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rysko · 4 months

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Kings of Spades - Part 4 l Luca Changretta x M!OC

Summary: Juliusz is stuck in a limbo of not being useful enough to Tommy and, to his inner dismay, impatiently awaiting any 'orders' from the Italians. That changes when he visits a work colleague...

Previous Chapter

Warnings: mentions of drug usage, Peaky-typical swearing and violence, minor death

A/N: It's heeeeere!!! This chapter went through SO. MANY. rewrites. It's mostly a set up for the next few chapters (i cannot wait to share them with yall, there's so many scenes i've been waiting to write :>) I hope ya'll like it. Have fun!

(the occasional use of Polish/Italian will be translated at the end of the chapter, while Polish will be directly translated by me, Italian is with the use of google translate, so sorry if there's any mistakes)

It was a slow morning in the Small Heath office. At this hour, only a few people were clocked in. Thomas and Juliusz, on account of being known early birds (or insomniacs for that matter), were already at their respectful places, getting the first points off their to-do lists. Curly visited for a short while, but only to update Thomas on a newly birthed foal.

“A really nice horse, I’m telling you, Tommy! The beautiful reddish coat she has, and nice strong legs!” He rambles on as both he and Tommy exit his office and walk by Juliusz, assembling some files at the main entrance desk.

“That’s good Curly.” Thomas smiles ever-so-slightly.

“We’re thinking of naming her John, as a tribute.” Curly looks at Thomas in anticipation, clearly more excited than anyone else.

“...How nice.” Thomas chokes back a laugh, glancing at Juliusz in an almost ‘help me’ look. The Pole isn’t having any of it.

“It’s not like the horse cares, unless you’ll call her Esme?” Juliusz smirks at Thomas, then proceeds to throw a small smile in Curlys’ direction.

“Then she’ll come back and butcher us before the Italians do.” Thomas sighs through his cigarette, clearly fighting off a smile. It’s nice to see just a bit of tension ease, especially after yesterday. Thomas damn near interrogated Juliusz after his ‘truce’ meeting with Changretta, only to be left disappointed, and somehow even more paranoid, after he learned that no crucial information has been found out.

He’d never admit it, but some part of Juliusz impatiently waited on a call from the Italians. Where he was right now was a limbo, overwhelmed with emotions from the evening before, mixed with the tense atmosphere of Small Heath all wrapped in… Uncertainty. He didn’t know anything of importance to Tommy, and Changretta was as enigmatic as ever in letting Juliusz know his use. He shook his head to snap himself back into reality as he opened yet another novel-length document from the worker unions, despite his thoughts going everywhere but labour disputes.

There’s still work to do. He doesn’t need to be glancing at the telephone every minute.

With Curly leaving the office in an almost giddy step, Thomas turns to go back to his duties. With a raise of a heavy document, Juliusz stops him.

“What will you do about Jesse Eden?” The lawyer repeats, it might as well be the 100th time he’d asked his employer that question since the communist representative started sniffing around the Shelby factories.

“What about her?” Tommy stood next to Juliusz’ desk in a relaxed pose, hands in his pockets, a hand-rolled cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

“She’s not making these strikes easy for the company. I thought you’d deal with her already, a revolution is coming.” He plops the file back on the desk and reaches into his jackets’ inner-pocket, taking out his cigarette tin and a pack of matches.

“I thought you were on the workers’ side.” Tommy replies in his usual smug tone, one that he uses whenever he thinks he’s got someone figured out. Juliusz fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“I’m a Shelby Company Limited employee first, whatever i believe comes second. I don’t need drunken men frustrated with their life running around the street with guns and bayonets. And i’m sure you don’t as well, Thomas.” He slides the tiny box open to reveal just one match left. The oddly comforting smell of burning sulphur reaches Juliusz’ nose as he lights his cigarette.

Working for the Shelbys these past few years has been fulfilling, and in some ways he’s been considered part of the family. This deranged, insane, unhinged and frankly dysfunctional family, always within punching distance as well as earshot.

It happened by accident. One minute you’re just a newly hired company lawyer in the Garrison after hours, the other you’re screaming “DUCK” to the oldest Shelby, as Irishmen flood the place with knives in their hands, IRA songs on their lips, and an inconceivable amount of alcohol in their blood. A drunken brawl, which frankly Juliusz wouldn’t expect to go that well, ended in only a few bruises on the brummie side. He rubbed his hands in pain, as he thought that he’s definitely going to regret that throughout the next week. Juliusz’s trance was paused by the first pat on the back of many…

“I knew i knew you from somewhere.” The surprisingly jolly (and honestly, probably as drunk as the Irish on the ground) Arthur Shelby squinted slightly at Juliusz, trying his hardest to pinpoint his face to any he might know. “Me brother hired you, right? From Solomons?”

“I wish i’d get introduced to you under better circumstances, Mr. Shelby.” He greeted him politely, as best as possible, while catching his breath after the fight. His hand reached for a handshake.

“That’s the best circumstance there is! Just a couple of lads, fighting about.” Arthur slaps Juliusz’s handshake away, only to pat Juliusz’s back again, making some of the broken glass on his shoulders fall off. “Call me Arthur, would ya? You took out this bastard's tooth for me, i’m no Mr.” He kicks a laying man, not sure if it’s a beaten IRA associate, or a Peaky Blinder who's celebrating early by taking a nap on the wooden floors of the Garrison.

“I could go for another right about now.” Arthur looks around for any more fiends he could beat up without any consequences. “Harry! Have we got any more Irish?!” He shouts, filling the whole room with his voice, despite being only a mere few meters from an unamused barkeep.

“Only Irish whisky, ‘m afraid.” Harry smiles smugly in Arthur’s direction, looking up from searching for a broom to start cleaning this ruckus with.

“Eh, it’ll do.” He grumbles as he reaches over the bar to grab a bottle. “Do you want any- uh...?” He looks at Juliusz like he’s trying really hard to remember something, his voice now surprisingly polite. The Pole observes him with a curious glance. He’s different than people described him. Sure, unhinged was the right word some workers used. That man is unhinged, but only when the situation calls for it, it appears. There has to be more to that seemingly simple man, and he’s nice enough, Juliusz figures. Not many people wanted to get to know him (not that he complained, at least vocally). A foreigner with a learned London accent probably doesn’t spark a lot of trust.

“Uh, Juliusz.” He joins his side at the bar, glancing briefly over his shoulder at the Irishmen on the floor, unconscious, and the locals getting back to drinking the day away.

“Yewl…” It’s not rolling off his slightly intoxicated brummie tongue well. “How about Jul?” Arthur suggests as he pours two heaping glasses of whisky, seeming proud of himself and the nickname he thought out.

"Good enough," Juliusz shrugs and tries to fight off a chuckle.

“You seem like y’don’t get out enough. You’re a Blinder, look like a fookin’ egghead, but a Blinder nonetheless!” They clink their overflowing glasses together, both spilling a bit on the floor and hands. “What do you do in our company anyway?” He takes a big gulp of the whisky.

“I’m the new company lawyer.” Juliusz says, trying his hardest not to sound as excited as he actually is, but his eyes have been sparkling with curiosity and ambition ever since he stepped foot in Small Heath. Sure, most would think London to Birmingham is a downgrade, but going from a law advisor at an illegal ‘bakery’ to a company lawyer in a successful, legal business is quite the leap, at least for him.

“Oh jesus, an egghead, i was right.” Arthur choked-laughed on his drink, while Juliusz responded with a raised eyebrow, wanting to signal annoyance, but couldn’t help laughing along with the oldest Shelby. “I have to take you out to drinks with Michael, this kid’s right up your alley. John too, a bit less in your alley, but he’s a fun bloke, and also…” Arthur rambled on, and Juliusz surprisingly found himself listening. With a small smile on his lips, he reaches for his matches, and lights his and Arthurs’ cigarettes.

“I’m taking care of it.” Thomas tries to shut down the conversation.

“In what fashion, exactly?” Juliusz’ tone is starting to sound annoyed. Can’t Tommy for once in his life not speak in half-assed riddles? “I can take care of it if you need me to. I’m sure we can find something on her.”

“I’m planning to meet Miss Eden and discuss the whole dispute, and come to a conclusion that benefits us both.” Thomas says the whole plan directly to the wall, words spewing out of his mouth with grey smoke, not even appearing to consider his employees’ offer. Juliusz studies him for a few seconds.

“That’s a very long way of saying you’re going to stop the strikes with your cock.” He points his hand lazily in Tommy’s direction, cigarette held between his middle and ring fingers.

“Did Ada tell you that?” Tommy finally looks at him, then makes a sound which can only be described as something between a chuckle and a scoff.

“No. Has she told you something similar?” Juliusz raises an eyebrow whilst taking a drag of his cigarette. “I’ve always thought she’s very bright.” He lets out. Something inside him tells him he should let go and stop his remarks, but he’s frankly too annoyed with Thomas and too stressed to let it out in any other way.

“It just works.” Tommy breathes out.

“Thank God most judges are repulsive old men, you’d have put me out of a job otherwise.” He smiles smugly. Thomas only responds with a prolonged, empty stare.

“Did anyone call?” Tommy changed the subject, clearly done with whatever their conversation was up until now.

“No one you’d find important.” Juliusz sighs, deflating slightly. Closing his eyes, only opening them to look at the telephone again.

“If they do-”

“I will! For gods’ sake.” He snaps back, his hands tightening into fists. Tommy doesn’t seem impressed, his icy blue eyes seem to change in a way, as if switching approaches.

“I have an appointment with Ms. Ross in a bit, let her in when she comes.” His tone is fake casual, as he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray resting atop Juliusz’s desk. Tommy leaves in the direction of his office just after that.

“What am i? Your secretary now?” Juliusz whispers-shouts after him, not earning a response.

“Niewiarygodne.” He mutters to the now empty room, his only companion being the ever-present floating dust that came with the betting board. He sighs and buries his head in the crook of his elbow, only to immediately glance at the phone in anticipation.

Silence. What is he even expecting?

Juliusz takes a deep breath. His fists are shaking slightly. This time, he’s not sure if it’s the stress or his body asking for some more snow, even if he promised himself he’d use it less, out of necessity. It could be his hands acting out, again. He closes his eyes tightly.

Pull yourself together.

An otherwise soft hand riddled with faint freckles and birthmarks, and a big, jagged scar going through it’s back, reaches towards the stack of paperwork once more.

**************

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but Juliusz was suddenly taken out of his work trance by the sound of the front door opening. Glancing at his watch, he saw that only an hour has passed, still early, for most.

Out of the corner, he saw the frail figure of a woman, who after a brief moment of thought he recognised as Ms. Ross. She looked quiet and unassuming, almost like a mouse. Juliusz signed the last piece of documentation with a swift motion of a fountain pen, before standing up from his chair. Ms. Ross looked around the office warily, before her gaze rested on the lawyer that stuck his head out of his office.

“Can i help you?” He stepped in her direction, straightening his jacket.

“Oh. Yes, you can. Where can i find Mr. Shelbys’ office? I’ve got an appointment.” She asks, but seemed on edge, though Juliusz couldn’t blame her. Civilians hardly ever relax in the vicinity of the Peaky Blinders, especially Thomas.

“It’s just straight on, there’s a sign on the door, can’t miss it.” He nodded in the general direction of Tommy’s working space, shooting her a polite smile, to which she responded with a nervous grin and a rushed ‘thankyou’ as she headed for Thomas’ office. He saw her off with his gaze, then proceeded to look around the Small Heath office, people steadily turning in and starting business, mostly revolving around betting. All his paperwork for the day was done, he was only needed for a meeting in one of the factories, yet he still felt like he forgot to do something. Another look at his watch reminded him, midday. Michael should be able to answer the phone right about now.

With a quick spin and the hospital address, he waited next to the mounted telephone, leaning against the wooden, dusty walls.

“...Yes?” Rang a voice from the other side.

“Michael, hey.” Juliusz put the speaker against his shoulder nad cheek. “How’ve you been?”

“Julius! Better, i guess.” Juliusz heard something that seemed like someone getting up from the rusty hospital beds. “Haven’t heard from you in a bit, old man.”

“Old man?” He laughed. “I’d like to see you call Thomas that, i’m barely his age.”

“He’s my supervisor,” Michael quips. “We’re basically equals, Company Accountant, Company Lawyer.” He drags on, his tone visibly amused.

“Equals? Don’t forget who helped you study for your Worcester course, because it damn well wasn’t Tommy.”

“I still don’t know what i need risk analysis for.”

“That’s what I thought in university as well. And i haven’t used it since.” Both laughed, Michael’s voice disturbed from time-to-time by the telephone signal. “Uh, listen, i’m calling to ask you. Is it fine if i come by tomorrow?” Juliusz changed his position, now more hunched over the telephone.

“Fine? Sure you can, yeah. The only people that come visit me are mum and Thomas, and both pester me about me having to rest, not work.” This earned an eye-roll from the lawyer, it seemed like everything Michael did was work. He didn’t blame the kid for having ambitions or being loyal to the company, but he didn’t want Michael to get all his life-satisfaction out of work. He knew that all-too-well.

“Because they’re right. You got shot. I’ll only bring a few things you need to sign, but other than that, i’ll bring you nothing but my fun-loving spirit.” Juliusz said, sarcastically.

“Sure, you will.” Michael chuckled, then cleared his throat. “Would you bring me some whisky? I haven’t-”

“No. I know what kinds of pills they’ve got you on.” His voice turned stern, with a mix of concern. “You can’t mix that with alcohol, even i know that. It’s like snow.”

“Speaking of which, will you need any?” Michael asked with genuine intent, casually, as if he’s telling his colleague about a cigarette.

Out of a corner of his eye, he could see Ms. Ross leaving the office, pale as paper.

“...No, i’ve stopped.” He was met with silence from Michael. Juliusz sighed. “Really, this time.”

“That’s good Jul, i won’t tell you anything.” There’s a silence for a few seconds, then Michael says again, softer. “How about some Morphine? For your hands, i’m sure i can sneak some from the nurses.”

“Oh no, i’ve heard what Morphine did for Thomas.” Juliusz sighs. “I’ll be fine Michael, don’t get into trouble on my behalf. You worry about yourself kid.”

“Tommorow?”

“Yeah, i’ll see you.”

Like clockwork, Thomas rushed out of his office, almost as if experiencing tunnel-vision, only coming to a halt when he sees Juliusz put down the telephone receiver. Before he could even say a word, the lawyer stopped him.

“It was Michael.” Juliusz tried his best not to sound annoyed, which didn’t work almost immediately when Thomas gave him one of his empty, blue stares, which usually meant calculating distrust. “Fucking hell, shall i call him again and let you ask him yourself?” He remarked, in an ironic, tired tone. He felt like he’s a teenager with overbearing parents. Only Juliusz isn’t dealing with a worried mother, but a grown man.

“Very well then.” Tommy said in one big exhale. “Do you know where Arthur is?"

“Haven’t seen him today, i’d call the other office if i were you.”

“I’ll go there.” He nods, immediately turning to leave. There was something about the way he was acting. Rushing step, wider, more alert eyes.

“What’s happening?” Juliusz takes a step after Thomas, confused. “What did Ms. Ross want?”

“Nothing important. I’m dealing with business.” He raises his hand as if to signal ‘stop’.

“What kind of business?”

“Blinder business.” Tommy reaches for the door and opens it, looking over his shoulder. “Nothing important to you.”

The door closes with a silent click, leaving the office almost devoid of sound. Juliusz takes a deep breath, releases it, and after a moment, puts down the telephone speaker way harder than he should’ve.

***************

God, he hates this office.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Small Heath, everything about it, except this old betting shop turned office. He’s worked here temporarily only two times. Once, when the plumbing in the Company offices made the floors flood with sewage, and since the Italians came to town. Somehow, Thomas seems more full of shit now than then.

Juliusz packs the last things he needs for the hospital and checks the clock, almost an hour to go. Just as he was finishing packing up for his visit at the hospital when, just as yesterday, Thomas stopped by his desk on his way out the office.

“Where are you going?”

“I could ask you the same question.” He deadpans, but when his remark is met with the same icy stare, Juliusz sighs. “I’m visiting Michael in the hospital.” Thomas only nods and turns to leave without a word, again.

“Where are you going?!” Juliusz bitches after Thomas, frustrated and angry.

“Business.” This time he doesn’t even look at him, too occupied by whatever’s on his mind, which looking at him, you could immediately deduct the ‘Shelby mastermind’ was hard at work in that brain of his.

“Oh fuck off, what if i need to reach you?” He glanced at the telephone, not sure if willingly. “What if they call?”

“They won’t.” He says over his shoulder, making Juliusz even more perplexed. “Close the office after yourself, will ya?” And there he went, and Juliusz felt like he’s the crazy one. Is he the crazy one, or is Thomas slowly rubbing off of him?

It took everything in him not to release his frustration on the poor flowers Linda helped him pick out for Michael. Instead, his walk to the hospital took him ten minutes, instead of the usual twenty.

****************

He pushed the door open with his back into the sterile, but oddly home-y room. The strong strands of sunshine rested atop the wooden table, hospital bed, and Michael himself, who immediately upon hearing the door open looked up from a file.

“I come in and see you working again, i’ll burn those reports in the chimney.” He sighed as he laid out both his briefcase and a large paper bag on the table, along with a small bouquet of flowers. Michael slowly approached the table and sat down, immediately inspecting the mix of dandelions, yellow roses and sunflower petals.

“These are nice, but i’m afraid i like you only as a friend.” The younger man said with a teasing grin, but still put the bouquet next to the ones his mother and other coworkers gave him.

“Very funny.” Juliusz rolled his eyes, but still chuckled. “Whatever will my foolish heart do, the man twelve years my junior doesn’t reciprocate my very true and real feelings.” He exaggerated a theatrical speech, receiving a laugh from Michael.

“What’s there?” He points to Juliusz’s briefcase.

“Some documents regarding the budget, you only need to sign them.” He hands them to Michael, figuring it’s better to get the ‘official’ part of his visit over as soon as possible. The boy signs them one-by-one with identical motions of his pen, then slides them back to Juliusz. “Thank you.” The lawyer says, stuffing them back where he took them from.

“Here, they’re from my mum.” Michael tosses him a red-green apple, which Juliusz barely catches. “Uh, the other mum.”

“Oh my god, these are delicious.” He’s not sure if they’re that good, or if his body will accept any kind of breakfast as an ambrosia. He takes another bite, nope, they’re that good.

“I know!” Michael bites into one as well. “You can’t get something like this from the city anymore, they don’t smell like coal.”

“True.” Juliusz nods. “The city ones aren’t as juicy.”

Silence, a pleasant one, for the first time since that drink with Changretta, which says a lot about what kind of tension was rising in the office. Michael looked as if he was internally debating something, a thin line appearing between his eyebrows, which year-by-year grows thicker.

“Tommy came by recently.” He blurts out finally, looking to the side. Oh, that makes sense. He’d have to know sooner or later, Thomas must have taken it upon himself.

“He told you?” Juliusz was almost sure he knew what Michael meant.

“Yeah.” He nods. “How’ve you been getting on with the Italians?” There seems to be the smallest glimpse of concern in Michael’s tone. He leans forward in his chair, but tries not to disturb his wound too much.

“Somehow better than with Thomas.” Juliusz sighs. “He seems so paranoid around me now, how can i actually help when i don’t know anything? Not to mention that i haven’t been able to give the Italians anything more than he permits me to, useless documentation that Changretta doesn’t even need.” His fidgeting with the apple stem makes it snap.

“What did you want from Changretta in exchange for Tommy?” he throws the apple core in a bin nearby. “From the Italians’ perspective, at least.” The smallest of smirks appears on his lips.

“...My life. My name was on a bullet.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Juliusz didn’t want to say anything about Michael or anyone else being involved in his ‘truce’ with Changretta. They don’t have to know, the only thing that matters is that they’re safe for the time being. “It isn’t anymore, for now.” As if on instinct, he put his hand in his jacket’s inner-pocket, along with the tin cigarette holder and a pack of matches, the cool sensation of a bullet stood out. He took out the cigarettes, only to be stopped by Michael.

“You can only smoke on their balcony.” He nods towards the nurses’ room. “How about you go and I look at what else you got for me here?” Michael winks and reaches into the brown bag on the table, his eyes widening when he sees the whisky bottle hidden between some clothes Polly packed for him and a few treats.

“Hey, that’s only if you don’t drink it after taking your meds, got it?” Juliusz slaps Michael’s hand away as he stood up.

“Mhm.” He hums, still looking at the amber bottle like he’d definitely drink it the second Juliusz turns his back. A stern glare from the Pole makes Michael roll his eyes. “Yes, i won’t drink it after the pills. You're the best.” Juliusz nods approvingly and takes one last big bite from the apple.

“You wouldn't say that if i didn't get it for you, you brat.” He says with his mouth full. "I'll be back."

“Some of the nurses here are really nice, chat one of them up, i’m not going anywhere.” Michael takes this opportunity to rest his feet on Juliusz’s chair, already ogling the work-related papers.

The balcony in the nurses room was fortunately open to all visitors, looking over the back of the hospital. The last nurse on break was a clearly overworked middle-aged lady, for whom he was happy to light the cigarette. Even more so when she had no intention of initiating conversation or offering any unnecessary and costly treatment. As Juliusz slowly enjoyed his cigarette, his mind wandered back to the peculiar item in his pocket.

Hm, at least they spelt it correctly, was the first thought he had when Juliusz held up the bullet, the sun reflecting its gold-brown metal and grey scratches. He rubbed his thumb along the bullet, before hiding it again. He looked up at the sky.

Is it midday already?

BAM!

Juliusz, as if on instinct, ducked and covered his head.

Nothing. After the shot, the hospital was surprisingly quiet, only the sound of a few footsteps, crash of a door, and the muffled cries of the nurse next to him. The footsteps ceased just next door.

Oh no.

Michael.

He shushed the nurse and took out a small handgun out the holster strapped to the small of his back. Out of the balcony, he had to force himself not to sprint and bash into Michael’s room. Warily, he made his way down the corridor, passing next to a shot Peaky Blinder. The bright wall behind the poor man now a glistening, bloody mess. The smell of fresh blood was sickening, Juliusz looked away and took a deep breath, just like they taught him. Just as he approached Michael’s door, he heard muffled voices, more accurately, A muffled voice. He slowly comes closer, as he hears whoever was inside approach to the exit

Step He raises his gun to eye-level.

Step He focuses on a spot where a person would have their head.

Step, click He takes a breath as he hears the door open-

Step- A figure steps out, he disables the safety with a loud click, which makes the man perk up. An all-too-familiar man. It’s Changretta, Luca motherfucking Changretta. He slowly raises his hands, but doesn’t seem too bothered by the gun pointed at him. Juliusz could swear that for a brief moment, Changretta appeared surprised to see him, only to once again put on his usual smug demeanour.

