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lvnatiq · 3 years

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Modern!au Felix Escellun x tattoo artist!gn!reader | Headcanons

a/n: Hey!!! I’m back at it again with my beautifully fucked up request fill. I’m still working on three other things, while I make you wait I took it upon myself to not starve this fandom. So here you have it. Please reblog or comment so that I have a crumb of motivation to keep up.

Should I do a smutty pt. 2 ? Who knows lmao.

Your hand slipped through the pile of designs that your colleague (and your close friend) had sent you to choose and pick apart from.

Unfortunately you were spending the night at the beautiful library of your uni, trying to balance off your school work with your actual work.

You didn’t mind spending your time under the faint scent of books and the mere sound of wood beneath you feet, but what you ‘do’ mind is the fact that the library is way colder than you thought it would be after the midnight.

Good thing that the yearning for finishing your work and leaving as soon as possible made it easier to concentrate on the task at hand.

It also made it easier for you to not notice the presence of an unexpected company.

That was until you felt the warm floral yet musky scent invade your senses as you felt the weight of cotton drape around your shoulders.

You slowly turn your head towards the owner of the coat who’s already making their way out. Desperately trying to find a way to make them stop but failing to raise your voice because of the circumstances.

The last picture of the person buried in your head was their hair caressed by the wind and their quick steps.

Fast forward to a week later, going completely out of luck with finding a place to stay you decide to ask help from your friend whom interestingly has a lot to offer.

With things going a lot smoother than you expected you stopped by the tattoo shop to finish your appointments with couple of customers before you left to meet up with your possible candidate.

“Don’t bother I’ll just call him here so you could talk comfortably.”

Your work seemed to take a lot longer than usual. So you kindly accepted your friends offer as you wrapped up the leftover stuff, finishing up the last customer.

“Hey, oh-“

The sight of your guest tickled your memories as you kept glaring at the glorious figure in front of you.

Felix, completely avoiding eye contact, placed the fallen hair strand behind his ear as he kept his eyes on the table of the tattoo equipments.

You quickly got up as you grabbed his coat from the hanger and walked back where you left him.

“Thank you for the coat, you really saved me back there.”

“Oh- no problem.”

That day you two chatted and melted the ice in between. Deciding to rent the close by apartment and start your roommate era.

Your friend smiled to themselves knowing all too well that felix was completely crazy about you.

Your encounter at the library wasn’t a coincidence either, well don’t think of him as a stalker now, he just dumped a couple of coins in the fountain wishing that you would be there that night. That’s all.

As you two moved in together you realized that there were a lot of things to be ‘caught off guard’ about him but you were most baffled by the tremendous amount of books felix owned.

“Hey Lover boy ! Would you mind recommending me some of them ?”

Felix blushes terribly and you love it so much that you constantly bother him in order to catch a glimpse of his flustered state.

Unbeknownst to you, the pile that felix left on the doorstep of your room was consisted of the books that he thought of you as he read.

Felix, abandoning his night owl habit, decided to fix his sleeping schedule for the better. Definitely not because he wanted to see you at morning before you got off to the work.

Insisting on offering you a ride on your way back home with his nice car.

Nearly every single day.

He knows that it may annoy you but he knows how much you are devoted to your responsibilities so he at least wants for you to save a bit of energy before you dive into the work.

Speaking of his nice car, it tickled your curiosity so you decided to check the price tag on the web and... well...

“Felix... you don’t so some sketchy illegal shit for a living right ?”

“It’s nearly impossible for me to work at the moment because of my studies. Why did you ask ?”

“Your car costs more than the apartment we are living in right now.”

With that, you discover that Felix’s father owns one of the most prominent chains of pharmaceutical companies and that he basically flee from his fathers mansion because he was pressuring Felix to take over his position in the future.

Being his puppet was not a thing to be tolerated in Felix’s book.

That being said, your domestic life with felix was pretty soft to say the least.

Cleaning together, cooking while talking about how your day went or getting to enjoy his expressions while he spilled his frustration against authors that didn’t affect him well.

Occasionally noticing the new cooking books appearing out of nowhere

and the delicious smell of food welcoming you after work, quite often than you expect.

Finally, more skinship.

One day whilst you two got through the gates of your apartment block you noticed the open doors of the elevator so instinctively you held Felix by the hand and ran into the mirrored box.

What you didn’t notice was the fact that you didn’t let go of his hand as you two went up.

From that day on Felix used every single opportunity to sneak his hand into yours.

Don’t blame him, it’s just that your hands are warm and the feeling of security that radiates from your fingertips is his medicine.

You absolutely avoided to tease or point it out to him because you knew that he would never do it again so you went with the flow.

You really enjoyed it though.

Snaking your arms around his waist while he is organizing the bookshelf. Feeling him shutter into your arms.

Nights became more and more enjoyable once he started to accompany you.

Everytime you caught him slacking on the sofa, you used his lap as a pillow.

Felix is extremely easy to figure out, mainly because he can’t hide anything.

Also, well

He is ticklish and you use his weakness against him, a lot.

Diving your fingers down to the sides of his tummy you started to tickle every possible sensitive spot you could catch on.

“Spit it out.”

“I-I wan’t you to- give me my first tattoo.”

Telling his words apart from his adorable giggles, needless to say you were ecstatic.

“Alright. What do I get in return ?”

“Name your price.”

You thoughtfully stared at the ceiling, humming as you blurted out your very obviously well thought out response.

“I want you to show me what keeps you up all night.”

You can’t be serious.

If you asked for an organ, he would’ve been more compliant.

You didn’t know what you got yourself into.

You basically asked for him to show you his ‘masterpieces’ that he showcases on AO3. Something that you were already well aware of.

“Deal ?”

“No !”

“Good ! Let’s see what you got.”

Felix anonymously contributed to the community by writing some of the most famous slow-burn stories on the web.

Just so you know, his author persona blew up thanks to the mind blowing, earth shattering smuts he wrote.

Yeah you heard that right

Smuts

Well he is fucking panicking now.

Nonetheless days kept on going as felix prayed each night to every single deity that you forgot your ‘deal’.

The days go on even if his worries don’t.

Did I say that Felix is a whimpering, whiny mess ? he struggles to stay in one position as the needle drags upon his skin.

“If you plan to keep on moving, I might as well strap you down felix. 5 more minutes and then we are done. Please behave.”

When you put it like that how can he refuse I mean you made things worse he is internally screaming at what you just said but he is not going to refuse a command when it’s given by you.

In exchange for giving him a tattoo you decide to let him give you one even though he’s inexperienced.

He’s terrified because he thinks that something would go wrong, his hand would slip or something and he would scratch that pretty skin of yours with a horrendous tattoo.

But you assured him nevertheless and offered him to draw something very minimal and easy. He accepted eventually.

As it turns out Felix is a natural. His hand is extremely steady and the tattoo turns out great.

Throughout the process he’s constantly asking if you’re hurt because he thinks that he’s doing something wrong but in fact he’s very delicate and gentle with the strokes and his touch.

You decide to be evil and use it against him. After you touch up your tattoo you lean in very closely and turn your cheek towards him.

“What are you doing ?” He stutters.

“I can’t possibly ask you to kiss my freshly made tattoo, so won’t you give me a kiss so that it heals faster.”

If his hands were steady before they weren’t now.

As soon as his lips left your cheek you held him by his wrist and pull him back close again so that you can lean in onto his ear.

“Don’t think that I’ve forgotten our deal. I am excited to see what you have in store for me tonight.” You winked.

Then the worst thing happened

The “tonight” came.

Felix was running in circles around the living room with one hand on his forehead wondering what could get worse after this.

Maybe you’ll be disgusted or scared hell if he knows.

He wanted to do nothing to harm your relationship in anyway because you and what you two have is all he ever wanted.

...and he believes that he has a tendency to ruin things.

But what happened was beyond his expectations.

Your eyes followed every single sentence throughout the screen, the white light traced your expressions as your eyebrows raised up and down and the corners of your lips inched closer to your ears. Your lower lip became a victim of your teeth’s assault.

He was so confused. Still waiting for you to lash out or make fun of him, at least.

“I used to think ‘what am I gonna do with you’ when it comes to you. Mostly out of frustration.”

Yet here you were with the laptop closed shut and your arms behind your head as you closed your eyes and groaned.

Slowly the smile plastered on your face grew.

”Now I know what to with you.”

#felix escellun #fictif felix #last legacy #fictif last legacy #felix escellun x reader #felix x reader #felix fictif #nyx hydra #fictif #mc

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cacoetheswriting · 3 years

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champagne problems, ch.8

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.

Chapter Eight: Wild Love: Spencer gets something off his chest while you’re stuck in a hotel room. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, very angsty, this whole series is a real slow burn babyyy

series masterlist

A/N: y’all are killing me with all the love on this story so far omg. i am so appreciative of every single comment, like, reblog, all the sweet things you say in the tags etc. etc. thank you and i hope you like this chapter (this one turned out to be more conversation than descriptions of feelings/thoughts just fyi) ! x

“Since we’re stuck here for the night, how about one more drink?” Luke asked, glancing between the team. “You buying?” Matt teased making everyone else chuckle. Luke rolled his eyes. “If that’s what it takes.”

All flights were grounded due to a heavy snowstorm. This meant that after solving their most recent case, the team were forced to remain on location. At a small bed and breakfast right in the middle of nowhere.

“I’ll have another drink.” Emily stated with a smile. “Sure, why the hell not. It’s not often I get a night away from my boys.” JJ added. Tara also raised her hand, indicating she'll have one more.

All heads turned to you and Spencer. The brunette doctor sat quietly in the corner. Clearly a lot on his mind. You were right by his side, gently resting your head against his shoulder.

A small yawn escaped your lips. “I think I’m gonna call it a night guys.” You said, slowly sitting up. “It’s been a heck of a day, and the bed is calling my name.” The group groaned, but didn't protest. Instead, they all looked to Spencer who seemed to be debating his options.

“What about you Reid?” Luke asked. “Care for another one?”

“Sure. Uh, I’ll walk Y/N to her room and I’ll be right back.” “It’s okay Spencer, stay. I’ll be fine.” You countered while getting up to your feet however, the handsome doctor wasn’t taking no for answer.

Unknown to you, unknown to everyone apart from Penelope, Spencer’s been trying to find the right moment to tell you how he really felt. He spent the last two months debating whether it was a good idea. The idea of telling you he was still in love with you scared the shit out of him because it could go one of two ways:

1. You feel the same way and call off the engagement. The two of you get back together and he spends the rest of his living breathing days making you the happiest woman on earth.

2. You don’t feel the same way and you end up resenting him for lying to you, his confession ruining your friendship.

Either way, someone will end up getting hurt.

“You really didn't have to come with me doctor.” You said stopping outside the door. Spencer shrugged his shoulders, his nose twitching simultaneously. “I wanted to. Plus sitting too long causes a number of health issues. Your leg muscles weaken. Your hip flexors shorten, and it can cause compression on the discs in your spine which can lead to premature degeneration, which results in chronic pain.”

You arched a brow. “So what you’re saying is that you’re really just looking out for yourself?”

“No, I-I, well...” He flustered and you couldn't help but chuckle. “We’ve been friends long enough for you to know when I’m just messing around.” Friends. The word stung. “Right. Sorry.” He glanced down at his shoes.

Sudden concern flooded through you. Gently, you placed a hand on the side of his face, and slowly lifted it back up. “Are you okay honey? You seem a little off, and I hope you don't mind me saying but it’s not just tonight.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek. Mind racing a million miles an hour. Of course you recognised his odd behaviour. He thought he did a good job at hiding his inner turmoil. Honestly, sometimes he forgets just how well you can read him. He forgets that you know him better than he knows himself.

“I hope you know you can talk to me.” You whispered, tenderly brushing loose strands of his hair away from his face.

The gleam in your eyes was so kindhearted. It was exactly that look that made Spencer think he truly didn't deserve you and that you were better off without him. It was also that look that made Spencer love you even more. The look that made him want to fight for you.

“Do ehm, do you think I could come in?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“Of course.” You let your hand fall back to your side. “Of course you can.”

Soon enough the two of you were sat at the edge of your bed. A noticeably tense atmosphere filled the air. Your eyes were glued to the side of his head, wondering what the hell was going on in that big brain of his, while Spencer looked down at his hands. Which at this point were trembling uncontrollably.

It didn’t take you long to notice, you could practically feel them vibrating against your leg. You reached out, giving them a little squeeze before intertwining your fingers with his.

“What’s going on Spencer? You’re starting to scare me.”

The hazel-eyed man took a deep breath before finally meeting your gaze. His features broken, as if he was about to burst into tears.

“I’ve been lying to you Y/N.” He stated quietly.

You furrowed your brows confused, taken aback by his admission. “W-what? What are you talking about? You’re the most honest man I’ve ever met.” You expressed, but he shook his head. His light curls bouncing perfectly. “I’m not. I’m really not.”

“Spencer.” “Please Y/N, please just… I… I haven’t been honest with you and it’s eating me alive. Usually you would be the person I turn to for advice on these things, but since it involves you… I-I really don’t know what to do.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s not that simple.”

You nodded your head slowly and swallowed your breath. “O-okay. Okay well, uhm… let me ask you this. If you don’t tell me, are you going to continue lying to me?” It was a weighted question which Spencer knew there was no right answer to. “Unfortunately.” He mumbled.

“Then I think, I think it is that simple.”

You were right. Every inch of him screamed you were right. Fuck. How the hell did it come to this? He had no trouble hiding his love for you these last few years. He couldn’t understand why was it so difficult all of a sudden.

Abruptly, Spencer got to his feet and ran his fingers through his hair. A deep frustrated sigh escaping his lips as he loosened his tie. Your uneasy gaze locked onto him, following his every move. And as he closed his eyes, cracking his neck, you suddenly remembered that the last time he seemed this frazzled was the day the two of you broke up. Your stomach dropped.

“Oh no.” You whispered standing up. “Ohh Spencer.”

He turned on his heel to look at you once again. Your fingers were pressed to your chin, mouth slightly parted. You couldn’t possibly have figured it out?

“You’re breaking up with me.” It seemed like a silly statement considering you weren’t a couple. “I mean, you’re ending our friendship. That’s what this is, right? You don’t want to be my friend anymore and you’ve been lying to me by pretending that you do.” There were noticeable tears in your eyes.

“What? No, no, no. It’s completely the opposite of that.”

“I don’t think I understand. The opposite of-”

“I love you.”

“Well of course, I love you too. You’re my best friend. You’re family.”

“No.” He took a step towards you and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “I’m in love with you Y/N.”

You blinked. Eyelashes fluttering as the realisation of what Spencer just declared washed over you. He saw your lips quaver and your eyes widen. The dots connecting in your mind. All the moments you spent together, the conversations you shared. Everything was running through your mind like a homemade movie, making it impossible it collect your thoughts.

“I know I said I moved on, and that’s where I lied.” Spencer continued as you stared at him, unable to move. “I never moved on Y/N. I tried, believe me I tried. But you are a part of me, a part of my soul. You are the reason I get out of bed in the morning. Seeing you, your smile. Hearing your laughter. Being able to talk to you, and just be around you. Your aura. Everything about you is so intoxicating and I messed up big time letting you go all those years ago.”

Tears began to trail down your cheeks as you bit down on your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Tiny salty droplets that Spencer slowly wiped away using his thumbs.

“I never said anything because I wanted to be there for you, first and foremost, in whatever way you needed me. I wanted to remain in your life after we broke up because your friendship means the world to me. I guess I thought-t, I hoped that maybe one day we’d get back together. And I know it’s unfair for me to lay all of this on you now, I know. And I’m sorry, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. You, I think you deserve to know.”

Quiet sobs filled the room. Your whole body was now shaking under his touch. Heart aching. It felt like you couldn't breathe.

All you ever wanted was for Spencer to love you. All you ever wanted was for him to tell you that he made a mistake all those years ago and that the two of you belong together.

“P-please say something.” His plea was barely a whisper.

All you ever wanted.

“I-I.. Spencer, I...”

You finally got all you ever wanted. The brunette doctor was standing in front of you professing his love, and yet it felt like he just stabbed you in the back. His declaration, those three cursed words you dreamt so long ago to hear come out of his lips again. It felt like the ultimate betrayal.

Don't know what to say to you now Standing right in front of you

A/N: FINALLY A LOVE CONFESSION ! honestly this chapter was a little hard for me to write... it took me a while to actually sit down to it and actually be happy with what i wrote idk BUT i hope you liked it and as always i’d love to hear your feedback! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

masterlist | series masterlist | series playlist

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no, @calm-and-doctor, @idroppedmygourd, @averyhotchner

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer rid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #champagne problems series

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robinrunsfiction · 3 years

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To The Vows You Take - Chapter 6

(This is the longest chapter in the whole story, enjoy!)

Chapter 5

"About time you got here," Ray snarked when (YN) and Frank finally boarded the bus in Washington. "Why'd you guys have to change your flight?"

“We had to go to Vegas,” (YN) replied simply as she started unpacking some of her things into her bunk. She was trying to suppress the smile that was fighting to form on her face.

“What? To get married or something?” Gerard laughed.

“Yea,” Frank replied with a shrug.

(YN) glanced over at Ray and Gerard, who were stunned into silence for a moment. They looked at each other, then back at their bandmates.

“You guys were dating?!” Gerard asked, totally astonished. "How did we not notice?! Why didn’t you say anything?!"

“I knew something was going on!” Ray exclaimed. "They've been acting different all year! I knew it!"

“Nope, we weren't dating,” (YN) answered.

Gerard’s eyes went wide. “(YN), are you, you're not pre-”

“No! Oh my god, no!” She rolled her eyes. “Me and Frank agreed in high school that if we weren’t married by 25, we’d marry each other.”

“Well shit, congratulations! We gotta celebrate, right?” Ray asked, getting excited.

“Hell yea!” Frank chimed in. “You guys buy the champagne!”

“Do you wanna announce it at the show tonight?” Gerard asked.

“No!” (YN) was quick to reply. “It’s just that we haven’t told our families yet. We don't wanna have them find out through the press.”

Gerard nodded. "Ok, but wow, I still can’t believe you guys eloped!"

"Believe it, baby," Frank said, patting Gerard on the cheek as he walked by.

“Ok, ready to call your mom?” Frank asked.

“No,” (YN) deadpanned.

“Better now than waiting any later,” he replied. It had been about a week since they had tied the knot and (YN) had been putting off calling her mom as long as possible. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of what they’d done, she just knew how her mom would react.

Frank pushed the call button on the phone in front of them and (YN) hoped it would just go to voicemail.

“Hello?” (YN)’s mom’s voice came through the speaker of the phone.

“Hey mom,” (YN) started wearily.

“Hi sweetie, what’s going on? I’m at the grocery store.”

(YN) winced and Frank had to stifle a giggle. “Umm, by any chance do you remember back when I was home for Christmas and that letter came that I wrote to myself?”

“Yes, vaguely.”

“Do you remember the one thing I said I hadn’t done?”

“No, off the top of my head I can’t say that I do.”

“Umm, well I’ve got you on speaker phone because Frank is here too and I called to tell you we went through with our pact to get married.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you, it’s loud in here, you did what?”

“Me and Frank got married in Vegas,” (YN) practically shouted. Frank was hiding his face to control his laughter and (YN) reached over and smacked his arm.

“What?!” In the background it sounded like glass breaking. “And you didn’t even call to tell me?!”

“I mean, I told you when I read the letter,” (YN) rubbed her eyes.

“Not that you were gonna go through with marrying Frankie! Oh, is Frankie there now?”

“Yea, hi Ms. (YLN),” he replied.

“Hi sweetie! Congratulations and welcome to the family!”

(YN) looked at Frank, jaw dropped, as he practically gloated. “Thank you Ms. (YLN).”

“(YN) I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me until after the fact!”

“We didn’t tell anyone, not even the other guys!” (YN) argued. "It's not eloping if everyone knows!"

“Well, have you told Frankie’s parents yet?”

“No, you’re our first call” (YN) replied, rolling her eyes.

“Ok good. Oh, goodness I didn’t even notice I dropped the jar of pickles, I’ve got to go, I want more details later, buh-bye.”

“Bye,” (YN) said, hanging up. "Yea it's a good thing we didn't tell her we called your mom first, she woulda lost it. Are you gonna call your dad?"

"Yea," he replied, already pulling up the contact info on his phone.

