Tumgik
#ill put it in HIS tag but nowhere else
fl3shm4id3n · 5 months
Text
ᵢₜ wₐₛ ₒₙₗy ₐ ₘᵢₙᵤₜₑ
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧.
ꜰɴᴀꜰ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏxʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ꜰᴏxʏ x ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)
Tw: Spoilers? Missing children, child abduction, mentions of death, FNAF stuff, slight mental illness, mentions of getting committed, a bit emotional with an almost good ending?
A/N: I choose Foxy because he is my favorite both in the game and movie. Hope ya'll like this fic.
Masterlist
Tumblr media
You were just gone for a moment, you had to use the bathroom, you thought that he'd be okay with the other kids. When you came out, he was nowhere to be seen. You looked for him everywhere, in the arcade, the ball pit, the bathroom. Then you heard that other kids also went missing. The police got called, you told your mom what happened. You were growing scared and desperate to find your brother. But weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. The police just stopped looking because they didn't find anything. No suspicious activities or of that sort. No one was found and they didn't even find one single body. It was as if they vanished like thin air. But you? You didn't stopped, you didn't plan on stopping until you found what happened to your brother.
Not only that, but your dreams got all sorts of weird. You had always dreamt of the same thing. You were at the Pizzeria, stepping out of the restroom, wearing the same clothes as you did that day, except the place would get darker and more sinister. The people around you have become faceless and the music sounded much more dimer. You'd spot your brother for a moment, then he'd vanish into thin air. Every time that would happen, you'd call out to him. Screaming his name around the pizzeria. You'd also hear a voice, it sounded robotic. It would always spell out something that you couldn't quite catch. But there were some letters that you could make out. 'C...O...M...E... F...I...N...D M...E...'. You were never able to hear it clearly, it sounded like a broken cassette tape. Then you'd wake up. The dream went on for years, you never really dreamt of anything else. If you did, it would always be something that happened in your childhood, evolving your brother. A lot has changed since he turned out missing.
Now it was the early 2000's, you were already an adult. Working a nine to five job at a Target at the mall and living with your mom still. That early morning, you've woken up from that dream. Again, that same dream. You walking out the bathroom, still wearing that outfit you wore that day and the place was full of faceless people and that music. God that music made shivers run down your spine. You did what you'd always do, look for your brother. It always ended with with you entering the main lobby, near the small single stage. And again, that voice. 'C...O...M...E... F...I...N...D M...E...'. You never could make out what he was saying. Then you'd wake up. You didn't understand it. You never understood it. You got ready for work. You put on your red polo shirt with your name tag and your light brown kaki pants. Before you left the room, you looked at a picture sitting in your night stand. It was of you and your brother, on his birthday. You remembered that summer how he had a pirate themed birthday party. He loved pirates. You remember how he would walk around with a black eyepatch and a hook on his right hand. You would even play with him when your mom would be out working late. You always choose to be a mermaid or the villain in his games. You missed those times.
Besides that, you never really planned on going to school for anything. That was the last thing you would be worried about. So you decided to work, maybe save up enough money to maybe hire a private investigator or someone who can help you find something. Now you were at work, doing what you'd normally do. Just helping customers and ringing them out. It was just a regular day. It felt slower than most days. You heard from your coworkers that a security guard got fired, before he punched a guy who he mistook as a kidnapper. If you were in his situation, you'd probably do the same. Now a-days you didn't know who you could trust or you couldn't even look away from a moment because something could happen with a blink of an eye. It was understandable, at least to you.
You've been invited to do things with your coworkers, except you've declined. Always telling them that you were busy or you just didn't feel like going out. It was hard for you to make friends, you had basically isolated yourself from everyone when your brother turned up missing. You never really tried to make friends again. This worried your mom. Since you'd only go to work, go home, eat and sleep. It was a repeated cycle. She had talked to you about going to see a therapist. But you always declined. You didn't want to go and talk to somebody about how after many years you're still on the hunt for your brother. They'll probably medicate you or get you committed into an asylum. You you avoided that topic.
After work, you were back home. In your room, looking through your book. This book had news paper articles, along with police reports, pictures and other things that you've kept for years. This was your kind of evidence that you kept. You'd study these stuff day and night, for the last couple of years. You never gave up. Not only that, but you've tried asking the owner of the place 'William Afton' if you could go into the place to investigate, except the guy never picked up the phone or responded to your letters. You've even tried to get the job as a security guard, but Steve Raglan, who was a career counselor didn't give you the job. He'd always say that. 'It wasn't good for your mental health' or that 'He needs someone who's more calm and collected'. What he probably meant was that he needed someone who wasn't crazy.
You were busy looking at the old, now yellow news paper. Re-reading the article about the missing kids. You've read it many times by now, you might even memorize it. Then you heard someone knock at your door, then they came in. It was your mom. Who had a face of worry. "Y/n? Have you ate anything?" She asked, looking over you saw that she still had her work uniform on, she must have got back. "No, not yet." You responded, then she got closer. Seen what you were reading. She let out a sigh, as if she was exhausted of some kind. "Again? Y/n, we've been over this." She said, then you looked over at her. "I know, but... I just got to find something." You added to her.
She looked at you, seen the dark circles under your eyes. Indicating that you didn't get much sleep. "Baby, it's been years." She said, while looking at you. "You just... have to accept that he isn't coming back." She said sadly, as if she didn't want to say it, but she did. "I know... I just... want to know what happened to him.. or at least who took him.." you added in defense. Your mom then fidgeted with your hair a bit, as if she was fixing it. "So do it, but... you have to stop this obsession. It's not good for you." She said to you. It went silent for a moment, then your mom let out a small sigh. "I'll get dinner started, I'll come to get you in a bit." She said, giving you a small squeeze to your shoulder and she left your room. You sighed, placing your hands on your cheeks and leaned on the desk. Trying to think of what your mom said. Then you looked at picture sitting on the night stand for a moment. After a whole silent minute, you got up from the desk and went into the kitchen where your mom was, to help her with dinner.
Tumblr media
You were at the food court, you had taken your lunch break, now you were heading back. You weren't watching where you were going and you've bumped into somebody. Making them drop a book of theirs. "Shit, I'm sorry." You said, picking up the old looking small book with the title which read 'Dream Theory'. Interesting. "It's alright." He said, then you handed the book to the guy. He was cute. He had messy brown hair and slightly tired eyes. The same description as the security guy who got fired.
"Are you... the guy who got fired from security?" you asked him. He had a look of embarrassment, but he nodded. "Yeah, that's me." He said. It was quiet for a moment, but you spoke again. "What you did was understandable." You said, making him look at you with his eyes slightly wide by your words. "You think so?" He asked. "Yeah, now a-days, you don't even know people's intentions or motives. I would have probably done the same if I were you." You explained. He only nodded at your words, at least someone also thought like him. "Well, I better go, hopefully I'll see you around." You said with a small smile. He nodded and returned the smile. Afterwards, you headed back towards your work place, while he also left to his destination.
You were back home, counting the money you kept in a shoebox underneath your bed. It was enough to fire an investigator, but you knew that you'll need more. This would probably cover the bear bare minimum. It was frustrating. You've spent a whole year saving, yet it didn't feel like it was enough. You knew that you should have got a job sooner, than later. Again, you went through the same old articles and pictures. Trying to find something again. But nothing, it was the same old thing. The same words and the same people in the pictures. Of kids playing around the arcade and one of a person dressed as a yellow bunny. That was odd, you don't remember that bunny at the pizzeria. When was he added? When you looked at the picture of him posing with a girl with blonde hair in pick tails, it felt creepy in a way. Almost unsettling. You didn't really notice this picture or you probably didn't notice it at first.
It was another day, you were in the register, ringing people out. You sighed, in exhaustion. Your feet were hurting and time felt much slower than usual. Another costumer came to the register. You gave them the best smile. "Hello-" you were cut off guard, seen that it was that guy you met the other day. "Oh, it's you. Find everything alright?" You asked him, like you'd normally asked every costumer. You scanned the box of crayons and paper, along with a few things he had in his basket. "Yeah, thanks." He said, while grabbing his wallet. "Found a job yet?" You asked him, out of politeness. "If you haven't, I'm sure you could send in your application." You said. "I actually already did, but thank you for the offer." He responded. You nodded, as you placed the items in a white plastic bag with the red Target logo. "What did you find? If you don't mind me asking." You asked him. "A security guard, at some pizzeria. The pay isn't good, but it's something." He explained.
This caught your curiosity. "Really? What pizzeria?" you asked, putting the packet of bacon in the bag. "It's called, I think. Freddy's Fazbear's Pizza, something like that." He explained. No fucking way. You looked at him wide eyed. "For real?" You asked him, he only nodded. Then he gave you the amount of money that was due. As you handed him his receipt, you hesitated a bit. "When can I see you again?" You asked. "Hm, I don't know, maybe in half an hour while I still have time? Why?" He asked, now curious on why you'd want to see him. "It's cause... I'd like to talk to you about something. It'll be worth your while, I promise." You said, he thought of it for a minute, then he nodded. "Alright, I'll meet you in the food court... When does your shift in end?" he asked. "In about an hour, what's your name by the way?" You asked him. "It's Mike." He told kindly, as you hummed in response. Watching him leave in a bit of a hurry, you went back to work hoping that the time would go by fast.
Tumblr media
After that hour, you were at the food court, waiting for Mike to arrive. He finally did. "Thanks for coming." You said almost shyly. "No problem, but just make it quick. I got to get back home to get ready for my first shift." He explained. You and him sat on a table. "Look, I know you've only known me for a bit. But, please hear me out." You said. Mike nodded, allowing you to processed. "Could you, maybe let me in the pizzeria, while you do your job. I'm just looking for something." You explained to him. He looked at you with a look of confusion. "Don't worry, I'm not going to steal anything, I'm just looking for something." You explained to him. But he wanted to know a bit more. "I don't know. What exactly are you looking for? Treasure of some kind?" He asked. "Well, almost something like that." You told him, but he still not very convinced. You didn't know whether you should tell him the whole story on why you're interested in going into the pizzeria. You just skipped the subject.
"Not only that, but I'll pay you for your troubles. I just want to go in and look, then I'm out." You added, as soon as you said 'paid' he looked at you with more reason. "How much?" he asked. "Two-hundred dollars per night. It'll just be this week and no more." You told him, seen the look of shock in his face. He thought for a minute. Then he nodded his head. "Alright deal, but, you have to pay first. I don't want to get scammed or anything." He said, then you grabbed your wallet and handed him two fifty dollar bills. He took the money and looked at it, in almost as if he'd never seen that amount in while. "That's all I have for now, but I'll give you the rest afterwards." You explained to him. Mike nodded, he seemed as if he was convinced. "Alright, it's a deal then." He said. After that was settled. "Before I go, here's my house number. Call me if anything." You explained to him, writing your house number on a piece of paper and gave it to him. You normally wouldn't give your number to anyone, but you knew that you'd be seen him for the next couple days.
Tumblr media
Back home, you told your mom that you'd be going out at night for the whole week. For some kind of night shift and you'd be back at 6:00 am. You left home and headed to the pizzeria. It was 11:55 pm. You were sitting in your car, waiting for Mike to arrive. A few minutes passed and he had arrived at 12:00 am. On time. He told you to just be smooth and not make it seem as if you were here. He sounded as if he really needed this job. You nodded understandingly and went to search.
Like before, you searched everywhere that you could. Except you got to look more. In the kitchen, boiler room and in the back. But nothing. Despite not finding anything, you'll be back tomorrow night. When you got back to the main lobby, you heard strange movements coming from the single stage. It had dark purple curtains like the main one. You got a bit close, trying to listen and see closely on what was making the inside of the stage move. You reached out and tried to pull the curtains, until you heard the Mike called out to you. "Hey, it's 6:00, we gotta go." He said, you nodded at him, you looked back at the stage. Before you headed out. "Here's the rest." You told him, giving him the other two fifty bucks. He took them. "Thanks." He said, putting the money in his pocket. "No, thank you for letting me do this. I know it's risky." You said with a small smile. "It's nothing really, I just... really need the money and the pay here is not so great. From what I was told." He explained. You nodded. "I understand." You responded to him. "Well, I'll see you later tonight?" you asked him. "Yeah. See ya." He responded with a small awkward smile, then headed to his car. You did the same.
Tumblr media
You went home, slept for a few hours. You had that dream once again. But, there was a slight change. When you got to the small single stage, the voice sounded much different than before. 'Y...O...U... F...O...U...N..D... M... E...' You could slightly make out the letters, but the words completely. Then you woke up again. Like always. You got ready and went to work and after work you went home, then you left to the pizzeria at the same time as you did before. Mike arrived, you paid him the while two hundred dollars and you got to doing what you were doing. You searched in the same places, but this time you looked more in the main lobby. It felt as if you were getting closer to finding something, and that something was in the main lobby. You looked under the tables, bathrooms and even in the trashcans, but nothing. But it still felt close. Looking over at the single stage, you noticed that the curtains were open. You walked over to it, and saw that it was empty. Dammit, you thought something would be in there, before you could leaned close to look inside. You heard a loud thud in the office.
