#??? Not sure I can consider them OCs but WHATEVER

[dnd-writes]

Trials and Tribulations

AO3

Tags: non-con, BFH, I somehow wrote this in 3 hours, what is 'edit', Jeewon, unnamed OC, forced free use, manipulating, groping, painal

A/N: Saw a Jeewon post on KPF and thought of something to write, laid down and wanted to write a few paragraphs before getting back up to go play or whatever, next thing I know I wrote the whole thing already more or less. Consider this as a spiritual successor to Boulevard of Broken Dreams BUT BUT BUT only in that it has somewhat of a similar premise, it is way way way waaaaay more tame and casual (aside from one painal scene) in terms of detail than BBD. Anyway, enjoy!

Cignature’s manager walks into the room and sees Jeewon just getting off her knees, he sees her bend forward, her butt pushes out towards him putting a smile on his face. She brushes her knees clean of dirt then fixes her skirt. As she turns around towards him, he sees a complete contrast to the clean and clothed look of her ass—her bare chest and face covered in cum. 

He looks over her shoulder and sees a middle-aged businessman on a chair, totally exhausted, one of the company’s investors. “She’s wonderful, isn't she?” says the manager to which the only reply he gets is a nod and two thumbs up. “I’ll be taking her away now.”

Jeewon heads out then the manager catches up with her and gets to her side. He puts a hand on her hip to pull her close to him so he can whisper into her ear. “Have one of the girls go clean you up. Haven’t fucked that ass in quite some time.” He smacks her ass as a signal for her to get going. “Be quick, I’ll be waiting, you know where to find me.”

—————

Yep, that’s Jeewon. You’re probably wondering how she ended in that situation. 

How does an innocent, voluptuous, and cheerful woman suddenly become the company’s cash cow? Well it all started when C9 Entertainment noticed a rather peculiar influx of attention. The attention wasn’t mainly on their sole girl group Cignature but rather it was targeted mostly at the company itself. 

They quickly traced it back to an interview that one Jeewon, one of Cignature’s members, did where the interviewer talked about her body, indirectly referring to her chest which she covered at the time the question was asked. Rather than addressing the situation and protecting their own artist, they instead embraced it. After all, as the saying goes, “Any publicity is good publicity.” Which goes true the more people talk about the clip. 

Now all that was left for C9 Entertainment to do was to capitalize on the attention and they found their solution from none other than the infamous interview itself—Waterbomb, well, a festival similar enough to Waterbomb that is. 

The announcement was controversial enough on its own but it was nothing compared to what Jeewon wore at the event. They put her in a bikini top and gave her a thin white top just to say she wasn’t naked. 

The outrage was massive but not as big as Jeewon’s chest or the Won signs in the company’s eyes. Sure the company received tremendous backlash for the decisions they’ve been making but that was nothing compared to the money coming their way. 

From that day forward, the company’s view of Jeewon has changed and all she is in their eyes is merely a tool they can use to generate views and revenue. While the higher ups used Jeewon’s body for profit, their manager planned to use Jeewon’s body for his pleasure. 

He used to see Jeewon and Cignature as his responsibility, close friends, and possibly even family. But given recent events, his perception of her has changed and after the festival, after seeing Jeewon up close, after seeing her tits jiggle, he has been woken up to just how insanely sexy she is. 

After every practice session or performance the group would do, whenever they finished their manager would be close by to congratulate them. Often he would clap and cheer for them or pat their backs. It gave the members encouragement and energy to keep going, that is, until they realized that his pats on Jeewon progressively got lower and lower until one day he’s just groping her butt in view of everyone else. 

Naturally the members would complain to the other staff but some simply didn’t care while the rest told them to just suck it up and accept it. That, along with some gaslighting and manipulating from the manager, made them keep their mouths shut. And the encouragement they would get turned into fear that the rest of the group would be touched the way Jeewon gets touched. 

Following their silence, he became more shameless in his interactions with Jeewon. He would slap her ass as a greeting any time he comes close to her and often we would hug her from behind like some romantic scene in a K-drama but instead it’s so he can grab her breasts without her leaving. 

He even made some rearrangements to the room assignments at the dorm, moving Jeewon from her room to his. He placed, well more so dumped, her things into his room just to seal the deal. And no, he didn’t have an extra bed so he made her stay with him on his. 

On the first night they were in the room together, as Jeewon was about to go to the bathroom to get changed, the manager blocked the way out and instructed her to get changed in front of him. With no other options and no way out, she was forced to comply. He licked his lips as he saw her in her underwear, it wasn’t quite the full thing just yet but he knows for sure he’s going to get it soon enough. They climbed into bed and he turned her around so he could spoon her and cuddle her like some body pillow, all the while grinding his erection into her butt. 

Morning arrived and everyone had breakfast together, with Jeewon sitting on the manager’s lap of course. As Jeewon was headed to the shower, he stops her and tells her he’s going with her “to save water,” a lie apparent to both of them. Jeewon wanted to say no but before she could even answer he was already pushing her towards the bathroom. The members watched anxiously as they walked together, nothing much they could really do. 

The manager immediately strips down and his cock is standing proud as it pointed towards Jeewon who was visibly disgusted. She turns away from him to quietly cry but not even her feelings had space as the manager was already starting to take her clothes off. He got her down to her underwear when he backed off to let her strip the final pieces herself. 

As Jeewon tantalizingly took her bra off, he would quote the interview back at her, saying that her physique is the best in history and that her body is the talk of the town. Jeewon once again covered her chest with her arm while she was removing her panties. She stood back up with her hands on her privates but the manager just walked up and put her hands at her side then he started feeling her up and played with her chest for a good few minutes. He would compliment her tits and especially her nipples since it’s the first time he’s seen them, maybe the first man ever to see them, then he proceeds to call himself lucky how he has her body all to himself. 

After playing with her body, he suggested that they help each other by cleaning each other while he was stroking his dick, making the innuendo even clearer as if Jeewon didn’t already know what he meant. 

The two stepped into the shower but it was less of a bath and more of Jeewon reluctantly jerking him off while he explored every inch of her exposed body once again. 

He would get increasingly annoyed at how slow Jeewon’s pace was and he decided to drop the subtleties and he pushes down on her shoulders to force her down on her knees. Then he grabbed her tits and trapped his cock between them so that he could start thrusting while Jeewon just knelt there and be used. 

Jeewon kept her eyes and mouth as shut as she could while he ejaculated all over her face. Before she could clean herself off, the manager wiped the cum off her face and collected it in his hand. He forced her to drink it all and retched from the taste. He then told her that she should get used to it because that wouldn’t be the last time she has to drink cum. 

After showering and using up more water than if they bathed separately, the group got ready to go to practice. It went just about as well as how their previous practices went just with some extra groping being received by Jeewon. When they got back to the dorm and the two got into the shower again, Jeewon was ready to get back on her knees but instead she felt herself get turned around. 

Jeewon felt the manager’s tip press against her slit and she froze in fear. He did not care if she was protected or not, a problem he was too horny to deal with at the moment. He pulled her back and held her by her chest as he started thrusting into her pussy. Jeewon just cried silently as she felt herself get more violated than she had already been, especially when she felt his hot cum stirring inside of her pussy. 

The manager got high on fucking Jeewon that he proceeded to do just that and only that for the next few days. He didn’t care how or where he fucked Jeewon or who among the members saw it but the only thing that mattered to him was that either Jeewon’s pussy or mouth was occupied by his cock. 

He would fuck her before and after sleeping. He would make her blow him while he ate food and watched TV. He would fuck her on the dining table forcing the members who were eating there to move elsewhere. He would use her mouth to properly clean him in the shower. And so on. Even when the group had to go practice, he would make the rest go to the company building while Jeewon was kept beneath him in the dorm. While they practiced their next performance, Jeewon was being turned into his sex pet. 

One of the members complained that the manager keeps having sex with Jeewon but much to the group’s dismay, they doubled down and saw an opportunity land at their feet. Why stop at dressing Jeewon so scantily clad in public when they could also use her body behind closed doors to also bring more money in, that way whenever the group isn’t on stage, they can be certain that their wallets are full. 

The manager was furious with what the members did even though the decision made by the company was expected for him but instead of finding out who the culprit was, he decided to just cool down and what better way to do that than to use Jeewon’s possibly untouched asshole for the first time. 

The manager had all the members in the living room and they all sat quietly in fear. He told them how annoyed and disappointed he was in them but he made sure to tell them he won’t scold them for it which gave them some relief for a very brief moment until he grabbed Jeewon by her hair and dragged her into his room. The members cried while they held each other as they listened to Jeewon screaming and begging for help, their hearts broke knowing that they couldn’t help and that they were somehow responsible for subjecting her to even more torment. 

He ripped Jeewon's clothes off while he held her down as she tried to struggle to free herself. Once her shorts were down, instead of feeling the familiar feeling of his tip pressing against her cunt, Jeewon felt his dick press against her asshole which made her scream so loud it echoed throughout the whole dorm. 

He didn’t bother lubing up or anything and he just started going in dry. Jeewon never knew such pain prior to that moment, whether mental or physical, and she screamed her head off through the night, making it known to the members just how much pain she was in and making it hard for them to go to sleep just from the loudness alone. 

From being always at the dorm to being almost never, Jeewon was sold off to investors as if she was some sort of prostitute. Though the manager still had his time with Jeewon, he wasn’t able to have as much action as he used to and naturally he turned to the other members of the group. He would assign a day for each member as if it was a chore to be used by him. The other members were also up for grabs but it was Jeewon who anyone wanted to fuck, not like anyone can blame them. 

From a merely suggestive interview question, spiraled all the way into Jeewon being turned into a cow, both financially and sexually. 

#kpop #kpop smut #jeewon #jeewon smut #cignature #cignature smut

[rinslow]

The Beaturtles - Crabbey Road

Lately, squid kids and grownups alike have started to appreciate a band that flourished back in the old days! I’m sure plenty of folk consider them one of the greatest classic rock bands…

Anyways, happy 54th Anniversary to Abbey Road by The Beatles. I thought it would be fun to turn them into a splatband!

Do you like fish puns? I put my entire brain into naming and deciding what creature they should be…

(Alts.)

#R’s Dumb OCs #??? Not sure I can consider them OCs but WHATEVER #splatoon #splatbands #the beatles #abbey road #john lennon #george harrison #paul mccartney #ringo starr #parody

[quinn-pop]

yet another oc that only exists because i wanted to write something very specific

(middle is a little older, hence her scar healing. i like to think she gets a glass eye at some point)

anyway this is mira! (they/she) since that wip is almost 20k words and counting i won’t give away too much but long story short she’s the result of meta going “one last time, i promise” and adopting yet another kid

also galaxia kinda indirectly picked the name :)

i’ve mentioned before that i headcanon that pretty much all astrals are autistic and this is just kinda an extension of that. whereas meta tends to suppress his emotions and conform to others, mira…doesn’t. she gets uncomfortable and upset and lashes out at people easily, and working through their emotions is no small task.

the main reason i chose to write them that way was for the sake of narrative but i’ve grown attached to it because there’s a lot of ideas there i’d like to explore. stuff about navigating emotions and relationships when existing is so suffocatingly uncomfortable. it’s not something i could center around Kirby himself, but i think it makes sense with a post character development meta knight.

they are very loved (omg oldee cameo???)

kirby was definitely very excited to have younger siblings after being used to being the youngest in the room for so long!! (with the like. one and only exception being gooey.) he’s super affectionate with both of them and wants to have a close relationship one day, but for now mira is pretty unappreciative of that fact lol. they don’t like being pestered for hugs

everyone else is okay tho

(i know that’s hard to read. oops. “obvious bite marks”. siblings being siblings.)

mira also has a very love/hate relationship with the egg kid, being so close in age they kinda Have to get along but in typical sibling nature they also fight a lot. sure it’s probably rough for a while but i think in the end they’d be good buddies. maybe not as close as Kirby and Bandee but still.

anyway i have a lot of thoughts and am very busy but. i’m really enjoying writing about all this lately it’s been fun ^^

#I picked a name and then proceeded to write a comic in pen in which i used that name and posted it #and only after all that did i learn that mira is becoming a very popular name. which i generally avoid #but oh well. it’s stuck #im gonna be completely honest a lot of how i pick names for characters is based off of how many puns i can make out of it #im sorry to disappoint you with that information /j #kirbyposting #my art or something #meta knight #kirby #king dedede #metadede #Kirby oc #semi future au #I swear i’ll introduce oldee one day im just bad at having drawing ideas #also trying very hard to not make self deprecating comments over some of this art cause i just. don’t really want to spend forever redrawing #stuff anymore. like I used to do for a lot of these posts. It’s whatever #anyway kinda a part two to yesterday’s post (as in: I made sure they were both ready at the same time so i could queue them together lol) #weirdly enough this isn’t all that different from my dmk interpretation #i can’t really decide what color she is either #part of me wants to say bright blue red eyes because i think that would look absolutely sick but that seems like a bit too much blue #all things considered #maybe bright yellow blue eyes idk ill figure it out later (maybe)

[toytulini]

thinking about my oc Bytte. and. her gender is Aro. her Aromanticism is inextricable from her gender experience.

#toy txt post #i love to make an alloaro oc whos a woman navigating a usually masculine role in society far before we ever coined aromanticism #whos Aromanticism informs so much about her but with no language to adequately describe it she doesnt really know how #and so she does kinda blow up her relationships by accident bc she does Want human connection #and what she Wants is to fuck someone whos friends with her and chill about it who will just be fucking Normal about it #and Not Make It A Big Thing and also for other people to not make it a big thing and they can hang out and be friends #but never fucking domesticize her. and its in part a rejection of the misogynistic role of Wife in historic (and even modern) society of #course but its also a rejection of the relationship hierarchy of Wife. of the romanticization. bc of her circumstances the only role on #offer of course has been Wife. but in the hypothetical situation where she was offered the role of Husband? she would at first probably #accept that. in theory. it sounds fine. sure. but if she tried to LIVE like that. to Live even as a Husband. it would Also be Wrong. to put #any of her relationships into that framework is to fundamentally ruin them forever. and she is living in a society that wants that to be #the only framework. anyway its crazy how ive made a character like that exactly Twice at least #(Bytte and Lucille. Bytte is a bit more genderfucky than Lucille. Lucilles gender is also ugly violent scary woman. for reasons) #both of these characters rn are cis. well. not /cis/ cis but theyre afab and women bc i want to explore that but i am thinking lately about #a transfem take. to explore. ive considered it and i dont think i want that for Bytte? all that means is watch out for future ocs #i could do a character very similar to Bytte as transfem and it would be really good but theres something about #and honestly it would probably make more SENSE for Bytte? due to gender roles in like ancient sparta or whatever? #but if shes transfem in sparta i think there would be subtle nuanced differences in how ppl interact w her that i dont necessarily want for #her? if that makes sense. i know this reasoning sounds weak in a vacuum but i Promise i have way more characters than this and i do want to #explore things differently. i promise there are complex transfem characters in witchverse and also complex characters whos asab im not #decided on yet. there are some im not sure i ever want to be decided on? the downside of being incredibly specific about fictional #characters is that it doesnt leave you all room for headcanons #sorry. good news is you can go make your own ocs about it 👍 idk. much to explore. much to think about #also sometimes a ''''cis'''' character CAN have a fun gender to play with honestly its just that mainstream media Never does #so theres no good way to be like no but listenn i swear its fun #anyway this is all moot cos im not a fucking writer im just making up little guys and doing nothing #also anyway. i think my gender is also aro and a little ace. personally. also before u get mad at me about these 2 ocs being like #probelmatic aro rep or smth: 1) aforementioned its moot anyway im not even a writer 2) these arent the only alloaro ocs i have its just #funny that i made this one twice lmao 3) my brain is huge. my ocs are rad. suck my ass. ♡ #if only i Was a writer tho god. thered be sooooo many aro characters fr fr

[inkyray]

Can you do a angsty Matt story? Maybe when hanging out with friends he made a rude comment and the reader got upset but he didn’t notice so when they go back to his house Chris/nick notice somethings wrong not Matt which makes the reader angry and they fight?

a/n: if you look at my doc where i wrote this at, this took up 15 pages of utter horror

warning/content ahead: ANGST LETS GO, matt x anxious!asthmatic!reader, fighting, crying, arguing, anxiety attacks, asthma attacks, bsf!chris yesss go girl, like one oc i made up, lmk if i missed anything

-

TOUCHED

You trail closely behind your boyfriend, the mall large and filled with people, getting stopped every five minutes for a new fan to take a photo with him. You being the one forced to take them.

You hand a fan their phone back, watching as they skip somewhere off to the side. You sigh, and Matt goes in to reach for your hand, understanding your frustration, but you flinch away, making sure he doesn't grab a hold of it. "You okay?" He questioned.

You guys have barely made it past the entrance of the mall and this was the eighth fan to come up to him, it was a day made just for the two of you and now it's being slowly stripped away from you as you take pictures of him next to strangers. You didn't want to seem sensitive, but answered nonetheless, lying through your teeth. "Of course."

You dart your eyes around the place for a distraction, landing on a pretzel stand. "Oh! Wanna get a soft pretzel?" You get excited, gesturing to the stand. Matt follows your gaze and his face brightens. "Oh, god yes. I've been wanting one for weeks." He utters.

He grabs ahold of your hand and you take it back immediately, shoving it in your pockets and looking around to see if anyone saw that. No, thankfully, not. You hoped.

You watched his adam's apple bob as he dropped his gaze, you two walking over to the stand. "You looking to buy a pretzel?" A young woman in the stand asks, fixing her uniform hat. "Yes, please--" You start but quickly get interrupted.

"Wait, are you Matt Sturniolo?" She asks, her demeanor changing to reach for her phone. You swallow your throat dry as he answers. "Oh my god, can I get a picture?" She doesn't wait for an answer, getting around from the stand as she gets her phone ready. Matt shoots you an apologetic look as you ignore it, taking the phone that was handed to you and snapping a picture of them, your face expressionless.

"Thank you so much." You give her a small smile just to quickly realize she wasn't even looking at you, but at your boyfriend. "What did you guys want?"

You order, every sense of excitement completely flushed out of your body as you chew at your pretzel. You guys were now standing at some corner of the mall shadowed, somewhere Matt had insisted on standing to eat your pretzels in peace.

You chew on your soft pretzel, calculating the place around you before turning your attention to look up at him. He examines your face, one side of his cheek stuffed as he chews on it. He chuckles to himself, "You got a little somethin'' Matt's gaze was on your upper lip, lifting a thumb to brush off whatever was on there but you quickly moved your head back. You block his gesture with your own hand, removing any crumbs that were on you.

