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pingguins · 2 years

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What Can You Lose? | Prologue

Tommyinnit x Reader

Words: 3,671

Warnings: Swearing

Synopsis: Sometimes, a quiet night at the beach is all someone needs to calm the mind. But no one mentioned anything about the vulgar loud-mouth who likes to hang out by the ocean.

A/N: So, this story is actually a rewrite of 'In The Pale Moonlight' by sutosomi on Wattpad. It ended up drifting from the story more than I expected it to, but the plot is still inspired by that fic. So thank you to the original author for giving me the inspiration to write this! And yes, I did ask permission from them if I could rewrite their story. It's never good to steal someone's plot, folks!

P.S the title is a song that I also took inspiration from. I recommend you give it a listen. It was written by the great Stephen Sondheim, so you can expect it to be good XP

'It's All Futile! It's All Pointless!' by Lovejoy was playing. I was only wearing one earbud as the other was loosely tossed over my shoulder, my hands were tucked inside my coat pockets while I mindlessly walked up to the front of our house.

As I opened the door, the fact that my mother was cooking my favourite food became apparent to me. The smell and the sounds coming from the kitchen lighting up my mood as I closed the door and called her.

"You're home! How was school?" she asked, turning off the stove. She walked over to me with her arms open wide. I hugged her, humming as I shrugged. She pulled away at arms-length, with her hands still gently placed on my shoulders. “Not good?” she cringed; her eyes sympathetic.

"Not particularly, but it's better now!" I gestured to the kitchen. I can feel my stomach growling just by the thought of being able to eat my favourite meal.

She chuckled, removing her apron as she pulled out a chair for me. "If you think school wasn't good today, don’t expect it to be good moving forward. The food is just to prepare you for that," she teased, making me roll my eyes with a pained groan.

She’s right; I don’t doubt it. It might have been boring today, but as the school year progresses, the workload would pile up and probably I wouldn’t even have time to get bored.

The table was already set, all she needed to do was prepare the meal. She handed me my plate and I practically inhaled all the food before my mum could sit down and eat with me.

I hadn't realized I’d finished eating already, giving her a nervous smile once she's settled in her seat. Normally, I’d wait for her to sit down so we could eat together. "It's okay. Eat, then rest up. You don't have to wait for me, you must be exhausted!"

I sighed in relief. "Thank you, you're the best!" I hugged her quickly, standing up and giving her a kiss on her head before I ran up to my room, crashing onto my bed. Only then did I realize that I never took my one earphone off, and that Spotify was playing a completely different song that I wasn’t familiar with.

Luckily, the first day of school meant no homework. So, I opened, Discord, messaging my cousin as I craved some valuable use of my time before school inevitably takes it away from me.

Hey, wanna play Minecraft? I'm bored af .-.

I dropped the phone beside me, staring at the ceiling before closing my eyes. I wasn't sure he'd reply immediately, so maybe I could sneak in a nap.

Ping.

Or maybe not.

I'm streaming. So, if you want to be in the stream, sure. I pity your boredom.

Instead of replying, I opened my laptop and pulled up his stream, donating a five and typing up a message.

I don't want your pity, I need entertainment! I thought that's what this stream is supposed to be, hmm?

“Y/N! Join the stream!" he yelled through his laughing fits. He adjusted his glasses, phone in hand as he typed something out of the audiences’ view.

Per usual, chat went crazy at the mention of a girl’s name. Most of the messages consisted of “who’s Y/N?!” and “Is she your girlfriend?!”

Noticing this, he stopped typing, scrunching his face in disgust. “Ew, chat! Y/N’s my cousin, relax!” He exaggerated a shiver before sending his text.

Join the stream! Chat's gonna love you!

I smile to myself, shaking my head ‘no’ even though I knew he couldn't see. This was probably the hundredth time he asked me to join one of his streams. I always say no and still he kept asking.

"Join the stream, Y/N!" I heard him yell again, slightly louder this time. "Y/N, my dear, amazing, lovable— and dare I say, best—cousin. Join the stream! Come on, you never join!"

I laughed audibly at his words, donating another five. Just take my money and shut up. Flattery doesn't look good on you "dear cousin". Ew.

There was another set of laughter after he read my message, continuing to try and convince me to join, which obviously didn't work. I truly had no interest in being in his stream.

I played Minecraft, yes, but I'd never taken interest in streaming. Nothing against it, I wouldn't mind doing it, actually. It was mostly because I just simply had no cause or motivation to. On my own, I wouldn’t mind. But this stream? With thousands of people watching? No.

He wasn't asking me to join the game, just the stream. But I still wouldn't know what to do if I did, so I thought it best to opt out every time.

"Y/N if you don't join the stream I will march into your house right now," he threatened, knowing well he wouldn’t go through with it.

He was particularly pushy today for some reason, the smirk on his face telling me he had something planned, which only made me want to avoid joining even more. This was live, if he thought it was a good idea to make fun of me in front of thousands of people, I wouldn't be able to edit anything out.

If you march into my house right now I will not hesitate to leave you to edit your future videos on your own, I typed in the chat.

"Not fair! I just wanted to introduce you to someone!" he said.

Introduce me when I wouldn't be vulnerable to be made fun of in front of an audience XP

"You're no fun, Y/N," he pouted, telling someone in the stream that the plan was off. I furrowed my eyes at this. So, he was planning something! I guess I just dodged a bullet there.

"Awe, I guess we're not seeing the child embarrass himself in front of a girl today," another voice said.

"Well…it would be better to see it in real life," he answered, a smirk still evident on his face as he looked directly into the camera.

