#i am thirty or forty years old and i do not need that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joontroverted · 27 days

Text

of course other women want your boyfriend

pairing: nanami kento x reader

tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.

"your dad's kinda hot."

the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.

you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.

no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.

and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.

"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.

her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"

you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.

"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"

"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.

"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.

that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain your standards.

"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"

"there you are, sweetheart."

kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.

nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.

almost.

"ken!" you breathe.

"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"

"hey!"

his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"

"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.

"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"

"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.

"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.

"sweetheart, i think- "

you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.

"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"

"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.

"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."

she gasps, and deep down you know you would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.

kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.

"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"

aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.

you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.

"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."

his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.

deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.

kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.

"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."

warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.

"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.

aiko!

you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"

aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.

DO NOT REPOST

yay first fic!!!

likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷

#nanami x reader #nanami #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami fluff #kento nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #yves tells you a story ✩🕯₊˚.📖⋆🌙⋆⁺₊✧

1K notes · View notes

desert-cruiser · 1 year

Text

I want to walk around at shows with a sign that says “I have better taste than these fuckin’ kids but I’m still 20 years behind please cut me some slack”

#i am thirty or forty years old and i do not need this

0 notes

chrzzboo · 3 months

Note

Lewis fic. Its his birthday y/n and him have an age gap. Not a crazy one but she teases him about his age.

My old man

Summary: It's Lewis's birthday, and you never fail to make him feel old on his special day.

Reader x Lewis Hamilton

Mention of age gap (10 years)

Note: First of all, I want to thank all of you for showing your love for my first-ever story on here. It means a lot!!! Also, I'm trying my best to write new stories based on your requests, but I'm currently in my exam period, so things might go slower. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this short fic!

It's currently 4 o'clock in the morning and Lewis is sound asleep next to me in bed. Why am I up so early already? Well it's my favourite human's birthday today and I want to make this day special for him. Knowing that Lewis always wakes up at around 6 o'clock for his early morning workouts made me get up early to decorate the house and get his favourites for his birthday.

I bought all the decorations last night and did a pretty good job at hiding it from Lewis. Starting by blowing up all the balloons and hanging them around the place followed by the rest of the decoration. If there is one thing that Lewis doesn't like, it's seeing his age on display. So that's exaclty what I did. I bought the numbers 39 in a big form and hung them on the most noticable place in the house to tease him even more.

After I was done with decorating the place I went out and went to the store to buy the last few things that were needed, thank God 24/7 hour stores are a thing otherwise I would've been fucked. While strolling along the aisles I can't help but find the perfect gift for Lewis. It was a dog shirt with the words 'Grandpa's favourite boy' displayed on it, promising myself to get Roscoe to wear it later. After getting the last things I went back home knowing that it was almost time for Lewis to wake up.

Putting everything on the counter i start to prepare his birthday breakfast with all his favourites in it. I still had plenty of time since I already wrapped his gifts yesterday, so in the meantime while I was making his breakfast I quickly took the dog shirt out for Roscoe to wear. He looked so adorable but I couldn't help but laugh at the shirt. I don't think Lewis would even be surprised since I've been teasing him about his age non stop.

While putting the last things on the table I felt two strong hands wrap around my waist. "Babe you went all out this year" Lewis exclaimed. "Well it's my favourite old man's birthday I had to make it special." I added. Lewis groans "Love are you seriously still making fun of me?" I gasped but it was quickly followed by my laugh. "I would never!" "I just wanted to celebrate you getting closer to the forties" Lewis groans again. "Babe seriously stop that I'm still in my thirties and that's what matters and also you're just 10 years younger then me your time will come as well" "Jeez Lewis you're making it sound as if I'm about to die or something but for now I'm happily enjoying my twenties" I say pecking his lips and leading him to the breakfast table.

"Babe there was no need to put those numbers up there" Lewis exclaimes. "Well you're an old man now I had to remind you before you forget" I say with a laugh. Lewis groans even more. "You're never letting it go are you?" "Ofcourse not old man!". "But babe on a serious note you didn't have to do all this" He said coming over to me and kissing me passionately. "But i wanted to since you deserve the world Lew" I tell him with a peck to his lips. "Thanks beautifull I love you!" He adds "And I love you too My old man. Soon the kiss turned into a makeout session when Lewis breaks the kiss and adds "Well after all this I would love for this birthday gift to be taken to the bedroom" Smirking I jump on to him with both my legs secured around his waist. But before we could go any further Roscoe pops up and starts barking for our attention. Lewis puts me down and both of our attention is on Roscoe. "Hey old guy, did you want to wish your dad a happy birthday as well?" Lewis says while scratching behind Roscoe's ears. But then Lewis freezes noticing the shirt I put on Roscoe earlier. He turns to me, but I was already out of sight, running for my life. "Y/N ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?"

The end.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine

356 notes · View notes

spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

Text

Death, Worthy of a Barbarian

Synopsis: Tiriel and Astarion had a good life together, and now it's time for her to go.

TW: Tav's death

Thanks @tragedybunny for beta-reading!

Tags: main character's death, Astarion mourns his wife.

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Tiriel raises up her face to the skies. Her legs are numb after a long walk in the mountain, and her throat burns with panting.

She feels a strong hand on her back - in case she falls down, Astarion will catch her.

"So, my sweet, what are we doing now?”

Tiriel smiles at her husband.

It's been 150 years since they met. 130 since they became parents to a wonderful dhampir woman they named Alethaine. Thirty - since they decided to become adventurers once again.

Astarion hasn’t changed a bit. Frozen in time, he looks the same as he did decades ago. Short silver curls, his roguish smile, pale skin, crimson eyes, still the most beautiful man she’s ever seen. And all hers.

