fists and she still seemed distracted, Marinette stopped herself and continued along the main passageway.

"We haven't seen her in so long," she mumbled, but then shook her head and faced the three of them. "That reminds me, you at least need something to defend yourselves with."

Immediately, she started removing all kinds of weapons on her person (Jason didn't even know how she was able to carry all of it). Tim gaped at her. "How many weapons did you take?"

"Enough."

She tossed a pair of Escrima sticks to Dick, a retractable staff for Tim, and a pair of handguns and small blades to Jason. Jason noticed she kept a small gun and a knife for herself as well. He was reminded of some rumors during his time in the League: there was once an assassin skilled in handling guns, perhaps the best the League had ever seen. Now that he thought about it, no one ever specified that it was a man.

"Where's Damian and Danyal?" Dick asked.

"The separate gates we went into never lead to connecting paths until the exit. An assassin under Mother's faction told us," Marinette relayed. "It got messy in the arena, but we decided to split up so we could rescue the hostages."

"But why return to the same gate?"

She shrugged. "Caught up in the moment. We didn't notice which gate was which so I guess I'm back here with you. If Mother's plans are going well, the others should be on their way out as well."

Easier said than done, thought Jason. There were rumbles heard from afar, scuffles that could only be the clashing of both League factions.

Marinette glanced behind them. "There are assassins following. Let's hurry."

The dark path seemed unending but they picked up their paces, going straight. Footsteps began to sound out louder—Jason knew they'd have to fight back.

The girl in front of them gasped. "A dead end?"

Before Jason could move, Marinette turned back, pushing past them. "I can hold them back."

"There's too many. We'll help," Dick offered.

"No. As soon as they're caught off guard, go and find another path to the exit."

"We're not letting you handle all of them on your own," Jason insisted, "You'll definitely die. It's not fun dying."

She scoffed. "I've died thirty-six times, Jason. You're not special."

". . . What?"

Gunshots rang out of the blue as Marinette wounded the assassins one by one with a careful aim. Yeah, there's no way in hell we're leaving her here, Jason decided. He lunged for an attack, facing their assailants head on and using his knife on them. His brothers followed suit, much to Marinette's voiced protest.

Suddenly, an assassin stopped on his own, pausing as if paralyzed and suddenly banged his head on the wall to drop down unconscious. Others mimicked the same movement though doing so one by one.

"What the fuck?" Jason heard Tim whisper under his breath.

"Danny?" Marinette lowered her gun.

"Oh you rang?" The voice of a child echoed in the tunnel just as the last body dropped. "Wait, you mean Danny with a 'y'?"

As if the day couldn't get stranger, a little girl materialized in front of them from a wisp of . . . something otherworldly, yet strangely familiar to Jason. The only way he could describe her is that she looked like a younger version of Marinette.

"Ellie," Marinette blinked in surprise. "You're Ellie, aren't you?"

The girl, 'Ellie', crossed her arms while looking at Marinette. "How do you know my name? How do you know my brother?"

"Because he's my brother, too."

What? Jason's head was spinning.

"Danny doesn't have other siblings," Ellie narrowed her eyes.

"That you know of," Marinette said, "For now, you just have to trust us, okay? We have to get out of here."

"But Danny and Jazz—"

"Should also be on their way out," Marinette cut her off. "Do you know how to get out of here? Did you come here alone?"

The little girl grimaced, "Ehm, technically Sam and Tuck are with me but I just got ahead of them. Oh! But I met Batman and these two cool heroes on the way here. We split up after we connected comms but I lost the signal."

"Batman? You met Batman?" Dick repeated.

"Uh, yeah the old man."

"The two heroes, who were they?" Marinette's face twisted into a frown.

"Viperion and Ryuko!" Ellie's blue eyes practically glittered. "They were really cool. I want to be like them."

When Jason looked at Marinette, her face was unreadable. On top of that, Jason didn't expect Bruce to actually come to the base on his own without backup.

"Are we not going to talk about how you two look alike?" Tim chimed in. "And what the fuck just happened? Did those assassins just . . . die?"

"Oh yeah, we do look alike." Ellie's eyebrows raised, like she had just realized it.

"Um, hello?" Tim poked an unconscious assassin with his foot. "Are they dead?"

"I overshadowed them."

"Over-what?"

Meanwhile, Marinette sighed and rubbed her head. "It's a long story but not my story to tell. We should focus on getting out of here. Ellie, do you know the way out?"

"It's over there." Ellie gestured towards the supposed dead end. "That wall actually opens up."

The child glides past them and disappears into the wall. Jason had to do a double take. A few seconds later, the wall makes a rumble and a portion of it slides to the right to reveal a narrow opening.

"Um, again, what the fuck," Tim stared at the new pathway in astonishment.

Marinette's shoulders visibly sagged in relief. "Thanks, Ellie. We have to hurry; more assassins might be behind us."

----

Danny was pretty sure the boom they just heard was an explosion. He ran through the shaking tunnels, feeling the dust sprinkle on top of him. They want to stop our escape, he cursed inwardly, and also the other faction. Looking behind him, he could see the three Parisians running their breaths ragged.

He closed his fists. If things get worse, I might be forced to transform. Them too.

"Umm, does this count as an emergency to transform?!" Chloe shrieked after another cacophony of blasts reverberated.

"Save your transformations," Danny told them before Adrien could reply. "We don't have a way to recharge your kwamis if your timers run out. I'll protect you."

"Are you gonna enlighten us how?" Alix asked.

Danny was planning to make up a lame half-truthful explanation when they saw that their path was obstructed. Rubble covered up the entirety of the opening, creating a dead end in the small passage.

"Is there another way out?" Adrien breathed out.

No . . . we'd have to come back all the way where we came from. Danny clenched his jaw. Mother's attendant said this was our only path.

"I can transform and Cataclysm—"

"No." Danny made his voice firm. "We don't know the extent of its destruction. This whole tunnel might collapse . . . I have an idea."

He gulped down his uncertainties and turned around to face them. "Everyone hold hands. We're going through this."

Alix tilted her head. "What? Have you actually lost your mind?"

Danny held his hand out. "Just trust me on this, alright? It's the only way."

The other hesitantly formed a link: Alix at the rear, Chloe in front of her, then Adrien taking Danny's hand. The blonde boy seemed to recoil a little when he felt his skin. "Um . . . your hand's really cold."

