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lazyjellyfish300 · 2 months

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The Woman He Didn't Choose part 2🥀

AU Bachelor!Miguel O'Hara x Fem contestant Reader

Synopsis: the aftermath of the show as you and Miguel move on(sort of). The first part is mostly from his POV then transitions into your experience on the spinoff show- Singles in Paradise where you have a second shot at finding love. Word count: 6k

A/N: Sorry to any Xina fans, I made her OOC and quite mean in this one. I haven't read the comics but from what I've heard of her and seen so far she's one of the canon love interests I like the most. (Even tho I shamelessly self ship with Miguel lolol bc as far as I know ATSV Miguel is separate from comic Miguel Soo until we hear otherwise I'm gonna be delulu.)

Also, I am sorry if any of the couple pairings in this part bother you, it's purely for the purpose of the plot since we're supposed to be on another dating show and I am too lazy to create a bunch of OCs. If you're unfamiliar with the show Bachelor in Paradise, here's a clip to give you an idea. Basically, it's another dating show usually in a tropical location where single people couple up, and new arrivals come in every so often and ask people on dates to shake things up, leading to drama and chaos, and couples can choose to stay together or break up in the end and there's typically an engagement. DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO RIGHTS TO THE SHOWS THE BACHELOR OR BACHELOR IN PARADISE, ALL RIGHTS TO THE OWNERS. I CHANGED THE NAME OF THE SHOW IN THE STORY.

TW: MINORS DNI, ANGST, RACIAL MICROAGGRESSIONS ABOUT ESL AND FAMILY STRUCTURE(IF THAT'S SENSITIVE FOR YOU PLEASE SKIP ❤️) EMOTIONAL ABUSE, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, ALCOHOL ,DOWNPLAYING MENTAL HEALTH STRUGGLES, LITTLE BIT OF EMOTIONAL CHEATING ON MIGUEL'S PART, STRUGGLES WITH RELIGION AND FAITH, MENTION BULLYING AND FAMILY STRUGGLES, BREAK-UP, FANTASIZING, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, CLASSISM, MODERATE SMUT(P IN V BUT IT'S ONLY MENTIONED NOT FULLY DETAILED, THESE ONES ARE DETAILED: DRY HUMPING, HEAVY MAKING OUT, AND FINGERING. ALSO, VOYEURISM-ISH)

(couple pairings are Ben Reilly and Felicia Hardy, Jessica Drew and Noir, George Stacey and MJ, Xina Kwan and Miguel O'Hara, not saying anything else bc spoilers)

Part 1 , Part 3

@miguelhugger2099, @kodo1221,@mimiemie, @laysmt, @cheerrioeoz , @spicydonut25 , @thisistotesnotspam-heart , @thekidscallmebosss , @librababe99 , @ce3stvu @irishbl0ss0mz @nommingonfood , @mauvecherie-writes , @royale-skeleton-key , @famouscattale

I'm so sorry if I forgot you in the tags , just lmk

------

"Miguel!"

Miguel looks up abruptly from a spot on the floor he was zoning out on to look at Xina's slightly annoyed expression. "Hydrangeas or peonies for the guest tables, babe?" she repeats, standing next to the sample table where the wedding planner and florist awaited with anxious eyes.

Miguel blinks rapidly. "It doesn't matter to me, baby...um...." he points to the peony arrangement. "That one."

Xina huffs and turns to look at the planner and florist. "We'll do the hydrangeas."

Miguel smirks and puts his hands in his pockets. "Now, why would you ask me my opinion if you're going to just pick the one you wanted?"

Xina's annoyed look softens subtly but she shakes her head. "It's mostly the bride's day, you know. You're just supposed to show up."

Miguel smiles. "Well, I guess you don't need me to come to the wedding planning dinner tonight? Since you seem to have it all handled?"

Xina groans. "Miguel! You said you'd be there! Have you even read through Exodus like I asked you to?"

Miguel feels his cheeks burn. "Shit...um, no..."

Xina shoots a glare at the wedding planner and the florist and makes a shooing motion with her hand. They both put their heads down and quickly leave the room, giving them privacy. Miguel adjusts his tie, a little bit thrown off by her dismissive actions towards the staff.

Xina sits down at the table and pours herself a glass of ice water. She takes a long sip and sighs, looking at Miguel. "Babe...," she says in a low voice. "You know that getting married in the church is a top priority for me. You know what it means to me..."

Miguel's eyebrows knit together with worry. "I know it is..." he rapidly crosses the room to join her and kneels in front of her, hands on her thighs. She squirms away from him a little and purses her lips, looking down.

"Promise me you'll catch up on your Bible reading by next week and set up an appointment with the missionaries?"

Miguel hesitates for just a fraction of a second in his mind but he answers her, almost a little too quickly, "Of course I will."

Xina manages to give him a little smile, fiddling with the top button on his shirt. "Love you..."

"Love you too."

---

Later that evening, Xina and Miguel are sitting next to each other at a large, circular, oak table across from her parents, eating dinner in their mansion of a home.

Xina's mother makes a face when she takes a bite of the salmon.

"Something wrong with it, hun?" Xina's father asks, dishing himself some potatoes.

Xina's mother spits the bite into a napkin. "Rex!" She barks. An older, balding man with a kind face and chef's uniform enters the dining room. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Salmon's not up to par, I'm afraid." She pushes the dish towards the puzzled chef.

"M' sorry ma'am. Can I make you anything else you'd like instea-"

She cuts him off. "No, my appetite's ruined. That's all, Rex."

The chef looks down in shame at the dish he worked hard on, picking it up with shaky hands and shuffling quickly out of the dining room.

Miguel tightens his grip on his fork and shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He had not seen this side of Xina's parents. But, it was only their third time meeting, so he did his best to concentrate on who he was really there for, Xina. He took another bite of his roast beef.

Once the old man was out of earshot, Xina's mother tuts her teeth. "Sorry, he's insufferable... I don't know what we'll do with him.... is your roast beef even edible, dear?" She asks Miguel.

Miguel inhales slowly, trying to stifle his outrage on the chef's behalf but Xina's father cuts in.

"So, Miguel," Xina's father says, breaking the silence. "Your folks are planning on driving down on the... 25th, right? For the rehearsal dinner?"

Miguel nods, blotting his lips with a cloth napkin. "Yes, sir."

"Remind me who's coming?" He asks, pouring a generous helping of gravy on his potatoes.

Miguel clears his throat. "My younger brother, Gabe, and my mother-"

"Right, your father's not in your life." Xina's father says, waving his fork.

Miguel's lips fall open and he blinks in disbelief at the abruptness of his statement. I mean, he wasn't lying, per se. Miguel took a sip of his wine, trying to chalk it up to just him not choosing his words carefully, that's all.

"Right, he's not..." Miguel says, straightening in his chair.

Xina's mother pipes up, "You know, that's really such an inspiration on your part. Most people like you with your background end up on the streets, or worse."

Miguel abruptly stops cutting his meat, first looking at Xina's mother, who sat with a smile on her face looking at him, to her husband, who was too occupied with his potatoes to even care, to Xina who was just looking at her lap, clearly a little embarrassed at her comment, but stayed silent.

It got worse. She continues, "... wouldn't even guess that English isn't your first language. You're so well spoken for someone like you."

At that point, Miguel is so uncomfortable that he stands up abruptly, removing his napkin from his lap and setting it next to his wine glass.

"...if you'll excuse me..." he briskly walks out, making sure to close the front door a little extra loudly than he normally would.

Miguel paces in the driveway, taking deep breaths. He exhales a little bit when he sees Xina, but he's met with a different reaction than he was expecting.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hisses, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her stomach.

Miguel's face contorts in confusion, "Babe..that comment your mom made-"

"It's just how she is, Miguel!" Xina says, her annoyance starting to make itself apparent as her face comes into view.

Miguel is now even more confused.

"Just come back inside, please?" Xina looks around, hoping none of the neighbors were witnessing their spat.

Miguel takes a step back, his face hurt. "Xi...what's got into you...?"

"Look, I'm sorry that she said it, okay? But that's just how she is. She doesn't have a filter. Old people are just like that. Now she's upset because you stormed out."

Miguel becomes angry now. "Babe. I understand your parents are from a different generation and your mom has a certain way of... communicating." He sighs. "But what she said was kind of racist. I felt extremely uncomfortable."

Xina looks up at the sky in utter aggravation, "Okay! Fine! You're right! It was totally racist, okay? Happy? I'll talk to her about it later, but I really don't wanna fight anymore about this. We're supposed to walk down the aisle in three and a half weeks. They're just stressed because they're not only hosting my family, they're hosting yours too. I'm stressed, you're stressed. We all are..."

Miguel takes a deep breath. Now he's second guessing himself and his feelings. Did he overreact? The last thing he wanted was for them to dislike him. They were his future in-laws after all. Even though Miguel is hurt she won't defend him and is downplaying his feelings, he decides to shove them aside for her sake. Miguel looks down at her, taking her waist in his hands. She flinches a little and tries to pull back at first, but remains where she's standing when he holds her a little tighter.

"I'm sorry...okay? I'm sorry for being an ass..." Miguel can't help but feel a little odd that he's the one apologizing, but he continues. "Let's go back inside, yeah? Maybe we can go on a date this Friday, just to get away from all this wedding planning stuff."

Xina gives him a half smile and takes his hand in hers. "Deal..."

----

Later that night as Miguel showered in his shared apartment with Xina, he kept replaying their fight over and over again. He didn't know what it was, but lately, Xina was showing a very different side of herself. One that was completely the opposite of the soft spoken sweetheart he fell in love with when the cameras were rolling

He knew that she was religious when he proposed, but had the impression she was more of an Easter and Christmas-only attendee. Her devoutness amped up shortly after their engagement. Her pressure for him accept Jesus and get baptized so they could be married in her church started making him realize he bit off a little more than he could chew.

He felt a phony when she'd ask him to pray over meals and when he'd be called on to read a passage in Sunday School, like he wasn't supposed to be there. His scientific-inclined brain clashed with the idea of a magical being in the sky who would send him to Hell if he touched himself.

Furthermore, Xina demonstrated that she could be quite insensitive to his feelings, and he couldn't unsee the way his future in-laws poorly treated their chef in front of him, and the casual microaggressions they were throwing out about him and his family.

His whole childhood, he was bullied for his accent and for being one of the kids who would get pulled out of class for extra tutoring because he was so far behind everyone else. He was used to being doubted and constantly faced taunts from his classmates and teachers. Conchata was generally the better parent compared to George, but unfortunately that wasn't saying much.

She put immense pressure on Miguel to do well and excel in everything, constantly shifting the goalposts for the near impossible standards she expected him to reach.

But, he worked his ass off and eventually started reading two grade levels above his current grade and took home placing trophies in Math and Science olympiads. It wasn't long before Ivy League schools set their sights on him, and he went on to be the successful geneticist he was today, even buying Conchata a new house despite their volatile relationship.

Throughout it all, he never felt ashamed of where he came from, or his heritage. Nevertheless, it was something he was still was VERY sensitive about and he told Xina about it many times which is why it stung when she couldn't defend him. He even told you about it.

Oh God....you. This was the first time in a while that he finally allowed his mind to dwell on you for longer than a minute. He remembered how receptive you were when he told you. For once, he didn't hear a, "well at least you have it better than most", or a "cheer up, it's not so bad," when he explained his life story. Instead, you listened carefully with a soft look in your eyes and one of your hands resting on top of his, letting him know that the way he felt was completely valid. Something he didn't realize could be so healing when he heard you say that in that moment.

On top of that, your family was so...kind. Your mom even went out of her way to whip up an extra loaf of banana bread just for him when she caught wind that it was his favorite. Your siblings treated him like he was just another member of the family and it was a little unreal how seamlessly he got along with all of them. And, he distinctly remembered how gracious every single one of them were to the restaurant staff when you all went to lunch, with no awkward, demeaning energy like Xina's parents unfortunately demonstrated at dinner tonight. The cameras must have kept them on their best behavior until their true selves could come out once they turned off.

He's about to do something he knows he shouldn't, but he can't resist. He unblocks you on Instagram. (He has only one post on his own account and it's from when he was announced as The Eligible Suitor, the show forced him to create one for publicity's sake, he actually loathes social media in all forms).

And there you were, smiling with your friends at brunch. Another one of you showing off your new dog you rescued from the shelter named Hamilton, and your gorgeous headshot of you in a swimming suit for your debut on Singles in Paradise, where you and other rejected candidates from the show were all going to go at it in a fancy beach resort in Mexico.

Man, you looked good, curves on full display. The smile that he fell in love with was spread across your lovely face. The same one he was responsible for erasing when he broke your heart with less than 10 words on a tranquil beach in Thailand months earlier.

Now, you seemed happier. Trying to carry on with life as though he was never there. Like he didn't haunt your dreams and the sound of his name didn't cause the sting of a thousand burns to scorch through your body. Like you were never the first girl he ever spilled his cum into during that sexy night in the Fairytale Suites, remnants of him imprinted somewhere deep inside you.

Xina climbs into bed next to him and he closes out of Instagram immediately, ashamed that he let his mind wander. Her hand wanders down to his cock and it's not long until he's pounding into her. His mind struggles desperately to fight off the memory of the way your lips parted in ecstasy the whole time she's underneath him.

-----

A few days later

"What the fuck, Miguel?!" Xina screams at him over the phone. Miguel holds the phone away from his ear for a moment, the sound too harsh against his eardrum. She was upset at him this time for his interview on a morning talk show, promoting their upcoming wedding which was supposed to be aired live as the show's long awaited special before Singles in Paradise made its debut.

The host smiled and leaned on her elbow.

"Now, Miguel. Eligible Suitor's number one fan blog is releasing rumors that you only chose Xina because she was the safer option compared to y/n, the season's edgier "bad girl". Is there some truth to that statement, or can you elaborate on that?

Miguel nods slowly, a little bit of panic settling in on the inside, wondering how the hell the fan pages were eerily accurate, despite him not giving away any hints about his internal struggles regarding his engagement to the press that he was aware of.

"Well, as the man chosen to be the Eligible Suitor, there are certain expectations for me and who I ultimately end up with...Xina fit in well with my family. She had all the qualities of the ideal partner. Overall, it just seemed to be a better match..."

"But you're making it sound like if say, y/n for example had all of that, would you have picked her instead?"

Miguel hesitates, turning a little red. He wasn't good at lying. "Well, I mean..."

Awkward silence that lasts a little too long.

He quickly tries to recover but he ends up making it worse, "I mean, what's done is done. There's not really a point in wondering about that, you know....? We-we're very excited for the wedding..."

It wasn't longer than a minute after the show cut to commercial that his phone was ringing off the hook.

"Tell me right now that you love me, and not her, or I swear to God, Miguel I will call off this whole thing!" She says through tears.

Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Now he really felt like a jerk.

"I do love you baby..."

Xina is still distraught and doesn't seem to want to listen. "After everything we've been through. I've supported you. I got along with your mom, I got an apartment with you. I even supported you through all that mental health bullshit of yours and you still can't even defend me on live television and say you love me more than that broke piece of trash!"

Miguel freezes. "Hold on, mental health bullshit....?" Miguel really hopes that he didn't just hear what he thought he heard. He does his best to keep his anger at bay but he can feel it rising anyway. "So, all of the internal struggles I trusted you enough to tell you about....my depression which is something that will ALWAYS be a part of me, Xina...you think it's bullshit?"

Xina sputters, "Miguel, no, I didn't mean it like that. It's just...ugh you are just so hard to deal with sometimes, you know? I totally understand and respect the fact that you're going through a lot right now, but so am I. And I can't sit here and coddle you through everything if you don't get help."

Miguel's world comes shattering down. His worst fear that started to creep into the back of his mind ever since about 2 weeks after he proposed to Xina had just been confirmed to be true: she was not at all the woman he thought she was. It was merely an act for the show, and, with the help of the producers and audience, they pushed him towards her simply because she was the woman they wanted to see him with, when his heart truly lied with you the whole time.

And now, you were on a beach in Mexico probably getting courted by all sorts of men who could give you way more than Miguel ever could, while he was left to contend with a broken heart and a cancelled wedding.

He says in a shaky voice. "I was getting help...I told you I started therapy. I trusted you with THE most sensitive parts of me, Xina. And you threw it in my face. By the way, why do you say y/n is broke trash, as you put it, huh?"

"Miguel, stop putting words in my mouth..."

"Nononono...you LITERALLY said it, Xi. Don't start with your gaslighting bullshit on me!" Miguel is raising his voice now. "You called her broke trash. Let me guess: you shoo away our wedding planners, your parents treat your chef like complete shit. She has less money and prospects than you, therefore she's just trash, right? Well, I came from hardly anything, too. Does that make me trash? Huh?"

There's only silence on the other line, then she says, "Miguel, you're different..."

"No. No, Xina. You're different. You're not who I thought you were, and I think we shouldn't be marrying each other." Hot tears spill down Miguel's face and he hangs up his phone. He presses his back against the wall, sliding down until he hides his face in his hands, sobbing on the floor.

--------

A few weeks later at a beach bungalow resort in Mexico

"Welcome back to another season of: Singles in Paradise, I'm your host, Jason Donner and boy is it good to be back!" Jason beams, flashing his pearly whites at the camera.

You hear your cue and you walk out, clad in a white bikini with a pretty purple coverup wrapped around your midriff with the knot resting on your hip, emphasizing the curve, a certain post-break up glow about you that immediately made you hard to resist, a confident twinkle in your eye. You greet Jason with a hug and he holds your hands in his.

"Great to see you. Feelin' nervous?"

You flash a lovely smile at him, playing it up for the cameras. "Just a little bit. But I'm more so excited than nervous."

Jason's lips curve into a smirk. "Anyone down there on that beach you're hoping to run into?"

Miguel.

No, you hadn't really thought about it. Noir was pretty cute. You throw his name out there. "I hope Noir is down there..."

Jason nods, giving your shoulder a good luck squeeze. "Well, go on down there and see for yourself. Good luck! And welcome to paradise once again."

"Thanks, Jas!" You play it up, giving him a little flirty wink as you walk down the stone path and disappear into some trees, making your way to the beach. Necks turn slowly and you feel your heart pound as several pairs of eyes land on you.

Felicia Hardy is standing at the beach side resort bar waiting on her piña colada with a bad case of RBF. But, her snowy eyes melt into an enthusiastic expression when she sees you.

"Noooo way!!! Oh my GOD, you're even hotter in person! Girl! What!!"

