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introvert--weeb · 3 years

Note

Hello! Hooe your having a nice day! So please hear me out! Can i request for Mikey, draken, mitsuya,nahoya, ran,rindou,hanma,and baji with a sweet s/o but have a brutal threat to someone with sweet smile and said " were enjoying our day... Can you please kindly fuck off before i lose my cool and chop your dick/rip your ovary? " when someone interrupt them in date by flirting with either of you

Gotta get some jealous vibes on this blog one way! I love this idea! I hope you don't mind that I edited the line a little for each scenario so I don't end up writing the exact same dialogue over and over again

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!!

Mikey, Draken, Mitsuya, Nahoya, Ran, Rindo, Hanma, Baji on a date that gets interrupted

TW: mentions of threats, language, jealousy, cringe-y insults that authour has made up based around the prompt :)

Mikey

It had all started off as a normal date between the two of you. Mikey had insisted that you both visit this new dessert cafe that had opened up not that long ago in Shibuya. He had been saving it as a date idea and resisted the urge to demand Draken to take him. It was torture for the sweet-tooth but it would be worth it when you both could experience it together.

You were as equally as excited as your boyfriend. It had been months since you were both able to just go on a date alone. After all, every other time someone who always show up and it would quickly devolve into a hang out session. Today though, Mikey had made sure to express how this time was just between you and anyone who dared interrupt will be dealt with. Sounds threatening but it mainly meant they would have to make it up to the two of you by buying bag loads of desserts for a week. Childish but effective.

It wasn't long until you were both seated at a table, one that was directly by the window. You couldn't believe how perfect this place was! The tables held a menu that was shaped as a crepe and even the napkins that were available had desserts printed along the surface. It was just so cute!

Nothing could do anything to ruin this date for you. You both ordered your favourite desserts (Mikey had to order something other than dorayaki and so simply ordered ice cream) and were now just waiting for the order to be brought over. All was well in the cafe.

That was until a girl around your age had approached the table. At first, you thought she might know Mikey or was maybe one of Emma's friends who simply wanted to say hi. However, that was quickly thrown out when she began to flirt with your boyfriend, twirling a strand of light brown hair around her finger. You simply watched, anger bubbling dangerously in your chest and you had to keep yourself from beating her ass. She must know you were there, after all, you were right beside her.

"Can you please stop flirting with my boyfriend?" You forced a dangerously sweet smile on your face. "We are enjoying our date. So please kindly fuck off before I rip your ovaries from your body," your tone didn't match your words. Every word was dripping in honey yet your eyes screamed 'murder'.

Mikey couldn't hold back his grin from how you threatened the girl. He knew you could be intimidating but this threat was something that amused him immensely. Rip her ovaries out? Over simply trying to flirt with him? Well, he sure couldn't get any more smug. You loved him that much, huh?

"Wow Y/N, never knew you could be so intimidating," the blond joked, amusement glinting in his dark irises. You simply blushed, feeling a little embarrassed but mainly proud of yourself.

The two of you continued on with your date as the waiter brought your desserts to the table. You couldn't have asked for a better day with your Mikey.

Draken

Draken had suggested that you both go to the beach for the day since the weather was so warm. You had packed a picnic for the two of you, wearing cute swimwear underneath a f/c t-shirt and shorts. Slipping on a pair of sandals, Ken had arrived not too long after and you were both off on your way to your destination.

You had both found the perfect spot and set up the towels. Draken simply threw his shirt off as he was already wearing his swim shorts, while you began to strip yourself of the outerwear. Your boyfriend couldn't stop staring once he realised how good you looked in the swimwear.

However, he wasn't the only one to notice and in fact, a group of boys had taken notice and were ogling at your now exposed figure. Draken nor yourself noticed and continued to enjoy your time together. After all, this was quite rare nowadays since Mikey would take up a lot of the blond's time. You didn't mind, it just made days like this extra special and much more enjoyable.

Ken had offered to grab the two of you drinks from the beach stall not too far from where you were situated. You were appreciative for the offer and asked your boyfriend to grab you your favourite cold beverage. He agreed before placing a soft kiss to your forehead, standing up to complete the errand.

It hadn't even been two minutes since the tall blond had left your side before one of the boys had approached you. If it wasn't for the cocky attitude that practically oozed out of him, you would have waved him off with a smile and an apology. In fact, you had tried. He just seemed to be incapable of taking no as an answer or accepting that you were with Draken and that's who you were going to remain with.

Speaking of Draken, he was beginning his way back to where you were, cold beverages in his hands. Everything seemed fine until he noticed the boy trying his hardest to flirt with his partner. No. He wasn't going to have that. And so your boyfriend began his march over to the towel, ready to smash his fists into this idiot's face once he had handed you your drink. However, as he got close enough, his anger and jealousy dissolved into pure amusement.

"Right, this obviously isn't getting through your stupidly thick skull," a heavy sigh indicated how annoyed you had become. "I am enjoying my date with my boyfriend and I really don't need you ruining it. Now, kindly fuck off back to wherever you crawled out from before I chop your dick off and ram it down your throat!" The smile that accompanied your words was too sweet for the threat. It was as if two personalities were clashing together in this one moment.

The boy, now scared for his own safety, was quick to scurry back to his friends. Draken watched before taking his rightful place at your side once again. Cold beverage now handed to you, he opened his own before taking a large mouthful. It cooled him down instantly and a breath of relief was released.

"So... About you threatening that boy..." Draken couldn't stop the smirk that tugged at his lips as your face instantly burned a bright pink. He was going to enjoy teasing you about this.

Mitsuya

The two of you were hanging out at the park with Luna and Mana. Takashi had invited you with him since the girls were asking about playing with you again. Ever since you both started dating, you had grown close to the two small girls, almost acting like an older sibling in some ways.

Luna and Mana were playing on the play equipment while you and Takashi were relaxing on a nearby bench, keeping an eye on the two young children. An arm around your shoulder as the two of you conversed about your weeks. You had a simple week so far; school and homework, while Mitsuya spoke about his Home Ec Club and the basics of his Toman life.

The date couldn't have been going any better, in your opinion. You were spending much needed time to unwind and be around the sweetest boy you knew. There was very little that could ruin this date, right? Well, Takashi had left the bench to make sure his sisters were entertained and safe. You had told the boy that you would watch over his jacket and bag, a soft smile directed in his direction before he went onto the playground.

Moments later and Takashi looked over towards where he had left you with his belongings. He was expecting to see you maybe scrolling through your phone or even looking over to watch the siblings. However, the sight that greeted him caused his blood to boil slightly and his jaw to clench. Some random boy had decided to begin flirting with you and it looked like you were quickly getting fed up with the advances. Telling Luna and Mana that he was going to check on you, he began to make his way back to you.

"C'mon beautiful! Just give me a chance!" Even his voice was starting to grate on Mitsuya's nerves. If he carried on, Takashi would not hesitate to teach him a lesson, even if it went against his more peaceful ways.

"Listen. For one, I don't know you nor do I wish to get to know you. Another thing, I have a boyfriend and we are currently on a date so he should be back soon. Finally, please fuck off before I rip off your nuts and use them to feed the damn squirrels!" You smiled softly at the boy, your eyes glinting with actual intent on carrying through with the threat. That was enough to scare the boy and for Mitsuya to chuckle to himself.

He understood how vicious you could get when you used your words. It was what had first got him to notice you after all. Internally, he was still seething at how the boy had tried to take what was his, but outwardly, the lilac-haired male gave you a soft smile and sat back down next to you.

Nahoya

Of course the two of you would be hanging out at the arcade. After all, you were both competitive and would settle disagreements with games. The current disagreement had came to be settled with a game of House of the Dead, a zombie shooting game. You would both take a turn and then whoever had gotten the furthest into the game would win this argument. Sure it was costing you more than if you were playing casually but this was your pride on the line here.

Currently, you were winning and Nahoya was refusing to back down. It got to the point where Smiley had dragged you away from the House of the Dead machine and decided this disagreement would be decided through the basketball hoop games. After all, he was much better at this than the shooting games. You just agreed, now enjoying the time you both were spending together as well as how desperate your boyfriend was becoming.

This had quickly evolved into a date, no matter how much Nahoya was insisting it was to settle the disagreement. In fact, he was enjoying himself and kept dragging you from one game to another. At this point, neither of you could remember the initial disagreement that started your trip to the arcade.

Collecting armfuls of tickets, your boyfriend had suggested you both head over to the prize counter to cash them in for a prize that you both could enjoy. And so you made your way to the counter where a girl a little older than you was stationed, looking bored out of her mind. That was until she had caught sight of Smiley. In an instant, she had gone from bored to cheerful and more than happy to help.

Nahoya had allowed you to choose the prize since, although he hated to admit it, the majority of the tickets were yours. However, your answer on what prize you wanted had fallen on deaf ears. In fact, this girl seemed too busy ogling at your boyfriend and trying to appear as appealing as she could. Not that Nahoya noticed.

You tried one more time only to be met with the same result. Part of you wanted to beat this girl's face yet the other part found yourself proud that you had been the one to get someone as desirable as Smiley. However, this was quickly dissolving into jealous anger as she reached across and 'accidentally' brushed against Nahoya's hand as she took the tickets he held. "Oops, sorry~!" Her voice was getting on your nerves along with those flirtatious giggles and glances.

"If you wish to keep your arms and ovaries where they belong, I recommend you stop flirting with my boyfriend and get the damn prize I have asked for twice. Please and thank you!"

Smiley was surprised at your actions. You never usually get so jealous. He noticed how you smiled at the girl, almost gritting your teeth behind the barrier of your closed lips. Nahoya couldn't help but find it so cute and savoured the moment. He was definitely going to be bragging to the boys later on about how badass you seemed right then.

The girl clicked her tongue before going off to collect what you had asked for. She must have been salty over the fact she couldn't continue to flaunt off her assets to Nahoya. What she didn't know though was that she was simply saving herself from your wrath. After all, you were not past dragging her outside to defend what was rightfully yours if she kept testing her luck.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side, babe!" Smiley joked, his usual grin growing. You simply rolled your eyes while agreeing with the peach-haired Kawata.

It wasn't long until you had your prize choice in your possession and the two of you continued what had quickly become a date. That meant a bike ride around Shibuya, heading to the local ramen shop that Smiley loved, and then back to either his or your house to watch a movie.

Ran

You would follow your boyfriend anywhere when you could spare the time. Currently, you were clinging to the taller Haitani's arm while Rindo was talking to his elder brother about some gang business. Although you were always around, you never did get involved in their conversation. After all, Ran had told you were too innocent and sweet to get involved in such a violent life. He did everything he could to protect you from his lifestyle.

Due to how intimidating Ran could look and act, you really didn't have to worry about girls trying to flirt with him, and guys knew who he was so there was no way they would risk it. And so you had no reason to be jealous. Ran however, he was constantly on edge in case someone decided to try and steal you away from him. But then he would remember that no-one would dare mess with the Haitani brothers and everything would be fine again.

"Babe? I just need to nip into the convenience store real quick." You pointed over to where the closest one was situated, remembering how you needed some odd bits of things. Your boyfriend simply nodded in acknowledgement, placed a quick peck on the top of your head before continuing his conversation with Rindo. Smiling over the affection, you quickly made your way to your destination. The quicker you got there, the sooner you could be back with Ran after all.

It was a pretty normal trip for you. You had collected all the items you needed, paid for them and started your way back to where your boyfriend and his brother were probably still waiting. Maybe they had finished the gang discussions and you could join in with whatever the next topic was! You sure hoped so since it was starting to get you down not being able to contribute to the conversation. It was as you stepped back onto the street that a boy had stopped you, a nervous yet confident look in his eyes.

Ran would occasionally shift his gaze from his younger brother towards the store you had entered. It was his way of making sure you were safe. After all, there were a lot of people in Roppongi that disliked the Haitani brothers due to their position. Anyone could decide to take out their grudge against him on you and he would not be having that.

It was one of the times when he glanced up that he had noticed the boy talking to you. Your facial expression was telling him that you were quickly losing patience and that something must be happening. Ran interrupted Rindo mid-sentence before trying to casually make his way over. After all, it could be nothing and he wasn't the one to jump to conclusions about a situation. However, he had a hard time keeping his anger in check once he heard the boy's flirting. It was just too bad the rod was left at home.

"You're either deaf or really stupid. I have said that I need to get back to my boyfriend. Now please, fuck off before I chop your dick off and turn your balls into fuckin' earrings," your expression was really sweet when you had uttered the threat. Your lips were curled into a soft smile while your eyes had shut to hide the murderous aura that would surely be seen within them. Maybe Ran was rubbing off on you too much. After all, you used to be such a sweet person who was unable to say boo to a goose. Now you were making threats that even had your boyfriend nervous.

The boy was quick to follow your advice, walking as fast as he could away from the area. You let out a deep sigh before moving your gaze to where Ran and Rindo would be situated. Instead, you were surprised to find the taller Haitani frozen in place not far from you.

"Hey baby! I got my things!" The hand carrying the bag lifted to display the items. Ran snapped out of this daze before giving you a soft smile. He would have to tell Rindo to not piss you off.

Rindo

Nobody would believe you but Rindo loved taking you to cafes that he would come across when he and his brother wandered the streets of Roppongi. It was more to make you happy but he really enjoyed these outings. He could spoil you with your favourite drink and dessert while it was a quiet space for you both to talk about your days. It was one of the only places where Rindo could get away from all the gang business. Here he was just Rindo Haitani, your boyfriend.

You both arrived at one of your favourite cafes, ready to start the first half of your date. Rindo had planned the day so you were unsure on what would occur but that just made it more exciting! Taking your usual table at the back, Rindo couldn't help but chuckle as he watched you scan the menu. He knew you would pick the same thing every time you visited and yet it was almost a ritual you had developed. Sit at the table, scan the menu, decide to have the same thing. He found this adorable and enjoyed the predictability of the situation. Made him feel like a normal middle-schooler for once.

It wasn't long until the waitress had come over to take your orders. You noticed how she must have been new since you had never seen her working here before. At least she wouldn't judge that you ordered the same thing, you thought. The exchange was starting well, she had taken your order with very little hassle which you appreciated. However, it turned sour when she turned her attention to your boyfriend. It was as if a switch was flicked within the waitress as she began to get a little too comfortable around the blond.

Small arm touches when pointing at something on the menu, leaning over so her cleavage was more pronounced, the flirty heart eyes and giggles. All of it was beginning to irk you. Surely she could discern for herself that this was a date. You really couldn't believe the nerve the girl had in doing what she was doing while you sat across from the scene. Thankfully, she had finally taken the order and went to grab the drinks and desserts.

"You OK babe?" Rindo noticed how your usual smile was tense and more forced in its appearance. It was concerning him since you were fine a moment ago. This poor boy didn't realise how much the waitress was flirting, if he even registered that there was flirting. It's not his fault really. He just hardly gets attention when they could simply flirt with his brother.

You didn't answer, just relaxed a little bit. You couldn't get mad at the blond in front of you. After all, he was clueless when it came to girls liking him. Really, you should have kept that in mind considering how long it took for you both to get together due to his obliviousness to that. Slowly your usual smile was reappearing and Rindo felt like he could relax again himself. That was until the waitress came back over.

"Here's your order, handsome! And a little something extra~!" The girl winked as she placed your boyfriend's drink and dessert in front of him. You had caught sight of a slip of paper and what appeared to be a lipstick kiss staining the surface. Oh hell no. This was not on. It was hurting your face by trying to maintain the sweet expression.

"Excuse me but can you not flirt with my boyfriend while I am sat right here?" Keep up the smile Y/N. "After all, we are on a date and before you decided to act like a desperate hooker, we were actually enjoying ourselves. So now that we have our order, can you please fuck off before I decide to rearrange your face and make it so you can't have children?"

Rindo's eyes were as wide as the plates that held the desserts. He didn't really know what to think at that moment. What had happened to his sweet Y/N? Where did you learn to threaten someone? What he wasn't realising was that he was rubbing off on you after all this time you spent together.

The waitress simply glared at you before storming off back to the counter. She must have seen just how serious you were being even though your face had remained as sweet as sugar throughout it. You were proud of yourself and turned your attention from the girl towards your dessert and drink. In excitement, you grabbed at the spoon and scooped some of the sweet dessert into your mouth like a small child would with ice cream. A happy hum left your body as you enjoyed your treat.

"You're scary, you know that right babe?"

"I'm just protecting what's mine, Rin."

Hanma

Hanma enjoyed having you around him most of the time. He loved how you made his days more fun, especially when it came to how jealous you would get. In fact, he thought it was probably one of the most amusing sights he had been blessed with. You were so sweet usually that it was a huge surprise to others when you got jealous.

That day, the lanky male had decided to take you to the amusement park, thinking it was the best way to spend his time away from Kisaki. It was also a good way to get you to cling to him as you were always nervous when it came to certain rides like the Ferris Wheel. You could handle rollercoasters and other rides, but once you were sat on the rickety bench of the Ferris Wheel, you would have to cling onto your boyfriend's arm in fear of falling out.

Just like most of the others, it was rare for you to get some alone time with Shuji anymore. After all, if he wasn't busy with Kisaki, he was busy with something else. But you knew he would show up at your bedroom window most nights to just say hi and get a kiss before he left again. It wasn't an ideal relationship but it worked for you two.

So when Hanma had text you about the date, you were quick to get yourself ready. You made sure that your outfit was super cute and dolled yourself up a little. Hanma would no doubt tease you about how much effort you put in for him but you knew he secretly loved it. You were his girl after all and he was a lucky man to have you on his arm.

The journey from your house to the amusement park was a pretty uneventful one. Hanma had picked you up on his bike but had decided he would follow the rules of the road. As unpredictable as ever. He parked up his bike and you both went to buy your tickets to start the date properly.

The day was spent like any other amusement park date people went on. You rode the rollercoasters and ate your fair share of snacks that you knew weren't good for you. Everything was perfect. Well, if you excluded having to hold Hanma back from beating up a boy that had tried flirting with you. That took some doing since an angry Hanma is a strong Hanma.

It was as the sun was starting to set that the incident occurred. A girl with long blond hair had decided that she would try her luck in getting THE Shuji Hanma. All while you were standing there, cuddling into his arm. At first, you tried being polite by making your presence known. If she knew he was already taken then she should lose interest and move on with her day. What wishful thinking, eh? Instead, it seemed to spur her on more, even commenting on how Shuji deserved a 'real woman' not a 'child'. That was the last straw.

"I don't know whether you are blind, stupid or have a fuckin death wish at this point." You let go of Hanma's arm and stepped towards the annoyance. "But as you could clearly see, Hanma is taken. Now, unless you want me to put you six feet under, I suggest you fuck off and leave my boyfriend alone."

Maybe it was the sweet smile that accompanied the threat but the girl was scared. You were obviously crazy, she thought as she rushed back over to her group of friends. She was probably lucky to only get off with the verbal threat. If she hadn't have left, you would have caused a lot of injuries to her. After all, you had to be strong enough to do that when Hanma was your boyfriend.

Speaking of Hanma, he had watched the whole exchange with an amused smirk on his face. This threat was tame compared to the others he had heard leave your mouth before. However, he was disappointed that the other girl ran off. He was hoping to see you make that threat a reality until he would have to stop you. However, he still got to see that cute angry pout that would always show up when you had calmed down.

"If only she had stuck around. Could have had some fun."

"Shut up beanpole."

Baji

Baji was the one who would mainly get jealous. After all, you were gorgeous and he felt he didn't deserve you. So when anyone paid a little too much attention to you than what he felt comfortable with, he would get annoyed and have to stop himself from getting violent.

You both had decided to hang out just the two of you for once. Chifuyu was busy working at the pet store after all so you could count that day as a date. Baji had his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you wandered the streets of Shibuya, entering stores that caught your attention.

The date was going well. Considering you both would usually have Chifuyu, and more recently Takemichi, joining you, it was nice to just have some time to be a couple without worrying about making the younger blonds feel like third and fourth wheels. That meant you couldn't really enjoy innocent physical contact like this without feeling guilty. So this was rare and you were enjoying it a lot.

"Hey sweetie, you want to go get some Peyoung Yakisoba?" Baji asked, starting to direct you towards the usual spot you would get the delicious dish. You weren't sure why he asked considering he knew the answer would be yes. So with a giggle, you snuggled into the boy's side with a grin.

Baji felt his heart skip about 10 beats at the sight. You were honestly too cute for him and moments like this proved it.

The walk was only a few minutes but you remained glued to the boy's side the entire way. It was your favourite spot to be. Baji had offered to go and order the noodles while you wait outside, something that you reluctantly agreed to. You only agreed since the noodle shop was so small that you couldn't realistically stick by your boyfriend. And so you sat on the bench not too far from the door.

Baji wanted to be quick, not entirely comfortable with you sitting alone. Usually Chifuyu would keep you company and that kept the boy calm but since he wasn't here, you were forced to be alone. And that didn't sit right with the 1st Division Captain.

You kept yourself entertained by scrolling through your phone but that was short-lived as a boy a little older than you turned up. Placing a smile on your face, you decided to hear out what the boy might want. After all, it could be as innocent of a request as asking for directions. However, you were a bit too naive in that regard.

