#at the cost of the lives of anyone more fumbling and awkward

[utilitycaster]

I can't say if Imogen is representative of how the exaltant Ruidusborn are with regards to how her powers have changed her conception of hypocrisy, but if she is, that puts the Vanguard in an interesting light. That's been the ongoing problem with the ongoing debates about the gods within the party - ultimately, every argument for unleashing Predathos has been a purely ideological one without a strong basis in reality. It's either been a straight up "well, I didn't like how the hospital is run so we should let a horse into it," or a lot of baseless wank about the gods and free will that can be twisted to always back up what you were going to do anyway (which in turn is a really strong point towards free will, but that's besides the point).

Imogen is so focused about whether thoughts and inclinations are good or bad that she neglects the reality of situations. It's in interesting contrast to the conversation we have this episode, in which Bells Hells (once again, but you know, with feeling) comes down on the side of "the gods are really besides the point to what's going on vis-a-vis denying people free will and causing harm to them". And I wonder if the exaltants, at least, among the Vanguard, struggled with that argument in the the same way Imogen does - if they've spent so long thinking of people as a collection of their worst thoughts that they ignore all the actions. It would be a happy accident, but it would explain a lot about how Ludinus got in such a foothold with them.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #i mean there's also the exploitation of people's pain and frustration as we saw with bor'dor #but even that relied on like...well. sorcerer mentality. #but just...a willingness to go along with pretty words someone genuinely believes #at the cost of the lives of anyone more fumbling and awkward #tbh this is why psionics are rough.

[maraleestuff]

The Moment of Truth - My Rewrite

(A fic idea that won’t leave me alone. Features Merthur endgame but divorce first ://)

So there was Big Set Up for a Magic Reveal in 01x10, that never really amounted to anything. Will knew that Merlin could probably end the issue with Kanen before anyone could be hurt, and Hunith saw that Merlin was preparing to do what it would take to protect Ealdor, even at the cost of himself. Pre-battle, he even alluded to the potential moment. As we recall, Will took the fall as sorcerer after taking a crossbow bolt/ arrow for Arthur.

But what if things had gone differently?

At the end of one of Arthur’s speeches, and Will had been outspoken, he paced up to Merlin. He wouldn’t reveal Merlin’s magic in front of everyone, never that, but he’s still mad. “There isn’t hope, Merlin,” Will says, unaware or uncaring that Arthur is still in earshot. “Your Prince will lead all of us to our deaths.”

“He’s trying to help—“

“But it won’t be enough,” Will retorts. “You know there’s only one way to win this battle. But first, you need to stop living a lie.” It’s not fair—even Will knows this—but he’s angry that his friend had to leave, that his friend plays servant to a spoilt prince.

And he can see it in Merlin’s eyes, the way he looks at Arthur—like the man is everything, destiny and honor personified. (He can see how this love hurts his friend, too.)

He’s angry that Merlin—his Merlin—isn’t quite the same anymore, that his best friend isn’t the one who returned to Ealdor. Because Camelot changed him. Arthur fucking Pendragon changed him.

Will storms away, ignoring Merlin’s call after him, and only stops when he rounds a nearby house. When he glances back, guilt fills him at Merlin’s sad, troubled look. Will tries to ignore the way Arthur is looking at Merlin; if Will didn’t know any better, he’d say the Prince is worried.

- - -

Later, before the coming battle, Merlin’s fingers tremble as he puts on a vambrace.

By now, he’s had about half a year of experience putting armor on Arthur—but it’s awkward and almost ill-fitting on himself. Arthur stands nearby, putting on his own armor with expert ease; a soldier and a knight, prepared for battle.

But Merlin feels nothing but a certain numbness, Will’s voice echoing in his mind. There’s only one way they can prevail against Kanen—at least, without anymore death.

He knows he needs to act. But can he risk it? Can he bear to have Arthur look at him like a monster? To be executed, or exiled? Can he bear to hope?

“Here,” Arthur says, drawing Merlin from his thoughts, as he helps Merlin with his vambrace. Merlin’s fumbling fingers hadn’t been getting anywhere.

“Thanks.” Merlin’s mouth is too dry, and he feels moments from being unable to simply breathe. He’s too nervous to make a comment about Arthur helping him for a change.

“Look,” Merlin starts, when he’s able to find his voice, “whatever happens out there, I don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“It’s alright to be scared,” Arthur says, surprisingly soft. “Even the most seasoned of warriors dread battle. And you’re not a knight, you’re a—“

“A servant?” Merlin asks. With Will’s distrust of Arthur on his mind, the reminder of his station, compared to Arthur, burns all the more.

“A civilian,” Arthur states. “You aren’t a soldier.”

“I know.” Merlin was supposed to protect Arthur, but he had no training, but for being Arthur’s training dummy and a smuggled book of spells.

Merlin takes a deep breath, securing his sheath on his waist. Gwen had gifted him a sword, but it’s weight was unfamiliar. He’d need to use it, until—

“Merlin,” Arthur says, shuffling with his own sword belt, expression pensive—Merlin knows him well enough by now to know that he was unsure about what he was going to say. It’s so unlike him that Merlin pauses, frowning. “What your friend said, what did he mean by that?”

Merlin’s stomach drops. But he feigns ignorance. “By what?”

“About living a lie?”

Merlin opens his mouth, but Morgana is suddenly shoving open the front door. “They’re coming, across the river.”

“We’ll head out, at once,” Arthur says. When the door closes, Arthur looks back at Merlin expectantly, a furrow in his brow.

“Whatever I have to do, remember that we’re in Essetir, not Camelot.”

Merlin leaves before Arthur can respond.

- - -

The plan goes perfectly—until everything goes wrong.

Will stands at Merlin’s side, as he conjures a storm and friend and foe alike are thrown in chaos. The battle is over quickly, then, and Arthur storms up to them, a thunderous expression.

“I’m the sorcerer,” Merlin says, heart pounding. Simple words for such a pivotal moment.

Arthur opens his mouth, fury and hurt in his face, but Will steps forward, too. “This isn’t Camelot,” Will says, at Merlin’s side. “Merlin can’t be punished by it’s laws.”

And then, before Arthur can respond, magic rings around Merlin like alarm bells, as the last vestiges of Kanen’s men attack. Kanen, stirring on the battlefield, raises a crossbow at Arthur’s back.

“No!” Merlin surges forward, around Arthur, flicking the arrow aside like a fly. Time is slowed, like molasses, or maybe it’s Merlin who’s moving faster—he’s never learned the difference.

When time rights itself, he’s in the thick of it, parrying the sword of a bandit. Behind him, somewhere, is the clink of Arthur’s armor and Will shouting.

Someone pushes Merlin aside; a whistle of an arrow, a sickening thwack as it hits someone.

Merlin looks around frantically and pales. Will, his best friend, a brother, staggers back, an arrow protruding from his chest.

“No. No!” Merlin’s ears ring. Suddenly, Merlin is on his feet, fury in his veins—he shoves Kanen and his men back, a yell burning his throat.

He doesn’t stop to watch them fall.

“Will!” Merlin kneels at Will’s side, hands hovering. There’s so much blood. Will’s breath a wheeze. Merlin’s studied a couple of healing spells, but nothing for this. Gaius is the Physician.

He doesn’t know what to do.

“Just hang on, just try to breathe,” Merlin tries to soothe, and he rambles more, but he isn’t totally sure what he’s saying.

Someone helps him get Will inside his house, on a table, but Merlin isn’t sure who. He doesn’t stop to glance. Arthur says something, but Merlin doesn’t hear it. Footsteps fade, and he’s alone with Will, his hand oddly cold, as Will wheezes for breath, tears in his eyes.

Merlin’s own eyes blur, but he ignores them.

“You’re a good man, Merlin,” Will gasps. Merlin grips his hand, unable to breathe—not because he dreads his secret being revealed, because, suddenly, he’s faced with a world where Will is gone. Not an old friend, in a distant village, just—gone.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin murmurs. “I don’t know how to heal you. I don’t—I can’t—“

“It’s okay,” Will says, weakly grasping Merlin back. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay. I was wrong about Arthur, you know. I don’t think I’ll ever really like him, but I see the way you two look at each other.”

“What?”

Will laughs, winces. “You’ve always been a decent judge of character, I think. If you see the King in him, then it must be in there…deep, deep down. And if he hurts you, I will haunt him till the end of his days.”

Merlin laughs wetly. His tears mix with the growing red stain. His hand is on Will’s chest, trying in vain to stem the flow, but Merlin can feel the life draining from Will. Not the blood, metaphorically, but with his magic; he can feel it drain, but he doesn’t know how to mend it.

“It’s been boring here, without you,” Will says.

“I’m sorry I had to go.” A part of Merlin will always feel that way, no matter of pratly princes and talking dragons. He’ll always miss goofing around with his magic or spear fishing or playing pranks with Will. The way you miss your childhood home that you can never truly return to.

Will starts gasping harshly. It isn’t far now.

“Merlin, Merlin, I’m scared—“

“I know. I’m here. I’m here.”

“I don’t want to die—I don’t want to be alone—“

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Merlin grasps Will’s hand, tightly.

The world stops when Will stops breathing. And though sobs catch in Merlin’s chest, though he can feel grief like a dark winter storm, for a brief instant, he is grateful.

Will isn’t in pain anymore.

- - -

Merlin doesn’t remember much of the preparations for the funerals—for Will, for Matthew, for all those who fell in battle.

He knows he’s the one who helps carry Will to the pyre. Merlin arranges Will’s grip around his father’s sword, leaves his woven leather bracelet in Will’s fingers. Gwen, Morgana, and his mother squeeze his shoulder, or murmur condolences—someone strokes his hair. He thinks Arthur is somewhere there, on the periphery, but Merlin can’t face that right now.

When the flames burn, all Merlin can hear is Will’s panicked voice. He stays, stays, stays, until the embers are cold, tears dried on his cheeks, dried blood and grime on his hands.

At some point, he kneels, fiddling with the grass at his knees.

A shadow eventually falls over him, or, maybe, it’s been there for awhile.

“Merlin,” Arthur says, armor clanking as he sits down. In the edge of Merlin’s vision, he reaches out a hand, hesitates, and drops it on his thigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Merlin says. It’s one thing to know it’s not his fault—not everything is under his control, even with magic—but there is still this insidious voice.

If he had acted sooner, no one would’ve had to die. Will would still be alive.

“He—“ Arthur pauses, wets his lips. “He knew about…it, didn’t he?”

Merlin blinks, head feeling a little foggy. “It?”

“Your magic,” Arthur says, the moment Merlin had been dreading. Merlin feels very little now that it’s upon him.

“Yes.”

“He was trying to get you to stop the battle.”

“Something like that,” Merlin sighs. “Even I don’t know fully what I’m capable of.”

Supposedly the most powerful sorcerer to walk the Earth—but he couldn’t heal his friend.

“You seemed capable enough,” Arthur says. “That storm you conjured. I think some of Kanen’s men almost shat themselves.” Arthur pauses, glancing at Merlin, and Merlin realizes he’s trying to make a joke. Not to make light of his grief, but to help.

Merlin blinks, and a warm tear falls down his cheek without thought. “But not powerful enough. I felt Will’s life but I didn’t even know the first thing about healing him.”

Arthur’s hand warms Merlin’s shoulder, steadying him. “I…I can’t pretend to know the first thing about magic. But I know you. You did everything you could. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

“It’s almost dark, Merlin. We should head inside. You can finish up my dinner.”

“How generous,” Merlin says wryly, but he doesn’t want to move just yet. “I can’t yet. I promised…” Merlin swallows. More tears fall. “I promised I wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“We won’t leave you alone either,” Arthur says, squeezing Merlin’s shoulder.

“We?”

“We,” Morgana says behind Merlin. When he turns around, she has two blankets: one she lays on the grass, the other she drapes around Merlin and Arthur’s shoulders. Gwen and Hunith trail behind her with steaming bowls of stew and a couple of candles.

“We,” Gwen confirms, handing out the bowls.

The four of them huddle together under the single blanket, while Hunith smiles solemnly.

“Try not to stay out too long,” Hunith says. She strokes Merlin’s hair, and smiles gratefully at Gwen, Morgana, and Arthur. “It gets cold after dark.”

Hunith plants an indulgent kiss on Merlin’s brow before heading back inside.

“You guys really don’t have to do this,” Merlin tells them.

“We do,” Morgana says. “You’ve been there for all of us. Even if one of us”—she sends a stink eye to Arthur—“doesn’t always acknowledge it.”

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Gwen adds.

“I promise, Merlin,” Arthur says. “Now, one of the best ways to keep someone alive is to tell their stories. So, tell us about Will. If you’d like.”

So Merlin does.

#merthur #bbc merlin #ficlet #this was supposed to be a summary #but it turned into a Drabble #character death cw #sorry for the angst but we get some Core Four action at the end

[obsessive-ego]

Love me, love me, say that you love me

Musical beetlejuice x fem reader

Beej hits you with a love potion to get you to confess you love him, it goes wrong

Dubious consent, nsft, nothing serious happens, you know me

"Satisfaction guaranteed..." the ghoul mumble to himself as he read the label of the bottle he was holding.

Beetlejuice, you're undead demonic, freeloader of a roommate, had just come back from a quick trip to the netherworld, and unlike his other trips, it wasnt for business, but pleasure, a quick shopping trip while you were out of the house.

"For the chunk of change you cost, it better" the ghoul smiled, pink streaks creeping into his hair.

In his hands was a pink bottle shaped like a human heart, a perfume type atomizer spray bottle.

Beetlejuice KNEW you liked him, but he also knew you were a coward about it, yes your shyness was cute, and the way you danced around this fact did have its charms, but the time has come for you to spit it out, you had to make the first move, not him.

Yes the demon could charm you, but you wouldnt take him seriously, he knew that, beetlejuice knew his flirting towards you and his advances towards you were seen as a joke, and why wouldnt it, he knew he couldnt be taken seriously, he took every chance he had to make a crude joke, why would anyone take him seriously, so he played it up to get you to smile, or even to get you embarrassed was also nice.

But today was different, today beetlejuice was gonna get you to say "I love you" albeit with force, but that was something he could live/die with.

The ghoul, now buzzing electric pink and green ready's himself at the door, waiting for his sweet breather to come in him trap.

You were on your way back from the post office to pick up a package that you or beej werent home to sign for, it was just some clothes, nothing too exciting, but a nice excuse to get out of the house for a nice walk, as much as you loved spending time with your undead friend, who you may or may not have a crush on, it was nice to have some alone time.

You walk into you apartment complex and slowly make it back to your flat, you fumble with your keys as you unlock the door, the soft jingle and muffled cursing was a great single to beetlejuice that you were home, the ghoul takes a deep breath, not that he needed too, and gets into position, readying the bottle's nozzle to the level of your face.

"I'm home-" was all you got out before receiving a face full of god knows what, you prayed it was water, wiping your face and rubbing your eyes, you didnt need to see who the culprit was for this shitty joke, pulling your hands from your face, you saw the demon standing infront of you, arms stretched out in a pre hug position, eyes closed, lips puckered, slightly leaning towards you.

Your anger quickly faded, but was replaced with confusion, you say nothing but only stare at the ghoul.

Seconds pass, beetlejuice opens on eye to see what the hold up was, was there a delay with the potion? Does it take a minute to kick in? Or was it a peice of junk?

Beetlejuice drops his awkward position, and smooths back his hair, trying to hide to spots the purple trying to emerge.

"So y/n, welcome home" he starts off shaky "you feel okay? Maybe a little warmer? Heart beating a little faster? Maybe even a little eager to jump someone or tell them something deep?" Subtle

"What are you talking about? Beetlejuice what the hell was that about?!" You huff

The ghoul is taken back by your tone, he was expecting you to be more soft, after a spray of that crap, he scowls glancing down to the bottle in his hands, waste of money, unless, he drops his scowl and focuses back to you, a sly smile plastered across his face.

"Just some netherworld perfume, very popular stuff, thought I'd surprise my favorite breather with it"

"Suprise is right" you grumble walking passed him, heading to the living room you place your things on the table, beetlejuice was quick to follow.

"How bout another try babes? I promise I wont get ya in the face, though I prefer to squirt ya in the face~"

"I dont know bee, I'm not that really into perfume" you shurg

Beetlejuice frowns and huffs out his nose, for what he paid for this peice of shit he wasnt gonna give up after one shot.

"Come on babes, do it for your good pal~" he pleads

You frown in response

"Okay sugar, you know regardless of what you say I'm gonna get what I want, so just play ball"

"Fine" you grumble, you can always take a shower later, hell you were going to anyway, your face felt gross after being hit by that stuff earlier.

The demon's face lights up at your answer, you held out your wrist as an indicator that you wanted to be sprayed their and were ready for it, though that wish was completely ignored, as the ghoul quickly leans forward and sprays you in the face again.

The ghoul stares at you praying to whatever and whoever for this to work, you turn away from the demon, curse under your breath and rub at your face.

As you rub your face beetlejuice goes back into position, arms stretched out, lips puckered, ready to receive your love, and hoping you wont banish him if this didnt work.

Moving your hands from your face you let out sigh, you jolt feeling a familiar twinge in your lower reigns, a desperate pulse for attention, you could feel your heart racing, your head was swimming, turning to face the ghoul, the second you laid your eyes on him the pulsing inbetween your legs intensifies, give let out a soft "bee" before leaping into his arms, slamming your lips into his, and wrapping your legs around his waist. The demon's eyes shoot open at this, his hands were quick to grab onto your rear, a mix of holding you up and feeling you up, his hair bloomed from green to pink in a flash, hell he was so excited his stripes went from black to pink.

"Oh Lawrence" you breathed between kisses, beetlejuice only hummed in response, too lost in this bliss to think.

"Couch?" You whine as you wiggle your hips against his semi.

"Holy crap" he groans, this was really happening, he quickly brought you to the couch, flopping down on his back, having you sit pretty on top of him.

You continue to kiss him, shoving your tongue in his mouth, the ghoul loved you taking charge, he dreamed of it often, he didnt put up a fight and gave you the dominance to explore his mouth, pulling away to breath, a nice line of spit connected the two of you. You move your attention on to the demon's neck, peppering it with kisses and giving the occasional nip at his cold flesh.

Beetlejuice was over the moon with this change in demeanor, who knew his y/n would have it in them, the ghoul purs feeling your hands roam his body, his hands plant firmly on your rear, giving it a small pinch every once and again, everytime you would respond with a whine.

He was in heaven, or as close as an undead demon was gonna get.

You give his tie a tug, as if to ask for permission to continue, beetlejuice moans encouraging you to keep going.

You give the demon a quick kiss on the lips, moving to his jawline, to his neck, as you untie his tie, you toss the garment aside as you start to work on his shirt's buttons, kissing every inch of skin that is slowly revealed.

You move down his body, the demons chest and stomach fully exposed, and kissed, beetlejuice was in a complete daze from your love, but quickly snaps out of it when he feels you palm the tent in his pants.

"Whoa babes-"

"Is this for me?~" you coo "it looks so big~" you sigh giving the tent a light squeeze "it's really hard"

Beetlejuice quickly sits up, stifling a moan.

"Babes, y/n, just hold it-"

"Oh, would you rather be on top?" You ask softly crawling towards him "or would you rather I not use my hands? I can give it a kiss if you want" You crawl back into the demon's arms leaning in for another kiss, you stumble forward as beetlejuice quickly vanished, reappearing a few feet away from you, the demon pulling his shirt together, as if trying to hide himself.

"Let's just take a second here, likes put a pin in this, and ah, just relax" god slash satan this wasnt fair, and maybe 100 percent his fault, here you were drugged out of your mind begging him to have sex with you, jesus all he needed from you was a simple "I love you" not this, but he'll sure be thinking about this later.

"Why dont ya cool down babes, and we can talk about this"

"How can I cool down, when I'm so hot for you" you moan as you  unbutton your shirt, fully exposing your lacy black bra, the demon swallows hard, you slowly stand up letting your shirt fall, your hands traveling behind your back as you unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

"Oh fuck"  beetlejuice whines in a higher pitch,

You slowly make your way over to him, gently grabbing one of his hands and bringing it to your exposed chest "your hands are so nice and cold, maybe you could help me cool down?"

God slash satan did he wanted to give your boob a nice squeeze, but you're not you right now, he pulls his hand away, then places both of his hands on your shoulders, your skin was hot to the touch. Averting your gaze he clears his throat

"Maybe a cold shower would be help ya out"

"Maybe if you join me" you sigh leaning into the demon's chest, your hands resting on his hips.

"Y/n-"

"Are you sure you dont want help with your 'little friend'?"

Any other time he'd be delighted to have you help, but now was not that time.

"Let's just take a second here babes, we'll fool around later okay, I mean do you have condoms? I dont have any on me, we need protection"  beetlejuice knew he couldnt get you sick or pregnant since he was a dead demon, but you didnt know that. "And besides, no means no, you know that y/n" BJ didnt exactly blame you, you werent in your right mind, you were horny as hell thanks to that stupid potion, of course you couldnt think straight.

You pull away from him, mortified at your pushy behavior "I'm sorry" you breath out "I just, I couldn't help myself Lawrence, you're just, I mean, i just love you so much, my body needed you" you began to cry "you're always saying how much you want me, and how you're "ready to go" all the time, I just thought-" you babbled, tears rolling down your cheeks

I love you

Those 3 little words he ached to hear, not how he wanted to hear them, but this whole thing was a mess.

"Babes, it's okay, I was enjoying it, believe me, it's just that I'm not ready to go all the way with you, let's just give it some time" which wasnt true, if you were willing so was he, willing as in not drugged. "And yeah, I talk a big game, but believe me doll, i want our first time to be special, so Hows bought you go put a top on, and we can put this little mess behind us?" It was an odd day when this harbinger of chaos had to be a voice of reason.

You nodded as you slip away to collect your bra and shirt that were tossed aside, beetlejuice frowns at this situation and wanders off to the item that started it, retrieving the bottle he squints at the label to read the rest of the instructions he didnt bother reading, and their it was, in the fine print 'warning, do not use on the living, results may vary and are not limited to  nausea, drowsiness, intense sexual desires-' he groans then curses.

"Beetlejuice?"

The ghoul turns his attention to you, fully dressed.

"No hard feelings, aside from your, you know"

The demon gives you a soft laugh "no hard feelings babes"

"Could I have a hug? I promise to behave" it's not that the pulsing in your loins stopped, in fact the intensity was stronger now, you just wanted to be close the ghoul before dealing with these feelings alone, there was no harm in that

Beetlejuice pauses for a second, before smiling "alright sugar, bring it in" there was no harm in a hug, sure his dick was still kinda hard, but that's fine.

You walk into the ghoul's arms, slowly circling your own around him, beetlejuice gently pats your back. You nuzzle into his neck, and whisper "I love you Lawrence" before planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Pulling away from the ghoul, his scent, and touch fresh in your mind you make your way to the bathroom to shower, amongst other things.

If you were to turn back you would have seen a glowing pink Beej who's legs are about to give out

"ARRGHHH! That's worse... They're killing me again!" 

The should of the shower rings through the ghoul's ears, he grumbles as he puts his suit back together, grabbing the bottle that started it all he snaps his fingers and vanishes, off to give the schmuck who sold this to him a peice if his mind.

...

A few hours later beetlejuice reappears into your living room, grumbling to himself as he tucks the bottle into his jacket, no sense tossing it, maybe when the two of you are knocking boots, he could use it as an aphrodisiac, with your consent of course.

"Bee? Is that you?" Your voice rings through your flat, it was late, beetlejuice was hoping youd be asleep when he came back.

The ghoul makes his way to your room.

"Yeah, I had to take care of something"

"I was just about to go to bed" you were sitting on your bed wearing an over sized shirt that just covered your bum, the ghoul's eyes glance about, stopping at your vibrator that was now laying on the floor, he could smell the sex in the air, another time this would have been delightful.

"Do you want to join me? Sleeping? Like you normally do?" You sounded a tad too eager "I mean if you feel comfortable"

Beetlejuice gives you smile "sure" he snaps away his suit, leaving a pair of boxers, seeing your eyes light up was something he had to burn in his brain forever.

You scramble under the covers waiting for the demon to join you, which he promptly did.

"Is it okay if I snuggle with you?" You ask softly

"Anything you want babes" he purred, you quickly snuggle up to him, using his soft chest as a pillow, your hand petting the hair on his stomach.

"If you change your mind, I'm not wearing any panties" you whisper in the demons ear.

This was gonna be a long night

...

Bonus

The next morning beetlejuice woke up to an empty bed, confused he made his way to the living room, and there you were, sitting on the couch with your face in your hands.

"Morning?" He greets you

No response

"Babes?"

Nothing, beetlejuice makes his way to you, sitting down next to you, he places a hand on your shoulder, you flinch.

"Wake up and smell the coffee babycakes-"

"I am so sorry for yesterday, I- i don't know what came over me, i- beetlejuice, I so sorry for putting you into that type of situation, I-" you sobbed

The ghoul's hair quickly bloomed purple, you're blaming yourself for what he did to you "dont worry your pretty little head sweetheart, it was that perfume, how was I supposed to know it messed with breathers, believe me I gave that guy who sold it to me a peice of my mind, my poor little y/n warped and twisted into someone hornier then me" it wasnt all true, but beetlejuice couldnt have you beating yourself up over this, nor did he want to tell you the full truth.

"Really?" You sniffle

"Really"

You lean into the demon and he pulls you into a soft embrace, patting your back.