“Ferenz! Fancy seeing you here.” He stepped forward, motioning the other men he was with to follow. “I was actually gonna call, but-”

“We had a fucking deal.” He growled

“And it’s not broken, the boy’s fine.” Changretta vaguely motioned in the direction of Michael’s room. Loud voices rang outside the hospital, sounding like people trying to break the hospital’s doors open. “Now if you wanna shoot me, be my fucking guest, but do it now before your idiot friends get here.” Juliusz came forward and shoved the Italian back a step, and looked inside the boys’ room. Michael was fine, merely shook, looking between his friend and the Italian at his gunpoint. He could just shoot him, be done with it. Everyone would be happy. Yet, when he imagined the blood splatter from the Italian’s head, and the life drain from his already dark eyes, his body at the place of the man he passed in the corridor, he felt a tug inside himself, and couldn't find on what to blame it for this time. Ferenz sighed and took his finger off the trigger.

God, why is he so weak

“Go.” He stepped back and nodded at the corridor. He felt angry, not sure if at himself or the smug bastard in front of him, who took his granted freedom and used it to rush forward where Juliusz motioned.

“You’re goin’ too.” As Changretta passed him, Juliusz felt a tug, this time at his shoulder when he was basically dragged along with the Italians.

“What?!” He basically shouted as they sprinted across the corridors, though he was less sprinting, and more being pulled to their step.

“I need you for something, c’mon.”

“Why? What does ‘something’ mean?” Juliusz finally twists himself from Changrettas grip, but still running side by side with him. “What did you want with Michael?” They pressed their backs against the corridor wall, just before two turns, left and right.

“This and other fascinating questions will be answered in the car, my friend.” Luca replied as he looked around both corners. “Now don’t get your panties in a twist. Which way?”

“Oh go fuck yourself.” Juliusz muttered. “Left.” He followed up immediatly, which was only met with a chuckle from Changretta as they ran for the exit, with a black Rolls Royce already waiting for them.

*****************

If someone told Juliusz a week ago that he’d spend his afternoon squished between two Italians in the backseat of a car, he’d laugh at you, or maybe he’d assume you meant a totally different kind of encounter, which would also be paired with a laugh.

But now, with the man on his left, Matteo and the nuisance on his right, who was in the middle of reading a newspaper, Juliusz truly felt like fate is a very bored man dead-set on making his life hell. Maybe if Matteo didn’t confiscate his gun the second they were out of the hospitals’ viscinity, Juliusz would again briefly think of shooting both of them, or himself, he hadn’t yet decided.

“Will you finally answer my question?” Juliusz mutters, still looking ahead, arms crossed. The outside view of endless forest didn’t entertain him that much, but it was still better than awkward eye-contact with Matteo or glaring at Luca.

“Which one?” Changretta says, turning to another page of the newspaper.

“Where the hell are we going?” He finally turns to look at the Italian.

“To a place Darby let us use, not far. There’s business in London i’ll need you for.” He drawled. “You know Sabini’s and Solomon’s businesses?”

“Solomons’ more than Sabinis, but yes.” Juliusz sighs, pushing up his glasses. “What about Michael?”

“Nice kid.” Changretta muses, flicking the match he was biting down on between his teeth and lips, and Juliusz faught the urge to snap it in half.

“You know damn well what i’m asking you.”

“You’re not the only one who put Tommy’s neck on the line for him.” Changretta meets his gaze as well. “I just came by to let him know we have a deal.” At first, Juliusz had no idea what Luca was insinuating, but a brief moment later, it’s as if a light turned on in his head. Polly… This doesn’t surprise him, which is odd, because Polly has a strong habit of surprising him. Juliusz pushes the thought aside, he’ll confront her or Michael later.

“You better leave him out of this.”

“It’s his mother and you who i’m dealing with, that’s enough.” He takes the match and tosses it out the car window.

That seemed to be the end of that conversation, though a few glances at Changretta made Julliusz think something was on his mind. Then again, almost always when he saw him the Italian appeared so. Either somber and toned down, or smug and calculating. Something about his expression, the way he grimaced, stared, or even fidgeted with that damn piece of wood made him appear like he’s distracting himself from something. And just when he thought he was being discreet, Luca’s dark eyes met his green ones. Looking away would just be admitting defeat now. Changretta seems to be considering something, then throws Juliusz a smug smile.

“Back at the hospital, why didn’t you shoot me? Didn’t have it in you?”

“Are you…teasing me for not blowing your head off?” His eyebrows furrow. “If someone has to kill you, let it be one of the Shelbys, it’s none of my concern.” Somehow, this response appeared to satisfy Changretta, who turned to his right-hand-man.

“Matteo.” His voice changed in a way, even though that usually happens when changing languages, Juliusz couldn’t help but pay close attention, as if he could read the foreign meanings off his lips. “Hai i documenti?”

“Vuoi usare LUI per questo? Luca, con rispetto-” He wasn’t sure what he said, but judging from the way Matteo glanced at Juliusz with every word, he could safely assume the Italian didn’t have much trust towards the Pole.

“Just fucking give ‘em.” Changretta makes a motion with his hand that Juliusz would only describe as so very italian. Matteo shrugs and reaches under his seat.

“Here.” A stack of documents and folders, some looking like they’ve been through better times than this plop onto his lap. “Take it.” Luca taps the files with a ringed finger.

“Why?” Juliusz questions, but still takes the files and quickly skims through the first few. Financial outputs of Italian-owned clubs in London, copies of shares of the South England racetracks, even tax reports. “Why do you have these?”

“I’m planning on making Sabini an offer he can’t resist.” He grins. “I need you to draw up a contract for me. 100% of his businesses, to my family.”

“Don’t you have lawyers for this?”

“I do, i’m sitting next to him.” Changretta responds nonchalantly, turning his face away from the lawyer, looking out the window.

He actually has a task now.

He took it as an opportunity to get a closer look. This was everything legitimate Sabini holds record of having, earning or spending. That’s the problem though, Juliusz noticed, it’s only everything legal Sabini has to offer. Not thinking twice, he nudges Changretta, not even looking at him, nose still buried deep in the documentation.

“You don’t have everything.”

“Hm?” The noise makes him think that Changretta may have just been taken out of a daydream.

“I know Sabini owns a lot more properties and businesses than meets the eye. He just owns them through different people and companies, for tax purposes. I’d know, we do it as well.” He opens one of the tax reports, pointing at a company name, one of their ‘brother companies’, functioning only to hold assets for Sabini. “If you want the entire Sabini empire, i’ll need their papers as well.”

“...” Luca takes a moment to look between Juliusz and what he’s pointing out, then takes the document out of his hands, skimming it through. “Consider it done.” He closes it and gives it back to Juliusz, the sound of his approval oddly satisfying to the lawyer.

“Great.”

“You got until tomorrow, that good?” Luca raises an eyebrow at him.

“Perfect.” For a while, Juliusz tried to put down the papers and leave them until he comes back home, but not a second later turns to Luca. “Do you have a pen?”

“Matteo?”

“Pencil only.” The Italian takes out a small pencil out of his jacket.

“Even better.” He clarified whilst arranging the documents in a different, more organised order. When Matteo passed him a comically tiny pencil, he let out a fast ‘thankyou’ and in the blink of an eye transformed his part of the backseat into a pile of papers. Now this was where he shined, a horrendously boring reading for most, exciting underlining for him. Everything to be used for later when he’s back at his desk. As odd as it may be, finally getting a task from the Italians is satisfying, and later he’ll have something to tell Thomas to make him happy. He worked with the smallest of smiles on his face. In the fervor of dates, taxes and company shares, Juliusz didn’t even notice Changretta looking at him. From his fingers shuffling page to page like a dealer handling cards, or how his eyes raced left-to-right as he read, there seems to be something endearing in someone who’s in their element. Luca opened his newspaper again, but didn't continue reading it.

Now, if someone told Juliusz a week ago that he’d possibly spend his afternoon trying to move a wagon with some Italians, he’d laugh at you as well.

Yet there he was, getting out of the car as Changretta threw a “C’mon poindexter, try not to break your glasses” in his direction, which, at this point, Juliusz didn’t even bother to grace with a talkback.

Winter hadn’t dwelled harshly in the Birmingham area, if he didn't know any better, he'd assume it was typical gloomy authumn. Though the dirt road underneath them crackled as if not so long ago it had been completely frozen.

“What’s this?” Matteo walked up front. “Whose wagon is that?” He got immediately stopped by the policeman, as if this trashed wagon is somehow a sensitive crime scene.

“They’re gypsies.” he blurted out. “Tribe of fucking gypsies.”

An alarm rang inside Juliusz’s head, something surely wasn’t right. The tussle between Matteo and the lawman didn’t help ease whatever was hanging in the air.

“I said that it’ll be clear in 20 minutes.”

Something definitely isn’t right. He glanced at Luca and was met with a similar look. Both men seemingly having a smililar gut feeling.

"Let's go." He nodded in the direction of the car. "We'll find another way outta here."

When the man he got introduced to before as 'Frankie' hadn't started the car yet, they just assumed he couldn't hear them. The second time Luca called out to him, they thought there must have been something wrong with him and/or the car.

With his head leaned back, exposing the cleanily slit neck, crimson, already slowly clogging blood oozing out of it, chaos erupted.

Shots fired just above their heads, some putting holes in the Italians' hats as they got out of the car to fight back.

Juliusz pressed his back against the Rolls Royce, heart pounding as he realised just what was happening. Aberama Gold, thats what was happening.

Another Italian fell to the ground, while more bullets pierced the cars' body. Bullets whistled in the air just like they did all these years ago.

Gold must be here from the order of Tommy. The Blinders must have known Juliusz went with the Italians. Tommy must have known. Why were they ambushing them with him right there, when-

Something cold pressed against his palm. He looked down. Changretta is giving Juliusz his gun back.

"Cover me, yeah?" His voice was raised, with more than an ounce of panic in it, cracking at places.

He didn't need to be asked twice, he's not dying out of friendly fire from the Golds anytime soon. Juliusz takes a deep breath, and sticked his head out slightly, shooting wherever he saw movement, not to kill, but to scare off and buy Luca the few seconds he needed to get the car running.

"DUCK!" Juliusz shouted when he saw Gold's son aim a shot clearly meant for Luca as he was trying to get to the steering wheel. It just ended up a bullet in Frankies' already dead brain.

Never before would he think he'd be so relieved to hear an engine turn on.

With Changretta maneuvering the car out of the bridge, and with Matteo and Juliusz emptying their magazines to hell, they barely made it out the forest and into a typical, empty english field.

They damn near fell out the car when Luca stopped the engine. The only sound being the distressed and tired breaths of three men after a brief date with death.

Then, you could hear the music of two Italian men shouting at eachother, and one Polish man puking his guts out on the side of the road.

"Holy shit." Juliusz drew a sharp breath as he wiped his lips, trying his best to compose himself after the initial adrenaline started to wear off. "Kurwa mać." He could hear the italians slowly calm as well.

"Fuck, you alright?" Luca calls out to him.

"Yeah, fucking peachy." He wheezes out, exhausted, not sure if more mentally or physically, or both, probably.

"They got two of ours." Matteo pointed in the direction of the woods they drove out of. "What do we do?" This question seemed to put Changretta even more on edge, frustration gradually building up.

"CAZZO!" He kicked the car, luckily it being so beyond repair, it didn't seem to mind. Luca ran his hand through his hair, now noticing he has lost his hat somwhere in the middle of the ordeal. "All right, change of fuckin' plans. Ferenz, you still got that contract to make. Go back to Small Heath, we'll have time for business, i'll call you." He points at Juliusz, not appearing to be asking, but telling. The Pole didn't have it in him to argue at this point.

"I need to make a phonecall to our dear friend Polly." Luca handed Juliusz the files out of the car, still holding them when the other man tries to take them. "Be safe." He lets go.

As he got dropped off at a safe distance, instead of heading to a place like home, preferably into the arms of his bed and a hefty bottle of whisky, he turned to Small Heath, where he'll kick Thomas' Shelbys' fucking teeth in.

******************

Translations:

Niewiarygodne - Unbelievable

Hai i documenti? - Do you have the documents?

Vuoi usare LUI per questo? Luca, con rispetto - Do you want to use HIM for this? Luca, with respect-

Kurwa mać - Fucking Hell

Cazzo - Fuck

#peaky blinders #luca changretta #tommy shelby #michael gray #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta x oc #kings of spades #juliusz ferenz #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders oc #rip frankie #we don't know your lore but you have a kickass name

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pityslash · 11 months

Text

IN THE WATER. chapter five

SHIP: bakugo x fem reader

A/N: sorry for the long wait! i hope it isn’t disappointing, i’m sure yall wanted a sweet happy ending sooo tw character death lol 💀💀

TAGLIST: @smashboxgirl26

　　V. WHEN THE LAST HOPE RUNS OUT

katsuki was in the kitchen putting a small portion of food away, dirty dishes in the sink. “the kids already ate..” he was quick to ask the usual questions, and you answered. “i ran into more revenants today. they’re wandering outside again.”

if you ignore it, maybe it will disappear.

“i know. that’s what i wanted to talk with you about—“ you suddenly took a sharp breath, loud enough to cut him off. it was like a gasp, so natural he almost could have ignored it.

"what was that?" he straightened up, leaning to grab your shoulder. you got cleaned up and dressed in clean(er) clothes when you got back, taking a bath, but he saw the blood.

then he noticed mahoro, peeking around the corner. she was always the one to tattletale or run and tell him things around the house, but now she was keeping her distance.

katsuki tugged at your leg and you turned away, afraid of what he would say. he felt an unpleasant coil in his stomach, and he stared, as if he had never seen you before. “what did you do?”

his tone said it all, and you wanted to cry. “fucking shit, why didn’t you say something? get up, you’re staying in the other room and— y/n?”

the light in your eyes goes out of focus, dimming the way the sun does as it sets, and it makes him realize death still loomed over. it isn’t bound to outer walls. katsuki yells your name and then everything goes black.

his heart pounding the entire way back, buildings turned into trees and the city disappeared. katsuki fell silent and only the sound of breathing could be heard, because that’s all he could do.

white blankets crunched under heavy boots and his legs burned, or maybe it was the cold, but it felt like he was being strangled by his own neck.

it was snowing outside. really, truly snowing.

ever since that day, it had been tense and uncomfortable. the long, treacherous journey north, just the two of you. it was hard, finding out you were infected and only had a certain amount of time. you and me, katsuki thought, how it started.

the air was freezing on your skin, not at all prepared for the weather, red and bruised. that one on your arm has gotten bigger..

flakes fall from the sky and you dare look out the window, you are so cold.

the sound of footsteps made your heart skip into your throat and close your eyes, squeezing a fist as tingles numb your fingertips. katsuki slammed the door behind him, kicking off his boots and the snow was already starting to melt on the beautiful wood flooring.

“there you are.”

you greet him softly, tired from just boiling water —katsuki told you to start melting snow while he was out. the amount you melted wasn’t enough, he sighed. katsuki had been gone for hours, probably, you couldn’t keep a train of thought anymore.

he takes off his damp gloves and tossed them on a table, before shrugging off his jacket and hanging it up. “i didn’t have much luck with the houses around here either. i have to get more wood, we won’t last the week.”

katsuki starts to tell you about plans for tomorrow. he grabs a small blanket from the closet and drapes it over your shoulders.

“i’ll make you something in a minute.” and true to his word, it wasn’t long before you hold a bowl of soup; mouth watering. your stomach has been hurting more recently, sometimes katsuki would throw a tantrum. it was hard to find food— harder for you to keep it down.

the sound of a single gunshot made all three of you flinch, katsuki pushed katsuma and mahoro behind him out of instinct. you couldn’t look into the eyes of your attacker, too afraid. “just hand them over.”

he’d been looking for these children for months, and word gets around when there were eyes everywhere. dead or alive. “.. i’m impressed they’ve survived this long.”

so much blood was shed that day, too many had fallen and it was all your fault. this world changes people, better or for worse, all that mattered was who was the meanest.

“izuku, we trusted you!” you screamed, looking up to meet green eyes, dull and void of pity. he opened his mouth but you couldn’t hear a word. katsuki glanced at you confused.

“is this a joke?” and then you instantly recognized the young man, shoto. “izuku midoriya is gone.”

shoto was full of grief, remembering the petty tears and begging from his best friend before a bullet silenced him. they were supposed to end this together, if only some bastard wasn’t trigger-happy.

“what?” you blink once, blink twice, and izuku disappears. maybe his luck did run out after all, you wanted to throw up. a woman stepped forward, short in height and she had red hair. one of the others called out her name; kiruka.

katsuma grabs your hand, and you couldn’t look down. “i’ll go with you! i’ll go, just don’t hurt my friends.”

“katsuki.. have the kids eaten already?”

it’s been weeks, months. why is that even a question? katsuki bit his inner cheek before starting to eat.

“i don’t know.” he said with a sigh of resignation and leaned back against the chair. windows were broken and he didn't get much sleep that night.

the next few weeks were excruciatingly long, and he is almost thankful for it. the silence never bothered him before. time flies sometimes, and other times it doesn’t. the sound of his newfound family was replaced with passing groans outside the door.

everything was dwindling down, all the food and the supplies and the energy. when he looked at you and saw how you either slept all day or not at all, it held him back, and he hated the feeling.

maybe it was a thursday when he noticed just how tired you were, you had barely spoken in the past five hours. katsuki’s knees were scraped by the broken glass and threads were torn more than designed; his stomach hurt, too.

“y/n,” he struggled to keep you upright. your lips were dry and you looked so ill. “it’s almost dark.” you were so distracted that you didn’t notice when katsuki moved closer; his body radiated heat while yours didn’t.

maybe this was the plan for your character this entire time —pain, loss, small burns from his touch. maybe the gods were having sympathy.

katsuki reached for a bottle, unscrewing the lid and eyeing the clean water since it had finally cooled from boil that morning. he winced to himself when he realized that was it, and for a split second he had to think about giving this water to you.

he felt like a monster waiting for your end.

“you’ll need to keep the fire going, i’m getting a few hours in.” katsuki told you, tossing shavings of wood into the small flame.

it was a hard morning with no sleep. the mental ticks of minutes turned into hours but he never stopped, and pride filled his chest and made his hands shake when you praised the smoke.

he watched you move and stretch out your legs, having been cross-cross for an hour, to reach for the small rabbit he hunted.

the flames were burning bright, they were like your souls and hearts but some day, they would become ash. “okay, get some rest.” katsuki waited a second in case you had something else to say, before he turned around and pulled up the sleeping bag.

“it’s okay,” your voice cracks in a way that makes his heart clench.

a wave of relief washes over you, like the world had come to a brief stop to catch a breath itself. katsuki held you the entire night, even when he could feel your restlessness and heavy breathing. “i’m not going anywhere, y/n.”

nothing could have prepared him for when you finally succumbed to this infection. you leaned closer and katsuki accepted the kiss, his hand slid around the back of your neck. “thank you.”

the light was fading from existence and it felt empty. the entirety of this home felt empty. alone. his cheek pressed into the side of your head and you felt his heartbeat.. soft and steady.

but you left katsuki with a lingering echo of emotions. terror, trust, love. the late night talks and reassuring smiles and this stupid romance story, it was all for nothing.

hands quiver and his eyes were glassy, fresh tears gathered to match your own. something broke— deep inside of him. katsuki bakugo could scream and cry until the sun comes out, but no one was around to hear.

your skin was stained black by morning.

we vow our lives and blood, but this is not our home.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #apocalypse au #bnha x reader #mha x you #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #my writing

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l3m0ncyan · 2 years

Text

New at Life | Chapter 8

Steven Grant/Marc Spector x latina!teen!reader

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Note: I hope yall can read Spanish lol

Warning: Angst, grief, death (gasp)

———————————————

The drive to the desert was quiet aside from the music playing that was low. Since they were in Egypt, most of the music that was being played was in Arabic. Layla and Marc were able to understand what each song was saying but Y/N was in the dark. However the beat to them were catchy and she would find herself bop her head.

Looking outside the window, Y/N saw how the buildings were the only things that lit up the night. As they kept driving though, she could see that less and less buildings were appearing. Meaning that they were headed the right way to get to the desert.

She looked over to Layla and Marc who were talking to each other. Marc was looking at his jacket which had holes, “This was my favorite jacket too”. Saddened he threw it to the back and then took off his shirt which was also ruined. Discarding the shirt to the back too, he reached over to a duffel bag that was next to Y/N.

Y/N stared at him envious, he was able to change out of his sweaty clothes while she had to stick with hers.

“Lucky” she looked at him unimpressed.

He looked at her and smiled cockily, “You should have brought your own clothes”

“I didn’t know we’d be staying overnight at the desert”

“Technically, we have been staying overnight at the desert. You know, Egypt is all-“

“You know what, I’m glad your favorite jacket got ruined”

Marc gave a small laugh and looked back to the road, “If you want, you can borrow some of my clothes, they should fit”.

Y/N looked at the duffel bag and then back to Marc. With out much thought, she grabbed the bag.

She looked through it and found a military green tshirt plus a brown jacket. Since it was getting a bit cold, she decided to take it.

“Alright y’all don’t look!” She yelled out causing Marc to close his eyes and place an arm on top of his eyes.

Taking her chance, she took off her top and tossed it to the trunk. She pulled the shirt over head and pulled it down. She noticed how it was a bit/quite oversized, but she liked it since she was now comfortable. The jacket she put on and it was actually warm.

After wearing it she noticed that the shirt was a bit itchy and rough. “Yo Marc, do you wash your clothes?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Cause it doesn’t feel like it. Do you even use softener?”

“Alright if your gonna be judging, how about you put back on your sweaty shirt?”

“Just kidding. It’s nice. Yup” she quickly said and smiled to convince him.

Layla gave a small laugh, “He doesn’t, I used to fold his clothes and they were hard as rock”. Marc looked at her offendedly.

“It’s true” she laughed.

Y/N saw how the two looked into each other’s eyes and noticed how much love they held for the other. She smiled but then remembered about how Marc was staying away from Layla for a while. Then wondered why did the two even decide to marry. Actually how did Layla fall for him?

“Uhm, so like, I might be getting a little to personal but like…how did you two meet?”

The two paused, looking at each other. Marc looked at her and then down, disappointed not at her but at himself. Layla looked at him with a sympathetic smile and squeezed his hand. Y/N noticed that Marc didn’t pull away. At first she thought that she might have have made things awkward but she might have actually made things better.

“We met at a bar” Layla said after a long pause.

Y/N fixed her posture and listened closely.