Your boyfriend exited the building, the noodles in hand, when he saw the boy flirting with you. Anger bubbled almost instantly within his chest and he was about to march over and pummel this idiot into the ground. It was only what you said next that had him stop in his war path.

"As I have said about 14 times now, I have a loving boyfriend and if you think I'm going to leaving him for a limp dick like you, you're delusional. Now, fuck off before I chop your shrimp dick off and offer it to the restaurant to use in one of their dishes. Although there wouldn't be enough to use in even a kiddie's portion." You delivered the threat with your usual smile yet Baji could see that your eyes were sending daggers the boy's way.

Baji couldn't be more proud of you for how you threatened that idiot. It amused him so much that he couldn't prevent the laughter that erupted from him. The boy who had previously seemed filled with confidence, was now running off in fear that you would follow through with the threat. You just glanced over at your amazing boyfriend with a grin on your features.

"C'mon babe, we're heading home. I'm so proud of how you handled that though." Baji calmed his laughter before placing a kiss to your forehead. Arm wrapped around you, the two of you headed towards the apartment building Baji lived in.

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smells-like-mettaton · 3 years

Note

Perhaps #5 (Hold my Hand) with Papyton for the fic ask game if you are still doing it?

(I hope you're okay with me writing this as a sequel to one of my other papyton fics! This could still be read on its own, but it will make more sense if you read the first chapter. If you don't want to, just know that the part in italics at the beginning is from a fanfic that Alphys wrote.)

The Greatest Fanfiction of All: The Sequel

Rating: T Word Count: 1687 Read on AO3: here

---

Papyrus’s hands are warm. Of course they are. Theyre always covered in gloves. Not even Mettaton, his boyfriend of one month and thirteen days, knows what his bony phalanges look like beneath the plush red fabric.

But tonight, that's going to change.

xxx

Exactly one month and thirteen days had passed since Mettaton had read the beginning of Alphys’s “papyton” fanfiction. It also happened to be one month and thirteen days since Papyrus had agreed to be his boyfriend, sending him on a magical journey of love and romance.

That journey had given him plenty of new perspectives and discoveries. Yet the mystery of what lie under Papryus’s gloves was not one of them.

He sat next to Mettaton on their usual bench at the center of the hedge maze. The sky was dark with stormclouds, which kept any stray spectators away from the park. Papyrus was prepared, as usual; a tall MTT-Brand Umbrella leaned against his femur. Nothing and no one would ruin this moment.

Now Mettaton just needed to have the moment. Preferably without resorting to calling Alphys and Frisk again.

“METTATON? IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?” Papyrus asked, his browbone furrowing in concern.

Mettaton’s fingers were already laced through his; Mettaton rubbed his thumb against the back of Papyrus’s glove.

“Well. It is a very special day, darling.” Special enough that Mettaton had worn the outfit Papyrus loved most—a cropped shirt that said COOL ROBOT and galaxy-print leggings that hugged his metallic thighs. Papyrus himself had worn a bright Tetris shirt and shorts that exposed his gleaming femurs.

“IT IS?” Papyrus blinked. “IS THERE A SALE ON RIGATONI? BECAUSE I THOUGHT THAT STARTED NEXT WEEK.”

“Hm? Oh—not that I know of, but I will keep that in mind.” He imagined creating a pasta bouquet for Papyrus, and a smile graced his lips. “Today is the one month and thirteen day anniversary of our glamorous romance.”

“WOWIE! TIME FLIES WHEN YOU’RE DATING A HOT ROBOT!” Papyrus grinned, pressing his teeth to Mettaton’s cheek in a close approximation of a kiss. “HAPPY ONE MONTH AND THIRTEEN DAYS, METTATON! IS THERE A SPECIAL WAY YOU WANT TO CELEBRATE?”

It was perfect. Mettaton couldn’t have set it up better if he tried.

“Actually…” He turned Papyrus’s hand over, examining every seam and stitch in his crimson glove. “I was hoping to see your hands. I know they’re just as handsome as the rest of you.”

He winked, and a light blush spread across Papyrus’s cheekbones.

“MY HANDS? I’D GLOVE TO! BUT, ERM…” His fingers disentangled from Mettatons, instead fidgeting nervously with the hem of his right glove. “I DON’T KNOW THAT YOU WOULD FIND THEM AS UNBEARABLY ATTRACTIVE AS THE REST OF ME.”

Coming from Papyrus, that was practically a statement of self-loathing. Guilt bubbled in Mettaton’s soul-tank.

“Beautiful.” He grasped the top of his boyfriend’s arms and squeezed them gently. “There is not a bone in your body that I would not find attractive. Of course, I will not ask you to perform if you are suffering stage fright, but I do think you shine so much brighter in the light.”

Papyrus smiled a little, though his browbone was still turned upward with worry.

"IF YOU'RE SURE…"

"Positive as my ratings, darling."

Papyrus nodded slowly. "I TRUST YOU, METTATON."

Those words were like ambrosia to Mettaton's soul. He would do anything to remain worthy of his boyfriend's trust.

"PLEASE, JUST… DON'T BE FRIGHTENED, ALRIGHT?"

Mettaton couldn't imagine anything about Papyrus being frightening.

Then, with agonizing care, Papyrus peeled off his gloves. And Mettaton understood.

The bones of his hands were scorched an ashen gray, nearly black. Hairline cracks laced through them like spiderwebs. Mettaton was half afraid that if he touched them, they would crumble to dust.

"I'M FINE, REALLY!" Papyrus must have noticed the look on his face, no matter how quickly Mettaton had schooled his expression. "THESE BURNS ARE SO OLD, I BARELY NOTICE THEY'RE THERE!"

His grin was strained. Mettaton wanted nothing more than to reach out and squeeze his hand, but he didn't dare.

"They don't hurt?" Mettaton asked, then winced. He could've phrased that more tactfully. It was probably better than asking how on earth the injury had happened, at least.

"WELL… THEY ARE A BIT SENSITIVE WITHOUT MY GLOVES. THEY HAVE HEALING MAGIC, YOU SEE." Papyrus held out one of his red gloves, his expression turning to one of pride. "SANS DID THE SEWING, AND I DID THE ENCHANTMENT."

"No wonder you love them so much." Mettaton smiled. It was adorable how much Papyrus loved his brother. Their love had inspired Mettaton to finally patch up his relationship with Blooky and Mew Mew.

Papyrus smiled back, running a charred fingertip fondly over the fabric. "WOULD YOU… LIKE TO TRY ONE ON?"

"Me?" Mettaton blinked.

"OF COURSE! WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO EXPERIENCE THE GREAT PAPYRUS'S LEGENDARY HEALING MAGIC FIRSTHAND?"

Mettaton chuckled at the pun. "How could I possibly refuse?"

He slipped off his white gloves, revealing the unsightly bolts in his own fingers. He hardly felt self-conscious about that after seeing Papyrus's hands, though.

Papyrus's glove fit like a dream. Like holding his hand, only from the inside. Warmth seeped from the fabric into his metal joints, slipping through his cracks like sweet oil.

"This is… quite the enchantment," he breathed.

Papyrus couldn’t be in pain with that much healing magic caressing his bones. But on the other hand, even the constant healing magic had failed to permanently erase the scars. Mettaton still wasn’t too familiar with physical injuries, but surely that wasn’t normal, right?

Papyrus’s wink sounded like magical glitter."WHAT CAN I SAY? I'M VERY ENCHANTING."

He looked just as bright as ever. Just as energetic, as full of life.

Just as beautiful, inside and out.

"That you are, darling." Mettaton kissed his cheek.

Papyrus pulled his left glove back onto his hand, then twined his fingers with Mettaton's. Red on red, warmth on warmth Their hands matched perfectly.

"YOU PROBABLY HAVE SOME QUESTIONS," Papyrus said quietly.

Mettaton's eye flickered to Papyrus's bare right hand before returning to his eyesockets.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't feel comfortable with, darling."

Mettaton was curious of course. If this injury had been caused by another monster, they would face the wrath of a true killer robot. Knowing Papyrus, though, he had probably forgiven whoever was responsible.

"I ALWAYS FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH YOU." He smiled. "AND IT IS… NICE. TO HAVE SOMEONE BESIDES SANS KNOW THIS."

"No one else knows?" Mettaton’s eyes widened. He'd thought Undyne would have found out, whether Papyrus told her on purpose or she burned off his gloves during one of their cooking lessons.

"I AM A SKELETON OF MANY SECRETS." Papyrus winked again. This time it sounded like tinkling bells. "IT HELPS THAT NO ONE ELSE REMEMBERS THE ACCIDENT, THOUGH."

An accident. No one had hurt Papyrus on purpose.

Mettaton sighed in relief, powering down his killer robot protocols.

"I WAS HELPING MY DAD WITH HIS WORK ON THE CORE. I ALWAYS CALIBRATED THE PUZZLES WHILE HE CALIBRATED THE GEOTHERMAL POWER LEVELS."

Papyrus looked down at their tangled hands, his expression distant.

"I STILL DON'T KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED. ON THE DAYS SANS REMEMBERS, HE PROMISES THAT IT WASN'T MY FAULT. THAT DAD WAS TOO CARELESS. BUT THERE WAS AN EXPLOSION, AND DAD, HE… HE FELL…"

Something in Mettaton crushed as Papyrus's voice cracked.

"I WAS LUCKIER. THE BLAST ONLY GOT MY HANDS." The smile returned.

"Papyrus…"

Mettaton didn't know what to say. What could he say? Ghosts didn't have parents. His cousins were his family, but he couldn't imagine them dying, either. Blooky physically couldn't.

But this wasn't about him! It was about Papyrus, who had lost his father and scarred his hands and still counted himself lucky.

"DON'T BE SAD, METTATON. IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO. LONGER THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE."

Papyrus looked into his eyes, and for a moment, Mettaton saw something old. Mettaton had been alive—albeit as a ghost—for nearly two centuries. Right now, though, Mettaton wondered if Papyrus was even older than that.

"I suppose so,” he reluctantly admitted. “I don't even remember an explosion at the CORE."

"OH, THAT'S NORMAL. APPARENTLY DAD WAS RATHER FORGETTABLE." His smile was sad. "EVEN SANS DOESN'T ALWAYS REMEMBER HIM. BUT I… WELL."

He closed his blackened fist.

"IT WOULD BE DIFFICULT TO FORGET."

Mettaton opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Papyrus was looking for a response.

“WHEW! ALL THIS HONESTY IS EXHAUSTING!!” Sweat beaded on his skull. “DO YOU WANT TO GO GET NICE CREAMS?”

“Of course, darling, but—are you sure that you’re okay?” Mettaton couldn’t help the concern in his voice. It wasn’t every day that he unlocked his boyfriend’s tragic backstory.

And here he’d been so concerned about something as trivial as holding hands. He truly was as selfish as everyone believed.

“PLEASE, DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME,” Papyrus said firmly. His hand gave Mettaton’s a tight squeeze. “I MEANT IT WHEN I SAID IT WAS LONG AGO. PRACTICALLY A DIFFERENT LIFETIME. I ONLY TOLD YOU SO THAT YOU WOULD KNOW HOW MUCH I TRUST YOU.”

Trust. Mettaton trusted Papyrus, too. Trusted that he didn’t need Mettaton to coddle him. Trusted that if he wanted Mettaton’s help, he would ask for it.

“I… thank you, darling.” Ghostly tears welled in his eyes. “Your trust means everything to me.”

“WELL THEN!” Papyrus’s grin turned mischievous. “I TRUST YOU TO KISS ME UNTIL I CAN’T BREATHE!”

Mettaton’s fans whirred and whirred. The sound was quickly drowned out by the raindrops that began to fall and fizzle on his shoulder pads.

“Darling, you’re a skeleton. You don’t have lungs.”

“NEITHER DO YOU.” Papyrus twirled the umbrella before popping it open, protecting Mettaton from the threat of short-circuiting.

(From the rain, at least.)

“You truly know how to give me a challenge, darling.” Mettaton cuddled closer, reaching up to brush his red-gloved hand against Papyrus’s cheekbone.

“ONLY BECAUSE I KNOW YOU’LL RISE TO IT!”

Mettaton grinned back, and that was exactly what he did.

#fic tag #prompt requests #papyton #tali writes #papyrus #mettaton

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plant-flwrs · 4 years

Text

heart of glass // fred weasley

masterlist!

request (from @bitchywhisperswizard <3): Hi! I absolutely LOVE your writing! Could I maybe request where Fred Weasley breaks up with reader before the war and thinks she died? Only to find her a year later in the muggle world like a celebrity performer? I understand if it doesn't make sense. Thank you!

a/n: thank u for the request!! i refuse to believe fred d*ed, but i am a sucker for fred lives au’s. also went a little grunge w this just because i love those pictures of metalhead james and oliver :) (i listened to miley cyrus’s new cover of heart of glass while i wrote this so i just called it that)

summary: Fred broke up with you just before the war, and when he couldn’t find you after the battle cleared he thought you died. You’re alive and well, living as a celebrity among the muggle world. One night reunites you two, and neither of you can deny the feelings that spark.

(2.5k)

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Clutching the white sink beneath your fingers, you barely recognized the person looking back at you in the mirror. Your eyes were sunken and swollen, your lips puffed and red. Your cheeks were hollowed, casting shadows into your face. You lifted a shaky hand, pushing your hair out of your face and revealing a scar on your temple.

You had barely made it out of the war, and once you did, you had no intentions on going back.

You made a new life in the muggle world, and eventually you were able to do what you had always wanted to do: perform.

It was about ten minutes before you were due in stage, and your nerves had stopped buzzing a long time ago. You dipped a finger into some black eyeshadow, spreading it haphazardly across your eyes. You looked dead, and it showed what you felt like on the inside.

Not a day passed in which Fred Weasley hadn’t thought of you. Not a day passed in which guilt hadn’t plagued his heart and mind. Every day, for just over a year, the image of tears streaming down your face as he broke up with you was glue to the inside of his eyelids.

George tried to understand but he could never understand the pain. He tried to help his brother when he could.

“Freddie!” George called to him from across the store, heaving in a huge box.

“Yeah?” Fred replied from behind the counter, pushing heavy buttons on the loud till.

“Look at this,” George quickly removed a hand from under the box, shifting his weight. He handed Fred a flier he found posted in the side of the shop.

It was a black flier, advertising some muggle bar in London. It looked like the sort of crowd the brothers gravitated towards some odd five years ago. Skulls and grunge symbols littered the page, and Fred found himself smiling fondly at it.

“Want to go?’ George asked, setting down the box in its right place, starting to unload the new shipment of chocolate wands.

“Aren’t we a little too old for this, George?” Fred said with a sad smile.

In that moment, George had the feeling he didn’t recognize his brother. His own face, but tormented with worry, sadness, and the unfriendly effects of time. George furrowed his brow, and tried to continue.

“No! It’ll be fun,” George reassured, slapping a hand on his brother’s back.

This was how Fred found himself clung to the bar all night, nursing a beer in his hand. He didn’t like muggle alcohol as much, but he supposed it would do.

The bar was in the back of the crowded club, but it barely had any people by it. Everyone had rushed to the front of a stage, the entire room filled with enthusiastic screams. George hovered near the back of the crowd, where Fred could still see him, swinging back and forth to the music they played over the speaker.

Fred and George had liked going to concerts after the war. The flashing lights and loud noises were difficult at first, very difficult, but it was one of the things that helped them recover.

Fred looked around over the top of his drink, surveying the crowd. It was mostly made up of people who looked like him five years ago, people who hadn’t been through a war, or lost their ex-girlfriend in that war. People who didn’t feel like crying every second of every day. The crowd didn’t look like you or Fred.

Someone knocked on your door, their words muffled by the ringing in your ears. You shook your head, letting your hair fall naturally in it’s place over your scar. You pulled up the high boots you wore, and fixed the sheer tights that dove into them. Pulling the top of your tank top to cover your chest some more, you felt the cold air hit your slightly exposed stomach. You stood off to the right, backstage, waiting as people poked and prodded at you, fixing wires and handing you things to hold that they would eventually take back from you.

The nerves still didn’t come, but you hadn’t expected them to. Nothing made you nervous anymore, nothing made you feel anything, really.

Someone held the curtain open for you, and at the slightest movement the crowd roared. Fred turned his gaze towards the stage, and George moved forward in the crowd.

You looked out into the sea of people, and you could make out a few faces in the front. You had requested dulled lights for all of your shows, unable to handle the bright lights that often came with performing. A purple light hovered above you, illuminating you with the cool hue.

You cast a smirk out into the audience, moving to your mark at the center of the stage. Your band filed in behind you, and you tugged at the cord for the microphone, giving yourself some slack. The crowd was still just as loud as when you came out, and you started your first song.

You couldn’t hear anything but your own voice ringing through your head, booming through the earpiece tucked behind your hair.

From the bar, Fred found his glass shattered on the floor beneath him. It hadn’t even made a sound over your powerful voice coming from what felt like every angle. He couldn’t move, his eyes just locked on your almost unrecognizable face. Even though you looked like him, tired and full of regrets, eyes sunken and cheeks hollowed, he would recognize you and your voice from anywhere.

He had heard you sing almost everyday since he met you. You hummed next to him in class, you chorused obnoxiously in the common room, and you sang to him softly while the two of you laid in bed.

Looking at you now, bent at the knees and almost squatting as you nearly screamed the chorus for what he could assume was your own song, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Everything washed through him, the guilt, the sadness, the worry, the pain.

George was next to him in a second, shaking him by his shoulders. A gleeful smile spread across his face and he just chanted: “She’s alive, she’s actually alive, Freddie!” over and over.

Fred couldn’t believe it, he had always wanted something like this to happen, to replay it all and make sure you hadn’t died, and now that he saw you living and breathing he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Fred ducked into the bathroom, splashing water over his face until he felt like himself again. He fixed his hair, regretting not getting a haircut earlier in the week like he had wanted to. You did always like his hair long, though. He looked down at his buttoned down shirt, the flowy sleeves rolled up halfway up his arms. He tucked it into his jeans, trying to smooth it out some.

George was waiting from him outside the door, biting his nails.

“She’s amazing, mate,” George said. Your voice echoed around the room, and still floated to their ears from the corner they had hidden away in.

“She always was,” Fred mumbled.

“I can’t believe it,” George said, his mouth agape and shaking his head in a disbelieving way.

“Do I look okay?” Fred asked his brother, holding his arms out a little.

George tugged at the sleeves, evening them out and making the rolls more neat.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling Fred with him.

The two sat and listened to you sing until Fred couldn’t take it anymore. The brothers left the venue, moving out onto the chilly London street. They walked around the back, where your crew had parked. They waited.

You finished your show, leaving the stage with the usual rush of adrenaline. You could never sit still inside after a show, and you rushed past your crew and out the back door. The cold air hit your skin, nipping at your sweat covered face and torso. You reached back inside, your hand finding a stool with a pack of cigarettes on them. You came back outside, fiddling with the package. You pulled one out and brought it to your lips, and realized you didn’t have a lighter. These were the moments you wished you still had your wand. It was always easier to smoke when you were a witch.

“Need a light?” someone spoke, coming from out of a shadow.

You immediately felt tears brimming your eyes, looking into the familiar brown eyes and flaming red hair.

“George?” you croaked, voice weak from the singing and the tears threatening to spill over.

George and you took steps towards each other, and he wrapped you in his arms. You cried into his chest, not really knowing why. You supposed you missed him, or maybe it was the fact that he looked strikingly like the boy who had broken your heart.

“Y/n,” another voice, a voice you would know always, called from behind him.

You shrunk from George hesitantly, wiping your eyes. You looked down at your hands, seeing them covered in smeared black makeup. You looked back at George’s shirt and saw a similar mark. You looked up at him apologetically, but he just beamed back at you, waving it off. You watched him pull his wand from his side, and with a simple movement, the stain was gone. You felt yourself crying harder.

You turned back to Fred, who had also started crying. The two of you lunged at each other, a mess of forceful limbs trying to wrap around the other.

“I thought you died,” Fred called out, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

You sobbed in response, your body shaking against Fred’s. He pulled your tighter, like he had regretted ever letting go.

You felt like you could never compose yourself, but you eventually did. Fred’s eyes were red and swollen, and you had wiped the tears off his cheeks. He did the same charm George had done to get the makeup off his shirt.

You led them inside, back into the venue. All of you sniffled as you walked together. You waved to security, telling them they were with you, and ignored your manager as you slipped into your greenroom.

“You were amazing up there,” George said, taking advantage of the full bar you had in the room.

You took the glass he had made for you, gulping down the harsh alcohol in one swig. George chuckled, ducking into the mini fridge and handing you a soda.

“So your a muggle now?” Fred croaked, his eyes locked on his glass.

“Turned in my wand after the war,” you answered, putting the soda on the table beside you because you couldn’t trust your shaking hands.

“We missed you,” George spoke, sitting next to you on the couch.

You forced a smile on your cracking lips, glancing at him.

“I thought you died,” Fred spoke, finally looking up at you.

Your eyes widened, mouth opening slightly.

“Couldn’t find you after,” George said, forcing himself to remember, “looked almost all night. Lifted every stone we could find.”

Your eyes drifted down, tears filling them again. You swallowed hard, hating yourself immediately for the pain you put them through. You couldn’t even compare it to the pain Fred put you through, because at least you knew he was alive.