"How's bout we order some take out and I put a smile on that sweet face of yours?"

You pull away from beetlejuice and rub away your tears "I'd like that"

#musical beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x reader #nsft

[jackrrabbit]

it will come back [pt. 2] /// Yandere Shigaraki x f!Reader

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 1] [Part 3]

A/N: Title from the Hozier song—“don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ, don’t be kind to it / oh honey don’t feed it / it will come back.”

Tags/warnings: yandere, violence (not directed toward reader), crying, Shiggy REALLY likes you, reader needs a friend and a good night’s sleep, non-explicit sexual content. [In later parts: 18+, sex, other stuff]

He—Tomura—keeps visiting.

At first you think it’s because of the free medical care, and you wish you had the spine to tell him to suck it up and go see a professional. After a couple weeks turn into a couple months and his wounds fade into ragged purple scars, though, you start to think differently.

Within a short time Tomura has figured out your work schedule, and he does a decent job of not showing up after your long shifts. The unavoidable consequence of this is that he ends up monopolizing your precious days off, but you come to the realization about a month and a half in that you don’t actually mind. You like it. It’s like spending time with a friend.

Mostly you guys talk. It doesn’t seem like Tomura really has anyone to talk to the way the two of you do, but that’s probably just you projecting. It’s usually shallow stuff—TV shows you like, video games he plays, funny stories from patients you treated. Sometimes when you’re cooking for yourself, you make extra for him. (It happens a lot, actually, and at one point you bring up how much his appetite is costing you and the next time you see him he brings a bag of rice and makes you a porridge that crunches between your teeth when you try to eat it. You can’t finish yours, but he eats an entire bowl and insists that you’re being picky.)

Sometimes he sleeps over on the couch, but he’s always gone when you wake up.

The two of you skirt around the heavier stuff, and you know it’s intentional on his part. You have to resist the urge to ask him about being a villain—he’s all but confirmed it for you, and it’s human nature to be curious, isn’t it? In the same way you can’t help looking at a car crash, you want to poke and prod and find out what it is, exactly, that Tomura does for a living. That part of his life is suspiciously absent from your discussions—if you didn’t know better, you’d think he spends all of his time sleeping and playing games and breaking into your place.

On the other hand, you don’t want to know. Plausible deniability. You can accept criminality in the abstract, but you’ve treated too many victims of the bullshit hero–villain battle to be comfortable really knowing why Tomura avoids public places.

So you don’t ask about it, and Tomura doesn’t tell, and you don’t look up his name. And it’s easy. It’s nice. You’d forgotten what it’s like to come back to a home that isn’t empty.

And then one day when you get off a few hours early from your shift, you stop by a convenience store to pick up some snacks for yourself (hey, you’ve been working hard, you’re entitled to binge a little on foods that you’re afraid to look at the fat content for), and you think, Hm, I wonder if Tomura wants some.

[You: 7:49 PM] > Are you coming over today? [T: 7:49 PM] > Yeah why [You: 7:51 PM] > Getting snacks > Want some? [T: 7:51 PM] > No

[T: 8:12 PM] > When r u coming back to ur place

[T: 8:58 PM] > Hey where are you

[T: 9:39 PM] > (Y/N)?

There’s a man with a gun in the convenience store.

It takes you a second to process at first. You’re standing in the snack food aisle seeking out Oreos and debating the merits of Double Stuf vs. Mega when you catch the mumbled demand and the metallic clicking noise you’ve only ever heard in movies before. It’s a gun—you know that, but your mind dismisses it because it’s ridiculous. Guns are rare in hero society. People don’t go around robbing bodegas at gunpoint anymore.

(You should know better. You work in a goddamn ER. But you compartmentalize, and the crimes you see written across your patients’ bodies stay out of the realm of your personal life because you need them to.)

It’s only when you see the muzzle of a hunting rifle pushed up to the cashier’s sweaty neck that you really understand what’s happening.

You drop to the ground immediately, looking toward the exit but it’s shut and there’s some kind of metal…thing holding the door closed. The cashier mumbles a denial and you can hear him fumble around with the cash drawer for what feels like ages.

It’s real. This is real. You’re in the middle of a robbery. Where are the heroes? Why isn’t anyone doing anything?

God, you’re a hypocrite, cowering behind the aisle divider and waiting for someone to step up while the robber’s demands get increasingly louder and more frantic. He wants money, and the cashier (who, you remember, is a man in his sixties with hands that shake with Parkinson’s when he holds out your receipt) isn’t being fast enough.

“That’s it? There’s no more? Are you fucking kidding me, there’s gotta be a safe or something—“

“No! No, p-please, I’m sorry, this is all I have!”

You cringe, crushing your eyes closed as if that will make it go away. You’re surprised you can hear at all over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

“Don’t fuck with me old man, I know there’s more! Show me the safe or I’ll blow your goddamn brains out!”

No! You have to do something. You can’t just sit here. You’ve heard plenty of death threats from your patients (not to mention that one from Tomura), and you know the difference between a bluff and a serious warning. Maybe you can catch the robber off guard, try to pull the gun away? You stand up quickly, hoping against hope that you won’t regret this, but in a split second you see that the cashier has the same idea and he’s trying to pull the rifle out of the robber’s hand and—

BANG.

Something warm and wet splatters across your face.

///

Tomura is angry when you get back to the apartment. As soon as he hears your key in the lock he rises from your couch so he can grab your collar with three fingers, jerking your head up to force you to look at him. “Where have you been? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting—“

But he cuts short in the middle of his sentence. Maybe because he sees the look on your face. Or maybe he just notices the traces of blood you haven’t been able to wipe off.

“What happened,” Tomura says. It’s not a question. He adjusts his grip slightly so it’s not quite as punishing, but you hold still anyway.

You have to force your mouth open in order to speak, but when your voice comes out it’s more steady than you thought it would be. “It’s not my blood. There was a robbery at the store. The cashier got shot.”

“Oh.” He releases you and frowns. “That’s it?”

“Fuck you.” You push past him into the kitchen to get yourself a drink with trembling hands. Pantry’s out of shōchū, whiskey will just make you sicker—ahh, there it is. Baijiu. The glug glug glug of the liquor into the glass does nothing to put your nerves at ease, but you pour yourself a double anyway.

“Wait—wait.” Tomura’s hands twitch and rub over his arms like he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. “Calm down. Why are you so upset? Don’t you see this stuff every day?”

You do. You’re an ER nurse. There’s no injury you haven’t seen. But it’s not about the blood. “I...I knew him. The cashier. He was nice. He had a grandkid on the way. I—“ You bite your lip and down the baijiu in one gulp. It burns.

Tomura clearly doesn’t know how to comfort you; probably doesn’t even really know why you need to be comforted. What does it mean that death is so meaningless to him? you wonder. But you need someone to listen to you, clueless or not, and Tomura will have to do.

The baijiu is still bitter and hot down your throat when you speak again. “You know something? Know what they asked me when the heroes finally showed up and pulled us out of there, me and the corpse?”

“…What?” Tomura asks warily.

“They stuck a camera in my face and asked me if there was anything I wanted to say to the hero who saved me. Any words of gratitude I wanted to share,” you spit. Now it’s your turn to feel your hands making fists at your sides. Your fingernails scratch into your palms like the pain can be an outlet for the sudden overwhelming fury spilling over you. “They didn’t save him. They were too late.”

Tomura’s eyes widen, and through your curtain of anger you can tell he’s looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. It’s unlike him to even look directly at you, and when he does it’s usually in disinterest or half-sincere irritation. This, though…this is different. He’s watching you like a believer watches a prophet. You can tell—or at least some deep, ugly part of you that you hope is wrong can tell—that he’s trying not to smile.

“I hate this,” you say, and the first tear drips out of your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s awful. You don’t want to cry in front of Tomura. You don’t want to show him how weak you are. But before you can wipe it away, Tomura’s hand comes up and does it for you, smearing the tear over your cheek in a gesture that—for him—is oddly tender.

Then he hugs you.

It’s stiff and awkward, like he’s forgotten how to do it, but the intention is clear. His arms fold around your back, pulling you into his chest while his chin makes its way to rest on your shoulder. He’s leaning into you so deeply that your spine is arched back, and you stagger away from him only for him to step closer again to make up the distance.

“It’s not fair, hm,” he murmurs into your hair. His tone is the closest thing to sympathy you’ve ever heard from him, but there’s an undercurrent of excitement you can’t ignore. “They’re always too late, aren’t they? The heroes… And everyone will watch that video of you thanking the heroes, and they’ll think they’re safe too. They’ll keep going about their lives and think that nothing bad can happen to them because a hero will always be around to save them…but you and I know that’s a lie.”

It takes you a second to recognize the emotion that’s raising goosebumps over your arms while Tomura rubs circles into your back, but when it clicks you shiver because it’s fear. You’ve never really been afraid of Tomura before, even when you should’ve been. Does he realize he’s backing you up with how forcefully he’s pushing himself into you? The backs of your knees hit the arm of your couch and you topple onto it with Tomura following.

He holds himself above you on his hands, legs tangled with yours. His eyes are wild and he’s not even trying to suppress his grin now. You’re trapped lying on your back under him—pinned like a butterfly under glass.

“Get off of me,” you say as calmly as you can.

“It’s all a lie, all of it…” A hand comes up and strokes your cheek, rubbing with two fingers at a stray fleck of blood on your neck. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, but I’m so glad you understand…”

“Let me up now, Tomura.”

He holds still for a long moment—waiting, thinking, considering—and then sits up, still straddling you but loosely enough that you can scramble back away from him on the couch. Your heart is racing, but you try to slow your breaths so he doesn’t pick up on how scared you are.

“Don’t freak out. You’re no fun,” Tomura says, and you exhale a sigh of relief at how normal he sounds. You never thought you’d be so happy about him looking at you like you’re nothing.

“I think you should go,” you say carefully.

He rocks back on his heels and runs a hand through his hair. “Are you mad? I thought I could stay here tonight, like usual. Since I waited for so long.”

“I’m not mad. I just…want to be alone.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone tonight. Not after what you’ve been through.”

Oh, now you care. “Fine. Okay? Fine. You can sleep on the couch.” You’re too tired to argue any more, and you’ve never really been good at convincing Tomura to do anything he doesn’t want to. It’s a miracle he listened to you when you told him to get off you. Considering how often he breaks into your apartment, it’s not like you could keep him out anyway.

So he stays the night. He doesn’t bother you when you take a shower and go to bed, he just lies on the couch in his street clothes. When you wake up in the morning he’s disappeared like he always does, and for the first time since you met him you’re truly relieved that he’s gone.

///

You always thought it would take some level of courage you don’t possess to actually bite the bullet and look Tomura up. To do so would mean saying goodbye to whatever strange relationship the two of you have built over the months, and you’re just not brave enough to risk it.

Turns out it’s not courage that makes you type his name into the search bar. It’s cowardice. You’re lying in bed under the covers when you do it, and the blue-white screen of your laptop is the only light in the room. Your comforter is pulled up almost over your head like it’s a wall that can block out reality.

“tomura”, you enter into the search bar, but you don’t hit return. Instead, you look at the search suggestions.

> tomura shigaraki > tomura shigaraki league of villains > tomura shigaraki decay

Something about it sounds familiar. But you’re not ready. Still, after everything, you’d rather keep your eyes closed. You backspace and snap your laptop shut, and when you do your room is so dark that you think the emptiness might swallow you up.

///

[T: 5:52 PM] > Are u going to be at home tn

[T: 6:14 PM] > Hey check ur phone

[T: 6:42 PM] > Stop ignoring me > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N)

[T: 6:46 PM] 3 MISSED CALLS [You: 6:50 PM] > I’m at work [T: 6:50 PM] > Don’t lie > you finished an hour ago

[T: 7:13 PM] 1 MISSED CALL [T: 7:14 PM] > You said you werent mad [You: 7:15 PM] > I’m not [T: 7:15 PM] > Then stop being a brat > im coming over > ill bring takeout

You’re nervous about seeing him, but in the two weeks since he pushed you down on the couch you’ve found yourself…missing him. Like it or not, he’s made himself a fixture in your life. So when you get home you’re brimming with anticipation, wondering who you’ll get when you open the door—the normal Tomura you’ve come to like over the past few months, or the one from that night. The villain.

But it’s just him. Good old Tomura, laden with plastic bags and containers of greasy fast food for the two of you to gorge yourselves on. You tease him for being cheap and he argues that you’re just a snob and everything seems so normal that you can almost forget the look in his red eyes when he told you that you understood.

Almost.

///

You probably have no idea how good you look when you’re crying.

Of the couple thousand views on the news channel video of your “rescue” from the convenience store robber, at least a tenth are from Tomura. Eventually he just downloads the video onto his computer so he doesn’t have to read the inane comments that the other viewers leave on the webpage. It seems like everyone but him thinks you should feel lucky that you were saved by a hero before the robber could get to you, too.

As always, the public are a bunch of shit-soaked morons. Reading the comments makes him angry, so angry he’s tempted to look into a few of these brainless sheep and see how lucky they feel when they’ve caught the attention of a violent criminal. But that wouldn’t be productive, so he saves the video externally and leaves the news website alone. It’s for the best. Besides, seeing the “views” counter on the website tick up and up by the dozen every time he refreshes is just another reminder that other people are watching this; other people are seeing how delicate and vulnerable and pretty you are with tears spilling out of your eyes and the cashier’s blood sprayed over your clothing.

Thousands of useless fucking NPCs are looking at you just like Tomura is. They’re probably thinking about how sweet you look, just like he is. And they’re probably imagining all the ways they can take advantage of your fragile emotional state, just like him.

You’re too trusting for your own good. Tomura used to think it was a virtue, and it is, but only when it comes to him. Whenever he thinks about how your face is slapped over a dozen different news websites for the whole world to see, he has to dig his fingernails into his neck to keep calm. It’s better when he can just watch the video and pretend he’s the only one seeing it.

And it’s not like not watching the video is an option. Tomura can’t resist your crying face. There’s a point around the three minute mark where your voice breaks in the middle of your statement, and sometimes Tomura skips there in the video just so he can hear that pathetic little sob and replay it over and over and over. Maybe it’s sappy, but Tomura really does feel his heart skip a beat at the way your eyes and nose are rubbed red from your misery.

How fucked up is it that he gets off watching you cry?

Would you be angry if you knew? You probably would, but you put up with so much from him already. Maybe you’d be okay with it if he told you he really and truly tried to hold out. The first dozen times Tomura watched the video, he refused to touch himself no matter how tight his pants got while you choked out your stilted answers to the reporters’ questions, but at this point he barely has to click “play” on the video before he gets hard and takes matters into his own hands.

At the end of the day, it’s your fault. Everything about you is so erotic, from your shaky voice to your pouty, bitten-red lips. Isn’t it completely normal to be aroused while looking at the person you like? And Tomura likes you, he really likes you. He doesn’t have any pictures of you, and with the high definition of the news channel’s video he can see every perfect contour of your cheekbones, every pore in your skin, every glistening wet eyelash.

It’s not that Tomura doesn’t feel sympathy for how upset you are in the video. He does! Not even just sympathy, even—he’s empathetic. He knows exactly how it feels to be let down by the heroes. How dare they tell you you need to be grateful while you’re still trying to wipe brain matter off your shirt? Always too little, too late. It’s not fair.

But if he’s being honest? As miserable as you are, Tomura is happy that you were in the store when that robber came in and that you had to watch a man you knew get his brains blown out in front of you. You need a wake-up call to lose faith in hero society. If you have to suffer some emotional trauma in the process, that seems like a fair price to pay.

And the fact that Tomura gets to jerk off to it? It’s almost like destiny.

➠ [Part 3]

#Shigaraki Tomura x reader #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere Shigaraki Tomura x reader #yandere Shigaraki Tomura #0 to 100 real quick? #mha x reader #bnha imagines #Shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki Tomura #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #mha #my hero academia #mha imagines #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #Yandere #yandere bnha x reader #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia x reader #yandere mha #yandere mha x reader #yandere Shigaraki #yandere Shigaraki x reader

[raamyun-and-rambles]

Of Qingxins and Rattles: One

Fandom: Genshin Impact  Pairing: Xiao x Reader 

Summary: He's afraid to reach out, to touch something so pure that a being like him must never hold. The voices in his head scream blasphemy and lies.

———–

Xiao was a being that has existed for thousands of centuries. 

Which meant that he has outlived countless of people, watching them come and go as they eventually get taken by the passage of time.

It was also safe to say that the yaksha has experienced much more than any other mortal could in their entire lifetime. He's travelled the entirety of Liyue on foot, has bore witness to phenomenon that people could only talk about in hushed whispers as the eons pass them by and has fought a number of battles that no human could ever imagine. The blood that stained his hands wasn't something that could be easily washed away and Xiao was convinced that anything good touched by those hands would wither and perish. He was a sinner and Xiao was determined to live the rest of his life paying off the debt of his sins in perpetual agony until you waltzed into his life, turning everything he's come to known in disarray the moment he saw the breeze catch locks of your  (h/c)  as you overlooked Dihua Marsh from Wangshu Inn's balcony.

In retrospect, the Yaksha should have known better than to meddle in trivial human affairs. You were just another face among thousands he's met. You shouldn't have been able to draw him in the way you did. Yet here he was now, putty in your arms as you stroked gentle circles on the small of his back, whispering words of love and reassurance that Xiao knows he doesn't deserve but soaks it up all the same. 

Perhaps...just maybe - Xiao thinks with a hopeful afterthought as his lips press against yours in a silent act of worship of your presence, fingers ghosting feather light touches onto your skin - maybe he too deserved even a moment of respite, to love and be loved.

To simply exist in bliss. 

Xiao looks at you with a gaze that displays deep unspoken emotion. He watches you in awe even with the simplest of his things.

He watches in awe as you work your way in the kitchen, weaving your way through the space and he fights back a chuckle as you almost trip. He catches you before you could hurt yourself though (he always does).

He watches in awe even when you rouse from your sleep, admiring the way the sun bathes you in a warm glow as it floods into the room from the open window. He admires the way your lashes slowly flutter as you attempt to blink away the sleep that raptures your system, sending him a small smile as you nuzzle further into his embrace, murmuring something about needing a couple more hours of rest. Xiao scoffs at that every time, knowing you'd oversleep (yet he always allows you). 

Mortal traditions don't normally interest Xiao, yet he watches in awe as you walked down the makeshift aisle the inn staff had prepared, donned in fine silk and Qingxin braided in your hair. Xiao thought you've never looked more beautiful, like a goddess that has descended from Celestia itself. It takes him a while to recover from the sight and by then you're already standing next to him with the brightest of smiles, holding his hand and intertwining your fingers. The entire world tuned out of existence and the only thing Xiao could see was you. He doesn't even remember what he said for his vows, too awestruck to even form a coherent sentence as his thoughts reeled a thousand miles per second. Whatever it was he said seemed to make you happy and Xiao allows himself to smile as he slips the ring onto your finger. There weren't many to bear witness to the day you both promised to be one - except perhaps Verr, Huai'an and the traveler who each played a part - but for Xiao it was more than enough to feel the plush of your lips against his under the light of the moon and the stars.

(Zhongli couldn't help but smile at the scene before him but he leaves without another word, receding into the darkness of the night before anyone could take notice.) 

Xiao worried the most throughout your pregnancy and even more so on the day you gave birth. Mortals are far too fragile of a creature and Xiao was hyperaware of this fact as he paced to and fro outside the door, could only hear the way you cry out and the midwife's gentle encouragement as she eases you through the process. There was a moment of silence and Xiao had to fight the urge to burst into the room, thinking that something terrible must have gone wrong until suddenly there was a tiny cry and Xiao's heart seized up in his throat. 

He was allowed inside a moment later and he immediately moves to your side, gently stroking your hair as you smiled up at him tiredly before turning your gaze to the baby swaddled in your arms. 

"Congratulations," the midwife had said, a smile on her face before leaving the room, "it's a healthy baby girl." 

No amount of words could have ever expressed the emotion swirling in Xiao's eyes, both anxiety, joy and excitement clashing within amber speckled orbs but his hand stops in mid-air and all of a sudden time feels as though it was suddenly put to a halt.

Is this truly alright?

He's afraid to reach out, to touch something so pure that a being like him must never hold. The voices in his head scream blasphemy and lies.

Perhaps this was just some dream he's conjured up in the hazy murk of his mind and he'll wake up on the roof of the inn like he's always had with only the frigid wind keeping him company. That's right, maybe this wasn't true at all. He's simply far too gone that he's fabricated an ideal world of his making. One where he lives in peace, where he's loved and accepted. The iron tang of blood suddenly fills the air and all at once he imagines the battles he's fought, the sickening squelch of metal against flesh and the dust and grime of battles waged in war. The screams, the cries, the pain, the agony- 

A small hand wrapping itself around his pinky successfully pulls him out of his trance and the soft giggle and coo that followed after it made Xiao's chest constrict tightly with an emotion he can't seem to place. 

Xiao's breath catches in his throat as the small fist around his finger grounded him back to reality.

For a moment Xiao felt stupid for allowing himself to be consumed by how his mind wandered back into one of the darkest fragments of his memory, how could he when he was in front of the very two things that shone light in his life of perpetual agony? 

The adepti allowed a shaky breath himself a shaky breath at long last, leaning closer so he could rest his head against yours while he allowed his daughter to hold onto his pinky. 

"Can I..." he started, fumbling with his words as he kept his gaze fixated on the infant, "can I hold her?" 

The apprehension in his voice was terribly apparent and in an effort to calm his nerves you gently press a kiss to his cheek, nodding before carefully placing the child in his awkward attempt of a cradle. He quickly adjusts himself with your careful guidance, much more silent than he already usually is as the baby babbled sleepily. You will yourself to stay awake despite the fatigue and discomfort settling in your bones, opting instead to lean back against the headboard as you watch Xiao marvel in the presence of your child. 

"I'll protect you." Xiao says a moment later, voice soft yet filled with determination. 

He turns to face you this time and you swore you saw his eyes glisten with the beginning of tears but you don't get so much of a second chance to look before he rests his forehead against your shoulder, purposely hiding so you won't see the way he breaks and the vulnerability that lies behind the battle-hardened warrior of one of Rex Lapis' strongest Yakshas.

"I'll protect the both of you no matter what the cost." 

You're both terribly precious to me. 

———–

I feel like I idealize relationships with these characters so much because of how touch-starved and affection craved I am but I live for soff Xiao so here. Take this mushy thing I made during class again wwww

I do hope it wasn’t too OOC at least

#Genshin Impact #Genshin Impact Xiao #genshin impact fanfiction #Genshin Impact x Reader #Xiao x Reader #Of Qingxins and Rattles

[ask-the-riders]

Mother’s Day for Conquest

I know I’m super late with this, but eh. I wanted to write something for Mother’s Day that was centered around Connie, so ye XP

There’s some cuteness with Mortem, where he gives her a special gift. He tells her that he bought it all by himself, but that’s just a coverup; What Connie doesn’t know was that while she wasn’t paying attention, some of her teammates worked together to make the gift for her

You’ll also see some of the riders kinda bonding a little, and then as a bonus, Retribution’s inner Nootmare begins to show a little

"Mom?"

Conquest shifted her attention to her son, smiling tiredly, "Yes, Sweetheart?" Mortem stepped closer to her, holding out a box, "I got you something." The rider tilted her head, carefully accepting the box from him, "Oh, thank you, Morty. What's this for?" Her son raised a brow bone at her and gave her a clear look of confusion, "...Did you forget what day it is, Mom? It's Mother's Day." Her cheekbones flushed a soft shade of orange in vague embarrassment and her tired smile became sheepish, "Ah, yeah. I guess I did forget what day it is, whoopsy daisy." Mortem sat beside her on their sofa, lightly laying his head on her shoulder and fidgeting, "Uh huh. Hurry up and open your gift, though! It's really special!"

Able to sense his growing excitement, Connie smiled to herself again and began to carefully unwrap the gift. Once the wrapping paper was removed and placed on the floor by her feet, she popped off the lid of the decorative box and paused, her breath hitching and her sockets momentarily widening; In the box before her was a beautiful necklace, its pendant comprised of blue gemstones that were shaped to resemble an echo flower. Mortem fidgeted again, pointing at the middle of the flower, "There's a button here for you to push, too." Conquest nodded, gingerly pressing the button he'd gestured to, and a recording switched on, playing a single line in the voice of her son: "I love you, mom!"

For a moment, Conquest was at a loss for words; She really hadn't been expecting such a nice gift from anyone today. By the looks of it, this wasn't a cheap one, either. Wrapping an arm around the child, she offered him a warm smile, "Oh my goodness, it's beautiful! Thank you, Morty, I love it a lot." Mortem beamed at her, puffing up with pride, "You're welcome!" She couldn't help but laugh softly at how proud he looked, shaking her head; He was such a good kid... She really couldn't have asked for a better child.

Lightly nudging him with her shoulder, she hummed, "How in the world were you able to get this for me? It looks like it'd cost quite a bit of money." Her son mimicked her, humming and nudging her back with his own shoulder, "I saved up the money Glo gave me for doing my chores, and then I had Uncle Ret take me shopping. He even let me pick it out all by myself." Conquest's expression softened and she sighed, still smiling, "Well color me shocked. Usually you get antsy and spend your allowance pretty fast, Mister. I'm surprised you saved it up for this long." He grinned at her, "I know. I had Glo help me, though! She helped me save my money."