This piqued my interest, and also made me slightly paranoid. He’s acting suspicious; he knows what he’s doing. For all I know this was another practical joke. And if he got his friends into it, he’s probably planning something serious.

I trusted him, sure. But as the younger cousin, I usually ended up being the butt of the joke. Not in a bad way; he usually knows where the line is and not to cross is. I’m probably being too anxious, but with enough thought, I clicked the Discord link he’s sent me a while ago and entered their VC. “Wilbur! I swear to God if you're planning one of your pranks again I will march into your house and throw my shoe at you."

There were collective cheers in the call, none of the people were familiar to me except for Will. At least, not personally. Will’s told me a bit about them. Ranboo, Tubbo, Tommy, oh and Niki! She wasn’t in the call though, unfortunately. Turns out most of them were waiting for when I’d finally join the Discord group.

Out of all of them, though, Niki’s the only one on Will’s YouTuber friends that I’ve met personally and whom I love very much.

"You joined too late, Y/N. The child already left," he pouted. "Guess I'll have to set you up another time," Wilbur smirked.

I scoffed. "The last time you "set me up" it was with a guy who you knew would talk my ear off about how we'd be an unfit couple because of our Zodiac signs." I shivered at the memory, feeling bad for myself that I had to sit through 2 hours at a coffee shop only to hear all about clashing personalities and relationship dynamics according to Astrology.

"Wait, what?!" the guy from before yelled. I realized this was Ranboo, as I saw a green ring light up around his profile in the Discord VC. Without answering, I left the call, wanting to leave an air of mystery as to how that date went.

I considered looking through their old chats; I'd save it for next time though. What could be so interesting about the group chat of a bunch of streamers? Millions of people would pay their entire bank account to even get a glimpse, which I get, in a way. But I've known these guys for ages now. Not personally, just through Will.

Be it directly or indirectly, being close to someone who's got millions of supporters and followers dampens the feeling of fanaticism. It makes you realise that they're also just humans doing what they love to do.

Maybe I'd consider streaming—maybe. Wilbur said he'd help if I wanted to; introduce me to his friends and whatnot. Regardless of streaming, he's always wanted to introduce me; I would just always find a way to postpone it. It just felt like it was more of his thing, you know? That's his group of friends from his streaming community and their SMP.

Part of me didn't want to impose. I didn't mind whether or not I met them, though. With Wilbur's persistence at getting me to join one of his streams, I probably would soon. I was already in their Discord group, pretty soon I’ll probably give in to Wilbur’s pestering about properly introducing myself to his group of friends.

Ping!

Please tell me you'd join the next stream. Chat wants to meet you!

I rolled my eyes.

And if I don't want to meet "chat"?

Then I'd call in that solid you owe me.

Fuck. I forgot about that.

...then I guess I don't really have a choice. Just tell me when your next stream is and I'll go there.

HA! YES! (you don’t really have to go if you’re uncomfy tho)

hmph. I know. but you know I can't say no to you. Your music's too good.

Flattery doesn't look good on you, either, cousin dear.

I don’t need to flatter you. If I owe you, then I owe you. It only means I’m telling you the truth, Wilbur dear.

With a satisfied sigh, I exited our messages. It was already pretty late, considering the stream lasted a while. It was pitch black outside, nothing but the Brighton lights to guide you.

It was less polluted here than London, and since it was close to a beach, the air was good, too. Great for the asthma—maybe that's why Wilbur likes it here so much.

After the stream, with nothing much to do, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to go down to the shore. It would be pretty dark, but if there aren’t too many clouds today, the street lights may just be enough to help me get there safely

I put on my oversized hoodie to combat the cold and hoped that my leggings would be thick enough since they were really comfortable. Mum would be deep in sleep right now, so I didn't bother waking her up.

I was allowed to go to the beach; she knew how much I loved it there. As long as I left her a text message that I would go—which I did—I could go. I went out quietly, slowly shutting doors and walking on pointed toes.

* * *

Thankfully the beach wasn't so far from here, and the streets were mostly silent. Only a few people here and there. Some appeared to be going home from work and some were like me; just taking a stroll to calm the mind. The moon shone bright and barely covered by clouds, which usually wasn't the case.

It added light to the view, making it a little more beautiful than it already was; especially the beach. With the moon sitting just on top of the horizon, I wish I brought a good camera with me. My phone won't do this any justice.

Other than the sand, the moon, and the ever-so present ocean breeze, there was a figure of someone close to the water. They were sitting, doing nothing. No phone light, even, which to be honest, surprised me.

Most people would hangout by the shore only to take pictures or use their phones. I rarely saw people on the beach without using some type of gadget.

Just from the silhouette of this person though, they seem to be doing fine enjoying the view.

I guess it's not just me.

I pulled my hood up, hoping to be more discreet as I sat just a few feet away from them. I hoped the hoodie would send a message that I didn't want to be bothered.

"Until now I'm the only one who's usually out here this late."

And now the silence is broken. I nod my head, looking at them. From their silhouette, they seemed to be a guy. Shadows covered their face, though, and I assumed mine was, too. "Well, if you're here often then you should get used to seeing me. I like it here."

For a moment he just looked at me— well, their head was turned to my direction, so I can only assume. "You-you're a...fe..male. You're a female," they stuttered. Yep, definitely a guy. There was a slight gulp there that I heard, most of it being drowned out by the waves.

"Yes...?" I answered, not quite sure why he would be so perplexed.

"Woman, the way you dress makes you look like a man," he snarked. Woah, what a complete 180 from his previous, shy-sounding attitude.