“I left,” you mumbled, lip quivering a little, “Just after the dust settled. I flew home and packed everything I owned.”

Fred scoffed across form you, and both you and George’s head shot up to look at him.

“I thought you died,” he repeated, sounding harsh.

“ ‘M sorry,” you mumbled, tasting the warm and salty tears falling into your mouth.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?” George whispered from beside you, swallowing hard.

“I dunno,” you admitted, wiping your tears with the back of your hand, “I just had to leave. I didn’t think you would have wanted to see me.”

You spoke to Fred, referencing the harsh breakup a month before the war. He looked at you, hurt in his eyes.

“Of course I wanted to see you,” he said, sounding hurt that you could even think that.

“You broke it off with me, Fred, what was I supposed to think?”

“I only did that to keep you safe!” Fred yelled.

“Well it didn’t keep me safe! It just hurt more!” you shouted back, pulling your hair off your face and behind your ears in a stressful motion.

Fred looked at you, shocked. His eyes fell to your scar, and you covered it with your hair again.

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke, sounding regretful.

You nodded your head, looking at the ground.

“I’ve missed you, Y/n,” George spoke, his voice soft, “here.”

He slipped a card into your hand, and you looked down at it. It was a business card. Your mouth widened into a smile, and before you could stop yourself, you were laughing.

“Did George Weasley just give me a business card?”

George smiled back at you, chuckling with you.

You examined the card, reading the gold writing. ‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Fred and George Weasley’. The card had an address on it.

“Visit the shop some time,” George said, standing, “I’ll meet you at home, Fred?”

Fred looked at George, furrowing his brow. George made a motion for Fred to sit, and Fred sighed. George hugged you and left you with Fred.

You two sat in silence, he nursed his whiskey and you picked at you fingers.

“You really were amazing up there,” Fred finally said, putting his glass on the table.

“Thank you,” you said sheepishly.

“I still love you, you know,” Fred said confidently, looking straight into your eyes.

Your lips parted, hearing the words you had wanted to hear for about a year, and you didn’t know what to say.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

Fred stood from his chair and moved over to you, sitting next to you. His hand found yours, and you sat together. Neither of you had felt anything like this in a long time. The numbness receded into you, allowing space for love and relief to fill you. Fred no longer felt the weight of guilt and worry, all that banished just by a glance at your face.

Your hand still shook in his, and he held it tightly until it stopped. He turned towards you, bringing a hand to your face. He pushed your hair off your face, looking at you scar.

“Is that from-” he trailed off, his thumb tracing the mark.

You nodded, flicking your eyes away from his. He snaked it hand behind your neck, and pulled your face close to his. His lips connected to your scar, and he held you there for a moment. You closed your eyes, melting into his touch.

“I don’t ever want to be apart from you again,” he mumbled into your face.

“Me neither,” you whispered back.

#fred weasley #fred weasley au #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasely fic #fred #weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley grunge #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #harry potter

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moonlitceleste · 3 years

Text

straight up villain (Villain AU)

This is a songfic based on “Villain” by K/DA ft. Madison Beer and Kim Petras. There’s really no plot to it; I started with a vague idea and just went along with whatever my brain told me. It kinda jumps around and I didn’t proofread this at all, so sorry if it’s confusing!

I’d suggest listening to the song and watching the visualizer video because it’s honestly such a vibe. If I could animate I’d totally make a video full of epic fight scenes, but unfortunately I don’t have that talent learned yet.

This version of the song is a little more chill, so if you find the original too intense you can always listen to the slowed one instead.

On the low Only love myself, no more Take you to the grave, I'll ghost I know I can be so cold In the dark Where I like to keep my heart Know I'm all bite, no bark Like to catch you way off guard

A shiver ran down the crime boss’ spine.

His eyes darted around the room, searching through the darkness.

Shadows flickered. He swore he could see movement in them.

The night was crime’s time to rule; people feared the darkness it brought.

Now, he was the scared one.

I'll stay so deep inside your brain And take you somewhere far away

“Who’s there?”

A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, revealing his false bravado.

Shaking hands gripped the gun around his waist, knuckles turning white with pressure.

Creeeakk.

The man whipped around, heart hammering in his chest.

Who—or what—was lurking in the shadows?

A snap echoed through the air as he fired a round.

Silence.

The only sound came from distant echoes of Gotham’s nightlife and the frantic beating in his throat.

He swore he had seen something sweep out in the corner of his vision, if only for a moment.

Perhaps it was the paranoia.

He slowly lowered his gun, shoulders relaxing—

Only to whip around when he felt a phantom hand brush his shoulder.

A pair of eyes flashed in the darkness, gone the next second, but he knew what he had seen, what he had felt.

Icy fear seized his body, taking hold of his limbs.

Something was watching him.

Time to roll the dice, you know I'm the type Type to risk my life, not afraid to die Type to make you cry, type to put a price All up on your head, do just what I said I'm a straight up villain, straight up villain Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling Straight up villain, straight up villain Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling

“Stop toying around.”

The gravelly voice was met with a cackle, almost cat-like in nature.

That was his only warning before it stepped from the shadows: a creature out of his nightmares, shrouded in darkness like part of the night itself.

Sharpened black claws glinted under the streetlights, and dark black orbs pinned him in place as it slunk forward. He couldn’t move, frozen like a deer in headlights.

The thing was so human-like in shape, but it was too monstrous to be one.

A wicked smile spread across its face, and his face blanched as he caught sight of the fangs protruding from the top.

The creature stalked forward like a predator chasing its prey.

Then, it pounced.

I'm alive, but I'm dead Hear my voice up in your head Watch it fill you full of drеad 'Til you go pow

It was common knowledge within Gotham’s criminal underworld that the Arkham Knight worked alone. He played by his own rules, merciless in his distribution of justice.

But lately, it was rumored that the Knight had an ally.

There was no proof of this, no sightings to go by, but there was a subtle shift that could be felt—an underlying sensation of imminent danger.

Gunfights and confrontations lessened, and the Knight’s enemies started disappearing without a trace. No blood, body, or evidence of struggle could be found; it was as if they had simply ceased to exist.

Whoever this new player was, they were dangerous.

Is it really a surprise if I'm playing with your mind And I treat you likе a prize, then I throw you to the side? And am I really that bad if l love to make you mad? And get happy when you're sad, only care about a bag

Jason shook out his hair, metal helmet in his hands, and leveled a glance at his companion.

“Did you really have to take so long to kill him?”

The two were in one of their few safe houses, recuperating after their long night of fighting.

“It’s the thrill of the chase.”

Marinette, no longer transformed, stated this as if it were obvious—which it was. Jason had been with her long enough to understand her concept of fun. She leaned forward and stretched, looking much like the animal after which her magic ring was themed.

“We can’t waste time playing around. There are more important things to be done,” he growled.

Marinette simply giggled, bounding over to bat her eyes at him with mock innocence.

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “You know what you’re doing.”

Her smile grew wicked, arms darting out to wrap around his waist.

“You look so good when you’re mad,” she purred.

Jason leaned down, and their lips met in a kiss.

In control That's how I like it and I'm never letting go, nah Never had a soul (soul) So you ain't taking nothing from me when you go, nah

Crack.

Marinette smirked as her staff made contact with the target’s skull.

Normally she would use Cataclysm for a more swift kill, but the remains were needed in order to send a message to Arkham Knight’s enemies.

They were growing more volatile, more desperate to expose whatever they thought she was.

Phantom Killer, they called her. The name sounded like something out of a badly-written horror movie. Marinette much preferred the one she had already: Reine de L'ombre.

Of course, she didn’t need a title, but Jason had come up with it. She was pleasantly surprised by his naming skills—it meant Shadow Queen, for she was a queen, and Jason her knight, as he put it.

She didn’t feel any remorse as the pile of bodies below her grew. Perhaps this made her soulless, but she didn’t need one anyway.

Marinette had all she wanted right beside her.

I'll stay so deep inside your brain And take you somewhere far away

“...you do what you gotta do, am I right?”

Marinette nodded at the man standing across from her, a smile on her red-painted lips.

He had been leering at her from across the bar the whole night, and although that was the goal, she was still disgusted. He had to be at least twenty years older than her. Heck, he was old enough to be her dad.

The intel she and Jason had acquired said the businessman had a thing for younger women, which was apparent. According to the same source, the company he ran was also a front for trafficking and drug rings.

Marinette wanted to see him bleed.

“How about we take this to my room?”

The comment was abrupt, and Jason would probably kill her for her indiscretion later, but she was getting tired of the man’s blabbering.

Her hand moved up his arm, the expensive material of his suit cool against her fingers. She bit her lips seductively, which seemed to convince him.

Bingo.

Time to roll the dice, you know I'm the type Type to risk my life, not afraid to die Type to make you cry, type to put a price All up on your head, do just what I said I'm a straight up villain, straight up villain Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling (yeah, yeah) Straight up villain, straight up villain Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling

Marinette gritted her teeth as the man tried to reach for her butt again.

She attempted to stop him by saying she wanted to wait until they entered her room, but he was persistent. She couldn’t wait to get rid of him.

As soon as she opened the door to her hotel room, she shoved him inside and up against the wall. He seemed to be expecting a kiss, but she punched him hard. For a crime lord he certainly wasn’t a good fighter. Maybe it was the drugs she slipped into his drink earlier that contributed to his quick defeat.

Marinette cuffed his arms behind his back with a pair she had stashed earlier. She could have waited for the man to undress so she could ensure he didn’t have any weapons, but she had gone through enough torture already. Her eyes didn’t need to see that.

She turned him around, giving him a smile that promised warmth and kindness, before pulling out a dagger and pressing it to his throat.

“Now talk.”

I'm alive, but I'm dead Hear my voice up in your head Watch it fill you full of dread 'Til you go pow

“Claws in.”

Marinette’s black suit faded away, revealing her now blood-spattered red dress.

She flopped onto the couch, not bothering to remove her shoes or dirty clothing.

After hours of trying to get information out of the businessman, she only managed to wring a few coded phrases from him. He seemed to only be a figurehead of his shady organization rather than its actual leader.

A Cataclysm later and here she was, back to the drawing board.

“Jay?” Marinette called.

It was unusually quiet in the safe house; usually after solo missions they’d greet one another with a kiss. Now, he was nowhere to be seen.

“Jason?”

Silence.

Marinette huffed. She knew exactly what this was about.

Bang, bang You can do anything No fear, no pain Listen to your brain go Go stupid, go dumb, go stupid and Then we go insane, woah Just do what I say Follow me, I'll lead the way

“Are you jealous?”

Jason whipped his head around, caught off-guard by the appearance of his girlfriend in his doorway. It seemed as if she wasn’t wasting any time.

“I’m not jealous. That guy couldn’t get you if he tried.”

“Then why are you mad?”

His jaw clenched.

He wished he hadn’t agreed to let Marinette extract the information alone; Jason almost wished he was there to see the man in pain.

“He was putting his hands all over you.”

“It was for a mission. Besides, I thought you said he couldn’t get me even if he tried?”

Her last words were said with a lilt, and Jason knew she was riling him up. He couldn’t stay mad, anyway—she had a point.

He deflated and leaned forward to brush his lips against her. Marinette smiled into the kiss, then pulled away. She looked him up and down, a glint in her eyes.

“I guess I’ll have to make it up to you, hmm?”

She paused, then wrinkled her nose.

“After I take a shower. I don’t want this guy’s blood on me any longer.”

Maybe they acted stupid sometimes, but the two always followed one another in the end.

Time to roll the dice, you know I'm the type Type to risk my life, not afraid to die Type to make you cry, type to put a price (Woo-ah) All up on your head, do just what I said I'm a straight up villain, straight up villain Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling Straight up villain, straight up villain (Yeah) Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling (Woo-ah!)

Marinette panted deeply, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

A mass of bodies surrounded her, but she wasn’t paying attention. This wasn’t just a battle. It was war.

It was a fight for her life, and she wasn’t going down now.

Reine de L'ombre tore through her enemies like a terrifying force of darkness, one after the other. The Arkham Knight fought by her side, fueled by pure destruction.

Maybe they wouldn’t make it out, but they wouldn’t go down without a fight.

I'm alive, but I'm dead Hear my voice up in your head Watch it fill you full of dread

'Til you go pow

A week later, a couple rose hand-in-hand from the ranks as new rulers of the Gotham Underworld.

Reine de L'ombre and the Arkham Knight—a queen and her king.

PERMANENT TAGLIST @avengerthewarrior @enternalempires @freesportspalacesalad @h1sss @nathleigh

#maribat #celestewrites #jasonette #cel's fics

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infini-tree · 3 years

Text

FANFIC: in post

Summary: A unexpected reunion takes place. Captain may be the one who starts it, but its Benjamin who ends it.

A/N: (alternate title - i don’t know what possessed me to write this post in fic form, but its here now and you all have to deal with it)

in post stuff isn’t going to be an ongoing multi-chapter thing, let alone in order, but just a place to put all the little drabbles I have. Unlike what the name suggests not all of them happen after the main story of the AU, though this one definitely does. The only way I can imagine this is after years after the main story has wrapped up.

though lbr i mostly because I got tired of trying to figure out titles for WIPs.

And just in case: slight content warning for verbal abuse from a parent. Its nothing explicit and is just a flashback, but it does take up the entire paragraph chunk its in and starts with “Suddenly he was back at his living room”.

——–

Captain comes back to a gymnasium full of people and music, which wasn’t the weirdest part. Nor was the fact that the people were grown-ups.

No, the weirdest part was that the gym wasn’t the one he had come to associate with Jerome Horwitz. Though, it was difficult to appreciate the novelty; between the sudden noise and people, he feels out of his depth.

His body moved automatically. Every accidental bump into someone was a shock, each trumpet blare was like a blow to his skull, and he dimly recalled thinking ah, that’s it when hearing the sound of snapping in the music. The clothes, while leagues comfier than his counterpart’s go-to, it was still there.

After what felt like ages of wading through a sea of people, he stumbled into a hallway just as unfamiliar as the gym. He really, really wanted to get out of this place quickly-- or at least, bring Benjamin back to deal with whatever this place is himself.

(Which bears the question: why did Benjamin come here? Parties aren’t exactly his Thing.)

The music faded as he moved away from the gymnasium, which helped a little. Captain forced himself to look around. The walls looked the same as Jerome Horwitz was, but if the details were reshuffled. The lockers were in different places, the corridors weren’t exactly where he expected them to be and neither were the bulletin boards with posters on it-- wait, posters!

There were a lot of random stuff about clubs and other announcements, but one stood out. Its top edges curled in on itself, so he couldn’t read the top part, but the rest read: REUNION.

“Welcome back, class of--” Captain repeated, until--

Someone cleared their throat. He leapt up in the air with a short yell, nearly stumbling over his shoe-covered feet.

The newcomer winced, but nonetheless stayed silent. If the Waistband Warrior could describe her, then it would be... sharp. Sharp look, sharp flat top, sharp gaze. Not mean, though it could be. It reminded her of his sidekicks’ freshly sharpened pencils, ready and full of potential.

“...Are you lost?”

“Beg pardon?”

“You’ve been wandering the same hallway intersection and--” she pointed a thumb towards a distant hallway. “The gymnasium is over there.”

Captain blinked for a moment, letting her words sink in. “Oh-- ohhh. Oh no, I meant to get out of the gymnasium,” he said matter-of-factly. “Though yes, I am lost. Do you, ah, could you show me where the nearest washroom or... water fountain is around here, er--”

“Moxie.” It looked like she was expecting something, but when nothing did, her shoulders untensed.

“Captain!” he beamed.

The sharp look turned severe. “Is that a joke?”

He flinched, unsure of what set her off. “U-- uh, no?”

Sensing his nervous energy, the severe look shifted to apprehension. Her brow furrowed. Did she not know either?

“Ma’am?”

“...Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked, crossing her arms. “I’m no good with faces.”

Captain paled. Either she knew Benjamin-- which was not a conversation he was equipped for-- or she recognized him as Captain Underpants-- which was a whole other, potentially dangerous can of worms.

“Uh, nope!” he chirped. “About that washroom--”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” she said after a moment, pointing a thumb down a nearby corridor. “There should be one down the hall.”

"Alrighty, thank you! Have a lovely night, Moxie.” And with that, Captain rushed to the washroom to wash his face and get out of whatever that was.

And only when he looked in the mirror of the dingy washroom, to the clothes that made it hard to think did he slap a hand to his forehead. He really did just introduce himself as himself while dressed up as Benjamin.

He was definitely going to read an essay’s worth of complaining after this whole thing.

——–

“Hey, Captain.”

Benjamin gripped at his chest at the sudden voice. He just stepped outside and into the parking lot only to find Moxie Swaggerman, straight A student, the envy of literally half the school, now astronaut just...

“Uh, what are you doing out here?” his lip curls up wryly out of old habit-- he’ll address the whole Captain thing later-- what did that idiot do while he was out?! “Got tired of people asking for your autograph?”

She tilted her head, adjusting her aviator glasses. “Oh, so you do know me.” She almost seemed... disappointed by that. “Why, you want one?”

“Urgh, no.” He crinkled his nose. Opinions about her aside, that just sounded... weird to ask from someone he knew, even if said knowledge was periphery at best and non-existent at worst.

Moxie let out an amused huff. “Good, because I can only take so much people trying to kiss up to me.”

Despite himself, Benjamin couldn’t help but let out a laugh, short and loud and practically a cackle. The woman’s brow quirked up as she regarded him.

“What?” he snapped back.

“The lack of hair threw me off, since I remember you with that weird swoop back, but I finally figured it out--” And he couldn’t help but adjust his toupee as she swept back her hands on both sides as a pale imitation of how his hair was all those decades ago. “You were the one who competed against me for Prom Queen.”

Benjamin wanted to say something, but all that came out was half-noises. His entire body grew hot and his hands became clammy as she just... continued to stare. The worst part about all this was that, with the low light of outside, he couldn’t tell why.

Suddenly he was back at his living room-- but not his, not anymore, he refused to consider that place his own-- staring down at the floor and clutching at the hems. Seeing his brother just peering in in his periphery vision as his mother continued her tirade, each word bullwhip-precise at hitting him in his core. But this was different; he was older and under no one’s thumb.

“A-- and what about it,” he managed to pry out of his throat.

Moxie’s posture shifted, and he could see her surprised expression now. If the circumstances were a bit different, then he would be reveling in the fact. Right now, though, he felt exposed, which was saying something considering who his counterpart was.

“Whoa-- hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” she clarified, and was that a hint of awkwardness? Remorse in her voice? “Honestly, it’s... nice to see you again.”

It was his turn to gawk. “...Really?”

“I mean, yeah. It’s uh-- like, its nice to see, ah... people like me still kicking.”

And it was then that Benjamin remembered the old rumors about Swaggerman-- about why she couldn’t get a nice guy to fall for her, and the girl from the rival school that clung by her side like a second shadow during summer vacation.

“I’ve always wondered for the longest time if you did that whole thing as a...” she paused, pursing her lips. “A joke, or something.”

“Oh,” he managed. “No, it wasn’t.”

“OK.” She nodded. “OK. Good to know.”

“Why, was that eating away at you?”

A passing car lit up her features in relief. When had her annoyingly cool façade been just that? It looked guarded now. A little more awkward. Funny how a few decades of separation can do.

Moxie shrugged. “Would have been nice to know back then.”

Benjamin wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he shrugged sympathetically and began to fiddle with the keys in his hand-- he had almost forgotten why he was out here in the first place.

She gaze followed the source of the glint. “Leaving early? Figure I should head out too.” She sighed. “Thanks.”

“...For what?”

“For making my last night before I get put to my paces a little more bearable.” She stretched her arms in front of her.

“Really, last night before you go to space and you choose to come here,” Benjamin deadpanned.

“First of all, no that’s not--” she shook her head. “Never mind. Basically, I wanted a normal night, and at least I got a bit of that. So, thanks, Captain.”

Benjamin had half a mind to correct her, but the moment had long passed and frankly he didn’t want to break the moment he was in now.

“Uh, yeah.” He waved her off awkwardly. “See you later.”

She's going to space, idiot, not a weekend road trip, his own mind admonished.

Moxie only nodded in reply before she went off as well-- presumably to her own car.

#mellsian fanfics #captain underpants #sticky notes au #im not sure How to end this but its There #the au can have bits of tetocu in its continuity as a Treat

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im-whatchamccallit · 3 years

Text

Circles//Kim Doyoung (NCT 127)

Pairing: Kim Doyoung x Fem!Reader

Genre: Series/Multiple parts, Mafia/Crime!AU, Suggestive, Angst, Fluff, Potential Smut in future chapters

Warnings: Suggestive content, mention of guns and murder, mentions of the mafia and organized crime

Word Count: 4.5k

(A/N: So, like I said in one of my last post, I’m trying to start a series so that I will have a reason to post more often and not let this blog die the way I did before. Only problem? This was the first thing that came to mind and I’ve been terrified it won’t do well so please leave feedback if you like it so I know to continue it. This is also my first NCT 127 post so... Yay! Also, I recently read about how taboo a lot of people think the mafia/crime AUs are in fanfiction and I want to be cautious of their feelings in regards to this which is why I also haven’t posted it but I just want to post something while getting out of my writers block. But, again, leave feedback on whether you love it or hate it, leave request if you want, anything’s appreciated.)