You beam, flattered as she pulls you into a hug. Her long, platinum blonde hair hangs loose from a claw clip with the ponytail flowing in waves that brush against her back, a few stray wisps framing her face. She's wearing a dark blue tube top dress which is doing her figure all types of favors, accentuating her goddess-like pear shape. And, she smells totally divine of coconut body spray, evidence of sunbathing apparent in her sunkissed cheeks and tan lines.

"Holy shit, where'd you get your outfit?" She asks, giving her piña colada a sip, shamelessly eyeing you up from head to toe.

You smile, giving her a little twirl. "Girl, $20 at Marshall's for the whole thing. I swear to God."

"No way! Oh my God, I love that place!" Felicia smiles. "I gotta say I'm a huge fan of you. Dude, that pissed me off so fucking bad when Miguel fucked you over like that."

You smile back at her, flattered. You can tell that you definitely want to have Felicia be your beach bestie throughout this whole process. She had been the Eligible Suitorette about 2 seasons ago. Her tenure was one that went down in the show's history, the way she didn't take any shit, and had so many guys falling all over her. But, unfortunately her engagement to Flash Thompson went down in flames when his dumb ass eventually got caught cheating, making fans of the show rally around her even more.

"So, I guess I should give you the low down on who's coupled up with who so far?" She asks.

You nod, familiar with this part of the game. "Yes, please. Oh my God, tell me everything."

You two go sit down on a pair of beach chairs, turning them so your knees are touching each other, leaning in close together for your woman to woman huddle, the cameras zooming in on you both.

"Okay, so first of all, I'm with Ben." She gleams, biting her lip. You follow her gaze and see Ben shirtless, playing volleyball with some of the other men, his baby blues are locked right back on Felicia with his angelic, pretty boy face. He nods and gives you a polite wave hello.

"Girrrrrrllllll...." You smile, turning back to her. "Good for you, honestly, he is SO damn fine, respectfully of course."

Felicia throws her head back and waves you off with a laugh. "Girl, thank you. No worries at all. Yeah, he's uh, he's something else alright." She bites her lip again and looks down. "He treats me so good. It's going really well..."

You give her a warm look, the unmistakable signs of falling head over heels quite recognizable all over her demeanor and the way she's talking about him.

Felicia resumes her report. "Noir is here, but he's got a thing for Jess."

You feel slightly disappointed to hear that but nod, encouraging her to continue.

"Peter B. is here, but it's been kinda awkward. MJ is here too."

"No fucking way?" You sit up, interested. "They really invited both of them here?"

Peter B. and MJ were considered royalty as far as the show goes, with Peter being one of the most beloved suitors of the show's history. However, that quickly became tainted with scandal with the volatile on-and-off nature of his and MJ's relationship. They got engaged at the end of his season, then they were "taking some time apart", then they reunited, but he was seen in the Barbados with some mysterious brunette, but she was also out and about with no engagement ring. BUT, they were spotted in Chicago holding hands and all over each other in a night club just a month ago

"Yeah girl, I have no fucking clue. They're clearly off at the moment , but you can totally tell it's bugging Peter. She's all over George right now."

"Girl noooo. George Stacy?!"

"George, fucking-Stacy, girlll."

George had troubling political opinions and was known for being quite a douche. BUT he was also well over 6 feet tall with ocean eyes, big arms, and money. Well, for you, personally, no way in hell you'd tolerate that.

"MJ hates me though." Felicia warns.

"Wait, why??"

"She thinks I "stole her man" even though Peter was literally throwing himself at me when they were on break number 394 or some shit." Felicia chuckles, shaking her head, stirring her piña colada which is now becoming a watery slush. She pauses for a moment then looks at you. "So, girl, tell me, who did you have your eyes on coming here?"

"Well..." You sigh, the options so far were not promising. "I did think Noir was cute, but he's already with Jess."

"You could still invite him on a date, technically." Felicia points out. "But, I understand. He does reallyyy seem to be into her right now. It would be hard to try and pull him at this point." She drums her fingers. "Girl! Go for Peter. Oh my God you guys would be so cute!"

You blush internally. Peter? You hadn't given him much thought. You turn around, searching for him. He's standing in the ocean a few feet away up to his ankles. He turns to the side a little, and the wind blows open his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt as he leans down to examine one of the seashells under his feet.

Oh God, he was handsome. 6'2, lean muscles peppered with dark hair that ran across his chest and belly button, and a shadow of stubble on his face gave him a rugged feel, but those chocolate puppy brown eyes made him look so innocent. One of his cheeks had a little dimple that would pop out when he made that signature little smirk of his.

"Fffuck...really, girl?" You murmur, your jaw practically still hanging open at the sight of him. "But I thought you two were a thing?"

Felicia smirks. "Hell no! I rejected him forever ago. You sooo like him! I can tell. Just do it!"

You take a shaky breath. "God...okay, fuck it. I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Good luck!" Felicia calls after you. "Come find me afterwards and tell me everything!!"

You nod and shoot her a smile as you walk away. You bite your lip, your stomach doing all sorts of flips and tricks as you approach Peter. He has sort of a hopeless look on his face as he watches George and MJ from afar cuddled up on their beach towels, George's rough hands rubbing sunscreen into her shoulders as he was practically eye-fucking her.

"Peter!" You call for him. Peter turns, confused at the sound of a woman's voice calling for him, but his pupils go wide when he locks eyes with you for the first time.

"H-Hey!" His lips part a little bit at the sight of your gorgeous hair and friendly smile. His eyes start to land on your figure but he quickly flicks them back upwards to look into yours, not wanting to look like a perv. God, he was so cute. He offers you one of his hands, his voice gentle. "I'm Peter B."

You introduce yourself and he repeats your name back to you. The way he says it is making you scream a little on the inside, his voice is soothing and low. And suddenly you want to know more, so much more about him. And with the way he's gazing down at you, he does too.

You two just stand there in the ocean, chatting as the wind rustles against you both. Soon, the sun is starting to dip further down in the sky and you feel a chill coming on. Peter notices the goosebumps on your arms and wraps his shirt around you, holding you under his arm as you both meander back to the beach.

You squeal when he swoops you into a bridal style carry, butterflies appear in his stomach when he feels your hair brush under his chin, and he's almost tempted to pull you in closer. No, he decides there's plenty of time for that later, if all of this continues to go as flawlessly as it is already. He sets you down on one of the poolside cabanas, spreading a blanket over your legs. You curl up under it, shooting him a smile of appreciation. He looks at you with adoring eyes at how cute you look curled up like that.

"Can I get you something to drink?" He asks gently, the tips of his fingers brushing against your thigh, sending a chill down your spine.

"Um, vodka cranberry, please." You say sweetly. Peter gives you his signature smirk, the little dimple in his cheek driving you wild. His fingers make full contact with your thigh this time, stealing the breath from your lungs.

"Coming right up..." he's off to get you your drink, leaving you internally screaming by the pool.

---

Jason is leaning against a palm tree, silently monitoring the scene of flirtatious couples below when a tall dark figure approaches him. The camera stays on Jason and captures the look of shock across his face.

"Well, well, WELL! Look who it is, great to see you man!"

The man's face isn't shown, and it appears his response is being muted off mic, Jason's voice is the only audible one, the camera focusing on his reactions with the mystery guest,

"Wow...I'm so sorry to hear that man...yeah, yeah she's here. And you're sure about this.....? Alright, well here's your date card, feel free to use it whenever you wish. Good luck down there man."

------

You and Peter are laughing together by the pool, the alcohol slowly starting to weave its way into your banter. The daybed you're sharing is just a smidge too small, forcing your thigh to touch his as you squish on it together, bodies laying side by side. When you ask him a question, you subtly push yours a little closer into his. Peter seems to notice your increasing touch, his train of thought stalling for just one minute, before he turns pink and apologizes. "Sorry, must be the alcohol," he mumbles cutely, looking sheepishly at you.

"Yeah, the alcohol..." you tease, your pointer finger traces his sternum. His breath hitches and he's looking at you with wet lips, his eyes come to rest on your breasts that are squished so deliciously together.

You're looking back at him too, letting your eyes rake over his body up and down, admiring how good he looks and how the faded blue lights from the pool are casting a sensual shadow over his form, wondering how it would look if it were in the darkness of your bedroom instead.

Peter clears his throat. The nervousness catching up to him, and he turns his head, gazing at the shimmering water. "Sorry..." he lets out a breathy chuckle, then turns back to you. "I haven't connected this quickly with someone ever since...well I mean, since my last relationship which ended badly..... As I'm sure you're well aware of thanks to the press."

You hum, your finger now tracing little circles on his shoulder, making him tremble slightly. "Yeah....I heard. I'm kind of in the same boat."

You take a deep sigh. God, just when you thought you were getting over him, Miguel pulls you right back in. Being with Peter right now feels foreign, strange. You can't put a finger on it. You notice that those decadent brown eyes are already fixed on you, and you stare back, your voice oozing a hint of desire as you softly tell him,

"But, I wouldn't mind if I...spent some more time getting to know you."

Peter exhales softly, you detect the sweetness of the liquor on his breath, the wetness that the rim of his glass left behind is shiny on his bottom lip, and all you want to do is taste.

Peter slowly smirks back, his fingers coming to pull under your chin, bringing your face closer to his.

"I wouldn't mind either..." lust codes his voice now. But, before he goes in to kiss you, his eyes soften a little bit as he drinks in your features. "You're very beautiful..."

You feel the heat rising in your body, you drape one of your legs around him, resting your knee on his hip. "Thank you..."

Peter lets out a soft groan, his hand immediately comes to grip your thigh, encouraging you to press your body against his, and he traps your lips in his with a fiery kiss.

The stubble from his face is a little scratchy, but you don't mind. His tongue is sweet from the wine he was drinking, and you can't get enough. His hands travel a little higher on your thighs and you gasp into his mouth as he pulls you on top of him so you're straddling him with one knee on either side of his waist.

"C'mere..." he purrs.

You lean in closer to him, pressing your forehead against his to try and make your moans more quiet as he grinds your pussy against the bulge in his swim trunks, the soft fabric of your bikini bottoms separating you. The friction is delicious and you reward him with a neverending chorus of his name.

"Peter...."

Peter gives a loud groan, his grip on your hips tightens, this time bucking his hips under your spread pussy, letting you ride the outline of his cock.

"Ffuck....Peter, baby...." you whine.

"Mmm yeah, baby?" Peter lands a sharp spank on your ass in response, making you curse under your breath again. "You like what I'm doing to you?"

"Yes baby, I love it." You bite your lip, closing your eyes. "What if someone sees us, baby?"

"Let em watch.." Peter moans.

"Oh God...don't stop, please." Your moans rise in pitch.

"Fffuck....." Peter breaths out, his hands coming up to grip your breasts while you ride him. "I won't baby...fuck..." The sensation causes him to close his eyes as well. "You feel too good to stop."

You lean over, your lips crashing greedily against his, both of your tongues dancing in each other's mouths, while you grind together. His hands can't get enough and he finally starts to curl two fingers inside your pussy which elicits a sharp cry of passion, Peter playfully shushing you as he kisses your nose.

-----

The rose Miguel is holding falls onto the sand below as he watches you and Peter heavily making out, now engaged in mild foreplay and you might as well start fucking at any moment now due to how hot and heavy the scene is.

It's almost a race with how quickly the jealousy, nausea, and rage rises in Miguel's body, filling him to the brim. He stands there, jaw and shoulders tense. His cock twitches a little at your whines but seethes at the sight of another man's hands all over you. He finally rips himself away, not able to withstand it any longer.

Noir and Jess look at him with raised eyebrows as he sits at the beachside bar after downing 3 shots of tequila back to back. He just sits there, eyes glazed over at the empty shot glasses in front of him for several moments until he leans forward, laying his head in his arms with his eyes closed.

----

To be continued...

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theladyofbloodshed · 6 months

Text

Happy Halloween!

‘Nes, picture this. Gates open at dusk. Nobody leaves until dawn. There’s a whole section of rides. A zombie maze. And a haunted house with three floors.’

Nesta wrinkled up her nose and slapped the brochure that Cassian had thrust under her nose away. ‘Why would I want to picture it when you have jammed it so close to my face that it is the only thing I can see?’

‘So, is that a yes?’

Cassian waited for her answer, an excited smile dominating his expression. Nesta hated Halloween. Hated anything to do with it. Hated motion activated skeletons that gave a warble when she walked by, hated the lurid orange colour that plastered every aisle, and absolutely despised the smell of rotting pumpkins. He knew it.

‘Yes, you may go. I will stay here with the lights off so nobody rings my doorbell.’

Cassian let out a snore. ‘You’re no fun.’

Horror movies were fine. Nothing particularly scared her about them. The acting was generally terrible, the effects even worse, and all of them put women through hell while they wore few clothes. It was the ridiculous hype weeks before that she hated. There was absolutely no need for it.

‘Go and play with Rhys or Azriel,’ she said, reaching around him for her book.

‘They are already coming. I have to buy the tickets and I’m going to look like an idiot if you don’t come along.’

Nesta snorted. ‘I have bad news, Cassian. You look like an idiot regardless of my presence.’

Cassian clutched his chest. ‘Ouch. Somebody hasn’t had their nap today.’

Maybe her words had been a little bit too harsh. For a few weeks now, she had been debating their relationship and the merits of continuing it. They had more bad days than good. Arguments were their common currency. The relationship was becoming stagnant. He made it difficult to visualise a future when he still had the mental age of a teenage boy and lived in Rhysand's basement. But Cassian was also kind and funny, willing to cut the heart from his chest for his family. It wasn’t fair to keep hurting his feelings when her mind swung one way. She knew they were close to breaking point, he did too.

‘Fine. Book the tickets.’

A kiss was pressed to her cheek. ‘You are the best.’

***

Halloween dawned on them. Nesta had begrudgingly agreed to wear a costume for their night time festivities. She’d have sworn that Cassian preferred Halloween over Christmas as he’d barely been able to contain his excitement in the run up to the holiday. Nesta had lost count of the amount of times she’d returned home from work to a prank that had her clenching her jaw shut or threatening to take back the key she had offered to him for her home.

‘It’s called trick or treat, Nes. You can’t just eat candy without the trick side.’

‘I pay for the candy, so I can do what I want,’ she snapped. ‘Save your pranks for April Fool’s Day. It’s named after you.’

Cassian gave a slight grimace then hurried towards the bedroom. It had been a long day at work and now she was expected to stay up all night at a ridiculous spooktacular, as they called it, which meant she’d be grumpy all weekend from a lack of sleep.

When Cassian returned, he was whistling a tune and carrying a red bucket filled with water that he tipped down the sink.

‘Was that meant to fall on my head?’

‘I’m pleading the fifth,’ he replied.

Nesta let out a low laugh. ‘Oh, I could have really decorated the place in the spirit of things if that had happened to me.’

‘If I ever turn up dead one day, you have made so many threats that you will be the prime suspect.’

They got ready at her place. She opted for Morticia Addams because it meant she only needed to purchase a crappy wig and wear a dress she rarely wore, rather than buy a plastic costume that was a fire hazard. His phone was buzzing constantly. She risked a glimpse at the screen and it was plastered with messages from Feyre, Mor, Rhys, and Azriel telling them to hurry up because they needed to go. Cassian was still in the bathroom. She’d heard him grunting and swearing in between his razor buzzing. He’d stayed quiet on his costume, telling her it would be a big secret.

When he finally did emerge, Nesta burst out laughing.

‘What the hell are you supposed to be?’

‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’

His face was bright red and caked in face paint. It was all over his hands and neck too. Cassian had even shaved off most of the scruff on his face, but left a soul patch in its stead.

‘You look like a fucking tomato!’

Trying to hold onto his dignity, Cassian added a pair of plastic red horns to his head and picked up a pitchfork.

‘I’m the devil,’ he said in a tone that sounded as if he’d like the earth to split under his feet so hell could call him home. ‘I saw a tutorial, but it seems I lack the skills with face paint and liquid latex to do it justice.’

Nesta couldn’t muster a reply. He looked hilarious. It was only when she scanned his body that she took in the tight-fitting, red Lycra outfit which wouldn’t be out of place in an eighties fitness video - and the knee high black boots over it.

‘Are you the devil from The Powerpuff Girls or what?’

He let out a long groan as his phone continued to buzz with notifications.

‘Go and wash it off. Please. I am begging you.’

‘I tried! It has stained my skin bright red so I look like I’m having an allergic reaction. It’s better if it stays on.’

‘Really?’ Nesta threw up her hands. ‘We will be late. It’s dark. Nobody will notice how bad it looks.’

They hurried down the road where the rest of their group was waiting for them by Rhys’ car. Azriel, the designated driver because he never needed sleep, honked the horn in greeting. Rhys and Feyre had matched their outfits as Harley Quinn and the Joker. Mor had dressed as some sort of sexy red riding hood in a gingham dress that skimmed her thighs matched with knee high socks and a red hood.

Feyre let out a horrified shriek of laughter. ‘What the fuck are you, Cass?’

He turned to Nesta, eyes pleading. ‘You said they wouldn’t notice in the dark.’

‘You are glowing red,’ remarked Rhys. ‘Even the man in the moon can see you.’

In a bad mood, Cassian clambered into the back of the car. It lowered beneath his weight. Nesta had to press her lips together to stop her laughter from making the situation worse. She wasn’t able to make eye contact with Feyre or that would set her off.

‘I’ll try and talk to him,’ said Mor as they began to file into the car.

It left Nesta riding shotgun with Azriel. She scanned him for some sort of clue to his costume, but in the end, she needed to ask.

‘An axe murderer,’ he replied, pulling a plastic axe from his coat. ‘They look like everybody else.’

‘Good choice.’

The key turned in the ignition and he grumbled, ‘I hate Halloween.’

***

If one more dumbass jumped out at Nesta in the queue, she would punch them. She didn’t care if it was their job to scare guests. Anybody who got paid to shout boo needed a better job.

‘Is it too late to turn back?’

Azriel drawled out a laugh. ‘I don’t think Cass will ever forgive us if we leave.’

Her overgrown boyfriend was alight with anticipation. He didn’t need to crane his neck to look towards the start of the queue as he was gigantic, but he still lamented that they’re arrived too late. There were so many better costumes he could have gone for. The iron giant. Frankenstein’s monster. Mothman. Not a tomato with an outfit so tight that everybody could see his dick print.

A bored, middle-aged woman sat at the ticket booth. She scanned their tickets with as much zeal as one of the undead then they were in the grounds of the Spooktacular. What a stupid name.

