#and your parents gave him your clothes and your identity

[andvys]

Love of my life | E.M.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, slight angst, Eddie is a little mean for a second but he makes it up to reader right away, happy ending, grumpy!Eddie x sunshine!reader

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female reader

Summary: Eddie gives you the cold shoulder because he fears his feelings for you after you confront him and he realizes that he could lose you, he makes a confession. Based on this request, also combined it with this one.

Word count: 4.2k+

stranger things masterlist

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Eddie had always been good at reading people, it always came easy to him to see right through someone else’s intentions. He knows when someone is trying to play with his feelings, he knows when someone pretends to be nice only to make fun of him later on, he knows when he gets asked out for a bet or just for the fun of it, he knows that the girls he sells weed to only play nice so they can get a discount– in reality, they hate him and think he is weird, he knows it, he knows everything. 

It was always hard for him to trust people that tried coming into his life, knowing that they always wanted something from him. 

Then, you came along. 

Your family moved to Hawkins two years ago and you settled in pretty quickly. You joined the cheer squad, befriended the popular girls, went to every single party that you got invited to, hung out with King Steve and his then girlfriend Nancy Wheeler, you always wore fancy clothes, expensive boots and designer leather jackets, it was pretty clear that your parents had money. 

But you weren’t– aren’t stuck up, rude and snotty like Jason Carver or his group of friends are. You don’t brag about the wealth your parents have, the house you live in, the car you drive or the clothes you wear. You don’t put others down, you don’t bully people, you don’t look down at the ones that have less than you do. No, you aren’t like the other rich kids in school, you are kind and sweet, you are helping, always cheerful and there to make everyone smile. 

The popular girls are always feared, you aren’t. 

He likes you but he struggles to show it, he struggles to let you in because despite knowing about the things he can clearly see, he struggles to read you, to see through you and your intentions.

He knows you aren’t like the others that came into his life to play with his feelings, to hurt him and take something from him, you aren’t like any of those hungry vampires that came just to suck the energy out of him. You are not like them. Yet, he struggles to give you a chance. 

Despite being friends with girls from the cheer squad or guys like Steve Harrington, you always come back to him. Since your very first day in school, you have been trying to befriend Eddie. Why? He doesn’t know. As far as he knows, there isn’t much that you have in common. 

Eddie lives in the trailer park, you live in a big house with a pool. Eddie drives an old van, you drive an expensive car, Eddie is hated, you are loved. Maybe it’s superficial of him to judge by these things. He doesn’t know much about you personally, he never even gave you a chance, he never gave himself the chance to get to know more about you. He was scared to do it. He was scared to let you in, to give you a part of him that no one ever gets, to be vulnerable and risk getting his heart broken, knowing that you would break his heart if he gave you the chance to. 

He likes you, despite telling himself that he doesn’t. He likes the clothes you wear, he loves the leather jacket especially, he loves the cute dresses and the pretty skirts, the rings on your finger that remind him of the ones his mom would always wear, there is one on your middle finger, one with an emerald stone, it’s almost identical to the one he still has in his drawer, hidden in a little box that has her belongings. He loves the way your nails are always painted a new color every week. He loves your sweet perfume and the way it fills his senses when you walk past him, he loves the way you do your makeup and the way you always greet him with a smile even when he doesn’t give a proper one back. 

But he hates the way his heart flutters when you sneak notes into his locker or into the pocket of his jacket during class– he keeps every single one of them, he hates the way his heart beats faster when your hand brushes his when he walks with you to your next class on a rare occasion, he hates the way butterflies fill his stomach when you wave at him from across the room despite sitting with the girls from the cheer squad, the ones that always glare at him and talk in hushed whispers when they pass by him in the hallways. He hates the way you keep trying to get to know more about him, he hates the way you get along with the guys from the Hellfire club, he hates the way Wayne asks about you after he only met you once when you brought over homework for Eddie after he missed a school day when he was sick. Eddie hates the way you always take over his mind, the way you are always there, even in his dreams, the way you sneaked your way into his heart.

You are everywhere. When he doesn’t see you in school, he runs into you at the record store, at the diner or even the hideout. One night when he was drunk on beer and high on weed, his filter was gone and he let his emotions out, he found the note you slipped into his locker, the one that had your number written on it with your nickname and a small heart, he called you– if he wasn’t so drunk, he would have heard how cheerful your voice had gotten when you realized that it was him. He invited you to watch him play and you agreed to come right away. Ever since then, you came every Tuesday to watch him play and cheer him on, his friends teased him for it, just like the Bartender who knew Eddie since he was seventeen. Eddie pretended to be annoyed but he secretly loved that you were there just for him. 

He started warming up to you, the longer you stuck around, though he was still apprehensive and careful, still expecting you to reveal that your kindness towards him was only a part of a huge prank. Deep down he knew that it wasn’t the case, you have been there for longer than anyone else has, yet he was scared and continued to close himself off from you not realizing that he was hurting you. 

You are always smiling, you are always cheerful and happy, sometimes it irritates him– not because he doesn’t like it but because it makes him feel guilty for being so grumpy when you are nothing but sweet to him. 

The closer you both get, the more he becomes a part of your life. He finds out more about you and realizes that you have much more in common than he thought, he finds some cassettes of his favorite bands in your room, his favorite book on your bedside table, you both share a love for horror movies– especially Halloween. He finds out that you can play guitar and he swore, the moment he saw you play and heard your pretty voice, he fell in love. 

But while you let him in closer, he still kept pushing you away and it was hurting you. 

“Do you have any plans for spring break?” 

Eddie shakes his head, leaning back in his seat, he places the empty milkshake glass on the table and looks around the diner before his eyes settle on you, “no, what about you?” 

You shake your head, “not really,” you mumble. 

Eddie doesn’t notice the sad look in your eyes, he is only focused on the smile on your face, the one he doesn’t realize is fake.

“Rich and popular girl has no plans for the summer?” He snorts. 

You restrain yourself from rolling your eyes, you never minded his little jabs or snarky remarks but lately it’s been getting on your nerves. Why are you here? Why are you still sticking around when he clearly doesn’t want to spend time with you? He never wants you around, anyways. He only came to the diner because Gareth and Jeff canceled their plans with him and you were already here when he got here. 

“I mean I’ve been asked on a date,” you shrug as you play with your straw, staring at the pink liquid in your glass, you don’t notice the way his face falls or the way he tenses up and swallows harshly. 

“A-A date?” He asks. 

You nod. 

Eddie stares at your black nails, at your pretty makeup and your soft red lips that always look so kissable to him, your dress is new, he wonders if you put it on for someone or just for yourself. 

“Who asked you out?” He asks, digging his nails into his palms. 

“Mason,” you mumble as you finally look up at him, “you know, the guy from the school band?” 

Eddie clenches his jaw, suddenly his chest tightens and an ugly feeling rushes through him. He doesn’t want you to go on a date with someone else, he doesn’t want to see you with someone else, you are meant to be here, with him. 

“Yeah, I know him.” And he can’t even hate him, Mason is nice, not just to you but also to him and everyone else, his dad owns the record store downtown, the one Eddie always goes to, Mason works there after school and he always gives him discounts and even supports his band. 

“S-So are you going?” Eddie asks, nervously. 

As you look into Eddie’s eyes, you notice something that you haven’t seen there before. Possessiveness, jealousy and sadness. Maybe you should feel joyful to know that he hates the thought of you going on a date but it angers you and it makes you scoff in annoyance. 

Eddie keeps giving you the cold shoulder, he keeps pushing you away, he keeps treating you with halfhearted kindness while you give him nothing but love and kindness. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I don’t like him like that.” Because you like someone else. 

The tension leaves his body right away and he sighs in relief, his face visibly relaxes and he chuckles, “thought I’d lose my favorite girl.” 

On a different occasion, it would have made your heart flutter and your smile would be big but not today. Today, you are overwhelmed by your emotions, the realization that you have fallen in love with him, laid heavy on your heart because you know that he doesn’t feel the same and that it will only end badly for you. 

“Right,” you scoff as you tear your gaze away from him and reach for your purse, taking out your small wallet, you pick out the $20 bill and place it on the table, “like you would care.” 

Your sudden outburst and the snappy tone in your voice catches him off guard a little, you have never snapped at him before, you have never glared at him, you have never rolled your eyes at him, you have never walked away from him. 

But now, he frowns in confusion and watches you rush out of the diner with your purse and jacket in your hand, not even sparing a single glance at him before you push the door open and walk out. 

“What the hell,” Eddie mumbles, jumping to his feet and running after you without a moment of hesitation. He rushes out of the diner, running through the parking lot before you can get into your car. Just as you open the door, he reaches for your arm and pulls you back, shutting the door before he pushes you up against your car and steps right in front of you. 

Your eyes widen a little when you realize just how close he is to you, you have never been this close. 

“What’s gotten into you?” 

You put your hands on his chest and try to push him away but he won’t budge, he grabs your wrists and holds them tightly but gently. 

“Let me go!” 

“No, tell me what’s your problem, why are you acting so rude? You’ve been doing it all night.” 

“Oh, I’m rude?” You scoff as you keep trying to push him away, “you are the rude one!” 

He chuckles at your words and shakes his head, “you are the one who just stormed out for no reason.” 

You furrow your brows as you look up at him. His eyes are filled with curiosity and his lips are pulled into a smirk, he irritates you. You’ve had enough of this, of him giving you the cold shoulder, of him teasing you, knowing damn well that you have feelings for him. 

“I mean in general, Eddie! You are always cold towards me, you always act annoyed when you’re with me even when you are the one coming to me!” You say angrily, tears well up in your eyes. 

Eddie’s smirk begins to fade when he sees the tears in your eyes. 

“Whenever I’m at the hideout, I’m there just for you and you don’t even seem to want me there, not even when you were the one who asked me to come in the first place!” 

For the first time, Eddie watches tears roll down your cheeks, the look in your eyes is one of anger and sadness but also longing. You are longing for him. You are longing for him to apologize to you, to pull you into his arms and tell you that he will do better but he can’t, not when he messed up so bad, not when you are crying because of him already. 

The angel on his shoulder tells him to apologize but the devil tells him to push you away the way he should’ve done a long time ago, for your sake or his? He doesn’t know. 

“A-At first, I didn’t even care that you were being s-so cold but now it just hurts. I wanna be your friend but you make it so damn hard,” you whisper as you try to blink your tears away, “you know everything about me but I don’t know anything about you–” 

“Is that what you want?” Eddie asks, “to know things about me?” 

His brown eyes flash with anger, his voice is laced with bitterness. He lets go of your hands and takes a step back. 

“So you can make fun of me, right? You wanna know things about my family, about my dad? About what he did to my mom?” He snaps, “that’s what you wanna know? So you can run back to your asshole friends and tell them all about the trailer trash gossip?”

Your bottom lip quivers and your shoulder slump, a look of disappointment crosses your features. You would never do this, you don’t even consider those people your friends and he knows it, yet he can’t stop himself from spewing all those ugly words to you. 

“That’s why you kept running after me and that’s why you stuck around for so long, right?” Eddie asks, “tell me, was it a bet? Did they set you up to this?” 

You shake your head, the wind picks up a little, blowing through your hair and messing up your bangs a little, you don’t bother pushing them away, you keep staring at him through your blurry vision. 

That’s what he thinks of you? 

You have given him nothing but kindness, you dropped some of the people you used to call friends, because you realized how badly they treated him, because he is more important to you than anyone else. 

You stare at him in disbelief, his eyes that usually give you comfort despite the coldness he only ever gives you, make you shudder in pain, his lips are set in a frown, his skin looks pale beneath the moonlight and you hate yourself for thinking that he is still the most beautiful person you have ever laid your eyes on. You hate yourself for still longing for him and you hate yourself for loving him when he clearly hates you so much. 

“Why would you think that?” You whisper shakily as you clutch your purse tighter.

He blinks, he shifts a little, taking in the sight of your tear stained face, the hurt in your eyes and the quivering lip, your voice sounding so heartbroken. 

He was wrong but he knew that already, he doesn’t know why he is ruining things for himself, why he is hurting you so much. 

He hesitates, his hands itching to reach out to you and pull you into his arms, to hold you and hug you for the first time but he can’t. 

“You’re my friend, I dropped them all because I realized how awful they all were, especially to you! You’re important to me, Eddie. And I would do anything for you, anything! I-I knew you never wanted me around but I tried because I wanted you so badly, I really really wanted you and I kept running after you like some lovesick fool but it was for nothing,” you whisper, watching the way his eyes widen at your words, he stares at you in disbelief. 

Lovesick? He wishes he could speak now but all he does is stare at you in shock. 

Your one sided friendship is over, you don’t have to keep any of those secrets that you thought would ruin this thing between you anymore. 

“I love you, Eddie,” you whisper, biting back the sob that rises up in your throat. 

His lips part in surprise and his heart leaps to his throat as tears well up in his eyes just the way they did in yours. You are telling the truth, you have always been telling the truth.

He built walls around him to defend himself from all the pain that you could cause him if you broke his heart but right now as he stands here in front of you and he looks into your soft eyes, he realizes just how big of a fool he always was. 

You would never break his heart. You love him. Why? He doesn’t know. You are this sweet angel that waltzed into his life and chose to give all her love to the guy that didn’t even know how to accept it. 

He doesn’t deserve you, at least that’s what he thinks. 

Your sniffles break him out of his trance, his heart breaks at the sight of you. He made you cry, he broke your heart. The girl that has done nothing but bring joy into his life is now crying because he messed it up. 

You wipe your tears and turn away from him, you open the door and throw your purse and your jacket into the car. 

“Goodbye, Eddie,” you whisper. 

Panic fills his chest and his eyes widen as he looks at you. You are leaving. You are leaving him. His heart screams at him to do something, to pull you into him, to wrap his arms around you, to kiss you and apologize over and over again, to make it up to you. 

His heart starts beating faster, his hands begin to shake. 

He can’t let you go, he can’t let his stupid fears control him, he can’t keep listening to the lies, his anxiety keeps telling him about you, he can’t keep doing this to you. 

“I love you too!” 

It was loud and probably a little dramatic but he doesn’t care, he finally said it. A huge weight falls off his shoulders and suddenly he feels free. 

You freeze, shock ripples through you and you stare into blank space for a moment. 

Eddie takes a step forward, staring at the back of your head with a soft look in his eyes, he reaches for your arm and he slowly turns you around so he can see your face again. When your eyes finally lock, you notice the adoration in them, one that you have never seen before because he always hid it from you. 

“I love you, y/n,” he whispers softly as he tugs you closer, he raises his hands towards your face and cups your cheek slowly, touching you the way he never did before– he should have done it a long time ago, “please don’t leave me,” he whispers with a hint of fear in his voice.

You stare at him wide eyed. 

“I know you wouldn’t do any of those things,” he whispers as he strokes your cheek, “I-I was just, fuck, sweetheart, I’m scared.” 

“Of what, Eddie?” 

“Of this,” he whispers, pointing between the two of you, “y-you’re so perfect and amazing, you do all these things for me. You support the band that no one gives a fuck about, for fucks sake! A-And I’m just a–” he pauses, sighing, “I’m the town freak!” 

“Yeah and I freaking love you!” 

His heart flutters in his chest, warmth fills his body, a kind he has never felt before.

“Why?” He asks softly. 

You grab his wrists and step closer to him so your chest is pressed against his, “you are perfect, Eddie. You are so talented in so many ways, you are so good to the people around you, you protect your friends, you are always there when someone needs you and you always made me feel safe, even when you kind of acted like a dick. You are better than any of these people living in this shitty town, you are better than those assholes you called my friends! Y-You are just perfect to me, Eddie,” you pause, raising your hand towards his face, you brush away the curls from his face, “and you’re not a freak, by the way.” 

A tear rolls down his cheek and you quickly wipe it away, letting your hand rest on his cheek, “and you’re so beautiful, Eddie.”

His heart soars at your words. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes for a moment. He could have had this for so long already but his fears have led him to push you away, to hurt you, to make you believe that you aren’t anything special to him. Like he didn’t create D&D characters based on you, like he didn’t have a bunch of drawings of you at home, like he didn’t spend every second thinking about you.

Like he isn’t utterly in love with you. 