Tiriel stopped aging at twenty-five. Her elven blood didn’t let her wither , but a year ago the human ancestry finally took a toll on her. Within a year the red hair got pale. Wrinkles covered the face. Tiriel was still strong enough to wield her ax and travel through the wilderness.But -

"Let me relax a bit." Tiriel sits on the ground. Astarion immediately kneels beside her the same way he did for all these one hundred and fifty years. "Don't look at me like that! I am not an old wreck."

He plants a kiss on her cheek. The winds howl like hungry wolves, and a group of warriors who joined them look scared.

All young humans, not older than forty. For them, Astarion and Tiriel are the relics of older times. People who remember Baldur's Gate before the ocean washed half of the city into the dark waters and who can tell about the Cult of Bhaal and many, many other things they witnessed.

"If you are a wreck, you are the most fierce and beautiful wreck this world has seen."

Tiriel touches Astarion's curls and he closes his eyes like a content cat. She wants to tell him a lot of things - that she is sorry they haven't found him a way to walk in the sun, that they haven't found his family... How much she loves him, her very own elven prince she saved from monsters.

Gods know she doesn't have much time left.

They've discussed it many times. Tiriel is mortal and though half-elves often live up to two centuries it's still not much in comparison with Astarion's immortality.

And he knows Tiriel doesn't want to die in bed, old and helpless. She is a warrior, with rage in her blood - she must die in a battle, fighting and killing the most ravenous monster Faerun has seen.

She is Tirirel the Barbarian of the Sunset Mountains, after all.But she is sometimes so weak, she can't lift her ax up for days.

"What do you think she's doing now?" Astarion suddenly says.

Tiriel doesn't need to ask who he talks about.Alethaine, their daughter.

Silver curls, dark eyes, a pair of fangs. She used to be a monster hunter - but sixty years ago she was invited to the court of the Grand Duchy of Shantal. "They prefer to have a dark witch of their own", Alethaine said, changing her light travel armor to a black dress of a noblewoman. She always had mannerisms of royalty and the life at the castle suited her more than sleeping in the dirt while hunting yet another monster.

"It's night, Astarion, she probably walks around the woods."

"Or reading"

"Maybe both at the same time"

Astarion laughs. "When we deal with that dragon, let's visit her. I understand we live so long that years mean little to us. But it's been a decade since we last saw our little princess."

"Our little princess is one hundred and thirty years old"

"Which makes her a young elven maiden. Though, of course, she would have been considered an adult among Tel’Quessira but still."

Tiriel touches Astarion's cheek. "Agreed. Once we get a reward, let's sail to the Border Kingdoms. I suppose the High Necromancer can offer her parents both a shelter and a job."

Astarion grabs Tiriel’s hand and kisses the knuckles.

"Beware! The beast is here!", a warrior yells, and a loud rumbling sound pierces the air.

Astarion prepares his bow and arrows - he will hide in shadows, somewhere he can distract the beast with annoying shots and small fireballs.

Meanwhile, Tiriel will rush ahead right into the beast's maw. To slaughter it like countless monsters she's killed in her life.

Starting with a wild bear she butchered at the age of fifteen.

Tiriel’s family never loved her. They even didn't bother to give her a name rather than calling the girl “a fairy bastard” and “a pixie”. As if it was her fault, a married woman who dared to call herself "mother", couldn't keep her legs shut.

Her siblings, all of whom are long dead, just pushed Tiriel down the cliff, hoping she would never come back. Tiriel still remembers pain, embarrassment, anger, and sorrow. Why? Why me? Why do they hate me?

And the sorrow transformed into rage. Her blood boiled and Tiriel cried out like an animal, like a wild beast attacking the bear with a small knife she had.

Rage.A skill of primal warriors, fury nothing can compare to. It gave Tiriel strength, faith, and bravery.

And ever since then, her blood boils the same way before the battle. When suddenly the two-handed ax gets as light as a wooden stick and the monster in front of Tiriel becomes just a pathetic animal

"I will go first!" Tiriel says to the warriors, lifting the ax.And suddenly it feels too heavy.

Pain pierces her body, from spine to legs, and Tiriel almost collapses to the ground.

Human ancestry dictates its rules.

You are old, Tiriel. You don't belong to the battlefield. You belong to a safe bed in a cozy home which will be your grave soon enough.

Pale hands grab Tiriel’s waist and help the woman to stand up. Astarion looks at Tiriel, with no smirk or tease in his eyes.

"IT'S HERE!"

The massive body of the beast lands, ready to burn down everything to the crisp. A dragon. A Death, worthy of a warrior.

Tiriel isn't scared. She smiles at Astarion and presses her wrinkled forehead to his."Astarion, tell the bards to make a song about me."

Whatever he answers drowns in the dragon's roar.Tiriel walks right to the beast. Then she runs.The blood boils with rage. The lungs burn. The adamantium ax feels as light as if it was made of hollow bones.

Tiriel has no complaints and no regrets.

She had everything she could ever wish for. A life full of heroic deeds. Friends to drink ale with. A family. A daughter to be proud of.A man to hold in arms.

She will be remembered. She will be loved.That's her own immortality.

Tiriel the Barbarian runs faster and faster, holding her weapon above her head.

"RAGE!!!"

***

It all ended in a blink of an eye. The dragon which spent its last minutes trying to get a shadow figure who dared to cast "ig-nis' ' now lies dead among the burning trees.It won't attack the city, and the people will spend the next days honoring the heroes who killed the dragon, not hiding from it.

Astarion jumps down on the ground."Tiriel! TIRIEL!!!"

No, she couldn't die. Not now. He needs her. He will always need her. And they agreed to visit Alethaine together, she must be alive!

Astarion waits. Waits to hear her voice, to see her. "It's just a scratch" she will tell him, visibly bleeding and he will carry her in his arms to a safe place.

Tell the bards to make a song about me.

What did he answer? What was his response?I love you.

Yes, that's what he told her. That is what he has been telling her for decades. Every day, these words never lost their meaning.

"Tiriel!" Astarion grabs a warrior's hand. "Damn, where is she?!"

"She... died."

