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girlgenius1111 · 3 months

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Just Let Go

Alexia and Jenni know precisely how to rid you of your stress and frustration. You're hoping they'll be able to help Misa out, too. If she's willing to give up control.

not really smut yet but still, 18+

-----

You and Misa had hooked up before; normally, after el clásico, you'd meet up at the other's house Madrid or Barcelona. You would be celebrating, and Misa would, inevitably, be taking out her frustration on you. It had happened a few times.

You'd had an idea, though. You'd gone off at the 73rd minute, after getting 2 goals past Misa. You'd watched the rest of the game from the bench, sitting next to Jenni, who didn't miss the way your eyes kept straying to the opposing goalkeeper.

The game was one to celebrate for Barca, especially for you. You'd been going through a frustrating dry spell in regards to scoring, and today you'd broken through. Your team was ecstatic, planning to go out. You had... other plans. Evidently, as did Jenni and Alexia.

You were in the empty hall, smiling to yourself at the sounds of celebration emanating from the locker room, having just got off the phone with your sister, who was congratulating you on a game well done. As you were about to hang up, Alexia and Jenni slipped out of the locker room. Alexia wrapped an arm around your abdomen, resting her chin on your shoulder. Jenni took the phone out of your hand the minute you'd hung up, looking around before lightly pressing a kiss to your neck. Your head dropped back, giving her more access.

"No, no, not here," Jenni scolded lightly, as if she hadn't just initiated the contact.

"We have much to celebrate, hmm?" Alexia murmured. Both of them were close enough to you that it bordered on the edge of too friendly.

"Come back to ours? We can make sure you get a proper reward for those goals," Jenni's words were hot against your ear.

"I had an idea," you mentioned casually. You were normally content to let Alexia and Jenni do what they wanted to you, so they perked up at this. "You know how Misa and I..." you trailed off.

Both of them nodded. If there was any hint of jealousy on their faces, you couldn't detect it. They knew Misa from the national team, were friends with her, and they knew you two had an arrangement, not dissimilar to the one you had with the couple.

"It was a rough game for her," you started.

"Partly because of you," Alexia smirked.

"It was a rough game for her," you said, continuing as if you hadn't been interrupted. "I was thinking we could help her out. In the way you guys have been helping me out?"

They exchanged a long look, seemingly communicating without words, as they often did.

"What do you mean, help her out?" Jenni asked, pretending she didn't know very well what you meant.

You rolled your eyes, and Alexia pinched your arm lightly in warning. "She's frustrated. The two of you are... very good at getting rid of my frustration."

"So you want to bring her back with us, and have us fuck her? Watching doesn't seem like much of a reward," the blonde said bluntly.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find something to do." You smiled.

"Will she be interested?" Jenni questioned, and you felt your stomach leap with excitement, taking her question as an agreement.

"Who wouldn't be?" You said, running a hand up and down Jenni's side.

She chuckled at you. "Alright, if that's what you want your reward to be. You're in charge of getting her there, though."

You looked to Alexia, who you knew held the real final say. She nodded. "If that's what you want, bonita."

You all returned to the locker room, as you began to figure out how, exactly, you were going to get Misa on board with this. She was stubborn, and probably in a horrible mood. You knew it would be good for her, Alexia and Jenni providing her with the release they'd given you so many times. Misa had always been a little weak when it came to doing what you wanted though, so you're sure you can find a way.

-----

You waited outside the visitors exit, near the bus that would take the Real players back to their hotel. Players streamed past you, and you felt their glares, but ignored them. You were much to preoccupied thinking about what was to come, not really caring, even a little, about the opposing team.

Misa stormed out of the locker room, alone, after you'd been waiting for only a couple minutes, the winter air barely chilly enough for you to be shivering slightly in your sweatshirt. You saw her before she saw you, and you grabbed her wrist. She turned with a scowl on her face, which didn't really lessen when she realized who had grabbed her. She let you pull her back into the building, though, until you were standing out of the way, somewhat obscured from view.

"Hi," you said, trying to get a read on just how upset she was.

"Hi." She replied flatly. You decided to just jump into it.

"Come back with me?" You asked, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. She nodded slowly, a contemplative look across her sharp features. "To Alexia and Jenni's?" You finished, watching as her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"What?"

"You seem upset," she scoffed at the obviousness of your statement. "You know I get upset to,"

It wasn't a secret, you could be hot headed just like Misa could, although you'd gotten better over the past few months. The reason it had gotten better, though, was because Alexia and Jenni had grown tired of your moodiness after you didn't play perfectly. You'd snapped at Jenni in the locker room one day, when she'd only been trying to make you feel better. Her and Alexia had brought you into an empty conference room, going back and forth as they told you that your behavior was bratty and not acceptable.

To this day, you didn't remember who made the first move, but suddenly, Jenni's lips were insistent on yours. When she broke the kiss, you'd looked, terrified at Alexia, who squashed your fears by pulling you in for an equally searing kiss. They told you to come over that night, and you had.

Since then, whenever the girls had noticed that you were a bit too frustrated, they'd instruct you to come back to their apartment, and they'd push every thought from your head.

"Alexia and Jenni have been helping me. I want them to help you to." You tell the keeper, and you know you don't imagine the spark of interest in her eyes.

"Help you how?" She asks, echoing Jenni's earlier question. Just like Jenni, she knew the answer, but she wasn't teasing you. She was trying to figure out if she was possibly right.

"How do you think?"

"I'm not sure," Misa said. She looked uncertain, and you knew she was conflicted on whether or not this was a good idea. You knew Misa; pushing her too hard would only result in her pulling away. Instead, you did what you knew would work. Getting her intrigued, and leaving.

"You know where I park, no? I'm leaving in probably 20 minutes for their place. If you want to come, you can. Otherwise, we'll just have fun without you." You turn without another word, heading back to the home side of the stadium, not a doubt in your mind that Misa would follow.

-----

Sure enough, when you exited the stadium a bit later, you spotted Misa leaned up against your car. You bit back a smile, heading towards her.

"Knew you'd come." You teased. Misa shook her head at you, before pulling you tightly against her, ghosting a kiss over your lips, before pulling away, smirking when you tried to chase the kiss.

"Do not tease. It doesn't work for you." She said seriously. You laughed, unbothered by the threatening undertone. Misa was dominant, for sure, more so when she was in such a bad mood. She would be no match for Jenni and Alexia, though, that you were sure of. You let her have her fun, thinking she was in charge of the situation, knowing things would change quickly once you arrived at your destination.

You drove, Misa's hand possessively removing your hand from the center console, and lacing it with her larger one. The older couple didn't live far from the stadium, so you arrived rather quickly, pulling into the familiar parking lot.

You were excited to say the least, and you unbuckled, moving to climb out of the car as soon as it was off. Misa didn't move, though.

"You okay?" You asked, getting her attention.

"What if they don't want me here?" She questioned. Her face was hard, defensive, but you knew that underneath, she was hurting after the day she'd had, and probably couldn't stand the idea of being rejected.

"They do. Trust me." You spoke with so much confidence, that Misa nodded once, climbing out of the car.

She kept her hands on you all the way up to their floor, and as you knocked on the front door. She was tense, but you knew it wouldn't last very long.

Jenni answered, oozing confidence as she leaned against the door frame. She was only in a sports bra and shorts, rippling muscles on display. Her hair was damp, and loose around her shoulders. A cool smile adorned her face, eyes moving back and forth between you and the taller girl behind you.

"I didn't think you'd get her here." Jenni said to you. "Come in, Alexia's waiting for you both."

You took Misa's hand in yours, pulling her in the apartment behind you. You'd barely made it a step past Jenni before she was moving in between you and Misa, shutting the front door with a soft slam.

"Go to Alexia," Jenni said over her shoulder, eyes fixed on the brunette in front of her, and you obeyed, squeezing Misa's hand before dropping it and walking down the hall to where you knew your captain would be.

Jenni moved in, keeping her movements slow and cautious, until her body was pressed up against Misa's rather stiff one, one hand carefully cupping the goalkeeper's jaw.

"You're tense." The striker commented.

"You just put 7 past me." Misa scowled back.

"You need to relax for us," Jenni insisted, leaning in closer until Misa could feel the other woman's breath on her lips. Misa's eyes flicked down, and then back up to Jenni's eyes, before she leaned in. Misa had every intention to take control of the kiss; that was what she was expecting. To take her frustration out on you in the way she normally did, in the way you thoroughly enjoyed, while Alexia and Jenni watched, or perhaps helped.

Instead, Jenni's hand gripped the back of her neck tightly, pushing her lips against the other woman's hard. Misa suprised even herself when she melted into the kiss after a minute, allowing Jenni to grip Misa's face tightly in her hands, tongue pushing into her mouth.

Jenni smirked against the other woman's mouth, realizing that Misa had given up control, even if it was only a bit, even if it was only for a minute.

Jenni walked Misa back into the bedroom, breaking the kiss with a huff when they made it through the door. Alexia had you straddling her, sitting on the edge of the bed, lips working steadily against your mouth. Alexia was dressed similarly to Jenni, and Misa had to pry her eyes away from the blonde's arms, holding you tightly against her. The two of you also broke apart at the sound of the other woman's entrance.

You looked blissed out already, lips slightly swollen, eyes bright as you turned to Misa. She moved forward without another thought, intending to pull you off of Alexia and into her own arms.

Jenni caught her, though, wrapping both arms around Misa's muscled stomach. "No, no. That's not how this is going to go." Misa let out a noise of frustration that turned into a small exhale of air when Jenni's lips found her ear, nibbling on it lightly.

"I want-" Misa started, eyes still on you, watching as Alexia's hands moved up to your chest, kneading you gently through your shirt. The blonde kept her eyes on Misa as she did so, an almost teasing look in her eyes.

"I'm more concerned with what you need." Jenni murmured. "You're gonna be good for us, do what we tell you. And if you are, you can have her any way you want. After we've had our turns." She continued, nodding in your direction. Misa still looked unsure, and Jenni wasn't really sure how far to push her. So she looked to you, and you got the unspoken instructions. You climbed off Alexia's lap, ignoring the grunt of frustration that left her mouth, and moved to stand in front of Misa.

She settled slightly, leaning just a bit back into Jenni's body. The striker began to moved her hands, teasing over Misa's lower stomach.

You looked up at Misa's dark eyes, taking in the combination of her furrowed brows, and the unmistakable flush in her cheeks. You knew she wanted this by the way she leaned into Jenni's touch, almost begging for someone else to take charge, even if she wouldn't ever actually admit it.

"Come on, Misa. Just let go." You pressed your lips to her pulse point, before pulling back. "It'll feel so good, baby. Just trust us."

She looked between you and Alexia, who was watching her from the bed, an intrigued look on her face, and finally turning to look at Jenni. Both of the other woman obviously wanted her. And then there was you. You'd asked her to trust you, and she did.

"Okay." She said finally, feeling a flutter in her stomach at the smirk that tugged at Jenni's lips.

Wordlessly, Jenni nudged her toward Alexia. Misa moved as she was directed, standing in between Alexia's legs, feeling the Catalan woman wrap her arms tight around Misa's muscular body. Jenni turned to you, whispering instructions into your ear as she began to slowly, slowly, strip you of your clothes.

"Hey." Alexia said in her friends ear, the close contact between the two not feeling weird, somehow.

"Hey." Misa replied, her voice slightly shaky.

"You want this?" Alexia checked. "We won't go easy on you."

"If she can take it, I can." Misa scoffed. She prided herself on being strong, willful. She could take what they gave her, she was sure.

"Hmm. She can take more than she looks like she can." Alexia said, watching as her girlfriend pulling your shorts down your legs. "You're overdressed."

"You should do something about it then." Misa replied. Alexia was so close to her, hands rubbing soft circles on her back, it was impossible to deny the arousal that was filling her body.

"I will when I feel like it. First, you're going to watch." Alexia ordered, pulling Misa to lay between her legs on the bed, back to the blonde woman's front. They were facing you and Jenni, who had begun to bend you over the end of the bed, hands gripping your ass tightly.

Misa shuddered at the sight of your completely naked form, attempting to cross her legs, and relieve some of the pressure growing in her core. Alexia hooked her legs around Misa's spreading them back out. Her hands held tight to the other girl's wrists, leaving her completely unable to do anything but watch.

It was going to be a long night for her, she could tell.

-----

a quick setup chapter before we get to the more fun stuff :)

also... ps. me?? making an actual graphic for something i wrote instead of using one [1] picture i found on pinterest? unheard of.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso x misa rodríguez x reader #alexia putellas x reader #jenni hermoso x reader #misa rodriguez x reader

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runningfrom2am · 4 months

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leveling the playing field XVI

summary: you can finally go home.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do.). implications and mentions of abuse and some non-graphic violence, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation.

a/n: i can't believe this is it :') the final part (excluding the epilogue which is coming v soon). thank you all so so so much for all the love on this fic! it means so much to me that you guys enjoyed it! but don't get too sad (like me) bc i am not ready to let them go so i'll probably do like blurbs and stuff ab this series so stick around for those!

series masterlist // playlist

"Y/N/N. Do you have your clothes from home?" Coryo asks, pulling the boat back up onto the shore. The guns were gone. He's free to go home if he wants.

"Yes." You nod. "I couldn't get rid of them if I wanted." You chuckle, looking up into the woods behind the cabin, hoping Sejanus is long gone by now.

"Okay. You're gonna stay here, just for a few days, and then I'll come get you before the train leaves. I'll take you to Two with me, just wear those. You'll fit in better."

"Okay..." You nod, nervous about being out here all alone for so long.

"I'll come bring you food as much as I can." He knew it would be a long hike each way to come see you, but he would have to carve out the time. He looks up at you quickly from digging through his own bag when he hears you sniffle. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I- uhm..." You clear your throat, fanning your eyes to keep any tears from falling. "I'm just scared." You try and laugh it off, shaking your head slightly.

"Don't be scared." Coryo shakes his head, dropping the bag to grab your shoulders. "Hey, you're gonna be okay, Darling, but we don't have another choice. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"I know, I know that..." You sniff, looking up at him. "Is she dead?"

"Yes." He answers quickly. "I buried her. She can't hurt you." He promises. Was that true? No, definitely not. There was no trace of her after the shot besides her earring on the ground, but he had hit her. He was sure of it. There was no reason to tell you that, though, just to scare you more. You couldn't go back to town, there was nowhere for you to hide while peacekeepers searched every inch of the populated part of the District for days while he waited for his train.

"Okay." You whisper, taking a deep, shakey breath as you look around at the suddenly scary forested area around you. The rain had started to clear up, which helped with the sun peeking through the clouds to brighten up the lake. If Lucy Gray hadn't ruined everything, you would probably be getting ready to keep moving.

"Just, try to relax out here. Okay? Go for a swim, just enjoy the fresh air." He smiles softly, brushing some hair back out of your face as he tries to make you feel better.

"I've had enough of the woods for the rest of my life." You scoff, shaking your head under his hold.

"I know, Y/N/N, I'm sorry. It's only a few days. Like I said, I'll come back for you whenever I'm free." Even if he could only stay for five minutes before he had to turn around and make the trip back to town, he would do it. "Then we'll figure everything out. I'll handle it."

"I... I just want to go home, but I can't." You cry, letting him wipe your tears as your chest flushes with the emotion.

Coryo winces at your tears. He hates seeing you cry, and he has seen it far more times than he would have liked to in the last few months. "I'm going to figure it out. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise." He says softly, trying to get you to look at him.

You lean into his palm, closing your eyes as you try desperately to pull it together. You were exhausted, but this was the last thing Coryo needed right now. "I'm sorry. I'm just having a moment."

"I know. You're okay." He chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead and pulling you into a hug, rocking your body gently back and forth. "You know, I think the last time you said that to me was the day I realized I was in love with you." He hums, squeezing your shoulders gently.

You laugh, which makes him smile. It's what he wanted. "I feel like that's a bit dramatic."

"No, it's true." He grins, craning his neck to look down at you. "You defended me, and you listened to me, and you looked just so pretty doing it..."

You bury your face in his shirt to hide your blush.

"You're always on my team, and I appreciate that. I really do." He explains, satisfied that he's made you feel at least a little better. "I hope you know I'm always on your side, too."

You nod slightly, smiling through your tears as you look up at him. "I know."

"Good." Coryo whispers, kissing your nose. "I love you."

"Really?" You whisper, eyes lighting up as you wring your hands together against his chest in front of you. "You're not just saying that because I'm crying on you?" You laugh slightly.

"No, I do." He nods in confirmation, grinning down at you in admiration. "There's no one else in this world I can trust as much as I can trust you."

"Then why'd you give her your scarf?" You ask, tilting your head. "It looked... valuable."

"It was. It belonged to my mother..." He says solemnly. He suddenly shakes his head, mocking your expression as he changes the tone. "You really were dead to the world, huh? I was holding it, and she just asked if she could see it. Then she didn't give it back." Coryo explains, raising an eyebrow at you. "Why, are you jealous of the dead girl?"

You roll your eyes with a smile on your face, attempting to shove him away.

"Hey, I'm kidding." He laughs, pulling you close again by your wrists. "Don't you trust me?"

"Okay, yes, I trust you." You giggle as he drops your wrists, sliding his hands over your waist.

"And you love me?" Coryo asks, urging you on.

"And I love you." You grin, nodding slightly.

"That's my girl..." He hums, running a hand lower down your side, thumb running over your midsection as he leans in to kiss you. He had you right where he wanted you, he'd wanted to say that for ages. Only since he even clued into the fact that the buzz he gets under his skin when he catches you smiling, anyway. Realistically, you were something he had always wanted. Picturing his future over the last few years when he was dragging himself out of bed every morning desperate to arrive to class on time even on an empty stomach, his daydreams of his success always included your own, as well.

Now, it was only the two of you. He was so right about you, you were perfect in every way. Smart, obedient to him and only to him, but you fought for what you wanted. You knew struggle, pressure, and soul crushing expectations in the same way he did. Through all of it, you were there for him. You were beautiful- and he was the only one smart enough to see past your occasional outbursts. No one knew how to navigate you like he did, and he was lucky that few people ever bothered to try.

The most beautiful girl in all of the Capitol, and you were his. He meant it when he said that he would never let anyone hurt you. He couldn't let anyone take you from him.

"Do you know where we're going? Where Tigris and your Grandma'am are living?" You whisper, curled up next to Coryo on the train as it pulls into the Capitol station. You're holding the orange silk scarf in your hands, using it as a small blanket in the cold train car. You had spent most of your time out by the lake trying to clean it- but dirt was a stubborn stain. You'd have to be more thorough once you had access to cleaning supplies again. You couldn't let such a lovely piece of clothing go to waste, especially when it was so valuable to him.

"I don't..." Coryo mumbles in response, staring out the window as you lean your head against his shoulder, knees tucked up to your chest. "They shouldn't be hard to find, though."

The wheels screech to a slow stop in the familiar city, and you can't help but smile at the endless sea of grey architecture. It wasn't anything like the forest in Twelve, and you loved it. The door slides open and some peacekeepers enter, drawing both of your attention as you sit up away from him.

"Dr. Gaul is expecting you both in her lab immediately." One of them informs you, and you nod a little bit, looking nervously over at your boyfriend.

You hung off his arm for the entire car ride and all the way to the lab as you're escorted by the men in the matching uniform to his own. Your clothes were dirty, despite how many times you cleaned them back in District Twelve. You had cleaned them obsessively throughout the last couple of months, but the water was never quite clear enough to be helpful. It was vile. Surely you smell unpleasant due to this, and you were hoping you would have a shower before confronting anyone from your previous life, but clearly, you weren't so lucky.