As if preparing for battle, Cassian drew them into a circle and held the map of park out in the centre. A finger pointed to where they currently were. ‘Everybody is flocking in here. The rides will be busy now, and most of the night, so it doesn’t matter when we go on them. There will be time, before you ask, Morrigan. The haunted house is only accessible via the maze. It’s meant to be shit-your-pants scary, but only for those brave enough to make it through the zombie maze.’

‘Cass, you know it’s not real, right?’

He held up a hand in Rhys’ face, ignoring his question. ‘We need to get to the other side of the park, tackle the maze, do the haunted house while it’s not too busy to get the full experience. There’s a cinema showing old black and white films we can check out, food stands over on this part. I think there’s a costume competition.’

‘You’ll be entering that,’ said Azriel, a smirk on his lips.

‘He’ll scare everybody with that thing,’ said Rhys, pointing to Cassian’s crotch.

Cassian shushed them. ‘Don’t interrupt. I’ll lose my train of thought. I’ve lost it. Fireworks mark the end of the celebrations. If we make it to dawn then we get a survivor’s medal.’

‘You mean we won’t get locked in? I can leave whenever I want?’ Nesta pressed her hands together in prayer.

‘We’re staying until the end.’

‘Yeah, Nesta. Don’t you want a crappy plastic medal at the end?’ Feyre teased.

Nesta was not a night person. She had never been a night person. She could wake up at five in the morning as fresh as a daisy to begin her day – but ask her to stay awake until that time? Not a chance. If she stayed with Cassian, this would be her life every Halloween.

‘Let’s go team,’ he called and led the way towards the monstrously large maze.

She lurked at the back with Azriel. Nesta gave him a soft elbow in the side. ‘Let’s go team.’

‘Don’t,’ he replied, warning in his voice.

‘I feel like we’re in an episode of Scooby-Doo.’

Azriel gave a chuckle. ‘If he says let’s split up gang, I’m going with you. We’ll go and find a beer.’

The maze was ridiculously high. And enormous. Even Cassian was not tall enough to peer over the hedges to find the way. It would take them forever to bumble their way through to the promised haunted house. There likely wasn’t even a haunted house on the other side. Hopefully it was the car park and they could go home.

A smoke machine was working its hardest to pump the hedges with mist. Spooky, she thought with disdain. The way was lit with jack-o-lanterns. Through the hedges, Nesta could make out the low groaning of zombies and the terrified shrieks of patrons as they tried to find their way along the twisting paths.

‘Cass, you should just lift me onto your shoulders,’ called Mor.

Ugh. Yes, I’m sure you’d love to have your bare thighs around his face again, Nesta thought.

It was a few times, long ago, apparently. They were friends. It hadn’t meant anything. But they still took trips together alone and her name was still in his phone with a few heart emojis that she had apparently put there and they flirted relentlessly still. Everything was just perfect.

A zombie burst out from one of the turns they could take. His arms were outstretched, flaking fake blood on his chin. Rhys shrieked.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed.

‘Sorry man,’ the zombie replied, breaking character with his laughter, then went back down the passage he’d been lurking.

At least five times, they hit a dead end. Cassian was adamant he could find the way through without any help. They had met no end of zombies too. It was freezing cold, fake smoke was irritating her lungs, and they were nowhere closer to the damn haunted house waiting on the other side. This was on its way to being one of the worst nights of her entire life.

Their group was beginning to stretch out. Mor, after shrieking like a banshee for the eighth time, had locked onto Cassian at the front for safety. There was a gap at the front. Azriel was talking to Rhys about work as if this was a normal activity for them to engage in, while Feyre had her hand in Rhys’ as she ate a candied apple. Nesta trailed at the back, forgotten, eating candy.

It could not be more obvious to Nesta that she was not part of this group. It was an uncomfortable truth. She kept throwing it back, but like the tide, it came back to her again and again. Whilst she did not expect to be on the same page as her significant other for everything, fundamentally, Nesta and Cassian were too different for the long term. Each step through the mist felt like it was pulling a veil away rather than hiding it; they were not meant to be. In the pit of her stomach, Nesta knew when they left the spooktacular scarefest, she’d need to have that conversation with him and end it for good.

Screams sounded followed by the thump of shoes.

Nesta threw herself backwards into a hedge as a hoard of screaming teenagers came galloping down the narrow space of a crossroads. Behind them was a swarm of zombies who were thoroughly enjoying their job.

When the dust settled, Nesta froze.

‘Oh no.’

Her group had been swept up with the screaming and running. She had lost them.

After waiting a while in the hope that they might come back for her, it seemed obvious that they hadn’t even realised she was missing. She tried not to be hurt by it, but tears still prickled her eyes.

There was no cell signal in this damn place. There was also no turning back. She was too deep into the maze to retrace her fumbling steps and find the way. She had to follow the sounds of screams to try and catch up to the massive group. Perhaps it was the workers’ way of clearing out the maze before it became too congested. Nesta would find her way through and meet them by the haunted house.

At a fork, Nesta paused. It was only her and pumpkins. Neither way offered any insight to the group’s whereabouts. There were still screams, but they came in every direction, as far as the amusement park. There was a chocolate coin in her bag of candy. The foil featured a skull on one side, crossbones on the other.

‘Heads I go left.’

Nesta flipped the coin.

‘Right it is.’

It was eerie to be alone. Nesta shivered against the cold. It was surely close to midnight by now. She risked a glance upwards – a full moon. Why was that panicking her? None of this was real. A full moon meant nothing. None of this was real.

A zombie stepped into her path. Her face was painted grey with blood splattered all over it. Before she could even begin groaning, Nesta held up a finger. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

‘Oh, come on.’

In her marching, she encountered two more zombies. One of them, she threatened to punch and was told she’d receive assault charges if she did.

‘You can address the charges to the Addams Family residence.’

This was turning into an actual nightmare. She was cold and tired and wanted to go home. Why didn’t she take up Elain’s offer of a cosy night in watching chick flicks?

Logic would guide her through this. She just needed to remember which way she had originally been facing, figure out which direction she was turning through and she would find her way. It was easy. Easy peasy.

‘You’re going in circles,’ one of the zombies said. ‘I’ve seen you three times now.’

‘You are joking.’

Sure enough, at his feet was a knobbly pumpkin that was particularly grotesque. She had seen it before.

With a noise that could earn her employment with the other zombies, Nesta pressed herself into the hedge. ‘I am going to be in this maze for the rest of my life.’

Something came over her. Perhaps it was the full moon. Perhaps it was being in a relationship with an overgrown child who had abandoned her in the damn maze that she didn’t want to be in to begin with. Nesta started ripping off leaves and throwing them at the ground as if it might solve anything. She even kicked the hedge then immediately regretted it when a scratch raised up on her ankle.

‘What did that hedge ever do to you, Morticia?’

A deep, smooth voice jerked her attention away from battering the hedge.

The man had gone all out on his costume. He wore a fine blue suit with a golden patterned brocade and a billowing white shirt. A few drops of blood stained it crimson. It didn’t look cheap at all. His red hair was drawn back against the nape of his neck. He tilted his head which revealed the sharp points of his incisors. No fake plastic fangs.

‘It trapped me inside,’ she answered. ‘Dracula?’

‘Lestat. Close enough.’

‘Have you lost your friends too?’

‘No, I come to Halloween events alone,’ he replied, the sarcastic tone impossible to miss.

Nesta’s brow bunched. ‘I wonder if I can make one of these branches into a stake to ram through your chest.’

It made him laugh. It was a rich thing that sent goosebumps skittering along her skin.

‘Walk together?’

Nesta should have shut down the offer immediately. Wandering around with strange men dressed as vampires at night wouldn’t lead to anything good – but as it was, she was lost in this fucking maze and it was better to have company even if he did end up draining her blood.

They debated each fork, chose each path carefully as if it was a puzzle that they might be able to crack rather than a random route a mad farmer had decided. The man, Eris, shucked off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

At a dead end sat the Grim Reaper. A black hood was pulled down over their face and a scythe was held in one hand.

‘You have come to the end of your journey, weary soul. You must answer the riddle that was foretold.’

Eris scoffed. ‘That’s a terrible rhyme. It barely even rhymes.’

‘Yeah, well, you try saying it for eight hours a night,’ the Grim Reaper retorted. ‘Are you done? Can I carry on?’

The utter shock of being spoken back to was plastered onto Eris’ expression. It clearly did not happen often. Nesta held back her laughter; Eris had been good at getting them through the maze plus he’d let her wear his expensive jacket.

‘I protect. I stand tall. My purpose is to strike fear in all. What am I?’

‘The cops,’ Nesta offered.

Eris buried his laugh with a cough. ‘I think the answer is a scarecrow.’

The Grim Reaper stood. ‘Curses, you have solved my riddle,’ he said, voice unimaginably bored. The gate behind him creaked open. ‘You have found your freedom… for now.’

A pale hand gestured for Nesta to lead the way out of the maze and she had never been so glad to leave a place before.

‘That is a man who hates his job,’ said Eris, lips close to her ear.

The haunted house loomed in front of them. More squeals and shrieks echoed from within. It was not as big as Cassian had made it out to be, but it certainly looked haunted. Spiderwebs hung from the awning so that they dripped all the way to the steps. The wrought-iron fence was rusted and crooked, running the length of the property, save for the squeaking gate. On a hidden speaker, a child’s eerie laughter sounded on a loop along with come play with me.

‘If they have hired child actors for this bit, I won’t hesitate to hit them,’ Nesta said.

‘Stick close, fair maiden, and we will find our way through.’

Nesta pouted. She searched for a worker but there were no signs of any. This was why costumes were an utterly ridiculous idea. ‘I should wait here to see if my friends appear.’

‘Some friends, abandoning you.’

‘Yours did,’ she pointed out.

Eris held up his hands. ‘Mine are brothers. Every year we try and lose at least one of us.’

‘Well, one of mine is a sister and another is a soon to be ex-boyfriend.’

Her breath fogged in the air from the cold. There didn’t seem to be any sign of them coming through the gate. By the time they did emerge, Nesta would have turned into an icicle.

‘You go. Don’t waste your time with me.’

‘I will never abandon you. Especially not on Halloween when there’s a full moon in the sky.’

Nesta raised her brows. ‘Oh yeah? What might get me?’

Another group had made it out of the maze and were making a racket as they hurried towards the house’s gate. Eris pointed at them. His amber eyes tracked over their costumes. ‘There could be killer clowns or… hot dogs on the loose.’

Indeed, one was dressed in an inflatable hot dog costume.

‘Do you think they’re like werewolves? The full moon turns her into a hot dog?’

‘I’m more likely to do damage than she is,’ Nesta grumbled. ‘I am so hungry and so tired. You know what, I have another idea.’

Nesta pulled open the purple gate that they had come through, much to the Grim Reaper’s shock.

‘Do we have to do the haunted house? Isn’t there another route back to the main part?’

‘There are three routes out of the maze. Two of them lead back to the park. You, lucky devils, found the only path to the Horrifying Haunted Mansion. You must go through it.’

‘I believe that goes against safety regulations,’ said Eris.

‘Minimum wage. Zero hour contract. Talk to my boss.’

***

‘Two more rooms to go through.’

That was two rooms too many, Nesta thought. She had lost count of the amount of times she had screamed. Most of the Spooktacular had been hit-acular instead. Not this haunted house. It was not for the faint hearted. She had expected plastic masks hanging from strings or glow in the dark skeletons that swung into her from fraying ropes.

This was horrid.

After the first monster had come sprinting across the room at them under a deluge of strobe lights, Nesta had clung onto Eris like a koala. There was not point in feigning bravery when everything in this house seemed hellbent on giving her a heart attack; the actors hired for this part were deranged. Nesta had gone from keeping close to Eris, to walking behind him, fingers digging into his billowing shirt, to burying her face practically in his armpit and relying on him to guide her through.

She wished Cassian was here.

Not for comfort, but so he could be traumatised by this fucking place instead.

Eris blew out a breath. ‘There’s blood seeping out from under the door. I’ll carry you.’

Was this guy for real?

If he dropped her, Nesta would kill him though.

Carefully, Nesta was lifted by Eris, so she tucked her face into the crook of his neck.

‘What’s in the room?’

‘Do you really want me to describe it?’

Yes. No. She wasn’t sure.

After peeping open one eye, she wished she hadn’t. People were manacled from the ceiling, heads lolling uncomfortably. Raw meat hung from hooks. As Eris had described, fake blood soaked the floor. She was fairly certain it was fake blood. It better have been fake blood. Jars filled with severed limbs, eyeballs, and organs lined the wall. It looked like something out of Saw.

‘The raw meat is bad enough but if they’ve used animal blood, it’s a health violation. I’ll have them shut down,’ Eris muttered.

Nesta screwed her eyes shut.

‘Whoever made this place was an absolute freak. And not in a good way.’

Eris’ laugh made a rumble deep in his chest. ‘What’s the good way?’

‘The kinky sexy way,’ she said, before she could stop herself.

‘Ah, like handcuffs instead of manacles?’

‘No comment.’

Although Nesta had known the man for only an hour, she already could tell that he’d be grinning at her comment. And something about that had her pressing a smile against his skin in return.

‘What would be your absolute nightmare? In the final room, what do you not want to see?’

‘Oh my god. Is this going to be a strange set up meant only for me? I hope it’s not a million dollars. I’m afraid of becoming a millionaire.’

Was it bad that her first thought went to Cassian down on one knee proposing to her with all of his friends there to witness it? That would be a nightmare. He'd trap her so she couldn't say no. She cared about him. Loved him. But she wasn’t in love with him. Wasn’t sure if she ever had been. Lust had made her get carried away and before she knew it, there was pressure from all sides to make it something more. Never again would she tangle herself with a man that her sisters already knew. It made everything more complex.

She was set down on the creaking floorboards. ‘Do I want to open my eyes?’

‘Probably not,’ he supplied.

They were faced with a narrow corridor. At the end of it was the backdoor. Freedom beckoned.

‘We’ll run for it.’

There were circular holes cut into the wall that Nesta had a sinking feeling meant hands were going to try and grab it.

‘If you grope me,’ she called, ‘I will be contacting my lawyer.’

‘Ready to run?’

‘Hold my hand,’ she begged, clinging onto Eris. If her heart wasn’t hammering so hard, she might have felt pathetic. As it was, her friends had ditched her in a zombie maze and this vampire had swooped in to save her.

With her hand locked firmly into Eris’, they sprinted towards the backdoor. Sure enough, black-gloved hands shot out as they ran, grabbing onto clothing and limbs. When they burst through the door, they tangled in sticky cobwebs that had her shrieking.

‘You survived!’

Another Grim Reaper stood before them using their scythe to point in the direction they were to go.

Nesta threw her arms around Eris, feeling the hard muscle of his body. She was reluctant to ever let him go. He seemed to be of the same attitude, because he’d set off down the dimly lit path with one arm hooking her to him.

A feeling of disappointment settled on her tongue. If Nesta had entered that house with her group, Cassian would have gravitated to Mor and supported her through it. She’d have been at the back still, squealing and panicking unless Azriel took pity on her.

Thank goodness for Eris.

‘I wouldn’t have survived that without you.’

‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘If we’d have turned the lights on, it would have been crappy fake blood and local thespians getting too into it. The darkness makes everything a bit scarier. You did great.’

‘Eris, I’d have sat on the floor and refused to move. How were you so calm?’

Eris tipped back his head in low, false laughter. ‘Oh, compared to my father, that house was a leisurely jaunt. I am starving. I couldn’t work out if it was your stomach grumbling or a prisoner of the house. What about a late dinner?’

***

‘There has to be something. Something in the past that made you hate Halloween.’

Nesta tugged a slice of pizza from the rest, marvelling at the stringy cheese drooping from it. ‘It wasn’t even Halloween. Goosebumps.’

‘The books? I mean when you’re ten, they’re truly scary,’ Eris teased.

She chewed down a mouthful of pizza. They’d found the cluster of food stalls with tired workers who looked as if they were counting down the hours until dawn so they could go home. A large seating area was in the middle of the stands so they’d set up camp there, Nesta still in Eris’ jacket. There was a cage with a few bats in that Eris commented was a food standard violation to have them so close to people dining.

‘No, the show. There was one episode. It freaked me out.’

‘The sponge under the sink?’

‘Seriously? No.’

‘Oh! Night of the Living Dummy – with Slappy? My brother hated that. We actually bought a Slappy and put it in his bed. He cried for hours.’

‘The one at Horrorland with those green things. Then it turns out they’re on a monster game show. But the start of the episode really did a number on me.’

Eris put his arm across her back and stroked up and down. ‘You poor thing. I hated Are You Afraid of The Dark with that monster in the swimming pool. I made my little brother sleep in my bed. Told my mother he was the one afraid, not me.’

They ate the rest of their shared pizza in a hush that wasn’t unpleasant. They’d both opted for coffee to keep them awake – and keep them warm. His knee was pressed to her thigh. A hand rested on top of his leg and Nesta had the mad urge to hold onto it like she had in the haunted house. Something held her back – a loyalty to Cassian that he had never deserved.

Positioned near the heaviest traffic of the park, Nesta was scanning the crowds for signs of her group. Many people had left. Only a few idiots would remain until the dawn – her group included.

‘You can go,’ Nesta insisted. ‘Won’t your brothers drive off if you’re not with them?’

Eris rummaged into the pocket of the jacket she was wearing – because he’d refused its return – and pulled out a set of car keys. ‘We all drove separately. We don’t like each other enough to car pool.’

That was a wise idea. Nesta wished she’d have taken her own transport so she could have turned around at the gates and gone home. She supposed she’d not have met Eris if she had done that. Some things were worth enduring.

‘This soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. Is it because he left you in the maze?’

Generally, Nesta was not a person who liked to share her business with other people. It felt a lot like airing dirty laundry. She did not care for gossip – her own or otherwise. But she had few friends. The two she did have thought Cassian was wonderful because Nesta had never been able to be honest about the problems in the relationship and cast him in a bad light.

It felt different to be dressed as Morticia Addams, sharing a pizza with Lestat de Lioncourt. Eris was a stranger who she’d never see again. What did it matter if she spilt her heart to him?

‘That was the final nail in the coffin. I didn’t want to come here, but he doesn’t really take no as an option. If I didn’t come tonight, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. I’m boring. I’m no fun. None of his friend’s girlfriends kick up such a fuss. He also slept with his friend and she’s still around all the time. I can’t voice that it makes me uncomfortable because then I’m being jealous and controlling.’ She took a sip of the too-hot coffee to act as a distraction. ‘We’re not compatible. I keep trying to resurrect a dying relationship – but why? I’m not even happy with him. I’m not myself with him.’ Nesta gave a yowl of frustration. ‘I change myself for him all the time – I hate dressing up.’