He finishes what was in his mouth. "Look," He starts but you dismiss it immediately, knowing what he's about to say. "Let's spend this day without any problems, okay?" You tell him softly before he could get a chance to explain himself. He sighs, looking like he's considering what you're saying.

"Okay." He agrees, "But, can I get a quick kiss?" He asks, a small frown on his face. You look around, seeing one too many people. "When we go home." You answer.

PDA in general isn't your cup of tea, but little stuff like holding hands and small physical touching you didn't mind. Matt was aware of that, you guys have been together for months. You'd think he'd got you all figured out. But as his career was skyrocketing, so was your problem with PDA.

It felt like everyone was watching, the anxiety of his fans probably seeing something and snapping a picture, posting it to the internet without either of your consent swelled your mind. His fans are what worried you, with how cruel they could be and the all seeing eyes of judgment. You loved Matt and wouldn't leave him for the world, he was your partner in crime. But making it public seemed like a death wish, millions of fans deranged enough to find a way to have you two broken up.

You weren't embarrassed of him, that was the farthest thing you felt. If anything, you felt like you were the one embarrassing him. You couldn't afford to paint such a picture for him and you didn't want any more fans to go any harsher on him. You were doing this because you cared for him, that's what he didn't seem to understand.

-

You stood in front of your mirror, having your hand slide down your curves, the dress hugging you exceptionally tight in all the right places. Your hair was in a messy updo, revealing your delicate shoulders and collarbones, messy strands untied to the updo, flying filmy around in soft motion. You were thrilled to see the look on your boyfriend's face when he sees you, knowing this a dress he would drool over, especially on you.

Picking up your phone, you notice your girl friends texting you, saying they were outside ready to pick you up. You, your boyfriend Matt, his brothers, and a bunch of friends are all going to some fancy restaurant in LA. Excited, you spray yourself in your signature scent and head out.

You got multiple compliments, which meant a lot coming from your close friends, but whether you wanted to admit or not, nothing mattered until you saw Matt.

You spare your friend, Em, a lip liner from your bag as you watch the restaurant appear into view. Em had made it her mission to somehow get Chris to fall in love with her by the end of the night, and you were curious to see how that would go. Peering out the window, you see Matt, his brothers, and their male friends conversing in front of the place, waiting on you guys. Almost everyone you were hanging out with tonight were influencers, not you though.

You feel your heart skip a beat when you see him, urging your friend to hurry up and park. He looked perfect. "Okay! Okay, give me a minute." She laughs, doing as you please. In seconds, you're out of the vehicle and greeting everyone, greeting the ones closest to you first. Nate, Chris, a friend, Nick, who doesn't hide his impressed look on his face. "Are you heaven sent? Holy fuck, you look amazing." He says and you fail to hide the erupting flattered chuckle, "Says you, wouldn't be surprised if you left tonight with multiple new numbers in your phone." You say, before turning to your boyfriend with a dimpled-smile.

You engulf him into a hug, one that has his scent swirling around you and comforting you instantly, one that takes him by surprise and stiffly hugs you back. "You look so handsome, pretty boy." You look up at him, pulling away from the hug. His expression was confused, the smile he had when talking to his friends disappearing when you pulled him into a kiss in front of everyone. Pulling back down, you stare up at him, waiting for him to say something.

"Thanks." He says, looking away from you and going to greet the other girls that tagged along. You were still smiling, but you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. That was it? He's usually more touchy than this. You watched him hug all the other girls, with hands around their waist a gleaming smile playing. You wondered if that's what he looked like hugging you too.

He pulls away and you stare at his hand, his finger ringed and the urge to hold it was strong. You reach a hand out to hold onto it, but he moves all too quickly in a motion of conversing with a friend before you can grasp onto it. Leaving you holding no ones hands but your own.

Turning your head away, you go and greet his other friends.

-

You sat at the long white-clothed table, picking lightly at the petaled roses displayed in front of you. Your boyfriend sat somewhere far down the table, across from Em. While you sat across from Chris, with Nick right beside you. Nick seemed to be caught up in a conversation with the girl on the other side of him. As for Matt, he was talking to both Nate and Em.

You can't help but look at him every second, he was so interested in whatever they were talking about he didn't even bother to make sure he sat next to you. He wasn't that far down the table, but far enough where you couldn't reach him. You could see and hear him, yet not touch him. For the first time in a while, you were upset about it.

You were forced to break your gaze from on him, turning to examine the beyond-fancy restaurant. Gold plated things everywhere, marble, high ceilings and long draped curtains. Maybe you were underdressed. Looking back down, you look at the rose petal you had accidentally broken off.

Everyone around you was engulfed in their own conversation while you just sat there, feeling the softness of the petal before slowly ripping it to shreds. Everything around you began hitting you in the wrong places, everything was too loud, the lights felt too hot on your skin, the place needed air conditioning, the waiter was taking too long. Your hands began to shake as the ripped petals fell from your grasp.

"Hey." You feel a quick kick to your shin and you look up. "Hey, Chris." You couldn't help but smile. Chris was definitely one of your best friends, all of the triplets were. But Chris knew how to take your mind off anything. His eyes darted from your shaking hands to your expression. "Why aren't you next to your boyfriend?" He asked with a small smile, one that made you feel like he was about to crack a joke.

"You mean Matt?" You dart your gaze over to him, he was fully laughing now. "Yeah. Unless you have a separate boyfriend here." Chris practically rolls his eyes as you feel the quiver of your hands quicken. You try to stop them, putting your hands on top of each other and applying pressure, hoping to stop it. "I think he just got caught up with his friends on a topic or something." You say in regards to Matt.

"Mm." Chris hums, nodding to what you're saying. He slowly leans against the table, getting closer to you. His voice drops a few tones as he asks you something. "What's wrong?" He gestures to your hands, voice whispery. You look back down to see your hands still shaking, you quickly hide them under the table and rest on your lap.

"My anxiety, Chris." You answer, looking at the open lights behind him before quickly looking away, feeling a headache form. "Everything here is so overwhelming." You answer honestly.

In Chris's mind, he puts two and two together. He knew you were telling the truth, but he also knew you wouldn't be this anxious unless you were seated next to his brother. He was aware that his brother had an effect on you that would immediately help with your anxiety, giving you some sort of comfort in uncomfortable scenarios. Chris cared about you like you were his sister, and he wished he had that sort of effect on you too, wanting nothing but to keep you happy.

He sighs, leaning back. "It is pretty overwhelming here, huh." He mutters, taking a sip from a water that was definitely Nick's, but he was too distracted to notice. You smile at the gesture, and he sips down the water and holds it up to you. "Want some?" He lifts his eyebrows, and you shake your head with a smile. "You sure, 'cause the ethereal hint of Sir Nicolas's saliva really just melts on your tongue."

You scrunch up your nose with a laugh as Nick's head snaps to Chris's direction. "What the fuck are you doing, Chris?" Nick's tone was warning. Chris pops a shoulder. "Oh, you know, drinking some delish water."

"Delish?" Nick repeats, "Did my water turn you gay?" That's what makes both you and Chris erupt into laughter, and you can't help but to even rub your eyes, careful not to mess up any of your eye makeup. Chris does the same, laughing more because you were rather than Nick's joke. Nick even chuckles a little, snatching his water back and keeping it beside him. "Dummy fuck."

It takes you a second to compose yourself, noticing just how loud you and Chris are being. With the failed attempt to keep yourself from laughing, you lean to Chris. "Sh–" You interrupt yourself with a laugh. "Shh, we're going to get kicked out." Your cheeks were hurting, the joke wasn't even that funny. Now you guys were just laughing because of the other one. 

Chris opens his eyes, squinting at you as he tries to lower his laugh a notch, holding a finger in front of his mouth as he attempts to shush you too, but only laughs more.

The two of you were unaware, but Matt had been staring at you since the moment Chris had kicked your shin. He watched as he leaned into and whispered something too inaudible, then kept his gaze on you guys until you were almost on the floor laughing. Jealousy burnt through his chest, and some form of hurt anger erupted, aiming directly at you. 

Everybody at the table now was looking at you guys, laughing a little along with you guys from the scene in front of them, not really sure what you guys were laughing at. You watch as a waiter begins to approach from behind Chris, and you immediately kick his leg, maybe a little harsher than intended. "Ow!" He jumps, and you point to the region behind him, he turns his head and sees the approaching waiter. He turns his head back immediately, his eyes widen as he tries to swallow down his laughs. Which seemed even funnier to you.

It was a struggle for you two to order, and Nick had to be the one to order for you guys. You felt immature and childish, but it somehow made you feel better about yourself knowing that Chris did as well.

Em starts talking from your row, across from Matt, as she aims her topic at Chris. "We're gonna have to wait even longer for our food now, am I right?" She says, making her voice slightly louder so Chris would be able to hear her, but his attention wasn't even on her, he was completely fixated on you, accidentally ignoring her completely.

"Ugh." He mutters, clenching onto his stomach. "My stomach hurts so fucking bad now." He almost moaned, and you grin. This is the most you've smiled all night. Now that he's mentioned it, you feel a cramp begin to form in your stomach too. "Oh, shit. Me too." You lay your palm on the thin material of your dress. "Fuck you, making me laugh so hard." You say, feeling your stomach begin to worsen.

"Me?" He scoffs, "Nick is the one that made the joke, loser." He defends, both of you guys matching with a hand on your stomachs. "Yeah, but your laugh is stupid." You tell him, he has an offended look on his face. "Your laugh is also stupid."

You shrug. "Your laugh is stupider."

-

In all honesty, Chris is what got you through the entire night. When the conversation would die down and you would shift your attention back to Matt, Chris managed a way to keep you from feeling gloomy again. Your boyfriend hadn't spoken a word to you since the moment you guys had stepped into that restaurant.

Now, everyone was getting up from their seats on the table and they left tips under their empty plates. Soon, everyone would need to leave.

You follow them out of the building, noticing how later it was at night and how you should've brought a jacket for the chilly night. You look for Matt, hoping he would provide you with some sort of warmth with his body heat. As everyone approaches their cars, they all linger there, deciding to hang out in the parking lot a little longer.

Chris was now talking to Nate and his other friend, not paying any mind to Em that was trailing behind him. You notice Matt telling Nick and his friends a few things, and you immediately get the idea to stand next to him. Hopefully the quiet game was over now, and he would finally talk to you now that you were closer. Standing next to Matt, who's in a conversation of his own, you gently lean yourself on him, letting your bare arm brush against his clothed body, providing you with the smallest bits of warmth. Usually, he'd cover your shoulders with an arm draped over it, but here, he doesn't do anything.

You lay your head on his shoulder as he continues talking, not even batting an eye toward you as you let out a small breath, watching as the air coming out of your mouth turns into cold fog. It was freezing out, and a gust of wind flew your way, giving you a series of shivers down your back. Subconsciously, you lean close to him.

"Can you stop?" He huffs, stepping away from you as you almost trip, just now noticing how dependent you were being on him. Nick furrows his eyebrows. The trip had sent your ankle to bend, small rocks digging their way into your skin. "Sorry." You swallow, fixing your shoe, your foot stinging.

The groups navigated to this one, and everyone was around each other, getting ready to head home but wanted to spare the time a little longer. You spoke to Em, who admitted she gave up on Chris. "He was hopeless." She sighed.

You spoke to the girls who drove you here. You loved them dearly, they were the kindest and the closest girls to you. Now, your attention shifted to Matt, who was listening to Nate speak to everyone. "Bro, I'm just glad the plans made it out of the group chat and everyone managed to come tonight. You know how long we've wanted to do this?" Nate mumbled the usual way he does.

"For real, plus, everyone looks fucking fantastic." Nick says, turning his head to you. "I'm looking at you, cutie." He points at you, winking. Everyone begins agreeing, and you start to believe it. Maybe you did look good tonight.

You turn your head to look at Matt, cranking your neck a little to look up at him. He looks past you, down at the pavement. "Whatever you say." He mutters under his breath, his face blank and you feel your heart begin to shatter like glass. No one seemed to have heard him, and you begin to wonder if it was just your imagination.

"What?" You question, looking at him. Your eyes start to get glassy, and the moonlight hits your face just right, making Chris notice what was going on. Matt ignores you, clasping his hand together. "All right, I guess it's time to go home."

"You're coming with us, right?" Nick asks you as everybody begins getting in their cars. "That was the plan." Chris says, looking at you for confirmation as you tried to bite down every part of your body that felt like it was being stung with needles. Swallowing your mouth dry, you answer. "I think I'll go home tonight."

Nick and Chris's faces visibly go confused. "Home with us, right?" You shake your head, your neck stuck in a stiff and still to keep yourself from accidentally looking at Matt. It felt like if you even tried to look at him, you would burst out crying. "Home to my apartment."

"Aw man, please?" Nick frowns, and you shake your head, hearing their car start. You hear Matt call your name out and you physically feel your heart clench. "Just fucking come." He groaned, entering the car and slamming the door harshly, enough to leave you flinch. Your eyes got subconsciously wide, trying to expand your sight as if it'll keep the tears from rushing out completely. Chris and Nick look at Matt then you, then at each other, utterly bewildered. "I'll come." Your voice barely came out, completely dumbfounded by his aggressiveness.

"Let's go." Chris puts a gentle hand on your arm, leading you to the back of the car as Nick rushed to the passenger seat. "Matt, what the fuck is your problem?" Nick was a tone away from considering yelling, no doubt angry with the way he was treating you. Matt just sighs.

Chris watches you with sorrow as you take your time entering the car, noticing just how bad you sprained your ankle, needing to hold onto his hand to enter the vehicle. The second you scoot to the middle of the back of the car, Chris immediately shoves himself inside, shutting the door as he glares at Matt through the rear mirror. "Took you two long enough." Matt grumbled, his voice was quiet but he spoke volumes.

"Matt, seriously, what stick is up your fucking ass?" Nick spoke with his hands, his palms spread open but his fingers clasped together as he was vigorously waiting for a response. God knew you were waiting for one too, desperate for one. It felt like piles of bricks were being laid on your chest, one by one.

"Nick, shut the fuck up." He had begun driving by now, all you could do was lay your head against the window and wait for this ride to end. "Watch your goddamn mouth, Matt." Chris didn't have his seatbelt on, sitting on the edge of the backseat as his voice was laced with impatient annoyance.

You closed your eyes, holding your own hands, lacing your fingers together as they began to shake just as they were in the restaurant when you first got there. "What are you going to fucking do, Chris? Kiss my girlfriend?" Matt argued, his voice getting louder. Your eyes fly open at the phrase.

"Matt, what?" Chris uttered, nothing but confusion written on his face.

"This is so fucking stupid." Nick declared. "Let's make it home and give her a peace of calm fucking mind. I just want her to have a good night's sleep, honestly." He sighed, referring to you. He cared about you deeply.

The ride home was uncomfortable to the brim. It felt like someone had poured thick fog into the car and made it difficult for you to breathe at a normal pace, your breaths either lasting too long or too short. The invisible fog picking at your nose and eyes, a push away from letting a tear slip. At least, for you.

Now, you are back home in your boyfriend's house. Nick leaves for his room to quickly change, as Chris lingered to do something on his phone. Usually, you'd head straight for Matt's room, given it was the one that had everything that belonged to you in, the one you'd sleep at every night.

You stood around, unsure of the next move you should make. Matt took a rootbeer out of the fridge and popped it open, looking at you as you glance at your splintered feet. "You just gonna stand there or what?" He says after a sip, another brick adding to your chest.

You approach the kitchen, passing Chris on the couch who had his gaze fixated on you, mentally begging for you to stand up for yourself. You bring up the courage to look him dead in the eye, the same ones that you had declared the most perfect eyes in the world just earlier today. "Matt, what did I do?" You finally ask, straightforwardly asking the question.

He furrowed his eyebrows in mock confusion. "What did you do? 'Cause frankly, I'd love to know." Sarcasm laced his tongue and you felt your hurt turn into anger. "Stop talking out of your ass and answer me." You say, getting closer to him that the only thing separating you two was the wide table in the middle of the kitchen.

"There's always fucking something with you, isn't there?"

"Always something with me!? You're the one who won't tell me what's wrong." You make your voice louder to match his.

"You always have some sort of problem with something, don't you!?" He was determined to out-yell you, as if his words would hit harder if he made it's volume that way.

Your body was boiling, confusion, impatience, and pure irritation an ugly mix in your stomach. He won't give you an answer, and you are fed up. You cannot let him treat you like this any longer.

"What the fuck are you talking about!?" You begin to use your hands.

"You fucking know what I'm talking about!"

With that being said, you two were now yelling over each other. The argument quickly turns into a fight, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you move them around. His voice booms throughout the house and it's enough for Nick to quickly notice what was going on from upstairs. You shouted back, begging for a simple response as he accused you of acting dumb on purpose.

The shouting was layering on top of what you two were saying, screaming and yelling what immediately comes to mind, paying no attention to what the other person is saying for the interruption until a phrase slips out that triggers the other person into saying something else.

Chris screwed his eyes shut tightly, a depressing wave floating in his chest as he felt the hurt wafting from both of you. The two people he cared about the most, fighting as he heard it all. He shuts his phone as he raises both his hands to rub on his eyes until he sees static. The unbearing sound of the two of you only getting louder.

The second Nick was done changing he was flying down the stairs, determined to break up whatever was happening.

"Matt!" Nick tried yelling over you two, but quickly noticed he'll have to do more than that, you two louder together than Nick was on his own. He attempts to call your name as well, but neither of you are aware of his presence.

You couldn't help it, hot tears were streaming down your face now as you pleaded for him to compromise. Your emotions shift between hurt, anger, and everything that comes with it. Matt definitely noticed, his gaze lingering on your glistening cheek as he only argued back quicker.

Nick shoots a quick and worried look at Chris, who just so happened to open his eyes right when he did, concerned this would become something physical. Chris gets up from his spot on the couch, approaching Nick with a look that says 'how-the-hell-do-we-stop-this'.

The sight in front of them begins to get messier and their heart skips a beat when Matt doesn't stop his yelling, leaning over the table to point a finger at your face.

"You know what you're fucking—"

"Get your finger out of my fucking face." You spit.

" 'because it always has to be your way—"

"Matt, I said get your finger, Out. Of. My. Face!"