"K, I'm gonna go grab some coffee," she said, getting up.

"How'd your mom react?" Gerard asked, looking up when (YN) walked in.

"She dropped a jar of pickles in the middle of the grocery store," (YN) sighed as she poured a mug of coffee.

Gerard chuckled. "Are you done?"

"No, Frank's calling his dad right now."

"That will go well," Gerard nodded reassuringly.

"Yea, I think you’re right," she nodded as she made her way to the back of the bus where they'd been making the calls in privacy.

"So you finally told her-"

"Dad, hang on," Frank interrupted and (YN) gave Frank a confused look as she walked in. "Umm, no, but don't worry about it. Actually (YN) just walked in."

"Hi, Mr Iero," she greeted him brightly.

"I'm glad you're sticking together. Ever since you were kids, you two have been a team. That's what you want in life, someone who is on your team. Friendship should come first, all that romance bullshit can come later on."

(YN) and Frank laughed, but when she glanced over at him, she saw he was looking at her. She smiled and looked away, realizing how much she was suddenly blushing. That was the problem. She could no longer deny the fact that she wanted the romantic bullshit with Frank. Her stomach did flips when he would look at her from across the room, his smile made her weak in the knees. She’d fallen for him completely, and she didn’t know what to do.

Frank had just taken a drag off his cigarette when a black SUV pulled up in the parking lot where their tour bus was parked. At long last, Mikey was back. He hopped up off the curb he was sitting on and warmly welcomed his friend with a hug. "Welcome back, man!"

"Hey! And congrats! I take a couple months off and half the band gets married?" Mikey laughed as he stored one of his bags in the compartment under the bus.

"That’s what happens when you’re not here to supervise us,” Frank laughed. “Did you know me and (YN) had originally planned to elope the day you and Alicia got married?"

"Seriously?" Mikey seemed genuinely shocked as they returned to the spot on the curb where Frank had been sitting. It was the only shade in sight.

"Yep."

“Where is she, by the way?”

“On the phone with our realtor, we’re gonna see some houses when we’re back in Jersey before we head over to Europe.”

“Damn, you are serious about this.”

“As serious as a goddamn heart attack.”

“Wait, so how did all this happen again?”

“We made this pact in high school, we’d get married if we were still single at 25. And the chance to spend my life with (YN)? I’m not gonna pass that up.”

“You have feelings for her?”

“I’m surprised I’ve hid them this well for so long.”

“Shit,” Mikey muttered, taking the almost spent cigarette out of Frank’s hands and taking a drag himself. “So it’s happily ever after.”

“Not until I work up the nerve to tell her.”

Mikey coughed, Frank’s words taking him by surprise. “Wait, you haven’t told her?!”

Frank let his head hang. “Oh so you've been married like three months longer than me, and now you know it all? Just keep it between us ok?”

“Yea, yea I can, but you should tell her. She’s your wife.”

Frank couldn’t help the smile that formed across his face upon hearing those words. “Yea. I just gotta figure out the right time.”

(YN) had just finished applying her stage makeup when the door to the green room opened. She was surprised that it was only Mikey coming in, and no one else was with him.

“Hey,” she said, glancing over at him. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Got pulled into an interview,” he answered, coming to stand behind her, checking his hair in the mirror.

“Ah yes, the joys of not being a guitarist or singer,” she smirked.

“I know right?” He laughed before flopping down on the couch. “So congrats.”

“Thanks,” she laughed lightly, shaking her head. “It’s crazy, right?”

“Why?”

"Because I saw 'My Best Friend's Wedding' at an impressionable age, and now I’m married to my bandmate.”

"What's wrong with that?"

(YN) sighed and shook her head. “Promise not to tell?”

Mikey sat up and nodded. “Of course.”

"It’s a problem because I realized that I've fallen in love with Frank and can't tell him because it'll ruin our marriage,” she explained and Mikey let out a laugh. “It’s absurd right?”

"You gotta tell him, (YN)."

(YN) just groaned in response. “But what if it fucks everything up?”

Mikey sighed. "You should be honest with the people you love," he replied. "Especially when it's about how you feel."

(YN) nodded silently.

“So... have you guys hooked up.”

“Mikey!"

"I’m just trying to lighten the mood!” He said defensively. “And I take your reaction as a yes."

(YN) smirked. "Fine, you wanna know? There was one time we did a long time ago."

“Wait, when?!”

“You probably don’t remember, but a long long time ago, I’m talking back in the van days, we were actually staying in a hotel for once. You, Gee, Ray, and Brian all went out, but me and Frank stayed back.”

“Oh yea! We were wondering if something happened that night,” Mikey laughed.

“Yep,” she said, getting up from her chair and starting to make her way toward the door. “And it was in the bed you and Ray shared that night! Bye!”

“Ew! What the fuck (YN)?!” Mikey shouted, as she ran out of the room, laughing evilly.

#frank iero x reader #frank iero fan fic #frank iero fan fiction #frank iero imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction #i'm bored so yall are getting this early

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patchesthegothictramp · 3 years

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Feather Seeker and the Okinawa Jail

So anyone who’s been talking to me knows Feather Seeker is a game that’s perked my interest from the get-go, and I’ve been thinking of talking about it for a while. Now that I’ve been able to replay Royal and play Strikers, some other things have come out in the meantime and I’ve been paying more attention to additional media, I want to make a meta post about Feather Seeker, the Okinawa jail from Strikers and it’s connection to Akechi specifically. Be warned, this ended up being a very long post.

Let’s start with just getting a few questions out of the way:

Isn’t it just a mini game made to raise your stats?

Yes, absolutely, it’s optional and honestly if you don’t care for playing the video games it’s easy to miss. I don’t think it was honestly intended to be some massive breakthrough on a character’s backstory but rather an Easter egg that gets you to think about it.

It’s just about Neo-Featherman, there’s references to it in all persona games, so why is this one different?

It’s not different. There’s been plenty of times when Easter eggs have led to something bigger in this game, even specifically featherman ones. There’s an episode of Featherman that describes exactly what happens in the 3rd semester, where a character loves another so strongly it brings them back to life. Now whether you want to apply that to Futaba and her mum, Ren and Akechi or whoever it still fits- there’s an entire semester where at least one character loves another one and wishes them back to life through Maruki’s power. So having another piece of media, like the Feather Seeker game, be another allusion to something else isn’t entirely unjustified.

Feather Seeker is just detailed cos it’s about Featherman, why are you comparing it to other games?

See, here’s the thing and why I needed a second playthrough to make sure I was right about it. Feather Seeker is the odd one out. All of the games have some kind of plot or something going on (except for Golf sim but y’know... it’s a golf sim), but they’re all very, very basic things. Train of Life is just board game with very simple characters, the Goemon game has you just walking through hell but doesn’t really go more in depth with characterisation. Whereas you find out so much about what’s going on with Gray Pigeon and Osagiri in Feather Seeker that it feels a little… weird to simply ignore it. Do I think that the simplest answer, that they just wanted some plot in there for fun, is the right answer? Honestly I think that’s highly likely. But it’s the boring explanation too, it’s easy enough to just write any kind of intrigue like that, so whether what I’m writing about was intentional or not, I still want to discuss Feather Seeker and see people’s own thoughts on the possibility that it could be more than just a basic game.

So with that out of the way… let’s get into it.

First, there’s establishing who’s who. I can pretty confidently say that Gray Pigeon is Akechi in this entire metaphor. This one is the most obvious for multiple reasons, first of which being that it’s the exact same costume Akechi gets in the featherman outfits DLC so there’s the direct correlation there. Beyond that, Gray Pigeon is a character who awakens to a new power and wants to become a hero of justice, just like the feathermen, the hero’s he’s heard about before. Ring any bells?

Also the final revelation of Feather Seeker is that actually the Feathermen see Gray Pigeon as their enemy, who ends up sacrificing himself so they can keep fighting.

Which brings me to discussing who Osagiri and the Feathermen are. Given the timeline presented, I don’t think it’s possible for them to be one specific character or even group of characters. I think these aren’t supposed to be characters, but rather the major influences in Akechi’s life. Osagiri is a scientist (possibly Wakaba, I’ll get into that later), but also the one who pushes him to do bad things. Osagiri starts by training Gray Pigeon to become one of the Feathermen, the good guys, but eventually ends up manipulating Gray Pigeon into trying to kill them. Osaigir at the bare minimum has to be two people- the cognitive scientists who were able to uncover more thanks to Akechi’s escapades in the metaverse and the people who pushed him to commit crimes- the conspiracy.

The Feathermen, at the end of the game, have to be the Phantom Thieves- they’re the ones Gray Pigeon/Akechi ends up sacrificing himself to save but… that can’t be possible. Gray Pigeon’s journey starts with him gaining a new power and wanting to use it for good like the Feathermen do and of course the Phantom Thieves weren’t an inspiration for Akechi to do what he did. I think then the Feathermen are what Akechi aspired to be- the heroes of justice who fought the bad guys.

I can’t lead myself to believe that at 15, Akechi thought of this overly convoluted plan where he would help Shido to become prime minister only to then ruin him, there’s way too many factors in this that could change. I think originally Akechi wanted to avenge what happened to him and his mother, make sure that the man who wronged him would face justice. That’s what the Feathermen would do, right? They fight bad guys. Translating it from Feather Seeker, Akechi was angry, furious even and that rebellion woke hm up to Robin Hood, the embodiment of justice for him.

There’s plenty things that point to Robin Hood being first, his placement when Akechi awakens to Hereward on 2/2 being in the same spot as everyone else’s, the fact that for all of the other Thieves their third tier personas are different versions of their initials personas and that applies to Hereward/Robin Hood and that the trend of initial/second awakening personas is that the first is a fictional who was considered a criminal (Robin Hood) and the second is described in game as a ‘mythological trickster’ (Loki).

Here is where I want to get to the Okinawa jail and why I didn’t post this theory/metapost sooner.

I mentioned earlier that Osagiri could have been in some part Wakaba, Futaba’s mother, and when I initially wrote this I didn’t have all that much to go off of. There’s concept art in the original p5 artbook of Wakaba experimenting on someone. There’s no context given and it’s sort of the odd-one-out. Of course, human subjects would have been necessary to study the cognitive world but this research is so under wraps it seems it’s almost impossible to get. There’s no military connotations anywhere so why is it such a secret? Well, illegal human experimentation would certainly be a good reason to keep this away from the public. They must have figured out somehow that killing a shadow can cause a lot of damage, even death, to a person, we know that from the research notes, but Wakaba was a scientist, working in a lab, she must’ve done experiments that weren’t entirely legal.

Here I wasn’t sure because accusing Wakaba or anyone of illegal human experimentation was a pretty big reach but the Okinawa jail in Strikers shows us that illegal human experimentation is something that was used for cognitive research. I don’t think that Akechi was experimented on there or that was where Wakaba worked, there’s no indication of it but… Konoe and Owada seemed to build on the work that Shido and his scientists began. That being said, I think the Okinawa lab is a continuation of that human experimentation, with whatever lab Wakaba worked in being its predecessor before Shido probably shut it down to prevent it from ever being discovered. Which is also why he had Wakaba killed- the research was only meant for him and no one else.

Beyond what we see in Feather Seeker of Osagiri/sometimes Wakaba experimenting on Gray Pigeon/Akechi, we’re also told (albeit this is of course biased information), that he only targeted people he deemed deserved it but… Wakaba is the odd one out here for the most part. Okumura was hardly a good person and the principal decided covered for a sexual abuser, most of the others were survivors except for accidents which are mostly uncontrollable and unpredictable. Wakaba however, like Kobayakawa and Okumura, were targets that were supposed to die, Akechi intended to kill them. How then was Wakaba a bad person? Illegal human experimentation would explain that, especially if it was done on Akechi himself.

So then, Akechi was experimented on by Wakaba. I don’t think he was fully informed about what he was doing either. Gray Pigeon certainly wasn’t. Akechi was still trying to be a good person, using his power for his own vengeance yeah but I don’t think murdering random people was part of his initial plan at all. I think that Feather Seeker also emphasises just how little he knew about what his actions were doing. How would he know what his effects of shadows are on the real world? He could only know that from the scientists, from Shido. Of course he did find out, eventually, and that rage he must have felt about being used and lied to gave him the power to awaken to Loki, as Futaba puts it, the representation of his anger. It’s only then that he forms his plan, to get back at Shido for all of this, not just him abandoning him and his mother but for using him for his own means as well.

And we know how the rest of the story goes.

The overall story presented in Feather Seeker, as I see it, is this: Akechi awakens to Robin Hood, and realises that his anger is no longer a hopeless endeavour, he can use it, show that he’s useful and get acknowledged by his father. Shido sees this, sees that he can use this power and subjects him to experimentation, as someone who can actually survive the cognitive world and even have an impact on it. Wakaba sees what he can do, tests him but he’s never told what he’s done. He’s manipulated through praise and lack of information. One day he does find out, he realises this wasn’t getting him any closer to vengeance or getting acknowledged by Shido, he’s just another test subject being used by them. He’s angry, he awakens to Loki and now with the unique power of psychotic breakdowns, Shido recognises him and hires him as his assassin.

Granted this is all just my own theory, I think there is a lot pointing us to at least something similar but of course I also think this is wishful thinking as well. At this moment, my biggest wish is that Atlus makes a game that actually delves into what happened to Akechi. All the explicit information we have is given to us from biased sources, ie. Akechi himself, and it’s really the only question I have left for persona 5’s continuity.

#p5r spoilers #p5s spoilers #p5r #p5s #akechi goro #goro akechi #metapost #theory #p5a #proof of justice #persona 5 #persona 5 strikers #persona 5 royal

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kaylorrehabcenter · 3 years

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Rating Every Song on Fearless Based on How Gay it is

Hello friends! I still have a few song analyses in the pipeline (and one on Lover the album) but today in honor of Fearless (Taylor’s Edition) being announced and Love Story being released in a few hours I thought I’d do something fun to celebrate!

And you know what? Fuck my usual disclaimer, I am the word of god here. Try and change my mind about any of these. I dare you. (I kid I kid this isn’t that serious and you’re free to disagree <3)

1. Fearless 15/10

Everything about this song is so fucking gay oh my god. This isn’t a fruit, this is a whole ass edible arrangement. As a small rural town Gay (my hometown has a population of less that 4,000 and where I’m living now has a population of 2,500) this uh. Hits.

“And I don't know how it gets better than this/You take my hand and drag me head first, fearless”

Y’ALL

The idea of falling in love with someone who makes you less afraid of your homophobic small town…….it’s getting to me.

“My hands shake, I'm not usually this way but/You pull me in and I'm a little more brave/It's the first kiss, it's flawless, really something/It's fearless”

This is making me emotional, I'll be honest. I see so much of my friends and my experience in high school in this song.

This quote I found on genius is from when the album was released on BMR’s website.

“When I wrote ‘Fearless,’ I wasn’t dating anyone. I wasn’t even in the beginning stages of dating anybody. I really was all by myself out on tour and I got this idea for a song about the best first date. I think sometimes when you’re writing love songs, you don’t write them about what you’re going through at the moment, you write about what you wish you had. So, this song is about the best first date I haven’t had yet.”

This just screams baby Tay writing gay folklore to me, about the gay stories she wish she had. Notice how there are no pronouns in this song??? Fruity I’m telling you.

All that to say. I’m crying because the linear note says “I loved you before I met you” and I want to go listen to Long Story Short and cry now.

2. Fifteen 1/10

Objectively pretty straight as she’s singing about her and Abigail’s dating boys in HS. And Taylor got with a senior guy. Good for her I suppose.

Unless he was one of the shitty ones in which case.

“This is life before you know who you're gonna be”

This however, is a cute line and the whole song makes me warm and nostalgic. You can also hear her crying after the line “and Abigail gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind” which makes me emo and I’m sure will take on new depth after Abigail’s divorce and hurt me even more.

Other highlights that make me sob include.

“When all you wanted was to be wanted/Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now/Back then I swore I was gonna marry him someday/But I realized some bigger dreams of mine”

Bigger dreams of hers indeed :’)

(Also how can you say she’s a gold star lesbian when this song exists. She was obviously dating boys in high school and even if you think she’s a lesbian. Comp het is a hell of a drug kids.)

3. Love Story 8/10

Tried to change the ending indeed.

This is THE Taylor Swift song, and maybe it’s the nostalgia talking but damn I still love it. Written because she wanted to change the ending of Romeo and Juliet (how anyone likes RandJ enough to want to rewrite I have no clue.) and/or because her parents didn’t approve of a guy she was seeing. (according to genius, it would’ve been too early for Joe J so it could possibly be Boys Like Girls frontman, his image did clash with hers and they did release some cute songs together. However if you want my take it’s probably folklore about Emily, take for what you will)

This song has very oft gay vibes with the ‘They don’t approve of our love angle!’ but uses male pronouns so points redacted for that. HOWEVER this is a very early use of ~the male perspective~ in Taylor’s songs and for that it deserves all the love.

“ So I sneak out to the garden to see you/We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew/So close your eyes/Escape this town for a little while”

More rural town angst!!!

Nothing gets me more than rural town angst.

“Romeo, save me, they're trying to tell me how to feel/This love is difficult, but it's real”

Originally the lyric was “this love is different”. Granted I do not remember the source, i’s just lore implanted into my brain, but make of that what you will.

“"Marry me, Juliet, you'll never have to be alone/I love you, and that's all I really know/I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress/It's a love story, baby, just say "Yes"”

Marry me Juliet from the male perspective :)

Also worth noting. This is Karlie’s (and Kim K’s lmao) favorite Taylor song which. While basic as hell. Makes this cover sad as hell to this former Kaylor. (thanks @swiftgron-get-married for the tears <3)

Also not to make this about a man AGAIN but the secret message is “Some day I’ll find this” AND SHE DID IM CRYING.

4. Hey Stephen 1/10

The one thing Camilla Cabello and I have in common is loving this song, so I have to live with that for the rest of my life.

This song is very painfully straight.

How can you think this woman is a gold star lesbian.

The only noteworthy thing is that this is one of the few songs she confirms who it’s about. The secret message is “Love and Theft” which is the name of a country music duo who went on to open her Fearless tour. Which, does make me side eye this song a little bit.

Still a cute song.

“Hey Stephen, boy, you might have me believing/I don't always have to be alone”

5. White Horse 1/10

Oh look. It’s track five.

You know maybe this is just me being a bitch but in my ranking of track fives this is. Pretty low. Maybe on the bottom.

Like I don’t have a lot to say about it.

She’s going through it over a guy. He was a cheating dickweazel.

“'Cause I'm not your princess, this ain't a fairytale/I'm gonna find someone someday/Who might actually treat me well”

“Try and catch me now, oh/It's too late/To catch me now”

These lines hit though!!

And she found Joe!! Who treats her well!!!! And she isn’t the princess, she’s the prince who dropped her sword and knocked on her door!!! But this time if they come for them she’s ready!!!

Yes I will make every song about Long Story Short <3

6. You Belong With Me 5/10

Ah yes. The other THE Taylor Swift song.

You know. If I went to a high school with a cheerleading squad. And I had a crush on a cheerleader. I would blast this song. So for that it gets a 5/10. Otherwise. Fairly straight and fairly iconic.

7. Breathe 8/10

Well. We know this one is about a woman. (Emily Poe for those not in the know. Ha. A rhyme!) That alone has an 8/10. And it’s the first time she has a featured artist so bonus points for that!

It was nominated for a Grammy and it fucking lost to Jason Mraz. When’s the last time you thought about Jason Mraz.

I will not have Kaylor feels on a fucking Fearless song but damn is it VERY easy.

“Never a clean break, no one here to save me/You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand”

“It's 2 A.M, feeling like I just lost a friend/Hope you know it's not easy, easy for me”

Also this bridge? Goes off. HIGHLY underrated.

8. Tell Me Why 3/10

You know. Maybe this album isn’t as gay as I once thought.

This song does bop though, not as good as her other angry songs on this album. But I can vibe with this you know. Why are you being an asshole mysterious man.

“You could write a book on how to ruin someone's perfect day”

This has to be one of baby Tay’s best burns. Damn.

“Why do you have to make me feel small/So you can feel whole inside?/Why do you have to put down my dreams/So you're the only thing on my mind?”

Men ain’t shit kids. However, bonus points for the shade.