Quickly you ran towards the office. "Mike?" You called out to him, seen that he was on the floor groaning in pain. Bleeding from his arm. You went over and helped him up from the floor. "You good? What happened?" you asked him, setting him back on the chair. "I think so, dunno how that happened." He said, referring to the wound on his arm. It looked nasty. You looked around the office, trying to find a first aid kit. When you found it, you helped him patch up his wound. "What did you do?" You asked him, as you tightened the bandages on his arm. "I have no idea, I just dreamed of this kid, with a pirate hook. I chased after him, then he slashed me." He said, this caught your attention. 'Boy with a pirate hook.' That must have been a sign somehow.
When you got back home, your mom was getting ready to leave. You talked for a bit before she left. When she did, you went to catch some sleep before work. You went back to that same dream, back at the pizzeria, except you were in the last place where it ended. At the single stage, it was open. But it was empty. You got close, leaning in to look inside, but it was dark. All most like a bottomless pit. You stoke your hand in to see if you might find something, inside but you felt something grabbing your hand in the process. You heard the voice again. 'Y...O...U... F...O...U...N..D... M... E...'. Then the house phone rang. Making you wake up with a loud gasp, a bit frightened. Groaning that you've been woken up. You got up and walked towards the living room. You picked up the phone and answered.
"Hello?" you asked through the phone. "Y/n? Hey it Mike, sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing, but. Did you break into the pizzeria earlier this morning?" He asked, sounding worried in a way. "No? I was home the whole time. Why what happened?" You asked him. "Apparently someone or a group of people broke in. I just wanted to conform something." He explained. "That was it, sorry for interrupting." He apologized. "It's alright, I get it. I'll see you later tonight." You said, then you hung up. Who the hell would break into the pizzeria? That was a bit suspicious. You looked at the time and saw that it was close to being time to go to work. You sighed, walking back to your room to get ready.
Tumblr media
Later that night, you were back at the pizzeria, waiting for Michael. He arrived, once he parked and stepped out of the car, then he went to the passenger door and opened it. A little girl stepped out with a small back pack. They both approached you. "Sorry, I couldn't get a hold of the babysitter and I just couldn't leave her alone." He explained to you. "Are you Mike's girlfriend?" she asked. Making you giggle and her brother's face turned a slight red. "Nah, just a friend." You replied to her. "Hm, I didn't think he'd have any." She said, making you laugh and Michael's face becoming redder. After you had a small introduction, you went in.
The place was trashed and a mess. While Mike went to put Abby to sleep, you decided to get some cleaning supplies to help clean the mess. You went to the janitor's closet to find some things, you spotted how on the door there was a dark liquid that had been splattered on there. Weird, it looked almost similar to blood, it was probably an old stain of some sort. You got brooms, dustpans, a bucket, mop and cleaning products. Then headed back to the main lobby. When Michael arrived, you and him got to cleaning. You both swept, mopped and you stocked up the chair and tables. Afterward, he went back to the office while you went on your search. Trying to find any kind of new clues maybe, but nothing. Some 'evidence' must have been cleaned up. You headed back to the office and saw that Mike was asleep and Abby had woken up. "Can you take me to the bathroom please?" She asked. You looked over at her sleeping brother and back at her. "Yeah, lets go." You said, taking her hand and leading her to the restroom.
You were waiting outside of the restroom, waiting for her to finish so that she could go back to her brother. The door opened and she walked out. "Done." She said with a small smile. Then a small noise was heard in the stage. You and Abby looked over for a minute. "Stay behind me." You said, then you slowly walked towards the lobby, with Abby behind you. You saw how the stage slightly shook, you kept the younger kid behind you, grabbing a broom. To defend yourself. Then the curtains of both the stages opened, revealing the animatronics. Of a bunny, bear, and a chick. They were all in good condition, with a bit of dirt and dust on them. The single stage had a fox, a bright red one that was more tattered than the rest, also with some dust.
They all moved their heads, towards your direction. Then they began to walk towards you both. You don't remember them doing that. You held the broom tightly, and kept Abby behind you. Except she peaked and looked towards the animatronics. "Those are my friends." She said, removing herself from behind you and going up to the four animals. "Abby wait." You said, getting closer to them. She seemed as if she knew them. Did she? You kept your broom in hand, watching as Abby interacted with them as if she's known them all her life. You felt something touch your shoulder, looking over, you saw the red fox. He was moving his ears and hook for a hand excitedly. Instead of feeling scared, you felt some kind of attraction? "It's okay, he just wants to hug you." Abby said to you, now the animatronics were looking at you. "He does?" you asked her, she then nodded.
Turning to face the fox, that was twice your size. You set the broom aside, then you extended your arms and moved closer to him. He did the same. You wrapped your arms around the cold fur like robotic body. His arms were around your smaller body. It felt a bit odd, but the more you hugged him, it felt comforting. You felt his hook for a hand giving you small pats, as a way to ease you. This felt nice, then you pulled away from him. Looking at him in his single eye. He moved his jaw excitedly, as well as his ears. It was cute in way. You gave him a small smile. Out of nowhere Abby began to laugh, you looked over and saw how the others were tickling her. She just laughed, which lead to some playful screaming and her telling them to stop. It was all fun and games, until you heard Mike run in to see what was happening.
As soon as he got there, he assumed Abby and you were in some kind of danger, he then grabbed a chair and held it up, as Freddy approached him. About to fight him. "It's okay Freddy, he's my brother Mike." Abby said towards Freddy, who had seemed to have calmed down. Allowing him to let Mike pass. "Mike, this is Bonnie, Foxy and Chica. Everyone, this is Mike." Abby introduced everyone to on another. "This is... is a joke right?" He asked, looking confused at you. "I thought I was tripping, but no." You responded to him. "It's okay Mike, they just want to play." Abby told Mike, then Chica turned to her and gave her a wink, making her smile.
"Alright, it's time to go, come on." He encouraged Abby. "Hold on." She responded to him, then she grabbed her little notepad and a red marker from her pocket. She drew something real quick and tore it off the notepad. Bonnie held out his hand, letting Abby put the picture on his palm. He then showed the picture to Foxy who looked very interested in the heart drawn on the paper. "I had a lot of fun." Abby told them, she then walked towards Mike. But stopped and gave Freddy a nice hug. Freddy returned the hug back. You looked at Foxy, who was waving his ears and jaw rapidly again. Also waving his hook around as if he was waving at you. "I'll see you around?" you asked him, he nodded his head. Then you walked out of the place with Mike and Abby.
"That was something." Mike said, watching Abby get in his car. "Yeah, it was." You responded, looking back inside, seen that Foxy was near the door. You guessed to make sure that you would all leave. You turned back to Mike who was closing and locking the gate. "So, find something?" He asked again. "Not yet, but I'm much closer than before." You explained to him. After he finished locking up the door. "I better get going. I got work in a few hours." You told him. "Alright, I'll probably stop by." He teased, making smile. "Alright, don't be a stranger." You told him, then you looked at Abby. "Goodbye Abby." You said kindly to her and she gave you smile, then you headed to your car, turned on the engine to get home. Back home, your mom wasn't there. You assumed she went to work early. You took off your shoes and just jumped on the couch, getting comfortable. Taking yet another nap before work. Hopefully afterwards you could get some better sleep. You fell asleep shortly afterwards.
You back at the pizzeria, except wasn't almost scary looking and dark like before. It seemed more friendly and nice to be in. You were standing outside the bathroom, the same clothes as before. Looking around, you saw someone in front of the single stage, they were small, like a child. You got closer to see who it was. Your eyes widen when you saw the back of that person's back of his head. They slowly turned around. You saw that it was your brother, he looks just like how he did when he went missing. He had on his orange shirt with blue jeans, shoes and his pirate hook that he had made.
"You found me." He said, you felt your eyes watering. It's been so long since you've seen your brother. You almost forgot how he looked like. You said his name in a whisper, then you went over, getting on your knees and pulling him into a hug. "Oh...I'm so sorry, I was only gone for a minute. I knew I should have been more watchful of you." You said, as you cried more, hugging your brother. "It's okay. You found me" He responded to you, all you could do was hug him and cry. As much as you wanted to continue to hug and be with him, you couldn't. This was only a dream. You pulled away, and looked at him in the eyes. "Please... I have to know... who took you?" You asked him, hoping that he'd give you answer or a clue. He didn't say anything. "Please tell me, who took you from me and mom?" You asked him again, but again. Nothing. Before you could ask him again. You woke up.
Tumblr media
ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ
727 notes · View notes
saetoru · 2 years
Note
omg bc you asked for loid thirsts the other day i binged the series (i’ve been meaning to for months now, that just kicked my ass into gear lmao)
but loid feels like the kinda person who’s so used to taking care of everybody else that the moment somebody starts taking care of him he just ~melts~ 😮‍💨 give him a handjob or blowjob, and don’t ask for anything in return, just doin’ it ‘cause ya genuinely love him and want him to relax? mans is getting a ring not even a day later
#𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎�� — 𝐋𝐎𝐈𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐑.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
tags: nsfw, gn! reader, hand jobs
notes: sobs i am so mentally ill over him THANK YOU FOR SPARING SOME THOUGHTS
Tumblr media
loid can’t remember the last time he’s had time to just sit. nothing to do, nowhere to be, and no one to find. but he’s here right now, slumped across the couch, you seated on his lap, and he thinks maybe he should find more time for this—because this, you, this is a real shame to miss out on.
it’s almost muscle memory for him. it’s almost instinctive to reach for your waistband and sink his fingers past your folds—but then you shove his hand away. he furrows his brows, wants to say something, and he even opens his mouth to voice his thoughts, but then you palm him through his pants, and all that manages to escape his mouth is a choked groan.
“just relax,” you murmur, pressing a small kiss to his cheek, and he breathes heavier as your hands travel past his waistband to wrap around his stiff length, exposing it to the cool air as he hisses. “you just sit there and look pretty,” you hum.
he almost blushes—though you notice that the tips of his ears are just the slightest bit pink.
“what about you—”
“some other time,” you cut him off, “jus’ wanna take care of you.”
he frowns. loid forger doesn’t get looked after, it’s just not something that happens. ever. he’s used to being the one that does the looking after, the one that makes sure everyone’s okay before himself—and it’s meant to stay that way. but his cock is pulsing in your hand, hot and heavy and aching to cum, and he almost contemplates if he should really be putting up a fight.
it’s second nature to protest though. “but i always—”
“c’mon,” you groan, “just let me.” and you’re pouting.
you’re pouting like the prospect of him not relaxing, of him not melting under your touch as you care for him is making you upset. it’s foreign being handled so gently, like he’s fragile and dainty and vulnerable (which he’s not—ever), but he’ll admit it’s not exactly awful.
he must look a little skeptical still because suddenly, without warning, your thumb smears the pre cum leaking from his slit around his tip before gently stroking him a few times. his eyes flutter shut, and a low, quiet groan falls from his lips.
“see? it’s not so bad relaxing, huh?” you whisper against the shell of his ear, still dragging your palm up and down his hardened length, squeezing slightly at the tip each time. “you get to feel good. isn’t that nice? just let me help you relax.”
“fuck,” he grunts, and his hips do a little twitch that has him thrusting into your fist just a little, chasing the friction before he can stop himself. he wonders if it could be that bad to just listen to you this once. “okay,” he mumbles, eyes squeezing shut, “yeah, okay,” he finally caves.
you murmur a happy little “yay,” and he’s less than willing to admit he almost imagines you with a wedding band around your finger. he quickly tries to fight the scene in his head of your ring adorned hand wrapping around his cock before he cums too fast.
but then you squeeze around him a little tighter, your free hand moving to cup his balls and making his head fall back against the couch, and he’s not sure if he can hold himself out for too long in the first place. he moans, eyes squeezing shut as his lips tug between his lips, and your thumb glides through his slit. for the first time, he seems to be caught off guard—if the slight hitch in his throat is of any indication.
“i love you,” you say gently, littering soft kisses along his jaw, hand still gliding up and down his cock. “always taking care of me—you deserve the same too, yeah?”
everything feels hot, your skin on his and your breath fanning against his ear as you praise him. he feels pleasure burn through his nerves, chest heaving up and down as he approaches his orgasm slowly. loid can’t help but let out a soft gasp when you increase your pace, louder groans spilling from his lips—and his lips are pretty, so you lean in and press a soft peck to them, once, twice, then a third time before he desperately kisses you back.
it’s a messy kiss, a light clash of teeth and labored breaths as he pants against your mouth, letting out sweet little moans that you drink in as his fucks into your fist. he’s flushed, skin a dust of blush over his face and peeking through what little you can see of his chest from his shirt. his cock twitches in your hand, tip swollen and red, leaking pre cum and glistening in your hand as you stroke him.
“fuck, like that. feels so good,” he rasps, “g-gonna…gonna cum.”
“c’mon, baby,” you encourage, “just let go.”
a few more strokes of your hand as the other lightly fondles with his balls, and you feel him twitch in your hold once more. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say the noise he makes is a strangled whine as he spills into your hand, his own hands gripping your hips tightly for stability as he bucks up desperately into your fist and rides out his high. he groans your name lowly, voice cracking in the middle before finding your lips again as thick ropes of cum paint your hand white.