Astarion pushes the man away and runs to the dragon's corpse. It's so hot it’s impossible to be there but blessed by his immortality Astarion barely feels the heat.

"Tiriel! Tiriel!"He keeps calling, hoping to hear the answer. She must have been wounded. Of course, fights aren’t easy for her anymore. She is getting older. But she still... She has time to spend with him.

Then he stumbles over something.

Astarion makes a step back and sees the plate of her armor, melted in the dragon fire.Red hot.

"I am sorry", one of the warriors says. "She just jumped into it like a fucking dragon slayer. She cracked the beast's skull in two and disappeared in the flames. We will remember her. She saved us."

Astarion drops to his knees still holding the piece of armor in his pale hands. He feels numb. Is he supposed to yell? To scream? To curse? What do people do when they lose their hearts?

He sits like that staring in the distance. He will never see Tiriel. He will never hold her warm hands. He will never talk to her. He won't spend hours motionless while Tiriel, sound asleep, clings to his cold body.

She will never kiss him. Or caress his elven ears.

He will never taste her blood, so divine and sweet.

He will never read to her, will never say how much he loves her just to see a smile on her face.

Tiriel made him feel redeemed, innocent, and alive. She brushed away his terrible past with a tender touch of her fingers. Now when he thinks about his scars, they don't hurt because he remembers Tiriel's kisses along his skin.

But it's over now.

Her mortal life came to an end. She died as she desired. In a fight. The bards will make a song about her. People will remember her.

"You need to go, it's almost sunrise", a young woman tries to make him stand but his legs don't obey.

"I-I... Need to tell... my daughter..." Astarion mutters.

Alethaine... She was attached to her mother. Ever since she was born. Always clinging to her like a kitten. Astarion remembers Alethaine crying - when she was six Tiriel was severely wounded and though she was all right the little Dhampir realized what mortality was for the first time.

Of course, that six-year-old girl is long gone. The woman he will have to talk to has a century's worth of life experience. But a mother is a mother. And Astarion will have to be strong when he meets the High Necromancer, Alethaine Ancunin.

Gods know, he doesn't want to deliver this news to her. But who will?

Astarion looks around trying to memorize the place which became a grave for his beloved.

He will grieve. He will mourn. Once his mind makes peace with what happened. He just doesn't know how to live without Tiriel. He started living at his grave 150 years ago, with her by his side. Her smile, her warmth, her kindness.

Which are all gone.

Astarion gives out a cry, pressing the melted plate to his chest.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea@micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx@astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion hurt #astarion fics #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #spacebarbarian fics #astarion angst #tiriel of the sunset mountains #tiriel the barbarian #astarion x tiriel #oc tav: tiriel

61 notes · View notes

lynzishell · 5 months

Text

Prev // Next

Transcript:

Dawn: You’re here. Atlas: I’m here. I’m so sorry, Dawn. Dawn: Me too. Dawn reaches over to rest a hand on his shoulder. Atlas covers her hand with his, and they sit like this for a while, not saying anything.

Phoenix: Have you seen these yet? Asher: Not really. I saw a couple on Atlas’ computer when he first got home, but that’s it. Phoenix: I assume he told you what happened up there… with Dawn? Asher: Yeah.

Phoenix: How is he doing? I’ve been meaning to check in, but – Asher: Oh, no, you have enough on your plate. He’s doing okay though. Not sleeping well, but otherwise, okay. Phoenix: Nightmares? [Asher nods] Phoenix: Yeah. I remember those nightmares. Asher: What do you mean those nightmares?

Atlas: Hey, do you remember when we were kids, and we learned that some twins had their own language? Dawn: Oh my god, yes, and we tried to make our own. Atlas: Except we just made these weird random sounds and pretended to understand each other. Dawn can’t help but laugh when Atlas tries to imitate their old “language”.

Dawn: Oh, and we would pass each other notes in our secret code. Atlas: [laughing] There’s no way anyone was cracking that code! Dawn: That’s because there was no code! We’d just write symbols on paper and pass them back and forth [laughing] and I put so much effort into each one! Atlas: I know! There’d be thirty or forty intricate symbols on a piece of paper, never the same one twice. It was impressive, actually. Dawn: We thought we were so clever.

Phoenix hears muffled laughter coming from the bedroom and smiles at Asher.

Phoenix: He’s always going to be better at that than me, isn’t he? Cheering her up. Asher: [shrugs] Probably. But you knew to call him, and that’s not nothing. Phoenix: Maybe I should’ve called sooner. Asher: Eh, we’re here now. How are you doing? Phoenix: [exhales loudly] I don’t even know. I’ve been so focused on her.

[Asher nods quietly]

Phoenix: It’s weird. It feels like there’s something missing now. I mean, we’d planned on having a kid eventually, but it always felt like an abstract, far away thing. Like something we’d talk about in a few years or more. But now. It’s all I can think about. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more. Is that crazy?

Asher: Definitely not.

Phoenix: And now I’m worried that this was all too much for her. What if she doesn’t want to try again? What if it never happens, even if we do try? I don’t know…

Phoenix: I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Asher: Sounds like you’ve been needing to talk to someone. I don’t mind listening. Phoenix: Thanks. Normally, I’d go talk to Aurelio, but I haven’t wanted to leave. She was really starting to fucking scare me. Asher: She’ll be okay. Phoenix: [clears his throat] I hope so.

Atlas: I kept one, y’know. Dawn: You did not! Atlas: I did. You had doodled all around the edges, and clearly spent a lot of time on it. I don’t know, something about it felt important, like I needed to keep it, so I did. Dawn: Oh, I bet I know which one it was. Atlas: Yeah? I’ve always wondered, what does it say?

Dawn: Hold on let me see if I can remember it… [thinking]… Okay I got it, ready? Atlas: Yep. Dawn: It says, ‘Today I am sad / As long as you’re my brother / My heart will be glad.’