9. You’re not Sorry 1/10

Ok, ok. Maybe this was a foolish endeavor.

Because yet again we have a very straight song. A good song. That was on Taylor’s episode of CSI. But oh dear. Very straight. Gets a measly one point. We started this post off so very very gay but damn. We seem to be nearing the end on a very straight note.

10. The Way I Loved You 20/10

Hey Remember what I said about this album being very straight.

WELL THAT WAS A LIE.

Is this a comphet album or am I projecting.

This is one of my favorite baby gay Taylor songs. Her masterful use of pronouns (he is sensible! And so incredible! And all my single friends are jealous! But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, when it was two am and I was cursing your name!) makes the other person she’s singing about completely vague, while we know she isn’t happy with whichever guy she’s dating.

Mayhaps an early reaction to PRomances?

Either way this song is so good, truly an underrated gay gem I mean. Look at it.

“Breaking down and coming undone/It's a roller coaster kind of rush/And I never knew I could feel that much/And that's the way I loved you”

AND THE BRIDGE. Do all of her gay songs just have kickass bridges?

“He can't see the smile I'm faking/And my heart's not breaking/'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all/And you were wild and crazy/Just so frustrating/Intoxicating, complicated/Got away by some mistake and now…”

Damn. I’m imaging this with 2020 vocals and fucking ascending.

Also please watch the live performance of it from the Fearless tour. It’s such a damn shame this got cut from the movie and some woman in the front row is wearing a cowboy hat. Everyone is holding up those cameras everyone had to have before smartphones. Taylor is being endearing. It’s a good time.

11. Forever and Always 6/10

Bonus points for the ~drama~ of it all. Added last minute to the album? The iconic throwing of the chair in live performances?? All of it very dramatique and for that we stan.

Still pretty straight.

Also Joe Jonas responded to the song and why do I find his response so damn funny. “It’s part of being a musician, I guess. You write songs about each other.”

This is another song where the idea of Taylor’s grown up vocals on this is………..whew

12. The Best Day 0/10

This gets zero points because it’s about her literal mom.

Still makes me cry.

God bless Andrea Swift indeed

13. Change 13/10

We start the official tracklist with a gay song. We end it with a gay song.

We will ignore that it was originally written for Scott and BMR and instead induct it into the hall of gay pride anthems, as it should be.

“We're getting stronger now, finding things they never found/They might be bigger but we're faster and never scared/You can walk away, say we don't need this/But there's something in your eyes says we can beat this”

“This revolution, the time will come/For us to finally win/And we'll sing hallelujah, we'll sing hallelujah”

The music video is cringe though lol

14. Jump then Fall 10/10

This song is gay because I choose it to be. <3

Like. Picture baby Taylor writing this song and playing it on her guitar to a girl she has a crush on telling her that she’ll protect her and they’ll be safe and in love and happy together. Gah, maybe I’m ~projecting~ but this sweet ass song always gets me and is EASILY in my top five Taylor songs. Super underrated and hecking cute.

“We're on the phone and without a warning/I realize your laugh is the best sound/I have ever heard”

Like. Look at this shit.

“I watch you talk, you didn't notice/I hear the words but all I can think is/We should be together”

Tell me this is about the first time you get a crush on a girl and she’s your best friend and she’s amazing and beautiful and you realize you kinda want to kiss her and you hope she wants to kiss you too.

“I had time to think it oh, over/And all I can say is come closer/Take a deep breath and jump then fall into me”

And she’s the Romeo who's going to protect her!!!!! She’s the knight in shining armor in this song and I love that for her??

“The bottom's gonna drop out from under our feet/I'll catch you, I'll catch you/When people say things that bring you to your knees/I'll catch you/The time is gonna come when you're so mad you could cry/But I'll hold you through the night until you smile”

I won’t divulge into full on analysis here because. This is what this post is about but PLEASE listen to this song more. It’s such a gay little gem.

15. Untouchable 9/10

How does she make a cover sound gay.

It sounds so gay.

“You got to come on, come on, say that we'll be together/Come on, come on, little taste of heaven”

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay

16. Forever and Always Piano Version 1/10

This song gets 1/10 because I don’t like it. There. I said it.

17. Come in With the Rain 3/10

I can see why this is a bonus track. It doesn’t hit me as much as the other songs on the album.

But damn if I don’t want to scream sing this one driving down a high way.

18. Superstar 7/10

You can’t tell me this song is about a man. I simply won’t entertain the idea.

You cannot prove to me that this song is about a man. There is not a male pronoun in sight.

>:)

19. The Other Side of the Door 6/10

Is this song about having a fight about being in the closet? Probably not. Will my gay little brain make it about that? Yep!

And that, funky little queer pals, is my gay rating of every Fearless song. Like and subscribe, #t3atmidnight

#long post //#fearless the album #gaylor #what do i tag this for it to show up for peope??#gay rating

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leahseclipse · 3 years

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Live for me (Spencer Reid x Reader) 💔

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: While working on a case, Spencer and y/n get kidnapped by the unsub. For everything to end: one has to die.

Warnings: ⚠️ THIS STORY DOES NOT HAVE A GOOD ENDING AT ALL, DON'T READ IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE THIS KIND OF TOPIC; DON'T FORGET TO GET SUPPORT AFTER READING ⚠️; death of major characters, loss of a person, grief, medication use, overdose, suicide, cursing, angst, depression, sad stuff……...

A/N: I cried as much as you are right now. I wrote a bit of it around 1am. Had to watch the unauthorized documentary of Matthew to cheer me up, and you should totally do it. Either that, or criminal minds bloopers, fun cm videos like "bau being kids", etc

Word count: 2.1k

"Hey. You're finally awake."

As you woke up, you only felt cold. You could tell by the ambiance that you weren't inside a room, but outside.

You could hear the faint sounds of cars, guessing that you could be at a high level.

"Come on, we have a game to start. You don't want to make us wait, do you?"

Us?

You looked around, realizing what he meant by 'us'.

It was him...and Spencer.

His eyes were wide open, locked in yours.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Because it's fun. Don't you like to have fun? Everyone does! That's why I gathered two lovebirds here. It'll double the fun! I'm smart, I know."

"You're nothing but an asshole. You're stupid as hell!" You yelled.

"No. I'm not."

"Your face tells me the fucking contrary!"

"Shut up. SHUT UP. YOU'RE MAKING ME WASTE TIME."

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE." You barely had time to place another word that he had punched you in the face, blood dripping out of your nose.

"Stop! Don't touch her!" Spencer yelled.

"She deserved it. She was being an annoying bitch. And I hate people like her."

"I...I'm not done." You muttered.

"Huh? What did you say?"

"I said I'm not done!"

"Done with what ? Me? Oh yeah, you're not. But soon, you'll be."

"Not until you're dead." You said.

"Unfortunately, I won't be the one who will die tonight. It'll be...one of you. One will live, one will die. Only one winner will come out of here alive, not two."

"We'll see that."

"No we won't. Not if you're dead."

"Dare touching her." Spencer said.

"Aw, your husband is so loyal. I'm gonna cry."

"You're gonna cry even more when you'll get to spend the rest of your life in prison; if someone doesn't kill you before."

"I am unstoppable honey. I'm as fast as the speed of the light. Here's the proof, I have been killing for ten years, no one found me. The only thing police had done was to send people that knew of the murders, had witnessed them, but didn't commit it. They all were sort of proud, not knowing that the real killer was still on the loose."

"The team will come. You're trapped. This is where everything ends for you."

"Nuh-uh. For you, not for me. I'm a free man, you're a soon to be dead girl, and you, a soon to be dead man."

"What a fool you're making out of yourself. You're a fucking coward, you're stupid as hell, worthless, you're so full of shit! Just shut the hell—" You spat out, as he raised his gun to your head.

"Now what, huh?"

"Now what? You want me to repeat myself?"

"Dare to do it."

"You're weak."

"Don't get me started."

"Just fucking surrender at this point, your pathetic life is ruined, you have nothing—" You couldn't even finish your sentence. You never got to.

He had shot you in front of the terrified eyes of Spencer.

You were now laying on the floor, a pool of blood growing bigger next to your head. A stray tear had fallen from your eye, the last tear you had shed.

Spencer's screams echoed, as a loud sound came from the door that had soon been opened.

The whole team was shocked at the sight of the scene. You, on the floor, possibly dead, and Spencer's eyes on you.

The guy had attempted to point his gun at Spencer to kill him as well, but then three shots were heard. Next thing everyone saw, he fell on the floor.

The last memories were a blur. Spencer only remembered the sobs of the team, arms wrapping around him, nothingness, he suddenly felt empty.

You were gone.

No.

That wasn't real.

It couldn't.

You couldn't be dead.

It wasn't possible.

It…wasn't.

--------

A week has passed since your death. He had stayed in his apartment, wrapped in a blanket. Only breathing. He wasn't doing anything and hasn't been going out since your funeral.

Part of him didn't want to come. He didn't want that to happen. But at the same time, he would have regretted it forever if he hadn't come.

He had found himself in your room, at 7AM, looking at the stuff in the drawers, until a pack of envelopes caught his attention.

He took it in his hands, before a sob escaped his lips. He had immediately recognised your handwriting.

The first letter was addressed to him.

'Spence' was written on the back.

He opened it with shaky hands, reading the two first words.

Dear Spencer,

I know it's morbid to write this kind of letter, because I'm not dying soon, or dead; but, I wanted to write this for you and the other members, in case something happens to me.

I wouldn't want to leave everyone behind without them knowing how much I loved them, you would have the right to know.

The letter for the other members of the team are also in the drawer you found yours, so please don't forget to give the letter.

If you are reading this, something happened, it means that I'm not alive anymore.

This letter is for you, the love of my life, my best friend, my colleague, my husband, first of all, I love you, I always have, and will always love you.

I want to thank you for being part of my life.

You saved my life.

A week before I met you, I planned to commit suicide. I had no family, no friends, no one to count on anymore.

Everyone had left me behind.

I don't have an eidetic memory, so I don't remember the exact hour, only the day, but I'm sure you do remember.

It was on a Sunday, 14….or 15th of June. The day I met you, was the day I planned to die. I was at the coffee shop, probably drinking the last coffee of my life.

I wasn't dressed at all in a pretty way. I think I had a hoodie and old jeans. I had picked up my order and decided to sit at a table to try to enjoy the view as I wouldn't see it anymore.

I didn't put sugar at all in my coffee. I hated black coffee, but I didn't care anymore. Even if the coffee would spill on my clothes, I wouldn't care.

Nothing mattered anymore.

And, that's when you saved my life.

The fact that the sugar was still next to the cup, unopened, apparently caught your attention.

I wish I was dressed better. I looked pathetic and horrible.

But you only saw what I didn't see anymore in me. You thought I was pretty, amazing.

I don't know how and why, we began talking, which ended with me, writing my number on your arm before leaving the shop.

That's when I decided I didn't want to die anymore, I wanted to live for you. Only you.

I can't thank you enough. You saved me. I could have died that day, and we would have never met. I would have never dated you, married you, and lived happily with you.

You made all of this possible.

Spencer, don't change. Stay the person you are. Not only you are the sun of my life, but you're the sun of everyone in the team.

Thank you for being with me.

And please, if anything happens, if I'm gone; live for me.

I love you.

Your wife, y/n.

He couldn't see you anymore.

By the time Spencer had finished reading your letter, tears were falling down his cheeks; he still couldn't believe the fact that you were gone.

He couldn't kiss you anymore.

He couldn't touch you anymore.

What would he wake up to each day? Only to an empty bed.

The only memory of you he'll have will be the pictures and the smell on your clothes. But eventually, the smell would go away, and the pictures would only remain frozen memories forever.

He would have to live without you, breathe without you, only prepare one cup of coffee instead of two, cook for only one person, leave the house without having someone to say goodbye to, come back without having someone to say hello to; his entire life was ruined.

You were his entire life, the reason he was living, breathing.

And now that you weren't here anymore, what was he supposed to do?

His life was senseless, useless without you. He couldn't live, enjoy life, while you were six feet under ground,

Dead.

It wasn't fair.

None of it was fair.

He should have died that night.

It shouldn't have been you.

He collapsed into the bed, laying down on your pillow. It still smelled like you, he had desperately tried to pretend like you were still here, but you weren't, he couldn't hear your soft breathing, feel the air on his skin, your skin in contact with his, you weren't here, you wouldn't come back.

He had wished for it to be a bad dream, he had wished for it to only be a dream, and that you would be by his side again.

But it never happened.

He had to face the reality.

You were gone forever.

He had cried himself to sleep, holding your letter and one of your coats in his hands.

Tomorrow, he'd wake up to an empty bed.

Alone.

You would not be in the bed.

He would only wake up to the sound of the stupid alarm, not your voice.

He wouldn't feel your hands on his face, in his hair, on his body.

He hadn't slept at all.

He couldn't.

You were the only solution for him to sleep. No matter what was on his mind, no matter how stressed he was, when he'd feel you by his side, he would immediately calm down.

But now, he had nothing.

The apartment was empty.

Calm.

Soundless.

Lifeless.

For him, it wasn't his home anymore, only walls and flooring.

He'd have to live there, every single item in the house reminding him of you. Every moment, every look, every breath, would remind him of you.

Everyone had tried to talk to him, and sat with him for hours. But he had only stared at the wall, with an empty look.

Technically, he was still alive, still breathing, but he was dead inside. No one recognized him anymore.

It had been a month since your death, it felt like five to him.

Every single second, minute, hour, day without you was unbearable.

If he had to live it was with you, and only you.

If you weren't there, he couldn't live.

He had no reason to.

The cold floor he was laying on had just reminded him that he was still alive.

He felt so tired.

He didn't have the strength anymore.

He didn't want to fight anymore.

Not in a world where you didn't exist.

Not without you by his side.

Life had no meaning anymore.

The colors had been drained from the world from the moment life had left your body.

He hadn't felt this kind of peace for months.

He closed his eyes, and a few minutes later,

He saw you.

You had a yellow dress on, his favorite. He called your name, and saw your beautiful eyes once again.

A sad smile was on your face, as he saw you walking towards him.

"Spencer, why are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry y/n. I'm so sorry. I tried. I couldn't live without you, it was impossible."

"Shh, shh...it's okay. You tried babe, you tried. Now you're here. That's all that matters."

"But y/n, I broke the promise. I couldn't live for you, I didn't do it."

"Spencer, it's okay. Everything will go away, everything; because I'm here now, we're together. We're not away from each other anymore. I promise everything is going to be okay."

"...promise?"

"Promise." You took his hand, smiling at him.

You turned out to be right, everything went away.

He could finally allow himself to be relieved.

Now, he could be by your side forever.

Dear y/n,

So sorry.

I wrote this letter after you died. I had to tell you everything.

I'm sorry.

I can't do it anymore, I love you too much to the point I can't live without you anymore.

I want you to know that I'm grateful for all of the moments we've spent together.

Thank you for being my girlfriend.

Thank you for marrying me.

I'm sorry we didn't live long enough to have children. I wish we could have.

I know we would have named them after the team. Garcia would have been their godmother.

You wanted to have two, I wanted three, or five, like Matt.

I wanted to have mini versions of us running in the house. But it never happened, I'm sorry.

Thank you for all of these years you've spent with me.

I have never hated to be with you one single day. I always appreciated every day by your side.

You are so beautiful, don't forget that.

I could never thank you enough.

Spence.

I love you y/n.

--------

Left letters;

To the BAU, my family;

When I wrote this, I was still alive; but if you're reading it now, I'm not alive anymore. Something might have happened.

I want everyone to know what was on my mind.

Thank you for being an amazing team.

Derek, you were the brother I never had. You always stood by my side, and you can't imagine how grateful I am. I wish you the best, Savannah and Hank are lucky to have you by their side.

Hotch, you were like 'a step father', you protected me, listened to me, I could talk freely with you. Jack is an awesome little guy, I liked babysitting him.

Rossi, you also were like a father to me. You taught me how to cook, how to be better person, I owe you everything. I also want to thank you for marrying us at our wedding.

Emily, you are everything; a mother, sister, friend, I still remember all of the nights we've spent at the bar, on the couch eating ice cream, exchanging secrets, like little girls. I always had admired you.

Matthew, Luke, you guys have also the same role to me, you were the brothers I wished for, teasing me, pulling pranks on me, cheering me up, taking care of me, worrying just when I fell off my chair or when I had a paper cut.

JJ, you are amazing. You have made two wonderful children I loved to be around, they look exactly like you (No offense Will). You also were like Emily, my whole family.

It's the same for Tara, you had always listened to me. You are a strong and amazing woman.

I'm sorry if I repeated myself, but that is mostly because you guys are all my family, I feel the exact same way about everyone.

I am sorry for everything.

Garcia;

I'm sorry I couldn't live long enough to have children. You would have been their godmother, all of them.

You would have babysat them, even when I would have been free, you would have loved them so much.

You truly are the sun.

Thank you, everyone, for being yourself. You have brought me so much joy.

Whatever happens, don't change guys. Keep enlightening other people's lives like you always did.

I love you guys.

To the team;

y/n.

I'm sorry. Every time you guys were there, you had tried your best to cheer me up; and you did, but the pain had covered everything. The pain was stronger.

The pain won over everything.

I fought.

I tried.

But y/n was my whole life, and without her, I was nothing.

I missed her, so much. So much.

I'm so sorry.

Thank you for being a wonderful team.

Spencer.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #cm #criminal minds fic #derek morgan #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler

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bluecloudious · 3 years

Text

Kinda angst I guess (but it has Zanaz so take that with a grain of salt)

Trying out writing a story this time.

I mean, yeah, I wrote for the comics, but not long dialog.

So yea, as per both the funni boys mature content warning. (There's no canoodling, there is talk of it tho.)

Also there's quite a bit of text (8 pages worth on Word)

So ye:

“Get up, I have some juicy gossip for you.”

...What?

I open my eyes and the world around me is blinding. It’s so bright that it takes a second to adjust to it. There’s nothing around me other than vast white and empty space.

This definitely isn’t Nevada anymore. (Unless Hank managed to ruin everything even further somehow.)

“Get up now, I know you heard me.”

I get up and look around. Who the hell is talking? There’s literally nothing but white for miles.

“I’m in your head, pretty boy.”

Uh, that…

“I’m holding my eyes closed, don’t worry. I regret ever having them open in here, in fact.”

Welp, that answers that. Now for the other question.

“Who I am is not important. What info I have, may be of interest, though.”

Alright?

“There’s a deal attached to this knowledge, Zanaz. Hear me out before you start fidgeting.”

I’ll sure try.

“You know Kits, right?”

No duh, he’s my best friend.

“Excellent. He’s going to die soon.”

…

What?! Wha, when, how, uh--

“Calm down, jitterbug. There’s nothing you can do to stop his fate, so don’t try. If he doesn’t die one way, another thing will go wrong. Understand?”

I-- NO! What the fuck?! Are you gonna kill him?!

“No, not me. I’m just sharing the news.”

Yeah, right, sure. Fucking… When then?

“Soon.”

How soon? In a month, week or a few days?

“Hm… A month then, give or take.”

...Fuck… How?

“Depends on what leads up to it.”

So, there are a lot of different ways it can happen, right?

“Indeed there are.”

...Do I die with him?

“No.”

NO?! In none of the different variations, I don’t die by his side?

“Oh, you can be by his side, of course. But death isn’t after you.”

What if I try to block a bullet, but it goes through both of us.

“Oddly specific. You’ll still survive.”

What if I block it with my head?!

“Brain damage, possible vegetable state. Will still survive though.”

What if Hank slices us with one of his multiple katanas?!

“People have lived through being sliced in half before.”

WHAT.

“This world has zombie clowns with god like powers and the AAHW is lead by a man consisting of black fire.”

...Ugh, fair enough. So… Wait those are all possible deaths for him?

“If you do everything in your power for it to happen, then yes.”

I… I can kill him before his time?

“Of course! You have free will, don’t you? It’s more of a question if you want to.”

Of course I fucking don’t! I care about him!

“I saw. You daydream about him an uncomfortable amount.”

He’s the main person I’m around, give me a break!

“Have you ever considered not being horny?”

Until I’m castrated, there’ll be nothing of the sorts.

“You’re not even fertile! None of the clones are!”

You think I’m tryna get anyone pregnant at this sausage fest? Besides, that has not stopped me before.