Connie's smile widened slightly, "Awe, well that was really nice of her! Did you tell her thank you for all the help?" Mortem nodded his head, "Uh huh!" The rider leaned closer to press a kiss to her child's forehead, lifting a hand to gently caress his skull as she pulled away, "Good, I'm really glad. You always do such a good job remembering to use your manners, you know that?" Mortem smiled again, almost looking bashful all of a sudden, "Thank you, Mom." Conquest continued to gently caress Mortem's skull for a few more seconds before she tapped his forehead, causing him to draw back a bit and giggle.

The gesture, although small and likely somewhat strange to others that'd seen it, was a habit she'd adopted, and whenever she'd done it, it was always meant to convey affection. It was light-hearted and oftentimes made Mortem laugh, but thankfully, he understood what it meant.

Setting the box down on her lap, she lifted a hand to delicately touch her scarf. Her thumb trailed over a name on the underside that'd been stitched into the fabric and she smiled again to herself. Very gingerly removing her scarf and setting it on her lap beside the box, she adjusted the collar of her dress and then proceeded to scoop up her new necklace. Mortem watched as she undid the clasp and slid both ends of the chain around her neck, and sensing his gaze on her, she offered him a sideways glance, accompanied by a tiny smile, "Do you think you could help me, Sweetheart?... I can't see where the clasp is, so that makes things a little tricky."

The child eagerly nodded, more than happy to help his mother. Turning slightly, she paid no mind as he scooted closer, his hands darting up to carefully take the ends of the chain from her, "Now Morty, just make sure not to make it too tight, ok?" He nodded again, "Ok, Mom... Should I just put the clasp thing in the first hole then?" Connie hummed softly in confirmation, "Mmhm. If that's what you wanna do, then go for it." After a moment of fumbling with the clasp, he managed to get it clipped into the first link, idly toying with the chain, "Is that ok?" Conquest made a sound in consideration, testing the tightness of the necklace before glancing back at him and offering him another warm smile, "Yep, it's perfect. Thank you for your help!"

Again, Mortem beamed, his chest puffed out with pride. Conquest sighed, feeling completely content as she pressed the button on her echo flower pendant again, listening to the recorded message from her son. Suddenly perking up, Mortem made a sound, as if remembering something, and before Connie could question him, he'd already dashed out of the room.

Entering his bedroom and carefully closing the door behind himself, he glanced around, and then crossed the room and began to rifle through one of his desk drawers. He withdrew two things; The first being a simple white envelope that contained a letter he'd written for his mom, and the second being an orange envelope that had some surprisingly elegant writing on one side. He wasn't sure what it contained, but despite his curiosity, he resisted the urge to peek. The lady that had delivered it that morning had been very polite when she asked him to be patient and wait for his mom to open it herself, so he told himself he'd listen to her and respect her wishes.

As he gathered up the envelopes, a voice softly called to him from within the shadows of the room, "Psst, Morty! Over here!" Attention immediately snapping to the patch of shadows the voice had come from, Mortem nearly dropped the envelopes, a grin stretching across his face. He trotted over to the shadows, excitedly screeching, and the upper half of Retribution's body emerged from the darkness. Pressing a finger over his teeth, he softly shushed his nephew, and the younger of the two mimicked him, repeating the motion and freezing in place. Once the easily excitable skeleton child settled down, the former prince murmured lowly, "So what'd she think of the necklace? Did she like it?"

Mortem immediately nodded, also lowering his voice, "Uh huh! It made her really happy, and she already put it on!" Ret offered Mortem a slight smile, "That's great, Buddy! I'm glad to hear it. Did she say anything about how pricey it was, or ask how you were able to get it for her?" The child nodded again, "Uh huh." "And what did you tell her?" Mortem hugged the envelopes close to his chest, "I said that I saved up my money from chores, and that you took me shopping." Retribution arched a brow bone, "You didn't say anything about how I paid for most of it?" The child shook his head, "Nope." The former prince let out a soft breath in relief, reaching out to pat his nephew's shoulder, "Good, good. Just like we discussed. Well done, Mortem."

In response to the praise, Morty smiled brightly, his cheekbones flushing a faint shade of orange. Without warning, he put the envelopes down and approached Retribution, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tightly. Ret's body twitched in surprise at the unexpected contact, and after he'd calmed himself, he returned the hug. Although his voice was muffled by the fabric of Ret's cloak, the former prince heard his nephew murmur, "I love you, Uncle Ret... You're the best." Retribution's expression softened and his smile became genuine as he lowly murmured back, "I love you too, Morty. You should probably get going now though, before your mom gets curious about what's taking you so long."

The child made a sound in agreement, "Ok, I will... Are you sure you can't stay longer?" Ret sighed, "I'm sure. I wish I could, but I have work to do today. If you'd like to visit me sometime though, I'm sure your mom would be more than happy to bring you." His nephew reluctantly pulled away from the hug and smiled at him again, "Ok, I'll ask her then if I can come see you soon." Ret lightly poked at Mortem's side, grinning to himself as the child squirmed and attempted to refrain from giggling, "Cool, that sounds like a plan, then. Seeya later, Kid." Mortem offered him a tiny wave, "Seeya, Uncle Ret." Retribution offered him a softer smile in return, before he sank back into the shadows and vanished completely from sight. Quickly gathering up the pair of envelopes, Mortem slipped out of his room, making his way back to the living room where his mom was waiting.

Warping out of the shadows in the hallway of his home, the former prince let out a soft breath as a realization dawned on him; For giving him her assistance, there was someone that he owed his thanks. Admitting that perhaps she'd managed to do something right for a change was doable, albeit a bit awkward for him. It was that awkwardness that he really wasn't looking forward to, but oh well.

Some things just have to be done.

Retribution began his journey toward the ex-pirate's room, trying to figure out how he would even word his appreciation in the first place. He and Abrael weren't exactly on the best of terms, and ever since she'd first arrived and been introduced as a member of the group, there'd been something about her that didn't sit well with him. He wasn't sure yet what it was, but the longer he went without knowing, the more it grew to bother him.

Arriving at his destination, he gave her closed bedroom door a few knocks, and then he stepped back, folding his arms behind his back. He could do this. He just needed to focus, and even though it'd probably make things a bit bothersome later on down the road, he would have to put his pride on the back burner. He drew in a deep breath, making an attempt to mentally and emotionally prepare for what he was about to do. The door opened, and Abrael immediately donned a look of confusion, clearly dumbfounded, "Uh... Ahoy, Ret. What are you doing here?" Retribution glanced around, looking anywhere other than directly at her, "Can I come in? Please? I would like to speak to you in private."

Abrael nodded, stepping aside to gesture into the room, "Be my guest." The former prince slipped into the room, still not looking at her, and once she was sure he was far enough away from the door that it wouldn't get caught on his cloak, she shut it behind him. Turning to face him and doing her best to ignore the impending sense of doom that'd begun to creep up on her. When he finally looked at her, it was with such intensity that she nearly flinched backward, and he furrowed his brow bones, "...Apologies for the awkward silence. I'm still trying to wrap my head around how exactly I'd like to word everything I have to say to you." The former pirate made a face, beginning to shrink under his stare, "...It's fine. Am I in trouble for something, or?..." She paused, lifting both hands in a gesture of surrender, "If this is about that missing bottle of wine, I can replace it. Just give me a little time."

All awkwardness Retribution felt melted away and he stared at her, his sockets narrowing in a mix of confusion and suspicion, "Wait, wait, wait. Missing bottle of wine? You broke into my stash? How did you even find it?" Abrael offered him an only mildly guilty grin, her shoulders tensing up, "...I'm very dedicated to things I'm really truly interested in, is all I can say. Because truth be told, I wasn't even purposely searching for it at the time." Ret groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "It doesn't matter. I'm not sure that I really want an honest answer to any of that, anyway." Abrael seemed to perk up, "So that bottle was a freebie then?" The former prince rolled his eye lights, "Yeah, sure, whatever. That's not why I’m here, though. I had other things to talk to you about."

The ex-pirate cocked her head to the side, staring at him in confusion, "...That wasn't it? What else was there?" Doing his best to swallow his pride, he glanced away from her, "Those gemstones you gave me. Topaz and Zircon, I believe. I... Wanted to thank you for allowing me to take them. The different shades of blue complimented each other very well, and the necklace turned out beautifully." Abrael blinked, silent for a moment as she processed his words; He was actually... He was thanking her for something, and there wasn't a single insult anywhere in sight. Huh.

She smiled awkwardly, giving a half shrug and absentmindedly picking at part of her sleeve, "Oh, that. Don't mention it. 'M a pirate, remember?" She allowed her accent to slip through and thicken, still grinning awkwardly, "It's in me nature t' keep loot. Thar's more where that came from too, if ye ever needs it." Hearing her speaking in the way that he found really suited her best, Retribution snorted in amusement, "Oh come on, Abrael. You were never the modest type before, so why the sudden change in attitude?" The former pirate shrugged again, her accent vanishing as quickly as it'd first arrived, "I dunno. I wasn't expecting this meeting to go down this particular path, so I think my usual eccentric persona is still in sleep mode right now."

Retribution shook his head and sighed, attempting to hide the smallest of smiles, "You know... You confuse me sometimes. As someone who typically comes across as being greedy, I didn't think you'd be so willing to trade in some of those gems. I figured I'd have to steal them from you or something." Abrael hummed, "Yeah, well... I had a good reason to cooperate this time, I guess." The former prince arched a brow bone curiously, "You mean a reason other than thinking I'd go and beat you senseless for saying no?" Her cheekbones flushed a soft shade of lemon yellow and she lowered her head, "I, uh... There was another reason too, if I'm being honest."

Ret tilted his head and hummed, "And might I ask what that reason is? I can feel your nervousness and uncertainty, so I'm unsure if I should be concerned or not right now." Abrael hesitated, and Ret's stare seemed to gain intensity again as he felt a small pulse of embarrassment come from her, "...Abrael, I have a feeling your answer isn't going to sit well with me. Now that I know you have another reason for cooperating that has nothing to do with being afraid of me, I would like you to tell me what it is. I won't promise not to get upset, but I'll try my best to stay rational and calm." The former pirate snuck a glance at him and hesitated for another moment, "...Your sister. Connie."

Retribution's stare hardened as he heard his sister's name leave Abrael's mouth, "What about Connie?" The ex-pirate nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other, "She's a good teacher, with all this magic stuff. I know I'm not always the easiest person to work with, but despite that, she's been good to me. Not once has she shown me anything that could be interpreted as rude or uncaring." Beginning to understand, Retribution made a soft sound in acknowledgment, "I've noticed. Because of that, your other reason for cooperating involves her somehow. If you want your head to stay attached to your body, I'd suggest you hurry up and spit it out already."

Abrael drew in a breath and ran her hands over her head, "I wanted to help do something nice for her. She's always good to me, she's patient with me when I start my shenanigans, and I... She's... She's quite pretty, too." The former prince continued to stare at her as he spoke, "Your other reason for cooperating was because you think my sister is pretty, and because you wanted to do something nice for her in return for how nice she is to you?" Abrael made a sound in confirmation, her yellow blush becoming just a smidge brighter, and Retribution took a deep breath, "...You've taken an interest in her. I see. I don't care what you do, as far as your relationship with her goes, but let me be perfectly clear," he paused, the atmosphere suddenly becoming tense and nearly suffocating.

The former pirate watched him with wide eyes as his cyan eye lights flickered, very briefly becoming a brilliant shade of violet, "If any harm should come to her, whether it be mental, emotional, or physical, I'll pay you a visit in the dreamscape while you sleep and make you relive your final moments as a vile, audacious, no-good pirate again and again, and again. You'll feel the pain of a broken neck and cracked skull as many times as it takes to teach you how to be a halfway decent person, and you can even quote me on that. I genuinely don't care." Abrael shrunk under his stare again and began to tremble, but before she could speak, another voice interrupted the rather tense moment, "Scarin' the new girl again, are ya?"

Ret's attention immediately refocused on his partner, who was currently loitering in the doorway, and he narrowed his eyes, "What are you doing here, Famine? I thought you were too busy to socialize today." Famine shrugged, leaning against the door frame, "Nah. 'M busy, yeah, but I know how ta make time for my teammates. I'm only here because my gut told me ya were runnin' around gettin' into trouble again." The taller of the two glanced at Abrael, registering the terrified look she wore, "And by the looks a' things, my gut was right." Retribution let out a deep sigh, the atmosphere gradually beginning to return to normal again, "Hey, I didn't physically do anything to her. She's fine, Fam. I'm still in control of myself, ok? I don't want you doubting that."

Famine arched a single brow bone, crossing his arms over his chest, "Ya sure about that, Firefly? You've been pretty tense as a' lately... How about ya go and start runnin' a bath or somethin'? I can join ya in just a minute." Ret's eye lights remained their normal shade of cyan, and at his partner's words, his cheekbones flushed a shade of cyan that matched them. When Retribution didn't move from his spot, Famine hummed again, "Hey, Small, Dark, and Lovecraftian, ya still with me?" Ret made a sound in confirmation and Famine donned a lazy smirk, "Good ta know. Now, about that bath. I want ya soakin' in the tub, five minutes from now. I got a few words for the lady, then I'll come and join ya." Deciding not to reply, Ret nodded, sheepishly glancing away from Famine and using a shortcut, teleporting out of the room.

Once he was gone, Famine's demeanor became more relaxed and he sighed, slipping into Abrael's room. Before she had the chance to panic and run, he placed a hand on her head, stuffing the other in one of his pockets. Soothing pulses of his magic began to ripple through her and she drew in a shaky breath, slowly shifting her gaze upward and looking at him. Seeing that her attention was on him now, he spoke, "...Sorry 'bout him. He's a bit touchy when it comes ta family, and he can be a little over protective of 'em. He won't do anythin' to ya though, promise." The former pirate nodded slowly, "...You're sure?" He lightly squeezed her head, "I'm positive. Don't worry about him, ok? You'll be fine."

#writing #conquest.exe #retribution.exe #morty.exe #mishap.exe #famine.exe #four horsemen of the apocalypse #riders of the apocalypse #undertale #undertale au #i don't think I've posted this yet #^^"

[sgstories123]

The Story of Alex Part 5

“Alex, bring the monthly financial statements to Chairman. Judy usually does this but she called in sick today. You worked with her on this, right? Make sure you are familiar with the numbers because Chairman sometimes like to go through the details.” Michelle advised before passing a thin file containing a few sheets of paper to Alex.

Alex has worked for a couple of weeks in the Business Strategy department. He enjoyed his work in the new department but more importantly, he enjoyed working with his new departmental colleagues. His department had mostly female staff. They were also younger and prettier than most of the female staff in the other departments. It was nice to be surrounded by them.

When Alex entered the Chairman’s office several minutes later, he found the Chairman first looking expectantly but quickly changed to a look of disappointment.

“Are you here with the statements? What happened to Judy?” The Chairman asked.

“Judy called in sick so I am replacing her to submit the report.” Alex replied.

The Chairman smiled. “How can you replace her?” Then he looked at Alex’s downcast face. “Oh. Don’t be mistaken. I don’t mean that you are not capable. I am sure work-wise, you are just as good as Judy.”

Alex looked confused.

The Chairman laughed. “You already know what I am like. As a man, I will be frank with you. Judy gives me a blow job when I go through the statements. If I spot a mistake, I will spank her ass. Now, I am sure you cannot replace Judy and give me a blowjob. Nor do I want to spank your ass.”

Alex smiled. He was relieved that it had nothing to do with his job performance. He was really enjoying his work here and wanted to stay as long as possible. Plus, the pay was good.

“Well, I still need to see the statements.” The Chairman held his hand up for the file. Alex handed it over and for a short instance, he was worried that his ass would be spanked. He shook his head. Nah. The Chairman is as straight as an iron rod.

The Chairman became another person when he was going through the statements. He looked serious and thoughtful. He asked a couple of questions and Alex was relieved that he was able to answer them confidently. Afterall, he had worked hard over the report with Judy.

“Did we get a new printer for the marketing collaterals?” The Chairman asked.

“Yes, The Marketing department changed the printing company last month. It is slightly cheaper and according to the Marketing department, the quality is comparable. As usual, we will be monitoring the new vendor for the next 3 months.”

“Crystal made the decision, right?”

Alex panicked. He did not know who made the decision. He only had the financial statements.

“I will need to check on that. But we were informed of the decision by the Marketing department. Crystal will likely know about the decision.”

The Chairman did not seem happy. He picked up his phone and commanded curtly “Get Crystal into my office now!”

Alex was breaking out in cold sweat. Did he fumble in his first presentation to the Chairman? He tried replaying the scenario in his head. Was there a better answer?

“Go seat at the sofa there while we wait for Crystal.” The Chairman pointed at a sofa at the corner of the office and he resumed typing on his computer.

Alex spent the next few moments in awkward silence, thinking about what he had done wrong. Judy would have simply turned up her ass to be spanked. But he is not Judy and the Chairman is clearly not interested in spanking him. He was more worried that the Chairman will be firing him.

Finally, Crystal walked into the Chairman’s room.

“Did you change the printer?” The Chairman demanded without any pleasantries when he saw Crystal.

“Yes. The new printer is cheaper and the quality is just as good. We have been discussing the contract for a while and finally decided last month.” Crystal replied.

“Did this has anything to do with Alan, the new sales manager?” The Chairman eyed Crystal suspiciously.

Crystal was obviously uncomfortable. She shifted her weight and tried to respond calmly. “Yes, he was very accommodating to our terms. It was a good deal. The company will be able to lower its cost with this new printer.”

“Accommodating. Anything else that he was accommodating to? Don’t lie to my Crystal. You know I hate liars.” There was menace in the Chairman’s voice.

“No. I don’t think so. It was just the terms. Lower prices.” Crystal seemed to have lost her cool.

“You slut! You signed the contract because you wanted him to fuck you!” The Chairman almost shouted.

“No! I am sorry, sir. I love you. You know I love you. But you seemed to be ignoring me and Alan was there. And I needed some attention.” Crystal gushed. “Yes, I slept with him. But it was only once. And I regretted it.”

“You are lying! You loved having a young cock shoved up your cunt. You are a bloody whore.” The Chairman spoke quietly but it was clear that he was angry.

“No! I did not enjoy the sex at all. You are the best. No one comes close. Not Alan. Not anyone in this world.” Crystal was sobbing.

“Then prove it.” The Chairman said softly, after a pause. “Alex here will fuck you. If you even make a moan of pleasure, then you are lying. You are a slut craving for young cock. But if you remain silent, then I will believe you that it was a moment of weakness.”

Crystal looked at Alex, seemingly only to notice him for the first time. Without saying another word, she removed all her clothes and lay down on the large conference table in the room, legs apart, exposing her vagina.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” The Chairman looked at Alex. “Make her moan in pleasure, as loudly as possible. You can do whatever you want with her but I want to hear her moan.”

The Chairman then went back to his work, typing on his computer.

Alex was dumbfounded and continued to sit in his chair.

A few keystrokes later, the Chairman turned and glared at Alex. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Alex woke up from his stupor and quickly undressed himself. What a crazy day!

He walked over to the conference table and stared at the naked Crystal. Even though Crystal was in her thirties, she still had a good figure. She had large breasts and a small waistline.

Alex climbed onto the conference table and stroked her thighs. Her skin was smooth and without any blemish. He drew his fingers across her stomach, reaching her pubic hair. She must have trimmed it. He pushed his fingers into her slit but it was too dry for him to make any headway. He lowered his head and started licking her cunt, parting her inner folds with his fingers. Finding her clitoris, he pushed and licked it with his tongue. At the same time, his hands moved up to her breasts, massaging them. His fingers found her nipples and alternated between squeezing them lightly and running circles around them.

Crystal bit her lips. She knew that she needed to remain silent to gain the Chairman’s trust again. But Alex was doing such a good job eating her out. In a different situation, she would be screaming in lust, but now, she must control herself.

Alex, on the other hand, was getting frustrated. There did not seem to be any reaction from Crystal at all. She was getting wet and he could push his fingers all the way into her love canal, but there was no sound nor movement from Crystal. Now he understands why his friends had said that fucking a woman who is not interested in sex is like fucking a dead fish. It is all slimy and wet, but there is no reaction at all.

Alex decided to change his tactics. He continued to finger her but moved upwards to suck on her breasts, licking her nipples and tugging them gently with his teeth. He caressed her nape and licked her ears, hoping that those were her erotic zones. But he will never know because Crystal continued to close her eyes and kept quiet.

“A word of advice, young man. She is a slut. These foreplay are wasted on her. Just fuck her. The rougher you are, the more she likes it.” The Chairman seemed to have shifted his attention from his work to the live show in front of him. Did something similar happened in the past? If not, why did Crystal behaved as if she knew what was expected of her? She had removed her clothes and climbed onto the conference table without any instruction from the Chairman. Alex could not help wondering.

But Alex did not dare to wonder too long. He positioned his already hard cock at the entrance of Crystal’s cunt. He looked at Crystal for a final time to check if she was okay for him to put his cock in but her eyes were still closed. He looked at the Chairman but he seemed to be impatient and about to admonish him again. He did not dare to linger any further and pushed his cock into Crystal’s already wet cunt. He was not expecting Crystal to be tight like a young girl but it was still difficult to push his whole length in. He lifted her legs onto his shoulders and pulled her ass up so that it rests partly on his thighs. This gave him a better angle and allowed him to push deeper into her. When he was finally all the way in, he saw Crystal’s mouth opened momentarily. She seemed to be gasping but it was too inaudible.

Alex was encouraged. Crystal can be broken. He smiled to himself. He pushed her legs and ass up higher, freeing his legs. Using his cock like a piston, he started hammering her cunt relentlessly. Crystal’s body was almost curled up like a ball as her knees reached her head. Alex was not only fucking her deeply but also quickly. With each stroke, Alex pulled his cock almost out of her cunt, only to dive deep again as far as the length of his cock allowed. Several times, his cock popped out of the cunt entirely but this is almost immediately rectified with his cock shoved back deep.

Alex was now grunting with his efforts and beads of perspiration were falling down onto Crystal’s body. But besides that, there was hardly any other noise in the room. The conference table was made of solid oak and despite the fervent activity on it, there was no creaking noises from it like some old bed. When Alex glanced at the Chairman, his mood seemed to have lifted. He was nodding in an approving way and smiled at Alex.

Well, my job seems safe now, Alex thought. He looked at Crystal and could see that she was trying hard not to moan. Her face was clenched up and she was biting her lips so hard that he could see blood. Her eyes were shut so tight that lines were starting to form at the edges. Sorry Crystal, but it is either your job or my job. I will need to fuck you even harder just to make you moan.

Alex increased his pace. At the same time, he started attacking Crystal’s breast and nipples with both his mouth and hands. It was getting more frenzied and he was biting her nipples harder. Crystal could not control much longer. She was starting to whimper, hoping that it was not loud enough for the Chairman to hear.

At that moment, the phone rang. Alex stopped his pounding and looked at the Chairman. Crystal heaved a sigh of relief and tried to calm herself down.

“What? Why the sudden change in plans?” The Chairman sounded upset. “Okay. Tell Lawrence to join me at the meeting. Meet me at the lobby in 15 minutes with the documents.”

The Chairman put down the phone and looked lost in thought for a moment. Then he smiled and walked over to Alex and Crystal. Alex was still in the same position as when the phone rang, hard cock postponed just outside Crystal’s cunt.

“Alright Crystal, a deal is a deal. You did not moan when Alex was fucking you so I will forgive you. But you know, you are also lucky that I had to attend an urgent meeting. Looking at you, I don’t think you can last for another 5 minutes. You will most probably be screaming with lust.”

Turning to Alex, the Chairman continued. “Good job, young man. I am starting to like you even more. You did not make her moan in pleasure but you fuck her real good. I want you to join me this weekend at a gathering. Talk to Lawrence, the Director of the Legal Department and he will give you more details. I need to go off now.”

The Chairman then walked over to his desk, put on his coat and pulled a file from his cabinet. He walked to the door and before he left the room, he turned around and smiled.“Alex, you can continue enjoying yourself with Crystal. Get her to go on her knees to give you a blowjob. That’s her best trick. And you should fuck her from the back, against the wall. That will definitely make her moan.”

The door closed softly after the Chairman.

Crystal opened her eyes and looked at Alex. “Now fuck me properly and make me cum.”

#Story of Alex

[greasygyeom]

Title: Blame it on Me [Part II: Where Do We Go From Here?]

By: GreasyGyeom

Summary: what is someone supposed to do when they have to choose between the love of their life and the career of their dreams.

Word Count: 9.2k

Yugyeom x Reader / Angst, smut (kinda)..more angst. (i use noona but just pretend it’s y/n)

Warnings: Mature content please read only if 18+

Author’s Note: i am back after two weeks this is a character development guys. hope you like part II !! if you do leave an ask or write in your tags. i love hearing from you guys! tell me if it made you feel something. if there’s spelling errors, let me know hahaha. love you guys and thank you for reading.

Read Part I here

Your night burnt by slowly, filled with explanations and fake acceptances of congratulations that everyone showered you with; that you had no interest in. The only reason you stayed awake was because you were hoping Yugyeom would actually come back. Little did you know he’d been so drunk BamBam had to let him pass out on the couch and keep a bucket right next to him; because if drinking had taught him anything, the amount Yugyeom had, he was bound to throw up. 