I scoffed. "Yeah, and your mouth makes you sound like a misogynist." I rolled my eyes, though I knew he couldn't see me. "To counter that, maybe you should smile more," I smirked as he dramatically gasps.

"What's your name?"

"Can't tell strangers my name," I shrugged, only trying to annoy him.

"You insulted me and you won't even give me your name?"

"I don't owe you anything, dipshit."

"Bitch," he mumbled, making my eyes widen at him. Though he couldn't see, I was pretty sure he could somehow sense the tension increase. "Wait—sorry— I didn't mean—"

"Asshole," I laughed, interrupting him since he kept stumbling. I suppose I should just shut him up for his own good before he embarrassed himself completely...again.

It was easy like this. Talking to a stranger felt safe, ironically. They don't expect anything from you, and they don't know anything about you, so they can't judge either.

He sat still; I could almost imagine his face scrunched up slightly in thought despite not knowing what he looked like. "uhhh...do you play Minecraft?"

A loud laugh made its way out of my mouth before I could stop it—this guy had no socialization skills.

"Sorry, sorry!" he held his hands up, chuckling. "I dunno how to start conversations, okay?"

I took deep breaths in, trying to calm myself down. "Judging by how awkward you got earlier, I think you saying 'I don't know how to start conversations with a female' is more accurate....and yes I do play Minecraft."

"POG— do you stream??"

Though I wanted to point out how he blatantly ignored the first part of my sentence, I decided to give him some mercy. Minecraft, streaming, the enthusiasm for both—this guy was basically Will. Of course, he wouldn't know how to talk to a girl.

"No... but I'm guessing you do?"

He huffed; I could see his shoulders sag. He didn't answer right away, which I thought was weird based on how excited he got earlier. "Kind of?" he answered reluctantly. "Not too often, though. I'm not a big streamer or anything, just a small one. I only play with a few friends—no one big like Dream or Wilbur Soot. That would be crazy. Absolutely crazy—"

"You're overcompensating, dude," I interrupted, mostly to save himself from looking more like a liar. I respected his reluctance—if he was actually a big streamer, obviously he wouldn't tell someone he doesn't even know the face of.

He was frozen, like he was in fight or flight mode.

"Don't worry, I won't ask," I reassured. "I understand if you don't want to tell me who you are. My cousin's a pretty well-known streamer so I've seen the struggle first-hand," I shrugged.

It wasn't just him who was anxious. The moment Will's name left his mouth I tensed up, thankful he wouldn't be able to see me through the darkness. I was fine telling him about Wilbur, just not how we’re related. My voice was heard in his stream earlier. If this guy watched Wilbur, then he might find my voice familiar.

"No shit I knew you sounded familiar!"

Shit. I cringed, waiting for the ball to drop.

"But UGHH I can't put my finger on it!!"

I let out a sigh. At least he couldn't figure it out.

"Are you like, Dream's cousin or something? That would be insane!" His hands moved around a lot as he talked—he definitely had more energy now than before. So much for a relaxing night by the shore.

I didn't mind, though.

"I don't even know who Dream is. Well, not really. I only know him because my YouTube recommendations won't shut up about some guy wearing a mask and a green hoodie who plays Minecraft."

He gasped, "OH what if you're like— Wilbur Soot's secret sister or something??"

Well, he kind of got it right. Will's basically my brother.

I was laughing at his antics again. "I listen to his music." I changed the subject, not wanting to risk myself giving away any more details. He’s getting close, but I did say cousin. Not sister.

He excitedly shifted so he was facing me, buzzing with energy. "YOU LISTEN TO LOVEJOY?!"

Of course, I helped make it, I thought. Damn, this dude seemed like a hardcore Will fan.

I nodded. "Of course, I do."

"What's your favourite song??"

I hummed in thought. Since I helped Wilbur and the rest of the band with most of the songs, I couldn't really choose one. It was all a nice experience. Wilbur said they were making new music, but I couldn't be much help because the closer school got the busier I was, too—especially since I just moved to Brighton.

"Perfume. That's gotta be my favourite." It wasn't a lie. It was the song I got most involved in, so it has a pretty special place in my heart.

It wasn't even supposed to make it to the album, but Wilbur said someone specially requested for it to be. At that point the songs that were going to make it to the album were already decided, so when Wilbur asked for my help on polishing ‘Perfume’—though, yes, I was honoured he went to me for help—it was sort of a rush. My mom and I were in the middle of moving from the US to the UK, then suddenly, Will is asking me to help improve the song.

Busy with packing my things at the time, I refused. But Wilbur was persistent, telling me that the song meant a lot to someone really important to him. Embarrassingly, it only took him a day to convince me to help him, although I did complain a lot about having to unpack my instruments.

By that point, most of my things were already packed. But we didn’t leave for a few days, so I went ahead and took my guitars and amplifiers out of the boxes and repacked them the day before we left.

I didn't have to help, but how could I say no to helping Wilbur?

If it wasn't so dark, I'd probably see the mystery man's eyes light up. I could sense it.

"NO WAY!! I LOVE THAT SONG!"

I flinched, not expecting his voice to be so loud. I shushed him, gesturing around us. It was late in the night; his voice would probably wake up the everyone in Brighton.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Then silence. It wasn't awkward or tense. Weirdly enough, I’d say it was comfortable.

The sound of the waves, the wind—that's what I came for. Not loud voices and energetic teenage boys—

"How old are you anyway?" I crossed my fingers, hoping he wasn't some creepy old guy. Would a creepy old guy stream?

Judging by how his voice cracked from time to time, I'm guessing around my age. But I can never be too sure.