“I refuse to believe that any of those scenes I saw play out in your head happened for real.”

You’d be surprised then.

“WHICH?!?”

Those are for me to treasure.

“...You’re pulling my leg.”

Believe what you want.

“Augh, never mind, TMI. Back onto the topic at hand.”

Oh, yeah, right. Kit… Dying…

Could you for real not give me a date?

“If it depends on the circumstances beforehand, then there’s no possible way to tell which one belongs to this timeline.”

And that means…?

“I don’t know how this Kits dies.”

Can I at least warn him?

“Well, there’s where the other side of the deal comes in. If you tell him, then the effect kicks in immediately.”

What effect? Death?

“Precisely.”

...Ah. Wait, so if I don’t tell him, he dies in a month but if I do, he dies immediately? Of what?

“Stroke, heart attack or brain aneurysm. Chosen at random. Oh, also sneak assassination. That’s also a valid option.”

...This feels set up.

“Mh?”

This feels like either you or whoever sent you here set this up so I’d suffer. You enjoy the pain of others, don’t you?

“I’m only the messen--”

Yeah, yeah, Messenger Bullshit. Then whoever decided this is probably a reality tv producer, who is jacking off to someone pushing in the soft part of a baby’s skull as we speak. You encourage such behaviour by working with them, ya know.

“...Do you think you sound smart?”

I know for a fact I’m not, so no. I’m pretty sure I’m on the money with this one though.

“If I wasn’t here then Kits’ death would come as a surprise to you though!”

I’d prefer that, actually! Now I have to deal with knowing that he… He… Won’t be here anymore soon.

“Well, knowing how overwhelmingly perverted you are, wouldn’t you wanna grab this opportunity?”

...What?

“Shoot your shot, ask him out. Not like you could do it with a corpse… …Right…?”

I may be horny, but I’m not messed up.

“Had to make sure.”

Ugh, you’re just making fun of me, aren’t you?

“Which instance are you referring to?”

Kit would never date me.

“And why exactly do you think that?”

He has standards?

“You’re a decently handsome fellow. You also get along with him just fine.”

That… That’s not a determinant of shit like that. There’s way better out there for him.

“He won’t meet em then. Only a month to live, remember?”

I… It’s not worth it.

“What isn’t?”

I know he’ll say no, there’s no point in trying.

“How do you know for sure until you actually ask?”

Cause it’s obvious! He’s actually got a brain in his noggin and he knows me way too well! He’d be fucking disgusted, man! We’re just friends and that’s that.

“Do you not want to then?”

...Why do you assume I do? How do you know that those aren’t just blissful fantasies like the rest of them?

“He’s the only one that you dream of in a non-perverted way. I see no other person in this graphic landscape that you want to hold hands with. (Also, I am closing my eyes again now, Jebus Christoff.)”

...Ffffuck.

“Well, did hit the nail on the head?”

Y-You’re stupid and gay!

“I’m rubber, you’re glue.”

That doesn’t affect me, I’m already openly gay and stupid!

“I guess we’re both such then.”

Dammit.

“So, you gonna give him a month to remember or not?”

…Eh?

“Come on, how much romance could a member of the A.A.H.W. really experience throughout their lifetime? If you’d make this month worth his and your own time, perhaps it would be less painful to see him go? At least he died happy?”

THAT WOULD BE EXTRA PAINFUL FOR ME, THOUGH!

“Oop, Zanaz selfish, you heard it here first, folks.”

That’s not what I meant. I’d already be upset over losing my best friend, imagine how fucking devastating losing a sweetheart would be.

“…I dunno, still sounds selfish to me. Does his happiness not mean anything to you?”

Who says he’d be happy with me?

“I know you want to make him happy, at least. You dream about his smile.”

STOP FUCKING LOOKING THOUGH MY THOUGHTS!!

“I’m not looking anymore, I just memorized the ones I already saw. (I wish I couldn’t.)”

I- You- Fucking-- UggHHH! It’s not worth it!

“What exactly do you imagine will happen if you tell him how you feel, huh? World combusts?”

I already told you, he already knows way too much about me! He’d be fucking grossed out and we’ll… We’ll stop being friends.

He’d quicken his pace whenever we’d have to pass each other in one of the halls. He’d desperately keep his glance away from me. He’d… I’d stop being the main person he talks and comes to company for a-and I can’t fucking have that, man!

I-I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He means too much to me.

“…I had no idea you were this insecure.”

FUCK OFF! It’s a bitter reality that I’ve come to accept!

“You haven’t even given it a shot!”

You don’t need to get crushed by a piano to know you’d die on impact!

“Those two things don’t correlate even remotely!”

It’s a metaphor!

“I know that, I’m saying that Kits has a thing for you too!”

…He what?

“He has major league crush on you! The things you say when play-flirting excite him! He’s gotten off to the thought of you touching him up! The works! (Why did I word it like that?)”

Whuh-- How the fuck do you know this??

“While you were monologuing, I visited his subconscious and confirmed it for myself.”

You can do that??

“You don’t even know my name.”

...Fair nuff. So, wait, he’s actually gotten off thinking about me?

“I don’t even need to open my eyes to already know you’re imagining it. Short answer, yes. He’s into you, Zanaz.”

Augh, I dunno what to do with this info. It’s kinda... Overwhelming in a way.

Actually, wait, how do I know you haven’t been lying to me this whole time?

“I’m an incorporeal voice in your head that’s having a back and forth with you in a white void.”

Yeah, and?

“…I’m supernatural?”

Yeah, and?

“Come on! I just know, okay?!”

Sounds fake, not gonna lie.

“The part where I knew that Kits was gonna die was convincing, but the moment I mention that he might have a thing for you, you question the validity of my claims thus far??”

One sounds way more far-fetched than the other, you gotta admit.

“NO IT DOESN’T?!?!”

For you maybe! I’ve known him since I’ve been out the cloning tube! We became agents together! I think I’d know what kinda stuff is off the table for him, buddy.

“Well, not only are you wrong, you’re in denial.”

I am not!

“Then try it! Just attempt asking him out! In the very least, you’ll remain friends after. I promise you. Cross my heart and all that jazz.”

…

…You’re absolutely positive? You are also the person that told me he’d die in a month’s time.

“A hundred percent positive. I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You have a life?

“Unfortunately. So, you’ll do it?”

Why’re you so adamant about me fucking Kits?

“Affgdgfdgfg, it’s not about you fucking him, it’s you making his last living month worthwhile!”

Okay, so, why do you want me to do that?

“…Do you not??”

I mean, I guess that sounds worth my time. But you didn’t answer my question.

“Sorry for assuming that you want the person you’re madly in love with to be happy, I guess??”

Apology accepted. Now, how do I get outta here?

“Ugh, just wake up.”

Whu--

And I’m sitting up in my own mat, back at the facility. The clock shows that it’s early morning.

What the fuck do I make of what I just saw? Or heard, for that matter? It clearly wasn’t a normal dream, I never remember those. Plus the topic tends to blur together usually.

I gotta tell-- Wait, I can’t do that, fuck.

…

It’s way to early for shit like this, man!!

Augh…

#It's got pictures <:)#OC #Madness combat #I took my time with this one and like how it came out #Augh I had to even edit the text and shit on Tumblr...#I be like *gives Zanaz even more personality*#KitZan

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thenightgazer · 3 years

Text

A Long Way Home

While still trapped in the Underworld, Dante and Vergil have to resolve their family issue. One that can't be solved only by swords and guns.

It's been two years since Red Grave incident, one week after Christmas, and still no news about Dante and Vergil. That leaves Nero terribly upset, but little did he know that miracle will come to him very soon.

Merry Christmas @nibbbs! Surprise surprise, I’m your secret santa from @dmcsecretsanta! Hopefully you enjoy the gift I wrote for you! Happy reading and happy holiday!