“Please forgive me for pushing you away, for saying all these horrible things to you, sweetheart,” he whispers as he opens his eyes again, “I-I know that I’m really fucking bad at showing this but, I’m so crazy about you, y/n.” 

You smile at his words, blushing and biting back the excited giggle as your eyes shine with happiness again. 

How could he ever be scared of you? You will never hurt him, you will never break his heart, you will never leave him. You will always be the one to stay, like he will be the one to stay with you. 

“I’m crazy about you too, Eddie,” you whisper as you wrap your arms around him and place your head on his chest, hugging him the way you always craved to. He sighs at the feeling, this might be the best feeling in the world, feeling you in his arms. He spent so many moments thinking about this, finally, he gets to do it. He wraps his arms around you and leans down to kiss the top of your head. 

It’s only the first time that you are in his arms, yet it feels so natural. You can feel his heart racing, it matches the beat of your own heart.

“This is so much better,” you murmur. 

“Better than what?” He asks, squeezing your arms. 

“Better than you being grumpy.” 

“I’m sorry, sunshine,” he says as he pulls back so he can look at you again, cupping your cheeks again, he gives you a soft smile, “let me make it up to you?” 

“I’d like that,” you whisper. 

His eyes light up, he looks down at your lips and tucks your hair behind your ears, “you’re too good to me.” 

You stand on your tippy toes and wrap your arms around his neck, “it’s what you deserve, Eddie, you deserve to be loved,” you whisper and lean in to kiss his cheek. His breath hitches in his throat, the feeling of your lips on his skin might make his knees weak, “so please, let me love you.” 

He lets all his walls crumble, he lets the love in, your love. He smiles sweetly and whispers a desperate, ‘please’. 

You kiss his other cheek and place your hand on his neck, “I’ll love you forever if you let me.” 

“Only if you let me love you,” he says with hope in his eyes. 

“It’s all I ever wanted,” you smile.

“Me too,” he admits, finally. 

“I’ll love you forever, you’re gonna get sick of me,” Eddie says, making you giggle. 

“I could never get sick of you, Eddie.” 

“Good,” he smiles before he finally kisses you for the first time ever, letting himself fall into your arms completely, knowing that he and his heart will always be safe with you. 

#Eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson drabble #stranger things angst

[dcxdpdabbles]

I got the Passion For Fashion brainworms, and since you're guilty for it you WILL get my headcannons.

Since Clockwork made them know spanish as if it was their first language, they only talk in spanish with eachother, more often than not completely forgetting that they are talking in SPANISH.

Danny and Dan like bickering and banter but since they were basically eachother once upon a time they know eachother's limits perfectly. That causes them to say a lot of agressive and downright nasty stuff to eachother so it always sounds like they hate eachother and are constantly fighting.

Clockwork gave them the "essentials" for making clothes, so Dan will absolutely just spam Danny's phonenwith pictures and descriptions of a sewing gadget or tool and be like "Danny i need this. Please. I know you keep making stuff don't lie to me. I know you can do it so please just make it. Danny we are too poor to buy this. Danny PLEASE I need it" until Danny accepts making the thing in true Fenton fashion.

Danny and Dan making up names for themselves because no sane parent names both of their twins "Daniel"

"I swear to the Ancients I will NOT hesitate to go Cain Instinct on your ass-"

Making fun of Vlad together. Just. Making fun of him in general.

The pmoment Bruce decides to show some interest in the twins Danny go home running and be like "Dan. Dan I fuckked up. Dan there's another billionaire after us. Dan how do I always fuck this up." and since they're both dumbasses they panic together and the batkids (who are most likely listening in with a bug or smth) are all just laughing at Bruce's sour face.

Dan headcannons cuz i love him:

I think that even if they're identical twins, Dan has longer hair with a dark gray streak (cuz of vlad ofc)

even if he is a fashion maker he probably goes everywhere wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

Dan forcefully makes Danny do skincare to make his appearance look good but will never even drink a glass of water for his own health.

I love them and spent the entire day without internet so now I'm devoting myself thanks for the content <3<3

I love all of these!! Its beautiful!

Danny and Dan not realizing they slipped into Spanish is such a mood tbh. Sometimes, my coworkers and I do that, and my non Spanish speaking coworker just stares at us until we snap.

Lowkey they dislike each other, but they also love each other, and no one can tell with the insults they threw. Danny and Dan live and breath the "Only I can be mean to my sibling!"

Danny would make Dan anything he asked for if it meant keeping his Obsession healthy. On the one hand, it gives him something to do and, on the other hand, keeps Dan from jumping off the deep end again. He does get annoyed with Dan spamming him at three in the moring for "A machine that could double bedazzled and polish!"

Both kept their names as Danny and Dan, so neither is Daniel. Clockwork did that when he made their files. He knew if he tried to change their names, both would refuse to answer.

They turned Vlad into a verb. Danny trips over air? "You went and Vlad-ed everything bro" Dan refuses to shower cause he has some embroidery to do? "Ugh you Vlad-ed all of my scent receivers" sometimes when the fight is really big Danny will yell "YOUR JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER VLAD!" and Dan will gasp dramatically before bursting into tears. ( Cause he took Vlad ghost that makes him half vlad and Dan has to live with that)

Bruce would never understand why the twins are more freaked out by Brucie Wayne then Batman. His kids think it's hilarious.

Dan and Danny are identical down to the hairstyle in my au, but That will change with time. Dan will grow out his hair to put it in a man bun, while Danny will cut it short. And yes, Dan wears nothing by sweats or PJs. He doesn't care about the clothes after they are finished. He just likes making them.

Dan was a pure ghost for almost ten years before Clockwork messed with his body and threw it back into its teens. He is not used to doing most basic human needs like showering, eating, sleeping, and, of course, drinking water. Danny has to remind him his headache is due to lake of all the things mentioned. That will not stop him from designing a strict beauty regime for Danny, including hourly water intake.

Last little detail, both are terrible at social interactions. Dan beacuse he thinks of himself as a ghost and doesn't like humans so he avoids them if he can and Danny cause he sees everyone as unimportant since he's planning on going home. Neither of them know anything about Batman besides what clockwork told them. As of part 3 they didn't even know he was a vigilante. So this lake of information means they don't know anyhring about the rest of Gotham and that will play a big part in how they react to villains.

Also yes, Dan was being genuinely interested when he flirted with Killer Croc, but that's cause he thought he was a EverBurning. A group of Lizard men in the ghost zone is similar to the FarFrozen society only they live in volcano surrounded by lava.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #mun speaks #passion for fashion #side notes and headcanons

[sunny44]

All these years (Part 9)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Ten months after the last chapter

This was the first night I managed to sleep properly.

Today, our baby turns 1 month old.

Matilda Leclerc was as smiley as Charles, and the dimples were identical.

I carried her for 9 months, felt every pain for her to be born, just like him.

And speaking of Charles, I could hear his baby voice speaking softly to her as I lay in bed with my eyes closed.

"Do you know you're daddy's love? And that I'll take care of you forever?" she made some noises with her mouth. "Your mom is jealous that you look like me, but I honestly love that. I love you, you know, love your little eyes, chubby feet, and your baby smell. I love you even when you're all messy."

"Good to know." I say, looking at him. "You'll be in charge of the messy diapers now."

"I can do that." we hear a little fart, and he laughs.

"I think you'll have to start now."

"Well then." he gets up and leaves the room, and I brush my teeth and decide to go to her room. "Babe, come here."

"Problems?"

"I don't know if I'm doing it right." I see that the diaper is all crooked, making me laugh. "Don't laugh at me."

"Sorry, love. But you're doing a great job. Don't worry."

"Guide me."

"Okay, she's already clean, and the diaper is already positioned on her bum, so now you grab the front flap and pull it up." he does. "Now, open the tabs and fasten them in the front."

He does it slowly and fastens the last tab, then strokes her little tummy, and she giggles, making Charles's eyes fill with tears.

"Did you see that she laughed at me?"

"I saw, love." I hugged him from the side.

He finished putting on the onesie that said "I'm daddy's baby," which Charles had bought the day after we found out I was pregnant.

"Okay, I'll finish packing their bags so we can go to Arthur's."

Arthur and Megan are living in Milan for a few months to help us with the baby and we were going to visit them. It would be the first time everyone would meet her. Our parents followed the pregnancy, but during the delivery, there was a snowstorm here, so they couldn't catch the flights to come. And since today is her first month, we're all going to meet to celebrate.

In the first month, we didn't go out much with her. I think the fear that something might happen was greater, and I think all first-time parents have that fear.

"I'll take a shower, and then we can go."

I took a shower, did a quick makeup, and put on warm clothes since it was winter in Monaco.

"Look at this." he appears excited with Matilda dressed in a mini Ferrari uniform. "Look at how my baby is."

"She looks just like you on race weekends." he laughs. "Can we go?"

"We can." he hands her to me and takes the bags.

I locked the apartment door, and we went to the car, and obviously, Charles went straight to the Ferrari, a track that I started to hate since we had it.

"Let's not go in this death machine." he looks at me offended.

"My baby is not a death machine."

"Your baby is here on my lap, and I'm not going to put her in that car, which besides not having a back seat, is not safe."

"Okay." he gives up, and we go to my Range Rover."

My car and his two cars have a car seat for her since it was good for emergencies, and in fact, I haven't bought any since my parents, his parents, and Arthur and Carla gave them.

Matilda was the most spoiled child in the world, I think.

"Well strapped." he kisses her forehead and sits in the driver's seat. "Let's go."

The journey was composed of Matilda's cries and children's songs on the playlist that Charles had made for her on his Spotify account.

We arrived at Arthur's apartment and took all the luggage and went to the door. Charles had put her securely in the baby carrier on his chest so we could carry everything. She had fallen asleep and was covered with a blanket, her little face leaning against his chest.

When I tried to put her to sleep, it only worked when Charles wasn't home, but when he was, she only slept in his arms.

"We're here, family." he says somewhat loudly, and everyone comes running. "We know this rush is not for us."

"Yeah." I laughed, and we greeted everyone who went straight to Charles and Matilda.

"She's so beautiful." says stroking her thin hair. "She looks just like Charles."

"Don't say that near Y/n, or she'll ask for a divorce." I rolled my eyes, and they laughed.

Speaking of which, we got married. A few months after I found out I was pregnant.

We decided we didn't want a very big party, so we got married at the courthouse and had a little party for the family later, where we announced that we would be parents.

"She's a copy of Charles, literally." they look at me. "From the noises when they're sleeping to the stubbornness."

"I'm not stubborn, you liar."

"Yes, you are."

Soon, she started crying, and Charles took her out of the carrier and handed her to me. She hadn't breastfed before leaving home, so she woke up because of that.

"Someone is hungry." my mom says, and I sat on the couch.

The boys went to the kitchen to get something to drink, and I started breastfeeding Matilda while the girls sat around.

"How's it been? I mean, being a mother."

"It's great, to be honest. It's tiring at first, especially since none of us had experience with this, but we're doing well. She's very calm."

"That's great. Charles was the calmest of the three."

"Y/n was calm too and hardly caused any trouble."

"The only trouble she gives is when it's time to sleep. When Charles is away, she even sleeps with me, but as soon as she senses when he gets home, she wakes up. And when we're together, she only sleeps in his arms." they look, dying of love. "She'll finish here, and even though she's sleepy, Charles will have to take her."

"She's very attached to him, apparently."

"Yes, a clingy one." Matilda finishes, and I hand her over to Pescale, who said she wanted to fix her.

This was another funny topic. She always vomited on Charles, who surprisingly started laughing, and Matilda giggled along with him.

"Is she done already?"

"She's with your mom." I point, and Charles goes to his mom and takes her.

"Charles." she scolds him when he takes her.

"She's my baby, not yours." he says and leaves, making me laugh.

"Is he always like this?"

"Yes, even with me, but then I say that I carried and gave birth, and then he pouts and hands her over to me." they laugh. "He's very attached to her and doesn't leave her side. She grumbles to cry, and he runs to wherever she is."

"He's adorable."

We talked a little more, and I decided to go to the guest room, where I saw Charles passing with her a few minutes ago. I stopped at the door and watched them.

Charles swayed her slowly and murmured something. I approached him, and he smiled, then gently put her in the middle of several pillows, gave her a little kiss on the head, and hugged me from behind as we watched her sleep.

"I love you. And thank you for giving me her." he whispers in my ear, and I smile, snuggling more into his embrace.

"And thank you for not giving up on me."

He kissed my forehead, and we stayed there, watching our baby sleep.

Bonus scene!

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Liked by @charlesleclerc, @leclercpescale, @scuderiaferrari and others 84479

@yourusername this past year has been the best of my life.

I’ve married the love of my life, gave birth to our beautiful baby girl and I feel like I’ve never been happier.

Thank you @carlesleclerc for being the best hubby for me and the best daddy for our daughter.

@charlesleclerc I’m the lucky one to have you in my life and thank you for giving me our baby girl

@yourusername we love you 😘

@lorenzotl baby M is so cute

@fan753 her names starts with an M guys 🥲

@yourusername we love you uncle L

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[wonitten]

DETECTIVE TROUBLEMAKER (YJ)

Part 1. Part 2 ; Part 3

synopsis: In a desperate attempt to salvage her career, a klutzy detective plans to kidnap a corrupt minister as part of her final assignment. However, her plans go hilariously awry when she mistakenly kidnaps a charming mafia boss instead. But perhaps there was more to it.

pairings: Mafia boss! Jungwon x reader ft. Boss! Heeseung

genre: Comedy, romance(slightly), crime, Dramedy

warnings: Mild sexual references, your mom joke but brutal, violence, kidnapping, knife

WC: 1.5K

Sometimes, you feel like you're doing something wrong with your life, and it all started with the part where you chose to be a detective instead of a doctor, going absolutely against your parent's wishes

Which for starters is not working out well. Haha.

No, we are like in deepest shit for real man.

Why we? It's you? No it's me, but you are me, and I am you. We are we, we= together one connect. See that's why, you are the reason why it's not working out.

"Another inner monologue?", Heeseung says with a smile which you absolutely adore but you know better than to place kisses on his cheeks. That's your boss. "But I guess it's fine. It's sad to bid you bye and absolutely miss you ruining my time with your incompetence."

"Yeah I guess it's sad— Hold on, I am what now?", You cut off yourself, as his words sink inside your mind. "That was a joke, right?."

"Obviously", He chuckles, before dropping his smile. "Unless you fail again. Then it's going to be true."

"Si..r.....", You shakily whisper, before patting your head in your mind. That's why we do not think of kissing your boss because when we do, shits always are one step behind to rain over you.

"This is your last chance, Ms. Y/n. You are going to capture him, and bring out these details written in the file off his dirty little mouth. He is an important person, so you can't really just kill him. No mistakes", He raises his brow, while tapping on the file. "And he shouldn't know about your identity."

You nod, gulping. "Alright, I understand."

"Okay, Y/n go now", Heeseung says, his eyes are smiling again as he hands the file over to you. "Fail, and I will personally write the letter of firing you, alright?."

How about you slam me against the wall and kiss— No.

"Yes sir!", You salute towards him, before scurrying away from his office.

Heeseung exasperatedly sighs, looking down at his file where he was writing down notes on the recent case he was working on. And then he tilts his head, as he notices the missing image of the person on file. "Why is there no image of this guy?"

He grabs his phone, making a call.

"Sunghoon, where the fuck is mafia boss's picture?".

"What do you mean? It's right there. And honestly, you know his face, so why do you sound angry? I will take this call when you are calm", Sunghoon says, and slams the call shut, making Heeseung groan.

"Why am I always surrounded by these kind of people!?"

On the other hand, you were reading the file Heeseung gave you, and reading down the notes he had written beside it.

"Has had a lot of intimate relationships, the names could show more connections?", You frown and think to yourself, before turning over to the first page, where his picture lies. "This soft looking guy is a minister and already ruined. Damn, our world is fucked up."

You shook your head. "No judgement. But I first need a coffee."

You walk down to the cafe, taking more notes on your mind and practically reverse as to how you are going to have to kidnap him, and torture him to bring details from his mouth. "I can scare him with a knife if he says no. Oh and he should be blind so a cloth."

"If nothing scares him, then his threat about his sex videos going to internet. What would a minister care more than his reputation anyway?."