"Pshh, I'm not telling a stranger anything about myself." He pulled his legs up to his chest, still facing me. I chuckled, copying him. It was pretty cold; I could use the extra warmth.

"I'm 16." Hopefully I could encourage him to tell me his age too. I mean, he streams. I'm 90% sure he's gonna slip at some point. If he's anything like Wilbur, he'd be used to telling people stuff about himself.

"Were you born before or after April 9, 2004?" He asked.

And there it is.

Laughing, I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle it.

"What?" he asked, oblivious.

"What's it to you, Mr. "I'm not telling a stranger anything about myself"?"

He face-palmed, mumbling a soft "shit" under his breath. Then a louder one. "Shit!"

I kept laughing. I found his personality ridiculous, but nothing short of charming. "So, you're 18?" I asked as a matter-of-fact, my laughter dying down to uneven giggles.

"Oh of course not—I'm obviously 32." The sarcasm dripped from his words effortlessly.

"Yeah, and I'm Wilbur Soot's cousin." I rolled my eyes, letting a smile spread across my face. It was rare to converse with a stranger as freely as I am now, I don't mind sprinkling in some truth to our conversation. In all honesty, he's probably the first person I would consider a friend since I moved. It was a shame I didn't even know his face, but maybe it was better that way.

"Thank you," I told him. "It was a pretty shit day today—first day of school and all. I feel much better now, though."

"Ah, so you're saying little ol' me made your entire day better?"

I could probably feel his smug attitude from a hundred miles away. He wasn't wrong, though. "Of course," I stood up, dusting my clothes of any sand and dust that might have clung to the fabric. I extended my hand, offering to help him stand up, which he took graciously. "You're my Manic Pixie Dream Boy," I chuckled.

He was dusting himself off as well, and when he stood up straight—who am I kidding, he has a hunchback comparable to the protagonist of a certain Disney movie—I could finally see him in his full height.

"Holy shit, you're tall as fuck," came out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

He laughed, shaking off the last of the sand that made its way into the creases of his hoodie's sleeves. "So I've been told— wait, what's Manic Pixie Dream Boy? Bitch, do I look like a pixie to you? I'm a man!"

"Be honest, you're bitchier than I am," I joked, laughing until an idea popped into my head. "OH!"

He jumped, not expecting the sudden volume of my voice.

"MANIC PIXIE BITCH BOY!" I practically doubled over, clutching my stomach and occasionally wiping my eyes.

"I still don't know what that means!"

He tried to sound mad, but the smile I could hear in his voice proved otherwise.

Once I've composed myself, inhaling slowly to regain control of my breathing, I smiled at him. I found myself wishing he could see it for the first time that night. "I'll tell you next time?" I suggested, biting my lip, once again finding myself feeling different since I first talked to him.

There was a pause. Only the waves and the wind could be heard. The silhouette of his hair moved with the breeze as he ran his hand through it; the same one that went to rub the back of his neck a few moments later.

He extended his hand for me to shake, which I did, suddenly cautious if I seemed too eager with how I didn't hesitate to take shake it. "Next time," he replied, letting his hand linger in mine for a few more seconds than necessary. He gave it a squeeze before letting go.

I slowly walked backwards, "Bye, Manic Pixie Bitch Boy!"

"Bye, dipshit." He gave me a two-finger salute, which I reciprocated, before turning around to go back home.

Wilbur will have a field day if he hears about this.

#What Can You Lose?#tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit angst #tommyinnit fluff #tommyinnit fanfic #tommyinnit #wilbur #wilbur soot #tommyinnit x reader angst #tommyinnit x reader fluff #tommyinit x you angst

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multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer · 2 years

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Lie for Me (Steve Harrington x Reader) - Chapter 1

Author's Note: Aaaaand here it is. The (not-so-long) awaited Steve Harrington series! I hope you guys enjoy chapter one, and I will be putting these out weekly at this point. If I get ahead of schedule, then it might become bi-weekly but we'll see how it goes. Message me, slide into my asks, or @ me if you would like to be added to the tag list for this! Thanks so much for all the love <3

Summary: What happens when you see Steve Harrington for what feels like the first time since high school, and you already have someone asking if you’re his girlfriend? And what happens if you say yes?

Lie for Me Chapter 1 - Movies and Fabrications

Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 1,617

Warnings: None in this chapter!

“Hey, Robin, I’ll pick you up after work tomorrow, yeah?” You ask your best friend, Robin, as she leaves your house.

“Uh, yeah, that should be good. Steve is dropping me off so you can pick me up and we’ll watch a movie.” She nods.

“Steve works at Family Video with you?” You give her a face, stopping in the doorway as she starts the walk back to her house.

“Yeah. He worked with me at Scoops Ahoy, remember? He and I have been through a lot together, we’re best friends now.” She jokes.

“Best friends?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Kidding! Sort of! See you tomorrow, (Y/n/n)!” She calls as she runs off. You close the door behind yourself, laughing softly at her. Robin Buckley has been your best friend for the longest time, and you wouldn’t trade her for the world. You guys have an unbreakable friendship and you love each other.

~+~

“Welcome to Family Video, how can I-- oh. It’s just you.” Robin turns to see you from her place at the counter, a deadpan look on her face. You know she hates work, but it’s a necessary evil. “It’s me!” You grin at her. She smiles back at you softly and looks at the clock.

“I’ve only got five minutes left on my shift. I got us a movie to watch later and put it in the back. I’ll grab it real quick then we can head out.” Robin explains quickly, gathering some of her stuff together.

“Sounds good. I’ll just be browsing until you’re done.” You nod and head over to one of the movie sections, picking out a film you might want to watch next week. You pass a few titles that are decently notable, Footloose, Sixteen Candles, and The Breakfast Club sticking out to you.