“I was working on archeological business which shall not be named” she smiled at the rear mirror, “when suddenly I get a drink, told that a man bought it for me”

“I look across from the room and I see this awkward and mysterious man staring back,”

“Awkward?” Marc smiles.

“Yes awkward, you looked like a boy from grade school who was waiting for his crush to read his handwritten letter”

Y/N laughs, “Wait really?”

“Yup, but he gets the courage and walks over to me. Tells me about how I caught his eye, can you believe it? Out of all the women there”

“How couldn’t I?” Marc looks at Laylas hand, hesitating but yet still holding it, “You’re the most interesting and smart woman I’ve met”.

Layla smiles and squeezes Marc’s hand in return.

“After that, we talked more, went on a few dates and got together. A couple of years after, he asks to marry me”

Y/N looks at them and smiles with delight on their love story. Especially since she didn’t know Marc was a romantic. She then notices that Layla frowns and slowly lets go of Marc.

“But a few years after we marry, he leaves without a trace, without letting me know” Marc looks at her apologetically. “Layla, I’m sorry-“

“Let’s just stay focused on the mission”

Layla focuses on the road and ignores Marc’s eyes that are filled with pity and guilt. The trip becomes quiet and awkward. Y/N looks at both of them but before she can say anything her phone goes off.

Scrambling to get her phone from her pocket, she looks at the caller ID. ‘Madre’ it reads, she looks at Layla and Marc apologetically, “Hey sorry, uh I gotta take it, it’s my mom”

The two nod and look to the road as a gesture of privacy.

Y/N breathes in and looks at the green button. Why was her mother calling at this time? Gathering enough courage, she answers and raises the phone to her ear.

“Bueno?”

“Honde estás?” Her mother answers with a stern voice. Y/N feels like her heart skipped a beat but continues to try to keep the facade.

“En Londres? Donde mas?”

“Crees que soy pendeja?”

Y/N feel her breathe stop. Her mother was angry and even thought she was very far away from her, she felt like she would come through the phone and slap her.

“N-No”

Marc and Layla notice the sudden change in Y/N but continue to listen.

“Di porque tu prima me mando un video donde estas en Egipto, peleando con un grupo de señores con…poderes”

Y/N stays quiet, “Cual video?”

“Ay! Eres mensa o que?!” Jumping at her mothers raised voice, she sees that she is sent a link to a video. Following it, she is shown from shaky camera work from earlier where they went to Mogart and fought the many groups of bodyguards. In the video, it showed how Y/N uses her powers to beat them and knock them unconscious. Without context, it probably looks like Y/N has been hanging out with the wrong group.

The thing that she wondered was who recorded it and how did it get big so fast?

“Lo viste?!”

Forgetting that she was still on a call with her mother, scrambled to put her phone back to her ear.

“Si, si….” Y/N repeated not in an annoyed way but in a scared one.

“Explícame esto!”

Y/N tried to think of an excuse but how would one explain to their mother that she got powers and is now trying to save the world from an evil cult. The easiest one would be to say she was now part of the mafia.

“Es que…no me vas a creer” she rubbed the back of her neck. In the corner of her eye she saw Marc staring at her and gesturing to her if she was alright. She gave a quick smile and nodded. However Marc didn’t really believe that.

It was quiet on the other line and Y/N felt the air become more dense. Suddenly she heard quiet sobs and sniffles. Hearing her mom cry her hurt her heart, “Mami, por favor no llores”

“No me digas que no llore! Yo pensé que ibas a ser diferente que tus hermanas pero al mejor eres peor!”

“…Que estás queriendo decir?”

“Nos fallaste y incluso trajiste vergüenza a nuestra familia. Todos tus tíos nos están tomando por tontos! Teníamos muchas esperanzas para ti!”

Y/N felt her heart and all blood cells stop simultaneously. She feels her throat tighten, “No- no quieres decir eso…”.

“Me has decepcionado mucho a mí y a tu padre. Cómo pudiste hacerlo después de todo lo que hemos hecho? Quiero que vuelvas a casa a este momento”

The call ends and Y/N is just met with the beeping of the phone. She just stares straight down, still in shock.

All of her hard work and nights of studying, gone down the drain. All of her energy trying to make her parents the least bit happy went to waste.

Y/N felt tears trying to escape, even though she tried her hardest in keeping them in, a few fell. Her lips quiver, she feels so weak with crying in the backseat of a car.

“…You alright?” Marc turns his head slightly to her. She immediately wipes her eyes with the sleeve of the jacket she put on, “Y-yeah I’m fine”.

Layla looks at her with a frown through the rear view mirror. Being a traveling archeologist, she learned a few languages, Spanish being one. So from the recent conversation that the teen just had, she had an idea of what it was about. Layla stared at the road ahead trying to think of how to make Y/N feel more cheerful. She looked down to the radio and then to the reflection of Y/N.

“Is there any music you like?” Y/N looked confused at the question.

“Uhh, not really, well I'm fine with anything, " she said quietly.

Lyla nodded and turned the small wheel for the radio, trying to find a good station. A mix of sound came from the speakers; static, milliseconds of songs that were playing, and ads.

"Oh, I remember this song!" Layla stopped at one station.

She looked at the rearview mirror to check on Y/N, her eyes were tinted red but she seemed calmer. She was looking at the radio and got closer to the front of the truck. Using the front seats as an aide, she pulled herself in between Layla and Marc.

"Wait, I know this song too, my sisters would play it all the time back then" she gave a small smile.

Layla turned the volume up causing the speakers to blare I Want It That Way by The Backstreet Boys. Y/N bumped her head to the beat while Marc just stared off into the distance. Layla however started to sing and soon after so did Y/N.

Layla sung with emotion and Y/N acted as if she was in a music video.

“But we are two worlds apart,” Layla put a hand on her chest, dramatically.

“Cant reach to your heart” Y/N closed her eyes and put hands close to her chest, gesturing her heart.

The two then bursted into the main verse, singing their hearts out. Taking turns in who would say “Tell me why” while the other song the other line.

Marc just chuckled and shook his head. Y/N elbowed him.

“Come on join us!” She looked up to him.

“Rather not”

“Please!”

“I don’t even know the song”

Layla then jumped into the side conversation, “Oh of course you do! You sung it to me when you were tipsy”

Marc stared at her and back to Y/N, sighing he gave in.

“Am I your fire?” He said quietly.

Layla and Y/N beamed, soon enough the three were now singing. Marc was still awkward but through half of the verse, he started to actually sing just like when he was tipsy. One would sing while the other two became background vocals. This cycle would switch around until the trio decided to just sing it together.

The song came to a close, with the three singing the last few words from the top of their lungs.

“I never wanna hear you say! I want it that way!”

As cheesy as it sounds, they had a small laugh after with realizing how they had their own little concert. Specifically in a stolen truck in the middle of the Egyptian desert.

“Jeez, didn’t know you could sing my guy” Y/N shouldered Marc.

“Don’t push it,” he rolled his eyes.

More music continued to play; some Layla and Y/N would sing, Marc would join in a bit, then there was just head bopping.

It was a good change of pace for the three, especially after going through a whole battle. Y/N though was still hurt by what her mother had told her but with the karaoke she felt happier. Probably so happy she was able to fall asleep on the seats. The symphony was now lowered for her with just the soft sounds of the engine.

Layla and Marc made small conversations but in a whisper, careful in not trying to wake up the teen. Marc would then grab a spare jacket that he had inside his bag and lay it over Y/N’s snoring body. He smiled softly but would catch Laylas smirk from the corner of the eye. Then he’d clear his throat and stare straight into road.

“I don’t want her to get a fever” he’d say, avoiding Laylas gaze.

“Marc, we’re in the desert”

“And the desert gets cold”

Marc wouldn’t say it outloud but Layla was right. Y/N had became another person that he cared about. He used to think that she was going to stay away from them the moment she found out about the DID and being an avatar. Surprisingly she didn’t, she wanted to help them. Even with how she almost died from the jackal and from Mogarts guards, she stuck by him. He was grateful, yet he was terrified. They were now at enemies territory, and she was there.

It was like a flashback hit him when he thought this. The cave. The rain. The water. Water coming in. It was rising. And he couldn’t stop it.

What if he can’t stop it for Y/N.

He breathed in and closed his eyes, trying to forget it. He wouldn’t let it happen. Opening his eyes back up, he continued to look towards the sand dunes that we’re coming into view.

——

A couple of hours in, Layla began to yawn but continued to hold onto the wheel. They were now in the desert and were following only the road that was placed.

“I can drive if you want” Marc offered.

Layla shook her head, “No I can still do it,”

“You need to get some sleep in” Marc stared at her.

The two heard shuffling in the back. Marc looked back and saw Y/N squirming and then sitting up. Her eyes were still watery from the slumber and there were marks on her face from the bag she used as a pillow.

“Marc’s right, you should sleep. You don’t know what we might find at the uh…” Y/N tried to think but heard Marc whisper tomb.

“The tomb!” She snapped her fingers.

“Alright” Layla smiled and sighed, pulling over to the side.

She got out and so did Marc. He walked over to the drivers seat and before Layla could get to the passenger side, Y/N won her.

“You don’t want the back seat?” Layla asked her with a smile.

“Nah, plus I feel like you might sleep better there”

Layla nodded and went to the back and laid down. Soon she was deep asleep. Marc continued to drive and Y/N stared out to the sand that flew by.

Marc gripped the wheel trying to think of what to talk about. Thinking about what the two had gone through in the past few days, all the small bits of goodness were drowned out by the fighting. This time it wasn’t just him doing it, he had Y/N helping him. That’s when it clicked.

“How did you get those powers?” Marc looked straight ahead.

Y/N lifted her head from the window and looked to the road and then to Marc.

“Uh, it was a day after Steven, or well you guys, went missing” she hesitated, “I was coming back from buying groceries and I see this guy stumbling into an alley. So I go and check on him”

Marc looks over to her with a half-lidded eyes, telling her that what she is about to do is highly stupid.

“I know! I know! It’s dumb of me but I didn’t want this to be in the back of my mind” she raises her hands up.

Marc sighs and nods, cue to continue.

“I get closer and he is like yelling how it hurts and to stay away from him. I tell him I can call an ambulance or something but he says no. Soon after, I freak out and start backing away and the last thing he does is apologize. I swear I see his stomach glow red and then a blast of light throws me across the floor”

Y/N rubs her arm as she continues to remember back to that day.

“My ears are ringing as I open my eyes and I see that he’s gone. But the most obvious thing to me is the warm and cold feeling going through my body,” she hugs herself, “So I practically run back to the apartment and just go to sleep. Skip through you and Steven coming back and the jackal at the museum, to me I guess waking up my powers at Harrows den”

She looks over to Marc who’s wearing a shameful look.

“I’m sorry” he mumbles quietly, “If I were there you wouldn’t have to deal with them”

“Nah it’s fine. Oddly I don’t regret it, I feel badass with them” she leans back into her seat, “Plus I can be like a sidekick for you”

“A sidekick?” Marc raises a brow and Y/N nods her head rapidly. “Guess i got a lame one then” he says jokingly.

Y/N smacks him on his shoulder, “Hey! I’m serious! Imagine us, Bird Man and the Spider! Wait no we already have a hero with Spider in the name”

“Bird Man?” Marc gave a small laugh

“Well yeah, for Khonshu”

“You know Khonshu is a god for the moon and not birds right?”

Y/N widened her eyes, “Oh! Then you can be Moon Boy! No that’s not right…”

She placed a finger on her chin, trying to think up names. Marc would just listen as she spilled multiple at a time. He then saw the way the match ignited in her head.

“Moon Knight!”

Marc shook his head and smiled, “Sure, but I ain’t no hero”

“I mean you have the suit, the powers, and the mysterious background” she crossed her arms, “Anyways what’s mine?”

“Your nickname?”

“Yeah, I helped you with yours”

Marc breathed in and thought for a second, “Didn’t Khonshu call you Maggot? That’s the one”

Y/Ns face crinkled in disgust, “That’s gross!”

He laughed and looked to the night sky and to the road ahead. He thought of her powers and what they were. They looked like insect legs and the glowed red. So how to make a name for that?

“Why not add Crimson to the name?”

Y/N looked everywhere for where the voice came from. Finding Steven on the rear view mirror, she smiled.

“Yo! I can see you!” She pointed at him which he smiled at.

“I can tell. I heard you two talking about hero names and I had to join”

“We are not heroes” Marc intervened but went ignored.

“Oh! You should be Mr.Knight! You got that suit so it would make sense right?”

“Yes! It sounds sharp!”

The two continued to talk about hero names and ideas for Y/N.

“How about Crimson Spur?”

Y/N looked at Steven confused, “Spur?”

“Yeah, that’s what those little spiky things are called on insect legs”

“Why do you and Marc want to name me based of bugs?”

Steven looked at Marc confused this time.

“I said Maggot and she freaked out” Marc says nonchalant.

Steven rolled his eyes and pondered more. They would say what the powers would remind them of. Marc would continue to say spider or any kind of bug with long spiky legs. Steven would go ahead and say some scientific name which led to him having to explain what it meant.

They then stuck to the idea of squid or octopus but Y/N was not into it.

“That sounds lame”

“What’s wrong with Crimson Tentacle?”

“Steven it sounds like the title of a porn video, also squids are kinda just eh”

“How about Kraken?” Marc jumped in.

Steven and Y/N thought on it and nodded their heads.

“Guess Crimson Kraken will do, for now” Y/N turned to Layla who was sitting up.

“I see I missed your guys hero name choosing?” She stretched.

Y/N nodded, “Yup, Marc is Moon Knight, Steven is Mr.Knight, and I am the Crimson Kraken”

Layla nodded and moved closer to the front, looking straight ahead to the road. Well at this point there was no road, it was just sand.

“We can maybe stop here, I don’t think they’d follow us this far in” she placed a hand on Marc’s shoulder.

Marc nodded and parked the truck. The three got out and we’re met with the soft ground. Trying to walk on it was like trying to walk on the beach or on snow; taking one step at a time. Y/N looked up and saw how the stars were more visible and she looked at them in awe. She felt as if the purple hues would engulf her as she continued staring. That soon ended when Marc flipped the light on the trucks roof on, lighting the hood and anything near it.

Bidding the stars a farewell, she walked over to see Marc and Layla placing the pieces of constellations on the hood.

“This should be like a puzzle right?” Y/N looked at each piece to see if there was anything similar.

There wasn’t. It just looked like someone put dots on random places and called it a day. Layla grabbed one piece and then another, holding them near. That didn’t fit. She placed them down and looked to Marc who was doing the same thing. Then Y/N followed.

The three probably spent about 30 minutes in trying to figure out the map to Ammits tomb until Marc gave up.

Slamming the pieces down onto the hood, he gripped his hair frustration.

“We’re gonna be here all night trying to figure this shit out” he placed his elbows on the truck and covered his face, trying to gain himself again.

Y/N looked at the pieces again but felt her brain about to explode with seeing so many stars in one sitting. She placed them down and rubbed her eyes. As she did this, she swore she saw the same stars as she had her eyes closed.

“You think they might have a completed set online?” She grumbled.

“I don’t think the gods would want the route to the tomb of a goddess to be that accesible” Layla sighed as she leaned on the truck.

The three just stared down at the trucks hood. Just the sound of the wind moving the sand in the distance.

“…why don’t you let Steven out? He might be able to help us” Layla hesitates, “He understands this more than us three put together”

Marc thinks about it but Khonshus booming voice comes out.

“I summon the gods, you summon the worm” Khonshu kneels on the top of the truck.

Y/N looks at him and rolls her eyes, “Alright let me see you do this”

Khonshu ignored her, probably because he couldn’t do it.

“He won’t return the body”

“Marc we can’t wait. It’s okay, just let go” Layla pleads.

“She’s right Marc, like you said, this is time sensitive. We need to get to the tomb thing soon” Y/N looks at him hoping he would understand.

Marc clenched his fists and jaw, lashing out, he grabs the side mirror of the truck. He pulls it off in a fit of anger. Y/N flinches and stares at him grab the pieces of paper from the hood and walk a few feet away with the mirror.

Y/N stares back at the broken mirror and then at Layla, “Drama queen am I right?”. This earns a laugh from Layla, “Very much so”

The two look at him as he talks to his reflection, most likely Steven, and his body suddenly jolts up. His demeanor then turns into a slouched timid one. Steven now being in control again, he kneels down and starts arranging the pieces together while using tape to keep them in place.

Layla and Y/N walk closer and kneel next to him.

“Steven?” Layla calls out.

He looks up and stares into her eyes. As if he’s in a trance. Y/N clears her throat and he turns to her.

“I’m here too” she raises her hand.

“Ah right of course, I missed our time together” he says. He holds out the the pieces and explains how Egyptians used the stars and the sun to navigate their way through the desert. They both listen in, intrigued at the historical facts.

“Et voila” Steven holds up the taped pieces which are formed in a star.

“Oh shit!” Y/N looks at it marveled and so does Layla.

Steven looks at her face and smiles, “It’s uh French”. Layla laughs.

Y/N elbows Steven on the rib, “I think she knows what it is mate”.

Steven mutters an ‘oh right’.

“Anyways what now?” Y/N looks at the two.

Steven stares at the paper star and stands up, with the girls following. “Not sure but-“ he suddenly sees holes which line up into a constellation.

“We should be able to find the coordinates of that constellation, let me scan it” Layla brings out a device that looks like tablet and begins to scan it.

“Yeah but you see the problem is that, Senfu marked the tomb like 2,000 years ago…” Steven explains.

“Don’t stars move positions over time?” Y/N looks at Steven.

He nods, “So unless we know how the sky looked like on that date, we’re buggered”

“I remember that night. I remember every night” Khonshu stares off I to the desert on top of a hill.

Steven looks back at the two girls and points at him, Y/N nodding in understanding. He begins to walk up the steep hill of sand, with the two following. Layla however is still confused. She gently tugs Y/N’s arm and makes a puzzled expression.

“Oh it’s the bird god thing”, Y/N says nonchalant. Noticing Laylas expression becoming even more befuddled, she explains further.

“Bird god decided to show himself to me” she looks back at Khonshu still staring at the distance, “I wonder why…”

Shaking out of her thoughts, she gestures her head to Steven and Khonshu. The two follow up the hill, trying not to slip, well more Y/N, she wasn’t very experienced with this level of sand.

Once they get up to the top, Khonshu is nowhere to be found. Steven and Y/N look around but are only met with their shadows from the bright moon rays.

Steven calls out to him and is met again with Khonshus reverberating voice.

“I can turn back the night sky, but it comes with a cost and I can’t do it alone”

Wind chimes in instantly and Khonshu appears again next to Steven.

“Steven and Y/N, tell Marc that when the gods imprison me, to come back and set me free”

Y/N tilts her head at him, surprised that he is also trusting her. Yet she can’t continue think on it as Steven is wrapped in cloth which soon turns into his iconic suit.

“Oh damn,” Y/N exclaims with a tad bit of excitement.

“Wait what? What’s happening?” Layla asks.

“Khonshu and Steven are about to turn the night sky back to when Ammit was imprisoned” she practically jumps, wondering how that’ll look.

Layla nods and almost seems as excited as Y/N.

Steven then lifts his right hand, following Khonshus action. The sky glows brighter than it did before, showing the different tones more clearly. With the other hand the two begin to move it to the side, as if trying to move something.

Y/N looks yo to the sky and begins to see it rotate as if Steven was spinning a globe. One would get dizzy but Y/N was too starstruck to keep her eyes away. As Steven keeps moving his hand, the night begins rotate even faster to the point where the stars and the moon are shown through only a streak of white.

“This is fucking crazy” Y/N continues to stare.

The sky begins to slow down and stop at the same night sky from that day. Layla immediately bring her tablet up and begins to scan while Steven grunts trying to keep it steady.

Immediately after, Khonshu falls to his knees but continues to leave his arms raised. Unfortunately, his right arm gives up and almost becomes numb, falling to his side. So does Stevens.

Steven tries to raise it again but let’s out a noise of exhaustion, “I don’t know how long to do this”.

Looking over to Layla who is trying find the coordinates, she yells them out and Steven sighs in relief. Dropping his hands down.

Khonshu begins to disappear and Steven starts to become weak at his knees. Y/N tried to go and help him up but his body weight holds her down too.

He suddenly faints and falls numb to the ground. Layla and Y/N rush to his side and shake him.

“Hey hey! Wake up Steven! Marc?!” Layla shakes his body, pleading for one of the boys to come out and sit up.

“Shit, shit, come on guys!” Y/N begins to lightly slap their face. Trying to get a response.

Seeing that nothing is working, Layla looks at Stevens body and then to Y/N.

“Help me carry him back to the truck”

Y/N doesn’t think twice and begins to lift his legs while Layla lifts his shoulders. They both struggle but are able to lift him off the ground. Slowly they try to move down the hill but their grips gives out and drop Steven in the process. Y/N’s eyes widen and look at Layla.

“He won’t remember that” Layla waves off.

Y/N smiles and nods but then turns her head to a light that seems to come their way. She squints her eyes and tries to make out what it is, she sees it’s another truck. Realizing that they’ve been followed, she looks to Layla to tell her but can see that she already saw the sight by the face she was making.

“Help me drag him away” she says quickly, but before they can even grab him, bullets begin to fly their way. Even thought they were missing and landing on the sand, the two freaked out and fell down the hill with Steven.

The truck still in pursuit, missed them by a few feet and begin to drive around shining a light. Layla looks at truck and then turns to Y/N.

“Stay with Steven, I’ll try to stop them” she grabs the shoulders of the teen.

“Let me help!” She says loudly yet quietly.

Layla shakes her head and places a finger to her lips. She begins to run back to the truck and hides on the side and then moves to the trunk. Opening and then going in, she stays low as she hears men speaking in Arabic, saying they saw someone running.

Back with Y/N she feels her anxiety rise up as she looks at Layla being cornered. She looks to Steven who is unconscious and bites her lip.

“Uh, I think you should be fine…I’ll be right back” she races towards Layla but stops a few feet away.

Seeing how the truck begins to close in to Layla who’s hiding in their own truck, Y/N decides to bring their attention to her.

“Oye! Hijo de putas!” She waves her arms around.

The man who is sitting at the top turns to her, yelling to the driver that she was there. The truck begins to charge at her with the machine gun going off towards her.

“I forgot about the gun” she yells as she runs a different direction.

She continues to run, glancing back at the truck. Fortunately, the bullets weren’t hitting, jeez was the shooter bad. She waited for the truck to get as close as a distance. Y/N focused her energy to her right forearm. Finding the perfect chance, she suddenly turns which catches the shooter and river off guard. She then punches her arm up, causing the tentacles to rise up while holding the truck up. She then rapidly brings her arm down which causes the tentacles to slam the truck down, flattening it and hopefully making the two men unconscious.