“god, fuck,” he pants against your mouth, and with a few more spurts of cum, he finishes, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he pants, trying to catch his breath. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”
“just wanna show you i love you,” you huff, face softening as he slowly wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you a little closer. “you should let me take care of you more often.”
his heart does a little jump, and something unfamiliar bubbles up in him as loid takes in your words. and he’s not entirely sure what to say, so for now, he settles for sighing with content into your skin as your clean hand threads through his sweaty locks gently.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
guys he’s so hot i’m gonna throw up
4K notes · View notes
fatuismooches · 2 months
Note
greetings!!! this is the first time i've ever shared my idea to anyone, kind of worry but guess that i have to share it with you because your writings are so good and i love how you execute scenarios and ideas (literally awake all night scrolling through your brainrot 😭😭😭😭)
let me tell you that fragile!reader and dottore is what keeps me awake at night i love them so much, i literally read everything in the tags, the fluff and angst is SOO GOOD NGL.
so, angst/ no comfort (because i love tormenting myself (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆), fragile!reader and terminal lucidity - somebody suddenly became lively and conscious before their deaths. i see that you have written about fragile!reader whose memories are slowly deteriorating or slowly losing their eyesight. imagine one day, everything just come back...normal, the sudden recollection of memories, vision returned miraculously, no pain, no suffering, as if they were back to the days at Akademiya. they became gleeful, happy, full of live, no longer the gloomy, sick-ridden individual.
Dottore, of course, was surprised at this phenomenal, run more tests and check-ups just to be sure that we are actually healthy because there is no way we actually turn healthy after being sick in centuries. the segments however, especially Zandy, didn't think much about the whole ordeal. you are fine!! you can finally walking and running freely without being on life-support. your turn in health manage to turned them into a bunch of joyful, blue-haired maniacs with giddy, happy smiles on their lips.
we are fine for a few weeks, which also make Dottore himself believe that maybe, maybe his efforts have paid off, maybe our health have been stable, and maybe from now on, he could spend the rest of eternity with his beloved.
then we die (this is so mean i'm so sorry 😭😭😭😭😭). how they perish is completely up you but i'd preferably that they die in their sleep, a peaceful death. Dottore and the segments are... well, shocked is an understatement, their whole world have...gone, they'd question themself: how can this happen? you were fine in the past few weeks? In which Dottore blame himself the most, he shouldn't have believed that we were fine, he should have run more test, he should have been more cautious about the whole situation but now he completely felt... helpless, for the first time in millions of years. the only person who went thick and thin, the person that can tolerate him in the Akademiya days and the person that he can tolerate now have passed away.
(the ending is kind if short because idk what else to say since my vocabulary and grammar is rather limited. i hope this would be sufficient 😭😭😭😭😭 also looking forward on how you react to this. for now i'll just cry myself to sleep with this scenario while waiting for your work ❤️🥰)
- 🪷
It would come out of nowhere, no one expected it, no one believed it in the beginning. After all, over four hundred years of debilitating illness makes it hard for anyone to believe something good finally happened. But it does, when you first wake up you can feel that something is different - you definitely do some test runs in your room, picking up objects that were once too heavy for you, simple actions that no longer left you tired, no more aches or pains, it was marvelous. So obviously with your newfound energy, you sprint out to find anyone, hell even a random agent would do, because you're finally free. (You can already hear the voices of the segments - no running in the lab because of the very obvious dangers.)
Naturally, Dottore is very skeptical of this, yes, he does not trust how his heart beats at the sight of your glowing self putting on a little performance for him to show how healthy you are now, he can't bring himself to. He's witnessed how low you could become from the worst stages of your sickness, so although he's more than happy to see you well, the possibility of you falling back into such a state is very high. However he cannot find anything, and you don't show any visible signs either. Even so, he still watches you very closely. It's a feeling that always nags, one that may always nag him perhaps, the thought of you becoming worse. But he's not going to damper your mood with his thoughts, you should enjoy this.
Dottore and the segments would still scold you for your recklessness but realize that you are no longer sick and frail and they no longer have to fuss over your health. It's a very strange sensation that's hard to break out of since they've been doing it for so long. But it's good! You're happy! You're strong! You're the [Name] that was buried away, come to rise to the surface once more. Let's just say Zandy very much enjoys the piggyback rides. The checkups still persist as a general measure, but they always go smoothly. It seems there's nothing to worry about.
You would want to assume your role of his assistant once again right away - it's something you've been longing for, to be able to be useful to your lover just like how you once were. To live those days of banter and sharing fascinating knowledge and listening to each other's ideas once more. And so you do, Dottore's more than happy to let you, oh how he's missed you by his side so often. He's excited, he's ready to put the past four hundred years behind and move on, his mind already racing with the countless possibilities that have opened up now. Unfortunately, they don't come to fruition.
Perhaps you felt something wasn't right but it was already far too late - on the day of your death you acted like everything was normal, carrying out your new duties, but also with a lot of added affection, visiting each segment and Dottore and kissing them with all your love. They don't think much of it, you're usually affectionate like that. If only they knew that would be the last time they were embraced by you. Little Zandy too - it would be the last time you ever hugged him and listened to you read him a story. He'd be absolutely inconsolable after your death.
With you gone, the spark in his life would be gone. It would be the same routine of his duties and experiments and research, with nothing to ease his tension. Sure, he no longer has to spend lots of time finding a cure or producing medicine, but this wasn't the way he wanted it to happen. It's the same as when you were sleeping, except this time he no longer has the anticipation of you eventually waking up. Or does he?
Resurrection is a forbidden art, but he is Il Dottore, the one who has no problem sinking his hands into what should not be done, and he is Zandik, the one who loves you. If this world wants you gone so badly, then so be it. He will simply reach for your hand and pull you back to him every time, because even if it is lifeless, he will make sure it's warm once again.
59 notes · View notes
alexa-fika · 1 month
Text
Chilly Prisioner ( Kuzan x Hellhound!Reader)
A/N Here we are with another dark ish one, and first one with out freeze lord, I already have a part two maybeee a part three? I just have to exit them, depending on how you guys like it ill speed those up.
Part 2
This is a testrun on a hybrid oc with reader? ‘Reader’ is replaced with Dokusha here wich stands for Reader in japanese, let me know your thoughts on it afterwards, just trying new things and maybe finding a balance for including both Oc and reader without leaning too far in either direction but I also don’t want to like you know try that and fail at appealing to both so let me know, though that begs the question what should I advertise it at, eg, Kuzan x reader or Kuzan x oc?
Dividers by @/saradika
Tumblr media
They roll their eyes, watching as Kuzan enters the Ship’s dungeon, approaching the cell where they were held and dropping himself to the ground in a lazy manner
“What do you want? I told that captain of yours already I have no intention of helping you and your rag-tag group of idiots
“Ara, Ara, are all hellhounds this uptight? I don't care about that. I'm not here to talk business; I'm just here cause I have nothing else to do right now. I just wanna chill and chat a bit."
They scoff
“You can’t stay silent forever. Besides, isn’t talking to me better than just sitting in a dark dungeon and doing nothing?”
They look away from him, ignoring him entirely
“Fine, if you wanna sulk, I’ll just sit here and relax.
“I’ve got nowhere to go, nothing to do. So I don’t mind just sitting here for as long as I need to. I can just wait for you to get bored of your grudge and start talking to me like a normal person.” they glance at Dokusha for a while
“Hellhounds are supposed to be resistant to fire, right?”
They glance at them for a second at his words but look away quickly, returning to ignoring him, hoping he will eventually give up
“Wonder how you would fare with the cold?” he stated
They wince as the room’s temperature quickly drops as ice begins covering the cell
“Hm, pretty sensitive, it seems,” he mumbled.
He then stood up and got up close to the cell bars.”
“You know, I’m kinda wondering what are you so sour about?”
They glare up at him, trying to keep their flaming ears and tail out of the ice
“You kidnapped me, your Captain demanded me use my abilities for your benefit, and when I refused, with much reason, you threw me in a cell and drugged me so I can’t use them at all, and now you're trying to freeze me to force me to talk to you because you ‘are bored,’ so you tell me Kuzan.”
“Hm, you’re quite feisty, aren’t you.”It was mean what you did, trying to set the entire ship on fire; I had to take some measures to keep you in check. Besides, you have a pretty dangerous power; it should be evident that we can’t just let you out to roam freely.” he stated, glancing at the shivering hellhound
“You know, I’m not going to let you go. Even if I have to freeze you entirely, so you can either start talking right now, and I’ll lower my guard a bit. Or you can continue to sulk, and I’ll just freeze this cell completely. Your choice, really.”
They start inching backward as the ice begins approaching them, chills running down their skin
His eyes narrow as he watches them inching backward.
“The cold getting to you?”
Another gust of cold air surrounds them as the frost grows closer, almost touching their skin.
“You know I can easily unfreeze people, but I wonder if that's the case here; seeing how you’re trying so hard to protect those flames of yours, im guessing it’s game over for you if I put your fire out, so I would reconsider your choice and soon”
They growl, making their flames bigger, attempting to ward off the ice, a panicked look growing on their face as the flame flickered until only small flames remained
“The drugs I gave you are pretty potent; I would like to see you maintain those flames.”
His hands spread, and the air got colder, the frost growing faster now.
“So… are you ready to talk now?”
“Don’t you have anything you should be doing?”
“Nah, I told you, I have nothing to do now. So I’m just chilling here.”
His tone is laid back as if nothing is a problem
“Besides, the way I see it, I’m doing a nice thing and keeping you company. I’ve been told I’m quite the interesting and charming person.”
They groan as the ice reaches them, slowly freezing their feet and making its way up
He watches the frosts slowly creep up their body.
“Hm, it seems you’re not going to cooperate. Too bad.”
His hand gestures towards them, and another burst of frost shoots toward them, making the ice crawl up to their ankles and up their legs.
“All im asking is for you to talk to me and answer some questions.”
They shake their head, a cloud escaping them each time they took a breath as the temperature continues dropping; unable to move their legs, they hug their tail tighter, trying to protect the blue flame on it’s tip
“You know when I said I was going to freeze you entirely. I wasn’t kidding. I can do that and more.
I’m sure those flames must mean a lot to you, right? What would happen if, say, I were to extinguish them?”
Kuzan pauses, and the ice stops crawling up further.
“So, Would you like to talk now?”
Tumblr media
I lowkey feel like idk, like Dokusha’s personality is not consistent? Or maybe it’s Kuzan’s personality that dosent quite fit and jumps all around the place, thoughts?
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
26 notes · View notes
aromanticannibal · 5 months
Text
Basil is very mentally ill (SPOILERS)
I just came to this realization in the tags of another post but how deeply fucked up mentally must little twelve year old Basil must have been for his first idea to cover up Mari's death to be a suicide.
Mari has a knee injury that stops her from playing softball - so it must be a pretty bad knee injury. And you know what knee injuries do to you? They make you fucking fall. What are the odds of Mari accidentally falling off the stairs and dying from it after tripping because of her injury (and she was probably tired because of her training for the recital on top of that)? Pretty high me thinks. Even without the knee injury, these are some tall stairs man. Maybe I'm just clumsy but I know I'd fall from that.
So what happened is that Basil saw his best friend made his sister fall from the stairs and she died from it. And his first thought was to... Stage it as a suicide. And not any type of suicide, stage it as Mari having hanged herself. @a-rock-nothing-else in who's tags I screamed already pointed out that it's really weird for a twelve year old boy at a time where Internet isn't that easily accessible to know how to tie a noose.
So. Basil is undeniably fucked in the head from a stupidly young age, which makes sense given his parents are canonically "too busy" to take care of him, and he lives with his grandma + he seemingly didn't have any friends before Aubrey befriended him. So the child is probably somewhat depressed in the first place, and may have been suicidal in the past, explaining his knowledge of how to tie a noose (this is from @/a-rock-nothing-else's post).
But on top of that, even when he's seemingly really happy with his friends, his immediate reaction to Mari dying isn't to either freeze up like Sunny or call for help, it's to frame the "murder" and even then, to frame it as a fucked up suicide that's probably hard to put in place (need to know how to make a noose, need to bring the dead weight of a 16 years old girl down the stairs and then up a rope, all that alone because Sunny isn't responsive) instead of a simple "She fell down the stairs!". Even giving most of the truth would probably have been simpler ("Sunny and Mari were arguing and Mari was tired and tripped and fell down the stairs!").
I have a theory/headcanon : Basil probably was traumatized by something in the past (his parents' absence, his lack of friends or potential bullying, even just his depression) and got the good ol' "You're so mature for your age!" symptom. In this state of mind, he felt he had to help Sunny, because Sunny is helpless and doesn't know what to do, and he's his best friend, so Basil has to do something. He's the only one who can do something. (He doesn't think of calling for help.) Then, his first thought is to stage a suicide, perhaps because he's seeing things through his own eyes too much : when you're suicidal, you might view committing suicide as an escape from everything (good) and think that the people around you will forget everything about it in a few days, maybe (very good). Basil doesn't think in terms of "this is going to break everyone's hearts and might traumatize many of my friends" first because when you're twelve you don't think like that, and second because he's seeing himself in Mari supposed suicide.