“Steve!” You hear a yell behind you from the front door of the store.

“Henderson, what are you doing here?” the Harrington boy asks from behind the counter. You turn your head slightly to look at the two boys, catching Steve’s eye after doing so. Your eyes widen and you duck your head to continue looking at movies, pretending that you didn’t just make eye contact with Steve Harrington.

No, you do not have a crush on him. In fact, you don’t even really know the guy. You knew of him in high school, but he was just loud and annoying. Not to mention, he was a popular jock, so you never really crossed paths with him. But past that? You haven’t seen him. Maybe once at Scoops Ahoy as you were visiting Robin, but you don’t remember. Besides, it’s not like you’ve ever talked. You were in the same graduating class, that’s it.

However, it is still slightly embarrassing to make eye contact with a person you knew from high school whom you haven’t seen since.

“Seriously, Steve? No one? Not a singular girl? You’re kidding me. You’re Steve Harrington! You have to have a girl!” You hear Dustin practically shout at his friend, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

“I do!” Steve defends himself. You try to tune out their conversation, wanting to be polite and not eavesdrop too much. You continue to look at different movies, finally picking out Indiana Jones: Raiders of The Lost Ark for Robin to put in the back for movie night next week.

You’re engrossed in your own thoughts when suddenly you feel a tapping on your shoulder. You spin around and are greeted by none other than Dustin Henderson himself, a full toothy grin on display.

“Oh, hi. Can I help you?” You ask, not bothering to hide the surprise on your face. Dustin nods.

“Yeah, hi, um, is it true you’re dating Steve?” He asks. Your eyes practically bulge out of your skull, and your head whips up to look at Steve who is still behind the counter. He has wide eyes and nods his head very vigorously, trying to get you to play along. You hesitate and weigh the options in your mind. If you say no, you risk embarrassing Steve in front of his friend. However, you also don’t really know Steve, so it’s little to no loss for you. On the flip side, though, if you say yes… you might be able to get an “IOU” out of Steve Harrington, which might eventually come in handy.

“Uh…yes, why?” You say slowly, looking back down at Dustin in front of you. You miss the look of shock on Steve’s face that you actually played along.

“Dude,” Dustin turns around and yells at Steve, “how could you not tell me!?”

“I-I…” Steve looks dumbfounded, looking between you and Dustin.

“Because I asked him to keep it a secret. My family knows of the Harrington reputation in high school, and they weren’t too fond of him, so we’re trying to get them to see that he’s changed before we publicize our romance.” You swoop in and save the day, sauntering over to join the boys at the checkout counter.

“Yeah, what she said.” Steve agrees.

“Darling, could you put this movie in the back for me please? I’m saving it for later.” You tease him, handing him the movie you picked out. You don’t miss the way his cheeks burn at your nickname as he takes the movie and mumbles something along the lines of ‘sure thing’. He sets the movie under the counter for the time being.

“How long have you guys been dating?” Dustin asks incredulously.

“A month.” Steve pipes up, eyes darting to you as if to ask you if that’s okay. You nod in agreement.

“A month?” Dustin groans.

“Yes, Henderson. A month.” Steve sighs.

“I never see the two of you together!”

“What do you think the point of a secret is?” You hum, looking intently at the boy. He frowns.

“Does Robin know?” He asks.

“Does Robin know what?” Robin appears from the employee room in the back with Star Wars: A New Hope resting in her hands.

“Nothing--”

“THEY’RE DATING!” Dustin blurts out, pointing to the two of you. You and Steve both whip around to stare at him and he gives you both an apologetic look.

“...what?” Robin seems more confused than anything.

“Dustin, go home.” Steve demands.

“What? But--” Dustin tries to defend himself to no avail.

“Go home.”

“Why?”

“Because the grown-ups need to talk now. Robin, can I have a chat with you?” Steve grimaces.

“Can we have a chat with you?” You interject. Robin’s your best friend first, she needs to understand what just happened from you.

“Yes, we need to talk.” Steve gestures to the three of you.

“But how can I go home when I just found out--”

“Henderson,” You turn and give him a stern look, “go home. Now.”

“Fine.” He huffs and turns around, walking out of Family Video.

“Okay, what’s going on? Because I know for a fact the two of you are not dating. You’re both my best friends, so I would’ve figured out at this point or one of you would have spilled.” Robin asks, crossing her arms and looking at the two of you expectantly. You and Steve look at each other nervously, unsure where to start on your story.

“Steve lied to Dustin so he wouldn’t look like a loser.” You blurt out, pursing your lips afterward to keep from laughing.

“You did what, Harrington?” Robin’s eyes go wide as she turns to stare at Steve.

“Why’d you have to word it like that?” Steve groans, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Do you even know her name?” Robin asks, pointing to you. You look over at Steve expectantly.

“Uh…yes.” Steve laughs nervously.

“What is it, then?” You raise an eyebrow.

“....(Y/l/n).”

“First name, Steve. What’s my first name?”

“I don’t know!”

“Wow. Typical Harrington move. You know what,” you start to grab your stuff, “I’ll just go. You can explain to your friend Dustin there that you are a loser and don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Wait! I’m sorry!” Steve apologizes, hand lightly grazing your upper arm to stop you from walking out. You glare at him.

“Her name’s (Y/n), by the way. You might want to know that if you’re going to date her,” Robin says.

“He’s not going to date me, because this fake scenario is over. Have a good one.” You spit out, turning to head for the door.

“Just a week, please, (Y/n)!” Steve calls after you. You turn around and give him an incredulous look.