You, poetically so, had also passed out on the couch. It was hard to believe that in the afternoon you were in a relationship, getting fucked out of your mind and by night you were single, bawling in your living room.

Still, he had to come back at some point, it was his house after all. How was he going to go to work without his clothes? BamBam for sure wasn’t going to let him stretch out his T-shirts.

Hanging onto that hope, you prepared breakfast in the morning, which unfortunately sat out cold until noon, while you face timed your best friend and let out all your pent up emotions.

She advised you to not hang onto the hope of him wanting to be with you for a few days extra. It wasn’t fair to him, because everything said and done, you were leaving. If there was a way around it, you would have done everything within your control to get that promotion without the transfer. Unfortunately the path you were going to take had been set in stone by your company. There was no space for any alterations left.

You didn’t want this to happen but really, what else were you expecting. This was never going to have a happy ending from the start.

Last week you’d wanted him to act like a douchebag so you could be bitter and cop out of being hurt over having to break up with the best guy you’d ever known. 

You finally understood why ‘be careful what you wish for’ was such a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

After your long distance chat, begrudgingly you got dressed for the office; even though you didn’t have to really go officially—you were off until you started at London next Friday—there was some paperwork that needed your signature. You wanted to get it over with so as to spend the next few days peacefully crying in bed.

Half-heartedly walking to the train station, you wondered if you’d even crossed Yugyeom’s mind since yesterday.

Maybe it was a bit selfish, but you wanted to know if he was thinking about you; or was it just you that was miserable.

He was.

Of course he was.

While he chugged a bottle of water, because his mouth felt like sandpaper, all he could worry about was how you were going to pack all your belongings in such a short amount of time, without forgetting the most important stuff; and how he was going to not lose his sanity over it. 

Ominously so, life had come such a full circle for him; because had your colleague not been a student at the academy, he would have never met you.

The work-life that brought you to him, ultimately took you away too. 

Funny how the universe works, right?

He’d drank so much alcohol the previous night in hopes of forgetting you that even an hour without your face swimming in his head would have been worth it. Yet, all night all he lamented about was how unfair it was that he was going to have to let you go.

His friend circle–that over time had also become your friend circle–had been made aware of the whole ordeal, so they knew what to expect. They were just surprised by the magnanimity of it. 

Yugyeom had never been heartbroken—at least to this extent. In the 10+ years of knowing him, he’d never expressed so many emotions in such little time to any of his friends. It was like witnessing a compressed pack of cocaine burst under high pressure; messy and not a good look for anyone.

When he woke up he already had a text from Jaebeom very sternly asking him to not come in to work until he got his shit together, several texts from Mark asking how he was feeling and to start hydrating his body immediately, and a whole essay from Jackson on how he should drop his tough guy act and be with you till it was time to go. 

He hated being called out like that.

Yugyeom: Hyung you’re supposed to be my friend and tell me I should forget her immediately. His text elicited an immediate response. 

Jackson: Listen you brat. I’m your friend that’s why I’m asking you to spend the last few days she is here with her. Because I know you and you’re going to regret this later.

Yugyeom: Tell me, how does it matter if she’s out of my life today or after five days?

Jackson: You won’t even try to stay in touch?

Yugyeom: No.

Jackson: Is that a mutual decision?

Yugyeom stopped replying after that, because now that he was sober, he was back to not being able to aptly express his feelings and he actually didn’t know the answer to that question. 

He’d thought about this so much yesterday, while in bed next to you. There was no expiration date on your time in London, there wasn’t even any guarantee that after London you’d come back—you could get transferred to anywhere in the world. That particular uncertainty had torn his heart into smithereens and had led him to end the relationship so abruptly. 

It had seemed logical yesterday.

Today? not so much.

You’d zoned out staring at a travel bag while window shopping. After your work was done you thought of giving retail therapy a shot, an endeavour that was proving to be extremely unsuccessful, for the lack of focus you were carrying with you.

A loud, screeching, honking bus on the road snapped you back to reality, but not really. You were still dazed and confused and within seconds wanted to go back home, wondering why you thought this was a good idea in the first place. 

You did buy three pastries and a venti on your way though, to devour your feelings once home. To discover that you’d forgotten how you lived life before Yugyeom and not understand how to combat it, was definitely taking a toll on you. The concept of being without him seemed so outlandish, it felt like a distant dream you might have had in your childhood. For now, until you found a way out of this maze, unhealthy coping mechanisms would have to do.

Truth be told, you were itching to call him. When it came to him, your ego was barely existent.

You were still plenty mad and wanted him to realise how stupid he was for not taking you up on the offer last night, of course, but you also wanted hear his voice equally badly, at the cost of him being unwilling to entertain you.

You had been postponing your urge every hour, since morning, because this time around you were reluctant to lose this battle; even though you’d already lost the war.

At 9am it was ‘Wait for another hour, maybe he’ll turn up.’ At 10am it became ‘Maybe I’ll stop by the studio’– but that was too much effort (and you were in no mood to face Jaebeom). When you were leaving for work, you baited yourself by saying you’ll call him after you were done at the office and currently you were convincing yourself to wait till you reached back home, so that at least when he ignored your calls, you could cry into a cup of tiramisu and feel better about it.

That thought was more comforting than it needed to be.

This awkwardness of not being able to wiggle your way into his life this time, was eating you inside, honestly. It’s not that you’d never had disagreements and fights before, where he’d left for Bam’s because he was too frustrated to even talk to you—in spite of him indulging his anger to a bare minimum, there had been plenty of those. But this was the only one time where saying sorry and promising to buy him chocoshakes for a week wasn’t going to cut it.

Along your route home, you bought more food—a full loaf of strawberry bread from the train station, some chips and a sandwich at the convenience store, a slice from the pizzeria nearby and finally your favourite fried chicken. Clearly, you had a lot of feelings to chew through and some days of solitude to chew them.

You hadn’t anticipated the struggle to get your apartment door to open, with all those packets hanging on your arms, trying not to spill any of the contents. What you also didn't anticipate was Yugyeom opening the door from inside, asking you to hand over some of the things you were holding.

You felt your system shut down like windows 98 being attacked by a trojan.

Was this real? Was this a delusion and you'd really just dropped everything on the floor? 

“Yu….gyeom?” You called out, afraid of not actually hearing an answer.

“Why are you still standing outside, noona?”

“Oh-uhm-I….” you fumbled, before closing the door. “This.. is-uh?? Hmm-what-what are you… doing here?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” He replied curtly.

You furrowed your brows accompanying it with frown lines on your forehead, indicative of the confusion you were unable to convey verbally. 

However, you chose not to question him further, not wanting to go wherever that interrogation would have taken you. You were more than content to see him move around at close proximity, even if it was in silence. 

There were plenty of places he could have gone, really, he didn’t have to be there if he didn’t want to; but he did want to. Oh god he’d wanted to see you so badly. More so than the hangover, it was a bizarre feeling in his chest, from the way he’d behaved with you last night, that had caused him discomfort all morning. That and Jackson’s messages. 

Was he really not even going to try to keep in touch? But then….. who likes to stay in touch with an ex? 

“Want some cake?” you asked, in an effort to dissipate the elephant in the room. “Or some other food? Pizza? You look like shit, you should probably eat something greasy.”

“You went and bought the whole shop didn’t you?” he raised his eyebrow. 

“I… did not. I was….. craving a lot of things.”

“You know, the only times you’ve bought so much food is when you’re sad about us fighting over something.”

“Well—I am sad,” you paused, “and we are fighting ... and this one seems to be the last one.”

“For now” he added and then immediately retracted his statement 

“I’m...I don’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yugyeom... baby,”

When did you even get close enough to do that, he wondered, as you cupped his face.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, you know?”

He put his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tender hug, because if he looked into your eyes any deeper he would have either kissed you or teared up; and neither was a good option to choose from.

“Noona will you promise me something?” he then asked, his words heavy and morose.

“Hmm?”

“Please try your best to forget me.”

You weren’t expecting that sentence to knock the wind out of your lungs, because you weren’t expecting to hear that sentence at all.

You broke away from him, tears accumulating against your will. 

“Did you come here to hurt me, Yugyeom?”

It felt like a sword was now ominously hung above your head, when you looked at him; and it could fall at any moment and sever your head.

“Don’t take this the wrong way. I just…. I don’t know. Don’t hold onto some irrational hope or something. That’s all I meant.”

“Irrational hope? Really, of what? Getting back together someday? You wanna get rid of me and move on so fast that you want me to forget you? Is that it?”

“Don’t twist my words. That’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“You think I don’t understand that this is the end for us?”

“Just ... leave it, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah you shouldn’t have.”

“But I don’t want to be the reason you hold yourself back in London. That’s all.” He yielded, not wanting to make matters any worse.

“You know what…. I was wrong to think it would be a good idea to pretend like nothing’s changed until I get on the plane. You win.” 

The anger in your tone and your deadpan face made it very clear that you were not interested in holding a conversation about this, any further. “I’m gonna go start collecting my stuff. I should be out of your apartment and your life, by tomorrow evening.”

Before Yugyeom could react, you slammed the bedroom door shut and locked yourself inside.

One second later he was banging on the door frantically.

“Noona! Come on, open the door please.

Please, baby!”

He must have stood there trying to rotate the knob, begging you to let him inside, for at least fifteen minutes before giving up and sliding onto the floor.

This was turning out to be worse than his worst nightmare.

If he knew you at all, he knew you would want to come out to smoke soon. So he sat by the door, getting annoyed at himself for saying that and at you for taking it out of context.

Before coming here, he’d asked for Jinyoung’s opinion on whether this was a good idea or not; and Jinyoung had replied asking him to not do anything foolish. He had assumed Jinyoung meant going to his house to meet you was the foolish act. Dejectedly, he typed a text.

Yugyeom: Well…. I should have listened to you. I went to see her and you were right, it was a bad idea.

Jinyoung: when did I say that was a bad idea?

Yugyeom: you said not to do anything stupid

Jinyoung: yeah, I meant don’t go there and mess it up. I didn’t mean don’t go there at all. What did you do?

Yugyeom: oh…. nothing. 

Jinyoung: I can call her and ask.

Yugyeom: No! Fuck. please don’t do that. She’s already pissed at me.

Jinyoung: what did you do

Yugyeom: I asked her to move on

Jinyoung: huh?

Yugyeom: I don’t want her to get hung up on me and us and the maybes and what ifs when she's there. Because I know she will.

Jinyoung: and what about you? Are you going to try your best to forget her?

Yugyeom paused and stared at that question for a few minutes. No…. of course not, how could he want to forget you or anything about you. Even if every memory attached to you dug into his organs like shards of glass, he’d gladly take them all to his grave. 

Yugyeom: she doesn’t need to know if I do it or not.

Jinyoung: I’m glad God gave you the gift of dance because clearly intelligence and common sense are completely lost on you. 

Yugyeom: hyung i'm really not in the mood to be insulted right now.

Jinyoung: Jackson asked you to drop your tough guy act didn’t he? She doesn’t need you to protect her. She’s never needed anyone to protect her from anything. You should stop trying to save her from whatever it is that you think you’re saving her from.

Yugyeom: I’m not trying to do anything. I don’t want her to regret going to London.

Jinyoung: How is asking to forget you a solution to that? Say hypothetically she does forget you. In a years time she doesn’t give a fuck about what you meant to her. She meets someone else and starts dating, maybe even gets engaged. Would that make you happy?

Yugyeom: No. But she’ll be happy. 

Jinyoung: that’s your problem. You’re assuming that forgetting you and finding a new life would make her happy. 

Yugyeom: Well won’t it? Idk I just don’t want her to be hung up on us and if she gets stuck on it, I don’t think she will be. 

Jinyoung: You just said you don’t wanna move on so then why the fuck are you forcing it on her?

Yugyeom: hyung she doesn’t need to know how miserable I am. Without knowing that whenever she sees me she apologises to me. if she gets to know how much I want her to stay I’m scared she’ll turn down the promotion. She’s already thought about not going.

Jinyoung: let her make her own decisions? Right now you’re lying to her. I’m 95% sure she’s pissed because you’re trying to act unfazed by all of this.

Jinyoung: Just this one time, try to not bottle up how you’re feeling.

Jinyoung: tell her you have no interest in moving on. Be honest, man.

Jinyoung: and just saying, asking the ‘love of your life’, who calls you ‘the love of her life’, to forget you after 12 hours of breaking up is a shitty thing to do. She should have kicked you in the balls. 

He typed up a stingy reply to that but, before he could send it, the sound of you unbolting the door from inside distracted him. Hurriedly, he stood up, to catch hold of you. 

“Yugyeom, leave me alone. You got what you wanted?”, you spoke frostily.

“Are you going to smoke?”

“Are you going to stop me?”

“No.. But I wish you’d hear me out. Let me say my piece and if you’re still pissed, I’ll leave. I promise.”

After opening the window sill and lighting your cigarette, you waited for him to start. Your face was red and hurting from crying so incessantly, but you were determined to not let your emotions get the best of you, in front of him. At least, not right now. 

“When I asked you to forget me, I didn’t mean… you know, erase me from your memory or whatever. I meant give yourself a proper chance at happiness, when you’re there.”

You gave him no expressions.

“Like… I’m not dying to move on. This is killing me. I don't want us to come to an end. I even thought of giving long distance another shot… or like you know….maybe just keep in touch. But every time I thought about it, it was too painful. So I couldn’t ask you to do that because I…. didn’t wanna do that.” 

Saying that out loud made him realise how selfish he sounded. He continued his monologue when you wordlessly stood still and puffed away.

“I wanted to pretend like this isn’t hurting me, but I’m so miserable, noona. I don’t know how to live without you. I don’t even want to know how to live without you. But, I want you to live your life without me; which is hypocritical, I guess, but that’s why I asked you to forget me.”

“That’s really fucking unfair.” you interrupted. “You’re planning things for me without asking what I want. That’s not how it works. If I want to move on or not, is my decision. If I want to be miserable over you or not, is my decision. If I want to live my best life in London or not, again, is my decision. I have never loved anyone like I’ve loved you, Yugyeom; so what you asked of me was just cruel. I know I want to live in a fantasy until I have no option but to accept the outcome. I know it’s not a good way to deal with things. How could you even think  that forgetting you would ever be an option?

“I’m sorry” he pursed his lips and looked at the floor.

“When I said we have five more days, I wanted to play pretend. I was just trying to live in this denial bit longer. 

“Then… can I live in that denial with you?”

“No, I’m sorry, I gotta pack and hand over the house to the owner by tomorrow.”

“I’m sure the owner will understand if you’re delayed by a day or two or four.”

“I’m tired of running around in circles with you man”, you sighed. “No matter how this turns out, I will never not love you. Maybe in ten years time you’ll be with some other girl and I’ll be with some other dude, even then I will probably, in some capacity, still love you. And I get it if you don’t want to feel the same way, you don’t have to. But don’t ask me not to.”

“Thinking about you with someone else really fucking hurts.” he admitted, feeling a knot tighten in his throat.

“It hurts me too but you’re the one so fucking adamant about moving on like it’s gonna happen in 2 days.”

“Are you still angry?”

“Yeah, of course... but I can let it slide if you promise to forget about me.” 

“Haha very funny.”

You chuckled and he wasted no time in giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“The only thing I can promise you is that I’ll love you till I die.”

“No one is dying, baby.”

“Without you, I just might.”

“Jaebeom won’t let that happen, you’re the second reason his studio has clients.”

“What’s the first?”

“Jaebeom, obviously.”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes at you. “He’s going to have to be the only reason, till next week because I’m stuck to you till you get on that plane.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m not letting you leave that room for the next 100 hours, starting now.”

He didn’t give you much time to process his words, as he picked you up to take you into the bedroom. You tried to fake-protest to the best of your capabilities, but truth be told there was no better feeling than hiding your face in the crook of his neck; while he effortlessly carried you in.

Making his intentions for the night perfectly clear, he took off his shirt.

“Wait-wait-wait!” you yelped, pinned under his lithe form. “All the food is on the table, I'll be damned if that Tiramisu goes to waste. I’ll be back in five.”

“Make it three.”

“Okay baby.”

Then you kissed him on the nose and ran out.

Since your last reconciliation, you'd spent most of your time in bed, mostly without clothes, wrapped in Yugyeom’s arms; savouring every kiss, every touch, trying to save these ending moments in your memory, so you could replay them over and over again at the end of this week when all this would inevitably be over. Your departure was three days away and the fact that you were still unpacked was beginning to weigh down on you heavily. You were at a point where you couldn’t really avoid it any more; even though it was antithetical to the denial you’d built your cozy house in.

As much anxiety you had regarding leaving and not wanting to deal with that, there was an equal amount of anxiety related to not being prepared ahead of time. It was a lose-lose situation either way, with consequences that weren’t susceptible to change. So, you decided to rip the bandaid completely, to avoid running around like a headless chicken at the last minute.

You didn’t have to deal with the furniture, at least, because even though some of it was bought together, Yugyeom owned the apartment. You just had to sort through your clothes and products.

He wasn't the most excited at the thought of seeing you empty out the house. 

“Do you know your living situation in London?” he asked, trying to hold up a conversation.

“Yeah…they’re giving me a furnished apartment as part of the deal.”

“Wait no rent?”

“Uh-huh”

“Woah that’s amazing.” The lack of excitement completely contradicted his statement. “And who’s gonna help you set up and stuff? Won’t you need help?”

“Uhm... mum’s already gonna be there when I land. Not at the apartment, obviously, but…. in London.”

“Aah. Ok ok. It’ll be good, you haven’t seen your parents in a long time”

“Hmm I guess.”

“And your visas and shit?”

“Yeah my passport’s with the company, they’ll sort it all out and hand it to me on the day of the flight.”A

Yugyeom felt like he’d accidentally stepped on an emotional land mine. 

He was already gutted about seeing his closet empty, and now hearing your monotone voice just upset him even further. But he didn’t want to show how sad this was making him either, because then you would probably cry.

It was really frustrating.

He quickly made up an excuse to leave for a bit. “Is it okay if I go to the studio, Jaebeom hyung needs me to sort through some assessments. But if you need me to stay, I’ll tell him something.”

”No, it’s okay. I have to face time Ishi anyway. I haven't spoken to her in a hot minute. And Jae has been more than patient this past week. I’ll try to be done soon too. It’ll probably take me 4-5 hours.”

Oh.

 “I’ll definitely be back by then.”

“Or… maybe I can meet you at the station and we can go to Naksan?”

He gave you an affirmative forced grin, kissed you on the forehead and headed to the studio to redirect all the aggression he was so suddenly full of.

Just knowing that you’d be leaving a giant gaping hole in his life, was driving him nuts. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up his end of the bargain any longer. You at least would get to start over a new life, in a new place with new faces. But he was going to have to pick up pieces of his life that he knew you were about to leave behind shattered; and never look back at 

Your fragrance lingered in every corner of his apartment. His bathroom smelt like your shampoo, his closet smelt like your body spray and cigarettes, his bed.… how was he ever going to exorcise your memories out of his bed? His king size bed that had not seen a dip on the right side up until you had waltzed into his life. Everything was going to remind him of you. His favourite restaurants, clubs, hideaways—it was overwhelming him. 

“Aah fuck” he mumbled to himself, absent-mindedly walking into the studio - much to Jaebeom’s surprise.

“I thought you weren’t coming in?”

“She’s packing. I’ll break something if I have to sit through it.”

“Don’t break anything here.”

“Maybe my bones.”

“The third room is empty.”

He was barely going to be able to concentrate on whatever choreography he was going to try, but he acknowledged Jaebeom and locked himself inside.

Jaebeom also felt rather incompetent to handle the situation, since he’d never seen this volatile and mostly upset side of Yugyeom. So he just let the kid do whatever he wanted to. No one knows what to do until you actually start doing it, right? Jinyoung would probably disapprove of this philosophy, but he wasn’t there to voice his objections, so too bad!

When dancing, Yugyeom barely ever understood the concept of time, so between choosing a song, researching some new styles, to mentally animating the possible formations, 4 hours flew by. He yelped and hurriedly ran to his phone, hoping he wasn’t already late.

You sighed heavily at the other end of the call “no... I’m still working through the pile. It’s probably going to take me two hours more.”

“It’ll be too dark to go to Naksan then.”

“Yeah…. I guess. Just come home?”

“It’ll take me some more time at the studio though.”

“That’s okay, take your time. It’s a mess here anyway.”

“Hmm… I’ll see you later then, noona.”

And he went back to focusing on perfecting the new moves, even harder than before, because otherwise your voice would keep ringing in his ears. He could hear how disheartened you already sounded and he wanted to be there for you, but he had to take care of his own feelings first, before he could take care of yours.

He didn’t know he could feel such a foul mood, but that’s what his days had recently been made of. All he’d done was get blackout drunk, fight and then fuck; this wasn’t a routine he recognised at all.

It was almost nine in the night when he entered the house, fully expecting to see you still having a rough time with a mountain of clothes next to you. Surprisingly, he found you passed out next to an empty cup of coffee.

He peeked inside the bedroom and his eyes immediately went to the two giant suitcases stacked in the corner and a cardboard box balanced on top of them.

His closet now housed his bare minimum collection of T-shirts and sweatpants and the bathroom was entirely stripped of its former glory. It was depressing. He took a quick shower and considered slumping onto the bed, knowing full well he should wake you up and make you eat something.

Who was going to feed you actual healthy food in London, with him not around? Because if you had it your way, you’d call a bag of chips dinner and call it a day.

He tried with everything he had, to not care about it and went back into the bedroom, fully determined to go to sleep. Perhaps it was his frustration towards the situation that was garnering such a petty reaction. But then he thought about it for five minutes more and felt like an absolute asshole. Why was he taking this out on you? It’s not like you deliberately caused it. It’s not even like he wanted you to stay for him.

He shook his head almost aggressively, as if trying to physically shake off the bad thoughts and went back out, to do what he actually should have done as soon as he came home.

You’d fallen asleep in the most haphazard position; your head resting on your arms on the kitchen island top, and your body stretched out on the chair. It didn’t look comfortable whatsoever.

He nudged you gently, “noona?”

You barely even stirred.

“Wake up, baby”. The butterflies he gave you, at such close proximity, made you open your eyes. 

“What time is it?” you groaned, lifting your head the slightest bit.

“It’s almost 10.”

You did a little cat stretch. “Did you just get back?”

“No... it’s been a bit, I took a shower and everything”.

“Oh… okay. I was planning on taking a bath too” you trailed off, yawning through the rest of the sentence.

“I’ll make something for us till then.”he replied, thinking about what they could eat, but his chain of thought was disturbed by a phone call.

“Oh hyung, yo.” you heard him say. His energy seemed so low.

“Wait right now? I don’t know hyung.”

Inquisitively you tilted your head and he handed you the phone. The quota of patience he had for the day was very low. 

You could see Jackson’s name on the screen and you greeted him accordingly.

“You wanna chill here?” You repeated, simultaneously gesturing to Yugyeom about his thoughts on the matter at hand. 

He shrugged indecisively and you came to the realisation that you hadn’t actually thought of when you’d say your final goodbyes to Jackson, or in fact anyone else except for Yugyeom; so now seemed like as good a time as any.

“Yeah cool, how long will you take?”

With his patience running on thin ice, the man standing in front of you frowned, but you pretended to not notice it. Instead, you stretched and headed for the shower, avoiding his gaze. Yugyeom’s energy was all over the place and you were lowkey glad you wouldn’t have to deal with it by yourself.

You thought about planning your day tomorrow and meeting at least some of the people you cared about. What you hadn’t expected was Jackson bringing most of those people to you.

Half an hour after the phone call, your living room was at full capacity. It wasn’t even that many people honestly, just your usual hang-out group - a mixture of your and Yugyeom’s combined friend list, but your living room looked full. 

Yugyeom was even more displeased than before, but managed to hide it by holding onto a bottle of beer, like it was crucial to his existence.

“He didn’t say he was coming with…. everyone.” You sheepishly expressed. 

“It’s fine. At least you get to meet most of your friends.”

“Yeah I guess, i was just thinking about it.”

You get distracted by a hand on your shoulder, “thinking about what?” Bambam asked

“Meeting some people before leaving.” You repeated.

“Ooh depressing.” 

“That’s one way to look at it.” You gave him a deadpan stare, unimpressed by his poor timing.

Yugyeom took the opportunity to wander off to his other friends, most of whom were gathered around the table of food, in front of the TV.

Some random nonsense movie was playing that Mark and his girlfriend were really invested in. He considered sitting next to them but he was not sure when they’d start making out, so he parked himself next to Jaebeom instead. His head was heavier in that moment than it had been in the morning, when he’d left. He couldn’t leave right now though, Jackson would beat his ass.

So he settled for eating silently and drinking slowly, in his little corner.

Meanwhile, you were trying to keep up a brave face. Jackson had already repeated himself at least thrice, saying how much he was going to miss you and it was getting more and more difficult to hold your tears. 

Taking a large gulp of the wine you had in your hand, you told him you were going to miss him a lot too and gave him a partial hug.

There was no scope of hiding from the reality of the situation anymore.

Two days later no one in this room was going to physically be a part of your life. Just two days. All you wanted to do was find Yugyeom and bury your head in his chest, like the ostrich that you were.

You took in some really deep breaths and poured yourself more booze, in the hopes of turning it around and becoming chipper.

Inevitability should be accepted or else life begins to feel like a drag…. no?