She breathes out and smiles, walking back to Layla who stares at her with amazement. “You did fantastic!” She raises her hand up for a high five but stops when she sees that one of the men is still awake and trying to move the stuck machine gun towards the two. Layla sighs and grabs a red flare, lighting it then throwing it to the enemies truck. The vehicle instantly explodes and parts come flying.

“Now that was badass” Y/N raises her hand to Layla.

The two share a quick high-five. Layla smiles at Y/N but then furrows her brows to behind Y/N.

“What?” Y/N slowly turns and sees the figure of a man standing behind her.

Freaking out, she uses what’s left of her energy and punches whatever foe is still left from the small battle.

“Ow!”

She looks closer and sees Steven holding his nose in pain. Immediately she feels terrible and apologizes.

“I thought you were another of those bad guys!”

“We’ll im not! Jeez, you have a strong punch, I think you’ve broken my nose” Steven looks at his hand and sees there’s a blood stain.

Y/N has made Steven bleed.

And she felt terrible.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!” Y/N runs to the truck and grabs any piece of cloth she could find and runs back to Steven. “Here!”

She moves Stevens hand and forcefully places the cloth on his nose.

“Thanks love but it’s-“

“Lean your head down! Not back cause it supposedly can drown you? I don’t know!”

She pushes Stevens head down. He chuckled and grabs her shoulder as a reassurance, “Y/N don’t worry, I don’t think your small fisted punch can kill me”

“But I never punched you nor made you bleed dude! Also a lesson to not sneak up on me”

“A very good lesson at that, but it’s alright love it just means you can fend foes!” Steven cheers.

“I guess” Y/N slumps, still feeling guilty.

“Alright I believe it is time for us to get going. Don’t worry Y/N, Steven will survive” Layla says with a hint of humor.

Y/N nods and begins to move back to the truck, this time she was left to the back seat again, while the actual adults were at the front.

From there the car ride was rather quiet aside from the music that played. There would be times that Layla and Y/N would go into a musical number but it was probably only a couple of times. However it wasn’t just them two, Steven would also join. He had more energy when he sung which made the girls happier.

Y/N thought of ways to spice up the car ride by playing a few games. Sadly, the games were reduced to ‘Truth or Dare’ and ‘Never Have I Ever’ since the other ones required more room and surroundings; in this case they only had each other, the interior of the vehicle, and of course, sand.

So there really wasn’t much to do than just lay down and sleep. Y/N would offer to drive so Layla could rest but she would turn it down. Either because she was fine or she didn’t want Y/N to mysteriously wreck the truck.

After hours passed, the sun was beginning to rise. Layla was trying to rush to the tomb before Harrow got to it by stepping on the gas.

“When we get there, I think we will need Marc. We don’t know what Harrow might do” Layla glances at Steven.

He looks like he shrinks into the seat and then looks up to the mirror to his right.

“Actually, me and Marc came into an agreement that when we no longer had Khonshu, he would give the body to me”

Y/N scooted closer to the front and placed her elbows on the seats, “He said that once the whole Harrow business was over with that he’d leave?”

“Yeah but he and I changed our minds and now it’s when Khonshu isn’t here. Which he isn’t”

Layla grips the wheel tight, “So you guys made a deal, where he would just disappear from my life. And you didn’t think I’d be made aware of that?”

Y/N leans back into her seat and hopes the leather eats her whole. The atmosphere became so awkward so quickly and she didn’t know how to get out of it. It felt like she was back at home where her parents were arguing and she was just trying to eat a slice of pizza.

Yet that wasn’t the cherry on the top.

“Oh, well hadn’t he disappeared from your life already?” Steven asks her.

Layla stays quiet for a second and nods.

Y/N is very tempted to slap Steven right now. But oh god is this tension so unbearable. She covers her face trying to hide away.

“His suit was the best feature wasn’t it? Doesn’t even have that anymore” Layla looks straight ahead, “Plus he would want to go at this alone. We’re not gonna do that”

Steven nods, “Nope, it’s just you, Y/N, me, and the open road”

Y/N just squints her eyes seeing what he’s doing. Before she could open her mouth, the truck instantly comes to a halt.

“We’re gonna have to go on foot from here” Layla opens her door and begins to climb out.

Steven nods and does the same. Y/N stares at them and looks around the truck to see what they might need. All they had were spare clothes and a few snacks. She looked to the trunk and found a small backpack. She reached over to grab it and put in the rest of the small food.

Zipping it up, she got off and saw Layla and a Steven waiting for her. She hurried her step, “Got everything, well snacks in case were hungry you know”

Layla smiled, “Perfect, I have a few tools too just in case”

They looked over to Steven who had a backpack as well, “I uh, I have a few items in here too”

They shrugged and nodded and looked to the path before them. There were two canyons that framed a path that looked narrow.

The two walked through, being enveloped by the shadows. All they could hear were crows cawing from above and the sound of a small stream going through. They came upon an arch that had the top be a large rock that snuggly fit in, leaving space to walk under. However, on top of it was a goat that looked down at them.

Y/N scoffed and gestured her head to Steven to look at it. “Will you look at that, you should take a picture of that” he smiled.

She took out her phone and tried to aim it where the sun hit the angle right. With a quick click, she showed Steven the final result and he made an ‘ooh’ sound. Layla raised a thumbs up and said how photography suited her.

“Have you thought of becoming a photographer?” Layla questioned

Y/N simply shrugged, “I don’t know, kinda? But I kinda quit on that”

“Maybe you should look into it more” Layla patted her back.

Y/N smiled and nodded.

——

After almost an hour of walking, the three stand before a large plain of sand. The wind blows across their ear as they feel the small grains of sand. They felt their skin burn from the sun rays, especially now that they were away from the shade that the canyons were providing.

Their eyes pan from the tan canvas to an area that has tents pitched up.

“That must be where the tomb is” Layla informs.

“That’s got to be Harrows guys camp there” Y/N squints trying to look closer.

“Yup, that just means we have no time to lose” Steven looks at the two.

Arriving at the camp, there were many trucks scattered around. Walking through caution, they saw there was a few camels tied down. Steven waved to one as Y/N took a selfie with them.

Walking further in, their eye catched the side of a mountain. There was a small entrance that was framed with what seemed to be sticks to make a cover. Y/N began to walk towards it but felt Layla pull her arm back gently.

“We should first look for supplies” Layla waited for a confirmation before she began to walk off.

Y/N looked around, trying to find a place to start. Steven looked too and pointed to one tent.

“Maybe we can start with that one and then work around?”

“Oh, I was planning on just going off on my own to another one” Y/N pointed to a different tent.

“Well wouldn’t it be best if we stuck together? You know, safety”

“I mean yeah but I’ll be fine on my own, and plus I got this,” she raised an arm up which she then had a black strand appear from it, “so nothing to worry”

Steven tightened his lips and thought. “Alright, just if there’s anything that seems like trouble-“

“I’ll scream for you and Layla!” Y/N yelled out as she began to walk off.

Pulling open the curtains of the tent, she looked inside making sure there wasn’t anyone inside. Stepping inside after seeing she was fine, she noticed how it was a bit cooler inside. Although there was no lights, the sun made an orange glow happen inside.

There were a few beds, not the best ones thought but Y/N felt rather envious of the thought of being able to sleep on a bed. Oh how she missed her bed. There were a few tables that had many things on top like paper and small tools. She looked at each surface; grabbing every bottle to see if there was any water or even looking at any documents if there was anything important. Nothing though.

Where would someone hide suck important things? She already looked everywhere. Not everywhere though. She looked to the beds and went down to see if there was anything underneath. The first two beds, she was only met with messed up looking shoes or just sand. However on the last one she was surprised to see a small box.

Pulling it out from under, she was glad that it had no special lock or code. Inside she found what seemed to be letters and a small golden telescope. She shrugged and took the small golden thing but then turned to the papers. Taking one in hand, she tried to read it but it was no use. The letter was in Arabic.

She looked through the rest and it was no use. Still, there was something that laid under one of the letters. Maybe it was info for the tomb but it wasn’t. It was actually different.

It was a Polaroid picture of a family. There was a man who had a beard, almost in his middle years. He held a closed mouth smile. Next to him was a woman around the same age who had long black hair. She also had a closed mouth smile but it was more warm. Infront of them were two small children, a boy and a girl. They held a great big smile, showing their teeth. Each one having a few feature from each parent.

Y/N smiled but then frowned. She kept thinking of Harrows men as just Harrows men. Yet she forgot that they each have a family and come from somewhere. They most likely had people waiting for them back home. Waiting for them to say that they helped “save the world”.

She wondered if how this man’s family was feeling. We’re they worried? We’re they proud? Do they hope for him to get back?

Suddenly she thought of her own family. We’re they worried? We’re they proud? Did they hope Y/N was coming back? Or were they maybe glad she left?

This man’s family probably couldn’t wait to see him. But how about her own family?

She felt her eyes widen when she realized how these thoughts came in. She blinked them away and held her face.

Stop thinking like that. They miss you. They miss you…right?

She immediately put the picture back and closed the box. Sliding it quickly under the bed, she got up and began walking out the tent.

Y/N walked around the camp trying to remember which tent Steven said he’d go to. It was starting to get rather hot, that she had to take off her brown jacket and tie it around her waist, leaving her in the green t-shirt.

She continued to walk through, catching glances of the camels judging her as she tried to find her friends. Fortunately, one of the tents that she opened she saw Steven with his back facing her. He was looking at his reflection from a mirror and talking to it. On it, Y/N saw how the mirror would distort from Steven talking to what seemed to be Marc.

“You’re in love with my wife?”

“I really appreciate your concern, mage. I really do. But we’ve got it from here” Steven says almost with a bit of sass.

“I swear to you Steven. If you lay one finger on her! I’ll throw us off a cliff!!”

“I’ll call you” Steven says and turns around.

Not expecting Y/N to be there, he jumps. She raises and eyebrow and smirks.

“What was going on there? I could barely hear but it sounded like something about Layla?” She tilts her head to the side.

“Jesus I didn’t know you were there…Uhm it’s nothing important. Just Marc being sensitive about me being on the reigns of the horse” He flared back to a reflection.

“Right…It’s your guys business,” she raises her hands up, “Anyways, I wanted to see if you found anything”

Steven pulls out two flashlights from his bag and shows them to Y/N, “You?��

“Just this golden telescope but uh…I still don’t know if should keep it or put it back”

“Why’s that? I say keep it as your first treasure of this mission” He smiles.

Y/N purses her lips and looks to the floor, “Yeah, I’ll keep it”

Steven looks at her confused, seeing that she looks guilty about taking the small trinket. Not knowing about the backstory it had.

“Y/N is everything alri-“

“Steven! Y/N!” Layla begins to shout from outside.

“That’s our cue” Y/N walks out of the tent and to Laylas way.

Steven sighs and follows behind. Before it was easy telling each other anything but with what has been happening with Harrow, it has become difficult. He was set on trying to finish this soon so he and Y/N could go back to living everyday lives.

Layla waits by the cave with a pair of safety belts in hand with one she is already wearing.

"What are these for?" Y/N looks down as Layla begins to help her put one of the safety belts on.

"Well it turns out," She breathes out trying to tighten one of the gears, "we will have to jump down a hole to get to the tomb"

"Wait what?!" Y/N pulls back causing Layla to loosen her grip, "I thought it was just waltzing in and the tomb being there!"

"Yeah but then that would be too easy for thieves, wouldn't it?" Steven scrunched his nose.

Y/N looks at him, then at Layla, then at the darkness of the cave.

"If you don't want to go, you don't have to. You can maybe stay here and be on guard" Layla looks into Y/Ns eyes.

"What? She can't just stay out here. What if Harrow comes?" Steven's heart almost stopped with just the thought.

"Well no offense, but she's the only one with powers left, so I think she'll be able to at least run away to safety if that were to happen"

That is true, she is the only one left with powers. Meaning what if Harrow gets to them first. Who would protect them?

"Its alright, I'll go"

"Y/N, if you are afraid to go, you don't have to-" Layla places a hand on her shoulder.

"No, it's alright. Plus I'm the only one with powers left and you guys won't have me there to protect you" She smiles.

Layla gives Y/N a grin and continues to fasten the safety belt on her. After she begins to help Steven, which is rather an awkward moment since there is tension there. A romantic tension.

"You smell like him" Layla looks at Stevens lips and then to his eyes.

Y/Ns eyes widen and she slowly begins to look away, immediately finding interest in her bag. However she sneaks in glimpses to see what is happening, which she is surprised to see Layla trying to lean in for a kiss.

Sadly, Steven moves his head away, "Marcs trying to protect you from Khonshu"

Layla backs up and looks at him dazed, "What?"

"He thinks Khonshu Wants you for his Avatar, and he won't let that happen"

Y/N sighs at the disaster, "Great to ruin the mood".

"Well I don't need protection, I need honesty" Layla grabs a glove angrily and begins to put it on. She then begins to fasten Stevens's safety belt.

Suddenly Steven grabs Laylas shoulders.

"Wait..." Y/N looks at them with a puzzled look.

Steven then goes in for a kiss. Y/N gasps loudly and stares at them with her mouth ajar.

The kiss looks rather awkward but its a whole different pace for the day. They separate and Layla looks at him with an awkward smile, "Im gonna go down first, before I belay"

Layla begins walk to the cave and into the hole.

Y/N stands up and begins to slowly clap, walking closer to Steven. "Damn Steven my boy, I thought I would be the one to get my first kiss, guess not" she laughs.

"Oh shut it...do you think I made things awkward?"

"Well...kinda? She didn't slap you so that's a good sign I think. There is bad news though" she crosses her arms.

"What?" He cocks his head to the side

"Marc won't be liking this, he might be fuming in there," she says with a British accent.

Steven opens his mouth but is met with his fist plunging into his face. Y/N looks at him with shock and then erupts in a fit of laughter.

"That's not funny" Steven rubs his nose, "I have been punched twice now"

"It is kinda but hey I apologized for the first one!" Y/N chuckles as she begins to make her way into the cave.

Down at the hole, Layla walks over to a statue that sits by an entrance. She looks down smiling at the sand and begins to draw a symbol.

“Ah shit!” Y/N yells out as she descends down to the hole. Fortunately she was able to land on her two feet but she continued to grip on the rope for dear life. Layla chuckles and walks over to her and helps her get the safety belt off.

“Not so scary was it?” She teases Y/N.

“Not really, but falls like that still freak me out you know. Like this one time, I went on this one Jurassic World ride and there was this-,” Y/N pauses and looks at Layla sheepishly, “Sorry, I was about to ramble”

“It’s fine, I’d like to hear it” Layla smiles warmly at her.

“Yeah, but probably some other time since we’re kinda on a tight schedule” Layla nods, Y/N noticing the symbol that is behind her, “What’s that?”

Layla turns and sort of jumps at what she wrote being acknowledged, “Oh, it’s a symbol for my father. He would have loved it here”

“Hmm, I like that,” Y/N turns to Layla with a smile, “I think he’d be proud that you were able to come”

Layla returns a grin and thanks her. Noticing that the atmosphere has become cheesy, Y/N clears her throat and looks back at the symbol.

“So was he into Egypt?”

“Oh he wasn’t just into it, he was obsessed. He was an archeologist and would travel around the globe to find neat things. One of the main places he’d go would be here in Egypt” Layla breaths out as she remember the fond memories of her father.

“Heh, your dad and my grandpa would have gotten along just fine then” Y/N smiles down, touching one of the statues that sat there.

“He was an archeologist too?”

“Not exactly, he was just into history of all kind. Mesoamérica would be his top one but Egyptian history came second. Man, he would talk my ear off about all the facts” Y/N begins to draw the initials of her grandfather near the area that Layla drew, “I rambled didn’t I? Sorry”

Layla shakes her head and comes by, looking at the two figures. She squeezes Y/N’s shoulder, “Both of them would be proud of us right now”.

“Yeah…”

The two shared a moment of silence just staring at the statue infront of them. Y/N never really put a thought on Laylas personal life nor even tried to ask about it. Yet, she didn’t not regret being the second to come down hole and share small moment with her.

Of course moments don’t last this long since not even a second later is there a tumbling down with a scream. It felt like things went in slow motion in those few seconds and Y/N was able to see that Steven was falling. Although it was a small fall, it still pumped an adrenaline and caused her to bring her arms out and cause tentacles to wrap around Steven before he could fall.

Steven looked surprised and looked at the tentacles as they brought him to the ground. The limbs then went back into Y/N and she stood there with a smirk.

“Told you guys would need me” Steven rolled his eyes and dusted himself off.

“Perhaps you were. Did I miss anything?”

Layla shakes her head, “Not really”

Steven nods but then sees the statue behind Layla and Y/N, “Oh how beautiful”. He walks towards it and beams with excitement, “Oh if these came to life and told me to answer a riddle, I would not hesitate”

“I think I’d shit my pants if they did” Y/N tilts hee head as she continues to examine the sculptures.

“Alright, I believe we should start heading inside before Harrow comes” Layla points to the opening.

“Right,” Steven looks at Y/N and gestures her to go first.

The three go through the entrance which leads to a narrow, triangular tunnel. They continue and notice they are lead through turns and circles which leads them to a small room. In it, there is a cube table in the center made out of sand.

Layla shines a flashlight to one opening and then to another, “It’s a maze”

“It’s a-maze-ing” Steven laughs at his own joke.

“No like, there are six paths” Layla walks around the area.

Y/N stares at him, “Good effort, maybe add a bit more cheeriness”

“Oh I apologize, I didn’t know this was going to be critiqued”

Y/N snickers and shines a light around the room, trying to find any clues. She walks over to the small table and inspects it. Nothing.

“Man I would suck in escape rooms” Y/N rubs the back of her head.

Steven mutters ‘6 points’ and begins to draw on the sand on the table. While that happens, Layla picks up a few bullet shells, “What would they be shooting at?”

Y/N shrugs, “Who knows, maybe another avatar is trying to help us”

“Aha!” Steven exclaims and points to the drawing, “This whole structure is-“

“The Eye of Horus” Y/N comes closer to the table

“Look at you, I didn’t know you had any Egyptian facts in you” Steven teases.

Y/N eyes him down, “It’s the only thing I remember from our ex-job” she then looks down to the drawing.

“Ammits final Avatar was a pharaoh” Layla stares down.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but this is like a protection thingy no?” Y/N points at the doodle.

“Yup, for the royals. I am honestly proud you know this” Steven smiles at Y/N.

Y/N feels fuzzy, smiling back at him. It felt like an actual praise and not some fake thing to encourage you.

Steven begins to explain about the Eye of Horus and what each point represents; the 6 senses. The eyebrow which are for thoughts. Pupil sight. One corner of the eye is hearing. The other is smell. Another is touch. Lastly, the long curvy line is the tongue.

“The avatar would be Ammits voice” Layla looks up at Steven.

Click! The puzzle was solved and the three began to walk through the path that would be the tongue of the eye. It was another long tunnel but at the end they were met with a big and tall room. At the center was a table and on the sides were rectangle openings with what seemed to be mummies. On the walls there were Egyptian paintings.

Layla shines her light on one of the paintings, “Oh those are Heka Priests. They would have been entombed in here to protect the pharaoh”

“What is a Heka?” Y/N shines her flashlight on the mummies by the walls.

“Sorcerers of their time. They’ve been down here for centuries,” Layla then points to the bodies, “These must be the unlucky souls that crossed their path”

“Ahahah…shit I hope these guys are dead” Y/N breaths out.

The sound of gagging catches Y/N’s attention. Steven is covering his mouth and is looking down, “Oh my god”

Y/N walks to see what he is staring at and her eyes widen, “Oh hell no, is that blood?”

The two stares down at the table which has engravings and on it is the scarlet color splattered everywhere.

Layla gets close and examines it close.

“Oh god, are those chunky meaty bits?” Steven gags.

“Oh my god dude! Don’t describe it! I just got over what I saw back at that cliff” Y/N shivers at the memory of finding ‘not’ Marc killing men left and right.

“Right I’m sorry” Steven raises a hand up to Y/N.

Y/N uses her shirts collar to cover her nose from the smell. She walks around the table and finds jars of clay with the lid being shaped as a jackal. Some of the jars however are covered in red stains.

Layla picks up one of the tools that are set on the table, covered in more fresh blood.

“Alright we should keep moving” Layla begins to walk to the other opening and stops in her tracks.

On the floor, there is a trail of blood. As if someone dragged a corpse away from the table.

“Oh nope, nope. Nah dude, do you see horror movies? This is exactly what the dumb people do; follow the trail of blood” Y/N breaths out and begins to hyperventilate.

Steven notices and places a hand on Y/Ns back, “Hey, hey, hey. It’s alright. Nothing will happen. I’ll keep you safe, yeah?”

Y/N nods and begins to control her breathing again.

Steven breaths out in relief and looks around the room. He looks up to the second floor and finds a second opening.

“Look! Should we check it out?” Steven looks to Layla who is rubbing circles on Y/N.

She nods, “Alright you go up there”

“Wait me?”

So there goes Steven, climbing a ladder to the second floor. At the top, it looks like it was an area where the Heka Priests would store some of their items and even just keep the bodies there. Since there was one on wooden table.

“All good?” Layla asks.

“Yeah, oh look here,” he looks to a wall scripture, “It says here that Ammit should be bound to an ushabti. Those statue thingies”

Steven continues to look around and begins to list the different items that are used for the rituals. Obviously, getting distracted.

“Hey Steven!” Layla whisper-yells, “Remember the opening”

Steven says an ‘oh right’ and heads away from the balcony. Y/N who is now calmer, looks worriedly and begins to walk towards the ladder.

“Hey hey, where are you going?”

“Imma go with Steven, I have a feeling something’s bound to-“

“Hey it’s this way!” Steven tells

Suddenly there are gunshots that sound from outside. The three freeze up and look to the entrance that they came from.

“Harrow” Layla looks at Steven.

“What are they shooting at?”

“I dont-“ A clicking sound then cuts off Layla.

“Hide!” Y/N whispers.

“Wait Y/-“ Steven yells but stops when he sees a shadow loom from the tunnel they walked through.

Layla runs behind the table and crouches down. Steven runs to a nearby table as well and crouches down too. Unfortunately for Y/N, she has no other hiding spot but the upward grave of those unfortunate souls.

She runs to one and cringes as she moves one of the corpses to the side, hiding beneath it. Hiding in complete darkness and dead body, she holds her breath. A man looking creature then comes in while dragging the body of a man with a vest. It looks like a man who’s in his middle years and has a short beard. Seeing a resemblance, Y/N feels her heart stop.