"Do I stink?" You whisper, trying to avoid the echo of the large room as your heels click across the linoleum flooring.

"Not any more than I do." Coryo answers, a small smile pulling on his lips as he glances down at you.

You giggle, gently slapping his chest as he removes his hat.

"Congratulations, Mister Snow, Miss Y/L/N. You've passed all my tests." You look up at Dr. Gaul for the first time as she speaks to you, tossing something into a pool on her floor. "I've asked President Ravenstill to grant you both a full pardon, effective immediately."

You don't say anything as you both stop in front of the tank in the ground, staring into it as Coryo revels in the shock. "I also told him that you are too promising to be wasted in the Districts. So you will be studying under me at the Capitol University."

While she speaks, you pull Tigris's coat tighter around yourself at the slimy, vicious look of whatever creatures are splashing around inside that tank that she is continuously feeding.

"We can't afford university." Coryo answers on your behalf, forcing you to look up at the woman across from you. While you were incredibly grateful, you were scared. Things were complicated back at your parents' home, and even with a legal form of forgiveness, it's not likely your father will see it the same way. You couldn't go back, and he wasn't likely to give you a dime or let you go free. Within the week, you'd probably die from an "unknown illness" contracted in the Districts if he found out you were home.

"A certain Mister Strabo Plinth has offered to pay for everything you need while you're there. All for being such good friends to his Sejanus." Dr. Gaul explains and your heart drops in your chest. You can't help but wonder if he's even still alive out there, in the North. "He doesn't know quite how good a friend you were, of course. I never mentioned your little recording. Quite impressive, Mister Snow, how you sent your only friend to the grave just to get my attention."

"That's not what I did." Coryo shakes his head at the allegation.

He squeezes your arm in warning, knowing this topic was a fine line to walk. "Are you sure? Because I think that won you the Plinth Prize, after all."

"Sejanus Plinth is not dead." You blurt out without thinking. She tilts her head at you, looking at you intensely, a knowing smile growing on her lips.

"Oh?" She asks, and internally you struggle for a saving grace while Coryo furrows his brow at you. You hadn't seen Sejanus since you sent him away, but you did try looking for him in your days out there alone. You had to believe he was alive, after you gave him his way out.

"Well, I heard that he had escaped in Twelve. As far as I know, they never found a body. He planned on running off anyway. That's likely what he did." You explain, clearing your throat.

"I agree. That is likely, but the odds he would survive out there..." She shakes her head slightly, dropping another treat into the tank as the creatures snap at it. "Anyway, the president has agreed to another year of the games! People watched, and I have you kids to thank for that."

You and Coryo wear matching grins now, posture perfect to match your collective pride.

"But before I take you under my wing, after everything you've seen out there in the real world, let me ask you one final time." Dr. Gaul says, looking pointedly between the two of you. "What are the Hunger Games for?"

You look up at your boyfriend, nodding for him to answer. "I used to think that the Hunger Games were a punishment for the districts. Then, I thought they served as a warning to us here in the capitol, about the threat the districts posed. Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need the Hunger Games every year to remind us all who we truly are."

"And who are you, do you determine?" Coryo looks down at you as she speaks.

"We are the Victors." You finish with a proud smile, looking at the woman across from you who seems more than pleased with your answer.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing back so soon?" Your mom greets him as she opens the door of your childhood home, smiling sadly, confused as to the condition of his return.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am." He smiles politely, grey uniform cap now clutched to his chest. "I proved to be exceptional in my training. Dr. Gaul saw it was better Y/N and I work under her at the University."

"Y/N?" Your mom gasps, reaching up to cover her mouth with her hand. "She's alive?"

"I assure you, she is safe." Coriolanus nods. "Now, may I speak with your husband? I won't take up much of his time." He brushes past her, entering the home without waiting for permission.

"Well, dear, where is she?" Your mom asks, letting him pass and closing the door quickly. "Why hasn't she come home?"

"I think you know why she hasn't come here." He hums, looking around. "Where is he?"

"His study." Your mom answers quietly, gesturing up the stairs. "I'll walk you."

"No need. I know where I'm going." He gives her a small smile in return, following the familiar path toward your room.

He stops in front of your father's study, knocking before taking a step back. The force of habit leads him to stand at attention while he waits for permission to enter.

"I'm busy, don't bother me." Your father's voice echoes through the ornate lining on the door. Then he realizes, he doesn't need permission. Not anymore.

Coriolanus huffs, opening the door and stepping in.

"I said-" Your father growls, slamming his pen down on the desk before he looks up and takes in the grey of Coriolanus's decorated peacekeeper uniform. "Coriolanus."

"Sir." He nods in response, closing the door quietly behind himself. "May I sit?" He asks coldly, gesturing to the chair across from him.

"Please." Your father nods, brow furrowed as to what the blonde boy could possibly want, or what he is doing back so soon.

"Y/N isn't here, son." Your father sighs. "She-"

"I know that." Coriolanus interrupts, placing his hat on the desk between them.

"You know where she is." Your father's tone is unsurprised, but questioning.

"I do." He confirms, back straight in the chair. He had always been afraid of your father, but this was built on an admiration. He reminded him of what little he remembered about his own father. This morphed into anger slowly but surely over the last few years, picking up several hints either in your appearance, demeanor, or choice of words which painted an incredibly unflattering picture of who the man sitting in front of him truly was.

Your dad hums in response, eyes locked on the boy. "How was your summer?"

The question catches Coryo off guard, but he puts all his focus into maintaining his poise. He has the upper hand, here, and he has to keep reminding himself of that. "It was good. Certainly an eye-opening experience, the people out there are very... different."

"Then what brought you back so soon?" His neglect to even ask where you were, if you were okay, if you were even alive makes Coryo's blood boil in his veins.

"Dr. Gaul." Coriolanus states, swallowing before he continues. "She granted your daughter and I a full pardon in exchange for taking an internship under her at the university. After all, that is her dream, is it not?"

Your father's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of your name. "It was." He agrees.

"Is." Coriolanus corrects him, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "Strabo Plinth has offered to pay our way."

"Of course he has." Your dad chuckles, but not an ounce of humour reaches his eyes. "Self righteous bastard..."

"Seeing as you don't care about her as much as you care about your own reputation, he saw it would be a way to repay her for her loyal friendship to his son. She saved his life twice, after all." Coryo ignores your father's comment, watching as the gears turn in his head, trying to remember the second time.

"I know you think you understand my daughter, Coriolanus, but there are some parts of her you will never know. Not truly." Your father responds coolly. "So, I'm not sure what she has told you, but-"

"But nothing." Coryo cuts him off, leaning back in his seat. "Here is what is going to happen. You will have nothing to do with her, her life, her mistakes, or her decisions any longer. Since, in your own words, you see her as such a burden, I am willing to free you of that."

Your dad grits his teeth together, and it's his turn to lean forward. "Coriolanus Snow, you will not speak to me that way in my own home. Y/N is my daughter, and I shall be involved as I please and I shall do with her what I deem appropriate to consequent her actions."

"No." Coryo replies sternly, standing up abruptly, unabashed by the sound of the chair scraping across the wooden floor as he slams his fist on the desk. "She is eighteen. I take responsibility for her now, and unless you want to lose everything you and Highbottom have built, you will cut me in on every dime you make. Do you understand?"

Your dad laughs again. "And who will believe you, Coryo? You're just kids. You don't know what you're talking about. Whatever she told you is untrue. Simple as that."

"Would you like a list?" Coryo threatens. "Is that a risk you're willing to take, Y/D/N?"

He sighs, standing up to look eye to eye with him, clearly seething with the disrespectful use of his first name. "She's more trouble for you than it's worth, Son."

"That is my decision to make." Coryo says through gritted teeth.

"Suit yourself." Your dad raises his hands in defeat, careful to not show any fear. Coriolanus could see through it, though. He's won, and he knows it; it was a great deal, if your father was smart enough to see it that way. "How much do you want? Money is nothing to me."

"More than Highbottom gets." Coriolanus requests plainly, grabbing his hat and placing it back over his head. "And you'll pay for our wedding." He adds casually, pushing the discarded chair back into its place. "You'll pay for as many dresses and parties as she wants, every drink, every slice of cake, and every last flower she wishes for exactly how she wishes for it. No compromises, and no surprise appearances from you. Are. We. Clear?" He speaks clearly, intentionally enunciating every word with a trace of venom.

"Crystal." Your father scoffs, taking a drink from the whiskey glass on his desk.

Coriolanus nods, giving him a small smile. "Good. I'll be expecting the money orders every other week." He grins smugly, giving your father a quick bow before heading for the door, stopping as his hand brushes over the handle. "All due respect, Sir, which I deem to be very little, but what you have done to your daughter over all these years is what has made her into the woman you hate. Don't think I was the only one who noticed, and you would deserve every bit of harm we could do to your name. If you ever so much as speak to her again, I will kill you myself."

Coryo glances back at your father's expression only briefly before leaving. He couldn't resist the satisfying look of loathing and anger on the man's face.

The small smile sticks as he walks down the stairs, hearing the crystal glass shatter as it's thrown against the door behind him.

Finally, you were totally even.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey , @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

taglist is closed for coryo unfortunately, but my requests for him are open!! so send me all your suggestions!! requests here!!

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #president snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coriolanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg fanfiction #thg series #thg

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natsglorifiedsimp · 7 months

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Grew up and fade away

- here's the last request of all time :)) I'll miss writing fics ig but the good news is I'll probably just delete the app so you guys can still enjoy my fics!! It's been a great year and a half with this app :3

"She's never gonna understand, Nat" Wanda spoke in a hushed tone.

A furrowed eyebrow and worried looks have been shared all night. Never in a million years, had they thought this could happen. You are so precious and sweet.

"Mama?"

They immediately put a smile on their faces. Trying to get rid of the frown and act like everything is fine.

"Yes, honey?" Wanda answered.

"Where are we going?" you questioned. "And why do I need to bring Mrs. Widow?" you were referring to the plushie they gave you on your 5th birthday.

Wanda looked at Natasha sending a signal to help her out because she couldn't act normal and tears were starting to build up in her eyes.

"Well, honey." Nat pondered. "Your mama and I thought we could hang out with Mrs. Widow today" she lied.

"But I only bring Mrs. Widow when you and Mama are not around" you pouted. "Are you gonna go on another trip?" you asked. Usually, they'd bring Mrs. Widow with you to Tony's to look out for you when they were on their mission.

"Oh no baby" Wanda butted in. "We're just gonna have a little get-together" she bitterly smiled. "Like a tea party"

"Okay!!" you giggled.

Oh, how innocent you were, Natasha thought. How could they leave someone like you?

On the way to your destination, you recognize the streets. You know where the car was going. And you prayed you guys were just gonna pass there.

As the car stopped your heart dropped. "Mommy? Why are we here?" Natasha looked at you and just smiled. You got out of the car confused about what was going on. You can hear Wanda's silent cry and you can get rid of the pounding in your chest.

"I don't wanna go in there" you murmured seeking comfort from your mommy by holding your arms up to get carried.

Your parents greeted the people there until they got into an office. You guys sat in silence and your grip on your mom grew stronger. You didn't want to let go.

"Mrs. and Mrs. Romanoff?" a lady with formal attire asked. Your parents simply nodded.

"She's ready for her" she ushered.

For her? Does she mean me? you thought.

When Natasha carried you to another room a person was waiting. She had the same hair as you, the same eyes, and the same nose.

"Is that my daughter?" the lady asked.

Your grip tightens more than ever. Natasha was trying to pry off your arms so the lady could have a look at you. But the more she tried the more you clung to her.

"It's okay, honey" Wanda assured.

"No!" you bite.

"It's okay, someone just wants to meet you" Wanda assured again but you weren't dumb you know where this is going.

"No, mama!" you insisted.

Natasha desperately pried you off her until your grip grew weak. She passed you to the lady like a piece of toy. You trashed around not caring who you hit.

"It's okay I'm your real mother," the lady said but you didn't care.

"NO!" you shouted. "Mama help!" you desperately cried.

Wanda cried seeing you like this. They never knew a day could come that you were gonna leave their side. Getting you from foster care when you were only 7 months old brought them joy and now that you're seven the real mother wants to take you back.

"Mama!!!! Mommy!!!!" you sobbed. They never moved and never tried to interfere. It was getting on your nerves. "MAMA!!!!"

They hadn't heard you cry like this in a while. Your cry shattered their hearts into pieces.

"Maybe it's better if you guys head out" the lady with a formal attire said.

"NO!" you insisted. "Mommy don't leave me" you wailed.

Oh, how Wanda wanted to take you and run miles from here. How desperate she was to not bring you back here. But still, they slowly went out the door.

"MAMA!!!" you wailed again trying to pry your hands out of the random lady who claims to be your mother.

"I don't want to be here!" you shouted.

"Mama, Mommy please don't leave me" you sobbed.

But all they did was smile.

P.s i dont really know how foster care works😭 bare with me for the sake of angst

#natasha marvel #natasha romonova #black widow #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha alianovna romanova #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x wanda #mama nat #wanda marvel #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff #wandanat #Wanda x daughter

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 9 months

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Resident Evil Village characters with a chubby fem s/o

Dating Headcanons (+ Some bonus drabbles for a few)

Including Alcina Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Donna Beneviento, Salvatore Moreau and Mother Miranda

(Reader is somewhat coquette? Princesscore? Just the dainty feminine type)

Credits to dividers used are on this post.

Rules for requests

If you don't want to send requests through Tumblr, my Instagram is always an option.

Please interact with this post as much as possible, it helps a lot. Thank you <3

A/n: Hi lovelies, Lia here. I'm back after a long time. I hope you enjoy this post and I'll be setting up my schedule soon, I'll be posting once or twice every 1-2 week/s. If you can't tell, purple has always been my theme. I'll add more to these and edit it if I think of more to add. Any mistakes will be corrected upon checking.

This is just me but I love the concept of like a girl who is so sweet and her style just looks so fem and she's just surrounded by all the creepy things that are resident evil.

I'll be checking and if this post does well I will write more.

Warnings/Disclaimers: English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Blood, gore?, violence, typical resident evil stuff and mentions of insecurity. Slight suggestive content if you squint.

Alcina Dimitrescu

First of all despite your plush stature, she still treats you like a porcelain doll.

She just adores you so much (I mean she herself is tall and plus size).

Motherly nature and all, she has three daughters and honestly if she ever sees you interact with them. It would just warm her cadou infested heart.

Insecure about stretch marks? She'll kiss that shit away right then and there. She'll even show you hers because let's be honest here stretch marks are beautiful, you just don't like them on yourself.

Anyone insults or talks shit about you? She'll get rid of them, in any way possible depending on what they said. She'll pick a suitable punishment for them, ranges from "you're fired" to "I'm going to skin you alive and tear your heart out".

Alcina is a confident and dominant figure, she isn't swayed by something so small as beauty standards. Especially in herself, therefore I think she'd even help you build your confidence up.

Gifts galore with this woman, she love to spoil you with her riches. Loves to see you adorned with luxurious items that she give you.

Love dressing up with you, seeing you all dolled up for her. Has custom made clothes for you, sometimes opts for an outfit that matches or contrasts yours perfectly.

Knows what compliments your features best since she loves to bring them out.

Her hosting soirees and balls with you as her special guest, having you wear elegant dresses that she bought for you.

I see her as this almost touchy type. She'll love having you curl up on her lap while she gets paperwork done.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

You called Alcina's attention wanting to see her reaction to the new dress you bought, Alcina's eyes lit up at your elegance and charm. She smiled warmly, taking your hand in hers. "You look enchanting, my darling," she purred, proud to have you by her side.

Karl Heisenberg

Stinky metal dilf here actually loves that you're so soft in contrast to his gruff and abrasive nature.

He hasn't had physical affection in a long time so having someone soft and warm to hold is new to him.

Karl is naturally protective over you, especially because he thinks you're fragile. I mean compared to whatever's in the village, the rest of the lords and Mother Miranda.

I bet you this man has tore down someone for you, he chopped them off limb by limb for insulting you.

I can't get enough of the dynamic you'd have. It's like the grumpy x sunshine trope, this man has a sharp tongue. Especially when you hear him insult Lady Dimitrescu.

This man has a soft spot for you, I'm pretty sure you're the only one who can make him take a bath after being all sweaty from working with machinery all day.

I feel like he has scars all of his body, especially his very toned back.

Doesn't mind you leaving scratches when you're in the bedroom

Alcina sometimes tries to piss him off by commenting at the fact that you are soft and dainty while Karl is just the opposite and offers you an opportunity to be with "Someone refined" (She ain't wrong).

It really is just to get to Karl's nerves.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Karl smirked, trying to play it cool, but you could see the admiration in his eyes. "Not bad, princess," he teased, pulling you into a hug. He whispered softly, "You're somethin' special, ya know?"

Donna Beneviento

You know Donna understands what it's like being insecure about looks but to her you're just perfect in every single way.

Donna just doesn't give a shit in a good way, she doesn't judge people based on their appearance. It's dumb and shallow.

Donna would absolutely adore making clothes for you or altering your current ones. It's a skill she's proud of and seeing you appreciate it makes her all the more in love with you.

Angie has made a few comments resulting in her getting kicked off into space but once Donna warms her about that and how you don't like it, she'll stop in respect towards you. Which is rare considering how Angie is.

Donna's personal style definitely helps contrast yours, though it's the opposite from your soft light colors.

Thinks you're so pretty, she's smitten. Even though yours are different from you, she still makes use of her skills to fit your clothing tastes.

I can just imagine her staring at you in awe as you spin around and show her how the dress she made fits you. I like to think she has your measurements memorized from head to toe.

She take one look at something and already know how it would fit on you or if she needs to alter.

You once asked her to make a doll that looks like the both of you (and Angie but like a smaller version that fits the doll's arms).

Donna entered your shared bedroom to find you but noticed something on the shelves. It was the dolls she made sitting against the book. She noticed how you positioned them. Holding hand while the tiny Angie replica was on the doll version of her's lap. Donna swore at that moment she was gonna melt.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Donna's expression softened as she saw you in the vintage lace dress. She held your hand, wordlessly conveying her affection and admiration.

Salvatore Moreau

God so help him, he was flabbergasted when he first heard about your insecurity. Literally why? Like you are just the most beautiful thing that walked the planet in his eyes.

He just worships the ground you walk on, he isn't as wealthy as the other lords but still, he give you his best efforts by carving you small trinkets out of wood.

Gifts you natural things he finds like crystals and whatnot.

Best of efforts when he comforts you. Sometimes he's too scared to physically touch you because he thinks he'll hurt you.

You're relationship is filled mostly by nature, despite the wasteland that surrounds your living area. It's hauntingly beautiful in it's own way. (Some of it I suppose)

Feels more at ease around you, think about how much he wanted to just make Mother Miranda proud of him, he's that with you but 10x more the effort.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Salvatore couldn't contain his delight at seeing you in the dress. "You're my beautiful water nymph princess!" he exclaimed, spinning you around with excitement.

Mother Miranda

You peeked her interest when she first saw you, I mean you're her complete opposite. She finds beauty in dark items and almost gothic stuff, so her taking an interest to you just made her even more curious.

She works a lot so gifts and trinkets to remind you of her are an occasional thing. I can just imagine you taming crows and she's just in awe.