“Not a chance, Harrington. You never bothered to know my name despite us being in the same graduating class! You’re lucky I even played along with your rouse in the first place.” You scoff at him.

“You’re right. I am lucky that you played along with it, thank you. Please, just play along for one week longer. Then we can break up as if nothing happened and I’ll just tell Dustin we went our separate ways. He already thinks low enough of me, I need to be a good role model for him to look up to. That includes being able to get a girlfriend.”

You look at Steve for a moment, seeing him practically begging for your help. You debate it in your mind. I mean, it is only a week. And you only have to keep up the act in front of Dustin, so it’s not like it would affect the rest of your personal life, really. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“You owe me big time for this, Harrington.” You finally agree.

“Is that a yes?” Steve’s eyes light up.

“You’re seriously saying yes?” Robin looks dumbfounded.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

And that is where the beginning of your adventurous summer all started.

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depressedbagpipe · 2 years

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The Freak and the Jedi (Eddie Munson x female!Henderson!reader)

Chapter five: The Nina Project

Words: 4606 Warnings: foul language, canon-typical violence, Patrick getting Vecna'd right before reader's eyes, reader being a badass and putting Jason in his place, reader clearly having ptsd but me not knowing how to properly portray it. mentions of grief and death. also god i guess? reader wears a black dress (no other physical descriptions), the Henderson siblings sharing a braincell. A/N: sorry for the long wait, guys, I've been sick for almost two weeks for absolutely no reason. so, reader gets a little plot of her own for once, and it's safe to say Eddie and her will bond for life over this. thank you so much for reading, and i hope you guys are liking the story, because we're right in the middle now! Taglist: @authorlovers, @angiewhoohooo, @thatsamegirl, @lizzy-95, @elleeeee21, @tanyaherondale, @le-who-zer-her, @toobsessedsstuff

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Chapter five: The Nina Project

The Wheelers’ basement had somehow become our headquarters, much to Karen Wheeler’s joy and Ted Wheeler’s dismay. The fact that we also somehow decided to sleep together in the same room despite the unused bedrooms upstairs was beyond my comprehension. Still, I could do little when I was awoken by Eddie’s static complaints over the walkie and incredible neck pain from falling asleep facing Max’s now empty couch.

“Wheeler! Hey,” I opened my eyes with a start, silently groaning as a massive headache made its way into my brain from the uncomfortable sleeping position. Eddie’s yells over the radio didn’t help. “Um, I’m gonna need a food delivery, like, really soon, unless you want me going out into the world,” Nancy quickly cut him off.

“No. No, no, no, don’t do that,” I rolled my eyes at him, closing my eyes again, fighting to stay awake. “Just, stay where you are, and we’ll be there as soon as we can,” Nancy answered, rubbing her own eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen, um… can you pick me up a six-pack? I know, it’s stupid as shit, drinking right now, but a cold beer would really calm my jangled nerves,” both Nancy and I sighed in annoyance.

I was about to respond from my place when Nancy rushed to her feet with panic in her voice.

“Hey, I’m gonna have to call you back,” she put the walkie down and quickly rushed to Dustin, who was asleep on the floor, hitting his head on the screen behind him as he opened his eyes, completely disoriented.

“Whoah,” he said as he focused his eyes on Nancy, who shook him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on Max's watch?” with that I opened my eyes again, squinting as I looked to find Max gone.

“Yep. Yep, yep, yep. Sorry,” he too rubbed his eyes, closing them for a second.

“Then where is she?”

Dustin frowned. “She’s right there,” he pointed to the empty couch the redhead had fallen asleep on. “A second ago. I swear, I just dozed off for…” panicking, he checked his wrist, his voice trailing off. “An hour,” he whispered.

I quickly stood on my feet, all sleep wearing off as the three of us rushed upstairs, walking towards the entrance of the house before finding Max sitting on the kitchen table, her headphones on as she drew something, with Nancy’s little sister, Holly, next to her. We sighed in relief at the sight, my heart immediately calming down.

“Morning, guys!” Karen Wheeler’s chipper voice greeted us. “Everything okay?” she asked as she put freshly baked pancakes on a plate on the kitchen island.

We all nodded, trying to appear normal. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s okay,” Nancy answered.

Max turned her head to us, waving slightly at us from her seat.

“I think it’s so sweet that you guys are sticking together like this,” Karen continued.

“Could try sticking together at a different house for a change,” Ted, on the contrary, added.

Nancy ignored her father and sat down next to Max.

Karen turned to Dustin and me, looking at us with a fond smile. She had always been like a second mother to us, given that we were both best friends with her children.

“You know you’re welcome anytime,” she said.

“Totally. You’re like family,” Dustin said.

I nodded. “Of course, Mrs. Wheeler, we’re very grateful you’re letting us stay here,” I too answered.

“May I?” Dustin approached the pancakes, his stomach growling at the sight.

“Absolutely,” Karen answered, handing him the plate in her hand with a smile. “I’ll get you another one,” she told me as she reached for another one for me.

Dustin started pouring some onto his plate.

“Yeah, why not? Take us for all we’re worth,” Ted complained as he took a sip of his coffee, his eyes not even lifting from his newspaper.

“Okay,” Dustin and I said cheekily at the same time, pouring ourselves more food.

Nancy and Max were already talking when we sat down at the table with them.

“But when I made it here… I dunno, something was different. He seemed surprised, almost. Like he didn’t want me there,” Max was explaining something to Nancy.

My eyes quickly scanned over her drawings, an immediate feeling of terror washing over my body as I tried to picture what happened after she told us what she saw.