It was the man who was in the picture. The one with the family.

She could hear her heart beating faster by the second. In her head she’s hoping it calms down, or else that thing will come for her. Her breaths are slow yet heavy as she stares as the thing takes out a knife. She looks over to Layla who is only a feet away from the monster.

Although it was dark she could see that the man-looking thing has a dark blue skin tone. It wears a golden chest plate with a collar adorned by jewels. It wears withered cloth at the bottom with a belt holding those same jars they saw.

A gushing sound is then heard and the groans of the man. It was obvious what it was doing yet Y/N was still at lost. That was until it pulled something out of the man’s torso and placed it inside on of the jars from before. Giving her a view of the man on the table, the imagery was explicit. From his stomach to his chest he had a long cut and Y/N swore she saw some of his intestines.

She felt her eyes well up with tears, remembering the picture that was under the bed. His kids would be waiting for their dad, not knowing that he was being killed in a gruesome way.

Aside from feeling sadness, she felt disgusted. Again, movies had a way to make you think you’d be able to handle scenes like these in real life. Still, Y/N felt like throwing up. She looks at one of the paintings above and then at the creature. In the paintings, the Heka Priests wear a golden collar with blue beads and jewels on it. Y/N looks back at the thing and notices it has the same collar. Realizing that the monster is a Heka Priest, it makes more sense what they have gotten into.

“What the actual fuck” she thought.

She continues to stare at Layla who is trying to get far away from the Heka. Slowly moving her body to behind the table, Y/N worries more now that she can't see Layla.

Layla continues to crawl away, more focused on the noise she's making than her surroundings, she knocks down one of the jars.

Y/N feels like she is about to throw up her heart as she sees the Heka stop and walks around the table trying to find the cause of the noise. It begins to make a clicking noise more loudly which creeps the three out more.

It begins to get closer to the other side of the table until a creaking from above takes its attention. It looks up at where Steven is hiding and jumps on the table to try to get a better view.

Steven tries to sit still but unfortunately causes the priest to jump to the bottom of the floorboard that he stands on. Steven gasps and stands up immediately. The priest begins to climb to Steven.

Y/N peeks and sees how her friend is about to die and looks around to try to find a way to distract it. The closest thing she has is the corpse that is in her space bubble. She breathes out and gets the courage. Does she have a plan? Not really, she is just hoping a god, maybe Hathor, can come and rescue them. Which doesn't happen.

Y/N pushes the corpse down which leads to a loud thud. The priest looks down and jumps off the small balcony. He lands right in front of Y/N and looks at her. She prepares to fight but another loud sound is met. The priest looks to where the sound of a jar being smashed to the wall comes from and sees Layla standing there.

"Run!" Y/N yells out and Layla listens.

Layla runs to the opening which they weren't going to go through in the first place. Y/N comes out of the hiding spot and breaths in deeply. She looks up and sees Steven looking down.

Y/N climbs up and is met with Steven grabbing her shoulders, "What were you thinking?!"

"Hey, I saved your ass!"

"Which put you in harm's way!" Steven breathes out, "Sorry, just don't do that again you understand? "

Y/N nods and Steven lets go of her. He looks to the other opening he was talking about, "Layla is probably on the other side"

The two walk through another tunnel, this time longer than the others. It was covered in sandstone in which you can tell it was starting to fall apart due to the cracks. The only thing illuminating the way was their flashlights.

Halfway, Steven looks at Y/N and sees how her expression carries paranoia and fatigue. The two hadn't slept in their own beds for about two days now. Y/N used to always joke around or keep a positive vibe but it seemed like the past events had put a pause to that. In spite of her trying to tease him earlier today, he could tell she was trying to distract herself. Steven didn't blame her, the poor girl was only worried about attending college in a new country. Instead of worrying about exams, she was now stressing over the end of the world.

Actually, what was she trying to study?

"Hey, I have been thinking and I realized I never asked you about what you were majoring" Steven looks at her.

She raises a brow, "Why are you asking all of a sudden?"

"Well it looks like we will be walking through this path for a while so might as well make small talk," He gestures to the lit tunnel, "Also because I am interested"

"...Nursing"

"Ah, so you want to be a nurse. That sounds fun" He grins at her but she only gives a half smile.

"Yeah... it's pretty cool"

Steven's eyes drew together, "It doesn't sound like you think it is"

Y/N looks down, "It...I mean it doesn't really matter, it makes good money"

"...Shouldn't you choose something that you like?"

Y/N stays quiet and shrugs.

Now that Steven thinks about it, he noticed how she was still a bit more cheerful until that phone call from last night. That's when Y/Ns mood went down.

"...So I may not fluently speak Spanish but that phone call from last night...it didn't sound like good news"

Y/N's shoulders become tense, "It was nothing, just family stuff you know"

"Alright, if you don't want to say, I won't force you. Just know I will gladly listen if you need to let a few things out"

Y/N breathes in and thinks for a while, "...I guess it was obvious huh?"

"Very"

She smiles and hesitates, "My mom saw a video of me using my powers to fight those guys at Mogarts place"

Steven's eyes widen but doesnt say anything which Y/N takes as a sign to continue.

"She asks if I'm in a gang or something. I of course say no. She tells me how I have disappointed her and my dad. That I'm just like my siblings, a disappointment"

Steven's brows wrinkle, in anger maybe, "Did you explain to her what was actually happening?"

"Tried to but she was full-on crying. So now she wants me to immediately head back home and study close” Y/N finally looks up to Steven.

“Well I can’t stand by that of course. Who else will share the afternoon gossip with me?” He elbows her gently.

Y/N laughs, “I mean, no one else can beat me…besides I’d be bored back at America”

The two begin to make their way out of the tunnel and into a room.

“It seems that the only way to prove to her, is if you do something great. Might I add something that can defeat a bad man and make you look like the hero” he gestures to what is inside the room.

The two carefully walk in, stepping over a stream that flows into a large square in the center. Many pillars stand with more painting on them while there are a few sculptures.

“A tomb gif for a pharaoh” Steven gapes at the scene, “Oh! Look at that! There’s Thutmose II and Nefertiti”

“Wait Nefertiti!? I think shes one of the greats no?” She shines a light at each tomb.

“Yup, which means the treasure we’re looking for should be here”

“Wait wait, we’re in an Egyptian tomb…last time someone came in they died unexpectedly…dude are we going to die?”

Steven scoffs, “Probably not…I hope”

They slowly walk up to the square, stepping on stones to avoid falling into the water.

“So you kissed her”

“You heard that?” Y/N whips her head around.

“Yeah it’s just Marc”

“Ohh, he must be angry with you then”

Steven nods and looks down at his reflection on the water. “What are you gonna do? Drown us?”

“I should”

They climb up the square and lay eyes on a sarcophagus. Steven gets closer and begins to inspect it, muttering about Macedonian.

“It can’t be…” Steven stares down at the sarcophagus.

“Wait what?”

“I think we’re looking at the long lost tomb of Alexander the Great”

The tomb is what King Tuts looks like except more withered and not as bright. Except the gold being the thing making it stand out.

“Oh my god! Let me take a pic- wait is that allowed? Would I get cursed?” Y/N holds her phone to her chest.

“Us being here is probably already a no-no rule”

Steven looks down and bites his lip, “There are so many alarms telling me to not open this thing”

“You want Harrow to get to Ammit first?”

“Oh I can hear him now” Y/N looks at a nearby reflection of Marc, “Hey my guy, been long. Definitely had no part in keeping you hostage by the way”

“Yeah, missed you too”

Steven places his palms on the lid of the tomb and begins to push. Seeing him struggle, Y/N moves to his side and also begins to push the top off.

Inside, a body wrapped tightly in cloth lays there. Its arms are crossed and on it is a piece made out of gold with two circles connected by wings. By the torso, there is a golden axe with designs on the blade.

"We are definitely cursed now" Y/N breathes out

"Well if you keep saying it, you might just manifest it," Steven says in an eery tone to try to freak her out.

Y/N pauses and stares at Steven.

"You'll be fine don't worry, is the ushabti one of those things?"

Steven shakes his head, "Well if you were trying to hide it for all eternity, you wouldn't want it to be this easy to find"

Y/N snaps her fingers and points at Steven, "Wait! You know how the tongue is a symbol for voice and it's also the thing that brought us here? Wouldnt the ushabti be hidden in the mouth or something?"

"Alexander was the voice of Ammit, yes!" Steven exclaims but then slouches seeing the corpse, "Oh dear..."

It doesn't take long for Y/N to understand and looks down at the body, "That's all you buddy" she pats his back.

Steven breathes in and begins to rip the wrappings from the neck up. Alexander the Great's skull is then unveiled.

Steven then grabs the jaw ad opens it up. Seeing that there is nothing in the mouth, Steven begins to slowly put his whole arm down the body's throat.

"Thats right, get in there"

"Maybe just pretend you're touching a bowl of spaghetti?" Y/N rambles and continues to give details.

"Y/N"

"Yeah?"

"That's not really helping"

"My bad" she backs away to give him space.

Steven continues digging around until his eyes widen and pull his arm back out.

"I got it!" He holds up a small ceramic statue of a half-woman and half-crocodile.

"You got it!" Y/N yells out.

The two go in for a hug but Y/N pulls away immediately. Steven looks at her puzzled.

"We can hug when I know you don't got mummy guts on you"

Steven rolls his eyes playfully, "Wait until Layla comes-"

On cue, Layla walks into the tomb and closer to them.

"Layla!" Y/N runs up to her and hugs her, "You're okay!" but she doesn't return it.

She backs away and looks at her funny. She knows this feeling, she has learned how to sense someone's feelings. And Layla was not happy.

Layla continues to walk up to Steven, keeping a few feet of space in between.

"Can he hear me?" Layla says in a serious tone

"Alexander? I don't think so, god I hope not" He gives an awkward smile.

"What happened to my father?"

The atmosphere becomes thick and it becomes uncomfortable. Y/N looks at Steven who is as lost as her. Layla gets closer to Stevens face, "Im talking to you Marc!"

She shoves Steven and his eyes begin to flutter back. His body language becomes firm and tense.

"Y/N go look for a way out" Marcs tells her without looking at her.

To Y/N it translates to "Me and mom are about to argue, go to your room so you don't listen". She gives one last look at them and heads out to the opening that they came from.

Remembering that there are more of Harrow men at where they came out in from, she decided to go to the other path to maybe see a hidden passage.

"Man that was awkward" She shines the light around the tunnel trying to see if there is a sign of an exit.

She wonders if Marc is doing alright handling Layla's yelling. No judgment if he was terrified, she was too. She continues walking through the path and stops to see that it led her to a small room with more statues. One that catches her eyes is one that has the head of what looks like a Doberman and the body of a man.

"I feel like I should know your name. Know how to get out of here?"

"His name is Anubis, God of the Dead" a males voice is heard from behind.

Y/N turns and sees the elderly man who is the cause of all this. The one who ruined her first day of College and now is trying to end the world.

"Oh hell no" She begins to walk away but is stopped by two men who are pointing their guns at her.

"Let's chat, shouldn't we? I don't think we really got to know each other," he walks towards them.

"How about no? With much offense, you creep me out so..."

"You know, your grandfather was an extraordinary man"

This grabs Y/Ns attention, "How do you know him?"

"Well Ammit is connected to death, so I usually like to learn more about the ones who have passed on" he walks around Y/N, "What I learned was that he was the only company that you probably had and probably the only person who understood you"

Y/N bites the inside of her mouth as tears well up, "What about it? H-How is this relevant to-"

"To what I said to you back at Mogarts. It's obvious that you find comfort in not only Marc but in Layla too"

Y/N stares down as Harrow continues to talk.

"It makes sense now on why you continue to follow them," He gets close to Y/N, "Why not join me and not only will you make your parents proud again but I can offer you to see your grandfather"

Y/N stays quiet, thinking. Her whole life she has tried to make her parents happy. To be the one that is the star of the whole family. Aside from trying to make all the aunts, uncles, and cousins envious. What next?

She never really thought of a Plan B.

The main question is, what would Marc, Steven, and Layla think? They'd be disappointed of course.

She thought about all the things they have done.

Working with Steven was fun, probably more entertaining than hanging out with her friends back home. He was kind and actually caring, looking out for her well-being.

Marc was eventful. Although she had only known him for a day or two, he taught her how to be strong. How to fight. But most of all he stood by her side and put up with all her antics. He was rather funny and also looked out for her.

Layla was sweet. There were times when she thought Layla would yell at her. Like back at the hideout when she was too scared to use her powers. She was patient and was like an older sister to her.

"What about it Y/N?"

Harrow's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up at him and he held a hand out to her. She looked at it as her breath shook. She forgot that she was scared right now. She gulped and looked into his eyes.

No one else would be able to make her feel loved, safe, and accepted like the three have.

She moved her hand to Harrows but stopped, "...Im good"

She thrust her hand at his chest, summoning a tentacle to make him fly across the room. The rest of the men started to shoot but she used her extended limbs to grab them all, crushing them.

Throwing the men away from the path she came from, she tried to run but heard a gun being loaded. She looked back and saw Harrow pointing a gun to her.

Bang! Bang!

Two gunshots.

She used her tentacles to block them. She heard metal clink on the floor and she looked down to see a bullet flattened.

"...You missed" She smiles

"You only caught one"

Y/N looks at him confused and looks down. She sees that her shirt is getting stained by a red substance. It is around her chest and notices blood oozing out as she presses her palm on it.

"What?" her breath is shaky as she looks at her bloody hand.

Looking up, she begins to run away back to the others.

Harrow stares at her as she leaves.

"Do we go after her?" One of his men ask.

He shakes his head, "Lets wait a moment, let them have a moment to say goodbye"

"Thats the reason we met. You just had a guilty conscious" Layla wipes tears off of her face.

"Im sorry" Marc quietly says.

The two stand there in silence before gunshots are heard from far away. The two look at each other.

"It can't be those Heka Priests" Marc looks around, worry beginning to come.

Layla shakes her head slowly and looks around, "Y/N hasn't come back"

They hear small steps, and a shadow is seen limping their way. Y/N comes out with a hand under her chest. Blood seeped through her fingers, dripping down. The color of her skin was beginning to fade.

"Marc? Layla? I think i-" She stumbled to the floor.

They ran to her, Marc catching her. He brought her away from the entrance and kneeled, placing her gently down.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" She continued to say as she choked back the tears.

"Its okay, your okay" Marc said quickly as he tried to put pressure on the wound.

"I know you told me to be careful but, but I-" Tears flowed down her face.

Layla looked through her bag trying to find bandages.

"Shh shh, I'm not angry don't worry. You just gotta hang on" He looked to Layla to see if she had anything but there was nothing.

Marc's voice broke but he continued to hold himself together. Y/N slowly began to feel her limbs going numb.

"Marc...I'm scared. I don't want to die" She cried

"You're not dying alright, I won't let that happen" He squeezed her hand.

He then began to feel her hand become loose, and he looked back at her face. Her eyes softened and the shine in her eyes disappeared. Layla covered her mouth and tears started to spring out.

Marc's eyes widened and he started to shake Y/Ns body, "Hey, Hey! Come on! Don't forget we still have that deal! We still have to figure out whos food spot is best"

Layla placed a hand on his shoulder, "Marc stop...She's gone"

Marc couldn't hold it anymore and all the tears he held in came out. He brought Y/Ns body close, the first time he hugged her but she wouldn't even know.

The only words that went through his mind were "Your fault"

More steps started to come and Marc looked at Layla, "Go! I'll hold them off"

Layla took one last look at Y/Ns body and ran to hide. Marc stood up and grabbed the golden axe from the tomb.

"Come on!" He stood in a stance as he waited.

A large group of men came out with Harrow.

"I remember the first morning that I woke up, knowing Khonshu was gone" Harrow looks up at him.

Marc looks at him with anger and hatred in his eyes, "Im going to kill you"

Harrow tilts his head and then looks at the lifeless body of Y/N, "I apologize that I killed your friend but she wasn't letting reason talk to her. Now don't make that same wrong choice"

Marc huffed, "...Okay"

One of the men slowly walked up to Marc trying to get the ushabti. However, Marc grabbed the gun and used the axe to chop the hand of the man. As he was going to continue to fight the other one who charged at him, Harrow brought his gun up and shot Marc three times.

Marc fell down, into the pool of water that surrounded the sarcophagus. Layla stared in shock, trying to cover her scream. Not only did she lose one friend but now her husband.

Harrow continued to stare down to make sure he was dead, "I can't help those who don't want to be helped"

Harrow then walked away with his men following.

Once gone, Layla came out of the shadows and pulled Marc out of the water and dragged him with Y/N.

She looked at the two and broke down crying. She placed both hands on the bodies and cried.

She was truly alone now.

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Let's ignore my almost 30 days of no update lmao

My bad thought but for real college is fucking me in the ass with the amount of work. As I type this, I have a research paper waiting for me.

Also, I hope I didn't make yall cry/sad

Also if shit dont make sense, its cuz I had writers block cockblocking me and I was trying to get to the knitty gritty. Anyways enjoy :)

Tags:

@itsjusspele @dustyinkpages

Feel free to ask me to add you in the taglist :)

#marc spector x reader #marc spector #steven grant x reader #platonic #hispanic reader #steven grant x teen!reader #marc spector x teen!reader #steven grant #latina reader

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wingsofimagery · 10 months

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Healing Aurora | Prologue

❂ Summary: Supernatural Inn & Spa Owner/Keeper!MC x Multi-route (haha... ik) ❂ Characters: ATEEZ, Stray Kids, TXT, Lee Chaeryeong, Miyawaki Sakura, Huening siblings ❂ Genre: General/Supernational ❂ Warnings: N/A ❂ Word Count: 760 ❂ A/N: Don't yall just love that I disappear for a long time and come back with a new work that's either never updating again or is a disappointment? LOL JK... Life's been a bit—way—rough lately but please enjoy! I'd appreciate likes and/or reblogs. Please give my works some love! Comments not mandatory~ ** TO THE IMPORTANT PART: Please note this story can be read out of order... kinda. ** Banner credit to my friend, she was so sweet to help me make simple mood banners for each chara so just you wait~ LOL

One moment, your eyes were closed to take a nap; the next, they opened to meet the eyes of a fennec fox. Round and glossy, the eyes peered deep into you. You blinked, and it blinked back in response. What it does next freaked you out.

“Oh good! I’m going to tell Chan-hyung you woke up!” it chirped.

“YOU SPEAK!” you screeched, sitting up immediately in shock.

“What do you mean? Oh no, you lost your memories, didn’t you? We were warned about this. I was hoping it wasn’t true! S-stay right there!”

The fox did not wait for you to respond. Instead, it ran straight out toward the destination it had in mind.

While you sat there contemplating whether to make or break for it; you paused to take in what the fox said. Lost memories? You looked around the room and realized how different it was from the one you were accommodated to. Indeed the color was your favorite color, but everything else seemed different from your own room. You were highly confused about where you were, but somewhere in your heart, this place feels like home.

The door slid open, and in walked three additional figures, though the fox was nowhere to be seen. They were humans, but something told you they were not so simply put. The one with pointed ears (you found yourself curious but not surprised) took your hand in his. He watched your eyes twinkle with recognition.

“It seems I don’t have to reintroduce myself. How do you feel, my princette?”

You shifted from your position, then shrugged your shoulders. You could not give him a proper answer. You did not feel terrible, but you did not feel good either. You were in a state between indifference and confusion, but you knew his name and who he was to you. You wish you could say the same for the other two.

“I am not really sure, Soobin. I’m feeling so out of it. It’s not even funny,” you scoffed in disbelief when his name left your lips. How were you able to suddenly remember his name?

“Well, princette, let’s start with something easy. Like, do you remember us?”

Your gaze fell upon the half-black half-blond-haired individual who questioned you. You shook your head. You then looked at the person next to him, his orange hair stood out but, again, you shook your head, unable to recognize him.

“How did you know who Soobin is?”

“I don’t,” you replied, “I touched Soobin’s hand and suddenly I know who he is.”

“Just his name?”

“Everything that has to do with him.”

“Is that why your eye sparkled like a shooting star passing through the sky?” The cruella-haired asked.

“You noticed that too,” orange noted, “let’s test it out.”

He walked forward and asked for your hand, to which you wordlessly placed on top of his. Once again, a dim white light flashed across your eyes, catching all three’s attention.

“Chan.”

“Princette.”

A smile was shared between the two of you before the cruella-haired male asked for his turn. You obliged and, for the third time in moments, your eyes gleamed in the exact way Hongjoong had described it. So that was his name.

“Welcome back, Princette,” he softly kissed the back of your hand before pulling back to stand with Chan and Soobin.

“Looks like we’re going to have to reintroduce you to everyone through touch slowly. It’s a good thing the method of regaining memory is discovered early,” Chan nodded, happy to know the problem was not that big of a problem to begin with.

“It will be a bit of a journey since there’s quite a many of us,” Soobin commented with a sigh but was smiling nonetheless.

“Let’s get a head start then. Are you ready to get out of bed, Princette? It’s about time we got you some food as well,” Hongjoong presented you with his hand again.

Grabbing hold of his hand, you walked with him, Chan, and Soobin out of the room you were staying in. Whatever awaited you on the other side was surely going to be a feat, but you had a feeling nobody here would harm you. Questions arose, many of which were answers that would not be so simply answered by yourself— or quite possibly the others. Just how long will it take to regain the memories of this life? Will you retain the memories of the other life? You were deep in thought, allowing Hongjoong to guide you to wherever you guys were heading.

#txt scenarios #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #ateez scenarios #stray kids x reader #txt x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #ateez x reader

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spring-heeledjack · 2 years

Text

Never Good Enough

stanley parable fandom come get yalls juice

also i may have exaggerated how mean the narrator is on accident but shhhhh

also also this was based on a video by @/nateisanerd on tik tok!

“All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room; perhaps he had simply missed a memo."

Stanley trudged through the first office area. This worried The Narrator. The last two runs, Stanley seemed a little…different. Bored, maybe? It was possible. Usually, Stanley had this look in his eye that could only be described as a rebellious spark. But during those last two runs, where he got The Freedom Ending and The Wife Ending, that spark wasn’t there.

Gradually, Stanley made it to the meeting room.

“Yet there was not a single person here either. Feeling a wave of disbelief, Stanley decided to go up to his boss's office, hoping he might find an answer there.”

Stanley gave no sign that he heard The Narrator, he just lumbered around the big table in the middle of the room and walked down the hallway.

As he walked, Stanley passed by the broom closet. Stopping in his tracks, he turned around to look at the door of the closet.

“Now, Stanley, I know you’re not going to sit in that broom closet for another couple- Stanley!”