Nesta focused on the blurring lights of one of the stalls to distract herself.

Carefully, Eris’ hand landed on the back of her head to slip her wig off. His fingers twined in her scrunchie at the nap of her neck to pull that loose so her hair fell freely then he handed her a napkin to wipe away the crimson lipstick staining her.

‘Thank you.’

Eris gave a tight smile in response. ‘I think you’re wonderful as you are. Kicking hedges, threatening to stake me through the heart, or taking the slices with the most cheese on.’

‘You caught that?’

‘Next time, I get the cheesiest slices. Let me drive you home.’

There could be nothing more foolish than accepting a ride from a stranger, but it was tempting. He’d proved himself to be polite and charming, never putting his hands on her more than he needed to – and sometimes Nesta had wished they did linger on her.

‘I ought to stay. Get my survivor’s medal.’

Eris cocked his head to one side. ‘Why?’

Because Cassian would be annoyed with her if she didn’t stay. They’d talk about it for weeks afterwards, how Nesta was the only one who didn’t follow through with the plan or how she ruined the evening by getting lost in the maze. Everything could be spiralled back to being her fault somehow. She didn’t want the crappy medal. The only good moment of the night had been meeting Eris.

‘I have heated seats.’

‘Sold,’ Nesta said, rising to her feet.

Eris offered her an arm to take, ever the gentleman. As the night grew colder by the moment, his warmth was welcomed. They weaved through goblins and ghouls, witches and werewolves, as they crossed the funfair. Nesta still kept a look out for Cassian or Feyre but couldn’t see them.

‘You don’t want to go on the big wheel? The ghost train?’

‘I have had enough of Halloween. I want to go home, go to bed, and tomorrow I’m staying on the couch eating candy all day.’

Eris made a low groan that was almost erotic. ‘I am envious of your life.’

‘What is your plan?’

‘Try not to get too excited but I am a health and safety executive.’

‘Ooh, safety standards and worker rights. Tell me more.’

He gave her a soft nudge in the ribs. ‘I studied law because I like arguing. It turns out I like ruining fun too. I’m coming back here tomorrow when it’s light to shut down half the park. The maze was too narrow, it breeched safety standards. If there had been an evacuation, it fell short of requirements. And as for the murder house, well, that will be feeling the full wrath of health and safety laws.’

Nesta tipped her head back and made a moan to rival Eris’ one. ‘Oh, I love it when you talk OSHA.’

‘It’s not the most exciting job, I’ll admit. It pays well. There is travel involved. I’m high up the ladder already.’

‘Did you actually come here with brothers?’

‘Nesta,’ he sighed, amber eyes snagging on her. ‘Do you think my hobby is walking around dressed as a vampire picking up abandoned women in mazes?’

‘We all have our hobbies, Eris.’

‘My brothers and I always check one out as civilians. They’re into it. It gives me a chance to see the on-the-ground running before I swoop in and they have time to hide their atrocities’

The car park was far emptier than it had been when they’d pulled up that evening. At her request, they’d gone to check if Rhysand’s car was still there. Her heart sank at the empty space. They had gone. At some point, the group had just left, left without her.

Eris must have read something in her face because he stopped walking and pulled her into a tight embrace. She burrowed against his chest, so fed up of being an afterthought.

‘I know what it will be. It will be my fault because I got lost. Not theirs for running off. I will have ruined their whole evening.’ Her voice came out muffled against his shirt.

His arms encased her. She fit naturally to his body as two pieces of a puzzle. Lips pressed to her forehead. ‘You deserve far better than this. You’re wasted on people like that.’

For a while, they remained cuddling in the car park, neither one quite ready to stop it. It was only when a man dressed as Jack Skellington wolf-whistled at them did they reluctantly peel apart. Eris brushed away her gratitude for the comfort, but he kept his arm around her as they walked.

When they reached his car, it was worth more than she had in her bank account. He held the door open for her, those manners gleaming. ‘My lady.’

‘If you call me that again, I may let you drink my blood.’

He pushed away her hair so his fingers could trail the vein of her neck. It was tantalisingly slow then he drew back and closed the car door, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Nesta had to stop herself from squealing and kicking her legs as he walked around to the driver’s side. If she met a man like Eris each time she was abandoned in a maze, she’d go to Spooktaculars more often.

On the drive home, her phone finally started to ping with messages as she received signal. They gradually became more frantic then angry as if she was deliberately avoiding them. Rather than message Cassian, who would undoubtedly blow up her phone if he found out she was riding home with a stranger, she messaged Feyre. It was a simple thing.

You left me behind in the maze. No signal. Thanks for waiting. Found my own way home.

‘I should probably say it now before we get to my door. I don’t sleep with men on the first date so don’t try and come into my house.’

Eris gestured to himself as he drove. ‘I need an invitation to enter a home.’

True to his word, at the door, Eris did not try to convince her to let him in. The house was dark which meant Cassian wasn’t up waiting for her.

‘Thank you for looking after me.’

He swept into a bow. ‘It was my honour. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ she replied.

Coldness slipped over her body – and not from the weather. Eris smiled and gave a wave as he walked down the garden path. He waited by his car for her to unlock the house, to see her safely inside, but Nesta felt was numb. Eris had done what she had asked. He hadn’t pushed his luck or tried for a kiss or more. He’d been a shining example of a gentleman all night. So why was she annoyed he hadn’t tried to get her into bed?

***

The soft vibrations of her phone dragged her out of sleep at eleven.

‘I’ve been so stressed,’ Cassian said as a greeting.

Not worried enough to search the park for her, not worried enough to wait at the gates, not worried enough to come to her house.

‘I had to stay at Mor’s. You had the key. I’m still bright red.’

‘Don’t call me for the rest of the day,’ replied Nesta and she hung up the phone.

It had never felt so good. She wished she still had a flip phone so she could slam the two halves together; it gleaned more satisfaction that way. A couple more times, Cassian tried to call then Mor’s phone number flashed up on her screen – a crappy attempt to get into contact.

Nesta ignored it.

She was tired and in a rotten mood as she knew she would be the morning after a crap Halloween Spooktacular. Although, it hadn’t all been bad.

After shuffling to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, Nesta spotted the note pushed through the post box that was sat on the door mat. It was a sloping, elegant script that was almost too small for her to read easily.

Trick or treat. Check behind the plant pot.

Reluctantly, Nesta opened the front door a few inches in her pyjamas, half-expecting an egg to be thrown at her. Behind the large, ceramic plant pot on the stoop was a paper bag filled with candy and chocolate. There was an envelope tucked inside. Her name was on the front in the same looping handwriting.

Nesta,

I realised in my excitement to share OSHA guidelines with you that I never asked you what you did for a living. That must be rectified. I understand that you are in the midst of emotional upheaval and I completely understand if you are not ready to date – presuming the soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend has been bestowed his new title.

Please call me. I promise I won’t force you through any mazes or haunted houses. Enjoy your day – here’s more candy to get you through.

Yours eternally,

Eris.

At the bottom of his letter was his number so Nesta needed to restrain herself from calling him then and there with bird nest hair and pyjamas.

No, the Spooktacular had not been all bad.

#neris #nesta archeron #eris vanserra #modern au #neris au #acotar

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new-employeeamillion · 4 months

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The past week has seen a big fuss in the cartoon community over the expiration of Mickey Mouse’s copyright, meaning that after 96 years, his first 3 shorts are now public domain and free for anyone to use (although the added soundtracks to the first 2 are still under copyright until next year).

Everyone’s been preparing for this moment for a long time, ever since Disney got copyright laws extended in 1998. Already, there’s been a lot of people uploading the shorts everywhere without consequence to stick it to the man, and I’ve seen more dark and twisted interpretations of Steamboat Willie in 5 days than my entire life. It’s all been fascinating to see, and while I would be one to participate in such squalor, I’m holding off some energy for next year’s copyright expirations.

12 more Mickey Mouse shorts enter the public domain next year, and conveniently enough, it’s the rest of the catalogue to be animated by Ub Iwerks. That gives me the opportunity to make a video documentary about “the early years of Mickey Mouse”, going frame by frame if I want to, without any threat of a takedown. Of course, I like to believe nearly all my videos are protected under the purposes of analysis and critique, but you can never be too careful with companies like Disney. And that’s just what I plan to be when I make that video next year- too careful.

Milestones that expire next year include:

-The Opry House, the first time Mickey wears gloves in a cartoon

-The Plowboy, the first appearance of Horace Horsecollar (and maybe of Clarabelle Cow)

-The Carnival Kid, Mickey’s first audible dialogue (meaning you better be careful to not use his iconic falsetto voice for the meantime)

-Mickey’s Follies, the first appearance of original Mickey Mouse theme song, Minnie’s Yoo Hoo

-The Haunted House, a low key sequel to the premiere of Silly Symphonies, The Skeleton Dance, which is also going public on New Years Day 2025

#disney #mickey mouse #1920s #steamboat willie #plane crazy #the gallopin gaucho

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amberlynnmurdock · 5 months

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College Series (Part 1)

Part 1: Moving In

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Series Summary: Matt Murdock scarcely ever let himself get too comfortable with people because comfort was always followed by chaos, or worse, abandonment. But when you move into the co-ed apartment off campus, Matt thinks that maybe this time things will be different. At least, he really hopes so. And that might be the most naive thing he would do in his time studying law at Columbia University. Soon, his nights are filled with red wine, learning about Greek mythology and barely using his own bed to sleep in because yours is right down the hall.

A/N: This is basically me revamping what I always wanted "Library Series" to be, so I hope no one minds another college!Matt Murdock fic. I don't know if this will have a real plot yet, but I'll figure it out along the way. I hope you guys enjoy! :) This chapter is entirely in Matt's POV!

Ao3 Link

Matt Murdock walked down the sidewalk slowly, counting each step as he did until he could sense that he reached his supposed destination. He stopped with his cane in front of him and listened to his surroundings: rustling leaves, a woman walking her dog, and cars turning onto the narrow street in upper Manhattan.

The building he stood in front of was what he would be calling home for the next semester. Although he couldn’t see it, he knew it was a tall brownstone building with iron rails and large, wide steps. He could hear the creak in the old wood of the front door and the lock attached to it inside. He could hear the people inside the building moving boxes around and adjusting furniture. Strangers that he would be calling neighbors—for the time being, because people never stayed around forever.

Matt heavily sighs as he adjusts his shoulder bag and lugs his suitcase behind him, which isn’t filled with much: sweaters, shirts, jeans, underwear, sheets, toiletries, his Bible, and Orbit Reader. When he was packing at St. Agnes’ he didn’t think much about what he would need to bring. While some college students made lists and packed, and overpacked, Matt thought nothing more of it than just a new place to stay. Maybe it was because he was so used to packing the same suitcase and moving from destination to destination, that he’d become accustomed to moving around a lot. After all, he truly never had a home since his dad died. That was the only home he’d known. St. Agnes was just a place to stay.

With heavy shoulders, he walked up the steps one by one and shuffled in his duffle bag for the keys to the building. It was easy for him to pick it out. It was an old-fashioned skeleton key with an intricate gothic design he could trace with his fingertips. Once inside, he shut the heavy door behind him and stood once more before the long flight of stairs that would lead to his temporary apartment. Unfortunately, an elevator wasn’t an option.

He slowly trekked up the steps, passing each floor and the shut doors of other people moving in. Some were college kids, some weren’t, but he heard each and every conversation as he passed. It reminded him of when he was younger when he would sit in Clinton Church before mass and hear people praying to God. It was uncomfortable to hear personal things, but he’s gotten used to drowning out the noise and moving on.

After a few more flights, he finally reached the top floor of the building, which led to the apartment. It turned out to be the biggest one in the building. He pulled out the other key to the apartment and let himself inside, immediately hit with the smell of dust and old wood. He couldn’t sense any furniture in the living room, except for a small kitchen island with a marble countertop and an old wooden kitchen table set.

Matt traced his fingers along the wall as he slowly made his way to the hall that led to the bedrooms. First come, first serve he thought. There were two rooms closer to the front of the apartment with large windows—he could feel the cold draft coming in through them—and two rooms tucked towards the back. He immediately gravitated to the room furthest in the back. He didn’t like hearing the city at night, and he knew if he chose one of the rooms up front he’d never get a good night’s sleep. Then again, he seldom ever did.

When he opened the room’s door, he dropped his bags and held his hands out to feel for the bed. It was in the center of the room, which he didn’t like, so he moved it to fit right in one of the corners. He pressed his hands on the mattress—brand new as the apartment listing said. And he knew it wasn’t a lie because he could smell the fresh, factory smell of the brand-new mattress. In fact, all the beds in the rooms had new mattresses, now that he could smell it in the air.

There was a dresser against the other wall and a small closet. He didn’t have much to fill both up. In the other corner was a small work desk for homework. He began to unpack his books from his duffle bag and stacked them neatly on the desk. He ran his fingers over one of the titles in braille: Criminal Law & Procedure.

The second year of law school is allegedly easier than the first. At least, this second year comes with more freedom, such as the option to live off campus rather than in one of the small dorms. At least his first year he got to meet his best friend: Foggy Nelson.

Which, speaking of, he was bounding up the steps already with three bags he could barely carry by himself.

“Matt!” He heard his friend shout from the steps, “Hey, Matt! You here yet?”

Matt met Foggy at the top of the stairs and laughed—he could hear the struggle in his friend’s voice.

“Why don’t you stop laughin’ at me and grab a bag?!”

After what felt like hours of going up and down the steps helping Foggy with his bags, and carrying a couch up into the living room, followed by a long goodbye from Foggy’s mom, Matt and Foggy plopped themselves on the couch in exhaustion.

“Man,” Foggy groaned, “I didn’t know the apartment was on the top floor. I’m beat.”

“Maybe that’s why it was so cheap,” Matt thought, “no one wants to walk up those stairs.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Foggy answered. “Welp, guess I gotta pick a room. You don't think whoever we’re rooming with will mind we chose first, right?”

“Nah,” Matt shrugged, “the apartment listing said whoever gets here first picks. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Alright. Where’s your room? I’ll pick the one next to it.”

“I opted for the one farthest in the back,” Matt said, leaning over as Foggy got up to pick a room. He listened as Foggy shuffled between the rooms and moved his bags into his chosen space.

Matt stayed on the couch, his hearing strayed to the noise that was outside the front windows. Naturally cocking his head, he could hear a local deli closing up for the evening. He could even smell the lingering scent of stale coffee. He heard people closer to Columbia University laughing and getting ready to go out to whatever frat party was going on that night. In the distance, he heard sirens wailing—for what reason, he didn’t know. He didn’t understand the ache that grew in his chest the longer he continued to listen to them.

“Matt?” Foggy called for him, “You good?”

“Yeah,” Matt stammered. “What did you say?”

“I said let’s get dressed and find a local bar to hang at!”

That didn’t take much convincing.

✣✣✣✣

If Matt thought lugging suitcases up the flight of stairs was tough, he wasn’t prepared to walk up the stairs intoxicated.

“Man, that was a terrible idea. Terrible idea you had,” Foggy slurred as he bumped into Matt on the stairs. Matt let out a laugh as he pushed Foggy back.

“My idea? It was your idea, you asshole,” Matt shot back playfully.

“Was it?” Foggy questioned, “Oh yeah, it was. God, how many stairs are there?”

Everything was spinning inside Matt’s head. He looked up behind his dark glasses and sensed the number of steps.

“We have four flights left,” Matt said, pausing at the second floor and leaning against the wall.

“Jesus,” Foggy groaned. “Terrible, terrible idea, Matt.”

After fifteen minutes of an agonizingly drunk walk up the stairs, both Matt and Foggy finally made it to their new temporary home and collapsed on the couch at opposite ends. Matt let his head dip back on the couch while Foggy attempted to lift his legs on a spare moving box in front of him. Matt laughed at his attempts; he didn’t have to see to know his friend was struggling.

“Hopefully our roommates will join us on future bar crawls,” Foggy said aloud.

“Hopefully they don’t suck.”

“That too,” Foggy agreed. “I think—I think I’m going to call it a night, Matt. I’ll…I’ll talk to you…” and just like that, Foggy Nelson was snoring on the couch with his legs half-propped on a box. Matt forced himself to get up and move to his bed, not before putting a blanket over Foggy and turning the lights off.

When Matt reached his room, his equilibrium was still making things seem spinning. He stumbled over his suitcase and duffle bag and caught himself on his bed, where he landed on his back. He threw his dark glasses on his desk and shut his eyes, using all his might to avoid listening to the sounds that lay outside the window. Putting himself in the back room was a good idea because it was much easier to ignore what he heard—more importantly, ignore how it made him feel. The liquor in him only swirled those feelings away.

Matt turned on his side and reached for the Bible he kept under his pillow. He ran his fingers over the braille until he found a particular prayer he was looking for:

“Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen. Because of it the ancients were well attested. By faith we understand that the universe was ordered by the word of God, so that what is visible came into being through the invisible.” Hebrews 11:1-3.

Matt rested the Bible on his chest, mind drifting to things of his past, things he only kept hidden and locked away until he was completely alone with himself like he was now. It was heavy. Not the suitcase, not the way his legs felt walking up the steps inebriated, but the weight of the past, creeping up on him when he was alone.

He fell heavily into a deep sleep.

✣✣✣✣

Morning came, and so did his hangover.

Matt was awakened by a knock on his door. Not his door, but the front door. A knock he would not have heard if not for his heightened senses. Throwing his dark glasses on, he rolled out of bed and walked into the living room. On the couch, Foggy still lay asleep, snoring. Matt’s head was pounding and his feet felt like cement as he stalked to the door, the knocking growing more erratic.

When he opened the door, he was met with an overwhelming waft of sweet beery perfume and bubblegum. The person who stood in front of him—a young woman, he sensed—popped a bubble and clicked the gum inside her mouth.

“Oh,” a squeaky voice said. “Are you a roomie?”

“Uh…“

“I’m Marci,” the young woman introduced herself. She held out her hand, but Matt made no move to shake it.

“I’m—I’m Matt,” Matt said. He could sense the young woman’s candor by the way she pulled her hand back immediately and placed it on her hip.

“Are you blind or are you hungover?” She clicked her gum again, taking note he was wearing dark glasses inside.

Matt’s mouth twitched upwards. He wasn’t offended by her bluntness, only amused.

“Both,” he simply said.