“Maybe you infiltrated his mind,” Dustin offered. “He invaded your mind, right? Is it that big of a leap to suggest you somehow wound up in his?”

“Like Freddie Krueger’s boiler room!” I gasped, making Dustin gasp as well as we looked at each other.

“Freddie Krueger?” Holly suddenly asked, scaring me for a second as I had completely forgotten her presence at the table.

Dustin got technical. “He’s a super burned-up dude with razors for fingers, and he kills you in your dreams,” he explained to Holly, who looked at him with a disgusted look.

“Dustin, seriously?” Nancy shut him up.

“Sorry. It’s a movie, it’s not real,” he apologized before returning to the conversation. “Just… think about it. What if you somehow unlocked a backdoor to Vecna’s world? Like, maybe the answer we’re looking for is somewhere in this incredibly vague drawing,” he grabbed one of Max’s papers, holding it before his eyes, trying to make sense of it. I too stared at it, squinting my eyes. “God, we need Will,” Dustin exclaimed.

“No shit,” Max said, clearly annoyed at him. “But I tried them again this morning, and it’s the same busy signal,” she continued.

Nancy grabbed one of the drawings. “Is this a window?”

Max nodded. “Yeah.”

“Stained glass with roses?” Nancy tried again.

“Yeah,” she answered again. “See? I’m not so terrible after all,” she shot a glare at Dustin.

“Yeah, well, it helps that I’ve seen it before,” Nancy started folding and putting the pieces together, grabbing another pen and drawing a thick black line around the edges, the sight of a familiar house suddenly coming clean on the table.

“It’s pieces of a house,” Max noted.

“Not just any house. It’s Victor Creel’s house,” Nancy concluded. She grabbed the papers and stood up.

“Where are you going?” I asked, my mouth full of pancakes.

“Waking the others,” Nancy answered, walking down the stairs.

We quickly followed after her. Dustin grabbed another pancake and ran down the stairs with it.

I stopped in my tracks as an idea popped into my head.

“Hey, Mrs. Wheeler, do you think I could bring some of these pancakes to my mom? You know she’s a huge fan of your cooking,” I asked with the most innocent smile I could muster.

Karen Wheeler, with a sweet smile in return, nodded profusely, quickly putting together a nice amount of food in a small Tupperware and giving it to me.

“Tell her I said hello and that I will call her later, okay?” she called after me as I too walked towards their basement.

“Will do!”

Tews greeted me when I opened the door. I could hear my mother on the other side of the house, walking around while opening and closing her drawers. I silently slipped inside, closing the door softly behind me and trying to shush Tews as it meowed at me.

“Who is it?” I heard my mom yell from her room. “Are you an intruder?” she ran to the entrance, sighing in relief when she saw me.

“Yeah, an intruder that happens to have our keys,” I said as I walked towards my room.

She blocked my path, quickly embracing me. “Honey, where were you? And where’s Dustin? You both know it’s not safe out there!” she shook my from side to side, making me slightly dizzy at the motion.

“We’re fine, don’t worry. We’ve been at the Wheelers’,” I answered.

My mom visibly relaxed. “Still, you should’ve called me!”

I frowned as I broke the hug. “I thought Karen called you.”

“She did, but I still expect my own children to do it before giving me a heart attack!”

I was used to her dramatic antics, but after everything that was going on, my mother’s nerves were the last thing I was worried about.

“I promise you, we’re alright. I actually came to shower and change clothes,” I said, resuming my walk towards my room. “Here, have a pancake,” I grabbed one of the pancakes and gave it to my mom, who took it with a confused face.

“Well, of course, dear, Chrissy was your friend, it’s only fitting that you go to her funeral,” I stopped dead in my tracks at her words, opening my door slightly and poking my head out.

“The what, now?” I asked.

“Honey, it’s Chrissy’s funeral today, I told you yesterday,” she looked sympathetically at me, raising his hand to my forehead. “I know this must be hard for you, but death is part of life, and I think you’re being really strong by attending despite your obvious distress,” she said, warmth in her eyes.

I slowly nodded. “Yeah… right… the funeral… of course, yeah, I mean…” I then knew there was no getting out of it, and simply went along with it. “That’s exactly why I came here now. I better get ready for it, then,” I answered, putting on my best sorrowful face for her.

“Of course. I left you my old black dress on your bed to wear,” she said as she turned around, grabbing Tews in her hands.

“Thanks, love you, see you later!” I answered as I shut the door.

I pressed my forehead to my door and sighed heavily, the sudden silence welcoming me like an old friend. My mom’s old dress rested on my bed, simple and elegant.

“Not again,” I sighed as I grabbed it and took it to the bathroom when suddenly my walkie went off.

“Hey, you home yet?” Dustin’s voice filled the room.

I answered quickly. “Yeah, but something came up. Mom thinks I’m home for Chrissy’s funeral, so I’ll have to go,” I sighed.

“What? Are you crazy? You know Jason and his gang will be there!” Dustin sounded alarmed.

“Yeah, but technically it’s not me they’re after. Maybe I can talk him out of it, send them in a different direction, perhaps?” I said.

“It’s a bad idea and you know it,” Dustin tried to reason.

“Well, we don’t have anything else, Dus. I’ll go to the funeral and then I’ll stay with Eddie, alright? I can’t leave right away without it being suspicious,” I told him.

Dustin took a few minutes to answer. “Just… be careful, okay?”

I smiled softly. “Always. Love you.”

“Love you too. Over,” and with that, our conversation was cut.

With yet another heavy sigh, I locked myself in the bathroom, quickly stripping from my dirty clothes and getting into the shower.