Stanley ignored The Narrator and walked back to the broom closet, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. The Narrator sighed as Stanley sat in the corner of the closet, playing with the buttons of his shirt.

“No, no, no, I refuse to encourage this behavior. Really, Stanley, I thought I could trust you! I even took the wooden planks off the doorway! After all the times you’ve walked down this hallway and ignored the broom closet, just to relapse and go back to your old, destructive ways? Truly, Stanley, I am quite disappointed in you.”

Again, Stanley made no gesture to show that he had heard The Narrator’s words. That didn’t mean that he didn’t, however. Stanley listened to every word The Narrator had said, but one phrase stuck to him like a life-draining tick.

‘I am disappointed in you.’

Stanley pulled his knees up to chest.

“When you’re done with this pathetic display of disobedience, just open that door and step outside. I’ll be waiting on you to continue the story.”

‘Pathetic.’

Stanley screwed his eyes shut.

Why did it seem that no matter if he followed directions or not, The Narrator always had something degrading to say about him? It wasn’t like he was always looking for ways to annoy him, he was just curious about the rest of the world The Narrator had created. He didn’t even mind following orders at first.

During his second to last run, Stanley did everything The Narrator said. He followed along with the plot and got to the ending he wanted him to get to. It did feel a little nice, not arguing with The Narrator at every corner. But still, when the game reset, the first thing he said was, ‘See, Stanley? Was that so hard?’

Then, Stanley went through the right door and fell off the platform. The Narrator went on about how Stanley had really shown him, sarcastically commenting on how powerful he was, psychoanalyzing him over an accident.

Then he got The Wife Ending. He mostly did it so he could rest on the fake apartment’s couch for a short while before the game was reset. He also wanted to hear a voice other than The Narrator’s, just for a couple seconds.

Then, The Narrator said, ‘Who’d want to commit their life to you?’

Stanley let out a shaky breath. The first time he’d gotten that ending he really thought that was his wife he was hearing. Then, the mannequin's voice glitched and the hope that had been welling in his chest deflated. The Narrator laughed at him.

Stanley began to rock himself back and forth. He hummed to himself, a little song he remembered from his childhood.

Or rather, the childhood memories that The Narrator programmed into him.

It was a weird feeling, to miss a person who never existed. He had vague memories of a childhood best friend. He remembered scampering up the ladder of a tree house with him, or maybe it was a her? Whenever Stanley tried to picture the people from his memories in too much detail, his head began to ache.

He also remembered playing baseball with said best friend, and then being grounded for pitching the ball through his parents’ bedroom window. Stock images in memory form.

Stanley also remembered having a wife. Maybe that’s why The Wife Ending upset him so much. Maybe it was because he remembered having a wife who’d chastise him for never buttoning his shirt properly before work and would do it for him despite his protests.

Stanley hadn’t realized it, but he was crying.

Why was nothing he did ever good enough for The Narrator? It never mattered if he followed his directions, Stanley could never live up to the expectations of the ‘perfect protagonist’ that The Narrator had set for him.

Nothing he did was ever good enough.

It had been almost half an hour and Stanley still hadn’t left the broom closet. Albeit, Stanley had stayed in the broom closet for longer than that, almost half an hour was still long enough to have The Narrator itching with impatience.

The Narrator was growing impatient. He was doing his best to ignore Stanley’s latest attempt at showing he was in control, but he had to admit, he was getting… lonely. It was strange, not having Stanley with him, not talking to him.

He told himself that he’d wait five more minutes before checking in on Stanley.

He got to two before he caved.

“Stanley, it’s been half an hour! What in the world are you-”

The Narrator cut himself off. Before he popped into the broom closet, he pictured his protagonist curled up, fast asleep on the ground. Or maybe he would be leaning against a wall, or playing around with the broom?

Of all the things Stanley could’ve been doing in the broom closet, The Narrator wasn’t expecting to see his beloved protagonist wedged in a corner, pulled into a tight ball, rocking back and forth.

“S-Stanley? Stanley, what's wrong?”

Stanley lifted his head over so slightly, glancing up at the ceiling with a tearful eye. He didn’t respond with any sort of gesture, he only screwed his eyes shut and hid his face in his knees.

“Stanley, come out, won’t you?”

Stanley curled tighter into himself, reaching one hand up to run it through his hair.

“Oh, Stanley.” The Narrator sighed. His tone almost had Stanley lifting his head. “Have I upset you in some way, Stanley? It’s alright, you can tell me.”

Stanley peered up from his knees at the ceiling. His eyes were red.

“Hm…”

Stanley took a moment to breathe. Having his knees pressed so hard against his chest was really restricting his breathing. He rubbed his face.

“Give me a moment, Stanley. I have an idea.”

Stanley unfurled his legs just a tad. He was annoyed when The Narrator first arrived in the broom closet. He wanted to be alone and stay alone. But on the other hand, the feeling of The Narrator’s presence and the sound of his voice had pulled Stanley out of his spiraling thoughts.

Also, The Narrator’s presence was soothing in and of itself. Stanley hated that. Stanley hated that The Narrator made him feel even the slightest bit better when he was the source of his anxiety. Hell, it was possible that The Narrator had programmed that into him along with the fake memories.

After a little while, the game reset, and Stanley was back in his office.

He sighed.

Slowly, Stanley stood and stepped out of his office, running through The Narrator’s lines in his head before he had even spoken them.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized that he wasn’t in the office. Instead, he seemed to be in a bedroom.

The carpet was plush under his bare feet, and the walls were a dark, soothing green. The king sized bed in the corner of the room was sitting under a broad window with tiny potted plants decorating the windowsill. It seemed to be the middle of the night.

Inspecting the room further, Stanley came upon a framed photo of a metal bucket. Despite himself, Stanley smiled.

Looking down at himself, he seemed to be in pajamas.

“There! I hope that you find everything to your liking, Stanley. I even went through the trouble of searching through the office to see what colors came up the most so that I could give this bedroom a novel, yet soothing feeling.”

Stanley pointed to the bed with a raised eyebrow.

“Ah, yes, the bed. You may have noticed that you don’t have needs like other humans do. You don’t feel hunger pains, dehydration, a need to go to the bathroom, or a need for sleep. I decided to change that, if only for a little while.”

Stanley sat on the end of the bed, kicking his feet slightly as he listened to The Narrator go on.

“You see, I did a little research on human needs right before I reset. My studies showed that humans typically feel quite tired after intense emotional stress, and so I decided to temporarily enact your human need for sleep in hopes that you would wake up feeling energized and motivated.”

Stanley smiled a little. The Narrator was right, he did like the room. The little plants on the windowsill and the dark city outside were nice touches.

However, the knowledge that The Narrator could simply modify certain aspects of his biology sent apprehension creeping up his spine. If The Narrator could so easily change those things about him, then was it possible that he could completely alter who Stanley was altogether? Could The Narrator just erase Stanley if he ever got bored of him, discard and create a new, more obedient protagonist? Would he ever get bored of him?

“Now, listen to me. Prattling on as usual. Rest, Stanley. You’ve earned it.”

The minor praise in no way outweighed all of the insults The Narrator had spat at him, but even still, it made Stanley’s heart swell.

Sighing with contentment, he crawled up the bed and wormed underneath the warm covers. One of the blankets seemed to be weighted.

“Well, I’ll let you sleep then. I’ll only come back once you’ve woken up on your own accord.”

Stanley clapped his hands to get The Narrator’s attention before he left.

“Hm? Yes, Stanley?”

Looking out the window as a means to avoid ‘eye contact’ with The Narrator, Stanley signed, ‘Will you get bored?’

“Bored? Bored of what? Of you? Oh, Stanley,” The Narrator chuckled. “How could I ever get bored of perfection? No, no, no, Stanley, you are my protagonist! Your character and personality are what make The Stanley Parable interesting! There would be no Stanley Parable without you.”

That wasn’t the response Stanley was hoping for, but it was still comforting in its own strange way. He brought the topmost blanket up to his face to hide his smile. It was moments like these when he forgot that The Narrator held complete control over everything around him and could sentence him to an eternity of repeated deaths if he wanted to.

“Will I get bored of you, honestly…” The Narrator chuckled to himself. “Of all the silly notions…”

With that, The Narrator’s presence faded away until Stanley was alone in the bedroom. He waited a little while to make sure The Narrator was truly gone before he settled. He thought about how empty the room felt now that he really was alone. It was almost cold, in a sense.

Stanley didn’t dwell on the thought for long. He curled under the thick, warm, heavy blankets of the bed made specifically for him, and gradually dozed off into a dreamless sleep, where no anxious, questioning thoughts of his autonomy and whether or not he could trust his own mind could follow him.

#wilde.fic #love them they are sooooo healthy #the stanley parable #tsp stanley #tsp narrator #stanarrator #i think? incredibly unhealthy stanarrator at least

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

TWO LINES

A/N: yall know im a sucker for dadrry and writing another one was just so fun for me, i thought i would write more about them! so i decided to write more oneshots from that universe, you'll be able to find the stories in the masterpost i've created, link is just down below :) feel free to send me prompts about what you'd like to see happen in this universe!

PAIRING: husband!dad!Harry X Reader

WARNINGS: struggles to get pregnant

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

MORE FROM THE ANOTHER ONE UNIVERSE

Three minutes have never felt longer ever in your life. As you sit on the lid of the toilet, the pregnancy test laid out on the counter, an alarm set on your phone to signal when the waiting is over, but you already checked it about three times to see if it hasn’t stopped, because you were convinced it should have been over already.

“Come on, come on!” you mumble under your breath, legs shaking anxiously. Originally, you wanted to wait for Harry to do this, but you just couldn’t stop yourself, you needed to know. You’ve been feeling off all day and your period should have come yesterday, everything adding up to convince you that you’re finally pregnant. You’ve been trying for baby number four for about three months now, but all your previous tests came back negative and the more failure you had to endure, the harder it’s getting to keep your hopes up that you’ll get pregnant again.

This is gonna be the one, you know. You can feel the change in you and it has to be a baby. It needs to be or you’re losing your mind. Harry is picking up the kids today, they can be home anytime and you really want to welcome him with the good news, you could have your first appointment later this week, checking in on the little bean.

Your phone goes off finally, making you jump up from the lid as if it was on fire as you grab the test from the counter and check the result. However the excitement quickly turns into something bitter and painful.

One line.

There’s no question it’s only one. No faded second line, nothing you could hold onto and give yourself hope. It’s a negative test, meaning that you’re not pregnant.

“Fuck,” you sob as you break down crying, sitting down to the bathroom rug as you hug your knees to your chest. This was not how it was supposed to happen, you were so sure it’s gonna be positive this time! You’ve been trying for long enough to make you worried.

What if you won’t get pregnant again? You joked about three kids being your limit, but what if it really is? You think about how disappointed Harry will be if you tell him you didn’t get pregnant this month either, and you feel like you’re failing him, not giving him what he wants. But you want it too, you’ve gotten so into the idea of having another baby, having to face this failure will scar you for sure.

You cry and sob and whimper, gasping for air until your eyes turn red and your lungs sting. It takes several minutes to get yourself to leave the bathroom floor. Feeling like hiding from the world, you go to your shared closet with Harry and reach for one of his bigger hoodies that completely swallows your figure.

The front door opens and the happy chatter of your kids fills the house, following Harry’s deep voice. You quickly wipe your cheeks and try to rub your eyes dry, a pair of small feet thumping up the stairs and you recognize Ellie’s steps right away.

“Mummy! Are you here?” she calls out for you. Taking a deep breath you step out of the closet just when she barges into the bathroom.

“Hey, Bunny. Did you have a good day?” You force a smile to your face as you pick her up and hug her to you, a tad bit tighter than you usually do.

“Mummy, are you sad?” she asks, examining you with a worried look on her face. She is still wearing the dress you put on her for school, her hair that was once braided is messy, unruly curls bouncing around her face. She looks so much like Harry, though her eyes are definitely yours.

“No, just a bit tired. Everything is fine,” you smile at her, kissing her cheek. “Why don’t you go and change? Do you have homework?”

“I do. Will you help me?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you downstairs,” you tell her, putting her down and watching her run out of the room.

You want to head down too, but instead, you just sit on the edge of the bed, tears stinging your eyes again as you think about how long it’s been when Ellie was a baby and that if you

don’t fall pregnant again, you won’t get to experience having a baby again.

Ellie changes from her pretty dress, dropping it into the hamper like she was taught before she runs back down to get her homework from her backpack. The twins are in the living room, playing with the toys they brought from their room in the morning while Harry is putting away their lunchboxes in the kitchen.

“Where’s mum, Ellie?” Harry asks her, pressing a kiss to her head as he walks past her.

“Daddy, I think mum is sad,” she hums, sitting to the dining table to get her books and pencils out. Harry freezes, turning back to his daughter.

“Why do you think she’s sad?”

“She was crying when I went into your room. Is she sick?” she asks, worry all over her adorable face.

“I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll go check in on her. Keep an eye on your sister and brother, will you?”

Ellie nods as Harry heads upstairs, taking two steps at once. The room to your bedroom is slightly ajar and he hears your sniffling before he sees you. Pushing the door open he finds you sitting on the bed, your face buried in your hands and his heart breaks right away seeing you like this.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He is quick to rush to your side, pulling you to his chest as you sob into his shirt. “Hey, whatever it is, we’re gonna figure it out. Just talk to me, please,” he murmurs softly, kissing the top of your head.

He gives you time to calm down and when you’re finally not sobbing you pull away, wiping your cheeks again. You probably look like a mess, your nose snotty, eyes puffy from all the crying you did so far, but he has seen you way worse before.

Without a word, you get up, walk into the bathroom and grab the negative test from the counter. Harry watches you like a hawk, his arm coming to curl around you as you sit back next to him, handing him the test.

“Oh baby…” he breathes out, putting it aside so he can hold you with both of his arms. “This is what got you so upset? It’s alright, we’ll keep trying, don’t stress yourself about it.”

“But what if I won’t get pregnant? What if I really did reach my limit?” you choke out, burying your face into his chest as he holds you tight. “I’m sorry I disappointed you,” you add in a whisper, but it’s like a slap across Harry’s face.

“Hey, none of that,” he sternly tells you, pulling away so he can look into your eyes. His hands cup your tear soaked cheeks as he looks down at you. “You could never disappoint me, especially not with something like this.”

“But you want this baby so much and I want it too, but we’ve been trying for three months and it should have happened by now…”

“Just because we got lucky the first two times, it doesn’t mean it’s gonna be the same now. Three months is not that long, okay? And we have time, we can keep trying, it will happen in its own time.”

“And what if it doesn’t happen?” you ask with trembling lips.

“Then nothing changes, we have three beautiful kids, it’s already perfect, with or without another baby.”

“You won’t be mad if I don’t get pregnant again?” you ask in a broken whisper.

“Oh baby, I could never. You already gifted me with three amazing babies and I’m so happy with what we got. Please don’t beat yourself up about this, I don’t want you to wreck yourself because of it.”

“I love you,” you breathe out, wrapping your arms around his neck as you fight your emotions to get you to stop crying already.

“I love you too, Y/N. So much. Just take it easy, it will happen if it was meant to happen, okay?”

You just nod, kissing his neck a few times before pulling back. You feel so relieved already, knowing that it was a mistake to ever think Harry would be anything but kind and loving towards you even with all the failures you’ve been facing.

“Why don’t you take a shower or a bath, I’ll help Ellie with her homework and then we can make dinner together, how does that sound?” he hums, gently rubbing your back.

“No, I want to help Ellie. I want to… I want to be with the kids,” you tell him pouting and Harry gets you right away. Focusing on them will most likely take your mind off of the negative test.

“Alright, whatever you want,” he smiles nodding, kissing your forehead.

You take a quick shower, don’t want to get too deep in your thoughts. Dressed in Harry’s hoodie and a pair of comfortable yoga pants you head down, finding Harry in the living room with all three of your kids, looking very much like they are plotting something.

“Hey guys,” you greet the suspiciously, their heads snapping up at your arrival.

“Okay, now!” Harry whisper yells and a moment later you’re under attack.

Max is the first one to throw himself at you, then comes Maddie and then Ellie, all three of them hugging and kissing you, telling you how much they love you.

“Oh my God!” you chuckle, kneeling down so they can reach you better, Max climbs to your back and Maddie is giggling as she kisses your nose. You look Harry’s way who is watching you with a wide smile from the couch.

“Daddy said you needed extra love today!” Ellie explains, laying her head to your shoulder.

“Ah, you are so sweet,” you breathe out, touched by the gesture as you hug them to you the best you can. “I love you guys so much,” you murmur into Maddie’s hair.

“And we love you too, mum!” Max laughs from behind you, hanging from you like a little monkey.

Letting them go is a little hard, but you need to if you don’t want to start crying again. Harry was right. Even if this fourth baby doesn’t happen, you still have such an amazing family, you have nothing to be sad about.

Having late night snacks with Harry has always been your favorite especially since you’ve become parents. Once the kids are down and you have some privacy, you often use this time to love on each other, but other times it’s not what you desire.

You’ve been moaning about wanting fries all day to Harry and he was sneaky enough to get a pack of frozen fries on his way home. Ellie went to bed with no problem after Harry read her a bedtime story and the twins were tired enough to fall asleep fast as well. Now as you’re making your way downstairs, you find your husband standing in the kitchen, his gaze fixated on the air fryer that’s most likely filled with fries.

“Oh God, I’ve been thinking about this all day!” you groan, grabbing plates from the cupboard.

“I should be offended that I’m not the one on your mind all day,” he huffs, pretending to be hurt, but you don’t miss the smirk that curls the corner of his mouth.

“You are too! But fries beat you today,” you snort, but kiss his shoulder blade moving past him.

Soon enough, the two of you are sitting at the kitchen island with a pile of fries in front of you, munching on it like you didn’t have dinner just a few hours ago.

“This needs ketchup,” Harry hums, walking over to the fridge.

“Can you grab the mustard too?”

“Mustard?” he gasps, but grabs it either way as he walks back to his previous seat. “I haven’t seen you eating mustard in ages!”

“I know!” you groan. “But I’m really craving it.”

“Last time you wanted mustard as if your life depended on it you were pregnant with the twins.”

You both freeze at his words, processing what he just said. Slowly you turn to face him, dropping the fry you were holding.

“And also when I was pregnant with Ellie,” you add, your eyes growing wider.

“Have you… when was your last period?” Harry asks in a whisper, the food long forgotten as he hops off his stool and you follow him while doing the quick math.

“I think… oh God, I’m like five days late! That’s a lot!” you gasp, realizing that you completely forgot about your period. You’ve had a busy week with work and Ellie’s school project you’ve been helping her to put together, it totally slipped your mind that you should have gotten your period earlier this week.

“Do you have any tests you haven’t used?”

“Yes, I have one, come on!” you grab his hand and you run up to your bathroom as if it was a race.

Just as you remembered it, the test is in the drawer where you put about two months ago when you and Harry agreed that you’d take the baby project a little easier, not forcing anything after your breakdown. That worked so well that you kind of forgot about it completely, right until two minutes ago.

Harry stays in the bathroom with you as you pee on the stick and then set it to the counter, setting an alarm on your phone. The two of you sit on the edge of the bathtub, hands tangled together as you anxiously wait for the three minutes to pass.

“Baby, if it comes back negative, it’s gonna be alright, okay? Don’t want you to feel bad about it,” he reminds you, kissing the side of your head.

“I know. We’re good. I love you,” you say, using it as a kind of mantra to calm your nerves.

“Love you too.”

You sit in silence for the remainder of the time until your phone goes off and you share a nervous look.

“You check it, I can’t,” you urge him and Harry nods as he grabs the test from the counter while you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for another failure. “What is it?” you ask in panic when you hear nothing from him.

Harry kneels in front of you, placing a hand on your knee as he kisses your forehead.

“Baby, open your eyes?”

“I don’t want to,” you whine. “Just tell me!”

“I think you’ll want to see this,” he chuckles softly and it sends a shiver down your spine. Slowly you open your eyes and meet Harry’s teary gaze as he grins at you wide. Before you could ask anything, he holds up the test and you gasp right away.

Two lines.

There’s no doubt that there are two lines. It’s not even faded, you don’t have to talk yourself into believing that there’s a second one, because it’s obvious.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks as you take the test from him and take a closer look at it. “I’m not just seeing double, right?” you ask laughing through your tears.

“No,” he shakes his head chuckling. “It’s definitely positive.”

“It’s positive,” you repeat, eyes meeting his. “I’m pregnant. Again!”

“Yes, you are!” he laughs before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you tight into his embrace, both of you crying happy tears.

“We’re having another baby,” you whisper in shock as it slowly hits you. Even though you’ve been trying and planning on it, it’s still shocking that now it’s become reality. You’re gonna have another one.

“I told you baby. I told you it’s gonna happen. I knew it,” he mumbles into your hair, kissing you everywhere he can reach as you take deep breaths to stop you from crying.

“And you’re just always right,” you chuckle, cupping his face to pull him into a celebratory kiss.

“Always,” he hums happily against your lips.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #dadrry #dad!harry #the another one universe

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oh-no-a-whovian · 2 years

Text

Two more lonely people Part 5

NSFW 18+

Summary: “should we fight this?” “Si.” “I don’t know if I can” “neither do I”

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal x fem werewolf! reader

Warnings: age gap (Y/N is 24 and Bruno is 50) Hope yall are ready for those lemons. PinV. Wrap it up! Some self-hate. Any others let me know please.

Word count: 5030

Masterlist PT1 Next

You feel refreshed and lively as you wake in the grass near casa Madrigal, not far from Bruno’s tent. You couldn’t exactly have exactly gone home still in wolf form. You couldn’t risk being spotted, not when the gift from casita excuse won’t hold while the others don’t have theirs.

You stretch your arms above your head, arching your back so only your head and butt are touching the ground, moaning in pleasure at the stretch. The early morning birds fly above as you stare at the blue sky as the sun starts to rise. Good thing no one from town has come up to casita for another day of building yet. God knows what they would have said if they caught you napping in the grass, especially if you were still in wolf form.

It felt amazing to run again after two weeks of barely leaving your bed. The feeling of wind in your fur and dirt under your paws again was amazing. And the fact that shifting seemed to fix what was broken is a bonus, you can actually help rebuild now. You had to fight yourself though, when the urge came to just howl into the jungle.

“Not sure lying in the grass is the best idea.” Bruno’s voice rings out, drawing your attention back to the ground, making you sit up to look at him, a big smile on your lips. “Fire ants aren’t pleasant.”

“I got a face full of them a couple years ago, so I’ll have to agree with you.” You laugh, taking his offered hand to stand.

“Oh heh… how’d you manage that?”