Of course, he realizes after how terrible of an idea this is, but well. He can't do anything now, and he knows he did something wrong.
I suppose after all this, when the adrenaline went back down, he realizes that Mari didn't kill herself or die out of nowhere, someone pushed her. And when you're a kid you probably struggle to see shades of grey a bit, so he can't possibly believe his best friend is the one who pushed Mari down the stairs and killed her, no - it was something behind him.
Anyway. I'm not blaming Basil for anything, just trying to understand why his brain works so fucking weird and projecting a bit. I also might have missed some canon points but heh. These are just random thoughts, this is the reason why I labeled this as a theory/headcanon.
21 notes · View notes
Text
In The Moonlight
Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Summary: You went into a monster hunt totally blind just because you wanted to help out a couple of friends... and Steve blames himself for scaring the shit out of you.
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings/Tags: language, use of (y/n), season 2 Steve, ptsd things, crying, fear, hurt/comfort cuz I'm mentally ill... and I think that's all?
A/N: Wowsers it's been a hot minute since I posted a fic. So this one is set in the junkyard scenes from season 2. Arguably the worst season but I have a huge soft spot for season 2 Steve lol. Initially this was supposed to be a panic attack with Steve request but I don't think I quite captured a panic attack so it's just hurt/comfort instead. Ok sorry long authors note, enjoy!
Tumblr media
Your dad was going to kill you for putting a kink in one of his best golf clubs… But if you could only tell him that golf club is what helped save your life… maybe he wouldn't be so mad.
Why you had agreed to help Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington, you weren't sure. Maybe it was because you were bored. Maybe it was because you knew what it was like to have a pet run away. Maybe it was because you had a small crush on Steve and a soft spot for Dustin. Maybe it was a mixture of all those things.
Regardless, it was safe to say you got more than you ever thought you were signing up for. The day was full of lighthearted banter, buckets of raw meat, and work to be done. But once night settled over the junk yard and a steady fog drifted in, you knew things were different than you had first interpreted them to be. Steve seemed to know your realization too, you noticed, catching him glancing at you with a guilty sympathy in his eyes. At first it confused you, but now it made sense. You weren't just looking to catch or kill a rabid lost pet. You were monster hunting, and they didn't warn you.
You soon could gather that the monsters, plural, were deadly… And nothing like you'd ever seen before. So when Steve stepped out from the relative safety of the armored school bus, you best believe you had followed him out. Although terrified, the weight of responsibility and admiration of the younger kids moved you to protect and defend. Nothing was getting to them. If the creatures wanted to hurt the middle schoolers, they'd have to go through you and Steve first.
So you stood with Steve, back to back, in the chill of the night to face the not-quite-canine shadows that began circling you all. His bat gripped in his hands, and your father's golf club gripped in yours, you worked in tandem to keep the creatures away from the bus and each other.
You'd never felt such a rush of adrenaline and terror when Steve grabbed your wrist to retreat back to the bus, the creature's numbers seemingly multiplying within minutes. The kids screaming at you to run faster didn't help the nausea in your gut.
Right as Steve had pushed you aside to try and face one of the monsters head on through the porthole on the roof, the oddest thing happened. They retreated. Every one of those gurgling beasts stopped what they were doing and ran off, back into the woods, their growls and chitters fading after them.
While confused and shaken, you had looked to Steve for an answer. He had looked back at you, gears churning behind his eyes. The silence outside made goosebumps erupt over your skin, a different kind of chill rattling your bones.
Steve was the first to open the door of the bus, weapon still firm in hand. The rusted hinges of the door screeched painfully as he opened it with discretion and peered out.
You followed, and of course the kids followed you like ducklings. Slowly you all piled out of the bus onto the damp grass, the monsters nowhere in sight as the sound of their howls grew further and further away.
After a few moments, Lucas broke the silence and spoke what everyone else was thinking. “What happened?....”
Dustin shrugged. “Steve and (y/n) scared ‘em off?”
“No,” Steve let out in a breath. “No way. They’re going somewhere.”
"Going somewhere…" You repeated, letting yourself lean back and fall against the bus. You were just now noticing the aching burn in your muscles. Where the hell would monsters like that have to go?
"Is that a good or a bad thing?" Max asked, head bouncing between you and Steve.
All Steve could give in response was a shrug and an uncertain shake of the head. When Max looked at you once more, your eyes darted around at the grass in thought. "Maybe… I don't know, maybe it's good for us but bad for someone else?" You looked back up at the group. "You think they're going to attack another group of stupid kids like us?" You half joked, the humor not reaching your tone.
Your eyes bounced off each person in the group, then landed finally on Steve. Everyone radiated cluelessness, which was extremely helpful.
You huffed out a sigh. “Okay, well, you said they were going somewhere,” You finally said as you gestured to Steve. “Maybe… we should… figure out where they were going?”
“Are you insane?” Max asked in a deadpan tone; it sounded more like a statement than a question.
“Well obviously she is, she left the bus to go help Steve Harrington,” Lucas mumbled.
“Who left to help us,” Dustin argued.
Steve put his hands up, silencing the bickering kids. “Look, guys, let’s just… make it back to my car first. We’ll figure out what to do there, alright?”
Everyone silently agreed, the children muttering to each other, and began to gather their things together from the bus to leave. You waited until everyone emptied from the bus before you went in to grab your backpack and club. Your mental energy waned, brain feeling like mush, and you desperately needed a moment alone. Just a few minutes to process what the hell just went down… and if this was even still reality.
The silence in the empty bus was deafening, yet you could still hear the roar of the monsters bouncing around in your skull. You glanced up at the porthole, only to see a flash of the blooming face of teeth through your mind. The bridge of your nose tingled as a wave of water began to well up in your eyes… only for it to stop as soon as it started, your heart beat becoming increasingly harder to ignore. The tears dried up but the sinking feeling in your chest became overwhelming, growing and tightening with every second.
You let yourself fall into one of the seats at the back, feeling dizzy, staring at the floor blankly as you tried to control your breathing. It was no use, your vision felt out of focus. Your breath was stolen from you, and the cold bus began to feel like an oven. Nothing felt right.
You screamed at yourself in your mind to grab your bag and meet the crew outside, that they were waiting on you, but your body ignored the command. Your muscles were far too tense to operate, your mind too jittery to work properly, and so you sat, helpless in an emotional limbo.
The kids all met Steve in the center of the junkyard, each ready to begin the trek back to his car. It was easy to see, however, that one member of the group was missing. You.
Dustin looked over the group, then around the dark junkyard. “(y/n)'s coming, right?”
Steve looked around as well trying to spot the missing party member. He looked to the bus and barely caught the silhouette of you cowering at the back, still as a statue. His brows drew together in concern.
“Here, Dust,” Steve handed the boy his spiked bat, “I’ll be right back. Stay here and call if something happens.”
Dustin’s eyes widened with excitement at the bat and took it. He looked at Lucas smugly as he threw it over his back and rested it on his shoulder. Lucas rolled his eyes in response, as did Max.
Steve’s shoes crunched on the now freezing grass up to the bus. He quietly stepped through the still open and rusty door, peering in to see you hunched over in the back corner. The light from the moon beamed through the open roof hatch and shone a dim spotlight over where you sat. If he wasn't so concerned for you, he would have just stood and admired the moment. It made you look ethereal… in a melancholy kind of way.
"(Y/n)?" He called out gently. "You okay?"
Immediately your head jerked up and you stared wide eyed at the boy at the other end of the bus. “Sorry, I'll be uh- just… Just a few minutes," You croaked hoarsely. The heavy breathing of the cold air earlier must've irritated your throat.
You let your hair fall in your face as you bent down and began stuffing the bent golf club in your bag as if it were a sheath. You didn't have to put the club in there, but you wanted to look as though you were still busy packing. That you weren't just staring off into space being bombarded with leftover terror.
The floor creaked and a pair of dirty, white Nike shoes walked up and stopped in front of you. The familiar feeling of tears brimming your eyes returned. Oh god, why did his caring have to make this harder?
Just… go away….
Your hands slowly came to a stop and you let her hand linger on the zipper of the bag in anticipation. You could feel your hands beginning to tremor ever so slightly. A storm was brewing and you didn't want Steve there to witness it.
“I know you're not okay." He finally muttered.
That pushed you back to the edge as you slapped your hand over your mouth to stifle a sob. The storm had been called.
The shoes in front of you moved to action and you could feel the sinking of another person sitting next to you.
There, you wept, breaths becoming more choppy and uncontrolled. You sat up again and covered your face with both hands. You hated being the only one that seemed to be freaking out over the situation. You hated that Steve, of all of them, had to be the one to see you fall apart.
No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the image of that roaring, snarling creature out of your head. The dread that still tickled your scalp, the horror of feeling as though you were about to die still lingered in the air. It was a similar feeling you would have after waking from a nightmare. But this time you couldn’t dismiss the feelings away as a product of something not real. The relief of waking up was nonexistent. This was all real. Unbelievably real. You couldn't comprehend any of it and your body was having an extreme reaction.
Steve felt a hole gape in his chest full of bitterness at himself. This is exactly what he didn't want to happen.
He had known what to expect, knew how it felt to see and hurt one of those creatures. He knew the noises they made when you hit them and the awful stench of their breath. He had come to terms with the beast he fought the year before, leaving him mostly ready to face another one. Sleepless nights be damned. However, he had lost sight of the fact that you had come into the situation blind. All you expected was maybe some sort of rabid pet of Dustin's. Not a hoard of man eating monsters… and Steve couldn't help but blame himself for your current state. He should have pushed you away like he seemed to be doing to everyone else in his life. He should have left you at home that morning. He should have never picked you up.
He shifted to face his body to yours, reaching up and tugging at your wrists lightly by your face. "Hey, can you look at me? Please?"
You instinctively leaned back slightly, bowing your head, trying to tuck yourself further into the back corner. "Steve-" You tried to protest, but another sob interrupted you and shook you to the core.
His hands trailed from your wrists to the sides of your head, cupping your cold ears tenderly. "Please, just trust me," He begged, urging you to turn to him. "Look at me."
You drew in a slow breath and sighed shakily into your hands, closing your eyes behind them to will yourself to pull your hands away. You let them fall to your lap, not even bothering to wipe the tears coating your heated face.
You heard Steve sigh, then felt him pull a leg up to scooch closer to you, his hands never leaving your ears. "Please open your eyes." He didn't know why, but he wanted to see them. He had to see your eyes.
Begrudgingly you opened them, tears causing the figure in front of you to appear blurry for a few seconds. It didn't matter though. You'd recognize Steve anywhere.
Your jaw chattered ever so slightly as you tried to suppress another snivel. You quickly failed though, your face contorting and a whimper escaping your lips.
Steve's face contorted as well, one of empathy, pain, and…. There it was again. Guilt.
His hands squeezed your head slightly to hold your gaze, his head bowing down to yours to seem less intimidating. "You're okay now. I've got you, you're safe. You're alive." His tone was quiet, his voice gruff and a tad hoarse as well.
The moon beamed at just the right angle to capture one of his chocolate irises in the light, causing it to glow hazel. You tried hard to focus on it. However, another wave of tears pressed at your sinuses and you squeezed your eyes shut, letting them spill over onto your face. You turned your focus to the grounding feeling of Steve's hands cradling your head.
Immediately Steve's thumbs caught your tears, wiping them across your cheeks. "God, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let you come with us. I should've just… forced you to mind your own goddamn business," He attempted a dry chuckle and his heart sank when you didn't smile.
You pulled his hands away from your head and shook it. "Jesus, Harrington, tell me about it. A warning would have been nice." You sniveled, watching his hands now hold yours in your lap. Your fingers were freezing but somehow his were still warm.
"I know and I'm a dick for not telling you the truth. I don't know why I even-" He paused, looking away as well and down at your hands. A scoff escaped his lips. "Shit, yes I do. I know exactly why I let you come," He muttered under his breath, averting his eyes.
You wiped your cheek on your shoulder, not wanting to let go of the comforting warmth of Steve's hands. "You let me come on purpose?" You asked incredulously, now confused once again that night.
His shoulders slouched. "No?.... I mean… not entirely. I guess I was too chicken to try and take care of the kid alone? And when you came around as I was leaving his place last night I…." He shook his head, breaking him from his monologue. "I was being selfish and I'm sorry. I should have told you everything in the first place. As soon as we get to my car I'm getting you a candy bar and I'm taking you home."
That made you genuinely laugh, your body finally shaking with laughter rather than sobs. "Steve no, I don't-" You stopped yourself again, confused at the next thing you were going to say. "I don't…. Want to go home. Not yet." You finally looked up again to meet his eyes that were back on you as well, one iris still glowing in moonlight.
"What? Why?" He lifted your hands in his. "You're literally shaking, I can feel it."
You rolled your eyes, tilting your head back to watch the now dented roof. "Good lord, you don't realize how boring my life has been, do you?"