You can also read it on my AO3!

~~~

The Underworld has never been this quiet before.

That forsaken place is the real no man’s land; always boisterous with fights between demons to take over the throne of the Underworld. Be it a slaughter between lower demons or higher demons, they couldn’t care less. Their primal instinct is just craving more power and of course, human flesh. But since the portal to cross into the human world isn’t always unfolded, cannibalism is ineluctable. It’s either eat or be eaten. It’s bound to happen and demons don’t have any choices but to yield to the Underworld’s natural law. Surviving and escaping the Underworld seems like an absurd fantasy for humans, even for demons as well.

Which is why voluntarily jumping into the depth of the Underworld to save the world is considered to be a valiant and honorable act, yet also frivolously lunatic.

Well, for Dante, lunatic sounds like his middle name, if he ever had one.

He chuckles by the thought of that.

“What are you laughing at?” Dante’s problematic twin brother Vergil snarls.

“Nothing,” Dante closes his eyes. “Just having a weird thought.”

Vergil replies nothing. He shows no interest in Dante's daydream, but that’s just probably because he’s too tired to even think of a reply. The twins couldn’t count how many days have passed since they cut the Qliphoth tree down. They spared and killed any demons nearby, exploring other regions of the Underworld simply because they are bored and need some time to rebound their lost time as brothers. Now, exhaustion forces them to take some rest. They lean side by side on the scorched desert, staring at the perpetual black sky while restoring their energy.

Dante can sense a demon’s presence not too far from where he is right now, but that presence fades eventually. “You feel that too, Verge?”

“I do,” Vergil murmurs. “The words have been spoken, I presume. That they better not to disturb us if they still want to live.”

“Well, once we recover, they’re going to die anyway.”

Vergil’s short hum speaks of his concurrence.

Dante shifts his hands under his head as he glances to his brother. Vergil stiffly lies on the ground with Yamato on his chest while his hands gripping on it. He might close his eyes but Dante knows his brother can still attack his opponent while closing his eyes. As hard as a steel, this old bastard, Dante amuses at his idea. “Rest means relaxing, bro. You don’t have to be on guard all the time.”

“I’m preparing for any attack.”

“It’s not like there is a demon near us at this moment.”

“Have some self-consciousness, Dante. You could attack me at any time, given a chance.”

Dante wakes up straight away. “Why would I wanna attack you?!”

“There’s always a possibility.”

“Says the guy who always has the intention to kill me, huh,” Dante lies back again. “Seriously, Verge. Just for five minutes, stop thinking and go to sleep. Bet it’s been a while since you have a proper sleep, right?”

Neither show any agreement or disagreement, Vergil turns his head to Dante. “Why are you still awake then?”

“Huh? To keep an eye on you, of course. Who knows you’d do some weird shit outta there again.”

Vergil curves a smirk, then turns his eyes to the dark sky again. “I see. You are also scared of me attacking you while you’re asleep, aren’t you? We’re twins, after all.”

“I don’t-” Dante almost bite his mouth.. “Man, you’re as sharp and annoying as you always have been.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“Yeah right.”

And there’s silence again. It’s been days, or weeks, since the last time Dante hears any demonic voices around him. To be honest, he kind of expects their appearance. He likes talking to Vergil, but the older brother has an issue in healthy communication. Hell, Vergil is a difficult person and Dante wonders if the eldest children around the world are always like this. But Dante realizes he is also no expert in social interaction, and fighting is also the only thing they both are good at. Vergil would talk a little bit much when fighting, even if it’s mostly taunting and mocking Dante, yet it’s better than having Vergil succumb to the dark side again.

“By the way,” Dante breaks the ice. “Are you ready now to tell me who’s the lucky girl a.k.a Nero’s mom?”

Vergil draws the Yamato above Dante’s throat. “One more word, and I’ll cut you into pieces.”

“C’moooon! I’m curious!”

The Yamato is now touching Dante’s skin. “Final warning, Dante.”

Dante flicks the Yamato’s blade. “Fine. Whenever you’re ready, bro. You might not want to tell me, but you owe that to Nero. He’s your son. He deserves to know.”

Vergil sheathes Yamato, scoffing at Dante’s warning. “It’s not like I’m going back to the human world.”

“Well, we HAVE to!”

“Pray tell why I should agree with you.”

“I have a shop to run and there’s a new menu at my favorite pizza parlor. You should try it, by the way. And you got a lot to explain to Nero. You don’t wanna be a deadbeat like Father, right? Though you kinda already are all this time.”

“You know it better than anyone else that I didn’t know Nero’s existence until you told me so.”

“Which is more reason why you have to come back to the human world soon. You can say you don’t need to catch up with Nero but I know you want it. You left him your frigging book; the same one you didn’t allow me to borrow. Dear ol’ Vergil got some soft spots for his son, huh?”

Vergil turns his back from Dante like a sulking child, ignoring his younger twin’s laughter. As expected from a cold man like him, he won’t ever admit that every single of Dante’s words is true. Again, a long and neglected fear consumes him. What’s fatherhood for a man who ran out of place and time like him anyway? Is there any chance for him to fix his family? Getting back in terms with Dante is one thing, but with Nero, the son he had never met before his escapement from the Underworld? Does he even have a right to call him his son after all he had done to him?

After quite long of silence and battle with himself, Vergil murmurs a question to Dante. “How old is he?”

Dante almost squealed if only he didn’t remember not to ruin Vergil’s mood or else they won’t have any friendly conversation anymore. “Nero? Twenty-something, I guess. Haven’t asked him myself.”

“How did you meet each other?”

“Long short story, some weird-ass cult that worshipped our father as a god turned out evil and wanted to use our father’s power to rule the world-”

“The Order of the Sword?”

“Right! You did your research! Nero was one of them but rebelled after they kidnapped his girlfriend and killed her brother. I came to Fortuna to retrieve the Sparda sword and apparently your kid was able to summon the Yamato and I got the picture already. He got white hair, he summoned Yamato, tried to kill me repeatedly, stab me with Rebellion and Yamato, craving for more power to save his beloved. I wondered where he got that from, by the way~”

A hint of smirk curves in Vergil’s mouth.

“Then we worked together to save Fortuna from a pope who was obsessed with our Father and destroyed the island. We succeeded and brought peace. Nero got his girlfriend back, and we established the branch of Devil May Cry in Fortuna. The end.”

“A heartwarming, and very unoriginal story.”

“You think I made up that story?”

“Didn’t say that. I am merely implying that I heard stories similar to your experience.”

“Hell knows you are the coldest person alive, but you are a terrible liar. You are a man of pride, after all. Lying doesn’t suit you.”

“I can tell thousands of lies as I please, if only that’s necessary,” Vergil takes a brief look at Dante’s mischievous face. “But I won’t, if it’s concerning my son.”

Is this really the Vergil I used to know? Dante can’t hold his grin while elbowing his brother. “Starting to feel like a real dad, huh?”

“Silence.”

“Admitting that you love your son won’t do any harm, Verge.”

“I-” Vergil stumbles upon his own words. He growls impatiently, hurrying himself to get up and sit down as he wipes his face frustratedly. “We’re not having this conversation anymore.”

“Why? Just because you can’t admit that you grew care for your son?”

“Because I’m a terrible person!”

That was the most honest words that came from Vergil, if anything, ever. When was the last time he showed his vulnerable side like this? Even as V, crumbling and dying slowly, he didn’t even spare Dante any sign of defeat and regret. Dante gets up, clapping Vergil’s shoulder. “Only if you still want to destroy the world and kill your own family, then maybe I’d call you the worst shit in the world too.”

Vergil shakes his head. “If only…”

“Huh?”

“Had I known I have a son back then…” Vergil says bitterly. “I would never leave him. I would never go pursuing power or raising that foolish tower and this ridiculous tree…” he points to the remains of Qliphoth tree with his sword. “I would have a better chance to be… a good father for him…”

Regret always comes late, isn’t it? The ‘if onlys’ never come at the front of the mind, merely whispering behind the head but never appearing into the surface before regret comes. Vergil knows that, but never really understands it until Dante tells him that Nero- the very man whose arm was ripped by him and still willing to help him in every way- is his own flesh and blood. His priority was to seal the gate of the Underworld and cut the Qliphoth tree, so that Nero and the rest of the human world are safe and sound. He will stay in the Underworld to redeem himself, for he thinks he has no place in the human world for all he has done. He planned to create a portal to the human world after he fixed things up with Dante to kick him out from the Hell with force, because he knows Dante won’t leave him alone again and will do anything to drag Vergil out from the Underworld. The plan is simple. It should have been easy to execute.

Yet ever since Vergil landed at this hellhole, his steps are getting heavier as time goes on. A haunting voice inside his head kept telling him to come back to Nero as soon as he finished his job cutting Qliphoth roots. Another sound tells him he should stay longer here with Dante to catch up with their sibling bound. The third sound, more demanding and urging, tells him to stay in the Underworld forever as a redemption.

“Y’know, bro,” Dante folds his legs as he seizes the Yamato from Vergil’s hand and puts it on the ground, which dismays Vergil. “Gotta admit that I wanted to kill you because I wanted to free you from evil, and get rid of Nero’s burden of having you as his father. Though he proved to us that we are just a bunch of nonsensical idiots who got unsolved sibling problems between us-”

“I am not an idiot!”

“You might have scored higher on the Math test than me but you’re still an idiot!” Dante barks. “Anyway that’s not my point! What I mean to say is, as much as I hate your dumb-as-rock head, you’re still my brother. And it’s never too late to fix things up.”

Vergil scoffs and takes his sword back to his embrace again. “How can you be so sure?”

“I blamed you, y’know, for that day” Dante admits, his eyes getting darker and the carefree vibe in his voice is gradually gone. “For not rescuing me and Mother.”

Vergil streaked at that confession. “What do you mean?”

“You thought Mother only saved me and left you behind while she died searching for you,” Dante woefully chuckles. “But for me, on that day, I thought you would come to rescue us.”

“I was planning to-”

“She could have hid with me in the closet until you come to save us. That’s what I thought back then when she died, and you never came back. I thought you left us, before I heard one of them say they had you killed. There I was; frightened and thinking that I was alone. My mother and brother died. No one could save me but myself. I was blaming you for running away that day. If you didn’t, we could have defeated them all and protected our home.”

“Or, we could have died. All of us.”

“Exactly. Instead of blaming you, I blamed myself for picking a fight with you. Should’ve left you and your book alone,” Dante stands up, spinning the Ivory before shooting a flying demon that approaches them. “I lived by loathing myself, until I met you again in that cursed church, remember? I was genuinely happy to see you.”

“I remember,” Vergil nods slowly, recalling a blurry picture of their younger selves. “You said you are a devil hunter and will be filthy rich someday.”

“Still waiting for that day, actually. Yet you fucker started being a dick, saying shits about power and stuff,” Dante’s harsh voice trembles slightly. “I thought we could start over as a family, but you decided to fucking stay in the Underworld. I couldn’t save you at the gate of the Underworld. I couldn’t save you at Mallet Island. I could save everyone else, but not my own family.”

Vergil raises up. His arm is reaching Dante’s shoulder, but it never touches him. His hesitation is rational, for he knows words can’t describe how Dante must have felt towards Vergil. Hatred might be the wrong word; it sounds too soft. Too lenient, too merciful.

One could tell it’s disappointment, Vergil gets his answer as Dante turns over to face him. The mischievous little brother side of Dante has gone as he aims his gun at Vergil. It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend. Let alone a family.

Dante wails horridly. “Always the quiet one, ain’t cha? Remember how our parents always told me to be quiet like you? ‘Why can’t you just behave like Vergil?’ Guess what? At least I’m not the one who fucked the world up and ripped off my son’s arm-”

“Dante-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Dante’s grip on Ivory is slightly trembling as he snaps. “I’ve been through shits too, Vergil. I missed Father and Mother. I missed you, for fuck sake! After all this time I believed I killed you in Mallet Island, then you came out of nowhere to destroy the world. I came out with the conclusion that you didn’t even change a bit, just an egomaniacal who thinks the world only revolves around him. I needed to kill you again because I don’t want my nephew to kill his own father. Don’t you fucking realize how maddening was that?!”

A bullet passes through Vergil’s head. The older hybrid stands still without any intention to return the attack, only wiping the blood from his forehead. I don’t have the right to be irritated, he reminds himself while his mouth forms a bitter grimace as Dante puts the gun on Vergil’s forehead, ready to pull the trigger anytime soon. For a second Vergil can sense Dante is going to lose his temper as he catches a glimpse of red flash in Dante’s eyes. Ever since they were kids, Vergil was always aware that Dante in his total wrath is dangerous. A ticking bomb , Vergil recalls what their father said about Dante’s anger as he watches the raging fire in Dante’s eyes ignite until it’s slowly fading.

“But I changed my mind again,” Dante continues. “Instead of blaming you and carrying on the bad blood, I choose to start over. And that’s how I can be sure,” he pokes Vergil’s head with the gun before putting it back into his coat. “That everyone deserves a second chance and it’s never too late to fix what you have done.”

The red devil yawns as he slams himself on the ground again, stretching his hands before he closes his eyes. “Sorry for raising my voice. It’s just impossible to use soft words whenever I’m talking to a stubborn jackass like you.”

He opens one of his eyes to see what Vergil would react. His older brother sighs heavily, sitting beside Dante’s lying body and puts his katana on the ground. For a man with a soul of a true warrior like Vergil, putting weapons down on the ground is a sign of defeat. Which is the reason why he was slightly aggravated when Dante seized the Yamato and put it on the ground as if he told Vergil to surrender. It should be a humiliating act, but for once Vergil throws his pride away.

Because you are right, Dante.

“Dante,” he calls his brother. This time there’s no hostility in his voice, only sincerity and repentance. “I am ever so sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Dante smirks playfully. “Why do you think I’m here if I still hold a grudge against you?”

“I mean it,” Vergil emphasizes. “Truthfully. For everything I have done… and my sincere gratitude for taking good care of my son while I wasn’t there for him.”

“Honestly, Verge. Forget it. I only do what I have to do.”

Watching his little brother finally howls in laughter, a surge of warmth fills Vergil’s veins as he joins the laughter. It’s comforting, since they can’t remember the last time they laugh together without any fight and bad blood. I barely remember how it feels like to have a family, Vergil chuckles while Dante kicks Vergil’s knee mischievously. Was it always this… warm?

“Dante.”

“Yup?”

“I think we should go back to the human world now.”

Dante whistles in joy. “Ready to meet your grandkids?”

“Do tell me the truth,” Vergil growls, impetuously tugs Dante’s collar. “Are you serious about grandchildren or you just make it up?”

“For fuck sake, Verge! Didn’t you know that already when you ripped your son’s arm?”

“I didn’t pay much attention... I can only recall a voice of woman called Nero for dinner- not the voice of that mouthful friend of Nero-”

“Yeah that was Kyrie. Your soon-to-be daughter in law. Anyway they adopted kids called Carlo, Kyle, and Julio,” Dante pats Vergil’s shoulder with pride and teasing manner. “Congratulations, you’re officially a grandpa! What a fine day for revelation!”

As if my life could get any worse, Vergil grinds his teeth in frustration as he releases Dante from his grip. “How unfortunate.”

“C’mon, swing that flimsy sword of yours and make a portal to the human world. We got plenty of things to do! I gotta pay those bills, refurbish my shop, return Kalina Ann to Lady, and buy a birthday present for Patty.”

“Rather a cumbersome list you got there, Dante.”

“What can I say? I’m a busy man! Now get your ass up, old man! Nero’s waiting!”

---

It’s already two fucking years.

Nero was never a believer. There’s no such thing as a miracle, he told himself. Protecting Kyrie and the kids is an endless responsibility that bestowed upon him. There’s nothing he won’t do for their happiness and safety, even if it means to cost his own well-being. He relies on nobody but himself. He doesn’t pray. He never tries to exceed any expectation, because hope is a dangerous and fragile thing. Hope bothers him, and he hates to be bothered.

Yet, lately, he almost surrendered by the temptation to hold some hope.

What hope? Nero rejects his own thought. For those douchebags to return safely? Gimme a break.

Sitting in his garage and polishing the Red Queen, Nero takes a brief look at the snowy ground outside of the house where the children are building a snowman. He grins at Kyle who waves at him; the youngest from the three children he adopted, who’s now taller and braver than he used to be when he found the little boy searching for some scraps at Fortuna’s slum. Nero chuckles when a glimpse of a picture of Vergil meeting Kyrie and the boys pops out from his head. Would they be pleased to meet him? Would Vergil be pleased to meet them? Would he himself be pleased to meet Vergil again? There’s no fucking way for them to coming back, Nero slaps himself. They either die or shit themselves in the Underworld. Probably fucking fighting again like toddlers.

Still, the thought of his father and uncle somehow return and meeting his little family is overwhelming. Nero can’t even hide his smile anymore. He throws away the rug he uses to wipe the blade and hangs the Red Queen on the wall.

Come to think of it, that fucker ripped off my arm in this garage too.

He lays a hard punch on the wall.

“Keep punchin’ the wall, and ya would destroy the house.”

Nero glances at his friend and partner in crime, Nico, who rests her back on the van and lights her cigarette. He still finds it strange to witness Nico in her winter outfit, a contrast to her usual tanktop and shorts she used to wear before winter comes. "How many times have I told you to smoke outside the house?”

“Ya blind or what? It’s cold outside!”

“Darn it, Nico! Then don’t smoke!”

“Too late~” Nico barks a laugh while blowing a smoke. “Anyway, why did you punch the wall like a madman?”

Nero shrugs nonchalantly. “Nothing. Just feeling like punching something.”

“Cut the bullshit. Ya missed yer old man, ain’t cha?”

“Buzz off, Nico.”

“Aaaaw, don’t be so meanie~”

“Seriously, Nico. Go bugger off someone else. I’m not in the mood for having a chit-chat.”

“Everyone’s worried, ya know,” Nico exhales exaggeratedly, pointing at the children outside. “Those lil’ brats asked me if somethin’ pissed ya off because ya look like ya wanted to punch someone in the face since the Christmas party last week.”

“I indeed want to punch a certain person,” Nero lets out a cackle. “But he’s not available at the moment.”

“Y’know, I’m not an expert of daddy and son shits, and yer dad is obviously not an ideal father, but it’s totally okay for ya to miss him. The jackass did save the world, at least.”

“Thanks, Nico. That’s so motivational. I’m deeply touched- ouch !” Nero swears when a sturdy plug lands on his head. “What the fuck Nico?!”

“Talk to Kyrie,” Nico lowers her voice. Her brash mouth always sounds kinder and empathetic when she talks about Kyrie. “Ya locked yerself in this garage the whole day! You’re making her worried, ya know?”

“I think you should double your eyeglasses. I didn’t lock myself. See that door? It’s unhinged, because I need to make sure the kids are alright.”

“Yeaaah whatever. Go talk to her, pretty boy. I’ll watch over the brats.”

“Fine…” Nero scratches his nape as he walks away from the garage. “Don’t let the kids go anywhere near my weapons!”

“Gotcha~!”

Nero never meant to worry anyone, of course. He lives a happy life; he married the love of his life, adopted a bunch of orphans whom he loved and took care of equally, and ran a business with his best friend whom he considered a big sister. The world is currently safe from danger. So what's to worry about?

His confusion disappears when he sees Kyrie’s figure covered in a thick blanket at the terrace. She smiles happily as the snow continues to fall and catches a drop on her palm. Nero feels like he could melt anytime he sees Kyrie’s soothing smile. He takes his time to watch her catching snow as he leans against the door, ignoring the cold breeze that sneaks inside his body. It doesn’t take a long time for Kyrie to be aware of Nero’s presence as she asks him to join her at the terrace.

“You should put your coat on, Nero. It’s cold here.” Kyrie speaks her concern while she wraps him with her blanket.

“Chill out. I’m fine,” Nero gives her a light peck on the forehead. His right hand envelopes Kyrie’s waist to give her a sense of comfort. “The kids are building snowmans back there. Been hours and who knows when they will stop.”

Kyrie giggles. “The more they grow up the more energetic they become! At least we don’t need to worry about how to get them to sleep on time. I believe they’ll get exhausted after play and filling their stomachs with delicious dinner would quicken their way to sleep!”

“You’re right.”

Kyrie looks up at her lover’s tensed face. She brushes the tip of Nero’s nose slightly to make him smile. That little maneuver always succeeded to cheer him up. Kyrie rests her head on Nero’s chest. “Are you not happy with the Christmas party last week? I know you hated surprises but-”

“No- I liked it! Really! You know we rarely celebrate things lately and last week was one of the best days in my life! How could I hate that?” Nero tightens his grip on Kyrie’s waist, gazing at Kyrie’s eyes deeply. “I’m happy, Kyrie. I’m happy here with our little family.”

“Then it must have something to do with your father and uncle, is it?”

“That obvious, huh?” Nero smirks bitterly. “I just… I don’t know. You know how Dante is. To think that he’s actually my uncle is… weird. Then I found out the man who screwed up Red Grave was his brother. My father. Vergil, he left me when I was a child… as V, he manipulated me to do his agenda. He reemerged and left me again. And Dante didn't even bother to tell me the fact before Vergil was back. That made me feel… kinda betrayed. It still doesn’t make any sense to me. I got a pair of dysfunctional family members and I don’t know what I should do if they come back. I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

The only parental figure Nero ever had was just Kyrie and Credo’s parents, and they didn’t even live that long to give little Nero more love and parental advice. Kyrie truly understands Nero’s struggle to accept his heritage and keep holding on his humanity. “Nero… do you forgive your father?”

“What?”

“I don’t mean to bring it up again, but after all the ill he caused to you, do you forgive him?”

The memory of him and Vergil on the top of the Qliphoth tree rises again. He succeeded in bringing some sense back to his father and the old man entrusted him his precious book- the one which Nero kept safely on the shelf- before jumping to Hell and finishing what he started. Vergil didn’t say much, but his promise… his damn promise!

“I won’t lose next time. Hold onto that until then.”

“I forgive him,” Nero admits. “I think… I just miss him. And Dante. I really want us to be a proper family. That's all.”

“Just as I thought,” Kyrie cups Nero’s jaw with her hands. “I’m glad that you’re honest with yourself. There’s nothing wrong with missing them. They might be flawed, but they are your family."

Nero carefully caresses his beloved hands as if he's afraid of hurting her. "I'm sorry I keep putting you to my demon lineage problem…"

"Hey, we talked about this. Demon or human, it's you I want to be with…" she kisses him on the lips. "I love you, Nero."

"I love you too." He returns the kiss deeper.

Nero wraps her around his arms, seeking comfort and warmth from her presence. Kyrie's words succeed in getting his head together. He can feel a degree of burden has left his shoulders as he finds himself finally letting go his worries. Kyrie is right. There's nothing wrong with missing those douchebags. They're my family-

"NERO!"

Nico appears out of nowhere at the terrace, panting and panicking like she ran for her life. Every single nerve inside Nero's body tells him that something wrong is happening, but the sassy smirk on Nico's face while she tries to breathe normally tells another thing. "You're not gonna believe me if I told you this-"

"Are the kids safe?" Kyrie asks anxiously.

"Yeah they're fine. They have company."

What the fuck? "Company? What are you talking about?!"

Nico rolls her eyes as she grabs both of Nero and Kyrie's hands. "Just follow me quickly!"

Nico seems excited… if it wasn't a danger, then what?

The children are giggling and shouting happily at something Nero can't see yet. But as soon as Nico delivers them in the backyard, he spots two familiar figures among the kids. The red-coated man joins them to decorate the snowman as he helps them crafting the pile of snow with stones and branches. He summons a cowboy hat and a shiny red scarf from thin air- which excites the kids- before he puts the hat on the snowman's head and wraps its neck with the scarf as the last touch. The children are applauding and hugging him, saying their gratitude and bombing him with questions on how he could summon stuff only from thin air. The cocky red man barks in laughter and tells them that he learns some magic tricks.

In a contrast to the red man, the blue-coated man stands a bit far from the crowd, facepalming and reluctant to do anything despite the children's curiosity as they glance at him and whisper their surprise on how similar his face is with the red man. Carlo states that the blue man is scary, and quickly hides behind the red man when the blue man hears his mutter and glares at the poor kid.

"C'mon, Verge, stop glaring at the kids! You're scaring them!" The red man chuckles.

Dante?

Vergil?

How-? Since when…?

"You…" Nero breathes heavily, barely trusts his vision. "You guys are alive…"

Dante grins and waves a salute at Nero. "Heya, kid! Miss me? I know we're late, but Merry Christmas!"

Kyrie holds her giggle when she catches Nero's dumbstruck face. She grips his hand and whispers him a word of advice. "Time to let your doubts go, Nero. They are here, at last."

Nero gives a nod, but his mouth isn't capable of forming any words. He reluctantly approaches Vergil, who seems nonchalant about his surroundings, if only Nero failed to catch his father's warm gaze as he stands before Vergil. A minute has passed and none of them say anything. Words cannot describe how they feel towards each other.

But Nero decides to solve the problem in Sparda's family old-fashioned style: punching his father hard right in the face.

There echoes Dante and Nico's laughter as Vergil's body lands violently on the ground, covered with snow.

The older son of Sparda can taste a metallic scent liquid dripping from his lips.

"That hurts," he murmurs and proceeds to get up as he wipes the blood from his mouth. "Two years and still have no manners, I see."

"Fuck you, old man!" Nero spats angrily.

Dante, still laughing at the picture of his brother getting sucker-punched by Nero, sloppily walks to approach them. He pats Nero's shoulder in pride. "You're doing the right thing, Nero. You gave him the right Christmas present-"

The legendary devil hunter gets a very lethal slap from his nephew before he finishes his sentence.

"And that's a present for you, deadweight!" The young devil hunter shouts.

The view of Dante and Vergil getting slammed by Nero only increases Nico's laughter.

"Why did Nero punch Mr. Dante and Mr. Vergil?" Carlo asks Kyrie. "Nero always punches bad people. Are they bad people?"

