#it is very practical honestly but i know my back will explode when i turn 28 and i'll need something more comfy

[doccywhomst]

Someday you’ll have a bedframe. It will be wonderful.

fortune cookie predictions that make you burst into tears

#i WILL have a bed frame. #it WILL be wonderful. #my stupid ass has been sleeping on air mattresses and little floor couches for years - i grew up with a floor mattress #it is very practical honestly but i know my back will explode when i turn 28 and i'll need something more comfy

[bigfatbimbo]

I am haunted by visions of Vox with a capable assistant who doms him after hours. The role reversal of guy thinking he can fuck his secretary but she turns the tables and fucks him has me sweating

I got inspired by a turn of phrase that would might have been popular a little bit before Vox’s time “his girl, Friday”

Basically a “girl Friday” was a term used for a woman in the office who acted as a jack of all trades and was good at doing a bunch of different jobs. This person was usually very capable and the office’s go-to-girl for anything and everything

So I keep imagining Vox with this hyper-competent assistant. He hires her and after becoming familiar with the company, she manages to handle things before he even asks her to do them. He decides to try and rattle her a bit with impossible tasks to knock her down a peg, but she takes that as a challenge and somehow completes them with a smarmy “will that be all,sir”

Game on. He keeps challenging her and asking for crazier shit just to prove that she can be shaken. She doesn’t even flinch, it’s a little intimidating and bruises his ego

Eventually he’s working late (which means she’s working late because somehow their work ethics are equally insane) and he starts being all snide and pissy and she just puts him in his place, insulting his behavior and his temper and physically backs him into his desk before telling him that he needs to be taught proper manners

And from then on, by day she’s Vox’s right hand who never leaves his side. But by night she bends her boss over his desk or presses him into his office chair, making him whimper and moan as she teaches him a lesson and berates him

So yeah, boss tries to dominate assistant but she effortlessly reverses their roles and makes him cry “Yes, ma’am!”

People think he’s tapping his assistant but whenever comments are made they share a look and Vox just thinks “they can’t ever know that I call you Mommy”

So the other day, I posted about wanting to do a human Vox au but lacking ideas, and one of the comments was involving an assistant x boss type deal. I don’t know if this ask is unrelated or directly caused by that post, but it gives me lots of ideas for a more specific au involving human Vox.

Anyways, since it wasn’t specified, i’ll keep the alive or dead details pretty vague. When I tell you this idea has been rotting in my brain all day, I fucking mean it.

Like this is genuinely about to get me out of writers block oh my fucking god. “His girl, friday” is a term i’ve never heard before but it’s so fitting with this. I love the go-getter incredibly efficient reader so much.

And god, it would bother Vox to an ungodly point. Because being in close quarters a lot, you being his assistant, of course he picks up on your efficiency. It makes him a little insecure because you honestly get things done quicker than he could.

So after throwing everything he can at you to knock you overboard your parade of orderliness, and you doing it all absolutely flawlessly, he can’t help but throw one of his tantrums.

Coming to him at the the end of the day, explaining you did everything he’d asked, and went beyond, closed multiple business deals for him, and got the inside information on upcoming possible marketing events. He should be happy, this objectively helps his business. But instead, he sits at his desk, watching you from across the room, before absolutely exploding.

I mean, you do his jobs better than he does. And he goes on a huge rant about how he doesn’t believe this, and how you must have absolutely no life, and basically degrading and insulting you for doing your job correctly.

And then yes, you yell at him, practically daring him to fire you. He won’t, you’re too much of an asset. You’re basically untouchable. So with that, you yell back, but unlike Vox who erupted with rage, you keep yourself as level headed as possible while talking sternly. Make even talking to him condescending as of talking to a child, explaining how it’s absolutely unbelievable he’s throwing a fit over good work ethic, and how he’d have to be out of his mind to pout about something so beneficial for Voxtech.

Going on and on about how his competitive, aggressive, targeting work behavior is unacceptable and pathetic… and now you have him back up against his desk, his sneer turning into a look of astonishment.

And then his eyes dart down, heat rising to his cheeks, and you notice the bulge in his pants. At first, you go silent, but then tease him with “You want me to take care of that too? Or will you yell at me for being too good at my job.”

Well, then he’s mad again. Probably definitely a struggle for power the first time you fuck. Yes, he tries to dom you, and fails because jesus, he really was pathetic. But you have him lied back in his chair, pinning his wrists down to either side of him, while you ride his dick into overstimulation. But he’s trying to keep quiet so no one else is the office hears his whimpers and whines.

But when he gets too loud, simply remind him that you’ll have to stop and he responds with a watery, whimper of “Y-yes ma’am.”

Now, fridays are dedicated to his girl, friday. Coincidentally, you’re both working late on those days, and even more coincidentally, you have business in his office.

That business being bending Vox over his desk until he has to cover his pathetic sobs with his hand so a janitor doesn’t hear him crying for his mommy.

Anyways, I’m almost done. I think this specifically appeals to me in a human Vox au sense because i’m hell, a work place of hell wouldn’t be particularly normalized, but it’s hell so it’s absolutely not frowned upon. He’d probably get teased about it at best, and literally a high five for tapping that. But in a human au, the stakes are much higher because there’s an actual sense of ethics and morals in business.

Also in the fifties, do you even know how taboo it would be for a boss to not only be sleeping with his assistant, but getting dominated by her every night???? I dunno.

Oh and the toxic masculinity of it all because it’s the 1950s and without being exposed to the normalization of kinks in hell, it would be so hard to break this brat down. Obviously not impossible, it’s Vox. But so much more irritating.

However, i’m hesitant to actually do a human au literally because of the silly picture I always put at the beginning. Because like I have such a specific image of what he looks like in my head (the @//notherpuppet human design) but… I don’t want to have to DM an artist and be like “Hey! love the art, can I use it for my dom reader power dynamic assistant x boss Vox x reader human au fic 😁😁😁🙏🙏” LIKE GANG I CANNOT.

Anyways, this wasn’t proofread, rant over, bimbo out.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #vox x reader #inbox open #sub vox

[mockerycrow]

You’re Alive (Gaz x GN!Reader)

gaz masterlist - gazfest 2023 @glitterypirateduck

PROMPTS: “One-shot” + “Safe House” + “Let Me See You”

SUMMARY: After receiving a facial scar, you have been jumpy—Kyle is here to show you that’s it’s all okay.

A/N: Honestly, I’m not the happiest with this but I decided to stop being picky with it!! So I hope my contribution to gazfest is satisfactory <3

[WARNINGS: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, moderate descriptions of gore, allusion to PTSD.]

Your leg kept bouncing like whatever gnawing feeling in your gut wasn’t going to stop unless your leg was going a million miles per minute. The clock on the wall ticked every second oh so quietly, and it was overall silent aside from the ticking and your body squeaking. You felt like a live wire attached to a brick of dynamite, ready to explode at any given time—ready to kill whoever holds the brick. Despite it being an hour or two since you and Kyle arrived at the safehouse, you remain at the only window in the entire building. In your arms rests your rifle with your safety switched to “semi” for semi-automatic, like you’re expecting someone to come barreling in through the door, or come through the tree line.

Kyle doesn’t blame you for the way you have been acting, honestly. He knows you’ve been different since you got your facial scar a few months back—you were required to go through a psychological evaluation to be deemed fit for duty, and it’s moments like this where Kyle—guiltily—wonders how you passed “with flying colors”, so the doctor said. He doesn’t understand how the Captain hasn’t see your behavior either, or if he has, he hasn’t done anything about it. Kyle means well about all of this, too. He’s worried about you. He’s seen the way your eyes scan every room, the way you’re too ready to raise your weapon to kill, the way you snarl at anyone who is casually holding a knife outside of combat.. There’s so many signs pointing to something, a deeper problem, that he is wondering how the psychologist still has a job.

You’ve begun to wear a mask that obscures your face from your nose down.

You offered to take first watch—he notes that you’re like Ghost in that regard, you can’t calm down after a highly intense situation, so you gotta do what you gotta do, right? But the way you’re so.. jumpy, you keep jolting and looking at Kyle every time he shifts, making a slight noise?—that’s concerning. He’s used to Ghost’s incredible alertness, the way he doesn’t like his back faced to the door of the rooms he enters, Kyle is used to when Ghost sits in the far corner so he can see every inch of the room—but he was terrified when you began to do it, too. You’ve always been vigilant, sure, but you’re.. Something is very wrong.

Kyle watches from his spot on the ragged, torn couch that had to be taken from the curb in a nearby neighborhood. His own rifle is propped up against the couch, his pistol resting on the coffee table in front of himself. He watches the way your eyes flicker across the skyline, the puffy eyebags you have almost seem like they’re worsening by the moment. Kyle is also exhausted—you two have been traveling from safehouse to safehouse for about a week, trying to meet up with the rest of the task force.. With no support, of course.

He calls your name, and he makes a mental note of how your finger twitches closer to the trigger than before. “You need to rest.” He grunts out, pushing himself off of the couch. Kyle turns and grabs his rifle, holding the hefty weapon to his chest as he naturally copies your perfectly practiced pose. He looks up and looks at you—and you haven’t moved a muscle. “Hey, y’hear me?” Kyle voice is laced with concern as he takes his steps towards you, and he makes the mistake of tapping your shoulder—because suddenly he’s facing the silencer of your semi-automatic rifle. Cold panic shoots through his veins and his gut, his muscles going rigid as if he’s a deer in headlights. His eyes search for yours, locking eyes; and you’re out of it. He knew something was wrong.

“Oi,” Kyle speaks with the softest tone he can manage with a gun nearly pressing into the bridge of his nose. “Oi, it’s me. Gaz, mate. It’s Kyle.” Your eyes search his face desperately, and he’s silently begging for you to speak. The tension in his stomach is twisting and turning, threatening to snap—you show no signs of any recognization of him, someone who you have trusted for years by this point, someone who was the one to get your guts inside of your abdomen after an ambush, the one who held your face together after the attack—

Kyle does things before he thinks about it sometimes, and it seems to happen a lot more often with you than anyone else, so he’s silently cursing himself out when he slowly raises a hand to your cheek—his heart pounding against his rib cage, like it’s screeching to escape and run away. He has a rifle pressing against his nose, nearly right between his eyes, and what does he do? Kyle holds your covered cheek, his gloved hand cradling it just like how he did when he found you. Your eyebrow muscles punch inwards for a moment, your eyelids fluttering from the touch.

He watches the way your eyes scan his face, the way you’re trying to decipher whether he’s friend or foe—and he sees it when you know it’s him. Your eyes widen every so slightly and your rifle trembles in your grasp, lowering it and you flip the safety back on. “Gaz, I..” You croak for a moment, taking a small step back. Kyle let’s out a breath he didn’t he was holding, along with all of that tension holding up in body. He reaches for you again as you pinch the bridge of your nose, one of his hands swiftly taking the rifle from you, the other gently cradling your cheek again. “Shh, it’s alright,” He murmurs, his stomach tightening with anxiety. Your eyes fall closed for a moment as Kyle lets your rifle drop to the ground next to where both of you stand.

“It’s alright.” Kyle repeats, his other hand coming up to cradle your other cheek. You ever so slightly flinch in his touch, but you don’t pull away. Your hands come up to cover his own, a choked noise leaving your throat. “Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe.” His lips are next to your ear now, voice dripping like honey into your eardrums, trickling down your spine with a warmth only he’s been able to provide for you. You can borderline feel his heat from beneath his gloves, seeping into your skin from on top of your mask, too. It grounds you enough for you to take a wonderfully oxygen filled breath.

“There y’go, yeah..” Kyle praises you softly, the air from between his lips brushing against your ear and causing you get goosebumps. You inhale once again, slower and deeper—and you get the comforting scent of Kyle, mixed in with the sweat and dirt. Nonetheless, it’s something you find extreme comfort in. As Kyle brings you down from your panicked feelings, he’s swaying you ever so slightly. After you let out a soft shuddering breath, he pulls away from your ear. “Let me see you,” He whispers, causing your eyes to shoot open, scanning his face with panic. You begin to shake your head but his hands remain in place. Kyle’s hands don’t move to remove your mask, as he’s always been good with your boundaries—but his eyes are pleading you.

“Please.” You lock eye contact with him as you debate this; you haven’t showed your face willingly since you were in the hospital, right? You began to cover your face as soon as you could without medical repercussions. You keep scanning his eyes, his muscles in his face, and then it hits you—Kyle doesn’t beg you of anything—the last time he saw your face, was when it was split in two, when he was holding your face in place. You know the attack fucked with him, too. Your barracks were next to his, and after the attack, you were hyper-vigilant. You woke up from every noise, and every night—you heard him stumble out of his room, always at night. Panicked.

You take a slow, deep breath—and you nod. You close your eyes, trying to give yourself some comfort. You feel his fingers hook into the soft material of your mask, and he pulls it down to under your chin. You don’t open your eyes just yet, but you can’t help the small flinch when you feel his gloved thumb trace part of your pink scar that’s deep in your lip. Your heart is hammering in your throat as his finger continues to slowly follow the scar’s path, from your bottom lip trailing to your nose, rearing a gory right, a deeper part of the scar scaling through your right cheek, and taking a harsh upwards turn, just narrowly missing your eye, but cutting deep into your eyebrow.

“There you are.” He whispers, his voice barely steady. Your eyes flutter open and you look at Kyle, and your eyebrows raise ever so slightly at the sight of tears brimming in his own eyes, pure relief all over his expression. “Thought I lost you forever, huh?” Kyle tries to laugh, but his voice cracks, causing a rare laugh to be pulled out of your chest. You reach up and your breath hitches as you wipe away a tear that had begun to slide down his cheek. “I’m.. I’m okay, Kyle.” You respond and he shakes his head, sniffling for a moment, his eyes tracing every part of your face, like you’ll disappear again. “You aren’t,” He confirms. “And that’s alright. You’re alive, and here with me, that’s enough for now.”

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #cod #mw2022 #mw2 2022 #modern warfare ii #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x gn!reader #kyle garrick x gn!reader #kyle gaz garrick x gn!reader #gazfest #gaz mw2 #gaz #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #gaz modern warfare #kyle gaz garrick #cod gaz #gaz <3 #i love gaz #mw2 fanfic #mwii #mwii gaz #gaz mwii #kyle gaz garrick x you #gaz x you

[hw4-l1z]

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Ot6 reaction to being called 'good boy'

Sub!xdinary heroes x dom!m!reader

Cw: mentions of gym// mentions of food// mention of sex for gunils (?)

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Gunil

♡ Blushes so hard.

♡ Just the way you said it made him feel so weak in the knees.

♡ You didn't even mean it in a sexual manner. He was helping out with making dinner for everyone and he was cutting up some vegetables to add in to the meat you were currently cooking. You come over to where he was since you needed to add them in now. You thought he had done a really good job so you gave him a pat on the head followed with a 'good boy'.

♡ He just stood there frozen, eyes wide and his jaw slightly open, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. You just chuckled, smirking to yourself at this new information that your boyfriend likes being called a good boy. You definitely use it on him in the bedroom.

Jungsu

♡ Smiley boy honestly

♡ He was so happy when you called him it

♡ You had asked him to help with some cleaning up since you had a bit of difficulty due to your injured wrist and ofc he said yes...he's a good boy. Since your wrist had been bandaged up you asked him to do the dishes for you since you couldn't get the bandage wet. About 20 minutes later you come back from cleaning your bedroom and he had just finished up putting away some dishes.

♡ 'All done, anything else?' he asked. 'Nope that's it' you gave him a little smile as you walked up to him. 'Thank you, good job...my good boy' you praised him as you gave him a little kiss on the lips. His eyes immediately brightened as a silly little smile appeared, 'I'm a good boy?' he asked rocking on the balls of his feet. 'Yes, you're a very good boy'.

Gaon

♡ Honestly he turned into a giggling blushy mess

♡ Ended up squealing cause he was so excited at the name

♡ You had taken him out to an arcade for a date. He was practically bouncing in his seat the whole car ride there, you had to try settle him down cause you thought he would explode tbh. Once you had both got there he was instantly on the machines while you went to get some more extra change for the day. You may have lost him for a few minutes since he had run off to play on more machines but you eventually found him at one of the claw machines. 'I'm gonna try win this one' he said with a big child-like grin on his face, 'not to burst your bubble baby but claw machines are rigged, they make you pay lots of money before you can win them' but oh how you were wrong

♡ It took him only 3 tries and he had gotten the stuffy he wanted. The look of shock crossed your face as he looks at you a smugly holding the stuffy, 'never mind... good boy, I underestimated you' you said giving him a pat on the head. He didn't really register anything else you said but 'good boy'. his face lit up as he jumped up and down and squealed, you just looked it him confused. 'I'm a good boy?' he said with a big smile, 'of course you are' you chuckled.

O.de

♡ He just blushed

♡ Didn't say a word...just sat there flustered

♡ You had come to the gym with him since he had begged to be your gym partner. you did go regularly so it wasn't a bother for you, you just didn't know if he could keep up with you. So you put it to the test, you wore this poor boy OUT. He knew he'd be in a lot of pain the next day but he likes a challenge so he full sent it. He was doing his last few squats when you told him 'five more', he sighed out as he began to do five more. 'One more come on' you had said that one to many times, wanting to push his limits. Eventually he was on the last one, his body unable to do anymore as he fell onto the ground with a yelp.

♡ 'Good boy, you did a good job' you said patting his back. He just looked at you slowly, not understanding why those two words gave him butterflies. You crouched down next to him smirking 'what? did i fluster you?' you said teasingly as he turned away and pushes you over 'shut up'.

Junhan

♡ Blushed a little

♡ Issues out a little 'thank you'

♡ He had been away at band practise for the day so you decided to pay him a little visit. You had brought him some food along the way so he could have a big lunch to last him for a good while since you know he forgets to eat. You took him away so it was the two of you as you ate the food together. Usually he doesn't tend to finish his meals so to see that he had eaten everything you bought for him it made you happy.

♡ 'Oh good boy, you ate it all' you say with a smile, he looks up at you with a shy look and a soft smile, his ears and cheeks a little pink 'thank you...' he slightly bows his head at you. 'Of course, now...you should probably get back to practise'.

Jooyeon

♡ Another super happy smiley boy

♡ Had the biggest smile on his face

♡ He had been working away at his computer for a while. He was writing up some lyrics that he had thought of. He'd been working hard for a good few hours now and you were wondering if he'd ever stop. Eventually he did, finishing it up and saving it to his computer. He asked if you wanted to have a read and of course you said yes. You thought they were great and he explained all the deeper meanings to the lyrics which impressed you a lot so of course you praised him for it.

♡ 'Wow you did a great job baby I'm impressed...good boy' you said, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your side. He turned to look at you with the happiest smile on his face 'really? thank you!'

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#sub!idol #dom!malereader #dom!reader #sub!kpop #xdinary heroes x male reader #xdinary heroes x reader #gunil x reader #jungsu x reader #gaon x reader #o.de x reader #junhan x reader #jooyeon x reader

[turvi]

Last Christmas

GIF IS NOT MINE, CREDIT TO GIF OWNER

Pairings: George Weasley x fem!Reader, Harry Potter x fem!Reader (ex)

Warning: cheating, angst/fluff, smut, kissing. no voldy au coz that bish is depressing.

MDNI 18+

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart But the very next day, you gave it away This year, to save me from tears I'll give it to someone special

You loved Christmas so much and you were excited to share it with your first boyfriend who happened to be The Chosen One. You asked your parents if you could celebrate Christmas with your friends this year and celebrate New Year with them.

They agreed knowing how hard it was for you to make friends and how much they mean to you. You were wrapping up gifts by the fireplace in the common room when Hermione and Weasley Twins joined you by the couch.

"Hey, have you seen Harry?"Hermione asked fiddling with your cello tape.

"You can talk to me also, my mom tells me I am quite a special child," you said good-naturedly and the group laughed at your quip.

"I know you are very special love you know what I mean" Hermione rolled her eyes at the sight of you chuckling at your stupid joke.