[Both laughing]

Atlas: Stop! You wrote me a haiku? Dawn: I tried. I counted and recounted the syllables so many times. Atlas: Dawn, that is so sweet! I’m keeping it forever.

Dawn: Aw, I’m glad you’re here. Atlas: Me too. Asher’s here too, and we brought his dog. Do you want to come out and say hi? Dawn: Yeah, I’d like that. Can you stay for dinner? Atlas: Sure. Gimme a hug first though. I’ve missed you.

Atlas: Listen to me. Don’t start shutting people out again, okay? Dawn: I know. I didn’t mean to. I just… I couldn’t stand to see the pain I’ve caused him. Atlas: You didn’t cause anything; it wasn’t your fault. And he needs you now just as much as you need him. Dawn: … Is he angry? Atlas: No, he’s just worried.

Atlas: It’s okay if you need time to grieve, but you’ve gotta eat. You have to take care of yourself. Dawn: I will. Atlas: Promise me. Dawn: I promise.

#ts4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 story #sims 4 #sims 4 storytelling #sims 4 challenge #starsignchallenge #starsignlegacychallenge #gen1 aries #aries pt3 #phoenix realta #dawn stephens #atlas stephens #asher goode #jasper goode

68 notes · View notes

eddiemunsons80sbaby · 6 months

Text

Murder House

Pairing: EddiexReader

Summary: @munsonfire sent me a message with this idea a while ago. It sat for a bit and then I came across it again and realized this would be perfect for a Halloween one shot. Eddie and Reader have lost a bet to Steve and the terms were that the loser had to spend the night in the Creel house. Reader is not amused by this at all and scared out of her mind so Eddie finds a way to help her relax. Happy Halloween! Hope everyone is enjoying their spooky season just as much as our favorite metalhead would!

18+ Only Minors Go Away

“This is so stupid. I don’t know why I ever let you convince me into this stupid bet,” you muttered in annoyance, standing in front of the last place you would ever want to be, especially on Halloween.

“Oh come on.” Eddie’s arm came around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, his lips coasting over your ear as he whispered, “What better way to spend Halloween than at the murder house? You think the ghosts of old Victor Creel’s family are in there, just waiting to take their revenge?”

“Ugh!” You placed your hand on his chest, shoving him away. “You’re such an asshole! I should make you spend the night in there alone.”

“Nope, those were not the terms of the agreement. You both lost so you both have to stay. You agreed to it.”

You both turned to see Steve and Robin standing behind you. Steve stood, arms folded, an arrogant and pleased smile on his face for having been the winner of the dumb bet. Robin’s teeth clicked together as she cringed apologetically at you, arms held out to her sides, hating this for you but secretly pleased that it was you and not her who had to make it until sunrise inside the house where a man had mutilated his entire family.

“Thanks, Steve. I am well aware of the terms we set,” you ground out between clenched teeth, peeking over your shoulder at the house that loomed menacingly behind you.

Windows boarded over, paint peeling, the yard overgrown with weeds as it had sat vacant ever since that awful night almost thirty years ago, no one brave enough to inhabit the home where such evil had occurred. The house itself felt unsettled, a portal into a world of darkness and desolation, and you could almost feel the pain and the sadness that had once resided within those walls.

“Alright, well, we’ll be back to collect you in the morning,” Steve sang pleasantly. “That is, if there’s anything left to collect.” He let out a loud laugh as he turned and made his way to his car.

That had been part of the deal. Steve had dropped you off, not wanting the two of you to have a vehicle you could escape in if you wanted. Not that the two of you couldn’t walk. It wasn’t like Hawkins was New York City. It might take you a good forty-five minutes but you could make it back to Eddie’s trailer if you needed to. Steve was just being an ass, trying to make sure the two of you followed through.

“Sorry,” Robin sighed, rushing forward to give you a quick hug. “It’s just one night. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Yeah, right,” you murmured, watching your friends drive away, leaving you and Eddie standing on the walkway, staring up at the house that was framed in the last of the daylight, sun just beginning to set. Twelve hours, from sunset to sunrise. You could do this.

“Hey, we’re gonna be fine, sweetheart,” Eddie told you, his fingers locking with yours, the familiar feel of those chunky rings bringing you some comfort. “Besides, you got me.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes, “Oh, that’s reassuring.”

“Hey!”

“Let’s just get this over with,” you groaned, hiking your backpack over your shoulder before lifting your sleeping bag under your arm and stomping toward the house.

“Baby, come on!” Eddie huffed, grabbing his own stuff, his footsteps loud behind you as he raced to keep up. “I know you’re annoyed but it doesn’t change the fact that we have to do this.”

“We only have to do this Eddie because you agreed to that stupid bet in the first place!”

“What’d you expect me to do? My manly pride was on the line!”

“Jesus Christ. Steve bet you that you couldn’t drink four beers in a row and then beat him in four laps around the track! You know he’s in better shape than you. The man was in every goddamn sport imaginable in high school. What did you think was going to happen?”

“He might be better at sports but I am way better at drinking. I figured he’d collapse halfway through.”

“King Steve? Steve of the epic parties every weekend at his house where there was always a keg? You really didn’t think he could hold his own when it came to drinking?”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip, eyes squinting, that cute little scrunch happening with his nose but you couldn’t find anything cute right now. Because of him, you were now stuck staying in the goddamn murder house. You glared at the stained glass rose on the door as if it were to blame for all of this before you turned the knob and pushed it in.

The guys had removed all the plywood that covered the door earlier before Eddie had used his expert lockpick skills to get it open. You’d stood, anxiously watching, hoping some divine intervention would be on your side, would keep them from being able to get the door opened. But no, of course not. The universe hated you, laughed in your face, mocked you because now you would be doing the one thing you feared the most.

You’d avoided this house your whole life. Friends would think it was fun to bet each other to run up and just put a foot on the porch. They’d dart as quick as they could, laughing all the way back, infused with confidence at their glorious moment of triumph. You’d never partook, never cared to prove your bravery, never understood why anyone would want to.