"Oh but as long as I'm doing what you–"

You and Matt were now inches away from each other, leaning across the table but your faces uncomfortably close. A vein was practically popping out of his forehead and no doubt so was yours. Nick silently thanked God for the table that was between you two.

You begin choking up your words and losing your breath, every word attempting to form was now a struggle, a new and harsh cough interrupting it. Chris's eyes widen and Matt abruptly stops. A silent second passes as all three of them stare at you, hoping for a false alarm, but your coughs get worse as you attempt to get some air in your lungs, failing to do so.

"Her inhaler." Matt yells, panicking immediately. Chris begins shuffling under his feet as Nick has no idea what he's supposed to do. Matt slaps Chris's shoulder, "Get her fucking inhaler, now." Matt orders Chris, the two of them sprinting to Matt's room to get it.

They come back in actual seconds, Matt's room turned to junk after throwing everything out of his drawers to find it. You never thought you'd have to use your inhaler, only ever using it once a year, more or less. Your asthma was mild, but this argument definitely triggered it. It was brought to your mouth in seconds, and you needed a full moment to get your chest working properly again.

Matt's expression was now plastered with worry and fear, every sort of angry bone in his body disappearing. Now, all that mattered to him was that you were okay. And honestly, once you could see straight, you had begun crying again.

"I'm sorry." Matt brushes the hair out of your face, strands sticking to your forehead from sweat, watching you uncontrollably bawl. "I'm so sorry."

Your tears were the hottest you've ever felt on your skin, and your eyes were glowing red from how much this all hurts. "Matt, I just can't do this. Either– Either tell me or fucking don't."

Nick helps you sit up and Matt swallows, deciding that he should just come clean with his behavior. But first, he needed his brothers out of here. He gave Chris a simple look and he nodded. "Nick, let's go."

And they were gone.

You had your eyes closed, all the energy in your body gone completely in one go as you waited for him to speak, a tear following another as it began to calm down. A few seconds pass as Matt tries to recoil his thoughts before finally talking.

"You hate touching me when we're anywhere that isn't a private setting." He starts, sighing through the sentence. "You'd flinch when my hand would even touch yours in the slightest. After a while, I began understanding that maybe that's just who you were. You know, not the biggest fan of public display of affection, or whatever."

He swallows. "So, I got used to it. You hated it and I began working around it. Until tonight. You hugged me and kissed me in front of everyone, trying to do the things I would pray to try and do to you on the daily. I got confused." He swallowed. "You were embarrassed of me, and that's the conclusion I came up with. Deciding to touch me when the setting involved my friends." You furrow your eyebrows.

"As if.." He sighs and looks down, his chest breathing heavily as he stays like that for a moment. You opened your eyes and noticed he was about to cry. "Matt." You try to say, but your voice is hoarse and chalky.

"As if you wanted to give them this image that everything was all good. You're embarrassed of me on every single occasion except for this one, and it just fucked with my head."

You sat up fully this time. "Matt, are you nuts? Seriously?" You scoff, finally understanding everything. "I do what I do because I'm embarrassed of myself." You laugh at the irony. "If you pay attention, everytime I act this way is when we are in reach of any potential fan of yours." You say slow enough for him to process. "This restaurant was too fancy to have a deranged fan there. I was comfortable to be myself with you there because I knew that no stranger could misread the situation."

You fix a strand of hair quickly behind your ear before continuing. "I kissed you because I knew those people, and I knew that they wouldn't take a photo of it and post it on the internet without my permission, letting the internet speak absolute crap about me and judge me solely because I'm your girlfriend."

The scene was quiet as Matt registered your words, and you made sure the second was longer, replaying what he said back in your mind, as well as the entire fight that had just occurred. It all felt so pathetic to think about now, and the reason for it all finally dawned upon you two.

"All I wanted was to finally hug–and touch–my boyfriend tonight. But all I got was an anxiety attack, an ankle sprain, and a fucking asthma attack." You finish off with a stupid laugh.

He's silent for a moment before laughing, "I should've known. Seriously. God." He rubs his eyes and you see snippets of tears slip past his fingers. You get up and hug him, and he engulfs you in the embrace before you could fully even reach him.

"I'm sorry for making you feel that way." The side of your head laid on his chest as you hugged him tightly, and he gradually took it tighter.

"No way you just apologized before me. I was supposed to do that." He sniffed, trying to lighten the mood.

"Sorry about that too."

He mutters your name and you look up, your chin on his chest. "I'm sorry for treating you that way. I feel like the worst human being on earth, and that's a fucking understatement." It was cute. Both of you guys are crying for the dumbest miscommunication ever. "I know." You say.

"Like, I somehow managed to fuck up so bad Chris had to be the one to comfort you tonight." He shook his head.

"Yeah. That was a crazy low you did for it to reach that point."

He shushes you. "I don't need reminders."

"You brought it up." You shrug. He nods, "Yeah. I guess so." He finally cracks a smile, and you follow the curves of his lips, unknowingly grinning with him.

"I really fucking missed you today." He admits, kissing your nose, your eyes fluttering shut before opening them back up immediately. "You have no idea, Matt. Promise to forget today?"

"Promise."

"Now let's go to your room, you need to get these splinters out of my feet."

"You got it, love."

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #the sturniolos #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo x you #angst #fluff #matt #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #stromboli #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas antonio sturniolo

[lowkeyrobin]

could you write something where walker scobell and reader like each other, are super obvious about it but also super oblivious when it comes to knowing each others feelings? (bonus points if the cast of percy jackson is involved and all know about their feelings for each other)! 🎀

aweeee oh my lord yes!!! stop this is so fucking cute wtffff 😭🙏 ; thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy!!! ; ALSO!! this features a random oc because apparently no one from the older cast other than Charlie and Aryan can be normal so 🤞, oc is supposed to be like a bg character for one of Luke's friends in the show anyways!!! ; sorry this turned out so bad after you waited so long for it LMAO

WALKER SCOBELL ; oblivious

summary ; youre both oblivious to each other's feelings, and your costars need to help push you together

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; I mentioned some stores/brands that I'm pretty sure are zionist corps, so please don't go support them! this is just a fanfic, don't see this as advertisement bc these places kinda suck anyways. free palestine and do your daily clicks on arab.org

word count ; 1.6k

masterlist

"You're so stupid," Aryan sighs, walking next to you toward the mall entrance.

Leah and Walker walk ahead of you two, both talking about whatever they wanted to do while they were here. Charlie and Jordan walk behind you, acting as your parental gaurdians because apparently at ages 14-17, you weren't responsible enough to walk around a mall yourselves and needed a pair of 19 year olds by your side.

"He doesn't like me, and I don't like him, Aryan. Get it through your thick skull" You chuckle.

"Uh huh" He nods sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Walker and Leah quickly turn around, walking backwards. "Come on, we're going to Target!"

You and Aryan share a look and quickly chase after them, Charlie and Jordan walking behind all of you like uninterested parents.

You jog across the top floor of the mall and take the escalator down right in front of Target, heading for the interior doors. Leah, Walker, and Aryan head towards the children's toys aisles while you find yourself distracted in the music department. Charlie and Jordan walk around the store, just browsing while you younger teens do whatever. They weren't going to be responsible for any destruction.

You scan through the CDs, looking for anything you didn't have that you found interesting. You pick up a Conan Gray CD, one of his new album Found Heaven. You look to the left, seeing Walker quickly walking towards you, nearly walking into some lady's cart around a corner of one of the aisles.

"Hey." You chuckle, making it clear you saw him nearly get his hip busted by a middle-aged woman.

"Hi" The blonde smiles nervously, "What're you up to?"

You hold up the CD, "Browsing"

He nods, "I've never listened to him, should I?" He asks, beginning to flip through the CDs himself.

You look at him with slightly widened eyes. "Walker, how have you never listened to Conan Gray?..."

He shrugs, "I dunno"

"I'm forcing you to listen to him in the car."

"Okay, okay"

You continue looking through the CDs, seeing if they had anything else to your interest. For a split second, your shoulder brushes against his, considering you were standing so close.

You keep quiet, feeling your face heat up a bit. He feels the same way, unbeknownst to you. You nervously glance at each other, milliseconds apart so you never saw the opposite look.

"Walker, we found water guns!"

"They're so awesome, I could literally just stare at them all day while they talk about their favorite movie" The curly haired blonde smiles, slowly strolling down the lower half of the mall with Aryan and Leah at his side. "I don't think I've ever smiled and laughed so much than when I'm with them, seriously. Everything about them is so amazing, like, I could marry them here and now"

"And you said you don't have a crush on them," Leah states sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "You're something else"

"I don't have a crush on them!" Walker exclaims, the plastic bag in his hand slinging back and forth as he walked, spinning it around his fingers. "I was just describing what I like about them, yeesh"

The two look at him with similar expressions.

"You have a crush on them. Accept it, dude." Aryan sighs, patting Walker on the shoulder. "I'm like, 99% sure they feel the same way as well"

"Shut up!"

"Walker!"

"Quiet!"

You instantly connect the disembodied voice to your familiar blonde friend, having been grabbing a pretzel with Jordan and Charlie. You were stealing their money for food since you'd spent fifty dollars on CDs, plus an extra one for Walker. Thank God Charlie knew who his favorite band was, you'd wanted to get him an actual gift before you left for home tomorrow.

Jordan and Charlie sat down at one of the tables next to the big escalator in the middle of the mall, in clear earshot of the trio who just walked out of Bath and Body Works. They send a shared expression to Leah and Aryan, and they both nod back.

Walker doesn't notice, considering he was busy ranting about how he doesn't have a crush on you and was more focused on his body language and speaking with his hands then figuring out who or what his friends were looking at.

You walk to the table, get a look at the trio, their backs face towards you, and you hand Charlie and Jordan their food.

The two are oddly quiet as they munch down, which makes you question if they're conspiring against you. You ignore it, though, wanting to enjoy your pretzel while you had it.

Charlie and Jordan finally start conversation as you finish up your pretzel and soda, which you devoured. They were talking about some TV show they liked as you stood up, threw your garbage away, and headed toward the bathrooms. You leave the elder teens alone, walking down the dim side-hallway to the restrooms.

Charlie quickly pulls out his phone once your back was to them and calls Aryan. He was with Leah and Walker across the mall, where he and Leah had sneakily set Walker up to get you a little gift. The teens converse quietly and privately, not wanting their victims to hear.

"Yeah, he's inside with Leah, where's Y/n?"

"Restroom" Jordan answers, as they'd FaceTimed him. She pushes her dark hair away from her face as she speaks.

"Okay, where are you guys going next? We're going to Barnes and Noble back near you guys, on the top floor." Aryan informs

"Alright, we'll go fix my phone plan really quick and head over" Jordan nods, looking at Charlie for approval.

He nods as well, and quickly whispers bye as he hangs up. You walk back toward them with a light smile, asking where you were going next.

"We're gonna fuck around with my phone bill, and-"

"-Meet them at the food court!" Charlie finishes, trying to keep you and Walker apart for a moment. He sends a glance to Jordan, who pulls out her phone.

"Oh, okay" You shrug.

After joining Jordan to be a Karen to get her phone bill fixed, you three head up to the food court to meet up with Walker, Leah, and Aryan. As you sit down with them, they all make excuses to leave or go to different spots to get food. That leaves you and Walker at the table alone, both of you unable to start conversation.

You'd just eaten the biggest pretzel of your life, and it turns out he had a milkshake not too long ago. You both nervously smile at each other, biting your nails and fidgeting your fingers a bit. Aryan and Charlie watch from the Noodles and Company line, trying to see if you'd hand over your gifts for each other.

Right on queue, you decide to just give Walker the CD you'd gotten for him, not wanting to miss the sort-of-private opportunity to give it to him. You pull it out of the plastic bag that rests on the floor next to your feet. You hand it to him over the table, awaiting his reaction.

He quickly smiles and looks up at you. "Is that for me?"

"Duh"

He graciously accepts the gift, looking at it front and back over and over again. "How did you know I liked David Bowie?"

You shrug with a smug smile. "One, everyone likes Bowie, two, I know more about you than you think"

He playfully and lightly scoffs with a smile. "Thank you. Actually! That reminds me, I got you something too"

He reaches into the bag that sat next to him, and pulls out a few candy bars and bags, and slides them over the table for you. One of those is a lollipop shaped like a rose.

You smile and give him a warm thank you, laying your eyes on the Twizzlers for the most part.

"Y'know, I have a feeling I'm gonna like Conan Gray in the car"

"Oh, you will, trust me"

In the distance, Aryan and Charlie share looks.

"They're so head over heels for each other" Charlie sighs, "Can they just kiss already?"

Aryan nods, "We need to really push them together"

"How?"

"We'll ask Jordy and Leah"

"Sounds like a plan"

You and Walker sit side by side, smiles on your faces as you rest on the ledge of the fountain. You look back at all the silver and copper coins in the water, shimmering under the rippling water.

"And the whole thing exploded all over me! It was the dumbest thing ever"

You chuckle, listening to Walker talk about some science project exploding all over him in seventh grade.

"Y'know, you're like, really cool" He smiles, nervously glancing at Aryan.

You feel a smile tugging at your lips, "Oh, uhm, thank you. You're cool too, dude" You lightly punch his shoulder.

"No, like, cool cool" He clarifies.

You look over at your four friends, all wearing sunglasses, acting like they weren't spying on your conversation, on their phones or looking away nervously.

"Is this some kind of setup?"

"No!" He quickly replies, "I just, like, think you're really cool" He says, feeling too nervous to go out and ask the question or confess his feelings.

Leah groans and stands up, Aryan at her side.

"Just kiss already!" She says, throwing her hands in the air, "This show is too slow!"

"Kiss!" Aryan cheers, "Please! Do it already! It hurts to watch this anymore"

You look back at Walker, cheeks and ears as red as a stop sign.

Walker shrugs with a nervous look, which you share with him.

"Okay, well, I'm not kissing you on the ledge of a mall fountain"

"Yeah, I get that one"

#lowkeyrobin #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader #walker scobell x reader #walker scobell x gn reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson x reader #walker scobell

[anemoiashifts]

shifting tips / advice that don’t suck !

♡getting offline.

i know i know it’s hard, but being bombarded with different information about a certain topic can be so overwhelming & create room for overthinking which can effect performance. looking in places outside of shiftok or shiftblur or shift whatever. putting more effort into trying to figure out what something is instead of doing it will drive you insane because there is no answer to what shifting is. hence, “theories” & shared experiences. there is no concrete reasoning to shifting backed by science so don’t try & find them or you’ll be looking forever.

♡music.

did you know you can use music to manipulate memories ? the brain is so so bad at remembering things due to how much information we consume daily. when you visualize & listen to a sound or music, your brain can register that as a memory.

♡smell.

this one also aligns with the one above. smell is heavily tied to memory, also. by watching a show we are shifting to & pairing it with a certain scent like a perfume or candle, we can create a link between the two. then, spraying during shifting attempts can help us visualize & associate that piece of media with where we’re focusing on.

♡shadow work.

find out why you’re shifting. happiness ? you don’t need to shift for that. love ? you don’t need to shift for that. if you want to that’s fine but is shifting a bandaid for something deeper ? discover that. really think & consider where you’re going & if you’re in the right mentality to handle it. you aren’t in a television show episode or an oc, you’ll be a living human being in a very real & interactive world. figure out your intentions.

♡put in effort.

this may be a little obvious but you have to want to shift, to shift. you have to put in work & effort to shift & take another approach if doing the same method 10x over hasn’t worked for you. “we shift every second” sure but you didn’t shift into your desired reality in the past thirty. “im saying an affirmation & rolling over & hoping ill wake up in my dr” & how has that worked out for you ? just because this has maybe worked for other people, doesn’t mean it'll work for you. everyone is different. people require more time & effort to get something right then others just like subjects like art or english come easier to students.

♡perfection.

not everything has to be perfect. script isn’t completed ? so what ? you’ve been saying “im not ready yet” for the five months. don’t put off good things out of fear of them not being exactly how you want it because it will never be perfect because perfection isn’t real. if you don’t have everything figured out — that’s fine. why ? because life will sort itself out. this remains true right here & in your desired life. if it’s any comfort, everything will fall into place.

♡neutrality.

if you’re someone who wakes up after an attempt saying “i’ll never shift, i hate this reality” then you’re kinda sabotaging yourself in a way. your creating the mindset that this is the “bad” place when shifting is “good”. that’s not true. everything is entirely neutral until you define it as such. in addition, you are focusing more on the “haven’t” & giving that more attention to & what you give attention to will only grow until it’s so big you can’t see anything else.

♡listening.

people who want things don’t sit & complain about not having them, they persist & would do anything to get their desires & live in that reality. instead of saying “i didn’t shift” & sulking about it, take it as a learning experience to see what does & doesn’t work for you; your body is showing you what not to do so listen to yourself.

#desired reality #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting #shiftok #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifter

[rongzhi]

hi, i apologize if this is weird for me to ask, but do you have any resources that could help a foreigner with naming chinese original characters? im a white american who's writing a story that has southern chinese characters, and i want to make sure im properly naming my characters and not giving them nonsensical names. any criticism and advice is appreciated. thank you ♡

hmm with regards to naming Chinese OCs, I think if you are going into it with very little experience with Chinese names, it's best to first take a look at popular names based on year and gender, and then go from there.

Assuming your characters are Han Chinese/have Han Chinese names, check out these articles about naming trends:

What can we tell from the evolution of Han Chinese names?

Most Popular Chinese Names (trends in 2023 and across the decades)

Looking at appropriate names by generation is a good starting point just so you don't end up picking a name that sounds like the Chinese equivalent of naming a zoomer "Agatha" or "Gertrude" or something like that. This is a good method of quickly naming minor characters.

Beyond that, a lot can honestly be explained away by character back story/the intentions of the parents (although note: Chinese people are never named directly after senior relatives, as this is taboo). One thing to consider is that, sure, some people are just named after pretty words or whatever, but there can also be significant qualities/traits that give meaning to a name. So don't be afraid to choose characters that describe invisible/intangible qualities, because if it's just fluff, that can sound ridiculous too (my mom still laughs at all the ugly flower name suggestions my nainai came up with for me and my sibling, for example).

As the articles mention, some names have more feminine or masculine implications than others, but in general, Chinese names are gender neutral. If a girl has a more 'masculine' name, one could easily assume it's because the parents wanted to imbue her with certain traits. This is why it's worthwhile to consider which characters make up the names you choose, even if you never have anyone mention it.