Masterlist|Guidelines

You’ve seen elegance but never at this level, eyes glued to the ceiling that seemed to reach heights you could only dream of, not even thirty basketball players stacked onto one another’s shoulders able to graze the top. The sparkling from the crystal gold leaf chandeliers adding to the fairytale-like atmosphere as servers of all kind bustled around you offering food and drinks at any given chance, your hand reluctantly staying at your side as you declined their generosity. You were starving, but you had a job to do and, that job, was Song Minhyun.

He was the newly appointed Don of the Amarillo family, his father passing away from an unknown condition only a week ago but, based on how fast Minhyun made the world aware that he was now in control of all the illicit acts committed in the name of Amarillo after years of having their identity protected and undisclosed, even going as far as to threaten and betray the various families beneath him in an insane power trip, it was clear his father’s death was no accident. But you were never a fan of that man, he was creepy with a bad attitude to match, so this task wasn’t some gesture of vengeance for him, it was strictly about you and your family.

Just like the Amarillo’s, your family went under an alternative name, Nio’s, which closely resembled the name of the pharmaceutical manufacturing company masking it, Neo Tech. It always made you laugh considering no one caught on to their association, given Nio’s were the largest distributors and exporters of controlled substances in majority of the Eastern hemisphere. But joining Nio’s wasn’t a life you wanted to live, you were practically forced into it, but once you’ve engrained yourself into a life of organized crime, it was impossible to leave. You lived every day with the mindset of kill or be killed, Minhyun’s threats to expose your operations to the NIS who, after the death of Nio’s founder, Kim Dongwan, assumed your family officially ceased activity in the crime syndicate, being your main motive for taking him down. Sure, you were ordered to handle the assassination but, considering you could face life in prison simply for everything you’ve done in the name of Nio’s, you were more than willing. There was one problem though, Song Minhyun was an absolute dream.

Your thoughts seemed to fade into nothingness when you initiated conversation, going with the plan to seduce and kill him only to find he was much more enticing than you anticipated. He was a year or so older than you yet spoke like he was some immortal seer, his wisdom and life stories drawing you in and leaving your heart racing. His smile was so wide and gummy but eyes sharp and attentive, never leaving yours even as he drew you further from the crowd which, according to Taeyong, was not part of the plan. And you couldn’t begin to understand how fucked you were.

You didn’t know where he was taking you, too focused on his words while simultaneously adjusting your silky white dress to reveal more cleavage from the already plunging v-neck and your walk becoming sultrier to expose more of your leg from the thigh-high slit.

“You know, you shouldn’t focus too much on your looks when you’re naturally beautiful.” Minhyun spoke, your eyes darting to him as your hands returned to your sides, a shy giggle echoing in the now deserted hallway he lead you through.

“Can you blame me? Standing next to an attractive man can really mess with a girl’s self-esteem.” You admitted, suddenly feeling like some high schooler in a rom-com.

“Well, I can help with those insecurities. Just tell me where to start and I’ll make you feel like an absolute queen.” Your breath hitched as his body turned to face you, hand reaching to cup your neck but it was large enough that his thumb could glide over your bottom lip with ease, smudging your red lipstick against your skin teasingly but still holding your gaze.

His presence, the sheer dominance he exuded made you whimper in a mixture of fear and pleasure. You weren’t going planning to escape yet he made the initiative to hold you close to him, an arm wrapped securely around your waist making a heat rush through you that could only be described as want, no longer aware of your duties and no longer caring. He was perfect, and you wanted a piece of his perfection. Maybe for the night, maybe forever, you decided you’d choose after whatever surprise he had for you was done in the dark office he dragged you into, your excitement blocking out the burning gaze from just down the hall.

Minhyun shut the door, not bothering to lock it seeing that you were so willing and easy to remain with him. He knew who you were and what you were planning to do. You were an orphan taken in by Nio’s, trained to be a child soldier for a man who couldn’t even hold his own against Minhyun’s father, now under Taeyong’s rules and orders. But knowing that his first encounter with Taeyong was less than stellar and the sudden ultimatum to forfeit all their assets to the Amarillos or be handed over to the police for sentences that can range from 50 years to death for each and every one of his precious borgata, the only thing Taeyong could do was kill him and you, unfortunately were just a pawn in those plans.

“You know, your looks are nothing to be insecure about. You’re beautiful beyond comprehension.” He spoke lowly, inching closer and guiding you to his large desk just by the window, the moonlight that seeped through the blinds the only form of light allowing you to take in his features.

You gasped as he grabbed your hips, spinning you and pressing you over the desk. You sighed in contentment at the feeling of his hands caressing up your thighs, dress riding up and slowly revealing the black thong you had, a low chuckle leaving his lips at the sight. Not just because you were practically bare before him, but at the pocket pistol held securely in its holster that you managed to forget about. It was a Glock 42, making him proud that he did his research on you because, if he was in your position right now, and the number of murders you committed were accurate, he’d be a goner already.

“(Y/n), if only you were as smart as you are beautiful.” He said, your eyes widening at the way he spoke but, more importantly, he knew your name. Your real name. Not the one you were given for this mission.

“How’d you-Ow!” You whimpered as he grabbed your hair, pulling you upwards until your back was flush with his chest.

Tears were pricking your eyes, your breathing heavy as you felt a cool metal press to your temple swallowing hard while simultaneously attempting to reach to your thigh discretely to find your own gun, only to find it was the one in his hand.

“When I read about you, I was so intrigued. So curious. You know there’s only one photo of you online and it’s a mugshot from when you were still living on the streets?” He laughed out loud at that, ignoring the way your body thrashed against his in an attempt to free yourself, head leaning further away from the possibly cocked gun in fear that he was finished monologuing already.

“But you’re really weak. And I’d usually like that in women, especially when they’re this submissive but, them wanting to kill me is a deal breaker. So what am I to do if I have the opportunity to murder my would-be assassin?” His lips were pressed to the shell of your ear, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to silently apologize to the Nio’s. Sorry that you let your guard down, that you let some pretty face turn you into some horny teenager, the only plus side to your death being that it wouldn’t be Taeyong killing you because you knew how much he loved to torture before doing the deed. And with that final thought, you were ready to die, just hoping that someone else could finish the job you’ve failed tonight. And they did.

The sound of the door colliding with the wall was all you heard, followed by two hollow gunshots. Your eyes flew open as you felt Minhyun’s body fall limp against yours, hand slowly releasing your hair until you could move again, quickly shoving him off to adjust your dress to cover yourself before facing your silent savior, your heart stopping at the fierce, angry, “don’t move or I’ll kill you too” gaze Doyoung was giving you.

It was one thing to piss off Taeyong, you knew what to expect, but with Doyoung? He wasn’t a killer. In fact, he was the medic of your unit, coming along in case things went awry and someone needed instant care. He was a gentle person with a snappy attitude, but never one to act on his threats, so to see him with a gun in his hand, a body lying face first in blood from its skull and chest created by the man himself and approaching you with a scowl so deep you thought his baby face would finally start to wrinkle, you felt more fear than when you were almost dead.

“D-doyoung. Thank yo-“ You gasped as your head turned, eyes stinging with tears and cheek burning in both embarrassment and from the harsh impact his hand left.

You slowly peered up, afraid he’d strike you again just to see Yuta and Haechan slipping by silently, giving you a brief glance while collecting to fallen shells and your gun from Minhyun, only to leave you alone once more with the unpredictable aid.

“Doyoung-“

“Let’s go.”

Those were the only words he said before turning to head out of the office, your body immediately following close behind. He was silent the entire time, stuffing the pistol back into his waistband before buttoning his suit’s blazer to conceal it, leading the both of you through the still bumbling party and to the exit. Everything he did felt so tense despite being so normal. The way he spoke to the valets, how he entered the car without bothering to open the door for you, even his group call letting everyone know the task was done felt hostile. But you said nothing, continuing to wait idly by and praying he forgot about the situation.

You were tempted to break the awkward silence looming between the both of you on this seemingly hours long drive but, from the way he was radiating heat from how angry he was, you felt staying silent would be best. But you didn’t want to stay silent. You wanted to thank him for saving you while simultaneously screaming at him for slapping you, but also have one normal conversation with him. It was painful to admit that for the past few years you both weren’t exactly friendly with one another, no one seeming to care as “this was strictly business”, and you hated it. You never said it but you loved the Nio’s members and knew they loved you and each other as well, but for some reason the only two people that kept this family at arms length were the core members, Lee Taeyong and Kim Doyoung.

You knew Doyoung wasn’t a fan of the family ever since his father introduced him to that life, pissed he didn’t follow in his older brother’s footsteps and leave as soon as possible. He was supposed to be the heir to the family and be the boss of the 18 people living under his roof and the 7 working overseas in China to keep production there running and, as much as you didn’t want the responsibility, he was in too deep to run away. He opted to stop training for field work, developing a phony passion for medicine and surgery which led to him becoming the emergency medic for the team and no longer catching his father’s fancy for taking over their empire, leading to his heirship being rescinded. And as for the spot as heir? Doyoung’s father ordered Taeyong to fill. You knew Taeyong a lot better than the others but were utterly shocked to see him take over so easily. He was obviously a natural born leader but he had a habit of complaining about not always wanting to be in charge, using you as his unwilling therapist when he felt like reverting to his unintimidating, crybaby self. But there was no exit at this point, so what more could you do than make the most of a bad situation by befriending one another and having fun when you felt your lives were no longer in danger? And, whether they liked it or not, they were going to have fun with you and the rest of their constantly growing family.

“Y-you know, I was more scared of you then being killed back there. I’ve never seen you so mad.” You laughed, hoping to at least get a smile or something from him, your eyes glancing over to see his grip on the steering wheel tighten at your words. Maybe you should’ve just shut up.

“Doyoung, I’m sorry I put you in a situation where you had to kill, I know you hate stuff like that but, if it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be dead. Besides, it’s kinda like medicine if you think about it. Except you saved a life by taking one rather than just giving drugs to- OW!” You cried out as he slammed on the brakes, the only thing keeping you from flying through the windshield being your hands on the dashboard and the seatbelt crossed over your chest and waist.

“You bitch!” You snapped at him, watching his blank expression as he removed his seatbelt and turned off the car.

“Meet me in my office. You have five minutes.” Doyoung said plainly, your eyes fixed on him in bewilderment as he exited the car with no concern for you.

You let out an annoyed breath, your fear from before mixed with anger as you hurriedly followed his lead, leaving the car and speed walking to the front door he was entering through. To your surprise, most of the guys were there, not sparing either of you a glance as they knew what had happened and knew better than to interfere, but one person didn’t keep quiet.

“(Y/n), what the FUCK did I tell you?” Taeyong growled, your body practically jumping as he cornered you in the entrance’s corridor, eyes burning with anger and panic that you knew he had no way of controlling. He was always a hothead.

“I-I-“

“I’m having the meeting with her, Taeyong. Don’t bother. You have two minutes.” Doyoung spoke, voice fading as he continued down the hall to the small office he typically frequented to buy and sell shipment for Nio’s personal and professional use.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you grabbed Taeyong’s hands, eyes wide and teary as you tried to plead with him to save you.

“You went off where we couldn’t see you and didn’t even complete the mission. You could have been dead by now.”

“I know and you can punish however you want but, Taeyong, Doyoung is pissed, and I don’t know what to do. He already slapped me, now he’s not even speaking to me,”

“He never talks to you.”

“He does sometimes, when he wants to be a sarcastic asshole! But, please, Taeyong, talk to him. Calm him down so he doesn’t hurt me again.” You tried to use a soft voice, hoping to strike a sympathetic nerve in the doe-eyed man.

“(Y/n/n),” Taeyong sighed, cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him.

“You fucked up and made Doyoung do something he’s sworn to himself and us that he’d never do. His anger is justified. But I’ll be there for you whenever you’re in danger, whether it’d be an enemy or anyone living in this house, I’ll never let you get hurt.” He gave a warm smile, your lips curling to mimic his.

“But not tonight. You put us all at risk as you need to face the consequences.”

“Taeyong!”

“I’ll visit you in the infirmary later tonight.” You whimpered in fear as he kissed the crown of your head and pushed you in the direction of the office, heels clicking against the white marble floor as you stumbled to what might be your imminent doom.

You could taste blood in your mouth from the way you bit down on your tongue to ease your anxiety, your once statue-like body moving forward with caution although the chilly air was urging you to retreat. You couldn’t turn back because Taeyong would just escort you to Doyoung himself but if you went straight to Doyoung, who knows what he’d do. You couldn’t even take a second to cry over your dilemma once you noticed the dark brown mahogany door. The office was soundproof, something you both loved and hated. Whatever Doyoung wanted to scream at you would go unheard by the men possibly showering and preparing for bed after a somewhat successful evening, but then they wouldn’t hear you scream for help. It reminded you of earlier tonight, making the situation a bit more lighthearted until you realized you could’ve died then and would possibly die now.

“Oh god,” You breathed out in a whisper, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath as your hand gripped the steel doorknob, turning it and entering the spacious and organized room.

“Doyoung.” You spoke lowly, shutting the door behind you but refusing to move any closer to him as he sat with an unrecognizable file before him.

“July of 2016, you were assigned to deliver a new batch of amphetamines to Xu Minghao who ran the Chinese operations of Sebong. Instead of cooperating with Weishen, AKA the Chinese sector of your own team, you thought doing the drop off yourself would be fine, only to let your guard down and let it slip that you were in Nio’s which promptly lead to you not only being ambushed, but Sicheng jumping in to save you and being shot in the lower back in the process.” He said blandly, flipping over the page to yet another as you swallowed hard at the memory, accidentally mentioning Haechan’s name and revealing you weren’t just a middle man in their operation but a direct asset, and Winwin payed the price for your stupidity.

“I remember just fine, but-“

“February of 2017, you knowingly entered enemy territory in Kyoto without alerting Yuta who, as you’ve always known, is in charge of our Japanese affairs. He has people over there for a reason, to handle the shit we can’t while we’re in Seoul. But you waltz over there and initiate a gang war that has only now been resolved.” He said, voice growing in annoyance and animosity that was a complete 180 from his once emotionless tone, your voice caught in your throat as you also remembered that day. You were on vacation and thought it’d be fine as long as you went in some disguise, but you were too well known and the fact you couldn’t speak Japanese only made it worse. You even remembered how Yuta refused to talk to you for months as he traveled constantly to fix your mistake.

“I-I know I fucked up that time but I tried to explain and I-“

“And that brings us to tonight! You had to stay in the spotlight with the man threatening not only your life but everyone you know in Nio’s and neighboring groups, and lead him back to the apartment we set up for you for a simple and quick execution, but you decide to go further into his mansion, expose yourself to him, and allow him to nearly murder you with your bare ass out!” His voice was strained as he screamed this time, your eyes watering as he pushed the large leather chair back to stand, making his way around the desk to approach you.

“I’d remind you about what happened in 2013, but I’m sure you’d never forget that.” He said with no emotion once more, your eyes low as you tried to suppress the urge to touch your slightly sunken head. Your our only job was to shoot if you saw someone escaping during an exchange but, instead, you were hit yourself, every medic working hard to keep you from dying and leaving you with a partially shaved head and a new metal plate in your skull.

“But I want you to tell me who saved your ass that time, (Y/n)?” His voice was playful now, emotions changing like an out of control radio station. Sometimes you wondered if he was just as mentally fucked as Taeyong.

You gasped when you felt his hand gripping your face, forcing your head up and back until your eyes met, a fire behind them that made your stomach swirl in fear but enchantment. You almost even forgot about how rough his grip on your jaw was because his hands were so soft, the warmth he let off no longer intimidating but causing you to turn to putty in his hands and wanting to fall against him in comfort and bliss. But the sudden harsh flick to your forehead made you realize he was anything but comforting.

“Stop acting like a touch starved dumbass and answer me. Who the fuck saved you from bleeding out in a filthy warehouse in the middle of fucking Daegu?” He said harshly, your eyes darkening as you tried to keep your composure.

“You did.”

“And you decided that me handling the responsibility of operating on you was some sentimental, heroic act and that from that day forth, you would make it everyone’s job to save you? That it was my job to save you?”

You felt your eyes tearing up again, lip quivering as a sob threatened to escape you and he could only let out a scoff, harshly pulling his hand back as he watched you cry.

“And now you’re crying.”

“I tried to thank you, I tried to apologize for making you save me yet you won’t let me! You slapped me! You’re screaming at me and making me feel bad when I already fucking feel bad. I know I’m fucking up and it’s hard on you guys but I-I just don’t know what to do! I’m tired and sick of having to live every second of my life knowing there is no one in this world I can trust and that I can never leave and that’s all I want, Doyoung! I just want to leave and be a normal person.”

The silence between you was deafening, almost loud in a way, but it was allowing you both to take in the words you said. You could see the look of conflict and annoyance on his face through your tears, a glimmer of what you both hoped and feared was sadness in his eyes as he rolled them to look anywhere but you. And what Doyoung saw of you was a breeding ground of trauma and dysfunction.

You were no different from anyone there, your life story was so similar to most of theirs that no one had time to pity you. You joined Nio’s when you were only 10, hair matted and filthy like the clothes you wore, hands stained red with blood and a look in your eyes that screamed frustration but hopelessness. You were the perfect tool for his father and it was sad watching yet another lost soul fall into this lifestyle. But you proved to be so capable of yourself, strong and competent but, after the death of his father, something in you changed. You were emotional, distracted, constantly agreeing to do task but never fully connecting mentally. He even noticed you screaming in the middle of the night from nightmares. Whether you remembered or not, you and Doyoung were close, so close it managed to shift the atmosphere of Nio’s into something enjoyable and worthy of being part of, but he knew it wasn’t good for you to stay. Not for any of you. So he gave you a chance to leave, a chance to live your life the way you had always told him you wanted, but you didn’t take it. Your reason? Taeyong. You never explained why he was the reason you were staying but the way you constantly clung to their leader like you were his lapdog was all the clarification that he needed. For Doyoung, the closeness you shared and the desire you both had of living normal lives was nothing compared to the same greed for power you shared with Taeyong. So he stopped trying to save you, stopped focusing on how to help you preserve what little of your sanity was left until now. Seeing you at your breaking point made it clear to him that even if this life would follow you forever, letting you go was better than having everyone killed from your mistakes. And, if you left, whatever problems haunted you would be yours to face alone, and he was fine with that.

“You will never be a normal person. And whatever life you choose to live will be as stressful as this one because you’ll spend every second looking over your shoulder wondering who’s out to get you. But, you’re dead weight now, and it’s unfair we’re the ones that have to keep carrying you. I don’t care when or where you go, just leave.” His tone was harsh and cold, the relief you felt at his words not enough to ease the pressure in your chest.

Doyoung’s no longer had power to make these decisions once Taeyong was appointed as leader, so you knew without the boss’ approval his word meant nothing. But, if you had the chance to run, why not take it? Maybe for one day, you could be free, probably take the time you needed to hide away from Nio’s and the crime world you knew all too well. You had no set plan, but sticking around trying to making one would do you no good.

“T-thank you. Thank you for everything.” You said with a small voice and deep bow, Doyoung not bothering to look at you as you hurriedly exited the room to head to yours and pack any belongings you needed for your new life.

You knew this life was hard to leave yet lived with the ignorant optimism that there was always some escape and no turning back. Unfortunately for you, you were simply a butterfly living in an airtight jar and, no matter where you turned, the air you needed was nowhere to be found and, tonight, was the beginning of your suffocation.

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ratonnhhaketon · 4 years

Text

It’s Always Been You

Read on Ao3

Summary: Bloodhound and the reader keep getting pitted against each other in the arena, thanks to the jerks in the Apex Games Commission. After one particular, mentally-tolling match for Y/N, they agree that they've had enough. Bloodhound has had enough, and shows them just how much they mean to them with one simple action.

TW: Canon-typical violence (depictions of shooting/death in the Apex Games), Fluff

A/N: I really wanted to make the reader gender neutral but I hope using they/them for two characters isn’t too confusing. Enjoy!!

Being in a relationship with a coworker is never advised, no matter what field you work in. But, when your line of work is to battle to the death in an arena regularly, it’s certainly not advised.

However, these rules didn’t seem to apply to Y/N and Bloodhound. They both aimed to keep their relationship private at first, PDA consisting of heartfelt glances to each other in group meetings or the occasional hand holding under tables, nothing more. But, after a legends-exclusive trip to the Paradise Lounge where Y/N may or may not have had a little too much to drink and started to get touchy-feely, the secret was practically out. Somehow the Apex Games Commission got word of the relationship and decided that “two lovers having to battle it out” was better for keeping views up, so they were rarely placed on the same team. Today’s game was no exception.

The team was cleaning up after a run in with a squad by the building overlooking Bunker. A care package had landed not too far from where they were looting and Y/N barely even heard Octane announce he was going to check it out before he sprinted off down the hill.

“Kraber here!” His voice cracked over the comms.

Y/N’s head snapped up and called out a “Dibs!” over the comms before they even started moving. They slid the whole way down the hill, instinctively dropping their empty Sentinel and exchanging it for the legendary weapon before retreating back up the hill and into the safety of the building. They ducked into a corner by the open window in the building and equipped the weapon, almost smiling at the oh so familiar feeling of the sniper in their hands.