"Well… no, they are good people! Mr. Vergil is Nero's father and Mr. Dante is Nero's uncle," Kyrie chuckles to hide her worry and struggles to find the correct way to explain the situation. "They haven't met for a very long time. Nero misses them so much that he… doesn't know what to do anymore. But punching people doesn't solve problems, so don't ever do that, okay?"

The kids nod obediently despite not completely understanding the circumstances.

"Can we stop Nero from punching them, Kyrie?" asks Julio, the oldest one from the three. "Family doesn't hurt each other, right?"

"Nah, don't worry. They will stop soon," Nico says as he points at the three hybrids. "Let 'em get the reunion they deserve."

They become calm and smiling at the sight of Nero bringing his father and uncle in a tight embrace together as the young man lets out a cry.

"You both are full of shits and stinky… like a scavenger…" Nero sobs, his teeth grinding hard. "At least take a shower before you show up, dumbass…!"

Dante sneers as he taps Nero’s back. “Yeah, I miss you too.”

The red devil glares at his twin. Say something to your son!

Vergil, unmoved and stiff, doesn’t know how to react from this awkward embrace. He feels uncomfortable, yet finds himself melting between this fuzzy feeling. “Nero…”

“Shut up,” Nero interrupts while breaking his embrace and burying his teary eyes on his palm. “Just fucking shut up.”

“Forgive me,” the blue devil insists to continue. “For leaving you again.”

“Yeah yeah, just shut up...”

Nero jolts by the unexpected weight on his head; Vergil’s hand ruffles his hair as he curves a very subtle smile.

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Oh how Nero wanted to punch him again, if only he could bring himself to.

“Uhm…” Kyrie comes to Nero’s rescue as she smiles politely to the twins. “I’m sorry to interrupt this reunion. It’s dinner time and… we would be very happy if the two of you join us for supper.”

“We’d be glad!” Dante accepts cheerfully. “Nero once told me you cook the best meal in Fortuna!”

“Shut up, Dante!” Nero grunts. He remembers he hasn’t told the twins that Kyrie and him are married. He pulls Kyrie closer and holds her hand firmly. “Anyway, Father. This is my wife, Kyrie. Kyrie, this is Vergil. My father.”

Kyrie smiles warmly at Vergil. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Vergil.”

Vergil appreciates Kyrie’s bravery and gives his sincerest nod of approval. There is not a single hint of fright from Kyrie as he recalls how people tend to tremble and stutter in fear whenever they talk to him. He can see why Nero loves her and is very protective towards her. “Thank you for taking good care for my son all this time.”

“Sorry for missing your wedding party, babe. We’ve been busy cleaning up Hell,” Dante grins at Kyrie. “Congratulations. My nephew is lucky to have you as his wife.”

“Can you shut up already?” spats Nero, feeling terribly embarrassed.

“I’m hungry~!” Nico shouts mischievously. “Let’s continue inside! It’s damn freezin’ out here!”

Kyrie gives the twins a final nod as she invites them to come inside the house. She runs to the kitchen with Nico while Nero gathers the kids to enter the house. Dante chuckles like a cocky cool uncle when Julio asks him to do another magic trick, and the little chuckle turns into a bigger laughter when he sees Vergil’s hand tucked in Kyle’s hand as the youngest child calls him Grandpa Vergil.

“Grandpa’s hand is cold!” Kyle says, unaware of Vergil’s death glare. “Once you eat Kyrie’s food, you’ll be warm in no time!”

“Let go of my hand, little rascal.” Vergil scoffs, uncomfortable by the strange kindness from the little child.

Kyle laughs and keeps guiding him to the kitchen. The food is prepared and everyone is about to get their seats. Carlo drags a chair beside Dante’s seat and shyly asks Vergil to sit there, which Vergil accepts.

“Starting to feel like coming back home?” Dante asks his brother.

“This is not bad.”

“I’ve contacted Lady and Trish. They will be here soon,” Nico says as she puts the cigarette on the ashtray. “Lady said something about returning her Kalina Ann. Trish gave her regards, and said that ya need to pay the rent as soon as possible.”

“Damn… those devilish ladies…” Dante buries his face on the table.

“Your office looks like shit without you.” Nero sneers at Dante.

Further family resolvement can wait. Now let them enjoy their first family dinner for the first time. Christmas might have passed a week ago, but Nero thinks his most valuable present had just arrived today. He still wants to beat the shit out of his father and uncle for some unknown reasons, but it can wait for later. His eyes meet Vergil’s, and his father forms a warm smile to him. He never says much, Nero knows that, but he can give him time to adjust in the human world.

Amidst the chants and chatter in the house, unbeknownst to each other, the three descendants of Sparda secretly hope that this rare moment can last forever.

#dmcsecretsanta #dmc #devil may cry #dante #vergil #nero #kyrie #nico #nero x kyrie #night writes #nibbbs

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fallenhero-rebirth · 4 years

Text

Brain update

First, let me say that this isn't about what anybody has done. My reactions are not in proportion to anything that has happened, and might be considered odd, weird and sensitive to people involved.

So let me explain.

I'm an Aspie (what we call ourselves in Sweden), on the autism spectrum. Yeah, might have guessed that from the story I'm writing, Sidestep is not the only one trying to figure out how people work.

Over the years I have built up an arsenal of knowledge and analysis to be able to pretend to be neurotypical, something that I can manage alright most days, but which breaks down once you get to know me better. I'm open with this at my current job, and luckily both my bosses seem to be okay dealing with open communication and just telling me what I need to do.

It was not always like this, and that is one of the reasons why I had a breakdown and needed to get off discord/tumblr.

Back in the late nineties, I had finally got my dream job. I was a product developer in the food industry, part of a rather small department of middle-class academics. I was the new hire, everyone else had worked there for years, and things were going well. Or so I assumed. I got cool projects, got along well with one of the sales people, and well, my boss was weird but bosses always are.

Three years later. Our parent company wanted to sell us off, everyone was starting to get worried about their job. We tried to expand into things were weren't equipped to do (you don't bring spices into a fruit jam line, will be hell to clean) and while I did the projects, I also raised an (in retrospect) too big stink about the fact that we were wasting time developing things we couldn't produce without expanding. My boss (who I had learned was a devout christian) started to get really weird, I got called in and he wondered if I was a member of a cult (I was often wearing a headscarf at the time because pressure on my head is good for stress relief). I also got told off for wearing army boots to work (we had lab shoes in the lab), because (I kid you not) if we had danish visitors to the lab (we didn't have visitors) they could be offended since they had once been occupied by Nazis. Yes, at the time I was an Antifa metalhead/satanist, it was a very volatile time in sweden and nazis were everywhere. Now they're a political party, go figure.

It all came to a head when I was confronted with a folder one of the secretaries of the department had where she had written down every odd and strange thing that I did, and there were a lot of accusations of things I quite frankly blocked out. Around this time I was suffering from bad burnout, had memory loss, my hair was falling out and I lost two bikes because I forgot where I parked them. All because of workplace hostility.

So for the first time ever, I went to the company doctor, who immediately sent me on a one month sick leave, and gave a reference to a therapist. When I went and told my boss, his reaction was "It can't be anything at work," in a dismissive tone. I wrote my resignation right then and there, left the building, snuck back a Saturday to clean out my stuff so I didn't have to meet anyone. Luckily I was backed up by my union, so I got unemployment despite quitting, and the therapist helped me get back on my feet and hook me up with some antidepressants.

Still, I was a wreck for years.

At the time, I had NO idea I was an Aspie. It weren't talked about, the only thing I knew about Autism, was from the various portrayals in movies, and well, in the nineties you can guess. Rainman pretty much was it.

What destroyed me the most was not that people disliked me, I didn't like them either, we didn't have anything in common, and middle-class people always scared me. No, what broke me was the fact that my system failed.

See, I had built up myself over ten years into someone I wanted to be. Smart. Capable. Metalhead. Researcher. Activist. I thought I knew the rules. How to interact.

It turned out I knew nothing. People had been talking behind my back for years, and I didn't know. Getting annoyed by my ticks, and I had no idea. Nobody ever brought anything up to my face until it exploded one day out of the blue. This is why I have ranted about anons on this tumblr. This is why I have been so openly against passive aggressive posts and bullying, especially the anonymous kind, because it destroys people and I don't think the people who does it knows the impact they can have. I hope they don't.

I have never gone back to the lab. I can't. I'm having heart palpitations just thinking about it when I'm writing this. I retrained. Became a machinist. Back to the working class I came from. Eventually started writing.

And this is exactly what these last months have felt like.

I thought I understood things. I was pretty open with being old, an Aspie, not understanding memes, or humor, or tik tok, or certain aspects of people's behavior like jealousy, but the problem with joking about this is that it's so easy to take as just a joke. That I'm just making fun of myself (oh it's that too). I got advice from some of you, which I ignored, because I thought that I could be different. That there was no danger in getting close. That I could be just another voice in the crowd. An occasionally evil avocado. That this couldn't blow up in my face, that everything was cool.

And then it did. And I was wrong. And the talking started, and things were coming out that I had no idea that was going on. That I was being held responsible for. Opinions that were spoken in my name. Events I was supposed to have been aware of and supported. All of a sudden I was omniscient, aware of the true passive aggressive meaning of every reblog, aware of every post in every room in the discord I wasn't even running. Wasn't even a mod on. All of a sudden I had power, and I had used it to hurt people. The people I cared about. Everything I wrote was taken in the worst possible way, twisted into things I never meant, and the more I tried to talk to people, the worse it went.

Look. I know this was at heart a war between people that just doesn't like each other and the things they do/the ways they behave. I'm still not entirely sure who's been involved, and I'm not interested in finding out. I tried to build a supportive space, reblog everyone's art and fics, encourage people to make their own things, get a kofi, get some money, make some friends.

And herein lies my problem.

I thought I understood how to be, and now I don't. I have no idea who hates my guts and who doesn't (well, except some who has very vocally let me know). I can't trust anything. I can't trust anyone. And it sucks. Someone I trusted stabbed be in the back because they were convinced I stabbed them in the back and that sucks more than I can describe. Every time I make a comment on AO3 or twitter it's after psyching myself up for half an hour, and I'm usually a wreck afterwards, because my brain doesn't know if they hate me too, and if I am imposing on them and making their day bad.

So yeah. I need to figure out how to be. How not to have a nausea attack every time I accidentally click open tumblr from pure reflex, looking away from the screen just not to see how may messages I have.

I never wanted to be the aloof author, but maybe I have to be. The question is if I can. I have been told I can't comment on pics or fics, because then I have favorites. And that makes people jealous. And it makes people think I take sides. I have been told I can't be on the discord, because then I will be held responsible for what the mods do there, and everything that's said even when I'm not around. I should apparently have someone manage the tumblr, it's not something that I, an author should do.

I now understand the authors who just stay away and remain distant, because people give themselves the power to write the narrative for you.

Part of me wants to tell people what I've told my current bosses, don't assume, just talk to me. I don't pick up/do passive aggression, I don't understand hints, I have trouble with nuance, I don't listen to gossip, I don't interact enough to know anything that's going on. Just ask before assuming.

Except that right now I can't. I can't talk about any of this. It's too close. It sets me off. It's getting better, sure, I'm on medication again, but the smallest thing still can ruin my entire day. I have no idea how long it will take me to recover and come back to some semblance of normality. I'm not posting this myself (my partner does). Writing is going well, because it lets me not be myself. I need those walls again. The therapy of writing about pain.

I'll rebuild them. I'm not entirely sure who I'll be on the other end of it. We'll see.

I have consciously not spoken about any details because those could be misunderstood, this is not a passive aggressive callout to anybody. I have no hard feelings towards anyone, I am not angry or upset, just confused and sad. I am truly so very, very, very sorry that I've hurt people, both by action and inaction. It was never my intention. I will do my best to do better in the future.

Still working on how to do that.

#personal

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fluffymisha97 · 4 years

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Why not?

So I wrote this story back to back with another one called “Reasons not to date”. So they might have some similarities and maybe one is better than the other idk.

Summary: Chris wants to date the reader but there’s something holding the reader back.

Warnings: Language

You were slightly pissed off at Chris. He’d gone running his mouth in front of several of your mutual friends practically telling them that he wanted to date you; to call you his girlfriend. Not that you had been asked about this little arrangement. Well that was a lie. Chris had asked you out 4 four times throughout out your friendship. You’d known him for years now and really cared for the guy…as a friend… mostly.

Chris didn’t see anything wrong with what he’d said earlier. He had been raised to always tell the truth. You however were still mad at him for embarrassing the both of you. He probably didn’t feel the slightest bit affected. You tried to keep your head cool as he drove you home.

“Come on, Y/N. You can be mad at me for telling the truth and standing by my feelings.”

He flashed you a smile. That smile could make any woman weak in the knees…BUT no. You had to stay strong, cool, and collected. You’d to ignore him and his ridiculous ideas about things that could never happen. Because the whole this was just absurd.

“Chris, what you told the others tonight was just too funny you know. The part about you wanting to go out with me, that had me cracking up.”

You began laughing hysterically trying to get him to see how foolish this seemed. His smile faded for a second before appearing once again.

“Well that wasn’t a joke sweet Y/N. I’m very serious about this and…”

“There’s also something called obsessing and as a woman I feel compelled to tell you that it’s not attractive look on anyone, not even you.”

That was a lie. That man was always attractive and he had found a way to ruin it for any other man. Not that Chris knew this or anything.

“Hey, be honest with me and this is for real. Why don’t you want to give this a chance? You know it as much as I do. That we just ‘click’ on some many levels. We have the same taste in music, movies, literature, food and so much more. It’s quite compelling evidence if I should say so myself.”

“Chris you’re forgetting a lot of things while what you’re saying sounds great and all. It’s not all there’s to it. So, can we please drop it.”

Chris looked deep in a thought and you leaned your head against the car window thinking he’d let it go. And he did for a while. As you got closer to your rented apartment, you felt uneasy about Chris who had been quiet for 30 minutes. He was not the kind of person who stayed silent for that long. It felt as if a storm was brewing.

You walked to the front door while Chris was hot on your heels. As you unlocked the door and was about to turn around to say goodnight. Chris started to talk, and you quickly covered his mouth. You did a little head shake as he looked confused.

“Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Thank you for driving me home tonight. We’ll talk later, okay.”

You leaned up on your toes to embrace him in a short hug. His hugs were always so comforting without him even doing anything. He reluctantly let go of you and watched you go inside. He too felt uneasy about how the night had turned out. But nevertheless, he got back in the car and drove off to go home. But after driving for 20 minutes or so, he found your words haunting him. He wanted to know why it seemed impossible for you two to get together. It may have been desperate, but Chris didn’t care or gave anymore thoughts as he turned the car back around.

You’d gone to bed with a night cap and were watching some bad tv-show when you heard knocking on the door. You looked down at your watch and it was almost midnight.

As you waddled downstairs to see who was coming over a such a late hour. As you opened the door, you came face to face with a nervous and jumpy looking Chris. A few sweat drops coated his forehead. He walked straight past you and came to sit on one of your kitchen chairs while waiting for you patiently.

“Chris, what’re you doing here?”

Suddenly Chris was having second thoughts about coming back to you.

“Y/N, I swear on my ma’s life that if you just answer me this, I’ll never bring it up again.”

You stood in front of him waiting for him to continue.

“Is it really just me who feel something whenever we get together? Just a tiny spark even or do I repulse you?”

“Chris, it doesn’t matter if I feel something or not. It can’t happen what you’re asking for.”

You spoke in a calm and cool manner. You stood with your arms crossed and hoped your body wouldn’t betray you.

“The hell it matters… If it’s mutual then that is more than enough reason to explore the possibilities…”

“NO, Chris.”

Chris shook his head feeling the frustration arise as he slammed his hand down on the table making you jump.

“Christ! Why not, Y/N?”

“Because you mean too goddamn much to me. I don’t want to risk losing you, okay! I’m afraid of what’s going to happen if we go down the road together. There’s your truth. I’m not willing to risk our friendship for the ‘maybe, possible chances’ of us being a couple. It’s too risky. I can’t afford to lose you.”

Chris let your words sink in as you stood in front of him, chest heaving and eyes becoming glossier. Your lips trembled for a bit.

“You’re one of my best friends. You’ve always been there for me and what we have is something else. Why can’t you understand that? That I want to protect what we have.”

You turned away from Chris wanting to hide the tears that fell. Chris rose from his seat and walked over to you and put his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Chris felt like an idiot for pushing you. He also felt shitty for not trying to see things from your perspective. He’d been so caught up in his own world which he saw clearly now but it still didn’t ease the ache in his heart. The feelings were still there, and he couldn’t turn those off just like that.

After a while you moved to sit on the couch. No one said anything as you looked at the black tv-screen. Chris gently grasped your hand and held it tightly.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. And I should’ve tried to see things from your point of view. It was really shitty of me.”

He sounded sincere and really apologetic about it. And you believed him because you could always tell when he was lying.

“This is just so scary Chris. I haven’t felt like this for so long and it’s not supposed to happen not with you…Yes, I have feelings too but what if this goes to shit? I don’t know if I can bear the thought of you not being in my life.”

“Y/N, you don’t know what the future might bring. No one does, but we do know what we’re both feeling. Maybe this will end up amazing and maybe…not.”

“So, you’re willing to risk everything for a big ‘if’?”

“I guess, I’m not willing to not do anything about this. Not knowing that maybe I’m missing out on the best thing. But life is about taking risks you know. And say we do this, and it ends in crap. You have my permission to screw me up really bad.”

He was right in some ways and the also scared you. But it was the feeling for him and his feelings for you, that scared you the most. It seemed surreal in many ways. And after tonight this would change one way or the other.

You agreed to take things very slow and see what happened. He was right no one knew what tomorrow would bring you. You felt anxious about it but whenever you looked a Chris you felt yourself calm down again.

So you ended up taking one of the biggest risks in your life and this day today you couldn’t imagine having chosen differently. Because it was worth it.

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you

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oneweekoneband · 3 years

Photo

In the first cold hours of a new December morning, Taylor Swift once again revealed herself to be the primary antagonist in my hero’s journey. Weary and woebegone as I am, I will not waste strength on any attempt to deny that this latest attack has knocked me off balance, but I believe it is important that I—we, really, the lot of us who have been bloodied pitiably beneath this most brutal show of force—rebound immediately into a defensive posture so that there might be any hope at all for survival. Taylor’s second pandemic album will be released at midnight tonight, so I guess Shakespeare and his little “play” about elder abuse can get fucked after all. The album is called evermore. It was hubris, I can see in retrospect, which led me to tempt my enemy by writing all these words about her on this, the week of her birthday, knowing as I do that Taylor is one of those especially dangerous adults who make a big deal about both birthdays and lucky numbers. Icarus is my name now, covered in melted wax and tumbling to the sea. So as to steel ourselves for these horrors yet to come, I offer now, with not arrogance but the faith of the foolhardy, my best conjecture as to the content of each detestable track.

willow - Could be about a tree. Could be about a girl. More likely it is both somehow, which is extremely pervy, and not just because that’s part of the plot of the unspeakably cursed The Raven Cycle novels, which I, a full blown adult with, generally speaking, normal brain function, voluntarily read for the first time this summer because some of us, ma’am, used the pandemic for activities that hurt only ourselves, not others. Well, happy holidays, tree fuckers.

champagne problems - Whatever this is, know that I will be considering it a work after Fall Out Boy’s “Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends” and I’ll be right to do so and many people will say as much admiringly and they’ll smile at me with pride and doff their caps as I go.

gold rush - If this song is anything but a loving, comprehensive summation of the children’s novel DEAR AMERICA Seeds of Hope: The Gold Rush Diary of Susanna Fairchild then I’m going to walk directly out of my home and, deadly virus be damned, keep walking until I’ve entered Taylor Swift’s instead, at which point I will begin to scream out a litany of complaints at the very top of my voice, ceasing only when her security team kills me or we fall in love.

tis the damn season - Worst case scenario this is a sad Christmas song (the best kind of Christmas song) and it devastates me in the most degrading way possible. Best case scenario it’s really bad and dumb and I can live without pain.

tolerate it - Many possibilities here. Could be about white-knuckling it through a period of depression, or a breakup. Most obviously, it could be about COVID-19 lockdowns keeping us trapped in our homes, disconnected from loved ones, going slow-brained and strange, bowls piling up, and suddenly so desperate for human interaction that even memories of having drinks with somebody from Hinge who quoted Friends twice in an hour are tantalizing in comparison to the touch-starved dreamstate of staying indoors... But I kinda feel like this is Taylor replying “COPE” from on high to my tweets about how I would rather be boiled alive than have to face the existence of this record.

no body, no crime (feat. Haim) - What would be very good is if this is a homosexual romp about Taylor Swift and the one hot Haim guitar girl with the really gay energy doing a murder together a la “Somethin’ Bad” by Miranda Lambert with Carrie Underwood, but honestly, it is probably another song about Gone Girl.

happiness - Impossible to speak on this since, thanks to Taylor Swift, happiness is something with which I have no familiarity.

dorothea - Have seen chirping on the odious bird application about how perhaps this song title suggests that Taylor has written a song about Middlemarch, titling it for Dorothea Brooke, but I reject this because it implies that Taylor has read Middlemarch, which is a premise I cannot accept. Whether this refusal is out of self-preservation, being unwilling and in fact unable to face a world where Taylor Swift read and was moved to creation by the novel which was my most essential friend the summer I got dumped by a guy who I still had to work feet away from in a candle factory for another month, and about which Emily Dickinson (Emily Dickinson whose birthday it happens to be today, which isn’t to say that this means anything about anything. I am simply trying to batten down all hatches literally and spiritually in light of having been had once again by this numerology obsessed demon) once wrote "What do I think of Middlemarch? What do I think of glory.” or because I just at my core do not believe that Taylor has read a single book since Gone Girl I couldn’t possibly say.

coney island (feat. The National) : Some ungodly americana ass bullshit that is going to ruin my life. The thought of holy terror shaped like a horse girl Taylor Swift and trickster nymph in the body of a tax accountant Matt Berninger, two individuals I have allowed, separately, to cause me grievous psychic harm, having even the barest amount of one to one contact, even digitally, has made me want to peel all my skin off and put it back on flipped inside out so that I might, when I look in the mirror, see a version of myself which approximates how I feel.

ivy - Another song for the plant lesbians. That’s fine, and I’m happy for that community, but what I want to know, looking at this growing pile of songs named after women, is where, Taylor, is the song about loudmouth queen Inez, legendary gossip and, for my money, the star of folklore?

cowboy like me - Putting it as mildly as humanly possible, to slit my throat would be less cruel. I am drawing a straight line from me writing illegible sequels to perfect film An American Tail: Fievel Goes West (itself a sequel) in crayon as a toddler, to Paula Cole’s “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?” on the radio in my mom’s two door Honda, to me everyday after school in third grade changing into the cowboy costume my godmother bought, to me at fourteen internalizing a sense of righteous indignation that would take years to even begin to outgrow when Crash beat Brokeback Mountain for Best Picture, to the winter I dropped half my classes out of fear and sickness and read paperback westerns on the twenty third floor of the college library for tens of hours at a go, to the profoundly gay episode of Supernatural called “Tombstone” which is, yes, named for the profoundly gay cowboy film Tombstone, to the inspired and revitalizing pause in “Space Cowboy” by Kacey Musgraves where she’s like, “You can have your space........ cowboy”, to Mitski’s Be the Cowboy, to the perfect boygenius cover of certified classic “Cowboy Take Me Away”, to whatever the hell this is going to be.That line is not to make a point at all. It’s just that there is a line and beside it there is me, incapacitated.

long story short - Just like all the other times anyone has ever invoked this phrase in the entire history of human beings expressing themselves with language, it is going to be a huge lie, because this woman never shuts up.