"I am kidding last I saw him he stayed back at the Quidditch Ground after his practice"

Hermione ruffled your hair and quickly left to find her best friend. You soon noticed the twins were still here. While the younger twin fell into an easy conversation with you George couldn't help but look at how beautiful you looked in the light emanating from the fireplace. How your smile brightens up his day or how your friendly touches set his soul on fire.

"You know I also think you are quite special love," George said donning his usual smirk.

You giggled knowing how George has been flirting with you ever since you got to know him. You had to remind yourself that you had a boyfriend when he would even look at you. Surely it's nothing. Right?

He loved Harry like his own brother but did he have to take the only girl who has managed to light up his heart like a Christmas tree? To put it in layman's terms George Weasley was in love with the chosen one's girlfriend who was like his brother. He felt so guilty but also glad that because of Harry he got to know you.

As Hermione made her way toward the quidditch ground she saw Harry locking lips with Cho. His hands were on her waist, hers on his collar.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER" Hermione was infuriated with her best friend. He separated from Cho in seconds.

"Hermione I can explain please don't tell Y/n"

"Explain my foot Potter I am disappointed in you if you didn't love her you could have broken up with her, honestly what is wrong with you?"

"Please don't tell her"

This made her furious

"Potter you are my best friend and I say this with respect but you are an arsehole if you think I will take your side this time"

She turned around making her way to the common room thinking about how will she break the news.

------------

A year later

Once bitten and twice shy I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye Tell me baby, do you recognize me? Well, it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me

To say last year's Christmas was hard for you was an understatement. Hermione told you how sorry she was that she caught Harry and Cho making out and how disappointed she was in Harry.

You still remember how she looked at you expecting you to cry or throw a fit something but all you did was leave your gifts there and got up from the couch

"Make sure everyone gets their gifts" with that you made your way to your room. You were more disappointed than heartbroken because you had been seeing how Harry looked at Cho and while some part of you just waited for him to look at you like that your relationship with him was a ticking bomb waiting to explode.

And it did. You just didn't expect it to be that soon because you did genuinely love Harry and for him to break your heart like this was disappointing.

Now that Harry had shattered your heart George took his sweet time to mend your broken heart. He has waited this long to be with you he can wait longer if it meant he got to be with you because deep down he knows all the wait will be worth it.

Christmas was next month and you were nervous. Everyone was going to be there and you know it was going to be awkward.

"I am going to be there too you know?"George held your hand gently.

You were so thankful to have him around to shoot down any insecure thoughts you had. To be honest they started brewing when you started noticing how different Harry started to behave around Cho. How he had all the compliments reserved for her. How he was there for you but never really there for you.

"I know George but I have been enough burden for you, you need a break from my constant complaining too" you tried your best not to let your voice waver.

"That's not correct yesterday you were just crying," he said jokingly

You chuckled. This has been a cycle for a year. You cried and George made you laugh. You felt a similar feeling bubbling when he held your hand gently, or if he would listen to you with such concentration, or if he would look at you like you are the only person in the room.

It was getting a bit overwhelming because you never felt like this with Harry and you almost felt bad to get over Harry this quickly. Almost. He held your hand again.

"I am going to be there for you Y/n," he said, you noticed how his eyes flicked to your lips for a minute. There was no way he had feelings for you right? No, it was wrong for your friend's older brother to feel this way.

"Can I kiss you?" his eyes widened at your words and the moment you thought about apologizing you felt his lips on you. He kissed you so gently. You felt your heartbeat increase as he cupped your jaw to kiss you properly.

He breaks the kiss to take a breather. You like how he looks right now. Out of breath, cheeks blushing, pupils dilated.

"Sorry I just had to kiss you, I have been wanting to do that for a very long time." his cheeks got redder at his own confession.

"How long?" your voice soft and genuine

"Since the day I saw you," he said cupping your cheeks again.

"But I was with Harry that time"

"Yes it broke my heart watching you with him, but it was crushing my soul to watch your heartbreak time and again." he brushed your cheeks with his thumbs as he spoke up again "It is fine if you want to take time"

"If you don't mind let's take it slow, we can still go on dates and do something you like?"You didn't want to agree that somewhere in your heart you had liked George Weasley too when he would relentlessly flirt with you but also check up on you when you felt down. A trait you find missing in your previous partner.

"Well lovie I would also love to do something you like to do" he was beaming with the fact that you wanted to give him a chance. He got closer to you and noticed how your breath hitched.

"And I will wait for you as long as I get to be yours" he smirked noticing your cheeks flush.

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Christmas Day

I'll give it to someone I'll give it to someone special Who'll give me something in return I'll give it to someone (hold my heart) I'll give it to someone special (it wants to go)

You were standing at the entrance of the burrow. You were a bit early and you could already hear chatter from inside. It made you more nervous. You knocked on the door and Molly welcomed you with a bright smile.

"Good Evening Mrs. Weasley Happy Christmas" you gave her your own version of a bright smile.

"Oh, Y/nn you and your formalities how many times have I told you to call me Molly."

"Sorry...uh yes Molly" she guided you toward the living where everyone was settled in front of the fireplace. As soon as you settled down a familiar voice made itself known.

"You are looking beautiful Y/n"

You looked up to see Harry looking at you whilst Cho held to him with her dear life.

You gave him a small smile "Thank you Harry you too"

Ron and Hermione chuckled lightly, you looked at them mockingly confused.

"Y/n I'll get you a hot chocolate, make yourself comfortable"

Before Molly could move a voice from the staircase interrupted her.

"Mum let me get her hot chocolate you can rest"George huffed

"My sweet boy, it's on the stove" she pinched his cheek as his eyes took you in with a smirk on his lips.

You have tried to keep your relationship a secret although you have seen Molly and Fred give you a knowing look and right now Fred settled himself beside you and wondered loudly.

"George never got me anything" his face looked so serious you almost apologized on behalf of George.

"Yeah me neither," Ron said while looking for more marshmallows.

George soon appeared with your hot chocolate and some snacks on a plate.

"Snacks too?!" Percy exclaimed bewildered at his brother's behavior.

George quickly settled himself between you and Fred. While George gave you heart eyes Fred poked him on his arms.

"You know there is plenty of space?"

"Yes but it's warm here," he said his eyes not leaving yours, while Fred rolled his eyes he was happy to see George so happy with you.

While others continued their chatter you were both involved in subtle touches. It surprised you really you never thought you were the touchy kind but it has always been a bit different with George.

"Someone is starring daggers on my back" he giggled looking pointedly towards Harry.

"And? What am I supposed to do about that?" all you could see was how George's nose and cheeks were blushing and how much you wanted to kiss it.

"You are staring love" he smirked but internally he was bursting with love.

"You reckon I stare at someone else?" you giggled as he put a hand on his chest and scowled at you mockingly.

"Y/n L/n don't you dare stare at someone else other than me."

The lovebirds were unaware they still had the chosen one's attention. He didn't mean to feel so angsty on a Christmas Day when he had his girlfriend beside him but he had missed you. They say you take things for granted until you lose them. Harry Potter took you for granted and lost you to George Weasley. It made him sick that you looked happier with him, more in love.

--------

Things could not get worse for Harry Potter right now. Everyone was sleeping peacefully but he had a big fight with Cho about how he didn't pay attention to her one bit today. It got worse when he realized you and George were in the next room.

Sounds of the bed creaking, and soft moans could be heard. He forced his eye shut when he heard you.

"I'm yours, George."

"Uh, babe you really mean that?" he asked as if he was not thrusting himself into you right now

"Yes Georgie, I know it took me time but I realized that you are my muse George Weasley I am glad you fell in love with me"

George lovingly smiled at you "I'm glad you fell in love with me"

At that moment Harry realized he lost something special to George. Harry cried himself to sleep that night your dreams haunting him.

#Spotify #george weasley x fem #george weasley x you #harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter series #harry potter x reader #hp fandom #harry potter x fem!reader #george weasley #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley smut #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine

[floral-poisons]

driving with prefects

in honor of constantly being reminded that leona can drive, i am writing up a brief dorm leader head canon post. i just think it would be a fun set of head canons, you know? (also it’s been a bit since i’ve posted like content).

i haven’t read any translations for the new event ft. leona and whatnot. so if my head canons don’t align with canon...take it with a grain of salt.

for the sake of these head canons, i’m mostly thinking about manual cars. because i know magic enhanced technology exists within twst. but when i think about driving, i’m thinking about like...regular cars, you know.

malleus draconia

unfamiliar is malleus with manual cars. after all, they’re so different from vehicles operated by magic alone. when he gets behind the wheel, he’s very cautious. sometimes, the things he does are reckless (your heart was beating so fast it would have exploded). but that’s because he isn’t used to driving with stick. or even having experience with manually shifting the car into different modes. he also needs to put his seat as far back as possible because of how tall he is and he needs a tall car so his horns aren’t squished. it can get very uncomfortable very quickly.

child of man, this car is very confusing. how do i activate the windshield wipers? i would not want us to get into an accident.

riddle rosehearts

getting on the road is honestly the worst for him. riddle is an anxious driver. he hates traffic, hates people honking at him, and most certainly hates getting on parkways and highways. he doesn’t mind driving in the countryside where he can drive smoothly and as fast as he desires. no one’s around after all. but with other people, he becomes a mess. he also has a bit of road rage within him. you’ve never heard someone curse as much as he did when someone cut him off. riddle also happens to follow the rules a little too well. he’s always going under or at the speed limit, always checking his blind spots, always signalling his turns even in parking lots. he is, arguably, the best parker.

oh come on! didn’t even signal while switching lanes! cut me off and everyone else too! there’s more than you in the world you know!

vil schoenheit

vil is an awful driver. not in the sense that he doesn’t follow the general rules of driving (because great seven forbid he gets into an accident and it becomes a scandal) but in the way that his braking tends to be...janky. his turns can range from being smooth to jarring. and the man lacks the ability to park. he’s horrible at parking. you learned your lesson when you got into the car with him driving (better off with rook). ironically, he’s a lot better at driving while he’s multitasking, like touching up his makeup or answering phone calls. honestly, he just needs a little practice. with every drive, he improves even in the slightest. he has no problem dedicating hours to practicing driving either. he just doesn’t have the time right now.

normally i don’t drive. my father had drivers for me. but i can. it’s just...been a while. i’m a little rusty is all.

leona kingscholar

leona, having driven for a while now, is one of the best drivers amongst the prefects (and arguably the whole school). he follows the general rules but definitely enjoys going fast. he especially likes to take scenic routes (there’s something peaceful about late night drives, you know). however, he is very possessive of the aux. you’re not allowed to play your playlists unless it’s a really long trip. besides, he prefers to listen to podcasts and audiobooks while driving. he kind of has a conversation with the audiobook or podcast. it’s cute to watch leona react in real time.

that is ridiculous! doesn’t she understand that he’s the bad guy? that he’s awful? she’s better off getting with the second lead anyways!

azul ashengrotto

putting a creature from the seat into a car is a bad idea. there’s only one person that is, arguably, worse than vil. and that is azul. now, it’s not really azul’s fault. he’s not really used to land traffic rules. but that doesn’t take away from the fact that you have almost gotten into a plethora of accidents with azul behind the wheel. he gets pretty anxious while on the road and does his turn signals, lane changes. but he’s pretty awful at guessing distance and lacks spatial awareness. naturally, this also inhibits his parking skills. his parking skills are pretty awful.

the coral sea traffic is not nearly as bad. i mean half of these rules don’t even make sense (y/n)!

kalim al-asim

kalim is a wonderful driver! his driving is really smooth and he’s a joy with to be in the car. there’s always something to talk about while he’s driving. and he’ll let you play your music, podcast, audiobook. the two of you have had so many lovely conversations while driving. there isn’t much to say. plus, kalim is pretty great at parking too. he’s always willing to go on errand runs with you and take you out on late night drives.

oh (y/n)! you need to get something from the grocery store? i was heading there anyways. hop in!

idia shroud

much to your surprise, you learned that idia is not an anxious driver. he seems like he would be. but no. he feels like he’s in a video game whenever he drives. and he absolutely loves the adrenaline rush that he gets from going fast. slamming on that gas petal is extremely satisfying to him. furthermore, traffic becomes a puzzle to him. a puzzle to solve on how to get out of traffic. everyone else becomes npcs. and you have almost thrown up from how motion sick you’ve gotten in his car.

ohohoho! traffic? guess we can play a game of how to escape! it should be relatively easy considering how all the normies drive.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #dorm leaders #diasomnia #ignihyde #pomefiore #savanaclaw #scarabia #octavinelle #heartslabyul #malleus draconia #riddle rosehearts #vil schoenheit #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #idia shroud #kalim al asim

[septnautical]

"I need to get out of here. I can't breathe" with whoever you think it would fit? Feels like an Anti or maybe Jackie thing to me

(How bout both of them? :D)

Anti was taking Jackie for hunting practice. He was still kinda little but Schneep didn’t like hunting and Marvin was more interested in playing and watching over Jameson. But, Jackie was always eager to hunt. So, Anti liked his company. Not that he’d ever say that outloud- cuz he was also annoying. Always chattering in his ear.

The whole swim here was that constantly. Just- “Hey Anti? Do you think bladderfish actually have a bladder they use or is it just full of water? Do you know why rabbit rays sound like that? Why do crash fish explode? I want to be friends with them but they always blow up in my face! Hey Anti- Anti! Anti anti anti!!”

Honestly- the sea dragon mer was relieved when the questions seemed to die down. He didn’t even think much of it. Just diving down deep into one of his frequent vents- searching for his favorite kind of fish: red eyeyes. He barely glances back at Jackie as he calls out, going deeper, “okay so- gotta watch out for the larve they taste nasty but they could be good practice! And also avoid the lava lizards but we may have to fight them for the good stuff.”

Anti expected to hear Jackie’s enthusiastic voice respond right away. But… he didn’t.

“…Jackie?”

“A-Anti… I… I don’t feel v-very good…” Jackie’s meek voice echoed a little ways back. Anti turned back around and tilted his head back towards Jackie.

“…did you eat a larve?” He asks with a bit of exasperation.

“N-No…” Jackie whines. Now, Anti is worried. He hurriedly swims over and checks over the tiny merman. Jackie seems pale- and his gills are hardly flaring. Anti touches his shoulder and- he’s hot. I mean… they’re in a heated vent but- surely he wouldn’t get this hot right?

Jackie leans against Anti as he touches him and Anti can notice his chest is hardly rising at all too. And when it does- he breathes shallowly. His eyes roll dazedly on his head.

“A-Anti… I-I think I need to get out of here…” Jackie wheezes. “I… I c-can’t breathe…”

Anti’s eyes widen. Shit! That can happen in warmer water?? He never noticed! “O-Okay- okay Jackie hang on!” Anti tells him desperately as he scoops the little reaper into his arms and swims up out of the vent as fast as his tails can take them.

They hurry back out to the shallows and- Anti is too worried to go anywhere else- he heads straight back to their cove. He quickly sets Jackie down on one of their kelp nests. He kneels down in the sand next to him and worriedly checks him over. “J-Jackie…??”

The swim back already seemed to have helped Jackie. His gills and chest seem to be back in working order. He just had a slight flush to his skin. But he does look tired. He giggles dazedly at Anti. “…I think I shouldn’t hunt in the vents, Anti…”

Anti sags to sit more in the sand and laughs. “Yeah… I think we’ll try somewhere better next time.”

#septnautical requests #huffles tales #sea dragon anti #reaper jackie #did you know in warmer waters fish can suffer suffocation? :D #whump

[aalissy]

Truth or Dare

I'm back with chapter 2! Hope you enjoy this bit of pre-relationship Adrienette fluff bc they're my favorite babies and I love them soo sooo much! Lemme know what you think <3

AO3

Marinette huffed quietly, blowing a strand of her dark hair out of her eyes. Her expression soured as her eyes narrowed towards where the sound of Alya’s laughter was coming from. 

The laughter wouldn’t have bothered her at all. She frequently rejoiced in the sound of her best friend’s giggles (particularly if Marinette was the one causing said laughter.) 

No, the issue was what Alya was laughing at.  

Liela, whose pointed smirk was aimed directly at Marinette as she placed a hand on Alya’s shoulder. 

She was taunting her. Berating her. Practically screaming haha, I was still invited to your best friend’s party even though you know that I’m a liar and have warned Alya about it countless times. 

It was only supposed to be her, Adrien, Alya, and Nino. So how did Lila manage to get invited?

Marinette’s blood simmered as she crushed her hand around her glass so tightly she was surprised it hadn’t shattered into a million tiny shards.

“Hey, careful there,” a quiet voice murmured in her ear. “Don’t want to break that glass.”

Her eyes widened and she whipped her head around as the touch of a warm hand slid softly over hers.

Marinette squeaked softly, her grip instantly loosening on the cup as it began to tumble out of her hands. She winced, preparing for the loud crash of the glass exploding all over Alya’s hardwood floor.

But it never came. 

Instead, Adrien grinned over at her sheepishly. His emerald eyes peered up at her apologetically as he extended the cup back out for her to take. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have startled you.”

“No, no!” Marinette quickly assured, rushing to take the glass back from him as their fingers bumped against one another. Her cheeks warmed and she quickly snatched her hand back. 

Her head already felt dizzy from the mere two times her hand had brushed against Adrien’s. Which, honestly, was probably going to do even worse things for her clumsiness. 

With a quiet, relieved sigh, Marinette carefully placed the glass on Alya’s center table, grateful that it was now out of danger of being harmed by her.  

“Seriously, Adrien, thank you very much for saving my glass.” Marinette nibbled on her lip shyly. “I’d have hated to make a mess in Alya’s living room.”

All at once his sheepish grin turned more charming as he bowed with a flourish. She couldn’t help but giggle when Adrien leaned back up to wink at her. “Of course, Marinette. After all, what sort of gentleman would I be if I didn’t rescue the lady's glass from falling? Especially if I was the one who almost caused said fall.” He nudged her with an elbow adding that last part in a whisper.

Marinette snorted loudly as Adrien wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Wow. It was hard to believe not two seconds ago she had been ready to murder Lila. Trust Adrien to be the only one who could make her laugh when she had been two seconds away from a blinding hot rage.

With a delicate curtsey, Marinette grinned up at him. “Well, this lady thanks you for your service.” Upon standing up she gave an exaggerated sigh, draping her hand across her forehead. “Oh, if only you could be around all the time. Do you know how many broken glasses you would be able to save for me?”

“Well, I...,” he started before someone squeezed in between them. 

Marinette blinked in surprise, taking a step back from the new arrival. She hadn’t realized how close she had been to Adrien and she felt her cheeks flush at the unexpected proximity. The giddiness soon faded away as she finally noticed who had slid in between them. 

It was Lila.

She was smiling up at Adrien, her hand spreading out on his chest even as he grimaced, leaning away from her touch.

“Hey, Adrien. We were just about to begin a game of truth or dare if you wanted to join us?” Lila asked, her sweet voice grating on her ears.

Marinette rolled her eyes, crossing her arms against her chest. Of course Lila couldn’t even be bothered to greet her as her attention remained solely on Adrien.

However, once Marinette saw his panicked gaze dart over to her pleadingly she quickly snapped out of her annoyance. Reaching around Lila, she grabbed Adrien’s hand and tugged him out of her grip. 

With a pasted-on sickly sweet grin, she said, “We’d love to join, Lila!”

She watched as Lila’s face darkened into a scowl for but an instant before it had disappeared, replaced with a copy of Marinette’s cheerful grin. “And we’d love to have you both but unfortunately there’s only room for one player. So sorry, Marinette, bu-”

Her lie was cut off as Alya joined them, sipping on her drink. “What are you talking about, Lila? I invited you over here to ask both Marinette and Adrien if they wanted to join.”

Marinette’s lips pursed as Lila’s eyes flashed with anger before she turned to Alya with a saccharine smile. “Oh, I’m sorry! I must have heard wrong. You know my tinnitus has been starting to act up again lately which just makes it so difficult to hear.”

Both Adrien and Marinette gave each other knowing looks as Alya nodded sadly, patting her friend's shoulder. “No worries, Lila. I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope it gets better again.”

Lila simply winced in return, rubbing at her ears as her lips transformed into a small pout.

“So, truth or dare then?” Adrien interjected, clapping his hands before rubbing them together.