They looked over the arena around them, scanning the hills and valleys for a target. Gunfire stirred up on the hill across the small river from them. Y/N adjusted their grip on the weapon and started mumbling numbers out loud to themself, their brain working overtime to calculate the correct trajectory for a clean kill. 400 meters, plus damage drop-off…

A single shot rang out, curving through the air and going straight through the enemy’s skull.

Attention: new kill leader appointed.

Bloodhound’s masked eyes jumped from their hiding spot under a building up to the screens hanging from Bunker’s entrance to their left and were met with Y/N’s banner, featuring them looking menacingly at the camera with their prized purple Kraber, hanging to announce their new status. They pulled themself away and returned to shielding back up to return to the fight their teammates were still dealing with.

Y/N, of course, paid the announcement no mind as they continued to scan over the area in search of their next target. What they didn’t expect was to be met with a familiar set of red goggles hiding quite far from them. Their target was distracted and in perfect view for a clean headshot, but something inside made them hesitate to pull the trigger. Instead they just looked on as Bloodhound finished shielding up and initiated their ultimate ability, watching their goggles glow a bright red before they ran into battle. Y/N waited in their perch as Bloodhound’s ultimate drained while they took out a few enemies and their goggles returned to their regular hazey maroon. As they ducked down to revive a teammate, the sniper lined up another shot- this time aiming for the chest so as to only down them.

Just as the third member of their team was pulled to their feet, a single bullet flew through the air and directly into what was left of Bloodhound’s body shield, making them fall to their knees. Upon seeing them fall, Octane stimmed and sprinted down the hill to finish off the teams that were fighting. Y/N and the third member of their team, a random newbie that neither of the legends had met before, followed suit.

The trio had managed to successfully third-party both squads that were fighting, but only one had fully died and dropped their death boxes. It was clear that one member of the remaining team had managed to snag a self-revive knockdown shield, and Y/N knew exactly who it was. Octane and the newbie on their team shared a knowing glance as they approached Bloodhound, who had tried to crawl away from the fight in an attempt to get themself back on their feet.

Y/N kneeled down to be eye-level with their significant other. Their lips curled into a sad smile as they said, “Hello, my love.”

Bloodhound let out a grunt of pain as they clutched at their side. “A beautiful shot, elskan. It is truly an honor to fall by your hand.”

Y/N pulled their small knife from its sheath on their belt and dug it into their opponent’s abdomen. As they pulled it from their body, Bloodhound, along with their teammates, all instantly dropped their death boxes. Y/N stood up as the announcer’s voice boomed through the arena’s speakers.

Attention: A winner has been appointed.

Several drones began to circle the team while Octane and the third member celebrated, with Y/N showing their excitement with a slight smile.