As you mutter to yourself, you enter the cafe and go towards the counter to order yourself a cup of coffee.

"What would you like?", the girl says, as you point over to the menu before turning away only to face the nonchalant guy who was standing behind you. His face scared the crap out of you.

This minister choi in bright daylight!?

"Are you okay?", the boy said, as he notices your freezed expression. "Excuse me, but like...".

"Oh! Haha, yes", You nervously laugh, before sliding from the line. "Go ahead, and order. I was just you know suddenly remembered about something."

The boy nods with a scrunch on his nose, as you noticed his faint dimples. Maybe you understand why he has multiple sec partners now. He is just so charming, what the fuck.

And that's just how you followed him having coffee, to a discreet street and kidnapped him with limited resources, a handkerchief and a bottle of chloroform that you had brought this morning for this very reason. You never know when opportunity comes up.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

______

Jungwon was having a hard time, trying to understand how he was here in the first place. If anyone ever learned, he was kidnapped like this, he is going to snap. But, right now he needs saving.

A mafia boss needs saving? Haha, how stupid does that sound. So well, he is going to save himself.

Jungwon rubs his thumb on the rope over his skin, before sighing. "Why?", he asks to the person who has kidnapped him, who he obviously couldn't see because he was blinded by a black cloth over his eyes.

"Because your luck is terrible and mine is great. Do what I say, and I'll delay the pleasure of hurting you", You mutter, while pressing the knife against his neck.

He snorts," Atleast hold the knife correctly when you are threatening me. Or I am guessing you are not actually going to stab me."

"Stop talking", You hiss, pressing the knife harder on his skin. "Remember, you are tied onto a chair. If you want to, we can do this forever."

Jungwon sighs," Atleast tell me who you are."

"That would be stupid?"

"Well I know your face"

"What", You frown, tilting your head. "How would you?."

"That cute lady in front of me, freezing over seeing me. It makes sense now. You know who I am. It's brave of you to even hold me here, you know? I commend your stupidity and the bravery", He sneers, as you watch the smug expression on his face.

You groan internally, before bringing down the knife. "Okay, just answer me these questions and then you can go back home and I can go back my home."

"Why should I?", He makes a face.

"Or else I am going to release your secrets on the internet"

Jungwon tilts his head, and parts his lips," What."

You thought you finally got to him so you asked your first question. "Okay, tell me the names of the people you have had intimate relationships with". You tap a button on your phone to record his answers.

He purses his lips," My mom...?".

You nod, before disbelief crosses over your eyes," Hold on. You fucked your mom!? That's messed up."

"Wait, you meant in that sense!? How was I supposed to know!? You didn't specify! Honestly, why are we here to talking about my sex details!? This is stupid", Jungwon feels crimson over his cheeks.

"Acting like a virgin, this guy....", You scoff.

"What do you mean by acting? I am actually a virgin!"

"Yeah whatever you say liar"

"Excuse me? But I am perfectly a virgin. I haven't even jerked off yet."

"Ok definitely a liar."

"I swear to god, when I get out of this, I will find you and kill you", He yells onto her face.

"Yeah like you can kill someone. But brief me me anyway about how you are going to kill me", You say and yawn, before looking at his file, reading over more details you can ask minister choi.

Jungwon lapse into silence for a while, before chuckling loudly. "Wait, who do you think I am?."

"Minister choi?"

"Oh god. Your stupidity and bravery makes sense now"

"Yeah yeah", You say, before a disappointed sigh leaves his lips, making you look back at him.

"You are a detective, aren't you? Looking for minister choi while he gets tortured in Mafia Yang's basement? You should open my hands and just go home."

"What do you mean? Tell me clearly", You demand.

"Call your boss and ask him what minister choi looks like, because I look nothing like that old bastard", Jungwon firmly says. "I am literally...a maf— you know what nevermind. But I am not your guy."

You were about to drag the knife back to his skin, before seeing a text message on your phone from Heeseung.

"I believe some photos have been misplaced by Sunghoon. To make sure, this is how mister choi looks like", you read, before you eyes follow over the next message, continuing to speak. "Also you probably see Yang Jungwon, the mafia leader's picture. Do not get confused, actually you probably won't, right?Good luck. Smiling face emoji."

You look up at the person, him being victim of your stupidity. You gulped, nervously laughing,"Um...so well I will treat you to a nice coffee, Mr. Yang. Would you like that?."

"Add the strawberry and chocolate cake with it then we have a deal, detective troublemaker."

#jungwon enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enha imagines #enhypen #jungwon #jungwon x reader #enhypen jungwon #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #heeseung enhypen #Spotify

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Give Me Something Good to Eat [Yandere Nikolai Gogol x Reader]

Title: Give Me Something Good to Eat [Yandere Nikolai Gogol x Reader]

Synopsis: Nikolai arranges for a special session of trick or treating for you... emphasis on trick.

For Horrorfest request:

hello!! could i please request trick or treating(with a deadly twist or something) with nikolai gogol from bsd?

Word count: 4059

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, torture, extreme graphic violence and gore (not against reader); a bit of vomit and throwing up; reader has a boyfriend;

“It’s so simple! All you have to do is say trick or treat at every door…” 

Nikolai gazed at you with his singular visible eye and a sweet, terrible grin on his face. He was decked out in an elaborate jester costume--though perhaps it was not so out of sorts with his ordinary clothing. 

Tonight he sported a purple and black concoction with dramatic patterns and bells sewn onto the sleeves. It was almost identical to the jester costume he made you wear tonight, except your bells were not on the sleeves, but on a collar he’d strapped around your neck. It made you feel, in turns, like a prisoner and a pet.

Perhaps, to him, you were both.

He snapped his fingers in front of your face, regaining your attention.

“Do pay attention, kukol'nyy, it would be so boring to repeat myself.”

You acknowledged him with a grimace that made the carefully applied face paint on your cheeks crinkle. The feel of it was stiff and sticky, but familiar--not just because he had a habit of dolling you up, but because it reminded you of the Halloween costumes you used to wear in childhood, always smeared with some kind of paint on your face.

“One,” he said, ticking up his fingers as he went on. “You have to knock on every door. Don’t be naughty and skip any!”  

The doors in question were not the doors of some neighborhood houses--you’re mildly grateful for that, considering the fact that the man in front of you was not above killing innocents --but the doors of a hallway in the compound where you were currently being kept. 

“Two,” he continued, flicking away a bit of hair from his forehead. “You have to say, ‘trick or treat.’” 

His expression seemed to take on a peculiar amusement, but you didn’t dare ask for an elaboration. Elaborations, you’d learned, were often disturbing. Or painful. Or both. 

“Three…” He hummed, and tapped his chin theatrically. “How about, have fun? Yes, that will do nicely!”

He clapped his hands together and thrust something into your arms, which you grabbed at instinctively. It was a large plastic bag with a Frankenstein pattern on it, the kind children carried around in droves on Halloween night, unless their parents gave them musty pillowcases instead. 

You stood, dumbly, until he gave you a nudge towards the hallway. Your legs obeyed the awful instructions your brain gave them, though your brain would have much rather run in the opposite direction. You knew this would not be some ordinary trick or treating. It couldn’t be, with the man behind you.

Or was he still…

Goosebumps sprinkled up your arm the moment you turned around. He was gone.

Fuck.

--

The hallway was dimly lit and bare, like every room in this compound except the one Gogol kept you in, which he’d draped in all sorts of mismatched blankets and decorations. You preferred the sparseness everywhere else, though, because at least it didn’t remind you of him.

You sighed. Nothing good would come of this. It made your stomach churn, but what else could you do? If you didn’t play his games, he hurt you. And you got the feeling that there were only so many times he would tolerate your refusals before he got far too annoyed to keep you around, no matter how much he seemed to enjoy punishing you for not obeying. 

It opened slowly, almost comically slow, like something out of a cheesy horror movie. 

So you swallowed against the tightness of your throat and knocked on the first door.

The door opened to reveal that Gogol stood there, and for a moment you thought--run--before he simply pulled out a large bowl heaping with candy. 

“Treat!” He said, beaming, and dropped a fistful of candy into the bag you were holding. His fingers lingered on your own, dancing across the top; the bells on his sleeves rang, a hollow sound in the still hallway.

And then the door shut.

If you had only been recently taken by him, you might have thought: this wasn’t so bad! Maybe he just wanted some Halloween fun. Maybe he would be content with silly trick or treating. 

But you weren’t so naive anymore. He knew it, too, which made you wonder why he bothered with such displays. Maybe he genuinely enjoyed doing a nice thing now and then. If handing you candy instead of, oh, making you tell him which of your friends you’d rather he kill was a “nice thing.” 

Or maybe he enjoyed pretending that you were lulled into a false sense of security before doing something awful. 

You knocked on the second door. It opened, and again you were struck by the almost comical nature of the creaking, but this time Gogol wasn’t standing there. There was only a muddy darkness, hiding everything but vague shapes and shadows inside the room. 

A smell came from the room. Something faint but distinct. Metallic and earthy with a sweet rot underneath. The smell had your innards feeling tight and light, a primal knowledge that made your senses start to prepare for what might be in store. 

“Treat or treat,” you said, breathy, to no one in particular.

And then Gogol’s voice called out jovially into the darkness: “Trick!”

Your stomach seemed to yank itself inward just as a light bulb was pulled on in the center of the room, one of those old fashioned things you usually only saw in warehouses and basements, complete with a dim, flickering light. 

But it wasn’t the light bulb that you focused on. No, no, no.

It was the scene in the center of the room, which your brain couldn’t fully comprehend at first. It was worse when it did finally catch up with what your eyes were visually processing, because instead of seeing vague blobs of red and black, you were able to genuinely see what was in front of you with awful clarity. 

There was a scarecrow in the center of the room, but it was immediately clear that the scarecrow was actually a corpse. Or part of one. The head was stuffed burlap, but the face--the skin of it--was real, stretched out and stitched on with slapdash stitches. 

The torso of the scarecrow was death-bloated underneath a plaid shirt, the skin all mottled, looking like it might begin to ooze all sorts of biles and pus at any moment. You could practically smile at what was hiding underneath all that bloat, stretching the stomach, begging to be released and spill onto the floor. 

Acidic, earthy rot, tinged with something your nose processed as sweet.

There was nothing sweet about the scene in front of you.

Your eyes raked in the rest of the creation. 

The hands were blackened, hanging slack. Maybe he’d been tied up until Gogol made him into this morbid decoration. Did he die fast or slow? Gogol could make both types of death sickeningly cruel, you’d found, so perhaps it didn’t matter. 

There were no feet hanging out of the trousers of the scarecrow. Did Gogol cut off the legs and leave them for the dogs to eat? A sick thought, the result of being all too familiar with corpses by now, came: maybe the corpse was old enough that the legs had simply fallen off when Gogol picked it up. Rotting flesh wasn’t terribly hard to tear apart. Under the right conditions, it might come off like pulled pork. 

Maybe so.

But it was the head of the scarecrow that interested you most, or rather, the face. The human face, dead skin, pulled and contorted over the farm-friendly burlap sack. Cartoonish white and blue eyes were painted underneath the holes cut where eyeballs had, no doubt, once rested.

Somehow you could sense an expression of agony on that face, although the lips were stitched shut to resemble a smile. If there had been real eyes underneath it, they would have been wide open, pupils blown, darting to-and-fro in a search for mercy. 

There was no such thing as true mercy once Gogol came into your life. 

The face skinned and sewn onto the burlap probably would not have been recognizable, except for one distinguishing feature that remained: a large mole on the cheek which almost resembled two moles side-by-side.  

The corpse was your boss. Well. Your former boss, in more ways than one. 

You’d hated him (but you didn’t want him dead) because he liked to pinch your ass and suggest you come to his office before you left work, an offer you never took him up on.

Maybe you’d complained about this in earshot of Gogol, when he was stalking you. Maybe Gogol saw your boss do one of these things. It was hard to say. Either way, he’d been targeted. Was he more deserving of death than the others in your life who had fallen victim to the monstrous jester who took you captive? You pushed such thoughts away--they were useless. 

Food lurched from your stomach into your esophagus as you turned around to leave, but you swallowed against it. He wasn’t the first person Gogol had killed and brought before you, like a cat leaving a dead bird on his owner’s kitchen floor. 

He probably wouldn’t be the last, either.

You shut the door behind you and found yourself mildly relieved at the loss of the smell.

There was nothing to do but keep going. 

You knocked on the third door, but you couldn’t muster up the energy to say trick or treat when it opened. You’d already seen a horror tonight, so what else might be in store? Thoughts slid into one ear and you forced them quickly out the other, flashes of the corpse of your friend, then your father, a favorite professor…

Someone pinched your arm, hard, and you gasped. A whisper of his voice tickled your neck. 

“Play by the rules,” the voice murmured, before whisking itself away.

Your mouth was dry and sticky as you forced the words out:

“Trick or treat.”

You didn’t hear your own startled scream over the sound of the party popper being launched in your face, but you did see Gogol’s face, grinning, laughing, as you fell back on the ground with a hard thump to your ass. 

“Trick!” He said. He looked down on you, eyes appraising, and then the door slammed quickly shut. 

As you gathered yourself up, hand hanging limply onto the candy bag, you thought: only two more doors. Only two more doors and tonight can be over.  But it didn’t reassure you, because there was no way to be reassured when you were in Gogol’s control. All it did was keep you from collapsing, mentally and physically, before the night was finished.

Your fingers trembled when you knocked on the fourth door. 

“Trick or treat.” Your voice was louder, but shook, all the same.

The door creaked open on its own into the darkness, which was the first sign, really, that it was going to be something awful. 

Another corpse, put on display? Maybe this time it would be someone you cared about. A police detective who reassured you that they would catch your stalker or your best friend from elementary school whose picture was in one of your photo albums or your childhood crush, all grown up and rotted. 

But when a light switch somewhere in the room was pressed on and the space was flooded with bright lights from the overhead fixtures, it was not a corpse displayed plainly or artistically or horrifically. 

It was not a corpse at all.

It was your boyfriend, handcuffed to a chair in the center of the room, a duct-tape gag slapped over his mouth.  Like something out of a horror movie.

It took him a few moments to recognize you, but when he did, his eyes widened and he began to speak muffled words from behind his gag. Begging you for help. Telling you to stay away. You couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter, because every instinct in your body was telling you to run to him.

Stupid body, of course, but you couldn’t help yourself, despite knowing it was a stupid move. You rushed forward, heart pumping, tossing the bag of candy to the ground as you fumbled with the handcuffs around your boyfriend’s wrists and ankles.

“Don’t worry,” you said, words full of sweet reassurance that you had no right to give. “It’ll be okay. I’ll get you out of here. I love you, I missed you,” and your voice cracked on those last words. You never thought you’d see him again--alive. 

And then the door slammed shut behind you.

“Trick,” murmured Gogol, who was now standing in front of the closed door. Though only for a moment, because he flashed a grin and began to approach you almost comically slow. Step, step, step. Taking his sweet time so he could savor the moment and terrify you even further, no doubt.

“Please don’t,” you said--stupidly, like everything you’d just told your boyfriend. You had no right to beg Nikolai Gogol when you knew it was fruitless. But you did it anyway, because you were in love, because you were scared, because you wanted to save him. “Please, please, Nikolai--”

By the time you were begging him silly, Gogol was standing in front of you, hands on his hips. He pouted and looked cross. “No, no, no, you don’t beg for him. That’s not how this should go.” 

He sighed and brushed past you, forcing you to step to the side while he stood in front of your bound boyfriend. He casually reached out and ripped the tape from your boyfriend’s mouth.

“You beg her,” he said, addressing your boyfriend. The space around his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Go on.”

Your jaw began to tremble when your boyfriend slowly turned his head towards you--and then  you saw his own jaw trembling before he began to speak, words almost slurred, helpless, horrified. He’d never come up against such things before.

“Please help me,” he said, eyes wide, mouth red and raw from the tape. His cheeks were glossy with tears. “Please help me get… get out of this,” he continued. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell with his increasingly frantic breathing.

In front of him, Gogol sighed. Impatient. Annoyed.

“No, no, no,” he said, and the teasing drawl that crept in his words had your arms prickled with gooseflesh. “You shouldn’t beg her to help you. You need to beg her… not to kill you.”