marjorie - After all that Taylor has put me through over the years, she should have at least named one of these wretched things “ellen” after my dead Sagittarian grandmother, whose birthday is tomorrow, December 11th, which is again, the release date of Taylor Swift’s second album in sixth months, but it’s probably for the best that she didn’t because you simpletons would immediately think it was an homage to George Bush’s friend Dory the fish, and therefore gay, regardless of the actual text of the song, and it’d be the “betty” massacre all over again. That being said, this is almost assuredly another horny song about some mid-century white lady. Only days ago Taylor was telling Entertainment Weekly that she’s been watching a lot of movies in quarantine, and while she didn’t name 1958’s Marjorie Morningstar starring Natalie Wood, I wouldn’t put it past her.

closure - God, I hope this one is another Kaylor classic so we can all act like complete raving lunatics online from the confines of our own plague quarters for a few days. It’s been a hard year.

evermore (feat. Bon Iver) - I’ll be catatonic by this point. Who cares?

right where you left me - Yes, in hell.

it’s time to go - Yes, TO HELL.

#taylor swift #folklore

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

limits of desire⤳t.h.||epilogue

Epilogue: Wallking down an aisle.

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the wedding and the magazine article

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: hmm an article, swearing, julia roberts, fluff :)

word count: 5.K

previous chapter series masterlist Here’s my new story! Perfidy (enemies to lovers) a one shot after this: Tom’s proposal

Anyway, thanks for sticking up to this story, for giving it a chance and for the support. I’m super sad it’s ending but I’m glad you guys stuck asdlas love you.

Your wedding day, according to movies and books, is the best day of your life. The bride is blushing and glowing and everything goes perfect. But, that is usually not the case, not in real life, at least. Because you’ll see shoes flying and people screaming and running around a room. People rushing in with the bride and calling the groom.

Lizzie was staring at the clock in her phone, she was calling everyone, y/n was nowhere to be found and she needed her friend. There were a lot of things to do, and y/n had promised to be there at 7 am sharp.

It was a good thing Lizzie had not made a mistake in choosing Mexico as the location, knowing it meant a lot of drama involved with y/n, but there could’ve been a reason behind it. Where things had ended for y/n happened to be the place where it had started for Lizzie.

Lizzie was, in all matters, freaking out. Her mother and sisters were overwhelming her with questions and picking her hair and running around her room. But none of them mattered, she needed her very best friend. But she thought that maybe y/n wasn’t feeling her best. Lizzie thought about this, was y/n having a breakdown over this?

She thought that maybe y/n wasn’t exactly fine with weddings. Sure, she’d been writing about this for a while now, but it wasn’t the same writing about it than living on it.

But this was Lizzie’s big day, she couldn’t possibly be bothered by it, should she? But she wanted her best friend to be along with her.

Lizzie was getting married.

It was 8 am, where the hell was she? That’s all Lizzie could think about. And she wasn’t the only one who was late, Hannah and Jess were late too. Great friends Lizzie had.

But Lizzie, she hadn’t told anyone, was having second thoughts. She was too nervous for this. Because the stylist wasn’t there yet, her bridesmaids’ dresses had arrived in a different colour, red, not pink. Red. And because the venue had called her wedding planner and told her there had been an issue with the salmon and now they were serving chicken.

Everything was going bollocks.

Lizzie was having an attack, but it seemed like her prayers had come true because Hannah and Jess had walked in, with their dresses in their hands and makeup bags.

“I’m sorry we’re late!” Hannah said. “Y/N’s new article was published!” Hannah waved the magazine in her hand.

Lizzie blinked and frowned. “What?”

Jess nudged Hannah. “Sorry, no, that’s not why we’re late. We went to pick up the dresses”

Hannah widened her eyes and left the magazine on the bed.

“Where the hell is y/n?” Asked Lizzie. “I can’t seem to reach her, it sends me to fucking voicemail!”

Jess and Hannah side-eyed each other.

“Didn’t you see her insta story?” Hannah asked and Jess nudged her again.

“What? No! I’ve been kinda busy! Where the hell is she?” Asked Lizzie. “Gosh I need her, she’ll be able to calm me down! Did she… Did she run away? Some shit like that?”

“No! No, but last night-” Hannah started

“Shut up!” Jess glared at Hannah. “She’ll be here, don’t worry,” Jess assured her. “She went to look for another stylist because we were told Jamie hadn’t arrived yet.”

Lizzie stood up. “Alright.” They all watched her. “Alright.” Lizzie took a deep breath. “I can’t do this.”

“What?” Lizzie’s mother questioned.

“Call Harrison, I can’t do this.”

“No, no,” Hannah walked over as Lizzie’s sisters were also trying to calm her down.

“It’s okay, Lizzie, you’re just stressed out, it’ll be okay,” Jess started.

“Everyone, please just leave, I need a moment to myself,” Lizzie explained.

“C’mon, Liz!” Hannah insisted.

The wedding planner stepped in. “No, no, she’s right, give her some time, everyone out,” she ordered and the room that was once full of bustle was now too quiet.

Lizzie plopped on her bed, and snuggled into her white rob and then stared at the dress. Was she able to do this?

She felt butterflies and knives at the same time. She was unsafe. She needed to talk to y/n, who had been there all along. Y/N had been the perfect maid of honour, even if Lizzie had initially been reluctant after complaining about Y/N choosing Tom over her on her first wedding.

Lizzie knew hadn’t really talked about how it felt to be about to get married, partly, Lizzie knew, it had to do a little bit with the fact that y/n wanted to marry her maid of honour instead. It came with the territory.

But Lizzie was having second thoughts because she did want to get married but it seemed like the universe was telling her not to. The salmon? The stylist? It had to mean something. Because she had planned this wedding perfectly. If there was something going wrong, it meant her marriage was going to go wrong, right?

She tried ringing her friend again and it sent straight to voicemail. She went on Instagram to see if Y/N’s story could solve anything. There was no new Instagram story, not for her close friends, and no new one. Had y/n blocked her? Was y/n having a crisis due to the wedding?

Maybe asking y/n to be her maid of honour hadn’t been the best idea, after all y/n used to call herself the runaway bride and Lizzie was sure that Y/N probably didn’t want to do anything else with weddings. Even if she wrote a wedding column in a magazine.

She knew that today was supposedly a very important day for y/n’s column on the magazine, apparently, y/n was now going to be promoted as to one of the usuals and not only a dumb column. An editor, maybe? Lizzie didn’t know, her head had been too busy planning a wedding that she hadn’t really paid attention to her best friend.

She stared at the magazine that Hannah had left there, lying on top of the white blanket. Lizzie frowned, did she have to read her best friend’s column?

She sighed, she did. It was the closest thing to having her best friend beside her. She opened the magazine to a beautiful shot of her best friend wearing a wedding dress with running shoes, surrounded by some DVDs and cassettes of old Julia Roberts’ movies.

The Runaway Bride, the title was in a big, elegant pink font. It wasn’t like her usual columns, small and with barely a page of it. This was a long article. Lizzie smiled, proud of y/n and then proceeded to read it.

Tom knew that Haz himself had had his doubts too if he was honest to himself. Harrison was freaking out and he knew that there was a big chance that Lizzie had wanted to back up. Tom had been the one to calm him down.

“It’s gonna be okay!”

“What do you know?” Haz had snapped. “First, thanks for being bloody late. Why were you late?”

Tom cleared his throat. “There was a problem with your bride’s stylist and I helped y/n to find a new one.”

“Because they have to do everything together now, remember?” Sam teased, making Tuwaine and Harry giggle.

“Shut up,” Tom blushed but then coughed away his embarrassment.

“And why did you leave early yesterday?” Haz questioned.

Tuwaine and the twins widened their eyes, Tom hadn’t told him yet.

“Uh, I had… a stomach ache,” Tom lied. “No, but Haz, calm down. It’s gonna turn out smoothly.”

“You’re one to talk! You ruined one wedding man, what if some ex of her decides to fucking show up and bloody tell her he loves her?”

“In that case,” Harry laughed. “Y/N would walk in and ruin the wedding, she’s the maid of honour.”

“You’re not helping, dickhead,” Tom told his brother off. “Haz, look, you have to calm down, everything will be alright. This is great, she loves you, alright? And I barely doubt anyone would come back for Lizzie, no, no no, I’m joking, I’m joking.”

Harrison rolled his eyes.

“Look, that stuff doesn’t usually happen, that one time happened because the bride was marrying someone who she didn’t love, and Lizzie loves you, right?” Tom pushed.

“Right, right, but fuck, I’m so bloody nervous!” Haz had his tie around his neck and he was trying to get it right.

“Calm down, dumbass,” Tom laughed as he helped Harrison with his tie. “Everything will be alright.”

“Yeah man, it’ll be okay.”

“I mean, you are marrying Lizzie, not sure how that’s gonna go but,” Tom teased, earning Haz’s middle finger. “I’m joking,” he laughed. “C’mon, c’mon.”

“Dude, everything has gone wrong,” Haz explained. “Something about the salmon and the dresses! And gosh, we’ve been planning this wedding for months and things are tearing up.”

Tom bit his lip. “Okay, I know, I know… I make everything about y/n but.”

“Oh god, don’t start,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Look,” Tom ran to his bag and took out a magazine. “Maybe… read this, maybe it’ll help you.”

“How in the bloody hell is reading a fashion magazine going to help me?” Haz questioned.

“Read it.”

And so the bride and the groom were synchronized, reading a fashion magazine.

The Runaway Bride.

By Y/N Y/L/N

I guess by now, you’ve been reading me for a while, and the world, I hope, has forgotten who I initially was. Maybe you know me as the girl who’s been giving you advice on wedding dresses, on venues and on cakes.

That’s not who I was before all of this. Maybe you knew about my name before I started writing that column here.

After the world took a turn on me, I decided to instead turn it around for me. Maybe the person who was meant to read this will actually read this and clear her doubts, I know you have them. Maybe you’ll smile. Maybe you won’t. Maybe this is my way of clearing your doubts, after all, I am your friend.

There’s not much I can say about me, my name is Y/N, I am an invisible journalist who initially wanted to talk about everyone and everything else and now I’m here writing about myself. I can’t say much about me, I guess. I like my tea with lemon and honey, and I also like it with sugar and cream. Depends on my mood, but I usually prefer iced coffee or a pink mimosa. I love poetry, and I wish I could share a dessert with someone right now,

I am a girl with layers. I do have a story, though.

When I was young I remembered watching all Julia Roberts movies and aspiring to be like her. Don’t tell my mum, but I watched Pretty Woman at a very young age, even if I didn’t quite understand it if I’m honest. But I remember standing up and digging into my mum’s closet to wear some heels, a white coat and a hat to walk down her room to the beat of that infamous song, after that amazing scene.

“Big Mistake, Huge!” I would yell at the same time as Julia. It was a Cinderella for grown-ups type of story. I didn’t quite understand what Vivian's job was, but I understood that she had to kiss Richard Gere and I was fine with that.

I want that to be my job if I’m honest. Can you blame me?

Anyone who knows me, knows I love all Julia Roberts’ movies. Little would I know how much like Julia Roberts’ films my life would turn out to be?

I would like to pride myself on that I’ll become a successful writer like she was on Eat, pray, love.

However, my dream didn’t quite exactly come as I had planned it. Be careful of what you wish, I guess. So far I haven’t found myself moving to Italy to understand the power and pleasure of nourishment, neither have I gone to India to pray and so far I haven’t gone to Indonesia to find my true love.

I did go to Mexico however, and found pleasure in their food. I have gone to my mother’s house and she’s made me pray, and I’ve been to London, and honestly I think this city is truly the love of my life.

Maybe I’m lying. I have met true love, but I guess it’s not the time to talk about it. We will move on to that later.

But I guess I can’t really write a memoir on that, or should I? However, I guess I’ll have to tell my side of the story, don’t you think?

My life did turn into a Julia Roberts’ movie. Not in the ones I thought

It started with a dress, as red as Julia’s in Pretty Woman, a dress and someone helping me with a necklace. I guess by now, my name rings some stories and even though the stories are inverted, and I really feel like I shouldn’t be writing this, this was an open spot for me to speak my mind, to crawl out of my little corner where I liked to be invisible. In my constant pursuit of Julia Roberts’ life, I found myself in a very weird predicament.

I would love to think about it like that scene where he placed that gorgeous necklace around her bare neck, and it kind of stuck. Though, that scene led to a round of unfortunate events.

I fell in love, and though it doesn’t sound as a tragedy, it certainly involved into one, because I fell in love and then proceeded to get engaged… with another man.

It all continued, if I think about it, as “My Best Friend’s Wedding.” Though it sounds cheesy and different. And in no way was my ex-fiancée as Cameron Diaz. At least I don’t want to think that, I didn’t like Cameron in that movie, and I very much liked my ex-fiancé, too much for my own convenience. It’s not a sin, and I hope he’s doing amazing. I still love him.

I’m afraid I didn’t play Julia Roberts’ in that part. My best friend did, however, and I happened to be very in love with my best friend. Note to whoever is reading this: if you happen to be in love with your best friend, don’t make them your maid of honor.

Or do, and do yourself a favor, don’t let it be too late. If you love someone, tell them. If you love someone, don’t get engaged to someone else.

I guess that gives context to me.

If you were to take a few minutes to google me, I know my name is dragged with headlines which are not so pleasant to read. But hopefully, now I can be seen besides the many articles I’ve written. But a few months ago, I was painted as the bad one.

So, instead of rolling along, I decided, instead, to rename myself as yet another one of Julia’s characters. After all, that’s all I wanted to be.

“The Runaway Bride.” Sounds catchy.

Have control of my own life for once.

Because I did run away. And even if I think I should be giving no explanation to the world, I guess maybe I could use this chance to guide another person who lost herself along the way, too. Maybe you’ll find yourself reading this and understanding my words. You’re probably wondering why a runaway bride has been giving you advice on how to choose your jewels, or how to get your face prepped for your big day. Seems like a hypocrite, but I feel like someone who still believes in weddings even after running away from one, has something to say.

I’ve always been the perfect daughter, I’ve tried to, at least. I had perfect grades, got home early and didn’t cause much trouble. That was until I graduated, for sure. I’ve always done what everyone told me to do and I followed the path everyone expected me to follow.

My biggest sin has been falling in love with terrible timing, I’ve loved when I didn’t have to and I didn’t when I had to.

Timing really, that’s my biggest sin.

Most of my life I’ve known when to say no, and when to say yes. But it came to a point when saying those words would change me.

Both words have betrayed me and I am not proud of it. The first time it betrayed me was when someone got down on one knee, and even though I knew in my heart there was an indecisive voice inside, a yes came clear through my mouth.

Don’t get me wrong, at the time, I did mean it. Who would’ve thought that a simple word gave me such a nightmare?

I know, I know, why are they including me in the wedding section if I ran away from my own wedding? It sounds ironic, I was even skeptical when they asked me to.

Because even if it’s late to admit it, I may have not yet married anyone as of right now when I’m writing this, maybe someday it’ll be different. But I do know what love feels like. And I know what it doesn’t feel like.

And maybe you’ve read the articles and realized it, every advice I give you relies on something: It won’t matter in the end, because you’ll see them as you walk down the aisle, and everything will turn to be better.

Because saying “yes” should never bring in guilt. Probably, like most people, if you said yes, then you were sure of it and I truly hope you didn’t say “yes” just for the reason I now know I did. You shouldn’t say yes because you want to be loved, you should say yes because you want to love.

I’m a monster, I know. But I’ve learned a thing or two.

Someone once told me to picture my wedding. And I know, most of us have planned it since our childhood, some have pictured it perfectly, from the flowers to the band, some just know they want a big cake, or some only have been hovering through Pinterest boards. That’s alright.

But when the moment comes, it won’t matter. In the end, you won’t remember if the cutlery was gold or silver.

When you’re planning a wedding you see yourself through the different stages, there is a checklist that should be ticked, and time will rush to it. Everyone rushes you into thinking it should be perfect.

I even had a checklist and I would try to tick off every single box of it because it had to be perfect. But looking at it now, each and every one of those led to the disaster of me turning into Julia Roberts’ character and running the heck out of my wedding.

Because I gave myself such little time to understand that what I wanted was to be with someone else, and I shouldn’t have invited that said person to the wedding.

Let me tell you something, I had always wanted a certain wedding, I knew the theme, I wanted the flowers, the perfect venue. And I fell in love with an amazing wedding dress, everything was planned.

But someone told me that, in the end, it wouldn’t matter, because let me tell you something, I am very sure that when the right person comes, it won’t.

And they told me that what could go wrong would go wrong, but it wouldn’t matter as long as the love of my life was at the end of the aisle.

In my case, it did, everything went wrong. The flowers had been changed, the day before they’d told me the menu we had chosen was changed, too. My hair looked awful, I was not wearing the white dress I had chosen, and it wouldn’t have mattered. But it did, because my whole wedding was meant to be a disaster. Because they were small details, and they shouldn’t have mattered.

And trust me, at a point they didn’t.

I was walking down the aisle to commit the biggest mistake of my life. And if the love of my life hadn’t interrupted my wedding, I would have become Julia Roberts on Eat Pray Love. A sad wife.

But I knew that had it been the one who interrupted the wedding the one I was getting married to, it wouldn’t have mattered, I could’ve had paper rings, I could’ve had the ugliest of flowers, or no flowers at all, and I wouldn’t have cared, because he would’ve been at the end of the aisle.

Because that’s love. And right now as I turn around to the love of my life who is listening to his music and drinking a beer, I know it. I don’t need a checklist, I could marry him right now, wearing our pj’s and using ring pops. Yes, the actual candy. Because what matters is I want to spend the rest of my life with him, discovering his good and bad sides.

But to know this, I had to run away. And I’m not telling you to run away. But sometimes we have to be away from someone to realize they’re a part of us. Maybe you took the time to google me, or maybe you didn’t so I’ll give you a quick summary.

My best friend, and love fo my life stopped my wedding, I rejected him and then I ran away from the altar.

And maybe, you’re thinking, why not go with the love of your life?

Because I wasn’t ready. And I realized that one doesn’t have to choose. One shouldn’t have to choose.

So I chose myself. And saying goodbye to the love of my life wasn’t easy, you know?

It’s delicate, and my reputation could jeopardize his. That’s love you know? Knowing that sometimes you have to choose yourself and that sometimes you should make decisions so you don’t hurt them. But at some point you have to look up.

And I can’t stress this enough, if you don’t know yourself and you don’t know what you want, you can’t expect your significant other to know it, either.

But before I ran away, I had to make it clear that I wanted to come back to him. Which brings me to the next Julia Roberts movie, which is kind of stupid, I know. Notting Hill, then again, I wasn’t Julia in the situation. I gave away all my secrets, from someone who never liked to speak up, I had to.

Yes, like Hugh Grant did, I crashed a press conference and I confessed my love to him. Then we went our separate ways. At that point, I just saw how the whole world turned gray.

I thought to myself: ‘Is it too stupid? Maybe I regret it.’ And I just thought about it, an address I don’t want to remember, a city far away from home. A hotel that perfectly mirrors it. A time when saying no meant keeping secrets. And honestly, right now, I don’t mind having no secrets anymore, I am waiting to give them all away, when he’s ready, when I’m ready. Because now there are no limits I can think of.

And I changed, from wanting the perfect wedding, with every single detail the way I wanted it to, to the wedding that could be held in his living room. From wanting 300 hundred guests to being the two of us.

So here’s my advice to you, whoever you may be. Find a story, dream of something. Don’t get a boring life, go and try to find someone who’d understand you’d have to choose yourself first. Fall in love with yourself first and the wedding will follow along, and love, love without any inconvenience. Don’t be afraid to love, don’t hide away, don’t try to keep all your secrets. And make that checklist, and then do it for yourself, set your date, when you’re ready. Make that guest list so you have everyone you care and love, get the perfect place, the perfect food, and plan the most fun of the honeymoons.

But before anything else, find yourself and let the person you’re marrying find you, delicately, like a poem, let them read you. Because when you do this, when both of you choose yourselves and each other, nothing else matters, it’s just the strawberries decorating the care. And everything will turn out to be easy, even if love isn’t, the path will be opened and the limits of desire will finally go away.

And when you love someone, you’ll realize it, paper rings are enough. Because when your love is so strong, it won’t matter if they changed the cake, or if your bridesmaids’ dresses weren’t the colour you asked.

Maybe I don’t have the best experience, maybe my advice sucks, but I hope we can get along this journey. And I’ll be joining you in your path, help you out to stay away from the path of becoming the runaway bride like me. Helping you along the way to understand what love should feel like, helping you out to stay away from the mistakes I made. Helping you choose yourself so you can be ready to walk down an aisle. Helping you out to be the Julia Roberts you choose to be, not the one the world made you. Maybe I’ll find myself along the way, too, and maybe I’ll be ready to do it, too.

I know that by the time this comes out, I’ll be helping my friend with her wedding dress, and I know that she’ll be the happiest she could be. And with all my heart, I wish her the perfect wedding, paper or gold rings, I know she’s walking down an aisle to the love of her life. And I couldn’t be happier for her.

We’ll see how this goes.

Yours, truly,

The Runaway Bride

---

Being at the end of the aisle gives you a perspective. Maybe Tom was not the one who was at the actual end, but it felt weird. Especially considering what had happened just the night before, a secret he had to yet keep to himself.

He knew Harrison was sweating. And he knew that probably Harrison would feel even more butterflies than Tom, but the music started to play, the moment had come in, everyone turned around to look at how the bridesmaids were walking down the aisle led by y/n, Tom lost it. It felt good, it felt like magic. And the moment his eyes met hers he knew that he’d never regret the decision he’d made. And she looked at him like she was feeling the same thing, as if time had stopped for her as well, as if the music was for them and only them. As if she was whispering their secret, and he looked down at her hand, and smiled.

He saw the red dress, and he knew that for once, he’d chosen the right girl, who was wearing the wrong dress. And Tom had to stop himself, even if he desired to kiss her, he knew he’d have to stop. But she walked to the end of the aisle and was across from him.

Then, everything stopped as the bride was walking in, she looked perfect, with the veil cascading down and her eyes as bright as they could be. But Tom couldn’t look at her, he was too busy admiring y/n. And maybe it was a coincidence but she turned around and locked eyes with him, and he could see how she ran out of breath as she dedicated a smile to him, one that was made for him and only him. He felt his heart stop because they were speaking with their eyes, and he knew what she meant. He felt it too. And everyone was focusing on the bride but they could only look at each other, maybe it was selfish, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe the love around them was inspiring them.

‘I love you,’ they had mouthed to each other.

And Tom knew it, that their little secret was just a secret. Because this wasn’t their day, and they didn’t mind it wasn’t. But he knew that even if nobody had noticed the ring on y/n’s hand, it could’ve been made out of paper, and that if they had to set the date, they’d do,it the very next date, with only them as the guests and barely any theme. They didn’t need any flowers or any fancy venue, they didn’t need to mail the save the dates or hire a vendor. They could marry in their underwear, and they didn’t need to book a honeymoon and she needed no bridal shower, and the menu could be a chocolate cake and a strawberry cheesecake. Her something new could be a mere bracelet, and her something borrowed, old and blue could be a blue shirt of his. Their bridesmaids and the best man could be some random toys. But it wouldn’t matter, because they’d be tying the knot, and it wouldn’t matter because their vows would be perfect, and she’d finally say I do. And that was the only thing that mattered, that they’d be together.

Because that night, while they were dancing, Tom had chosen the right red dress. Because love is easy when the right person comes. Yes, they had their loads of difficulties, but it seemed that whenever they were together, everything just stopped, everything else was ordinary, everything was easy. They made mistakes, but everybody does.

Maybe Tom was not that prince charming to arrive on a white horse, and maybe y/n was not a princess either. Maybe they’ve been wrong this whole time, but they don’t want to hide anymore, because Tom may have tried to get in bed with the wrong girl years ago, but she turned out to be the right one. And y/n used to think that Tom had eyes for everyone for her, but whenever she was in the room, everything else disappeared. And yes, they had to run away to realize they’d run back into each other. Because maybe they’ve crossed the limits of desire, but maybe, they should’ve always been crossed.

The end.

aldsajkd it’s done bye i’m sad it’s over bye

previous chapter series masterlist Here’s my new story! Perfidy (enemies to lovers) one shot: Tom’s proposal

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

Text

Horror Villains / Misc x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: You accidentally summon Beetlejuice because he convinced you that he could help you with your Slasher problem, but he becomes an even worse problem. So, you need your Slasher to help you exterminate him, instead.

Includes: Chucky / Charles Lee Ray and Freddy Krueger

Warnings: It’s got nasty gremlin man in it (Meaning, gross language, dirty jokes and such), and also Slashers (Meaning, gore, swearing, course and suggestive language). Groping (Himself)

Notes:

Okay, those of you who were with me at MainstreamBaddies; You remember that post I wrote about some rando killer trying to get the reader, so reader goes to the Slasher that’s also trying to kill them for help?

Well this is basically that but with (Movie) Beetlejuice as the rando.

THERE WAS MEANT TO BE MORE CHARACTERS!! But its late and I wanna slep ^^ Hopefully I’ll do Ghostface and Jason tomorrow!