Despite the situation, Danny chuckled. "So I've been told." He checked the path where they came from in case there were pursuers. "Listen . . . whatever you do, don't let go."

Chloe huffed. "That definitely doesn't sound ominous."

"Just relax. This'll be quick."

Tugging the group forwards, Danny turned intangible and passed it on to the rest. They swiftly walked through the rubble, reaching the other side of the blockage. Fortunately, the rest of the path seemed open.

"What the heck was that?!" Chloe gawked at their surroundings.

"You can let go now." Danny ran a hand through his hair. "It's a power of mine. It's hard to explain in detail right now but it has something to do with me being half-ghost."

"I'm sorry, half-ghost?" Adrien's eyes widened.

"This and that happened and now I'm half-dead," Danny smiled, looking at their different reactions. Adrien looked like he had just obtained a puzzle piece about an oddity. Alix was looking at her hands, muttering to herself. Chloe's expression said something like 'am I being ridiculed right now?'

"Don't think too much about it—"

Danny stopped, sensing a presence ahead of them. A presence nearing them. He moved forward, ready to shield the others if things turn south, then he saw who had just approached them.

"Damian?" A gravelly voice rang out.

Danny calmed his stance. "I'm not Damian."

Batman seemed to have reacted but he kept silent. Danny wished he could see behind the cowl. Sure, I wanted to meet him someday but Ancients, why now?!

"Huh, you are shorter than I expected, Mr. Batman sir." Danny gazed at the masked figure of his biological father.

"That's really Batman?!" Chloe whispered behind him.

"We're currently headed to the exit," Danny explained with a steady tone. "The others are separated but they should be on their way out too. I'm Danny and these are Adrien, Chloe, and Alix."

Batman, too, took on a more professional demeanor. "You match the description of the ones who went missing in the bus incident. But the ones I came here for—"

"I said they should be on their way out too, old man." Dami-akhi wasn't kidding when he said the old man was crazy stubborn. But then again, we all got it from him. "You're not getting through that rubble. It's blocked. So please escort us to the exit, 'kay?"

"How did you get through?" Batman pressed on.

". . . It's a secret." Danny put a finger to his lips. "Can we get a move on now? This place can go kaboom any second you know."

The vigilante finally relented, turning the other way to lead them along the path. Danny could hear the three conversing among themselves, debating why Batman would go through the effort of rescuing the Wayne children in a faraway location.

"Do you know an 'Ellie'?" Batman asked suddenly.

Danny stiffened for a moment. "Ellie? Ellie's here?"

"Yes, we met at the entrance and split up at a fork along with two other heroes, Ryuko and Viperion. I lost contact with them a while ago as well as the Batplane, which Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley are piloting."

This girl . . . He didn't expect her to actually get herself involved. And Tucker and Sam are here too?! A part of him wanted to tell off Batman for not stopping them, but he knew how persistent they were. Especially Ellie, who was an entire force to reckon with on her own.

Tucker and Sam are piloting the Batplane. Ancients, my friends are crazy.

"Shit. Ryuko and Viperion are here too?" Adrien caught up with Danny's pace.

"Parisian local heroes?" Batman asked.

Adrien held his tongue and looked away. Danny made a mental note to help steer the conversation away from the topic of Paris and Miraculi if anything came up.

"I have to ask you as well, Daniel, what your relation is to Damian Wayne and Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

Wow, interrogation time already? Danny let out a scream of frustration in his head. Can we, like, escape from here first?

"It's just Danny." He kept his expression neutral. "And isn't it obvious, Batman? They're my siblings." 

#maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #bio dad bruce wayne #dc x miraculous #danny phantom au #dc x danny phantom x miraculous #heirs apparent #triplets dami danny and mari

[rogueddie]

Stranger Things: The First Shadow

This is going to be a full review; starting with production, some characterization issues and some of the plot holes.

But, before I get into the spoilers, I would just like to clarify my biggest issue; these characters are not the same characters that we see in the show. Every play demands suspension of disbelief, but it was completely impossible with this play.

I knew the play would be bad when I got my tickets. I didn't think I would have a bad time watching it.

warning; I am about to level a truly gruesome amount of critisism at the stage show. if you liked it, I'm glad you did; this is just my opinion and experience xoxo

My Review:

The production was, physically, beautiful. The designs and use of space was extremely well done. Some of the ways they used the screens and projections was stunning. It had the potential to add a lot to the story.

The sets are easily the strongest part of the production. The use of screens, levels and painted background- especially in the introduction- were stunning. It doesn't feel overwhelming and it makes it almost easy to remain engaged in both scenes playing out at once.

The design for the lab, too, is extremely well made. Having a box that can be rolled onto the stage is the perfect idea for the scene- it appears even smaller thanks to the contrast with the larger stage and the bright lights in white walls, the set feels ominous.

Unfortunately, the production ended up sabotaging itself. They default to special effects, screens and pyrotechnics to create the experience instead of trusting their designs or actors. It makes it seem like they are trying to hide their designs instead of enhancing them.

The introduction scene is the perfect example. The smoke machine initially added to the scene, it added an element of reality that could have drawn the audience in.

But, with how the smoke machine was overused, it ended up hiding the second set used in the "boat scene". In the stalls, I could barely see anything and was drawn out of the show completely and immediately- instead of watching a play, suddenly I'm worrying about whether I need to get my inhaler or not.

They overused everything. The screens were used so often that I have to wonder why they didn't just make a short movie instead of a play.

Similarly, the pyrotechnics were immediately overused- the first scene should not be making me wonder if you are using all of the visually compelling tricks in the first five minutes. But to keep using them at the same frequency? It makes it seem like you are more interested in making something look cool and care very little for the story you are supposed to be telling.

The lighting and music was simply poor. Half the time I couldn't hear what the actors were saying due to the music blasting at a painfully loud volume and, in scenes where the actors are clearly giving a brilliant performance, they are so poorly lit that they might as well not bother.

The poor lighting was very similar the show though. Props to them for managing that horrendous feat.

The directing definitely didn't help. The actors use of space is so poor and unnatural that, at least, I hope it was the director.