As pathetic as it sounded, it was true. The small town of Hawkins didn't have much to offer when it came to entertainment or meeting new friends. You had even almost considered going golfing with your dad a few times. As awful as you felt in that moment… you never felt more alive. Foreign blood splattered on your gold club and Steve's body heat so close to yours was exhilarating.
Steve scoffed. "I'd rather you be bored as hell safe in your room than panicking and crying in the middle of a junkyard," Steve argued. He had a point.
"Look, I just want to start over." You admitted. "I want to be here and help. I just need to know everything you know before we move on. I need to know what those things are and how literally everyone here is acting like it's normal." You stared at him intently, the shine of tears still visible on your face in the moonlight. "Because I'm in it now and you're not getting rid of me just like that."
Steve turned and looked down at your backpack and warped golf club. "Not even for a candy bar?"
You shook your head, fighting a smile. "Not even for a candy bar."
"What about two candy bars?"
"Not even for a hundred candy bars, doofus. You're stuck with me."
He smiled and shook his head in disbelief. "You should hate me right now…"
Your body finally broke out of its paralyzed state as you leapt forward and embraced him in a desperately needed hug. "You might have made me cry like a jerk, but you made me stop too. I think that stands for something."
His hands hung in the air for a moment in hesitation before slowly hugging you back. It wasn't a casual hug, nor one done unwillingly. It was snug and genuine, as if once he adjusted to it, he were trying to enfold you into his very soul.
"I'll make it up to you," He mumbled quietly into the fabric of your sweatshirt.
A sudden banging on the side of the bus made you both jump in each other's clutch. “You two better not be in there making out,” Dustin warned from the other side. “If I walk in and you two are kissing I won’t hesitate to throw up on your shoes.”
A sloppy laugh bubbled from you and you pulled away from Steve. You hoped the darkness hid the blush spreading over your cheeks. Steve chuckled as well, happy to hear you laugh again.
“I guess we should go,” He said, then looked down at you warily and squeezed your shoulder. “Unless you don’t want to yet.”
You shook your head and began to stand. “I’m- yeah, no- I’m okay now.” You stammered. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you averted your gaze from Steve's face. “We should go, they’re probably getting cold out there.”
Steve nodded, then reached down and grabbed your backpack before you could. Instead of giving it to you, he slung it over his shoulder and offered his hand instead. "If… you know it helps…"
You smiled gratefully and took his hand. Once again, it was warm and comforting like a campfire.
Standing proved to be more of a chore than you expected, your muscles now weaker from the strain of earlier. Steve was patient when you stood and wobbled slightly. When you adjusted you walked back outside with him, forgetting you were still holding his hand.
"Ah shit," Dustin exclaimed nearby. "You two were making out!"
Steve didn't even spare a glance at the boy as he passed him and snatched his bat back. "Shut it, Henderson. We have ground to cover."
191 notes · View notes
mareenavee · 8 months
Text
WIP Whenever~
Good Wednesday, my friends! I had no idea what day it was until Winter posted lol. I love that. <3
I was tagged to do this by the lovely @thequeenofthewinter, @nuwanders and @ladytanithia! I tag the most esteemed @paraparadigm, @polypolymorph, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thana-topsy, @elfinismsarts, @gilgamish, @kookaburra1701, @snippetsrus, @saltymaplesyrup, @dirty-bosmer, @orfeoarte, @archangelsunited, @inquisition-dragonborn, @tallmatcha, @rainpebble3 and YOU. Yes. If your tag is invisible, I still did tag you, so feel free to tag me back (: I'd love to see what you come up with!
Below the cut for some UNTITLED WIP stuff! This is a prompt fill for a prompt challenge I've got going with a handful of mutuals. This one will be for Para when I'm done.
More Ondolemar (and Varlais) this time. The story is fic-universe canon and occurs before A Heavy Truth, sometime early on in The World on Our Shoulders.
CW: Implied accident involving the Jarl of Markarth's pets.
Below the cut!
“Don’t touch anything, Varlais,” Ondolemar hissed. The fool had got himself chased into the ruins by the Jarl’s dogs and, of course, he had to be pulled from the rubble, so to speak. There was nothing else for it. Though, of course, Mother would have words about this situation – none of them good. The dogs were, at the moment, nowhere to be found. It was tough to say if Varlais had run through Nimhe’s chamber with them close behind on purpose. He’d come away with only a mild poisoning and a few new scars to add to his immense collection. The dogs… Well, he didn’t have to put two and two together and upset himself again.
Varlais had kept his hand on the Dwemer metal plate anyway and was doubled over between two pipes. The loud exhale of steam from a nearby vent blessedly muted the sound of his illness. Ondolemar didn’t have anything on hand to help with that, so he’d just have to suffer until it passed. He himself had only barely managed to kill the wretched spider, only narrowly escaping a similar fate. It had been hours before he’d been able to discover where Varlais had stashed himself away, and longer still to Heal him. They were thoroughly lost in the depths of Nchuand-Zel, his absolute favorite place on all of Nirn. And the Falmer – everywhere! Like vermin. As if the day couldn’t get any worse.
Varlais was looking sorrier by the second. Had they not both fallen through a rusted grate and between all this metalwork, they’d have a clue of where they’d ended up. Calcemo’s expedition team had mapped this place up through a certain point, before the Falmer attacks, the deaths and then, of course, the resulting need to seal off the inner chambers. Leave it to the nitwit to burst through locked doors. If only his magic worked reliably for other, more important tasks. There was no longer a way to tell how far down they were.
“Ondolemar, I’m going to die here,” Varlais complained. He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. True, he was pale, the gilding almost gone from him in his misery. But it was just frostbite spider venom – and only a single bite, now healed. The pain and nausea would be a bit much, come to think of it. It’d been a while since he’d had to deal with the poison. And it had been a much smaller specimen.
“You’ll be fine,” Ondolemar said. He walked over with a Calm spell in hand. “Let go for a second.” Varlais obliged and closed his eyes, breathing as steadily as he could through flared nostrils. Ondolemar rolled his eyes. He sighed and passed the spell over the back of Varlais’s head and down over his shoulders. It wasn’t taking quite as easily, hackles up as they were at the moment. It took some doing – and more Magicka than he’d have otherwise wasted – until the spell settled into the crevices of Varlais’s mind. His shoulders relaxed; his jaw unclenched. He still looked like hell. Ondolemar almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“We have to find – ” Varlais started, pausing to turn away and retch. He sighed and steadied himself on Ondolemar’s forearm. “We have to find a way out of here.” 
“No kidding,” Ondolemar said through gritted teeth, perhaps more icy than he had originally intended. He rolled his sore shoulder where he’d landed hard on the stonework. He’d need a real healer whenever they managed to get out of this place. They both would.
Varlais dragged himself along behind Ondolemar as they moved through the crumbling stonework, littered now and again with sharp fragments from the damaged grates above their heads. Acid from the pollution of the city above had seeped into this ruin through the cracks over untold centuries and ate away at the metalwork. Pipes had broken, machines had seized up. It reflected the state of things topside, really. Apt he was caught in this place like a fly in a web. Every waking hour already felt like that, and this was no better. He frowned in dismay. At least it wasn’t cold down here. Thank Mara for small miracles.
They walked through great gates of jagged filigree, bent and warped with age, hanging precariously off hinges green with patina. The corridor opened into a wide, dimly lit area, the stench of fungus and mold wafting over from somewhere deep in the darkness. Along the way, Ondolemar had taken out a few more Falmer with Shock magic. He was no good with a bow, and Varlais was hardly in any condition to aim, let alone keep from drawing attention to themselves. This place seemed to be far flung even from the hive located in these ruins. The sound of gears echoed through the chamber, which was cut through with flowing water, contaminated by slicks of oil and the putrescent miasma of rot – likely bodies of Falmer or chaurus, or worse. There would be no point in thinking about it. He pulled the edge of his silk undershirt up from under his standard issue robes to settle it over his nose and tried to concentrate on anything else at all.
The lighting was rather odd the further they walked into the dimness. A green-blue glow emanated from what appeared to be rather large mushrooms, which seemed almost purposefully cultivated, towering and casting odd half-lit shadows across mountains of rubble as far as the eye could see. Which, admittedly, was not very far. Ondolemar’s attention shifted as Varlais stumbled behind him leaning into one such pile; the action sent a cascade of ceramic tile and other debris crashing down toward them. Without thinking twice, he yanked his friend out of the way just in time. Varlais coughed as thousands of years worth of dust choked the air.
“Do try to be less of an idiot,” Ondolemar sighed.
45 notes · View notes
heliads · 2 years
Note
Hi, Could I request dating Pietro Maximoff and going into a "haunted house" with him headcanons (yk one of those houses that they put up during fall/Halloween that people walk through?) Also female reader if you could please :)
anything for you anon
masterlist
Tumblr media
By all accounts, Pietro Maximoff should be fantastic at haunted houses
It’s what he swears to you while you’re waiting in line, certainly, that he won’t be surprised if you’re cowering behind him the entire time
You’re used to your boyfriend’s confidence, but you weren’t expecting to doubt him on something like this
After all, he’s spent his fair share of time in the HYDRA labs, surely something as insignificant as a jump scare shouldn’t freak him out too badly, right?
Wrong!
Five seconds in, some college kid in an ill fitting costume pops out from behind a door and Pietro screams so loudly you almost thought someone else was in the room with you
He tries to play it off, of course, but the damage is done
You know your boyfriend for what he is: easily spooked
It’s fantastic
After that, he tries his best to maintain a poker face to varied success
He’s fine, Y/N, what are you talking about, this is just some house and Oh My God, A Demon Child Just Came Out of Nowhere, No Stop Laughing At Me This Is A Normal Reaction To Have
As you progress throughout the house, you can feel Pietro trying to keep himself calm, which is honestly pretty funny
Seeing as there’s no real threat posed by anything in the haunted house, Pietro’s scaring himself for nothing, which is making the whole experience even more fun for you
Also, it allows you to hold his hand the entire time, something you’d never scoff at either
One time, Pietro forgets himself and uses his inhuman abilities to sprint down a darkened hallway in the span of a second after some little ghost girl popped out of the wall next to him
He appeared by your side again moments later, apologizing profusely, but you’re definitely going to use this as ammunition any chance you get
You can hear him swearing under his breath as you move throughout the house, something about how stupid Americans with their stupid traditions are going to contribute to his early, heart attack-induced death, which only makes you laugh harder
Once you make it out, Pietro buys you food at the haunted house’s kiosk, both as an apology for dragging you through the thing and also as a bribe to get you to not tell Wanda a word
Do you appreciate the bribe? Absolutely
Will it work? Absolutely not
Throughout the entire thing, though, he’s definitely checking in on you and making sure you’re still having a good time
Mainly because if he has to go through the godforsaken thing, you had better be enjoying yourself or he’ll get you out of there as soon as he can
All in all, though, it’s a very fun time, and you’re definitely going to take Pietro to another haunted house as soon as he forgets the trauma of this one
marvel tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @caswinchester2000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes
280 notes · View notes
sortofanobsession · 2 years
Text
To Cry for the Moon Part 10 (Moon Knight x Female Eternal!Reader)
Author's Note: The one is going to be tough, but I promise it will pay off. We actually do have a plan for this story.
Please do not take, copy, or translate without talking to me first. Reblogs, likes, and comments are encouraged. But anything else please message me first. I work really hard on these, I was a writing apprentice for a comic book writer and learned this craft despite having issues I had to overcome, like essential tremors, a mild reading disability, and aphantasia. I put my heart and soul into everything I write. Thank you.
The story idea, and most of the voicemails to Steven & Marc were written by @jupitersmoon167 (the original post I saw is here!) Also realized I should probably add content warnings, so I did and tagged them. If you think I missed a warning please send me an ask. I try to tw tag even the tiniest thing so no one has to suffer if I can help it.
Y/N = Your Name. Y/N/N = Your Nickname. Reader pronouns She/Her. Story is 3rd person POV. Italics are the reflected alter talking.
Tag Requests are Open just message me.
Tagged: @rosaren2498, @yuugenmomo, @faefanatic,  @urlocallsimp @assassinsasha23, @queenariesofnarnia, @rmoonstoner,  @crypticruler, @animelover18, @philiasoul, @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol, @22carolina08, @preciousbabypeter
Primary Pairing: Steven Grant x Eternal!Reader, Marc Spector x Eternal!Reader, Khonshu x Ma'at!Reader
Content Warning: Mental Illness, Injury, Death, Violence, Fighting
Word Count: 2k+ (for those curious the whole fic wc is 17,332. And it is nowhere near done lol)
WIP Series Masterlist
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 11, Part 12
Part 10: Seemingly the End
After getting off the plane painful memories came rushing back. Y/N had not been back here since the Eternals separated. It was a painful memory but she pushed through it. After taking a short trip to a small city, Y/N pulls out her phone. She makes one last call before they venture too far from the jungle-surrounded city to have signal. She calls Steven and isn't surprised to hear his outgoing voicemail again.