“Hm,” she said, “well, I’m your new roomie.” she peered inside to see Foggy sleeping on the couch. “I’ll need help with my suitcases.”

And yet again, Matt was subjected to the torture of helping people bring their suitcases up the long flight of stairs. But if this was someone he was going to be living with for the next year, he thought it better to make friends and help than make enemies and refuse. Even if she was a little brash.

“Matt?” Foggy groggily opened his eyes to the movement of boxes being lugged around. “Jesus!” Foggy said in the startling realization that Matt was no longer the only one he shared a space with. When he saw the beautiful blonde with her arms crossed and a look of judgment on her face, Foggy thought he might’ve woken up to an angel.

“I’m Marci Stahl,” she popped her gum again. “Are you going to help bring my stuff up?”

“Absolutely,” Foggy stumbled to his feet, ignoring the spins he felt. Matt suppressed a chuckle as he placed the final box (he decided it was the final box for him now that Foggy was awake) on the ground. Now, it was up to Foggy.

Well, Foggy couldn’t completely help Marci yet before making a trip to the bathroom and yakking up the previous night’s regrets. Marci waited in the hall with her arms crossed. When Foggy met her outside again, he smiled awkwardly as Marci told him where her remaining boxes were. She had her mother waiting outside as well, who couldn’t be bothered to help bring up boxes.

Matt took this as an opportunity to lock himself in his room and boot up his Orbit Reader to learn of his new schedule, starting Monday. He scrolled to find his classes and their descriptions, and what books he would need for class. With one earplug in, he listened as it read it to him. But not even the Orbit could help drown out Foggy’s attempts at flirting with Marci.

✣✣✣✣

“You’re not so bad, aren’t you?” Marci asked with suspicious eyes at Foggy. Foggy offered a hearty laugh and sat down on a pink velvet love cushion that belonged to Marci. She took a seat at the end of the couch, closest to Foggy.

“What do you mean?” Foggy shrugged his shoulders, a goofy grin on his face. His long blonde hair peeked out under his green beanie. He had a terrible goatee, but for some reason, made him all the more endearing.

“Well, we’re all going to be living together this year. Glad the co-ed space I chose has someone willing to carry all my boxes up the steps without complaint. And you’re not an asshole,” Marci rested her elbow on the arm of the couch, studying Foggy carefully.

“What can I say? I’m pretty charming,” Foggy smiled.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Marci smirked.

Matt sat at his desk laughing to himself as he listened to their conversation.

“What are you studying? You’re a grad student?” Foggy asked, ignoring her retort.

Marci looked at him like it was an obvious question. “I’m in the law school.”

“Really?! No way!” Foggy exclaimed. “That’s what we’re here for, too. 2L?”

“Of course,” Marci said. “I wouldn’t be here if it were my first year.”

“Hey, maybe it was your third. I don’t know. What kind of law do you want to do?”

“IP, corporate, civil rights,” Marci shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll let it find me.”

“Badass,” Foggy nodded his head in amusement. Marci chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“What’s up with your friend in there? Why hasn’t he joined us?”

“You’re right,” Foggy agreed. “Matt! Get your ass outta there and come bond with your roommates!”

Matt sighed and leaned back in his uncomfortable wooden chair. It was only a matter of time before he was summoned to socialize. He shut down his Orbit Reader and joined them in the living room, reaching in front of him to find the other end of the couch.

“Well, I’m here,” Matt simply said with a small smile. He wasn’t really sure what to say.

“You’re the moody one, aren’t you?” Marci said with slight amusement, resting her chin in her hand. Matt chuckled.

“I wouldn’t say moody,” Matt scratched the back of his neck. “Uhh. Maybe I would, actually.”

“Every friendship duo has to have one. Clearly, your friend Foggy here is the opposite,” Marci teased. “My friend is like you, too. Quite type. Locks herself in her room. She should be here soon,” Marci thought aloud.

Matt quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, “Is she our fourth roommate?”

“Sure is. Let me call her real quick.” Marci got up and into her chosen room, the one in the front with the largest windows.

Now that it was just Foggy and Matt, Foggy immediately bounded over to sit next to Matt on the couch and squeezed his arm.

“Dude, did we get lucky or what?!” Foggy shout whispered. “Rooming with two chicks?!”

Matt pushed his friend away with a laugh, “Foggy, don’t be like that, that’s gross. We’re supposed to be roommates.”

Foggy held his hands up in defense, “I’m just sayin’ man, let things run their course. Oh man, she’s beautiful. Blonde, has sharp features and—“

“Shh,” Matt hushed his friend. “She just got off the phone.”

“She’ll be here in ten minutes,” Marci announced as she walked back into the living. She paused as she noticed how close Matt and Foggy were sitting. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Nothing,” they said in unison, feigning innocence.

✣✣✣✣

While Foggy and Marci were exchanging life stories and their experiences studying to get into law school, Matt let his senses drift to focus on what else was going on in the building. He didn't want to engage in conversation, especially if the topic was backstories. He wasn’t ashamed of his upbringing at all, nor was he ashamed of where he grew up after his dad died, but he couldn’t deal with the reactions or sympathy his story inevitably brought out of people. He just didn’t feel like dealing with it with Marci, especially given how well her and Foggy’s conversation was already going. What did he have to add to it other than a tragic accident?

A cool draft floated through the stairs, finding its way in any open creak or door in the building. Some of their downstairs neighbors were still moving in. In another room, someone was twisting a bottle of white wine open. Another attempted to hang a picture frame. Matt could hear the banging of the hammer on the second floor, the vibrations against the wall. He had to hide his grimace when he heard a chair squeak on the hardwood floor.

Despite these sounds that no one else could hear, Matt had high hopes for the near future. He imagined late-night studying and sleeping in on weekends. He imagined sneaking into frat parties with Foggy and ending the night at local dive bars.

When he heard the front door open, something shifted in the entire building. Something that caused Matt to move forward on the couch ever so slightly to hear better. The cold draft was replaced by a warmth in the air, followed by the ever-so-faint scent of lavender. Accompanied by the smell was an equally faint heartbeat. This person wasn’t nervous, they were content. He heard them sigh, and at this sound, Matt confirmed he was listening to a young woman. She too had a shoulder bag and suitcase she was lugging around, nothing else. No boxes filled with decorations or other extra things. No family dropped her off.

Just her.

She walked up the steps, one by one, and Matt could hear the pauses she took from the amount of stairs. His mouth twitched into a smile, fascinated that she was equally surpassed by the amount of stairs. It was clear that she was their fourth roommate, and it was confirmed when Matt heard her dial a number in her phone and Marci’s began to vibrate.

“Are you here?” Marci asked through the phone immediately.

“Yeah,” her friend breathed, “but I didn’t realize how many stairs there were! I’ll be up in five minutes if I’m lucky.”

“Do you need help with your bags? We luckily have two strong, burly men to do any heavy lifting we need,” Marci winked at Foggy.

“No, I’m okay. I just have two bags. I’ll be right up.”

Marci squealed when she hung up the phone. “She’s here! Let me get the door for her.”

As Marci walked over to open the front door, both Matt and Foggy stood up from their seats and awaited their fourth roommate’s arrival. Foggy waited like an excited puppy as he watched Marci lean in the doorway for her friend. Matt stood awkwardly, terrible at first encounters. He kept his hands in his pockets and tilted his head low, feeling more comfortable behind his dark glasses and chocolate brown hair that fell right over his eyes. The scent of lavender grew stronger the closer she made it to the apartment.

And when she walked in, no longer did Matt hear the creak in the wood, the downstairs neighbors’ chatter, the outside city noises. No longer did he feel the cool draft from outside, or his own nervous heart beating in his chest. All of his senses, and all of his focus, were on her. The one other roommate who showed up alone, with no family, with nothing but two bags, and possibly an equally lonely heart.

TAGS: @marvelcinematiquniverse

#matt murdock x reader #college!matt murdock #college!matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #charlie cox #daredevil #foggy nelson #marci stahl #college series

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quitealotofsodapop · 4 months

Text

Macaque in the "Century Stone Egg au";

Basically XD

LBD accidentally gets the whiff of Sun Wukong being back + "having a future heir", and gives this information to the imprisioned Macaque to enrage him into working for her.

The second Macaque is revived, he still yeets the Skeleton Key far away as in canon, and books it towards FFM to see Wukong.

He doesn't even know *why* he's so insistent on seeing Wukong right now. His mind is running on fumes atm. Who is the heir? Why was Wukong apparently "gone" for so long? Hey, who are these people hanging around the island?

Macaque likely skulks around the island at first for a few days to scope out the situation. What monkey could measure up to his former mate to be an heir? Macaque makes a loud gulp as the figure of his King (somehow more beautiful than he remembered) turns to see him.

Wukong: *confused "hm?"* Macaque: *still a mess from his revival. Eyes fixated on both Wukong and... Wukong's swollen stomach* Wukong: *too shocked too speak. Eye start watering with a mix of joy and fear* Macaque: "Is... how?" Wukong, voice croaking with emotion: "After I lost you, it seemed like the right idea." Macaque: "Was it with someone or-" *eyes widen* "You made a Stone Egg didn't you?" Wukong: *nods with a mix of smug pride* Macaque, lets out a relieved gasp: "Peaches if I wasn't so mad at being killed right now, I'd grab you and hold you and kiss you." Wukong, laughing with tears: "Don't worry. Your jiějie will do it in my stead." Macaque: "Huh? what do you mean-" PIF, slams in to Mac at mach speed: "LIU'ER MIHOU! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?" *hugs him in chokehold* "I've been alone for almost 500 years making sure no one bothered Wukong or my future niece!" Wukong: "Tieshan, I told you, there's no way to know for certain what they'll identity as." *turns to Mac* "Sorry Plums. She insisted I get an ultrasound to check on the baby. I have photos if you want to see them?" Macaque: *can't breath cus tightness of PIF's hold/has no idea what an ultrasound is, but tail thumps with delight* The rest of the gang: *mouths agape in shock* Σ(ﾟ口ﾟ;)//

Macaque openly cries when he sees/understands the ultrasound photos. (Sound that allows you to hear the shape/condition of the baby? Super cool!) He's sobbing at how beautiful his mate is, and how perfect *their* cub is already!! It's hard to remind Mac that Wukong is technically the Egg's only parent, but the gang let him have this fatherly pride. He's a little peeved that Wukong went through with the Stone Egg process despite the warnings from Gibbon and Baboon, but upon learning "Thats what the immortalities were for", he starts crying/realising so much all at once.

The subjects of the island all have a massive party to welcome Macaque back, something the Warrior honestly didn't expect. He didn't know that even for what he'd done, their people still missed their Kings' mate. And now he's back!!

In the Century Egg au, Macaque likely isn't carrying the Eclipse twins... or they're underdeveloped to the point that Mac is stuck incubating them for about a few years (like 10+) more until they're ready to pop out. He'd only find out about them out of his own curiousity at the ultrasound tech - Sandy has to catch Mac mid-faint at the news.

With his mate (tenative but healing relationship) by his side Wukong finally births his egg. Newborn "Xiaotian" has double the amount of parents (much more the amount of family) Wukong had originally planned for!

Macaque isn't jealous of the baby. Far from it. This is the infant his mate wanted so badly to have, that he risked the wraths of Heaven and Diyu to create and be there for. Xiaotian is Mac and Wukong's joy personified. Macaque's stone monkey instincts kick in and he's running around like super-dad; tending to the baby and/or Wukong whenever the King needs.

Macaque is also secretly really touched that Wukong kept loyal to him even centuries after his death. Still wonders why tf he died tho (S5 related probably).

#century stone egg au #stone egg talk #shadowpeach #pregnancy tw #lmk aus #sun wukong #liu er mihou #six eared macaque #lmk pif #lmk princess iron fan #lmk #lego monkie kid

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cherrythepuppet · 7 months

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Corpse puppet [Part 12]

@sketchquill "This is gonna be good" -The war skeleton, Updates are very late due to me currently being grounded Apologies Folks

"Oh, my dear" Mother muttered as both her and Father looked out the car windows for their Child "Oh, it's almost dawn! Where could they be?!" Mother yelled

"(Y/n (L/n) elopes with corpse! Heartbroken Groom to wed wealthy newcomer!" The town crier yelled "Wealthy newcomer? lt cannot be..." Mother mumbled

"Did he say corpse?" Father asked "Oh, don't be ridiculous! What corpse would marry our (Y/n)?" Mother said as the driver started violently coughing

"Oh, Leo! Silence that blasted coughing!" Mother yelled as the driver, Leo, was coughing and holding their throat then they turned blue and fell off the stage coach before dying

Otto let out a meow as he held wally's bouquet of blue roses in his mouth and contiued walking to the bar with (Y/n) following closely behind

Otto set the bouquet down and (Y/n) picked it up as Otto had ran off, (Y/n) sighed as They entered the bar and could hear wally playing with the piano

(Y/n) watched in awe for a moment before sitting next to him "l...i think you dropped this" They said as they held out his bouquet "l'm sorry...l'm sorry l lied to you about wanting to see my parents...lt's just this whole day hasn't gone quite, well according to plan" (Y/n) told him

Wally didn't answear but he glared at (Y/n) who sighed and put his bouquet on a nearby table before playing a few piano keys

They looked back at wally to see if he'd smile but he never did so just as (Y/n) was about to leave wally grinned and began playing a few piano keys as well

(Y/n) smiled as they contiued to play along and the two played together for a moment until wally's plush hand came off and twirled around (Y/n)'s arm and shoulder

(Y/n) chuckled and so did Wally as he grabbed his hand "Pardon my enthusiasm" he said "its okay...l like your enthusiasm" (Y/n) said

The two stared at each for a moment as once again it was like they've known each other forever just then-

"New arrival! New arrival!" Sally yelled as she violently smacked a bell with a bat and everyone in town began coming to the bar

"Lights up!" "Hurry up, boys!" "Drinks for everyone" "Another pint, sir?" "No, no. Just a half" "lt is impossible to get good help anymore!"

Sally pushed through the crowd while dragging poppy with her "Welcoming committee, coming through! Coming through!" Sally yelled as she and poppy went up to the new arrival

"Welcome to the afterlife! My name is Sally Starlet and this is Poppy Partridge!" Sally exclaimed as poppy waved

(Y/n) stared at the new Comer before realizing "Leo!" They yelled as they ran towards the new arrival "Leo! How nice to see-" they paused

Then (Y/n) realized that Leo's skin was blue "l'm so sorry..." (Y/n) mumbled "Oh, yeah. Actually, though, l feel great!" Leo said with a raspy voice

"Hurry up, boys! Can you not see the new arrival is parched?" Darling yelled behind the counter "Leo, l have to get back! They all must be worried sick!" (Y/n) yelled

"H-how is everyone?" they asked "Well, they're still wondering where you slipped off to Oh, and Mr Howdy..." Leo trailed off as they choose their words carefully

"Yes? Yes, how is he?" (Y/n) asked "Well, he's getting married this evening..." leo mumbled making (Y/n)'s eyes widened "What? Married to who?!" They asked

"Some newcomer, Lady Somebody-or-Other" Leo said with a shrug "But that's impossible!" (Y/n) yelled "Yeah, with you gone and all...l guess they didn't wanna waste the cake" Leo joked hoping it would make them laugh

"But how could he?" (Y/n) mumbled then they began to walk out of the bar "(Y/n)? Where are you going?" Wally asked as he watched them leave...

"Mr Howdy, we must leave for the church now" The maid told him "Yesterday l thought my wedding would be happy Now l feel like l'm caught in the tide, pulled out to sea" Howdy mumbled

"The sea leads to many places, dearie Maybe you'll land somewhere better!" The maid said hoping to cheer him up

"With this candle, l will light your way in darkness. With this ring l ask you to be mine" Julie said as she put the ring on Howdy

"l now pronounce you man and wife!" Pastor Kermit announced.....

#welcome home #welcome home au #wally darling #wally darling x reader #corpse puppet au #fanfic #howdy pillar

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mariistyping · 27 days

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The Glamorous Tale of the Soul King

(art and also story prompt by @elizabeths-storytime)

Summary: Luffy, worn out but excited from the days events, rallies the crew on the deck and asks Brook to tell them a story. As the crew’s resident showman he spins a tale of the difference between being human and being a skeleton.

Word count: 1146 words

Genre: fluff (?) with some angst thrown in because I can’t help it.

Tags/TW: obviously talks about brook's death. A little sadness tinged with skeletal puns.

((Note: I love brook 🥹 when I saw their post about this it broke me and I thought. What better way to start actually writing on here again. I hope you enjoy))

As the thrilling battle winds to a close, the straw hat crew follows Luffy as he laughs in the direction of the thousand sunny. The sun setting over the horizon set the perfect backdrop for another hard earned victory for the crew. As the last member graced the deck of the beloved ship, Sanji calls out loudly.

“Someone start a fire while I start dinner!” He said to no one in particular. The crew set off in various directions to perform tasks before the set off back into the waters of the new world to find their next resting place. Brook walked over to start the fire like Sanji asked, and Usopp followed behind him to help. The two worked in silence until the fire roared bright and they both sat back and sighed.

“Rough day out there huh?” Usopp said with a slight groan. Brook nods back at the man. “My bones are exhausted. All I want to do is close my eyes…” he paused for a moment before following up with “if I had any eyes!” Earning a boisterous laugh from himself while Usopp groaned again, a small smile playing on his lips.

The crew all meandered over to the fire as they finished up their tasks, the conversations growing into a collective small roar as the men and women gathered around the fire. Brook brought out his violin a soft grin on his mouth as a skeletal finger ran over the chipped wood. Many memories were made on this instrument. If it could talk the stories it would tell could hush bars filled with the rowdiest pirates. Brook sighed to himself in pleasant memories as he started up his favorite song.

“Yooooo yooo ho ho. Yooooo yooo ho ho~”

The skeleton man stood up and pranced around the group as he continued to play the song, gathering loud cheers and whoops as he played louder and more carefree. The sounds of the straw hat pirates bring forth still shot memories in his mind of his crew from long ago. As much as he loved the straw hats, he did mourn the way his fingers sounded when he still had human flesh. The strings sounded nasal, high pitched without the hard earned calluses of a flesh and blood musician. His playing faltered for just a second as his thoughts ran wild, but it was enough for Luffy to notice the off key note.

As Luffy sat in the spot next to where Brook was once sat, he eyed the skeleton quickly. He couldn’t help but crack a smile a the man’s enthusiasm as he bounced around, at times bouncing on one foot, playing his violin. To Luffy it was the greatest sound in the world because Brook was his musician.