Alcohol made it a lot easier for you to bury the sadness that came with your unofficial ‘bon voyage’ celebration. A part of you was also suddenly scared to approach Yugyeom. You studied his face carefully, discreetly, while seated on the couch. Get togethers usually made him hyper, yet here he was looking into his phone like he was studying for a phd degree.

Even though there was an overwhelming urge to go and talk to him, you decided against it. If he wasn’t feeling some type of way, he would not have isolated himself like that and you knew you were partially to blame for it 

You indulged in more cocktails, talked to your friends and somewhere in the middle of all this chatter, Jackson, for the nth time commenced a relay of toasts addressed to you. Really on brand of him to talk about his feelings like that but because you were caught so off-guard you started crying.You weren’t prepared for this kind of emotional haranguing.

Yugyeom hated every minute of it. He didn’t want to hear over and over again that you were leaving, or see you cry. He should have declined Jackson’s proposition when he had the chance to, but now he had to deal with long speeches almost all of which included him too. He felt his lungs constrict like he was about to drown. Jaebeom gave him a comforting pat on the back and passed him a new bottle of soju. 

From time to time he looked at you but avoided eye contact. He knew he should have been next to you, hugging and comforting you, he just couldn’t bring himself upto the task. It was that same resentment he had felt earlier today that made him respond in this fashion. All he wanted was this night to end and for everyone to leave. But then again, maybe this was better because he didn’t have to be alone with you. 

You cried for a good hour while everyone told you they were going to miss you. There were long hugs and accelerating levels of inebriation involved. You promised to text everyone back because at that moment you had no proper words to say and you wanted to tell them all so much. 

By the time you crossed your threshold of tipsy to near blackout drunk, it was almost daybreak. The sun was just beginning to peek at you from behind the mountains. 

Yugyeom was in a worse shape than you, so Jackson and Jinyoung decided to clean up a bit, as your parting gift; trying to rope in Bambam in.

“No way. I know what’s coming after she leaves. I deserve a break before donning my emotional clean up crew role.”

“Don’t lie, you’re both just going to drink.” 

“Yes and drown him in his sorrows. This is how you clean out emotions. He’s gonna drink and cry.”

“That’s the worst way to deal with anything.” Jackson rolled his eyes

“Hyung…. you work out and write music, he drinks and dances. It’s not really all that different.”

“It’s not the same either though. If I feel something I don’t carry it with me. All he does is let it eat him until he forgets it or explodes.”

Can you debate about this later and help me carry him to the bedroom?” Jaebeom interrupted. 

Jackson handed the empty bottles to Jinyoung and got to the task of shifting Yugyeom’s large body from the couch.

“Just him?” Bambam asked

“I already tucked her in,” Jaebeom replied. “We should get out of here soon.”

“Yeah, I still have to go to work. Can’t believe Youngjae and Mark left me alone.” Jinyoung complained, trying to make as little noise as possible while trashing the garbage.

With a lot of difficulty, Jackson was able to plonk Yugyeom on the bed. Jaebeom studied you both before heaving a sigh. The peaceful look on your faces was not an accurate testament to your respective behaviours prior to passing out. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He kept a trash bag and a bottle of water each near your nightstands before leaving. 

At least he could hope that when you wake up, you’d feel better.

... You didn’t.

The splitting headache you were experiencing was really on another level when combined with your sandpaper mouth. Thankfully things were conveniently placed around you because if you had to walk to the kitchen to drink water right now you'd rather die of thirst than get up. Your attention turned to the man next to you, his porcelain skin tempting you to kiss him or at least stroke his face, but you resisted. 

You finished the whole bottle and gently lowered yourself back into the bed, lying awake with throbbing pains radiating from various places. 

Yugyeom made a cute sound in his sleep, making your heart jump. It was nearly impossible to not want to scoot closer to him. He hadn’t given you a hug in all of twenty four hours and you were already about to lose your mind.

How you were going to survive without him was really beyond your comprehension.

You just lightly touched your fingers to his palm and closed your eyes, hoping you’d fall back to sleep. The next thing you knew he had one arm around you and was pulling you into his chest; aligning his body with yours. His soft breaths landing on the back of your neck, making you shiver.

“Feeling okay?” He asked in his hoarse, morning voice. 

“Hmm…”

You could feel his lips moving against your skin as he spoke, making you melt in his embrace. Your heartbeat accelerated and he held onto you even tighter. 

Melancholy hung in the air, much like Christmas decorations in December; he could feel it. Your legs intertwined and he heard a faint sob.

There was nothing he could say that would change the atmosphere. It was time to burst the bubble, so he let you cry, and he cried too.

Head buried in your back, he whispered, “noona…. please will you leave a hoodie of yours with me?”

You nodded and kissed his hand. 

“I love you.” He said and the both of you went back to sleep. 

It was almost evening when he finally woke up. You weren’t in bed anymore, his head was hammering to a tune of it’s own, in spite of having medicated in the morning, and his body was craving water. Staggering, he made his way to the kitchen and found you in a semi-messy situation with cooking paraphernalia all over the counter.

“Oh? What is happening here”. It sounded like he was concerned but he was really only a bit confused. 

“making some sandwiches.”

“Suddenly? Why? We could have just ordered.”

“Yeaaah I don’t know, just felt like it.”

He smiled, because you looked so cute in that apron. His mood was foul but looking at you made it better. He chugged some water while you emptied the pan and he was overcome with the urge to hug you.

You were caught off-guard when he put his arms around you, but you reciprocated his gesture. It was difficult for you to look him in the eyes because you weren’t sure if, for the hundredth time, you'd end up crying. He cupped your face and nudged you to see him, the sincerity in his face…. all the love he wanted to shower you with right then.

He kissed you slowly, taking his time to taste the light traces of your strawberry lip balm. You didn'’t know what spells he used to get you turned on so fast. Threading your fingers with his hair, you deepen the kiss. The urgency that took over him was maddening. He wanted you right now, which he made abundantly clear when he slipped his left hand under your T-shirt and began caressing your boobs; his other hand gripping your hair and pulling it sharply. 

There was air caught up in your lungs as he kissed your neck, like you’d temporarily forgotten how to breathe. Low moans began to escape your lips and you squeezed your thighs together. You were so wet, just with his mildly aggressive kisses.

He knew what he was doing to you when he felt your lower body clench and both his hands slid back down to grab your butt.

The kiss got sloppier as your focus dwindled to his boner, your fingers already caressing it over his sweatpants. He bit your lip in response, pushed you against the kitchen island and aimed to remove your clothes. You were still in your flannel and shorts from the night before, so he fumbled a bit on the buttons. His accuracy was failing him because you weren't stroking him over the sweatpants anymore; he could feel your hand sliding over his skin, purposefully slow and tender. His eyes were barely open, your lips were still locked and he was trying to get you naked without actually seeing what he was doing. He grunted helplessly when you touched the tip of his cock. Wet sounds of you stroking his length, mixed in with his shallow breaths and moans, filled the kitchen. 

He nibbled on your neck, as your movements accelerated. With your non-dominant hand you tried your best to remove his sweatpants, but he stopped you.

“Turn around.” He whispered, pulling your hand away. The way he seduced you with his demanding voice and bedroom eyes, you gave in without a fight. You bucked your hips and grabbed the closest edge of the marble top. He bit your neck, gently sucking at the skin caught between his lips, until it looked bruised and then he moved on further down, while dry humping your ass, one hand firmly placed on your waist. A small gasp escaped your lips when his fingers slipped inside your panties. Automatically, you spread your legs wide, to let him access the delicate parts. 

He could smell your shampoo mixed in with your intoxicating scent and it was sending him over the moon as he played with your wet and sensitive clit.

“Good girl” he praised, when you pushed your ass further into his boner, craving to feel it bare.

You hummed, his thin and long fingers dancing to the tune of your arousal. He fingered you slowly and deliberately, and it was excruciating. 

It was the last time he was going to get to feel you. Tomorrow you'd be gone. It made him angry and sad. It made him desperate. 

You could feel his aggression in the way his lips collided onto yours with force, the way his nails dug into your skin, the way his body was stiff and wrapped around you in a solid cage.

His hold on you tightened and he spun you around again, to face him. He wanted to make sure you never forgot how he made you feel; so that no other man would ever be enough for you because he set that bar up so high. He wanted to spoil the idea of being pleased again by anyone else, for you. Maybe it was toxic to think that way, but he was already letting go of you.

He had no choice but to let go of you. The train of thought he'd gotten on made his brain short circuit and switch off. He wasn't aroused anymore and everything was blurry and confusing. Before he could stop himself, he took a step back.

“Don't leave me, noona.” He said in a small voice, looking at the floor.

The words crash on you like a violent wave. 

You wished he'd stayed looking at the tiles, because when he looked up, you felt the guilt of having accidentally run over a puppy. There was sadness and shame and anger and you didn't know which emotion to address first.

“Yugs….”

So many words swirled in your brain but your lips were sewn shut.

“So, I guess that's a no.”

“What are you trying to do, Yugyeom?”

“Oh well, It was worth a try.” He chuckled, rather bitterly.

What else was he expecting would happen.

Life is not a movie scene; the girl doesn't quit on her career for the boy, in real life. But was it valid for him to feel the sting that persistently worsened as you two stood opposite each other uncomfortably? He knew this was going to happen. He chose it with you. Hell, he chose it for you even. While he was trying to rationalise his own resentments, you straightened yourself up and started putting the buttons of your shirt back in place. 

“I don't know what you want to hear from me, Yugs. You know I don't want to leave you. And you don't want to come with me.”

Shit, that stung him even more.

“I have to leave for the airport in 12 hours so do we have to be like this?” You asked defeatedly. 

He shook his head and you extended your arms, waiting for him to fall into them.

“I'm really sorry we have to end this way.”

In his experience, there was no safer feeling than being held by you, but right now it was the root cause of all the knives ruthlessly jammed in his chest.

Nonetheless, he hugged you and exhaled pure agony.

“I'm gonna go take a shower. Maybe afterwards, if you feel like it, we can go get some drinks?” You asked cautiously.

“Yeah… I’d like that” he lied, as he let go. Truth be told, he couldn't look past the multiple ‘last times’ anymore. The last time he could hug you, the last time he could fuck you, the last time he could hear your voice… he couldn't do any of it. He didn't want to do any of it. He didn't want this for the last time. He heard you close the door to the bathroom and started fixing his appearance however he could, grabbed his wallet and phone and headed out. If he stayed in that house for a second more he felt he'd choke and die. He was trying to run away from the toxic fumes his own thoughts were emitting, and there was nowhere to hide from them, so he tried to leave them behind. 

His brisk walk turned into a sprint and then he ran as fast as he could towards the subway station. And just like that he vanished into the sea of anonymity, nowhere to be found.

Four hours had gone by since you'd come out of your shower to a deserted house and a singular message from Yugyeom. “Sorry noona, I can't do this.”

it felt like a cruel déjà vu.

His phone wasn't reachable. Bambam had no idea, neither did Jaebeom. You were much too confused to react in any appropriate manner.

“He left” You said to Jaebeom, who was equally confused and infuriated.

It seemed like you'd already connected the dots as to Yugyeom’s unavailability but a part of you was holding onto some hope.

“I'm sure he's gonna show up dude.”

“I have to leave in like 3 more hours. He wouldn't have left if he planned to show up.”

“He's definitely not at Bam’s?”

“Jae…. unless I was being lied to, he's not there. And i don't think Bam has any reason to do that.”

“Okay. Keep me posted.”

“Yeah” you sighed. 

You were neither angry, nor sad and you had good reason to experience both those emotions at once, but the way your brain had switched itself to autopilot, everything had just become a matter of necessity. 

You tried Yugyeom’s number once again, and weren't even surprised anymore when you heard the automated switched off message. 

While scanning the room your eyes fell upon your suitcases and your heart dropped 6 feet further than where it was already at.

You had to leave soon.

The silence had already been gnawing at your sanity, now it was overpowering guilt because if you had just said no, none of this would have happened. If you had just said no to the promotion. If you had tried harder for Seoul. If you had chosen to stay when Yugyeom asked you to, then the chain of events would have been different. Maybe, if he'd not run away from this whole situation you could have figured out a solution. But he wasn't here and you were running out of time.

A high pitched buzzer cut through the atmosphere, giving you a jump scare. For a second you thought maybe it was Yugyeom, but why would he need to ring the bell.

You saw Jackson's silhouette in the little alarm system by the door and sighed. 

“You look so unhappy to see me.” He huffed, when you greeted him dryly.

“Gee Jackson, sorry I'm upset about Yugyeom literally bailing on me when I have to leave in an hour.”

“Wait what? He's not back?” 

“No…..i don't know where he is.”

“And he's still not answering?”

“I tried about 50 times, it's off. Anyway, how come you're here?” 

It was comical how distraught you were internally and how inept you were at translating your emotions externally. The way you were talking, no one would think you were in this sad sad situation of leaving your life behind to start a new one.

“You don't remember asking me to drop you off?”

“Was I drunk?”

“Well…. tipsy maybe?”

“I was definitely drunk. I don't remember any of it. But, I'm glad you're here.”

“Are you…. packed?”

“Yeah, I just got the last batch of clothes I need to shove in.”

“Cool. You have anything to eat?”

“I made some sandwiches in the evening. Have at it.”

You were trying your best to be normal. A few minutes later Bambam and Jaebeom arrived as well, both without any worthwhile news of Yugyeom.

“I'm gonna kill him when I see him.” Jaebeom raged.”this is very childish.”

“It's fine man…. i know why he just vanished. It's okay. I'm not mad.” 

“Bro are you…. Hearing yourself?”

“Very clearly. He was never good with confrontational emotions. He didn't want to see me leave so he left. It's not rocket science.” 

“You went through your stages of grief really fast with this one.” 

“I didn't have an option.” you looked at the three of them sitting around you “So…. are all of you taking me to the airport?”

“Yeah, duh.” Bambam countered.

“Okay then wait for me in the car, I need to say bye to the house.”

“And you can't do that in front of us?” 

“Would you rather get uncomfortable watching me cry?”

Honestly, you were just prolonging it, the actual act of leaving. You felt so heavy when Jaebeom rolled your suitcases out. In passing you looked at your two favourite hoodies you'd left on the bed and it took everything out of you to not have an emotional breakdown right at that moment.

It was difficult, leaving was difficult especially without Yugyeom. You were in denial of your feelings but you were so angry at him but also so sorry towards him, your emotions kept cancelling each other out. You just wanted to hug him one last time and get the closure you were hoping to get but he took that option away from you. In your three year relationship, this was maybe the most cruel he’d ever been with you. But it was over now. This chapter was done, even with all of its loose ends.

You took your time saying your final byes to three of the most important people you'd met in Seoul. It was quite impressive that you didn't burst out in tears, even when Bam and Jae almost did. There was a part of you that was distracted by a hope that he'd be at the airport to see you off. When he wasn't at the main gates, you hoped he'd be there at check-in. While walking towards your departure gate you kept an eye out, hoping to catch a glimpse of his smile. You just wanted to say goodbye. But he never came. You sat glued to your spot, because what if he did try to find you and you weren't there. You boarded your flight at the very end. You gave an imaginary him all the imaginary chances you could, to materialise and tie a neat ribbon around your life in Seoul.

But your flight took off and the last shred of hope you had snapped and so did you.

Because life isn't a movie. Just like the girl doesn't leave her career, the boy doesn't run through the airport either. 

#got7 #yugy #yugyeom fanfic #yugyeom smut #got7creators #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfiction #got7 yugyeom #yugyeom fanfiction

[all-of-the-imagines-for-eve]

Protector ~ Embry Call

Word Count: 4100+

Request: "Can I request a embry call imagines where the reader y/n Is kinda shy and she is very scared around big crowds so she always holds onto a part of em and he loves protecting her! He imprinted but loved her before and she is pretty short I'm 5,2 so when she is behind him you can't see her! And a girl at her school is teasing her about being like embrys puppy following him everywhere and she gets shy and em feels her discomfort and steps in to comfort telling her to mind her own business. Thank you" by @cullens-stuff

A/n: This user has been so sweet to me even as I took AGES to write their (I don't know your pronouns I'm sorry) and I appreciate it SO MUCH so I was hella on top of this when I came back. This is my longest request by a long shot as I added a bit (because we stan a queen who can stand up for herself). Lol hope you like it hun!

MASTERLIST

Embry and Y/n were those kids who everyone knew would end up getting married one day. He doted on her and she got hyper and attentive when he was around. He gave her anything she asked for, and in return she would take care of him. Whether it was him giving her a piggyback ride, or her braiding his hair because it was in his face, they were always doing things for each other and staying stuck to each other's sides and it seemed that the friendship would never end.

Then they grew up, as most kids do. Puberty hit and anxiety rose and Embry made other friends, and after a time they were less inseparable and more casual friends. This was good, in the end, as the slight distance allowed Embry to go from joking and childhood crushing to actually seeing how pretty and smart and caring Y/n was. He might have gotten rowdy while she got quiet and reserved. He might have gotten taller and taller when she stopped growing in the fifth grade. He might live life for adventure and adrenaline while Y/n preferred to stay home and half learn skills and watch tv. They might be different. But it didn't matter. Embry Call had a huge crush on Y/n and it was becoming painful to watch as he did nothing about it.

Predictably, Y/n found herself in a similar predicament. She loved his hugs and how he pulled her right off her feet when they hugged. She loved how he was never bothered by how she hovered and instead made sure was nearby- within arms reach if he could help it. She loved that when she cuddled up next to him she fit right into his side, and how when things scared her or the sun was really bright she could step behind Embry and he would cover her completely. She loved how safe and loved she felt with him. She loved how he would constantly ask her to play with his hair, even if he had it up and especially when he noticed she was nervous and needed something to do. She loved... him.

The worst part was: Y/n was afraid of everything. Crowds. Bugs. Tall people. Mean people. Food that tasted good but looked really gross. Strong people. Places she wasn't familiar with... It's not that she was a coward, she was just small. She reached 5'2 and was shy and quiet and easily spooked. She had a faint heart and a weak stomach. She was cute and small and soft- the kind of person you looked at and immediately thought: PROTECT AT ALL COST! Which of course made Embry even more wonderful as he swooped in time and time again to have her back when she was struggling again.

Long story short: She was the purest of beans and he was her knight in shining armor and never before in their teenage lives at the kids that were apart of the pair's daily life been more in love with a couple that simultaneously made them so frustrated.

With all the potential wasted by longing and no action, everyone else was suffering.

They were perfect for each other... but they were also completely oblivious to the other's affections.

That was cured, more or less, when Embry became a wolf. He had to leave her side for a while as he figured everything out, but then he made eye contact with her one day and imprinted on her and everything lined up perfectly. What came next was a slew of Embry at the peak of awkwardness as he tried to explain to her how he'd felt all this time and about the whole werewolf thing.

She'd sort of had a melt down at first as she tried to wrap her mind around it all, but didn't scream and run away as he'd expected so honestly she handled it pretty well. After she got used to the idea and they figured things out between them, it had been simple to move from that point to the next.

Now they were inseparable again, just like they'd been as children. She was glued to his side and he was attentively protective of her. She could be touched by nothing. Crowds a problem? They'd hold hands, or he'd put her on his shoulders or carry her or give her a piggyback ride. Anyone stepping up to her to cause problems? Embry was there. Wether they were being harmful or flirty, Embry was there. Bug problem? Emrby suddenly had lightning fast and one hundred percent accurate attacks. He could swat it out of the air, or guide it out a window and away from them. Dog on your heels? Let's see how long it lasts against Embry, the werewolf.

After a while of Embry stepping up to protect her, Y/n fell into an easy habit of just holding onto him. It allowed her to easily communicate when she was nervous- all she had to do was squeeze and he was ready and able. He couldn't always be there, but he did his best and really that's all Y/n could ask for.

People were shipping it more than ever. They were the sweetest couple, unphased by anything and so full of love.

Well, actually, almost everyone.

Marina Kyle was one of those girls who used beauty to get power. She had most boys wrapped around her finger, and knew how to keep the girls that could tear her down as friends. She was manipulative and smart and absolutely gorgeous. No one told her no and no one could take her down.

No one but Embry Call.

Which seemed to bug her endlessly.

When she was younger, she'd had a crush on Embry. She'd tried everything to get his attention, to no avail. She'd dismissed it after a while as him being uninterested in girls or being one of those people who didn't want to date until college. Then he started dating Y/n. The girl was pathetic in Marina's eyes. Absolutely pathetic. Y/n should have been learning how to survive on her own, conquering her fears and getting stronger instead of letting her weaknesses own her so much. She didn't deserve Embry Call- tall and strong and pretty. As if to rub salt in the wound, everyone LOVED THEM together. Everyone was psyched when they finally got together and for a significant amount of time, that's all anyone ever talked about.

Marina tried to let it go. She'd lost. Whatever. But Marine NEVER lost and it finally got to her and she snapped. She knew she couldn't ever get to Embry, but Y/n would only ne too easy. She waited for her moment then made her strike.

"Hey there," she purred, leaning against the wall next to Y/n's locker. School was over and Y/n was getting her stuff out to take home for tonight's homework. She paused when she saw Marina.

Y/n smiled sweetly. "Hi." She put her math book in her bag last, zipping it up and putting it on her back. She looked twelve. Small and young and ridiculous. Her smile was warm and her eyes were clear of any malintent. She was pure and Marina absolutely hated it. "Can I help you with something?"

Marina put on a fake smile. "Yeah, I was just wondering: how do do it?"

Immediately Y/n was confused. "Do what?"

"Get yourself a guard dog like Embry Call. I mean-" She grinned, sighing dreamily. "He's tall dark and handsome incarnate, and protects you from every little thing that goes bump in the night. Such dedication and he's hot? You have to let me in on your secret!" Y/n opens her mouth to defend herself but Marina leans closer, intimidating her so she doesn't get it out. "Come on sweetheart, us girls have to watch out for each other. How did you do it? Did you sleep with him?"

"What?" Y/n squeaked. "No-"

"Black mail him?"

"No!" Y/n insisted, her eyes wide as she gripped her backpack straps tightly. "Look, I can't help you. Embry isn't some muscle for hire, he's my boyfriend." She spoke very quietly, her words fumbling due to fear. Marina was feeding off of it.

The taller girl hummed, her finger touching her lips in faux thoughtfulness. "I guess he just pities you then."

Y/n's eyes went wide. "Wh-" The small girl broke off. With all her insecurities, the thought had occurred to her before. She'd been assured every time she brought it up so she'd finally dismissed it, but if someone else saw it too... Maybe Marina knew something Y/n didn't. "How do you figure?"

Marins tilted her head back and forth a few times,, as if considering. She had a smile on her face that made Y/n feel like she had a secret, and it would ruin Y/n's life. Y/n got the impression Marina was excited to use her power. "I mean, he's quite a catch. He's got to have plenty of girls begging for his attention. But you like him and you're so small and... cute." She reached out and softly pinched Y/n's cheek. "I'm sure he just sees you like a stray puppy." Marina pat Y/n's cheek ad the smaller girl flinched. "How could he say no when the only thing standing between you and every shadow on the street is him? You need a big strong man to watch your back everywhere you go or you'll break down in no time. You do seem to be afraid of EVERYTHING, after all." She leaned away, waving her hand as she looked away. Her complete lack of consideration for the damages her words were doing made Y/n feel like they were even more real. Even more honest. Like what she was saying had some real weight to them. Marina had spoken a lot of truth so far. Why wouldn't she be right about Embry's feelings toward her as well? "Do you miss him when he leaves at night or does he sneak in your room to protect you from the boogie man hiding in the darkness too?"

Y/n hated herself as she felt tears come to her eyes. "It's not like that."

Marine sighed, turning away. "Whatever you say, Sweetheart. Have a safe walk home! I'm sure you'll be fine with Embry watching your precious back." She walked a few steps to the corner that lead to another hallway before pausing to say one last thing. "If he's a guard dog, does that make you his puppy?" She laughed, leaning against the wall and watching Y/n look away, her eyes unable to meet Marina's.

"Are you really so pathetic that you have to tear people down to get what you want?" The laughter suddenly cut off and two girls turned, surprised, to see Embry Call himself. His usual smile was replaced by a glare. The sharp kind that dug and stabbed into Marina's very soul, making her mouth snap closed and her fingers interlace behind her back. The confidence she had before melted and she suddenly looked as nervous as Y/n usually was. Embry stepped closer to Marina. "Can't you ever mind your own business, Marina, or do you have to shove yourself into everything?"

"You don't have to protect me," Y/n snapped. Embry and Marina both looked to her now and both were surprised by the look of anger she had. She wasn't directing it at either of them but at herself as her eyes trained on her hands. She slowly looked up, stepping purposefully. She was shaking, obviously afraid and downtrodden but not giving into it for the first time in a long time. For the first time since she was little and had to force herself to walk by the house with the dogs who would bark at her every time. When she forced herself to walk slowly instead of run. She took shaky steps toward Marina, wiping the tears off of her face. "As much as I hate to hear it, Marina was right about a lot of things. You shouldn't have to keep such a close eye on me. You shouldn't have to protect me from literally everything." Y/n turned away. "I'm walking home today Embry. Don't wait up."

She walked away and Embry went after her, leaving Marina who leaned against the wall with ease now that the intimidating boy was gone. She smirked. She was winning.