Loyalty of crows means they leave you shiny trinkets and sometimes Miranda takes them for herself when she likes whatever they bring.

Again she's one to think you're fragile because of your style, you just look so cute and soft.

Nobody dares insult you, I mean if you really won the heart of Mother Miranda they are fucked if they even speak a little out of line.

Likes to keep you by her side despite working a lot. So you'd often be by her side during her meetings with the four lords and honestly you are such an eye candy.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Mother Miranda's composure remained regal, but her eyes showed approval. "You look exquisite" she acknowledged, holding your hand with reverence. To her, you were a jewel among mortals, deserving of admiration.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #donna x reader #salvatore moreau #mother miranda #salvatore moreau x reader #mother miranda x reader #donna beneviento x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #re8 x reader #4 lords x reader #Aethelwyne Lia writes

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ckret2 · 4 months

Text

Chapter 31 of human Bill grudgingly enduring being the Pines' prisoner because the Henchmaniacs won't take his call: Summerween night! Everyone gets ridiculous costumes!

The Summerween Trickster's buddies are attempting to resurrect him. Robbie's making a music video. Bill's attempting to woo Ford back into friendship, to terrify Dipper with cursed knowledge, and to recover his dignity from THE most gentle chastising imaginable, and he only succeeds in 1 out of 3 of these endeavors:

It's not this one. He's just gotta process these emotions while wearing that stupid wig.

####

Soos was putting the final touches on his cosplay (the suave and mysterious Masked Guy In A Suit, love interest of the heroine from the classic anime Teenage Planetary Soldier Girls) when he heard the phone ring in the office. "Hold on, I'll get it!" He hurried downstairs, ducked under a construction paper chain Mabel had strung over the door, picked up the phone, and said, "Hello?"

A mysterious voice droned, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

"Oh, no thanks, we don't want any." Soos hung up, sighed happily, and said, "Ah, Summerween. Always brings out the weirdos."

"Hey Soos!" Mabel ducked into the doorway. "Where's the candy bowl?"

"Oh, hey Hambone. It's in my bedroom." He put on a stage whisper. "I put it in there so Bill couldn't steal it."

"Thanks Soos!" She ran upstairs.

Dipper and Bill waited downstairs, the tension thick between them (on Dipper's side, anyway; Bill—watching a black-and-white horror movie, sipping at a can of cider, and brooding over going to voicemail—didn't notice). Dipper was waiting by the door in a folding chair; but he kept glancing toward Bill in the living room. When the silence got too much to bear, he asked, "Okay, what are you dressed as?"

Bill was wearing a brown bedsheet toga (the most historically-accurate part of his costume); a cheap wig of a teased mullet that had ended up mostly red with yellow streaks, forming a plume of hair right over his head and then a long straight tail he'd draped over his shoulder; and a bunch of paper faux-Greek homes taped all around the hem of his toga, forming a ring around his calves.

"And are those my sandals?" Dipper asked.

"Take it up with Mabel, she loaned them on your behalf," Bill said. "I'm not telling my costume. You have to guess it."

"Seriously?" Dipper sighed. It had to be a god, gods towered over their mortals' temples. What god would wear brown? "I don't know—Demeter?"

"What? No. Do I seem like the Demeter type? Pathetic." Bill waved off his guess. As Mabel ran downstairs, Bill said, "Hey, Shooting Star, you haven't made your official guess yet."

Without hesitation, Mabel said, "A time-traveling hair metal singer touring the Roman Empire and trying to find a way home before his hair dye runs out."

"Wrong, but I would love to live in the world you've dreamed up." He meandered into the entryway to join Mabel as she plopped down in the second chair by the door.

Dipper screwed up his face. "Are you helping us answer the door?"

"No, you're helping me answer the door. I'm cursed, remember?" Bill leaned over Mabel's shoulder, dug into the candy bowl, and popped a lollipop in his mouth. "But you're not getting rid of me, if that's what you're asking."

Soos headed to the door, cape billowing dramatically behind him. "Hey dudes. Hey Bill." He paused in the door, studying Bill. "Hey! Is that a Bobo the Uncouth Berserker cosplay?"

Bill blinked. "Who?"

"Bobo the Uncouth Berserker! You've gotta read Bobo. He's this primitive hero descended from lost Lemuria who goes on daring adventures through the lush impenetrable jungles of Central Europe. He's got this comic that was so popular it spawned an anime, which got an American movie adaptation, which formed the basis of a second comic continuity that isn't as critically acclaimed as the original but has drawn in a lot of new fans... and..." Soos petered out. "You're not Bobo, are you."

Bill shook his head. "Thanks for playing."

"Aw." Soos's shoulders slumped. "Anyway—me and Melody are gonna be at the cosplay contest at the theater. I'll keep my phone on in case of monsters."

"We'll be fine!" Mabel said. "Go have fun!"

"You too!" With a dramatic flourish of his cape, Soos disappeared into the night.

Bill watched Soos go enviously. He could have been given a human body that looked that good in a suit and top hat, but was he? No. It wasn't fair. And Soos didn't even wear the right hat size.

Dipper glanced sideways at Bill. "Hey. Is... Lemuria real?"

"Not anymore." Bill perked up as Stan passed by, dressed like Frankenstein's monster. "Hey, Stanley! You haven't guessed yet. What am I?"

Stan surveyed him. "White columned buildings, Statue of Liberty dress, and a red clown wig. I dunno, the American government?"

Bill squawked in laughter. "That's my favorite wrong answer so far. I like you, Stanley." He fished a chocolate bar out of the bowl and held it out.

Stan grunted in disapproval, but accepted the candy. "If any of you need me, I'm gonna be up on the roof, terrifying kids." He held up a boombox and a cassette that said "Spooky Sound Effects of Halloween". "If you hear screaming children, don't worry: that means I'm winning."

"Where's your brother?" Bill asked.

"Avoiding you." Stan passed through the living room and left.

Bill's shoulders slumped; but he just dug into the candy bowl for more chocolate. Then the first trick-or-treater knocked on the door, and Dipper jumped up in relief to answer it.

The shack didn't attract quite as many trick-or-treaters as the houses closer to the center of town, but they got a steady stream of children, and more than they'd gotten the year before. Between visitors, Bill dug into their candy stock, gleefully ignoring Dipper's complaints. After the fourth or fifth visitor, Dipper and Mabel realized that Bill was covering up the amount of candy he'd pilfered by meticulously re-folding the empty wrappers and putting them back in the bowl.

"It's fair play," Bill said. He untwisted one end of a Twisty Roll tube, squeezed out the candy, blew into the wrapper to re-inflate it, and twisted the end shut again. "The kids are trick-or-treating, right? Sometimes they get treats and sometimes they get tricks."

"Come on, seriously?" Dipper said. "Even for you this is low. You're literally taking candy from babies."

"The babies are trying to take candy from us. I have no sympathy." With the precision of an origami master, Bill refolded a paper fruit chew wrapper into a box and dropped it back into the bowl.

"They're supposed to take candy from us, that's how the holiday works." Dipper looked at Mabel for support.

But she was holding up an empty 3 Fencers wrapper and squeezing it lightly between her fingers. "Wow. How did you make the wrapper puffy again? It's so convincing."

Bill shot Dipper a nasty smile, then turned to Mabel and said magnanimously, "I'll teach you everything I know." He twirled a glue stick between his fingers.

Another trick-or-treater knocked, and Dipper answered.

"Trick or treat! Please give us the worst candy you have."

Mabel blinked, leaning around Dipper to see who was outside. "Wait, what?"

Outside stood a purple-furred monster with a dozen limbs from a dozen different creatures. He gasped in surprise. "Ohhh, twin costumes! That's so cute! What are you two, haunted dolls?"

Dipper took a surprised step back. "Limby Jimmy?"

The monster was silent a moment, taken aback. He took off a bear mask he'd made out of a paper plate. "Is it that obvious?"

Mabel asked, "Have we...?"

Dipper said, "Oh! Sorry—Mabel, this is Limby Jimmy, I ran into him last year in the Crawlspace under town when I was trying to get your face back—"

Helpfully, Bill threw in, "He's Gravity Falls' most accomplished arms dealer. And legs dealer, and tails dealer, and ears dealer..."

"Limby, this is my sister Mabel. Actually, I don't know if I ever introduced myself—"

Limby Jimmy cut in, "Ohhh, yeah, I remember you! You're Troll Boy, right?"

Dipper winced. "It's—it's Dipper, actually." He paused. "Wow. We meet a lot of weird people."

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy!" Mabel held out a hand. After a moment of thought, Jimmy elected to shake it with a tentacle and a dog's paw.

"What are you doing up here?" Dipper asked. "Is Summerween the one night of the year that Gravity Falls' monsters can walk among humans without fear?"

"Oh no, I'm terrified. I wouldn't be out here if I wasn't collecting donations," Jimmy said.

"Donations?"

Jimmy hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You've been in the Crawlspace, so, you and your sister are cool, but is the lady...?" He wiggled a hoof toward Bill.

Coolly, Bill said, "I'm actually an ancient interdimensional energy being cursed to wear a human form."

Dipper and Mabel flinched in alarm and rounded on Bill, hissing, "Bill!" "Shhh!"

Ignoring them, Bill said, "So, continue."

"Oh," Jimmy said brightly. "That's all right then, yuk yuk." He wiggled his multitude of right arms. "I don't know if you humans have heard yet, but the Summerween Trickster got eaten to death last summer! It's really sad!"

Dipper and Mabel, who had watched as he was eaten to death, stayed quiet.

"But probably happy for him?" Jimmy mused. "Since I think that's what he wanted? But it's sad for the rest of his poker group, we all miss him! So I'm out here with Doug—"

"Who?" Dipper asked, looking around the porch for a second monster.

"Oh, he's back there." Jimmy pointed toward a tree at the edge of the clearing around the Mystery Shack. The tree chittered unnervingly. "We're going around collecting donations to resurrect the Trickster! Or... re-summon him? Or however this works. We never really asked him how he came to exist, it seemed rude."

"Naturally," Bill said. "You can't just ask a freak what made him so freaky. It's a sensitive topic."

"Right! You understand," Jimmy said. "Anyway, we need a lot of crappy candy!" He looked at their bowl. "Which pieces have the kids been ignoring this year?"

Mabel had started bouncing on the balls of her dusty Victorian ghost shoes; and the moment she had a turn to speak, she squealed in excitement. "You're the Summerween Trickster's friend! That's perfect! Stay here, I'll be right back!" She shoved the candy bowl into Bill's arms and zoomed up the stairs. "I've got some stuff for him!"

Bill looked at the bowl, looked at the stairs, shoved the candy in Dipper's arms, and followed Mabel. "Hey, Shooting Star? What are you doing?"

Her voice drifted down the stairs: "Getting a donation! I'll be just a minute!"

"Hold on, you're actually helping that guy?" Bill laughed. "Why?" He climbed high enough to poke his head above the attic floor and lowered his voice so Jimmy couldn't hear. "I wasn't paying that much attention last Summerween, but I got the impression from your little costume store brawl that the Trickster was trying to kill you kids. Am I missing something?"

"I mean, yeah, he was—but he was in a really bad place back then, that doesn't mean he deserves to be dead for it. And now he knows someone out there wants to eat him, so maybe he'll be less insecure and evil." Mabel laughed, "Anyway, the Trickster isn't that bad! He didn't try to kill me half as hard as you did!"

Bill froze a couple of steps from the top of the stairs. He didn't move for a few seconds; and then wordlessly, he slunk back downstairs.

Dipper watched as Bill, face beet red, trudged into the living room. "Hey. What's Mabel...?"

"How should I know." Bill curled up on the couch, picked up the can of cider he'd been drinking earlier, shotgunned it, and glowered at the horror movie on TV.

Dipper considered Bill—all alone in the living room and not doing anything important—and considered Mabel, upstairs; and said, "Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind waiting out here until Mabel gets back."

"Sure! I don't have any plans." Jimmy rocked back on his many heels.

"Cool. Thanks." Dipper shut the door.

He sidled oh so very casually into the living room and leaned against the TV. "Guess it's just the two of us right now."

Bill's gaze didn't waver from the TV. "Terrific counting skills, Troll Boy." He popped open another cider can.

Dipper grit his teeth. Let it go. "Sooo! You're from the second dimension, huh? What's that like?" (His voice cracked embarrassingly on "that.") "Just—just curious. Making friendly conversation. Caaasual conversation." He flashed a pair of finger guns at Bill, to underscore just how casual he was. "Yyyep." Witness the junior paranormal investigator in action.

Bill turned the cold, empty eyes of a killer on Dipper. He took a long, slow sip from his cider. And he asked himself: what can I say that will make this stupid boy regret ever daring to speak to me?

Bill smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Okay," he said. "You wanna know what it's like? Have you ever read the Allegory of the Cave?"

Dipper hesitated. "By... Plato?"

"That one. You know—ignorance is like being a prisoner chained in a cave, watching shadow puppets being cast on a wall, and thinking they're reality; and having knowledge is like being outside the cave in the sunlight, seeing the real shapes that are casting the shadows—"

"I have read it, actually," Dipper said, a tad defensively. "It was for extra credit in—"

"English class, I know."

Dipper frowned; but he soldiered on. "So... living in the second dimension is like being chained in a cave, staring at the shadows on the wall, and thinking that's reality? Bleak."

Bill laughed so loudly that Dipper started. "Wow, you're so dumb! Use your brain, kid: it's the second dimension. You're not the prisoner: you're the shadow on the wall." Bill's lip curled in a sneer, "An illusion in somebody else's allegory. And the only one who can see the cave's exit... is you. That's what the second dimension is like!" He laughed again. It sounded forced.

"Oh," Dipper mumbled. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of being a living metaphor for ignorance. "Sounds... pretty bad?"

"Awful," Bill agreed. "Doesn't hold a candle to what your dimension has going on, though."

"Wh... why, what's going on in the third dimension?"

Bill gave him a malicious smile, and Dipper had the sinking feeling he'd just walked into an obvious trap. "You idiot, you still think you're in the third dimension? Really?"

Was that a trick question? What answer was Bill looking for? What could this be if not the third dimension? "Nnooo?"

"Wow. I can really see why you're a straight-A's honors student," Bill said. "You're so good at figuring out what answer the test wants and regurgitating it—even if you don't actually understand it at all." He heaved himself back to his feet; and Dipper was sure there was something threatening in the movement—something that reminded Dipper that he was talking to a dangerously unstable extinction level event precariously packed into an unsteady human body. "Although copying the year of the Louisiana Purchase off of Brandon's test in fifth grade probably didn't hurt, did it."

Dipper's stomach dropped. The secret shame buried beneath the foundation of his honors roll-worthy record. Pull that out and his entire academic career came toppling down. He'd get kicked out of the honors classes. He'd go to jail. Was cheating against the law? "H... how did—?"

"What year was the Louisiana Purchase?"

Dipper's brain immediately went blank. He was silent, trapped in the paralyzing intensity of Bill's gaze. After several terrifying seconds, he croaked, "1803?" and hoped he was right.

"Attaboy. Too bad you couldn't have learned that a little sooner, isn't it?" As he spoke, Bill had closed in on Dipper until he'd backed him into the corner behind the TV set, filling Dipper's exit route with one hand on the TV and the other on the wall. "But we were talking about dimensions, weren't we! Whaddaya like to read, kid," Bill asked too casually, "do you like cosmic horror? Do you know what real 'cosmic horror' is?"

Dipper regretted this conversation completely.

"It's having an eyeball on the inside of your body, and seeing another dimension through it. And ohoho, I think you'd be amazed at the things I can see from here—"

Dipper got the distinct impression that if he didn't get out of this conversation, he would only hear things he'd be telling his therapist about for months. "Cool! Good talk, man. Hey Mabel?" (That was an absolutely humiliating voice crack.) "How's it going?"

A pause. "I think I need help!"

"Coming!" Dipper ran behind the TV to escape Bill and gratefully bolted upstairs.

The kid had caved so fast. And Bill had only just been getting started. He smirked, sat, and turned back to the movie.

A moment later, Mabel and Dipper came back downstairs, carrying four bulging plastic grocery bags. Mabel set one by her feet, opened the door, and shoved the first bag into Jimmy's arms. "Here! You can give these to the Trickster!" She shoved over the second bag.

Jimmy stumbled back under the weight. "Whoa there! What is this?"

"Candy chalk-hearts! I completely bought out the leftovers after Valentine's Day," Mabel said. "I wanted to make sure that if we met the Trickster again, I could let him know he's loved and appreciated as the terrifying avatar of spooky holiday spirit that he is! And that I also respect that he's made out of gross candy nobody likes to eat." She picked up a chalk-heart box and waved it in Jimmy's face. "So here's a gross candy that expresses love! See, the little hearts say things like 'You smell nice' and 'I heart ur face,' but they taste like if dehydration was a flavor."

Dipper handed his bags to Jimmy. "Wait—Mabel, that's why you got all these? You've been planning to help the Trickster since February? I thought you were gonna build a chalk-heart house or something."

"Oooh, that's such a good idea. I should do that next year!" To Jimmy, she said, "I was gonna give these to him personally, but if he's still dead, I guess you can add it to his candy sacrifice pile or whatever? And make sure he gets this!" She handed Jimmy a store bought Shimmery Twinkleheart Valentine's card. It read, "I BELIEVE in our friendship! Happy Valentine's Day!" Mabel had scratched out "Valentine's" and written "Summerween".

Choked up, Jimmy said, "Oh—wow. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for us all night. I'm sure the Trickster will really appreciate it when he's not dead anymore."

Dipper was a little more vengeful. Dipper didn't want to do anything for one of the many guys that had tried to kill them last year. But, on the other hand, Mabel had just gone all in on this, and Jimmy seemed nice enough, so... Dipper sighed. Whatever, it was Summerween and this was a trick-or-treater. "Hey," he picked up the candy bowl. "There's really only one bag of good candy in here. The bottom of the bowl is filled with after-dinner mints our great uncle's been stealing from restaurants for the last six months. The Trickster would probably love that, right?"

"Aww—thanks so much, you guys! We'll have the poker group back together in no time!" Jimmy dug past the good candy and started scooping mints into his bag. "Oh—since I'm here, can I ask about our other poker buddy? Do either of you know Mr. What's-His-Face? He disappeared around the time you were visiting the Crawlspace, maybe one of you saw something? Any information would be helpful." Jimmy looked at them with weird, plus-shaped, but very hopeful eyes. "Between the Trickster's death and Whatsis disappearing, the local paranormal community's been hit hard. Especially us guys in their friend group. I'm—I'm not gonna lie," Jimmy heaved a sigh, "It's been a really hard year."

Dipper and Mabel, who were directly and personally at fault for Mr. What's-His-Face's disappearance and knew he was frozen in stasis in Ford's bunker at that very moment, exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement.

"Nope, don't know anything," Mabel said.

"Sorry, buddy," Dipper said.

Like the Summerween Trickster, Mr. What's-His-Face was a weird faceless shapeshifty monster that had tried to kill them. But they felt like that was where the similarities ended.

By the time of the Trickster's death, Mabel and Dipper had realized that his deepest inner longing was to be called good enough to eat. Mr. What's-His-Face's deepest inner longing was to steal innocent people's faces. If Mabel and Dipper helped resurrect the Trickster, he'd probably go back to ensuring everyone displayed sufficient holiday spirit, while hopefully mellowing out about eating people now that he'd been consumed once. On the other hand, if Mabel and Dipper helped free Mr. What's-His-Face, he'd probably just keep stealing faces.