The lab set, for example; the actors both left the box set made. Henry's character roams the entire length of the stage, which makes the small lab set feel entirely pointless. His character never feels trapped or in any way boxed in by the box set. Instead of adding to the scene, it takes away- it's a giant set design that is ignored or takes up space in a way that is obtrusive.

On a positive note, I would like to point out that most of the actors did a phenomenol job. But I would especially like to emphasize how well Anika Boyle, Christopher Buckley, Oscar Lloyd, Louis McCartney and Isabella Pappas did. I can't wait to see what they do next.

Unfortunately, they're brilliant performances could do nothing to save a script that had already doomed them and their characters.

Doctor Brenner is easily the biggest problem when it comes to the characters. I'm not sure if it was the actor, the director or simply the writing, but he is the worst part of the entire play. He has no discernible motivation, none of his actions make sense with his character- if he can even be called a character. The show twists him so much that he becomes a caricature that bares no resemblence to the Doctor Brenner we see in the show.

Throughout the show, he's constantly encouraging Henry to kill. Literally, he verbally tells Henry to kill people. It's completely different to the sly and manipulative Brenner we see in the show- and not in a way that would make sense for him to have evolved from the stage Brenner to the show Brenner.

"Kill her," Doctor Brenner, The First Shadow, 2k23. Why does he say this? Uh... he wants the big scary interdimensional monster. Why does he want that? Uh... HEY, LOOK OVER THERE, PYROTECHNICS!

Henry Creels issues mostly stem from plot holes and retconning well established canon. In the show, he is not a victim and that fact is made abundantly clear. It's not that he's tricked into thinking he's in control, he simply is. The stage show tries to completely turn that on it's head and make him the poor little victim to something that, in canon, he made.

If he was a different character, or if we are to take the stage show as an au of sorts, I think he's pretty well written. His motivations and powers are well established. We, as the audience, understand his thought process. He is a believable character... even if the 'siezures' do often come across as nonsensical, borderline silly.

Hopper, Joyce and Bob were almost perfect too. It's something that has been slowly irritating me more and more- they could have easily been the protagonists, taking attention away from plot holes and poor characterization. They were strong enough as a trio and well written enough to be- almost- convincing.

I'm not sure how to explain my issues with Hoppers character in the show without it boiling down to 'dissappointing'. Nothing about the arc he goes through makes sense to me and it feels like the show forced him into the ending he had simply to remind the audience of the show, despite it making no sense with the story or arc that his character went through during the show.

My issues with Joyce are both- it breaks canon for her to know so much, so intimately, and her ending is also incredibly forced. The budding enemies-to-lovers that she had with Hopper also led to the ending feeling unsatisfying. It feels like the growth is for nothing.

The characters in the background too, somehow, are full of just as many flaws.

Claudia is the perfect example. When her cat is killed by Henry, she is immediately ready to start a literal witch hunt. She's insistant and frequant about it. There's even a small scene where she is seen to be irritating with how much she brings up her witch theory.

Yet, she stops talking about that very suddenly. She doesn't express as much as distaste for the play- about witches and killing. She's actually excited.

Her pets death and her character are important, but only until the plot demands she be quiet so they can move on, hoping that the audience will somehow forget this somewhat major B plot.

I could go on forever about the characters. A lot of the plot holes stem from how poorly they're handled and how much they immediately change to fit the narrative around Henry. None of them act like people and the play does not treat any of them like they, as characters, matter at all. They are just people to fill the space whilst Henry and Patty have a love story.

But, even then, the characters the play seems to care about are completely mishandled as well.

Joyce, in her introduction, spends most of in trousers and a bra. She's supposed to be a student in high school. It feels weird to ask your audience to watch someone standing on a stage in their underwear whilst also asking them to believe she is underage. It is so incredibly uncomfortable to think about. She didn't need to be topless for as long as she was.

Pattys ending made no sense. She died, but also she went to see her mother. So... she's alive? But also she's dead. But she's there, physically, so she must be alive... but also it's made clear that she died.

Eleven being 10(ish?) in the end made no sense with the timeline. They reduce characters to badly told jokes; Ted the idiot and Karen the blonde "slut".

I don't have the energy to go over the plot. There are so many holes and problems that it would take forever to deal with act one alone.

But, to summerize; this play had a lot of potential. There are parts that were almost brilliant and there are a lot of incredibly talented people working on it behind the scenes. The way all of that talent and potential is wasted for something as simple as lack of effort in the writing and directing? Dissappointing is not a harsh enough word.

0.5 / 10

#stranger things #the first shadow #tfs

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Snippet Thursday

I'm revamping Demolition Trio a little because I decided the boys needed a second dog 😆

It was still a novelty for all three of them, waking to find that someone had saved food for them. Not just saved, but prepared! Mar scrambled into the antechamber that connected his room to his father's, racing to the table with an excited trill. Jak and Daxter, by contrast, stumbled and shuffled their way in like sleepwalkers. Daxter's head thudded into the table and he groped blindly for the tiny cup of coffee that Sig had set out for him.

This was a point of great contention between him and Damas. Damas was of the opinion that having an animal body meant caffeine was bad for Daxter. Sig, on the other hand, insisted that dark eco only altered the outer form, not the internal structure, seeing as Daxter didn't get sick from drinking alcohol. These debates usually ended with Sig insisting firmly that Damas trusted his judgment regarding "his" rookie.

Jak picked up a tin cup and squinted at his warped reflection.

"Do I have a mark on my forehead?" he asked Damas, yawning, "Tell me honestly."

Damas liked half-awake-Jak. He wasn't reserved or feigning disinterest and bravado. In fact, he seemed to lack any sense of ranks, titles, or even that they were relative strangers to each other, early in the morning. Jak seemed to act on an instinctive trust -- a deeply encouraging sign. He acted like the child he was, or should have been, when he wasn't fully awake.

So Damas leaned forward and brushed hair from Jak's forehead to look.

"Well, let me see. I don't see...ah. That almost looks like a bruise. Have an encounter with the doorframe on your way to breakfast?"

Jak grumbled. "Had an encounter with somebody's tiny foot in the middle of the night. And nobody's confessed yet."

With a sympathetic chuckle, Damas poured a cup of coffee and passed it to his elder son. "Well if a bruise forms, you can match it to the suspects and find your culprit that way," he suggested teasingly.

"Nooo!" Jak groaned and batted his hand away. "It'll look stupid!"