Embry tried to get Y/n to listen to him, but Y/n wasn't having it. She eventually reaching into her bag for her headphones and once she put those on, Embry knew he had lost this fight. He stopped walking when she snapped at him to leave her alone, letting her keep going without him. She watched as she passed the same house they used to walk past as kids. The house with the loud dogs that made her jump. The house that made Embry smile, because it was the first time he'd ever had to put his arm around her and push her to the other side of him to put himself between her and something that scared her. The first time he'd made it known that he would always be there to have her back and protect her, even if all she really needed was comfort.

It didn't make him smile now. As she walked, the dogs went off and Embry stepped forward to run after her as she flinched. But then he froze as she solidified her stance and turned to the dogs to stare at them. They didn't stop barking but eventually her body relaxed and she turned away, walking calmly and unbothered by the big dogs and their unrelenting barking.

He had never seen her do that before.

Was he too overprotective? If she could face her fears like that and had simply learned to depend on him to deal with it, was he holding her back from being as brave as she could be?

When Y/n avoided him for the next week, he let it happen. She obviously needed some time and space and he was always willing to give it to her. If she needed time to find her own strength instead of depending on his, that was okay. He wanted her to be secure in herself as well as him and their relationship. He could protect her, but he could also let her protect herself... if she could. He hoped she was just okay.

Turns out, she was. She'd taken the week to really think about what Marina had said. To separate what had been real from what had just been mean. Y/n was weak. She was a tad pathetic. Especially recently. She faced her fears one at a time. She walked past those dogs every day. She watched scary movies and learned breathing techniques to deal with her anxiety properly. She went to the ocean and stood quite deeply in it. Maybe not deep for a normal person, but definitely for her. She let the waves push and pull at her and stood her ground. She went to the aquarium and walked through the tunnel with the sharks and moved slowly and purposefully, even when a really huge one swan right at her a second before swimming up. It had just been a swimming, but it was so big and she was so small and for a second it felt like it was coming for her life specifically. She didn't run though. Again and again she dealt with irrational fear with determination and proved to herself that she could protect herself. She could handle this. She could handle anything.

Well, not quite everything.

As much as irrational fears weren't a problem, real fears were. Like crowds. Being so small meant that she could easily get lost in a crowd and when she went to the dance that was jammed with people dancing and walking around she hadn't realized how easy it was for her to get knocked around and almost trampled until it was happening and she was near tears as she tripped and almost fell flat on her face.

A hand caught her arm and pulled her into a chest. She looked up to see Embry, his expression half worry and half pride. She felt the anxiety lift away from her as she smiled. She moved away from him, brushing off her dress a little and pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "Thanks."

Embry chuckled. "Anytime, Princess."

The nickname made Y/n frown. It had been developed after Embry had been at Y/n's beck and call. He'd had her back so often that Y/n had jokingly called Embry her knight in shining armor. He'd responded with calling her his princess. It reminded her of how weak she was. She needed him...

No, she didn't. "I had it handled."

Embry frowned. "Y/n can I please talk to you outside?" She hesitated before nodding. They moved to a distant corner where no one could hear them. The night air was chilly but Y/n tried to play it off and even though Embry knew it was bothering her he knew that it would only cause problems for him to offer help so he didn't. He turned to her and she looked up at her. He sat down on a bench so he didn't tower over her so much. "You know I love you, right?"

Y/n sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yeah." She shook her head. "But Marina was right about me needing you too much. I was weak."

"You're small, Y/n." She went to argue with him but he began speaking, cutting her off. "That isn't a bad thing, it just means that you can hurt a lot more easily. You can get pushed around. You're lighter and easier to physically move. You could have really gotten hurt in there." He scooted closer, trying to enunciate the truth in his words. "You're right. I've been overprotective forever because I was terrified of anyone hurting you. I'm probably even worse now that you're so much smaller than me and I have this whole imprint thing messing with my head. And I've noticed how you've been handling things recently. I'm so proud of you for learning to depend on yourself and being stronger and stuff- it's awesome! But there are time when you're going to need help. Hell, there are times when I need help. I'm a werewolf! But I'm also part of a pack, and for a reason. We all need each other to take down vampires. None of us could do it alone. Even in normal every day life, sometimes I have to go to one of my friends when something doesn't make sense to me or I've bit off more than I can chew. Sometimes I need y mom's advice for something I have no idea how to handle because I'm still so stupidly young." He exhaled sharply and Y/n realized for the first time that Embry Call was not unbreakable.

She moved closer to him, taking one of his large hands in two of her tiny ones. "I just want to be able to be there for you as much as you are for me."

Embry smiled. "Y/n, you are." She started, surprised. "You think I come over at 1am just because you're afraid of the dark?"

"I'm not afraid of the dark."

"Exactly." He smiled. "I go to you because I need your comfort. Because life is frustrating and confusing and hard and the only thing that makes sense sometimes is you and me. You might be small but when you pull me into a hug when we're cuddled on your bed and I burry my face in your neck and can't see anything and my senses are full of you, I feel completely at peace. You make me feel safe. You make me feel strong. When everything's out of control and terrifying and I feel like I can't do anything, I know that I can love you and that I can do it well and no one can do it better than me. You ground me. You straighten me out when I'm spiraling out of control." He pulled her closer and she melted at his touch. "I know that when I can't do anything to save my pack and I have to just sit there and wait for something to happen and hope it turns out okay, I can look at you or touch you or kiss you and you'll blush and melt and smile and be happy. I can protect you and you'll be safe." His eyes he been watering and now a tear fell. Y/n raised her hand to wipe it away and he leaned into her touch. "I depend on you too Y/n, and you let me. You handle every crazy thing I throw at you without hesitation or holding it against me. I put you in danger actively by dating you. Remember everything I told you about Bella Swan?" Y/n nodded. "If I made enemies like Edward and her did, they could come for you in a second- you know that right?" She paused before nodding. "And you're okay with that?"

She sighed. "I know you'll always protect me Embry. And you're not a such of an idiot as Edward Cullen is."

Embry sorted in amusement and Y/n smiled. He calmed. "You're amazing. Do you realize that?"

"I'm pretty cool," she agreed. He grinned. The old dropped a little as she got serious. "I just don't want to be weak either. And I was. I am."

Embry thought about that for a second. "We're all weak in some way or another."

"That's not-" she began.

"No I'm serious!" Embry insisted. "We all have a weakness, Y/n. Yours is just that you're short." She rolled her eyes and he chuckled. "Can you imagine it being something worse? Like..." He trailed off. "Like the smell of blood driving you so crazy that it forces you to kill innocent people?" She looked away, her expression dark. He touched her cheek, guiding her eyes to his. "Or being so insecure and desperate for attention that you'll tear apart two in love, happy people just to make yourself feel better about not having someone like that yourself?" Y/n recognized the bite at Marina and tied not to smirk. "I love you Y/n. And maybe you can have your own back- that's fine. But sometimes you're going to need help. Let me help you those times. Please."

She hesitated before nodding. "Yeah, okay." She waved her hand, pulling it out of Embry's grasp to mirror what Marina had done weeks ago. "I suppose I'll allow you to be my guard dog." She put on an airy tone and looked away, dramatically teasing. She looked back, winking. They both laughed.

The next day, Embry and Y/n were back on track and better than ever. Marina, who had been thriving under the stress between the two, was pissed to see them have everything figured out. To her knowledge, Y/n was just as weak as before. Just as dependent on Embry as before. And just as easy to break without him to puppy guard her.

So she went in for round two.

And Y/n shut her down immediately.

"GOD don't you have a life? Get over yourself Marina not all of us depend on other people to fill what we lack in ourselves." Marina stood there, mouth agape stunned. Y/n shook her head. "You know I should actually thank you. You're the reason I finally found some confidence for myself. You helped me are my relationship even better. If it wasn't for you, Embry and I might have run into some real problems and had to break up." Y/n popped up on her tiptoes, tapping Marina's cheek like Marina had her a while back. "Let me return the favor by saying this: get a life and stop trying to ruin mine." The smaller girl's attention moved to something behind Marina. "Aw, if it isn't the cute little dog himself." Embry chucked as she moved to his side, Marina turning to face them with that same stunned expression. Y/n kissed him on the cheek and they walked off, leaving Marina to her own thoughts.

She had lost. Really lost. And they wouldn't be bothered by her ever again.

-

Forever Tag List: @bitchyseawitch @alexa-playafricabytoto @chipster-21 @captainxmikaelson @justanotherdaydreamersoul

[reversecreek]

clicks onto the dash wearing kitten heels n coyly holding my bang....... hi. me again. it took me so long to select a gif to use on cricket’s intro n i settled on this one bc he looks so unsure abt his smile n it’s rly his essence <3 u can find his pinterest board here n his (work in progress) spotify playlist here. hmu to plot!!! 

* alex wolff, cis male + he/him | you know cricket donahue, right? they’re twenty-two, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of their life, on and off? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to should have known better by sufjan stevens like, a million times this year, which slipping on wet leaves to photograph a tree struck alight by lightning, delivering a tedtalk to your own reflection to hype yourself up to buy groceries, hiding your hands inside of your sleeves in case you grew an impromptu megan fox thumb overnight thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is october 1st, so they’re a libra, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her )

HISTORY:

cricket ws born to a couple tht lived in lilac ridge. their trailer was tucked closest to the woods n always fell under the shade. it was like the leaves wanted to pretend they were a perpetual hanging cloud on the family n that was kind of fitting. their only reason fr having him in the first place was a kind of shrugged like........... we’re under the income bracket we’d get child benefits so why not! may as well try it to rake in some extra cash! needless to say they didn’t rly think it thru or anticipate all of the responsibilities tht came w children n wound up seeing him as an extremely large burden n boy didn’t he know it!

(child neglect & abuse tw) i’ll try to keep this part vague n brief but things were Not Good for cricket growing up. people in lilac ridge didn’t like his parents n it was for a gd reason. he remembers foggy things. being little n wandering around combing the grass with a stick to search for wrappers to suck on bc he was hungry. feeling uneasy when the front door opened. finding out his name was cricket bc the insects used to crawl into their trailer thru the vents n his parents liked to squish them into the carpet -- his mum told him as much once. i think this says a lot. to excessively trim the fat of the story he wound up entering the system at around 8 after his latest and most serious hospital visit. his parents hd to deal w the authorities n last he heard they bounced to evade charges.

(anxiety & violence & trauma tw) cricket sustained a few lifelong injuries from his time in lilac ridge. his knee didn’t heal right which meant he had (n still has to this day) a limp n he’s partially deaf in one ear. he’s always been an incredibly insecure n anxious person so this mde him rly self conscious going into a strange n new environment tht wld b difficult fr any kid to adjust to, nvm w these added worries. he jst felt like something weird to ogle at honestly. he probably wld have felt like that no matter where he was or what he looked like. he cld be in a huge hall of 200 people all wearing the same uniform n he’d still feel like the odd one out. needless to say this didn’t rly help him make friends

cricket’s coping mechanisms were romanticising the things tht other people found ugly or embarrassing or painfully ordinary. he liked it when the rain hit clunky drops against school windows n forbid everyone from playing outside bc he could feel the vibrations through the rubber soles of his shoes n it was a little bit like hearing all of the world at once fr just a moment. he liked medieval fantasy lore about stout gnomes w crumbs in their beards n cheeks red from ale. he liked fallen nests with the remnants of hatched eggs still dirty from the branches n soil they’d hit on the way down. he liked the way the sunlight leaked thru the leaves of the trees in the woods and how, when he sat very still, he could tune into the ringing that was always in his ear n pretend it was coming from the same place, that light thru the leaves, that the angels were trying to talk to him.

he spent a lot of time in the red room at his high skl (i’m begging u this is not a 50 shades reference) (after googling i jst realised it’s called a darkroom bt i’m leaving this fr the sake of sexy bimbo authenticity) n felt quite at home in there. he borrowed a camera whenever he cld (maybe he did yearbook) n photography became his way of immortalising the world as the romanticised version he wanted it to be. his memories were bad bt his photos were beautiful. maybe if he took enough they’d paste over n bleed into each other. maybe bad cld be replaced w beautiful if he tried his very best.

he got placed into fostering w a family once bt apparently didn’t meet the vibe check of their tastes so he wound up returning to the group home he’d initially been placed in. overall this is where he grew up n he aged out the system rather than getting adopted. there was a sense of floundering/isolation/not feeling gd enough in tht bt cricket made do the best he knew how. 

that said there were some gd points! (shocking i kno bc his life hs been so fking bleak so far bt please it’s ok........) (is it?) (🤔). basically he interned as an assistant at this local photography studio during high skl working under this kind of whimsical yet endearing old man. suspected wizard possibly in cricket’s eyes, as an avid fantasy genre reader. for one of his bdays said old man / his boss bought him his very own film camera n cricket cried bc he’d never been bought a bday gift. this ws rly embarrassing bc this old man didn’t know how to emote n neither did cricket so he ws jst sort of sat wiping his eyes n sniffling saying he wasn’t crying as the old man pretended to suddenly clean his lenses. when cricket graduated he offered him a full time position there. they do like. wedding photographs n family portraits n all kinds of things...... pay isn’t huge bt it’s something n he Loves taking photos so it’s sexy <3

PERSONALITY:

SUCH an anxious person it’s actually unreal. overthinks absolutely everything he’s ever said. one morning he might hv put green socks on n for the rest of the day he’s nervously looking around like omggggggg they’re all looking at my socks probably thinking im a little green sock boy thinking i’m a fool n a jester this is all everyone’s probably thinking about i hv to hide my green socks..... even tho literally no-one cares

once saw a girl eating a chicken wing n in his head was like ok she likes chicken good future gift idea..... n turned up at her house with an entire rotisserie chicken

probably thinks WAY too hard abt what to write in bday cards n googles like generic ideas that he can use.... u open a card from cricket n it always says smthn weird like “Warmest wishes and love on your birthday and always!” or “You deserve everything happy. Wishing you that all year long!” tht he got off google

nervously fiddles w things a lot. literally anything. his hair. the cuffs of his sleeves. a thread on his bag. u name it

struggles w eye contact sometimes............ it’s like. he wants to talk to ppl n make friends bt he’s honestly so bad at it. he’s fumbling thru life like a nervous headless chicken

ALWAYS has his camera on him. like always. will tke a photo of u bc he thinks u look nice then be like im so sorry im so sorry...... bowing his head shakily holding his camera bc he doesn’t even kno what possessed him he jst thought it’d be a nice photograph bt boundaries exist. probably breathes very heavily over this later in his room panicking thinking he nw seems like hannibal lecter

probably more confident online bc he has time to think abt what he says more.......... i can see him hving a group of online friends tht he’s more confident w. honestly he’s pretty witty at heart he jst has a hard time verbalising things so ppl overlook him sometimes bt once u get to know him more / he’s more comfy he can b a funny little man.....

loves photographs where he cuts something out of them. loves missing spaces n voids. thinks it’s a rly interesting concept when something that isn’t there becomes the focus of a photograph where everything else is. probably loses his mind fr a collage like a front row 1d stan. likes experimenting w light n perception. pretty artistic honestly hs probably made a stop motion film in the past bc that’s just an extended form of photography in his mind bt i doubt he showed anyone

ummm...... very sweet bt like. he reminds me a lot of this quote. “he had the awkward tenderness of someone who has never been loved and is forced to improvise.” feel like tht sums him up quite nicely

WANTED CONNECTIONS

someone he met at a wedding: cricket probably ws forced to photograph a wedding fr his boss one time n it cld b interesting as a place to meet from that....... like. i can imagine either it being rly awkward maybe he accidentally spilled a drink on ur muse n was stuttering rly apologetic n it ws just a train wreck. or mayb they took pity on him or even (in a shocking turn of events) a shine to him n invited him to drink n dance. omgggg the thought of cricket trying to dance makes me wna die n probably mkes cricket wna hyperventilate bt idk maybe he went wild n let loose. mayb they wound up damaging the camera somehow. mayb they had to scramble to get another one n ur muse covered the cost n it was a strange late night excursion tht cricket thought about a lot since. cricket probably vowed to pay them bk somehow no matter what. idk. we can work things out. lots of diff options here. doesn’t have to b a wedding either can b any event tht required a photographer

ppl he went to school w: pretty self explanatory i suppose...... maybe they were frm completely different worlds..... mayb ur muse was popular n cricket was definitely not but they got paired fr an assignment n had to work on a project together....... mayb cricket asked ur muse on a date one time n it was completely embarrassing bc he didn’t realise they had a bf n it haunts cricket at night still bc he’s rly dramatic.... mayb ur muse felt sry fr him n ate lunch w him n inducted him into their group like a lost puppy finding a home.... world’s our oyster

neighbours from his brief time at lilac ridge: not to reference taylor swift but i’m gna reference taylor swift n say we cld do a seven inspired plot here. sighs a little..... then sighs a lot. he was here ages 0-8 so idk. we cld work out childhood plots perhaps....

sickening simp: i mean.............. cricket probably gets crushes on ppl so easily like just. anyone who’s the slightest bit nice to him.................. he’s a disgrace. ok i take it back. bt also please get it together freak............... i didn’t say that. he’d probably b extra nice to this person n try n pay close attention to things they liked so he cld get them little gifts. just a bit embarrassing n lovestruck bless his heart. wldn’t expect anything back tho honestly that just isn’t something he tends to do.

let’s go gays: cricket’s bi but he probably was rly in his head abt liking boys n tried to sort of squash it internally during his younger yrs...... i think he’s more comfy w it now MAYBE idk bt back then i picture him having a friend tht ws kind of like. similarly loserish as him perhaps (no offence to ur muse potentially filling this plot or cricket bt let’s face the facts) n they’d hang out n play games a lot n one time it jst kind of happened n he was like............. *struts in looking around sharply* What going on here? except not. bc it’s cricket. more like *shambles in looking around anxiously* What’s, uh... What’s... the happenings? S--... I’m sorry. (immediate apology for saying what’s the happenings bc nobody talks like that n it was an impulsive panic bc he didn’t know what else to say)

those who grew up in the system w him: maybe at the group home or i’d also like the family that fostered him n said sayonara. honestly i imagine the parents just thought he ws a bit too much of a handful / had too much baggage which is rly quite merciless n terrible but. if u think that aligns w ur muses home situation hmu......

um. can’t think of more bt just anything honestly. jst go wild.......

#irvingintro #abuse tw #neglect tw #trauma tw #anxiety tw #violence tw #DOES A LITTLE JIG #admittedly i didnt include a formative moments section like my other intros bc idk what kind of superpowers i was inhaling the fumes of #for those intros but #i'm a mere mortal now.

[diazevan]

7. I’ve Got You “Support”

After pulling over at a motel, for the night, the team undergoes strange experiences, that seems to be out to claim the lives of the people closest to them - Tony is sure, that Peter is sleepy soundly, throughout the ordeal.

Warning: Characters are controlled, by a supernatural force, which makes them suicidal. 

Inspired by the episode 'Motel California,' from season three of MTV's Teen Wolf.

AO3 Link

Tony agreed that the team deserved a ‘work retreat,’ after the year they’d had, a break where those, who wanted to, could spend a week without a care in the world, doing nothing.

Peter wanted to go too, so they waited patiently until he was on spring break before heading off.

Tony cursed himself, wishing he’d planned the trip, instead of leaving it to Steve. The Captain was old fashioned, he wanted to go on a road trip, and refused to fly.

A twelve-hour drive to Chicago didn’t sound too bad, but Tony completely forgot, during the planning stage that the kid, suffered tremendous motion sickness when it came to traveling in cars. In Tony’s defense, he only forgot, because he’d traveled, by car, a far distance, with Peter, once, and then refused to ever do it again. He’d rather fly, with the kid, to keep both their sanities in check.

After six years, and five of those spent mourning Peter, it briefly slipped Tony’s mind.

On field trips, when they traveled across the country on the bus, Peter took super soldier travel sickness tablets and would doze off, either with his head rested against Ned or Michelle’s shoulder. Tony had seen the pictures, they were ridiculously adorable.

Even though they were in traveling in a fancy minibus, that had televisions and air-con, it didn’t stop Peter’s ailment.

The kid, caught up in his excitement, hadn’t forgotten to take his pills, and May had been called into work, to cover a shift, so it passed her mind too when she bid goodbye to a sleepy Peter.

At the end of the day, all three of them messed up. No one was to blame.

They were six hours into the journey when Tony realized his mistake.

They pulled over for dinner, at a Burger King, and as soon as Peter stepped outside, he collapsed to his knees and brought up his breakfast, Tony was surprised that he didn’t bring up a lung.

Long story short, they had to make an unscheduled pitstop at the closest motel, for the night. Steve found it on the map, and they drove half an hour. Peter spent the entire journey, with his head rested against Tony’s arm, silently groaning about his luck.

They parked up, on the roadside.

Clint peered out the window, “Wow.” He snorted a chuckle, “Definitely not five stars.”

“It’s only for one night.” Rhodey teased, throwing a backpack at him, “You’re a spy, I bet you’ve seen worse.”

Natasha got up, swinging her overnight bag onto her shoulder, “We once to a motel that didn’t even have beds, like, we slept on cardboard, but you know—”

Clint leaped up, “It was comfy cardboard.”

“I guess.” Natasha gave a half shrug, “I could hear Clint’s snoring through a wall though.”

“I do not snore.”

Tony waited until everyone was off the bus, before helping Peter up, “Come on, kiddo.” He grabbed Peter’s listless arm, hanging it over his shoulders, “One step, at a time.”

Peter slurred, “I’ve got it, Mr. Stark.”

They made it out, onto the road, “This is what happens when you don’t get your beauty sleep.”

“Uh.” He leaned his head back on Tony’s arm, “Shut up.”

“Okie Dokie.”

Sam folded his arms and looked over, with a smirk, “Such a lightweight.”

Natasha slapped his arm, and stared him down, with her infamous glare.

Steve jogged over, coming back from the kiosk, holding room keys in his hand, “Here.” He handed Tony his credit card back, “Thanks.”

Tony pocketed it, “No trouble.”

“There were only five rooms left for tonight.” Steve held up the keys, “So, we’re gonna have to share.”

Clint inclined his head, “Ugh.”

Bruce spoke up, “That works out, there is ten of us.”

Wanda beelines for Natasha, taking her hand and standing aside from the others.

Clint held up his hand, over his head, “I choose Sam.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, “What?”

Clint skidded over to him, “You’re the only one who doesn’t snore.”

Sam nodded, “Oh, okay.”

Steve spun on his heel, “Buck?”

Bucky shrugged, “I don’t care, as long as it has walls.”

Tony held up his head, motioning to Peter, “I guess I’ll take this one, then.”

That left Rhodey, with Bruce, neither of them seemed to mind that.

Everybody started hurrying to their rooms, Clint and Sam’s room was right behind them, so they headed straight in, Natasha and Wanda rushed up a set of metallic stairs, to the upper floor of rooms.  

Rhodey and Bruce had a trek, to the opposite side of the lot.

Tony took the last key from Steve, and stepped aside, reading the number, “Ugh, stairs.” He groaned, turning to the same side Natasha and Wanda had sprinted off to, “Pete, can I carry you?”

Peter shook his head,, “No way.”

“Walking it is, then.” They slowed made their way up the stairs, Tony turned back to Steve and Bucky who were waiting behind, “Sorry, we’re taking it slow.”

Steve smiled, “We don’t mind.”

Tony pushed Peter’s back, helping him up the last step, “Next time we do something let this..” He said, to Steve, “We’re flying, not driving.”

Steve held out his hands, “Driving is more of an adventure.”

Tony fumbled with the key, unlocking the door, “Not for a kid who gets motion sickness.”

Bucky barked a laugh, “Isn’t he Spider-Man?”

“I’m generalizing here.” Tony explained, “He doesn’t do well in cars.”

Bucky frowned, “Ah, okay.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t make sense, but Pete never has.” Tony clicked the door open, “Night-Night.”

Peter stumbled away from Tony, and landed, face first, onto one of the beds, “This is nice.” He mumbled, without turning his face around.

Tony laughed, placing their bags down onto his bed, “Wanna get into your pajamas?”

Peter shook his head, “Uh-uh.”

“Okay.” He paced into the bathroom, poured a glass of water, and walked back in, grabbing two super soldier pills from the backpack, “I’ve got the drugs, sleepyhead.”

Peter sat up, hunched over, with his eyes half-open, “Thank you.” He took them, and then fell back down, comforted by the pillows.

Tony bent down, pressing a kiss against Peter’s temple, “Don’t let the bed bugs bite, buddy.”

He moved over, sitting on the other bed. He put the television on, quiet, and lost himself in the stupidity of Reality TV.

Peter fell asleep pretty fast, gently snoring to himself.

Tony messaged Pepper, asking her if Morgan was any trouble getting to sleep, she was being a real madam, recently. He then informed May, of their forgetfulness.

Tony's stomach rumbled, “Uh.” He’d seen a vending machine, below the stairs. He got up, grabbing the room key, he gently tiptoed out, being as quiet as possible.

Bruce was standing, in front of the machine, studying it with wide eyes.

“Midnight snacking, hey?” Tony joked, as he got closer, “I won’t tell.” He leaned in, noticing that the machine was dead, the lights were off, and nothing was coming up on the selection screen.

“Oh, shit.” He reached for his phone, “I might order—”

Tony jumped, out of his skin, when Bruce extended his closed fist, punching the side of the machine and shattering the glass.

“Um..” Tony stood still, remembering Bruce’s boundaries, “Are you okay?”

Bruce grabbed two packets of chips and turned back, “I’m just tired.”

He watched, as Bruce made his way back up to his room, “Alright…” He tapped his watch, “Friday, honey, can you tell Rhodey that Bruce seems to be acting off? It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Of course, Boss.”