And on top of all that, they could help resurrect the Trickster without admitting they knew the guy who ate him. They couldn't really lead Jimmy to Mr. What's-His-Face without admitting their great uncle was keeping him captive. And that would be a problem for the whole family.

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay, that's fine. Thanks for all your help. You know where to reach us if you hear anything."

Mabel shook her head. Dipper nodded. "Yeah, we'll let you know."

Jimmy hopped off the porch, shouted, "Hey Doug, can you help me carry these?" and chucked a couple of bags of chalk-hearts toward the tree line. Dipper and Mabel stared. Nothing emerged to pick the bags up.

They shut the door.

"Man," Dipper said. "We kinda devastated the paranormal poker group last summer, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Mabel sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Wow. Feels... kinda bad."

Dipper offered her the candy bowl. "Drown our feelings in chocolate?"

"Please."

They grabbed a piece of candy each, tore open the wrappers—and frowned. Mabel stomped a foot. "Dang it—Bill!"

"Hm?"

"How many of these wrappers are empty?!"

Bill poked his head out of the living room and said, smugly, "Like candy from a baby!"

####

A knock, and Dipper opened the door. "Wendy! Hey! Good timing—"

"Hey." Wendy lowered her voice. "Quick question—this is super important—is Goldie here?"

"Uh—yeah, why—?"

"Yello?" Bill carefully wove his way out of the living room, already less steady on his feet than when he'd sat down. "I heard my name, who's summoning me?"

Wendy pointed over the twins at Bill and turned to shout into the dark, "Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you! Live and in person... Toga Lady!"

A half dozen teenagers immediately went bananas. Hooting and hollering and cheering and whistling: "To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!"

Bill's entire face lit up. Without missing a beat, he pushed past the baffled twins out onto the porch and spread his arms wide, basking in the cheering. "That's right, keep it coming! Worship me! I'm the greatest!"

"Yes!" Robbie pumped a fist in the air. "The legends were true!" Nate immediately added, "The prophecy! The prophecy!" Tambry snapped photos of Toga Lady's fresh look as fast as her phone could save them, muttering, "Everyone's gonna flip when they find out you're still in town."

Wendy waited, grinning, until her friends' faux hysterics had died down. "Okay—okay, after getting you hyped up, I should probably say that Toga Lady is actually Toga Guy." She glanced questioningly at Bill. "I think?"

"Eh, I'm not picky."

"Anyway this is Goldie, he was stuck in another dimension for thirty years, it's crazy, and now he's like my illegal backup cashier. He actually... doesn't usually wear togas?"

Bill laughed. "If you can't wear a bedsheet on Summerween, when can you?"

Lee said, "Thompson wore a bedsheet to homecoming."

"Hey."

Bill pointed at Thompson. "A man of impeccable fashion! I like it!" Thompson gave him a look of eternal gratitude.

"And Goldie, this is the gang! That's Thompson, he's the guy with the van; Robbie and Tambry, they're like, gender-swapped versions of each other, they even share their hair dye..."

As Wendy did introductions, Mabel whispered to Dipper, "Did you know she was gonna introduce Goldie to everyone?"

"No! This is bad, I told her not to trust him..."

Bill was responding to a question, "No, no, you've gotta guess, I'm making everyone guess!"

The teens considered the question. Robbie offered first, "Punk caveman?"

"Nope!"

Hesitantly, Thompson tried, "Nero fiddling over the burning of Rome?" He winced when Lee laughed.

"I like where your head's at, but no! I can't fiddle."

"The gremlin king from Huge Maze?" Tambry said.

Mabel piped up, "No, but the wig came from a gremlin king costume and I appreciate you for recognizing that!" Tambry nodded in cool approval.

Bill dispensed of Lee, Nate, and Wendy's guesses—Greek Christmas tree, that one guy who keeps painting burning banks, and hair metal Hades—before Robbie loudly cleared his throat to cut in. "Anyway, would love to stay and chat, but we've gotta move if we wanna be in position before sunset. Dipper, Mabel, you ready?"

"Ready to ghost it up!" Mabel said, squeezing around Bill with Dipper onto the porch.

Robbie surveyed their makeup—deathly white skin, ashen grey lips, and dark circles around their eye sockets. "Yeah, that's pretty good. Could use a little color, maybe. Like bloody tears?" He turned toward Tambry.

She said, "I think I've got some red eyeliner."

"'In position'?" Bill asked, giving Dipper and Mabel a questioning look.

Wendy said, "We're helping Robbie film this music video tonight."

"We're the creepy ghost twins!" Mabel announced proudly. "We get to sing the chorus."

Robbie said, "Yeah, the song's about childhood and growing up, but like, with ghosts? Because once you've grown up, your childhood is all dead? It's metal, but introspective. I'm calling the genre 'intrometal.'" He flipped his bangs dramatically. "It's a super deep song. Metaphorical layers."

"Oh yeah?" Bill stared Robbie down. "Sing some of it."

Robbie blinked. "Oh. Yeah, okay uh, I haven't warmed up my voice but, the hook is like—" He pantomimed playing a guitar and whisper-screamed, "'BABY DOLLS! BASKET BALLS! BASKET CASE! HUMAN RACE!' Like that."

Bill nodded slowly, face expressionless. "Ah, yeah, I see. Really deep stuff. Makes you think."

"Thanks." Robbie looked at Dipper and Mabel. "Anyway, if we're gonna get any footage in the graveyard before the jack-o'-melons start burning out, we've gotta move. Let's go, Creepy Ghost Twins."

"Wait, you're going out?" Bill asked Mabel. "Like out-out? Leaving me here? By myself? On Summerween?"

"Wh—yeah, we're only handing out candy for half the night," Mabel said. "I told you that."

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"When?"

Mabel thought. "No I didn't," she admitted. "Sorry!"

Wendy punched Bill's arm. "Sorry to steal them. We'll be back in a couple of hours," she said. "Or you could come help—?"

"No!" Dipper and Mabel both shoved Bill back into the house before he could accept. Dipper said, "You've gotta—guard the house." Mabel added, "And hand out candy!"

"Right," Bill said flatly. "Yes. That. Ha."

"See you later!" Mabel said, and then shut the door in his face.

The last thing he heard was Wendy explaining to her friends, "He's on house arrest for, like, academic plagiarism and war crimes or something..." and then they were gone.

Bill's shoulders slumped. Well, now what? He couldn't celebrate a holiday by himself. What was the point of wearing a costume if no one sees you in it. He picked up a piece of candy, discovered it was one of his decoys, and picked up another.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. He picked up the candy bowl, turned toward the door, and paused. Ah. Right. What was he supposed to do with this impenetrable portal-blocking slab of wood.

Who was left in the house? Stan on the roof, Ford in the basement, Abuelita probably already in bed... were any of them worth harassing to help him answer the door? Maybe Stan, he'd gotten all dressed up, he liked the holiday even if he didn't like Bill—

The trick-or-treater knocked more insistently.

Or. Or.

He could pick up the bowl, peer out the small window in the door, and make direct eye contact with the children outside while he ate candy.

As a piece of mid-tier chocolate melted on his tongue, he saw three trick-or-treaters' faces fall as their faith in a kind, caring universe died. He grinned at them and ate another chocolate.

Oh yeah. He grabbed the rest of his cider from the living room and set up post next to the door. This would keep him entertained the rest of the night.

####

He made seven small children cry.

####

Stan watched from his post on the roof as yet another sobbing kid ran away from the shack. "HA! Gottem! Sucker!" He affectionately patted his boombox. "Creepy ghoulish laughter, you never disappoint! Terrifying moochers since 1989!" He paused the cassette and rewound it a few seconds to replay the best part.

He heard a scraping sound above him, and looked up just in time to see Ford sliding down the roof to join him. "Oh, hey! I didn't think we'd see you again tonight."

"Mabel made me promise to celebrate Summerween a little."

"Good for her!"

Stan had already claimed the sun lounger, so Ford brushed some dust and leaves off the roof's cooler and sat. "So, what are we doing? Scaring trick-or-treaters?"

"Yep. This year I'm taking a more atmospheric approach." He gestured at his boombox, which by now was playing haunting organ music. "Nothing like screaming zombies and rattling chains from nowhere to freak out the kids."

Ford nodded. "Psychological torment. I approve."

"Not quite as good as getting to see the terror in their eyes, but." Stan shrugged. "Bill was hanging out with the kids. I didn't want to put up with him."

"Mm. There's a reason I was spending the holiday in the basement."

"Heh. Well, there's always Halloween."

They were silent for a moment, listening as the cassette moved on from organ music to werewolf howls. Stan asked, "Think we'll be rid of him by then? I know we were hoping to be done with him before the Fourth of July—but since I haven't heard anything lately, I figure you hit a roadblock."

Ford winced. "Guilty as charged." He was still relearning how to keep other people in the loop. Even Stan. "You're right. I have a weapon that can destroy him, but I can't find a fuel source without restarting the portal. I'm hoping Fiddleford will come up with a solution I haven't."

Stan nodded. Ford had told him he was getting Fiddleford involved; even as reluctant as Ford was to admit how little progress he'd made, he wasn't going to tell someone outside the family about Bill without letting Stan know. "Any breakthroughs on his end?"

####

During the credits between episodes of the retired samurai period drama (most recently, the samurai had been asked to use his sword to help cut flowers for a bouquet), Fiddleford leaned over and whispered to Ford, "So I've been a-lookin' at those blueprints you left me."

"And...?"

"And I've constructicated a power adaptor. Just jimmy out the fuel tank, swap it for the adaptor's cord, and you can power that weapon by pluggin' it into the wall! It'll just drain all the power from the town for a few seconds, that's all."

"Fiddleford, that's amazing—"

"Now, hold on. There's bad news," Fiddleford said. "Try as I might, I can't quite get it to draw enough power to activate those energy-destroying features what you'd need to disintegrate Bill. It'll work like a powerful laser, but nothin' else."

Ford sighed. "It's a starting point, I suppose."

"I'll send you home with the adaptor anyway. Never know when you'll need a big laser."

"Very true. Do you have any promising leads on other alternative fuels?"

Fiddleford shook his head. "It's the NowUSeeitNowUDontium or nothing. But I've got a hunch we could synthesize it under lab conditions. I'll letcha know in a few days."

And then the next episode started, and they dropped the conversation.

####

Ford let out a heavy sigh. "He's only had a partial success so far. But I'm hopeful he's on the right track."

"So, if he's working on this weapon, what are you doing?"

"Waiting, mostly. I don't know what else I can do."

Stan frowned. "What—that's it? You've been downstairs all day every day—if you're not figuring out how to destroy him, what are you doing?"

"Passing time somewhere I can be on call if he gets up to something—but I don't have to look at him," Ford said wryly. "And—as long as I'm waiting to hear back from Fiddleford, I've been... picking apart that list of spells Bill gave me. To see if any of them are tricks or traps."

Stan couldn't say he was surprised. That was his workaholic brother. A pamphlet of demon magic was like catnip to him. If anything, Stan was almost glad Ford had that letter to distract him. Over the past year...

Well, Ford was fine on land—when he temporarily had a mystery to solve, an adventure to pursue, an anomaly to study, a distraction to fill his time—but at sea, when his mind was unoccupied, he was listless. He had books he didn't read, field notes he didn't enter into his journal, games he didn't play. He fed himself and exercised and did chores around the ship like a robot programmed to take care of itself, and he stared out at the sea.

Last summer, Ford hadn't seemed happy but he'd seemed alive. Tired and angry, but alive. But after Weirdmageddon, a light in his eyes went out. Stan didn't know if it was the end of summer, or guilt over the memory gun, or the gap between finishing a thirty-year-long quest and discovering the next one. All Stan knew was the light hadn't come back on until the moment Bill Cipher, clad in a new body and a purple cartoon bedsheet, tried to cave Ford's skull in.

Ever since they were children, Ford had had a tendency to develop obsessions. It was somehow simultaneously both what made him most interesting and what made him boring. Depended on the obsession. But these all-consuming interests had always tended to last a few months, at most a year; and he'd never seemed to be without one, much less for nine months. Stan had no idea what carrying a single obsession for three decades might have done to Ford's mind.

Stan was glad something had woken Ford back up, and he worried that losing that focal point again might leave Ford permanently adrift. But another part of him worried that, this time, Ford wouldn't let the object of his obsession go. He tended to collect things related to his obsessions.

But then, he usually tended to like his obsessions. He hadn't seemed bothered to burn the contents of his creepy Bill shrine last summer. Ford wouldn't do anything stupid, Stan told himself. Ford hated Bill. "So? Were any of the spells traps?"

"Not... so far, no." Ford sounded irritated by this.

Stan shrugged. "Makes sense. He's trying to butter us up. If that idiot thinks being nice to us for a week or two is gonna make up for the years of grief he's given us—"

A loud rattle-clattering below made them both start. Stan sat bolt upright. "What the—?"

Ford inched to the edge of the dormer roof, knelt down, and leaned over the edge just far enough to see the window.

Bill's face was pressed to the glass, eye rolled up toward the roofline. He grinned in surprised delight and shouted through the glass, "HEY, STANFORD! What are you doing up here?! I thought you were downstairs!"

"Ugh." Ford turned to grimace at Stan. "Speak of the devil."

Bill pounded on the glass again. "Hey, Sixer! SIXER! Open the window!"

"Why?"

"I wanna talk!"

"No."

"Come ooon, the kids ditched me and I'm bored! There's no one in the house to talk to! The old lady's asleep and Stanley's on the roof, so—" He abruptly fell silent, squinting with deep suspicion at Ford-who-should-be-in-the-basement kneeling on the-roof-where-Stan-should-be, and said, "Wait. Are you Stanley right now? Show me your hand."

Ford did not. "Go away, Bill." He left the edge of the roof for his cooler seat.

"Get back here!" The pounding redoubled. "I don't care which Stan you are! If you don't wanna talk, I can always go wake up Dolores!"

Ford looked at Stan. "Mrs. Ramirez's name is Dolores?" He had gotten used to everyone calling her Abuelita.

Stan stomped on the roof, "Shaddup!"

Bill did not shaddup. "Come ooon!"

Stan sighed in defeat and heaved himself to his feet. "If he keeps that racket up he's gonna break that window, never mind that hex you put on him." When they'd taken out the original Bill-shaped window, Stan had replaced it with the cheapest window he could find. He didn't think it was very durable. "How much trouble can he get in with one open window twenty feet above the ground and both of us watching him?"

Ford Frowned.

"Don't gimme that look. Do you want to pay for a broken window?" Stan flipped through his keys for his key-shaped emergency lock pick, leaned over the edge of the roof, and wedged the pick into the window frame. The latch popped open. Lucky this window was so cheap, that wouldn't have worked on one with deluxe features like "airtight weatherstripping" or "a properly-fitting frame." Stan swung open the window. "Okay, you have our attention. Now what's the fastest way we can get rid of you?"

Bill clumsily climbed out to sit on the windowsill with his legs in the shack, and leaned back so he could see up onto the roof. "Hiya Fo—" He lost his balance, flailed, and yelped as he toppled backwards.

Stan and Ford lunged forward to seize an arm each. Stan snapped, "What are you doing, you maniac?!"

Bill stared up at them both in wide-eyed amazement. "You do like me."

Stan made a noise of disgust, let go, and wiped his hands on his pants like Bill had cooties.

Ford said, "We like you trapped in that body and not free to cause the apocalypse."

"I heard 'we like you'!"

"Shut up." Ford managed to haul Bill back upright. (Touching Bill felt wrong—all soft flesh and skin and the suggestion of bones underneath. Even when looking right at Bill's human body, Ford still expected him to feel like heavy shadows and heatless flames.) From this close, Bill reeked of cider. "Just how much have you had to drink?"

"Not so much I won't remember whatever you say in the morning, so be nice to me!" Bill laughed. He leaned back, this time hanging by one hand off the window frame to precariously maintain his balance, and grinned up at Ford. "So! The least fun person in the house has finally emerged from his lair? And you didn't even come into the house to join in the Summerween festivities! 'All work and no play'..."

Ford had to crouch at the edge of the roof, hovering nearby in case Bill lost his balance again. "I wanted to participate in Summerween, actually. It just so happens that the last person I'd ever spend a holiday with is in the house."

"Listen, Stanford. I know you're holing up in your study for days on end just to hurt me. But let's be honest, you're hurting yourself more! When's the last time you saw the sunlight! Look at how pale you're getting, you look like a vampire."

Stiffly, Ford said, "It's costume makeup. That's my vampire costume." Stan laughed.

"It what." Bill flipped up his eyepatch and squinted blearily at Ford's face.

Wordlessly, Ford bared his teeth to show off his plastic vampire teeth.

"Oh." Somewhat deflated, Bill said, "Nice work, it's convincing."

"Thanks," Ford said grudgingly. Giving in to his curiosity, he gestured toward Bill's (somewhat disheveled) reddish-yellow wig. "What are you."

"Oh!" Bill perked back up. "You've got to see the whole thing. Hold on—" He turned around in the window, ignoring how Ford half reached for him in case he needed steadying, until he got his legs outside to dangle on the roof. "What do you think!"

Ford looked over the brown toga flared out like a cone, the eruption of red hair, the small paper city below, and said, "Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii? Very clever."

Bill's face lit up. "Finally! You're the first person all day to get it!" He smoothed out the skirt proudly, his jerky gestures just a bit more exaggerated than usual. "Do you know how long I've wanted to go to a costume party as Vesuvius? But nobody off Earth would get it! And now that I'm finally here, I can't go to parties and I'm shaped more like a mandrake than a volcano." He flung up his hands, wobbled, and caught himself before Ford had to intervene. "But at least you got it. I knew I could count on you, IQ."

He sounded so sincerely grateful. Ford regretted calling the costume clever. It was, but Bill didn't need the ego boost.

"Oh! By the by—I didn't think you'd emerge before the day was over, so I saved this." Bill fished around in his toga until he retrieved a mini pack of jelly beans. "Here!"

Ford eyed the pack. "Why is it open?"

"Because you only like the weird-shaped jelly beans, so I ate all the normal beans and saved the weird ones in one bag."

"I don't want this. You touched every one of the beans, that would be disgusting even if they weren't coming from you," Ford said. "Anyway, this is a patently transparent attempt to buy your way into my good favor—"

"It sure is, Ford, and if you don't accept it I'll get to be annoying about your ingratitude for weeks! Is that what you want? You know I'll do it. Everyone will be on my side—"

Ford sighed, but snatched the bag from Bill's hand. "Fine. Now drop it."

"That's more like it!" Bill favored Ford with an approving smile. "Anyway, it's just about the only candy left in the house, I ate everything else—hey, have you ever been cross faded on cider and a sugar rush?"

Ford was still trying to decide whether he wanted to engage in this one-sided conversation enough to ask Bill what "cross faded" meant when Bill moved on without him: "It's—not that interesting, actually. 6 out of 10. Anyway, all that's left in the bowl is mints and wrappers. And Mabel even managed to give most of the mints away—hey, she's so nice, did you know she's helping to resurrect the Summerween Trickster?"

She was doing what? "No. Why?"

"She's so nice."

"You just said that."

"What is she so nice for. What's she getting out of it," Bill asked, more to the universe at large than to Ford. "If more humans were half as nice to freaks as she is, your rotten planet wouldn't need people like you and me to save it."

Ford didn't even know where to begin with that. He looked to Stan for help.