Another thing I'd say is, while not a rule of thumb, I tend to give less important characters in stories monosyllabic names. No need to break out the Ruijie or Bairuo or whatever for a throwaway character.

If your characters are from southern China somewhere, then another thing to consider if how they are nicknamed; southerners more often give people nicknames like Ah-[syllable from given name], so this would be a clearer indicator to the reader as to where they are (similarly, how they address family members may offer these clues as well). For region specific names, you should also look to surnames based on regional prevalence, as certain names are more common in some provinces due to migration patterns as well as sinicization of non Han surnames throughout history.

Chinese Surnames wikipedia

Hundred Family Surnames wikipedia

Tangential but interesting article about the history of Chinese family names

Hopefully that helps a bit or maybe it's just treading over things you already know. If worst comes to worst, just ask someone you trust what they think about the names you've come up with.

#text #answered ask #long post #language ask

[maximumkillshot]

"I Can't Lose You" Part 3

Warnings: This one is bad... Like bad bad. Uhm so please pay attention to these warnings. *Brings out a scroll with a solemn face.* Descriptions of Blood, Emergency medical procedure explainations, Shock, Grief, Chan gets shoved once, (IF YOU WANT NO SPOILERS AND KNOW YOU CAN HANDLE THE FIC CONTINUE) Child Loss, Descriptions of miscarriage.

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader

Characters: OC Doctor, Stray Kids, Reader

A/N: I know the cut is very high up but I needed to be sure that it wouldn't trigger someone would get triggered by the story. I am so sorry I am doing this to y'all. But here we are. Enjoy getting your heart ripped out? I guess. IF YOU WANT MORE TELL ME!

Also remember, this is a fan fic. All of the boys are so sweet IRL.

Stray Kids! Masterlist

Overall Masterlist

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

Previously:

You looked at Bin and Han and begged them to stay. Both of them looked at the doctor and said that whatever was happening, they weren't leaving. The doctor could see that you really needed them and as long as they were not in the way, it didn’t matter whether they were here or not. 

After the nerve block and the procedure, the doctor cleaned you up and draped a warm blanket over you, while the nurses hooked up a transfusion and closely monitored you. The doctor asked for Bin in the hall while Han went right back to your hand without the IV in it, so he could hold it properly.

Bin tried to ignore it during the procedure but the look that the doctor had on his face when he was doing the preliminary exam was haunting. Whatever he was called out here for… it wasn’t good.

NOW:

Once both Bin and the Doctor were in the hall and closed the sliding door separating you from the bustling main hallway, Bin got that feeling again. That sick feeling that something was wrong. The doctor looked like he was trying to stay professional. 

It was then that Bin noticed the doctor's wedding ring. He wondered to himself if the doctor was like Bin. So deep in love that seeing anyone else doesn’t just feel blasphemous, but it’s so out of the question it’s nauseating. The doctor began.

“Are you her husband?” He asked.

“No…” Bin replied. He could feel the bile rising in his throat with that one question. He immediately thought, If I was this never would’ve happened.

“Are you family?” The doctor looked at him.

“Yes. Are they okay?” Bin looked at the doctor.

“She lost a lot of blood, through something called a hemorrhage. It’s a rare complication especially this early on. She wouldn’t have made it if this happened at home. But it’s under control now.” the doctor said. He seemed to be trying to be as sympathetic as possible, making the next question sting more.

“Okay, and the baby?” Bin asked as he was trying to hold on to the possibility, some shred of hope that you and the baby were okay. He didn’t want the answer to be…

“I’m sorry.” The doctor slowly shook his head as he bowed his head slightly. The doctor looked guilty, like this was the worst part of his job, not being able to save someone. 

“How? Why?” Bin asked as it felt like his heart twisted. He didn’t know how you were going to get through this. He knew you too well. He knew that the pain you were about to feel, the emotional pain, would spell your demise... Bin couldn’t wouldn’t let that happen. 

“There is a cause-and-effect relationship that stress, extreme traumatic stress, like what you described, can cause a mis--” “Please don’t finish that word.” Bin pleaded with tears in his eyes. That word. He’s never hated a word in his life, until now. A word like that, even the word Death is kinder. To die you need to have lived in the first place, breathe air, feel emotions, like happiness, fear, love… None of those things happened for your child, through no fault of their mother. The same woman he’s staring at, the very same woman he always stared at. 

“The fact that she went through the shock as well as the prolonged stress after that shock, and didn’t have any previous symptoms of that happening prior to that, rules out all of the other options.” he paused and looked at his ring. Bin could tell what he was thinking, the doctor’s jaw tight, I could never dream of doing that, then continued, “You know her better than I do. Will she need something to calm her down?”

“Yes… but I don’t think she’ll accept it.” Bin looked back at you and Han. You looked so out of it. Like you were and were not there simultaneously. He has never seen you like this. From what he could see it looked like Han was doing his best to distract you. He was playing with your fingers as he joked. 

It was convincing enough to relax you, but Bin knew better. His eyes are always so expressive, if he's genuinely relaxed, his eyes show it. Bin could tell that Han was many things at this point in time, and worry free was not one of them. 

“Would you like to tell her?” the doctor asked. That question made Bin think a little bit. If he did tell you, he didn't know if you'd believe him. It's easier to ignore reality when the person breaking the news isn't a doctor. You'd accept it if it came from the doctor. 

“She’ll believe it if you say it… Just have the medicine on standby. Also, what do we do to help her? What’s next?” He asked.

“Well like I said her bleeding was extensive... I want to keep her for at least a full 24 hours, in case the bleeding starts again. I’ll also arrange for her to meet with the OBGYN during that time as well, to make sure we got all of the tissue out, that way there’s no chance of another hemorrhage or infection. Sounds like a plan?” The doctor asked.

“Yes… thank you." Bin took a deep breath before he went in, the doctor trailing behind him. 

The doctor closed the sliding door as Bin looked at you, then at Han briefly. He lowered the guardrail and made eye contact with Han, who mirrored his actions shortly after. 

“Mrs. Y/L/N” the doctor began but you cut him off. 

“My baby. Please tell me my baby’s okay… please,” the urgency written on your face. 

Han's eyes were set on Changbin. The minute you asked that question, Bin lowered his head, jaw tight, and tears were already beginning to form. When Bin looked at Han, he already knew. 

The doctor looked at you and said “I...I’m so sorry.” 

Your face showed nothing but confusion… you had just gotten the first ultrasound. You had it done a week ago. No, you saw your baby.

“Y/N” Bin asked gently. He saw the look on your face, and it killed him. Seeing your brain reach for any other outcome other than the one right in your face. He tucked some stray strands of hair behind your ear as he watched and waited for the understanding to reach your face, it didn’t.

“No, it can’t be, I just got the ultrasound done. No,” you replied.

Han and Bin looked at each other. Han's eyebrows dipped, as he processed and tried to brace for impact. Bin on the other hand, was willing himself to take a step back, knowing that you needed to hear this. It had to get through, that's the only way you could start healing. 

The doctor looked solemn as he said, “Mrs. Y/L/N I could tell that you were and still are contracting. The reason why your body is doing it, from what I can discern, is because your body went through extreme stress and emotional trauma, when that happens this early, your body rejects the pregnancy. That does not mean that this is your fault, it's the opposite. It’s completely out of your control.”

Bin could see the cogs turning in your brain as you slowly started shaking your head. Reality starting to seep in. Bin wished that you didn't have to go through this. That you got the fairytale ending without the heartbreak. That you didn't have to face the death of your own child. That pain, anguish, and suffering. 

The doctor continued, “There is an even rarer condition in which the body rejecting the pregnancy ends in a condition called a hemorrhage. It’s a technical term for excessive bleeding, in this case, it happened because your body is trying to expel the tissues in your cervix. Because it was so sudden, your cervix didn’t have time to open. When I examined you, you weren’t even at half a centimeter dilation, and all of that tissue was trying to be expelled. That was why I had to do that procedure, to get the tissue out so bleeding could be minimized. I’m so sorry… but you had a miscarriage.”

Once that word was said the scream that you let out was something that Han nor Bin have ever heard in their lives. It was soul-crushing. Both of them could hear your heart breaking, shattered on the ground. Bin and Han wanted nothing more than to pick up those pieces and fix it. They knew that they couldn't, this is a hurt they can't fix.

Han held you as you screamed, begged, pleaded… You looked at Bin. “Bin please, look at me. Please tell me it's not true… Please you don’t lie to me, I know you'll tell the truth pleeease.”

Bin looked at you, “I can’t tell you it’s not true. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The look of devastation on his face only sealed the fact. Bin has never lied to you so why would he start now? Especially with something as serious as whether or not you had a miscarriage. 

The look that painted his face, brows upturned as his eye contact was nothing short of empathetic. You could tell he wanted to lie. 

He wanted it to be false, that it was just some freak minor bleeding… that the baby was okay…he wanted it so badly… but you can't want something into existence. 

That realization hit you in a split second as the monitors that were connected to you, measuring vitals, started going off. You could feel nothing but pain. The involuntary gnawing, pulling pain. The blood, the cold from lack of blood in your body…The physical agony was nothing compared to what you felt in that split second. 

Your heart rate was literally too fast for you to register, pain surging through you as comprehension slammed into you like a tsunami. The baby is gone. Your baby. Your heart rate was through the roof and the doctor went to your IV.

“Y/N I’m going to give you something to calm you down okay? Your heart can’t take this stress, it’ll give out.” The doctor pushed the medication. 

“I want my baby…Bin I want my baby… Han please, my baby.” You sobbed as you held on to Han. 

All Bin could do was say, “I know you do, I’m so sorry. I’m here. I’m sorry.”

Han got on the gurney with you and cradled you. He cried with you. Prayed that it was just a nightmare. Han looked to Bin, only to find him trying to fight the tears that were falling down his face. Bin's soul was hurting for you, bargaining with whatever powers out there, to give himself up for you and your child. He knew it was irrational but if he could've, he would've. 

As soon as the medicine kicked in your breathing started to slow. You still whimpered and cringed as you felt your body bearing down, still shaking slightly and cold to the touch. Han draped his jacket over you, resting you against his chest, singing to you, to calm you. 

Every once in a while reality would crash into you again, you’d reach for Bin. You knew why you did, he was always there. He always understood you on a deeper level. Sometimes he knew what you needed when you didn’t even know you needed it. 

Eventually he pulled up a chair and laid his head on his forearm, hand in yours and close to his lips. as he gently rubbed circles into your hand with his thumb. As soon as you’d squeeze that hand he’d squeeze back as he nuzzled into your hand. His way of letting you know that yes, this is the reality, but he is still here. Wordlessly, endlessly, he’d be here. Sometimes you’d comb your fingers through his hair, the feeling somewhat comforting.  

You were so tired it went down to your bones. Sometimes only mustering a long blink at the pain. Eventually your vitals started looking good enough to transport.

The doctor came in with solemn reverence, like he was intruding on a funeral.“Y/N, we’re going to keep you overnight at the least, you’re going to have a visit from the OBGYN in the morning, okay? We have your bed ready so soon someone’s going to come to transport you.”

You just looked up at the doctor and nodded, “T-thank you” you hiccupped, “Hannie and Binnie are staying with me.”

“I’ve already put a cot in the room for them. I wish I could’ve done more,” he said with a sad smile. Bin got up and shook his hand, thanking him.

As soon as the transport nurses came to get you Bin said “I’ll see you in a bit. I just need to do something really quick.” you nodded and Bin kissed your forehead. He had to go back to the house. He didn’t know why immediately, just that he had to. 

He was on autopilot the entire ride to the house, except for the red lights.  He didn’t need to be strong at those lights. He’d scream where no one could hear him. Letting the pain out as images of you flashed. Smiling, then flashing to the scream you let out. Laughing, then sobbing in that hospital gurney. Cooking with him, to crying on Han. 

His screams were from mourning, pain, and frustration. He mourned the baby and you. The pain for you, the pain of realizing all of the things that you won’t experience. The frustration of not being able to see it before. To protect you, guard you. He wanted to rip something… someone… apart. There. That was the impulse that drove him back to the house.

At the last red light, he breathed deep, not even wanting to. He used whatever force that was left over as he screamed one last time. Everything he did, your child would never experience. Every scream echoed, redoubling the anguish he had for the both of you. Culminating into this, silence as he turned the corner to the house.

To his surprise, all of the other member’s cars were still at the house when he pulled up. When he parked, he looked at the clock on his dashboard, it was 2 a.m. Had it been 6 hours already? 

He felt his adrenaline kick up as he opened the door. He found everyone still wide awake, waiting for answers, but one look at Bin and they gathered what they needed.

Chan walked into the room from the kitchen and his jaw dropped upon seeing him.

“Bin…what happened?” Felix asked gently, hand’s slightly raised, as if approaching a wild animal. The aura on Bin wasn’t his aloof, goofy, self, it was the opposite; dark, threatening, dangerous. Bin’s eyes were trained on Chan, the closer he got, the more Bin felt his resolve slipping… Chan looked at him up and down, concern and horror written on his face. It was only then that Bin noticed he was covered in your blood.

His resolved snapped at that realization, upper lip ticking into a repressed snarl as he breathed “I’m… going to kill you.” He made a B-line to Chan. Felix, Minho, and Jeongin had to hold him back. 

Once Bin realized he couldn’t get to Chan, he screamed, “Was it worth it?! HUH?!!” His veins were popping out under his skin as he struggled to get free, “Was it?! Tell me! You hurt and nearly killed the only person I’ve ever loved. She’s dead inside now, all thanks to you!” More flashes accompanied that sentence, him picking you up and watching you go limp, eyes fluttering.

Felix looked at Bin and said, “What?... Hyung..” Felix's voice trailed off, trying to process what he heard. Felix knew that if he heard Bin correctly…he couldn’t even complete that thought.

Bin’s eyes snapped to Felix and he relaxed to the point where all three let go.

“The doctor said that because of the severe stress and emotional trauma she endured her body rejected the pregnancy.” He bum-rushed Chan and slammed him against the wall, while everyone was either in shock or processing. Felix was the first and only one to try to get Bin off Chan. Changbin was just too strong for the younger man, he ignored Felix as he tried wordlessly to pry Bin away from Chan. 

Bin continued staring into Chan's eyes, “The miscarriage was so sudden, in fact, that she hemorrhaged and almost bled to death because her cervix couldn’t open on its own in time. They had to scrape the tissue out just to stop it from killing her! And she looked at me to see if it was really true because I don’t LIE to her. Then they had to sedate her because her heart was going to give out when she realized that it was true.”

At this point Bin tightened his grip on Chan, “You are lucky that she asked for me to stay with her… If not I would kill you, right here. You are going to stay AWAY until or even IF she ever wants to see you again. I mean it Chan, if you come near her, I will end you. It’s not a threat, it’s a promise.” With that, he dropped Chan and went to the washroom. He washed off as much blood as he could and went to his room to change into spare clothes. He wanted to destroy everything in his room. His keepsakes, his picture frames of the boys all together. There was only one picture frame that he did smash to dust before he left his room… the one of himself and Chan, on Chan’s wedding day. He picked up his bloody clothes, stalked back out to Chan, and threw the clothing at him. 

He was shaking with rage as he said, “To YOU… this could’ve been a game or a thrill, fucking with her heart. But THAT!” he pointed to the clothing, “that is the reality. A child is dead, your child and it almost killed Y/N too. Next time you want to contact her, look at what you did to both of them while you do it.”

Before Chan could say anything Bin was slamming the door shut behind him with such force that the wall itself vibrated. Right as he made it to his car Felix ran to him. “Can I go with you?” he asked.

“I’m not leaving the hospital for the whole night, you know that, right?” 

Felix nodded and got into the passenger seat. The whole ride over Felix couldn’t help but to stare at Bin. He has never seen him like this. So enraged that he was three seconds away from crushing Chris’ windpipe. 

He also noted how Bin didn’t seem to know that he was covered in blood until Chris looked at him. Even now he could see Bin’s grip on the steering wheel was so strong his knuckles were white. He didn’t know exactly what happened in those four hours they weren’t given updates, and Felix knows just by seeing Bin, he never wants to find out. 

As soon as Bin entered your hospital room he heard you say “Binnie?”

Honestly, he could melt every time you call him that.

“I’m back…” he chuckled slightly… “And I brought some sunshine with me…”

The minute he looked into your eyes, you smiled just a little. That was progress. He kissed your forehead as Felix looked you over. 

Felix is like your little brother, so the minute you saw him and he saw you, you both started crying. Han got off the bed knowing Lix would want to be with you for a bit, for both of your sakes. 

This gave Han and Bin time to talk out in the hall.

“How’re her contractions?” Bin asked.

“They’re slower but still strong. The doctor says that it’ll be strong for at least 5 to 10 hours.” Han reported.

“And you? How’re you doing?” Bin asked. He knows Han has anxiety, seeing all of this and being as strong as he’s been is not easy. 

“I’m… Out of all people, Bin.” Han shook his head. Han has known Chan the longest and he would’ve never expected him to do this. 

“I know”

“Please tell me you didn’t hit him.” Han said.

“Nah… She needs me more than I need to beat him to a pulp… I don’t think he’ll be bothering her anymore though.” That’s at least what Bin hopes. Everything is so raw. A little over 8 hours before this you were at a restaurant to celebrate your 3rd anniversary. Now everything was all wrong, a nightmare incarnate and no one can wake up from reality. 

“Hyung… She can’t go back to that house.” Han said as he took a deep breath.

“I know. All I know is that we'll do what she’s comfortable with.”

“Agreed…Bin?” Han asked.

“Yeah?”

“It should’ve been you with her. From the beginning.” Han looked to Bin, a look of understanding and empathy for Bin. Han could always see the way Bin looked at you when no one else was looking. Everything you said would be committed to his memory, even the smallest things like which brand of sesame oil you like best for your bulgogi marinade. 

“I know. That doesn’t mean that I can’t be here for her from now on.”

Han just smiled and both of them went back into the room. 

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

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#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #bang chan x reader #im not okay #this one drained me #Trying to write about this is hard #I know it needs to be said though #keep tissues close and blankets closer #skz angst #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz #bangchan #changbin #han #for the love of comfort #Descriptions of Blood #Emergency medical procedure explainations #Shock #Grief #Chan gets shoved once #Child Loss #Descriptions of miscarriage.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

hiii! how are ya?:) can you do shanks headcanons with a female reader who is pretty, sassy and stuck up/conceited?? she’s not easily impressed either

idk if i’m the only one but we need more mean reader. and i mean the kind that can support themself and isn’t a pushover 😭

anyway! don’t worry about it if you don’t feel like it! have a good one!