Marinette glanced at Adrien, grateful for the distraction from Lila's presence. "Sure, let's play!"

“Great!” Alya grinned at them both before nodding over at the couch. “Let’s head on over so we can get started then.”

As the small group made their way over to the couch, Alya called out, “Hey, Nino! Truth or dare?”

“Dare, of course, babe.” 

She snickered as a wicked gleam entered her eyes. “I dare you to do a head spin.”

“Done deal!” Nino jumped up and stretched his arms out. With a slowly released breath, he did a handstand before carefully lowering his head to the ground. He actually managed to spin for a few seconds before crashing onto the floor with a loud bang.

“Nice job, babe.” Alya gave him a quick kiss when he sat back up, rubbing his head. “That looked kind of cool for the first few seconds.”

He laughed softly, stealing her hand in his as he gave it a quick squeeze. “Just trying to impress you.”

“Shut up and pick someone else to go now!” She laughed teasingly, her eyes sparkling at Nino with amusement.

He chuckled before scanning their small group, his eyes landing on Lila. “Lila, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Adrien and Marinette both couldn’t hide a snicker and she threw a fierce glare their way.

“Mmm.” Nino hummed, tapping his chin in thought. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “Ah, I got it! What’s the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you during the school year so far?”

Lila’s teeth dug into her lower lip as she lowered her head, her hair covering her face before she tucked it back behind her ear. Her eyes welled with crocodile tears as she placed a hand across her chest earnestly. “It had to have been when my Mendacii Syndrome acted up and I accidentally said that Marinette pushed me down the stairs and stole my grandmother’s pendant. You know I didn’t mean any of those things, right Marinette? And you must know how sorry I am that I said that.”

Marinette’s nails dug harshly into her skin as she tried to bite back the harsh laugh that nearly left her lips. Lila had almost gotten her expelled and she wanted her to believe she was sorry?!  

Pfft, yeah right.

With anger simmering in her blood, she opened her mouth to shout that she’d never believe her lies again when a calming hand was placed on her leg. 

Blinking in surprise, Marinette turned to look at Adrien who slowly shook his head at her. His gaze darted to Alya and then back to her until she understood. Her best friend had already put her arms around the liar, consoling her.

“It’s alright, Lila. Marinette forgave you for this a long time ago. Didn’t you, Marinette?”

Forcing out a bitter smile, she gave a stiff nod. “Yeah. Alya’s right. It’s all water under the bridge now, Lila,” she spat out.

Lila sniffled, swiping the palm of her hand against the false tear tracks on her cheeks. A tremulous grin lit up her face as she spoke earnestly, “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that, Marinette.”

“Of course.” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but only just.

“So it’s my turn now, right?” Lila brightened considerably as she turned to Adrien. “Truth or dare?”

“Oh, uh, truth I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Boring!” Alya groaned, throwing her head back. “When are we going to get back to the dares?”

Adrien chuckled. “I promise to pick you next then.”

Alya looked over at Marinette, a devilish gleam lighting up her eyes as though she had just come up with a plan. “Deal!”

“So, who’s your biggest celebrity crush?” 

Lila asked, twirling her hair as she smirked over at Marinette who shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the question. She really didn’t want to hear Adrien talk about whichever model he was crushing on at the moment. 

“Honestly?” Adrien laughed quietly. “It’s Ladybug.”

“Amen to that sunshine!” Alya cheered, thrusting her glass in the air.

Marinette felt her cheeks instantly burn a bright red. 

Ladybug was Adrien’s celebrity crush? 

Ladybug?! 

Her mouth dried as she instantly conjured up a fantasy of swooping into Adrien’s room one day and stealing his lips in a sweet kiss. Feeling suddenly hazy from the beautifully conjured scenario, Marinette shook her head as she snapped back into focus on their game.

Alya had just come running back into the living room, clutching a black marker to her chest. “Come on, Nino. You heard the man. Give me the funniest mustache you can!”

Pursing his lips in concentration, Nino plucked the marker from her as he began to draw an outrageously large handlebar mustache above Alya’s lips. When he was done, he pulled back and gestured to her face. “My masterpiece is done.”

The group giggled at the sight as Alya scrambled for her phone. After looking at it in her camera, she also burst into laughter. “Good job, babe! I look amazing!” 

Wiggling her lips back and forth, Alya deepened her voice. “Now I better not catch you young whippersnappers staying up too late tonight!”

Their group roared with laughter at the sight and Marinette wiped a tear of joy from her eye.

“Alright, it’s my turn now, right?” Alya snickered, turning over to look at her with a giddy smirk. “Marinette, you haven’t gone yet! Truth or dare?”

She gulped in a deep breath, every muscle in her body tensing. She was unable to keep her gaze from darting over to Adrien. 

Well, this was nerve-wracking. She either chose truth and had to reveal her crush to him or chose dare and had to do something embarrassing in front of him.

Alright, dare it was then.

“D-dare,” Marinette stuttered, nibbling nervously on her lower lip.

“I’ll give you two options for your dare then, alright?” Alya gave her a small, gentle smile. “I dare you to either text your crush and let us all see what you type...”

Alright. Nope. That was not happening. She was not gonna let everyone watch her type a message to Adrien. Option 2 it was then.

“...Or kiss the hottest person in the room.”

Scratch that! Rewind! 

“T-Truth! I-I meant truth!” Marinette choked out. 

“Ooh, too late for that I’m afraid.” Alya tsked, shaking her head. “You chose dare and those are your two options.”

Lila’s voice interjected before she could continue to plead for her case. “I don’t know, Alya. Marinette has seemed pretty shy and scared this whole night. Maybe you should let her do a redo.”

Marinette glared over at her. Well, now she was absolutely doing one of Alya’s dares. No way was she going to let Lila call her a coward!

Mustering up all the Ladybug courage that she had, she turned to face Adrien. Drawing in a deep breath, she slowly leaned towards him. 

As Marinette leaned in towards him, her heart raced with both nervousness and excitement. Adrien watched her, his emerald eyes wide with curiosity and just a hint of what seemed to be anticipation. 

Marinette began closing the distance between them, her lips hovering just inches away from him. Very, very softly, she closed her eyes and brushed a kiss against his cheek. His skin was warm beneath her and she fought the urge to linger.

Before she could do something stupid, like bring her lips closer to his own, Marinette pulled back. Not wanting to look directly at Adrien, she didn’t open her eyes until after she faced the rest of the group. “A-alright then, w-who, um, wants to go next?”

The room was silent for a few beats and she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat before Lila spoke up, “You can do me next, Marinette!”

Bemoaning the fact that it was Lila who saved her from the awkward silence, she cleared her throat. “Okay truth or dare?” 

While waiting for her answer, Marinette snuck a glance over to Alya who mouthed call me later over to her. 

Feeling slightly confused, she gave Lila an easy truth after she responded. She already knew she wouldn’t get an honest response anyway.

Marinette raised an eyebrow at her best friend, wondering what she was talking about. Alya glanced pointedly at Adrien before her gaze flicked back over to her.

Carefully, she snuck a peek over at the boy sitting next to her. Her own cheeks lit up as she noticed that his entire face had turned red. Her stomach fluttered giddily at the sight. Had she caused that? 

Oh, Marinette was definitely calling Alya later tonight. Now she was just dying to know her perspective! She had to know when Adrien started blushing!

#adrinetteapril2024 #adrienetteapril2024 #adrinetteapril #adrienetteapril #adrinette #adrienette #pre relationship #pre s5 #lila #truth or dare #ladrien #cheek kiss

[giordirossi]

BEHIND THE MASK

A question never asked, yet answered all the same.   Date: Between April 10th-20th, 2024. Warnings: None.

Phone calls shouldn't drag out for longer than fifteen minutes tops, at least in Giordana's opinion.

Unless, of course, she happened to be caught in the endless conversational circle that was ringing her folks back in Launceston. Those always devolved after a quarter of an hour, playing catch up with mild news and constantly skirting around the massive elephant on the line surrounding her work. Inevitably they ran out of topics to hash out and resorted to rundowns of local obituaries, what birds her father saw in the yard that week, and when, for the love of the baby Lord Jesus himself, would she settle down with a nice Italian Catholic boy?

Which admittedly elicited more silent smirks than quick goodbyes these days. The kind only viewed by her reflection in the floor length mirror as she sat engulfed in the fabric of a shirt her very non-Italian, non-Catholic boyfriend left behind.

Tonight there were no private, mischievous smiles. No gossip about people from the old neighborhood. No jovial atmosphere behind this chat whatsoever. It felt rushed, almost frantic in a way that she seldom allowed her parents to hear. Or anyone else for that matter.

“I need you and Dad to go stay with Aunt Bea in Philly for a while.” Already she could hear her mother scoff, imagining the sight of long dark hair folding on itself as she undoubtedly gave Giordana's father an incredulous look. As if their daughter was begging for leniency on her adolescent curfew. “Not forever, just... until things cool down.”

"What things?”

“Ma—“

“Well, we can’t move our entire lives. D'you know how much it costs to relocate that fast?" A thick Launceston accent practically barreled down the phone at her. "We have important events coming up, what are we supposed to tell our friends and neighbors?"

As if on instinct, two fingers pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Dad playing cards at Vespucci's and you going to the salon with Trina do not count as important events, Ma." How to make them understand the gravity and the danger if they stayed? How she couldn't protect them across the pond if everything exploded? “You know Frankie and I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious.”

After the grandiose disaster that was the awards and how tepid the Sovrani alliance with the French appeared in its aftermath, she wouldn't take chances here. With no threat of croissant retribution as a barrier back in Launceston, the Russian hyenas waiting in the shadows would turn her hometown into a bloodbath again. Anyone with ties to the organization, especially to leadership and those in their circle, were fair game.

Under no circumstance was Giordana losing the only true parents she'd ever known.

Right when she anticipated a stern remark about tone, or lack of respect for her elders, her rebuttal was only met with heavy silence on the other end of the line.

And then, "I want you to answer me honestly." Shit. "Are you and your brother in some kind of trouble over there?"

"Not yet... Maybe soon.” Which equated to all the information she could provide, despite how ominous and unclear.

“Please, can you go stay with Beatrice? We need you both out of Launceston." A sigh through the speaker. "And we’ll need you to send over anything you have in the house connected to us. Pictures, documents, third grade macaroni art, whatever's left.”

“What! Why?!”

From somewhere in the background, her father chimed in, “I thought you said this wasn’t permanent, Giordana.”

“It’s a safety precaution. I’ll text you my address in London, don’t write it down anywhere.”

Nobody would rat them out as her parents— as the Rossi’s. There were too many Sovrani sympathizers or adjacent families in the old neighborhood who all looked after each other, but not every Russian traded competency for violence. The risk of somebody snooping where they shouldn’t remained a possibility.

Maybe paranoia gripped her because it’s what she would do to find a mark, rifle through family homes looking for connections. They needed to cut ties with Launceston and their children for awhile, only then could they be safe.

***

Barely one week later and a myriad of deliveries line the hallway of Giordana's home.

Boxes full of memories from hers and Frankie’s youth, all meticulously labeled because her mother never half-assed anything in this life. From high school yearbooks to little league sports trophies. Beneath a cardboard flap, some Polaroid photo sticks out partially obscured, though she recognizes it immediately as the outside of a local ice cream parlor back home.

A man stumbled up to the counter only minutes after the photo was taken. Unsteady on his feet with a blue shirt stained purple, his hands coated in a substance she couldn't see before her father rushed them into the car.

Good ole childhood memories, right?

Documents

The large black lettering catches her eye and Giordana scoops the package up from the floor, carrying it beneath one arm to the kitchen table. Unsure what compulsion makes her curious to rifle through it, she cuts open the clear tape and lifts a few papers into the light. Perhaps in search of an embarrassing disciplinary file from Frankie's school days that she could frame on the mantle. Wouldn't that be a sight.

Most of the sheets are expected and benign, so much so that she nearly misses the one labeled Birth Certificate. To her knowledge, Frankie was in possession of his after getting married to Aria and she keeps her own in a small personal safe in the bedroom down the hall.

Correction, she owns the amended version. The one reissued after a legal adoption has taken place. Her eyes hesitate at the top of the page, not venturing any further than the title.

She'd never seen the original before.

Never wanted to, quite frankly. Any early memories before her adoption were strategically buried once the Rossi's welcomed her into their family. What good was it to learn about the mother who abandoned her? Who sang a little girl to sleep until one morning she decided to just... give her away. Forever.

Had she known what that little girl would become? Did she sense the strangeness of her own child? The birth mother was still alive somewhere, or so Giordana heard, but hardly cared enough to find out.

Yet standing in the middle of her kitchen with the evidence of a long forgotten past sitting between slender fingers, she feels the oddest pang of–– not regret exactly. More of an incompleteness, a sudden deficiency that might be cured with a single glance.

Who was she before becoming Giordana Rossi?

Her gaze lowers, skimming over the birth details she already knows. Hospital, weight, height, nothing would be altered there. The birth name is different though.

Simone Martinez.

A breathy laugh escapes suddenly, relieved and amused all at once because she can't fathom answering to the name Simone. It isn't terrible, but neither does it match her current personality. She'll be sure to inform her parents of the wise change.

Mother: Monica Martinez.

No bells ring and while she hardly expected them to, somehow that leaves her a smidge disappointed. For all the faint memories she holds of the woman who gave her life, none of this feels familiar. She can only vaguely picture the face, blurry and distorted by the passage of time.

At least the father column is guaranteed to be empty. All her parents ever told her, and all she requested to hear, was that the woman had been a single mother and the birth father was unknown. Even to this Monica person.

Giordana peers down for confirmation and her stomach instantly drops. A barely audible, "What the fuck?" passes between painted lips as she crinkles the page in her grasp while holding it closer to the light.

The second parental designation isn't a blank space at all.

Father: Artur Petrov.

No.

No, that–– it must be a typo. Or a forgery.

Maybe her father planted it as a belated April Fools prank. Gotcha, that's what you get for worrying us! Ha ha!

Eyes widening with every passing second, she stares in horror at the name for what seems like an hour. As if scrutinizing it long enough might change the shape of the letters or erase them entirely.

Artur Petrov.

Petrov. It glares back at her from the document right above the official hospital seal and doctor's signature; a mocking condemnation.

The roar in her ears is loud enough to disorient and she drops the paper, discarding it with the rest of the box's contents before turning to stand over the sink. She hasn't vomited in years, yet bile rises in her throat all the same as realization upon realization crash over her head.

A desperate gasp staves the mess off just long enough for a softly anguished groan to replace it.

She's fucking Russian.

#( x. self para ) #( x. character development ) #apologies for how lengthy this is #it's been a long time coming :)

[obsidiancreates]

Double Donnie

"So, fellow Donatello. I have a query for you."

"Sure." Donnie drops a bit of the "ooze", as they call mutagen in this dimension, into the chemical compound.

"Why bio-chemistry as your science of choice?" Donald leans hazardously close to Donnie's project. "Because I noticed that it holds you back from making some truly incredible tech otherwise by dividing your time and practice, and I can't figure out why anyone would ever do that to themselves."

"You do chemistry too, I've seen it."

"Yeah, as a side-science. Tech and machinery are clearly superior."

"Mm-hmm, sure. Now, back away, would you? There's a good chance this'll explode."

"I am used to explosions."

"This is a chemical explosion."

"Yes, so there will be the lack of my usual shards of metal, and, running screaming from flying pieces of shrapnel!"

"At least we relate on that experience." Donnie adds one more drop of ooze. The mixture bubbles, turns pink, turns red...

POP!

Donnie groans and thunks his head against the worktable.

"There there." One of the robotic arms of Donald's battle shell pats Donnie on the head. "This is simply what happens when you mess with an inferior branch of science."

Donnie lifts his head to scowl at Donald, one of those strange red representations of a bulging vein overlaying itself on his forehead and giving off a faint heartbeat sound. "You're telling me you're a mutant of combined turtle and human DNA made from a mysterious substance, and you didn't want to figure out how all of that worked?!"

"Never had the strong urge, no! Why would I, when I had robots to build!" Donald throws his arms out, and his various pieces of tech surround him in a blink! He smirks at Donnie.

"And I had DNA to test and compounds to make! Our passions went in opposite directions, that's all there is to it! ... Actually, thinking about it, it's very possible this was the multiverses way of balancing the universes, directing us into situations that fostered different passions in different fields. Not that I don't love robotics, of course, but I find myself in a lot more situations where my bio-chemistry comes in handy."

"And I, my beautiful beautiful tech."

"Fascinating. Even though our interests are nurtured from the time we're too young to know what situations we'd deal with, we both ended up with our interests perfectly suited to what we'd need most when we became heroes. This implies some level of existence of Fate, which, come to think of it, if further supported by the many consistencies across universes-"

"Sorry, the many?"

"There's a version of us that lives in the year 1987. We don't need to talk about them right now. Their Raph sounded a lot like me and I still don't know how I feel about that."

"You have a lot of feelings, so I'm not surprised that they become hard to differentiate from each other."

"Yeah, well, a complex mind breeds complex emotions."

"That is not the case."

"Anyway, if I wasn't passionate about bio-chemistry, I would never have been able to make retromutagen and stop the Kr- uh, the... other guys. If you didn't have your passion for tech, well, same story! Sort of."

"Let's not talk about that ever again actually."

"Sorry."

"Wait, is that what you're doing there? Creating a reversing agent to the oozequitos?"

"I'm hoping to. I just, feel bad for some of the people your Mikey told me about. Plus, it's pretty nice when the people who want to kill you aren't incredibly strong mutants."

"I don't know how much that'll matter here, honestly. Also, this seems dangerous to have around us. I'd rather not suddenly turn back into a regular turtle."

"Relax, it doesn't even work yet. I'm really having trouble adjusting to the laws of this universe. Did you know that your April took me to her high school the other day? No-one batted an eye!"

"Ah yes, your humans are much more likely to scream, and point, and shout about 'Oh no, horrible hideous monsters!'."

"Thank you for the reminder," Donnie grumbles. "That's another reason I pursued bio-chemistry. When I was young I hoped I could possibly find a way to turn my brothers and I human as well."

Donald tenses up, his face twisting into disgusted horror. "You... want to be human?!"

Donnie scoffs. "Um, yeah? Like I said, our dimension is a lot less friendly to us. We can't even go out in the daytime unless there's something bigger going on, like millions of rats swarming."

"... Has that happened to you?"

"More than once."

"Your dimension sounds like the worst place to ever exist. But aside from that, explain why you want to be human other than wanting life-essential sunlight and vitamin D intake."

"Well, to go to school sounds nice. Connecting with other scientists. Meeting people besides my brothers and humans we know because of kidnappings and their attempted vigilante careers. Generally having the same opportunities that a human does?"

"I see, I see. But you're stronger than a human in your dimension, right?"

"Yeah."

"And faster?"

"I suppose..."

"So what's the problem?"

"Wh- what's your problem?! You don't feel like a freak?!"

"Not really, no."

"How- we- we have shells! And our hands only have three fingers! And we're green!"

"I don't understand, now you're just pointing out the obvious. Ooooh, wait, you're listing things that make us different from humans."

"Yes!"

"I don't know if I'm equipped to handle this, actually, because I find your train of thought very hard to follow here. May I direct you to Mikey, or perhaps the cloaking brooch shop?"

"... The what?"

"Cloaking brooch. They're used by Yokai to disguise as humans and live amo-"

"YOU HAVE A WAY TO MAKE ME LOOK HUMAN?!" Donnie bolts out of the room.

Donald blinks after him, and then taps his forearm screen. "Angelo, I think Other Donnie may need one of your Doctor personas to pay him a visit. Yeah, yeah apparently he deeply hates himself for being a mutant. I know, I don't get it either. Anyway I think he's tearing the lair apart trying to find a cloaking brooch. No, I don't know if he's touching your kiiiii- oh, no, he is, he's going through the kitchen cupboards. Try not to kill him."

#tmnt 2k12 #tmnt 2018 #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #tmnt crossover #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

[avatarrecom]

Day 11: Restraints

Pairing: Poly!recoms x Recom!reader (can be read as character x reader)

Word count: 900

A/N: Feat a random Lyle blowjob headcanon. I skipped day 7, blowjob, but it has been stuck in my mind for a while.