Mar reached for a slice of hydromelon and took a huge bite. With juice dripping down his hands and chin, he signed, "I don't think it was me! Because I was sleepin' and that's how come."

"Dude, have you seen how you sleep?" Jak demanded.

Mar frowned. "No? Because I was sleepin!"

The force of the laugh he was suppressing left Damas wheezing. He reached over to tousle both boys' heads at once. "You're a mess; I love you," he snorted.

Mar beamed, dripping and sticky. Jak made a sound like a broken fog horn and plastered the coffee cup to his face. It wasn’t likely that he knew the statement had been aimed at them both.

Give it time, Damas told himself, Don’t be impatient. Let him adjust. Let him learn to trust kindness before you expect him to understand.

Having someone else be responsible for cleaning up a four year old barbarian who shunned forks made life much easier, in Daxter's opinion. Unfortunately for him, Mar appeared to miss his quality time tormenting Daxter. The moment Damas had finished fighting him out of his sticky pajamas, the little boy leaned on the table next to Daxter with a wide grin.

"Daz."

One of the only four words he liked to say aloud. "Da" for Damas, "Za" for Jak, "Ih" for Sig, and "Daz" for Daxter. And hearing it in that tone always heralded trouble.

"Ye-esss?" Daxter peered over the rim of his cup to eye the sticky toddler suspiciously.

"Daxxer, wanna help me make a tower today?" Juice sprayed from his fingers with each sign, dripping down Daxter's face.

Right in front of the world's most intimidating dad. Like he actually had the option to say no. Dangit, the kid was picking up Daxter's tricks a little too well. Grinning weakly, he sighed, "uh...sure, pal. After you put on clothes."

Damas snorted. "You're not obligated to babysit, Daxter. But I would appreciate someone keeping an eye on him for a few minutes. I need Jak's help with something."

Jak frowned. "You do?"

Possibilities raced through his head. Marauders? Storms? Reassembling the cheap set of drawers Daxter and Mar demolished while "racing" said drawers down a set of stairs?

He didn't expect to be taken to a bookshelf in Damas’s chamber, and shown a hidden door. This was obviously something he didn't want Mar seeing. Why was he bringing Jak?

"Do you trust me, son?" Damas asked abruptly.

"Um...I mean, yeah?" Jak mumbled. He tried not to cling to the word son too tightly. Tried not to think of Sig gently telling him "You have a family too, if you want it."

"Good." Damas stepped into a hidden elevator and beckoned him in. "There's something I want to give you. I think it will be a great benefit to your fight the next time you visit Haven."

Visit. Huh. Jak was just starting to notice that Damas went out of his way to avoid talking about Haven like Jak lived there. It was just a place he visited. He seemed to want to think Spargus was Jak’s home -- and he probably wanted Jak to think that, too.

The lift deposited them in a cavern, filled with the echoing bays of hounds, and Jak suddenly had an idea of what Damas meant.

Now, Jak hadn't been familiar with crocadogs before meeting Mar. And until Sig told him they used to be battle-mounts, he'd just assumed Chopper wouldn't get much bigger than a Lurker Hound.

Chopper’s mother was much.

Much.

Much larger than a Lurker Hound.

She had to be eleven hands at the shoulder, with a head approximately as broad as the jet board. The half grown pups around her leaped and bayed, snapping powerful jaws the moment they spotted Damas. For just a moment, Jak's steps faltered. Why would Damas bring him down here? Didn't Sig say Ghost hated anyone who wasn't Damas?

"Ghost!" Damas whistled sharply and held out a hand.

Ghost surged out of the shallow pool like a tidal wave, bounding up the incline in less than three steps. She pulled up short, seating herself expectantly in front of Damas with a stern "WURF!"

Damas cocked his head at Jak. "Well?"

He placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him forward a step.

"Go on, let her get your scent."

The next thing Jak knew, he was flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him. Roughly 400 pounds of pure muscle pinned him down while he was nearly deafened by excited barking. Ghost licked his face, wurf-ing and digging her cold nose into his neck.

"Gah-!" Jak shoved the huge head to the side, laughing. "Gross! Knock it off, girl!"

Looking oddly smug, Damas clicked his tongue. "Ghost, off," he commanded.

The massive predator whined and blinked sad brown eyes at him, and he laughed. "Oh? Is Jak one of yours now?"

"Wurf!"

"Now dear, we've been over this: four-legged pups are yours, two-legged pups are mine."

"Harroof!"

"Well, alright. Chopper was an exception. You needed a break."

He clicked his tongue again.

"Don't break Jak. You're not a lap dog, you know. Go on, there's a good girl."

Reluctantly, Ghost moved and let Jak sit up. He wiped the slobber from his face with a good-natured groan and looked up just in time to see the two largest juveniles bounding toward him. He had time to widen his eyes and mumble an expletive, then the dogs crashed into him.

"Ack!" Jak hit the ground for the second time as two male pups yipped and whined, apparently intent on physically merging with his torso.

"You gotta be kidding me-"

Damas stroked Ghost’s ears fondly and grinned. "Those are Chopper’s brothers, Rip and Tear. They've never been as interested in people as Chopper, Snap, and Maw. I thought for sure Maw was going to be the first one up here."

The smug look returned, crinkling his eyes at the corners.

"Obviously they recognize family."

"Which -- ow, watch the paws! -- which one is which?" Jak wheezed.

"Good question." Damas squinted at the tornado of scales and fur. When this yielded no clarity, he reached out and collared the nearest dog to hand to get a good look at him.

"Ah. This one is Tear. He's got suction cup scars across his chest from an ill-advised scrap with a squid."

Jak managed to push himself into a sitting position, sending the other pup flopping across his legs. Well. Clearly standing up was out of the question for the moment. He reached out and traced Tear's scars.

"Poor guy," he sympathized. "Did you win, though?"

"His mother did," Damas answered, "and one can only hope he's learned to choose his battles a little better."

Tear wriggled free of Damas’s grip and pounced on his brother, instigating a short-lived game of chase before nipping playfully at Ghost. Ghost was not amused. With a gentle warning growl, she headbutted the rambunctious juvenile, sending him tumbling. In an almost sulky posture, Tear decided to redirect his play-aggression to his more interested sisters. Rip, meanwhile, circled back to Jak again and clamped his jaws around one of Jak's gauntlets. With a quick shake of his head, he ripped the glove off of the boy's hand and bounced into a play bow, tail thrashing expectantly.