Stan was sitting straddling his lounger, elbow on one knee and chin in his hand, watching this exchange like he was watching a weird bug on the wall try to navigate around a picture frame. At Ford's glance, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed sipping from a drink.

He could say that again. Ford cleared his throat. "Bill, maybe you should..."

"Hey," Bill said. "Great talk, we really should catch up more sometime. And pull your weight next time, I always have to do all the talking. But right now, I'm..." He gestured vaguely off to the side. "I'm gonna lie down and try not to throw up. Ciao!" He swayed as he tried to get back in the window, tumbled backward into the shack, and thudded heavily on the floor. "Ow."

Ford gingerly shut the window.

Stan turned up the boombox. "Chatty drunk, isn't he."

"He's chatty sober, too." But in front of the kids? Neither of them saw Bill as a role model, but they still didn't need to be exposed to that kind of behavior. Especially when the responsible adults were outside or asleep... "Did we really leave Bill alone in the house with the kids?"

"W—I—" Stan shrugged defensively. "They were all right! They can take him! They're doing karate or whatever! You didn't see how Mabel flipped him at the mall! It was like David wrestling Goliath."

"David and Goliath didn't wrestle."

"You know what I mean."

Ford supposed he didn't think Bill was any threat to the children. At least, not right now, and not physically. He felt like he'd know if Bill was about to try anything.

He looked at his open bag of gross felt-up jelly beans. Speaking of trying to butter them up... Ford wound up and chucked the bag as hard as he could.

He stared into the dark after it.

A small part of him was beginning to wonder whether this wasn't all just an attempt to get Ford's guard down. The gifts, sure, that was as clear-cut a case of bribery as you could get. Nothing ambiguous there.

But the endless chatter... Back when Ford had called Bill his Muse, this was exactly how he'd wanted Bill to talk to him. Not in the flighty half-distracted way of a friendly businessman catching up on a work project's progress before hurrying on to the next meeting; but just talking for talking's sake, talking for the company.

Getting what he once had longed for made his skin crawl. And he couldn't even tell if Bill was acting.

The boombox let out a ghastly banshee shriek. Ford and Stan both jumped, then laughed awkwardly.

Ford sat on the cooler again. "Is it just me, or... did Bill completely ignore you as soon as he realized I was up here."

"Well. I wasn't gonna mention it. I didn't wanna sound jealous of the attention. But yeah—he's been doing that since he got here. If you're in the room, he tunes everyone else out."

"I thought it was in my head." And he hadn't wanted to sound like he wanted to imagine Bill was favoring him.

"And you do the same thing around him," Stan said, and laughed at Ford's flinch of alarm. "It's—it's fine, I get it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You've got some kind of superhero-supervillain nemesis thing."

Ford got the distinct impression that Stan was offering him a convenient excuse for the tunnel vision. He took it. "I suppose that's true." The way his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed around Bill certainly felt like a "nemesis" reaction.

But if Stan thought Ford was a bit too preoccupied by Bill... well, maybe he was right. Once Ford had gotten over his initial wave of fear, of despair, of outrage at the injustice, at finding Bill was still alive—there was a part of him that was almost relieved. A part of him that had been on guard against nothing for the past year, twisting around looking for an absent threat. Now that it knew where the threat was, that part of him could finally settle down and watch Bill with steady, certain eyes. Having nothing to worry about made him more anxious than having one thing to always worry about.

(Maybe Shermie's kid had been on to something when he suggested Ford might benefit from therapy.)

Knowing Bill was back didn't put the old starlight and awe back in that hole Bill had left in Ford's chest. But dread could fill a hole all the same.

Ford tried to push Bill out of his mind and the conversation. "You think I'm like a superhero?"

"You run around fighting monsters with a space laser. What else would you be?"

"Huh." Well. That made his night.

"Just as long as you don't pull that 'hero spares the villain to show how good he is' shtick."

"Never." Ford laughed ruefully. "I think I left 'good' behind a few felonies back." He'd probably left "good" behind the night he accepted the portal blueprints.

"Couple stragglers," Stan said, nodding out into the dark. It took Ford a moment to spot the costumed kids and remember it was Summerween. "I recognize those costumes, I scared them off an hour ago. What are they doing back?"

Ford squinted at them. "Are those toilet paper rolls?"

"Wh—Hey! What are you little runts— Hey!" Stan leaped to his feet, shaking his fist at the kids below. "Get away from my car! Stop that! I'll have you know that's a classic— No, not the eggs!"

Ford slid out his freeze ray, turned down the power, and offered it to Stan. "Here. At this power and distance, it'll feel like getting pelted with invisible snowballs."

Stan snatched up the weapon. "Eat this, twerps!"

The Summerween night air was filled with the screams of terrified children and the evil laughter of an old man.

####

Wow. It sure sounded like everybody was having fun. Outside. Without him.

Bill was nauseous.

He stared at the spinning ceiling, flat on his back, one leg on a cushion and the rest of him on the floor.

Bill was nauseous and alone. The loneliness tore at his throat. Even Mabel had ditched him. Of course she did—he'd tried to kill her. He'd barely even remembered he'd tried to kill her until she brought it up. Had he tried to kill her? No, surely not—he liked the kid, he'd always liked her—he'd been faking to force Ford's hand, he never would have gone through with it. He would've teleported her into another room and pretended he'd disintegrated her. She didn't know he hadn't meant it. She was just mad he'd scared her. She couldn't take a joke.

But, Ford talked to him. Ford even liked his costume. It wasn't much, but it would get Bill through the night.

When he saw Kryptos again—when, not if—he was slicing him into a jigsaw puzzle for not taking Bill's call. The nerve of that guy, hanging up on a human without even waiting a few words to see if they had anything interesting to say.

(What if it hadn't been an accident, he wondered? What if Kryptos had realized it was Bill and still hung up?)

(No. Of course it was an accident.)

He shut his eyes. He was probably too drunk to dream tonight. Well, he could try again tomorrow. His little lucid dreaming guide was currently teaching him to influence the next night's dream by focusing on a topic before sleep. Maybe tomorrow he could dream about the Nightmare Realm.

He missed home.

####

(Congratulations to the approximately 50% of respondents who correctly figured out Bill's costume when I posted the art on Halloween, you're officially smarter than everybody in Gravity Falls except Ford. This is one of those chapters with a whole lot going on so if you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your comments!!)

#(tbh that's the best Mabel & Dipper I've ever drawn)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #(for both the art & fic)#grunkle ford #grunkle stan #(for just the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #fanart #bill goldilocks cipher

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sea-owl · 5 months

Note

Ohhhh if you’re taking writing prompts how about enemy chefs to lovers Polin?

Before I get into this, let me clarify that I am of the belief that if they don't try to kill each other at least once, then it's not enemies to lovers. Now that that's out of the way, this gives me an idea. Also partly inspired by @thekatebridgerton post of the siblings being embodiments of the 7 (8) deadly sins.

Penelope grew up in a family where every generation, one child would be born to be eaten by the gluttonoust demon whose domain bordered her family's ancestral lands. Well technically they were raised to be the one who cooks for the demon but when it always ends with them being devoured instead it doesn't really matter does it?

Typically, this role should have been taken on by the second born, Penelope's older sister Philippa, but instead, Penelope's mother had convinced her father to make Penelope the sacrifice instead.

"You're smarter than your sisters," Portia had told her the night it was announced. "Clever. If any of you have a chance of killing the demon it is you Penelope."

From that point on, Penelope learned how to make different dishes from things like mince pies, biscuits, and her personal favorite eclairs. She knows how to prep all different kinds of meat from farm raised animals to game to fish. She knows which fruits are ripe and which still need time. Portia made sure Penelope knew how to use a knife and which plants mixed well for flavor and which would end a life if mixed together.

"Remember, Gluttony will always want to consume more," Portia would remind her daughter. "There is no such thing as never enough."

Finally, on the day of her 18th birthday, the day came where Penelope would present her first meal to the demon. She decided to go with a fish covered in a basil and lemon cream sauce. Some roasted potatoes and vegetables. A loaf of dark bread, wine, and mixed berry eclairs for dessert.

All that was left was to bring it to the forest and pray he eats it instead of her. Carefully, she packed everything into a basket. She had to be at there by sunrise after all.

"Pen wait!" Penelope's youngest sister, Felicity, called out. The eleven year old ran down the stairs with a package in her arms.

"Litty!" Penelope exclaimed. "What are you doing awake? The sun has yet to rise."

"I wanted to give you your birthday present," Felicity said, holding up the package.

Penelope set her stuff down and carefully opened the gift. Inside was a beautiful set of kitchen knives. Every single one sharp and ready for use. "Oh Litty."

Felicity hugged her sister. "The blacksmith promised me they are extra sharp. So maybe, maybe you can come home soon."

Penelope hugged her sister tighter. Even if she could get rid of the demon it wasn't guaranteed she live too.

"I'll try," Penelope promised.

That seemed to be good enough for the eleven year old as she gave Penelope one last hug before waving her off.

In the forest, where Penelope was to meet her new master sat a table directly over the border between her family's lands and the demons. It is where her relatives in the past have presented their first and often times last meal to the demon of Gluttony.

It is where Penelope sets up the meal as the first rays of light spill across the land behind her. It is also where Penelope sees her new master for the first time.

Gluttony honestly looks like any other man Penelope has seen, a rather handsome one, but still a man. Penelope would put him at around 6 feet with dark chestnut hair and green eyes. His beauty, though, screamed dangerous to Penelope. Like a poisonous snake whose pretty colors serve as a warning to the venom they carry.

Now that snake sat across from Penelope at the table.

"Ah are you my new mortal?" Gluttony asked.

Penelope bowed her head. "Penelope Featherington, my lord."

The demon picked up the fork Penelope placed and dug in. He let out a moan tasting the food. "Delicious, and thank you for not poisoning it like some of your other relatives."

Well that's one plan Penelope shouldn't rely on.

Gluttony bit into the eclair. "Are you not eating?"

Penelope shook her head. This had to be some sort of test, right? Gluttony doesn't share. "No, my lord, I know sharing food isn't something you do."

Gluttony's eyes lit up. "I don't share huh?"

Penelope found herself on her back, staring up into green eyes. A piece of the eclair was being pressed into her lips. The same piece that Gluttony held in his own lips.

What is he doing? Gluttony always wants more so what is he getting more of out of this?!

Penelope found herself frozen on the grass. She tries to command her hand to reach for anything that can help her. She can't breathe. She opens her mouth to take a deep breath, but that only entices Gluttony to push the eclair further in.

Penelope felt her hand brush against her basket. Somehow, she reaches inside and grabs the handle of one of Felicity's gifts. Her grip firmly secured Penelope plunges the knife into the demon's side.

Gluttony, still on top of Penelope looks down at his side.

Oh shit. Well, she's definitely getting eaten.

"Lord Gluttony I-"

Penelope is cut off by the demon's chuckle.

"Gluttony is my sister," the demon said, looking back down at Penelope. Without even flinching he pulled out the knife. "I'm Wrath."

Penelope's eyes widen. "But the food-"

The demon Wrath only smirked. "I'm a growing boy, and you mortals have such delicious food."

Colin grinned down at the little mortal underneath him. Oh, she had no idea of the courting ritual she just initiated by stabbing him. He's going to have fun playing with her.

#bridgerton #polin #the cook and the demon #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington

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jasmines-library · 4 months

Note

Can you do a Winchester sister fic pls where the sister gets years taken off her life by saving Dean (how Dean took years off his life to save Bobby in season 5) and she’s running out of time and while Sam is finishing up the poker game against the witch to save her, she dies in deans arms (the sister is closer with Dean and always looked up to him and the boys ofc are always protective of her) but then Sam wins the poker game and brings her back

The Curious Case of Dean Winchester

Note: This one was really fun to write. I hope you don't mind that I added my own little twist onto the episode (S5E7) and that it's pretty angsty: I couldn't help myself.

warnings: Death but only brief, swearing once or twice.

Word count: 2.3K (wow it's been a hot minute since I've written like this and i've missed it)

⛤ SPN MASTERLIST ⛤

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

Those were the last words Dean Winchester told you before you split off to search the other side of town. Of course, that is exactly what you did.

As soon as Cliff Whitlow, the missing victim, had revealed the man behind his so-called miracle, you knew exactly what you had to do. The man behind the unusual deaths- Patrick, was a witch- a powerful one at that. And you needed a Witch.

See, Dean had got himself into a predicament. He had made a deal with a crossroads demon so that Bobby could walk again. He couldn’t bear to see him so miserable anymore, so he did what he thought was the right thing to do. Bobby was mad, you and Sam even madder, and you were now running out of time to find a way to get him out of it. It frustrated you that Dean’s impending doom was creeping up slowly on you, ready to grab him at any second, but no one was doing anything about it. So you took matters into your own hands.

You took the elevator around the back of the bar down to the basement after bribing the bartender with enough money to make you cringe. It was rickety and jolted unnervingly as it descended, opening up into another bar. Few people lingered around sipping from glasses of spirits that lined the walls, though you paid little attention to them because your gaze had locked onto him. He sat smugly in a secluded section of the room behind a table a poker game had been laid out on. Leaning back on his chair he watched his latest victim bet away his life. He was using magic to enchant the poker chips, grinning as he scooped the man's chips towards him, watching as his face turned ashen and grey.

“That’s a cruel trick you got there.” You said making your way over to the table.

“Thank you.” He shrugged, rearranging the black and red chips with a smirk. “I take it you’re here for a reason?”

“I want to play.”

He glanced up at you, raising a brow and speaking to you with a thick, Irish lilt. “You look awfully young for someone trying to get more years… that is unless?”

“I’m not a witch.”

“I see.” you were intriguing him now. “How can I help you?”

“My brother. He made a demon deal. I need you to get rid of it in return for my years.”

The witch tilted his head as he looked at you keely. “Now slow down there, princess. Cancelling a demon deal is a very difficult thing to do. Takes a whole bunch of magic and persuasion to do that. Giving me a few years isn’t going to be enough.”

“30.” You laid down.

“Tempting.” He hummed, “But I think we can have some real fun with this. What do you say?”

“Whatever. Just help my brother.”

“Good answer. I’ll play for your brother’s deal. You win, I'll try to cut your brother's deal.”

“And if I lose?”

“60.” The staggering number almost made your heart stop, but you were doing this for Dean. Sam needed him. The world needed him. “But it’ll start slowly until you least expect it.”

“Deal. Oh and one more thing.”

The witch leaned forwards in his chair

“Dean can’t play to replace my years with his own.”

“You must be very desperate.” The witch mused, gesturing for you to take a seat as he began to shuffle his deck of cards. “That or you’re extremely stupid. Who knows. But I like you. You show loyalty to your family and that’s very important. Perhaps, once you lose I might even see if I can remove your brother's deal. I’m feeling generous today.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Just shut up and play.”

“Y/N?”

Dean’s voice made you stop dead in your tracks as you rounded the corner after stepping out of the elevator. He stared at you with an irascible look, though you could see the confusion hidden in his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He hissed at you. You were supposed to be across the other side of town. When the three of you split up, you took off in the wrong direction to slip into the bar before your brothers found it. You had taken the receipt from one of the victims' jackets and raced down there in hopes that you would make it out before one of them stumbled across it. I guess you were just incredibly unlucky today.

“Planting daisies.” You said sarcastically as you tried to push your way past your brother so he wouldn’t see your face. “What’s it look like?”

“So you found the game?” He queried, chasing after you.

“Yep.”

“Did you stop it?”

You kept quiet and continued on straight. You had lied to Dean hundreds of times before so why couldn’t you bring yourself to do it now?

“Y/N?”

You stopped, turning to face him with a sigh.

“Not exactly…”

You could see the dread on his face now. “What did you do?”

You swallowed thickly. “I played. Okay?”

Dean Winchester stared at you dumbfounded for a moment, his lips twitching as he struggled to process the right words. “And?”

“...I lost.”

Your brother nearly exploded. “Are you kidding me?! The one thing I told you not to do was ‘anything studpid’. And you played some He-witch?!”

“Someone had to do something Dean! I can’t just sit by everyday knowing that you could be dragged away from us any second. I can’t go through that again Dean.”

“You idiot.” He was blaming himself, you could hear it on his tongue; the way he seethed. “Sammy and I are looking for something. We will find something.”

“That’s what you said last time. And I'm sorry Dean, but I can’t. Sammy needs you. The world needs you.”

“And you don’t think we need you?! You can’t go throwing your years away.”

“They’re my years. I can do what I want.”

“How many did you lose Y/N?”

“60.”

Sam bustled through the door trying to balance a tray of drinks and a paper bag filled with fast food. He slid them on the counter and tossed his keys beside them as he called out.

“Are you guys home?”

“In here, Sammy.” Dean emerged from the bathroom and Sam could tell his brother was mad. He was wearing that stern look and his voice was agitated.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Here.” You bundled through the door, glancing silently between your brothers gripping a candy bar you had wrangled from one of the vending machines. You didn’t really want it you just needed an excuse to get out of the motel room and escape from the tension and side glances that Dean shot your way.

Sam studied you for a moment as you pulled out a chair to slump on. At first glance he hardly noticed it, but he realised that you looked older. Not by a lot, but you moved differently and your eyes were ever so slightly more creased.

“Either of you two wanna tell me what happened?”

“Y/N’s got a death wish. That’s what happened.” Dean stated, rummaging in the bag that Sam had brought back from the diner.

“Oh so I was just supposed to let you die? Again?”

“Yes. Or find another way.” Dean spat back at you but you knew he was scared. Scared and feeling guilty for what your near future might entail.

Sam blinked as the two of you argued, firing words at each other. “Whoa. Slow down. What happened? Did you find the witch?”

“Oh yeah. Y/N found the witch alright, Sammy. Why don’t you tell him what happened, Kid?”

“I played.”

“You what?”

“I played for Dean’s deal to be spoiled… and I lost.”

“Oh God, Y/N/N… How much did you lose?”

“60…” You started, watching the horror cross his features. “But he’s taking them slowly. Waiting until we least expect it.”

“And there’s the punchline.” Dean could have laughed.

Sam was in shock, though he understood why you had done it. He understood why you were hurting. He was there when Dean was taken. He saw how broken up it made you and he saw how you clung to him when he returned, hesitant to leave his side for weeks.

“Oh kiddo.” he sighed “What have you gotten yourself into?”

“You know, I still think I should play.” Sam said. The three of you had just broken into the Witch’s flat. Sam and Dean believed that if they got hold of the chips then they could find a way to get you your years back, but you had been caught and the witch had revealed that the chips had nothing to do with it. That was when Sam was given the idea to play for you. In the meantime you could feel your body changing and see the lines being etched into your face.

“No. No.” Dean cut his brother off straight away. “You’re not good enough. I’m better, Y/N's way better. We both lost.”

“What so I don’t get a say in this anymore? Dean can’t play so I’m the only option we got. I’ve watched you hustle plenty of poker games. Hell, that’s how Y/N learnt-”

“Sammy.” You pleaded. You knew that if this went wrong everything you did would have been for nothing. “Please. No.”

“Y/N. We can’t just let you… you’ll die. We’re going to find you a way out of this. I promise.”

“Take it.” The blonde woman, the one from the bar and the witch’s apartment, was perched on your bed as the three of you hustled back into the room. Dean’s fingers instinctively reached for the gun he had tucked in his waistband. “It’ll help.”

Sam took the parchment gingerly, turning it over in his hands before reading the messy handwriting scrawled across the page. “What is this?”

“The most powerful reversal spell you’ve ever laid your eyes on.”