OoOOoohhh I'm working on developing an OC that fits this exact persona, actually.

Not shipping her with Shanks, but I like this. I like this very much. His golden retriever energy paired with a catty manipulative witch?

Funnnnnnn 😍

Cat and Mouse

Shanks x Mean!Reader

SFW Headcanons

♫♬ "Dogtown" — The Fratellis ♬♫

Make me insane, I'll be the voice of restrain

I'll take your bullwhips and stones without a hint of complaint

You show just enough interest to keep him coming back for more.

Playing into his flirtations just the slightest bit, then pretending to be bored by them.

He knows he can't just win you over by doting on you with lavish gifts, given you can buy yourself anything you want, but that doesn't stop him—he has something new to give you every time he shows up in port.

It's honestly adorable watching him try to impress you, whether it's with silly jokes and pick-up lines that you roll your eyes at (and laugh about later when he isn’t around) or with lavish stories of his adventures that you refuse to be impressed by. He's like an overgrown kid.

You know he's completely smitten, and stringing him along is just much too entertaining.

He feels much the same where you're concerned—he enjoys that you don't fall all over yourself in response to his not-so-subtle flirting. That you roll your eyes and purse your lips despite subtly leaning in closer.

That you'll scold him, call him an absolute moron all while fluttering your eyelashes and trailing a finger across his jawline.

You're a challenge, and he is always up for a challenge.

You're not sure if you'll ever give in completely, but you do enjoy a good game of cat and mouse, and it's made all the more entertaining by the fact that the "mouse" presently throwing himself at your feet is one of the most powerful men in the world.

He doesn't consider himself the mouse, however; he plays clueless, but he knows better.

It's obvious, no matter how coy you play, that you're charmed by his silliness. He's caught you more than enough times chuckling under your breath at his dumb jokes, giving a fond little smile in his direction when you think he isn’t paying attention.

You might call him names, belittle him for being childish, shove him away when he gets too bold...but not without making little provocative comments here and there to make sure he knows you're just toying with him.

And he absolutely loves it. He knows he's already won you over, whether you're willing to admit it or not.

At this point his crew are taking bets on which of you is going to crack first.

(Proabaly him.)

Whatever the endgame happens to be, he's enjoying the chase just as much as you are, and is willing to keep it going as long as it takes to make you his.

#shanks #red haired shanks #shanks one piece #shanks opla #one piece #opla #opla headcanon #one piece headcanon #shanks headcanons #shanks x reader #headcanons #fanfiction #shanks fanfiction

[rainba]

Ok hear me out…

Luka and kairos with INSANE baby fever B)

Luka and Kairos both definitely experience baby fever, to some degree… It hits Luka harder than Kairos, but I like to think that Kairos’ side of things is much funnier. 

I… Thiiiink I answered this ask right? ｡ﾟ(｡ﾉωヽ｡)ﾟ｡I hope I did!

This ended up being a lot fluffier than I thought it would be...

(Darling’s gender isn’t mentioned! Only mentions whether or not they can bear children. (つω`｡)

Kairos knows that he’s broke and definitely can’t afford to raise a kid– not yet, anyway! But once he continues building up his portfolio and raises his prices, he will eventually make a decent wage!

If darling is capable of having children, Kairos’ mind would basically become mushy as he imagines your all’s children together. Like… Whose eye color would they inherit? Would they be a boy or a girl? Ooh, would they take after him and also be an artist–!? There are so many possibilities to consider! 

Kairos would absent-mindedly start drawing out what your all’s future children might look like. ^^;;;;

But also, most importantly: what would you all name your children? 

Kairos would definitely come up with the edgiest, kind of corniest names ever. They sound more like OC names than anything, names like, “Twilight!” Or “Lucifer!” So, unless you also want to name your kids that, you’ll have to tell him that you don’t really like those. ^^;;;;;

If you’re a darling that can’t have kids, then Kairos would also be happy to adopt!! When he has baby fever, he’d get all excited about the idea of going out and going through the process of adoption with you. It’d be a long journey, but a journey he’s willing to take if it’s with you!

The most kids he would want/be able to handle is two, but he’ll ultimately let you decide how many kids you'll both have. (o^ ^o) Kairos would feel so nervous taking in someone of any age, but he’d still try his best!!

He’d absolutely be the pushover dad who just does whatever his partner wants him to.

｡ﾟ(｡ﾉωヽ｡)ﾟ｡

As for Luka, the insane baby fever really does hit him hard sometimes. Like– throughout his entire life, the idea of being a father has sounded nice to him. And the idea of raising a child with you makes his heart and mind feel all fuzzy.

As shown in a few posts of him before… He mostly gets that baby fever when he’s in heat. ^^;;;;;; The thought of having a family with you just sends him over the edge, and all he can think about is fucking you until his dream becomes a reality.

Honestly, I think that Luka would be a decent father. Overprotective? Absolutely. Overbearing? Sometimes, for sure. Cruel and abusive? Not a chance in hell. (ﾉ_ヽ)

If darling can get pregnant, and they do end up pregnant, there would be a few nights where Luka is unable to sleep at night, tossing and turning in bed as he constantly glances over at you. You’re lying there so peacefully, carrying his child… He’d lovingly place his soft ears against your stomach while caressing you gently. He can’t help but feel that he’s incredibly lucky to have you– the love of his life– his obsession- his everything. The first and only person to ever make him feel alive. ⸜( *ˊᵕˋ* )⸝ The two of you are truly bound together, forever. ღ

Luka would honestly end up falling asleep with his head on (or beside) your stomach, all curled up with his pink tail wrapped around you. (o´∀`o)

He knows that he can be, um… An asshole, to say the least. And that he’s not very good at understanding complex emotions. But when you have his child, he’ll do everything in his power to get better at being empathetic and patient, for the sake of you and your all's family. (｡╯︵╰｡)

(Luka wouldn't stop his games with you entirely, though. It's always gonna be in his nature to tease and mess with you (´-ω-`). )

When it comes to adoption, Luka would have absolutely no problems with adopting multiple kids. For him, his ideal family size is four children!! He would definitely be able to provide for all of them– although, he might end up stuck at work doing overtime more frequently. But doing more work doesn’t matter to him, so long as everyone is happy. (=`ω´=)

Also, side note, Luka would definitely want you to be a stay-at-home, full-time parent. ^^;;;;;; It’s a small fantasy of his to always come home from work and see you all happy and cozy, smiling warmly as you welcome him back. Maybe you’ll have a meal prepared for him, the house will be all tidied up and your all’s kids will be excited that he’s home from work.~

The holidays, the vacations, the good and bad days… (っ˘ω˘ς ) Luka would like to live that kind of life with you, one day, if you let him.

#ask #kairos posting #luka posting #the idea of kairos being a dad is so funny to me #also i used to never be that interested in fluff #but i think i get it now #( ´ ▿ ` )

[sisterdivinium]

It’s tempting to think of Jillian as an atheist given her connexion to science, her confrontation with the church in s1 and simply as a counterpoint to all the religious characters around her. I’ve used the word for her myself in fic before, but I did it fully knowing that Jillian is perhaps the character who most wants to believe.

There’s an implication that she speaks from experience when she tells Kristian one doesn’t ever really leave the church…

… And her firm principle of proving faith and science can coexist shows she has no intention of dismantling faith in itself or the value people find in spirituality.

When Luther supposedly nailed his objections to that fateful church door, he didn't intend to shake the core of what faith actually is—quite the contrary, one could argue.

Neither is Jillian trying to destabilise faith in itself... The difference is that she just decided to build her own door instead.

The church might stand in her way, yes, but one could could make a case about how it is more due to their keeping of divinium than to the criticism she directs at Vincent on the subject of Hell and the subjugation of women. She might well believe it—or any part of her performance during most of season one, really—but her conflict with the institution lies less in the way of ideology than in matters of practical consequences.

Were it not so, wouldn’t she have been a little more resistant to her son’s visions of an angel? Why believe in a child’s prophetic drawings otherwise? Even if she by any chance didn’t consider the giver of those visions an angel, the very fact of taking a vision seriously would suggest some degree of fidelity to the very idea of there being something more, something else than the life we know in this plane of existence.

If she doesn’t admit the existence of a god outright, she at least lends credence to the idea that there is something. We might not be able to take her fully at her word in the scenes where she’s playing her part as a seeker of knowledge maligned by the Vatican, but there is some amount of truth to what she says. She might not have truly found Heaven, she might not be able to prove her portal actually leads there...

… But she most certainly wants to be right. For Michael’s sake, there must be something else, even if not precisely what has been foreseen by scripture.

And, even so, she finds worth in that very scripture she doubts.

Perhaps she’s being honest when she tells Vincent she likes the stories—there’s a lot of knowledge to be found in even the simplest of them to she who knows how to seek it.

Perhaps there’s an underlying attachment of hers to the Bible, a past she cannot really abandon. It’s not all that common for people with absolutely no ties to Catholicism to have something like the image of a saint as decoration hanging in the background.

Sure, there are other religious elements scattered in her workplace including a Buddha, but it’s a man who used to be an archivist at the Vatican she hires, not a defected monk or rabbi.

Yes, she will work with anyone who is equally willing to work with her. It’s not from the goodness of her heart as there is a component of selfishness in such cooperation—one to which she admits herself—but her attitude is also a testament to the openness she has concerning the results she might obtain. Maybe the OCS is right, maybe there’s a God and saints and Heaven and Hell…

It doesn’t really matter as long as there is something, something to work towards, something to seek.

Or it didn’t matter—while Michael was alive.

She has had her proof of there being more... And she has paid a high price for learning of it.

It’s a pity we don’t know what she would have done with this information. How do we react when what we believe is confirmed to be true but not in the way we expected or desired?

Whatever shock the nuns have experienced to their faith in this business with Adriel, the perversion of the power of prayer and all else they've survived during season two, Jillian is likely to have felt the very same blow right alongside them.

#warrior nun #jillian salvius #exercises in observation #i don't recall what prompted this actually. the fic i'm writing i guess? #i never write anything directly on the computer and this was a little exception so sorry for that as it tends to weaken my texts #me cackling as i DO have saints decorating my house despite believing in fuck all. they're family heirlooms okay? #actually it's saints AND buddhas AND other little images of god knows what lol

[vigilskeep]

hi! ive seen you talk about your surana a bunch but i dont know if ive seen her full story. what were some of the pivotal decisions she made? i love hearing you talk about your ocs, theyre always so in depth and thought out!

oh thank you!! :) my surana is my Eldest Daughter from my very first full playthrough of a dragon age game, so i think a lot of people newer to the blog (like... from less than a year and a half ago probably lmao) have less of the context in complete form. so i will attempt to summarise!! it may be... long...

minerva surana is a manipulative, driven elven circle mage, heart-breakingly willing to sacrifice whatever she believes is necessary for her Grand Goals, who is often so busy playing 5d chess she forgets she’s a twenty-one year old with no experience of the world outside the tower

okay it did turn out fucking long the rest is under the cut its like 9 bulky paragraphs enjoy

her family were tevinter liberati, elven slaves who had devoted themselves to buying their way out and very recently succeeded. her parents were desperate to see her and her elder sibling grow up knowing only freedom, and sent their children south with another part of the family while they remained to pay off the last of their debts. the journey was long and difficult, and they had little left when they ended up in the denerim alienage. in a twist of bitter irony, magic that might have made minerva someone of value in the imperium saw her freedom once more revoked in the south. minerva remembers nothing of tevinter, and only a few fragments of what came next: of light through the vhenadahl’s branches glinting on a templar’s blade, of her sibling fighting them and being knocked to the ground, terribly still, with blood in their hair, and of her grandmother saying what she might have said many times on that long journey south: we can survive anything, as long as we never look back. ironically, minerva often took that to heart by denying all memory prior to the circle.

young apprentice minerva was a sullen child, with few friends; karl thekla took an elder brother’s interest, and jowan clung to her talent. she only really flourished when, after her terror of her natural gift for spirit magic saw her self-hatred turn dangerous in her early teens, first enchanter irving took an interest. he was a father figure to her, and he showed her how to channel her power into control, and her distress into ambition. newfound devotion to elemental magic saw her hailed as a prodigy, and surely a future first enchanter with irving’s tutelage. (only irving considered her too headstrong for the role. he never told her, fostering the drive he had cultivated, both fearful for the state she might return to if he didn’t, and curious as to what else she might become.) she grew up arrogant and beautiful and deeply loyal to the circle, learning that it was only the weak and the defiant who would fail to thrive there, and convinced she was neither. many of her peers wanted to be her, and few of them wanted to spend much time in her company. except jowan, still the little brother hiding in her shadow, and halliserre amell, a rebellious rival with a winning smile, who made up for their lack of her discipline and raw power with sheer brilliance, and whose heated arguments eventually developed into... ah, something else heated.

not long before the start of the game, amell told her they were going to accept tranquillity. it didn’t matter how clever they were; with their weak magic, they would die in the harrowing. they’d only been so defiant of the circle before because, having accepted their fate, the risks were nothing to them. furious and unable to admit it was because she was in love, the last thing minerva ever said to them when they were whole was that they were a coward not to try. when jowan told her he feared he too would be made tranquil, minerva was still recovering from the loss, not to mention flushed with even more arrogance than normal from her own successful harrowing. she had been the perfect circle mage all her life, twice as good as everyone else to make up for every rumour about where she was from. surely she had earned one defiance. surely she could save this one thing, her oldest friend. and she is a loyal person, in her way, emotion powering her fierce drive, incapable of abandoning what she has set her heart on. irving, from whom she had learned everything, was ahead of her every step of the way. he arranged for her to be taken in by the grey wardens. she had proved herself as headstrong and unsuitable as he had feared—and she was shocked and bitterly betrayed to finally see that—but he also believed this might bring her to where she would truly belong.

as a grey warden, minerva’s highest concern is perception. when the stakes of the game are revealed, she has enough hubris to see it as a chance to not just save but change the world. defeating the archdemon isn’t enough. she needs to be seen defeating the archdemon, at the forefront, as an elven mage; she has enough idealism to believe it will really matter for her and people like her, and enough shrewd cynicism to consider what she may have to sacrifice to achieve it. mostly she approaches problems with the skill for diplomacy and management that irving taught her, with that good good Master Coercion skill. she gets many of the “better” and certainly more peaceful quest outcomes, not always motivated by altruism, but determined to be remembered well when she leaves each faction behind. her one great sacrifice of this goal to be seen as the perfect mage is when she takes up blood magic, determined after she sees its power that she alone can handle it, to get the job done and keep what’s hers alive fight after fight. but that only makes her more dedicated to her actions elsewhere

the real test and most pivotal moment of her arc is at the landsmeet. she has arranged anora’s marriage to an alistair hardened for the role (once more following irving’s example, learning to teach ambition as he had taught hers. is there love in that, or just selfishness? she doesn’t know). all that matters is that the joint rule neatly fulfils her desire for compromise to please all parties. but then she struggles between two aspects of her goal: she wants to be seen, personally, as the victor; she does not want every noble in ferelden to see her kill the hero of river dane with magic. she knows how that scene will be remembered, in the end. when riordan suggests recruiting him instead, it seems the perfect solution to everything, the salvation of the day. and then she realises she’s broken alistair’s heart, just when he’s breaking hers. she is incapable of backing down in front of them all (it’s only to alistair, her alistair, but she can’t do it—not to a human, and not to someone part of her will always see as a templar—not when everything she wants was so close.) he abandons her for the throne she taught him to want. she goes on with loghain in the party, and eventually—unable to let loghain snatch the final sacrifice from her grasp, and realising she does want to win and live, after it all—convinces him to do the dark ritual.

in terms of her most important relationships with companions: minerva traditionally romances zevran, who is in many ways uniquely her match having learned the same bitter lessons with the crows that she learned from the circle, and who is so dear to her and capable of lightening her heart when no-one else can. i’ve also experimented with the idea of her romancing alistair, to really dramatise the Landsmeet Divorce and capitalise on future political shenanigans where she could one day be his mistress, but more traditionally they are simply an extremely closely trauma-bonded pair of people who are incapable, at least that year, of really understanding each other deep down. it falls into a pattern where she loves someone with all that fierce drive, enough to die for them, but she will always prioritise what she thinks they need over what they are saying and what they want, often with misjudgements and terrible consequences for them both. it was true with amell, it’s true for many others

she has something very intense and homoerotic going on with morrigan, she has a strained relationship with leliana and wynne, and she has respect and comradeship and a fair bit of fundamental disagreement with sten and loghain. the awakening squad are the people she will consider family for life, most notably nathaniel who she started out not liking at all and is now her work wife, her right hand, can finish her sentences, etc.; anders, who remembers her as karl’s annoying teacher’s pet telltale little sister and is still sometimes baffled by who she’s become; velanna, who makes minerva her most genuine self by having regular screaming matches with her as a sign of affection; and oghren who tried to quit drinking at the same time she tried to quit blood magic, leading to many conversations that deeply baffled everyone around them.

the “current” minerva surana is a sharp-tongued leader who was born for the role of warden-commander, who loves her work and that it matters, who has a truer confidence that is less blindly arrogant and more willing to admit to mistakes, who has worked her breathless way up to h*lding h*ands in public with someone she loves, who has finally learned the hard lesson that the world needs more than an heroic example who followed all the rules to truly be bettered... and who, as rebellion brews, has never been one to sit back and watch while others changed the world

#minerva surana #i THINK thats everything major... it must be #minerva enjoyers who im sure remember more of my posts than me tell me if i missed anything crucial writing this in one sitting #shes my babygirl. thats crucial. #i didnt cover the exact details of her quest decisions bc i think abt changing them a lot #def bringing the sides together in nature of the beast. bhelen supporter and she rlly cultivates that alliance she loves orzammar #ive never played it but in retrospect i believe she wouldve killed connor #and. saved the circle. given that the other option is [checks notes] murdering her dad for the crime of [checks notes again] being tortured

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Eight

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.1k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+ Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, excessive swearing, mentions of sexually explicit content, self doubt, OC has anxiety, poor communication, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is (once again) bad at feelings

The morning after

The next morning, John calls.

Simon and Johnny have left to get some food shopping in, allowing me some much needed time to decompress. I woke up this morning feeling... I don't know. Conflicted. Confused. Like the consequences of getting myself into this - whatever this is - are finally starting to land.