"Rip!" Damas scolded, "Drop it!"

"Wh- hey!"

Rip did not drop it.

The second Jak stood up, the young crocadog bounced again and took off running. With a shout of dismay, Jak scrambled after him. Damas patted Ghost’s side and took a far more sedate pace down to the edge of the pools to check on the other pups. He could hear Jak’s complaints beginning to lapse into laughter behind him. Good. He hadn't forgotten how to play.

"Good luck back there," Damas called, "I haven't had the opportunity to run the dogs in a day or two. Rip has a lot of energy to get out."

#jak and daxter #jak and daxter au #Demolition Trio au #fic prompts #writing prompts #free day thursday #snippet thursday #dadmas #king damas #crocadog #Ghost is the size of a haflinger horse #Rip and Tear are named for Doom #Snap and Maw are named for Horizon Zero Dawn #Rip is going to go to Haven with Jak and develop a taste for red armor #Damas still doesn't know if Jak remembers him or not but he's trying to win him over 😆 #Mar continues to be chaos and Sig has stepped in to dad Daxter in Osmo's absence

[boba-tea-addict-1004]

🔥The Fallen Angel 🔥

Saving Kyojuro in the Mugan train arc

Rengoku x Gender Neutral Demon Reader

⚠TW: Angst! like a crap ton of it and Major character death!! ⚠

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"I want you to hurt like you hurt me... i want you to lose like i did and more. i want you to suffer like i did. i want to hurt you and i want to enjoy it." those were your exact words. as kyojuro gazed at what you become.. eyes that used to hold so much light and hope is now shattered and filled with hate and pain. so much pain.

how did it get this way? how did things get this bad...

May as well start from the beginning...

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You and Rengoku used to be friends.. maybe you even considered him as a possible partner at some point...

but that bridge was burned a long time ago.

You and Kyojuro were on a mission and the aftereffects were.. disastrous. Half of the city was destroyed and in the end there were many casualties.

Kyojuro spent hours trying to find you and eventually the kakushi had to force him to leave to prevent further injury. they never did find your body..

Kyojuro thought you were dead for the longest time and this tore him to shreds. it wasn't till two years later he'd meet up with you by chance again. when he first laid eyes on you his face lit up and his first instinct was to run to you and hug you tightly... but the moment he noticed your... changes did his smile fade and his heart break.

"Miss me?" you say sinisterly.

"Y/n... Y/n your- your a-" he clenched his sword "WHY!!" his voice broken and hurt "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT THEM NOT JOIN THEM!!"

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you abandoned me!!"

You then explained how the moment the buildings fell you fought every second to see his face again. you spent two years in a hospital in Tokyo alone and every time you sent a letter they were sent back. still the very idea of being able to see him kept you going. to see his smile and hold you the moment you were to lock eyes again.. but instead, the moment you set foot on property of the flame estate his father informed you to leave. even throwing you out himself when you refused. Senjuro and Kyo were out in another town so there was no way he could have known..

"KYOJURO DOESNT WANT YOU!"

"Wha- what do you mean" you squint

"He's engaged."

Kyojuro knew shinjuro had plans to set him up with a girl in another town but he never thought his father would go this far. left alone with your thoughts you wondered the streets. your bones were sore and you spent whatever yen you had left in your pocket on food. as you sat outside eating your Tokoyaki a new feeling began to bubble and your thoughts were racing. things that didn't matter before suddenly had new meaning in your deranged head. you somehow came to the conclusion that kyojuro secretly hated you.. for the longest time and had planned on leaving you to die there..

you tried to shove that idea out of your head but that's when muzan appeared. Muzan had a way with words and when you were heartbroken, delirious, broke and alone anything sounded good. so when he asked you to become a demon...

you took it.

Kyojuro was stunned and felt sorry you had to go through all of that. he couldn't stop thinking about how one thing had been different than everything would have been different for you.

"I want you to hurt like you hurt me... i want you to lose like i did and more. i want you to suffer like i did. i want to hurt you and i want to enjoy it."

Though the battle ended with you running away dew to the sun.. those words were seared on his heart. and he never forgot.

Time passed.

You would meet again and again. and battle.

He'd almost win some and You'd almost win others..

but it always ended the same way...

you'd run before it'd even finish.

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**Present Day**

It was nighttime and you were walking by the train tracks. as you did you kicked a few rocks. suddenly you smelled something.. blood. as you ran to see what it was there was another familiar aspect that night. you felt fire.. not burning but the heat of it. mixed with the battle aura of a strong warrior.

'there is no way.'

Kyojuro was standing there panting and it was clear how many crucial hits he took. in front of him was his opponent. Upper three Akaza. this. this was an unfair fight. as a demon you knew exactly what he was capable of and akaza held the rank FAR longer than kyojuro has been alive. it was clear cut in your mind who would win.

Yet... he still kept going... his aura strong as ever...

a small exhale left as you watched. flashes of your human life flipped in your mind. memories of you two sparing flashed along side the fight, the moves almost synched. Kyo took his eyes off the battle for a moment and he saw you. this caused him to smile.

"WHAT!!" you felt almost stabbed through the chest with shock. after all this time he still smiled at you. out of all the times you tried to kill him he smiles at you warmly...

The only reason you clung to your humanity was pure rage and so you'd remember the pain...

but that wasn't the only reason...

part of you still wanted to hold onto the fondness of those joyful memories. remember the sparkle of his eyes and his face.

it was then something clicked. you had to step in.

right when akaza was about to punch Kyojuro's stomach kyojuro felt something push him to the ground. 'what on-'

the moment the dust cleared He was shocked. Akaza tried to free himself but you held him firmly

"WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!!"

"I'm not letting you leave."

"Let go!"

"No!"

Akaza looked over and saw the sun was rising "Let go!"

"No."

"YOU FOOL!! YOU REALIZE THE MOMENT THAT SUN RISES WE DIE!!"

"oh I'm counting on it." you smile at him not taking your eyes off him for a second. Kyojuro struggled to get up using his sword at support while Tanjiro and Inoske ran over attempting to cut his head off. Akaza looked around and saw. he was in checkmate. you used you demon strength keeping a hold on him and refusing to let go. Akaza used his leg to kick you back at kyojuro's feet and he swiftly ran off.