Footsteps coming down the stairs, caught Tony’s attention, he turned to see Natasha, holding a pile of folded towels, “Hey.” She stepped over, “You good?” Her eyes locked onto the machine, she raised an eyebrow, “Did you break it?” She laughed uncertainly, “You’re a billionaire, just order.”

Tony rolled his eyes, gesturing to it, “Bruce did it.”

“Oh.”

“He was acting weird.”

“He’s probably just tired.” She said, “Have you warned Rhodey?”

“Yeah.”

She darted his eyes around, “I’m sure it will be fine.”

Tony nodded, hoping the same, “What are you doing?”

“Getting new towels, these smell like smoke.” She complicated, “Wanna join me?”

“Sure.”

She looped her arm around his prosthetic arm, and they headed over to the kiosk, “Come on, then.”

A lady was standing inside, with her back faced towards them.

“Excuse me?” Natasha spoke, with her ‘civilian’ voice, that was oddly gentle and high pitched, “You don’t have any spare towels, do you? I’ve got a non-smoking room, but these ones reek of nicotine.”

“Yes, of course, love.” The clerk said, with a croaky voice, she turned to face them – she was well into her sixties, she had a cigarette in her hand, but contrastingly, a tracheotomy tube in her throat, “I’ll get those for you now.”

Natasha slid over the old towels, wearing an awkward smile, “Thanks.”

Tony looked around, noticing a plaque on the board behind the clerk, that read ‘112.’

The clerk handed Natasha new towels, and turned to Tony, “Do you need anything, Mr. Stark?”

"Um, our friend...." He motioned back, "Accidently broke your vending machine, I'm okay, with covering the costs--"

"No worry dear, that old thing hasn't worked for months-" She informed him, "It's scheduled for removal." 

Tony nodded, "Alright..." His eyes found the plaque again, "Um-"

The clerk gestured back, "You admiring our memorial plaque, sweetheart?"

Natasha's forehead creased, "Memorial plaque?"

Tony pushed further, “What does that mean?”

She shook her head, with a cackle, “Oh, that’s an inside joke.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll warn you, it’s morbid.” She laughed, “You really wanna know?”

“We’ve seen a lot of morbid.” Tony said, truthfully, nodding his head towards Natasha – there had never been a truer statement, considering Tony almost died, and Natasha was actually dead, for a short period, until Steve returned the soul stone to Vormir, “Hit us.”

“We're not gonna make the top of anyone's list when it comes to customer satisfaction.” She mocked, “But we are number one in Cleveland when it comes to one disturbing little detail. Since opening, more than any other motel in Cleveland, we have the most guest suicides.”

Tony’s jaw dropped, “Wow.”

Natasha leaned up, whispering in his ear, “That wasn’t in the brochure.” She held up the towels, “Thank you.”

They quickly scurried away, “That was disturbing.” Tony snickered nervously, “This is the last time I let Steve Rogers decide our emergency pit stop. If I’d asked Friday, she would have found us a nicer place.”

“I don’t know.” Natasha’s mouth twitched into a smile, “It’s creepy, but it’s kinda fun.”

They made their way up the stairs, “That’s so you.”

A door swung open, and Wanda darted into view, throwing her arms out, grabbing onto the railings in her front of her.

Tony’s smile dropped, “Wanda?” He looked to Natasha, who looked as equally as concerned, “You okay?”

She turned, her face, as white as a sheet, “Did you hear that?”

Natasha looked around, “What?”

“The couple, next door, it sounded like—” Wanda pointed, to the room, behind them, with a shaking hand, “—Like they’re making a suicide pact.”

“Shit—” Tony jumped into action, hurrying back, and knocking his fist, rapidly, against the door, “Hello!”

“Get out of the way.” Natasha barked, throwing the towels aside, she raised her foot, kicking the door open, swiftly.

Tony leaped inside, flipping on the light switch, but there was no couple – the room seemed to be under construction, covered with white sheets, and full of building equipment.

“This doesn’t make sense.” Wanda paced inside, tears in her eyes, “I heard them, they were so clear.”

Natasha peeled back one of the sheets, to reveal splatters of blood, across the wall, “Look.” 

Tony held a hand under his chin, “Holy shit.”

Natasha studied it, “They were here?”

Wanda exclaimed, “But it was now, I heard them—”

“Your powers, they’re constructed from the mind stone, your mind is on a different wavelength from ours, right?” Tony asked, gently.

“Yeah.” Wanda nodded, “I still don’t really know the full extent of them.”

“I’m sorry.” Tony rested a hand on her arm, “But I think you heard an echo, a memory of the people who died in this room.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks, “I can hear the dead?”

Natasha walked back over to them, “Is that even possible?”

“Strange would be the one to ask.” Tony held out his arms, “I’m only theorizing.”

“I don’t like it here.” Wanda moved away, she took out her phone, “I’m gonna call Vis.”

Vision, Thor, Scott, and everybody else, for that case, had the right idea, of sitting out for the work retreat.

Wanda stared at her phone, her forehead creased, “No signal.”

“That’s impossible.” They all had new StarkPhones, and the connection was impeccable, “That—” He took out his phone, “No way.”

Natasha leaned over to see, “I thought your phones were absolute.”

“They are.”

She prodded his screen, “Not in creepy motels.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Look, these aren’t murders.” Natasha pointed out, “They’re suicides.”

Wanda squealed, “These?”

Tony looked up, “This place has a history with suicide.”

“It does?”

Natasha blew a slow breath, “Yeah, the owners keep score.”

“That’s gross.” Wanda put her phone back in her pocket, “I wanna leave.”  

“We should round everybody up and find somewhere new.” Tony agreed, “I don’t wanna risk it.”

They left the room and pulled the broken door to a close.

“Hey!” Rhodey called, from down in the car park, waving his hand.

All three of them hurried down, to meet him, in the middle.

Tony rushed over, placing a hand on his arm, “What’s wrong?”

“Any of you seen Bruce? “ He asked, “He went to get snacks but never came back.”

Tony slouched his shoulders, his heart running at a mile a minute, “He was acting weird when I last saw him.”

“He was?”

“Didn’t Friday alert you?”

“No.”

Tony clicked the side of his watch, “Friday, did you send the message to Rhodey?” He received no response, “Friday?”

Rhodey shook his head, “That’s not normal.”

“No signal, No Friday.” Tony hid his trembling hands in his pockets, “This is—"

Steve sprinted down the stairs, “Anybody seen Bucky?” He asked, worry laced in his tone, “He just, disappeared while I was in the shower, and he was—”

“Let me guess.” Natasha tilted her head to her shoulder, “Acting weird?”

“Yes.” Steve frowned, “Like he was, out of it.”

“It’s not only him.” Rhodey said, “Bruce is gone.”

“Something weird is going on here.” Tony itched the back of his head, “It’s not right.”

“Bucky and Bruce?” Natasha raised, “What do they have in common?”

Tony held out a hand, “Super soldier serum?”

They all turned, looking at Steve, who blurted, “I feel fine.”

Tony muttered, “Control?”

Rhodey stepped in closer, “What was that?”

“Lack of control.” Tony suggested, “Both of them, have lost control of their minds, before. In extraordinary ways. Perhaps, whatever’s going on here, it’s taking advantage of that fact.”

Steve and Rhodey, who had no idea about the history of the place they were standing in, stared at him like he had egg on his face.

Natasha jumped, smacking Tony’s arm, “Loki overpowered Clint’s mind.”

Wanda turned, sending a blast over to Sam and Clint’s door – the noise would be enough to wake the surrounding neighborhoods.

Rhodey’s eyes widened, “That’s a way to do it.” 

Wanda turned, “Should I wake up Peter?”

“No.” Tony squeezed the brim of his nose, but he wished he could simply grab Peter and get out, he had to look at the big picture. The kid was asleep, recovering, the safest place for him, despite the circumstances, was that motel room, “He’s probably sleeping through this, I’ll grab him in a second.” He looked around, noticing something obvious,  “There’s no cars.” He said, “It’s a car park and there are no cars—”

Steve cut in, “But there were only five rooms.”

Tony clicked his fingers, “Unless…there wasn’t.”

Wanda jumped in, “We’re the only ones here?”

“Maybe.”

Sam and Clint’s door swung open, they both walked out, in their pajamas, bleary-eyed.

Clint barked, “What the hell?”

“This isn’t funny.” Sam groaned, “What’s going on?”

“Mind control.” Natasha said, blatantly, “We think.”

“But we’re on holiday.” Clint groaned, holding his head back, “Mind control is so 2012.”

“We’re only guessing.” Natasha pulled him aside, “You feel okay?”

“Yeah.” Clint said, “I was sleeping.”

Sam folded his arms, “Can someone explain what’s going on?”

“Quick rundown.” Tony said fast, “This place is famous for its suicides.”

Clint sang, “Terrific.”

“Bruce and Bucky are missing, and they were acting weird.” He held up a hand, silencing Clint’s remarks, “And yes, weirder than usual.”

Natasha added, “Like they weren’t in control.”

Clint rubbed the nape of his neck, “You think whatever is going on here, it’s controlling people who have lost control of their minds before?”

“Yeah.” Tony nodded, “So, you feeling alright?”

“Just tired.” Clint shrugged. “I mean, I know I went through it, with Loki, but definitely not as bad as those two have.”

Natasha crossed her arms, “Could the super solider serum still be involved?”

Tony held out a hand, “It could be both.”

Steve added, “Or neither.”

Tony bit down on his nails, “Whatever it is, we need to look for them.”

A noise echoed from the upper floor, they all jumped, out of their skin.

Tony looked up, he knew that noise, he was a mechanic, after all, “That’s—” It was coming from the room, under construction. “That’s a handsaw!” He charged up the stairs, as fast as possible, with everybody hot on his tail, he threw the door open.

Bucky was stood, in the center, holding the handsaw in his hand, like it weighed nothing, and he was about to slice himself in half with it.

“Barnes, no!” Tony screamed, charging ahead, with his arms held up.

Steve leaped over, “Buck!”

Tony pulled on Bucky’s arm, “Wanda!”

Wanda hurried inside, using her powers to pull the handsaw aside, she left it suspended in the air as Rhodey dashed over, pulling the plug out of the power socket.

Bucky growled, he pulled his metal arm free from Tony’s grasp and tried to crawl, at his stomach, “No!”

Wanda held up her hand, trying to get into his head, “I can’t stop him! His mind is—"

Tony taped his prosthetic arm, firing up the reactor,  “Close your eyes.” He told everyone, as he held it up, blinding Bucky, with a quick flash.

Bucky jerked backward, landing on his backside, “What the hell?” He pushed himself up, on his elbows, “What’s going on?”

“Can’t believe that worked.” Tony backed out, pointing to Steve, “Explain it to him, everybody else look for Bruce – I’m grabbing Peter.”

They all scattered, calling Bruce’s name.

Tony darted down, towards his room, he fumbled for the key, “Come on, come on—”

“Somebody!” Natasha shrieked, from her room, “Quick.”

“Fuck,” Tony turned, hurrying back, “What—”

She charged back inside, “Quick, it’s Bruce!” She led him into the bathroom.

Tony wasn’t ready for the sight.

Bruce was in the bathtub, holding himself down, with the safe that was in the bedroom, it was pressed against his chest.

Tony jumped into action, trying to move it, “It’s no good.”

Natasha tried to get to the plug, “The drain’s blocked.”

“Stand back.” Tony did the same, as before, blinding Bruce with the reactor.

Bruce sat up, with a roar, he tossed the safe aside, on the bathroom floor, “What—what—”

“I got this.” Natasha pushed Tony’s arm, “Go and get Peter.”

“Thank you.” Tony charged down, throwing his door open, “Come on, Pete This place is screwed.” He moved his hand, flipping on the switch.

But as the light flickered on, Tony’s world grew darker.

Peter wasn’t there.

“Peter?” He stepped inside, looking around, “No.” He stepped into the bathroom, “Peter!” He ran back outside, screaming, “Peter!”

Rhodey’s panicked stricken voice, grabbed his attention, “Tones…”

Tony snapped his head around, “What?”

“I found him.” Rhodey leaned over the gate, pointing down to the car park.

Tony leaned over, looking at the bigger picture, “No.”

Peter was standing, in the center, surrounded by a puddle of gasoline, and in his hand, was an emergency flare, that they stored in the back of the van.

“Kid!” Tony hurried, down the stairs, towards the chaos, “Peter!”

One wrong moved, and his kid was gone, again.

Everyone followed, standing around, with nothing to say.

Tony spun, “Wanda?”

“I can’t see into his mind, I can’t move the—” She seemed helpless, “I can’t move the flare, he could drop it, I could drop it—”

“Don’t worry.” Tony said quietly, “I’ve got this.”

The gauntlet would have the same problem, Peter would drop the flare, into the gasoline, from the shock.

Tony slowed his breathing and turned, “Hey, kid.”

Peter’s eyes were glassy, unfocused, but underneath it, Tony’s Peter was fighting to get back to the surface, he needed a helping hand, “It’s my fault.”

“What…” Tony stammered, “What’s your fault, kiddo?”

“Everything.” Peter’s eyes filled with tears, “My Mum and Dad – I should have made them stay.”

“Peter, you were only six.” Tony pointed out, keeping his voice low, “What happened to your parents shouldn’t have happened. They deserved better, and so do you.” His throat cracked, “It’s not your fault, buddy. You couldn’t have stopped them from leaving. No one knew what was going to happen.”

“Ben.” Peter met Tony’s gaze, “He was following me, when he was shot—I stormed out.”

The team held their surprise, for they had never heard these stories – they knew about the loss, but not about the circumstance.

“You were going through a change that no one else has before, Pete.” Tony spoke with his stomach in his throat, “Teenagers storm out all the time. That is not your fault. You know that. May has told you that, so many times, it—”

Peter cut in, “She hates me.”

Tony hiccuped, “She could never hate you.”

Peter tightened his grip around the flare, “Ben would still be here if it wasn’t for me—”

“No.” Tony interrupted, “You are not responsible for the actions of others.”

“What about you?”

Tony stared, at a loss for words.

“You nearly died.”

Tony looked, at his prosthetic arm, “That was my choice, Pete.”

Tears fell down Peter’s cheeks, “You did it for me.”

“Still not your fault.”

“Everyone around me gets hurt.” Peter’s chin trembled, “You’ll all be gone if I stay.”

“No, baby.” Tony edged closer, “No, we need you.” He motioned back, “All of us need Peter Parker.”

“Nobody needs me!” Peter snapped, “That’s what they say.”

“Who?”

“People at school.”

“They’re bullies, nothing more.” He pointed, to the flare, “I’m gonna need you to pass that to me, kiddo, and then we’ll figure this out together, huh? Like we always do.”

“Not this time.” Peter said, emotionlessly, “I’ve had enough.”

“Okay, buddy. Listen to me, okay?” Tony pleaded, “Something is doing this to you. Making you think this. They went after Bruce and Bucky – they’ve got to you too. I should have realized, I should have guessed—”

Control? Peter lost control of everything when he was bitten by the spider. It changed his genetics, overnight, and that should have killed him. Tony wasn’t there then, but he could imagine, the agony the kid went through. The venom, from the spider, had a similar structure, to the super-soldier serum, but it wasn’t the same, still, Tony had only just connected those dots. He’d hate himself, for being that slow, no matter how this turned out.

“No, I don’t—” Pete shook his head, “No, this is me, I’m a mistake.”

“This isn’t you.” Tony sniffled, “We’re gonna be okay, kiddo. I promise.” He pointed, “You’re not a mistake. Anything but. You’re—” His voice wavered, “You’re my kid, and I love you—”

The unfamiliarity in Peter’s eyes started to clear.

“So, if…” Tony stepped forward, into the gasoline, “If you’re gonna do this…”

Rhodey gasped in a gentle knowing tone, from behind, “Oh, Tones…”

Tony swallowed the lump, in his throat, “You’re gonna have to take me with you then.”

Peter’s face contorted, as he stared Tony in the eye.

Tony carefully pulled the flare out of Peter’s grip, he held it back, “Take it.”

“I—” Steve wrapped his hand around it, avoiding the gasoline puddle, “I’ve got it.”

“Thank you.”

Peter flinched, his body slouching, “Mr. Stark?” He squeaked, looking around, the car park, “What—”

Tony reached over, pressing a hand against Peter’s cheek, “Hey there, kiddo.”

Peter leaned into his palm, he blurted, “That wasn’t me, that wasn’t—Oh, God—I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t—"

Tony tugged him into a hug, combing his hand through Peter’s gasoline-ridden hair, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He muttered, “You’re back.” He held him, tight, “I’ve got you."

#whumptober2020 #no.7 #i've got you #irondad #irondad fanfiction #the avengers #tony stark #peter parker #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #rhodey #steve rogers #bruce banner #clint barton #sam wilson #bucky barnes

[cateringisalie]

FFVII Halloween 2020 Day 2

Written for the prompt ‘The Thing’

Moving Jenova from the reactor to the mansion had been Hojo’s idea – and despite flouting Gast’s own biohazard guidelines for the project, seemingly sensible. While the cell cultures they took from her body lasted them a good long while, it still necessitated a gruelling trip back up the mountain with armed guards and a delay into the experiments. When it was Gast’s turn, it was hard not to fret and worry about what Hojo was doing in his absence. The man was brilliant, or at least able to achieve stunning results. His work ethic was horrible. Poor hypothesis when he bothered with them and a disregard for many safeguards and ethical constraints. His suggestions had been unpalatable from the start but Gast was successful in fending them off. But pressure came down from on high. Somehow Hojo had the President’s ear in a way Gast did not. There was still a deference to him as the project’s originator, but Hojo promised faster results and greater achievements. The cost seemed too high. And now this current nightmare. Now in the midst of it, there seemed to be so many warning signs before tonight. Inconsistencies and strange decisions now in retrospect screaming something bad was going to happen. Hojo’s utter fixation on Jenova, his tendency to use the name as almost a personal affection. The strange glyph thoroughly excised and replaced with Jenova on some of his work-pads. The increasing late-nights, Hojo’s reluctance to leave the room her remains were stored in. Little things he had overlooked and disregarded. Until the point Hojo undid all the safeguards on the sample cylinder. Until the location of Jenova’s body became an unknown quantity. The lab and the mansion were shut down the second the loss was discovered. Theoretically the body should be easily findable. There was only so much space in the interior, so many places to conceal a body. Only, when Gast demanded Hojo return her body, all the man did was grin and assure Gast he was taking this all too seriously – an astonishing statement from the odious man. But the body was gone; a trail of purple ichor leading deeper into a vent. The dead Jenova had life in her yet. And Hojo had let her loose inside the labs. A strange and unprecedented event wholly against expectations. Her cells were still viable and to a certain extent lived. But for the excavated body to be capable of independent action? A whole terrifying new reality. And worse, only the start of the new problems. The lockdown had sealed the lab and left them with approximately forty-eight hours of usable air. Any contaminant or escaped sample needed to be confined before the time limit passed or they were all dead. Should have thrown Hojo into a store cupboard or something, but far too late to worry about the earlier possibilities. He helped Gast trace the duct-work, figure out where Jenova could have plausibly gone. The search lead them quickly to the lab of Doctor Russell; his body and something almost him. The second Russell stared at Gast, his eyes cat-like slits. The figure before them was recognisably Russell – above the neckline. The second Russell’s right arm and both legs looked normal in the circumstances.  The rest was a nightmarish amalgam of flesh and cloth; the purple associated with Jenova’s skin meshing with chitinous hide merging seamlessly with scales before transforming into human skin and cloth. All of it stretched from an open vent. Gast gaped, Hojo reacting quicker, stepping forward to fire a pistol into the second Russell’s head. The blast echoed around the lab; Gast winced at the noise, sound blotted out. But the second Russell did not fall, did not crumple. Instead he took a few awkward steps back, hideous gaze now fixed on Hojo. With a snarl Hojo fired again to little effect, the noise coming more distantly. The conjoined Jenova-Russell was not fazed by damage to its head. “Shoot the vent.” Gast muttered, his voice strange and distant. Hojo retorted; the response lost in the ringing of his ears and likely it concerned more about the specimen’s health. An odd concern given his seeming prank with the body. Russell – unfazed by the repeated gunshots – raised a hand and staggered towards Hojo. With hideous swiftness the discordant parts of his form were shifting to the familiar. Soon there would be little external indication he was anything but Russell. Gast grabbed for something, anything. Something usable as a club, some kind of shield- Nothing here but chemicals. Chemicals! He fumbled for a beaker of ethanol and threw it towards Russell. Fire, fire- He patted his pockets. Keys, used tissue, lighter- A milestone birthday gift, but of no importance. He flicked it open, the wheel suddenly difficult. Russell was too close, Hojo fumbling to reload his gun- The flame caught and Gast hurled it at Russell. The fire caught immediately, his clothing catching alight. His mouth yawned open impossibly wide, an inhuman shriek erupting from Russell’s throat. Something thumped and banged and wailed in the vents. Russell collapsed, the flames eating away at him, his form breaking down, shifting away from the recognisable into something other. Wait- The fire alarm blared, the sprinklers raining down onto the scene. Russell convulsed once more and mercifully lay still. “They’re connected somehow. Reunion.” Hojo was grinning, staring into the vent and paying no heed to the sprinklers. Gast grabbed his arm; Hojo whirled, gun raised. About ready to shoot him. “We have to test everyone. Find out if anyone else is infected.” Hojo took a worrisome long moment to nod at the aperture the Jenova body had vanished back inside. “Not the only way out of there.” He shook his head. “Not a huge risk; the bodies will give them away.” “Assuming we find them.” Gast shook his head, futilely trying to dislodge the ringing. “And that it isn’t capable of more.” All the rules were gone now Jenova was conscious. Could she be contained? Could she be destroyed now?

#ffviihalloween #final fantasy vii #ffvii #final fantasy #final fantasy 7 #my ffvii fanfic

[once-upon-a-scenario]

Icarus: Bakugou/reader, Part 6 (Interlude: Family)

Part 1

Part 5 (Reupload because tumblr hates me! Also EDIT: took out a part that wasn’t meant to make it to the final cut lol) Post-Kamino, Shouta and Toshinori meet their students’ parents. Amongst them is the Bakugou family, and then there is your father. (In which Shouta learns some concerning things about the reader, and Toshinori wonders.) Warnings: implied neglect, emotional abuse, and unhealthy relationships. Just to make sure everybody’s aware, these will be recurring themes throughout the rest of this series and will probably get more severe in later chapters. (Should I create a taglist for this??? I dunno if anybody’s properly following the series, but a list does seem like it could make things more convenient...  Also I just recently realized that I literally don’t have to link every single previous part?? I love having one (1) braincell haha -Eve) 

____ ”I have no objections to dorms- you may do as you please.” Coming from a man who could have lost his only child barely weeks prior to the fact, the words sound uncomfortably nonchalant.  ”...I’m glad to hear that.”

Shouta has never fancied himself an incredibly warm or welcoming person. He’s had many a student complain about his attitude and coolly ignored every single one of those complaints. Yet at the same time, he’s always made an effort to be present- to know what should be known about his students, so that he’s aware of how to treat them, of how to help them live up to their fullest potential. That is, after all, the role of a teacher. Not necessarily to be nice, but to be helpful. However, as he looks around the living room, All Might sitting stiffly at his side, he begins to second guess himself.

Something about the place strikes him as odd. It’s too bare, too clean, no stray items lying about, no clues as to the preferences of the people who live in it. The Jiro household was full of colorful vintage posters and musical instruments, all lovingly arranged for the benefit of the viewers. The Koda apartment was full of terrariums and birdsong. He’s always known that you’re not a particularly expressive type, that you choose to blend in rather than stand out, and perhaps it makes sense that your father would be the same- but this place barely looks lived in, and it sets him on edge. Then, of course, there’s the host. It’s rare to meet a former colleague on these terms. Saber doesn’t look too different from how he did in his glory days- he’s still a large, straight-backed man, with a stern mouth and piercing eyes that never seem to lose their icy composure. It was this self-assured, powerful presence that earned him the popularity he held as a pro, right up until the incident that cost him his combat ability and his wife.

How, Shouta wonders, would a man like this go about raising a child? Because there you are, sitting next to your father, a conspicuous space between the two of you. Your mouth is fixed into a curve of practiced calm, and Shouta is abruptly reminded of a habit of yours that’s always concerned him- your quickness to smile with zero sincerity at the drop of the hat, as if happiness is something you need to prove to everyone around you.