The words came from your lips and the lips of your captive boyfriend at the same time: “What?”

 Gogol didn’t bother looking at your boyfriend anymore. He turned to you, giggling, voice choking with laughter as he repeated his awful words.

“He’s going to beg you not to kill him! Isn’t that fun?”

You knew better than to argue, to insult, to fight. But this was 

“I would never hurt him. Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. You’re sick.” 

Bells jingled--yours and his--when he leaned forward and grabbed the silky top of your jester costume and pulled you close to him.

“I’m not.” He murmured softly in your ear, smiling against it. “I’m really not.” 

He grasped one of your hands and slowly peeled back your fingers. An odd gesture. But then he reached into his pocket and put something in the flat of your palm. You didn’t realize what it was at first, because it was such an impossible thing to see there. And yet there it was, in your grasp:

A knife. A big long kitchen knife. 

There’s some primal part of your brain that shrieked--STAB THE BASTARD--but you weren’t fast enough for it. You heard the noise and felt the pull and before you could do anything, you saw a whirlpool forming behind your boyfriend.

You didn’t know what it meant, until you felt Nikolai grab your arm and saw a matching whirling portal in front of you then oh, God in heaven, you did know--

“No--” 

Your arm went through the portal, static and tingling. Gogol reached behind your boyfriend and grasped your fingers, keeping them wrapped around the knife as your arm hung out of the second portal.

The worst part wasn’t the realization of what was happening. 

It wasn’t the way that your boyfriend made some vague, confused sounds. Questions, all tinged with fear and the sound of him desperately trying to break the cuffs keeping him to the chair.

No. The worst part was the way that you couldn’t take your eyes off Nikolai Gogol, all painted up for Halloween, smiling at you with pure glee. 

“Ready for the trick?” He asked, voice lilting. 

You shook your head slowly. It felt like you were moving through something sticky and heavy, like syrup.

“Too bad!” His grin flashed white, practically stretching across his face, as he gripped your hand and moved his own, forcing your hand to bring the knife down into the soft flesh of your boyfriend’s side.

You felt it.  You felt the way the knife sunk into his flesh, like stabbing a thick cut of meat or a hard melon. But there was a softness to it. A wet sound.

And the noise--the noise your boyfriend made. It wasn’t the noise a person would make. It was an animal sound, a cry that forced its way out of his throat without a care.

Your free arm gripped at the shoulder of your captive one, tugging and tugging. You knew it wouldn’t budge, but at least if you tried, you could take some of the blame away. You could pretend that it wasn’t your fault that he was here. That he was tied up. That he was being stabbed to death with a knife.

The bells on Nikolai’s sleeve rang when he tugged against your wrist, pulling the knife and your captive fist away. Blood oozed from the wound, staining against the light color of your boyfriend’s shirt. Nikolai cooed appreciatively. You felt the world spin.

And then he brought your hand down again, this time into his stomach. This time, your boyfriend squealed--like a hog, you thought, and you hated yourself for it--as your captor forced you to pull the knife upwards, dragging against something that kept tugging against the knife. Organs or intestines, maybe. 

The wound bled more than the first. You found yourself staring at the blood, at the flesh you could see through his cut shirt, split open, almost flapping. 

“Please…”

Oh. Oh no.

Your boyfriend bubbled out the words from his sobbing lips. Each one stung you like a hornet.

Behind him, Gogol giggled.

“Please don’t kill me.” He said your name, then, he said your name and looked at you and begged you not to end his life.

“I--I’m sorry,” you mumbled. You wished he wasn’t here. You wanted him back home in his bed, fuck, you wouldn’t even care if he got over you and was dating someone else. You didn’t want him here, mixed up in all this, watching you in horror as he was stabbed by your own hand.  You swallowed hard against the awful tightness in your throat. 

Gogol’s hand moved your own until the knife was at your boyfriend’s throat. He dragged it lightly across, and a thin rivulet of blood dripped down from the blade. 

Your boyfriend hung his head low, though all it did was press the blade deeper into his skin. “Then stop fucking hurting me! Please…”  

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, voice choked. 

Didn’t your boyfriend understand? You didn’t have a fucking choice. 

Which is why you could do nothing as Nikolai gripped your fingers and brought the knife down with a renewed flourish into your boyfriend’s shoulder. His side. His back. 

Again.

And again.

And again.

And again, until his shirt was soaked with blood and his cries were feeble and wheezing. No more pleas for mercy. No more begging. Just awful grunting sounds, whining, the sounds an animal makes when they are at the end of their life. 

Gogol snapped the fingers of his other hand and you dully looked up at him. 

“Mmm, this is getting a bit repetitive, don’t you think, kukol'nyy?”

You didn’t respond. If you opened your mouth, you thought, you might just projectile vomit all over the scene. You didn’t want to throw up on your boyfriend, you thought, stupidly. That would be mean. 

If Gogol minded  your silence, he said nothing. Instead he hummed and pivoted your wrist just above your boyfriend’s face. His weakened, weeping eyes suddenly went wide. The pupils were like blown glass.

“I love you,” you said, pitifully. You hoped he didn’t hear you, because he didn’t say a thing. It was better to think he didn’t hear you anymore, but could only focus on his own agony. Better than that the thought that he heard you and didn’t care, that he hated you, that he blamed you for all this.

And then the knife plunged directly into his eye socket. And then further, into his head. Into his skull. Into his brain. He made a sound, surely he did--but maybe it came from your own mouth and his jaw only hung slack and silent. A guttural cry, the end of a life.

The knife stuck when Gogol tried to pull it out, so he had to yank your hand back with some force. Your boyfriend’s eyeball was stuck to the tip of the blade. Visceral gore stuck behind it. Bits of brain, perhaps, if you were to get technical.

Gogol released your fingers, which had long since begun to throb and ache, and you dropped the knife on the ground. The portals disappeared and your arm was back to yourself, muscles aching from the fervent exercise required to brutally stab someone to death.

You fell to the ground and had the presence of mind to whirl around and fling open the door, so that when  you fell to your knees and opened your mouth to cry, the vomit that came flying out was in the hallway and not in front of your boyfriend’s brutalized corpse. 

When nothing but bile came up, the sobs were finally given time to shine. Ugly things that wracked your chest and pushed snot and remnants of vomit bubbling out your nose. 

Eventually, the door opened, and Gogol’s footsteps came to rest beside you. He pushed at your side with his foot. You thought about the knife going into your boyfriend. 

“Don’t be lazy,” he teased, as if he didn’t just force you to commit murder. “Only one more door! It’s almost midnight!” Something dropped next to you and it took you a few moments to look and see what it was: the bag of candy.

Ah. Trick or treating. You had to finish it, didn’t you?  You… didn’t have a choice.

And so you forced your leaden body upwards, sidestepping your own throw-up, to get to the final door.

Your arm that was finally your own again reached up to knock on the door, and you had to pause. Your hand was covered in blood. Dried, globby. Sticky. 

You knocked anyway. 

“Trick or treat,” you said hoarsely. You could still taste vomit in your teeth. 

The door opened slowly, but you realized that you no longer had the ability to worry about what was inside. It couldn’t be worse than what you just went through, so it didn’t matter.

But there were no corpses or tied up loved-ones. Only Gogol, who smiled sweetly at you, and grabbed the belled collar at your neck to pull you close to him. You jingled with the motion. 

“Treat!” 

He kissed you, pressing his mouth against yours, moaning at whatever taste he found there. Perhaps bits of blood that had spattered onto your lips overrode the acidity of vomit in your mouth.

He tasted like candy, chocolate and sour gummy worms. He must have been popping them all night. 

When he pulled away, you noticed the matching spatters of blood on his cheek. What a pair you made--two jesters covered in the blood of your loved one. Sour candy and horror-borne vomit.

“Happy Halloween, my kukol'nyy,” he whispered, before pressing a smooch to your nose. 

#yandere nikolai gogol #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere gogol #yandere #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest #my foot hurts so there's violence. that's how this works apparently.

[multifariousqueer]

Don’t be late pt.2

GO READ PT.1 IF YOU HAVENT

A/n: Ahhhh I hope y’all enjoy this as much as I did. Lmk if I should write something else. As always, keep requesting

Warnings: none, miles being nervous, spoilers ig, your dad being a dad

So what was his marvelous plan? He was just gonna swing by his house, web his jacket and shorts, and swing over as fast as he could; the issue with this plan? He would’ve been 3 minutes late and he couldn’t take that. He could text you but your words rang through his head like a bell:

“don’t. be. late."

It was the one thing you asked of him and he couldn’t even do that. Reveal his identity? He didn’t even tell his own parents, let alone yours; forget it. Maybe just go to your window, web the clothes, change on the fire escape, swing down and ring your doorbell? That seemed like the best plan in the moment. So, Miles carried out the act; he was whimsical, quick and still managed to make it the only issue? He was a minute late.

“Where is he?” you mumbled to yourself

Suddenly, you heard a knock at the door and your parents voice:

“Hello, young man. How can I help you?” your parent asked

“Uhm, I am here for, Y/n. We’re dating and I was supposed to meet you” Miles said, nervously.

“Why did I add in the dating part?” Miles questioned in his head

“Oh! Well, hi; I’m Y/n’s mom. Don’t mind (y/d/n dads name), can be a bit mean” your mom answered

“It’s okay. It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Miles” Miles said, his voice still trembling

“Well nice to meet you, Miles! Y/n has told us so much about you, you’re all she talks about” Your mom said

“Mom!” you said

“Hey, Miles. You can set your jacket down in the closet” you said

“Okay” he obliged

Miles began to take off his shoes out of habit when your dad jumped in:

“woah dude, what are you doing?"

“Oh! It’s customary to remove your shoes in my house. It shows you have respect for someones house by not tracking dirt in” Miles informed

“oh. well don’t get too comfortable here, we don’t do that.” Your dad said, sternly

“Yes sir. I’m sorry.” Miles said, feeling embarrassed

“Y/d/n! Don’t be so mean to the boy.” your mom scolded

“He’s the one taking off his shoes and shit.” your dad said.

“Dad!” you started

“It’s okay, y/n. I mean it.” Miles reassured

The rest of the meal and day went well. Miles gave your mom the flowers, he reintroduced himself to your dad and gained a bit of his respect, and he managed to make them both laugh. You thought the meal couldn’t get any better until your dad brought out your favorite game:

“Let’s play Uno"

“Oh yay! I love uno but someone always beats me at it” your mom said looking at you

“Well what can I say? I’m the champ” you said, proudly

“Miles, are you good at Uno?” your dad asked, patting him on the neck

“yeah I’m pretty okay at it. Y/n always beats me tho” he replied with a smirk

“Hey maybe we can team up on her” your dad laughed

“Hey! No fair!” you laughed

“you know we’re kidding, y/n” your mom said before gesturing to Miles and your dad to team up

The cards were dealt and before you knew it, you had been down to your last two cards. Just when you thought you were about to sweep and win again, Miles puts down a +4 which you prepared for but what you weren’t expecting was for your mom and dad to put one down going back to miles who whispered an “I’m sorry” to you and put down another +4.

Your heart dropped in horror; you know were forced to pick up 20 cards. You stared in disbelief while Miles smirked and your parents picked up the cards and slid them over to you. You slammed your hand on the cards and slowly dragged them over to you.

“Hijo de puta” you cursed under your breath

“Hey don’t curse because you got +20’d” Miles laughed with a smug smile

As your entire family was laughing at you, Miles froze. You knew this look all too well because this was the look he gets when his senses go off. You looked in his eyes and followed his gaze to a man in a full black attire with spots, staring at you. Your breath hitched and your family took notice

“Is everything alright, y/n?"

“Mhm” you said, your mouth becoming dry

“I have to go. I am so sorry, something came up with my parents” Miles said

“Oh okay! It was nice having you, feel free to come by anytime” Your mom said as Miles rushed outside, stripping on the way

“What was his deal?” your dad asked

“His parents needed him for something” you lied

“They couldn’t wait until I showed him my rare coin collection?” your dad chuckled

All you could do was laugh and smile at your dad.

“Oh look! It’s spider-man!” your mom exclaimed

You snapped your head in that direction, earning a crack from your neck and you saw Miles getting rocked while the man in black escaped into a portal. You texted Miles:

You: Is everything alright?

Miles: notreally

You: Can I help?

Miles: nosorry

Miles: I’m gonna be gone for a while. This guy is bigger than I thought. In case I don’t come back, Mami; I had a great time and I love you

You: Miles don’t say that you’re gonna come back

You: You always do

You: Miles?

seen

#mcu fanfiction #miles morales headcannons #miles x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales #miles!spiderman #across the spiderverse fanart #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse spoilers #into the spider verse #spiderman #spiderverse #marvel #hes so cute #foryou

[phantoms-lair]

Fredogawa - Enter the PizzaPlex

@pixlokita you wanted more of this AU so Happy Birthday

((From my DCxFNAF:SB))

((Also I never posted part 2, so, uh...here?))

"So we are stuck here?" Freddy asked.

"For now." Conan looked annoyed. They were supposed to catch their connecting flight to Hawaii here, but a storm over the ocean was making it impossible. The clear blue skies around them just made the reason seem so incongruous. "Thankfully we're already in the states so we won't have our visas checked or anything. Especially since you look mostly Caucasian and we both speak perfect English."

"Your accent might need a bit more practice," Freddy said gently. "I have the advantage of switching my language module. Well, there is nothing we can do about the weather." Freddy shrugged gamely. "Why don't we 'do the tourist thing' until a flight is available to meet with your Great Aunt and Uncle."

That's one thing Conan appreciated about him. As an entertainment bot, he knew how to commit to a bit. They were impossible far away from anyone who might know them, but he kept their identities, as well as his parents identities relevant to theirs, up.

"Sure Dad. What's around here?" he asked, also staying in character.

"Let's see." Freddy pulled out his phone and did a quick search. "Oh." His entire demeanor fell.

"What's wrong?" Conan asked concerned. He'd seen few things get under his 'dad's' skin like this.

"The biggest tourist spot in this area is...a Freddy Fazbear's PizzaPlex."

Yeah, that would do it. "We don't have to go, I'm sure there are other things we could do."

"No, I - I want to see. what it could have been like? How many people get the chance to see what might have happened if their lives had gone according to plan. And this one is even bigger than the one in Japan. Here I - The other Freddy has a whole band. It is strange and frightening, but I want to see."

Conan wasn't sure if he could say the same. If he could see a different Kudo Shinichi who'd never been shrunk, never had to lie to Ran...all in all he'd just rather not. But this was Freddy's choice, not his. "Sure Dad, sounds like fun." He gave Freddy his "I'm a little kid smile, which Freddy returned with a genuine one.

The Pizzaplex wasn't far from the air pad, and when they got there both stared at the building for a moment. 'Bigger' was an understatement. The Pizzaplex in Beika was the size of a good sized restaurant. This was the size of a mall.

"Fazbear Entertainment must be doing well in America." Conan commented.

Freddy nodded. "Shall we?"

Conan held his hand, slipping his face into that of a little kid excited for an afternoon with his father. They walked through the giant glass doors and that where everything went wrong.

They had barely stepped foot into the Pizzaplex when Conan froze in place. Freddy did a quick scan of his son and noticed in addition to his paling skin his heartrate had skyrocketed and his breathing had quickened to a worrying degree.

He knelt down next to his son. "Conan, are you okay?"

He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't for Conan to grab onto him like a koala, gripping his clothes in fear while small sniffles escaped from him. None of this was standard Conan behavior.

"Is your son alright?" a concerned lady in a Fazbear uniform asked.

"I think he's overwhelmed." he responded, wondering why the woman suddenly looked surprised." He stood, holding Conan to him. "I'll take him to the parking lot and see if that helps."

Thankfully as soon as he exited the doors Conan's death grip on him relaxed, thought it wasn't gone completely. His breathing evened out and his pulse rate dropped to normal.

"Hey there, superstar. You okay?" Freddy asked, rubbing Conan's back soothingly.

"No." Conan croaked. He took several deep breaths before he continued. "I...I've trained my detective instincts a lot."

"You have," Freddy agreed.