“And it reverses what?” Dean asked.

“Patrick’s work. All of it.”

“You saying she could be normal again?” Your brother’s hand found your shoulder protectively.

“Her and everyone else he’s ever played.” She said before adding “who’s still alive.”

“Why the hell should we trust you?” Sam scowled.

“Trust me, don’t trust me. I don’t care.” She stood and made her way to the door. “The spell is real.”

“If it zaps everyone, doesn’t that include your man?” Dean asked.

“And me too.” She shrugged, “I look good for my age.”

“Lady, this don’t add up for shit.” Dean said. “Why would you want that?”

“I have my reasons.” her hand went to fiddle with the silver locket around her neck before she fled. “Do it quickly. We leave town tomorrow.”

The spell hadn’t worked.

When Dean tossed the toothpick Sam had smuggled him into the flames he looked up at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes but nothing happened. You didn’t get younger. And Sam was still betting his life away against that witch.

You could feel it now, the way your life was slowly slipping away. At first you didn’t really notice it, but as soon as you began pursuing Patrick, you knew your end was approaching quickly. You supposed that ‘when you least expected’ was a lot closer than you expected. The thought made you bitter as you shuffled into the car, wincing at the way your joints ached the way they would after a long hunt or session at the gym.

Dean glanced at you through Baby’s mirror as he sped down the road towards Patrick’s apartment in search of some more of his DNA. His concern grew as you climbed the stairs much slower than you would usually have done and as you entered his room.

The two of you searched quickly, looking anywhere for a speck of something that might contain just a speck of his DNA. another one of those toothpicks or something. Albeit the pair of you were struggling to find anything.

And then it is you. All at once your joints popped and clicked as your body changed suddenly. You cried out in pain as your brother ran to your side to catch you before you could hit the ground.

“No. No. Not yet.”

You blinked up at him as you struggled to breath, your heart slowing as your body forgot how to function.

“Dean…” Your voice faded as he cradled you in his arms. Your breaths slowing and your eyes fluttering.

“No.” His voice broke as he fumbled for his phone. “No you hang on sweetheart. Come on Sammy, pick up!”

There was no answer as Dean’s phone rang and went straight through to Sam’s voicemail. “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed as he through his phone across the room, tears streaming down his face as he clung to you. Watching your chest slowly rise and fall. Up and down…up and down…up..and…down…up-

There was nothing after that. You lay morbidly still in his arms as your body ceased to function.

“No! Y/N. I can’t lose you now. Please….”

You did not move and the room was filled with the sound of your big brother’s grief and he sobbed. And then, you took a gasping breath and sat up abruptly in his arms.

Your body had returned to normal. The extra wrinkles around your eyes and the grey hairs gone. Your breaths were steady and your heart was strong.

“Y/N/N?” He whispered.

“Dean?” Your eyes searched him. “Sammy did it.”

“Yeah.” He breathed out, squeezing you tightly. “I knew he would.”

Dean’s phone began to ring from across the room. Reluctantly, he peeled himself away from you as he moved to get it, though his attention never strayed far from you.”

“Dean?!” You heard your other brother over the speakers. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah. You did it, Sam. She’s going to be just fine.”

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jerzwriter · 3 months

Text

Pen-sive

Thank you so much for this three-word ask @thosehallowedhalls: Ethan, Kaycee, pens. You have no idea how excited I was about this... I'll tell you why at the end of the fic. 😊

Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 582 Summary: Something is missing, and Kaycee is not amused. A/N: @choicesjanuary2024 Day 17 - Rest (It's a bit of a stretch, but the poor man was resting - for a bit 😊)

It had been a fairly quiet afternoon by Edenbrook standards, and Ethan was relishing the relative quiet in his office. Finally catching up on work he had put aside for a day just like today, he stopped to take a break when he felt the warm sun beaming in from the window. Sitting back in his chair, he closed his eyes to relish the peace and tranquility.

It was short-lived.

Kaycee came barrelling into the room with the force of a hurricane (and we're not talking about a category one). Slamming the door behind her, there was a fire in her eyes as she marched up to Ethan’s desk. He let out a breath; the break was nice, while it lasted.

“Yes,” he said with his best manufactured smile.

“What is this,” Kaycee spat, tossing an object that clearly offended her onto Ethan’s desk.

He picked it up and examined it as meticulously as if it were a newly admitted patient. Then, after much thought, he placed it down before him.

“It’s a pen, my dear. A Bic pen, if we’re being exact. Classic style in clear plastic barrel casing. It appears to be a ballpoint with the blue cap still intact. Is that a sufficient explanation? Or do you require more?”

Kaycee plopped into the chair with a weary sigh, rubbing her temples to release the tension.

“And, my love, what is my opinion on this variety of pens?”

“You find them to be vile and an affront to humanity. You lie awake at night, baffled over why Congress has not taken adequate steps to rid society of each and every one.”

Her lips curled upward, and that dimple Ethan loved so much appeared. She wanted to maintain the level of exaggerated fury she had burst in with, but as usual, he wore her down.

“You are insane,” she chuckled.

“I’m insane? I'm insane? Should I bring in an impartial third party to determine who the insane one is?”

“Where is my pen!” She demanded. “I was sitting with you this morning, and I had it... my baby! My beautiful Uniball Jetstream retractable pen. You know, the one that glides across the page like silk, leaving a nice bold line without one single smudge or skip. WHERE is it Ethan, and don’t lie to me... I have my ways of finding these things out.”

Ethan smiled and shook his head. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out Kaycee’s treasured writing implement and handed it to her across his desk.

“In fairness, YOU grabbed the wrong pen when you left the office this morning. I had nothing to do with this. I didn’t even use it, just had it in my pocket for safe keeping... I know better.”

“I was still not caffeinated!" She said defensively. "I'll cut you a little slack, but did you page me 911 telling me to get back to your office and get it right away? No. So I still hold you accountable for making me use that... that vile excuse of a pen all morning.”

Ethan took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How can I make it up to you, dear?”

“Take me to lunch?”

He smiled and stood up from his chair, tossing his car keys in his pocket as he did.

“Let’s go, and perhaps we can swing by Staples on the way back.”

“Staples? Why?”

“To get you a new box of those Uniball pens. I can’t take this kind of stress at work.”

Beaming, she reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “You know, you’re the best boyfriend ever!”

“Yep!” He nodded. “I certainly am.”

A/N2: OK, so you don't know this, but I am OBSESSED with pens. I am an utter pen snob, and it's not healthy. To make it worse, my boss's boss is the same way. We keep the cheap, shitty pens on our desks and "our pens" locked away so no one can get to them. If someone inadvertently takes one, we have been known to spend the morning hunting the offender down and making them pay. So the JOY this prompt brought me... you have NO idea. And now you have a peek into my variety of mental illness. lol Thank you!

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#open heart #open heart fanfic #open heart choices #choices open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #playchoices fanfic

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 1 month

Note

Hii!

I was wondering if you could do some ticci toby x child reader headcanons?

𝕐'𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕠𝕓𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕒 𝕗𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣?

ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕘𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕠 @𝕤𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕜𝕒-𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕤! 𝔾𝕠 𝕗𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜!!

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕠 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘!!

Toby x Child!Reader

I know I've mentioned this before on a previous post, but idk if it was on a Toby req so I'll put it again

It is very very rare for anyone new to come into the team and actually live in the manor

Slender has a lot of employees outside of the manor obviously, and the manor is reserved for the best of the best, his favorite employees if you will

So when a new member is actually said to be coming into the manor, a lot of people get really excited!

Some aren't excited and actually don't like the idea of more people coming into the manor, but there is chatter about it nonetheless

However, when it is known that a child is joining the manor, the tone becomes more sad than excited

I mean, a lot of the creeps come from awful backgrounds, but Slender typically tries to wait until said person is 18 just to get rid of any potential headaches of "missing child" cases

So whenever he decides to bring in a child, immediately everyone knows that the situation was so bad he physically couldn't wait

Another thing is that whenever a new person joins the manor, a party is held in their honor, so that they can get comfortable with the people and have some fun in their new home

But for children, the parties are way smaller and more child friendly

There is food (friendly for all diets/religions), drinks, music, and not that many people

Only children and designated caretakers are allowed

Toby is not an official caretaker, but a lot of the kids like him because of how sweet he is

First time you meet Toby is probably a week or so after your party

You and Sally are playing with dolls and plushies in her room, when you hear a knock at her door

Sally hops up to go open the door and squeaks happily when she sees Toby

"Hi Toby! We're playing dolls, wanna come play too?"

Toby rubs her head and smiles "Uh, sure Sal, I don't have anything else going on right now."

Sally clings onto his leg as he walks over to her bed and places a neatly folded pink dress on the sheets "Jason said your dress is all fixed up"

That's when he sees you, who at this point had just been observing everything happening around you

"Oh. Hello, I don't think I've met you before" He says, picking Sally up off his leg and placing her back down on the floor

Sally runs over to you and picks up her toys "Yeah, they're my new friend! I met them at the party"

"Ooooh. Well, what's your name?" He asks, coming to sit next to Sally and holding open his hand as she gives him a doll to play with

"Y/n..." You whisper shyly

"Hi y/n, i'm Toby"

As you play together, you find that Toby is very fun to be around, he is better at playing pretend than any of the other adults

He is also pretty strong, so he is able to pick both you and Sally up at the same time and spin you around

After this first meeting, you find yourself gravitating towards Toby more than any of the other caretakers

Which is fine, you don't have to only talk to the caretakers, they're just there for the kids that don't want to talk to any other adults

He at first, is just like any other play mate, he almost never says no to playing with any of the kids because if he's at the house, then chances are he's not doing anything important

But as you spend more and more time with him, he becomes more of a caretaker to you

He gets you your food, helps you with laundry, comforts you when you are sick or sad, etc

Fun fact, he is really good at doing hair

After years and years of Sally asking for hers to be done, he picks up a few things

His favorite to do are braids, because they're fairly easy and they look neat

He is good with any texture of hair, because after doing Sally's hair, a lot of other children with different hair types also came to him so no matter what hair type/texture you have, he'll still be able to do it if you so wish <333

#creepypasta #slender mansion #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x female reader #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticcy toby #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x y/n

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graysnetwork · 1 year

Text

HERMOSA

(I’m in severe need of more Luis fics, and I feel bad for spamming the same ppl but there’s no other ppl who write for him🫠)

Notes— I was planning on the reader speaking a bunch of Spanish throughout the story but I forgot until the end so hopefully it’s okay. AFAB reader. My tumblr also glitched so there might be misspelled things.

Summary— Luis is enjoying giving nicknames to Leon’s partner because she decided to keep her name a secret. But she’s enjoying it too.

Warnings— none, im pretty sure

You, Leon, and ashley ran into the house, breathing heavily because of the rush from running away from the ganados, Leon was mad at the man who had shouted at all of of you guys to come get inside of the building. "You" Leon said pushing the guys against the wall, "listen about earlier!" The man said, you could hear his accent in the sentence

"Yeah about that" Leon mocked him almost, "Ahh, I see you found your missing señorita, and got your partner back" the man said. Ashley walked in front of your "señorita has a name, Ashley" she told him, both you and Leon trusted her to keep herself safe but you didn't know if you could trust this man so you walked up to stand beside her.

"And you are?" You asked, "Luis Serra, encantado" he responded almost immediately "and your name hermosa?" He asked you "that's not important" you told him Leon hummed agreeing with you, Luis looked back at him remembering he was being held against a wall.

"What are you doing here?" Leon asked Luis, "very good questions, unfortunately" luis nodded off to bring all of your guys' attention to the ganados walking through the gate.

“I think we need to continue this conversation later,

I'll get your name later hermosa"

—

Ashley yelled from across the building "Guys! This way, hurry!" You turned to her before turning back and shooting a ganado. Even more started to raid the building so the three of you guys started running out of the house that you guys had been inside.

You guys finally got away from all the zombie, and Ashley began to cough you checked her hand as she looked at it scared, "Ashley, is this your first time coughing up blood like that?" Luis asked her, she nodded in response "you wanna explain something?" Leon asked Luis.

He explained that, what Ashley was experiencing was plagas. Luckily you guys had found out at an early stage so hopefully you could get rid of it from her body.

"So, that's plagas?" You asked, he hummed and nodded his head, you sighed and began to walk away from the group looking around wanting to distract yourself from that new found information.

"We won't let her turn into one of them, It'll be alright hermosa" Luis told you, he assumed you were worried about Ashley, which you were obviously, but you were also worried about yourself.

"Im not just worried about her, I think I have plagas" you said, "what?" Ashley asked, "| started coughing up blood and feeling terrible about two hours ago, I thought I was just disgusted by this whole. situation, but I guess not!" You said shrugging. "Don't worry mi carino, l'll take care of you, I won't let anything happen to you" Luis told you. You smiled at Luis' choice of nick name for you, it was cute and it was nice you were the only one who understood him

If Ashley even had a clue of these names he was giving you she would totally make fun of you, or ship you guys.

But you thought it wasn't anything more than flirting, you could tell that Luis was the flirty type and you didn't think it was anything more than that but knowing Ashley (after a little while) she'd totally ship you guys and tell you guys you were perfect for each other.

But you lightly nodded to him before he began talking again "luckily, we can remove these parasites from you guys when we get to my laboratory" he said, reassuring you that he would get the plagas removed from the two of you.

"Why are you helping us?" Leon asked him, "because it makes me feel better, let's leave it at that" he said plainly.

"how about you come with me hermosa?" Luis suggested, Leon looked at you, he didn't want you to go with him because he still did not trust him and what he was up to.

“Well keep each other safe" Luis said, "he must really want me to go with him„ you thought to yourself “alright then” you said, smiling at Leon trying to reassure him that you’d be fine. “Great, we’ll be in contact” Luis said and began walking away, waving his radio around to show Leon how they would be in contact.

—

“so why did you want me to come with you?” You asked Luis “because, you were infected first so you need to be taken care of first” Luis said looking around, “and” he added “I still haven’t gotten your name” he said smiling.

“You really wanna know huh” you said teasingly, “of course, a beautiful woman must have a beautiful name” he said, his words made your cheeks heat up.

“Hm, I don’t know if I should tell you” you told him, you two were standing in a forest, in the middle of nowhere, flirting with each other. You both knew this was not the right place or time to be doing this but it was fun, plus it gave you a distraction to all the chaos that was going on around you guys.

Although, ever since you separated from Leon, there wasn’t any danger around you and Luis, or at least less danger. Maybe danger and chaos followed Leon around.

“Im kind of enjoying these nicknames your giving me Luis” you told him, you were getting closer to him, and grabbed the zipper of his jacket and played around with it.

“You are?” He says, his voice barely above a whisper, he was getting more red by every second you two were getting closer.

“Mhmm” you hummed, and got on your tippy toes to get even closer face to face. “So I’ll keep it a secret for little longer” you said as you backed away, standing normally again, you patted his chest and continued on your way, walking on the trail you two were following. Luis just watched as you walked away from him, the way your hips swayed and the way you your black cargo pants somehow hugged your figure perfectly.

He scoffed and began following you, taking out his lighter to play with since it was boring. It was quiet, only the crunching of the leaves beneath your guy’s feet were heard, before you asked “so, is this “procedure” gonna hurt?” Luis was silent for a moment before answering “yes, but I’m sure you can handle it”

You smiled at the compliment, but then heard one of the villager’s voice shout “ahí están!” And were met with several others coming your guy’s way, you both turned to each other and you tilted you head meaning you were ready to go, Luis nodded and took the lead, and you followed.

—

You two finally got through the trail after killing the ganados, Luis groaned and you turned to see if he was hurt, he looked annoyed and disgusted “something happen?” You asked, and he looked back at you “they got my jacket dirty” Luis said, you chuckled “we can clean it later” you told him.

“Y’know, usually I would’ve said ladies first but, we can’t risk getting your pretty face getting dirty”

“Such I gentlemen”

—

You two had been walking for a few minutes, about 20 minutes if you had to guess, you had started to feel a bit light headed, you assumed it would go away and it was just a small side effect from the plaga.

But I didn’t go away, and your head was feeling worse every second, so you decided to stop and stand for a while, give yourself a rest.

Luis was still walking as you didn’t have enough energy to say something, he was only a few steps away from you before you said “Luis” weakly

And he turned to look at you, before you collapsed and passed out, he was able to catch you in time before you could hit the dirt. “Mierda, hold on I’ve got you” he said, and got a hold of you so he could carry you.

—

He finally got to his laboratory and opened the door, the squeak of the door opening was able to wake you up, “oh good your awake” he said, you still felt like shit, Luis placed you on the chair before tapping the screen next to it.

“Okay, this is the procedure, se va a sentir horrible” he told you, “mhm, nomas apúrate, I already feel like shit” you replied.

He nodded and pressed the button on the screen and the machine began to move and you finally felt it happen.

It was absolutely terrible just like Luis said but you tried to stay awake, but immediately passed out again.

—

Finally what felt like forever for Luis, you woke up, blinking a few times, but you didn’t feel bad anymore, “Te sientes bien mi amor?” He asked, you smiled at the name and nodded “feel like a million bucks” you joked.

Luis chuckled, and he pulled away from the hug, you sat up on the edge of the chair “so, it’s gone now?” You asked, “yes” he replied, face began to inch closer to yours, tilted at a perfect angle for him to lean in and kiss you right then and there.

You were getting impatient by now, so you grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss, it was perfect, his hands placed on your hips as you wrapped one of your arms round his neck and the other was placed gently on his chest.

He was so passionate about it and you didn’t want it to end, if you guys weren’t in the situation you were in right now, you would’ve stayed there forever, you didn’t want to let go of him, not now, not when you were barley getting to feel his lips on yours.

He pulled away slowly, for the both of you to get some air, you opened your eyes immediately when he started to move away from you, you watched as he opened his eyes slowly, he looked almost as if he was drunk, but also so handsome.

“Y/n” you told him, “Que?” He asked, “my name, since you wanted to know so bad” you said.

He smiled, “so I was right, una chica hermosa tiene un nombre hermosa” he said, and you smiled back at him before grabbing his collar again and pulling him into another deep and long kiss, one that you would not be pulling away from any time soon.

#imagines #x reader stories #fluff #oneshot #luis serra navarro #luis serra x you #luis sera #luis serra #luis serra x reader #luis serra imagine

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victheclown · 2 months

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Paper Mario: The Origami King

Stationary Locked

An AU where Olly strives for more than just getting rid of all Toads.... And where he will use any means to achieve this.

(Story and Explanations under cut. Mind the tags for any potentially uspetting content, I'll try to tag it best I can.)

Stationary Locked starts very normal, like the actual game, with the only difference at the very beginning seemingly that Olivia gets folded a little later on. We will get to her later though....

Olly had put his original plan into motion. He was going to refold everything, getting rid of those who he believes wronged him, folding the world to his own mercy... And he was going to create his own Legionary to help him with this, using the tools of this own creator. And so, the Legion of Stationary came to be, brought to life and tasked with guarding the streamers. He knew someone would be coming for him soon. And he was not going to make it easy for him to get to him.

Shortly after he made the Mushroom Kingdom's castle his own, he folded who would be his knight, the one to follow him and his orders until the end... Olivia. Folding her with equal rage to make sure she UNDERSTOOD her task and would not back out. She was tasked to bring him paper beings, which would be refolded for his own army. And she did as she was told. She had no choice really - this was what she was made for herself. And a knight should follow their kings orders after all.