“Screw the theatrics, I don’t even know if you’re even going to get this. We’re in the middle of the god damn Amazon because Druig thought it would be a grand fucking idea to place his cult here of all places. He’s a stubborn bastard, but if we’re gonna pull this off we need him. I'm sorry, Marc, Steven. I am so sorry. Osiris can tell you what is happening, all Khonshu has to do is ask. Khonshu was more right about me than he could have ever known. And well, I meant it earlier when I said you should talk to your dad, you uh, never know when he’ll kick the bucket, so to speak. I miss you guys, I wish I could talk-” she lost signal as they got further from the city. She hoped enough of the message went through. She put her phone away and took to the air to attempt to narrow down Druig's commune location.
Her feet touch the ground as they near the modest commune. She could feel the people around them. Their hearts are kind and welcoming. She watches the people around her as the others talk. They all feel like good people. She can feel their loyalty. It's quiet and content. Her focus is drawn and she feels herself truly smile for the first time since leaving London when Druig finally walks out.
"Please," Druig says with a smirk, "Make yourselves at home." 
He studied Y/N as she got closer. "Who do I need to control off a cliff for taking the stars from your eyes?" Druig asks as she finally near him.
"Wouldn't kill him, or them, if you did, but you'd probably still enjoy it," Sprite told him. Druig raised a brow.
"Doesn't matter," Y/N says, knowing it was so much more than her issues with Marc and Steven. "It's good to see you." It wasn't a lie. She always missed Druig. He was more her brother than the others. Druig could always understand how overwhelming her powers were. How being surrounded by people was a blessing and a curse. He could feel the minds around him like a constant buzz. Y/N always felt the same thing but instead of minds, it was hearts. Having to sit back and watch the wars and conflicts as time went on weighed on her heart as it did his mind. They had an understanding of things that the others just couldn't comprehend. The heart and the mind were vital to human existence after all. The only difference was he could control minds, she had to judge hearts as is. And honestly, he thinks he was given the easier task. 
Druig rolls his eyes but hugs her, he didn't need to read her mind to know how broken she was. "Told you that you should have come with me. They would have loved you. No one would have broken your heart." He gestures to the members of his commune. 
"Ask me again after you talk to everyone else," she tells him. 
"I might just hold you to it." Druig grins.
"I might just let you." Y/N hugs him again.
Druig chuckles as he pulls away, and goes to the main hall with her just behind him. 
She knew he was stubborn but she had hoped he wouldn't resist them so much. He gets under everyone's skin so easily sometimes. And Ikaris made it easy. It didn't help Sersi's phone went off. It made Y/N want to check hers, but she knew she wouldn't have anything. Marc didn't want anything to do with her. No need to waste the battery. Instead she reached out with her powers to feel the community Druig had cultivated for years. They were so content. It wasn't easy knowing if the team failed, these people would die. Her attention was drawn back by Ikaris saying Druig was wasting their time. Druig hadn't agreed to join them. She wasn't really surprised. She had been hopeful, but not unrealistic.
Y/N follows Druig out. "You told me to ask you to stay again," he says. 
"I did," Y/N replied.
"Would you?" He asks.
"Not if it means I'd just have to stay here and watch them all die without trying to stop it. Osiris and Isis believe we can stop it. I have let them down enough ready, I have to try."
"And you're here to convince me to help," he states.
"I'm here because I missed you and I would feel better if you were there. Is it so bad I wanted to see one of my best friends one last time before we all might die or get reset? Yes, I was hoping you would help us, but I'm not going to make you." 
"You still wouldn't join me, would you? You love your human too much, the one that broke your heart. You could always bring him."
"His mind would drive you up a wall. They have at least 3 personalities and Khonshu in their head."
"Sounds crowded," Druig admits. "But does sound amusing. Haven't had a new challenge in centuries."
"If you want a challenge then join us, forcing a celestial to sleep, I don't think you could find a bigger challenge."
"I see what you did there," Druig says, shaking his head.
"And you know me too well to know I can't just let humanity end because of Arishem's lies. I've always been willing to die for the truth, only this time I genuinely might."
"Try not to," he says. Before they can say much more, they hear Sersi shouting. Deviants. Deviants had found them. Y/N takes off running, summoning her wings as she did. She flies and joins Kingo in trying to buy the others enough time to get the villagers clear of the fight. As Kingo focuses on keeping one of them busy, Y/N tries to keep them away from where Sersi is leading the people. She shouts for Sersi when the other Eternal is hit while trying to fortify the building. Y/N immediately launches a round of feathers at the beast to draw it away from her friend. Her attacks are joined by rifle fire and her heart sinks when she sees a number of villagers under Druig’s control shooting at the beast. She goes to volley another attack when Druig jumps over the deviant and shoots at it. 
“Seriously?!” She shouts as she drops down to block the creature's tail as it swipes at the humans. Her wings took the brunt of the blow. She hopes that Druig is paying enough attention so that she doesn’t end up with a bullet in her back while trying to defend his people. She doesn’t even have enough time between blows to get a hit in. She focuses everything she has on staying ahead of the deviant's tail. She was starting to think that splitting her powers may have actually been a mistake when she feels herself losing her footing. Unable to get into the air was limiting what she could do. She tries to summon a blade but the deviant shifts faster than she can, wraps its tail around her leg and slams her into the dirt, before she can get her wings back up to protect herself, the jaws of the beast latch onto her side. Ripping a scream from her as it does. 
The only reason it doesn’t kill her is that Sersi traps it in a metallic tree and Druig pulls her out from the shocked creature’s gaping maw. She pushes him away. She doesn’t have the energy to tell him how stupid he was being. She left Sersi to talk sense into him. Y/N took to the sky to get a better chance for an attack. The pain in her side was unbelievable, but she focused on attacking as the deviant broke free from its improvised cage. She’d never been so glad to see Ikaris in her life when he shows up to take on the deviant now heading for Druig. He took the beast out swiftly with his eye beams, before going after another. She tried to give him aerial support, but it was becoming harder and harder to build up enough energy for an attack. She feels water hit her as Sersi battles a deviant by hand. Y/N is just as shocked as the rest of the group when Sersi transforms the deviant into a tree. 
Y/N begins to feel her wings fade and flicker, and her vision grows fuzzy around the edges. She knows she won’t last much longer. Her heart is beating too fast and the bite on her side has already soaked her shirt and jacket in blood. She knew her phone was probably smashed in her pocket. There went her chance at telling Steven and Marc goodbye. She tries to lower herself gently to the ground but her knees buckle and she falls. She hears shouting and feels hands on her. They move her and she stares at the tops of the trees. She wishes she could see more of the sky. She loves the sky. She loves flying. It felt natural. She wishes she could see the moon, one last time. To know that maybe, just maybe she'd get to say goodbye. She tried, but all that came out was a choked sob. She wanted to tell them all that she would see them in the next life. It wasn't until hands gripped her face and brushed back her tears that she focused on the figures now blocking small bits of the canopy.
She tried to reach for them and her blood-soaked hand was pulled into Sersi's own. She shook her head at Druig as he tried to help her. Her other hand gestures for them to come closer. They do. She summons up as much energy as she can. "Save them for me." 
"We will," Sersi says. 
She leans her head up with the last strength she has and bumps Druig's forehead earning a sad laugh. Her head drops back down but he returns the gesture.
"You've got nothing to worry about now," he says. Her strength is gone, she closes her eyes and knows it's over. A fleeting thought of goodbye and then darkness. 
Druig was on his feet as soon as he knew she was gone. He looked at the destruction around them and the blood on his hands. Sersi squeezes the limp hand in hers before she stands up. She needs to think. She has to call Steven. Sersi feels another piece of her heart shatter. But before she can do anything she's called because Y/N isn't the only loss. Gilgamesh had fallen defending Thena. And Thena was inconsolable.
Egyptian Underworld 
Osiris hears shouting. He approaches the scales as the chains of the plate holding the feather break. He picks up the feather and it feels wrong. Very wrong. Too much like a normal feather and the ethereal glow dims slightly. That was not good. He gently sets it aside. "Time to intervene," he says and gestures for Anubis to follow him as he opens the gates and they pass through. Summoning their avatars he opens the path to Y/N. "Oh little feather, what did you do." He nods at Anubis who has his avatar carefully lift Y/N and they return to the temple. "Fix her up as best you can. Her master may have forsaken her, but we shall not. Teach those Celestials that they have no more power over death than we do."
Osiris was quick to retrieve the feather of truth, encouraged by the slight glow that it still held. It was her, she had told him. Now he would use it to put things back the way they should be. A devoted goddess like Ma'at deserved at least that. If she was too far gone and beyond his reach, he would have Anubis do what he was best at, what he was worshipped for. But Osiris felt it would work. They would not be saying goodbye to Earth. It was not their time yet.
Ruins of Druig's Commune
"Where is she?" Kingo asks as he goes to retrieve Y/N to place her alongside Gilgamesh.
"What?" Druig pushes past him to find Y/N's body gone.
"You're sure she was dead?" Ikaris asks and earns a vicious glare from Druig. 
"Yes," Druig spat.
"Maybe an animal-"
"Don't-" Druig warns.
"Druig," Kingo starts. 
"Then we have to find her," Sersi says. 
Sprite and Thena stay with Gilgamesh while the others search and find nothing. No signs of tracks, no trace. Nothing. They eventually decide that they had to give Gilgamesh a proper send-off. And Sersi still had something she needed to do.  
Once Sersi was able to clean her hands she found her phone and found Steven's number. She calls it. They don't answer, though she wasn’t surprised. They probably thought Y/N had borrowed her phone to call. So she left them a message she knew would destroy them if and when they do get it.
 "Steven, or Marc, it's Sersi, I…I hate having to do this in a voicemail. I would rather do this in person, or even in a real phone call, I…if we had more time I would do this in person, but we lost Y/N. Part of me hopes Khonshu knows, she always found it annoying when he boasted about knowing all that happened under the moon." Sersi let out a shaky laugh. "She…well, she fought to the end. She loved humanity, she loved you all. She loved you, both of you. She would want you to know."
Sersi hung up and just hoped the message got through. But she would find a way to reach them, to save them, and all of humanity. Druig was onboard now. They would end this for all of them. Their deaths would mean something.
Temple of the Gods
The first thing that registers to Y/N's mind is the cold. She feels cold, the cold stone beneath her makes her shiver.
"Welcome back, Ma'at," the voice of Isis' avatar says. "The goddess will be glad you pulled through." Y/N goes to speak but is hushed. She hears footsteps approaching followed by a whispered conversation she cannot process. Y/N finally opens her eyes but puts up no fight as she is lifted. The avatar of Anubis sets her back down but this time on a soft blanket that the goddess' avatar gently wraps around her. "You have been through quite the journey, and you need rest. Sleep now."
The next time she wakes Osiris is there, his avatar looms above her as he updates her on what has happened. Her family had lost another soul. Gilgamesh had fought and earned a warrior's death and were it up to Osiris he would be rewarded in his afterlife. Sadly, Gilgamesh, like Ajak, was beyond his reach. 
"But your feather saved you," he told her. "Your commitment to serving humanity in this life and the next is what brought you back. Your strength will hopefully return with time, but your heart beats again, and when the time comes you will show the Celestials that we gods are not to be underestimated. He sat the feather gently beside her, the faint glow although weaker than before still shown. "You have earned more time, feather. I know you will use it wisely."
She wakes again in a bed with soft light shining through the open window. "You are safe," the voice of Osiris' avatar spoke. "You will find everything you need in this room. Bathroom, if you feel like you have the strength is through there." He gestures to an open door. "You are safe here. Osiris will summon you when the time comes."
"I need to call my family, to call-"
"If you wish to help them you will not waste your energy," another voice spoke. She recognized the avatar for Horus. "You wish to join your friends again to fix things, do you not?"
"I do," she admits.
"Then do not waste your energy or tax your healing system with concerns that won't matter. You do not yet know if you can join them or if they will succeed. Why make them suffer your death twice?"
"And Khonshu has not graced us with his presence, even Taweret is surprised, but no need to worry the old bird over things he cannot change. Heal first, then you can right your wrongs."