"And I've gotten them to the point where if someone's feeling a large amount of bloodlust or malice I can tell. Not who, and it wouldn't be permissible evidence in court even if I did know who, but...I don't feel it everytime but when I do it's never wrong."

That didn't sound like something that should be physically possible to Freddy, but now wasn't the time for that. "Is that what happened when you entered the building?"

But Conan shook his head. "No, it was.." Haibara used smell as her example, and Freddy was made to be a musician. "Think of it like a sound. Usually when I pick up on malice it's like a sudden note out of silence, a stinger on a violin. It's shocking and I have to pay attention to it. Walking into the Pizzaplex..." Conan gulped. "It was like stepping out of a sensory deprivation chamber into a cacophony. Loud horns, screeching violins, hands slamming on a keyboard. A thousand overwhelming notes of malice, death, violence. And they just kept playing. I've never felt anything even remotely resembling that."

"Do you think something bad is going to happen?" Freddy asked gravely.

"I think," Conan gulped, trying to make sense of the whirling feelings going on inside him. "I think something bads been happening for a while."

"Can we tell to the police?"

"No. We have no evidence other than me having a panic attack, which they'll be even less likely to listen to due to my age. And if they look into either of us they might realize we entered the country illegally."

Freddy thought a moment. Then he sighed. He wanted nothing more than to lick up his son, turn his back, and leave this place forever. But the thought of leaving victims, most likely children, made his servos twist. And he knew his son. Knew if he tried to leave Conan would just turn around and sneak back in to handle it himself. And the thought of Conan going there alone if this was anything like was happened at his Pizzaplex..."We are leaving."

Conan opened his mouth to argue.

"For now." Freddy appended. "We will get food and rest and give you time to recover. We will return shortly before the last big show. If we cannot find anything to give to the police, we will hide until closing in one of the recharge chambers. Though I have been altered to no longer require them, I should still register as a Fazbear Entertainment Animatronic and you would not be harmed in my stomach hatch. We can investigate after it is clear. The Pizzaplex is hugely busy. If something bad is ongoing, it will not be happening during opening hours."

"Thank you," Conan whispered.

#Fredogawa and Son #Detective Conan #FNAF:SB #Ghost Writing #Imagine the systems confusion when it reads a Freddy in a recharge chamber AND a Freddy onstage. #Very Suspicious #Better try and put them in Safe Mode just in case #:P

[blueicequeen19]

My Bloody Valentine

Warnings: threats of non con, stalking, kidnapping, obsession, judgmental parents, forced breeding, this is not a nice fic 🚩

Rafe froze from his spot on the stairs, listening as yours and your parents' voices grew louder and louder as you fought. His jaw clenched, teeth practically shattering as you so easily gave into their demands.

"You will go back to school and you will not see anymore of that Cameron boy!" Your father shouts. Rafe snarls and he hears your scoff in response.

"We already broke up! We aren't together anymore!" You cry, a chair scooting and signaling the end of their family dinner.

"Well make sure he knows that because he's still hanging around. You know how I feel about the Cameron's. Rafe is not good enough for you and you're not to associate yourself with a known drug addict and a leech." Rafe's blood was already boiling but now he wanted to hurt someone as he creeped back down the hallway and to your bedroom.

"Jesus Christ, Dad. Do you know how you sound? I'm an adult!"

"Then start acting like it! You want all these nice, flashy things but you haven't done anything that shows me you've earned it. I can just as easily take away your sports car and your private school and your credit cards so straighten up. Get your shit together and get rid of that loser."

Rafe slips back in your room, shaking with rage as he leans up against the door. He was tempted to trash the room in an attempt to let off some steam but then he’s give himself away. He looks over just as your phone lights up on the charger.

Curiosity gets the best of him as he picks it up. You never went anywhere without. You were obsessed with your phone and never let it out of your sight. Rafe couldn’t pass up this opportunity.

He almost breaks the device when he finds your messages and sees that you're still talking to not one but two of your exes. You’d actually received a dick pic from JJ, the worthless Pogue. Rafe hated all the Pogues but especially JJ because he’d already had you once. And now he was trying to have you again.

Rafe quickly deletes their threads before an idea hits him. With a smirk on his face, he changes his name in your phone to your ex's name, clearing your chat history so you're not suspicious. Then he blocks and deletes their numbers, snapchat included.

Rafe takes out his own phone and sends you a text, telling you to meet him in the pool house out back. His brain was moving a mile a minute, coming up with a plan that no one could fucking ruin as he pockets his phone and slips back out the window. He's barely from sight when you emerge angrily in your bedroom, slamming the door as more shouts meet your back.

Rafe watches as you strip into your sleep clothes, showing off your delicious curves and fuckable tits before looking at your phone. Your face lights up and Rafe is practically seeing red. Did you get that excited when you knew it was him texting you? He was going to give you something to be excited about.

Rafe climbs back down the tree and makes his way over to the pool house, slipping in through another unlocked window so he can get ready. He finds some duct tape and takes it upstairs to the bedroom. After tossing his shirt and shoes, he sits down in the chair in the corner of the room, waiting for you.

Twenty minutes pass before you finally slip in through the front door. Rafe listens to the careful click of the door shutting and your soft footsteps on the stairs. He could barely contain his excitement as the door slowly pushed open. The first thing he noticed was that you'd changed into a skimpy pink lingerie set with hearts over your nipples, probably losing your clothes in the hallway, and you'd applied heavy make up. The second thing was that you couldn't fully see in the dark because you sauntered up to him without a care in the world.

"I'm so glad you texted me. I need this." You purr, coming to a stop in front of him. The darkness completely conceals his identity until he leans forward, the moonlight shining in just enough that you can make out his stoic face and angry eyes.

"Rafe." You gasp, stumbling backwards. His foot shoots out, tripping you so you fall backwards onto the carpet.

"Miss me, baby?" Rafe sneers, lunging forward and pinning you to the floor. You slap at him but he's too strong, easily manhandling you onto your stomach and yanking your arms behind your back.

"How do you have JJ's phone? What the fuck are you doing?" You hiss, thrashing as he duct tapes your wrists together. Rafe fists your hair, shoving your cheek against the carpet as he brings his lips to your ear.

"Why are you still talking to both your exes? My cock not enough for you?" Rafe snarls into your face. Being this close to you had his restraint wavering. The way your perfume filled his head and how your body squirmed beneath his. He wanted to eat you alive. And he would. You always made him reckless and impulsive. There were so many things he wanted to do to you and for you that it made him incredibly dangerous.

"You went through my fucking phone? Get off of me!" You shout, thrashing wildly until his sickening laugh rings in your ears and a chill washes over you.

"Did you know that you can easily remove an IUD at home?" Rafe smirks against your ear, his hand still holding your head down against the floor. Panic sets in and you open your mouth to scream when tape is suddenly slapped over your mouth, silencing you.

"That you can get pregnant as soon as it comes out?" Tears fill your eyes as Rafe sits back on his heels, letting his hands roam over the tight lingerie you were wearing. He reaches your thong and wraps his finger around the elastic, tugging it back before letting it snap harshly against your skin. You whimper, terror and dread filling your system. You'd never seen Rafe like this. He didn't take the break up well but this was different.

"They'd never be able to keep us apart once you were pregnant with my child. They'd have to let us be together. We could get married and everything would be better." Rafe lifts up and rolls you onto your back before perching back on his heels while still straddling you.

You whimpered, your hands painfully smashed beneath you in the carpet as he brushed your hair from your face with an eerie smile, stroking your cheek like a prized possession.

You shook your head, eyes practically begging him not to do this but he only gave a sick smile before letting his eyes focus on your breasts that were spilling out of the too tight lingerie. He licks his lips like he's just been presented with a tasty dessert, his pupils dilating until his eyes are almost black. You wiggle beneath him as he leans down, running his tongue up your cleavage and the side of your throat.

"I forgot to tell you,” Rafe whispers, giving your breast a hard squeeze, “Happy Valentine’s day, baby."

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #rafe smut #rafe outer banks #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #dark content #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #tw noncon

[melodygatesauthor]

Chapter 13: Inner Demons

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Edited by: @whatthefishh - Special thank you to @moonknightly for assisting with some technicalities in this chapter.

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Chapter Summary

Steven learns some devastating news. You feel more confused than ever.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu (as a deity), talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded, minor mentions of alcohol addiction and depression.

Word Count: 2.9k

----

When Steven woke up on the Monday following his birthday, he didn’t think that his entire world would blow up the way it did, more than it already had before that day. He thought that he’d already experienced the worst day of his life on the day a rift was torn between the two of you. He was wrong.

He still avoided Moonbean Coffee like the building alone would put him in a straight jacket. He still had to walk by it on the way to his classroom though. Every time he passed by it there was an unrivaled pain in his gut that he couldn’t easily shake. He looked at his reflection in the window. The way the panes sat gave Steven the perfect view at both Marc and Jake. He scowled at them and continued his walk.

He hated seeing you. He hated sitting at his desk, watching you walk through the door in your pretty clothes and perfect face. He hated that he couldn’t look forward to seeing you in his office later just so he could kiss you, and be close to you. He still dreamt about you all the time. He especially loved the dream he had on the night of his birthday, where he had you outside on the hood of his…well he could tell it wasn’t his…but a car. Your eyes were so full of love when you looked at him in his dreams. Sometimes he wished he could live in there.

Now your eyes were staring at your laptop screen. He could tell that you were trying so hard to keep them there, trying so hard not to meet his gaze. You finally did look at him though, when he reminded everyone of the next big assignment due…midterms. You’d forgotten, he could see it plain as day on your face. It was like you were begging him silently to take it back. Given everything he’d put you through, it was no wonder you weren’t prepared. He failed you as a man, and as a professor.

You remembered the substitute professor mentioning the midterm assignment once…was it twice? You sighed in a frustrated huff. The sub could’ve mentioned it a hundred times and you would’ve forgotten. Your mind wasn’t on school in the slightest. You’d been so wrapped up in Steven, the late night rendezvous, and his return to school, that you’d completely let the essay due on the renaissance slip your mind.

It was straight to the library for you once class was over. No way in hell were you going to be able to focus in your dorm room, nor were you going to have the resources you would need in order to get your research done. You didn’t even have a topic picked out yet. You couldn’t fail this class, not after you’d told your parents that you would get tutoring and do well in history this year.

You sat down in the back corner of the library, as you often did, pulling out your laptop before resting your face in your hands. You felt drained; emotionally, mentally, even intellectually. Spring break was right around the corner, but it couldn’t come soon enough. You needed the mental reset to get yourself back on track. You needed to move on from him somehow. You knew that much was true, you’d known it for a while. 

It helped that he’d been more distant over the last few weeks. You felt like you could break things off easier now, and it might not hurt as much as the initial blow when he broke it off in his office. That didn’t mean that it was going to be easy…it just meant that you were finally ready to move on. At least, that’s how you felt at that moment. 

You let out a heavy sigh. This was it. You were too smart for all of this nonsense. You and your parents were putting too much into your schooling for you to let it all fall apart over…whatever was still going on between you and Steven. It was time for you to actually move on. It was time for you to let go, despite still feeling some love for him, and despite the fact that he had taken so much from you and hurt you the way he did.

It was that simple. You would just let things go back to normal. The next time he texted you to meet outside, you would ignore it. You were happy with your decision, but when you lowered your hands from your face, he was standing there, looking nervous with his hands clenched into balls in front of him. You wondered if he knew that he did things like that, and you wondered if he knew how effortlessly cute it was. You just wanted to kiss that wrinkled spot between his upturned brow. So much for letting him go.

“Hey…hi erm…” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

He was feeling a little bit of regret wash over him after approaching you. He shouldn’t have done that. Both Jake and Marc were practically screaming at him to stop, both for different reasons, but telling him to stay away from you all the same. He was shoving them back again, his desire to comfort you and help you outweighting their shouting in his mind. Steven was a little surprised by your expression though. You didn’t look angry, or even sad as he thought you might. You looked…confused.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked in a harsh whisper, trying to make sure that no one in the library would hear you speaking to him.

He looked surprised at your response, furrowing his brow and stuffing one of his hands in his pocket. His jaw dropped, and he started stammering to find the words to say. He looked around, making sure no one was there before he continued.

“I-I…well…I could see that you were a-a little taken aback when I reminded everyone of the paper so I thought…if we are in a public setting I wouldn’t mind still tutoring you if you really need–”

“Steven, what the fuck are you talking about?” You looked around the library, panicked.

You thought back to the texts he’d sent you just over a week ago:

Steven: Hey love, I’m coming back to school tomorrow. I think it’s time. Make sure not to speak to me or even come near me, alright?

Steven: Can’t even have you asking for help with class. Just pretend you don’t know me at all if you want this to continue.

“You’re still my student, I still have a responsibility to help you. If we’re in a public place it will force us to keep our hands to ourselves. If you even still like me that way. I’m not saying you do, I’m not sayin’ that. Probably should’ve tutored you in public in first place now that I’m thinkin’–”

“You told me to pretend I didn’t know you, first of all and second, why would you think I don’t like you when…” you looked around and lowered your voice further, “when we were just with each other last night?”

He sniffed out a laugh, narrowing his eyes in confusion. You saw his brow furrow as if he had no idea what you were talking about. He shook his head like he was trying to understand what you were saying, as though you were speaking a language foreign to him. Then you saw the complete shift in his expression, as though a huge realization hit him. He stepped back, covering his mouth in his hand.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the–

“I’ve gotta go,” he said suddenly, leaving the library quickly, leaving you more confused than you’d ever felt.

“Steven…what the hell was she talking about…‘with each other last night’?” Marc asked, voice full of anger.

Steven didn’t answer. He was shaking, trying hard to keep from falling over on his wobbling legs. He’d never felt like this before, such anger, dread, and panic rushing through his veins like a doctor had given him an emotional cocktail in a syringe. Adrenaline forced his hands to tremble, he noticed it when he opened the door to the outside.

Nothing good could come from him screaming at the other two while he stormed out of the building. He didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself, despite the panic building inside his chest. How he made it to his flat in one piece was beyond his understanding. He was still shaking uncontrollably when he tried to get the key in the door handle. He dropped them loudly in the hall. He thought he heard one of his kind neighbors ask if he was alright as they exited their own flat, but his hearing was like white noise.

The moment he stepped inside, he slammed the door behind himself and he dropped to the floor. He buried his face in his hands, and let the pain surge through him. This couldn’t be. This couldn’t be true. How could this happen? Steven had never hated himself, and the men inside his head so much. He yelled out, slapping his hand on the floor.

“Steven! Have you been seeing her behind our BACK?!” Marc yelled, forcing his way to the front in place of Steven. He stood up, walking over to the three-way mirror to face his alters. “Answer me!”

Steven looked at Marc with the utmost disdain Marc had ever seen his alter muster.

“Wasn’t me…” 

A tear trickled down Steven’s cheek. Marc could feel the rage inside of him. This was unusual for Steven, even in his angriest moments. Steven thought back to last night. The ‘dreams’ he and Marc had been having; you bent over various parts of a car they didn’t recognize; the way you looked at them in their dreams, like something was off about the way they were talking to you, or the way they were acting.

“Jake.” Both Marc and Steven said, looking at Jake’s panel in the reflection.

Marc grabbed onto the mirror. It trembled under his grip. Jake didn’t let much bother him, or shake his usual calm demeanor, but the other two were glaring at him. It wasn’t uncommon for Marc to hold a look of aggravation, but Steven…Steven looking at him that way made him feel an insurmountable wave of guilt like never before.

“Are you guys going to let me explain or are you going to cut me off and yell at me the second I start talkin–”

“How dare you.” Steven said and Jake threw his arms up in frustration at the interruption. “You knew I was suffering, going through this…this…break up, and you kept seeing her? Behind my back?”

“Escucha hermano! Por favor,” Jake said, sensing that Steven was getting even more upset by the second, and rightfully so.

Steven was fronting again, and the tears started flowing freely. He felt distraught with the pain of betrayal reverberating through his bones. He had to think, to make sure he was understanding correctly what was happening. He stepped away from the mirror with his face buried in his hands.

You had been sleeping with Jake for who knows how long, while Steven took a back seat and Marc thought he had everything under control. The lying snake. Jake’s moral compass was always questionable, but this was low, even for him. At least he’d been considerate of the system in the past. Even his immorality had good intentions behind them. This was completely and utterly selfish.