Kinktober masterlist

🌍 Recom Miles Quaritch He's into using his gun strap or belt to restrain you during sex. He does it to push your boundaries and takes his sweet time with you. Starting with kisses on your neck, he moves down to your chest, and then all the way to your navel, where he finally reaches your aching pussy. He gets a kick out of giving you those seductive eyes while going down on you, just to see how you respond. It really turns him on when you look desperate and craving for his touch. It gets him off big time.

😈 Recom Lyle Wainfleet He definitely has a restraint kink. He loves tying you down and teasing you endlessly until you’re begging for him. Additionally, he's open to being restrained by you and submitting to your desires, but he prefers being the dominant one.

Also, very random Lyle headcanon: He says he's a pro sniper, but the idea of you giving him a blowjob while he's hiding and aiming for a headshot gets him going feral

🍬 Recom Z-dog She's got some silk restraints, blindfolds, and other fun stuff that she's super excited to try out with her partner, as long as they're up for it too. You know how much she enjoys being in charge. As long as her lovers (that's you) are down and ready, she'll gladly use those restraints to tie you down so she can use the toys to have a good time.

🥽 Recom Walker If she's feeling it, she'd totally tie your arms behind your back and playfully tease you with gentle touches that almost drive you crazy, but not quite enough to make you explode. She'd keep going like that until you're practically begging for her to give you some relief. She'd be that mischievous partner who loves to tease until you're on the edge of frustration, and then she'd smirk and ask, "So, what are you going to do about it?"

😎 Recom Mansk Mansk thoroughly enjoys holding your wrists with his hands during sexual encounters, viewing it as both an intimate gesture and a means of exerting control. With his impressively large hands, he effortlessly grasps both of yours with just one of his, allowing his other hand to either provide support for his body or explore every inch of yours. Loves to see you wriggle in his hold. He restrains you with his hands because: one, it feels more intimate to him, and two, If something is wrong, he can let you go immediately. He cares about you and your wellbeing a lot 

🧯 Recom Prager Here's the deal with Prager. He may seem all innocent and stuff, but trust me, he's a whole different story when it comes to sex. Ever since you brought up the idea of trying out bondage, he's been going absolutely wild with tying you up. I mean, the guy gets a real kick out of hearing you moan and making you climax multiple times while he's at it. And let me tell you, Prager won't quit until he can see that you're practically about to pass out from sheer exhaustion.

⚕️ Recom Ja He's into some light bdsm stuff. Like, maybe tying your hands up above your head while he goes down on you and drives you crazy until you're begging him to stop. Or, he might hold your wrists while he pounds you into oblivion. But honestly, he'd rather have your hands all over him while he makes you cum.

🧢 Recom Brown He has a strong passion for restraints, and if you're open to it, he will be absolutely thrilled to tie you up like a precious gift waiting to be unwrapped. He also loves that you trust him enough to let him do this. Imagine this, the ropes he used to tie you up left marks on your wrists. When one of you other lovers asks what happened and you tell them, he looks like a fucking peacock spreading his feathers and showing off

📿 Recom Lopez When Lopez wants to completely dominate you, he really goes all out to take control of your pleasure. He'd tie you up on his bed, showing his power by not letting you touch him or yourself. He'd stand just out of reach for what feels like forever, checking you out in your sexy lingerie, leaving you feeling helpless. He'd start off slow, teasingly touching every inch of your bare skin, running his fingers along your neck, shoulders, belly, and legs. The amazing sensation would make you wet between your legs, but he'd purposely avoid your most sensitive areas, leaving you craving for more. Instead of his fingers, he'd use his lips to give you soft kisses all over, making you feel like every cell in your body is buzzing and yearning for more.

⛓️ Recom Fike Fike can be into some kinky stuff. He's not always down for it, but every once in a while, he's all about being tied up. He wants you to tease him until he's practically bursting out of those cuffs that are holding his hands to the headboard. It's almost torture not being able to touch you, but for some reason, he's into it. Fike begs to be set free while you're riding him, but you don't give in until you've had your first orgasm. Lying on his chest, his cock still deep inside you and throbbing, you search for the little key under the pillow to finally release him so he can have his turn with you.

#avatar recoms #recom miles quaritch x reader #recom mansk x reader #recom prager x reader #recom lopez x reader #recom brown x reader #recom fike x reader #recom z dog x reader #recom walker x reader #recom ja x reader #recom lyle wainfleet x reader #Kinktober 2023 #Kinktober Avatar_Recom #Avatar recoms smut #Recom miles quaritch smut #recoms lyle wainfleet smut #recom z-dog smut #recoms walker smut #recom ja smut #recom mansk smut #recoms lopez smut #recom prager smut #recom brown smut #recom fike smut

[eriexplosion]

I have nothing to do this weekend so it is Catch Up On Rewatch time. We're up to Decomissioned!

I genuinely love that this episode begins a very long tradition of the batch making basically Zero goddamn money for Cid because they never accomplish the actual goal she sent them there for

I love the Grime of Ord Mantell so much

Like this? It is a fucking look.

"What if it was shiny" WHAT IF IT WAS GROSS AND COVERED IN DIRT AND RUST AND HAD SOME GUY SLEEPING ON IT?

The woman wandering into Cid's looked drunk already but Omega nearly shooting her in the face sobered her up REAL goddamn quick.

Bolo and Ketch are my beloved boys, crime uncles to go with the crime grandma for Omega. I don't know what their crimes actually are but look at them. They're definitely up to crimes.

This is just a sweet moment though, even if Omega is getting frustrated, everyone gathered around to watch her practice. She's not a natural but SHE'S LEARNING.

Cid: I assume you boys know what a tactical droid is?

Tech:

This is unsurprisingly one of my favorite moments he literally looks like he's going to explode when no one speaks up. IS NO ONE ELSE GOING TO TAKE THIS INCREDIBLY EASY QUESTION?

"You make money, I make money, and I watch your back." You fool. You will never get any money from these people.

CID WITH THE BOW IS HOT OKAY, I AM AN EASY MARK.

You know I'm surprised this facility doesn't sell the tactical droid modules themselves, like I'm sure it's imperial funded to get rid of all the separatist droids but come on, no one in the factory other than the Martez sisters is stealing these things?

BEING THE LOOKOUT WAS CROSSHAIR'S JOB. I'm sure Hunter loves getting that reminder of his Failure to keep his family together.

THE GIRLS ARE HERE <3

DON'T JUST STAND THERE. GRAB A WEAPON. "I had one >:T"

Omega was literally about to shoot Rafa at point blank range though like imagine her first kill was from about 2 feet away

SHOULD I HAVE LET THE DROID SHOOT YOU? Hunter has zero patience right now he is So Grouchy the instant Rafa opens her mouth

No worries just jump over the flaming pit of death Wrecker. Nothing bad can happen when you jump over the flaming pit of death.

LITERALLY STOLE THE DROID HEAD AND LEFT THE CHILD TRAPPED ON THE CONVEYOR BELT TO HELL.

God this moment with Wrecker's chip partially activating is so good.

Trace literally stops and realizes the child is going to be dumped into the slag and does NOTHING ABOUT IT FOR SO DAMN LONG. SHE COMES THROUGH IN THE END BUT GOD HOW LONG YOU GONNA STAND THERE?

I love them, they're disasters.

"Fine but I still don't like you." "I'M USED TO IT." This is very much like Hunter with Phee in season 2 he just gets so fucking cranky.

WRECKER HEARING "GOOD SOLDIERS FOLLOW ORDERS" IN CROSSHAIR'S VOICE IS SO FUCKING MUCH. Love this set up for next episode by which I mean I am horrified by it.

I'm easy, I find it hilarious when Echo makes a dad joke about their name.

THIS WILL HELP ME ACCESS THE PROGRAM. *TECH LITERALLY STABS THE DROID WITH SOME FORM OF SPIKE*

Honestly seeing Rafa again makes me remember those fake leaks when everyone was freaking the absolute fuck out over the idea that Rex/Rafa was going to be a thing in season 2 and honestly I still love the idea. I think that Rex falling for a garbage girl with thieving little raccoon hands is the funniest thing I've ever heard. He found a girlfriend in the dumpster.

Our first real push towards 'you can't just endlessly run away while doing it all for the money' from Trace. Again I am stuck on this, that you can't push for two seasons for the batch to actually stand up to the Empire and fight, to actually push back, and then have it turn out they should have just kept never getting involved anyway if they wanted to live. I'm chewing on the walls and the beams.

"in the end, we all choose sides" anyway this is why I think the very end of the show will be the batch together and actively choosing to go against the Empire, not because they're soldiers but because they're a family and they're fighting for each other. But unfortunately I don't think it will be as simple as retirement even if it's what they deserve, because of bits like this. At the very least, they're active in helping Rex get the other clones somewhere safe, even if they're not diving in to fight directly.

The way they hide who Rex is to make it look like the girls immediately turned on them doijsofd

SOON WE'RE GONNA HAVE REX THOUGH. THE BOY.

#the bad batch rewatch

[talesfromsiteredacted]

Random Things Dr. Cimmerian Said Asleep

Dr. Cimmerian is, first, typically a ray of sunshine. Second, he has a bad habit of dozing off while reviewing reports. And drooling on a few here and there. He does say some weird shit while asleep, I blame the copious amounts of coffee everybody consumes. Once more, without context!

"Peaches? With long pork? Pushing the boundaries of fine cannibal dining I see, Ferdinand. I'd suggest some shiraz or a nice zinfandel."

"Yoshi! Put down that D-Class right this instant! He's a very boring serial killer. The nice Chaos Insurgency guy next to him would taste better, not that we condone a humanitarian diet here."

"Dyo, honestly... the crinoline is outdated with good reason, namely it's too damned impractical. Stick to corsetry."

"Eighty kilos of gunpowder, twenty kilos of iron nails, a further twenty kilos of roofing tar? In her skirts? I've heard people say 'If I'm going to die, you're coming with me!' before, but... that's hard-core. No wonder they stopped burning witches after that. Woman was a massive legend, but not a witch. A REAL witch wouldn't need all that to make burning her a bad idea."

"Clef... your ex... Woman has an entire magazine warehouse of issues. And you put your junk in the crazy. Never. Sleep. With. The. Crazy."

"Dad? Why is the beer growing mushrooms?"

"AAAAAHHH! WHO THE UNHOLY HELLS GAVE 096 A FUCKING CLOWN SUIT!"

"Put down the cake knife and walk away, Dr. Bright. You knew when you asked Mabel for German chocolate what you're in for. Besides, you could just hit her with her own terrible cake. Not that O5 would condone that, of course."

"Uh... Ben? Is it me, or are the daisies staring us down?"

"We actually nailed jello to a tree once. Clef bet Kondraki $200 he could figure out how it's done. Benny almost ate his sword over that one. Turns out you can do it, provided you simply nail the unopened box to the tree."

"Cain, can you locate in the notes where anyone asked Dr. Matthieu for his opinion?" A pause. "Nowhere? Huh. As I thought. Thank you."

"Whomever said you couldn't herd cats never was at my Aunt Martha's house. All she had to do to herd cats was just touch the food bag, and every cat in her house came running."

"WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO FEED THAT POOR IDIOT TO 682? He's going to get an upset stomach."

"Uh... Agent Dimitriov? I think you might have forgotten part of your uniform. Aren't your knees cold?"

"Are you sure we can't just yeet him out of the airlock when no one's looking? Yes, I know the spaceship is on Earth still, but it's far enough off the ground for terminal velocity to become a factor. Just push him out of the vent."

"You hit the Scarlet King in the junk, with a hammer? And survived? Okay, Abel... I take it back. You're not just a Semetic badass, you're THE Semetic Badass."

"How? How in the hells did you manage to shoot yourself in the back with no one else around you in a sealed room? The fuck you mean, 'The Invisible Man has a gun?' Admit it, you had someone shoot you to get out of Peanut-sitting again, didn't you?"

"Coffee. Extra large, heavy on the cream and sugar. No, larger than that. Larger." A pause. "What do you mean, you don't sell by the gallon?"

"Dr. Gears. This is the SCP Foundation. Sarcasm and pessimism are practically survival mechanisms here. Give the kid a pass."

"NOOOO! COME ON, WHAT THE BLUE FUCK DID OREGON DO TO DESERVE LENNY? YOU UTTER BASTARDS!" In the middle of a meeting with the Ethics Committee, eyebrows were raised, and coffee spilled.

"Run."

"I, too, would rather be under the sea, in an octopuses garden in the shade. You thinking what I'm thinking, my dive brother? Right. Let's leave these landlubbers and go hang with the fishes."

"Funny, 035. First, we can't KEEP you dressed, now you're out here looking like a weird ass male version of Rogue from the X-Men. Malicious compliance is acceptable, I suppose."

"You keep making poultry explode, Alto. Perhaps your charming assistant should give you cooking lessons?"

"WHY IS EVERYTHING ON FIRE?!? AGAIN?"

"Screw the files! Don't let 999 burn! That little blob of joy is my only reason to live."

"That's it. Get me a team of ten really strong D-Class, a case of 100 mph tape, a tranquilizer gun fully loaded, the electric purple snow leopard furry suit in lost and found, and a camera. Let this be the last time anyone sees Bright butt in public."

"I'm not above blackmail and we both know it. Gimme. The. Pie."

"Simon? I think this might be above my skill level. Can you please get Dr. King to calm down?"

"I can't believe Agatha talked him into a mankini. Didn't need photo evidence though."

"WHO THE HELLS TAUGHT THE KETCHUP PUPPIES TO 'FETCH THE LEG'? Max? That's... honestly impressive. Pity about that guy from MC&D, though. He did have it coming, to be honest."

"You ran... the Bible... through the Clockworks? On "Very Fine". And, got basically over a thousand pages of 'Try not to be an asshole, mmmmkay?'. Experiment inconclusive. Run the 'Communist Manesfesto' through next, my accountant is curious."

"Why are you here? Basically, 343 likes a joke as much as the next person. Oh. You meant why are you in the Femur Breaker? Well, we gotta get 106 back in containment somehow. That's where you come in. For what it's worth, I'm sorry about this, you seem like a lovely fellow."

"They're just firing arrows at us. You have an SMG, shoot them back. Some MTF agent you are."

"He's dating THAT? I've seen less silicone in a RealDoll. And, better fashion sense, for that matter."

"Wait... hold the phone, Abel. You're older than Jesus, but never had a cannoli? Rabbit, my girl, this will not stand. Cannoli the man!" A brief pause. "I KNOW, RIGHT? Whomever invented the cannoli deserves a sainthood."

"Primitive and outdated concept on a crutch!" Preceded by a thump.

"New Bright List entry: 'Dr. Bright is no longer allowed to access the Cursed Clown Nose of Improbability under any circumstances. No, not even to prevent an XK Class Scenario.' Noted. This item #857, or 858? I lost track."

"WHAT kind of butter? Oh. I thought you said something altogether more horrifying."

"JULIAN, YOU ABSOLUTE WALNUT! You forgot Quinn's birthday. Of COURSE you're in trouble for it. I got you covered though. They're still into lemons and tea, right? You're golden. Lemon blossom tea set, courtesy of the fine folks of Etsy. Pay me back on Friday."

#scp foundation #tales from site redacted #dr cimmerian #poor guy has the wonkiest sleep schedule

[michael-aftonz]

guess who got back into writing omg... i finally finished this but bear with me, this was the first thing i've written that wasn't academic in literal years but Phew boy. this all stemmed from one single idea and my brain kinda exploded.

DISCLAIMERS:

* vanessa is NOT an afton in this fic. if you believe/hc that she is, this is not the fic for you.

* i DO NOT ship michael and vanessa, anything that happens between them in this fic is platonic + helps to further the plot.

* i am a GAY MALE and can reclaim the f slur.

* this fic contains homophobia and several mentions of the F slur, if this makes you uncomfortable, please skip over this fic or read at your own risk.

* there are descriptions of parental abuse and manipulation. there are also descriptions of anxiety attacks. if these topics make you uncomfortable, please do not read or read at your own risk!

* this is supposed to be set in the early 1980s so i tried to fill it with pop culture from that time, if it seems inaccurate please let me know and i'll find an alternative!

word count: 10,333 words 😦

name: i honestly hadn't thought of one Whoops. if you have any ideas let me know!

characters: michael afton, jeremy fitzgerald, vanessa shelly, william afton and mrs. fitzgerald.

ships: michael afton x jeremy fitzgerald

The three childhood friends were hanging out as usual, playing a very intense game of “truth or dare.” However, things were not turning out the way Michael had hoped. It was his turn once again and his friend Vanessa had an evil grin that spread from ear to ear.

“Okay, Mikey,” she started, practically erupting with excitement, “truth or dare.”

Now, Michael was never one to turn down a dare. However, he felt that this would only end badly. But then again, when was he known to listen to his instincts?

“Dare.”

Vanessa pretended to think for a moment before spouting out, “I've got it! You have to kiss everyone in this room.”

“Seriously, Van?” Michael rolled his eyes, but noticing that Vanessa was, indeed, serious he let out an exasperated groan. “Ugh, fine. But I better not find a polaroid of this on your wall later.”

Easy enough: all he had to do was kiss both Jeremy and Vanessa. No big deal. Besides, it wouldn't mean anything, right?

Michael scooted towards Vanessa first, who made quite a dramatic show of poking her lips out and pointing at them with her index finger. He leaned in and it was over without much further thought.

Now, he turned to his best friend - Jeremy Fitzgerald - and gave a little awkward smile.

“If this is too weird, Mike, I can have her give you another dare. I'm pretty sure she just wanted you to kiss her, anyway,” Jeremy spoke. He was always so considerate.

“It's only weird if you make it weird, man. Besides, a dare’s a dare.”

Michael took a deep breath and pressed a kiss onto Jeremy’s lips. However, this one was different than the previous one. While he felt nothing with Vanessa, his entire body felt like it had gotten set on fire. His heart rate quickened and suddenly the walls felt like they were close in around him. He couldn't breathe.

The only thing that jolted him back to reality was a familiar British voice going “Michael? Your siblings and I are back from the workshop.”

Michael quickly came back to his senses and backed away from Jeremy. He wiped his lips and made a show of being remotely disgusted.

“Ew, Jer, what did you eat? I swear, your breath smelled like salt and vinegar chips.” Michael teased, trying his hardest to make sure no one else noticed his racing heart. What he couldn't figure out, though, is why he had such a different reaction to Jeremy’s kiss than Vanessa's. Maybe, he thought, it's because it wasn't right. Yeah, I'm supposed to kiss girls - not boys. That's the only reasonable explanation; my brain is trying to rationalize why I'd kiss Jeremy of all people.

The night continued semi-peacefully, no other heart racing dares occurred - which Michael appreciated.

The day ended and Michael’s friends went home, leaving him to his thoughts. No matter how hard he tried, he kept thinking about the events from earlier in the day - more specifically, the kiss between Jeremy and himself. He grabbed his walkman, rewound the tape, and put the headphones over his ears. If he couldn't hear how loud his heart was beating, he could ignore the noise inside his head too. All he needed was to melt into the music. And to never confront this problem. Ever.

Michael drifted off into a fitful sleep - tossing and turning every second. His mind kept returning to his best friend’s kiss; the warmth he felt throughout his entire body, the loud beating of his heart, and the short moment where he could swear he felt Jeremy kiss back. It was all too much for him to handle right now. He needed to talk to someone. Normally, he'd call Jeremy and invite him over, but these circumstances were very different.

He sighed and walked to the landline before imputing the all too familiar number.

She picked up right away, which wasn't surprising.

“Mikey? Is something wrong?” Vanessa's voice sounded through the speaker, full of concern. Michael never called her this late.

“Hey, Ness.. I- uh.. Can you meet me at the park?” Michael whispered, trying his best not to worry his friend any more than he already had.

“Sure thing. But, Mikey, you need to tell me if something is wrong.”

“Yeah, yeah. I'll tell you when we get there, okay? It's��� hard to explain.”

He didn't even wait on her reply before he hung up the phone and ran to grab his windbreaker. Carefully, he slid open the window and climbed through - making sure not to make any noise. Once he made it through, he silently closed the window all but a crack. He'd need to get back in somehow.