141 notes · View notes
elleloquently · 1 year
Text
hi guys <3 since invisible string has wrapped up, there's been some things on my mind lately that have made posting a little less fun than i would like... i figured that i sort of just wanted to get it off of my chest before i dive into my next fic. i sort of feel like an ass for even mentioning this stuff but i've seen so many other writers having the same issues as well.. nobody has to read this at all - i guess this is just a clue to where i'm at and my relationship with writing on tumblr right now. this might be a bit of a doozy so i do apologize, i don't mean to sound whiny but truly i just want to get it off of my conscience.
also i want to stress that this has nothing to do with the people that have been continuously kind - i've been reading ur messages and comments regarding the final part of invisible string and i am quite literally over the moon with happiness, ilysm
firstly i want to say that you, my readers, have been so lovely. i know my account is not huge and i do not complete requests in a timely manner, but you all have shown me so much love and positivity that i cannot even fathom. i feel silly talking about "negative" things bc all of the love and support that i receive significantly outweighs the bad, but unfortunately i'm only human.
i've seen countless other writers talk about this as well, but the interaction blues are so real. it feels so contradictory to say this because all i'm doing is typing a silly little story, a fanfiction, at that, so i am absolutely nowhere near being a sophisticated writer... therefore i do not at all feel entitled to reblogs or comments or anything of the sort. but at the same time... it is so discouraging to work so hard on a piece, trying to frame it just right and even adding moments thinking, they'll love this... only for the notifs to be flooded with only likes and demands for a next part. and i absolutely know that these readers mean no ill intent whatsoever, it just feels disheartening at times, like guys can we please just appreciate one thing at a time? it almost makes the writer feel like they haven't done good enough, and it's such a shitty feeling after working so hard. just please remember that tumblr writers are people, we're doing this in our free time and writing for free (despite the silly little tumblr tip jar feature) - if there's a piece or a writer that you enjoy, please let them know! comments, reblogs, messages, all of those do so much to help support the writer and it's so encouraging.
the next point being, the echochamber that is fanfiction. i've pretty much fooled myself if i thought that i could come on here and have a solely original idea. it is still so frustrating sometimes despite how hard i try not to take it seriously. it does feel stupid to take fanfiction seriously but anyway... lately i've been torn between supporting all of the amazing writers on this app and the feeling like i don't want to read anything that appears in the ellie tag anymore. i can be working away at a piece for weeks, and then read someone else's work that has something similar and i feel like i have to delete the things that i've worked on because i never want to seem unoriginal, especially when you're on the flip side of it.. it sucks. it feels like you have a special idea, no matter how big or small, and the second that you post about it, it's everywhere. again, the echochamber. i'd be hard pressed to be able to put something out that someone else hasn't also done, or to put something out and not have other people use it too. it still just feels stressful sometimes, trying to make something about your work special so other people want to read it.
which brings me to my next thought... writing for engagement versus writing for fun. obviously we all want our work to be supported. it's sad when you work hard and it's just not. so yes, always support your writers. but with that, i really want to try to keep that joy in writing, and to not get overwhelmed. my next fic is going to be purely for fun. it is frankly so annoying to research the game or replay it over and over just to make sure every single detail is perfect. that isn't fun to me, i don't want to make something that is word for word and scene for scene something that already exists. i want to make it my own, with different worldbuilding and details for my own storytelling. if you're someone who has an issue with creative changes or inaccuracies from the game- my works may not be for you, and that's okay. i'd rather miss out on some readers than have people comment about something that is wrong.
i know this is all so much and it is a bit ridiculous, i don't think i'm the only one though. it gets a bit much to play into the social aspect of this community, not just writing but trying to appeal to everyone or making sure that all of the other accounts like me.. which just, isn't always going to be the case. with that being said, please remember that i'm a person and i have a job and i'm in college, it's hard to get on tumblr and write when i have huge essays due every night. just keep that in mind, if it takes me a long time to update or post it's not because i'm purposefully trying to make you suffer, there's just other things going on. please have courtesy for writers, please support writers. with all of that being said, i do hope i don't come off as a total drag. again- to all of you who have been nothing but kind and supportive, i love and appreciate you all so much. you are actively making this community and this hellsite a better place, so thank you for that.
much love,
<3 elle
38 notes · View notes
spaceofentropy · 10 months
Text
Brain Weasels! Assemble!
aka: @creepkinginc (hi, Nosho! 💙) tagged me in this thing that @thatoneao3author (hiiii!) concocted, and today the brain is braining the right way, so here we are! With a long long long thing. I made it Gallavich. Maybe if the brain keeps on braining right, tomorrow I'll do another version for another ship, who the heck knows! Not me!
So, the rules (more or less) are:
use this au generator to assign you an au, this fan fiction trope generator to give you a trope/situation/sometimes another au, feel free to keep clicking until you get something that inspires you.
then try to come up with the title, plot, vibe, and details of a fic including whatever the generators gave you. you don’t actually have to write it, just put the concept into the world! this is basically just a thought experiment.
The randomizing gods gave me a Hacker(s) AU and (after a couple of nope tropes, because I don't know shit about Regency, sorry, gods!) on New Year's Day soulmates switch bodies for 24 hours and have to try and figure out who the other person is so they can find them when the time is up.
Title: Words within the margin [I'm terrible at titles but make do with music 😎]
Plot: it's after the cut because it's long! 🫣
Mickey as our hacker. He doesn't think the whole soulmate thing will ever happen to him, so he is well beyond plastered when the New Year starts and the switch happens. He wakes up in a cabin somewhere in the fucking woods, not a car, let alone a road or even dirt path, near it. He's in the middle of fucking nowhere. Not happy about it. Oh, and this weirdo doesn't even have a cell phone or computer or anything like that in the cabin! And clearly he doesn't believe in mirrors. All that Mickey has are food, shelter, and books on psychology and mental illness. The best idea of this weirdo's face he gets from the lid of one of the pots in the kitchen: pale, redhead, greenish eyes maybe? Hard to tell from a lid. Great dick. And tall, holy fuck it's weird to be this tall, he keeps on bumping against stuff because he miscalculates spaces and distances.
Meanwhile, Ian does not wake up early and bright in the little cabin where he's taking a well deserved pause from the world and his job as a counsellor. Nope. It's well past midday and he's in a body that's super hangover, in an apartment that looks more like a computer repair shop than anything else. All the devices are password protected, even the couple of cell phones he finds. There are two wallets with two different sets of IDs for two different names. No paper mail or useful documents anywhere that he can find. The more he tries to pinpoint who this guy is from stuff in his house, the less he knows, aside from the fact he likes cheap beer, knives, and videogames.
Mickey spends most of his time in the cabin perusing the books, there are little notes here and there, the guy has a dorky sense of humor that makes him chuckle, but he also sprinkles here and there glimpses of bad experiences with doctors, with meds and treatments and healthcare providers that were not great.
Ian leaves the apartment to look for more clues about, at the very least, where this weirdo lives, but it's even worse, one of the neighbors catches him as he tries to steal someone's mail (it would have been such an easy way to get at least an address!) and he runs, not sure why but he just runs. Wanders an unknown town like many others, no idea where he is. Finds his way back to the building, he has a road name and a number, except there must be so many Washington Streets around... He spends hours looking at the weirdo's stuff, feeling like he's intruding just by being there, every moment less sure of wanting to know this guy. They are soulmates, apparently, but... he feels like he's stepping into a cheap spy story. Perfect stuff to further unbalance the already unsteady situation inside his brain. What if this guy is even crazier than him? There are so many weird thing, in his apartment and potentially his life... 
There's a phonecall to one of the phones, he answers hoping the person at the other end will say something useful, a name, a detail, something, but the girl only calls him fuckface and dickhead. A relative, judging by how, after a while, she gets worried when Ian doesn't answer the way she expected. He's debating whether to tell her that he's a visiting soulmate or not, when midnight strikes and he's thrown back into his body, in the cabin, with one of his books open in his hands and a note in a different handwriting than his in the corner.
Nice refuge you have here, Firecrotch. Bet I still can find you in a week or less. Hope you didn't make a mess at my place. Had no idea what to do with them, so take your meds, dude. M.
It takes Mickey 8 days to come knocking on the door to Ian's cabin, and only because he has to go to an office in person, they do all stuff on paper in Bumfuck County, Wherever It Is Ian's Cabin Is, damn neanderthals!
Less than twenty minutes after meeting him in person for the first time, Ian's doubt about Mickey are relegated to background noise. The universe might be right with this soulmates thing!
Yeah. I think that's it. That's what happens when the brain weasels latch onto an idea they like (and they LOVE soulmates) 🤷‍♀️
I'm supposed to tag people, but honestly I don't know if I have the bandwidth left for it. 🥲 If you read this and want to do it, you're welcome to! ❤️
19 notes · View notes
dhampiravidi · 9 months
Text
hot take: I relate to Carmy Berzatto in S2 of The Bear
putting this under a read more bc of the topic (mentioned in tags):
so The Bear wasn't my favorite in S1, but S2 is very well-written, especially when it comes to its portrayal of mental illness(es). I want to start by saying that ofc not everyone experiences the same mental illness the same way. But I really relate to Carmy, so much that it hurts. I realized that I related to him when it's the focus group scene--he says something akin to, "I try to act like there won't be another shoe to drop, but there always is." Then, there's the whole X-Mas episode. And finally, the day the restaurant opens.
I have generalized anxiety, clinical depression & mild C-PTSD. Here's how I viewed the aforementioned scenes:
Focus Group: let me start by saying I've never been to group therapy (& I don't think I will; I just prefer 1-on-1). Still, I talk to myself a lot, which allows me to confront most of my inner feelings/thoughts. Anyway, it was a sad thing to realize that, over the years, I, too, have stopped believing that I have time to enjoy good moments...because there's always some new shit, some new problem to deal with.
X-Mas: if I had to be in a real-life situation similar to that episode, I'd definitely have an anxiety issue (I say "issue" to differentiate from a panic/anxiety attack). I'm a perfectionist who cares about pleasing people, even if I dislike said people. So to see Carmy in such a stressful place where nowhere is quiet enough to relax...that was hard. I desperately wanted the mom to get some mental help while someone else ordered in. I wanted Bob Odenkirk/Uncle Lee to shut up because to me, Jon Bernthal/Michael seemed to be both depressed and developing anger issues. I wanted to tell Abby Elliot/Natalie that she doesn't need to worry about her mom. & then the whole time I'm hoping that Carmy doesn't have some kind of a breakdown or anxiety issue, because then everyone will fuss over him to the point of starting a fight.
Opening Day: I knew the moment Claire was introduced that she was going to be the third point in a Claire-Carmy-Syd love triangle, one where Carmy ultimately has to choose between taking time off to cultivate his own happiness (something he doesn't do) & making sure that the restaurant is a success. I was glad that, overall, the opening night was awesome. But 1) I was scared for Carmy because apparently you can die within a couple of hours in a walk-in if you aren't careful, and 2) they had Claire be the one to hear his self-destructive rant. I'm not mad at him for ranting. He's a mentally ill/depressed person who works in an unforgiving industry. Despite the customers' happiness, he didn't have a great night. His brother, who was also in the food business, is dead (which I think adds onto Carmy's desire to be successful). Keep all that in mind. Carmy gave Claire the wrong number because he (in my opinion) didn't think he could juggle his commitment to the restaurant with a romantic commitment...& he doesn't think he deserves to be loved/happy (which he admitted in the fridge). If he doesn't end up with Syd by the end of S2, I think the writers will let him be with Claire because nothing he said was actually blaming her for anything. Depressed people love blaming ourselves.
Anyway, kudos to the writers of the show & to Jeremy Allen White.
3 notes · View notes
schnuffel-danny · 1 year
Note
https://schnuffel-danny.tumblr.com/post/703811669350121472/schnuffel-danny-this-isnt-directed-at-anyone-in
Good post, but I feel that something is missing. A lot of things, actually...
What is an "harmful stereotype" exactly?
Who decides what is and what isn't harmful and to whom?
What if what you consider a harmful stereotype is someone else's way true of being/this depiction brings them comfort?
If you feel like a creator made a harmful stereotype, what should be done about it?
Call them out on it (and risk forcing someone to out their own mental health issues in order not to be harassed)?
When is it calling someone out for causing harm and when is it straight up censorship?
Isn't it okay as long as the creator adds warnings or tags to avoid their work?
These questions brought to you by a trans man who was dogpiled and harassed for "harmful stereotypes" in his own vent art about his own trans experiences.
To be clear: I do not need an answer to all these questions, but I do think it's important to remember that you cannot look into another person's head and see what they were thinking when they made something, and decide whether or not they should be forced to alter or erase their art for your own comfort.
I feel like you're putting words in my mouth, nowhere in the post do I advocate for callouts or harassment. I only ask that people be mindful of the fact that sometimes even fictional scenarios can parallel real world mental illness and stereotypes around it. That's it, that's the whole post. What people post is ultimately not up to me and I'm not going to go out of my way to seek out content that makes me uncomfortable. I never assume people create fan works in bad faith, and I don't believe anyone else should either, the post isn't calling anyone hateful or ableist - sometimes people just don't know where certain tropes may have come from. I don't even tell people to completely avoid all potential stereotyping, I just ask they don't get too swept up in it. I really am not going after anyone and I absolutely realize sometimes people's work isn't going to be all sunshine and rainbows, mine isn't either! In this case what I meant by harmful stereotyping is, for example, when portraying Plasmius as a separate consciousness from Vlad it gets blamed for all of Vlad's actions - Vlad was a completely rational and kind man until his mind 'split' and the voices in his head started telling him to kill people. I think it's pretty understandable that someone who has alters irl might see this and think "Oh hey, this kind of makes it sound like this person thinks all alters are inherently evil, that's upsetting." Does the OP actually think that? Probably not, but the way they write this scenario that bears striking resemblance to to irl issues seems like they've only seen this type of mental illness portrayed in a negative light before. I think people create to tell interesting stories, and sometimes to do that they take aspects from works they've seen that (unknown to them) may have been made in bad faith. I really hope you didn't send this ask with the goal of starting an argument, I'm not here to fight about opinions online, I'm here to post mediocre art and unfunny shitposts. All I stand for is unrelenting kindness, not harassment and witch hunting. I don't ask people to look for art to get angry at, I ask people who create to do a little bit of research on dissociative disorders before they integrate a direct parallel to them into their work. I obviously can't know what someone's real world experience with mental health may be, but I hoped that the wording of the post made it clear that it wasn't meant for people venting about their own mental health, but for people who don't experience dissociative identity or similar issues. English isn't my first language and I have problems that make communication through text incredibly hard. I understand that people will not get my intentions fully from one post as they cannot see into my head, but I hope this clears things up a little. This is the last thing I will say on that issue, thank you for reading.