"Hey, Tali," John says softly, and I can hear voices talking in the background. A woman, not Marcella, and a man who sounds fairly pissed off. It takes me a minute to recognise that it belongs to Gaz. "How are things on your end?"

I blow out a long breath. "Everything's okay."

There's a pause. A long pause. An I-know-that's-bullshit kind of one. "Talia, come on. It's me you're talking to." When I don't immediately spill my guts, he adds, "If you won't tell me what's playing on your mind, at least talk to Winslow. Marcella, even. Or, if it's something that the boys have done, try and talk to them about it. They're far more understanding than they look."

My heart stutters in my chest. That's part of the problem. And, to add to that, I don't even know what's wrong.

In the past few days, I've gone from not wanting any sort of relationship at all, to wanting nothing more than to have both of them tell me that they want me. Not even that they love me - God knows that it's far too soon for anything that serious - but something. Any sign that last night was more meaningful to them than a couple hours of mindless fun with a brand-new toy.

But I don't know how to ask. And I don't kind I'm strong enough to handle the inevitable rejection. Not when I've grown to consider them as friends.

"I would... if there was something wrong," I grumble back. My eyes flicker around the empty apartment/ Maybe having some more company around would be a good distraction. "Can you and Kyle come over again, please?"

I can hear the smile in John's voice as he replies. "We're a little busy at the moment, but I'm sure we can sort something out for the weekend. We could watch some more of those God-awful military movies Gaz likes to rip apart."

I snort out a laugh. "Perfect."

We say our goodbyes and John hangs up, muttering something about an 'incident' that he needs to deal with. But, before I can put my phone down, I catch a glimpse of a missed call and a text message from Winslow, all while I was on the call with John.

WINSLOW SLOANE: Call me xx

I'm calling her number before I can even think about it, a sense of panic gripping my chest as I raise the phone to my ear. What if she'd been in an accident? What if she was hurt? Stuck somewhere in a foreign country with no way of me getting to her...?

"Hey, honey," Winnie says immediately, answering on the third ring. Her voice soothes my frayed nerves, so much so that I almost let out a sigh of relief. Just hearing her makes me feel lighter than I have all day.

"I'm so happy to hear your voice." It's only been a matter of days since we last spoke on the phone, but it feels like it was a lifetime ago somehow. Thank God she only has two weeks of her France trip left before she's back home again. "How's Paris?"

Winnie lets out a breathy laugh. "It's been... interesting to say the least. But it's part of the reason why I called." The cold feeling of realisation slides in as she elaborates, "It looks like I might have to stay a little while longer. Just while I help them sort some stuff out and tidy up some loose ends."

My heart seizes at the vagueness of 'a little while longer'. "Okay. How long is that looking?"

"Um... maybe an extra week."

"Oh." It's the only word I can think of.

"I know, I know. I'm really sorry, Tali," Winnie says, and I can hear the genuine sadness in her voice. "I'll be back in time for Alex's birthday though, I promise."

My gaze trails across to the calendar hanging up beside the kitchen. Just under a month. In four weeks, he would have turned thirty.

We would have thrown a big party; which would have pissed Alex off to no end. He would've grumbled about it for months, complaining that he's a private person, which is just a code word for boring, but secretly loving that I'd gone to the effort. Just like his twenty-first.

My heart aching in my chest, I say, "It's okay, Win. You've got to do what you've got to do, and I have the guys here to keep me company." There's a beat of silence, so I follow it up with, "And I'm going back to work, which I've strangely missed."

We both laugh at that.

"Anyway, how've you been?" I can hear Winnie settling in on the other end of the line. I find it more amusing than I care to admit that she's still so invested in what's going on back here while she's living it up overseas. Despite it being a work trip, I've seen her Instagram posts. She's thriving over there.

"I've been good. But there is something you might be interested to know."

Winnie giggles. "Oh? Please enlighten me."

A mischievous grin forms on my lips. "I slept with them. Both of them."

There's a long stretch of silence. It's a pause so long that, for a minute, I think the call might have dropped.

"Winnie? You still there?"

She coughs, spluttering for a second. "Still here. Just stunned into silence because... wow! You really did it? With both of them? How did that even work? What was it like? I have so many questions, Tali! You can't just drop a bomb like that than and not expect me to have questions!"

A laugh slips past my lips, dissolving into a burst of laughter. "It was something new. But it was fun. They didn't take everything all serious and alpha like some guys probably would. They made it fun, we laughed about stuff, and the aftercare was perfect."

"10 out of 10 would recommend then?"

"I would," I reply, letting myself smile. Despite all of the conflicted feelings I have about what happens now, it doesn't in any way diminish how unwaveringly happy I feel thinking about last night.

We talk a bit more - mostly about all of the interesting people Winnie has met in Paris, the new places she's seen, and all the restaurants she's tried - before she has to go. We say our goodbyes and I promise to call her in the morning on my way into the office. Not long after, I hear the sound of the spare key turning in the lock, and I look up to see Johnny nudging the front door open.

He's beaming, a broad smile on his face and two overflowing shopping bags in his hands. Simon follows him into the kitchen, carrying the other three. He nods to me on his way past, a black surgical mask covering the lower half of his face.

"Want to help us with the meal plan, princess?" Si calls out from the kitchen.

Huh?

I follow them through into the kitchen to find Johnny leaning over the counter with a piece of paper and a pen, as Simon dutifully unpacks the bags. Johnny takes one glance at the questioning look on my face before offering me one of his most charming smiles. "Me and Si were talking. Did'nae think it's fair for ye to be doing all the cooking, not when ye're going back to work now. And we eat most of it."

A frown forms on my lips. "I didn't complain about it."

Si turns around now. "We know, but we don't think it's right. You do a lot for us already, darlin'. Just let us do something for you."

I try not to blush as I fold my arms across my chest. "Fine. Okay."

Johnny grins. "So, what do ye want on Monday?"

After dinner, we settle in to watch TV in the living room. I fold myself into my armchair, letting Johnny and Simon cuddle up together on the sofa.

It's hard not to keep glancing over at them; even harder to hold back the un-earned feeling of jealousy that keeps nipping at my heart. They're a couple. They're allowed to act lovey-dovey in the privacy of their own home.

Home. Thinking about that makes it even worse. At some point - when all of their army drama blows over - they're going to leave.

Logically, I know that. I know that me, them, and Winnie can't all live in this two-bedroom apartment together, but it still stings. It's irrational, and I know it.

I watch as Simon runs his fingers through Johnny's hair - the Scotsman all but asleep with his head in his partner's lap - as I swallow down the growing resentment. Bitterness coats my tongue, and I swallow thickly.

Simon looks over, because of course he does, with a questioning look of concern. Mask-free, it's all too easy to see his expression now. It almost hurts to look at his face; to know just how beautiful he was.

I shake my head and close my eyes, kicking myself for being so stupid about this.

We're all grown-ups. We agreed to have sex. It was one night.

But then why does my chest burn when I think about them, like someone's trying to squeeze the life out of me?

"You alright, love?"

I nod, my eyes still firmly shut. Why did I do this to myself? Let myself have a taste of the one thing I can't have from them?

"Hey, love," Simon calls again, voice laced with something I can't place. "Open your eyes for me, yeah?"

So, I do. I open my eyes and level him with the blankest expression I can muster. "I don't feel well. I'm going to go for a walk," I say, thankfully giving no hint of my emotions. "I'll be back before midnight."

His hazel eyes harden. "Not on your own you're fucking not."

I wince, but something in my resolve strengthens. "You can't tell me what I can and can't do."

"I'm not telling you what to do," he growls. "I'm saying it's dark out, it's cold as fuck, and I'm not having you out there alone surrounded by a bunch of creeps while I sit in here like a lemon."

We stare at each other for a long, long time.

Uncharacteristically, he breaks the silence first. "Just let me put Johnny in our room and I'll come with you." He nods to the dead-weight of a completely knocked-out Johnny's cheek resting on his muscular thighs.

My temper flares. "I didn't invite you."

I can feel Simon battling his anger from here. I also get the distinct impression that if I was anybody else - other than Johnny - I'd have already received the bollocking of my lifetime for being so damned difficult right now.

"The only way you're leaving this flat tonight, princess, is if I'm with you," he grumbles, hazel eyes dark and unwavering as he pins me with a glare. A glare that tells me Ghost is back. "I'll lock you in your room to keep you safe if I fucking have to."

I match him with a fierce glare of my own. "Why do you fucking care?"

That seems to take him aback. His eyes soften, the harsh line of his mouth pulling down at the corners, making the scars around it all the more apparent. "Of course I care."

"But why?" A hollow laugh slips past my kips and I spring up from my armchair, starting to pace in front of the TV. I'm completely aware that I must look borderline hysterical as I look at him with wild eyes. "I'm just one of the many, many women you two have fucked. Why do you care if I want to go walking at night? If I cook dinner?"

Simon's frown deepens. "That's not what this is. You know that."

"Really?" I gesture wildly to Johnny, who's still blissfully unaware of what's happening. "All night you've been cuddled up, while I've just sat here and... and watched you. Do you know how much that hurts? After last night when you made me feel so fucking included? And now you're back to making me feel like an outsider." The words spill out of their own accord, frantic and rushed as I feel the tears start to roll down my cheeks. A broken-sounding laugh bubbles up from my throat. "I've spent all day telling myself I wouldn't do this because it's so fucking embarrassing. It was one night, and now you're both going to think I'm crazy."

Si stares back at me and the expression on his face is so heartbroken that it hurts. "I... we didn't know you'd see it like that."

My heart cracks in two inside my chest. The tears pour even faster as I glare down at my slipper-covered feet.

How could I be so reckless? I've just ruined everything.

"Tali, can you come here please?"

My eyes trail back to Simon. To his hand patting the tiny space on the sofa beside him - the side not occupied by Johnny, soft snores pouring out of his mouth like cats' purrs. My feet carry me across the room. I slot myself into the gap beside Simon, trying not to let any part of my body touch his. Preparing myself for whatever it's not you, it's us speech that is inevitably coming.

a/n: hey guys! hope you've enjoyed part 8 :) sorry that it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but it was getting quite long and I try to stick around 2.5k words to make it flow better i'm aiming to have part 9 out by the end of next week, but I won't make any promises just yet <3 - much love, lapetitelapin

#cod #cod fanfic #fanfic #ghoap x reader #simon “ghost” riley x reader #soap x reader #callofduty #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x reader x soap #female reader #female oc #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny x reader x simon #simon riley x reader #double the love #romance #angst

[dotieeee]

The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Level 9

Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader

Overall Warnings:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, drugging, somnophilia, and other stuff that may be added

Masterlist

Level 9 Warnings:

Graphic violence, torture and experiments conducted on children (because it isn't Hunger Games without it lol), jealous Snow if you squint

Replay Level 8

Ready? Level 9 Start:

The tyres screech when your Uncle Cas hits the brakes. You’re still several blocks away from your apartment building and you’ve just reached a red light, although, with your uncle’s questionable driving skills, you’re not quite sure you’d both make it home intact.

“Uncle Cas? I’m pretty sure we hit someone back there and they’re still twitching.”

Thankfully, your attempt at lightening the mood isn’t in vain. Your uncle chortles behind the wheel.

“Really? I thought I did a decent job running them over.”

A pause ensues in the car before your uncle glances sideways at you. “Nellie, are you okay?”

You could only nod, bracing yourself as the red light turns green and your uncle steps on the gas pedal like a madman.

“What’s on your mind?” He presses.

“Nothing much,” you reply in a mock-nonchalant tone. “Just crossing my fingers we don’t actually hit anything.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” he deadpans. “Enough wisecracks about my driving. What’s going on? I mean, I know it’s always about that bastard you call your ‘mentor,’ but is there anything you’d like to tell your dear old uncle?”

You release a drawn-out sigh. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin, Uncle Cas.”

He nods in understanding. “Okay. You can tell me once we get home.”

You pull up to the Corso III in a matter of minutes, and you step out of the car hoping you’d never have to endure being in a ride with Acacius Innis driving. Your uncle playfully throws the keys to his dumbfounded driver, who’s waiting by the building entrance.

“I didn’t know you could drive, sir,” he says with a confused expression when he catches the keys.

“I’m just as surprised as you are, Gustav!” Your uncle says brightly, much to Gustav’s bewilderment.

Once you get inside the apartment, your uncle makes tea, which you politely decline, and sits you down on the kitchen counter. He only says one word after a single sip on his mug:

“Talk.”

“I want to quit,” is the first thing you blurt out.

“I didn’t know that was an option,” your uncle says.

You shake your head miserably. “No, it isn’t. But I can’t let them have that program. It’s yours. They shouldn’t be allowed to do whatever the fuck they want with it.”

You let out a deep exhale but a few tears of frustration come along with it.

Your uncle offers no words and just continues sipping his tea in contemplation. Maybe, just like you, he’s also run out of ideas. Maybe there really is no escape from any of this, and you’re better off just letting Snow have his way with your uncle’s work.

Perhaps your uncle punching him was the only way any of you could ever get back at him.

“Did any shipments come in when I left the office?”

You frown at his question. “Yes, a few boxes of drives arrived.”

Why is he asking this out of the blue, you wonder?

Uncle Cas hums as he takes another sip. “Huh. That’s... peculiar . Peculiar, indeed.”

“It is?” you ask, now getting mildly annoyed. You’re about to surrender his most important work to the most dangerous child-killing woman in Panem and her younger, potentially more tyrannical male version and he’s worried about packages arriving that he didn’t order? “You mean, you didn’t send for them?”

Seemingly oblivious to your dilemma, he maintains this abnormally carefree attitude. “I guess it doesn’t matter now who did. Have you done a malware scan on them?”

You sigh and decide to humour him. Who knows, maybe this is his copium. “What for? They’re blanks. And shouldn’t your staff be doing that?”

Uncle Cas lets out a derisive laugh. “Not my department anymore, plumcake.”

“But within your scope!” Growing more and more confused, you argue, even though you don’t know what for anymore.

He just snorts. “Yeah, because we have all the time in the world to check blank hard drives and not at all busy running the entire government’s military cyber defence system and keeping it safe from rebel cyberattacks. What do I know?”

He makes himself another cup of tea, and, joining you back on the kitchen counter, he asks, “What else did the drives come with?”

You shrug. “A single floppy disk?”

And once again, he just lets out another contemplative hum. You narrow your eyes at him, your confusion slowly being replaced by suspicion. He knows something you don’t.

He always does.

“Check the drives. I’d start with the floppy disk if it were me,” he says airily. “You know, your aunt Marcelline and I separated just shortly before I became your guardian. Even after I moved to the Capitol, I used to really want to get under her skin.”

Knowing your uncle by now, this is his way of trying to make a point, so you go along with him.

“True, I was mad at her at first for leaving me, but after a while, it just became banter. Nothing more than a practical joke,” he chuckles. “I started creating viruses and sending them to her. The first one I sent was in this drive I claimed to be defective, and she checked it out herself. Big mistake. It wiped half the source code all our factories ran on.”

“What?” you ask incredulously. But your uncle is laughing heartily, and imagining your aunt fuming mad at his prank makes you laugh with him. The Aunt Marcelline you know is rarely ever fazed.

“Oh, she was flying off the handle. Operations went on a standstill for half a day until they installed the backups. She then video-called me just to tell me I was a ‘fucking nutcase.’ Next thing I know, every single personal shipment I requested came with this harmless little worm that entered in my name spelt ‘Ac-ASS-cius’ for every fourteenth line of code I type,” he pauses as he wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes. “That shit went on for months, I tell you.”

Your Uncle Cas empties his mug with a single swig and asks you, “Are you getting a lesson somewhere here?”

In between bouts of light chortling, you admit, “No, not really...”

He gives you a look between exasperation and amusement. “Just check the floppy disk. I built a virtual machine environment on the station you’re using, so test it within that environment. You may never know what that contains. Who knows, maybe it’s a virus harmful enough to render most of your code completely unusable.”

Your laughter dies down at once as his point dawns on you.

Is this him giving you  permission  to kill his brainchild?  The head of Cybersecurity, hinting at infecting Citadel property?

Was Acacius Innis the one who sent you that disk?

Now, your curiosity is even more piqued.

“Why would any creator nuke their own work?” you ask carefully.

Your Uncle Cas just gives you an unconcerned look. “Maybe to them, it’s just that:  work . Just a simple set of codes they can easily write again. Sure, they were probably attached to it at first, as all creators are, but maybe down the line, they realised how their work could impact others negatively and decided it wasn’t worth the effort. It happens all the time.”

He gets up from his seat and sighs. “That’s it: enough riddle talk.”

He deposits his empty mug on the sink and leans against it with his arms crossed. He declares with mocking authority, “Check the floppy disk. This is an official mandate from the head of Cybersecurity. Noncompliance could result in the issuance of an interdepartmental memo.”

Ah yes. That little piece of paper – essentially an airing of a list of grievances from one department to another disguised pretentiously in the form of corporate claptrap. Just more red tape your mentor would gladly put on top of your growing pile of paperwork.

“Oh no, a memo, so scary,” you joke back with an eye roll.

“You bet it is. Now go to bed. This is now your uncle speaking, by the way.”

Now filled with renewed hope, you nod. Your uncle had once again carved a way out for you. If you can pull plant the virus in one of the supercomputers without drawing suspicion, you can destroy a huge chunk of the code, rendering the program useless, thereby making you appear inadequate for the job in the eyes of the Citadel, and most of all, your mentor. You can turn in your resignation and work for your uncle, just like before, while staying away forever from Coriolanus Snow.

Sounds like a plan.

You get up from your chair and hug your dear old Uncle Cas around his midriff.

“Uncle? Thank you. I’m sorry.” For destroying your work in the near future. “For everything.”

He ruffles your hair, grinning at you affectionately when you let go.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, plumcake.”

“You shouldn’t have punched him, you know,” you say as an afterthought.

“Really? It felt great. Nine out of ten will do it again. Now for the umpteenth time, plumcake, go to bed.”

You bid him goodnight and saunter to your room to shed your work clothes in favour of something more comfortable. You’re a bit miffed your stockings are now ruined owing to the gash on the right leg, so you peel them off to throw them away. Strangely enough, you also obtained this nasty purplish little bruise, even if you don’t really remember hitting something when you fell. Sighing to yourself, you resolve to be more careful around the folks at the Citadel and mostly, around him.

You take the little vial that he gave you out of your coat pocket, debating whether you’re going to try it or not.

You fell asleep without help a while ago, right?