"Coward!" you call out to him then look up and saw.. the first light of day.. you felt as you began to turn to ash all the while your body still was regenerating the hole in your stomach. you cry out in pain covering your face as if that'd do any good. you look up and see kyojuro attempting to shade you and block the sun. you continue to cry slightly from the pain. kyojuro whispered to you "hey it's okay.. it's okay.. i'm here..." his voice sounded like a whisper almost. he kneeled down covering you more and holding you in an embrace.

"I'm so sorry... i never meant any of that stuff. i don't hate you and i never did!!" you confess.

"i know.." he simply says holding you tighter.

"r-really?.."

he nods

"...so... we are still friends.."

"...more than that... if you'll still have me"

your eyes fill with tears, and you hug back swiftly "Yes. of course yes.." you smiled as you began to fade. Kyojuro held you tighter trying to hold back tears.

"i had forgotten how beautiful the sun was.."

"Y/n please.. i- I CANT LOSE YOU AGAIN!!"

"live. do me a favor and live. they need you.. the hashira and the corps.. they need you... but me... you don't need me..." you sigh feeling your face began to fade and you close your eyes

"I DO- I DO AND I-"

you winced and kyo put you head in his chest try to delay the sun longer "Promise me! PROMISE ME THAT IN ANOTHER LIFE WE'LL MEET AGAIN."

"...wherever you are.. i'll find you.. i promise" you smile softly then... nothing.

Kyojuro held your body tight till nothing was left and all that was left was the clothes you were wearing and your haori. he cried a lot after that, till his stomach hurt still holding your haori.

'Y/n... you always mattered to me'

So ends the story of the fallen angel..

-The end?..

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A/N: should i make a part 2 (them in the next life). also i tried a new format do ya like this more?

if you enjoyed please reblog

#demon slayer #kyojuro rengoku #fanfictoin #kimetsu no yaiba #tumblur fics #angst fanfic #angst #kyojuro rengoku x reader #x reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #nonbinary reader #nonbinary #i was feeling angsty today okay #i'm so sorry

[2n2n]

So things are very changed now, so I was wondering, do you think it's possible for things to magically go back to the way they were before like Hanako-kun going back to being the 7 mystery and Tsukasa being his yorishiro? Or will this reality simply never exist again? So this means this could be tbhk's last arc, but it feels like there are still so many questions left unanswered 😢

I think you, and, other people panicking, really need to stop and take a breather, and remember how... stories work. How narratives operate.

even a mediocre and poorly planned shounen manga would typically not suddenly pivot in the middle and retcon everything! Do you think JSHK appears poorly-planned or made-up-on-the-spot? PERSONALLY, in my experience with AidaIro's works, they have a TON of integrity with regard to story themes and character motivations. Iro-sensei really, REALLY desires for readers to come to UNDERSTAND characters. Iro-sensei was a sobbing mess on the publication of JSHK, because they were scared people would not LIKE it, and thus, they would not get to continue to unfold the story. They LIKE their characters a LOT! They want you to UNDERSTAND Yugi Amane, Yugi Tsukasa, Yashiro Nene, etc etc!! Deeply, and truly!

While a lot of shounen are filled with nonsense-of-the-week and neverending organizations of dozens of villains showing up without connection or significance, I would argue that JSHK has none of that. We've been on the same exact journey from the very beginning: we want to understand Yugi Amane, and we want to save him.. .whatever that means.

You need to lean back in your chair and let AidaIro-sensei whisk you away! You need to trust that it will take time, but, that there are answers in AidaIro-sensei's notebooks to everything.

No, the story isn't ending right now! No, that reality is not gone!

To me, this kind of panic is like....

if Picture Perfect began, and you worried, "oh no, Hanako-kun is our villain now, we're fighting him, will he ever be our hero again?" or "oh no, we're stuck in a fake reality... will we ever go back to the real world?"

Or, if during the Severance, you worried, "oh no, the near and far shore have been severed, will we never get in-school shenanigans ever again?" "oh no, Aoi is dead for good..."

In reality, this arc-- like every arc-- is going to be a way for you and I to see new angles on the characters we love.

We already knew Yugi Amane created an aberrant future, and we were intrigued by the notion of school teacher Amane from the 'original' timeline. Finally, we are going to SEE that timeline. If we DIDN'T do this, we'd feel something was missing! Everyone has long been curious about THIS reality! We've been desperate, haven't we?? We've been wishing to understand this thing described in VOLUME 3. This isn't scary at all, it's satisfying!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We're finally here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To have a fully rounded perspective on the Yugi twins, we need to see this world. For Nene-chan to truly understand HER Amane, she needs to grasp WHAT EXACTLY AMANE DID to CREATE the reality she has been in up until now. We're literally going to investigate the EXACT MOMENT that leads to "Hanako-kun", our lover lol. Until we know that, do we really know "Hanako-kun" at all?

Personally, I want Nene-chan to be INVOLVED in the CREATION of that reality we love. I want to know what role Tsukasa plays in all of it, too.

The reality we have been in was someone's choice! We won't understand the gravity and precision of that choice without seeing it FIRSTHAND. This is not a SCARY event, this is a RELIEVING event-- we will gain perspective!! Nobody should be afraid of that, seriously!

This is what we, the readers, want! And this is how AidaIro-sensei want to show it to us. Very directly!!

We're all very curious about the shinjuu, the Yugi twin's past. What if we could go to that moment, and SEE it? What if Nene-chan could witness it? What if she could set it into motion? These are the kinds of things to be potentially looking forward to.

The manga is called "Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun". We would never do away with "Hanako-kun". That's self-evident!

#avvy's JSHK

[princess-ibri]

So!! I think I've finally figured out how I'd chose to being Concept Art Elsa into my DisneyVerse. Ive wanted to for a while as I really liked her design and the more spunky vibe we got from her. So here we go!