These are your Apex Champions.

~~~~~

After the game had concluded and the legends were picked up by the dropship, Y/N made a beeline to the infirmary wing. There was a nurse exiting Bloodhound’s room, who graciously left the door ajar when she saw that day’s Champion approaching. They gave the nurse a nod and smile of appreciation before entering the room and softly shutting the door.

“Hey stranger,” they said quietly to not disturb the hunter, even though they inevitably knew they were approaching. “You feeling okay?”

Bloodhound sat up in the bed, “Just sore, but I vill be fine.” Y/N sat down in the chair next to the bed and scooted it to be a bit closer. “I am very proud of you, elskan min. You have shown much strength in the arena today.” Bloodhound’s gloved hand extended forward and lightly gripped their hand, intertwining their fingers.

Y/n brought their hands up to their lips and pressed a soft kiss to Bloodhound’s knuckles. “I just wish..” they began to say before looking at their feet and sighing. “I hate that they keep splitting us up. I hate having to finish you off instead of fighting by your side.”

A pained groan next to them caused their head to shoot back up and see their significant other moving to sit facing towards them with their legs off of the bed. They watched as the hunter pulled their hand away to remove their gloves before placing both of their hands around Y/N’s face. Their palms were cold, something they had realized must have been a result of the cooling accident they had been told about, but it was a comforting feeling. A grounding feeling.

“I have spoken with Ajay and Natalie, and they both believe ve should speak with the Games Commission. If they do not stop treating us like this I vill stop participating in the games.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Blooth, no, don’t say that. I know how much these games mean to you, don’t make me be the reason you quit.”

Bloodhound glanced quickly to the door, making sure it was securely shut, and back at their beloved sitting in front of them. They wordlessly pulled their hands back from their face and up to their helmet, pulling it up and setting it on the clean bedding next to them. Next were their goggles and hood, which came off in one simultaneous and swift motion. Soft red curls that were intricately braided out of their face with an undercut that desperately needed shaved were exposed to the world and Y/N sat stunned. Their eyes were a delicate blue that almost seemed grey, with a scar slicing through the left eyebrow.

A small hiss brought Y/N back from their thoughts of admiration as Bloodhound unhinged the clips on their respirator. It was last to fall on the bed with the rest of their equipment, and they sat there feeling as exposed as the day they were born.

Y/N had heard the story of the cooling accident, as they had always wondered why their beloved’s body temperature felt so unnaturally low, but they never imagined it would leave scars on their face. Faded, light blue lighting bolts shot across their face, extending from their mouth and nose area. It looked almost like veins, or tree branches and the roots were their respiratory system.

Many things had been communicated without words. Undying amounts of love and a trust that took years of the legends knowing each other to gain. They had shown a side of themself that even the doctors and nurses on the ship had not seen yet, proving that Y/N meant more to them than any title or win in the games ever could.

“Bloothundr,” they said breathlessly, barely above a whisper. They raised a hand towards their face but pulled back hesitantly, not wanting to make the hunter uncomfortable. Bloodhound nodded silently, and they cupped their hands around their cheeks. A soft thumb lightly traced a scar that extended from the corner of their lip back towards their hairline.

“Y/N,” they spoke up, looking at the person seated in front of them with nothing but adoration in their eyes. “I love you. The games do not matter, as long as you vill be by my side.”

They leaned in, gently resting their foreheads together and smiled with tears in their eyes.“I love you too, Blooth. Always.”

#myworks #my posts #text #writing #bloodhound x reader #apex legends imagines #apex legends x reader #bloodhound #bloodhound apex legends #apex legends

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spicyspencerreid · 4 years

Text

Sick Nights

A Timothée Chalamet Imagine

Request: Firstly, I ABSOLUTELY LOVE your work. I was wondering if you could do an imagine where y/n wakes up in the middle of the night sick and Timmy takes care of y/n and rubs their back and/or plays with their hair until they fall back to sleep

To Anon: Thank you!!!! And yes I can, I love this idea and I’ve been needing some more soft!Timmy in my life.

Female!Reader, Sick!Reader//WC: 1056//Warnings: none besides sickness: no vomit, just headache and sore throat with stuffed nose. (Oh and lack of proofreading as usual)

Summary// Y/n wakes up in the middle of the night sick and Timmy comforts her and helps her fall asleep.

Not my gif: Enjoy!!!!!!!

You woke up in Timothée’s arms with a pounding headache and sharp pains coming from your throat. You were sweating, despite the fact you were only wearing a sports bra and sweatpants, but you still felt cold. One of your friends had strep last week, and you’d thought you avoided it, but your throat was now telling you otherwise. You delicately picked up his arm, knowing if he woke up it would take him forever to fall back asleep. Rolling yourself away from him, you checked the time on the alarm clock: two am, of course, only four hours until you had to get up for work.

You slowly and silently opened the bedroom door then closed it lightly behind you, walking to the kitchen in desperate search of Advil. You searched through cabinets in the dark--not wanting light to wake up Timothée--before giving up, just pouring yourself a glass of water. You took a sip then took a deep breath in, realizing how little air was going through your nose. You decided to restart your search for Advil. While making your way back over to the cabinet, you heard the sound of your bedroom door opening. You sighed as you felt cold hands wrap around your waist, eventually resting on your exposed stomach.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he’d been working on a new movie lately, which was a lot of late nights on set and lost sleep, the last thing you wanted was to interrupt his sleep.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he rested his head on your shoulder before gently kissing it, “what’re you doing awake, beautiful.”

“I don’t feel good,” you leaned back into him a little bit.

“Cramps?” He asked, as he loosened his grip on you at your words, almost nervous to put too much weight on your stomach. He usually knew the schedule of your cycle, almost positive your period wasn’t supposed to come for another week, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he lost track of the days.

“My head’s pounding and my throat’s on fire.” You shook your head, a little too hard, causing a slight head rush in your sensitive skull making your knees weaken. He reacted quickly, tightening his hold on you once again.

“You’re burning up beautiful,” he used one of his hands to feel your forehead and then returned it to your stomach. You rested your head on the cool counter under your cabinet after feeling blood rush to your head. Timothée laid his head on your back, rubbing little circles on your stomach, “do you think you have strep?” You nodded. He moved your hair out of the way and started to leave a trail of kisses up your exposed shoulder to right behind your ear, “did you take any medicine?” He lowered his voice now, trying not to irritate your headache.

“No, I was looking for Advil, but I couldn’t find any,” you lifted your head up from the counter, motioning to the open kitchen cabinet above you.

“Well,” He removed his hands from your waist to reach above you and close the cabinet doors, “that might be because the Advil is with the medicine...in the medicine cabinet,” he giggled as he put his hands back on your waist, turning you around so you were facing him. You smiled weakly and rested your head in his chest, his arms quickly wrapping around you once again. You were exhausted, and the pain really wasn’t helping. Timothée reached one hand up to lightly massage your head and you sighed as his cold fingers slowly cooled you down.

“You should really go back to sleep, don’t you have to get up in a couple hours?” He smiled, his fingers continuing to cool you down. That was just like you, being in your current state and still worried about him.

“Mmn no, I’m off for the next couple of days, and you...” he pulled back to kiss your forehead, “are calling in sick tomorrow.”

“No, Timmy, I can’t, I have a deadline coming up-” on any other day you might have jumped at the chance to stay home from work, but you were approaching a crucial deadline that had been sucking up all of your time recently.

“And you have ten very capable people working under you that can cover you for one day,” you opened your mouth to speak again, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, “Y/n, added stress is only going to make you sicker, you’re staying home.”

“Okay,” You caved. He was right, you had been stressed, probably why being sick was hitting you as hard as it was right now.

“Go back to bed, I’m gonna get you some Advil, okay?” You nodded and made your way to your bed, laying on Timmy’s side. It was your favorite place to be when you were extremely tired or when he was away. It was warm and it smelled like him, slightly indented more than your side. You laid there for a moment before he came back in with a couple pills and a mug. You sat up and he kneeled down next to you. You took the pills and pointed to the mug.

“Tea?” He nodded, handing it to you, “With extra hone-”

“Honey, yes, am unholy amount actually,” he laughed, knowing your sweet tooth, you took a sip of the hot drink, lightly soothing your throat. He climbed over to your side of the bed and sat up next to you, putting his arm around you and rubbing your side, “Why don’t we watch a movie,”

“No, you should get some sleep, it’s really late”

“I’m fully awake at this point, let’s try to get you,” he leaned over and kissed your nose, “to sleep.” You finished your tea, your head still hurting. Deciding it would be easier to fall asleep to, you settled on watching an old Disney show instead of a movie, eventually picking Lizzie McGuire. You laid down so you were now comfortably sat under his arm. He kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back, “Feeling any better?”

“A little,” you sighed into him, finally closing your eyes, the faint sounds of the tv mixed with Timothée’s soft hands on your back slowly lulling you to sleep.

Sorry this was so short!! But i hope you liked it!! Let me know :)

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #timothée smut #timothée x reader #timothee fanfic #timothée chamalet #timothée hal chalamet #timothee icons #timothee x reader #timothee’s instagram #timothee red carpet #timothee poll #timothee

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lnterjection · 3 years

Text

gods of red skies (of this world to comprise)

Based on @quaranmine‘s post “that meme where the FBI shows up at your house because you know too much except it’s DreamXD and Ranboo being the only person who knows what an end portal is,” but I make it angsty.

-----

“And here’s our table,” Phil said, and Ranboo’s jaw dropped in such standard enderman fashion he would have been ashamed, if he weren’t so preoccupied with the sight in front of him.

Slowly, he took a step forward. Leaned over and traced a finger across the pale, bumpy endstone, its tiny craters and rivers of raised ridges. It had been so long since he felt endstone beneath his skin.

The empty sockets stare back into him, deep cyans and swirls of black. You’re here, they seem to whisper. We’ve missed you.

“It’s a cool table, but I think this is a bit of an overreaction,” he heard Techno whisper behind him. “Phil, what do we - uh...”

“Do you - do you know what that is?” Ranboo asked. He struggled to keep the awe from his voice.

Phil glanced over his shoulders with a bewildered expression. “No?” he said, wings slowly fanning out. “What do you mean?”

“It’s-” Ranboo hesitated, taking a step back. Should he tell them? Should - should anyone in this cursed world have that sort of power? Wouldn’t that lead to more sides, more pointless statuses of power to fight over?

He made a split second decision.

“Um, nevermind,” he said. “I forgot.”

The lie came so easily. Ranboo internally winced at how familiar his muscles were with the phrase.

Techno eyes him, pupils narrowing, but he doesn’t comment. Phil gives them both a cheery smile and claps his hands in a neat, smooth motion, effectively shutting down the line of conversation.

“So!” he said. “Anarchy!”

Ranboo nodded along, tried not to be too weird (or well, weirder than he must already seem to them), and that was that.

Everything was freezing - his crystalized bed that felt more like ice than wool, his creaking, ramshackle roof with scatterings of icicles that dripped frost and cold, the way every muscle of his body felt like it was contracting into a ball of sharp diamond.

Ranboo couldn’t complain, though. He had a place to live. He was welcome here, which was so much more than what he deserved after everything he’s done.

He wasn’t going to freeze to death. Worse case scenario, he takes his blanket and hides under his bed. He’ll be fine. Fine.

His chattering teeth and rapidly shivering body certainly seemed to disagree with him.

Ranboo tried to draw in a clattering breath. The winds picked up, slicing every exposed inch of skin with an unforgiving glacier.

At least it’s not snowing, he thought weakly.

And then, through the screeching winds and enveloping blindness of night, he heard it.

There’s something crunching, outside the fences that made up his home. Ranboo blinked slowly, wondering if he’s finally gone off the deep end. If that last tether to sanity which his mind so desperately clung to was finally slipping away, and this was the moment he succumbed to that relentless war of the mind, never to resurface again.

For a terrible, traitorous moment, Ranboo hoped that it was Phil or Techno, here to invite him into their house of warmth, a sign of friendship or at least care, after he’d been invited into their anarchist group (which wasn’t taking sides, they just didn’t want to be ruled, was that so bad?).

“Not much of a house, is it?”

And like an arrow to his heart, that hope was promptly smashed to pieces.

“Shut up” Ranboo gritted out to the figure that was no doubt leering over him with that stupid smily mask and stupid smug voice. “You’re just jealous you don’t even have one.”

His mind scrambled around desperately as he suppressed a terrified scream. Is this his mind again? But that voice doesn’t show up outside the panic room, or does it? What does he know, really?

Was this actually Dream, here to kill him? To take revenge on for destroying the community house? Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to drag his face away from the swath of blankets that he was clinging to, but he could hear the whine of the fence gates swinging. Something snapping shut in place.

Dream was definitely here, unless Ranboo had, indeed, well and truly lost it. Which was a likely possibility.

Dream, what was Dream doing all the way out here? And why now, of all times, did Ranboo decide to finally grow a spine?

Well, either he was hallucinating big time, or Dream was here to kill him. Either way, it’s not like anything he did will matter.

“I have a house,” Dream said, sounding mildly affronted. “Now, this pathetic excuse of a cattle pen certainly can’t be called one.”

“Just shut up and kill me already, Dream,” Ranboo yelled. His voice was muffled and thrown about by the wind, but it echoed through his bones nonetheless, and this was gratifying in some horrifying way because either way it’s not like what he’ll say will make any difference. “What, are you here to finally gloat over me too? Found a different target than Tommy, huh? Just can’t find a better use of your time than torturing teenagers-”

“What? Woah, I am not Dream,” Dream said, and Ranboo took a moment to process this information.

“What?”

He finally looks up, squinting through the darkness and the biting way the winds attacked his eyes.

The person that had his arms cross in front of him looked like a carbon copy of Dream, only with a pale blue hoodie instead of the usual lime green one.

“Just because you’ve put on a different outfit doesn’t mean you’ve changed who you are,” Ranboo snapped through chatters. “Fuck off or kill me, Dream. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“I told you, I’m not Dream,” was the reply. “Check your communicator.”

Ranboo, slowly, drew out the device and glanced at the pale, glowing screen.

DreamXD whispers to you: I’m here.

“Really reassuring,” Ranboo said.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the nice ones?” ‘DreamXD’ asked. “I thought you had manners, or something like that.”

“Since when have manners ever helped me?” Ranboo bites, suddenly feeling something sullen draw his stomach down. Bittering clung to every word. “It’s like nothing around here gets done without violence.”

“That’s not my problem.” DreamXD made some shrugging motion, slowly turning his shoulders in an unsteady fashion like he was just getting used to moving his body. “I’m just here to...”

Ranboo flinched as a glimmering stick appeared in DreamXD’s hand. He recognized the telltale sheen of glowing enchantments, but that shouldn't be possible because you can’t enchant sticks.

Dream, or DreamXD, or Not Dream, whatever the fuck he was - waved his glowing stick above him in what Ranboo assumed was supposed to be a menacing manner. He looked mostly like a deranged serial killer, which was, concerningly, also an apt description for the actual Dream.

“I need to make an alteration to your book,” he said. “Hand it over.”

Ranboo stared at him for a long, drawn moment. His mind was blank, unresponsive, why would he want the memory book-

And then, his memory book was in the other entity’s hands, and Ranboo began yelling again.

“Give it back!” He lunged forward, but DreamXD teleported to the side and slammed his fist down on Ranboo’s back. He hit a faceful of snow and dirt, and a pained whine escaped his throat as the heel of a boot dug into his neck.

Everything hurt. His back is now throbbing. Ranboo suppressed a sob as he heard the telltale sound of pages flapping wildly in the wind - and then the sound of ripping paper, grating against every bone of his body.

Again - no, this couldn’t be happening again, why is this happening again, he was so careful and he hadn’t done anything and surely he had been good this time, hadn’t he?

His mind only just seemed to process what was happening. His memory book - his memory - was being stolen, torn, violated yet again and this time Ranboo could do nothing but listen and cry into the cold, gritty dirt while his neck is on the verge of snapping and what did he do?

He just wanted peace. He just wanted to be loved - not even loved, to just be left alone. To live without constant fear of pain or death or someone destroying everything he held dear. Was that so much to ask for?

Yes, a part of his mind whispered. You blew up the community house. You betrayed L’Manberg. You didn’t even have the spine to tell Techno and Phil, your new allies, what the end portal is. They welcome you onto their land and group and you repay them with more hidden secrets? How else will you betray everyone?

Everything part of him was burning. Ranboo wanted to slice and strip off all his skin, to submerge himself in freezing cold water and close his eyes and not have to worry about any of this anymore and why did he want all of that so much-

“There we go,” the voice above him suddenly said, and Ranboo made a choked noise as something hard kicked deep into his side. He tumbled across the floor with a few soft crunches before going limp, body splayed at unnatural angles that twisted knots around all his muscles. His throat felt more parched than desert sands, scraped raw and bloody.

Something thudded in front of him, and Ranboo somehow had the strength to claw himself over through a filmy, blotched vision and drag his memory book back into his embrace. There were pages missing, ripped from the spine in jagged chunks like an unfinished puzzle shredded apart from frustration.

He choked again as a hand closed around his neck and dragged him up and something sharp and flaming jabbed into his chest.

A coarse sleeve muffled his wailing scream.

This pain was worse, so much worse, worse than the wither skulls and being dunked in water and all the stabs and slices he’s ever endured combined, his insides were burning and burning and on fire and covered in lava and Ranboo thought for a few fleeting moment that he would combust into sheer nothingness and he wanted to forget, forget why am I still here forget everything please I don’t want to be here-

“There we go,” the voice, that Dream voice, said, and it sounded so sickeningly like Dream but also not at all, because whereas Dream‘s voice always held a demeaning smugness about him this one had nothing but cold indifference, and Ranboo wasn’t sure which was worse but he couldn’t focus to think anyway because his entire world was red and white and burning and what the fuck was that stick enchanted with-

At some point, the pressure stopped. It faded away increments, and all Ranboo could comprehend was that eventually, as his mind flopped away from the shelter of nothingness, he was on the ground again and Dream was above him and everything was horribly, horribly silent.

Why, he wanted to scream again to the howling winds, but his throat was spent and dead and he couldn’t move or do anything except lie there and spasm erratically like a dying animal with its guts already pooling across the stiff, blue grass.

What did I do why is this happening please I’m so sorry I’m so sorry it’s all my fault please stop I don’t want to die-

“Let this be a warning,” the voice said in a smooth, terribly indifferent way. “If you write down what happened here, or about that end portal, I assure you that things will get much, much worse. And if you tell anyone, anyone else even a hint of what that portal is-”

Ranboo couldn’t even flinch as something cold pressed against his throat, as much as his mind leaped at the feeling.

“I guarantee you will never see the light of day again.”

Was this what it had all been about? The portal? That he was being punished for his origins after all, for having the - the knowledge itself? For having the power to utilize it, even if he never would?

“You really are Dream, aren’t you,” Ranboo rasped. He creaked his neck up to stare blankly into that pearly white mask. Every part of him, from his screaming body to his scattered, twisting thoughts felt weighted with magma, smoldering in its own ruins.

Dream shrugged, a bit faster this time, and disappeared in a shower of flaking purple particles that drifted around like the snow that had, during some part of all this, began to fall.

His eyes stung. His entire face was covered in tears, sharp daggers flicking the skin across with every movement. Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to care. He cradled his cold, crumpled memory book to his chest and knew that, as much as he hoped it was, this was not just a nightmare. Not in a world like this.

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Read on Ao3 here.

#ranboo #dream #dream smp #dreamxd #technoblade #philza #dream smp fanfiction #fanfiction #dsmp #dsmp lore #minecraft #mcyt #interject fanfic

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icipersona5-pricefamily · 3 years

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Who are your Top 5 fave Phantom Thieves of Hearts?

It could be just one or two, but sometimes you can't help it, but to love all of them. But there's always a fave or two and sadly a dislike. But let's focus on the top faves. Honestly for me... it's hard to chose. I mean I have my two faves, but do I have my top 5 faves? 🤔 Hmm... well, most do share the same spots... And please don't be mad at choices! 🙏 We all can't like the same the thing or person after all. Anyway! I will expose my top 5 and be warn, there are spoilers, so I advise you not to look at the list until you played the games or seen the walk through. If you like to spoil yourself, go ahead....

5. Sophia/Sophie. Why her? Well, she's adorable and an AI who has a Persona. She's not the first technology thing to have one, of course. But I like her plot and how she's trying to learn what a heart is. She has YoYo as her weapon which is cool and despite many let downs, she had learn from her teammates and understand what it means to be a Phantom Thief of Hearts. As the story goes, she was slowly losing her robot like voice and to find out how she was created! I like it! I'm gonna miss her...

4. Futaba Sakura/Oracle (Navi in Japan). Why? I just like her personalities and how she's a great hacker while trying to be outgoing. (You can do it, Futaba!). She's funny and I love her siblings relationship with Ren/MC and Yusuke. Her past was so sad and I just wanna hug her. I am glad she has an adopted dad like Sojiro and how she was willing to change her heart to save him. I'm really glad in Royal she has her victory pose after the all out attack. I just wish she'd had one in Strikers when things are looking bad, she actives her showtime to fully heal the HP and SP. PS, I love her UFO like Persona!!

3. Yusuke Kitagawa/Fox. I love this dork! He is beautiful, such a soul of an artist and kinda gullible in most things. He's a sweetie and never miss an opportunity to art. What happened to him in the past and in P5, I wanna protect him. I'm glad the Phantom Thieves came in to help and he becomes one. His relationship with Futaba is funny. They're like siblings to each other (Sorry to those who shipped them!). And he's sort of the first for Futaba to interact with. I do worry about his money situation, but he seems to be doing okay. I really wish Atlus added that you could date guys, I mean they made you date older women, but not a guy at close age to? O.o Anyway, Yusuke is a funny and sweet guy, kinda naive but a good guy. Kudos to the voice actors, both English and Japanese.

2. Morgana/Mona & Ryuji Sakamoto/Skull. Eh? Two?! Hey, it's hard to chose, okay? =3= Now why? Let's start with Morgana... He's a talking cat and he's adorable! (Morgana: I'm NOT a cat) Hehe... Anyway! He's like a mascot yet he's strong and wise in most situations. Despite being a cat in the real world, he still hangouts with the team to join in the fun. I love how he's smitten over Ann yet acts like a gentleman (sometimes) towards her and the fact he can become a bus (and helicopter in Royal) is awesome! I feel bad about when Morgana started to feel useless to the team and no one notice it until Haru appears as a thief. But I am glad he'd came back and to learn his past, wow! I nearly cried at the end of P5. I kinda wish he a human form like Teddie, but at least he kinda did in Royal. And I really wish his cat sprite has more reactions and stuff. The fact his Persona is Zorro... pfft X3c It's like Puss in Boots in Shrek! Now, Ryuji... He's such a good boy with a temper, but he has reasons why. Despite that, he's a good friend and never abandons his friends. Thanks to the MC, he slowly becomes who he should be and I'd a funny guy. I feel bad that his track team treated badly because of what happened and I kinda get it, but still... Anyway! He's like the loyal friend who got your back and is willing to stand up for his friends, even his life to save them. He even didn't judge the MC and becomes his first friend of Shujin Academy. Now, why both on the top fave 2? Well, they always bicker at each other yet they kinda get along sometimes. They both are close to the MC and they're funny like Yosuke and Teddie in P4. Glad their relationship had grew in Strikers and the fact that they are not afraid to blunt insults to each other. At least they're good friends.

Now, the top most fave(s), drum roll please........................

1. Ren Amamiya/Akira Kurusu/Joker & Zenkichi Hasegawa/Wolf. Again another spot is share! And before Strikers, Joker is still my top fave then Zenkichi came in, it's a tied. Let's start with Ren. Ren is handsome! He's cool and mysterious! The plot for him is perfect and how his Persona is Arsene is even more perfect. The background of his shows how hard life is, despite doing something good, he get punish in the end? That's bull crap and everyone treated him like he's a bad boy when he's not. Thankfully, he made friends and people around soon learns he's not a bad boy at all. Ren is charmer and he's still the guy who is willing to help those in need, of course that's up to the player. I do wish in Strikers that it kinda shown his distrust and trauma of the police. I would protect him and make any cops stay a safe distance from him. (Sorry Zenkichi) At least he kinda got his life back thanks to his friends and allies. Did I mention I like him? Seriously I do! 🥰 He's handsome and his smile... Sorry! Now, Zenkichi... This guy is a goof ball, the only adult of Phantom Thieves of Hearts and is a cop! Well, PubSec. He's like Dojima and Sojiro in one, sort of. At first, I did distrust due to he's a cop and all, plus you know in P4 and with Goro. I wasn't sure about him until I had watch the walk through and when first seeing him and when he'd laughed, I thought 'I might like this guy, but let's wait and see'. Now, I thought he would be a comic relief which he sort of is while still not trusting him until we learn he's a dad and how he'd lost his wife which 'Wait! He's a dad and had a wife who was killed in hit and run? Dojima 2?!' OwO I was surprised. Of course, not exactly the same, but similar plot. We get to learn about his past, his relationship with his daughter and why he was using the Phantom Thieves for such case. I start to feel bad for him and his daughter, heck even the Phantom Thieves felt bad. At some point, I did started to like him and Zenkichi was starting to bond with them and they even started to think as him part of the team. Once Zenkichi reveals why he'd hadn't caught the killer, I truly feel bad and understand why he let the killer go. Then boom! He has a Persona that fits him perfectly and such a cool Phantom Thief attire! 😳 That's when I fallen for him 'Dang it! First Joker now him!' He became like a dad of the team, always reminded them that despite what happened to the Monarch, it's still wrong what they're doing now. Despite how old he is (He's in his 40s) he can still fight and is cool! Still a goof ball good looking guy. Now, why both on the same spot? .....I love both them equally! 😍 They're both cool, good looking and those smirks... How dare Atlus did this to me?! I love their Personas. I wish we could see them having bonding moments though. *clears throat* Anyway. Because how I like them, as always I had created OCs to be with them. Hehe 😅

Now, for the rest of Phantom Thieves of Hearts. I do love them all, truly. Makoto is cool and she's the mom of the group. Ann is good friend to hangout, plus she's caring about others who had suffered. Haru is a sweetie who has scary side to her (Do not let her drive). Goro is someone that you wish he had saved sooner and yes I did hate him but I feel bad for what happened to him. Sumire, I wasn't sure about we had learn her background and wow! What a twist. I did call her a hypocrite while I can see why she thought that the people don't help themselves when reality the thieves gives courage and they done something to move on with some help, unlike what she did but I get it and I do like her persona.

Who would I want to be part of the team? Hmm... Hifumi since she was gonna be part of the team, but sadly that was cut off. She would've been better as a thief. Maybe Mishima, maybe! Sojiro... What?! It would've been cool, although he isn't young as he use to be, still. Lastly Maruki. I am surprised he doesn't count to be part of the team, but I guess it's because his Persona was kinda controlling him (I can't remember 😅) and didn't join the team. He would've been a neat addition to team, being a dad/uncle of the group. I feel bad for the guy and I get why did all that yet what about him? Doesn't he deserve to be happy to? Also... what happened to his girlfriend after the Metaverse vanishes in Royal? Anyway, he still like a sweet guy to me and I kinda wish Royal was mentioned in Strikers, but Strikers is technically a sequel/spin off to P5 since Strikers was part of P5, but it was too long and got cut. Hence of no mentioning of Royal.