You decide to stow it on your nightstand just in case. It turns out that after an hour or two of just tossing and turning in bed without the mercy of unconsciousness, placing it nearby was an excellent decision. You take a tiny sip directly from the bottle and let it do its work.

True to its promise, you wake up in the late morning hours of a free Thursday without ever being woken up by your uncle in the middle of a nightmare.

I guess there are things even he can’t lie about, you conclude.

Friday. The day you’re dreading has finally come to a close, and you begin it by getting to your office at ten past six in the morning when even the Peacekeepers on night shift have cups of coffee in their hands to try and power through the last hour of their shift. You make no detours and head straight to your office, remaining vigilant in case any of your team decide to come in early as well.

Under no circumstance must you ever, ever be caught with a potential malware powerful enough to destroy one of the Citadel’s best assets.

So, turning on the virtual machine environment, you insert the disk and let your uncle’s system do its magic.

You almost choke on your second cup of coffee as your computer alerts you of its findings.

In the disk are two harmless-looking folders that are designed to run in the background – one, a little virus that replicates tasks at lightning-fast speeds. Essentially harmless on its own, the most it can do is overload the chips, leading to overheating, and eventually alerting the antimalware which would shut down the system to prevent further hardware damage. But by the time of the shutdown and an unsuspecting user is drawn to trying to fix what looks like a hardware issue, the second more  devastating  virus in the disk would have already wormed its way around the cybersecurity measures and into the other computers, attacking any and all files it can latch onto. By the time the antimalware would have been alerted of its presence and taken the other computers offline, the virus would have dealt with significant corruption in the program’s source code and its backups. All it takes for a user to unknowingly activate both is a simple set of keyboard commands.

It’s an astonishing work of art in the form of malicious code crafted by none other than the genius that is Acacius Innis.

A beep at the door, followed by two others, indicates the arrival of the triplets, so you immediately eject the disk and shut down the virtual environment machine. You manage to hide the disk in your drawer just as they greet you ‘good morning’ in unison, which you return with just as much enthusiasm. They all seem to look forward to seeing what they have been labouring for come to fruition, with F1 and F3 more so, with their lighthearted chatter filling the room while a more reserved F2 prints out the list of test cases for the trial.

You follow the triplets to the testing room by eight for final preparations for the start of the official grey-box tests. Every minute that passes, your stomach sinks further in dread, thinking of the three district teens who are going to be subject to bouts of experimentation that could potentially kill them, plus the added bonus of being in possession of something only a Capitol rebel would have at hand.

The arrival of your mentor thirty minutes before the briefing just amplifies your anxiety.

Coriolanus Snow, with his dapper suit and his combed-back locks, greets you in his normal fashion like your uncle did not attempt to pummel his face right in front of his own apartment building the other night.

“How are you?” you ask him softly as you approach. You feel a bit guilty about what your Uncle Cas did – after all, he was only trying to help. “How’s your…lip?”

His smile just widens further while he observes your face. “Relax, it was nothing I couldn’t handle. You were worried about me,” he concludes.

You don’t miss the way his eyes twinkle when you nod. “I’m really sorry.”

He dips his head closer to your space and responds, “You have nothing to apologise for, my sugarplum. Your concern, however, warms my heart.”

You say nothing and merely flash him a quick smile, intending to walk off to continue your work, but his hold on your arm keeps you close.

“I could ask the same of you. The Games upset you, I can see that,” he says, as he takes your chin between his fingers to keep you from facing away. “But this is merely a test, so one is going to die. It’ll only last a day. And you’ve seen it yourself – these children are being paid for these tests. They know what they signed up for.”

You know Coriolanus’s words are meant to reassure you, but it’s hard not to feel pressure when you know your freedom from him depends on how successful you’ll be in planting the virus.

Just a few more hours of this.

The thought should be enough for you to power through the day, so you nod and say, “I’ll be fine, Coryo. Thank you.”

“Good.” Your mentor flashes you a look of approval as he releases your chin and your arm, his hand travelling down to clasp your hand. “I made reservations at The White Knight for dinner tonight at eight. Let’s hope we finish this by then because I have an important matter to discuss with you.”

Oh no. “What is it?” What could it be that it needs to wait until tonight? “W-we…we have time, now…” you trail off.

The last time you had a conversation with him about ‘important matters,’ you ended up getting blackmailed to work for him. So naturally, you aren’t too keen on giving him another chance to potentially corner you into a vulnerable position.

Coriolanus just crinkles his eyes and lets out a mix of a sigh and a chuckle, his grip on your hand shifting so he can lace your fingers between his. “As much as I find your enthusiasm endearing, sugarplum, you’re distracted at the present. I’d like to have your full attention when we broach this matter.”

You’re a few seconds shy of just pulling your hand away, but thankfully a clearing of someone’s throat behind you makes him release his hold first.

“Sorry to interrupt this little office romance, kids, but we got about fifteen minutes before the boss lady gets here,” F1 says, trying to hold back a smirk.

Laughing lightly, Coriolanus flicks his gaze to yours knowingly before sauntering over to the male computer engineers huddled over the main command console. You move away from the group for the sake of productivity to help F2 check the other consoles.

By the time the Head Gamemaker makes her entrance, you’re all awaiting her arrival in a semi-circle, and you exchange polite morning greetings before F1 and F2 take the reigns and signal the start of the grey-box tests.

“Using highly advanced technological randomisation, we shall begin with assigning you a test tribute,” F1 declares.

F2 takes out a small glass bowl containing three rolled-up pieces of paper, smirking slightly as she shakes it, much to everyone’s amusement. She hands it out, and together, you, F3 and Coriolanus unfurl the tiny roll.

Test Tribute 2

“I got Tansey,” you say.

F3 hums curiously as he gazes at his piece of paper before he puts it back in the bowl.

“Test Tribute 3. I get the feral girl,” he says simply.

Coriolanus puts his back, looking satisfied with getting Callahan. He, too, confirms his tribute and adds, lifting a corner of his mouth, “I’ve worked with worse odds than this before.”

F3 nods in agreement. “Yes, that kid’s never given us trouble.”

F1 leads the three of you outside the testing room and you follow him about two doors down into another room where the three test tributes await. The room is overwhelmingly grey and sparse of furniture, save the tables and chairs, all bolted to the floor, where the three of the teenagers are chained to by their hands and feet.

Callahan’s face instantly lights up when he sees you and even manages a small wave despite his shackles. You give him a tiny wave back.

“You’re given ten minutes to talk to them, give them instructions, and...whatever else you feel like,” says F1. Bringing out a pocket timer, he then hangs back at the corner while you each take your place at the empty seat before your test tributes. Coriolanus proceeds to the far left corner of the room where his tribute is, immediately motioning Callahan to come closer and whispering something you can’t hear over his ear. The boy blanches and mutters sorry as he stares at the table with a shaken expression. Audrey, to your far right, refuses point-blank to engage after F3’s multiple attempts to call her name as she fixates on her chains. F3 sighs in defeat, crossing his arms and leaning against his chair to observe her. You smile warmly at Tansey, which she returns shyly.

“Hello, Tansey,” you greet her.

“Hi,” she manages.

Wordlessly, you place three large pieces of strawberry-flavoured candy – the only sweets you’re able to bring with you, unfortunately – on the table and push it towards her. Her eyes widen as she looks at the candy and then at you, as if asking if it really is for her. You urge her to take it with a nod.

Tansey’s smile brightens significantly as she peels off the wrapper on one.

“Thank you,” she mumbles. “I...I don’t remember the last time I had one of these. They really smell like the strawberries we pick.”

“You’re welcome. If I knew we’d be meeting like this, I could’ve brought blackberry-flavoured ones.”

You try not to feel sorry for her because you’re aware that doesn’t help her, and the only thing that will is ensuring that she gets to live at the end of this trial. Coriolanus’s promise of keeping everyone alive is fanciful at best, knowing that the game environment itself could be lethal.

“Keep the rest for later,” you advise, placing the candy in her palms. “I don’t know what time I’ll be able to send you food. Have you been given breakfast?”

She nods, and you note how she seems a little more chipper. “They gave us two pieces of bread instead of one. Even smeared a bit of butter on them.”

You’re glad to hear they at least were given more food, but you wonder whether this is because the team thinks this might be their last.

“And some tea, too. No sugar, but it was good. My aunt likes it that way.” Then she adds, “I miss her. She gets sick sometimes.”

“Why did you enlist, Tansey?” you ask softly.

Tansey seems to hesitate before answering, “I had to.” She licks her lips, and continues, “Once I get the money, I’d buy her a better wheelchair and she can start taking care of chickens so we could sell them in the market.”

So much responsibility assumed so willingly at such a young age. Sejanus would’ve hated the thought of Tansey doing so much for so little. He would’ve helped her however he could.

Now more determined to make sure Tansey gets home safely back to her aunt and lives a better life, you begin instructing her on what she’s about to face.

Tansey listens aptly to every detail, but the further you go on, the more the fear behind her eyes grows. Guilt for what you’re about to make her face gnaws at you the entire time, seeing as you’re partly to blame for creating the system that could fatally injure her later in the day.

F1 calls out the last remaining minute.

“Tansey, please be careful down there, okay?” you say. You hold both her hands clasped with the shackles.

“Thank you. I wish everyone here was as nice as you,” she says in her usual faint tone. “If I make it, do you think I’ll be allowed to say goodbye to you at least before I go back home?”

“Ten minutes is up!”

With a sorrowful smile, you respond to her, “I don’t know. Good luck, Tansey.”

“Mentors, please follow me back to the testing room. The tributes will be escorted to the test arena during your final briefing,” F1 says as he gestures to the door where you came in.

You spare Tansey a final glance just as Coriolanus catches up to you and ushers you to the door by the shoulder. Once you're back in the testing room, you assume your mentor station which has a stapled file labelled ‘test cases’ sitting just under the keyboard. You also note Dr Gaul’s glaring absence from the room. Perhaps, she’s grown bored of waiting? It can’t be, the woman thrives on watching children suffer; she would not pass on this opportunity.

F2 clears her throat and begins the final briefing as the monitors fitted on the wall turn on, displaying the Hunger Games screensaver.

“The tributes should be escorted by now to the test arena and are awaiting the start of the Games, which will be signalled via a siren. As test mentors, you’re given the additional task of checking inconsistencies and errors not only with the gamemaker console and its software but also with the software installed on your stations. Your checklist of test cases should be on your stations, as well.”

You pore through the ten-page document with an inaudible sigh. F2 had been thorough with the test cases and made sure not to miss a single, important detail.

“Each tribute has been allocated sponsorship money to use for testing, which you can choose to send out at any time,” she continues. “Dr Gaul, who will be observing the entire test –” she waves lightly behind you where the Head Gamemaker is, inside the glass observation deck, grinning down at everyone with her arms crossed – “Will grant additional sponsorship money to any tribute whenever she pleases to test the sponsor console, which I will run. In the event of a test winner, a siren will go off, indicating the end of the Games. The Peacekeepers will unlock the basement and escort the mock tributes out for medical attention.”

F1 adds, “While they do so, we initiate the final steps of the game, and that is saving the footage and the data we gathered and uploading it on the database for the other gamemakers to analyse. Saving and uploading can take a bit of time, by the way, because of the massive amount of data the program will gather,” he pauses, adding lightheartedly, “In short, we’ll be here a while, ladies and gents.”

Turning to you, F2 asks, “Will you do the honours, Nellie?” she gestures at the main command console with a flair.

You saunter over to the console while you will your hands to stop shaking. On the keyboard, you initiate the Begin Game command, and the program wizard starts.

Here we go.

The program finishes detecting cameras and microphones installed in the arena, along with the programmed environmental elements. You simply enter Continue. It goes on detecting vitals trackers and flashes:

3 Out of 24 players detected. 

Press Enter to Continue.

Press ⬅️to cancel.

Once you hit Enter, your screen begins another progress bar as the big screen on the wall flashes the list of tributes for the very first time. The smaller screens simultaneously begin to display the different camera angles across the test arena. In no less than a fraction of a second, the current tribute odds appear according to the motion-tracking algorithm:

Audrey at 46%, Callahan at 38%, and Tansey the lowest at 16%.

You peer at the gamemaker console, which shows the three tributes’ vitals on one screen and the odds on another, and on your station, where only Tansey’s appears. Elevated heart rate and a slightly higher-than-normal blood pressure brought about the increase in cortisol levels – Tansey is understandably nervous.

You watch as they’re escorted by three peacekeepers to an open clearing in the middle of the old equipment, where three small bags are placed containing what you think are weapons. Their hands are still bound together by chains, so they all stand awkwardly a few feet away from each other as if they’re unsure what to do.

It’s a painful wait for the system to give the go signal, as it’s timed to start at the next exact hour. Once the clock strikes ten, the siren sounds in the makeshift arena, and the trial Hunger Games begins.

Everyone in the room seems to hold their breath as they all stare at the big screen, watching as the shackles that bind their hands simply fall off and land on the tiled floor beneath them with a clang. It takes a few moments for it to sink in, but Audrey gets there first – she runs straight to the centre and grabs a bag before scampering off to hide among a row of control panels located at the farthest eastern part of the basement. Tansey and Callahan share a look and they wordlessly divvy up the remaining bags between themselves before striking up a conversation.

Or in this case, it’s Callahan talking Tansey’s ear off as they explore the grounds together.

“This is a great time to check camera software,” you say as you peer through the gamemaker console F2 is navigating. You check your list of test cases for the camera while F1 and F2 shift between several cameras on the big screen.

“My stats are increasing, the algorithm is picking up movement from Test Tribute 3,” F3 observes after a while and then points at one of the smaller screens. “Check camera nineteen.” 

At his prompt, the view on camera nineteen is flashed on the big screen – it shows Audrey holding up a dagger and swishing it in the air. She may not look entirely adept at it, but her temperament alone makes her dangerous in the test arena.

F2 moves on to the rest, finally landing on the view of the last one where Callahan and Tansey are visible. Located opposite Audrey’s chosen hideout, Callahan is hunched over a decades-old computer set with a knife in hand, presumably intending to take it apart, while Tansey just looks on curiously as she sits on the floor where the contents of their bags are spread. They seem to be in the middle of a friendly exchange judging by the way their mouths are moving on occasion, but the microphones aren’t quite picking the conversation up. You take to the vacant gamemaker console and put on the headphones to hear the sound better. There seems to be a hint of audio, so you amp the volume just in time to catch what Callahan is saying.

“ – what he said to me when he first came up? He said,‘You look her in the eyes again, and I’ll gouge yours out with my bare hands.’”

Callahan sighs in resignation, adding under his breath, “Jerk.”

Is he talking about Coriolanus Snow?

Tansey scrunches her brows. “Really? He’s her boyfriend?” She asks. “But she’s nice. She gave me candy and everything.”

“Yeah, she’s nice; he ain’t. Dunno how she can stand him, honest.”

We’re not together, dammit.

A touch on your forearm nearly startles you. It’s F2, saying she found low volume on a few of the microphones as well. Overall, you and the others spend about two hours troubleshooting the audio settings and testing changes on the camera angles, finding no other minor problems.

The lunch hour rolls without event, which in this case is an immense relief for you and the test tributes. No bloodshed (yet?). You ask F1 if you could go first with testing the drone software as an excuse to send Tansey some food.

“Nah, they can wait,” he shrugs.

Apparently, catered food courtesy of The White Knight was brought in while you were busy with the tests. A tad too extravagant even for six people, the long table that was brought in was filled with pasta dishes, meatball platters and pastries, and they also supplied fresh juice and coffee for drinks. It’s almost laughable how they choose this exact moment to host this fare when you have three underfed teens locked in the basement and nothing but bread and water to feed them.

You make no move to get food, going back to your place behind the mentor console, but a cup of coffee and a croissant sandwich is placed on your peripheral. Coriolanus has taken it upon himself to ensure you partake. You whisper your thanks with a small smile and eat mechanically. Thankfully, the food seems to lighten everyone else’s mood, and F1 gives you permission to test the drones at five minutes past one.

On your console, you add a bottle of water and two slices of bread to a drone. Tansey’s odds are predicted to increase by about three per cent on the preview.

“Odds preview working just as intended,” you say as you cross it out of the checklist.

F3 peeks into your screen as he bites into a cream puff. “That’s it? Three per cent? If this was the actual Games, this kid would be done for.”

You could’ve defended her, but you decide against it – Tansey might have little chance of making it out of this alive if she’s ever reaped. You hit enter on the keyboard and let the system send the drone her package.

Everyone’s eyes are glued to the big screen as the drone flies over the rows of gigantic electronic waste, carrying a grey drawstring pouch, and hardly emitting any noise now with its recent enhancements. It reaches Tansey at a surprising speed and drops the pouch off gently on the ground about three feet shy of where she’s sitting before flying off back to its base. Tansey just looks at the bag with a flabbergasted expression and Callahan has to throw a couple of keyboard caps at her to nudge her into taking it.

“Before that other girl steals it,” he adds.

Tansey’s eyes turn to saucers at the mere mention of Audrey. She then sprints and snatches the bag so quickly before taking it with her back to her previous spot. This move of hers adds four per cent to her odds. Her face lights up at what she sees inside, takes a slice of bread out and holds it out to Callahan. The boy seems reluctant to accept the offer.

“Shouldn’t you be savin’ that for later?” He asks.

She shakes her head and replies, “There’s one more in the bag.”

Smiling warmly, Callahan scoots over to her side on the floor and accepts the piece of bread. He whispers his thanks and they eat together in companionable silence. 

You and Coriolanus point out that the vital signs chip software is working perfectly. 

The teens continue finishing the humble meal, then take little sips of the water from her bottle. Having nothing else to do, they gather their loot and decide to explore more of the basement together. They reach the area where the artificial rain drenched from the previous test, where large puddles of water still littered about. A couple of hours into their uneventful exploration, Audrey gets to her feet from her corner at the far end of the basement and begins a trek among the labyrinthine pathways littered with massive junk.

F3 hums as he stares intently into his screen, observing, “She’s on the move. I think she’s looking for food. According to her hormones, she’s hungry.”

Audrey eventually gets close to where Callhan and Tansey are, but she ducks behind a rusty file cabinet the moment she hears their voices.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice your mentor typing something on his station, on the big screen everyone sees a drone making its way to his tribute. The bag is dropped on top of a dusty table just within meters from the file cabinet where Audrey is hiding. Callahan falls behind Tansey and tells her he’ll catch up to her in a bit to retrieve the package. His hands are but a few inches from the pouch, but Audrey springs from behind the cabinet and tackles Callahan to the floor with her entire weight, pushing him out of the way and knocking the wind out of him.