As he glances at Saber’s face and his thin-lipped expression of politeness, he wonders if it isn’t a learned behavior. “Well!” All Might’s voice is a little too loud in the cool atmosphere that permeates the apartment; he fumbles with his cast as he gestures awkwardly. “I’m glad to see all our students recovering so well from this incident. It was a highly traumatic one, after all, and I- we- were all very worried.” You shift, opening your mouth as if to say something, but your father beats you to it, glancing from All Might to Shouta with that same thin-lipped, strained civility. “Thank you for your concern, All Might. But there’s no need to worry...I’m sure the promising young heroes of U.A are handling this just fine. And as for the child, neither you nor Eraserhead here should concern yourselves too much over what is unfixable.” Unfixable? Interesting word choice to describe your only child. Shouta watches Saber as he suddenly straightens and rises from his seat, seemingly unbothered by the attention and paying no mind to you; you return the favor, sitting still and stiff with your gaze fixed firmly on the coffee table. There’s nothing in your face to suggest that you’ve just been subjected to your own father calling you a lost cause in front of your teachers, and the very lack of emotion is...off-putting. Typical of you, but there are several reasons Shouta can now think of to explain why and how this became typical behavior. “Well then, I must be going. A good day to you, Eraser. And All Might- my...condolences for what happened in Kamino.” With a final, nonchalant nod of farewell, he leaves the room, leaving you, Shouta, and All Might in awkward silence.  ___ I’m sorry. You see them to the front door after Saber leaves. My father doesn’t mean to be rude. ”There’s nothing to apologize for!” All Might beams at you; he’s a much better actor than anyone gives him credit for, Aizawa reflects. The brightness of his expression looks almost genuine. “Please, don’t worry yourself. Isn’t that right, Aizawa-kun?” Aizawa looks at you. Your smile’s been turned back on, an answering gesture to All Might’s attempt at comfort, but your eyes are still dull and dead. ”All Might’s right,” he says, swallowing down the thousands of other things he might say, questions about what happens behind closed doors, whether you’ll be alright, how long you’ve been suffering in silence. “Take care of yourself. You’re a smart kid- I’m glad your father’s allowing you to come back to U.A.” You bow low as they exit the house; low enough to hide your face.  ____ ”I didn’t expect this,” All Might admits quietly, later on, when they’re sitting in the back of a taxi and headed towards the next house. “I knew...well. I knew I was far from understanding all of the students as well I should, but this...” He looks to Shouta, worry lines deep about his pursed lips. “Did you ever...suspect anything, Aizawa-kun?” Shouta looks down at his lap. “No. I don’t think I did.” (To tell the truth, he wonders if it would have made a difference, if he had known before- because he knows now, and he has no idea where to start.)  _____ The Bakugou household is an experience. As Toshinori makes to leave, Bakugou stops him, calling out abruptly from his place on the carefully-kept lawn of his house. “By the way,” The boy seems to hesitate- a look Toshinori’s never seen on him before, but then again, almost everything that’s happened since the events at Kamino has been a series of firsts. Has he been to your house, yet? Ah. Toshinori pauses. Though he can’t imagine the motivation behind it, the question is innocent enough. But how to answer it? (He remembers the momentary flash of unhappiness in your eyes as you bid him and Aizawa farewell. What was it Saber said? Unfixable?) He closes his eyes and inhales a short, tired breath. He doesn’t want to lie to the boy; not right now, not two times in a row. Bakugou’s attitude is a source of concern for everybody who teaches him, but at the end of the day, he’s a child and a student and Toshinori regrets, often, that more hasn’t been done for him yet; something to lead him down the right path before his pride and anger cause him to stray too far from it. However, this isn’t a secret he can tell. Not yet. So- You seemed to be doing quite well. He throws in a smile for good measure to sell the lie, desperately ignoring the discomfort creeping slowly down his spine as he turns to where Aizawa is waiting with their taxi. “Don’t worry, young Bakugou. I’m sure the rest of your classmates are all safe and sound.”  ____  All Might was probably lying. Katsuki knows this; he ponders over it as he sits on his bedroom floor, textbooks piled up neatly around him. No fucker in U.A will have the privilege of beating him when he gets back to school, but for a moment, he sits and reflects. He’s going to get to the bottom of this sooner or later. At the very least, he’ll spar you again once school starts.

#BNHA #Bakugou Katsuki #Bakugou #Bakugou x reader #Bakugou Katsuki x reader #Bakugou x you #Bakugou x y/n #Bakugou Katsuki x you #Katsuki Bakugou x reader #Aizawa Shouta #All Might #gender neutral reader #scenario #Mod Eve #tw: abuse

[ollieologys]

summertime (with you) | p. parker | prologue.

SUMMARY; In Queens, things have finally calmed down for Peter Parker - he’s more than content with the way life is going. In Brooklyn, Y/N struggles with her own identity. Out of nowhere, Spider-Man dies, and Y/N begins to stick to things. (into the spider-verse/multi-verse au)

PAIRING; peter parker x spider-woman!reader

WORDS; 2k

WARNING; mentions of death

BEING Spider-Man was never easy.

Those who knew the story knew the story. Those who didn’t have no idea. No matter what anyone knew, everyone was sure that Spider-Man protected New York no matter the cost. Peter Parker knew that, too.

Of course, he still was simply the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man and kept a mask on. He still went to school every weekday and even had a curfew (to which he broke constantly). Peter had some crushes here and there, never acted on them though - too nervous and he knew he wanted to focus on his duty. He tried his best to be engaged with his life, though. Ned was still frequently found on his bed with scattered legos waiting to be pieced together.

Things were going relatively well for Peter. It was safe to say that he was happy. He even had personal contact with Mr. Stark now.

At the end of the day just before the weekend, Peter stuffed his unneeded books into his locker and slammed it shut.

“Are you going to see Tony Stark today?” Peter jumped and turned.

“Dude,” Peter started, glaring at Ned. “Don’t scare me like that.” Peter glanced around, but no one had seemed to overhear what Ned said. Not that it really mattered, he still had the whole “Stark Internship” scheme going.

Ned laughed nonetheless. “Sorry. I thought your, um, senses would have let you know I was here!” Peter shook his head, adjusted his backpack strap, and walked out of Midtown High with Ned beside him.

“Anyways, are you going to?” He asked again.

“I think so. Happy said he would meet me at my place after school.”

“Peter, that’s literally so cool. You have a chauffeur. Just remember me when you finally become famous.” Ned gushed. Peter smiled softly at his friend. He had no plans of telling the world his true identity anytime soon, and he certainly did not see Happy as anything close to a chauffeur. Even so, Peter felt pride flow through his chest. It was really cool that he was Spider-Man. Super cool, if you asked him.

Ned stopped walking when they reached the downward stairs into the subway. “I’ll catch you later. Betty and I are gonna go grab lunch in Manhattan.” Peter tilted his head to the side.

“I thought you guys broke up?” He questioned.

“Yeah, but she and I are still friends. Anyways, you’re gonna be late.” Ned stepped forward, and he and Peter exchanged their personalized handshake. As Ned disappeared down the stairs, Peter waved and put his earbuds in his ears. He walked with a skip in his step, a small yet genuine smile forming on his lips. Not only was he excited to see Mr. Stark, but he had a good day. He aced his Pre-Calc test, and they served his favorite school lunch. Even standing on the crowded bus, he felt happy.

His keys jangled as he struggled to find the right one. He noticed Happy’s car out front, but he needed to freshen up before he left. As he opened the door, he saw his Aunt May chatting with Happy.

“Oh, hey Peter,” May said. “Hungry?” She asked. Peter shook his head no.

“Hey, kid,” Happy greeted him with a wave. Peter nodded and looked between the two adults, suspicious as to their “summer-fling” as it wasn’t even Summer just yet. “Hey, Happy. I’ll be ready to go in just a sec.”

Peter headed into his room and fell backward onto his bed, thinking as to what he needed before he left to go to the compound for the weekend. As soon as he got his thoughts together, he packed his toothbrush, toothpaste, clothes, laptop (that he was gifted for his birthday by Mr. Stark), and of course, his suit. Not long after, he said farewell to May and hopped in the backseat of Happy’s car.

They didn’t make much conversation, though it wasn’t awkward. Peter looked out the window and listened to his music. Happy did the same, though his music was fainter.

When they arrived at the compound, Peter smiled to himself. He never failed to be impressed whenever he was in the presence of anything related to the real Avengers. Seeing them all in one place made him feel a different sense of familiarity and family that Peter cherished deeply.

Happy parked the car, and they walked inside together. Mr. Stark was kind enough the greet them at the door.

“Kid! Good to see you, how you been, huh?” His arm draped over Peter’s shoulder, and he couldn’t help but stutter while his eyes shied away. “I’ve been good, Mr. Stark,” Peter answered. Happy trailed behind, eventually breaking off to place Peter’s bags in the room designated for him.

“Good,” Tony responded. He looked to be enjoying his time, too. He was wearing his signature suit, but also had his high-tech, multi-billion-dollar sunglasses on. Peter wondered what compelled him to continuously create. “We got work to do,” Tony said, leading Peter into the elevator after waving at Betty, the receptionist.

“You’ll be staying next to Vision, alright. You won’t mind. He’s really working hard on not going through walls that are bedrooms. You can do some training - if you’d like, but we’re for sure gonna work on that little Spider-Man suit of yours.” Peter simply nodded as Tony waved his hands around as he spoke. When the doors opened, Peter was created to what seemed like the living space of the compound. Though he’s met them all before, this was really the first time he was staying with them all as though they were one big, happy family.

Tony grabbed the attention of all the Avengers. They all greeted Peter kindly. He knew they viewed him just as the kid he was, and appreciated the protection he gave the city of New York. Despite being relatively comfortable, Peter fumbled over his words as he greeted everyone. Steve just laughed and went back to reading his newspaper, and the rest didn’t pay much mind to his nervous attitude.

“Well!” Tony started as he looked at Peter, “I’ll catch you in my lab in say, ten minutes? Let you unpack and everything?” Peter nodded quietly and smiled as Tony gave him one last pat on the shoulder before walking off and saying something to Friday.

For the day, Peter spent the majority of his time with Mr. Stark. They listened to music they both enjoyed and tested out new prototypes for his new suit. Peter loved every second. He never thought he’d feel this connection once his Uncle Ben died, but Peter was grateful that he was wrong. At the end of the day, the Avengers joined together to have a meal and discuss amongst each other. By then, Peter had warmed up once more and laughed as Mr. Stark made jokes, and the rest of the team responded. Yes, he was most certainly happy.

After dinner, Mr. Stark wanted Peter to try out the changes in his suit.

“You go ahead and get changed and then go hang out in the living room. I’m gonna go grab some stuff from my lab.” Tony closed the door to Peter’s room, his footsteps fading. Peter looked around the room. It was somewhat bland, but Mr. Stark said that Peter could decorate however he wanted. He wasn’t planning on asking Mr. Stark to buy anything for him, of course. But he did plan on bringing in some of his Star Wars posters and other things of his. Peter shook his head and attempted to regain his focus. He stripped down to just his boxers and slipped on his suit. Though baggy at first, he pressed the center spider, and the suit lost all bagginess - hugging his form so that it became a spandex-like material.

When Peter entered the living room, he was alone. His phone buzzed, and he looked at the message. Ned texted him. “Send me cool pictures of the Avengers base!” it read. Peter laughed, sent him an eye-rolling emoji jokingly, and put his phone away. He looked back up at the tall, wide windows. It was dark outside. He looked at the clock and saw that it was just past nine. He took in the view of the sky. Clear and scattered with stars, he inhaled the sight. After all, it wasn’t every day he saw constellations and stars brighter than city lights. The city was much too polluted for that.

“Pretty, right?” Peter jumped and turned. He felt a sense of deja vu from earlier. Nonetheless, he nodded and walked towards Mr. Stark. “Yeah. Sucks we can’t see it in the city.” Tony shrugged. “It’s the little things that you don’t always have that make you love it so much more.” Peter smiled and agreed. “Yeah, you’re right, Mr. Stark.”

Tony smiled back. It was quiet for a moment. Peter opened his mouth to speak until suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His eyes widened. Tony seemed oblivious, though. “What is it, kid?” He asked. Peter didn’t answer, but his senses were tingling. No, they were spazzing.

Tony, realized the dexterity of Peter’s anxiety, stepped forward. Suddenly, the floor began to rumble. Peter crouched slightly, bending his knees, preparing to fight. There was no enemy, though. His senses told him to look up, and Tony followed suit. In the middle of the ceiling was what seemed to be a forming black hole. Literally a black hole. Shades of blue and purple poked out from the sides, and it appeared as though it were glitching - but the crater continued to expand.

“What is that?” Peter questioned, his voice reaching an octave higher in panic. Objects in the room began to levitate. “Peter!” Tony yelled. The couch, TV, TV stand, coffee table, and lamps were suddenly in the air - and so was Peter. He searched around in a panic, looking for anything to latch to. Tony reached out his hand, but Peter was scrambling, and no matter how hard Tony pulled, he wouldn’t come down. Tony himself was shaken to his core in fear. He had no idea what the hole was or where it came from, but he couldn’t lose Peter.

The vacuum of space pulled Peter faster. He shot his web-shooters in at the floor, trying to pull himself back to the ground. “Mr. Stark! I- I can’t pull myself - I can’t--!” He was cut off as he suddenly was sucked into the vacuum, his web snapping and his body vanishing.

The objects fell onto the floor, and Tony blinked with his mouth open in shock.

Meanwhile, Peter screamed as he felt his body misshaping itself. He opened his eyes for a split second and saw colors all around his glitching as though they were static. He had nothing to grab onto. It felt as though he were falling forward if that were even possible. Then, he felt his body, including his face, hit something hard - it felt like cement. He stopped screaming, his throat sore. He bounced between hitting the pavement and being in the air, but he couldn’t pull himself together quick enough to see where he could shoot his webs. Then, he slammed into a pole and stopped moving.

Peter groaned, slumped over for just a moment before trying to stand up properly. He rubbed his eyes. Looking down at himself, he was still in his Spider-Man suit. The new one, he and Mr. Stark, had been working on. Peter glanced around. Quickly, he realized he was in Manhattan. Times Square it seemed like. Only something felt different. He felt like he was in the wrong place. He was, to his knowledge. He was supposed to be in upstate New York at the Avengers Compound with Mr. Stark. Then, his eyes landed on the large monitor placed on the tall skyscraper. After seeing the screen, Peter was beyond confused.

On the monitor with a photo of what appeared to be Spider-Man, although it wasn’t Spider-Man. It was, but it couldn’t have been because he was Spider-Man. Next to the photo was a man similar-looking to Peter - yet he was blonde-haired and blue-eyed with a freshly growing back beard. Then, as he read the caption, Peter’s heart dropped.

“Peter Parker, also known as Spider-Man, dies at 26.”

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fics #avengers #avengers imagines #the avengers fics #the avengers x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland fics #tom holland one shots #into the spider verse #au #spiderman homecoming #spiderman one shots #series #marvel #mcu #summer #petey

[supremeuppityone]

Written for @klarosummerbingo Klarosummer Bingo Prompt: The Hamptons

Please review here.

Sequel can be found here.

           The ring was lovely — a simple band of delicate pink and cream, and as Klaus slipped it on Caroline’s finger, she realized that he’d carved it from the conch shell they’d found that first night they walked on the beach. Damn him.

           The blue button-down he wore brought out his eyes, and he’d rolled up the sleeves to reveal those impressive forearms. The first time she saw him, she thought he looked like he’d been sculpted from marble — and was just as cold. She had no idea that underneath that cocky exterior was such a tender, passionate heart. She looked at the world differently because of him.

           “Sweetheart, you and your sunshine heart took me by surprise; I never expected to feel this way. You showed me that I deserve something special,” he told her, his voice faltering a bit as he added, “something real.”

           She felt her lip tremble. Damn it — you can do this. Just keep it together. “Klaus, I...” she trailed off, her throat tight with unshed tears. She knew that what she told him would be her truth, but it also would be a lie. Instead, she surged forward, putting everything into the kiss that she was too afraid to say.

           She didn’t start crying until she went back to the beach house she shared with Katherine and Bonnie. 

Three months ago

           “Christ, it’s hot as balls out here,” Katherine muttered under her breath as she casually dabbed at the sweat along her temple.

           Caroline took a small sip of her Limoncello Collins, keeping her pleasant smile plastered on her face as she inwardly scoffed at the fact that the liquor in her cocktail cost more than her rent when she first got out on her own. But that was a long time ago. As she quietly took in the gorgeous gleam of diamonds, pearls and platinum adorning the elite residents of the Hamptons, she couldn’t help but smile at how easy this would be. “Do you see them yet,” she whispered to Bonnie, who leaned against the yacht’s railing, her sharp green eyes carefully studying the crowd on the lower deck.

           Before Bonnie could reply, Caroline caught sight of their targets. Achingly beautiful, enigmatic, and fabulously wealthy — the Mikaelson brothers had caused quite the stir when they arrived in the Hamptons. Klaus, Elijah and Kol were the first marks she and her friends had targeted that actually lived up to their hype. From their careful research, they knew the brothers came from old money, their family rumored to have established powerful connections in numerous political circles — both stateside and globally.

           They were the culmination of everything Caroline and her friends had worked for — conning even a fraction of the Mikaelsons’ wealth would set them up for life — it was the final score they needed to secure their financial future. When she saw that dimpled smirk Klaus flashed at one of the servers, she did her best to ignore the strange fluttering sensation she experienced. “Dibs on Klaus,” she quickly muttered to Katherine and Bonnie, not caring that they both favored her with amused grins.

           Katherine shrugged, eyeing the impeccably tailored Isaia that Elijah was wearing, and shrugged with a naughty lilt to her voice as she said, “Who knows? Underneath that gorgeous suit might be a good time waiting to happen.”

           “Fine. I guess all that babysitting I did will come in handy with that one,” Bonnie grumbled as she nodded toward Kol, who had plucked two bottles of the Bollinger special reserve from the sterling buckets and was racing up a narrow ladder to the observation deck above.

           Targets acquired, the women scattered to start what they hoped to be the last con of their lives.  

           Caroline let out a wet sob, jarring her from her memories. She opened the door to the beach house, barely resisting the urge to throw her heels. Stupid, uncomfortable heels that she had to carefully measure each step she took to keep from wobbling because she hated wearing heels. She glanced down at her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles of the perfectly fitted floral sheath dress. She hated florals. And dresses.

           The man she’d accidentally fallen in love with didn’t even know that she preferred jeans with ragged holes in both knees and faded rock t-shirts. And she was sick of champagne that cost more than her first car. The rare vintages tasted like ashes now. She missed good old cheap beer — it had been ages since she’d had a Corona.

           “Well, you look like shit,” Katherine drawled, surprising her when she flicked on a small lamp in the foyer.

           Caroline wasn’t surprised by her friend’s tone — she’d grown increasingly bitchy as the summer months had passed. At first, Caroline and Bonnie assumed it was because she hated to feel tied down to one place and wanderlust had set in, but the more they discussed each other’s strategies with the brothers, the angrier she’d become. Wild, unpredictable Katherine miraculously had grown protective of the stuffy older brother. Caroline would laugh if it wasn’t so depressing. A grifter falling for her mark had tragedy written all over it.

           “And you’re still the same manipulative bitch who doesn’t think anyone will ever love her.”

           The brunette raised an eyebrow, replying dryly, “My, my, I haven’t seen you this rattled since the Donovan job. That sweet little cattle baron had you tied up in knots with guilt. Don’t tell me we’re dealing with that shit again.”

           “That’s not what this is,” Caroline replied with a low growl. She realized she’d been unconsciously toying with the ring Klaus had made for her, running her finger along the polished edge over and over. She recalled the warmth she heard in his voice, his expressive eyes that showed too many emotions for her to register.

           She angrily swiped at a stray tear as she said, “Don’t act like you don’t know what this is, Kat. Bonnie fumbled the Anchor con she tried to run on Kol the other night. We’ve watched her do it a hundred times without fail but she couldn’t even get through the first step. And you’re a complete bitch anytime we start pushing you to work your connection with Elijah.”

           Katherine froze, her beautiful features suddenly an ugly mask of fear and insecurity. “Goddamn it! We caught feelings.”

           The women shared an awkward, commiserating look, unsure of where to go from there.           

            Caroline was restless, finally tired of tossing and turning in her bed. She impulsively took a walk on the beach, heading away from the rows of gaudy mansions and toward the small fishing pier. Taking advantage of the low tide, she ducked underneath the worn planks, leaning against one of the mossy posts as she watched the waves lap at the shore.

           “This is bollocks, Nik!”

           She startled, realizing that was Kol’s voice she heard carry over the water. She peered into the dark, squinting at the familiar outline of Klaus and his younger brother.

           “Don’t tell me this is just another job for you,” Klaus replied angrily, “You got too close to Bonnie and Elijah’s all but forgotten the rest of the world exists thanks to Katherine.”

           Kol scoffed, “And Caroline? I saw that ring — don’t think I’m not aware of what that means to you.”

           Caroline’s heart thudded in her chest as she waited for Klaus’ reply. She didn’t fully understand what was going on, but she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

           After all, a grifter falling for her mark had tragedy written all over it.

#klarosummerbingo #supremeuppityone #uppity bitch fanfic #klaroline fanfic #klaroline #klaroline aesthetic #aesthetic #thanks for encouraging me to write a sequel!

[funkymysteriies]

peter scanavino, 37, cis male, he/him. 🗽 looks like that’s DOMINICK “SONNY” CARISI JR reporting for duty. they’re originally from STATEN ISLAND , NEW YORK , so i wonder if working as a DETECTIVE for THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT ever gets old. anyway, i heard that they’re OBSERVANT but also kind of ARGUMENTATIVE , which is why i guess they always remind me of MAKING TOO MUCH PASTA BUT EATING IT ANYWAY , THREE-PIECE SUITS , DOG-EARED BOOKS.

here he is ! the kid whose made the rounds most of nypd’s special victims units , mostly likely to end a business call with “ i love you ” , the one who runs like a baby giraffe , sonny !

→ 𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪.

dominick carisi jr was born into a big italian family in staten island , new york.

he’s the youngest of four , meaning he’s still his ma’s baby. even if he’s in his 30s.

from a young age , all he wanted was to be good. plain and simple. he wanted to do as he was told , to be nice , to be liked.

coming from a traditional , roman catholic household , to him , the epitome of goodness was the church. like all the boys in his extended family , he was an altar boy. for a while , he wanted to become a priest.

as a kid, he just wanted to have a lot of friends. he tried so hard. so hard that he ended up just kind of pushing people away , because he was a little over - eager. so his best friend was really his mom , who’d do anything to protect her son from any sort of heartbreak.

he was always a bit of a pushover. he was lanky , awkward , and eager to please. which meant that those kids who were bigger and stronger than him could take advantage of him easily.

on one occasion , he was bullied and pushed out of a window by another kid , and he didn’t do anything about it. he never told anyone ( and he regrets it to this day ).

high school came and went , he made a few friends , but none particularly close. he was generally liked , but over all just kind of average.

the dream of becoming a priest had died long ago , he wanted to be good , but priesthood came at much to high a cost. so what was another way he could help people around him ? be a friendly presence , protect his community ?

he decided to become a cop. he got his criminal justice degree , and joined the nypd.

he started as a patrol officer in staten island. he fumbled his way up to detective. homicide. he was dealing with some of the most gruesome crimes possible ( or so he thought at the time ). and yeah , they were horrible. but some cases just hit him harder. some cases just stuck with him , haunted him , shook him to his very core.

he realized he could do more to help. to do good.

so he transferred to staten island svu , but that still wasn’t enough. he’d always get frustrated when they investigated a case , handed it over to the a.d.a. , but then for some reason or another , justice wasn’t served. whenever a a perp he knew was guilty was acquitted , he felt helpless.

the solution ? become a lawyer. he started going to law school at night , using all that knowledge to become a better cop.

he didn’t last long in staten island svu , just about two months. he was never the most tactful , he was still a little too rough. he was a good detective , extremely observant , often picking up on details his colleagues missed. but working homicide meant he rarely got to work with live victims. victims who were often traumatized , who could be easily triggered , who needed a gentle hand guiding them through the process of an investigation.

sonny wasn’t really that person , and no one had the patience to work with him until he became that person. so they passed him along to brooklyn svu , where he worked for almost a month. that wasn’t a great fit either , so they chucked him over to queens svu , where he only lasted a week.

then , he made it to manhattan svu , where he started out a little rough , but that was the place where he finally reined in his impulses , learned how to be gentler.

he passed the bar exam in 2016 , and for a moment , he considered leaving svu to pursue a law career , become a prosecutor. but he felt like he could do more as a detective. so for the time being , he’s just a cop with more knowledge of the law than the average detective.

i’m pretty sure i’ve mentioned most of what’s on his wiki page , but just in case here !!

→ 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪.

that’s it , that’s all you need to know about him.

in all seriousness , all sonny really wants , is to do good. to be good. he wants to help people , he wants to be liked and loved.

that desire to be liked makes him a little pushy sometimes. he wants to help , but doesn’t realize when his help isn’t really wanted.

he tends to offer a lot of unsolicited advice , and is too oblivious sometimes to realize when it’s not really appreciated.

believes people are good at heart. and still struggles to wrap his head around some of the horrible crimes he’s witnessed.

he’s still a good catholic boy. he prays regularly , goes to mass , confesses his sins. he knows the catholic church is far from perfect , but what he believes in is greater than the church as an institution.

very much a momma’s boy. even though he lives in manhattan now , he still travels to visit his mom several times a week , and they talk on the phone every day.

he’s a great cook. he loves to cook big meals for all his friends , and shows up to work with baked goods on a regular basis.

he’s an avid reader. loves classic literature , and will reread his favorite books often.

big bisexual disaster !

loves memes !

sagittarius !

his pinterest board is over here !!

→ 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤.

anything , honestly.

coworkers , obviously. give me people who are sick and tired of sonny throwing around legalese and showing off his new fordham law knowledge. attorneys who just wish he would shut the fuck up.

friends , enemies , frenemies. he’ll make them lunch and pass on sage advice from momma carisi.

exes ! flings ! sonny has a tendency to fall hard and fast for people , and maybe read too much into a fling that was never meant to be more than just that. so he’s very open to flings.

absolutely anything. come at me pals.

#dd.intro #( sonny c. ) / * isms .