As he finished up the song and the crew cheered, everyone dispersed into their own conversations filled with laughter and excitement. Brook took his seat back, a somber look on his face as he took a drink from the glass Sanji had placed before him.

“What’s up?” He heard a young, husky voice ask him. As he turned he was instantly greeted by the Luffy’s head extended to where he could look the man in the eye sockets without ever leaving his seat. Brook tried to feign innocence in the face of the young captain, attempting to wave him off.

“Oh nothing Luffy. Just memories of a bygone era lurking up on me.” The skeleton laughed mirthlessly, no smile to be seen on the bottom half of his skull. Luffy cocked his brow and patted a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Come on Brook. Tell me why you’re so sad!” The captain clapped his hand a few times before sitting up in his seat hushing the rest of the crew. Luffy knew that Brook had a deeper story to tell and he wanted to hear it clearly.

Brook, suddenly aware of all the eyes on him, felt what would be heat run up to his face. That was the worst part about being dead, he thought. He could still imagine the sensations of emotions in his bones, but he couldn’t actually felt them. He shook off the thought and looked around grateful no one could tell he was blushing.

“Ok. Ok..”

~over 50 years ago~

As Brook walked out onto the deck of the ship he shared with the rest of the crew of the Rumbar Pirates, the salty sea air encircled him in a warm summer breeze. He breathed in the smell of the ocean and sighed as he felt the sun shine down on his tanned skin. He held his violin in one hand, and as he woke up a little bit more, he started playing a joyful melody comprised of his favorite song. As his calloused fingers masterfully picked over the chipped strings he felt truly at peace, the music washing a soothing glow over the entire area.

His musical ramblings spurred his crew mates from their various places on the boat and they joined him, a rally of singing, dancing, and drinking, the exertion causing red cheeks and boisterous laughter. The crew in that moment really was a picturesque view of brotherhood and friendship.

Then the accident happened.

Brook remembers waking up cold and alone, his fingers only bones. He would’ve cried had his body been able to produce tears. He missed how his skin felt in the sun, how his sweat rolled down his cheek, and how his fingers picked gently and carefully over the strings of his now ancient instrument.

Every night Brook played his favorite song to put himself to sleep, but instead of the feelings of joy and camaraderie he now only heard melancholy and remorse as he plucked his boned fingers against the weathered strings of the violin. His fingers slipped too often to form a coherent song and the notes were too different for him to like anyways. At least his voice still worked.

~present~

As Brook spun his melancholy tale, the crew had varied reactions ranging from understanding to crying. Brook paused and looked at the faces of his new crew, and for a brief second he thought he could see the faces from long ago. He blinked and they were gone again, but as his current friends faces returned to view he could help but feel a strong sense of love.

While his old crew’s time had passed, he still had his, and the new bonds he had made would stand by his side like the bonds of the Rumbar Pirates once did.

“I thought once that these boney fingers of mine would never make another soul happy again.” He said stretching out his fingers in front of him. “I have to say you guys made me hear my notes differently again.”

He smiled a boney smile. “You put the soul back in the king.”

#one piece #the humming swordsman #brook #soul king brook #one piece fanfiction

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osleeplessflowero · 8 months

Text

🏖

Word Count: 1,544

The sun peeks into your room through the windows, casting its light upon everything it can touch. A fan in your room moves the curtains slightly with it, keeping you cool away from the sun's harsh warmth outside.

You lie peacefully in your bed sleeping away, moving between different dreams that are just mashed up of different thoughts, some comprehensible, some not.

The world is calm this morning.

At least, it was at the start.

As you feel yourself being trapped within a dream, you start to hear a muffled voice outside. Someone saying your name over and over..and over..

You open your eyes once your name is clearly said, blinking to un-blur your vision as you turn to see who got into your house.

"Good Morning!" Blue smiles sweetly at you, leaning over the side of the bed to look at you.

"...Blue? How did you ge- oh wait, I gave you a key, that's right."

"Yep! I Always Make Sure To Have It When I Plan To Come See You." He holds it up to demonstrate.

"Okay, well..what are you doing here exactly?"

"I Wanted To Ask You Something And I Just Couldn't Wait For You To Wake Up- You Always Oversleep-"

"Sleep is peaceful. I don't have to do anything when I'm asleep."

"i hear that."

You turn your head towards the doorway, seeing Stretch leaning in it, smiling lazily over at you. You give a half-hearted wave.

"Don't Encourage Them, Papyrus-" "don't lie, you like to sleep in too." "I- That's- Shush." You smile amusedly at the two, sitting up.

"Anyway, I Came Here To Ask If You'd Like To Join Us On Our Way To The Beach Today! We Wanted To Pick A Day Where Not-Too-Many People Were There. And That's Today."

"The beach? I dunno..I don't know if I have everything I need."

"We Could Go Shopping With You Beforehand, If You'd Like! C'mon, Don't You Wanna Have Some Fun Today? It Beats Sleepinggg-" Blue smiles, trying to persuade you. He succeeds.

"Eh, sure, why not? I'll check to see what I've got and what I need."

"Great! We'll Wait Downstairs."

"M'kay-" You watch them go downstairs, then stand up.

"Okay..time to find everything."

A bit of time passes as you scurry around your room, trying to find anything and everything you could possibly need for this daily trip.

You tend to overthink a little about every possible scenario there could be, wanting to be ready.

"you good in there?" You hear Stretch call to you from behind the closed door.

"Yeah, just gimme a sec." You grab the bag you placed everything in, before walking out of your room.

"did you get everything?" He smiles, glancing down at you while his hands are stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

"Yep- everything and beyond- just gotta get a new swimsuit. My last one's a bit too small for me now-"

"i'm sure we can find something for you once we're out."

The two of you talk as you walk downstairs until you finally reach the bottom, meeting up with Blue and walking out of the house.

You decide to sit in the back with your bag since there's more space and freedom to move there, relaxing for a bit. Some nostalgic songs play from Blue's playlist. Once you showed some classics to him he couldn't stop listening, so they pretty much fill up his playlist now.

"Comfy Back There?" "Yep, I'm all good here, Blue." "Just Making Sure-" He slides on some shades that were adjusted a bit to fit over his eyesockets.

You look out the window, smiling and waving at your neighbors as you pass by them. Everyone's so friendly here..it wasn't always like that, it took quite a bit of time before some of them warmed up to you. But once they did, you found yourself having strong bonds with them.

A neighborhood full of skeletons..who'd have thought it'd be possible? Certainly not you, that's for sure.

Everyone moving in was a pretty sudden surprise, but as time went on and you found yourself talking more and more with them, you couldn't imagine life without them.

"alright, looks like we're here."

"Oh, sweet." You smile as Stretch rolls the window up, sitting your bag down, grabbing your wallet and exiting the car before the others.

The three of you go into the store together, you taking your time picking out a swimsuit that suits your taste, as well as an oversized tee.

After a bit more time and a short fashion show, the three of you drive to the beach together. Surprisingly, it's completely empty today.

"Woah- no one is here? That's a bit odd- it's like..ridiculously hot out."

"we lucked out, it seems." "Aw, I Was Kinda Hoping I Could Talk To Some Other People. But! We Can Still Enjoy The Beach Plenty By Ourselves."

The three of you exit the car, the skeletons pulling out their beach equipment like floaties and an umbrella, you helping them carry some of it over to a nice spot near the water.

The three of you head over to the changing areas, you letting them go first, sitting down in a chair and waiting for them to come out.

They both decided to wear swim shorts of their signature colors, Blue's having some cute watermelon patterns and Stretch's having some flamingos. Ironic as always, aren't you, Stretch?

You go to change yourself, walking out and doing a 360 for Blue, feeling your face flush a little when he applauds your choices in swimwear.

You each make your way to the area where Blue set up an umbrella and some chairs. Stretch lies down on a towel, claiming he's "getting a tan", wearing some shades that cover his eyesockets. (He falls asleep within the span of a few seconds. How he does it, you'll never know.)

Blue starts to blow up some pool floats, careful not to bite into them and accidentally pop them. (He's done that before.)

You walk out to the water and feel it beckon you to enter it, so you do, running into it and falling face first, sinking until you're completely submerged.

Swimming has always been fun to do, floating beneath the bright blue water and swimming up if you sink too far.

You float back up to the surface, shaking your head a bit to get your hair away from your face and seeing Blue running towards the water.

"CANNONBALL-"

He jumps in, making a big splash next to you. You laugh a little and wait for him to swim up, grinning at you once he reaches the top.

You splash him with water, him promptly splashing you back. This goes on for a while before you end up accidentally splashing Stretch and waking him up.

"Oh shit- sorry, Stretch-"

"do you have any idea what you've just done?"

"Um-"

"you've declared WAR-"

And with that, he joined the two of you in the water, splashing you rapidly.

You find yourself laughing until water gets in your mouth, causing you to choke for a second before spitting it out. Gotta love it.

Blue steps in to defend you, the two of you teaming up against his brother in an epic splashing showdown.

Once you all get bored, you resort to swimming around for a while. Stretch floats on his back, and Blue dives underwater to see if he can find any hidden treasures.

"so, you having fun, hon?" Stretch opens one of his eyesockets to look at you as you swim up to him.

"Yeah, I'm really glad I decided to come with you guys today. It's pretty fun being able to swim. One of my favorite things about summer. And getting to be here with both of you, well..I wouldn't miss it."

You smile warmly, your smile growing a little when you see Stretch's cheekbones flush a light orange shade.

Blue emerges from the deep, popping up beside you.

"Room For One More?"

"Always."

You each chat and swim around a bit more before getting out of the water and drying off, you putting the tee over your swimsuit and sitting on the towel Stretch placed down a bit ago.

They grab some drinks out of a cooler and you grab some snacks you packed from a bag.

"So, Has Today Been..Entertaining?"

"Yeah, it's been super fun. We should do this again sometime."

"I'm Really Happy We Could Spend Some Time With You..Just The Three Of Us. Not That I Dislike The Others Or Anything, It's Just, Well..They Tend To..Catch Your Eyes More."

"Oh, Blue..I didn't know that was how you felt- I'll spend more time with you, promise. I don't want anyone to feel left out."

He simply nods in response, his cheekbones flushing a bit blue as he rests his head on your shoulder.

"don't forget me." Stretch sits down on your other side, leaning his skull on your head.

"I'm really happy I could spend the day with you..thanks for dragging me out of bed."

"It'll Definitely Happen Again-"

You all watch as the sun slowly sets, painting the sky with shades of purple and orange flowing together oh, so nicely.

"I can't wait.."

#sleeplessflower's oneshots #underswap #underswap x reader #underswap sans x reader #underswap papyrus x reader #swap sans x reader #swap papyrus x reader #swap sans goes by blue #swap papyrus goes by stretch #gender neutral reader #using the common fic nicknames

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12pt-times-new-roman · 8 months

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c3e72

We land on the northeastern shore of the island, and learn that FCG does not, in fact, know how compasses work.

Before using the compass to call the ghost pirates (?), FCG casts speak with dead on the bodies in the portable hole, and Imogen disguises herself as her mother to get them to talk. First, the druid:

[You failed your mission. Where is Thull?] "She remains at the key." [How many have come over?] "I don't know. I saw a hundred or more." [Did you ever speak to Ludinus?] "No. Just watched him." [How much time until we strike?] "I don't know." [What is the greatest threat to our organization?] "They've mentioned unity. Keep them scattered."

Next, General Ratanish: [Congratulations, you fell to a group of weaklings. Luckily, our master is forgiving. We can bring you back if you prove yourself. Tell me how we communicate.] "The old-fashioned way. The solstice has scrambled us." [Tell me how we protected our entrances to the key.] "The soldiers have been moved as you requested, and the Moonfolk have kept eyes as well." [You were in charge of keeping rebellions down, yes?] "Partially." [As you can see, I've been separated from our forces. Tell me about our entrances into the key.] "You have many tricks up your sleeve. The main pit entrance is easy. Otherwise... they were closed behind us as a precaution." [What happened to the two, the wizard and the monk?] "Probably dead."

In the throes of that massive success, they turn back to summoning a ship full of ghost pirates. From where the compass hits the water, mist billows and encloses the landscape, the temperature drops dramatically, and Orym hears nothing except for the waves and the wind. Noiselessly, a shadowed shape breaches the distant fog bank — the bow of a massive ship, chains hanging from the sides, an overgrown moss clustered up the hull, three masts with tattered sails.

It pulls up alongside the beach, and shadowed figures leap from the deck to meet them. They're mostly skeletal, wearing torn leather, wielding cutlasses — ten of them marching up the shore, splashing through the water. A handful stay on the ship, and a raspy voice echoes from it: "Take it from them. Leave them bleeding. Whatever they have is ours." Initiative!

wait are the Bells Hells finally going to get a ship if they defeat these guys??

Laudna knocks out most of the skeletons with a fireball and calls out in Shadowcant. "You sure you don't want to chat." "Hah. A chat it is. Kill the rest." The captain holds his action for the next couple of rounds.

Fearne legitimately considering not healing FCG when they're down and making death saves purely because their turn undead hit Laudna (even though it really shouldn't have bc she isn't undead) is certainly A Choice

Laudna reaches the captain, and puts his hand to her chest. "You're like me. Cursed. Rau'shan, Ka'mort, Delilah — we can end it. Together." He withdraws. "I chose this curse. The Strife Emperor granted me new life. So what else do you offer, besides returning what is mine?" She offers the compass and Chetney's cursed sword. "It's cursed, it talks to him — I figure it fits your aesthetic... it imbues him with the strength of a hundred holy men. It can grant you radiant abilities, the same ones that caused your men to flee." "Show me this blade."

Ashton rage build update: It seems like the 10th level improvement for the space rage build allows Ashton to teleport up to 60 feet on their turn. It's not clear whether this is a bonus action, a free action, or part of their movement.

Chetney approaches the captain with Graz'tchar unsheathed. "If you want your compass back, we beg but a simple journey across the seas."

Laudna's turn. "So, you're asking for passage? In trade, you all live, and you give me my compass and this fine weapon." "The compass first; the blade upon completion... you can't expect me to trust a bunch of pirates." "Collateral doesn't sound right to me. The blade now, the compass after."

Chetney hands over the blade, the captain accepts, and combat ends.

Travis went from having to be forcibly separated from the cursed sword, to willingly giving up the cursed sword after 72 episodes of buildup, to giving it away within a half dozen episodes of acquisition! that's what I call character growth!

"You have a thing here, in this realm, called guilt, and I've never really felt it before but I feel it really strongly here for some reason and it sucks—" fearne

"We didn't really do any research, we just heard about you from another woman and thought that sounded great" That is literally the Bells Hells' motto. Like. pirate captains, gods, what's the difference? they don't know shit about either!

They ask about the captain and his ship. They used to be well-known in these parts (unclear whether "these parts" refers to the Shattered Teeth or Domunas), but gained a lot of enemies; eventually, the enemies became part of the crew. They had almost gathered all of the things they were searching for when the curse befell them, and now they're searching for the rest — "things that are personal to me. Items, keepsakes, trophies, and my navigation tools."

And they, on semantics, give him his compass back. This surely will have no negative consequences in the future.

The boat is called "the Crimson Abyss." They're crossing over the Vermillion Reef. I mean, come on—

The captain has made multiple allusions to how his word is his bond, and how promises bind him, and how all the stories about him reflect this. Is he some kind of fey entity, somehow?

Ashton asks the captain about what's happening globally, and he says that he knows basically nothing.

I feel like the Bells Hells not knowing that Bane is a Betrayer God says more about the quality of the Exandrian public education system than anything—

Bane is the god of tyranny and conquest; they are lawful evil, and they believe in structure through domination, that those who are in power are there because they deserve or have earned it. In essence, if the Cerberus Assembly had to worship a god, they'd worship Bane. But for the captain, it's less about revery and worship, and more about praying to someone you agree with when you feel the occasional need to pray.

I do genuinely hope that Laudna giving up Chetney's blade for him without consulting him will become a point of conflict, I'd love to see more of their dynamic play out.

Time to identify magic items! They got boots of speed (which are much different and marginally less powerful than the boots of haste). With a round of Rollies, Ashton gets them, and trades them to Chetney for the Ring of Temporal Salvation.

Ashton goes to talk to the navigator, and they're the only one who picks up on the fact that she can't see the fog. Ashton mentions how they think that the Bells Hells can do something, or refuse to do something, about what the gods are facing; and on the mention of the red moon, she says that she hasn't seen it in weeks, and that worries her. They play into the navigator's anger (she's the skeleton of a fire genasi, he notices, and she's angry; he knows anger), plays on her doubts, to get the information they need. Like they did with Percy, it's unclear whether Ashton actually believes that the gods deserve to die, or if they're playing up that sentiment to appeal to the person they're trying to get information from.

The rest of them head below decks, and find that it's freezing cold, too cold to sleep. Somewhere, there's a violin playing.

#critical role #note watches c3 #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 3 #critical role c3 #critical role liveblog

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southern-god1 · 1 year

Text

The Pale Rider

“And I looked and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.”

Revelations 6:8

The motorcycle rolled toward the bar, the headlight piercing the dark like a searchlight. The radio played an old song from the 1940s, “Dream A Little Dream of Me”, and the rider hummed along. The sleek pale green motorcycle slid to a halt, the music died, and gravel crunched under the rider’s boots as he walked to the door. He strode into the bar and took a seat at the counter, flagging down the bartender.

“Sazerac, with absinthe if you’ve got it, and Peyhcard’s bitters.”

His voice had a distinctive accent, something which drew the attention of the man beside him: a thin but cute local named Eric. Eric tried to look at the stranger without drawing too much attention: he was quite tall, handsome, and pleasingly scruffy. He wore a pair of jeans that showed off his ass and a pair of nice boots.

Taking a sip of his Sazerac, the stranger ‘s intense green eyes flicked over to glance at him through the corner of his eyes, as though feeling Eric’s gaze. He turned to face him, drink in hand.

“See something ya like, ma chere?”

The strangers accent clearly marked him as a New Orleanian, and he smiled. Eric’s palms got sweaty, and he nervously nodded.

“Um…uh, yeah. W-we don’t many people who can speak French in here.”

The stranger chuckled.

“Well now you have. What’s your name, you precious little thing?”

Eric’s cheeks turned beet red.

“I’m Eric, who are you?”

“My name is Rhett, ma chere. Rhett Delacroix, humbly at your service.”

He offered a mock bow, as best he could from the barstool, which made Eric laugh.

“Are you from New Orleans?”

Rhett’s response was sarcastic.