He noticed Vanessa's brightly colored sweater and walked over.

“Thanks for coming. I really needed someone to talk to.” He smiled slightly and pulled her into a hug.

“Of course. You can always talk to me, Mike.” Vanessa smiled back and motioned for the two of them to sit on the bench.

The two sat down and Michael exhaled.

“Vanessa, have you ever… Ugh. I don't know how to word this.” Michael started, slowly hiding his face in his hands.

Vanessa placed a reassuring hand on Michael’s shoulders and made a “go on” gesture.

“When you kiss someone, right, you're supposed to… I don't know. Feel something?” Michael continued - growing increasingly more frustrated.

“Typically, yes. If you like that person.” Vanessa replied, a curious look on her face. Could this be what she had hoped?

Michael took another deep breath.

“Vanessa, this might be a weird request.. But.. I need to know if I'm going crazy or not. I.. I need you to kiss me again.”

Vanessa looked at him like he'd just grown two heads.

“You're right, Mike. That is weird. You're being really weird right now.”

“Ness, I know it's strange. I need to test something. Please just do this one thing for me and I won't ask anything weird of you ever again.” Michael pleaded, looking towards his friend.

Vanessa thought for a moment before nodding. She leaned in and placed a small kiss on his lips. Michael waited patiently for something to happen and… Shit Nothing. No electricity, no loud heart beating. Michael pulled away and shrugged.

“Vanessa… You said you were supposed to feel something if you kissed someone you liked, right?” Michael spoke, pursing his lips together and debating if he should actually tell her what was on his mind.

“Mike, you're a great friend… But I don't see you that way,” Vanessa replied, placing a small hand on Michael’s shoulder in a sort of “let him down easy” gesture.

Michael couldn't help but laugh at this. “Vanessa.. I wasn't talking about our kiss. I.. uh.”

Vanessa looked incredibly confused and if she raised her eyebrow any more it might possibly leave her head.

“When.. when we played truth or dare.. Um.. and you told me to kiss everyone in the room.. Well. uh..” Michael stammered, trying to piece his thoughts together, “something.. Happened when I kissed Jeremy. It felt ‘different’ when we kissed than when I kissed him. It felt.. like lightning was coursing through my body. My heart felt like it was going to explode. It was so loud. And then with you.. There was nothing. I really just felt like you needed some chapstick..” He rambled on, looking down and fidgeting with the zipper on his windbreaker.

Vanessa looked oddly relieved that Mike wasn't confessing his feelings for her.

“Mikey, it sounds to me that you might have yourself a little crush on our friend Jerry.” She smiled and patted her friend on the back.

“That's the problem.. I'm not supposed to,” Michael sighed, placing his head into his hands once again, “do you have any idea how my Dad would react if he found out that I…” He shook his head and trailed off.

Vanessa’s smile slightly dropped, “Well.. Don't tell him. Don't tell your Dad. Have you even thought about telling Jeremy?”

“No! I can't tell Jeremy. What if he laughs at me? What if he never wants to see me again? Vanessa, he's my best friend. I can't have him thinking of me like that…” Michael began to sniffle and he hid his head even further.

His friend moved to pat his back but Michael quickly shot off the bench. All his tears began to turn into anger.

“I already get so much shit for my dorky little sister and my wimpy little brother. Do you know how much more I’d get for being a fucking faggot?” He huffed and began to storm back toward his house.

“Mike, wait!”

“You have it so easy, Vanessa! You don't understand.” And before Vanessa could even utter the first syllable of her next word, Michael had already left the park and trudged back towards his house.

He crept back inside the window and marched toward his room - still making sure to be quiet. However, when he was in to his room, he shut his door and angrily threw this windbreaker towards his bed.

Michael sniffled once again, reaching for his walkman and quickly placing the headphones on his ears. As his tape began to play, Michael tucked his head between his knees and tears began streaming down his cheeks.

He had never quite mastered the act of silent crying, but he wasn't as dramatic as his younger brother, either. Michael hated how weak he felt when crying, he also hated how imaginary words from William could ruin his evening.

Michael, himself, didn't even understand why he felt this way about Jeremy. He only knew two things: one, for some reason, he desperately wanted to kiss Jeremy again and two, his father would most likely kill him if he found out. Oh, and three, he hated himself for feeling like this - especially about his friend.

After a few more minutes of quietly sobbing against his bedroom door, Michael had finally stopped crying. He sniffled once again and wiped off his face.

Michael looked up at the flashing alarm clock on his nightstand. 6:00 am. He realized he hadn't slept much the night before - and the guilt of snapping at Vanessa was weighing on him. I should apologize, Michael thought to himself, she was only trying to help, after all.

He took off his headphones and neatly placed his walkman back on the nightstand. He walked outside his bedroom door and noted a small plush fox sitting there with a note that read: Heard you crying. I left my friend because they make me feel better.

Upon reading the note, Michael’s anger slightly returned from the night before. The Crybaby is making fun of me? He picked up the plush toy and ripped apart the seems before throwing it down the hallway.

He scoffed and walked out the door, intent on seeing Vanessa first and apologizing. While on his way towards his friends house, he noticed Jeremy heading the same way. Had Vanessa invited Jeremy here? Did Vanessa tell him what happened between herself and Michael last night? He really hoped not. Yes, Michael had snapped at Vanessa, but he told her everything in confidence.

He tried his best to avoid Jeremy, but something about hm seemed different. Michael couldn't stop noticing little details about him: The way his hair swayed when he walked, the clink of all the patches on his bag, the ever present smile on his face. All of these things were just distracting Michael. He came to apologize to Vanessa, not stare at his best friend.

Michael shook himself out of his stupor and he gave a small wave to Jeremy before going to Vanessa’s door and knocking.

As soon as the door opened, Michael was already rambling.

“Ness, I'm so sorry about last night. I didn't mean to snap at you.. I was just… you know. Overwhelmed.” He pushed himself inside the doorframe and wrapped his friend into a hug.

Vanessa simply nodded and hugged Michael back, “Mikey, I knew you'd be here to apologize so… I invited Jeremy, too. I think you two need to talk.”

A look of shock crosses over Michael's face, but before he could say anything, Jeremy walked in to the room.

“Van? You said you wanted to see me?” Jeremy asked, his voice causing the hair on the back of Michael's neck to stand up.

“Actually, Jerry, Mike has something he needs to talk to you about.” Vanessa responded, smiling from ear to ear. “I'll just be in the other room. You two can talk.”

Michael gave her a subtle “I am going to murder you later” look as Vanessa left the room. Soon, it was just him and Jeremy standing in the walkway of Vanessa's home.

Jeremy gave his typical reassuring smile, which caused Michael's heart to do jumping jacks.

“What's up? Is.. is your dad being weird again?” Jeremy asked, genuine concern filling his voice, and he moved to place a caring hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“That's.. that's the thing, Jer. You’re always so thoughtful and.. you care so much about Vanessa and I. It's really sweet,” Michael started, his nerves being to bubble in his stomach.

“Okay…? I don't really understand what this has to do with anything.. Am I too nice?” Jeremy looked utterly confused (and concerned). He honestly had no idea where this was going but he wanted to be supportive of his friend.

Michael smiled at Jeremy’s response, shaking his head lightly. “No, you're not too nice. You're.. the right amount of nice. I always appreciate everything you do for me. However, I didn't realize that until recently.” He was silent for a moment, weighing how to proceed next. “Jeremy, can I ask you a serious question?”

“Of course, Mike, You can ask me whatever you want. I'll try my best to answer.” Jeremy nodded and sent another reassuring smile at Michael.

Michael took a deep breath and nodded. I'm going to do this. I'm actually going to do this. “Did you… feel.. uh.. feel anything when,” his cheeks flushed a light pink and he began speaking again, much quieter this time, “when we kissed…?”

“I'm sorry? I didn't hear that last part, Mike. Can you repeat that?” Jeremy furrowed his brows, turning his head to his right side – as he is partially deaf in his left ear and hears better on his right side.

Michael closed his eyes and began repeating what he just said, “Did you feel anything… when we kissed?”

Jeremy’s eyes widened slightly and he raised an eyebrow, “Well.. nothing I don't usually feel when I'm around you. What, exactly, do you mean by that?”

Michael was slightly disappointed and then he realized Jeremy asked for clarification. “I mean like.. I don't know. When- when we kissed.. It felt like my body was on fire. My heartbeat was so fast and.. to be honest, I.. I can't stop thinking about it. I'm sorry if this was weir-” He was quickly interrupted by the soft press of Jeremy’s lips against his own. Michael's eyes widened but, once he got his bearings, he leaned into the other.

Jeremy pulled away after a few seconds - but not being the all too familiar shutter-click of Vanessa's polaroid camera went off - and smiled brightly up at Michael.

“I hope that answers your question, Mike.” Jeremy laughed, his own cheeks. “I was really wondering when you'd notice. I.. uh.. I've liked you for a very long time.”

Michael's eyes were still wide and he couldn't quite believe what had just happened. His cheeks were now a bright red. However, he soon snapped out of his daze and realized he heard the camera click.

“Vanessa, PLEASE tell me you didn't take a picture of that!” Michael moved away from Jeremy and pratically sprinted towards the other room.

“Mike, wait!” Jeremy called out as he followed after his two friends.

Vanessa was busy trying to hide and dodge underneath several pieces of furniture while Michael chased her.

“Ness, please give me that picture. You don't know what will happen if my Dad find that. And you know how often he visits your dad. They literally work together.” Michael pleaded, crouching down to try and yank Vanessa out from underneath her bed.

“Fine, fine. Only because you're my friend, Michael. But you owe me film!” Vanessa caved, crawling out from underneath the bed and reluctantly handing over the polaroid.

Michael made a small movement of triumph, however, he quickly turned embarrassed when he took a closer look at the picture (which had almost fully developed by now). Apparently, Michael had placed his hand on the base of Jeremy's neck without noticing and the photo made it look as if he was pulling him in closer.

“So..,” Vanessa started as she took her two friends by their wrists and plopped them down on her bed, “did you two decide what you're going to call.. this?” She motioned to the two of them and raised her eyebrow. “I mean, if you decide to call it anything, that is.”

The boys shrugged and looked at each other. They were both silent for a moment and Jeremy finally spoke. “I know that your dad is.. kinda weird about this type of stuff, but my parents are cool with it. And.. if you're comfortable with it, I'd like to call myself your boyfriend, Mike. At.. at least to my parents.”

Michael remained silent for a moment, thinking over the options. After a few seconds, he nodded and placed his hand inside of Jeremy’s.

“I'd really like that, Jer. I'm just sorry that I can't tell my family. I mean, if my Mom was still here, she'd be supportive.” Michael replied as a small smile spread across his lips. Jeremy nodded and simply pulled him into a side hug. However, the cute moment was soon interrupted by Vanessa throwing herself in between the two and snapping another picture before they could protest.

“At least let me keep this one! It's just the three of us, so it's not incriminating!” Vanessa asked, already moving to make a sprint if she needed.

“Fine, fine. I have no objections there.”

The rest of the evening continued in much of the normal fashion: the three of them playing various games and making fun of each other. However, Michael caught himself glancing over at Jeremy more frequently. Soon, Michael knew it was time to head home.

“Hey, Mike, do you mind if I tag along on your walk home? I live a few minutes away from your place.” Jeremy asked, jogging up beside Michael after he walked out of Vanessa’s house.

Michael nodded with a smile. He'd secretly been hoping that Jeremy would suggest this. He loves Vanessa and all, but he wanted a few moments of just himself and Jeremy.

The lanky boy walked next to Michael and reached for his hand. Michael hesitated for a moment, looking around the neighborhood for any sign of his father, before taking Jeremy’s hand.

They continued on their walk until they were at Michael's doorstep. He said his goodbyes and - even though it hurt his heart - waved instead of sending Jeremy off with something more affectionate.

He fumbled with the door knob, the door then swung open and the creaky hinges alerted anyone within a 1,200 mile radius. Michael physically recoiled at the sound and entered the house - hoping for less noise.

He had made it less than a foot from the door before the trouble began. He noticed it instantly: the disappointed look in his father’s eyes. What did I do now? Michael thought, bracing himself for the worst possible outcome.

“Michael,” the agitating voice stated.

Well. Better get this over with.

“Father,” Michael replied, trying not to make the grit in his teeth obvious with his speech. He hated called William anything formal, especially since he was the only one of his siblings who had to.

“Do you have ANY idea of the distress you caused?”

“No, sir.”

“You know exactly what you did. Your poor brother came into my workshop crying. Do you know why that was?”

“Isn't the little shit always crying?”

“Don't get smart with me, boy. And, you will not use that kind of language when speaking to me, or this will get a whole lot worse for you. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Michael grits his teeth even harder.

“Now, your brother comes to me, and in his hands are the pieces of a prototype product for my new animatronic line. The fox plush.”

Shit.

“Michael, I will ask you one time. What did you do to the product?”

“I didn't know it was important, Father. He was making fun of me and I thought - Hey, he has enough toys. He won't miss this one. I destroyed it... to teach him a lesson.”

“Destroyed it to teach him a lesson? Fascinating. And how would you feel if something like that happened to your precious walkman? Or.. those.. cassette tapes with those grotesque songs you seem to enjoy? Hmm?”

Michael's face fell and he reared back in horror.

“You wouldn't.”

“Oh, believe me, Michael. I would. As a matter of fact, go pick out your favorites and bring them to me. Along with the scissors.”

This completely ruined his good mood from today, but he knew that there was no getting out of this. Michael begrudgingly went into his bedroom, crouched down, and riffled through his box of cassette tapes. Of course, he was smart enough not to choose his actual favorites. He chose some he wouldn't mind losing (probably those he was recommended and didn't like as well as the others) and stashed his favorites inside of his sock drawer - along with the polaroid of himself and Jeremy.

Michael hesitated before handing several tapes and a pair of sharp scissors to his father. He cringed as his father opened the latch that concealed the tape and began unwinding - cutting each segment until all that was left was a pile of tape shreddings and several plastic cases.

“I hope you've learned your lesson, Michael. If this happens again, I will fish around for every single tape you've hidden. Now, clean this up.”

Michael gulped in surprise; how did his father know he had hidden several tapes? His mouth remained agape as he bent down and began cleaning up the remains of his music taste.

The staleness of the room only dimmed his mood: the too dark carpet with mysterious stains, the uneven curtains with several moth-eaten holes, the overall greyness of the place. It wasn't a mystery why William had destroyed his tapes, the man clearly had a love of all things boring and soulless.

Once he had finished, Michael knew he couldn't stay here. He entered his bedroom, making sure to lock the door the from inside. He looked around for a bit before grabbing a draw-string bag from his closet and began stuffing clothes inside of it. All packed, Michael once again cracked open his window and crept outside - leaving it open enough for him to enter once he got back. If he came back, of course.

He really only had one place to go - and the fact that there was only one person he wanted to see.

The gloomy atmosphere from his apartment seemed to drift out into the streets: the skies were much darker than before and there was a certain musk that meant it was going to rain soon. Because of Michael's quick packing, he was ill-prepared for the rain.

Better walk fast, I guess. I've still got three blocks to go. Michael thought to himself, tugging on the strings on his bag to ensure it was secured. However, the rain came much faster than he could walk and soon he was drenched - with still a block and a half to go. There looked to be no end in sight for the sudden monsune of rain. Just my luck. Just my fucking luck.

He began sprinting, his brightly colored sneakers squeaking against the pavement and his body getting continuously soaked. By the time he arrived at Jeremy’s, he looked like a kitten someone had just given a bath - completely soaked and fuming. He hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door.

Who answered, however, was not who he expected. A polite, older woman (who he knew as Mrs. Fitzgerald) answered the door with a look of utter concern.

“Michael, honey! You're soaking wet.” Her smooth voice radiated with motherly concern and the slight southern twang made everything feel more homey.

“I apologize for showing up uninvited, Mrs. Fitzgerald.” Michael replied sheepishly, “I.. I can leave if it's too much of a bother.”

“Nonsense! You get in here and dry off. I'll let Jeremy know you're here. It's a wonder you didn't get swept away in this terrible storm,” Mrs. Fitzgerald replied, opening the door wide enough to let Michael in before closing it to prevent any more cool air from seeping in.

Michael thanked the woman once again and politely wiped his feet on the mat. Mrs. Fitzgerald turned around and looked at his clothes once more.

“Oh dear.. You're completely soaked through. Don't worry, I'm sure either Jeremy or my husband have something you can borrow. I'll get those washed and dried for you soon, sweetheart. You stay right here. I'll go find you something nice.”

Michael nodded, having really no other option than to wait for Mrs. Fitzgerald to come back. Soon the woman returned with a large pile of clothing - from t-shirts with interesting tie-dye patterns to large, oversized sweaters that Michael was pretty sure he could use as a blanket if he needed to. He was soon completely dried and dressed from head to toe in the warmest clothes Jeremy’s mother could stuff him in. He quickly handed his sopping wet clothing to Mrs. Fitzgerald and gave her another round of thanks.

As he did this, Jeremy practically ran down the stairs.

“Mike? Is something wrong?” The blonde asked, concern filling his voice. He moved closer and began checking Michael’s hands and arms for any sign of injuries.

“I'm fine, Jer, seriously.” Michael gave him a reassuring smile and placed a caring hand onto his shoulder, “can we just go talk in your room? I.. I couldn't stay at home tonight.”

Jeremy nodded and motioned for Michael to follow him up the stairs. Once upstairs, Michael was simply blown away. This room was basically identical to the person who lived in it: colorful, full of life, and it had a sort of “I'm at home” feeling. Jeremy’s room at everything - from too many blankets to count to the newest NES system. Michael had only been in here once before, as the three of them usually went to his house or Vanessa's, but it still amazed him how much it replicated Jeremy’s personality.

Jeremy sat on the edge of his bed and motioned for Michael to join him, to which he quickly obliged. The two talked for a while - mostly just Michael avoiding the topic he originally intended to talk about - and eventually Michael grew restless of sitting and laid himself across Jeremy’s lap. Jeremy smiled down at him and absentmindedly began twirling a strand of Michael's long hair around his finger.

“Mike, can you please tell me what happened? I know when you're avoiding talking about something.” Jeremy scolded, a small pout forming on his lips. He had been Michael’s best friend for year, of course he was going to pick up on the little things - especially when Michael wasn't being entirely truthful.

“Fine, fine. I did something stupid, okay? That brat of a brother I have heard something he shouldn't have and I decided he needed a little payback,” Michael started, slightly embarrassed that he'd have to tell this to Jeremy - of all people - because Jeremy was part of the reason he did this, “anyway, so.. I took one of his plush toys that he left in my doorway and I.. ripped it up.”

Jeremy raised his eyebrow, as if to question why this meant he was not able to stay home, but he didn't interrupt Michael.

“Well, it turns out that it didn't actually belong to the little shit. It was something Father was working on. A prototype, I don't know,” Michael made a shrugging gesture and continued with his explanation, “Either way, let's just say he wasn't too thrilled about the damage done to it. And uh.. several of my tapes got the axe. I managed to hide the best ones, but I doubt they'll last for long.”

“That's.. awful. Mike, I'm so sorry.” Jeremy’s frown deepened and he brushed a small strand of Michael’s hair away from his face.

“Nah, I probably had it coming. He just.. he makes me so angry sometimes, Jeremy. I fight so hard for his attention and yet some snot nosed crybaby gets it for free? How is that fair?” Michael's face morphed into a frown and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Aw, Mike. I'm sure he doesn't mean to ignore you. Look, you're wonderful. If he doesn't see that, than it's his problem.” Jeremy leaned over, making his face a few inches away from Michael's, and placing a hand on his chin.

Seeing that Michael’s frown still remained, Jeremy pressed a small kiss against his lips. And another. And another. Until Michael finally smiled and playfully pushed him off.

“Jer, you're going to suffocate me,” Michael teased, laughing as he kept his hand up to prevent any further kiss attacks.

“Well, it's not my fault! I couldn't just let you be sad.”