“Does she know?” Steven dropped his hands and looked at his reflection…at Jake, “does she know that she was sleeping with someone else?!”

The silence was all the answer Steven needed. You’d been letting Jake have his way with you without realizing it was him this entire time. He was out of words to say. It was like his face was frozen, mouth slackjaw and eyes glistening with the realization of what this meant. You thought that Steven and you were still together, and Jake had been tricking you into sleeping with him. This was disgusting. This was bad…this was very bad.

“Jake, you of all people should understand what kind of trouble we could be in!” Marc yelled, “I mean come on! The poor girl already dealt with the heartbreak of losing Steven once, and now you’re going to–”

“We have to tell her, Marc.” Steven said, looking into his panel. “After what he put her through? She deserves the truth.”

“No, no we can’t tell her the truth,” Jake chimed in, “she will leave us for good.”

“Good!” Marc yelled, “that would be the best thing that could happen right now. I’m with Steven on this one.” Marc grumbled under his breath. “Poor girl, you’re sick Jake. The three of us are supposed to be keeping a low profile, and you might just manage to get us arrested, or at best put in an asylum.”

“Thank you Mar–”

“Why do you got such a stick up your ass over this huh? Nobody is worried about a small-time professor at a random college in the US. Khonshu and his men won’t find us, even if she and Steven got caught. You coulda just let them stay together! If you tell her the truth now we just might get caught, ever think of tha pendejo?”

“That’s not even the point anymore, you fucked her in the back seat of your fucking car and she deserves to know that!” Steven’s voice cracked while he yelled, swearing more than Marc had ever heard in all the years he’d had Steven around. “There’s no way in hell she’s staying with us after this, and I wouldn’t blame her! She shouldn’t stay with us! Congratulations to the both of you for, once again, managing to ruin my life!” Steven sighed, “I ruined her life. Never should’ve dragged her into this. We need to come clean, it’s the right thing to do.”

Steven charged over and grabbed his coat from the coat rack, but Jake stopped him, taking over the body.

“Not a chance hermano, I’m not letting you ruin this for us,” he stepped away from the coat rack, dropping Steven’s jacket on the floor.

Jake didn’t want to keep deceiving you, of course not. He wouldn’t consider himself a bad person, or someone that took pleasure in causing you emotional pain, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked at him. Your eyes always lit up a little when your gaze met his. It was like nothing else mattered, and he’d never felt that with anyone before. The thought of losing that feeling - of losing you - gave him a sense of desperation unlike any he’d ever felt. He considered that he might rather die than experience the agony of not having you in their life.

“So…what? Are you just going to keep doing this to her? What the hell is wrong with you?!” Steven protested.

Marc took over again, and he went to the couch and sat down, taking a deep breath. He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head and sighing deeply. This was such a fucking mess. They were always making such a fucking mess of everything. He and Jake had made Steven’s life hell, and in Marc’s attempt to make his life better, both Steven and Jake had fallen for someone they weren’t allowed to have. Marc once again felt an overwhelming sense of self loathing. 

“Dumb…this is so…” Marc leaned back, staring at the ceiling and taking a moment to embrace the silence, “dumb.”

“We can’t tell her, she’ll hate us. I…I don’t want to let her go.”

There was a pull at Marc’s heartstrings from the one that he least expected to feel it from…Jake Lockley. He expected this from Steven, but never from Jake. Marc’s fist was clenched so hard that his knuckles ached. He ran a hand through his messy curls, courtesy of Steven, and then he let his hands drop to his sides.

“We can’t let her keep meeting with you and thinking it’s me, Jake. S’wrong and you know it. Oughta be ashamed. Disgusting.” Steven spat, seething with anger toward Jake.

Marc reached into Steven’s pants pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened up your contact and pressed the little green phone.

“Steven, gonna need you to–”

“Yeah, on it,” he said, coming to the front and waiting for you to pick up on the other end.

He could feel Jake trying to stop him, but to no avail. Steven knew what had to be done, and they were going to do it. There was no way around it anymore. The three of them were a package deal, that much was evident, and it was time for them to tell you the truth. You picked up on the other line, and Steven’s breath caught in his throat.

“Steven? Why the hell are you calling me?” You must’ve still been in the library, based on your harsh whisper.

“Can you come to my flat, please? We need to talk.”

“What do you mean? I thought you said–”

“Now…”

----

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Moon Knight Masterlist

#steven grant #steven grant fiction #steven grant headcanon #steven grant fic #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fluff #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley fiction #jake lockley headcanon #jake lockley fanfiction #marc spector fiction #marc spector headcanon #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector #marc spector fanfiction #moon #knight #moon knight drabble #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight #jake lockley smut #steven grant smut #marc spector smut #prof!Steven Grant #college au

[rarepears]

Ok I was rereading your "Break news: Westeros lord marries a stranger?" Fic and I am almost sure Jinwoo would be the kind of parent that would gift those super expensive security stuff (like those necklaces that point to your ubi and stuff like that

But of course he can just teleport himself to the child and they have the shadows to protect them

But I just imagine him looking through the system's shop and seeing these jewelry that looks beautiful, maybe has a leon charm or a sword that looks like one of Jaime's drawings and he goes: why not?

So he buys some, cause the children are the kind of using different accessories for the week and he just thought that those earrings were very pretty and that bracelet wouldn't interfere with sword practice

And look! That ring would look really pretty on Tywin (cues their drama cause one of Jinwoo's books told about this tradition) and why not? :D this isn't the first gift he gave to him

So yeah, in my mind Jinwoo is the parent that buys his family everything they want and doesn't see a problem, they work very hard and deserve a reward and he likes to spoil them

Firstly, what is "ubi"? Because I'm thinking "universal basic income" and that's not what you're referring to. If you were thinking more along the lines of "gps", that wouldn't be possible since GPS requires satellites to circle the planet that Westeros is located and the GPS chip uses said satellites (on a very precise orbit) to decode and compute the precise location of said chip. Unless Jinwoo starts importing satellites to float around Westeros...

Something that I was consciously writing into this fic was Jinwoo and Jinah's kind of over the top gifting/shopping. They went from buying only the bare necessities (and some times not even that) to now having more money than they could ever spend. This sudden swing in financial purchasing power is making them go a little crazy like how Jinah is buying waaaaay too many clothes for Jinwoo to wear and paying a lot of attention to Jinwoo's PR. At least Jinah has a bit of Sudden Wealth Syndrome - a bit of an identity crisis because she can suddenly afford to spend money on her hobbies and other wants, fear that Jinwoo needs a backup plan in case he gets too injured to keep clearing gates, and also not quite knowing who she is going to be as a person (because she is just a teenager).

Then there's Jinwoo's mom who doesn't quite know if it's her place to say anything about the siblings' shopping spree. These kids are so incredibly independent from what she remembered before her coma; do they really need her, a parent, around? And it's not like they can't afford to spend with Jinwoo's current income. Their mom doesn't really know her place in the family dynamic now, so she's kind of backed off and is quietly looking on. She's not spending money if she can't because it's not her money; but she's also not sure what she could or should be doing, so she does things like make a cloak for a lion, cook meals for what she thinks are Jinwoo's friends, and try to make herself useful and not appear overbearing to her suddenly-so-mature-and-independent-children.

And then there's Jinwoo who is just a hoarder and now finally has the means to spoil all his loved ones because he feels very guilty that he couldn't give Jinah a proper childhood while their mom was in a coma. Jinah missed out a lot, he thinks, because of his inability to provide.

So yes, here's a mini character analysis about the Sung family's relationship with money and gifts.

#tywin lannister x sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo #solo leveling #solo leveling ideas #tywin lannister #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire

[howi99]

A Qrow's Nest prologue 4

Cinder: *testing her bed* Woah, it's a lot more comfy than the sofa!

Glynda: *looking murderously at Qrow* She sleeps where!?

Qrow: *shruging* What? She can't use my chamber, the room is inappropriate for children. You know, weapon and all?

Glynda: *sigh* Qrow, i would have thought you'd have at least got her a mattress. At least something better than just a couch!

Cinder: I don't mind really. Beat sleeping on the ground by a long mile. He even gave me sheets so i wouldn't be cold!

Glynda: *hugging Cinder* Oh poor sweet child!

Cinder: *looking perplexed at Qrow*

Qrow: *shrugging* I did say she was a teddy bear. You should see her with Pup- *get smacked in the face by a floating pillow* mhfm!

Glynda: Qrow, i will kick your ass if you say anything else.

Cinder: ... What a weird couple.

Glynda and Qrow: We are not!

___________

Security gard: Paper please.

Qrow: I'm the huntsman sent by the company *show his false identity*

Security gard: *gruf* Brow Brandon? Weird name. But the papers are in order, you can enter the perimeter. *Open the gates, letting Qrow enter*

Qrow: *whispering* Brow Brandon? Really Ozpin? *Looking around to see where he needs to go*

Security gard: *seeing the lost Qrow* You are needed at the camp, fucking beast are disturbing the peace.

Qrow: *rolling his eyes* Faunus aren't animal.

Security gard: *shrugs* If you say so. *Return to his post*

______________

Cinder: Say, Glynda, Why did you have to come with us?

Glynda: You mean outside of looking after you?

Cinder: Y-yeah. I know i'm young but i can be by myself without problems.

Glynda: To be frank? I needed a break from the job. You wouldn't believe how much of a pain Ozpin is.

Cinder: He looks like a nice man though?

Glynda: Oh, to be nice, he is. But he's lazy in his bureaucratic work.

Cinder: Bureauwhat?

Glynda: He's bad with paperwork. And i'm the one who has to clean after him. Not literally, or i probably would have killed him.

Cinder: You are joking right? Isn't he the headmaster? Doesn't that mean he's super bright?

Glynda: Oh he is. When he needs to be.

Cinder: hm.

Glynda: ... Anyway, wanna go to the market? You don't have a lot of clothes, right? Can't let you use used clothes.

Cinder: Yeah!

_____________

Qrow: *looking at the worker camp* hm, the adult must be working at this hour, i almost see no one... *Sees a teenager looking after a bunch of kids* Hey kid! *She looks at him* Could you give me a round me down on what's going on?

Teen: *spit on the ground* No fang, i have nothing to say to the one exploiting us.

Qrow: Woah woah! I ain't a son of a bitch from Atlas. I've been sent by the headmasters to see why there was a peak in grimm activity at this camp in particular. *Sigh* Though with how the guard was acting, i don't really have to search a lot now do i?

Teen: *pointing at the mine* No, the problem comes from the mines. Almost no security, the pay is low and...

Qrow: And what?

Teen: *point at herself and all the kids* Why do you think we are covered in dust and dirt? It ain't from playing. *Sigh* Our parents died in Dust accident, so we have to work to get out of here.

Qrow: WHAT!? THEY MAKE CHILDREN WORK!

Teen: Shhhh! Not too loud you idiot! *Looking around to see if anyone heard him* I'm guessing you aren't from the company if that's your reaction. At least that show you didn't lie to me before.

Qrow: *Massaging his temple* From one child abuse to another. Just my luck. And no wonder the spike in Grimm activity if child labor is used. Fuck.

Teen: *shrug* In my opinion, if my misfortune can bring devastation to the guards, i don't mind that much. *Looking at the kids playing* It's them i don't want to see suffer. *Shaking her head* one of the kid is trying his hardest to get enough for everyone to leave, but he's so young.... *Tearing up*

Qrow: ... What's your name kid?

Teen: M-my name? Sienna...

Qrow: *giving her a thumbs up* I'll help you get the kids out. *Smirking* I know a gal.

Sienna: *looking at the mine* The kid i was talking about, i don't know his name, he doesn't talk much, but he's still working at the mine. I can't let him here alone.

Qrow: ... Do you know when everyone will be accounted for?

Sienna: *acquiescing* In 4 days. The entire mine is shut down for the weekend.

Qrow: Do you think y'all can old on for the next 4 days?

Sienna: Y-yeah. We can ask for a week worth of unpaid leave, but we do have enough to be alright.

Qrow: Ok, perfect. I'll save you all, ipromise.

#rwby #rwby au #a Qrow's nest au #qrow branwen #glynda goodwitch #cinder fall #sienna khan

[pen-observing]

Genshin harem manhwa au!

CHAPTER FOUR OF SEVEN. characters: capitano & zhongli (seperate) x gn! reader word count: 4.8k (1.8k + 3k respectively) warnings: you can understand every character's story seperately, capitano calls you 'little one' but not in a weird way, zhongli's starts off funny, ajax is presumed dead in capitano's chapter.

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

CAPITANO - YOU ARE LOOKING FOR REVENGE BUT HE STANDS IN YOUR WAY. HE SWEARS TO TAKE UP THE SWORD FOR YOU AND PROVE YOUR FOOLISH NATURE.

Sometimes it amazes you – this life that is. How, while you are taking determined steps to a bar that deals in the underground circles, people around here are living carefree lives. They take hold of their lover’s hands or lead children so they don’t get lost while buying animal ears for fun.  

You bite the inside of your cheek.   Ajax was once like that. Your heavy steps inside of this light atmosphere to your destination remind you of him. How, whenever there was a festival, he would ask for a day off. He was such a wonderful knight that you always allowed him to do as he wished because you knew he had his reasons.  

After you gave your permission, he would say he wanted to speak as a friend; then, he would invite you to help him look after his younger brother. He would bring you simple peasant clothes to mask your identity and then the two of you would walk down the street hand in hand while leading the curious-eyed child along.  

Thanks to those moments, you were somewhat acquainted with the true situation inside this small kingdom you were supposed to rule later. Your parents ignored the complaints and problems inside, but every outing with Ajax helped solidify the true state of it inside your mind.  

You were supposed to ascend the throne later. Ajax was supposed to stand by your side as the trusty knight he has always been. Your kingdom was supposed to prosper. Ajax was not supposed to die.  

That thought comes back again! Your determined steps take a small detour. By now you are away from the shining lights and faces of the citizens that spelled the doom of your bloodline. But Ajax’s blood belonged to them; not to your family and certainly not on the carpet and the walls underneath your castle while he helped you escape.  

Ajax should not be dead right now!  

But he is. And you have been unable to cope all this time. That is why you are crouching beneath a tree; taking deep breaths and trying to calm yourself down.   Inside that bar hides your only hope of vengeance. You have spent three years searching for any trace of that infamous informant. You know nothing besides that he frequents this establishment and that for a good price, he is willing to give you the name of the one who struck down Ajax. 

With that renewal of hope inside your soul, you finally rise to your feet and pull the hood over your head before continuing down the dirty path. There are no lights that lead to that bar, only some footsteps in the middle of a grass field and you hope they are trustworthy enough.   The money you paid did not lie. After an hour of walking through that forest, you finally found a house which had a worn-out sign. ‘Rowdy Dog’, the name of the bar that stood between you and your purpose.  

Pulling your hood again, you opened the doors. You were sure that if you did knock, they would immediately throw you out. Luckily, they currently happened to consist of just three quests and a bartender. With that quick scan, you decided that immediately getting a drink would be the next best choice.  

The chairs were squeaky and uncomfortable, but you sat in one right across the bartender. Your contact told you that he was the worst kind of man to deal with. And looking at him; confirming his size and build and that long hair which people said he used to mask a particularly bad scar from his shoulder to his stomach; you know the contact was right.  

The other guests didn’t pay you much attention and you doubt they even noticed you from how drunk they were but he... his eyes were already telling you to leave. It seemed like he was doubtful of your purpose and hoped a warning by rejecting to speak first would be enough to get you to turn back.  

But your quest for revenge was greater than anything else and you could certainly deal with a bartender before your informant got here.  

“Whiskey.”  

You noticed everyone you dealt with to get this far ordered that drink so surely it would prove you knew how to dabble in this line of business.  

The man turned around and put down a glass and a bottle of whiskey on the counter in front of you. Him not talking was unnerving.  

“Are you so clever not to pretend you saw my cue telling you to leave or are you so dumb that you choose to stick around.”  

Him speaking was already starting to give you a headache.  

“Just pour me a glass and ignore my presence.”  “This is my bar; by extension, it is my house. If I put down a bottle and a glass in front of you, it means that you have to pour it yourself.”  