“Your certainly quick on the uptake. What gave me away? The accent? The French? Or my smoldering sex appeal? But yes, I am, my little snow bunny.”

Eric was immediately confused.

“Snow bunny?”

“It’s what we call those of you from up north. Think of it as a term of endearment.”

“What brings you up this way my…swamp gator?”

Rhett laughed aloud, amused by the awkward attempt at making an equivalent phrase.

“Ha-ha! I’m here on business. I know a guy, who knows a guy, who has something I want to buy. But enough about that…I’d like to get to know you better, my cute little snow bunny…can I buy you a drink?”

Cute? Eric beamed inside. Hot guys like Rhett hardly ever looked his way, let alone called him cute or offered to buy him a drink. He agreed.

After a few more drinks, Rhett suggested they go somewhere more private. Eric was too smitten -and slightly drunk- to disagree. Rhett headed toward his motorcycle, only for Eric to frown and complain that there was nowhere for him to sit. Rhett sighed and hopped in Eric’s car. It was a tight fit, and Rhett insisted on driving.

“But you don’t know where I live.”

“I know. We ain’t going where you live.”

“What?”

“Calm down little snow bunny - I told ya, I know a guy. Got me a nice motel room up the road."

Rhett set off driving, quickly changing the radio station from the news to the local country station. He drove until they reached a seedy motel, where Rhett was supposedly staying. He actually wasn’t, but Eric didn’t need to know that. He spied a vacant room, and with a quick, effortless little application of power, had conjured a skeleton key and unlocked it.

“Get on the bed and undress. I’ll be right there…”

Eric eagerly began to strip as Rhett strode into the bathroom. Rhett Delacroix, codename “Pale Rider" gazed at himself in the mirror for a moment, mentally preparing for what was about to happen. Fucking a snow bunny was hardly fun, but maybe this one would be different. He was looking forward to what was going to happen afterward more than the sex, in any case.

By the time he had pissed and washed up, Eric had already undressed and was posing in what he mistakenly assumed was a sexy pose. Rhett smirked and decided to assert himself as the one in charge of this little encounter. He growled out.

“Turn around. Your ass is mine.”

Eric seemed pleased by this dominant turn…that was good, since there was more of that to come. Rhett peeled off his jeans and boxers, tossing his shirt off onto a lamp, but left his boots on. In a flash, he was on top of Eric.

“Now, my little snow bunny…. you’ve never been with a real man before. This’ll probably hurt.”

He grinned and without further ado, began to mercilessly fuck Eric’s tight ass with his 9-inch cock. His scruffy chin rubbed against the back of Eric’s chin, his ear. Eric was clearly in pain, but also clearly enjoying this, moaning in a mix of pain and pleasure. Rhett could sense his little fuckbuddy was already getting close. Damn this boy was pent up…and tight. He grinned and began to fuck harder, getting closer himself. He grinned and began to whisper in Eric’s ear.

“You love this don’t you? You like being used by a real man? Do you wanna feel this way every day? Give yourself up to me. Everything. Your love. Your soul. Your heart. Every. Fucking. Thing. Will you do that, my little snow bunny?”

He punctuated every period with another hard thrust, and he smirked as Eric let out a cry that was halfway between a cry and a yes, and came, staining the sheets with his cum. That was close enough to a yes for Rhett, and he came as well, filling Eric’s tight ass with a load of his hot, salty Southern cum. He immediately pulled out of Eric’s ass. He snapped his fingers and immediately he was clean and fully clothed again. Eric stared in confusion as he turned out, still groaning in the hazy afterglow of sex.

Eric was confused. How was Rhett dressed already. That was so fast.

“L-leaving already?”

“Yes, but don’t worry…we aren’t about to part ways just yet.”

Because Eric could ask what he meant, Rhett’s eyes - so briefly it must have been a trick of the light- flashed a blood red, a stainless white, and a brilliant blue, before returning to their normal color. His hand was doing something complex, rapidly moving. Eric was instantly frozen. He couldn’t move or make a sound. An intense heat began to build up in his chest, rapidly enveloping his entire body. Then he saw the knife in Rhett’s hand, something intricate and bearing strange icons engraved on the blade. Eric frantically screamed, but his screams only bounced around inside his skull.

“Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna kill ya…I’m hardly The Axeman, not like some of my friends who enjoy killing y’all. I think that’s pretty stupid. Waste of a good soul. No no, I’m just gonna extract and bind your soul. Now…just like I said before…this’ll probably hurt.”

With a smirk, Rhett strode around to behind Eric and with a single, obviously practiced motion, slit both of his carotids. Yet no blood flowed out, as it normally would. Eric felt something leave his body, and seemingly hover before Rhett - but he still felt his body, dimly.

Rhett’s eyes flashed again and with a few more hand gestures, Eric’s soul began to compress and thin out, becoming powdery, wrapped up in a white and brown bit of paper. Rhett reached out and let the cigarette fall into his waiting palm. Eric could see all this happening, feel himself hitting the warm palm, being plucked up by two fingers. With a smile, Rhett reached into his back pocket and pulled out an engraved cigarette case and tucked Eric in with several others. These were not just cigarettes -at least not the kind one casually smoked; if he wanted a smoke, he had a pack in his other pocket. No, these were special. Rhett’s more complex spells and magic sometimes required souls, or sacrifices. Quite simply, Yankees weren’t always around when you needed them, and the cleanup after a sacrifice was…just so tedious. By trapping their souls as cigarettes and smoking them into oblivion whenever a soul was needed, he bypassed the need for a direct sacrifice. Now…to deal with the body.

Despite being sealed in the darkness of the cigarette case, Eric still had a connection to his body, however faintly. He still felt the intense heat, still filling every inch of his body. Eric felt himself start to shrink, dimly seeing the hunky New Orleans stud seemingly grow bigger. His body began to feel strange. His tongue shot out, stretching over his head and turning brown, as his hair, stretched over his outstretched tongue, became long and stringy, tipped with little plastic aglets. Within seconds, his face began to flatten out, and his body began to contort, painfully, bones snapping before being remade. Everything grew dark, and he felt Rhett’s strong hands grab him and give a strong tug, yanking some part of him apart.

Rhett reached down and yanked the newly formed pair of boots apart, tearing apart the thin layer of leather still connecting the two new boots. He pulled them on and tied the laces that used to be Eric’s hair, his tongue now the tongue of the boots. He grinned and rubbed his foot into his face, now the sole. He took his first steps and Eric practically exploded in pain and pleasure; almost as though he was being fucked again. Rhett had offered to let him feel like that every day, and the two had agreed to a verbal contract. Rhett was a man of his word. He was especially happy he had tricked the Yankee into signing away his own soul. He strode out of the motel room, and with a snap of his fingers, erased any DNA or fingerprints, locking the door again and evaporating the cum. There was the roar of an engine as his motorcycle rolled up into the parking lot by itself.

Let’s see…DNA, fingerprints, cum…ah yes, the snow bunny’s stupid smart car was the only thing left to destroy. As he strode over to his bike, his eyes flashed as he casually shrank Eric’s smart car down to the size of a toy. He hopped on his bike and made sure to drive over the puny car, the bike tire completely obliterating it as he drove off. Rhett felt Eric vibrating with pleasure as he drove, and grinned. This had been a good night. Another soul cigarette ready for when he needed it, and a new pair of boots. He began to drive south. He had a party to get to; a fellow stud from New Orleans named Alexandre Frost was throwing a party and Rhett would rather hang than miss one of those parties. Maybe he’d call the rest of the team to make a surprise appearance, really make the party memorable. For now, he flicked on the radio and was pleased to hear Elvis. Heartbreak Hotel played softly as the Pale Rider headed south, vanishing into the night.

My first attempt at a story with the Southern Avengers! I decided to focus on Pale Rider, the team magician and occultist. He keeps Yankee souls in cigarettes as a convenient way of having souls ready for sacrificing at any time; though he's not averse to slitting a throat. I was going to include some more Lovecraftian influences, but I felt madness didn't exactly pair well with this story, which focuses on seduction and manipulation. Also a lot less direct domination here.

Frost, refrerenced at the end of the story, is one of the characters used by @idesofrevolution; he's an excellent TFer who helped me make Rhett a bit more authentic as a person from New Orleans; he introduced me to some stuff like "snow bunny" being used rather than Yankee. Go check out his stuff! Also, the Axeman is not a team member of the Southern Avengers, he's a New Orleans serial killer from 1918 who loved jazz. I figured I'd toss in another nod to New Orleans history while I was at it.

Hope y'all like it! I hope to potentially explore more of Rhett and his teammates later on! Comments and feedback are always appreciated.

#inanimate tf #southern avengers #pale rider #story

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nyaskitten · 4 months

Note

(Nya takes the covers off of a skeleton.)

Nya: Some villagers unearthed the remains of this Fangpyre a few miles away. It predates the Golden Age, and must be hundreds of years old. Although the venom in the fangs of the Fangpyre genetically mutate human cells into reptilian, I've learned there could be a way to stop the effects without having to create an antivenom. (Zane is shown taking notes while Kai is bored. Cole is drawing a picture of him fighting while Jay, sporting a new hairstyle, stares at Nya with an infatuated expression on his face.) If one is able to wildly raise their heart rate, hypothetically it could reverse the venom's effects. (Her cheeks turn pink.) Resulting in...diminished, uh, excuse me, is someone wearing perfume? I'm severely allergic to perfume.

Jay: Heh. (Whispers to Kai) You told me it was men's cologne.

Kai: Meh, I get them mixed up. (Everyone but Jay and Nya laughs. Zane turns his humor switch off.)

Cole: Ah, looks like class is over. Time to start stomping some Serpentine before they find any Fangblades.

Kai: Sounds like a plan.

Zane: I'm excited to join. (Jay waits for them to leave.)

Jay: Uh, hey uh, Nya, I'm sorry. The reason I was—you know—I went to Kai because—look. What I'm trying to say is—

Nya: I know. It's just a cruel joke. I should be fine. Please, go fight snakes.

Jay: No, no, no, no. I was trying to impress you. Before Sensei left, he said our heart was the key to unlocking our True Potential.

Nya: Impress me? But I look so...

Jay: Fantastic. (Nya begins playing with her hair.) Look, maybe, if you'll let me, I can take you to some big fancy restaurant. You don't have to, if you don't want to...

Nya: You mean like a date?

Jay: Um, yeah?

Nya: Sure! I'd love to. But I have to go now before the perfume toxins enter my bloodstream and I go into shock. See you tonight. (She leaves.)

Jay: Yes! (Laughs, and accidentally pricks himself on the skeleton.) Ow! Aah! Man. (He leaves unaware of a trickle of venom dripping from the skeleton.)

(On the Mountain of Madness, Wu confronts Garmadon.)

Garmadon: Hello, brother. What took you so long? You brought the katana from our youth. Funny, you never had the courage to cross the temple wall, yet now you have the courage to come here.

Wu: Why have you come to this place of darkness?

Garmadon: A place as wicked as me? Don't you see? Here I feel at home. In Ninjago, I was physically unable to hold all four Spinjitzu Weapons. But here, dark magic has made me stronger and what was once impossible is now possible. (He reveals he now has four arms.)

Wu: You came here only to possess the Weapons of Spinjitzu?

Garmadon: Yes, brother, and I refuse to allow you or your petty ninja to stop me! (He summons four weapons to wield and starts attacking his brother.)

Wu: (He falls down in a pit of mud and tries to fend against the mud monsters.) Brother, I've not come here to—

Garmadon: You will pay for your visit. Mud monsters, converge! You don't belong here, old fool. You should've known better than to try to stop me.

Wu: (Struggling) I didn't come to stop you. I came to warn you. To tell you—your son's in danger! Aah!

Garmadon: Lloyd? (He pulls Wu out of the mud monsters.) What has Lloyd gotten himself into?

Wu: He has opened a can of worms I fear I will never be able to close.

Garmadon: You mean we will never be able to close. Get up. You can tell me more later. First, we need to return home. How did you find me?

Wu: Traveler's Tea. But I used it all and now have no way back.

Garmadon: There is only one way to return to Ninjago. But to get there, we must pass through the Mountain of Madness and it is a long and dangerous road ahead.

Wu: I wouldn't have it any other way.

Garmadon: We should leave. Before it really gets dark.

(The Serpentine dig their way aboveground just outside of Mega Monster Amusement Park.)

Skales: This is it, Pythor. The map leads us here. The first Fangblade. (He points to the park.) Maybe it's better to wait until dark, so we don't attract any unwanted attention from the ninja or Samurai.

Pythor: Oh, I have a feeling we'll fit right in.

(A kid runs away and screams.)

Employee: Hey, don't go.

Man: Excuse me. Would you mind if my family takes a picture with you?

Woman: Your costume is so authentic.

Pythor: Of course. Welcome to—to, uh (He looks at a sign.) Mega Monster Amusement Park!

Skales: Say cheese.

All: Cheese!

(At the Destiny's Bounty, Jay is getting ready for the date.)

Jay: Did I ever tell you I was the first one to learn Spinjitzu? No, I mean, uh, I invented Spinjitzu. Yeah, that's it. And i invented a few other moves, like the karate double chop. Hyah! (He looks at his hand, which has formed green scales.) No! No, no, no. The prick from the Fangpyre fang! Oh, no. This isn't happening. No, it's nothing. It's just a rash. It'll probably just go away. You're gonna do great, Jay. This is your chance to shine. Hehe. (He goes to the bridge wearing gloves.)

Cole: Whoa, where are you going, Mr. Fancy?

Jay: Didn't you hear? I'm taking Nya to a nice restaurant. A really nice restaurant.

Kai: You might wanna change your plans. The bridge just picked up evidence of Serpentine activity over at Mega Monster Amusement Park. (The monitor shows a photo of Serpentine in the park.l

Jay: Hey, that's Pythor.

Zane: Pythor would not be there for fun. We believe a Fangblade may be buried underneath the park.

Jay: We can't let them get it! Oh, but my date...

Kai: Jay, if they get all four of them, Pythor can unleash the Great Devourer. Get your priorities straight, man.

(Jay gets an idea and goes knock on Nya's door just after she comes in as Samurai X.)

Nya: Huh?

Jay: (opening the door) Uh, Nya, you there? (Nya slams the door.) Argh!

Nya: Don't come in! I'm getting ready.

Jay: Well, um—I just wanna talk to you about our date. You know, I'm hearing really bad reviews for the restaurant and I just...

Nya: (Her bracelet projects a map.) Serpentine spotted at Mega Monster Amusement Park?

Jay: You know, I think we should cancel.

Nya: (She opens the door.) Oh, you're canceling?

Jay: No, no. I just wanted to know if you would rather go to the Mega Monster Amusement Park instead.

Nya: Really? That would be perfect! But aren't you overdressed? (Nya gasps when she sees her Samurai helmet in view.)

Jay: Well, yeah. Of course, I need to change— (Nya kicks the helmet.) What was that?

Nya: Nothing! You know what? I'll dress up too. Looks fun.

Jay: Hey, I was thinking, you know, we'd take my Storm Glider there.

Nya: Sounds like fun. (She comes from behind a changing screen in a sequined dress which stuns Jay before he smiles.) I'm in your hands. (They take off.)

(Wu and Garmadon follows a path that leads to the Mountain of Madness.)

Garmadon: So, what kind of trouble has Lloyd gotten himself into?

Wu: Well, I'm afraid to say, the worst kind. He's reopened the Serpentine tombs, and now that they have united, Pythor is trying to find the Four Silver Fangblades to unleash the Great Devourer.

Garmadon: The very snake that turned me evil?

Wu: Yes.

Garmadon: Why would Lloyd open the tombs?

Wu: To be like you.

Garmadon: I never wanted him to. Thank you for watching out for him.

Wu: You may think of me as your enemy, but I was first your brother.

(Jay and Nya arrived at a restaurant in Mega Monster.)

Jay: Yeah, even when I was young, it was clear I was born and bred for adventure. I was the first one to get my knot badge in Little Scouts. I was always trying daring foods. I once built these wings from scrap metal and other—uh, you okay? You seem kind of distant.

Nya: Uh, yeah. It's just the portions are so big. And to think we split our dish.

Jay: Heh. So that Samurai. Oh, man. I hate him, don't you? He's such a showboat, you know? If you ask me, he's nothing without his big, clunky exo-suit.

Nya: Oh.

Jay: Yeah. Nothing can compare to two good old fashioned feet and fists, don't you think?

Nya: Yeah, sure.

Jay: You know, sssomebody once told me... (He gasps and looks at his reflection in a spoon. He realizes he has fangs.)

Nya: You okay?

Jay: Excusse me. I have to use the resstroom. (He enters the restroom and discovers he's turning green before removing his glove and seeing his hand in the same condition.) Oh, gosh. I'm turning into a snake! (A man tries to enter the restroom.) I'm busy, dude! Can't you see it's taken? I can't go out there looking like this. This is the worst date ever!

(Meanwhile, a group of visitors is riding an attraction that is meant to be scary.)

Man: Ha! Lame! This ride is stupid. (He sees the Serpentine digging.) Heh, look how stupid this guy looks. (He and the others were sprayed with Venomari venom.) Get me off this thing! Mommy!

Kai: Where is everybody? (They see the riders scream and run out of the attraction.)

Cole: Wait a minute, that ride was never scary.

Zane: Venomari.

Kai: Should we get Jay?

Cole: Let's not bother the two lovebirds. I think we can handle this.

Kai: Excuse us, coming through.

Cole: Nothing to look at, folks.

Zane: This is official ninja business.

(Jay still hasn't come back from the restroom and Nya is worried.)

Nya: (Sighs) Sorry, Jay. Duty calls. (She leaves the booth.)

Jay: Huh, you don't look so bad. Just go out there and tell her the truth. (He feels something on his back and turns around.) Ah! I have a tail! No, no, it's okay, Jay. Lots of girls like tails. (He goes back to their table.) She left? Nya?

Man: Snake! (Everyone surrounds him.)

Jay No! Stop! You don't understand!

(Nya gets in her Mech. Meanwhile, the Serpentine uncovers the Fangblade.)

Pythor: Ah. (Laughs) The first fangblade is ours!

(The Sword of Fire is shown igniting as Kai, Cole and Zane arrive.)

Kai: Not so fast.

Cole: Really? That's the best you got?

Kai: I couldn't think of anything on the fly.

Cole: How about "Time to burn" or "Jump on this fire ride?"

Kai: Well, next time, you lead.

Cole: Next time I will.

Kai: Oh, yeah? If you can catch up.