~~~

THE START / ‘Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice’

“So… “Worrying my bottom lip, I look from the wall where I can think properly to the small, ‘fun size’ version of ‘Beetlejuice’ who’s looking expectantly at me. Excited even.

Although I guess that’s a given. If I was that small and had the possibility sitting right in front of me, of growing back to full size, and full power again, I’d be jazzed too. But, still, there’s something very off about this guy, and it isn’t just the fact that he’s the size of maybe 2 thumbs snapped off at the knuckle and taped one on top of the other. He’s very enthusiastic.

In a Gollum-Swamp Monster-Chick Hicks kind of way.

“’So’, what? I don’t have all day baaaaaay – well, I do have all day. I got nowhere to be – not many fun joints for a guy to go to at this size, amiright? Yeah, but, that’s not the point! Do you wanna get rida’ your lil’ problem or not? Eh?” Beetlejuice is practically vibrating, like an alarm clock and I have the most impulsive urge to call his name three times just to stop it.

Luckily, I have impulse control.

“Of course, I do. I… “Eyeing him pointedly, I start wringing my hands. “I just don’t want to create a new problem, in its place.”

He rolls his dark, feral racoon-panda eyes, muttering something lightning quick to himself before throwing out his arms and yelling. “BABE! I promise ya, really, sweetheart. Baby-lemon pie-dumpling-doll-dollar-sugar-tea, I’m just gonna fix your problem! All I want in the world right now is t’ cum-plete our deal! Get rida’ your Slasher, and be on my way! Unless theirs somethin’ else you ask of me, eh? When I’m back to my normal size? You know, I’m big in all the right places sugar tit- “

I took a deep, necessary breath in when he started on the ‘something else’ and now have the required breath to drown out the last words. “Oooookay!! I wont need that.” I say quickly, as a statement. He licks his lips. “But, um… Are you sure you can get rid of them?” ‘Them’. The bane of my existence right now. The co-star in the horror movie of my life. That them.

“Trust me, babe-sickle. It’ll be sinch.” For a moment, he looks absolutely calm. No vibrating, no yelling, no talking really fast. And it hits its intended mark – my assurances. Okay.

“Alright.” I wring my hands one last time, then clap them and step back from the town diorama that Beetlejuice is roaming in. I cross my arms, then drop them to my sides and look around, then finally back at the impatient ghost… who’s doing squats. Good grief, how much energy is in this guy? “Beetlejuice.”

He gasps, jumps up to his feet, nearly falling over because his weight landed wrong and then rubs his hands together. “Here we go!”

“Beetlejuice.”

“Oh. You do it right, babe.”

Oh my god, here we go. Hopefully this can’t make my situation any worse- I mean, I am being targeted by a killer. What are the odds that this goofball of a ghost could ruin my life anymore? “Beetlejuice.”

“PRESTO!”

Human! Chucky / Charles Lee Ray – Chucky’s POV:

I figure this is going to be a pain, when a screech tears from the ugly old house before I even get in. Confused, and more then frustrated because this spells out nothing but problems for me for when I get in, instead of the nice peaceful kill I was intending to enjoy, I open the screen door -bitch didn’t even lock the front door, it’s like she wants me to kill her,- and rush up the stairs to where the sound came from. “Hold on, I’m not there yet!!”

What the hell is going on?!

“Look, in my professional experience, the screamin’ doesn’t start til the killer takes out a knife, sometimes even before but not before I even get into the house, lady. The audacity of you, here- “

What am I looking at here?

In front of my eyes, my fucking eyes, stands of course Y/N, my victim. And some kind of zebra - one that’s been dead and left out in the swamp for a fuck-long time. He’s got crazy eyes if I’ve ever seen them, and have you seen mine? That’s saying something. Who is this joker? In my coat, I grip the gun I keep just in case strangulation goes awry, but don’t bring it out just yet. Not until this guy reveals his cards, first.

The guy’s eyes flicker in smug amusement from my face, to my gun pocket -evidently, he realises something’s up. Can’t blame the guy, damnit, -, then whips right around, leaving his back wide open for me and my weapon, to my facepalming victim. I smirk at her. “I take it that’s the guy you want rid of, toots?”

“Uh… yeah… “She looks adorable and awkward. The guy lets go of her waist, which he was holding close to his body as she leaned away before, when I walked in and he literally, and I’ve never seen any person do this before, halted in his tracks. Stopped breathing, stopped shifting, it even seemed like the history around him stopped for that ‘caught’ moment. And I swear I heard the sound of record music abruptly being turned off come from his mouth.

And for some odd reason, I get the feeling he’s not human. Can’t conjure a reason why, though.

I should be saying this shit out loud, I’m wasted on myself.

Figuring this guy’s been hired to get rid of me, I take out my gun. “Okay, you’re gonna have to catch me up on what’s happening... Oh, no? Well, okay.”

BAM!

A bullet flies across the room and sticks into the freak’s chest, and that is the end of things going my way.

Because the force of the bullet somehow sends him slamming across the room and through a wall in the back. His body goes ‘poot’ down two stories outside and theirs a silence that doesn’t last long enough for either Y/N or I to digest what just fucking happened before the bastard’s grotty fucking hand spiders up my spine from behind. I wriggle out of his reach immediately on impact, because it’s like a real fucking spider, and whip around, waiving my gun- which is useless now, of course.

Games are over.

The guy looks over at Y/N and grins, throwing his arms out in a ‘ta da!’ way. She winces and just narrows her eyes in a glare. “What’d you think of that, sweet cheeks? I got a flare for the dramatic, you know? Ssssexy! Eh?” When she sticks her tongue out at him, for lack of any words to respond to that with I guess -I mean, I, can think of some choice words for the guy, but she’s clearly not as creatively gifted in the art of insult as I have been told I am. But, a tongue out works, - he grins the most fucking horny grin I’ve ever seen and clutches his sack. Her jaw drops.

“Where the ever-loving fuck did you pick crazy pants up from??” I ask, looking accusingly at Y/N. She chews on the inside of her cheeks and looks even more awkward then before.

“Truce?” She asks, instead of answering my question. I’m genuinely curious.

I roll my eyes. “Ughh, fine.”

“Oh well that won’t do,” The guy speaks up again, looking between us and letting his Johnson go, thank god. The boys have to breath! “Baby girl, blossom, light of my FUCKING DEATH! You wound me. riGHT IN THE HEART! Let me show you, sweetgums, why that was a bad idea.”

Her eyes widen, and I suddenly feel real unsafe. “How about you don’t- “

“Watch this!”

He turns to me, makes some overdramatic hand gestures, throwing his back out in the process and momentarily acting like he’s out of order.

Then he whips back into action and shoots me with finger guns,

And then suddenly everything around me looks 4 times bigger then before. Oh, well, its that or… I’m closer to the ground.

Because I’m a fucking doll again.

I slowly look up from the little black baby shoes and the edges of the godamn jean jumpsuit, to the infected condom in black and white grease paint. “… You son-of-a-bitch.”

He chuckles and turns to Y/N, and gives her finger guns too, but the only other thing that happens this time is he winks at her. “Now, baby! Time to get hitched!”

“What?!” She shrieks.

Freddy Krueger – Freddy’s POV:

“I’m going to die of boredom before this bitch catches winks. I’m gonna pummel her with the counting sheep she clearly needs when she gets here.” The corners of my mouth lift up from the deep scowl I was wearing before, at the idea. It has merit.

Behind me the fine folks of Pompeii run for their lives and a red and green striped Vesuvius explodes molten lava over their little town when I remember it’s been 2 days since she’s fallen asleep. Or found some fucking Hypnocil. Or killed herself. Who knows, really. I have a… deadly effect on women.

But damn, it would be a bummer if she killed herself. I was having fun with her. I had plans.

Have, have. I have plans. I won’t give up hope yet.

An hour, or who knows how long later -time is a human construct and doesn’t exist in the dream plain, - , I’m lying on the ground watching Psycho play in the sky when that familiar tingle rushes through me, telling me someone’s entered my world.

I’m just getting up and brushing myself off, taking my damn time like she left me to wait -besides, I can turn back time and make it seem like I appeared instantaneously if I want to. Time’s a construct, remember? And this is my world. I’m just doing this for me, to make me feel better, - when she comes out of fucking nowhere and nearly knocks me over. Im-ee-diate-ly I open my mouth to ask her why she’s so eager, but she beats me to the punch, causing me sadness.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

Hold on, I definitely think there’s something off here. Don’t I make the fucking demands?! “Bitch- ”

“Wake!”

“-I haven’t done anything to you yet.”

“Up!”

“Goddamn!”

What is going on here!?

“I’ll do anything you want, just please. Wake me up!” Her eyes are deadly serious, and I can’t help the greedy smile I get at her submissive idea. What could have made her this way? I laugh.

“Ohhh, I’ll think it over. Tempting offer, though~” She lets out a growl and let’s go of me in pure frustration, looks around quickly for something and then lays eyes on my glove. She picks it up, and my eyes widen in surprise at what she does next.

The blade slices through the skin in her upper arm before I can take any control of the situation, and a nauseous feeling suddenly rolls me and she whimpers from the pain of slicing herself open, as the world goes blurry around us and she wakes up- of course, still holding my glove, which is attached to me, so I go with her.

“Fucking he- “

Much quicker than you think it will be, we both turn up back in the fucking reality. She hops up immediately and flies across the room to a first aid box.

I’m just assuming, I mean. Because I don’t make any move to leave the bed at all and just close my eyes and groan, and resist the urge to cry.

I hate this placceeeeeeeeee.

“BABES, YOU’RE BACK!”

Now I resist the urge to scream and phase out of existence, because a man just appeared on the bed with me and called me his babes. Instead, I slowly turn my head to him and sinisterly narrow my eyes- and hope he doesn’t notice my distress from a second ago.

I’m starting to understand why Y/N was so intent on getting back here. If this guy, a dung beetle with… oh, god. Clearly, some kind of terrible illness if that smell indicates anything, was hanging around me while I slept, I’d be… slightly bothered too. If only for the stink!

He squints, and while he does, his hair flickers through the various colours in the rainbow, confused. “Sweetbottom, theirs something different about you. Did you get contacts?”

As a knee jerk reaction, I stab him in the gut with my blades. “Stranger danger, bitch!”

My panic dissolves into glee as I jerk the knives upwards… just to turn back into panic when he starts tearing all the way in half from my stab wound up to the top of his head with minimal effort from me. I gulp, and retreat from him to where Y/N is, taping her bandages securely around her arm. I gesture to the freak who’s padded onto the floor and is zipping himself back together in front of my eyeballs. “… the fuck is that?”

“That’s Beetlejuice, he’s a ghost=

“With the most, baby.” ‘Beetlejuice’ stands up straight and rests his hands on his hips, chest puffed out and winks at Y/N.

“-What do we do?” She asks, looking with wide eyes at me.

What does she think I am? The Fairy Godmother of the dead?? I’m no godmoth-

… I could use this. A slow grin spreads across my mouth. “First, you go over there and distract him.”

For a split second she looks like she’s actually going to go with it, then looks with furrowed, unimpressed eyebrows at me. ‘Beetlejuice’ makes grabby hands at us, and she starts to look more panicked by the second. “And what will you do??”

I yank the bedroom door open. “Run!!”

#Keatlejuice #Beetlejuice #Chucky #Charles Lee Ray #Freddy Krueger #Drabbles #Scenarios #Part 1 #Horror / Misc Drabbles || Part 1 #Beetlejuice x Reader #Keatlejuice x Reader #Chucky x Reader #Charles Lee Ray x Reader #Freddy Krueger x Reader

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 12)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 My Master Post

Remus sulked in the back of Roman’s car. It wasn’t fair. His brother and his best friend were both in the front seat and had been mocking him for the past 10 minutes and they wouldn’t even put on an interesting music station. Roman had even told Janus about the time Remus had peed on a wasp sting thinking it would work like it did for jellyfish.

“We should play a car game,” Remus suggested.

“Absolutely not,” Roman said immediately.

“Come on Ro, it’s tradition,” Remus said.

“You kill my cows every time!” Roman said. “You could kill Uncle Patton’s cows since he’s always winning, but you always choose to kill my cows!”

“But RooooOOO.”

“No.”

“Fine,” Remus relented. “No Cow Game.”

“Thank you.”

“I spy with my-”

“No, Remus.”

Remus paused. “I’m thinking of an animal.”

“I’m not playing Remus.”

They sat in silence for about 20 seconds. “There’s a Kentucky driver’s license. One point for me.”

Roman chose to just ignore him now.

“Janus you’ll play with me, won’t you?” he asked.

“Remus, I don’t even know what you’re talking about, and you’re already annoying me,” was the answer.

“Come on if we’re going to listen to stupid music, we should at least play a game. How about we try to find things outside of the car in alphabetical order. I’ll start. Airport sign! Now you find something starting with the letter ‘b’.”

Does the annoying bastard in the backseat count?” Janus grumbled under his breath.

“No,” Remus replied with a grin. “It’s got to be something outside of the car.”

Janus didn’t respond to that and Remus pouted. He went through a bunch of different car games he knew and tried to make some up, but none seemed to entice either his brother or Janus to play. While usually he might just give up after being ignored for so long, he noticed Janus’s hand start tapping a restless pattern on his leg after only about 10 seconds of Remus’s silence. So, Remus decided to drop the car games and instead just focused on being as annoying as possible.

…

“Theeeeeeeeee…. wheels on the bus go round and round!”

“I’m going to kill him,” Janus said blankly.

“That’s what he wants,” Roman said mildly. “Just ignore him.”

Remus kept singing for a long time. Eventually he ran out of verses, so he just started to make some up. “The strippers on the pole…”

“Oh my god,” Janus said. “I can’t handle this anymore.”

“Seriously Jan,” Roman said. “Just pretend he doesn’t exist, and he’ll eventually wear himself out.”

“In how long?” Janus asked, just the slightest edge of hysteria to his voice.

“It depends on if he’s had any caffeine today.”

Remus kept singing, but Janus and Roman remained resolutely silent on the matter until Remus eventually trailed off.

“This is boring,” Remus said.

Nothing.

“At least change the radio station to something not lame.”

Janus reached forward and turned the volume on the radio station up. Remus sat back in his seat and thought for a few minutes which is when he tuned into the radio station.

“So, if you’d like to request a song, you can call in or send a request through our new app,” the man on the radio said. Remus smiled widely and grabbed his phone from his pocket.

When he turned it on, he had a bunch of missed phone calls and text messages from dad. What? He opened the text messages and they all seemed to be asking the same question: ‘Have you seen your brother?’ Remus glanced up at the back of Roman’s head.

‘I’m not his keeper,’ he texted back.

Then, he closed out of the messenger app and pressed the button for the app store. He quickly found what he was looking for and pressed the download button.

It took a couple of minutes to download and about when it was over, he noticed Janus shoot a look back at him. He opened his mouth, doubtlessly to comment on Remus’s silence. Not wanting to be suspicious, Remus opened his mouth and let out his patented ‘banshee scream.’

“Don’t look at him!” Roman yelled over the sound of Remus’s scream.

“Why is your brother a demon from hell?” Janus asked, hands over his ears.

Remus ran out of air after a moment. There was a beat of silence.

“Can I please kill him, Roman?” Janus asked.

“No,” Roman replied. “Really, just ignore him.”

Janus grumbled under his breath and turned the radio station up even more. Satisfied that they were none the wiser, Remus opened the now downloaded app and quickly found the “suggestions” tab in the menu drop down. He didn’t even have to check the given list of suggested songs to know what he wanted was not on it.

So, he tapped on the button to suggest a different song and typed in the details of what he wanted before pressing send. Then it was just a waiting game and no matter what dad (and everyone else) had always said, Remus was good at waiting games. At least, he was when he wanted to be. Both Janus and Roman were looking resolutely ahead and Roman’s fingers were tapping to the beat of the current song on the wheel despite the fact that they were going over the speed limit to a crazy amount.

The song ended and a man came on the air.

“Hello, hello, hello,” the man said. “We’ll be getting right back to your suggestions on KSS-FM 102.9, but before that for anyone on Interstate 26, there was an accident near the Carlson exit involving a semi-truck full of cows. If you’re anywhere near exit 52, I’d suggest you moo-ve right on over to an alternative route.”

“Fantastic,” Janus hissed, slamming his fist against the dash.

“Hey, whoa, it’s fine,” Roman soothed, but Janus didn’t seem to be listening.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Hey, Jan,” Remus said. “You’ve got your map, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, it’ll be easy to find an alternate route, yeah?” he asked.

“We don’t even know where we’re going!” Janus said. “How the hell are we supposed to find an alternate route?!”

“We know where he was right?” Remus said. “The cows might actually be a good thing. It’ll probably slow everyone down and we can guess what alternate route he might be using.” Janus didn’t say anything. “Here,” he said. “Gimme.” Janus handed over his atlas and Remus peered at it. “Yeah, here, see,” he said, showing it to him. “There are about four likely alternative routes someone might take near where Virgil was the last we knew. Three of them end up funneling into to Lincoln to get back onto the interstate and Lincoln has an ice-cream shop that got burglarized five times one summer, so they put up a security camera facing main street.”

“Please tell me you didn’t burglarize the ice cream shop,” Roman begged.

“You can prove nothing,” Remus said. He hadn’t actually, but he liked the distressed noise Roman gave in answer. “Anyway, I’d say we throw in our lots with that and drive to Lincoln to check the security camera. Even if he didn’t go that way, we can then make another guess based on where the 4th route went.”

“That…” Janus said. “Yeah, that’s actually a good suggestion Remus, thank you.”

“No prob Janny Fanny.”

“And you ruined it,” Janus said.

Remus just gave him the biggest smile he could.

Janus rolled his eyes and turned away from him to look back at the map. He grabbed a pen and circled the location that Remus had suggested. “You’ll want to get off at the next exit,” he told Roman.

Roman nodded. “Got it.”

Remus had actually almost forgotten in the interim about his absolutely fantastic idea until a few minutes later when the radio man announced the next song. Remus could already feel a smile creep up his face as the man snickered a little bit when he started speaking.

“Now,” he said, “we usually wouldn’t play this song, but it does seem… appropriate considering the trucks that crashed on I-26 and the person who suggested it wrote about why he wanted us to play it in the comments.” He broke for another short laugh. “As a sibling myself, I feel sympathy for your plight D-dongmaster-5000. So, here’s for you, stuck in a car while your brother and best friend hog the radio. I hope your road trip goes well.” And then, beautifully, the radio started singing the song of Remus’s soul.

Two trucks having sex

My muscles, my muscles

Involuntarily flex

Remus saw Janus look over at Roman. Roman didn’t look away from the road. Instead, he just said with zero emotion, “Kill him.”

Janus vaulted over into the back seat as the radio crooned:

Two pickup trucks

Making love

American made.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 13

#sanders sides #remus sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #creativitwins #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #emile piccani #road trips and missing persons #adriana writes #kidnapping #murder mentioned

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