It was all going by plan. But it didn't feel like enough. He... Wanted more. Getting back at those Toads wasn't enough, he wanted the world to fold and bend before his mercy, He didn't just want to be a king... He wanted to be an emperor to all that paper had ever known.

... And when he noticed approaching threats, his trust in his Legion began to falter. Would they truly be up to their task? With how... Laughably not serious some of them were about this? No, this wasn't going to end the way he wanted, all because they failed to do their task properly, failed to use their powers to its fullest.

So what do you do when you don't have faith in your Legion? But you couldn't possibly get rid of them either, because even if incompetent, they still HAD power... Power that could be used through other means...

... Through his own means.

Using his only Legionary he knew would follow his orders to a letter - a Stapler - he crafted origami cages, one for each. And to make extra sure they wouldn't try to defy their own fate... The Stapler was tasked with reinforcing these cages. They would not be escaping this on his watch. They were his Legion, and he was going to bring out the fullest potential in them, and he was free to do so.

And once all preparations were said and done... He paid them all a visit. One by one.

Most of them hadn't had a single clue what was coming for them. A single deadly pierce of the sword was enough to force them into their Stationary Forms. That would make it most convenient to keep them around.

It was easy... Up until the end. By the last two, they have started to cast suspicion around their missing teammates already. And it seems at least his Lieutenant was able to prove some bit of competence... He figured out fast what his plan was, and for the sake of his team, his Legion, his friends... He could not let it keep going. And even if it meant going against his creator, and his very duty.... He was going to fight.

Because after all... Scissors always beats paper... Right?

... It was a single stupid mistake that caused him to not pay attention to his incoming attack. And then, it was all over. That was the last of them. With the Legion back in his hands, he instead put Folded Soldiers to the task of protecting the streamers. To any visiting adventurers, these areas now just felt... Off, and like someone else was supposed to be here. Now it was just... Something that was there, but no longer felt right. Something was missing.

But by this point, our Emperor had found that these Stationaries were indeed capable of so much more... But that also HE was capable of so much more. And it was as simple as magically linking himself to them... To simply fold into their form, to use their powers that way. It was so easy, but he felt so... Powerful. And the Legion was doing great too, encased in their new homes... If you watched closely, upon every use of one of their powers, it looks like cracks would form on the Stationary... But it wasn't concerning. Not concerning for Olly to rethink this at least.

They had their place now, with their Emperor, who would put their powers to good use, and put an end to whoever would try and oppose their new ruler.

The time for a new world, with a new ruler, using new tactics... Starts now.

#art #au #pmtok #paper mario #the origami king #alternate universe #PMTOK: STATIONARY LOCKED (AU)#cw: implied death #cw: implied abuse #do tell me if you feel im missing any warnings im genuinely terrible with this #been wanting to get something to it out for a while now but gjkdfsjgkld writing hard #but here it is! Stationary locked aka Stationaries suffer in this #they are not okay #i have a loooot to this actually its wild

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smoooothoperator · 6 months

Text

Save Your Tears

10: Lover

Driver! Mick Schumacher x opera singer! OC (Ophelia Becker)

Strangers to friends to lovers, love at first sight, long plane flight, personal drama, opera references

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: smut! (minors are not alowed, there's a sign)

a/n: well.... this is the end! I hope you guys liked this story!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Masterlist

previous part

Her heart was bumping hard against her rib cage, even her breathing was getting difficult.

No matter how warm the car was, she was feeling so sick at that moment that she thought she was going to pass out.

Only his hand was the way of keeping her awake, holding it on her lap while he brushed his thumb over her knuckles. She paid attention to the music that was playing softly through the speakers, making her smile when she recognized it.

"Opera?" she smiled looking at him.

"Yeah, just… want to get used to it" he smiled softly.

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

He nodded and smiled looking at her for a few seconds. Even sick she looks wonderful, even if her makeup is blurry she looks absolutely beautiful.

When they arrived at his house he got out first, running to her side and helping her to get out. She was pale and shaking, sniffling softly and smiling weakly at him.

"Go take a shower, okay?" Mick said, opening the front door immediately. "I'll cook something warm for you"

"Thank you" she smiled.

Ophelia walked towards the bedroom and grabbed clean clothes, wanting to get rid of that dress as soon as possible and get inside the shower. The cold was getting stuck in her bones and it was already making her nauseous.

"You can stay in the shower as much time as you need" Mick said when he saw her walk towards the bathroom.

"Yeah" she nodded.

She looked at him, how he smiled at her. Mick already changed his clothes, those joggers and hoodie look very comfortable and warm.

"C-can I have your clothes?" she asked, biting her lip. "Please?"

He chuckled and walked closer towards her, pressing his lips on her forehead. It's warm.

"Get in the shower" he whispered softly.

She sighed nodding, closing her eyes when he pressed his lips on her forehead again.

"Get in with me" she asked.

"What?" he smiled, trying to contain a chuckle. "Eager, are we?"

"I… they say body heat can help" she mumbled, blushing. "And you were under the rain too, I'm sure you'll get sick too…"

She felt his chest moving, hearing his soft laugh and how he wrapped his arms around her, bringing her closer to his body.

Thinking about what she just asked him made her blush. Did she really ask him to take a shower with her? Both of them naked, under the water? Is she insane or what? Maybe the fever is taking control of her thoughts…

"Let me grab clothes and I'll join you, okay?" he whispered, somehow his voice was now lower making her feel shivers again. "Get in the water, don't wait for me"

"O-okay" she mumbled.

She opened the door of the bathroom and closed it, taking a deep breath. The reflection of the mirror showed her how her cheeks were red as tomatoes, making her shake her head.

"You idiot" she groaned.

She started the shower, making sure the water was warm for her and for Mick, and whirl waiting for it to get in the perfect temperature she started to get undressed.

Somehow she looked down at her body, ashamed. What would he think about her? For sure he met models that were prettier that her, his life is full of luxurious things.

"Stop it" she sighed, taking off the dress and leaving it on the floor, as well as her underwear.

The warm water hit her skin and she sighed, her body shaking violently with the change of temperature. It was relieving, making all the muscles of her body relax, but the feeling of having something heavy on her chest didn't disappear yet.

"Ophelia?"

She took a deep breath and hummed softly, closing her eyes. Mick is inside the bathroom and he for sure can see her, which made her tense.

"I'm coming, okay?" he said after getting undressed. "Is it okay?"

"Yeah, yeah…" she whispered.

She felt cold air for some seconds and then the warmth of his body behind her.

God, how could she put herself in this situation? They only kissed And now take a shower together?

"Turn around" he asked her, but she only closed her eyes tighter. "Ophelia, let me see you…"

"What if you don't like what you see?" she asked. "What if I'm not how you expected?"

"What are you talking about?" he chuckled softly, placing his hands on her shoulders and making her turn around.

"No please!" she gasped, freezing in her place. "Just… turn off the lights, please. I… God, this is so awkward, I don't know what I was thinking earlier"

"Hey, it's okay" Mick chuckled. "Don't worry, yeah? I'm going to get out, grab some candles so we won't be completely in the dark and then I'll turn off the lights. Does it sound good?"

"Yeah…"

Mick smiled, kissing the back of her head before getting out of the shower and grabbing the bath robe that was hanging in the back of the door. He knows his mom placed candles somewhere just to decorate the house, so he only spent a few minutes trying to find them.

When he walked back inside the bathroom he smiled when he saw her under the water. The screen wasn't fully transparent, but he could still see her figure through it.

She's beautiful, the most beautiful woman he ever met, and the fact that he will share an intimate moment like taking a shower with her, makes him even happier.

He placed the candles around the bathroom, making sure that there was a soft and intimate lighting there but not enough to fully see, just the necessary.

"Is it okay?" he asked after turning off the lights.

"Yeah, thank you" he heard her mumble, making him smile while he took off the robe and get back in the shower.

She was under the water, hugging herself and trying to hide her own body from him, or trying to keep the warmth for herself.

"Turn around" he tried to ask again, and when he saw her sigh and drop her arms to her sides, he smiled.

The light of the candles was enough to see her. He could see her curves, her figure, how the water ran like a waterfall down her chest, how her hair was stuck to her shoulders and chest, hiding half of the shell of her breasts.

"You are so beautiful, Ophelia" he whispered, getting closer to her. "Can I hold you now?"

She looked up at him, feeling the warmth his body radiated to her, and nodded. She needed his warmth, the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. For a second she forgot they were naked, that she could feel all of him and that he could feel all of her.

The moment he wrapped his arms around her she let out soft gasp, making him chuckle and kiss her shoulder. The hand on her nape placed her head on his shoulder, keeping her close to him while both of them let the water fall down their bodies.

"How does it feel?" he whispered in her ear, rubbing her back softly.

"Good" she whispered, feeling goosebumps run all over her skin, wrapping her arms around his waist and placing her hands on his shoulder blades. "Really good"

"Yeah? I'm glad" he smiled.

He closed his eyes, resting his cheek on her temple and brushing her hair with his fingers. This is everything he wanted, have her this close. Is this a dream? Feeling her breathing on his chest, her body on his and her fingers tracing fingers on his back is everything he wanted right now.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked. "Is the water at a good temperature? Do you need it hotter?"

"No, it's perfect this way" she whispered. "This is perfect, just don't stop"

She pressed her lips on his skin a few times, leaving soft kisses there and then upper, making a path of kisses from his shoulder to his jaw. Mick smiled, holding her even closer and looked down at her while opening his eyes.

"Hi" she smiled looking into his eyes.

"I like this smile" he said, making her blush while he cupped her cheek with the hand he had on her nape. "It reaches your eyes"

She smiled softly, leaning on his touch and looking at him. She kissed softly the palm of his hand making her chuckle.

"I really love you, Ophelia" he whispered. "Only you, no one else"

She smiled softly, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips on his, pulling him towards her even more.

They kissed slowly, moving their lips with a perfect synchrony that made both of them sigh. There's no sexual intentions, no sensual touches. That's just a show of pure love for each other.

"I love you too" she whispered on his lips, feeling how he smiled and kissed her again.

They chuckled softly and parted their lips, looking into each other's eyes before Ophelia rested her head on his chest again.

"I'm hungry" she whispered.

"Then let's get out of here and make something for lunch" Mick said, rubbing her back when he felt her nod.

When he stopped the water she sighed, holding him tighter and making him chuckle softly, kissing her head. She took a deep breath before pulling away, blushing when she noticed his body.

"You are staring" Mick chuckled.

"Fuck off" she laughed nervous, looking away from his abs and trying her best to not look lower.

She grabbed her clean clothes and smiled when she saw a pile of his clothes next to her underwear. He placed them there for her?

"You said you wanted my clothes" he smiled, standing behind her.

"Thank you" she smiled, drying her body with a towel and wrapping another one on her hair.

Mick smiled looking at her, at her body. She's so wonderful, he really wants her to be his, to be his lover.

He dried himself too, getting dressed back on his clothes and wearing clean underwear. Ophelia's back is facing him, making him smile softly knowing that she doesn't want him to look at her, even if they just shared a shower together.

"What do you want for lunch?" he asked her. "I'll cook it"

"I really don't mind" she said. "But something warm…"

"Okay" he smiled, kissing her naked shoulder softly, making her flinch.

He looked down at her with a smile before he walked out of the bathroom, taking a deep breath and trying to adjust the bulge of his boxers making sure it wasn't too obvious.

Does he know models? Yeah. Did he try to forget Stephanie by having a night with some models? Yeah, he's human. But he never saw a model as beautiful as Ophelia.

Maybe it's because he's in love with her, but he really believes that he never saw someone as beautiful as her. He never saw Stephanie naked, only in a bikini during some trips the friends spent together at the beach. But neither is comparable to Ophelia. He tried to fight his own primal instincts and his own desire to not make her uncomfortable.

But God, he wants her. He wants her how he never wanted a woman. He wanted to show her his love, to worship every inch of her body and take her to his bed, a place no one else was before. He wants to kiss her at the light of the moon and touch her, hold her close.

"Do you need help?" he heard her ask behind him.

He hummed, looking back at her. She's wearing his clothes, his hoodie with his driver number on it and his joggers.

"You look even more beautiful now" he said, looking at her.

"Right, you did it on purpose?" she said shyly, touching the number that lies on her chest.

"Maybe" he smirked.

She smiled weakly, sighing and looking at him. His back was facing her, his hair was still wet and the sudden need of running her fingers over his golden locks came to her, making her step closer and wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her chin on his shoulder.

"What are you making for lunch?" she whispered, smiling when she felt his wet hair on her temple.

"My mom left cooked food in the freezer" he explained. "She came to my house to take care of Angie while I was away"

"Mhm… it smells nice" she said, closing her eyes, smelling what looks like soup.

"It does, right?" he chuckled, enjoying the feeling of her arms wrapped on his waist and her hands inside the pocket of his hoodie.

She nodded and stayed there, wrapping Mick with her arms and looking how the home cooked lunch was getting ready.

"Mick… what are we going to do?" he heard her whisper.

He sighed and bit his lip, placing his free hand inside the pocket of the hoodie and holding her hands.

What are they going to do? What are they? What is going to happen to them?

"I don't know" he whispered. "I just… I just want you. I want to hold you, to kiss you… all the time. You invaded my dreams the last few days and I only know that I don't want you to leave them ever. I love you, Ophelia. I don't know how, I don't know when it happened but I don't regret feeling this way, I don't regret falling in love with you"

She took a deep breath and held his hand between hers, rubbing his skin softly and breathing his scent.

"I want that too" she whispered. "I… I found you, I think that I found what love is and I don't want to let go of that feeling. I think it was because you were with me while grieving, that you held me when I needed it the most and the fact that you still do…"

"I don't deserve you" he sighed. "After what I did, I don't deserve you at all"

"You said it… she kissed you" Ophelia whispered. "Just… forget about her. Please. I know she was your friend, but she clearly didn't want you as a friend…"

Mick smiled weakly. Somehow what she said about Stephanie starts making sense. All those times she wanted to go to the races, to walk with him inside the paddock making sure photographers saw her. All those times she never said no when he wanted to pay for dinner, all those trips, all those birthday gifts…

"I know" he sighed. "Now I can see it… I was so blind loving her that I didn't see how she really was…"

Ophelia pressed a soft his on his cheek, hiding her face on his neck afterwards. Being that close to him feels right, being with him feels right.

"I want you to be mine" he whispered. "I want to know how it feels being loved… I want to know how it feels being able to show my love to someone"

"I want to be yours" she whispered. "I would love to be yours"

Mick smiled, turning around. The food was already cooked, it can wait to be eaten. He looked at her with a smile while he cupped her cheeks with his hands.

He pressed his lips on hers, starting with short kisses that slowly became deeper, passionate. The need to touch her started to increase, and the bulge inside his pants was impossible to control anymore.

"I'll never stop telling you how beautiful you are" he whispered against her lips, pressing her body closer to his, making her gasp after feeling his boner.

"Then don't" she sighed, finally burying her fingers in his hair, pulling it softly making him moan and nibble her bottom lip.

Their kiss started to get more and more passionate, their tongues were exploring each other's mouths, their teeth crashed trying to find out who will dominate the makeout session.

But it wasn't enough. A kiss on their lips was not enough, they needed more. They needed to kiss every inch of their bodies, discover new places.

Slowly, his hands made their way to her thighs stopping for a few seconds on her ass, and when she felt his hands holding her, she jumped feeling how he wrapped her legs around his waist.

He chuckled softly, making her giggle and look him in the eyes. There's no lust, no bad intentions. Only love and pure feelings. Just what she feels right now.

He placed her slowly on his bed, making her lay on her back and resuming the makeout session while his hands started to discover her body under his hoodie.

She already felt aroused after the shower and now that she has him the way she wants, it's making her even more excited about what will happen.

"Can I take off your clothes?" he whispered, pulling away and searching for a confirmation.

"Those are your clothes" she joked. "You can do whatever you want with them"

He laughed softly and started to take them off, starting for the hoodie. The moment he raised it above her chest he couldn't help but lean on her.

"No bra?" he whispered, kissing her abdomen and trailing soft kisses on her skin.

"If you were a girl you would understand" she moaned, burying her fingers in his hair again and watching how his lips were getting closer and closer to where she wanted them to be.

"I won't complain about your choice" he said, cupping her right breast while kissing the skin of her left one.

She moaned, feeling his tongue and teeth and hearing him groan while he closed his eyes.

It was like her entire body was made for him. Her breast found a perfect place on his hands and his hips found a perfect place between her legs. He's where he belongs. And he wouldn't change it for nothing.

She felt his hips grinding her, pressing his boner deeper where she needed him the most, making her core drench her panties in a way she never imagined.

His free hand traveled down her abdomen, making her shiver imagining what he will do next, feeling his hand untie the knot on the joggers and pulling them down slowly.

There's no rush, they have all the time they want. But the way his hand touches her skin makes her need grow.

"Please…" she moaned, arching her back and trying to raise her hips and find some kind of friction.

"I know, I know" he whispered, looking at her while he gave attention to the other breast, earning a moan from her again.

He pulled down her joggers along with her panties, and once he felt how warm and wet she was, he moaned on her nipple making her gasp.

She was wet, his finger soaked after rubbing her folds, making his boner ache even more.

"I need you inside me, Mick… please" she whispered, making her look at her and press his lips on her. "I'm on the pill, please…"

He didn't waste any second and stopped kissing her, getting undressed with her help. And once he was fully naked, he couldn't help but look at her.

There she was, naked on his bed, with the skin of her breasts glistering and marked by him and her legs spread for him, ready to take him and finally sealing their love.

"You are so beautiful" he whispered, lowering on her and entering her warm hole slowly, moaning as he felt how she welcomed his length inside of her. "So perfect"

"Mick…" she moaned, feeling how he was filling her, how he was becoming one with her, holding her hand and intertwining their fingers.

There was no rush in his thrusts, the way their bodies moved in sync and welcoming every wave of pleasure was everything they needed in that moment. He was filling her and she was keeping him warm.

She cried out his name every time he touched her deepest zone, he repeated her name like a mantra next to her while he pressed soft kisses on her shoulder and neck.

It was a pure show of love, the perfect way of showing each other's feelings without saying a word about it.

When he felt her walls clenching him and she felt him throwing inside of her, he looked at her with a smile, her warm hand cupping his cheek with adoration in her eyes.

"I love you" he whispered, feeling his body getting weak while he released inside of her, emptying himself and giving her everything he has.

"I love you too" she said back, moaning and clenching him harder, releasing around him after she felt his warm seed painting her walls.

He kissed her again, slowly and with patience while he pulled out of her. He gave her one last kiss before getting up and getting in the bathroom, cleaning himself and grabbing something to clean her.

"Thank you" she smiled, cleaning between her legs and sighing, feeling how he laid next to her.

She smiled softly, laying next to him and facing him, holding his hand and looking at their hands.

"I love you, Ophelia Becker" he whispered, looking at their hands too.

"I love you too, Mick Schumacher" she smiled, getting closer to him and hiding her face on his warm chest.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @lorarri @musingsbyshreya @vellicora @rileynicol3 @generalnav @kakorrhaphiphobia

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hero-next-door · 1 month

Text

Defending Nathan

(From Every Accusation)

All fact proven & common sense theory

No bullshit.

I suck at grammar. Deal with it.

I've replayed the game far too many times to gather this. I read into everything and even read into and WATCHED people who have suffered the same mental illness and situations Nathan has been in.