“let’s just say running recklessly through a jungle isn’t the smartest thing.” You tell him brushing a few leaves from your hair and skirts.

“are you… feeling better?” he asks, his little chuckle at your words making you smile.

“yeah. It almost feels like nothing was broken in the first place.” You explain. “should have shifted two weeks ago.” You yawn as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

“W-why are you here so early?” he asks, squinting as he realises no one else working yet. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s even awake, most won’t wake for another hour. The only reason you are is because your body had shifted back into human form. Dios you’re glad you keep your clothes unlike in some werewolf stories, otherwise this encounter would have been awkward.

“didn’t leave.” You shrug, wandering off toward the construction, spotting the rat that seems obsessed with you, cleaning itself on some rubble. It’s not the first time you’ve slept under the stars.

“Wait you slept here?”

“couldn’t risk being spotted by anyone in town. They think it’s a part of the gift after all.” You roll your eyes, lifting the rat to put on your shoulder and turning to the man. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t fond of the rat that keeps climbing onto your head. “It was either here, or somewhere among the trees.”

“oh” he replies as he fiddles with his fingers.

You stand together in silence for a moment. Would it be weird if you asked him if wants to get breakfast together? What way would he take it? what way would you mean it?

“I was gonna go and get something for breakfast…” you start “would you… maybe like to join me?”

“Uh mmm. I think it’d be better if I just get started for the day.” He tells you, pointing to the structure with his thumbs as he starts to back away. “Y-you know, there’s still a lot of work to be done and it isn’t going to do itself.” He laughs nervously.

“ok” you try to ignore the disappointment as he rambles on about why he can’t. “Maybe I’ll bring something back.” You nod, your smile disappearing once he turns the corner.

You’re really starting to hate this pull you have toward him, especially when you think he might feel it too just to literally run away.

You breathe out a sigh, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to push away the feeling welling inside. Your mind keeps telling you that you’re being too much. That he doesn’t actually want the attention you’ve been giving. You get it though, you’ve been told many times that you show affection like a dog, jumping on and cuddling your friends like you hadn’t seen them in years. Doll and Isa have been perfectly happy with adopting it, but others have simply told you to calm down.

The rat on your squeaks in your ear, watching you curiously as it sniffs at the air. “Looks like it’s just you and me huh?” you say to the rat as you start your trek home.

~~~~~~

Bruno POV

‘She was just being nice. She was just being nice’ Bruno mutters to himself for the thousandth time as he works on fixing some of the broken pictures, retrieving them from the rubble and making sure they’re preserved until the house is fixed. She was just being nice, but his lonely mind had once again tried to read something into it.

“Tio Bruno.” Mirabel calls out, making him jump. “[Y/N] brought some arepas, made them herself. Said she had something to do though so she asked me to bring you a couple.” He stares at the cloth covered arepas as his niece places them into his hand. “They might be a good as mama’s but don’t tell her I said that.” The girl jokes before wandering off.

She made these? He thought she was just planning to buy some things from the market, but she went home and made them… four little arepas, wrapped in a nice cloth and still warm to the touch.

He hums as he takes a bite of the first. Mirabel was right, even though Julieta’s would normally have come with healing, [Y/N]’s is just as good. She probably learnt how to make them from his sister after all.

As he lifts the second one to eat, he notices a note placed between the middle two and he pauses, glancing around to see if anyone is looking.

‘Sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable in some way, I promise it’s not my intent. I forget not everyone likes so much attention. I can’t really help it, but I’ll try to be a little less. Enjoy the arepas :)’

He feels bad as he reads her words. He didn’t realise how his avoiding would look to her. He’s been in the walls for ten years and he’s been realising slowly that it hasn’t done great things to his social skills. He just wanted to keep a distance so his mind would stop doing what it’s been doing.

She thinks it’s her fault. She thinks that the way she’s been acting around him has made him uncomfortable and he feels like shit for letting her think that. He can’t just tell her that’s not the case though… what would he say? ‘you’re not making me uncomfortable. The truth is that I fucking love your attention far more than I should and every little thing you do sets my body on fire and turns my mind into the sand that used to fill my room. the very thought of you being near me is driving me wild but you’re the best friend of my nieces, so I’m desperately trying not to think about it.’ that doesn’t exactly sound great. And there’s the fact he’s only been out of the walls for two weeks and is already feeling this way. That’s maybe a bit too fast to be developing these thoughts.

He wants to make it up to her, but he’s stuck. If he starts talking to her, acting like he would with anyone else and not running away, he’s sure he’ll be too far gone for her. But he doesn’t want to hurt her by letting her think she’s the problem.

He sighs as he eats the last arepa, tucking the cloth and note into his pocket. He’ll act like himself for her and pretend he doesn’t want her the way he does. He’s doomed.

~~~~

[Y/N]’s POV

“It’s a shame you don’t still have your gift, [Y/N]. The herd is starting to miss you.” Arturo, the farmer you work with the most says as he places another stack of the floor tiles by you.

“Mmmhmmm.” You hum, placing more tiles on the ground in the old pattern, not even looking up at him as he wanders off. You swear it’s the fifth time he’s said it and it’s starting to get on your last nerve. Especially since you still very much have your ‘gift’, and you couldn’t care less about his herd. You were doing what you were told by herding them and you’re glad to have a break.

“he-hey.” You hear to your right where Arturo was standing, glancing up to see Bruno has taken his place. “I was umm told you need more cement for the tiles.” He smiles, lifting the bucket of freshly made liquid cement to show you.

“Oh thanks” you smile gesturing to where he can put it and going back to placing the tiles. When he continues to stand there, shuffling nervously, you look back up at him. His hands are twisting together and he’s staring at the tiles, his mouth open like he wants to say something. “was there something else?”

“um ye- would… do you need any help?” he stutters as he rubs the back of his neck with one hand while gesturing to the tiles with the other.

“I don’t need help…” you start “but! I wouldn’t mind the company.” You smile, stopping him before he tries to race off with a bunch of apologies on his tongue. He smiles as he breathes out a sigh of relief, kneeling beside you and handing you a few of the tiles for you to place.

“thank you… for the arepas. They were really nice.” He says quietly as he starts to place other tiles on the fresh cement, making sure to keep with the pattern.

“I’m glad you liked them” you blush, knowing he read your note that you hid in the middle of them. It was the only thing you could think of doing, since he seemed to want to run away otherwise. You just wanted him to know that you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Even if he doesn’t want what your mind and body have been craving, you’re willing to be a friend. “they’re probably not as good as Julieta’s though.’

“without the expectation of healing, I think they might be better.” He whispers, “though heh might be a good idea not to let mi hermana know.”

“mmm best not” you laugh. “you ever get the urge to do something dumb?” you ask him.

“uh no, no, no… I tend to um avoid doing dumb things on purpose.”

“can’t relate” you giggle. “I keep getting this urge to just place a wrong tile. Like right here I’d place this colour instead of the one it’s supposed to be.” You explain, holding up on of the tiles. “I keep thinking how funny it would be to see how many people would get annoyed at the single out of place tile.” You laugh “but then I’d remember that I would also get annoyed at it”

“and there’s the fact that if the magic returns when casita is finished, it would probably fix it itself.” He huffs in amusement, a gentle smile on his lips.

“yeah, that too” clearly something about your note had calmed something in his mind, as he seems to relax beside you. Though as you look at him, you can still hear his heart race and see tension in the way he’s sitting. “you’re not just… forcing yourself to pretend I don’t make you uncomfortable because of the note, are you? If you are because you felt guilty or something… I’d prefer it if you didn’t. I’m a grown woman, Bruno, I can handle it…” you say quietly, watching his fidgeting hands. You don’t want others to hear.

“I-I’m not” he stutters, and you glance at him like you don’t believe him. “It’s just I’ve only been around people again for two weeks…”

“I get that, but you don’t have to force yourself…”

“I promise, [Y/N], I’m not” he smiles, the way he said your name sending a buzz throughout your body. As you nod, he breathes a sigh of relief and starts telling you about his telenovela ideas. You know it’s to distract from the awkwardness, but you let him do it, smiling and laughing. His eyes light up as you smile and listen to the stories he came up with. He’s amazing. His characters, his ideas, you listen to all of it.

~~~~~~

Bruno’s POV

She’s amazing. He’s been trying so hard to pretend that she’s just a friend, telling himself that it will never go further. But as the week went on, spending hours by her side, laughing with her, trying to be a friend, his heart and body demanded more. He hasn’t tried avoiding her again though, he couldn’t stand to see her sad again.

On Miércoles (Wednesday) she’d made a comment about how she was glad to see more colour in his skin and he melted, eating whatever piece of fruit she’d brought him at the time while he stared at her in awe.

He’d shown her his stories, and watched in nervous dread, scared that she’d laugh at him, but she’d smiled. She read through it all as they sat on the grass during a break, and he couldn’t help but stare. A gentle smile on her lips, a glow in her eyes and the wave of her loose hair in the wind, how could he not take a moment to just admire her?

The thing that has his mind racing though, making him walk along the path toward the river for fresh air, is that there were so many moments that he swore was unmistakeable flirting. He’s sure he just misunderstood, but no matter how many times he replayed each event, there was no other explanation. What else could the things she said and did possibly mean? And if there really is some innocent meaning to them that he’s completely missed then he must be depraved for getting so excited about them that he had to take care of himself just to keep some semblance of sanity.

It way have been a long time ago for him but he’s not a complete idiot when it comes to women… right?

~~~~~~

[Y/N] POV

Running water cools your bare skin, removing all aches from the work you’ve been doing. After the full moon had healed your broken bones fully, you had dived into helping rebuild casita. You helped the artisans, the builders and brick layers, pretty much anyone who’d take you. Though you spent the most time with Bruno, laughing at his little impressions, helping him move his spackle wherever it needed to go. It has been an amazing week.

You couldn’t help yourself as the week went on. He was so sweet, so kind, you just had to gauge his reaction. you’d spent hours a day by his side, how could there be nothing there?

You dive your head under the water, soaking your hair, gasping for breath as you rise back up. This is the best spot in the river, predators seem to just avoid it, the most dangerous thing near you would probably be the capybaras relaxing on the opposite bank, munching on river grass with complete indifference. A snapping sound fills the air making you spin to face the stone covered shore line, your heart racing and your body ready to shift to defend yourself.

“¡Lo siento mucho! No sabía que nadie estaría aquí.” Bruno screeches, covering his eyes and spinning away from you. (I am so sorry! I didn’t know anyone would be here!) you smile and relax at the sight of the man, knowing there’s no danger.

“Está bien… what are you doing by the river?” you ask him, admiring his curly hair at the back of his neck as you gently splash the water.

“I ummm wanted som-somewhere quiet to sit. Still getting used to being around people again, y’know?” He tells you. You can hear the pebbles beneath his feet as he shifts on the spot, and you can see the draped cloth of his ruana shift as you’re sure he’s fidgeting with his hands again.

“Hmmm, well I don’t mind the company, if you don’t…” you tell him, your heart racing. This is the first time you’ve really been alone with him and you’re not even wearing clothes. You’re not sure if you should chase or berate your body for the excitement stirring inside. He didn’t react badly to your flirting but what if he didn’t even realise? You just want to know…

“y-you… you’re not exactly wearing any… anything.” He struggles to say. You can hear his heart racing and his breathing becoming heavier, as he stands there, not leaving.

“I don’t mind that either…” you hum.

“I umm don’t think… I just… I’m not sure…” he stutters, trying to figure out the right words for his thoughts.

‘Fuck it’ you breathe deeply and rise from the river, ignoring any sharp stone as you approach him. He spins to look at you when he hears the sound of shifting stones under your feet, but he looks away again. Locking his eyes down to his left to stop himself from looking at your bare body. You pause before him, your whole body on display, begging for him to want you as much as want him.

“do you feel what I feel?” you whisper, barely able to raise your voice as your chest seems to tighten. “All you have to do is tell me you don’t feel this, and I will fight it. I’ll ignore it, distance myself until this feeling goes away.” You explain, your heart aching at the thought that he will tell you to stop, tell you he doesn’t want you like that. “You just have to tell me to stop.”

You wait for him to say something, anything but he doesn’t, just remains silent as he keeps his eyes locked on the ground. He’s not running away or screaming at you though… surely that means something?

“Bruno?” you ask as you lift his chin, the only thing you know works. Your hand is shaking and your head is tilted when he finally meets your eyes. You would stop if he asked you to but that doesn’t mean it’s not gonna hurt. “please say something…”

“you’re all I can think about.” He finally blurts out, his face turning red, making your heart stutter and a knot of excitement form in your stomach. You were so sure he’d say no, don’t keep trying I don’t want that. You knew that would hurt but you wanted to try.

You can’t help the joy that shows on your face at his words. Without another thought you press your lips to his, cupping his cheeks as you kiss him. He melts into your touch, sighing into your kiss as his eyes fall shut. He feels so warm as your press your body against his, wanting to feel every inch of him. You can feel his hands hovering over your hips, not sure where to place them. It feels like this was always meant to be, your racing heart against his, the soothing sound of the racing river. Has perfection ever felt so sweet?

You lift your left hand up into his hair, tugging at the curly locks, smiling into the kiss as he moans into your mouth. He finally finds the courage to place his hands on your hips, pulling you closer if that’s even possible, gripping your ass to press you flush against himself as his courage grows. You run your tongue along his lips, begging entry as you taste the sweet papaya he’d had earlier.

You can feel another thing growing, firm against your tummy, obvious even with his ruana and pants in the way, lust filling your body making you more wet than the water ever could.

His eyes are hooded and dark when you finally pull away for air, breathing heavily as you press your forehead against his. The wind cools your damp skin, mixing with the warmth of him, sending perfect shivers across your body and you gasp for air.

You wish you could stay in this moment forever. The feeling of his curly hair between your fingers, his breath mixing with yours as he refuses to let you go, your body bare against him. You hope so desperately that it’s not another dream, that the feeling of him pressed against you is one hundred percent real.

“I tried to fight it” you whisper as you slowly drift your right hand down his body, wanting to feel more. “But every time I saw you, I couldn’t stop my body from wanting more. I was so scared you’d hate me if I tried” you admit as you slip your fingers under his ruana and shirt, his warm stomach flexing at the touch of your cool hand.

“I couldn’t ignore it either, no matter how hard I-I tried.” His eyes drift closed as you touch his skin, teasing the edge of his waist band with your thumb, feeling the dip of his hip leading down to what you want.

You lift at his ruana and shirt, asking silent permission to pull them off of him. You can see the warfare behind his eyes as he looks back into yours. the desperation to chase what you now know he’s been craving and every little thing he believes should be stopping him, creating a battlefield in his mind.

“I want you” you breathe, your breasts pressing against his chest, the cloth of his clothes rubbing against your sensitive nibs. His grip on your ass loosens, his hands lifting to finally give you permission. You lift it over his head, throwing it onto the pile of your clothes, safe from the water. When you reach for his belt he stops you, breathing heavily.

“I-I just ne-ed a moment” he explains. You wish you knew what was going through his mind, what little thing is stopping him from claiming you. Stopping him from taking what he needs and letting you take in return. You want him desperately, but you can be patient, so you nod, stepping away from him.

“when you’re ready, come join me.” You tell him, gesturing your head to the river behind you, easing the panic that starting burning in his green eyes at you pulling away.

The water ripples as you step back into it, the river flowing around you to continue its path. You keep your back to him as you make your way into the water, giving him privacy as he fights with himself. Your mind keeps telling you he’s gonna run, grab his clothes and leave you here, deciding he doesn’t want you after all. You think you’d understand if he did run. Perhaps he was just lost in the moment, and he’ll remember that you spend half your time as a six-foot-tall wolf with massive teeth and he’ll run for it. maybe he thought it’s what he wanted but once you tried, he realised that wasn’t the case.

Your mind runs circles until you finally hear the gentle splash of him joining you, relief washing over you. You squeak in surprise as he turns you, his lips crashing into yours as he wraps his right arm around your back, making sure you’re pressed fully to his body, able to feel him completely. His hardened member presses against your hip bone, unable to shift with how close he is holding you. He feels perfect.

He seems surprised at himself when he pulls back to look at you. Though the face he’s making could just mean that you look like a flustered horny mess. Even in the water you feel warm, your face and between your legs feeling like furnaces surrounded by a snow filled landscape.

Your right-hand drifts down his body again, appraising the feeling of his skin against yours as you move to where you want to touch him. He reluctantly lets you separate your bodies as you pause your hand, so close but needing space between you to touch him. He seems frozen in place again, the courage that had pulled you into his arms vanishing as you reach the proof of his attraction.

His breath hitches as your fingers brush against his hard member, his mouth falling open, and his eyes fluttering shut. He’s so warm as you explore his size with the tips of your fingers, the skin soft as velvet even under water. You want to feel every inch of him, get to know everything that drives him wild. Taste him on your tongue and feel him fall apart in every way.

His cock twitches under your ministrations and he moans when you finally wrap your hand around him, moving up and down his length slowly to tease out every noise you can. His head falls onto your shoulder, panting into the curve of your neck as he thrusts into your hand, and you lock your left hand into his curls again. You’re barely doing anything and he’s falling apart before you.

“I need you.” You whisper into his ear and kiss down his neck. He pulls back to meet your eyes, his hands sliding down your body, dipping into each curve until he reaches the back of your thighs. His eyes are wide, betraying a nervousness as his helps lift you for you to wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel how badly he wants you now but he’s not taking charge, just making it easier for you.

The water surrounding you makes you feel light as you lift yourself over him, your eyes locked with his as you line him up with your entrance. His brows are drawn together as he concentrates on the feeling of you lowering onto him, trying not to lose himself too soon in the feeling of you enveloping him. Your slick allowing him easy entry between your folds. No amount of the clear river water would be capable of washing away your lust.

It feels so right as you lower your body, the stretch of him inside setting your body alight, creating a knot in your gut and butterflies in your chest. You moan together as you move, lifting yourself up just to sink back down, his cock filling you to the hilt over and over. So fucking perfect.

You dare not to look away from his beautiful green eyes. You can’t risk breaking whatever enchantment has befallen you as you build upon the extasy on him inside you, his arms around you.

“you feel so good, Bruno” you moan, your mouth falling open and your brows furrowing as you move faster, desperate for more. Wanting to feel only the drag of his cock against your walls and the squeeze of his hands on your thighs as he guides you.

“please, please.” He begs, his voice so quiet as his head falls onto your chest, pressing his lips to your breasts. “[Y/N].” he moans “Te necesito, tanto. tan apretado a mi alrededor. joder. Estoy tan cerca.”

“I’m so close.” Your stomach tightens as you draw closer and closer to release, the band so ready to snap and send ecstasy through your blood. You know it’s a bad idea to allow him to finish inside of you but the idea of him filling you with his seed, painting your walls in warm liquid, nearly sends you over the edge. “do you want me to pull off?” you ask breathlessly, never stopping your pace.

At your words he looks up at you, questioning for a moment, red filling his face when he realises what you’re asking. but His grip grows tighter, his fingers pressing deep into your thighs, bound to leave marks. Your surprise at his decision turns to fiery euphoria and your body launches over the edge, clenching tight around him. You can see the reflection of your glowing eyes in his, the cyan mixing with his green.

“fuck [Y/N].” He curses, his mouth falling open as your pussy squeezes his cock, pulling him over the edge with you. Hot cum spurts from him in ropes and you feel each one coating your walls, somehow keeping the fire alive inside you as you take every last drop.

“that was…” you breathe out after a few moments of being unable to move, your feet meeting the smooth stones at the bottom of the river when he finally lets you go, your hands pressed against his chest and a smile on your lips.

“A mistake” he says, your smile dropping as he looks away from you in shame but not pulling away, keeping his hands on your hips. “I shouldn’t have don-done that. An-any of it, I knew it was wrong.” He mumbles shaking his head, ashamed and disgusted with himself. “I want you so badly. I lost myself in knowing you want me too, but it isn’t right. You’re half my age, I shouldn’t…” He tries to pull away as he spirals into self-hatred.

“No” you growl, pulling him back to you and gripping his jaw to make him look into your glowing eyes, the scruff on his chin stabbing into your fingers. “you will not say things like that. I am a grown woman; I know what I want and that does not make it wrong. And you have a right to want things too. That is not wrong either.” You release your tight grip on his jaw and move your hand around to the back of his neck, pressing his forehead to yours once more. “I want you”

“you’ll regret it” he mumbles, and you swear his eyes are watering.

“never” you smile, kissing him once more.

A/N: looong spicy chapter! Hope you all loved it ;) remember like and reblog to share the love!!!

two more lonely people tags: if your tag failed I’m sorry.

@pink-hufflepuff @kyriekurokami @goblinenby @fraujar @ducks118 @lemonbaby @sylum @life-hater39 @abelbai000 @sarashitposts @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @mother-dragon-and-her-hatchlings @elysiadjarin @multifandombtch @insanitybyanothername @inthewindsomehow @gloryekaterina @anactualvelociraptor @originalsoulcollector @hlxoos @tangerine-kitten @psychomanias @nectamburne @mary-wolf @wo1fwitch @jesuisravenclaw @shaddow-darkcloud @ryou-cosmos @puck-the-puppy @totofranken @butchcupid @mintymonicalei @azeret-mirror @a-gay-cryptid @cl0vr @tigreost @kenzi-woycehoski

#we don’t talk about bruno #bruno madrigal #bruno my beloved #bruno madrigal x reader #isabela madrigal x reader #dolores madrigal x reader #camilo madrigal

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delicrieux · 3 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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zachsreaderinserts · 3 years

Text

sleepy boys inc x gn!teen! reader headcannons

trying something new! i like bbs and all, but i wanted to write for other youtubers! lemme know if yall wanna see more content like this lol.

this takes place in a minecraft au!!! also, mentions of bad parenting/abusive parents

wc: 2,319

okay the sleepy boys

chaos incarnated, all of them. you can’t deny it

so, when tommy invites a friend from a local village, at first, everyone else is skeptical. since when has tommy made a friend who didn’t hate him within 20 minutes from all the screaming and insults he spewed?

unlike his friends, phil is more excited than anything. though he isn’t tommy’s dad, he feels like it sometimes, so he really wants to meet this new person who has caught the youngest’s attention

techno is very much not on board. he has a hard time trusting people at first glance and having been friends with tommy for the longest, he knows that tommy readily jumps the gun and attempts to befriend literally anything just because he can

and wilbur? indifferent for the most part. yes, he feels the need to make sure tommy is protected and cared for, but he also recognizes that this situation is out of his hands. the best he can do is hope that their friend isn’t an absolute asshole

so, it’s saturday. all three men are sitting on the couch in phil’s cottage, talking amongst themselves as they wait for tommy to come back. techno makes a joke about murdering them, which leads to phil scolding him about his violent tendencies

“you haven’t even met them yet, techno, what the fuck.”

wilbur is simply adding fuel to the fire, making little remarks here and there and watching the whole thing escalate to phil lecturing the piglin hybrid.

because of this, not one of them had noticed that tommy returned, with his newest friend. they both stopped at the sight of phil in dad mode, tommy considering just turning around and taking his friend as far away as physically possible

too late, since techno’s sixth sense made him whip around and stare at the newcomer. this made phil stop lecturing and wilbur quit giggling long enough for tommy to introduce his friend

after saying their name, the friend lifted their hand shyly, face burning from slight embarrassment. their other hand was latched onto tommy’s, feeling intimidated.

can you blame them? the fucking blood god looks like they wanna skewer them and cook them over a campfire.

tommy took notice of their shyness and cleared his throat, “we were planning on going to the carnival in their village if you three assholes feel like tagging along.”

like there was any way they were gonna let tommy and his friend go out without chaperones.

tommy turned back to his friend, “give me a second, i’m gonna go grab my sword just in case.” and proceeded to run up the stairs and towards the guest bedroom in phil’s house that he claimed.

the millisecond he was out of earshot, techno grabbed his friend by the front of the shirt.