Whew! Anyway! No hate on this, not everyone agrees with my choices and it's different from everyone opinions. But what about you guys? Got top faves and wish who would've been part of the team??

#persona 5 #persona 5 scramble #p5s #p5s spoilers #persona 5: strikers #p5 #sophia (persona 5)#futaba sakura #zenkichi hasegawa #yusuke kitagawa #morgana #ryuji sakamoto #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #phantom thieves #p5r #persona 5 royal #p5r spoilers

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finnofamerica · 4 years

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Awful Heart - Dwalin X Reader || Part Three ||

Summary: Being a live engineer for Poor Impulse Control, you usually don’t get a lot of attention. However, playing at seedy bars and the growing popularity of the band has caught the attention of some man - a stalker. With no idea who he is and his notes coming more frequently your production manager thought it’d be safer to hire a bodyguard. (Modern AU)

Word Count: 1,788

Date Posted: 05.01.2020

Note: Y’all I’ve been on a roll with this series that nobody wanted. I am rolling. Rolling. Guys. I can’t.

|| Masterlist || Part Two ||

Dwalin was up early the next morning to make sure that the contract would make its way back to Erebor. Since the tour officially started last night in the Band’s hometown, Dwalin thought it’d be best if he made sure you got home safely last night followed up with a promise to meet you back at your apartment in the morning.

“So you’ve worked at this bar before?” Dwalin asked as he prepared to ride with you to your apartment.

“Yeah, all the time. The owner is an old friend of Aaron’s so he lets us play for a discounted price.” You shrugged.

“So it’d make sense if your stalker was a regular patron then.”

“I really don’t want to talk about that.”

Dwalin shook his head. He could understand why you didn’t want to talk about it, but not talking about it wasn’t going to fix the problem.

As early in the morning as it was, you were awake when he arrived. In fact, you had already packed by the time Dwalin knocked on your door.

“Morning,” Was all you said when you opened the door.

“Morning.” Was all that was returned.

“The bus will be here in fifteen minutes. It’s good that we had the sense to pack everything in last night.” You set your bag down and stretched. Dwalin had to restrain himself from eyeing the sliver of skin that showed just above your pants. Be professional, he chastised himself. He wasn’t a blind man, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t control himself better than a teenage boy.

It was quiet for a long time while you waited for the van to arrive. Your neighbor passed by quietly with his dog, bidding you a good morning.

“You’re sure there’ll be enough room for me?” Dwalin asked, interrupting the quiet of the morning.

“There’s gonna have to be. Aaron hired you along.” You shrugged, then noticing his frown you continued, “We have a big van. You’ll be fine.”

The van in question was actually Josh’s old van. She was sturdy and she’d get you where you wanted to go, but after all these years, she needed a little TLC. You settled into the van with ease, ending up in the middle row while Everett, that ass, laid across the entire back seat. Up in the front passenger seat with the same fluffy blond curls and boyish smile as ever, was Dix.

“Hi, Dwalin right?” He reached a hand out. “I’m James Dixion, though most everyone around here calls me Dix. You can too if you’re cool. I’m the lighting tech. I see you’re already well acquainted with our lovely little Y/n/n.”

Dwalin nodded, letting Dix do most of the talking.

“Driving is Joshua Vaughn, he is our drum tech. This sack of shit van is his.”

Josh reached over and smacked Dix across the head with the back of his hand.

“Ignore him,” Josh said, flicking some of his shoulder-length brown hair over his shoulder, glancing at Dwalin in the rearview mirror. “He’s jealous that his tiny dinky car couldn’t make the cut.”

“My dinky car is perfectly fine!”

“We are not putting six people in that tiny car.”

“Six people?” Dwalin asked.

“Oh yeah,” Dix continued. “Aaron will be joining us whenever he gets too annoyed at Ryker. Whom you’ve already met, and the girls Magdalyn Rose, Ava Reyes, and Juniper Drake.”

“Why would he be getting annoyed at Ryker?”

“They’re siblings,” You explained, “Ryker and Aaron Jones. When the band started getting big, Ryker turned to her brother to help her manage gigs and now he’s the production manager.”

“Can you guys quiet down, I’m trying to sleep.” Piped up the voice from the back seat.

“And that lazy lump back there is Everett Reed. He’s our guitar tech.” Dix finished off the introductions. Everett lifted a hand over the back seat, flipping off Dix.

It was at that moment that Dwalin realized he’d be spending a lot of time in this van and he wondered if signing up for this was really worth the paycheck. Then he saw your smile, and how much you loved these boys. So he settled in and dug a book out of the bag that he’d brought.

It was quiet for a long time, Josh and Dix talking amongst themselves in the front while Everett’s light snores served as ambiance. You studied Dwalin for a moment, growing bored of staring out the window or giving Josh and Dix a reason to argue.

Dwalin was leaning back against the bench reading The Art of War. As big of a man as he was the book looked small in his hands. His beard was long and rough, but well kept at the same time.

“You’re staring again.” He said, barely taking his eyes off his book.

“You remind me of a bear.” You commented. It wasn’t a big deal to you, lots of people reminded you of animals. He just rose a brow at you, huffed, and went back to reading.

. . .

Several days went on like this, long days in the van driving to the next location for the next gig. Then it was up again in the morning and off to the next show. Switching up whoever was driving whenever the person in the driver's seat got too fatigued. Days felt like years in the van, everyone getting a little stir crazy, knowing that their only breaks were stops for meals and the restroom.

“Y/n/n,” Dix whined from the middle seat. You were in the back by yourself stretching out your legs while Everett drove. “I’m bored.”

“You’re kinda S.O.L then, aren’t you?” You rose a brow at him.

“Play something.” He pouted, turning his brown puppy eyes on you, “Please?”

You sighed, leaning over the back seat and opening up the guitar case you had stashed back there. Pulling out a beautiful electric guitar that looked like the night sky, and a small battery-operated amp that you could plug directly into your guitar.

“What then?” You asked, strumming a few chords to check the tuning.

“You can play the guitar?” Dwalin asked. He wasn’t much for talking, but a few things he wanted answers to.

“Yeah,” Dix grinned, “She taught Ry everything that she knows. Though, Ry did always have the voice for this. Y/n/n should be in the band in my opinion.”

“You know that that’s not happening, Dix.” You shook your head. “I don’t like attention.”

“Which is kinda ironic when you think about it.” The blond mused.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

. . .

The more Dwalin learned about you, the more he wanted to know more. You didn’t like talking about your stalker or why Dwalin’s services were needed in the first place. You would simply refuse to talk about it. He’d thought long and hard on the situation at night while you slept, leaned against his side.

“We’re here, everyone,” Aaron pulled to a stop alongside another bar. A light sleeper yourself, you woke at his words, but Josh and Everett took stronger efforts.

“The Royal Growler?” Dix snorted incredulously. You sat up in your seat, taming your hair before climbing out of the van, happy to stretch your legs after a fourteen-hour drive.

“I’m gonna go introduce myself to the house guy.” You told Aaron, knowing that he’d be following close behind, along with your mountain of muscle that he hired.

“You too, Big Bear,” You didn’t need to say it, but you wanted to see if you could get Dwalin to squirm. He didn’t outwardly squirm, but squirm he did. Big Bear? What the hell did that mean? He hated it but at the same time, it didn’t sound so bad coming from you. So he followed, he was going to regardless, but he followed in shock.

However, soon enough your crew was cleared to set up. Each one of them was happy to have the chance to actually use their muscles, including you.

Dwalin was beginning to love watching you work, watching you carry and move all of these heavy boxes, upwards of seventy pounds apiece. It didn’t help that today your muscled legs were exposed due to your shorts, and suddenly Dwalin felt like a teenager again. You were under his charge, he shouldn’t be looking at you like you were available to him. You weren’t available to him. You’d never be. It wasn’t appropriate.

Everett brought back Mexican food.

“I wasn’t sure what to get you, big guy, so I got you the biggest thing I could think of.” He handed a bag to Dwalin, “Tonight’s not gonna be much fun on an empty stomach.”

Dwalin watched on as Everett turned his attention to you, handing you a styrofoam box of your own. “For you, Little Mamma.”

You did a little dance in your spot, excited at the prospect of digging into your duo beef and cheese enchiladas. Now that wouldn’t have impressed Dwalin in the slightest if it weren’t for the fact that it also came with rice and beans. It seems that Dwalin wasn’t the only one who could pack away food. Is it bad that he found that attractive about you?

And soon enough the lights were down, the alcohol was flowing, and the crowd was beginning to thicken. Dwalin stood close to you, on one hand, to keep the drunks away, on the other because he wanted to be close to you.

You didn’t mind really, he gave you enough space not to crowd your work, and you knew he was watching out for you. When the bar got hot, he’d shrug off his leather jacket, and when you weren’t admiring the muscle in his arms you were admiring his sleeves of tattoos that ran down his arms.

The tattoos weren’t as hardcore as you expected. One arm was a mountain range and a forest, beautifully done. You almost couldn’t believe that it was ink on skin. The other, clockwork and skulls and flowers. Edgy but soft, and you had a sneaking suspicion that this grouchy mountain next to you was just like that.

Then the crowd was gone, like a whirlwind, and things were being packed up. You could hear some party song playing loudly at the other end of the bar, but that didn’t matter because it was the end of the night and you were ready to pass out from exhaustion.

Then the bar owner arrived and handed you a note.

Just a small scrap of paper.

Did you miss me these past few days? I missed you, beautiful.

I’ll see you at the next show

- N

tags: open || Part Four ||

#dwalin x reader #the hobbit x reader #finn writes #full length fic

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disembowel-me · 4 years

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SAD SACK Review

SAD SACK is a series of ultraviolent snuff porn comics by meanboss and barbatus following 5 somewhat likable but very maladjusted guys as they commit a series of murders against deserving(?) people. I didn’t know anything beyond that going in, though I was familiar with some of their previous works and loved them so I knew I was gonna love this. This review is split up by my thoughts on each comic, and then my overall thoughts.

Spoilers shouldn’t ruin your enjoyment of these comics, but if you’re the kind of person who cares about that but want to know if I recommend it - hell yeah I recommend it. if you think you’ll like it, you’ll probably like it. This review is also nsfw, which goes for everything on this blog.

disclaimer: I am not an artist, I do write but not very well or often and have no formal training beyond what you get from k-12 and a basic college degree. I’m just a gore, sex, and death enthusiast here to let you know my thoughts on this awesome comic ‘cause god knows more people need to hear the word

1. SO MUCH FOR THE TOLERANT LEFT

This is definitely the most fun. It’s a raw, unadulterated revenge fantasy. It’s passionate, it’s angry, but stays pretty light and fun, or as light and fun as a torture porn comic can be. It’s indulgent. It’s violent pleasure to the max. And it's so! fucking! HOT!

Malik’s dirty talk is so raunchy. Raping a nazi? Making him cry and beg for cock? Jesus christ it’s SO hot. I love Stone’s mock-kindness, and how the nazi bends to their whims so fast. And Garv’s skull-fucking is probably one of if not my favorite scenes in all of the comics. Those exposed brains reeaallly hit the spot.

The art is a little rougher than the others, which is to be expected since it’s the first but honestly? I love it and it fits the tone, and it’s really cool to see how the quality is improved with every comic. The visuals are amazing. The facial expressions are incredible and are exaggerated in such a way that conveys the extreme emotion really well. I love the panels where the nazi’s face is reflected in Jake’s glasses and you see how tiny and pathetic he is and feels.

This one is the easiest to digest. There’s not a lot of story here, it gets to the point fast, it feels like it’s not ‘real’, as in it doesn’t feel like it exists in a world like our own where consequences exist..... until the end where Jake has to go back to retrieve Malik’s sister’s knife and the nebulous “torture world” and the real world the boys live in meet. Most torture porn I’ve consumed thus far has only or mostly only been torture porn, so I like that they have lives outside of this, which is explored a lot more as the story goes on.

2. A SMALL PLOT OF LAND

This murder is purely emotional, and the only one that isn’t sexual at all. I don’t have as many specific things that I liked to point out here but it’s so satisfying to see a cowardly predator get what he deserves. The only explicitly sexual content is at the beginning where Sal and Stone are violently fucking, but the story and gnarly as fuck gore more than makes up for it (and if you’re into that sort of thing, it won’t hold you back from finding parts sexy anyway). I love the quick tonal shift from violent fuck to a tender and vulnerable moment between them. Sal and Stone’s relationship here is sweet and loving and actually pretty cute. For how intense this one is, it ends fairly light-hearted and I got a real kick out of Garv starting to lick the cock and then get pissy when Malik tells him off, and clearly, Sal did too!

What really shines in these comics, aside from all the gore and porn and dicks and yummy goodness we’re here for, are the panels featuring faces. The expressions are intense and scary, and they're not afraid to make the characters look ugly. You can feel Sal’s pain and rage through the pages, and his asthma acting up as things spiral in intensity helps convey that even more. And in the end, when he lets out that heavy breath, you can feel the weight that's been lifted from him.

The brunch date in the epilogue is awfully cute, and I'm glad to see Sal so happy.

3. SNUFF MACHINERY

Malik is so sexy and charming. I love his sweet talk and dirty talk. I like that it starts as a consensual encounter… and Vaska slowly realizes something’s wrong as he chokes on Malik’s cock. I love how lost, scared, and pathetic yet so pliant and willing to please he is. I love that he just opens his mouth up for everybody to pass him around and fuck his face, and I love how grody and sopping wet his beard gets with all sorts of body fluids.

There’s not even any gore until halfway through… but once it comes, boy, things escalate quickly. Ironic revenge is one of my favorites, so it makes his drugged, fluid-soaked face all the more satisfying to watch get crunched. And when Garv fingers his brain… ooh, fuck.

The revelation that Malik’s motive was revenge for something that happened to his sister and not actually to him completely changed the context I viewed it in. You could tell killing him hadn’t relieved Malik of the guilt and anger like he’d expected it to, maybe even made the guilt worse. This seems to sort of mark a turning point in tone for the overall story. Jake and Sal both seemed to be helped by their experiences, but Malik and later Stone were not. If anything, their problems seem to have been made worse by their choice to take somebody’s life, and it doesn’t give me good feelings for the fate these boys are headed for.

3.5. 15°20' FRACTURE ZONE

Simple, sexy, great atmosphere, free. Check it out first if you’re on the fence about buying the others. There’s no gore, but it’s still great.

4. A.M.F.

I think Garv’s date is the most painful thing I’ve seen so far, HAH!

By this point, I’d been endeared enough to all the characters that I was invested in their dinner and karaoke and probably would’ve still been if they hadn’t been planning their next fetish murder. Stone is an unlikable asshole for the majority and it makes me feel bad for Sal, but I still like getting to see more and more of their real lives and I want to root for him to do better. This was by far the most story-heavy, and by far the one I felt the most conflicted about. I was pretty fucked up my first couple reads of this, so I didn’t realize that Evan, their waiter, was Stone’s victim until my third or so read. Realizing this I had an oh, shit moment, and realizing they were talking about his death right in front of him!!! gave me another oh, shit! moment. That’s so fucked. That fucked me up. Up until this point, most people would agree the victims deserved what came to them, or at least don’t feel bad for them, but this man’s only crime was.... being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Looking too much like Stone’s dad? And all the other guys were ok with this too? That speaks louder to me than anything these characters could say. Also, that’s sloppy. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to kill people you know?

It’s the first time I’ve truly been disturbed by SAD SACK, knowing the feast is just a guy who didn’t do anything wrong. After stewing on my feelings and reading again, it… actually makes it hotter? In the sense that it’s that much more provocative. That context made me more sensitive to the gore, too. The tooth-pulling scene was the first one to actually make me cringe, and I still have a hard time looking at it, so good job guys! Jake talking to Stone while he’s getting fucked out of his mind is so fun, and everyone looks so sexy. Every view we get of Sal’s ass is a fucking gift. I’m so glad Stone sat on Garv’s face against his will, and I’d say he deserved getting blood and shit sprayed all over him… or maybe that just because he’s real cute when he’s upset.

Stone's murder was not a good idea and clearly didn't help him. He wasn't prepared for Evan's death quite yet when it happened, just like he wasn't prepared for his dad's. You can't control death, dude. If anything, just like Malik, it might've made it worse. I could speculate about how maybe both were using their murders as a way to avoid actually dealing with their real issues… buuut I'm not here to speculate.

5. Pre BOG

I… like Garv a lot. I think he’s a new favorite character. He stirs the same lustful feelings in me that Lawrence did. I want to hurt and humiliate and control him. Unlike Lawrence, he’s an awful person who I don’t care about at all or want any happiness for but man is he a cute little piece of shit! The fact that he fucks (or tries..to fuck...) the dead bodies at the end of each comic definitely doesn’t help my endearment towards him. I’m a little nervous for his comic because he is such a misogynistic piece of shit... but I’m also excited because I love how nasty he is and excited he gets, especially for the dead.

CONCLUSION

I like that they’re just ‘normal’ guys (minus Garv. Garv is a piece of shit). I like it when people who do bad things are relatable. I like it when you can sympathize with them, and I like it when you can empathize with them, and I like thinking about if I were under similar circumstances, would I be capable of such things? What would it take for me to? Would I ever be able to? How close is the average person to being able to violently murder someone? Is there something wrong with me for even thinking about it? Hopefully, these contemplations will never be anything more than hypothetical but I think it’s still good to analyze my enjoyment of darker things. It’s not just indulgent porn (although it definitely, certainly is that too). It’s an exploration of personal failings, trauma, choosing to deal with your issues through violence and how it does or doesn’t help… but those are topics that would need an analysis, and while one could definitely do a full analysis on this series, I’m not going to otherwise we’d be here for a lot longer.

The art is gross, it’s repulsive at times, and it’s done so well. I love the scant use of color in the mostly monochrome torture scenes, the way their eyes either glow or look hollow, the wonky angles, and exaggerated proportions to maximize the impact. I don’t know if these count as horror but the art has an awesome horror aesthetic, and a lot of the time the way the guys are drawn is downright terrifying. There’s no way I can talk about every small detail I loved. That’s 769 pages to talk about and at that point, I might as well just annotate every page. If you like gore you’re gonna love these comics. If you like torture, or helpless screaming men, or really dark themes, or nasty stuff in general, you’re gonna love it. Even if you’re not into gore sexually, it’s fucking gnarly, and it has a comedic edge. These guys do gross so fuckin well and I absolutely love it. My creative goals in life are to make erotic art - to make porn, but not exclusively porn, things that are able to be used as wank material but also able to be enjoyed outside of that. SAD SACK accomplishes that, and it’s kind of inspirational.

I appreciate everything that goes into this project. I wish there was more violent fetish content of this high of quality, so I think it’s important to support creators when it comes to projects like this. Most horror porn I’ve seen also puts the reader in the victim’s position, and as someone who leans generally on the more sadistic side of things, I appreciate the main characters as the perpetrators. If you do too, go check it out. Thank you, RJ and Nick, for all the incredible amounts of work and time you've put into this project. I've enjoyed it a lot and will continue to do so for quite a while, I’m sure.

Also... I didn’t know where else to put this, but those weeks-old corpses were exquisite <3

#i wanted this to be longer because i have way more thoughts #but honestly this has taken way too long as it is and if i waited for my brain to start workin better to #make those thoughts coherent to others #nobody would ever see this #sad sack

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ravenempress101 · 4 years

Text

Veronica Lodge x Bret Weston Wallis Ft. His Friends *Requested*

THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING HUN I LOVED WRITING THIS ONE AND IT IS NOT WEIRD I LOVE YOUR MINDS JUST SO BEAUTIFUL PLEASE SEND MORE AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT LOVE YESSS 😍😍😍

i’m still doing requests and taking them lovelies

Masterlist

Warnings: Manhandled, Choking, 3 people, sexual advancement, force entry,smut, dirty talk,broken Veronica,

River Vixens i'm going to meet up with Archie in the parking lot" As Veronica stood up and scanned at her iPhone for a text from the orange haired man. Cheryl stalked over toward her and boomed back at her "Be back for call outs, Veronica we need you"

Veronica shook her head in agreement, step after step of her running out the stadium toward the parking lot fences. she glanced at her phone again but no text. stop from running she tapped her cheer shoes in rhythm, crossing her tanned arms over her breasts.

"where is Archie, he was suppose to be here " below a whisper. "oh look it's veronica at a stonewall game, you don’t see that often" A voice boomed through her thoughts. Her mouth dropped from the light brown locks and blue eyes standing right in front of her. her worst nightmare met her horizon.

"oh no it's you, what do you want Bret"

"hey hey nothing, but just admiring a ravishing raven haired girl" Bret took a few steps close to veronica frame. Placing his slender fingers under her chin. veronica head went up and looked in his icy blue eyes as a smirk creep on his face. veronica was a beautiful master piece in Bret's eyes and he wants her plastered on his mind.

She took a few steps back and pushed Bret. He flew back, his smirk disappeared and replaced with a eyebrow furrowed and his blood boiling. veronica head falling down from Bret’s gaze."well i don't want anything to do with you.'Bret stalking toward veronica, while he placed his hands in his hair swooping a few locks to the side.

"Oh, but i got a lot of things that i want to do to you the love of my heart, and the girl standing right there is going to listen to and do whatever i say"

"bull crap no i am not"

Her spitting back at Bret. He captured her cheer skirt, her body crashing into his as bret held her close. his hand found its way toward his pocket and a black rectangular object made its way along her plump lips.

Veronica stood there as droplets appeared on her forehead. she turned herself around from Bret scanning for Archie, his gripped tighten and veronica's body snapped back to his. "stop Bret I need to find Archie"

Veronica fought in his hold on her. Bret made his way down toward her ear. His rough Heartshappes brushed against her ear with every word he spoke.

“Read what that says on the tape”

“Veronica and…. oh no”

“Oh yes and you know I had such a fonding of you Veronica”

veronica flinch from his sticky breathe on her ear. Bret lips place a airy kiss on her ear. a strangled moan escaped her mouth from the distressed he placed on her petite body.“No Bret I’ll give you anything daddy has a lot of money”He smirked at the flustered girl and trailed his eyes from her curvy love handles.veronica was begging to keep her insanity from Bret.

He had so much in store for her. His rough palm found its way on her back. Bret stepping forward as veronica stepping back. Her heart raced with every step that they both took. They waltzed with each others body. Bret placed her in between the barb wire fence. Terror filled her eyes on what she had to accomplish from the evil man.

"i really want that curvy body of yours"Her wrists compelled there way on the wire. Her orbs leading to Bret. two sets of different hands placed her in the hold. Veronica kicked her legs forward but Bret's henchmen bondage didn't budge.Her body coming alive for him to take every innocence she has.

Brett intertwined his hands with his belt loops and his pants coming undone. His jeans made there way down to his thigh and his Calvin Klein’s followed. Bret's dick exposed right in front of Veronica. Pre cum dripping from the tip at the sensation veronica brought him.

"Alright boys, Let's give her what she's really been missing.

Bret trailed his palm up and down his shaft , lubricating his dick for veronica a groan escaped from him as his length grew in his hand. "no please"

Her protests feeling the air. Veronica felt she wanted to faint from the enduring pain that he felt he was going to call. Bret ran his thumb along her red stained lips. he grabbed her thigh and her legs found there way on both side of his torso. Exposed in front of Bret, her skirt rides up. His dick fell in between her legs. liquid dripping from him and soaked her lace pantie. a moan came out her throat.

Veronica felt her area contract from the heated contact. Bret ran his tip along her plump bud that peaked through. Veronica heart raced from the cold world that Bret created for both of them.

A harden breast nipple appeared under her cheer shirt. Goosebumps flared on her skin. Bret teasing made her body fall into denial that her body craved. His hand slipped between the fold of her panties. Him pulling them to the side. her love box appeared, dripping from the cool air that hit her.

Stimalously as his cock stood there, he slipped one slender finger inside her as his precum covered his finger. She bite back at the finger in her and grind her hips at Bret’s finger covering in her roughly.then Bret takes his finger out lines up at her entrance. his free hand captures her vagina folds and spreads them apart. he's inches away from her opening he slides his tip inside her wiggling.

Her bottom lip finds its way in between her teeth. Veronica eyes enclosed in her skull. The thickness of him overtook her site. As he continues to enter himself in, she shakes her legs from the hardness she feels that Bret gave her.

"already? Do i really have that much effect on you?"

“Ugh uh uh Brett no”

Veronica protests ringed in Bret’s euphoria.instantly he guides his finger covered in Veronica and sucks her off his index. Immediately after that Both boys on the side of her Placed rough burning kisses on her neck. As purple and blue hickey’s decorated her skin.

Meanwhile Starting to stab inside and out of her. Bret picked up pace holding down her waist giving more leverage to split her inside."take it Veronica'

His hand came over her mouth. Muffled moans filled her body going up and down on the fence as Veronica rode him. slapping noise grew louder with each lunge. Her hands formed balls into fists. muscles tensing from the tension between pain and pleasure for her it was only pain.

"yes baby girl, you are so tight"a high speed for both of them. Bret grabbed the fence from his impacts, he was enjoying ruining the woman. Him came at a slow diligent pace Changing his direction inside her. as he curved inside her g-spot repeatedly did straight rough strokes. Her walls gave out with the movement. Veronica core clenched around his head. Her womb tightening as her high becoming visible.

Bret picked up on his panther like thrust in a rythem that Veronica chest hived. Bret could feel him get closer to his euphoria that he wanted veronica to share with him. Her body trembled and her sweat drenched her hair.

"i own you"

Himself pumping a few more. His structure lose its stamina. a wave of his high crash in. spilling into the woman. Veronica choked from Bret’s hand around her throat squeezing the life out her as he filled her with his warm cum.

“Bret noooo”

Water droplets filled the rim of her heavy eyes. His sharp thrust continued riding out his orgasm. veronica insides were replaced with a black hole for Bret to jab through. nausea crept up her throat as Bret sharply advanced her. A wince fell upon her helpless sensitive feeling he destroyed. He came to a slow rythem, veronica's frame became cold and stillness at the manhandling he enforced."alright boys, who next?"

"no please, i had enough please"

"i'm down, love to ruin a vixen"

Bret pulled himself out of her. The boy of Bret's friend captured Veronica's limp body and dragged it on the concrete . Veronica placed her heels on the ground but she found herself on the hood of a car. The guy ran his fingers along his shaft.

Bringing his tip to her bud. She startled herself by how sensitive she was. Seeing Bret’s cum drip out of her made him grow. He made his way along her fold. Using his tip to capture Bret’s cum back inside her. His dick followed right behind plunging himself in her vagina.His humping turned ruthless as slurring his commands his eyes closing from the euphoria her creamed bud felt.“Uh uh uh freak”

Veronica gasping out at Brett’s friend. Her lightheaded from the boys impact. veronica felt like this went on for days. Her body couldn't take the painful bruises he created. Her hands grouped his shoulder bracing herself from him. “So warm princess yesss I love this one Brett”

The man Slithered, his head found its way in her shoulder. As his locks fell on Veronica’s drenched forehead.

Then the last man jumped on top of the car and lined himself at veronica's mouth forcing his tip inside. the gentleman forced all himself in. her throat filled with his dick. deepthroating veronica performed. her squeals came in contact with him. her mouth created vibrations from her warnings. the man moaned from above her.

“Her mouth even feels like heaven”

Orbs rolled to the back of her head from the predatorious movements that were enforced. They started going harder with each hold on her body for her wrists had purple marks decorated and faster to the losing control of there bodies reaching there high as both of them filled her with cum she swallowed the first ones cum to fill her stomach and her womb forcefully ate for his rich cum decorated and mixed with Bret’s.“Roni we had such a good time”