What I'll be covering:

Illness, rib breaking, dead animals, bdsm, Chloes pic, Rachel, gun on campus, Kate, Pompidou, Jefferson, wealth and his father.

And dont even THINK about skiping ahead!

Everything here is tied into one another. Read from start to finish. You're on this post to understand right? Or to argue? Im not here to argue so, bye.

Lets start from the top...

Nathans downfall was caused by society and all who failed him. He's driven by hatred of others who don't understand him and the game purposly wrote him off that way. They want players to hate him from what sides of the stories we've experienced. They gave this character controversial hobbies and a cynical bully attitude to really keep you suspecting him and not guessing Jefferson. The game isn't about Nathan. Its about Max. We learn so much about Max and everyone close to her. The tears they shed, the pains they've endorsed. Same with Chloe and Rachel's story. My heart goes out to all of them. We don't get to see that with other characters, therefore we don't care for them...or that's the games intentions. We don't know the ins and outs of Nathan. Only what the game shows us which are all negative. So of course disliking Nathan is only reasonable.

Mental Illness

We start with mental illness. He has Psychosis. Lots of proof, but i'm assuming you've seen it all already. Do people know what Psychosis is? Like do they REALLY know what it is? Because this ALONE changes everything. And not Psychopathy ..Psychosis. Two different things pookie. Psychopathy is the one where part of the brain is missing or disturbed. THEY'RE the ones that don't have empathy. Psychosis is different. Anybody can get it. This illness can take your empathy and awarness away then bring it all back after the harm is done, leaving you to process that. Schizo and Bipolar are also all quite a handful to deal with too. Loud Noises/downgrading voices in your head SO LOUD that people will do anything to calm them. (Dont be shy, youtube: "28- Psychotic Episode" by Collège d'Alma) The feeling of loosing your mind is something I notice a lot of haters dont empathize on especially if they killed or hurt sombody. The brain slips into a state so disconnected that interviews with recovering patients I've seen describe it as confusing and scary and dont recall saying the stories they told and actions they did others. Imagine not being able to remember the hurtful things you've said and done. Imagine being told you killed sombody...with your own hands? And you can hardly remember what happened. Like... how would you react? Think about it. Anybody can get psychosis with enough trauma or a kick in the noggin. Some people that were interviewed that had psychosis said that they found relief when getting high or drunk. Little did they know the symptoms could bounce back up to 5x during withdraw. But they were so desperate to get rid of the voices they abused the drugs. Like....wow the game really did their research to create such a complicated character. Anyway..moving on.

Now lets break down everything else...

Shooting Chloe

Just rewatch it. Aims gun, Chloe pushes him, it tightens grip, ACCIDENTLY shoots her, immediately drops gun and gets really scared of he's done, checking to see if shes alive! If you specifically rewatch the ending of Lis1 when Chloe gets shot, they extend his reaction. He goes back and forth checking her body. If he wanted to kill her, you check pulse then run. Not sticking around crying about it. There's your empathy you're all saying he doesnt have. Other times where he could have showed more empathy ties with his Psychosis. Some people with the illness said that the voices loudly in their head will convince them that everyone around you is your enemy. Everyone is after you. It can twist your brain to feel anger and fear towards others. Nathan is always hung up on how everyone is using him and trying to control him. Which people ..DO use him. So now hes convinced that everyone is. He's not choosing to feel this way. He just needs psychiatric help.

Breaking Ribs

In Before The Storm his entire demeanor is completely different than the Lis 1. He's more cowardly and not loud and aggressive. We'll be mentioning his creepy "pervy" binder, later. Nathan isn't violent until the end IF you let Nathan get bullied and push his life the negative direction. Sure its not Chloe's responsibility but this is the game's way of showing you his downfall. We need to remember the game hides scenes and expect you to make up what happened behind the scenes. He broke Samantha's ribs over ..what? Shes always so desperate to defend Nathan and even gets upset with Chloe when she doesn't help. So if you tell her the wrong option to pressure kindness into Nathan it results in him breaking ribs. How though? Haters immediately hop on and say cause hes a mean and abusive non-empathic nut head. You sure he didnt just push her away and her clumsiness just fell over? This took place after the play...so he possibly...pushed her off... 😰 She did say she was clumsy. You don't think she wouldnt have tried to hug or touch him in anyway. Ok ok...calm down... lets take a step back.. You get this "breaking ribs" ending from letting Nathan get bullied and embarrass himself during the play that his father pressured him about! Adding a little "..fuck you.." to the audience. Showing his start to his villian career and the start of him hating everyone and you tell Samantha to go hug him!? This is the start of his mental spiral if you let things play out this way. But hurting her with intention? No. Lets tie this in with the other endings to their relationship. You get the clumsy ending. She hurts herself differently and Nathan is with her in the hospital. Saying how he feels bad that she got hurt. (empathy bell) And they continue yo talk about her photo or whatever. Tie this with the rib one, tie this with the Chloe getting shot incident and tie this with his mental illness. Come on do i gotta spell it out for you.. Hurting someone is not what he attends to do. Like he quotes in his voice mail. (Speaking of that voice mail, empathy bell.) He does get angry at Samantha and hurts her and we as players dont know the full story. But what was playing in his head seconds before and the entirety of the game that lead up to this IS the reason why he accidentally hurts her. His anger from the entire game waa built up and unfortunately released on her. Whatever happened, breaking her ribs was not on his todo list! And then we have.. The good ending. Him sitting beside her smiling. Oh wait! Hes a little psycho with no human emotion? Psychosis has all parts of the brain attached, pookie. For most cases, It can be cured and helped. I can get it, YOU can get it. He has human emotions when he is at his very rare peaceful moments like with this good ending, when with Victoria ig and other scenes we tend to forget. Because painting him as the villian was the games goal. Jefferson was the plot twist.

Daddy Issues, Smug talk and a Gun on campus

Simple guys. Simple. You represent this school. You represent our name. This is a legacy. You will not embarrass me. This isn't about you or your problems!

Sure YOU wouldn't crumble under that pressure but Nathan sure did. Sure child abuse isn't an excuse to "kill" people. But is it the child's fault? Sean-beanbag prescott should be arrested for not taking his boy to the asylum. Instead he argues with a doctor!? Goofy bro. But so many people are fueled with anger towards Nathan Instead. Its whatever. Prescott literally being his name was already a red flag to other characters and chose to hate and bully him over it. Drew hated for what his FATHER did. Nathan did ..what again? Notice how that "rich Malfoy talk" wasnt really present in Before The Storm. Sure he tried to burn Drew with a family financial situation insult but the "Im rich, my father owns everything, I got a lawyer, money this and that" wasn't in his character in the Before the Storm. I believe being a prescott wasn't really in his future goals and he wasnt ever really passionate about it. Its all in the annoyance in his tone with his father before the play. Lis1 he uses it so oftenly to show that hes the boss and in control. Hes Influenced by representation for his family/school, wealth, intimidation, and of course hatred and believing everyone hates him. In his mind everyone is against him, after him and wanting to use him. Again, he doesn't choose to think this way. Let me explain my last sentence clearly though. Imagine being surrounded by a ton of people. All their attention is on you. They hate who you are. They talk about you. You have a defensless stomach sinking feeling and scared because all these people surrounding you, are looking at you and all your insecurities and laughing at you. Well..obviously some of that is not going on in reality. But to Nathan, that IS his reality and he has no control over it. Anyways I shouldn't have to keep explaining mental illness and how it stresses the brain. Bottom line is, His status and waving a gun around is what he thinks keep others out of his head. He can barley throw a punch. He had to use his head on warren and did you catch when Max hit him in that scene? Dude was literally holding onto his face like he'd been battered. Like she did NOT hit that hard lmao. He's weak. He's always been the same tiny Nathan from before the storm. Just now he uses masks for intimidation to stop his bullies and anyone he thinks is "after him." He never meant to use a gun on anybody, just a threat. During the second scene where warren reunited a head butt with Nathan.. If you pull off warren, he barley even aims the gun when he ran away towards his room. Cowardly. He feels that he has to, to protect himself. He also uses his father as a threat, but clearly that never worked. Also notice him crying when you let Warren get crazy on him? Dudes apologizing and sobing? Guess thats not his first rodeo, rip.

BDSM and Dead Animals

Ok..so hes a little frisky. Y'all need to remember this is a fictional game first, okay? Lol Anyway, I can't defend him much here but I got something. Firstly, the game WANTS you to suspect Nathan. Can't keep his room pretty and pink, they have to make it freaky and spooky. They paint Nathan as the villian for you to only focus on him as a suspect. So that everyones jaws are dropped with Jefferson twirls in.

Well start with the dead animals so you can skip the BDSM part if you want.

There is no proof he hurt animals. Thats not really like him. He does have a list of illness but Psychopathy isn't one of them. Y'all can keep yappin but its not. Clearly NOT one of them. He could have hurt an animal during an unaware episode, but there will not be any awareness behind it. Anyways, there are plenty of artists that do the same thing. Nathan is very passionate about photography and protraying solitary but not in the same way Jefferson does. Jefferson certainly uses that manipulation but we'll get to that later. There are artists that like to shine on death in positive light and in sorrow. There's also beauty in anatomy. Not my cup of tea but someone close to me can name me all kinds of gross organs and would be down to disect any animal. Yuck. But to them.. its fascinating and they are the greatest person in my life. In love and in empathy. (NOT comparing my pookie to Nathan, PAUSE.) In anatomy theres Education and surprise. Death is also a theme and style too. Skulls and gore, super "rad" fukin "knarly."

BDSM Skip to next part if needed

Finally...defending BDSM? This can bring trauma to those who have experienced it negativly or view it negativly. So skip to the Frank defense or read more if you want.

Bdsm relationships are very controversial. Some people see it as unhealthy, abusive and sick. But if you have talked to or listened to other people within these relationships they state that its completely consensual, safe, harmless, a breach of deep trust with their partners and simply a fetish or kink. The goal is to have fun at your limit..not pass the limit. There are twisted people who have broke that barrier and made it not fun and abusive. Thats were I can't argue. If you feel that way towards the topic, I completly empathize with you.

Nathan has shown in his other photos a black and white theme of solitary. And you can tell that he might have took those bdsm photos himself. As the quality is almost like the Pompidou photo. Everyone blends him taking bdsm photos with is angry behavior and "non empathic" demeanor. But this is where I loop back to Before The Storm hugging-my-binder Nathan. Its shown that in one of his endings he took photos of Samantha. Obviously NOT bdsm photos, his binder was a school project. But Samantha obviously consented and Nathan was passionate enough to show her. He sees them as art. Naked girls have been models for sculptures and paintings. Its beauty. Thats IF she was naked in some way in those photos. Which I still doubt. School project. Im sure the photos were gentle and strange and misunderstood and Drew was just in his bully era. His reaction would have been a lot more eye opening if he had a face full of tits or straps. Nathan begged for his binder back and even nervously reacted showing he had love for his work and 'took time with it' (as he quotes when Drew throws it). I bring this up here to show that the women in his photos were indeed given consent and if hes passionate about depicting his art, hurting them wouldn't be on his agenda. As we all learned today that hurting people was never his intentions, until drugs and illness met with pressure and intimidation clouds his brain.

I read up on other artists that painted things similar. In their paintings they expressed dread, vulnerability, feeling traped and ..feeling used. If Nathan did find the images he took arousing, then why would he hang them up like everything else in his room like art? I believe that they're depicted in an artful way and in its black and white shading brings a sad darkness. If its anything like the painters I mentioned, maybe Nathan has a deep level of empathy we don't understand.

Frank and Pompidou

I didn't even know he took a picture of Franks hurt dog in the road because you little freaks threw his treat in the street!? This will also tie in to chloes pic but we'll get to that. Frank first, as its pretty simple. Nathan runs some system with frank. And its pretty obvious its the same thing Drew was doing in Before the storm. Nathan clearly doesn't like it as he finds it controling but getting his hands on drugs is a great way to forget his flaws and calm his illness symptoms. Which only created a loop of his symptoms worsening, as talked about before. His illness is very active towards the end of Before the Storm. You can tell by his huge character difference that drugs only made it worse.

Pompidou is a good dog but just remember he's not the one who hurt him. This ties in with what we explained in the dead animal phase. The Imagine is black and white. Its a strange art most people don't understand. Man, I don't even understand it. But these people aren't heartless and they're simply expressing pain. Or..he took it for the same reason he took Chloes pic. To feel that hes in control, thinking this will help his mental reality of thinking everyone can use him, as explained earlier. But i doubt it. One is in color and Pompidou is not. One is misguided and one is "art."

Jefferson, Rachel, Kate, Chloes pic

If i see one more person throw him in the same trash bin as Jefferson im going to puke. Anyway I've twisted my head around this story so many times, begging to see the bigger picture. No pun attended. Jefferson was pulling the strings all along ..you know that right? If Nathan was never there, Jefferson would have still done his disgusting projects. He certainly brought Victoria over without Nathan's usage. He didn't need Nathan, Nathan just made it easier cause he can easily be manipulated. Making Nathan do it all so the consequences will fall on him. Jefferson is smart and knows the right words to say. Nathan is missing the kindness of a father figure, all he has to do is play with his feelings. Nathan falls too easily to kindness. He felt the kindness of Samantha during the good ending and He felt the kindness from Victoria..but Victoria toxic bully nature wasn't helping. Bottom line is Jefferson easily manipulated him and understood his mental reality and used that against him. Adding thoughts into Nathans head. Jefferson learned to use Nathan's illness to his advantage. Nathan trusted Jefferson as did everyone in that school did. Why on earth would Jefferson wrong him? He looked up to him so when Jefferson slowly brought him into his plans of drugging girls, Nathan thought that it was all ..moral. In reality you and I know obviously thats not okay but to Nathan (and his severe illness) he trusted Jefferson was doing no wrong. We don't understand the mental strain he was under, manipulation goes a long way. Heres how he did it. He probaby said things like 'We are the same Nathan, this is art just like yours.' It starts small, Nathan gets him the drugs. Then he pulls him in, Nathan start drugging the girls for me. Start driving them here. Start helping me inside the dark room. Start helping me inject my victims. Jefferson had so much power over him. He was connected with his father. He can threaten his grade, his representation and his future in art. He knew all the right things to say and do. He knew how his head worked. Clog him up with drugs, keep him quiet. Heal his missing father needs and demand him for your needs. Does this not make Nathan a victim too?

Then ...the Rachel incident happened. Nathan was NOT mentally aware of what he's done. The excited "Rachel!" when he saw Max at the diner clearly shows that he truly expected her to pull up. This mixes with the symptoms we've discussed. He only remembers bits and pieces as obviously it was beyond traumatizing. Sending him in an insane spiral and the infamous psychosis drawing. (Don't be afraid, google psychosis drawings. Damn. Just imagine you recovered from psychosis and laying eyes on that and not remembering you drew that..ugh...I'd cry.) Someone with Psychopathy wouldnt feel traumatized from such events, debunking the fact everyone thinks Nathan has Psychopathy. He doesn't have Psychopathy, he has psychosis. Moving on. Jefferson was certainly angry with him and drugged Nathan himself after the incident which really helped Nathan to forget what he's done. But Jefferson's anger and not talking to him tore him apart. His emotional attachment clearly wasn't having it. The note he wrote Jefferson in desperate attempt to bring him back after ruining Jefferson plans goes to show just how much he wants that sense of being cared for. If only it was someone else that wasnt Jefferson ..or his dad can do is fucking job too.

Alcohol was certainly a great method of forgetting what he did. So then comes Chloes interaction with him. We know the story. He did not SA her, I can say that right here and now. Nothing like that was behind this. You can tell by the way Chloe presented the story to Max, there wasn't an uncomfortable tone to her story. She didn't seem traumatized but more shocked and "it was pretty crazy." She also wasn't drugged for that long, she woke up very soon, fully clothed. What obviously happened is that Nathan used this to feel in control like mentioned way above. Drugs and Psychosis is no joke. Who knows what hell is playing in his mind but I unfortunately believe that this was to try to win back Jefferson. He had been angry at him and ignoring him and even tho he hates drugging, his confusion and drunk state led him to this. He's cowardly and his mind is slipping and tries to do what he thinks is right for him. He's misguided and lead down the wrong path.

Nathan did not SA Kate! Kate story breaks my heart into a million pieces but if she was SA-ed, it wasn't Nathan. After everything I said above you can tell that, that isnt in his character. But here I want bring up the voicemail. Nathan claims multiple times that he never wanted to hurt anybody, implying that he felt forced to do harm. Something he DID NOT want to do. Why on earth would anybody have felt forced to SA somebody!? I'm not saying Kate WASN'T SA-ed as I can only assume maybe the boys she was shown with in the video did something or Jefferson. Victoria was Kates bully!!! Nathan wanted to be liked by Victoria and was influenced by her nature. He's desperate for attention and kindness. Victoria did far more to hurt Kate and her reason as to why was shit. You go THAT FAR to one up your photography game. Girl, bye. She spread that video and she still has empathy too? Her regretting everything? Did she reallyy regret? Or she wanted to make herself look good for her representation? She showed regret via text message in Before The Storm too? She doesn't have a mental illness but the game gave her an act of forgiveness and used her as a victim so the audience will sympathize with her. Goes to show you the game controls what they want you to feel. If they were to do that with Nathan..would opinons be different? Taking us into his mind and how he sees the world around him. They could have..but didnt. Well.. We have the voicemail but obviously that didnt stop the haters. It's unfortunate. But the game gave me just enough little clues for me to shine light on in this post. They put so much into his character but never showed the audience the truth.

Conclusion

What we've learned today is that Nathan isn't the villian you think. He's been manipulated, used and needs mental help but im sure my old Nathan-defending friends have said this time and time again. Im here to add something....

Its been PROVEN that he's capable of all human emotions, you just refuse to believe it because you're mistaking his illness and claiming all of this was intentional. Psychosis can be temporary. Its a like a hand that steals your common sense, feelings, empathy, sympathy and you're only left with acting on pure chaos and negative or fearful emotions. After long treatment your sense of reality returns, your feelings, your empathy, your sympathy.. And all you have now is guilt and regret and self blame that you hurt somebody. If you let Nathan kill Chloe, he is arrested. He had doctors aware of his illness and would have been charged with illness in mind. Forcing the treatment he needed ages ago. By the time Lis 2 came out...I wonder how he's taking it all in? What he did to everyone, what he did to Rachel.

He was written off to die, be locked up and blamed. Unfortunately he was caught in the crossfires of the harm of our favorite characters. If he was born in a different family and away from Jeff, he would have never hurt anybody. Matter a fact, he would never have suffered with his listed mental illnesses.

This goes out to all real accidental murder cases. There will always be a great divide in opinions. I hate comparing fictional games with real life but I find it crazy that we call others nonempathtic when they aren't empathic themselves. Its like the word "accidental" is worthless.

Its always a debate..

Do we feel bad for the lives lost and their families

Do we feel bad for the mental crumble of the one who never meant to kill and how their familes have to deal with that.

Are they worthy to walk this earth? Are they worthy to see the daylight again? Are they still human too? Should they die too? Is redemption possible?

Who knows. Peoples opinions wont change unless them, themselves fall onto the opposing team. If they were to suffer the chaos of accidentally murdering someone or the greif of loosing someone from an accidental murder.

#nathanprescott #nathan prescott #life is strange #life is strange before the storm #life is strange nathan #Life is strange nathan prescott #Defending nathan #Defending nathan prescott #Redeeming nathan prescott #grahamscott #Warrenxnathan #Scottfield #mental health #mental illness

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