5 notes · View notes
lorillee · 2 years
Note
Hello lorillee
What are ur top 3 favorite one piece arcs, and ur least favorite arc
well honestly my number one spot may be . a little controversial but im gonna have to hand it to dressrosa. did it have an egregious amount of plot devices? yes. do i care? no. not at all. not even a little bit. the birdcage gets exponentially funnier the more the powerscalers get mad about it.
but no in all seriousness dressrosa is honestly my favorite arc atm. this should honestly not come as a surprise because i am a noted law stan but like. man oda rlly knocked it out of the park. the character work and themes .... just. *chef's kiss*. spectacular. im not smart enough to make a proper analysis of it but everybody should go watch murphy napier's dressrosa videos. unfortunately as it goes the more i like something the less able i am to put anything into words so my brain largely goes "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
number two is... whole cake island! actually wci was my number one before i reached dressrosa on my watch of the anime (using one pace) but like. man . you know what? i love pudding. i love her story. i know everybody at the time wanted her to be a hash tag girled boss but i also really dont care. if she doesnt get a happy ending ill kill oda myself. like she is another character where girlbossifying her 1) makes her a much flatter and more boring character and 2) takes out one of the biggest lenses into the abuse happening in the charlotte family and just makes the whole thing all around a lot worse. also btw people who hate pudding will die by my hand.
ANWYAYS that aside. wci did like. sooo many things right. sanji got some massive character development and finally a break from the "haha pervert" gag oda had reduced like 70% of his scenes down to at that point and also his outfits during that arc... actually wait scratch that. EVERYBODY'S outfits during wci are top tier. thats a side tangent. anwyays. it also really beat into us just how absurdly powerful the yonko are. the musical scenes in the anime were top tier. carrot's existence. brook's existence. pedro was literally epic the whole time and like hes definitely dead and id be so mad if oda resurrected him but also like. you know. i mean.... i want to see him again ................ carrot's existence again. the katakuri vs luffy fight. incredible top teir arc
number 3... water 7/enies lobby. ok its water 7 and enies lobby what else are you gonna say. everything that possibly can be said about this arc already has been so i will just leave it at that
and for least favorite! uh...... hm. idk. im gonna go with whiskey peak just because of that absolutely absurd zoro vs luffy fight that came out of nowhere and never became relevant again which i am chalking up to early series weirdness.
18 notes · View notes
reiding-writing · 26 days
Note
cold!Reader starts becoming really soft for Spencer and the team noticing?
Tumblr media
LITTLE THINGS [ONESHOT]
/ˈlɪt(ə)l -ɪŋz/
You’d like to say that you were entirely successful in emotionally removing yourself from your coworkers, but Spencer had managed to work himself into a crack in your emotional wall and the rest of the team is starting to notice.
Tumblr media
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 1.5k || series masterlist!!
WARNINGS: fem!reader, reader being dismissive and cold duh
a/n: genuinely love writing for cold!reader keep ‘em coming
main masterlist!!
Tumblr media
You walk into the bullpen with both hands occupied, a shed blazer occupying your left hand and a tardis adorned mug in your right.
It’d be a typical sight if you were a ‘typical’ person, but you had a deeply seeded aversion to the janky office coffee machine and everyone knew that the mug you were holding was reserved specifically for Spencer and his germophobic tendencies.
Although you had to agree with him on that one — sharing a coffee mug with somebody else was gross.
You leave the steaming mug on Spencer’s vacant desk as you walk around the cluster to your own, tossing your blazer haphazardly over the back of your chair to clear out the remnants of last night’s shift and the mess that remained in it’s wake.
“Good morning Ruler of all things cold and derelict, you look like you’re in a good mood today,” You shoot Morgan a glare at his jesting, pulling your desk bin onto your chair for easier access.
You blow a breath of air out through your nose as you rifle through the scribble notes you’d made, crumpling and tossing the ones no longer needed or just completely illegible. “And how would you know that?”
Morgan had a talent for not being deterred by your attitude, and he pivoted in his chair to gesture over to Spencer’s desk with his head. “You made Reid a cup of coffee,”
“So?” You furrow your expression with a glance in Morgan’s direction, putting your desk bin back beside your chair on the floor now that you could actually see the brown of your desk top.
“So, you hate the coffee machine,” Morgan raised an eyebrow with a knowing expression. “And if I recall correctly you expressly stated that the next time someone asked you to make a coffee for them you’d, and I quote, ‘shove it up their ass’,”
You roll your eyes at his response, slumping yourself in your chair with an annoyed expression.
“You‘re going soft Ice Queen,” Morgan chuckles with a shake of his head, leaning back into his chair with a satisfied expression.
“I’m not ‘going’ anything,” Your annoyance is very present on your face, but under your stony façade you know that he’s right. You are going soft. A little too soft.
“You’re going where?” Emily stumbles into the tail-end of the conversation with her own mug of coffee in hand, stopping beside Morgan’s desk with a raised eyebrow in your direction.
“Nowhere, leave it,” You scoff at the second unwanted attrition to your conversation, one you don’t even want to be having in the first place.
“She made Reid a cup of coffee using the office coffee machine,”
Emily’s gasp sounds like it belongs in a 90’s sitcom with how dramatic it is. “You used the coffee machine? You? Did you hit your head or something? Are you ill?” Emily reaches out her hand to press it to your forehead as an extension of her teasing, and you swat it away with a scoff.
“Screw off will you?”
“JJ, you’ve gotta hear this,” Emily waves JJ over as she walks out of Hotch’s office, her tone matching Morgan’s expression as the two tag-team you in their teasing.
“Huh?”
By the time JJ reaches the cluster of desks you’ve got your head in your hands and a seething expression on your face, mumbling to yourself about how much you wanted to go home despite only being in the office for fifteen minutes.
“You’ll never guess who made that cup of coffee,” Emily gestures over to the tardis mug with a smirk. “And using the office coffee machine no less,”
“Oh my god will you stop, it’s a cup of coffee for god’s sake-” You sound more exasperated than annoyed at this point, willing them to just stop making fun of you for making a single cup of god damn coffee.
“Oh, really?” Your prayers weren’t answered. And now there was three of them on your back.
You knew it was in good fun, and in part you were glad that they didn’t shut down at your harshness. It meant that they really saw you as a member of the team and felt comfortable enough in your presence to make these types of comments.
And you also knew that they did have grounds to make fun of you.
It didn’t make it any less annoying though.
The ding of the elevator was your true escape, although only for as long as it took you and your three coworkers to compute what exactly you were seeing.
Spencer’s hair. His shoulder-length hair with all of the waves and definition and the perfect silkiness that made you jealous to even look at it was gone.
You swear you almost had a heart attack at the sight, and JJ and Emily were no different.
The only one who looked vaguely normal was Morgan, a small smirk still etched on his face from his earlier teasing and now mixed with confusion at why the three of you looked like deers staring into a pair of headlights.
“Oh my god-” JJ genuinely looked like she’d just seen a puppy get hit by a truck.
“Is there something wrong?” Spencer blinked blankly at your three matching expressions, furrowing his eyebrows slightly in concern.
“Your hair-”
Spencer’s eyes rounded at the revelation of the origins of your dumbfounded stares, and he turns his eyes upwards like he’s trying to get a look at it himself. “It was getting distracting-”
He takes a small section of it between his fingers. “Does it look bad?”
It most definitely does not look bad. It looks like someone had just ripped him out of one of those romance novels where the male protagonist was tall and gorgeous and had fluffy hair that perfectly framed his forehead.
“It looks bad doesn’t it?” Spencer’s eyes avert from the group towards you, a furrowed expression on his face as his eyes scanned your features.
You were probably scowling at him.
He sighs as he dumps his messenger bag on his seat directly opposite you with a defeated look on his face.
You were definitely scowling at him.
He goes to pick up the mug from his desk with the intent of making a cup of coffee himself, but as his fingers reach the ceramic he realises that it’s hot.
“One of you made me a cup of coffee?” You can see the disappointment slowly fizzle out of his features at the sentiment.
Morgan opens his mouth to expose your favouritism but you catch him with a ‘tell him and i’ll kill you’ stare right before the first syllable leaves his mouth.
“Thought the pretty boy needed a pick-me-up, what can I say?” Morgan nudges Spencer’s shoulder as he sits down, effectively deflecting your secret coffee run onto himself.
“Oh- well- thank you?” He takes a sip of his mug cautiously like he’s expecting it to be filled with salt instead of sugar under Morgan’s craftsmanship.
But obviously it wasn't Morgan’s craftsmanship so there was no salt to be found, only a sickeningly sweet amount of sugar that makes you feel like you’re going to get cavities from just being near it. “It’s- perfect, thank you,” He sounds pleasantly surprised at the revelation as he takes a larger, more confident sip.
“No problem genius,” Morgan shoots a knowing look in your direction, joined by a firm pat on the shoulder by Emily as her and JJ retreat back to their own desks.
You can feel Spencer’s eyes linger on you as Morgan goes back to being productive, and you can still see the lingering insecurity in his pupils from the collective reaction to his new haircut.
He turns his gaze away the second you look in his direction, trying to busy himself with his mug as he takes the fourth sip in what feels like less than two minutes, moving a stray strand of hair out of his eyes with his fingertips.
“You look fine,”
“Hm?-” He almost chokes on the drink in his mouth at your response, holding a closed fist over his mouth to cough as his attention is immediately honed in on you once more.
“Your hair cut looks fine,” Your tone most definitely doesn’t match your words, but Spencer knew you weren’t the type of person to lie.
“I- uh- thank you,” Spencer deftly presses his lips into a line, a perfect example of the awkward smile that only Spencer seemed to be able to pull off without looking like a complete idiot.
You give him a hum as you turn your attention towards your computer, although his eyes don’t turn away from you when you break eye contact. “It suits you,”
Spencer hides his fluster behind the royal blue ceramic of his mug with a muttered “thanks,”.
704 notes · View notes
everyone-with-a-para · 3 months
Note
(1/5) OKAY. same guy again. i have returned for realsies this time. warning you again that i said this would be long and IT IS so by all means feel free to like. stick all these asks under a readmore so as to not annihilate everyone's dashes 😭 but with that said: so i said nanobotsverse has four arcs but it's more like four+a half, with the "and a half" one being backstory before my guy officially enters the picture+the plot gets going for real. you could call this bit "arc zero." it starts in kalos prior to the events of both bw2+xy. so you got colress, and in nanobotsverse he's actually a student/assistant of professor sycamore's (who will come back+be an actual character in the second arc), but he's...not satisfied with the work. you know how The Power Of Friendship is super important in pokemon? yeah well nanobotsverse colress is *just* as schizoid as i am+therefore has trouble bonding with his pokemon, or Any living thing, and kind of doesn't understand the concept+feels like his research is going nowhere. so after enough frustration he's like "fuck it i'm going home" and goes back to unova because that's where he's originally from. when he gets there, he winds up running into ghetsis who's been looking for a new Main Guy to recruit for the New team plasma+is like "oh fuck yes it's a mentally ill guy for me" the second he sees him. cole gets a job offer+while he thinks ghetsis has horrible rancid vibes, he DOES need work right now+likes the prospect of being able to study pokemon without the impediment of societal standards for pokemon/trainer connection. and Ethics. he also was in kalos for the whole plot of b+w and missed the whole thing with n, so he doesn't know Just how fucked up ghetsis is.
this is where the unova arc starts proper. cole runs into my guy while doing "research" (challenging random trainers to random battles as if it will enlighten him on what it means to connect with a pokemon)+my guy pretty much says "hey is your plasma research thing like. hiring." because he's new to the region and he, too, needs a job. cole, having orders to not refuse any potential recruits, is like "...sssssure" and from then on out the two of them are Associated. it will quickly become more than begrudging but right now they're kind of just coworkers. and "right now" will last at most a couple weeks, until one day ghetsis just gets attacked by his hydreigon and Dies. because he's a terrible trainer+of course the thing would snap. which is awesome tbh, but also makes cole the For-Real-Undisputed-Number-One Leader Of Team Plasma. because he doesn't actually have any connection to team plasma's real motives or ideals, much less any desire to stick around if he's not getting paid, He Does Not Want This. so he panics, disbands the whole team, and packs up his shit to run back to kalos. this makes my guy go HEY HOLY SHIT WAIT+he tags along because he hasn't got any connections anywhere else+would *also* love to not be involved with the ongoing fallout. cole is confused that he isn't more annoyed by this. The Found Family Begins.
@ninesecretsteps
Last time I tried to put all asks under a read more tumblr went kaput so it's gonna have to be one at a time
In this day and age you can't be blamed for working for the villain side bc you need a job /j
I think about Ghetsis' hydreigon a lot....
Yeah that sounds like some good found family origin
0 notes