The stories people told about that place were horrific. How could a husband and father do such things to his wife and children? Their limbs were snapped, eyes cut out of their head, jaws broken. Some people said he was possessed by Satan himself. Some people said he had a psychotic break after the horrible things he’d seen in the war. Some people said he was just a psycho like Michael Myers.

“Okay,” Eddie relented, following you inside the foyer, kicking the door shut behind you. “Maybe I was a bit hasty not to consider all of those things but I couldn’t just let him assume he could beat me. He was taunting me, baby. I couldn’t let that stand.”

“And you had to drag me down with you?” you sighed, swallowing hard as you walked past the stairs and caught sight of the dining room, the place where the wife had been found.

“Harrington included Buckley in the bet. I had to have a second. Besides, would you really want me to have to stay here all alone? What if I got scared? Who would hold me?”

“You could have managed.”

“Damn, that’s harsh, princess. I’ll hold you when you’re scared.”

“I wouldn’t be scared if it wasn’t for you. I wouldn’t be in this damn place if it wasn’t for you.”

Eddie stepped up beside you, a loud exclamation of excitement bursting from him, “Oh shit! This is where the wife was murdered, right? They found her on that table. This is so fucking cool.”

“Cool? Are you shitting me? Yeah, they found a woman whose husband tortured her on that table and they found his two little kids in the foyer we just walked through. A father murdering his children. That’s real cool, Eddie.”

He groaned in frustration as you turned, storming away from him and headed up the stairs. You didn’t really want to go any further into this nightmare but you also didn’t want to be standing where people had been killed and you definitely wanted to get away from him. Eddie and his stupid bets, stupid manly pride, stupid excitement over everything scary, haunted, or grotesque.

“Oh…” you breathed, stepping into what had to be Alice’s bedroom. The small bed still sat, beautiful wooden headboard with a floral design, the colors long faded, a small nightstand next to it. Sitting on the bed was a sad looking teddy bear, covered in dust, as if frozen in time, just waiting for his little girl to return.

You backed up. No, you couldn’t be in that room, definitely not that room. Your back bumped into something hard, something warm, something very much alive and a blood curdling scream clawed its way from your throat as you jumped and spun, fist ready to connect with whatever was about to cause you harm.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Eddie yelled, both hands held up in front of him. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just me, okay? It’s just me.”

“You absolute jerk!” you huffed, hand that had been prepared to swing now clutching your chest as you fought for breath. “Why would you sneak up on me in a haunted house?”

“I wasn’t sneaking, sweetheart, I swear. You must not have heard me. I just didn’t want you wandering around alone. Is…is that the girl’s room?” His eyes fell on the teddy bear. “Damn.”

“Yeah, you got anything to say about how sick or cool this is now?” you challenged, arms folding over your chest.

“No. Look, it is cool to be in a house that’s been a goddamn legend in this town. Everyone talks about the murder house. I love anything creepy. But no, I don’t think it was cool that some guy hurt his family, okay?” His hand came to your waist, pulling you into him. “Come on, baby. I don’t want to fight with you all night. I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I’m sorry I let my stupid ego get the better of me with Harrington. But we’re here now, so can we at least make the best of it? I mean, big house all to ourselves, just you and me…”

Then Eddie’s lips were on your neck, tongue tracing, teeth pulling in the skin just above your pulsepoint and you were quickly forgetting why you’d ever been mad at him in the first place. He was good at that, making you forget that he’d been an asshole. Eddie played dirty, using his masterful skills to get you to forgive him in the very best way possible.

Your eyes slipped closed, hand cradling the back of his head as those lips worked magic, igniting a fire over each inch of skin they touched. He pushed your jacket over your shoulders and it tumbled to the floor of the hallway with a soft swish. The shoulder of your top dragged down your arm and his mouth followed, worshiping each new bit of skin he exposed.

“Fuck, what room you want, baby?” he mumbled over your skin.

“Huh?” you managed through your haze, struggling to think beyond the way his lips were tenderly sucking the flesh of your collarbone.

“What room? Need to get you in a room…”

You pulled back from him, eyes wide, “No. I can’t…we can’t…not in any of their rooms, Eddie. Are you kidding me?”

“Okay, downstairs then.”

“No. Absolutely not. That’s where everybody died.”

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me,” he whined, taking your hand and placing over the obvious bulge in his jeans. “You feel what you do to me? It’s so painful. You don’t want me in pain, do you?”

“Oh, don’t try to guilt me into it. You’re not in that much pain, you big old baby.”

“Attic.”

“What?”

Eddie grabbed onto your hand, dragging you down the hall to a small door, opening it to reveal another set of stairs. Your eyes widened, heart pounding in your chest as he pulled you behind him, up the stairs.

“The attic? Seriously?” you squeaked. “The only thing worse than a basement in a creepy house is the attic in a creepy house.”

“Maybe but nobody died up here,” he stated, “at least that I know of.”

“What!?”

He chuckled, “Relax. I’m kidding. Nobody died up here, okay? Nothing bad happened up here. No one ever talks about the attic.”

The two of you reached the top of the stairs, your eyes darting around, searching for any signs of danger, anything that told you that you should run. Sheets were draped over objects, giving them a menacing look, as if anything could be under there just waiting to jump out and grab you. But if you didn’t want to be downstairs or upstairs, this was about the only option left.

“Eddie…” you began but you were silenced when his lips covered yours, swallowing whatever you were going to say, morphing it into a low moan.

His hands covered your hips as he began to walk, moving you, until your back hit the wall at the far end of the attic. His tongue licked its way into your mouth to war with your own. Your fingers plunged into his hair, tugging at it until he groaned, pulling at your lower lip with his teeth in a way that had you whimpering.

A rustling sound broke through your trance and you gasped, pulling back from him, eyes wide, searching for the source. Your fingers covered your bruised lips, frantic. Was someone up here? Had it been a mouse, a bat? None of those things sounded pleasant to you.