I always try to use an actual fairytale base for things in my DisneyVerse when I can, so I've based her new backstory off of a couple of wintery stories, the Russian fairytale Father Frost, and a different Snow Child story then most think of, where a woman apparently gains a child by swallowing a snow flake--which is where this story begins:

Once upon a time a Merchant's wife, who had longed for a child for many years but never been blessed with her wish, happened to swallow a snow flake while staying in Arendelle for some months while her husband traveled. Unbeknownst to the woman, this was on one of the days when the former Queen Elsa was visiting her old home and entertaining with her magical snow--snow which had unknowingly created Life before...

9 months later, the Merchant's Wife gave birth to a child with skin as white as snow, hsir as black as a winter's night, and eyes as blue as the deepest ice. And though she was always much colder than a child should be, the deepest chill never seemed to bother her in the slightest, and she loved nothing more then to spend hours playing in the snow when winter came.

Unfortunately the woman was not so blessed, and one winter in the child's third year she took ill from ataying out with the child in the old and so died, leaving the merchant alone to raise a child he was never sure or not was his, and either way he felt had cost him his wife, and so gained his ire. He married again a few years later, to a wealthy woman with a daughter of her own, with skin like a peach and hair like sunshine, everything the Snow Child was not, and who gained all the affection of their parents, leaving the Snow Child to be neglected and shunned.

But the Snow Child had a secret, she not only felt more at home out in the snow than in a house before a fire, but she found she could control the snow as well. Sending gusts where she would and calming or increasing it according to her moods. For a few years she was able to hide her powers, but eventually her step-sister discovered her secret, and told her mother.

The woman, who had never cared for her strange step-daughter, now feared the child as a witch, and conspired to be rid of her once and for all.

The next time the family traveled together on a journey, the woman sent the Snow Child out in the dead od night under the pretext of an errand, and before the child could return packed up and moved the family out of the town, leaving the child alone and abandoned in the snow and the darkness as a storm swept in.

But she was not alone for long...

For that night the Snow Queen Elsa traveled in the storm, and she saw the child left out alone, ragged and bare footed. She swept down to save the child from freezing to death--only to find that the child didn't appear troubled at all by the cold surrounding her. The Snow Queen came closer, and sensed something of her own power surrounding this strange child left in the snow, and she knew then she could not simply take her to the nearest kind villager to be tended to...

And so the Snow Child came under the care of the Snow Queen. She was given the run of the magical ice palace where the rest of the Snow Queen's creations dwelled, where she was the most content and where she could learn to harness her powers under the Snow Queen's tutelage and watchful care...

So yeah! Thats the set up for my story for Dark Haired Elsa, who I'm thinking of calling Flykra, which means Snowflake in Old Norse according to the internet x)

I see her as being a very feisty and outspoken child as soon as she actually feels safe to be so, and a bit of a handful for Elsa who really never expected to be anything more then the Cool Aunt to Anna's kids. I think she and Elsa get along fairly well overall but there's definitely tension that comes up from both of their past trauma's bouncing up against eachother. Especially as Flykra hits her teenage years and her powers start to grow even more.

But there's a lot of love between all the family still, and Flykra loves getting to hangout with her new cousins and the Northhuldra and the trolls and just getting into good clean trouble now and then.

I'm definitely seeing this concept art by Claire Keane as Asta and Flykra hanging out now x)

(This would all start a couple of years after my Frozen 3 idea. So my DisneyVerse Frozen Franchise Timeline would go

Frozen - 1843

Frozen 2 -1846

Frozen 3/Frozen the Series - 1847

The Snow Child - 1866 (Flykra is 17)

East of the Sun West of the Moon - 1870 (Asta is 18)

The Snow Queen--1950s

#my art #disney #DisneyVerse #frozen #elsa frozen #frozen concept art #elsa concept art #my ocs #disney ocs #canon descendants #disney descendants #asta and klaus #frozen 3 #the snow queen #the snow child #fairytales #east of the sun west of the moon #claire keane #disney concept art #frozen ocs #flykra

[dotster001]

Paradise Lost

Summary:this is the sequel to Anzu. She can't hide you forever, especially when he already knows you're here. Based on the Enstars self aware au by @yandere-daze

Cw yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation

A/N: I knew I was gonna write this, but I didn't expect to do it so soon 😂 yay me I guess. Enjoy my brainrot.

Part Three Four Five

Anzu had explained things more fully to you in her apartment. Apparently, time worked differently here and you had been gone for weeks. Everyone else, had been relieved and eventually stopped coming to work, but Anzu had stayed in hopes she could feel your presence one last time.

"And I did! It's a miracle I never dared hope for, to have you so close to me!"

She had told you that for your safety you should stay in her apartment until you could find your way back. She had also told you that to keep up appearances, she would have to keep going back to the building you had found her in, or else everyone would know.

What both of you hadn't realized was how many mistakes Anzu had already made in the short time you two had been there. Mistake one was leaving in the first place. Mistake two was forgetting that Mayoi found comfort in dark quiet places. Mistake three was that some rather wealthy entities had constant access over the cameras.

Mistake three was the most damning. Your date was sealed the moment you had set foot in the building. Anzu had simply delayed the inevitable. Eichi had found you.

You were terrified to leave the apartment. Anzu had laid it on quite thick, and you'd grown just as dependent on her as she was of you. She loved it. She felt needed again, and it was great, even if things were different now. She felt bad that she had to lie about all the idols, but they all loved you too much. And they would take you away, she just knew it. So it was better this way.

She came back to her apartment one day, however, and instead of finding you, she found Eichi sitting in your seat. She felt herself freeze up.

"Good evening, Anzu." He said calmly. 

"Hi," she could barely speak above a whisper.

"I saw something very interesting on the cameras the other day."

She couldn't bring herself to speak. 

"Our beloved Y/N, who has been missing for weeks, is in our world. Isn't it wonderful!" He gave her a meaningful look. "Naturally I found them, and have relocated them to a safe location. You see, when I found them they were so frightened, they were shaking like a fawn. I can only imagine what they've been through."

He stood up from his seat, and leaned down so that his lips were pressed directly in her ear.

"You were out of line, producer, and now you must pay the penalty for it." He stood up straight again. "I think it's best for Y/N if you two never see each other again."

He left her apartment without another word. Anzu collapsed in on herself and cried.

                                     ….

Eichi approached you in your room. You were cowering in the corner, sobbing.

"Please don't hurt me, I didn't know…"

He pressed a soft finger to your lips.

"I could never hate you. Anzu was manipulating you, but I'm here to save you."