You never thought such a deep and smooth voice could cause you this much annoyance.  

“Is there a reason why your particular business model is so prejudiced towards me Sir?”  “Yes. You are too soft hearted to set foot in this place.”   “It is none of your business what I do here.”   “Would you like me to kick you out right now?” 

Your informant was right. For a man that ran the bar most frequented by assassins and criminals with bounties on their heads; he was too dignified and moral. So what if you are a young person that never killed anyone? You swore to only use your sword on the person who killed Ajax and nobody else.   Still, you had to get on this man’s good graces or your new informant would never trust you either.  

You poured yourself a glass while thinking that it was necessary to put up with this for just a while longer.  

“Are you happy now?”   You were about to bring the glass to your lips but before you could, the bartender took everything in front of you and placed it behind the counter.  

“At least you are willing to bluff where it doesn’t count.”  “What is that supposed to mean? And the way you are running this establishment is horrible!”  

The man pinched the bridge of his nose and then he glared at you.  

“Meet me in the back in five minutes.”  “Excuse me?”  

He didn’t even dignify you with a response. He simply walked away and slammed the door behind him. You suppose nobody would dare to steal from him. But, why should you wait five minutes? You decided to immediately follow him instead. 

Outside, he was standing leaning against the wall with a cigarette in between his fingers. You approached and he was kind enough to blow smoke in the opposite direction. 

“I see you do not even possess patience.”  “Why are you acting this way towards someone you never met so far?”  

The man took in another puff and leaned his head on the wall as well looking up at the bright moon.  

“An innocent soul was never supposed to step foot into that bar.”  “You made it what it is. I don’t think you get to choose who steps into it or why.”   “Little one, you are so wrong about everything you have done tonight. Tell me, does the atmosphere inside that place fill you with any joy?”  “No. I don’t see how it could fill anyone with joy.”   “Wrong again. And that proves my point.”  

This man was incorrigible. Your head was staring to hurt more and more but something about him wanting to protect innocent people reminded you of Ajax. You decided that for the sake of your dead friend, you would take off your mask for a few minutes.  

“Do you think I am innocent even if my family caused poverty and death in this city?”  “Yes. Did your own hands ever do anything? Those guests inside are filled with joy by knowing everyone else in there has killed and felt blood on their tongue. It makes no sense to you; that violence.”  

How horrible. How could you not lay down your mask when this man seems to have a natural ability to disarm people?  

“Tell me, is the reason you are here revenge?” He says it nonchalantly, but his eyes look at you with a plea and a hope that you will say no. 

“It is. I have someone who was more innocent than me and they died by people who said they were seeking justice.”  “I would say that you too wish to protect innocent souls, but the dead do not need protection. Why not turn around and start something new like I did?”  

His cigarette is finished by now and he dims out it’s last light by stepping on it. 

“Something new? Isn’t your bar the place where everything you regret doing, other people plan to do?”  “Ironic, isn’t it?”  

Silence. Something about him makes you feel peaceful, and you hate it.  

“How can you sound so sure when seeing those guests?”  “It is simple. Trying to save them would be futile, but saving you like this would be enough. Wouldn’t you say you’ve enjoyed out conversation so far?”   “You cannot save me. I made up my mind long ago. I will avenge him.”  “A lover perhaps?”  “My knight.”  

He looks at you and laughs. His laugh sounds regretful, so you don’t take it as an insult. 

“A knight you say? And you said he had a soul purer than yours?”  “Yes. You sound like you disagree.”  “Before this, I was a knight of the enemy kingdom. The title of a knight is never innocent. We gain it by swearing to kill so that we can protect flimsy ideals and even weaker families.”  

All this time, you never even imagined Ajax’s sword decorated by another human’s blood. That image shattered your world. Revenge for a pure soul? Maybe it was revenge for yourself but just masked as less selfish.  

“Tell you what;”, the man kneels down in front of your feet. You can tell that his body automatically remembers the grace and honor knights carry on their backs. Ajax so quickly fell into this stance too.  

“To save your soul, I will be your new knight. To prevent you tasting blood, I will be the one to spill it for you. I’ve done it so many times that I can do it again.”  

Incorrigible man. Paradoxical man. 

“I do not need a new knight.”  “You need someone that will show you just how pointless revenge truly is.”  

When he says that, he looks up at you with piercing eyes. It will be your resolve versus his own and, as much as you hate to admit, it looks like he will win. Maybe that is why you hear Ajax’s laughter. Maybe that is why you get transported into the white room again. This golden door, it echoes with his laugh. Honey-like, warm and it is calling your name. 

Not answering it would be a sin. 

ZHONGLI - EVERYONE THINKS THE KING IS DEAD. IN REALITY, HE IS HIDING IN YOUR HOUSE SAYING HE NEEDS YOUR HELP.

“You again? I already made it very clear to you that your presence is disturbing to my chickens!” 

He is here again. You have debts to pay, and he is disrupting your quiet and small farm. Again. This is the third day in a row. Soon enough you will be as restless as your chickens if this man with intricate tattoos on his arms keeps coming back.  

Wait..coming back? That isn’t the right word. He doesn’t leave! He just spends all of his time here! Why on earth has this man, too tall for you to look at without stretching your neck, decided that sleeping every night in your chicken coop is the most comfortable place one can get some rest? He must be insane. One of those special calibres a friend told you about a while ago; like that man who thought waiting inside hospitals was the biggest joy he had so he would go to one every single day and just sit there.  

“I apologize for disturbing your chickens and, by extent, you. I have no other place to do.” 

Liar. Even if he has been sleeping inside of here for three days his clothes are of such fine fabric you refuse to believe his excuse being homelessness. Bandits pretend they need help all the time; they pretend to be sick and when someone lets them into their house, they rob them and escape with possessions that person spent all their life obtaining. You will not be fooled by his sweet disposition. He should count himself lucky you didn’t chase him away with a broom yet. Truthfully, your heart does not tell you that he is a bad person or that he wishes to spread evil but..he is a suspicious figure! One day, you walked inside the coop with your basket, ready to greet the mostly-nameless-chickens when Miguel (your roster, and, quite frankly, favorite one) screamed as soon as you opened the door while he was about to pluck the top of a sleeping man’s head.  

“If you have enough sense to apologize, then you have enough sense to leave my household and my coop. So, please, walk away somewhere else.” 

The man looks at you with eyes that seem more authoritative than his current homeless position would imply but you refuse to give in and look away. A staring contest first thing in the morning works wonders for your spirits.  

“Like I already said-”, he begins, and you already know how the sentence would end if Miguel didn’t sneak up on him and pecked his ankle. The man bit the inside of his cheek in frustration and looked down at the creature below him. It didn’t seem like it hurt him at all, it seemed like he found it an annoyance more than anything.  

“Tell this chicken that people should get to finish their sentences.”  “He did what any living being would when their home is invaded.”  “I did not invade his home. Be careful of what you accuse me of. I will admit that my presence here seems invasive to your home, but I just needed a place to stay that was very far away and quiet.”  “Then just walk a few more steps into the forest itself and it will serve you nicely.” 

For some reason, when you say that, Miguel starts to scream like never before, you can feel that the air feels heavier and...are his eyes glowing? No, you imagined it. In a split second everything is back to normal. Must have been all the stress. 

“It looks like you haven’t been sleeping lately but I assure you my presence should make no difference to your daily life. I have not even taken one of your eggs to eat in the three days I have been here – can that not be called fair?” 

The arrogance of this man. Does he really think this is a fair trade?  

“Your presence in this coop has decreased my egg production by 47 percent already!”  “Are you sure...did you really calculate that or did you make that number on the spot?”  “What if I did? Accurate number or not, if you continue to stay here, eventually, I will not be able to pay off my debts either way. I am on a very strict payment plan you see.”  

He puts a hand to his chin and looks down at Miguel again. He probably thinks you cannot understand what he is mumbling about but you hear it quite well. He says it is not surprise that your business is failing when you make up numbers on the spot. But then he drops his hand and looks at you.  

“I will leave this chicken coop.”  “So you finally have some sense?”  “If you allow me to sleep on your front porch instead.” 

You raise your eyebrow. It would help your production more and in turn you would be able to pay off your debts but...a grown man sleeping like a dog in front of your porch is not the best solution. Still, if you don’t pay them back in regular instalments they said they would destroy your property so...it should be fine? 

“Fine. But under no circumstances am I letting you inside of my house. Are we clear?”  “Absolutely. I thank you for your kindness?” 

Kindness? You saw him walk around with a stiff back and bruises and all the dirt. Miguel is a big fan of making sure this man gets as dirty as possible..just because you let him stay without feeding him does not mean you are kind. Well, you did give him one slice of bread on the first day since you thought he seemed like a victim. 

“Suit yourself. I still do not see what the difference between this and the forest is!” 

As you walk away, he sighs. Twice. Then he looks at Miguel again who is preparing to attack his ankles again. 

“Your owner really does not feel their own potential... What a shame. Shouldn’t the fact I am so close by be an awakening for that power in them?” he hisses.  “Miguel, if you bring your beak to my ankle once more, I will make you fly.”  

You said that and he really did move to your porch. Right now, you are cooking dinner and he just spends his time sitting there. You waved to him through the window because he sometimes gets up to walk around on the humble porch of an even more humble house.  

But something tells you it was a mistake. To hold a cooking spoon in one hand and to wave at him through the other. Why? Because as soon as he waved back, rain started to pour. The sound on your stove immediately got dimmed from the strength of the downpour and you knew that even the plants would live to regret the strength of this rain. But...it was a bigger mistake because your roof above the porch was never patched up and the rain seemed to be falling at such an angle that the man would get hit with it no matter what.  

It tugged on your heart, and you opened the front door. In those few minutes, your entire porch was already filled with water and, no matter how close to the house he stood, the man was completely wet. His long hair clung to his forearms and neck, his clothes were clinging to his skin too.  

“I know what I said but--” 

As if to help the urgency of your kindness, hail started to fall from the sky and you just quickly tugged on the man’s sleeve to bring him inside your house.  

“I will let you stay inside just for tonight.”  

He remained quiet and stood completely still next to the door. 

“You have my thanks.”  “Well, walk further inside?”  “No. That would prove I lack manners. Since I am all wet it is better if I stay in one place while I dry.”  “You-- Did you really think I would not offer you a change of clothes and a towel to dry yourself with?!”  “Well..you did let your chickens peck me for three days so..I just inferred you would be hesitant.” 

You quickly walk to another room and bring him a change of clothes without missing the chance to throw a towel in his face. 

“Here. I barely have any warm water left but go take a bath to ensure you do not catch a cold.”   “You have my sincere thanks.”  

You walk around to your counter to stir the pot. You can hear him drying his hair; somehow it annoys you his has that much volume. As you look up, wishing to glare at him, you can see that he is already shirtless and about to tug down his pants. In a moment of panic you decide that throwing the cooking spoon at him is your quickest reaction.  

“What are you doing?!”  “Hmm? I should change in this one spot because my clothes are dripping water onto your floor as well.”  “I do not want to see you change!” 

He freezes up. He has spent so much of his life inside his castle; never has anyone reprimanded him for his habits and he had his own harem. Somehow, he never expected such a reaction to befall him, and this moment just reminds him of how low he has fallen, even if he tried to show consideration towards your home.  

“You are absolutely right, I deeply apologize. I shall finish up the rest in your bathroom.”  

He tries to make his steps as light as possible when he walks by and you curse yourself for looking at his defined back.  

By his physique, he seems stronger than most..just why is he here in such a miserable state? 

“Thank you for choosing to share some of your dinner with me.”  “I did let you go hungry for three days and the rain doesn’t look like it will stop soon. So, I figured, it was the least I could do for now.” 

He sits up straight in the chair. This oversized sweater of yours fits him perfectly and the pants you brought him only reach up to his knees, but they are better than nothing.  

“You must know I... I understand your hesitance in not trusting me.”  “Do you now?” 

He nods.  

“I do not think I have given you many reasons to not trust me, but I also do not think I have given you reasons to trust me either. It crossed my mind just now that I never even gave you my name.”  “Will you give it to me now?”  “My name is Zhongli. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

He doesn’t seem to know that he should stretch his hand for a shake when introducing himself so you just raise up another spoon of broth to your mouth.  

“I am glad to finally know the name of the man who has lessened my egg production by 63 percent.”  “Wasn’t it 47 percent just this morning?” 

You did admit to making up the numbers but your cheeks still feel hot from embarrassment. 

“Hush.” 

Zhongli simply looks at you and puts a hand to his chin. He should have made more public appearances in this form, but he doubts his image as a king would have ever reached this place of solace you live in. Not only is it the smallest village in his kingdom, well, his ex-kingdom he supposes but...even with all of that you chose a house so removed from everyone else that you probably only talk to other humans once a week when you have to visit the village square.  

He wonders how you would react to knowing that you just told the most powerful king of these lands to hush up. Nobody ever did this before; he wonders if he should hate it instead of finding it endearing.  

“Could I ask you how your life has been since the king died? You might not believe this, but I did see changes when travelling all the way here.”  “What are you trying to hide from?”  “Pardon?”  “Zhongli what are- ugh never mind I actually do not wish to know. My life since the king died? My life while he was alive before the Revolutionaries took over was hard enough. You see where I live, and I have no idea why you are acting like it is a good place. To simply tell you of my life; I do not remember having a childhood, but I do remember waking up here and being cornered by some bandits. They kept asking me about my debts and I only saw the chicken coop from the window and decided to lie and say a fox snuck in and killed most of my animals.” 

Zhongli patiently listens to you. His eyes seem to glow again because of how interested he is in what you are saying. Maybe you are talking so much because you have not had human company in so long?  

“Anyway, they believed me without checking but they reminded me that I owe them for life because, apparently, I made a shady deal with them in the past. I wanted to fight but there wasn’t much I could actually do. Would they kill me? Sell me? Living in this dump and taking care of chickens to earn enough money to pay them back monthly seemed better than..living in that forest I tried to send you too.” 

Zhongli does not say much but he feels that you want him to say or ask something.  “All this time I supposed that the king only failed his people by dying but it seems like he failed you long before that. Based on my travels so far, I suppose that it only got worse after that fact?”  “Worse? It is hell! I never thought that the king had any duty towards me but maybe he did. The Revolutionaries certainly did not help anything improve! They raised taxes, which means the bandits I pay want even larger amounts of money now. I never thought the tax increase would even influence the illegal jobs of this world.”  

You take another bite of your food, but it tastes bitter this time, probably because your feelings are the same.  

“You must allow me to apologize.”  “Apologize? For what?”  “I had no idea you were in business with these..bandits...they came last night and since I deemed them suspicious I..took care of them.” 

At first, you laugh. A big, hearty laugh.   Then, Zhongli laughs with you. He was not expecting that reaction but he knows how wrong he was to relax when your spoon hits his shoulder. Now, you are glaring at him.  

“I was right not to trust you! When they return with backup what will I do then?”  

He can feel that you are panicking. And he lets you be angry at him because he knows what lies behind that is fear. He knows the prophecy; he knows why he let the rebels have the upper hand for now; he needed time to reach you – the one who is destined to help him. But with all this fear and your lack of memories or awareness of the power you hold – he had to subject himself to sleeping in your chicken coop and waiting for your power to awaken.  

It becomes crystal clear that as you are now, you will never grow into your potential without his help. He decides to approach this like everything else he has as the king right now. When you finish yelling, he extends his hand and his tattoos go from black to gold – he uses his power to make calm wash over you and he forces you to sit down in the chair again.  

“Listen to me, they will not be returning. Even bandits have enough sense to know that they will lose against me. Your chickens posed more of an issue for me.” 

Was this his way of trying to bring light to this whole situation?  

You should be angry still. You should be making sure he leaves your house; but his powers calm you beyond all harmony you have known so far.  

“How can you be so sure of yourself?”  “If you were not so filled with fear; you would remember who you are. Child of the Sun, we are the same origin. You are meant to help my mission in this world by standing as my equal. Yet, it is clear I will have to guide you regardless.” 