“what are your intentions with tommy?”

the friend blinked once, twice, then bit back a smile. “you’re asking that as if i’m about to date that motherfucker.”

this time, it was wilbur who bit back a grin of his own. who would’ve expected the originally shy kid to have replied like that????

techno’s brain short circuited and his grip on their shirt loosened slightly. did.... did this kid just brush off his question???

“can you put me down? you’re gonna stretch my shirt.”

techno’s brain blinked back into focus and he gripped the kid’s shirt harder, shoving them against the nearest wall. “i asked a question, kid.”

“you know, tommy told me something like this would happen. i’m glad i came prepared.” and then, tommy’s friend sucked in a deep breath. techno leaned back, expecting the worst...

“MWISTER TECHNWOBWADE, PWEASE PUT MWE DOWN BEFWORE I SCWEAM”

oh god, this was far worse than anything he thought of.

he dropped the teen out of disgust more than anything, reeling backwards. if there was one thing that haunted his dreams, it was uwu-speak.

phil started howling of laughter, clutching his stomach and hunching over. originally he was going to stop techno from threatening a literal child but this outcome was so much better than anything he was anticipating

wilbur was no better, already tearing up from how hard he was snickering. he started choking on his own spit at one point, smacking his arm against the couch.

tommy was so fucking confused when he came back down the stairs, seeing the mayhem that was, for once, not caused by him. he glanced at his friend, who had the world’s biggest shiteating grin.

yeah, they were gonna fit in just fine.

and they did! phil took them under his wing (both physically and metaphorically) and allowed them to come visit his home whenever they wished. and whenever they did, phil was the first to ask how they’ve been and what they were up to

to phil’s surprise, the kid was overall calm in their choice of activities. things like playing soccer or drawing or figuring out how to learn instruments in their free time. it seemed like they were desperate to get their hands on anything and everything just to learn

he found it funny, though, when their chaotic side shone through. they easily were on tommy’s level when they got into that headspace and it was so hilarious to him.

his favorite memory of the kid was when they walked into the house and marched right up to where techno was reading idly in the corner. planting their hands on their hips, they spoke.

“if you were to fuck a clone of yourself, would it be masturbation or would you be considered gay?”

phil, who was washing the dishes six feet away from them, just about crumbled into a ball on the floor from how hard he was laughing and sobbing.

of all questions, that was the one that came out.

but he had no idea that the chaos was a coping mechanism. he just thought they were naturally like that in their free time.

he soon found out the truth when they came home with tommy, who was cursing up a fit, visibly angry. his friend was slumped over, as if trying to hide themselves from the world

when phil asked what had happened, tommy exploded.

“their fucking dad took all their money from their savings! said he needed it more than them and when they asked for it back, he called them a fucking disappointment! that fucking bitch--”

phil can count very few times when he felt true anger and he can confirm that when tommy had told him what had gone down, he saw red.

but he knew better than to outwardly show it. judging by how hunched over and defeated the kid was, what they needed was a stable support system

so he walked over and shut tommy up with a hand on his shoulder, “why don’t we take the rest of the night to build up that game room you wanted in the basement. i’m sure if we knock it out before techno and wil are supposed to be back, we can all play something like monopoly.”

seeing where phil was headed, tommy nodded and brushed away his anger. he knew that what his friend needed was a serious cheering up. tommy ran towards his guest bedroom, claiming that he was going to find his blocks.

phil crouched in front of the teen, tilting their head up to look him in the eyes. “you’re not a disappointment. you’re an amazing person with a chaotic joke machine going 120 kilos over the speed limit in your head and you are talented. your dad doesn’t know shit about what you’re capable of doing.”

oh boy, the kid’s crying. those are tears, full on tears.

that night was one of the best nights of their life, however. they enjoyed the entire three hour long game of monopoly where they watched the light leave everyone’s eyes. it was funny when wilbur lunged across the table when he landed on a railroad, out for phil’s blood.

speaking of wilbur, he enjoyed every minute in the kid’s presence. they often asked creative and random questions and went along with the abstract jokes he made, the two of them laughing heartily the entire time.

when the kid first mentioned wanting to learn how to play the guitar, he practically burst through the wall of the room next door, breathing heavily and exaggeratedly.

“did someone say guitar”

yeah, he’s feral. that’s canon.

they proceeded to spend the entire day in phil’s garden, each of them equipped with a guitar. despite their outwardly smooth brain and stupid demeanor, the teen was a fast learner and could play the most basic chords by the time the sun was setting.

wilbur’s favorite moment was the first night they met, when they went to the carnival. there was the game where you shoot the water and fill up the balloons and the kid was going head to head against techno and tommy.

it was when techno won that the teen turned to techno with murder in their eyes and spoke in a deadpan tone of voice,

“you’re lucky you won this time, you gentrified mayo monkey.”

wilbur’s jaw dropped, as did techno and phil’s. tommy was already in hysterics, smacking his hand against the counter that held the guns.

needless to say, wilbur found his favorite, not-quite sibling in a heartbeat.

techno was the last to come around with the child. can you blame him? every time he tried to threaten them or had beaten them at something, they would respond in a cryptic threat--

“i’m going to pee your pants if you don’t let me win”

or just brushed him off. without a second thought.

“anyways, i was murdering a chicken the other day, and the fucker had the audacity to ribbit at me.”

to say he was confused was an understatement. he was terrified of the fact that a literal child held so much power and disinterest in things like their own life. so for the first few months, he avoided them.

but he had seen past that when it was around midnight on a weekday. tommy was hanging out with tubbo and ranboo in their village miles away from the area. wilbur was out drinking with schlatt, niki, and fundy, and phil was already asleep.

techno wasn’t too far behind, sitting in front of the fireplace and staring out of the window that showed the front yard. it was only then when he saw the flash of a familiar face and looked closer as the teen walked up to the house quietly. their head was down and they carried a small bag with them.

techno opened the front door with a long creak as they reached the porch steps. it was only when they jumped and looked up in surprise that techno had noticed a deep bruise on their left cheek in the moonlight.

despite the fact that he kept away from them, techno was very protective and territorial of tommy, phil, and wilbur. and since they were attached to the teen, he became protective of them as well.

so all the voices in his head went quiet for a second. before exploding into a mixture of screams and threats, all leading back to protecting the child in front of him.

without thinking, he reached forward and cupped their face for a better view of the bruise. at the warm and soft touch, tears slipped down the kid’s cheeks and they sniffed pathetically.

the voices quickly took a 180, all screaming to take care of them. make them feel better. so, techno led the kid inside and let them spend the night in his room, with them falling asleep on the bed and him falling asleep on the rocking chair in his room.

phil did not hesitate to officially declare himself as the teen’s official father, saying that their biological father was a “little bitch”

now somewhat living with the teen, techno found an appreciation for their quieter moments, when they were reading or simply daydreaming. it was cute, in his eyes. but he also grew to enjoy when they were absolutely feral, especially toward tommy.

his favorite moment with them was when they had gifted tommy a music disc for his birthday. it was sweet and sentimental and tommy just about burst into tears when he saw it.

all of the sappiness quickly vanished when tommy put it into a jukebox.

“FUCK THIS PUSSY, BOY, FUCK. FUCK IT RIGHT, BOY--”

tommy had let out the most terrified scream and it practically engrained itself into techno’s brain. it was the first time he ever laughed at something the teen had done and the teen felt proud of themselves.

and finally, tommy. he was already happy to call himself a friend of the teen’s. they were like peas in a pod, working together.

tommy came to them when his insecurity felt heavy and they came to him whenever their dad’s words got to them. they had a nice system of dependency on one another and neither of them would trade it for the world.

tommy’s favorite moment of being friends with them was during their first birthday living in phil’s house. it was a birthday befitting their personality, with brightly color streamers hung and confetti all over the floor. he knew that they enjoyed it severely and once the cake was cut, the kid turned to phil.

“phil, where’s the big tiddy strippers i requested?”

tommy was GONE

he all but choked on his slice of cake and walked away, shaking his head while trying to stifle his giggles. but when he heard phil’s scream of “WHAT”, he just lost it.

all in all, his friend had made a fine part of the sleepy boys. they were a happy face in an otherwise somewhat bleak and dangerous world. and all four men appreciated it.

#sleepy boys x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc #sleepy boys inc #sbi x reader #x reader #reader insert #teen! reader #mcyt x reader #minecraft youtubers #minecraft youtubers x reader #dreamsmp x reader

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kumzume · 3 years

Text

glam ft. todoroki shotō [smhub]

wc. 2.8k :3

warnings. ownership, soft-ish!dom reader, edging, v v lowkey pet play (u call him bunny lol), quiet whiny shoto, begging, miss k*nk (?), slight humiliation k*nk, crying, um

an. SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG HOLY S WORD I HOPE ITS OK I DIDNT GET ANYONE TO BETA IT SO IF THERE ARE ISSUES M SO SORRY LOVE YALL TY FOR WAITING

▼・ᴥ・▼

shoto todoroki was so pretty.

it wasn’t like he wasn’t aware — he’d heard the whispers amongst the girls back at U.A. about how attractive he was. that didn’t keep him from believing those words, his insecurities gripping him so tightly that he was unable to even imagine that anyone found him remotely appealing.

that is, until he met you.

when you first transferred into 3-A, the class was thrown into an uproar. you were beautiful, kind, and funny with a powerful quirk to boot! and yet, you never believed that you were better than anyone else, always treating every single person with respect — even bakugou (shoto couldn’t even pretend to understand how you did it but still, the behavior was so undeniably you).

it was all of your remarkable traits that ended up being shoto’s downfall. he believed you were way out of his league — you deserved someone emotionally available and sweet, things that todoroki felt, no knew, he was not. besides, with every single guy in the nearest vicinity falling for you, he knew he didn’t even have a chance.

so, shoto resigned himself to observe you from afar, watching your interactions with his closest friends and classmates, wishing that he could make you smile as wide as kirishima and deku or laugh as hard as sero and denki.

he knew he didn’t measure up and while he tried to make himself okay with that, he felt jealousy bubbling up beneath his skin when he observed shinsou helping you with your homework or bakugou training with you after school.

of course, he realized he didn’t belong to you or you to him and he had no real reason to be envious of whoever you chose to spend your time with but that didn’t stop him from fucking his hand late at night at the thought of you hovering over him, pressing soft kisses to his mangled scar and calling him beautiful.

shoto came embarrassingly quick with that fantasy, the shame and disappointment overwhelming him to the point where he’d purposefully ignored you for days after.

he could tell you were hurt by his behavior — he wasn’t entirely oblivious — but he knew it was for the best. you deserved so much more than him.

the both of you graduated and moved on to your respective agencies, shoto swiftly making his way up to the number 2 spot while you sat comfortably at number 17. neither of you saw each other very often but when you did, conversation was stilted and a bit awkward due to the intense attraction and inability to act on it on shoto’s part.

shoto was willing to go the rest of his life like this; seeing you briefly in passing, stumbling through a discussion with much difficulty, and then returning to his penthouse to hump his pillow and cry out your name.

it was a pretty good system for the most part. shoto had no worries about ever having to face his feelings for you and was content to live out his days suppressing his inner turmoil just for you.

unfortunately, the universe hates him.

at least that’s what he told himself as he stood in the center of a boardroom next to you, clad in your hero outfits and listening to instructions on an upcoming mission that required you and shoto to work together. alone. for days at a time.

what the fuck.

to be honest, shoto completely tuned out the minute he heard “one bedroom,” his mind racing with all the horribly tempting ways his fantasies could play out.

by the time the meeting was over, he was hard in his pants and entirely distracted as you attempted to make friendly small talk about your mission. shoto sort of felt like he should apologize for being an absolute brick wall, giving you curt one word answers until you decided to leave him alone.

he felt bad but what else could he do when you stood there, wearing your obscene hero costume that revealed way too much of your skin?

well, shoto was being a little dramatic but that’s how he felt! your suit was a play on the playboy bunny costume but instead of being black leather (he thinks he would actually die if you wore leather in front of him), it was a white, lightweight fabric that helped with your quirk.

it was entirely too sexy and reminded him a little too much of one of his secret kinks that he was determined to never let see the light of day.

it was going to be ok! he reasoned. all he had to do was do his job, ignore you like he’s done for the past 3 years and everything would be just fine — right?

wrong. so fucking wrong.

the mission had gone well on all accounts. you both had kicked ass, much to your enjoyment, and were able to go back home a day early!

you were so excited to finally be back in your own bed and away from the weird tension that being around todoroki brought. it wasn’t that you didn’t like him — in fact it was quite the opposite.

you found shoto alluring and gorgeous, his awkward yet endearing mannerisms drawing you further into the mystery that was shoto todoroki. regrettably, it didn’t seem like the man in question was on the same page.

every time you tried to speak with him, he would either stutter and blush or refuse to look you in the eye and give you one-word answers. it was actually ridiculously cute but he would always disappear the first chance he got.

it hurt but you weren’t one to push boundaries where you weren’t wanted.

that’s why that night, instead of going back up to the room to watch tv (uncomfortably, might i add) and knocking yourself out, you decided to go down to the bar and celebrate a job well done.

one of the perks of being a relatively unknown hero was that you could enjoy a night in public without anyone approaching you, a luxury you knew not many top 20 heroes could afford.

with that thought — and the memory of the stifling hotel room awaiting you upstairs — in mind, you made your way to the sparsely populated bar, sitting down and immediately requesting a drink (bourbon, on the rocks).

you scanned the area, counting the number of exits and patrons before your eyes landed on the handsome bartender down at the other end of the counter.

with curly brown hair, bright green eyes and a smile that could kill, there was no way you could lie to yourself and say he was unattractive. even as your mind briefly entertained the notion of taking the brunette out into the alley and fucking him within an inch of his life, your heart just wasn’t in it.

your mind just couldn’t stop drifting to the tall, dual-haired, oh so pretty, man who was (inadvertently) waiting for you upstairs. of course, you weren’t even his to wait for but you didn’t know how to keep from imagining that he was.

a deep sigh escaped your parted lips before you downed the rest of your drink, wincing at the burn it left as it went down your throat. it was getting late and you weren’t planning on spending your night alone with the janitor.

you sent the cute bartender a soft smile while pressing a crisp $20 to the counter. he sent you his own grin back as his eyes trailed down your body clad in your tight hero suit, licking his plump lips in arousal.

you were flattered, truly, but you were a little occupied with getting back to your room, changing into some comfortable pajamas and conking the fuck out.

the trip back up to your room was long and arduous to your sore body, the elevators being out of commission leaving you to take the stairs.

by the time you were at your door, you were so worn out that you were ready to collapse but before you could manage placing your key against the lock, something caught your ear.

“p-please miss,” a breathy moan of your name followed by a wet slapping noise rang out through the door. “i’ll be your perfect bunny, just let m-me cum, please-!!”

holy fuck.

shoto todoroki, the man you’d been crushing on since your years at UA was now touching himself to the thought of you doing god know what to him and he was calling you miss?

you felt heat flood your core, your knees buckling under the heavy weight of your lust. now braced against the door, you leaned your ear against the wood, determined to hear exactly what was getting him off.

more wet noises permeated through the walls — did he just spit in his palm??? — before a long whine left his pretty pink lips.

“m-miss, i belong to you, y-you own me,” he gasped, the creaking of the bed just barely audible beneath his wavering voice.

by now, you knew you’d soaked through the crotch of your hero costume, your clit throbbing painfully beneath the fabric of your panties. you also knew you should turn around, head back to the bar and order another drink, leaving shoto to finish himself off but you couldn’t.

your feet were implanted in place, ear glued against the door as you listened to your partner masturbate to the thought of you owning him.

quietly, you lifted the hand gripping your key to the door, allowing the touchpad to register before slowly pushing the door open.

the sight that greeted you was otherworldly.

the blinds were parted allowing a dreamy haze of moonlight to envelop the room, casting the pale man before you in a somehow whimsical light.

he was stripped down to nothing, lying on his back with a hand wrapped around his gorgeous, swollen cock, furiously stroking himself to completion.

the plump lips that you had spent so much time admiring were parted, allowing whines and whimpers to leave them sporadically as his lithe hips bucked up into his hand.

shoto’s eyes were clenched shut so he was unable to see your dumbfounded, painfully aroused face as you crept into the room, leaning against the wall with your hand pressed to your mouth.

it wasn’t as though you’d never seen a man naked before — you’d had your fair share of men naked in your bed begging for you — but this was something else.

this was shoto — somehow more intimidating than anyone else you’d ever brought to bed and yet you’ve never wanted anyone more.

which is why you were almost surprised at yourself when you opened your mouth and whispered, “stop.”

immediately, shoto’s eyes shot open, wide with fear and apprehension as he lied there frozen, his hand still wrapped tightly around his girth.

the both of you stood there staring at one another, neither of you able to move. you let yourself have this moment to look at him, your eyes tracking all over his muscular form before landing on his length, not missing how it twitched under your gaze.

“i-“ shoto started but he was quickly interrupted by your own voice. “s’this what you do when i’m gone? touch yourself to the thought of me? you’re so dirty bunny.”

it was impossible to hide the low groan that echoed out in the hotel room, shoto’s cheeks burning red in humiliation. a grin crept across your face as you made your way towards him, giggling to yourself at the way he moved up and away from you on the bed.

“now you’re trying to hide, bunny? you weren’t hiding when you were moaning out my name.” your hand slid up his thigh until it was resting on his sharp hipbone, an abrupt gasp leaving his chest.

your hand continued its trajectory, fingers trailing across his tummy before coming to wrap around the base of his cock.

“o-oh fuck, miss—“ a thick drop of precum leaked from his slit and onto your awaiting hand as a low moan departed from the dual-haired boy.

one of his hands shot out to hold yours, drawing your attention to his heterochromatic gaze. shoto’s eyes held so much emotion, small tears already littering his lashline while the moonlight illuminated his crimson scar. he was ethereal.

“pretty,” you hummed, giving him a gentle smile while your hand squeezed his in reassurance. you’d had enough experience to know that that kind of comment was guaranteed to get some kind of vulnerability but what you were not expecting was the expletive shoto muttered before leaning forward to press his lips to yours.

immediately, he was over-enthusiastic, his lips and teeth clashing with yours messily, almost painfully, before you took control of the kiss, slowing shoto down before slipping your tongue inside his mouth.

his quiet groan vibrated into the kiss as you deliberately laid him down, resting his back against the pillows. from there, you had more access to his body, your lips trailing down to his neck while your hand took its place back on his length, lazily pumping him up and down.

“m-miss!” shoto choked, his eyes widening yet again, holding you with his stare. you chose not to respond, instead stroking him quicker while pressing kisses to his shoulder.

“miss,” he tried again, this time more deliberately. “p-please tell me i’m yours...”

with him asking so sweetly, a few tears leaking from his gorgeous eyes at the overwhelming moment, how were you supposed to deny him?

“of course bunny,” you purred, leaning down to peck his nose, sending shivers through his body. “you are mine.”

shoto’s reaction was instantaneous. his eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth dropped open as he felt his pleasure begin to crest, determined to push him over the edge.

you, of course, noticed his body’s response and quickly pulled your hand off of him, painfully ripping his orgasm from his grasp. a disappointed whimper resonated throughout the room as shoto’s eyes found yours, staring at you with such betrayal that you almost found it funny.

“c’mon bunny,” you moved until you were kneeling between his legs, your hands leaving featherlight touches to his inner thighs. “you can hold out for me, right?”

shoto nodded before he could stop himself, desperate for anything you would give him.

besides, it couldn’t be that hard to hold off, right?

...

wrong. so very wrong.

it had only been 30 minutes but it felt like 2 hours since you started playing with him and keeping him from coming.

shoto was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, both hands tangled in his bi-colored locks, eyes squeezed shut with tear tracks now drying on his cheeks and his cock standing fully at attention.

it was purple, throbbing, and covered in precum as you licked a stripe up the side making shoto sob in pleasure.

he had never been harder in his life and he was certain that he would just die if you didn’t let him cum soon.

“p-please, please, miss, please, let me cum,” he babbled, shaking his head mindlessly while bucking his hips up into the warm heat of your mouth.

you chose to ignore his pleas while you moved your mouth over his tip, sucking hard while your hand pumped what wasn’t in your mouth.

“a-ah-!!” shoto shrieked, his back bowing off the bed, his orgasm coming on so hard and so fast that he felt like he was going to explode. “c-can’t hold back m-miss, i can’t, i can’t!”

your hand continued to pick up speed before you pulled your mouth off of him, toying with his tip while leaning up to breathe into his ear.

“cum for me bunny. you’re mine.”

with a cry of your name, shoto came, thick spurts of cum covering his abs, chest and thighs as his body convulsed under the weight of his bliss.

it was the most all encompassing orgasm he’d ever had and you, his former classmate, current partner, and future lover, was beside him through it all, helping him ride it out.

in the back of his mind, shoto knew he should be at least a little worried about how your relationship was going to change after all of this but he couldn’t bring himself to care. you were here and now, bringing him the most pleasure he’d ever undergone with nothing but kind words and a smile, filling his touchstarved heart with heat and, dare he say it, love.

shoto may not have been the funniest or the most open but you chose him, even if it was just for the night. and now that he unlocked how much he loved you, nothing else mattered — just you and him.

as he collapsed back into the sheets, his head just barely registering the cool rag wiping him down, he took pride in how he finally admitted it to himself; shoto loved you and he would be damned if he let anyone else take him away from you.

now, all he had to do was tell you but that was a conversation for another day.

▼・ᴥ・▼

taglist. if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you!!

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