“Baby,” Eddie growled, finger and thumb gripping your chin, pulling your face back to his. “Nothing is here. It’s just an old house. Old houses make sounds.”

“But what if…”

“Shh,” he urged, tongue slipping over your jaw, down your neck. “I’m going to fuck the fear right out of you, baby. You won’t be able to think about anything else.” Hands roughly dragged your top down, exposing your breasts, locking your arms against your sides. “Just relax and let Eddie take care of everything.”

“Eddie,” you breathed when his warm wet mouth covered the fabric of your lace bra, his hand covering your other breast. As his tongue teased one nipple, his fingers teased the other and he came through on his promise because suddenly, you didn’t care where you were. You couldn’t hear anything but the moans and gasps from your own lips, the murmurs of satisfaction that Eddie made when he pulled the tender bud between his teeth and you cried out his name.

Eddie’s tongue trailed between your breasts, up the hollow of your throat, over your jaw. His lips smashed against yours roughly, all lips, tongue, and teeth as if he were trying to devour you. His hand slid into the front of your leggings, past your panties and he growled roughly as you inhaled the sound.

“So wet for me already. Spread your legs for me, baby.” You obeyed without question. “Good girl. Gonna make you feel so fucking good, baby. You love when I fuck that tight, little pussy, don’t you?”

You nodded, struggling as he slid one finger through your slick, teasing, his stroke far too gentle. Your hips rolled, needing more pressure, needing him to touch you, to fuck you with his fingers.

“Need to hear you, beautiful. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I want you to put your fingers inside me, Eddie, to touch my clit, to make me come…” you pleaded. “Please, baby.”

“Fuck, you make me so goddamn hard when you beg.” Two fingers pressed into your entrance as his thumb found your clit, pressing down and you groaned, the sound animalistic, a sound of pure relief. “That goddamn sound. I want to make you do it all the fucking time.” He curled those fingers, hitting that blissful place within you that had you screeching, back arching. “That feel good? Huh? You like that?”

“Yes…oh fuck…yes…” you groaned, wishing you had use of your arms so you could grab onto his shoulders and steady yourself. Your legs were quickly becoming useless beneath you.

“I got you, baby.” As if Eddie could read your mind, he stepped into you, pressing the length of his body against yours, keeping you pinned against the wall as he sent you to levels of pleasure you’d never known existed until you’d met him.

“Eddie, please don’t stop…” you whimpered as his thumb drew circles around your clit, his fingers opening and closing before he added a third, thrusting them along your spongy walls.

“So polite for me. Don’t worry, baby. I’m not going to stop, not until you’re squirting all over my fingers and screaming my name so loud that even the ghosts will be scared away.”

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, legs trembling, fists clenched so tightly at your sides that your nails were digging into the flesh of your palms. You were racing up that big hill on the roller coaster, just cresting the top, about to plunge over the side.

“Come for me, beautiful,” urged Eddie. “Let all the monsters, ghouls, and goblins know exactly who you belong to.”

“Eddie…I…oh…fuuuuck!”

Your back arched, breath catching in your throat as you shuddered, the force of your orgasm rocking your body. Eddie kept you pinned between him and the wall as he worked you through it, his movements slowing, more gentle as he felt you slowly coming down until your forehead collapsed against his shoulder.

“Baby, you look so fucking beautiful when you come,” he rasped against your ear, his hands gripping your hips once again before he spun you around, pressing your front flat against the window just to the left. His hands grabbed onto your leggings and panties, dragging them down your legs to your knees, effectively confining them just as your arms were in your top. “Need to see it again.”

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, of his zipper as it dragged down the front of his jeans, your center already pulsing with need all over again, your body never able to get enough of him. You could never fully be satisfied when it came to Eddie, craving him like a drug.

“Let’s give all the monsters a real show, huh, princess?”

Then his hips rocked toward you and his cock slid into you, bottoming out in one rough thrust. You moaned, cheek smashed against the dusty glass. One of Eddie’s hands held your hip, the other palming your lace covered breast, keeping you upright as he began to move, rocking into you again and again, hitting deeper each time until you felt like you could feel him everywhere.

“How does it feel, baby?”

“So good…”

“Just good?” he grunted. “We’ll have to fix that.”

His hand came around your throat, dragging you up until your back was pressed against his chest. He stepped forward and you gasped when your breasts smashed against the cool glass. Two of his fingers forced their way into your mouth.

“Make ‘em nice and wet for me, princess,” he ordered, a purr rumbling his chest when you did as you were told. “That’s it.”

His hand slid between your bodies, the other one pressing between your shoulder blades, bending your over once again until your cheek met the window. Those two fingers pressed against the tight little hole between your asscheeks and you groaned loudly as he teased first one and then both inside, matching the thrusting of his cock.

“Better than good now, baby?”

“Jesus…” you whimpered.

“No sweetheart, but I promise you’ll feel like you’ve ascended into heaven by the time I’m done with you.” He thrust, fingers and cock, completely filling you with him until you thought you were burst from the sensation of it. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight. So good, baby. You feel so fucking good, taking me so perfect like the good little slut you are.”

You were a whimpering mess at his words, loving when he degraded you but only in the bedroom. Eddie knew where the line was and he had never crossed it. What happened during sex was different than how you were with each other outside of that. It was that level of respect that allowed you to enjoy him getting rough and nasty.

“Come for me, baby. I know you want to. I can feel it. You love when I play with that tight little asshole, don’t you?”

“Yes…fuck…baby, I’m so close. I’m so…I…”

You screamed, walls pulsing around his cock. You felt him twitch within you and then he grunted, curses falling from his mouth, his free hand grabbing your shoulder as he thrust in hard, pumping you full of his release. You mewled softly as his legs bent, fingers leaving your body, the two of you sinking to the floor, collapsing next to each other.