Michael rolled his eyes and gave Jeremy one more playful shove, “Jeremy Fitzgerald, you are insufferable.” However, Michael was glad for the distraction. He moved from his position on Jeremy's lap and laid down across the end of the blonde’s bed - spreading out like a starfish. Tonight was just perfect; absolutely nothing could ruin Michael's night.

Or so he thought.

–

Back at Michael’s house, everything was not as peaceful as the Fitzgeralds’. William was knocking on Michael's door - but he received no response, obviously.

“Michael? I told you not to lock your door.”

Silence.

“Michael?”

More silence.

William tried the handle one more time, getting increasingly more angry when it continued not to open.

William walked outside, retracing what little footsteps hadn't been washed away in the rainstorm. However, Michael's “sneaky escape” hadn't been as sneaky as he had hoped. William instantly noticed the trampled flowers which Michael had climbed down onto. This caused him to look up and notice the window slightly ajar.

Michael, Michael, Michael.. Oh, I wish I raised you better. William thought to himself, shaking his head with a loud “tsk-tsk.” He quickly hoisted himself onto the ledge and opened the window - making sure to close it at just the right height to make it seem unnoticeable in case Michael returned sooner than he expected.

You've brought this on yourself, Michael. William tsk’d once again before he began rummaging through Michael’s drawers - taking any tape he could find. When he got to the last drawer, however, he noticed something that wasn't.. quite a tape. It was flipped upside down, but it was evident that it was a polaroid of some kind.

William pondered for a moment before picking it up and flipping it over to check the contents. He reared back in horror upon seeing what it was: a picture of his son and some blonde boy together.

William was seething as he crumpled the photo in his palm and he began searching faster for the remaining tapes. Once he had them, William placed all the tapes into a bag and - after unlocking the door - took them outside and grabbed one of his favorite instruments: the hammer.

Smash!

Crunch!

Crack!

William hefted the hammer over his shoulder again and again until there was nothing left but shards of plastic and several unwound tapes. His breathing grew ragged as his anger continued to overtake him. Eventually, he placed the hammer down and stood up - dusting off his pants and walking back inside.

Now, he needed to wait for Michael to return. And where else than his son’s bedroom.

–

Michael had closed his eyes and was listening to the sounds of Jeremy’s room, which were all incredibly calming. He could hear the faint rain against Jeremy's window, the sound of his own breathing, the emptiness in his mind. Everything was quiet, just as it should be. He heard the creak of the steps and the following soft click of the door opening. Jeremy had stepped out a while ago to find them some snacks, and apparently, he had succeeded. The sound of rustling chip bags (and Jeremy struggling to get inside the door) shook Michael out of his stupor and he quickly went to help, opening the door wide enough for Jeremy and his armful of prizes to enter.

“My knight in shining armor,” Jeremy joked, sending a bright smile towards Michael. “I was wondering when you'd open the door.”

“Oh, really? Did I not move fast enough for you, your highness?” Michael teased back and sent and eyeroll towards the blonde. “Here, let me help you.” He grabbed a few of the spoils from Jeremy’s arms and arranged them in a makeshift pile - it wasn't neat, but it was the best he could do without putting them on the floor.

Jeremy thanked him before placing the remaining spoils into the pile - they had enough snacks to last for weeks. Michael sat down and scooped out a handful of chips, popping one into his mouth and occasionally trying to catch them. Jeremy plopped himself down next to Michael and leaned his head against his shoulder. This caused Michael to widen his eyes in surprise. He really didn't know what to do in this situation. He hadn't been in a relationship before - let alone with someone like Jeremy. He hesitated and then placed his hand on Jeremy's lower back.

A soft knock on the door caused Michael to look up. Michael felt his pace quicken: this would be one of Jeremy's parents, which worried him. He knew they were more accepting than his own Father, but he also didn't know what they would be willing to accept. Plus, Jeremy was currently laying against him - which would be hard to explain if they weren't accepting.

Before he could think, the door slowly opened and Mrs Fitzgerald stuck her head inside.

“Oh! Sorry, boys. I didn't realize you were busy! I made some cookies and I.. I wanted to share some with you,” She spoke, slightly embarrassed that they already had so many snacks.

“No thanks, Mom. We’re good,” Jeremy spoke, smiling at his mother. He thought for a moment before adding, “Hey.. Mom?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Come in here.. Uh. Mike and I want to tell you something,” Jeremy spoke, briefly standing up to open the door and motion for his mother in.

Michael locked eyes with his boyfriend as if telepathically saying “are we really doing this??” Jeremy simply laughed in response and walked back over to Michael, offering the brown haired boy his hand. Michael hesitated before taking Jeremy's hand and standing up next to him.

Jeremy took a deep breath and wrapped his arm around Michael's shoulders. “Mom.. Michael and I.. are,” he begun shaking a little and Michael quickly turned his head towards Jeremy and gave a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder. He quietly whispered something encouraging to the blonde and turned back towards Jeremy’s mother.

“Mom. Michael and I are.. dating. He's my boyfriend,” Jeremy finally managed to speak the words (and release the breath he didn't know he was holding) and then he looked towards his mother, awaiting her response.

Jeremy's mother was silent for a while and then she broke out into a big grin. She moved closer to the two boys and wrapped them into a hug.

“Oh, sweetheart, I'm so happy for you. Thank you so much for telling me,” Mrs. Fitzgerald spoke softly, moving her hands and gently cupping Jeremy’s face.

“Mooom, you're embarrassing me,” Jeremy complained, trying to wriggle out of his mother’s grasp. Michael couldn't help but smile at the scene, however, something inside him hurt. He realized he could never experience this situation. To be honest, it made him jealous. But he'd never tell Jeremy that, of course. Just because Michael's family had not been the best didn't mean he needed to ruin someone else’s happiness.

“Oh, Michael, get in here! Let me give you a big hug. You have no idea how happy my Jeremy-Bear is when he talks about you,” Mrs. Fitzgerald spoke, quickly moving to drag Michael into the hug once again before he could protest. “I'm very proud of both of you boys. I know it's tough to tell someone something like this.”

She gave them each one more tender, motherly arm squeeze before exiting back down the stairs.

“Your mom is so sweet, Jer,” Michael spoke once Mrs. Fitzgerald had left, though he didn't seem to notice the sadness that had seeped into his voice. But Jeremy did. He always did. He felt Jeremy's arms wrapped around him before he heard him move.

“She loves you, Mike.” Jeremy spoke softly, his grip tightening slightly around the shorter boy.

Michael smiled sadly and nodded before burying his head in the crook of Jeremy's neck. “I'm glad someone does, at least.”

“Don’t you dare say shit like that again, Michael Afton. You have so many people who care about you - my parents, Vanessa, Vanessa’s parents, me! Your dad can go to hell.”

Michael sort of shrugged, but made no effort to respond. Jeremy moved back a bit, gripping Michael by both shoulders, and shook him.

“I’m serious. You're so important to everyone around you. Who cares what your father thinks?”

“Sorry-”

“No. You have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault. Life dealt you a bad hand - but, Mike, you're the strongest person I know. Most people would've crumbled by now.” Jeremy cut him off before Michael could apologize any more, cupping the sides of his face so Michael was looking him in the eye.

“I'm so tired, Jeremy. Everyday he gets worse, I never know when he’ll snap next.”

“Yes, but you shouldn't have to! That's the thing.”

“Please.. can we just drop it?” Michael avoided Jeremy’s gaze and began fidgeting with the sleeves of his borrowed sweater.

“You're right, I'm sorry,” Jeremy apologized and released Michael's face. Then, he realized that Michael probably was physically tired, too. “C'mon, let's head to bed. It's been a wild day. Plus, the rain doesn't seem to be letting up anytime soon. I'm sure my Mom wouldn't mind you staying the night.”

Before Michael could respond, Jeremy had moved away and began untucking the layers of blankets that seemed to hide his bed.

Jeremy grabbed Michael's wrist and gently pulled him towards the bed and sat him down.

“You can use as many blankets as you want, I don't mind!” Jeremy beamed. He then preceded to have an “oh!” moment and disappeared inside his closet. Michael heard lots of rummaging and his curiosity continued to grow. Soon, Jeremy emerged once again. This time, he was holding a pair of pajamas with various pictures of E.T. littered across them.

“They might be a little big, but you can borrow them for the night,” Jeremy spoke as he walked over and placed them in Michael’s hands, “unless you want to sleep in old jeans..?” He raised an eyebrow, though it was nothing more than teasing.

Michael rolled his eyes, thanked Jeremy, and quickly went to change into the pajamas. Once he returned, he nearly folded his borrowed clothing and placed them on the nearest flat surface. He hesitated a bit - unsure of where he should lay down. However, Jeremy quickly patted the spot next to him on his bed.

“I don't mind sharing, really. And! I don't bite. Mostly,” Jeremy reassured the shorter as he scooted over to make room. “Besides, we did this at plenty of sleep overs before. Just think of it like that!”

Michael nodded and laid down next to Jeremy, who gave him another reassuring smile. “Thanks. I'm sorry for imposing myself on you, especially without calling first.” He whispered while pulling some blankets over the two of them.

“Nah, don't worry about it. You're welcome any time you like.”

The two sat in silence for a while and eventually Jeremy began to drift off. Michael hesitated, thinking over his next decision carefully, and then impulsively turned and rested his head against Jeremy's chest.

Jeremy let out a sleepy “huh?” at the feeling of weight on his chest and then smiled when he realized what Michael had done. He let his arms naturally fall and land on Michael's upper back, however one moved to its earlier position of twirling a few strands of Michael's hair around his fingers.

A few more minutes of silence pass and Jeremy begins to drift off once again, however he is quickly interrupted.

“Jeremy?” Michael asked quietly, waiting a bit to see if Jeremy had fully fallen asleep.

“Mm?” Jeremy replied with a sleepy mumble.

“Why is everything in my life so difficult?”

“I don't know, Mike.. I really don't know.”

Michael sighed and decided that would be the best answer he'd get - unless he wanted some sort of religious spiel about certain plans and whatnot. He left Jeremy return to sleep before joining him a few minutes later. He decided he better enjoy this moment while it lasted, despite the bubbling anxiety that was welling up in his stomach. He certainly didn't look forward to returning home tomorrow.

One problem at a time, Mike. One problem at a time. He thought to himself as he was finally able to drift off to sleep.

–

Turns out it would be several problems at one time.

Michael dressed in his (now clean and dry, thanks to Mrs. Fitzgerald) clothes from the previous day and began his trek back to his own apartment - making sure to pick a time he knew William would be working in the hellscape he called his workshop.

He carefully retraced his usual path and made it to the front lawn. Taking another step, Michael heard a loud crunch. He looked around noticed several objects glinting in the sun and went over to investigate. Michael felt his heart sank when he realized it was pieces of plastic. He knelt down and took a closer look, finding the pieces of all his favorite tapes. And, he was pretty sure he had his favorite songs stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

Damn it, Michael thought as he sighed and moved away from the pile of plastic scraps, I guess he noticed I was gone.

He shook his head and continued toward his bedroom window - which looked exactly the same as he had left it the night before.

Not thinking anything of it, and with the rain having washed away any evidence of William’s entrance, Michael pushed open his window and hoisted himself inside. He landed with a small “oomph” and dusted his pants off. While dusting his pants, however, he noticed another shadow present in the room. He slowly looked up and locked eyes with none other than William himself.

“William Michael Afton, where have you been?” William spoke, his arms crossed over his chest and he stood in a powerful stance. However, Michael noticed there was something crumpled in his left fist.

“Don't fucking call me that. My name is Michael,” Michael spat back, absolutely seething at being called his legal name - no one EVER called him by that, he'd probably punch them if they did.

“I wouldn't be so sure, Junior. You see, I was the one who named you. I think I know what your name is.” There he went again, dismissing Michael's entire personhood. Well, it wasn't anything he wasn't used to. Michael used to cry every night until his Mother finally agreed to let him go by Michael instead.

“Anyway, you haven't answered my question. Where. The. Hell. Have. You. Been?” William spoke again, moving closer and jabbing a finger harshly into Michael's ribs with every word. “Answer me.”

“Nowhere, sir.”

“Are you sure that's the answer you want to go with?” William narrows his eyes, leaning over his son in an attempt to make him cave in; shrink himself down and disappear. After all, that's what he wants. For Michael to disappear.

Michael briefly glanced at his father's eyes, noting the only emotions present were anger and boredom. That's how he always looked at Michael, though sometimes there was a sprinkle of disappointment. He looked back at the floor and gulped. Just tell him, Egghead. He already knows you left. He mentally scolded himself before speaking.

“A friend’s. I was at a friend’s house, Father.”

“Hmm,” William pursed his lips and scrutinized Michael’s body language and tone for any hint of dishonesty. “Which friend, exactly?”

Michael gulped once again. If he told him, he risked putting Jeremy in danger. But if he didn't, then he put himself in danger. No big deal, he could handle that. But he desperately wanted to protect Jeremy, so he remained silent.

“Answer me, goddamn it!” William raised his voice, his hand flying to the collar of Michael's shirt. Michael still remained silent, even as William had slammed him into the bookshelf and sent several personal objects (some of them glass) cascading to the floor with a loud crash.

Michael had to bite his lip to avoid crying out in pain - he was sure that he would have a few bruises, most likely cuts too, since the glasses broke on the impact and gashed through his windbreaker, managing to hit skin. Another large glass photo frame crashed into his face and left a large gash across his left eye and a bruise across his cheekbone.

“Your silence is not his protection, you know,” William whispered, setting Michael back on the ground and releasing his collar.

“W.. what are you talking about?” Michael spoke, straightening his jacket and still refusing to look at William.

“Don't play dumb with me,” William finally unfurled his left fist and revealed a crumpled up polaroid. Michael's heart sank once again; he knew exactly what that was. “If that faggot Fitzgerald is making you think you're one of those queers, I will never let you see him again.”

“N-no.. that's not.. He's not.. Uh.. I'm not-” Michael shook his head furiously, scrambling to come up with an excuse.

“I don't care what he does in his own home, but he will not infect mine. Not with this.. disease,” William scoffed and shoved the polaroid into Michael’s face - trying to emphasize what exactly the ‘disease’ was.

“If you ever pull something like this again, I will destroy more things than you cassette tapes, William Michael Afton.”

“Stop. Stop fucking calling me that,” Michael finally broke out of his stupor and began shaking uncontrollably. His anger was beginning to take control of him and he hated how much it made him look like William.

“Just.. leave me alone. I'm not gay, alright! It was just some stupid dare. It didn't mean anything. Vanessa took the picture as a joke, okay? It's all one big fucking joke!” The words felt like poison leaving Michael's mouth, they burned as they bubbled through his throat. He felt awful for not being able to defend himself or Jeremy. He felt awful that William was his father. He just felt awful.

“Good. Then you won't be needing this, will you?” William asked, the hatred evident in his voice. Michael looked up just as he heard the first rip - right through Jeremy’s face on the polaroid. He felt a pang in his heart but simply shook his head “no.” William continued until the entire thing was no more than a few paper scraps with what remained of Jeremy and Michael’s facial features.

“Oh, and clean up this room.” And with that, William stormed out once again. Michael slid down the backside of his door and crumpled to his knees. He had never felt so empty and alone in his life. He desperately wanted to cry but he would not give William the satisfaction over controlling his emotions. He would not cry. He would not cry. He would not cry.

A single tear began trailing down his cheek. He would cry.

–

Brrng Brrrng

The phone rang for what felt like the seventeenth time. It was getting on William’s nerves. He started to call out for someone else to answer it, but he couldn't exactly say “hey, Michael, I know we had a little argument yesterday but can you answer the phone? Pretty please??” and bat his eyelids. He groaned and rolled up his oil-covered sleeves, grabbing the nearest cloth like object and wiping off his hands.

William begrudgingly answered the phone with a slightly annoyed sounding “'Ello?”

“Mr. Afton! I'm sorry. I was trying to reach Michael.. we were supposed to hang out today,” the voice spoke through the speaker. It sounded very embarrassed to have called the wrong person.

“Who is this?”

“Oh! Umm.. It’s Jeremy, sir. Jeremy Fitzgerald?... Michael's.. best friend..?”

“Ah. Fitzgerald, yes. I remember… Michael is not available right now. He seems to.. have come down with a cold. He was complaining about.. cold rain and having to walk through it earlier.” William scrambled to come up with an excuse. This was the boy who was fond of his son? Now was the perfect chance to ruin whatever budding relationship they might've had.

“Actually, Johnny,”

“Jeremy.”

“Whatever. Let me see if Michael will be willing to take your call.”

William had the perfect plan, and it involved his newest prototype: the Hand Unit, now with built in voice synthesizer and voice capture abilities. Of course, William who was always plotting, and had recorded his argument with Michael the night before. He fiddled around with the buttons on the Hand Unit and switched it to the “angsty teen” setting - one he designed specifically to sound like Michael. Once he had it set up, he took his hand off of the receiver and made a test ‘hello?’

“Mike? Oh, thank God! I was worried you'd never pick up.” Jeremy's voice sounded through the speaker once again and William scowled at the relief he heard. Teenagers are so gullible these days.

“Jeremy?” William typed into the touchpad on the Hand Unit, amazed at his own handiwork and how clear it came out.

“Are you still able to come over today?”

William pressed a few more buttons, spewing out the first of the pre-recorded messages: “What are you talking about?”

“Don't you remember? You said you'd try to come over later today.”

William rolled his eyes and began flipping a few switches. It's now or never, I guess. He thought to himself as he searched through the messages for the real zinger: “Just.. leave me alone.”

“What..?”

“I'm not gay, alright! It was just some stupid dare. It didn't mean anything. Vanessa took the picture as a joke, okay? It's all one big fucking joke!” William’s lips moved into an evil smile as he awaited Jeremy’s response. This is more fun than I imagined. He thought to himself, giving him an imaginary pat on the back.

“Mike? You.. you don't mean that, right?” The hurt in the boy’s voice almost made William feel bad. Almost.

He had one final phrase to say and loaded it in as fast as he could: “Stop fucking calling me.”

Just as the Hand Unit finished the last sentence, it began to short out. William groaned in frustration and accidentally took his hand off the receiver, “Blasted thing. I thought I fixed that.” However, William did not realize that Jeremy very clearly heard that. William quickly hung up the phone and returned to his work, which now included fixing the Hand Unit.

Jeremy was a mixture of hurt and confused, had Michael actually said those things? And what was that strange thing Mr. Afton had said? “Blasted thing?” Something seemed fishy here, and he was going to figure out what happened.

–

Jeremy practically stormed out of his house, sprinting down the sidewalk as fast as his lanky build could carry him. By the time he arrived at the Afton’s doorstep, he was out of breath. He quickly knocked on the front door before hunching over to regain control of his breathing.

No answer. That's odd. They always answer on the first knock. Jeremy thought to himself. How else could he get in? And then it hit him; Michael's window. He grabbed a few pebbles (in case the window wasn't already open) and trekked around the side of the building.

Just his luck, the window was firmly shut. Jeremy selected a medium sized pebble, said a silent prayer that this glass was reinforced, and gently threw the pebble towards the small window. It landed against the glass with a small thump. Jeremy thanked whatever higher being that it hadn't shattered instantly

Seeing that there was no response to the first pebble, Jeremy picked up another and threw it much harder.

Michael glanced over at the sudden noise, just in time to see a small object land against his window. He pushed himself off the floor - wincing slightly as his injuries were still fresh (and had been left untreated). He shuffled over and glanced outside. Seeing that someone was outside (and actively throwing pebbles), Michael opened his window and tried to get a better look.

“Jeremy? What are you doing here?” Michael asked - confusion and a headache swarmed around his skull.

“Mike! I tried the front door but no one answered. I needed to talk to you in person.” Jeremy looked relieved when Michael had actually opened the doors. He placed down his handful of pebbles and began climbing in through the window.

Once he was inside, he dusted himself off and then finally looked at Michael.

“Oh.. Mike, what happened?” Jeremy walked over and gently grabbed Michael's chin, turning his head towards the light so he could better see the damage. The entire left side of Michael's face was swollen and slightly purple from the new bruising. Jeremy subconsciously ran his thumb over Michael's swollen lip, though he quickly moved his hand back when Michael flinched.