Cole: Oh, come on. You gotta follow my lead. (They attack the Serpentine.)

Man: Ninjas? Ninjas aren't scary.

Zane: Watch and learn, brothers. (He uses his True Potential, but accidentally freezes his teammates.) Oops.

Pythor: (Everyone laughs and runs away, but Nya uses her Mech to steal the Fangblade.) Stop him!

Nya: (tries to fly off but can't) Thruster malfunction. (She runs away but the snakes eventually tackle her.)

Pythor: Finally, the mystery man is revealed. (Everyone gasps when her helmet is taken off.) Or should I have said mystery girl? Who's gonna save you now, hmm?

(The crowd is still hitting Jay.)

Jay: Ow! (He crawls out, heads to the restroom, and conceals himself with his scarf.) Do not go in there. He bites. This is not dinner theater, people. It's real! Arm yourselves. (He runs outside.) Nya! Where is she? (He sees a group of snakes.) Hey! (The Serpentine laugh at him when they see his tail.)

Pythor: Oh, what happened? Snake bite your tongue?

Nya: (Tied on a roller coaster train) Jay! Help!

Pythor: (Signals for Bytar to turn it on) Later, alligator. Let's go, boys.

(Jay gets on the ride.)

Nya: What happened to you?

Jay: What happened to you? (He spots a ring of fire and broken tracks ahead.) Unh, we have to get you out of here.

Nya: (seeing his tail) Were you bit? Take off your head scarf.

Jay: I prefer not. I was meaning to tell you, but I didn't want it to ruin the date.

Nya: Oh, that's so sweet. Hey, you were the first in your 'Lil Scouts group to get your knot badge, right?

Jay: Yeah, about that, I made that up just so I could impress you. I was never in 'Lil Scouts.

Nya: You weren't? Hold on.

Jay: What? You have an idea?

Nya: No, hold on! (They ride down a slope and Jay's scarf comes undone.)

Jay: Aah! Don't look at me! I'm a monster. Though I hate the Samurai, where is he when you actually need him? Samurai! Help! Help! Samurai!

Nya: Jay, I don't think the Samurai is coming.

Jay: Why?

Nya: I know this might not be the best time, but I haven't been totally honest either.

Jay: What is it?

Nya: I...I'm the Samurai!

Jay: You're the Samurai!? Aah! We're running out of track.

Nya: Jay, if anything horrible were to happen, I want you to know that you don't have to wear cologne or pretend to be anything that you're not. Because I like you best when you're you. (She kisses him and he turns back to human.) Your face. You're returning back to normal.

Jay: It's just like you said. You must have raised my heart rate.

Nya: Whatever happens next, just remember, you are the best you. (Jay stands up as his Nunchucks begin to surge with more power than before.) What's happening?

Jay: My True Potential. (He turns into pure electricity and stops the train before it reaches the ring of fire.)

(The ninja meet up at the Park's entrance.)

Zane: You really had me fooled. I never guessed you were the Samurai.

Cole: I wished I had a sister like you.

Kai: Technically, I was the first to discover her secret, and didn't we agree whoever we thought was the best would naturally be the Green Ninja? Huh? The Green Ninja! The destined ninja to defeat Lord Garmadon, huh?

Jay: Why would we say that?

Cole: Yeah, I'm drawing a blank.

Zane: Nope. That conversation is not in my database.

Jay: You know what I learned today?

Nya: What's that?

Jay: No matter what kind of secret you have, whether you're a snake or a samurai, it's important to be yourself.

Cole: Yeah, that's cute, but you wanna know what I learned? The Serpentine now have the first Fangblade.

Zane: But we are getting stronger. One day, we will all reach our True Potential and Pythor will be stopped.

Jay: And we figured out all this without Sensei. Pretty good for four ninja. (Nya punches him.) And a Samurai.

Kai: I wonder what Sensei is doing now.

(Garmadon and Wu reached the base of the mountain.)

Garmadon: We're here. The Mountain of Madness.

Wu: The only way back to Ninjago is up there?

Garmadon: The worst is yet to come. (They start ascending the mountain.)

I AINT READING ALLLAAAAATTT ANON I HATE YOU.

#/lh #ninjago #anon asks #raine's shitposting

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alastairstom · 1 year

Text

evermore songs as tlh characters/ships

I saw someone do this for Folklore and Evermore's my favourite album, so...

sorry nbnc isn't included i just had no idea what to do with it lol

willow -> thomas @ alastair

Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark Show me the places where the others gave you scars Now this is an open-shut case Guess I should've known from the look on your face Every bait and switch was a work of art

champagne problems -> james @ cordelia + matthew

[He'll] patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems

gold rush -> matthew

What must it be like To grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes My mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore At dinner parties Won't call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town We never found will never See a love as pure as it

tis the damn season -> anna @ ari

Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends Who'll write books about me, if I ever make it And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm fakin' And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own

tolerate it -> alastair @ charles

honestly this one is too fitting it was so hard to choose a quote but--

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome I take your indiscretions all in good fun I sit and listen, I polish plates until they gleam and glisten You're so much older and wiser and I...

happiness -> matthew @ cordelia

After giving you the best I had Tell me what to give after that All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness You haven't met the new me yet And I think [he'll] give you that

dorothea -> ari @ anna

It's never too late To come back to my side The stars in your eyes Shined brighter in Tupelo And if you're ever tired of being known For who you know You know, you'll always know me

coney island -> james @ cordelia

Did I close my fist around something delicate? Did I shatter you? And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island Wondering, "Where did my baby go?" The fast times, the bright lights, the merry-go Sorry for not making you my centerfold

ivy -> alastair @ thomas while in paris

Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you

cowboy like me -> ari @ anna

And the skeletons in both our closets Plotted hard to mess this up And the old men that I've swindled Really did believe I was the one And the ladies lunching have their stories about When you passed through town But that was all before I locked it down

long story short -> matthew

I always felt I must look better in the rear view Missing me At the golden gates they once held the keys to When I dropped my sword I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door And we live in peace But if someone comes at us This time, I'm ready

marjorie -> grace @ christopher (😭)

I should've asked you questions I should've asked you how to be Asked you to write it down for me Should've kept every grocery store receipt 'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me Watched as you signed your name Marjorie All your closets of backlogged dreams And how you left them all to me

closure -> alastair @ charles after the end of chog

Yes, I got your letter Yes, I'm doing better It cut deep to know ya Right to the bone Yes, I got your letter Yes, I'm doing better I know that it's over I don't need your closure

evermore -> cordelia @ james

And I was catching my breath Floors of a cabin creaking under my step And I couldn't be sure I had a feeling so peculiar This pain wouldn't be for Evermore

right where you left me -> grace

I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

it's time to go -> matthew at the end of chot

Sometimes giving up is the strong thing Sometimes to run is the brave thing Sometimes walking out is the one thing That will find you the right thing That will find you the right thing And you know in your soul And you know in your soul When it's time to go

#evermore #taylor swift #the last hours #tlh #matthew fairchild #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #anna lightwood #ari bridgestock #arianna #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #jordelia #herondaisy #grace blackthorn #christopher lightwood #gracetopher

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paradoxcase · 11 months

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Chapter 2 and 3 of Gideon the Ninth:

Harrow: 2

Gideon: 0

Are we supposed to be rooting for Harrow? I am rooting for Harrow. No shade to Gideon, she is easy to empathize with and morally in the right, and much funnier, but watching Gideon successfully run away to be in the military sounds hella boring while watching Harrow outsmart Gideon in the most dramatic way possible is Quality Entertainment

Like, she knew Gideon was escaping a week ahead of time. She could have put a stop to it with absolutely minimal drama, but instead she waited until the last day and spent all night burying bones so that she could stop it with a cool necromancy thing instead. And even then, she didn't have to do the whole thing of making Gideon an offer she couldn't refuse, and then being like "fight me bitch", she could have literally just showed up and necromanced all of the skeletons to beat up Gideon without actually making a show of it, but instead she played out this whole drama just to fuck with Gideon

This is some Homestuck-style epic black romance shit right here

I just want to call this out:

Dude, this is after you spent the whole night burying bones just so you could own Gideon

Also, paper is apparently extremely valuable? Is it just because Pluto isn't a great place to grow trees, or is there some other reason?

Also, Harrow wearing an actual human ribcage as some sort of ornamentation is just... we are really cranking up the necromancy aesthetic, aren't we?

On the subject of the actual plot, this seems to be the timeline:

16 years ago: 198 children and I gather also a lot of the non-imprisoned population of Pluto go missing, or die, or something, for some reason

7 years ago: Harrow's parents kill themselves, are found by Gideon, and Harrow reanimates them weekend-at-Bernie's style

and it's the latter and not the former that is the Dreadful Secret that Harrow doesn't want Gideon to tell anyone about. In an ordinary feudalism context, since Harrow is the heir, there'd be no real issue with 10-year-old Harrow taking over after the deaths of her parents, modulo a regency. But it seems like the people who would have been in a position to be the regent went along with Harrow's plan and helped her cover it up, so there must have been some other reason why this would be Bad for Harrow (or just Bad for everyone?) if someone found out about it, but so far there's been very little information on how shit works in this system, so I can't really guess what that might have been. And I still want to know what happened 16 years ago

(I don't know why I didn't expect some Weekend at Bernie's shenanigans, given that this book combines necromancy and Space Feudalism, that just seems like the natural intersection of those two ideas, really. Even the Golden Key did that, and that book wasn't even about necromancy.)

I'm also not sure why all of the other people in the Ninth House think Harrow's news is great? It doesn't seem like it really affects anyone except Harrow, Ortus, and his mom, unless they all also just really hate Harrow, but I don't get the feeling that that is the case. I wish Gideon would like, stop being a dumb jock for five minutes and devote some narrative to telling me what the actual political significance of all of these events are

#the locked tomb #gideon the ninth

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cas-skz · 1 year

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Behind Closed Doors: Skeleton Key part 2

Choi San x (Fem)Reader x Jung Wooyoung

New to BCD? Start here!

Skeleton Key Part 1

Series Summary: You and your Boss, San, have a rather interesting relationship. After a year of you being his favourite Hostess at a local club, he becomes your senior at your office, and now your boyfriend. Your relationship is going smoothly, that is until an old love reemerges into your life. You'll now need to balance work, your new love and your old love.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings/Tags: Fluff

Written By: @littleforeignaffairs

Sunday dragged on. San took the day to himself to deal with jetlag and a hangover. You are somewhat thankful for it, though you really wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend after him being gone for so long.

Everybody hates Mondays. The start of the work week is a struggle in general. This morning, had a specially invested hatred. San didn't pick you up this particular morning. With new project partners, he wanted to be in the office earlier.

As you exit the elevator, you see San sitting at his desk through glass walls. He looks between paper booklets, his lips puckered into that perma pout. Your chest fills with warmth as you admire him. You smile, continuing on to your rightful place: the desk outside his office.

You choose to leave San to focus, but he comes to greet you shortly after your arrival. His strong arms wrap around your body as he leans down into you. He buries his face in your neck, breathing in your scent. He sighs quietly, giving you a slight squeeze.

"I missed you” He murmurs, sneaking a kiss on your skin.

You raise your shoulder against your neck, trying to block it.

“San” You scold, quietly.

He chuckles, spinning your chair, turning you to face him. He grips the arms of the chair, leaning in front of you. He cocks a brow, glancing down to your lips, licking his own.

“I'm dying to get you home” He whispers.

You slap San in the chest, he laughs again. Your attention it's caught by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You and San look, seeing Wooyoung, holding a tray of coffee. Your face burns. This is the second time he's caught you two so close.

San stands up straight, shoving his hands in his pockets. Wooyoung walks over to your desk, placing one coffee in front of you. Another he holds out to San. You look down, Large half sweet caramel macchiato. Your stomach twists. The fact Wooyoung has remembered your favorite caffeinated drink is trivial. You look to him, nodding once to thank him.

San beckons Woo to follow him into his office. San begins discussing the pamphlets to Wooyoung that he was previously looking through. You bring the cup to your lips, taking a small drink. You look into the office, seeing Wooyoung watching you. He’s smiling, happy that you've accepted the drink he bought. Your cheeks feel warm, genuinely smiling back at him. Wooyoung’s cheeks flush as well. He breaks eye contact, now focusing on San.

You hate it.

The fact that Wooyoung is making you feel like this. His smile still creating butterflies in your stomach like when you were kids. You breathe out heavily, puffing your cheeks. You do your best to convince yourself that these feelings will dissipate after a short time. That it’s only because You and Wooyoung were so serious, and it’s the first time you’re reuniting in 10 years.

You have San now. He’s good to you. He’s smart, successful and annoyingly handsome. You cast your gaze to your boyfriend. He and Wooyoung are laughing. San’s eyes disappear as he grins widely, dimples poking his cheeks. You chew at your bottom lip, smiling at the sight of him. You know how you feel about San, and how you’ve felt about him for awhile now.

San is your present. Hopefully, your future. Wooyoung is your past. A love that should stay in the past. A love that he messed up, for whatever reason, he still never explained to you.

It takes a moment for you to realize San waving you over. You blink, shaking your head a little. Focusing yourself back into reality. You walk into his office, standing in front of his desk.

"What do you need, Mr. Choi”

Woo raises his brows a little at your professionalism. He has a smug grin on his face, which you do your best to make no comment about. San beckons you with two fingers

You nod once, walking around the desk. You position yourself between the two men. You place your hands on San’s desk, leaning on it to read. Your eyes narrow, face pulling as you skim the document.

“Mmmm” You point to a section “It all looks fine, though I personally would check this again. There's nothing wrong with it. But it could be done better...”

San leans over a bit to see what section you’re referring to. A hand lands at your lower back. You press your lips together, looking to San. But both his hands are in sight.

You straighten up quickly, bumping into Wooyoung, who had been hovering over you. Both his hands land on your waist now, stabilizing you.

“Sorry” He starts, “I just wanted to see too”

San looks up at the two of you, your hands swatting Wooyoung’s away. You give him a warning look before smiling.

“Nothing to worry about, Mr. Jung. It was merely an accident”

Wooyoung’s lips part slightly. He doesn’t respond right away, though his eyes are stuck to you.

“You don’t have to call me that” He murmurs. “Wooyoung is fine” His voice is low. He actually sounds like he enjoyed being called that. His eyes look you over.

San clears his throat dramatically. You smile, lips pressed tightly together.

"We’re in the office. I prefer if we keep things as professional as possible”

That was a blatant lie.

Seeing how you’re in a relationship with the man at your other side. And have fucked in his old office on multiple occasions.

“If that’s all, I’ll go back to my desk and let you two continue”

You walk behind San, placing your hand in his shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. Wooyoung watches you as you walk away. You wanted him to see you touch San. You want to set boundaries and be firm with him. What happened Saturday night in Woo’s car, was a fluke. Emotions were running high. That’s all it was.

Right?

You smooth your skirt, sitting back at your desk. You can see in your peripherals, Wooyoung is still looking at you. You’re going to have to continue to build your walls up. He cannot break them down again.

The two men worked together closely today, leaving you alone to wrap up loose ends on what they’ve worked on. Though San never paged you, you often brought refreshments for them and take out menus for lunch. Tending to San as you often do. And each time you walked into that office, Wooyoung was the first to look at you, the last to look away.

Evening rolls in, everyone losing track of time. You cover your mouth, stifling a yawn as the men exit San’s office. You’ve only seen them interact today and at the club, But they seem rather good friends. They’re comfortable with eachother, speaking casually and laughing.

Once again, Wooyoung is the first to look at you. But your eyes are on San.

“Do you always stay this late” Wooyoung questions. You look to him, cheeks burning

“Oh. Well. I’m Mr Choi’s personal assistant… So”

“I usually drive her” San looks at Woo, getting quite close to you.

His arm slips around your lower back. You nod as San speaks. Wooyoung nods slowly, looking between you two

“Ah. Well, if you ever need a ride and don’t feel like waiting for this guy” Wooyoung flashes San a grin.

Though, San doesn’t find it funny. His eyes sharpen their gaze. You feel his fingers press into your body, subtly pulling you closer. You allow him to hold onto you, sending Wooyoung the clear sign to back off. You smile at Wooyoung, shaking your head a little.

“Really, Woo, it’s not necessary. Part of my job is to be around if Mr. Choi needs anything”

Wooyoung looks to the ground as he nods. He accepts defeat, this time. He raises a hand in a waving gesture before leaving you two alone. San pulls at you again, holding your body firmly against him. His free hand cradles the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. San steals a kiss from you. One with hunger. Desire.

Your body weakens at his touch. It’s been over a week since you had time together. Real alone time. Your lips curve into a smile, hands resting on San’s firm chest. You grip hold of the collar of his shirt, keeping him on you, as he did for you. A groan vibrates in San’s throat.

As if San can read your body, you hop up onto him, both his hands holding you up by your ass. You touch your forehead to his, breaking the kiss. San opens his eyes to look at you.

“Take me home first” You say, before San can get any ideas himself. He laughs an airy laugh, nudging his nose over yours.

Stumbling in to San’s place, you feel like a teenager. Both yours and his lips work against each other eagerly. Your hands pull at his tie, loosening it. You pull your lips from his, only for a moment, to pull the tie over his head. San picks you up, your legs wrapping tightly around his slim waist. Sometimes you think you would break the man. His build is so slender; but when he bares all, he’s full of muscle.

Your fingers quickly work the buttons of his shirt, revealing his chest. San walks you both to his bedroom, setting you down gently onto his bed. He hovers over you, pulling his shirt off his body. You sit up, running your hands over his chest. The once lustful look in San’s eyes, is now replaced with calmness. Tenderness.

You smile softly at him, your hands continue up his body, cupping his face. San holds your hand on his cheek. He closes his eyes, leaning his face into your hand. He sighs softly, placing a few long kisses on your wrist. San slides his free hand around your waist. He pulls you into him, as he falls down onto the bed.

You laugh lightly, partially landing on San, and partially the bed. He holds you tightly, his face buried into your neck. You run your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

“Can we just stay like this tonight” San murmurs into your skin You place a kiss on the top of San’s head, nodding.

“Of course”

Exhaustion overwhelms you. San must have felt the same. It didn’t take long for you to notice the change in San’s breathing, now quiet deep breaths. You tighten your arms around him, letting your eyes become heavy. Soon falling asleep.

#au ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #au choi san #san fic #choi san fanfiction #san fluff #san x reader #choi san x reader #au choi san fluff #choi san fanfic #jung wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x y/n #au jung wooyoung #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #littleforeignaffairs

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