You started shaking your head furiously. "No, she said that…"

He gently pulled you into his arms, hushing you until you stopped crying. You were still shaking though. That would be something the doctor's could help you with, later. 

"It's alright. I know it's hard for you to see it right now, but this is for the best."

But as Eichi held you in his arms, he realized something. It didn't matter if you never realized it was for the best. He could never live another day without your presence. 

It was too late for you.

#yandere enstars #yandere eichi #ensemble stars eichi #tenshouin eichi x reader #anzu x reader #yandere anzu #ensemble stars #enstars

[ur-fav-inactive-writer]

𝐈𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐞

Request by anon | Shelby Watkins x Reader

WC: 1147

You were training with the rest of the rangers, you were the white ranger. At the moment, you were practising combat with Shelby. You were trying, you really were, but Shelby kept overcoming you. She pinned you to the ground, with a light giggle as she did. You fake-laughed along with her, not showing how embarassed you felt. Shelby was your best friend of all time, she was like a sister to you, she could tell somethiny was off with you at that moment. Shelby just assumed that you were having an off day and were tired which is why you were acting so strangely. In reality, you acted this way because you were the weakest of the rangers.

There was nothing that you hated more than the fact that you were the weakest of the bunch. All of them were so very strong, you on the other hand, weren't. It made you wonder how you became a ranger in the first place.

How are you meant to save the world if you can't even stand a chance at beating your friend in combat???

Brushing yourself off, you stood up and collected your things while deciding to head back to the cafe. All the rangers looked at you quizzically,

"(Y/N)," Tyler said in between pants "where are you going? We only just started training."

Tears stung in your eyes, you had no excuse to be so weak. You had only just started training, there was no reason for you to be so tired and so unable to beat your friends in combat.

You were just weak.

"Oh, um... I'm not feeling great so I'm gonna head back to the café, if that's alright?"

They all gave you the okay to leave, along with wishes that you'll feel better soon. You began the walk back to the café, taking deep breaths to stop the tears falling. You didn't understand why you weren't stronger, you tried everything you could to be as tough as the rest of your friends but nothing worked.

As you were walking, you heard some strange sounds. You ventured through the woods where the sound was emanating from and saw your fellow rangers attacking vivix. For some reason, you couldn't help but feel... betrayed? How come they hadn't notified you? Sure, they thought you weren't feeling well, but surely they should have told you, right? Hastily morphing into your suit, you ran over to join the battle.

"Lady (Y/N)? What on earth are you doing, I thought you weren't feeling very well?" Ivan questioned. You shrugged off his question, putting every bit of your energy into fighting. Once all the vivix were dealt with, the real monster came into sight. Your team began to attack, you saw the monster charging up an attack directed at Shelby. Heck, if you can't fight, you may as well take the hit so Shelby can, right? Without thinking twice about it, you leaped in front of your best friend, taking the hit. Screams emerged from your mouth at the searing pain in your body, you didn't expect it to hurt that much.

"(Y/N)!"

The collective shout of your name from the rangers was the last thing you heard before falling unconscious from the excruciating pain

~*~*~*~*~

The rangers panicked, they didn't know what to do, they decided Shelby should get you back to the base where Miss Morgan would take care of you. Once you were back at the base, Shelby could go back and help them fight. As they settled on this, Shelby picked you up and began to rush back to the base. She couldn't help but wonder why you had done that, surely she should've just let her take the hit. Her thought track was cut short once she realised she had arrived back at the museum. Kendall was outside waiting for her, and took you from her arms. Kendall ushered Shelby back to the battle and reassured her you'd be okay in her care. Shelby knew that you would be fine whilst beint cared for by Miss Morgan but something in her wouldnt let her leave your side. The rangers would understand and would be fine without her anyway. Kendall set you down on a bed and began tending to your wounds. Keeper also appeared and put a spell on you to ensure your wounds would heal much quicker. Shelby sat at your bedside, anxiously waiting for you to wake up.

~*~*~*~*~

Your eyes gently fluttered open. Based on the fact the base was still pretty empty you assumed that it couldn't have been too long since you were knocked out. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you heard your best friends voice.

"Hey, (Y/N), how are you feeling? Don't move too much, you could trigger some pain from your injuries."

You slightly rotated your head to the side, your gaze falling on your guilty-looking best friend. You just murmured out a quick 'I'm fine', still feeling absolutely exhausted and sore from the injuries you'd obtained.

"(Y/N), why did you jump in front of that hit for me?"

You fell silent. How did you respond to this? You felt your eyes swell with tears, just thinking about the whole ordeal. Shelby's eyes filled with concern at your expression. She questioned you further, urging you to answer. You took a deep sigh before you began to speak,

"Well, I guess I just feel... inadequate, compared to you guys. You're all so much stronger than me, I'm far too weak to be a ranger. I just thought, well... if I'm not much help im a fight then I may as well shield you from a hit so that you could keep on fighting... yknow?"

Shelby sucked in a small breath, her expression conveying so much guilt and sadness at your state. She couldn't believe you felt this way, even if you weren't as strong as the others,- you were still super tough. She leaned in for a gentle hug and began to speak softly,

"The energem chose you for a reason, (Y/N). You're super tough, don't ever think you're too weak. Please, don't ever take a hit for me again, I can't stand to see you like this. Neither can the others, we're your family. If you ever need extra help in training, just let us know, we'll do everything we can to help you feel stronger."

Your eyes swelled with tears, not exactly sad tears but you just had so many emotions you couldn't hold in anymore. You squeezed her tighter, her hugs always felt like home to you. As you pulled away from her, you heard the others come down the slide. They all walked into the room, overjoyed to see you awake.

"(Y/N)!"

You smiled weakly at them as they all rushed over to hug you tightly. Shelby warned them against being too harsh but they couldn't help but all want to hug you

"Feeling better now?"

Your eyes flickered up to Shelby briefly before responding.

"So much better."

~*~*~*~*~*~

(A/N: Writing this whilst I should be sleeping. Oh well. Hate this but hope you enjoy!)

#ur fav inactive writer #dino charge #power rangers dino charge #power rangers dino charge x reader #dino charge x reader #shelby watkins #shelby watkins x reader #tyler navarro #tyler navarro x reader #ivan of zandar #ivan of zandar x reader