Jeremy took a closer look at the room and quickly noticed the large amount of broken glass that little Michael's bedroom floor.

“I'm fine, Jeremy. I.. tripped… into the bookshelf. And took a picture frame right to the face,” Michael quickly lied, even adding a chuckle to make it seem more accident like.

“We need to get you to a doctor, Michael. This could be seriously infected!” Jeremy moved back over to Michael and motioned to his injured face.

“No!” Michael snapped, then realized his tone and softened his words as he continued speaking, “No doctors. They'll.. they'll ask questions I'm not prepared to answer, okay? I'm fine.”

“Fine, but at least let me use a first aid kit, okay? I don't want there to be an infection,” Jeremy didn't even wait on a reply before fishing around in his bag full of necessary items, that he ALWAYS carried with him, and pulling out a small, travel sized first aid kit.

Jeremy sat down on Michael's bed and motioned for him to sit down as well. Michael obliged, though he was hesitant to let Jeremy doctor his wounds.

“By the way, Mike,” Jeremy began speaking in between Michael's winces as the cold antiseptic touched his face, “did you answer the phone earlier?”

“No..? I haven't left my room all day,” Michael shrugged and motioned to the state he was currently in, “Besides, Father banned me from using the phones.”

“Then.. who did I speak to earlier? It sounded just like you.. and you said some really mean things.” Jeremy's brow furrowed as he thought back to the earlier phone conversation.

Michael's eyes widened. Someone had spoken to Jeremy and pretended to be him? Not only that, but they apparently said something awful?

“If.. you don't mind me asking, what sort of things were said?” Michael asked, glancing up at Jeremy - who was still in deep thought.

“Well, first of all, you acted like you had no idea about our plans. Then, you started saying that.. that everything was just a joke and that you only did this because it was a dare. And that it meant nothing.. It really hurt to hear you say that,” Jeremy frowned, scanning Michael's face for any recognition for the words.

“Did the person say anything else?”

“Well, you said.. ‘stop fucking calling me’. And then the phone hung up.” Jeremy shrugged and searched his own memory for anything else that happened.

Michael's own expression was one of horror, he had recalled all of those things - but he distinctly remembered saying them to his father, not Jeremy.

“Jeremy, all those things.. They were part of an argument with my Father. He.. I was just trying to protect you. I didn't mean anything I said to him. I don't know how you heard it, but none of it was true,” Michael spoke softly, reaching over and gently squeezing Jeremy's hand.

“And that last part?”

“He kept calling me by my legal name - not Michael. The full context was ‘stop fucking calling me that'. I would never tell you to stop calling me.” Michael noticed how hurt Jeremy had seemed and placed a gentle hand on his cheek, “Please believe me, Jer. I'm sorry if my image was used to hurt you.”

Jeremy leaned into Michael's hand before placing his own on top of it. “I do believe you. But there was something else. Something weird.”

“What?”

“After the last sentence, it didn't instantly hang up. It sounded like wires shortcircuiting - oh, and I heard someone say ‘Blasted thing’,” Jeremy recalled, trying to give Michael as much detail as possible to help solve this mystery, “any ideas?”

Michael's expression dropped: he knew exactly what this was. “My father.”

Jeremy cocked his head to the side, clearly confused by this statement, “What do you mean by that?”

“My father. He's the one behind it. He.. he threatened that I would never be able to talk to you again. I.. I didn't know he'd do something like this, though.” Michael shook his head as the dots all seemed to connect in his brain.

Jeremy made another sort of ‘okay he's lost his mind’ gesture and his confusion continued to grow.

“Jeremy, he makes things. It's not impossible he could make something that captured the argument he and I had. What if.. what if he used that to try and dissuade you from.. from seeing me.” Michael placed his hand on Jeremy's shoulder and continued to gesture with his other. His eyes were wild as he realized just how far his father planned ahead. His breathing grew faster and his chest felt tight. How much had his father known? What else would he know?

Everything was too loud. Michael felt as if the walls were closing in around him. He began shaking once again. He didn't even seem to notice Jeremy calling his name. He was having an anxiety attack. Michael hadn't experienced one this bad since after his mother had passed away. Everything felt distant and like it was too close at the same time.

“Mike? Mike?” Jeremy's concerned voice couldn't reach him. “Michael?” The concern grew even louder.

Jeremy hesitated before placing his hands on both sides of Michael's face. “Mike, look at me. You're okay. It's okay.”

Michael remained frozen in place for a few more seconds until he felt the warmth of Jeremy’s hands against his cheeks. He slowly came back to reality, focusing on Jeremy's face instead of his overwhelming thoughts.

Jeremy stayed like that until Michael had calmed down enough to speak.

“I'm sorry for scaring you, Jer..” He trailed off, still worked up from the moments before.

Jeremy simply shook his head and wrapped his arms around Michael, pulling him as close as he could and hugging him as tightly as he dared - he was still unsure where else the injuries had spread and didn't want to harm Michael even more. Jeremy kept repeating “it's okay, you're okay” while gently rubbing his hand up and down Michael's back.

Michael sank into Jeremy’s arms and sniffled slightly. Jeremy placed a gentle kiss onto the top of Michael's hair.

“We’ll figure this out, Mike. Together.” Jeremy spoke before resting his chin on the top of his head. “We don't have to do anything right now, okay?”

Michael nodded and remained in this position until he completely calmed down.

“Jeremy, can we leave? Tonight? I don't want to be around him anymore.” Michael asked as he finally removed his head off of Jeremy's shoulder. He looked up at him hopefully, eagerly awaiting his response.

“Okay. If you want to,” Jeremy spoke, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind Michael's ear, “I'm sure my mom won't mind.”

So the two packed until Michael's room was completely empty. They carried as much as their backpacks could hold. Then they ran as fast as their legs could carry them. They ran until they were gasping for air.

The two of them soon arrived at the Fitzgerald household - where Mrs. Fitzgerald let them in without any questions. She was familiar with William's harsh parenting styles and knew that questions made Michael uncomfortable.

She quickly hugged Michael and agreed to let him stay as long as he wanted. Michael felt the burning of tears well up in his eyes. It's been a long time since he had a place where he felt wanted. It was quite nice.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #jeremy fitzgerald #michael afton #fnaf vanessa #vanessa shelly #william afton #fnaf fic #fnaf fanfic #ollie's writings #fanfic writing #writing #ollie's rambles #fnaf rambles #this took me so fucking long #graaah #gay #jeremike #jeremy x michael #michael afton x jeremy fitzgerald #jeremy fitzgerald x michael afton #comfort ship #10k words #fic writing #tw f slur #tw homophobia #tw abuse #anxitey #anxiety mention #fitzafton

[natasha-in-space]

Lights

VAE!Ray/Natasha Stakh;

Was originally written for @rfaromance holiday event, but, uhhh, honestly not sure if this fits the theme much cause I'm a big dumb-dumb who thought that the theme was 'light' not 'lights', and noticed my mistake only in the middle of writing this piece 💀 not to mention it's not holiday related like at all

But hey, I had fun working on this so why not post it anyways! I'll probably make this a series of their own, because there's still a lot to explore with this scenario, and I have a general idea of where the story will go.

Ch. 1 (you are here), Ch. 2

The lights of the hospital were only growing more and more unbearable to look at as time slowly drifted by.

Three agonizingly long days have somehow passed since the harrowing defeat of Mint Eye was finally achieved. And yet, these last three days felt like years to Natasha. Time seemed to stop all together as if the world by itself has decided to hold its breath in fearsome anticipation of what was to come next.

To say that the RFA was in disarray is to say nothing at all. And while she felt guilty for refusing to meet up with them properly after talking with them through the chatroom for days, she just couldn't bear the thought of facing any of them right now. Not while both Jihyun and Ray were stuck in this hospital, all because of her. At least... It felt like it was because of her.

Of course, she was so incredibly grateful for the sudden burst of pure recklessness she somehow managed to find within herself to go and disobey Seven's orders for her to stay put in that cabin. Who knows what would've happen if she didn't take that car and drove all the way back to the very same building she worked so hard to escape from. She got there barely in time to find Ray still breathing, albeit barely, underneath the charred remains of their former false paradise. Really, it all felt like a miracle. Not only that, but also her hastily deciding to turn back after her brief conversation with Jihyun about everything that has transpired, only to find his bloodied and unconscious body on the ground, much to her horror.

She saw way too much blood in that one day.

Still... All of this felt like a happy coincidence, nothing more. While yes, she was so very glad that they're both okay, no doubt about that, but... in reality, nothing was okay. All of this was her fault. She should have been kinder to Ray, instead of wallowing in her own self-pity and pushing him away as a result of that. She should have persuaded Rika more insistently, instead of giving up on her so quickly just because of her own frustrations with her behavior.

She should have been better.

It's all her fault that everyone got hurt in the end.

Moreover, Natasha felt like she failed everyone, not just Ray and Jihyun. Even her initial euphoria of saving Ray just in time was painfully short-lived. Mere hours after successfully getting him admitted to the hospital, yet another tragedy exploded right in her face before she could even breathe a single sigh of relief and change out of her charred and bloodied clothes.

Who could have predicted that Ray was, in fact, Seven's younger brother?

These three days passed in a complete chaotic daze. She tried her best to keep the atmosphere calm between everyone, but it was practically impossible when she had to explain to Seven that his brother will not be happy to see him in the slightest once he wakes up. She couldn't blame him for getting angry with her at first. He was obviously hurting deeply - no - he was on the verge of breaking down completely. Gone was the calm and collected Luciel she spent her days in the cabin with. The pure and honest anguish in his golden eyes was too much for her to bear. In truth, she knew almost as much information as he did, which is nothing at all. Their knowledge was heavily limited, and only Rika and Jihyun had the scattered pieces to this harrowing puzzle that they both were now desperate to solve, both for their own reasons.

Still, she did her best to cheer him up, however she could. Luciel was her friend... and she couldn't see him suffering all alone like this.

Even if he pushed her away right now.

And so, she found herself sitting next to Ray's bedside once more, gently holding onto his hand and waiting for him to wake up at last. This wouldn't be the first time he'd open his eyes... except, the last time didn't go so well, to say the least. The only other person besides himself in his ward at the moment was Luciel, which is why this first meeting went horribly wrong from the get-go. In the end, Seven had to be hurriedly escorted away so as to not put any more stress on the patient, all while some sedatives had to be administered to prevent further harm Ray could cause to himself. This is why, once he finally started to stir again, Seven merely put down his laptop with a heavy and pained sigh falling from his lips. Quickly flashing a last wistful glance at his younger brother, he quickly left the room, leaving the two of them to their privacy, although he was clearly going against his own wishes, which was quite obvious to take note of, judging by the way he clenched his fists so tightly, she was afraid that he'd break the skin of his palms with his fingernails.

Natasha did feel incredibly guilty watching him leave. Still, she couldn't find the words within herself to reassure him. It didn't seem right to leave him out the door when Ray was so obviously important to him. She didn't deserve to be the one seeing him like this after everything that's happened. And yet... the bitter truth was that Ray viewed Luciel as an enemy that would harm him on sight. She just hoped she could somehow persuade her former boss to talk to Seven in one way or another.

The young woman sighed as a deep frown settled on her features. Ugh... Just what could have happened between them? She had an idea to try and contact Jihyun once he's stable enough, but... Something told her that this would be a very long conversation, for which she did not have the mental strength right now. She felt guilty enough for not telling Seven anything earlier, even if her knowledge didn't consist of anything useful.

He looked so depressed... Even with her not knowing anything useful about the situation, she could see that Ray was someone incredibly precious to him.

What in the world happened...?

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

This time, the white-haired boy's mind was even hazier than before due to the drugs still remaining in his system. With a quiet pained groan, he forced himself to slowly open his eyes, only to quickly realize that only one of them has successfully listened to his efforts. Soon, he could also take notice of the same painfully bright white ceiling above him he saw before, which made him shut his eyes again almost immediately.

He wanted to escape the darkness so badly, and yet, these lights were even more horrifying to look at.

No matter how hard he silently begged his own mind for the peaceful void of unconsciousness to take hold of him once more, the fear has only gotten stronger, making his heart start to beat faster and faster inside his chest, pumping blood and oxygen through his system and not letting him relax. Wherever he was... He was not supposed to be here. If it's not Magenta, he will not survive. He didn't want anyone to control him or tie him up. He didn't want to be hurt again.

Once he tried to speak, he realized that his speech was slurred, while his voice sounded so incredibly hoarse and quiet that he could hardly make out the individual words he mumbled out himself. Or, maybe it's because of the slight ringing inside of his ears that just wouldn't go away. He didn't know. All he did know is that everything terrified him and he wanted to leave, whatever that even meant at this point.

"Don't... Please, don't. Let me go..."

Everything was so confusing and so suffocating to him. He did not understand at all what this place was, why he was in so much pain, and why his body felt so horribly heavy as if there was a mountain of bricks placed onto his chest. "Please... Please don't..."

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

Natasha twitched slightly upon feeling the sudden movement from his side.

She didn't hear what he was saying exactly, so she had to carefully lean over him in order to catch bits and pieces of the broken phrases falling from his pale lips. He sounded so weak... so helpless. It was heartbreaking for her to see and hear. She sighed heavily as she slowly sat back down and hesitantly ran both of her thumbs over the skin of his healthy hand, carefully resting her chin on the bedsheets next to his side.

It's best not to get emotional right now, she told herself. He needed reassurance at this very moment more than ever. She has to keep herself together, not just for Ray's sake, but for Seven's as well. She has to be the pillar of strength they all need in this dire time.

Everyone is counting on her.

So, she tried to comfort him the best way she could, gently coaxing him awake with her voice, but not pushing him into opening his eyes quite yet.

"Shh... It's okay. No one will hurt you. I promise. You're okay."

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

Ray's breath hitched in his throat.

This voice... Is he just... hearing things again? It certainly won't be the first time this would happen. He didn't want to get his hopes up.

'Why would she want to be with you? She doesn't need you. She doesn't need us. She left a long time ago.'

Indeed, he believed in these words as much as his other half did, however... For some reason, he still tried opened his eyes just one more time, not knowing what is it exactly, that he was hoping to see. This is probably just another one of his dreams. He just... wants to see Natasha again. To know that someone is there when he's so incredibly scared and alone, even if it's not real. And yet... when a familiar saddened face slowly appeared before his bleary vision, he really didn't know what to say.

This time, the lights were almost blinding to look at. And yet, he couldn't look away, even if he wanted to.

His mind went completely blank for a couple of seconds, leaving him just staring at the same face that he longed to see again for days on end, basking in bright lights from above. Even if it was only a fragment of his lonely imagination, he missed her… so, so much.

She looked like a real angel.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Ray instinctively tried to get at least a tiny bit closer to her, fighting against the searing pain in his heavy limbs, as if it wasn't even there. A ragged breath escaped past his lips, along with her name being repeated over and over again like a mantra of sorts. And that's when he remembered his final decision that lead him to where he was now.

A single tear rolled down his uncovered cheek as the hand she kept holding on to shakily squeezed her fingers in return. His heart fluttered in his chest at the contact, making him temporarily forget about the fear raging in his confused mind. But even this warm feeling of faint hope that embraced him in a promise of safety had a bitter aftertaste to it that quickly made itself known in an urgent hiss.

'What are you getting emotional for? She's probably just here to get something out of you. She's on the traitor's side.'

"I-I didn't... It worked, didn't it? Then- Why am I here? And why are you here... I don't understand..." Ray sniffed softly, licking over his dry lips and only now realizing, just how incredibly thirsty he was. "You hate me... You can't be here. Then what... What does that mean? Why does everything hurt so much?"

It was so hard for him to speak and to say anything coherent, both because of his physical condition and the raging hurricane of conflicting emotions taking hold of his already overwhelmed mind. His words were sluggish and hard to make out. And still, despite it all, he tried to snuggle up to Natasha as close as possible, fighting against the desperate protests of his exhausted body and the enraged hiss inside his own head. He sincerely believed that her image would just fade away into the blinding lights if he let her out of his sight even for a second.

There was so much left unsaid between them... so much he wanted for her to know. So much he forgot to say the last time they spoke. He couldn't even say goodbye to her properly before he did what he did.

"I'm... so sorry. I'm so weak. I didn't want to say goodbye to you. But, now I know that I'm a terrible person that never deserved your light in the first place. I'm so sorry that I let you down."

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

Natasha had to focus all of her mental strength on not acting out too emotionally right now.

God... She replayed so many variations of this very moment in her head plenty of times during these last three days of her stay in the hospital, but, even so, a suffocating wave of differing feelings swept over her seemingly in an instant, making it extremely difficult for her to contain the inner chaos twisting and turning her stomach in response to what was happening right before her. The joy of finally seeing him conscious and hearing his voice again, the deep sorrow from his distressed words, the pain of witnessing him in such a fragile state, both physically and mentally.

And... guilt. An overwhelming sense of guilt eating her up from the inside out.

All she wanted to do was to cry out that he got it all wrong, that she never thought of him as a terrible person, that he shouldn't even think about something like that. But, that would only frighten him further. Which is why, she tried her best to contain this influx of emotions in one way or another, not wanting to accidentally scare him any more than he already was with an explosive reaction coming from her. Instead, she exhaled shakily, attempting to comfort the boy clinging to her so desperately one more time. "Shh, you didn't let anyone down, it's okay. Don't apologize."

Still, unable to restrain herself, Natasha allowed herself to get just a tiny bit greedy for once and express a certain amount of her feelings by carefully squeezing his hand between both of her palms a bit tighter before lowering herself just enough to leave a light kiss on the back of his hand. Thinking about it again, this gesture could easily just confuse him even further, for which she internally chastised herself, but, at this moment, she was simply too glad to see her friend safe. Or... well, relatively safe.

She lifted her head up again, smiling faintly at him.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Ray. I promise I won't leave you again, I'm sorry..."

Succumbing to the huge lump of guilt stuck in her throat, her gaze darted down at the floor, before she managed to pull herself together with a bit of effort. Only one quiet sniffle escaped as she stealthily wiped at her eyes and returned to her original position, carefully running her thumbs over his palm.

No use crying now.

As she spoke, she laid her chin on the bedsheets, fixing her gaze on his face. "You're in the hospital... I took you out of there. After the explosion. I sat here with you all this time because I knew how scary it would be for you to wake up all alone in here, but, in the end, you woke up when I wasn't here. You got really stressed, and that can be harmful to you right now, so you were given some sedatives to help you calm down... And I was waiting for you to wake up again ever since."

She clenched her jaw, mumbling softly.

"I understand that you are in pain right now... You were badly injured in the explosion... I think you will be given painkillers until you recover enough, but I don't know for sure."

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

Ray stared blankly at Natasha - no - rather... he looked absolutely shocked.

For what seemed like the first time in forever, a hopeful light returned to his glossy eyes. Those words were so warm, so... kind. How could anyone care for him so much...

Really, how?

"W-what...? So this is..."

'Are you that stupid?'

Bitterness filled his chest once more as the light faded out just as quickly as it sprang to life. "But why...?"

The bomb should have been enough to destroy the entire building completely. How can this be real?

"All... this time...? You won't leave me...? Why?"

The light coming from her words was so warm, but he... Ray stubbornly refused to trust that any of this could be real. It just couldn't be! How can Natasha kiss him and say such nice things? And in order to find him and bring him here... she had to go after him in the first place, right? She would have to come back to Magenta on her own. But... she always refused him whenever he begged for her to do so. She even turned down their Savior's invitation. So... How could this be?

"If... If this is a joke, I... N-no... I lied to you, I hurt you, I hurt your friends, you got angry with me, you hated me. You can't... say things like that so easily. It hurts too much..." His eyes filled with bitter tears once again. No matter how hard he tried to understand, it all seemed so ridiculously unreal and fictional. Like it's some kind of cruel joke, or another nightmare of his, or even vice versa: a good dream, exploiting his stupid daydreams just to break his heart into a million pieces once he gives in to this sweet facade. He was afraid to trust this warmth again because it seemed... even laughable. His dreams were just that: laughable, unachievable, and cloyingly sweet as if he was just a stupid child, unable to think rationally and see reality for what it is. So, he forced himself to reject it all, even if his heart longed for him to grasp at her and never let her go...