F3, grimacing, lets out a tiny ‘oof.’ Coriolanus’s face is as impassive as ever, but you can sense the mirth behind his eyes watching the entire scene unfold. 

Cursing under his breath, Callahan looks around, more confused than hurt, and it takes a few seconds for him to spot Audrey running on her heels with the bag in tow.

“Hey, what in the livin’ fuck?!” He shouts after her.

Tansey had heard the commotion and had rushed back to where her friend was. She helps him get to his feet as Callahan mutters what sounds like ‘crazy-ass bitch’ to himself. He calls out to the direction where Audrey ran off to, “Whatever happened to askin’ nicely?”

In the testing room, F3 breaks the silence with a lighthearted comment. “Sorry about that. I wouldn’t mind if your tribute steals this, so we’d be even.” 

Coriolanus just smirks as he watches F3’s drone reach Audrey.

Of course, he’s enjoying this.

“You knew Audrey was hungry, yet you chose that moment to send Callahan something,” you blurt out.

Coriolanus’s smirk doesn’t fade when he turns to you, leaning back coolly against his chair. “I was merely curious.”

But to a man like him, curiosity often blends with cruelty. Still, you purse your lips and let the matter go. There is so much work to be done, and if you do it right, this could potentially be the last interaction you’d ever have with him.

At F1’s prompt, since everyone has finished sending food to the test tributes, you take turns trying out and crossing out cases on your list related to the drones, sending bottles of water to check for any abnormal drone behaviour. When every test yields satisfactory, you conclude the drone software to be fully functional.

Which is a bummer because that means you’re now moving on to testing the game environment controls.

F1 rubs his palms and whispers, “Here we go.” He types a command you’ve never seen used before, so you peek into his screen behind his back.

He just activated the Muttations Release function.

From the basement’s tall ceiling, a chasm opens wide from which a glass case descends. It’s difficult to make out what’s inside the tank given the limited lighting in the basement, but whatever species is inside is brown, palm-sized, and  writhing .

“What in the world are those?” F2 whispers, her eyes bulging at the display.

“That, my lovely little miracle workers, are my Genetic team’s brand-new itty-bitty side project.”

Everyone in the room turns their heads to the glass observation deck, where Dr Gaul just spoke through the intercom. She waves her gloved fingers at all of you, baring her teeth in a diabolical smile.

“Fire-ant muttations, modified to be two-hundred times their original size and weight – voracious, aggressive little buggers. The catch? A single bite not only causes severe burning sensations courtesy of the solenopsin venom, but also induces convulsions, delirium, and, the best out of all of them? Either intense displays of aggression or a deep state of comatose, brought about by a slow-acting compound genetically added to their venom glands.

“In short, not your typical ant bite,” she says, followed by a deep, throaty chuckle that makes your hair stand on end. “Feast your eyes.”

You’re on your feet at once, madly searching the screen for Tansey, whom you find twice as terrified as you are and clinging onto Callahan’s sleeve. Callahan, however, takes a single look at the tank with eyes bulged, grabs Tansey’s arm and makes a run for it.

Just seconds before the glass cage splits at the bottom and releases the creatures.

Your eyes are trained on the pair as droves and droves of the crawling freaks of nature chase after them. Callahan and Tansey are both thankfully light on their feet, jumping over obstacles without much issue, except this advantage doesn’t last. Mere inches away from being overtaken by the ant mutts, Callahan all but hauls his companion to the top of the nearest control panel before climbing to safety, while an ant that manages to crawl on top of another ant for leverage narrowly misses his ankles with its pincers.

Audrey had also managed to make it on top of a short cabinet physically intact not far away from where the tank had dropped from the ceiling.

“Goddammit, goddammit,” you can hear Callahan mutter under his breath. He’s rummaging through their bags frantically for something he can use to fend the accursed insects off, as they have begun to climb the control panel they’re perched onto. He finally fishes out a machete with a loud ‘ha!’ before throwing it to Tansey, and launches himself to the row of shelves on the left.

Is he leaving her?

Tansey seems to have the same question in mind.

“Wait, Callahan - !” – she impales an ant with the machete – “Come back!” she screams after her friend, but it’s too late – the boy is already several rows of cabinets and shelves away, rummaging through the junk he can reach in search of something. Eventually, he hops back on the floor, disappearing from her view entirely.

“Callahan, don’t leave me, please!” Tansey’s panicked scream echoes in your ears.

“Their vitals are going haywire...” F1 says as he checks his console.

More ants begin reaching the top of the control panel which Tansey defends with all her might, and she stomps on and slices as many of them as she can. Audrey, too, seems to manage well on her own with the knife she was rehearsing earlier despite her perch being closer to the floor. 

Tansey’s control panel, however, starts getting flanked on three sides by the climbing ant mutts, and you know it would only be a matter of seconds before she herself, gets overtaken –

“TANSEY, GET OUT OF THE FUCKIN’ WAY!”

Tansey heeds the scream of warning just in time for most of her to avoid getting licked by huge bursts of flame that attack the ant mutts and keep them at bay.

It’s Callahan, who looks like he managed to successfully build the flamethrower out of parts he scavenged from the electronic trash he was rummaging through just a short while ago.

Relief, however short-lived, washes over you as you note Tansey’s appearance – she takes in the scene before her with a mixture of fascination and relief, her curls partly singed from the flames earlier, but otherwise, safe and unbitten.

“There’s too many of ‘em – fuck!”  Callahan’s frustration becomes more evident in his yell as waves of ant mutts keep coming at them from all sides. Tansey still holds her ground from behind him with her machete, hacking at every moving, crawling thing coming at her.

The boy shifts his position as he observes the horizon. His eyes land on something to his south before a look of realisation hits him.

“Hey, Tansey, remember that area with them puddles? We gotta get there, I got a plan,” he tells her over his back. “Follow me, and whatever you do, don’t fuckin’ fall, got it?”

Tansey shouts in the affirmative. Callahan begins hurdling on top of the sea of shelves, computers and cabinets, with her tailing from behind. The ant mutts pursue them relentlessly, which puzzles you. Fire ants, after all, only attack a target which they've marked with their pheromones.

“How did they manage to get fire-ant pheromones on them?” you wonder out loud.

“My, my, aren’t you just astute, Ms Innis,” Dr Gaul’s drawling, delighted voice comes through the intercom. “Their shackles were smeared generously with them – a rather brilliant idea you can thank your mentor for.”

You flick your gaze sharply at Coriolanus, who simply beams at you. You open your mouth to react, but a scream from Tansey makes you whip your head to the big screen.

An ant mutt had managed to crawl on her back, but a hand swats it away.

It’s Audrey, falling into step beside her. Tansey mouths her thanks, which the other doesn’t acknowledge. Together, they spring towards the massive computer that Callahan had just landed on, with Audrey landing square at the centre. Tansey, however, barely makes it, her torso draped over the edge as she attempts desperately to pull herself up to higher ground with one hand while clutching the flamethrower with the other. Below her are several ant mutts, emitting clicking noises, as if calling for the rest of their colony.

To everyone’s surprise, Audrey rises to her rescue yet again: she takes the flamethrower and pulls her up to safety, only this time, Tansey doesn’t bother with niceties and just smiles at her. Audrey just blinks once, indicating she understands.

The tributes finally make it to their target area, so Callahan looks around, and as he does, his eyes land on their new companion.

“How nice of you to join us,” he says with a sarcastically formal flair. “Make yourself useful and fend ‘em off. Tansey!”

“They’re coming!”

“I know that – listen to me – I’mma need you to draw these little shits to the largest, deepest puddle,” he urgently instructs her. Turning to Audrey, he says, “Protect each other, and the both of you: when I tell you to get off the floor, get off the damn floor, understand?”

The girls nod in accord and at their leader’s prompt, they steel themselves and hop down the floor, where the mutts are but a few rows away. Callahan takes this time to hastily head to his left.

Where the main electrical source is.

F1 whoops in approval in the testing room. “And once again, the nerd saves the day.”

Everyone in the room is collectively holding their breath and ignoring their systems, now aware of Callahan’s grand plan.

He turns off the main power source, which automatically activates the secondary source. With brute force, he yanks the massive wires and drags them with him over the mountains of metallic trash. It’s obviously not an easy feat, having to lug wires heavier than his entire body weight.

From several rows away, Tansey and Audrey kill as many of the bugs as they can, the former with the flamethrower and the latter with her dagger, while they keep them in the puddle as Callahan instructed.

Callahan arrives heaving the wires and taking them apart. Then, he drops the wires to the floor where the copper ends touch the puddle, before taking off and back to the switch.

“You two: get off the floor NOW!” he hollers.

The two scramble through the hoard of mutts upon hearing Callahan’s cue. They make sure to trample some of the mutts along the way for good measure before ferrying themselves on top of the control panel, just as Callahan flips the switch to main.

For a fraction of a second, all the screens in the testing room turn black. Tiny high-pitched clicking noises are heard, which you assume are the mutts’ final cry before being fried to their death, along with sparks flying and electricity crackling, and the surges of electricity continue until you hear the switch being turned off.

The lights, however, don’t turn back on and are replaced by the tiny, flickering yellow emergency lights mounted on the basement walls. Callahan must’ve inadvertently fried the secondary electrical source as well.

“Switch to night vision view, please,” you say, to which F2 complies.

Panicking internally, your eyes scan for Tansey’s whereabouts, and you release the breath you’d been holding once you see her, crouched down and on top of the control panel, slowly rising to her feet as she looks around at the mess of an aftermath. Audrey follows suit, whipping her head around for any imminent danger.

“Is everyone alright? I didn’t zap ya’ll, did I?” shouts Callahan from right before the electrical switches. He sprints among the debris right to where they are.

“No, we’re okay,” Tansey responds. “You?”

Callahan just lets out a heavy sigh, followed by an eruption of relieved laughter from him. “Aside from wantin’ to puke at this stinkin’ pile of shit we just fried, I think I’m good.”

“Uh, guys? I think camera fifteen is conked out,” F3 notices.

F1 attempts a reboot of the camera, but the feed doesn’t return. He concludes eventually after multiple attempts, “The surge must’ve fried the chip.”

F2 logs this down on her checklist.

“Whoa, that was some great footage,” F1 whistles. “The other gamemakers are going to have a blast reviewing these files.”

The rest of the team nods in agreement.

They made it. Despite the glaring odds stacked against them, the three teens made it. Barely.

“You said nobody was going to die. That was a close call, Coriolanus.”

You had not meant to say that out loud but you do. You face him with your brows stitched together, ignoring the way he narrows his eyes at the name you used on him. You had not called him that in a long time.

“Nellie, we could not have gathered that much valuable data if we skipped that part of the test,” he replies gently. His console, however, lights up and emits the notification sound. “Sponsorship worked seamlessly, F2,” he calls out to her.

“Yep!” F2 nods enthusiastically. “Lucky Callahan.”

Pursing your lips, you head back to your station while your mentor sends more food to his tribute, perhaps as a reward for keeping everyone alive and, in consequence, extending the tests further. Instead, you quietly stew in your irritation and try to find comfort in the way the three of them finally descend to the floor and share the slices of bread among themselves. As an added treat, Tansey brings out the two remaining candies that you gave her that morning. She tries to give it to the two of them selflessly, but Callahan isn’t having it. In the end, they agree to share one between themselves and save the last for later.

Your joy at seeing them partake in a heartwarming moment is dampened by the fact that in your world, you can never imagine sharing a single piece of candy with two other people.

A few more uneventful hours pass as you and the rest of your team assess electrical damage that might’ve been dealt with by the electrical surge. You discover along the way that several cameras have a few microsecond delays in transmitting the footage, but nothing the team can’t repair or replace.

The three have already taken to foraging weaponry amidst the debris. Just in case, Callahan had said. Audrey had gone off by herself to do the same and had found electrical parts that Callahan had instructed her to find.

And then she just crumples on the floor into a screaming heap.

It’s visceral, haunting, and she sounds like she’s in extreme agony. Callahan rushes instantly to her side, but it’s Tansey who pries the source of the apparent pain: a lone ant mutt that had been left alive had latched its pincers on her left ankle.

“We got no meds for this,” Callahan says as he and Tansey carry her back to their makeshift camp where they earlier had shared the food. All they could do is wrap her in a blanket they pulled out from one of their bags. The pitiful cries continue for a while. Tansey just sobs helplessly in the background as she takes Audrey’s head and places it on her lap, stroking her blond hair in a vain attempt to soothe her.

And you don’t know what’s harder to watch: Audrey’s screaming or her convulsing on the floor.

“Hey, hey!” Callahan spots a camera nearby and waves at it. “You gotta stop the Games, or whatever, she can’t go on like this…”

His appeals, of course, are ignored by Coriolanus and F3.

Not like you could do anything either: there isn’t any anti-venom for that specific mutt programmed in the source code.

And then the convulsions stop, followed by a deathly silence, indicating the venom had finally put her into a coma she may never wake from.

“He’s right; we have to stop this.” You walk over to your mentor's station. “Coryo, please. We can save whatever data we have and continue next week when she’s better.”

Coriolanus just regards you with a strange look, like he’s contemplating what you just said. Wordlessly he rises from his seat and walks over to F1, probably to inspect the data the console has on Audrey before glancing at the big screen.

“I think you’re right, Nellie. Time is of the essence.” Your mentor says finally. He turns to face you with the stoniest smile you’ve ever seen in him yet. “Let’s test the remaining environment controls, but we need to hurry. We have a few more of them left to run.”

You could feel the blood drain from your face to your feet.  He’s willing to let Audrey die just to see the test to completion. And because his word is the only authority next to Dr Gaul’s in this playing field, F1 simply shrugs and presses a command you can’t see on the gamemaker station.

“Wait - !”

The next thing you know is that thrumming pain in your ears, followed by that unbearable ringing that makes you close your eyes. A cloud of dust is all that greets you when you open them next.

You know this day; you’ve revisited it countless times in your life. Always vivid and exactly as you remember it to be, but that fact doesn’t make it any less painful.

When the dust finally clears, that’s when you see her.

“Mommy…no…”

You always sob like a baby at this part. You can’t even bear the thought of seeing her mangled body bathing in her own blood, but here you are, walking over to that heap of a woman who’s barely minutes away from dying. Just like you always do, you cradle her in your arms, letting yourself soak in her blood as you watch the life drain from her eyes.

Daddy's hand. You're supposed to find Daddy's severed hand now.

Cold hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, and a pair of lips touch the top of your head – something that has never happened to you before in any of these visions.

You lift your eyes, and instead of seeing a cloud of dust that you know should be clearing by now, it’s the all-too-familiar pair of the emptiest, most soulless blue eyes you’ve ever seen in your life, tearing you away from a nightmarish memory and shoving you into an even more nightmarish reality.

Enter Level 10

Author notes:

Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated!!!

Sorry for the delay and forgive any typos. I shall edit when I wake up. Level 10 out tomorrow (crossing my fingers), I just had to cut what was supposedly Level 9 and divide it into two because it was getting too lengthy and the pacing might not make sense so... :P

Also, any guesses what 'important thing' that was that Snowball wanted to talk to her about?? Hmmm...

#dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #named!reader #or #x OC2ndPOV #18+ only #dark!coriolanus snow fic #dark!coriolanus #dark!coriolanus fic #dark!fic

[buggysangel17]

Three Peas In A Pod I

Summary: The start of an adventure with you and your twins. Characters: Shanks x Buggy x F!Reading (she/her). OC Twins. (Rosa & Azul) Word Count: 740 Chapter Warnings:  None

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Chapter I: Legend of the Yellow Haired Pirate

“A Hundred Million?” Your son, Azul gaped as his grasp was firm on the bounty placed on one of the newspapers you’ve burrowed from the last island you’ve all stopped by.

It was a sight to see him this animated, far from the resentment of having to stay in an island filled with just the memories and stories of your time in the sea, alongside his father. He was a spitting image of him, even going as far as having his personality, with the only thing that was different with him was the lack of the red nose like his father, which was, one of the only thing your son had inherited from you instead. A part of you wondered how Buggy would think of his own son hoping and praying to be just like him when he grows up to his full potential.

The shock of your son was the last of your problems that you needed to deal with. It wasn’t much but considering that you had decided to remain on land for the past decade and a half since you found out about your pregnancy and now, as your twins had decided that they wanted to follow in their fathers’ footstep, all you could do was oblige.

Taking down a Marine Ship on your first day back, it was chaos that earn not only you but your twins a poster with a hefty bounty on your head and a good start for the twins that were already given a thirty million to their name.

The rest of the crew aboard at the ship were more than amused by your son’s antics. Initially he had led to believe he could flashily take the lower ranking marine down with his numerous smoke bomb but it became more of a nuisance than much of an assistance for everyone involved. But A for effort as the Captain was far too distracted by the smoke to avoid your daughter’s sword attack.

It was team effort for the twins and that was what’s important to the two still too young apprentice you’ve found yourself having in the form of your children. It brought all the memories of your lovers back all over again. How memories of your shared time in Gol D. Roger’s ship was filled with chaos and glory before it all came crashing down at its disbandment and your Captain’s eventual execution.

“I started at twenty million so you two gotten better than I did when I started.” You tried your best to reassure your son before turning your attention to your daughter that wasn’t much affected by the bounty in her name, simply enjoying the fact that she already had one on the first raid.

“Maybe someday, I might even surpass Dad for my bounty.” Rosa spoke, a gleam in her eyes at the possibility.

You blinked at her statement. Unlike her brother, Rosa had been indifferent on whether she would want to stay in the island or set sail to retrieve the One Piece, all she wanted was to have you and her brother at whatever misadventure destiny would place upon you.

“I want you two to pass each and every single one of us one day.” You grinned messing with her red hair as well as her brother’s own blue ones. “I can’t stop either of you from this life, might as well make sure you both become the greatest amongst all.”

You had your own legend and your own stories, being a daughter of who was once Gol D. Roger’s greatest adversary, but had chosen to create a reputation of your own away from his name. You would wish the same fate to be given to your children, once you are certain that they can take care of themselves, you will set them free and let them explore the world as they see fit.

“When I’m grey and old, all I would ever wish is for the two of you to get the One Piece and make a name for yourselves with or without me.” You spoke, earning the cheers from the rest of the crew that had been a devout part of your life even when you had momentarily settled down, all of them ready as ever to get back with just a single word.

When the time comes, if it was you or if it was them, you will all make a name for yourselves.

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