Brett teases as they all pulled out her. While Bret sneakily places a peck on her cum filled lips.

Meanwhile they ran off from a black eye liner teared stained Veronica shuddering.Her inside was overflowing with men’s semen. The liquids dropped out of her and she felt every drop that uncovered from her. Her body was paralyzed from the sexual acts that took place. Archie never came for her as her heart broke from the images in her head of him not coming but for Bret had his predatory ways were a success

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fullmetalscullyy · 4 years

Text

the way it was - chapter 7

i’ll run to you

summary: what if riza never went to war? riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: no archive warning apply

chapter 6 | read on ao3

1909

just call my name on the edge of the night

and i’ll run to you

Roy awoke with a pounding headache. He struggled to sit up, eventually giving up when the nausea threatened to overwhelm him. He groaned loudly and closed his eyes again, succumbing to his exhaustion.

“Wake up,” a gruff voice commanded. Roy cracked open an eyelid painfully. Maes was standing at the bottom of the bed, arms crossed and looking unimpressed.

“Maes?”

“Come on, sleeping beauty. Get up.”

Roy groaned. “I don’t think I can. My head hurts like hell.”

“Well, sucks to be you. Get up.”

“Hey –” Roy protested as Maes drew back the duvet, exposing his body to the cold chill of the apartment. This wasn’t unusual behaviour. By some divine power gifted upon him Maes never got a hangover and had very little sympathy for those who did, but it didn’t mean Roy had to appreciate or like it. His current state was self-inflicted after all, so no wonder Maes had no sympathy, and last night perhaps Roy had let himself get a little carried away. He needed to let loose, desperately so, and drinking with an old war buddy seemed like the best way to do it.

You didn’t need to let loose, a voice in his head whispered to him. You wanted to forget.The faces… The screams… Roy almost vomited again.

“What are you even doing here? Why come in just to annoy me?” Roy mumbled irritably, sitting himself up after much effort.

“Your wife and kid are away out on a walk with my girlfriend, and I’m bored.”

Wait. What?

Roy stopped rubbing his temples. Looking around the room he saw he was in his own bed. The duvet next to him was perfectly made and cold. It had been empty all night.

Riza…

He remembered coming home last night… He remembered mumbling something but couldn’t drag up the memory of what it was. Then there was a lot of vomit. He groaned. He hadn’t meant for things to get so out of control like that. He just hoped Riza hadn’t cleaned up his mess. That was for him to do.There was a vague recollection of him arguing with Maes about where he should sleep in the bar. He wished he’d kept his mouth shut and gone to Maes’. Riza didn’t need to see him in that state –

The rest of what had happened last night hit him like a truck.

“Don’t touch me You don’t deserve to.”

“I killed them!”

“I still hear their screams.”

Roy bolted to his bathroom – which was incredibly clean – and wretched. There was nothing in his stomach except bile. The acid burned his nose and throat as it came up. Oh god. Oh god. He’d said all those things to Riza. He’d lashed out. He’d told her some of what happened while he was drunk.

Idiot.

“So, the memory of last night has finally hit you?” Maes asked casually, a hard edge to his voice. Roy flushed the toilet, removing the evidence of his stomach contents. He staggered to his feet, the bright sunlight from his bathroom window hitting his eyeballs painfully. He pulled out the cleaning product and began to wipe down the toilet. He gagged at the strong smell of the bleach.

“It has,” Roy replied grimly. “Where is she?” he asked in a heartbeat. He needed to talk to Riza. He needed to apologise.

“Out with Gracia,” Maes replied. He reached forward and plucked the toilet brush from his hands. “Go back to bed. You look like you’re going to puke again from the smell alone.”

“No, I need to clean this up. This is my mess –”

“We’re not just talking about the vomit on the toilet seat, are we?”

“No.” He almost shook his head, but it was pounding, and every movement sent a shock of pain through his skull.

“Good answer. Go back to bed and stop the world from spinning. I’ll let you know when she gets back.”

“Did… Did you stay here last night?” Roy asked. Maes nodded as he worked, not looking back at his friend.

“Riza asked if we would mind staying. Just in case.” Roy’s stomach turned to lead. Just in case. Oh god, what had he done?

“Right.” Roy nodded and turned away.

“She had Mia, who is adorable, by the way, so Gracia offered to stay and help with the kid while I was drafted in to look after you.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you.”

Maes was quiet for a minute, sitting back on his heels as he stared at the white porcelain. “Don’t mention it, man.”

“Thanks for taking care of my family when I couldn’t.”

“Of course, Roy.” Maes’ voice was soft, then he returned to his task of cleaning up Roy’s vomit.

An hour later Roy had managed to move himself to the couch. In passing, something caught his eye in the kitchen. In a bowl, on the countertop, sat a pair of socks attached with a note.

Exhibit A

Offensive material found behind the couch

Roy closed his eyes to try and stop the tears from falling. He remembered their banter before he’d left. Her smile flashed in his mind, the amused grin that was always infectious. He felt even worse now.

Feeling well and truly sorry for himself, Roy sat in their living room in silence, head tilted back and staring up at the ceiling. Maes moved around him, humming to himself as he did whatever it was to keep him entertained, then eventually settled in the kitchen as he began to make some food. The smell made Roy gag.

Roy wasn’t looking for sympathy. He needed to apologise for his behaviour and tell Riza what had happened before he could even begin to indulge in that feeling.

The front door opened and Riza paused when she saw Roy looking at her apologetically. She answered Gracia’s question and parked the pram in the hallway. She unclasped Mia from within and lifted their daughter up, the widest smile on her face. Roy taken away that happiness from her last night.

“Good morning,” she greeted. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t exactly the warmest tone she’d ever used with him. He deserved that. When he met her gaze, she held it for a second then averted it.

She’s putting up those walls again. He’d witnessed them before, as they were growing up. You did that to her.

“More like good afternoon, sleeping beauty,” Gracia quipped with a smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Ashamed. Embarrassed. Sorry.”

“… Ah. I’m sorry, Roy.”

“No, I am. Sorry for putting you through that, but thank you for taking care of me, and for looking out for Riza.” He’d lowered his voice. Riza had entered their kitchen where Maes greeted her and had begun to coo over baby Mia. Roy was sure she couldn’t hear them. “I really appreciate it.”

Gracia patted his knee. “What are friends for, right?”

“How can I ever repay you?”

“By making up with her,” Gracia smiled wryly.

“How is she?”

“Hurt.” Ouch. “Confused. And I think she’s feeling a little helpless right now. She wants to help you so badly, Roy, but she doesn’t know how to. She thinks you’ve finally shut her out, just like her father did.” Gracia’s face turned sympathetic when Roy’s face fell. Oh God, no. Anything but that. “I don’t know what happened, but that’s what she told me. I know you would never do that. Especially not to her, but she’s upset. Her hormones are still all over the place, you know, so she’s still hurt and upset. Remember, she’s only young,” Gracia added.

It suddenly hit Roy that Riza wasn’t even in her twenties yet. He knew this, of course, and it wasn’t strange for people their age to marry. It was extremely common. However, Riza always acted so much older than her years – she had her father’s upbringing to thank for that. She’d grown up too fast but hadn’t learned a healthy was to deal with confrontation like this. Roy had seen it first-hand. She’d submitted to Berthold as he’d hurled abuse at her. Roy had stepped in once, which seemed to startle Berthold to his senses. However, he’d simply scoffed and called her a stupid girl, dismissing them both from his study.

“She feels selfish, because this is about you, not her,” Gracia added. “And that frustrates her as well. However, I think it’s valid.”

“Yeah,” Roy agreed. They needed to talk. Now.

Gracia patted his knee again. “I can’t tell you what to tell her, Roy, only you can. But you two need to talk about what happened over there.”

“Did Maes tell you everything?”

Gracia smiled and shook her head. “No, but I’m not blind, and I know him very well. Just like your Riza knows you very well. We’re not stupid. We know it wasn’t sunshine and roses. It was war. Even if you don’t tell us, we could easily look it up in some report. So, ask yourself, Roy: would you rather she read it in a report – all your heroic deeds in the name of Amestris and its people – or would you rather she heard the truth from you?”

Roy was silent as he mulled over Gracia’s proposal. She was right, of course. Roy had learned the military had pushed a lot of propaganda after the State Alchemists went in. Roy hated to hear her talk about it, not that she ever really did, Riza rarely spoke about the war in front of him for his sake, but never corrected her when she brought up a piece of propaganda. He just didn’t want her to worry.

Now look where that had got him.

“We should get going,” Maes announced as he entered their living room, shooting a pointed look at Roy. “I’ll call you later Roy, all right?”

“Right.”

After a brief farewell, the two left.

Roy entered their kitchen slowly, squinting in the sunlight from the window. His head was still thumping, but he pushed through. He had to. There were bigger things at stake here than him.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Roy,” Riza greeted, briefly looking up at him. She had Mia in her arms as she waited for her bottle to cool down a little.

She was upset. She was angry. He could tell by the small quiver in her voice and the way she swallowed after speaking. Roy had never seen her angry before. She had every right to be after the way he’d acted last night. He’s raised his voice to her unfairly and –

Oh god, little Mia had been in the room too. He remembered Riza hurrying in after him and picking her up from her cot. She’d been sleeping soundly before he came in and started drunkenly yelling.

He was not only the worst husband, but the worst father.

“I’m so sorry, Riza,” he breathed. “For everything.”

“It’s okay, Roy. I told you, I’d give you all the time you needed,” she stated curtly, checking the bottle more thoroughly for its temperature.

Roy wanted to vomit again. “Riza –”

“I told you,” she interrupted evenly. “That I’d give you time, however that does not give you the excuse to use me as a verbal punching bag whenever the alcohol gets you talking,” she added, her voice hard. Riza’s fury was a quiet and a cold one, and Roy thought that was so much worse than her screaming and yelling at him. It was terrifying.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“And I won’t have you doing it while Mia is in the house. Is that clear?”

“Of course,” he swallowed, blinking at her. Looking at his wife he picked out her hard gaze, the twitch in her eye because of her anger, and the look in her eyes… She still looked slightly angry, but after he agreed with her, he noticed her slightly narrowed eyes soften. The anger slowly dissipated, and concern overtook her instead. He could see it in the way her hands shook and her voice wavered in strength.

What had he done? He’d never seen Riza like this before. She’d… She’d toughened up. In any other circumstance Roy would be happy that she’d broken out of her shell, but he despised the fact that it was because of him, and his idiotic actions, that had caused her to do it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Riza stared him out for a second longer before her shoulders relaxed. He’d been the cause of this. Her gaze turned to their daughter, who was cradled in Riza’s arms. “I already said that I understood if the person you needed to open up to wasn’t me,” Riza reminded him calmly and quietly, but he saw the shake in her hands. “I just needed to know if you’re alright. Clearly you’re not.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

It spurred him into action. Roy stood and shook off the feeling of nausea, rounding the table to crouch at her side. He took her free hand in his, clasping it tightly with one and covering it with the other.

“It will always be you,” Roy stressed. “Believe me, it will. I swear on my life.”

Riza closed her eyes briefly. Roy had witnessed it many times before, the way she composed herself. It was a minute movement, and barely lasted a second, but it was there. When her eyes opened the didn’t meet his and she extracted her hands, using the excuse for testing the bottle’s temperature again.

Roy didn’t move from her side, though. He couldn’t, because he’d done this to her. She’d been so desperate to help him and had tried so hard to calm him down last night, but he’d yelled in her face. She was only cold and emotionless when greeting him today because she was trying to protect herself. He’d seen it many times during interactions between her and her father.

Growing up, it had taken years for him to break them down. She’d finally let him in to see every part of her after he’d figured out his father’s flame alchemy. After returning from the academy he knew he was in love with her. But they were still young. She was eighteen, and he was just on the way to his twenty first birthday. They were too young. And yet, she’d boldly stepped up and done the thing he’d always been too scared to do – tell her how he felt. He’d regretted not doing so before leaving for the academy.

Riza offered no response, so Roy ploughed on ahead, letting everything out.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about what happened, for making it seem like I’d shut you out, and for lashing out last night.” He sat back on his heels, placing his hands on his knees. “It’s not an excuse, but I was drunk, and I was back there.” Roy swallowed as his heart rate picked up. He was finally opening up to her, like she’d deserved so many weeks ago, but it would be incredibly difficult. It meant reliving it. “I was back there, last night,” he repeated. “I could… I could hear the screams. Smell the burning. See the bodies –”

“Stop,” Riza whispered. Roy met her gaze, seeing her eyes were wet. “Please, stop.”

Roy blinked, feeling like he was snapping out of it. Riza’s expression was upset and concerned, for him. Her anger was gone. The hard look in her eyes was replaced with sorrow. He’d almost gone back. Roy could feel his heart rate picking up, feel the sweat breaking out over his skin.

“Was it… the alchemy?” she whispered.

“That played a part in the war. Yes,” Roy admitted. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to open up about just how much it had played a part. Not yet. He knew he was a monster, but a selfish part of him wanted to keep it to himself. Riza would run a mile with their child if she knew the truth, and Roy wouldn’t blame her. There were days where he couldn’t bear to look at her, ashamed of all the death he’d caused with the gift she’d given him.

He almost wished he hadn’t because her face crumpled as he revealed the truth, and Riza covered her face with her hands. Her body shook with sobs, a quiet sound escaping her lips as she cried.

“What’s wrong?” Roy asked, pulling her against him as tightly as he could with Mia still in her arms. Their daughter had begun to fuss, her arms flailing out, sensing her mother’s distress.

Riza shook her head against him. “You went through all of that. With what I gave you –”

“That was my choice.”

“But I played a part in it too. I could’ve kept it hidden, but I didn’t –” She cut herself off, but her meaning was already out there.

“Instead you gave it to me,” Roy finished for her. “And I used it to wreak havoc upon the people of Ishval.” Their house was silent as that admission settled over them both.

“Riza, you had no way of knowing,” Roy murmured, contemplating her statement.

“Neither did you!” Roy was silent after her outburst. “Last night you spoke about “that alchemy” like it was a disease. Imagine how I must have felt to hear you speaking like that?” She was right. He remembered blaming her father’s alchemy, throwing it in Riza’s face, like it was her fault he was in this mess.

“I wish he’d never completed his research,” she whispered. “I wish it had died along with him. It’s been a curse more than anything else, causing nothing but pain and suffering.” She pulled away and looked up at him. “I can see how much it’s hurting you, and how you’re suffering because of it after Ishval. I’m not stupid,” she added.

“No one said you were.” His voice was gentle and soothing as he rubbed up and down her arms. Roy placed his cheek against the top of her head, wishing he’d done this sooner rather than leave it to blow up in their faces.

“It’s a horrible thing you went through, but I just… I want to help you. To ease that pain. The flame alchemy is as much my burden as it is yours, and I know you’re hiding the extent of the damage it’s caused to try and protect me.”

Roy was silent, then exhaled sharply out of his nose. Damn, she saw right through him, as always. It was beyond his time for admitting that he was hiding things to protect her, but it was only because he didn’t want her to worry about him. It was a vicious cycle he was creating.

“You’re right,” he admitted quietly.

Riza nodded in acceptance and dropped her gaze.

“But not because I don’t think you could handle it.” Roy pulled up his own chair and let her go, finding it more comfortable to sit and talk about this. “It’s still fresh and I don’t want to go back there. Not with you and Mia present. There’s a lot of darkness in my mind right now,” he admitted. “And I don’t want to taint you both with it. I told you that the other night.”

“That’s what I’m here for, though.” Riza offered him a sad smile through her tears. Her anger was gone completely, leaving sorrow and concern in its place.

“I know,” Roy reassured her, gripping her hand tightly in her lap. “I know. I will tell you, I promise, but I… I can’t right now,” he added feeling helpless.

Riza nodded, her eyes understanding. “That’s fine, but don’t come home drunk like that again,” she warned quietly, wiping at her eyes. “I won’t have that in front of Mia.”

Roy’s stomach tightened, and he nodded. “Absolutely. I’m sorry. I lost control last night. I…” He sighed. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again if something sets me off.”

“Soldiers who have experienced war are rarely able to turn it off on a whim, I know that.”

“I won’t bring it home,” he promised. “I said I didn’t want to taint you both with it, and I did that last night. I’m sorry.”

Riza let out a loud sigh, followed by a short silence. “That’s all I ask for.” Riza met his gaze as she squeezed his hand. She offered him a small smile. Roy leaned in and kissed her, pressing his forehead against hers after it. “Thank you, for telling me about the alchemy too,” Riza stated quietly. “It makes me happier about my decision to burn the tattoo.”

Roy stiffened. “I know I failed you in that regard. I used it for something terrible.”

“What’s important now is what you do to redeem yourself of it.” Riza looked up at him with determined eyes. “We have to work through this. You have to.” Roy stood and wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders. Riza remained seated, clutching onto his forearm.

“I will. For both our sakes. It’s our burden to bear, and one I must rectify.”

“I’ll support you along every step of the way,” she whispered. “It’s the least I could do, after what I set loose into the world.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Oh, I know,” Riza smirked. She pulled away as the smile dropped. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I still feel all over the place.” Riza pressed a hand to cover her face, then took a deep breath, letting it out in a rush. When she pulled it away, Roy watched her expression instantly turn calm. “And I hate it. I hate not being in control of how I’m feeling.”

Taking a seat, Roy had always marvelled at her ability to change her expression like that in an instant. He would say it was a gift, but it was the result of her abusive father’s upbringing. Still, she was more in control of her emotions and her mental state that Roy envied her. She was such a strong individual. Roy aspired to be more like her, and drew on that strength from Riza, and from their daughter. That’s why he hadn’t completely lost it already and turned to the whims of his more intrusive thoughts. He’d almost sought out his service weapon. Not to do anything, but just to hold it, to feel the weight and the power in his hands… Then he’d heard Hughes talking to Riza and it had drawn him up short. Then they’d gone home and he’d seen her. Roy had been horrified with himself that he’d even considered it. He couldn’t leave her alone. Not again. Besides, he’d promised Riza he wouldn’t.

Last night was when Roy realised he seriously needed help. Not only for his sake, but for his family’s too.

“You hate crying,” Roy added with a small smile, placing a hand on top of her head, running his fingers through her hair.

“I do!” Riza agreed, her tone lightening. “I hate the way it makes me feel. Plus, I look a sight now.” She wiped at her red and puffy eyes.

“You look beautiful.”

“You’re biased,” she replied petulantly.

“Maybe,” Roy agreed with a smile. “But it’s true, and always will be. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, Riza Mustang. No one could ever replace you.”

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai au #emma writes #the way it was

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losingmymindtonight · 5 years

Text

Trope: Hair Playing

If there was one thing Tony Stark understood, it was nightmares.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept without them. They were a constant presence, lurking along the fringes of his mind, waiting for the right moment to sweep him up.

For him, sleep was composed of fragments. An hour here, fifteen minutes there. No matter what he did, whatever relaxation techniques or sleeping pills or whatever-the-fuck-else he tried, he always found himself jolting awake, soaked in sweat and shivering with terror, long before sunrise. It was why he rarely actually slept in the bed with Pepper anymore, which had also been one of the primary reasons their relationship had splintered before all the shit with Steve went down. It’s hard to form an intimate connection with someone when they’re just... never there.

When they’d gotten into a screaming match over his empty side of the bed the night before she left, he hadn’t had the heart to tell her that it was because he was terrified of waking up and hurting her. That that one night after New York was still laser-engraved in his mind.

He’d had to tell her eventually. It’d come out in a long, half-drugged rush after Siberia. The nightmares, the fears, the grief he’d felt every moment in her absence.

She was doing her best to understand, and he was doing his best to believe that he deserved her.

Even now, though, with all his secrets laid bare, he struggled to sleep beside her. When he did crash, he usually crashed on the couch in the lab. This week, though, Pepper was away for meetings in Dubai, and the kid was staying over to keep him company. Usually, he could get away with not sleeping during Peter’s weekend visits. He’d played the insomnia game long enough to know how to go 48 hours without sleep and hide it effectively. But a whole week? Even he wasn’t that well-practiced. Peter would know something was up.

He didn’t want to do that to him, didn’t want to press yet another burden into the the teenager’s already over-full hands, which meant that his only option was actually getting some rest.

The things he did for that kid.

A good few hours after Peter went to bed, he dragged himself out of the lab and into his and Pepper’s bedroom. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, did just about everything he could think of to stall. Then, when F.R.I.D.A.Y. gently reminded him that he’d been staring at his reflection in the mirror for seven whole minutes, he wandered over to the bed and curled up between the silk sheets and memory foam mattress. He knew that it was a set-up most people would die for, but to him it felt anything but comfortable.

Still, the last time he’d actually slept was 76 hours ago, so it didn’t take him long to pass out once F.R.I.D.A.Y. shut the lights off.

And down the rabbit hole he went.

The wormhole tore through the sky and in front of him, a nuke lit up the emptiness with fire and flash and that special brand of death that humans are so fond of engineering, the kind of violence that makes Tony certain that there is destruction brimming within all of our chests, like creation is just an overflow of the chaos locked within our DNA, and he fell and fell and fell through emptiness until-

The gunfire ricocheted through the tank like the armored exterior was a hot glue collage of tinfoil candy wrapper and when he turned his head all he could see were the death-twisted bodies of his guards, of the people he’d been joking around with just a few seconds before, could see over-exposed blood dribble across stiff fingers, a network of tiny morbid rivers, and he ran, he hid, rushed from the gunfire until an explosion knocked him off his feet and then his chest was on fire, the world was on fire, he was on fire-

Steve’s fist slammed down on his helmet, one, two, three, and when flesh failed he grabbed the shield, his father’s shield, and pounded and pounded until the titanium mask gave way, until his face became ground zero, became the impending tragedy in a rifle’s cross-hairs, and he shrank back, waited for the final blow, wondered if Pepper would even care after he was gone, and then the shield came down and it hit his chest, not his face, and the suit that gave him flight, power, purpose became an iron cage, clumsy and leaden on his limbs, and Steve stood, bloodied and triumphant, like the soldier his father had always wanted, the soldier he had never learned to-

All he could see was red dirt, red blood, the red of Peter’s Iron Spider suit as he bobbled, staggered, stared down at his hands like he was seeing them for the very first time, gasped out remnants of childhood like I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s- and sir, please, and then he was slamming into Tony’s chest, weight and warmth and fading life, and Tony held him, clung, couldn’t believe that this was how their story was doomed to end, couldn’t bear the progression of time, and the kid got lighter as his body faded but they fell anyway, fell through safety and air, and Tony held him, stared into his eyes, didn’t look away even as the ash crept up his face, over his cheek, his mouth, up to his-

Someone was shaking him. For a second, he felt caught between two realities. In one, he was watching a child die underneath a foreign sun. In the other, he could feel cool fabric wrapped around his legs and the firm comfort of his mattress pressed against his back. Which one is real? Which one is real? Which one is-

“Mister Stark, please. You’re having a nightmare. I’m right here, I promise. Just please wake up.”

That was... that was the kid. The same kid that was ash in the creases of his hand, the same kid that was gripping his shoulder like he might drift away. The contradiction made his head spin until he opened his eyes.

Peter was leaning over him in the dark, face ashen. The second he realized Tony was looking at him, his expression lit up.

“Are you awake?” He whispered, hopeful.

“Yeah.” Oh, ouch. His throat hurt. He must’ve been screaming. “Sorry. I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay.” Peter studied him carefully. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine.” He wasn’t, but what did that matter? “Go, uh, go back to bed, Pete.”

The kid’s head tilted to the side, calculating. “Your heart’s still racing.”

Screw the kid’s super-hearing. It made sneaking him around the truth 500% more difficult.

“Yeah, well, that happens. It’s fine. It’ll... It’ll settle.”

“Yeah, of course.” Looking like he’d made up his mind about something, Peter grabbed the edge of his comforter and pulled it back, inviting himself onto the bed and promptly tucking himself against Tony’s side.

He blinked, unconsciously bringing an arm around the kid’s back as he snuggled even closer. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

“Staying.”

“And... why are you doing that?”

“Because you’re too stubborn to ask me to.” Peter reached out and grabbed his free hand by the wrist, plopping it unceremoniously on the top of his head. “There.”

The lingering adrenaline was quickly giving way to bafflement. Maybe that was the kid’s point. If it was, it was a damn good tactic. “You... want me to mess with your hair?”

Peter shrugged, tone matter-of-fact. “It calms you down.”

He balked. He didn’t think that Peter had noticed that.

“It’s supposed to calm you down,” he protested weakly.

“Oh yeah. I mean, it does that too.”

Without really thinking, his hand started it’s usual path through the kid’s curls. He must’ve taken a shower before bed, because they were still a little damp and clumped together. He separated them slowly, breath evening as the familiarity of the movements sunk into his bones. It was such an easy pattern to fall into, such a comforting monotony.

“Do you need to be calmed down?”

Peter closed his eyes and smiled into Tony’s chest. “Oh, definitely.”

“Mm. I can tell. You’re obviously so stressed.” The kid was loose and warm against his side, the very picture of contentment. He felt his own body relaxing in a mirror of it, safety radiating from the weight Peter was pressing into his side. “Poor thing.”

“High school ‘s really rough, Mister Stark. Need lots of comfort to get by, y’know.”

“So that’s why you always invade my personal space.” The dreams trickled away. Peter was here, all growth-spurt limbs and sleep-mused hair. As long as he had that, there wasn’t anything else he needed, no memory that could possibly touch him. “Interesting.”

Peter practically purred as he worked through a knot at the base of his skull. “You like it.”

“My personal space? You’re right, I do.”

“No.” The kid sounded genuinely offended. “Me invading. You like it.”

He found another knot by the kid’s ear and rubbed it between his fingers until it loosened. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I would.”

“Well, you’re entitled to your opinions.”

“I am.” Peter nuzzled his face into the worn cotton of his t-shirt. He doubted he smelled all that great, considering how much he’d sweat during the nightmare, but the kid either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Promise you’ll go back to sleep?”

He shook his head. “I’ll just wake you up again, kid.”

“‘S okay if you do. I can just sleep late tomorrow.”

“I might hurt you.”

“You won’t.” The kid squinted open his eyes. “Try? Please?”

His determination softened at Peter’s pleading gaze. He brushed the kid’s bangs away from his face, letting his fingertips linger on his temple. “Alright. I’ll try.”

“Mm. Good.” Peter’s eyes drifted shut again. “Sleep is good.”

He followed Peter’s lead and closed his eyes, too. He focused his entire being on the figure eight he was making at the crown of the kid’s head. It was steady, easy. Peter had been right: this really was the perfect distraction.

“So they tell me.”

He could feel Peter’s smile against his chest. “I love you, y’know.”

Later, he’d blame his response on the fact that he was already half-asleep, or the nightmares, or how he was mostly too focused on keeping up with his rhythm through Peter’s curls to curate his words. Obviously, he would’ve never said it without something loosening his filter.

He never once, however, claimed it wasn’t true.

“Love you too, buddy.”

#yo yo yo it's cheesy ending zone #listen at the end of the day we all love a cheesy ending #anyway thought i'd invert the irondad nightmare trope with this one too #but is Peter sleepy? you know he is #anyway #irondadbingo #also this is such a fun idea #Get That Creativity Y'all #irondad #tony & peter #tony stark #peter parker #tw: nightmares #tw: dream violence

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