It all seemed like a cruel mockery.

"I-If... this is your punishment for me, then please stop. I know, I know that I've done so many terrible things to you and that I don't deserve such kindness. I know that. I destroyed the last good thing left in my life, and I hurt you so much. I believed I was doing the right thing, I was so selfish."

The tears were now freely running down his cheeks, dripping onto the sheets, as his breathing got more and more panicked. "I know that I was selfish, and that's why everyone left me in the end... I really know that. I'm sorry that I was such a burden to you. I'm really sorry for all the pain I've caused you, just please don't punish me like this!"

He shakily pulled his hand out of her grasp against his own desires, only to press it up against his head, digging his fingers deep into his hair and ignoring the searing pain in response to his careless movements. He pulled at his hair as if he was trying to distract himself from his mental distress with a physical sensation, however unpleasant it may be.

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

Natasha gently reached back after his hand, trying to slowly ease him into letting go of his own hair and stop hurting himself. She attempted to keep her tone of voice quiet and soft, not wanting to cause him any more stress than he was already experiencing.

"Ray... I'm sorry. Please don't apologize and don't hurt yourself like this... I never hated you. You need to rest now. We can talk about everything that happened between us... later."

She had to look away for a couple of seconds before continuing, slightly furrowing her brows. "-But just know that I'm not angry with you, and I'm not trying to... punish you... I'm really glad that you're okay. I have no desire to hurt you..."

She sighed as she stood up from her seat to gently wipe the tears from his face, barely holding back the urge to wince when the boy reacted as if she was about to hit him. She tilted her head.

"I'll prove to you that I'm telling the truth. I'm not going to leave you or mock you for anything you've done. I'll be with you in this very room until you get better, if you want me to stay. So if you're too scared to believe me now... I hope that you can trust me with time. Just... please don't cry... I won't hurt you. I just want you to get better."

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

He felt lost all over again. He wanted to believe that all of this was true so much. The fact that Natasha really appreciated him so sincerely, that he meant so much to her... But he did not understand at all how she could possibly want to take care of him after everything that happened. "I... thought you left forever when you ran away with V. You left me. I thought you hated me... No... You should hate me. You said that I hurt you and that you don't want to come back to our paradise..."

Despite all this... He was still so very scared. Thinking about the fact that Natasha will really leave him and he will remain here all alone... Ray squeezed her hand with his trembling fingers once again. What can he do? The Savior left him, he didn't have anyone and he is as helpless and useless as can be. He is a nobody. He is not even capable of living in this world on his own. Even if she hurts him eventually... How bad will it hurt to be without her? If it's true... If she's really here, even if he does not understand anything at all and does not know what she really wants from him... She is the last remaining light in his life. If, by some stupid mistake, he's still alive, and if he can stay close to her, maybe one day he will be able to earn real kindness from her, and maybe she will let him stay...

Natasha swallowed nervously, carefully reciprocating his fearful touch, which only made him choke up even more. Her voice sounded so sweet... He wished he could listen to it forever.

"Shh... I really don't hate you, I promise. It's going to be okay... You don't have to think about any of that right now. Just know that I'm not trying to hurt you. I'll be here."

Before he knew it, his internal fight had come to its end, as he found himself clinging to her hand as tightly as he could with desperation seeping into his words. "Don't... Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me. I beg you, Natasha... Don't leave me here. You can do whatever you want with me, just don't leave. I can't be alone in here. I'll try to be better, I promise."

For him, love was... to devote yourself to someone. It was something you need to prove, something you need to deserve to receive. To be appreciated, he first needed to prove himself as worth appreciating. And if this is a devotion for Natasha, he... would agree to it without a second thought. Although his words now completely contradicted one another, he seems to be simply clinging to the most vivid thoughts filling his hazy and fragile mind.

"I-I don't want to be here... My Savior said that people like me would simply be locked up. They'll hurt me when they figure out who I am. I can't be here... Please."

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

She hesitantly reached out with her other hand to gently stroke his dried-out hair, being careful not to touch any of the bandages. "I know you're scared... I understand why you feel this way, trust me. But you need to get better, Ray... I'll be here with you all the time. You won't be alone, I promise. But you'll have to stay here until... you get well, okay?"

She tried to choose her next words carefully, hoping desperately to reassure him that everything will indeed be alright. She ran her thumb along the back of his hand in a soothing motion.

"In... Magenta... There were also doctors, right...? Someone brought you medicine for a headache... These people do the same thing. And I'll be there to help if something bad happens... If it weren't for their hard work, you'd-"

Unable to contain her own anxiety for a brief moment, she quickly lowered her gaze to the floor, closing her eyes tightly and exhaling shakily, trying her hardest to throw out the suffocating memory of him laying there, barely breathing and bloodied as she rushed him to the hospital. A sight that haunted her dreams ever since. Or, rather nightmares. Once she managed to regain her composure again, she continued, attempting to keep her voice from shaking too much. "-N-no, I'm sorry, there's no need for you to hear about that right now. What I wanted to say is: doctors are good people, Ray... They just help those who need treatment, nothing more."

Visible shame filled her dull green eyes as she pursed her lips into a thin line, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"I... hope that in time, you will be able to trust me again. I'm sorry for hurting you too... We both made some mistakes. I should have been more understanding of your circumstances."

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

Ray paused.

Her words sounded... wrong. Like Natasha was apologizing... Should she be apologizing? An answer popped up in his head almost immediately. Of course not. She feels bad? Because of... him? The thought confused him.

Still, he didn't want her to feel bad. Ray knew that sad look of hers so well... It's something he vowed to get rid of the day she joined Magenta.

He weakly squeezed her fingers in his own in a pathetic attempt at comforting her. He wished he could do more... But, his body refused to listen. "Are you okay...? I'm the one that should be sorry... For putting you through all of this. If I really made you worry about me... I'm sorry."

He looked around the room slowly, which was quite difficult when his vision seemed unwilling to focus. And again... No matter how much he wanted to rely on her, this place... It was terrifying. All the tubes attached to his skin, the meaning of which he did not understand, the disgusting chemical smell filling his nostrils, painfully loud beeping in the background making his ears throb... He was frightened even by the mere fact that they could put him to sleep at any moment.

Just like... when he got 'stressed'? That same fragment resurfaced in his memory and he felt a cold shiver run down his spine in an instant.

"Who... else knows about me?"

He wasn't that scared around Natasha, but there was still real fear present in his gaze. Maybe it was just... a hallucination of his?

Natasha hesitated, quickly dropping her gaze to the floor - a telltale sign of her feeling guilty, as he quickly learned through their shared time together. He could feel her fingers twitching in his grasp, probably as a result of her resisting the urge to hide her hands in her pockets. She was always a terrible liar... One of the many reasons why he chose to take her under his wing all these many days ago.

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

"Well- Um... If I'm being honest-" She forced herself to stop thrashing about, instead deciding to take a deep breath and calm down. She bit her lower lip as she looked up at him.

"Everyone... in the RFA? You're staying here with V, after... Rika... wounded him."

'Stabbed him' would sound too hostile.

“And Jumin provides funds for your treatment…”

Things at the RFA were... downcast to say the least.

The truth about herself, Rika, V, and everything in-between shook every single member of the group to their core. Everyone... coped in their own way.

Ugh... Just how many secrets are there?

Her honesty did not help much with Ray's anxiety, though. "So... So Luciel... He knows about me too, right? He was... here? What I saw was true? Where is he now?"

It seems that once the topic was brought up, he began to look more and more frightened by the second, which could not help but alert Natasha.

She shifted her gaze to him, slightly shaking her head.

"He's... in the hallway. I know how you feel about him, so we decided that it'd be better for him to leave the room the next time you wake up."

She ran her thumb over his hand, probably trying to calm him down at least a little bit. "I don't know what happened between you two, but he... was really worried about you, you know? I'm guessing it'll take a long time for you two to resolve this conflict, whatever it may be. I will not force you to communicate with him or forgive him... This is your business. And I will try to respect your choices, whatever they may be. But... just know that he's very concerned for you. It's obvious that he cares for you deeply and sincerely. Just... think about it, okay?"

Natasha tried to put on a soft smile in an attempt to reassure him.

"If you're not ready today, there's nothing to worry about, I promise. You just woke up... You've learned a lot. If meeting him now is too much for you, then that's perfectly fine. I won't force you. We can just sit here and relax. What do you say?"

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

His gaze narrowed. "H-He's worried? He can't be. This... This is a lie. He's lying to you, Natasha. He will deceive you and hurt you. He is a liar and a traitor! He is a bad person, the worst kind."

Ray involuntary shuddered at the thought. Luciel... He couldn't do anything good. Even the mere fact of him knowing where he was staying was terrifying to think about. It seems that he was afraid of the redhead even more than of this horrid place. He could harm him or Natasha. He could do anything! And he doesn't even have the strength to defend himself.

She let out a soft sigh as she pressed her lips together tightly with a slight frown making its way onto her face again. Still, she did not object to him as she did before, which surprised him quite a bit.

"Okay, then today you'll just rest, how about that? I won't force you, especially on your first day after... everything. You deserve to relax." She quickly replaced her frown with a small but sincere smile as she reassuringly squeezed his hand in her own. "So, don't worry. But... I'm sorry, I think he'll see you anyway. Don't get me wrong, I know exactly how you feel about... him."

He could see her leg moving up and down as she tapped her foot in a quick rhythm, an obvious giveaway of her true nervousness, in spite of her strong front.

"But... You haven't seen the state he was in throughout these last 3 days. I did. Trust me when I say that even the best of actors can't play their part that well. I don't know what happened between you, and I'm not trying to excuse him when I don't even know the situation, but the fact that he cares about you is undeniable. But, I understand if you can't accept that. After all... You really haven't seen him during all this time. It's just... I don't think you can avoid him." She shifted awkwardly in her seat. "He really wants to see you... He didn't say anything bad to me... He just mourned the way people do when they've lost or nearly lost a loved one. You can't act that convincingly."

A deep scowl replaced all other signs of his worry as he pressed his head to his chest as if he was trying to physically get away from this clearly unpleasant conversation.

"Nothing will come out of it no matter what he wants... But I still ask you to please be careful around him. I know how he may seem to you, but he doesn't care about anyone around him. He only cares for himself and he can take advantage of your kindness. I know you have a gentle heart... I don't want you to get hurt because of him. Not you."

He avoided her gaze, but still squeezed her hand a little tighter in his grasp, serving as a silent reminder that he was okay with her being here and that his anger was not directed at her. "I... want to protect you, please trust me, Natasha."

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

She hummed, confused by some of his words, but decided to give a tentative nod anyway, carefully placing her other hand over his palm.

"Okay, Ray."

She gave him a soft smile, trying to relax him once again. "I'll be careful around him, I promise. Thank you for caring about me."

This was... a new approach to him. Back then, in the hideout, she only ever said exactly what was on her mind, and, as a result, felt disappointed whenever he seemed to refuse to see any reason in her words, no matter how hard she tried, instead only continuing to talk about their eternal paradise and Mint Eye's twisted ideology. Perhaps... If she is to choose a softer approach this time... If she'll be more understanding and sensitive to his needs, everything will be better. Instead of insisting on her own point of view, she will instead focus on the fact that he cares about her, despite their disagreements. She... wanted to believe that this would help their already more than complicated situation.

Still, they cared for one another, and it's best to focus on that for now. He was her closest friend... even if he wronged her in one way or another, she knew that she didn't want to leave him. They'll make it work. Somehow.

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

He hesitantly turned his gaze to her once more.

"I... I don't know..."

If he was being honest, he did not want to see him whatsoever, no matter what she said.

"I-I don't want him to touch me... And I don't want him to come too close either. I don't know why he wants to see me and I don't understand it. He... he just left years ago, he broke all his promises and... He left. He said that he would never leave me and just disappeared at the first opportunity to do so. I don’t want to see him next to me anymore, I just want him to disappear from my life forever. " He winced at the memory. Even after all this time has long passed, it was still so painful to remember, and just the thought of what he had to go through made him shake with frustration as bitter tears filled his eyes. Luciel is what he associated with the agonizing pain of betrayal, that horrible moment when he would stop being useful. Although he's an adult, that same frightened child still lives within him, a child that is trying desperately to just survive to see another day, and this heavy feeling of powerlessness is so horribly familiar to him, that it made it hard to breathe.

"I would have died there if it wasn't for my Savior... He knew it, and he didn't care about me anyway! What difference does it make to him now? In all this time, he has never once been interested in me."

Ray buried his nose into the pillow as if he was trying to hide, like a total coward. If he was being honest, he did not even know if he had the strength to continue this conversation right now. These news about the redhead alone had exhausted him enough. No... All of these emotions were draining. Fear, anger, guilt, confusion. It's too much for his fragile condition, both physically and mentally. He used to struggle with falling asleep but now he felt completely helpless against the pull of it. Ray sighed softly, slowly closing his eyes and whimpering under his breath as he felt the world around him blur and fade into darkness.

The lights have started to fade out.

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂

Natasha exhaled, realizing that he was already at his limit. Well... There was no point to keep on trying to pressure him to talk about things he clearly didn't want to talk about, not to mention the fact that it's clearly a sensitive topic for him... That would simply be unfair to him.

The former assistant smiled faintly as she reached out with her other hand and gently stroked his head in an attempt to soothe his worries, at least a tiny bit.

"Okay... I can see that you're tired, don't worry. We'll have plenty of time to discuss the rest. Just relax. I'll be right here when you wake up, promise." She rested her head on the sheets, quietly watching him and continuing to gently stroke his hair like she always did whenever he felt anxious, occasionally running her thumb over the back of his hand that was still resting securely in her other palm.

Well... Something quite tragic definitely happened between these two brothers. But, this is also clearly a deeply personal conflict, which is why she did not want to get involved in it. She didn't deserve to dictate what was right and what was wrong on such a delicate subject. Ugh... Her head started to hurt again from all these complicated thoughts. And she still knows practically nothing useful that she could possibly relay to Luciel that was counting on her. What Ray just said only created more questions rather than answers.

Seven is one thing, but she had no idea how Ray will handle his future interactions with his doctors, which is quite concerning, considering that he will have to see them often with his condition. This whole situation is just a big mess from all around.

After making sure that he fell asleep, Natasha finally got up from her seat and, with an exhausted sigh falling from her lips, left the room, letting the lights fade out completely with one quick flip of a switch.

Still, once she looked back one last time, she could see soft lights from the street lamps painting beautiful patterns on the bleak walls of the ward. Against the exhaustion laying heavy on her shoulders, she found herself smiling faintly at the sight.

Maybe... There's still hope for her to make things right.

#rfaholiday2022 #mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #saeran choi #ray choi #vae ray #vae saeran #vae ray x mc #oc natasha stakh #also there's a lot of pov changes but i kinda just decided to go along with it lol

[entomycetic]

Been seein a lot of salmon run tips being thrown around here, so here's my two cents (as a profreshional part timer to 2+) of what's really helped to keep in mind:

Keep your priorities straight when it comes to the boss salmonids

The super long range bosses like flyfish, stinger, and drizzler should be taken care of ASAP! More than one and you're askin for trouble

Then you got the big boys- steelhead, steel eel, and big shot. While not as destructive to your team and environment, they take up enough space and do enough damage to be a problem if stacked.

The scrapper, flipper flopper, and maws will come to you, so deal with them as they arrive. A gang of scrappers can get real annoying though

The fish stick and slammin lid are pretty low in priority imo? Unless theyre preventing efficient mobility, don't worry about these guys if you got way more on your hands. With that said,

Some tricks for the individual bosses

Slammin Lid: With the proper setup, you can annihilate 3-4+ bosses with a single slammin lid- don't get greedy though, just take what you can get. Don't forget that you can squid surge to get out of the way when dropping it down!

Fish stick: The pole can be a great place to hide if you're targeted by bosses like steel eel or scrapper. Other bosses are still able to reach you depending on the placement though- like a high enough steelhead bomb or a really determined maws

Maws: Don't waste your ink- bomb go boom! Since it's mobile, try to bring it closer to the net first for easy transport

Flipper Flopper: If you have a low inkage weapon, bait it over to a teammate if you can! Unless you're certain you can cover its turf, you're better off saving that ink for other enemies

Scrapper: If you're first to shoot it/it pauses to aim at you, try to turn it so its back faces any nearby teammates, or at least away from where the salmonid are coming from. Easier to take down like that! And again- it's mobile, let it transport the eggs to the basket for you

Big Shot: This guy sucks idk honestly. It was my first instinct to throw bombs at it, but if your timing sucks like mine does then you'll just waste more ink and end up dead faster since you're near the shore- just shoot it as long as possible while its outta the water then scram, rinse and repeat

Steel Eel: if you're targeted, LEAD IT AWAY. STOP TAKING IT THROUGH SPAWN. Ik its mobile and yea it can drop eggs closer but if everyones getting hosed down and cut off then whats the POINT. This is one of the best times to tell your teammates to come to you! If you can take it out on your own by jumping between paths, even better. If someone else is targeted, try to take it out asap so they can get back to helping the team too!

Steelhead: unless you can lead them to a place where youre near level with their head, short range weapons are nigh useless on these guys. If you can, i sometimes find it helpful to bodyguard the long range weapons while they focus on taking em out!

Drizzler: Ok I said I suck at timing bombs for the big shots but the drizzler i can actually get right for some reason. So uh. If you can! Bomb that bitch! You can also hit them from underneath while they're in the air

Stinger: it takes very little ink to wack a pot from under these guys so don't bother wasting a whole tank on em. Take great pride in knowing you kept your team safe from their bullshit

Flyfish: ive lost count of the times ive seen 2-4 people throw all their bombs in the same bucket. Take a second to watch and avoid this very silly and costly mistake. Blease. Also EXPLOSHER EXPLODES THEM LIKE A BOMB TOO wtf didnt know that

Anyway about the special bosses/waves

Grillers: literally theyre so easy to herd with enough practice. Get targeted. Walk up a platform with only one ramp up. Take a step down to the platform below/beside it. Step back up platform. Repeat and squish smallfry until your teammates splat them. There might be a few high enough walls for you to camp that the grillers cant reach? Havent confirmed that

Glowflies: GO TO THE LONGEST CHOKEPOINT. Any long enough ramp will do. And do NOT leave!! If anyone leaves then reviving and regrouping becomes a nightmare and at that point you hope and pray you don't all get splatted at the same time. Where's that post going around about Fission. Go There

Goldie: talking specifically about the gusher rounds- SLAP AS MANY OF THOSE OPEN AS POSSIBLE. do NOT rely on rng it WILL laugh in your face as you run out of time needing just one more egg

Mothership: next best time to use 'this way' is when that shit is heading for the basket. Inkjet and long range are great for getting some damage on it before it makes contact; also when i play long range, 80% of my time is spent cracking open the containers for eggs, works when i play it!

Cohock cannon: typically it helps to let the lower dps take the cannons and have the high dps charge through the cohocks, so they dont get stuck in a corner as easily. Cannons also work on bosses of course! When on cannon i try to time my ink refill when the other cannon is active, so theres never a time without someone firing

Cohozuna: THE BIG BOY IS HERE. Hey fun fact, the egg canon can obliterate a boss in one good hit! You pay egg for even more egg! Of course dont JUST splat the bosses, you have a king to overthrow. Also if the cohozuna is targeting you, try to swim inland and strafe while your teammates are close to the shore and getting rid of bosses; stay close but not THAT close. Also don't worry too much about splatting them!! The scale rewards are so fucking random it really doesn't matter; the only golden scales i got were from 'defeated' xtra waves lol

Also!

Don't be greedy unless youre responsibly confident and not just smug that a round went so well! If you hit your goal, Not Dying is your new top priority! Same with eggs- everyone wants the big number at the end of a game, but if you think about that too much and get greedy, its not gonna go well! This is co-op, don't listen to the numbers!! Communicate!! And!!! Have fun :]

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #salmon run #this is just from my experience im sure theres plenty more higher quality stuff out there to learn #booyah BACK DAMMIT #i just wanted to talk abt salmonids honestly lol #really almost put 'profreshional pp' at the beginning there. #also idk if the readmore thing works :( sorry if it didnt