“Jesus…fuck…” Eddie muttered, glancing over at you, still confined in your clothing. He chuckled. “Sorry, baby. Let me get that.” His hands grabbed onto your shirt, pulling it up so you had use of your arms again.

You reached down, pulling up your panties and underwear as Eddie slowly got his own situated. One arm flung over his head as the other one reached out for you, fingers beckoning you closer.

“Come here.”

You rolled, content to curl into the safety of your boyfriend. He hummed into your hair, lips pressing against your forehead. Your fingers played with those chestnut locks you loved so much.

“That was…holy shit,” you laughed, kissing just under his jaw.

“Yeah, holy shit about covers it. Did you want to sleep up here? I can grab our sleeping bags and bring everything up.”

“Yeah. I don’t know how much sleeping I’ll actually get done but I guess up here is better than down there.”

“Oh, I can easily occupy all night if you need,” he teased, rolling you on top of him, peppering your face with kisses until you were giggling. “So, am I forgiven?”

You sighed, “Yeah jackass. You’re forgiven.”

You both gasped, covering your eyes as bright light suddenly flooded the room. Turning your head, you saw it was a bulb hanging in the middle of the attic, burning brighter than any light you’d ever seen.

“What the…” Eddie murmured.

“Eddie…” you moaned and not for a good reason this time. This was not right. This was not…nobody had turned on that light. How was some bulb in a house no one had lived in for decades, a bulb that should have been burnt out long ago, suddenly lighting up the room like the midday sun.

With a shatter, the bulb exploded and you both screamed, Eddie’s body coming to cover yours, as the attic was plunged into darkness once more.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #eddie munson halloween #halloween #spooky season #happy halloween #spooky time #spooky smut #halloween smut #smut

88 notes · View notes

howlingday · 8 months

Text

Belladina Interviews

Oobleck: Right! Well then, why don't we start with a few questions for the parents?

Blake: (Thinking) Bartholomew Oobleck. Forty-seven years old. He has a doctorate in history as Beacon's history teacher and is housemaster of dormitory 7, Amber Hall. Regarded as intelligent, reliable, and open-minded. He's well-liked by his students, but is also known for speaking at a swift pace. The safest path to win his favor is with honest and straightforward answers.

Oobleck: I understand that this is your second wife. How did you meet your husband?

Blake: Straight to the point. It makes sense, since Beacon Academy is focused on family values.

Blake: My husband and I met by chance at the neighborhood tailor's shop. The same one where Beacon uniforms are made, in fact. It was the way he carried himself which first caught my eye. It was like he appeared out of nowhere. After the death of my first husband and being so busy caring for my daughter, I was hesitant to pursue a new relationship. But the more we talked, the more I realized I'd found a kindred spirit in him. I was touched by his kindness and how much he valued family. I knew he would be a wonderful father to my daughter.

Jaune: (Blushing)

Oobleck: I see. Same question, Mr. Belladina.

Jaune: Oh... Well... Blake is such a wonderful woman. And she's so good with children. She understood how difficult it was for me to be all by myself, and she welcomed me into her family.

Oobleck: Excellent to hear. Family is very important to us at Beacon.

Jacques: I see you're a man who must have low standards, Mr. Arc. Why else would you saddle yourself to a woman with a child? And a woman like her no less?

Goodwitch: Behave yourself, Master Schnee.

Blake: Jacques Schnee. Fourty-nine years old. A legacy hire, as his father-in-law was the headmaster, he is the business and economics professor and housemaster of dormitory two, Azure Hall. Greedy. Callous. His wife filed for divorce last month. His wife just won full custody of her children. In all of his previous interviews, his questions focused on directly disparaging the families of applicants. It's best to avoid provoking him.

Oobleck: On to the next question. May we ask why you have decided to apply for Beacon Academy?

Blake: For one reason, sir...

Blake: To get close enough to my target, Charlotte Malachite!.

Blake: The quality of the teaching staff at Beacon Academy is second to none. The instructors are cultured, knowledgeable, and talented. More importantly, I believe only the elite faculty of Beacon Academy can instill in our child the nobility and patriotism needed to stand amongst our country's elite.

Goodwitch: (Thinking) A most disciplined reply, Blake Belladina. I knew I saw something in you.

Glynda Goodwitch. ??? years old. Fitness Professor and housemistress of dormitory three, Lavender Hall. Personality: Elegant.

Oobleck: We would like to hear about Penny from the perspective of her parents. What would you consider to be her strengths and weaknesses?

Blake: Penny holds a deep and passionate curiosity. She is willing and eager to poke her nose into everything, sometimes to an extent that it could be considered as much of a strength as it is a weakness. And perhaps this is just a mother's bias, but I find her to be wise beyond her years.

Goodwitch: Wise? This girl here? Didn't she only earn thirty-one points on her entrance exam?

Penny: (Flinches)

Blake: In fact, she's so intuitive, I swear she can read my mind! Ha ha!

Penny: (Shivers)

Blake: But for a solid answer for weaknesses, I do wish she was less picky about her food.

Oobleck: Hm. And what do you see in her, Mr. Belladina, and how would you describe your parenting style towards her?

Jaune: Well, as we've already discussed, I am not her birth father. So I will admit that, at first, I may have spoiled her in my attempts to win her over. I had to learn how to be strict sometimes, for the sake of her future. I work hard to remember that.

Jaune: (Thinking) Just like we practiced.

Oobleck: Mrs. Belladina mentioned that your daughter can be picky. What sort of meals do you cook at home?

Jaune: M-Meals?! Oh, uh, I, uh... W-Well...

Blake: Actually, sir, I do most of the cooking. However, my husband is more than happy to help when I'm too busy.

Blake: Not that it's ever happened.

Jacques: You're kidding me. A husband who can't even cook? You need to work harder to be a better example for your daughter, sir!

Jaune: !!!

Blake: No one is perfect, sir. While my husband may not be the primary chef, he is incredibly neat and organized. The house is always spotless. And he is a most wonderful example for our daughter.