His..who is that man? Is he the considerate man who refuses to take another step to not wet your carpet or is he an arrogant bastard? The answer does not matter. His innocence and consideration can be the truth or a lie; you do not care.   Something in you snaps and your body grows yellow too. It lets you stand up and glare at him. Something is tugging your body and it does not feel like Zhongli’s power. You think this surge of emotions and power welling inside is going to make you faint soon, so you settle on just one sentence before you are plucked from this world and another door swallows you. 

“All of you kings are the same. And you can all beg for my help and burn as I do not answer you.” 

a/n: whelp,, it has been a while,,truly. how have you been? i hope this chapter is to your liking. I am trying to make these shorter than before but,,it is hard ://

TAGLIST: send an ask if you wish to be added.

@is-asimp , @irisxiel , @sunsethw4 , @sketcheeee , @thelonelyarchon, @magicalink , @ladycoleigh , @luvr-exe , @yuus3n , @haru-lucidream

#genshin x reader #favoniuslibrary #capitano x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin capitano #genshin zhongli #genshin imagines #pwanw #genshin impact #not om #not rook's bow

[furious-blueberry0]

I have to say, I love the idea of the Clones slowly creating their own culture by interacting with their trainers on Kamino, with their Jedi Generals during the war and by just talking with the people they save from the Seppies, instead of just using the Mandalorian culture of Jango.

Don’t get me wrong, I really like when authors integrate Mando things in fanfictions or fanarts, I basically learned Mandalorian by how many fanfictions I read with it in it. 

But at the same time the idea of a Clone unique culture is more appealing, and I really wish fancreators would toy with it more, it has so many possibilities!

Imagine:

A Twi’lek trainer is in charge of a class of cadets, he is an ex-bounty hunter who can’t stand his old job anymore, not after one of his failed assignments killed his son for revenge.

And now he is here, on a secret planet, being tasked to train little perfect child soldiers, who look at him with such wide and curious eyes just like his boy. But his mind is plagued by the sight of his son’s body, and the last conversation he had with him: the meaning of the Kalikori. 

It always felt like a cruel destiny that the last thing he would talk to his son about was the Totem of his family history, where there were also his parents and his wife's deaths depicted on it.

And now his boy too.

It was on the day of his Death Anniversary that he had this conversation again, but with a different boy this time. A cadet had come to search for him, because he was late for the morning lesson, unaware that his trainer had drunk so much that he could barely stand on his feet, let alone teach. 

And it was probably because of his drunken state that he decided to just talk to this boy, identical to all the others, with no real name, that possessed nothing but the clothes on his back, his brothers and the knowledge that was taught to him, knowledge about war and nothing else.

And so he talked to him, and gave him the last lesson he would ever teach on that planet, a lesson not about war but love:

He talked about the Kalikori, about its meaning, how it works and why it is made. 

Every time he indicates a segment he talks about what it represents: his marriage, the birth of his son, his first job as a bounty hunter, the death of his parents, the death of his wife’s parents and so on… until his finger lands on the last one, his son's death. 

“It’s a way to remember your loved ones” he says, looking into the dark and curious eyes of the cadet, so so similar to his eyes.

“so that even if you’re gone, if no one who knew them is still alive, whoever will see this, they’ll know that they must have been special to someone, and that they were loved, like nothing else in this universe. It’s a testament of your love for them, eyan bou. So that they may be remembered until the stars break.”

He was never seen again.

Some say that Jango himself threw him out of the planet after discovering his drinking tendencies, some say he just leaved on his own because he missed his home.

But there is a story of an older cadet who saw him on the platform outside, standing on the limit, looking at the waves below, and the moment the cadet looked away, and then turned back to the trainer… he was nowhere to be seen. 

All his things were thrown away, including the Kalikori, and then a new trainer replaced him just a few days after, and everybody forgot about him.

But not the little cadet, he remembered his last lesson, and so he talked about it to his batchmates, and they talked about it to their friends, and by the time of the start of the war every single clone knew about it, about the testament of love, the one used to make the memory of your loved ones eternal.

After the start of the war this knowledge transformed itself into something new: in the little side pouch of every clone there was now a beaded cord, and on every bead there was a different drawing, sometimes a number, sometimes the initial of a name, or a symbol. 

No cord was ever left behind, there were multiple clones who risked their life or lost it to retrieve it, to bring on the memory of their brothers. Some symbols were familiar to them, and some were not, some were for the soldiers who died by their side, and some were for those who never got out of Kamino, clones that no one cared about and were taught to forget they ever existed, but they just couldn’t.

It was not rare to have cords full of strangers, or to attach your own cord to that of a fallen Vod, or to have more than one bead dedicated to the same clone.

And it was not rare to die surrounded by droids while clutching the cord, and not the blaster, because the presence of those fallen brothers just made them feel safer and more invincible than any weapon they could ever have.

#I JUST THINK IT WOULD BE COOL OKAY! #AND THIS IS JUST ONE RANDOM IDEA GUYS!!! THINK ABOUT THE INFINITE POSSIBILITIES THIS HAS!!! #Also “eyan bou” means “young one” in Twi'leki #I thought it was sweet and decided to include it #I may add more new ideas if I get them #If you have some pls write them!! #I'm so so curious about what others think #star wars #clone wars #clone troopers #star wars clone wars

[merakiui]

I just read your Scaramouche thoughts and the mention of secret alliance and the memories came flooding back. I’m always a sucker for a yandere who cross dresses to get close to reader. It kinda gave me the idea of yan Aether in a modern Au where Aether pretends/dresses as Lumine to get close to u (acc this might be more on par w the plot of shes the man movie but I digress - but the man basically steals her whole identity)

(cw: yandere, stalking, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, cross-dressing, obsession)

When they were younger, Aether and Lumine would enjoy tricking others. Swapping clothes and acting like the other to see if their parents could differentiate the two. Putting on the other's voice in front of friends for the fun of it. Matching outfits and snickering when people would comment on how they're practically mirror images. Now that both of them are grown, it's a fond memory Aether looks back on. They really did fool lots of people back then, though he wonders if most of them played along with the joke as not to spoil good-natured fun.

Now those types of tricks don't have the same effect, and Aether doesn't use them for innocent laughs anymore.

It's easy to borrow his sister's clothes and makeup when she's too busy with university obligations or work to notice a few missing articles. He's been doing this for a while now, so long that he's lost track of when this first began. Although despite that, he can clearly remember when he first met you. He'd gone to Lumine's work to pick her up when he'd encountered you. Maid and butler cafés are popular in this part of the city, so seeing your uniform wasn't a surprise. But it was the way you smiled at him that sparked his interest. The way that your eyes crinkled with mirth despite looking so red and blotchy. You had been sad; he could tell, but even though something was ailing you you still managed to smile and wish him a pleasant evening. Aether's so accustomed to helping those around him that he almost reached out to ask if there was anything he could do for you.

But then Lumine had come out, her work clothes stuffed in a backpack slung over her shoulder, and the minute she saw you she was pulling you towards the car, readying her fists should they need to meet the terrible soul who dared to make you cry. Aether remembers you'd said something about a break-up. He remembers how you clung to her, how you shook slightly in her arms. He remembers reaching out to console you as well and you'd gladly accepted the hand that traced soothing circles into your shoulder.

And now you're all he thinks about. He thinks you're the sun when you smile, so bright and uplifting that it washes all of his own worries and stresses away. When he's Aether, he's just your average university student. Lumine's brother who always offers you his own smile when you visit. You're always here for Lumine. Never him. That stings, but Aether knows it's because you've known Lumine longer. You're her best friend and Aether is just the brother. Not even an acquaintance. Just someone you're bound to see when you're with Lumine.

But when he's Lumine, you're his best friend. He's friends with your friends. He works shifts at the café with you. He gets to see you shirtless when the two of you go clothes shopping and you pull him into the dressing room to get his opinion on certain outfits. He gets to peer into your life in a way he'd never get to if he was Aether. And what's best of all is how affectionate you are with Lumine. Lots of hugs and cheek kisses. Lots of silly flirts. Just typical best friend stuff. And he gets to indulge in all of it, and you have no clue that he's invaded your privacy in this way!

Aether saves every photo the two of you take and he loves to look back on them. He wishes he wouldn't have to steal Lumine's identity just to get close to you, but this is the only way he be by your side. And when he's Lumine, he can tell you all about her brother. About how he's single and how he's such a sweetheart and how he loves animals and can cook delicious meals and how he's strong and can protect you... He asks you if there's anyone you like. If you're thinking about dating again. He has to be careful, though, because sometimes you'll give him a strange look and say, "Lumi, we just talked about that last week. How'd you forget?"

Right. Of course. He can't overstep his boundaries or else it'll look suspicious. He has to be casual and cool. He has to be Lumine. It's the only way he can stand by your side and continue to love you in secret. It's the only way he can get away with stalking you. When you happen to run into "Lumine" and you comment about how the two of you seem to be running into each other a lot these days, he'll laugh and joke about how it's fate bringing the two of you together.

Aether's too lovesick to truly wrap his head around the complications that this disguise births, for he's completely unprepared when you confess that you like "her." And when you kiss him, he's thrown off guard. Of course he kisses back, but the fact that you like his sister... The fact that he's spent all this time being her, impersonating her, learning just how compatible you and him are... It's not fair. For once he's jealous of Lumine and all that she has.

He's brought back to his senses when your hands tangle through "Lumine's" hair and the wig is tugged down, and when you jerk away in surprise and find that it's Aether who stares back at you and not Lumine like you'd originally thought cold, cruel horror trickles through you.

It's always been Aether, hasn't it?

#genshin chit chat #yandere aether #aether my love <3

[pico-digital-studios]

Into, Across and Beyond! Scripting: Farewell from Home

Dimension MP-2021, after the events of Sonic 3K

Sonic and Tails came to a stop together after they saved Angel Island from harm.

Sonic: Phew! Another of Eggy's schemes foiled once more! Heh, gotta say, you kept up pretty well there, little bud. I knew you had it in you!

Tails: Hehe! Thanks, Sonic! Though, I should really be getting back home now. My parents must be worried for me.

On cue, they both showed up on the beach.

Rosemary Prower: Hello! Hi.

Tails: And speaking of...

Rosemary: You must be Sonic the Hedgehog, right? I'm Miles's mum.

Sonic: Ah, Rosemary, right? I heard about you from your daughter.

Rosemary: Oh, we're using first names? Okay!

She handed Sonic back his coat.

Rosemary: This is a nice coat. We found it in Miles's room this morning. So, I guess you must've been there?

Sonic: And you must be Amadeus?

Amadeus: Heh, he called me Amadeus. You must mean Special Forces Team leader Prower! Soon to be Commander Prower of the Royal Army.

Sonic: Hey! Pretty cool!

Tails: As it happens, me and Sonic grew into close friends ever since he saved me from some bullies.

Sonic: Of course! Me and her were just catching up.

Rosemary: Aww, please don't take her from me!

Tails (embarrassed): Mum!

Rosemary: Heh, I'm just kidding. He was grounded before, so you can't do that. Don't shatter his trust, alright?

Sonic: You got it. Well, the wind's calling me! I better dash off! See ya later, Tails!

Tails: Bye, Sonic!

He raced off. Rosemary looked to Amadeus - "give me a minute with him" - and he quickly got the message.

Amadeus: Alright. See you back home!

He left, leaving Tails and Rosemary alone with each other on the beach.

Tails: ...I can hear you being quiet, mum.

Rosemary: Oh, sorry. I really hope I didn't make things more embarrassing for you there. It's just hard to see my little lady not be my little girl all the time.

Tails: I... I'm sorry about earlier, mum. I've just been questioning my current identity recently, and I really wanted to see the world with Sonic.

She nodded, understanding what her daughter (soon to be son) wanted.

Rosemary: Go.

Tails: Huh?

Rosemary: Sonic does seem like a nice guy to hang around with.

Tails: Is this a trick?

Rosemary: Of course it isn't.

She helped straighten her clothes.

Rosemary: For years, I've been taking care of this little girl, right? Making sure she's loved, that she feels like she belongs wherever she wants to be. She wants to become a trans boy, go out into the world and do great big things. And what I worry about most is... not everyone will look out for you like us. They may not root for you like us.

She looked into her daughter's eyes with worry.

Rosemary: So, here's the deal; wherever you go from here, you have to promise to take care of that little girl in your heart for me. Make sure she never forgets where she came from. And... that she never doubts she is loved. And she never lets anyone at those big fancy places she's gonna be in tell her that she doesn't belong there. And when she finally comes home, and I really hope she finds the time to, it's gonna be early in the morning with a nice normal cake.

Tails: Heh, okay, mum. I promise.

Rosemary: Just... don't get lost out there. We cool?

Tails: Alright.

She kissed Tails's cheek, this gesture having a bit more meaning tonight, gently trimming her eyelashes to give her that extra boost to transition.

Rosemary: Now go on, sweetheart. Go and chase your dreams.

Tails smiled, getting ready to leave.

Rosemary: And if you do come back, just know that you're still grounded.

Tails: Heh, okay, I understand. Well, see you later, mum.

She gave Rosemary one last hug before she headed off, and she watched her only child head off into the horizon, knowing she was growing up very fast.

Back in the present day (pre-Many More Heroes), OMT!Tails looked at a picture of his family, feeling sad that he never got to reunite with them before OMT's strike.

OMT!Tails: *sigh* I miss you, guys.

Nitro and Max, who were next to him, gave him a gentle backrub of reassurance.

Nitro: It's okay, Tails. I can relate there. I'm sure they'd still be proud of how far you've come from then.

Max: Yeah. I miss my old family just as much as you do, Tails, though no matter where they are, they'll always love us.

OMT!Tails (smiling softly): Heh, yeah.

Nitro: Wanna go get a cheeseburger, guys?

OMT!Tails: Sure!

Max: Sure thing!

They headed out.

#sonic exe #sonic the hedgehog #spider verse #sth #sonic #sonic fandom #sth au #sonic au #spider man

[fear-the-premiere]

The Nice Guys

Set in 70s LA, alcoholic mess of a father Holland March (Ryan Gosling) and muscle-for-hire Jackson Healy (Russel Crowe) must work together to solve the death of porn star Misty Mountains. This movie really solidified my theory that every buddy-cop movie is either a father-son passing the torch kinda deal or…homoerotic. The Nice Guys is on the side of homoerotic. Maybe not erotic. But it is gay with a side of co-parenting. The introduction to each character does a perfect job of telling you who they are. From Healy’s first punch at a real creep to March’s exit out of the bathtub fully clothed. Right from the first interaction between March and Healy, we know they’re gonna make a great team whether they like it or not. "you just gave up your client" "i made a discretionary revelation" "no you gave her up. I ask you one simple question, you gave me all the information" "I thought that's what you wanted" Shit’s hilarious The story is great as well. We start with a simple case of seemingly mistaken identity but realize there’s so much more to this case but it never becomes over complicated. And one thing I really like is how well they do that whole “mentioning something off handedly and bringing it back later” but I’m not entirely sure if it counts as Chekov’s Gun in this instance. All I know is Killer Bees are mentioned in March’s introduction scene and then again a few more times. They do it with other things that are more important to the plot too and it’s so great when you go back for to rewatch it and notice those callbacks from earlier in the movie. I love shit like that and The Nice Guys does it so well. Speaking of callbacks, co-parenting. Other than Healy and March’s hilarious banter, I love seeing the way their…”friendship” and business-partnership develop. I mean, Healy starts by punching March in the face and ending by essentially being Holly’s second (and more responsible?) dad. And it’s obvious Holly comes to trust him more too which is fuckin adorable. And even in their marketing, they did vids called COUPLES THERAPY ?! I mean…how am I not meant to read their relationship as gay dads ??? Overall, this movie was a fuckin masterpiece and absolutely deserved a sequel. Every person that I’ve shown it to has liked it without fail from my friends to my mom who doesn’t even like violence all that much which this has plenty of. In her words “that was a very silly movie but in a surprisingly fun way.” I think it’s important to know that, from the moment the credits started rolling, I opened up ao3 to look for fics. And if none of this is enough to convince anyone who hasn’t seen it to watch the movie, idfk what is.

#the nice guys #fear-reviewed #jackson healy #holland march #holly march #russel crowe #ryan gosling #angourie rice #shane black #the nice guys (2016) #film #film review #film is not dead #movies #love this movie #goes hard as fuck #definitely a fav