Jacques: That may be, but a man who can't even cook is hardly a good example for a child.

Blake: And who are you to-

Jaune: B-Blake, it's okay! He's right!

Blake: (Clenching her fist) He's right. Calm yourself, Nightshade. Why are you even upset? It's not like he's really your husband.

Jacques: (Thinking) Just a pair of lovebirds, eh? I could just puke. Well, I'll just keep pecking at those cracks and see what comes pouring out. If these smug plebians don't get rejected, then there is no justice in the world.

Penny: (Thinking) This man hates Mama and Papa! I need to do real good, or else...

Oobleck: Well, I think it's time we heard from your daughter.

Penny: Here we go...

Oobleck: Can you tell us who you are and where you live?

Penny: M-My name is Penny Pellapina. And I live in Vale... North. At 42 Space... Something. Mister sir!

Oobleck: And what do you like to do when you're not in school?

Blake: She knows this. These are all the questions we...

Penny: I like to watch at restaurants and eat the opera.

Blake: Huh?.

Oobleck: And what sorts of things do you want to accomplish while attending Beacon Academy?

Penny: Uh... Um...

Penny: What was the answer?.

Blake: Well, I know what I want to do while at Beacon Academy. Get close to Charlotte at a school event and expose the plans of the organization she leads. Then stop her before-

Penny: I want... to expose the secrets... of the boss... of the or-gun-eye-zay-shun.

Blake: WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY?!. The answer was to read all the books in the library!.

Penny: Oh, and library books.

Oobleck: "Boss of the organization"? Do you mean the headmaster?

Blake: Ah ha ha ha! Oh, excuse my daughter! She's very ambitious! She's so curious about the lives of the people who have achieved leadership positions.

Goodwitch: Hmmm... Seeking to learn from those at the top at such a young age... There is a degree of elegance to that.

Goodwitch: If that is true, then you mist know the name of our headmaster, young lady?

Penny: Um... It's, uh...

Blake: You know this! It's Headmaster Ozpin!.

Penny: Head pasture... All in. Mister sir.

Goodwitch: Eh... Close enough.

Goodwitch: And do you understand how hard one must work to succed as he has?

Penny: ...

Penny: Yeah! You gotta run through the jungle to get strong! And face life-or-death stuff over and over to get brave!

Blake: That was the training montage in yesterday's spy cartoon...

Goodwitch: Such incredible resolve! Perhaps I have underestimated this child.

Oobleck: Haha! Perhaps you needn't go that far. Now, I have questions for you about your parents. What does your mother do for a living?

Penny: She's a spy.

Blake: !

Penny: Spy... Spycial social work.

Oobleck: Are you alright, dear? You sound a bit congested. What about your father? What is he like?

Penny: He can be a little scary sometimes, but he's really nice!

Jaune: !

Oobleck: If you had to give your mother and father a score, what would it be?

Penny: 100 points! They're perfect and I love them. I want to be with them forever!

Jacques: Garbage like this is the last thing we need at Beacon.

Jacques: So, who do you like better? Your old daddy or your new daddy?

Oobleck: Master Schnee, that question isn't-

Jacques: Who cares? Are we who ask the questions not permitted to improvise and think outside the box?

Blake: May I request a different question?

Blake: I don't know how she ended up in that orphanage, but there's too good a chance her parents are...

Jacques: No. Answer the question or be scored accordingly.

Plip... Plip...

Penny: (Crying) D... D...

Blake: Penny...

Penny: (Sniffles, Wipes eyes) Daddy...

Jacques: Well, there you have it. She likes her real daddy more.

Jaune: (Comforting Penny) How dare you?!

Blake: Calm down, Jaune.

Jaune: But this is...

Blake: For the mission, we can endure this. We have to endure this.

Jacques: The dorms are full of children living away from their parents. This is no place for children who burst into tears over every little thing.

Blake: He can smear us all he likes. It doesn't matter. We're not a real family.

Jaune: "Every... little.. thing"? You think THAT is a "little thing"? (Fingers pop and crack)

Blake: Calm. Calm. Calm. It doesn't matter.

Jacques: What's your problem anyway, second husband? It's not my fault she doesn't love you.

Jacques: Ah, now that feels better. Hm?

Blake: (Swinging her leg for Jacques head) STAND DOWN, NIGHTSHADE!.

CRUNCH!

Jacques: (Stares at table split in perfect half)

Blake: (Removes her foot from the table, Reveals bug beneath) Forgive my behavior. There was a gnat buzzing around. (Turns) Thank you for your time.

Jacques: W-Where do you think you're going?! We're not finished!

Blake: If belittling the feelings of children is part of Beacon's educational philosophy, then I have clearly chosen the wrong school.

Jacques: HOW DARE YOU DISGRACE THE NAME OF BEACON ACADEMY!

Blake: Jaune. Penny. We're leaving now. (They walk ahead) Good day. (Slams door)

Jacques: YOU WILL NEVER SET FOOT IN BEACON ACADEMY AGAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME?!

Goodwitch: You went too far, Master Schnee.

Jacques: Oh? Are you questioning my methods, Goodwitch? I'd watch your attitude, if I were you. Big Nicholas may no longer be with us, but his name still holds a lot of weight around here. Send in the next family already!

Goodwitch: ...

???: (Memory) Those who beg and grovel at the feet of the powerful... They're such pitiful creatures, no?.

Goodwitch: ...She didn't disgrace the good name of Beacon Academy.

Jacques: Huh?

BAM!

Jacques: (Falls back, Unconscious)

Goodwitch: (Changes gloves) There. Handled with elegance. And with that, Mrs. Belladina, I think I can face you with the pride and dignity of a proper Beacon Academy educator.

#rwby #spy x family #knightshade #rwby au #blake belladonna #jaune arc #penny polendina #bartholomew oobleck #jacques schnee #glynda goodwitch

102 notes · View notes