I stood under the hot water for a few minutes, the last couple of days replaying before my eyes as I automatically showered. I finished in no time, for my mind was too lost on everything to even realize I was on autopilot mode for the entire process.

It didn’t take me long to get ready after that, sitting down on my bed as I looked around my room, noticing the tiny details that I had been gathering over the years. I stood before my mirror, staring at my reflection and frowning at the girl that stared back at me. Clean hair, clean clothes, clean face. For an instant, I just felt like a girl, a normal one, for that matter, and not somebody that had saved the world with her friends several times now. A few polaroids were stuck to the frame of the mirror, and my eyes scanned the pictures with a soft smile.

A picture of Nancy, Barb, and me, the three of us on our first day of high school.

A picture of Dustin and me from Halloween, him dressed as Stantz and me as Luke Skywalker.

A picture of Jonathan taking a picture of me, with a laughing Will in the back.

A picture of a passed-out Robin on Steve’s couch, with Steve drawing a mustache on her face with a black marker.

And a picture of Eddie, holding a burned tray of cookies at his uncle’s trailer as he smiled cheekily at me, his hair far shorter and half as curlier than it was today.

Tears prickled at my eyes as I looked at them, thinking about everything we had all gone through together, and how much was at stake at that very moment.

A soft knock on my door woke me up from my daze.

“Are you ready, honey? We need to leave now,” my mom said as she opened the door.

I sniffed and rubbed my eyes, nodding as I took a small purse, making sure my own walkie was inside. “Yeah, sorry, I just needed a minute,” I walked to the door.

My mom, after taking one look at me, squeezed my shoulders comfortingly, probably thinking I was distressed because of the funeral. “Everything will be alright, dear,” she took my hand as we both walked outside towards my car.

I squeezed her hand in return. “I really hope so.”

Chrissy’s funeral was beautiful, indeed. But her mother’s eulogy made my blood boil.

“The devil is here,” she started. “I can feel his presence… growing stronger each day. But I know Chrissy’s in heaven now, looking down at us, smiling. Happy to see all the lives she touched and brightened.”

I shifted in my seat, my heart aching at her words. I knew Chrissy’s situation at home wasn’t ideal, she said so herself that last time at the school bathroom, but the girl had never been but kind to me. Even though my mom was wrong and we were not technically friends, I knew her absence would be hard to ignore.

“But I also know she’s frustrated. Angry. That the monster that did this to her is still out there. Still. Hurting others. How can he live, while my angel is gone?”

I forced myself to stop listening because I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought about Max, and how her life had completely turned for the worse because of Vecna. Chrissy, Fred, Eddie, and the many lives that were now broken and half-empty because of him. My mom took my hand in hers when she noticed the redness in my eyes, but I wasn’t crying because of sadness. I cried because I was angry; I was furious that our lives never seemed to go back to normal. Outraged that we were all kids forced to grow up too quickly.

Jason spotted me after the funeral. I thoroughly disliked him, but I still gave him a short hug.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” I said as I patted his back. “She was an amazing girl.”

He gave me a tight-lipped smile, tears still falling down his face.

“Thank you, really,” but there was an edge to his eyes. In a split second, darkness came and went. “Hey, is your brother here?” he asked.

I didn’t like the way he said it. “No, uh… he barely knew her, it wouldn’t’ve been appropriate,” I said, looking down at my feet as I tried to come up with a real excuse.

“Right… well, I… I would like to speak with him sometime. You know, he is good friends with Munson, right?” he was looking down at me, more menacing by the second.

But after being interrogated by Russian soldiers, chased by the Mind-Flayer, dragged around by a Demogorgon, and listening to my little brother sing The NeverEnding Story with Suzie, little Jason Carver couldn’t scare me. Honestly, very few things could scare me anymore.

“Yeah, thanks to their D&D club. You know, the game,” I said slowly, lowering my voice, and accentuating the word ‘game.’

“Yeah, yeah, the game,” he looked somewhere else. I followed his gaze, seeing his friends staring at us. The way he said made it seem like a mockery.

“And what about you? I’ve seen you talking to Munson a few times, do you know anything?” he looked back at me, his eyes harder than before.

I squinted my eyes at him. “What are you implying?”

He stopped for a few seconds but lowered his voice only for me to hear. “I know he killed Chrissy. And I know your brother and his friends are hiding him somewhere. So, do you wanna make this easier for yourself and tell me where he is? Or you wanna wait until I find him and kill him myself?” his threat sent shivers down my spine, but not of fear.

“Are you really that fucking stupid to think a bunch of fifteen-year-olds is hiding a fucking adult when the entire town is looking for him? Did you hit your head on your way over? That’s low even for you, Carver,” my anger was growing by the minute.

He wordlessly stared at me for a few seconds, clearly at a loss of words. “Henderson, I…” he started, but I didn’t let him finish.

“Whatever it is that you’re trying to prove here, don’t. Let the cops do their job, and you go back to bouncing balls and winning games, alright? And, I swear to God, Carver, if you ever lay a finger on either my brother or his friends, you’ll be joining Chrissy soon enough.”

I turned around and left him standing there, joining my mom as she conversed with a few of my classmates’ parents. I didn’t dare look back at him, feeling like I just had made the situation worse, but feeling oddly proud of myself for it. Nobody threatened my family.

“I brought you pancakes,” I handed the Tupperware to Eddie, whose eyes lit up at the mention.

“You brought me pancakes,” he repeated with an impressed face, staring at the blue container in my outstretched hand.

“I mean, I didn’t make them. It was Nancy’s mom,” I answered as he took them from me. “They’re still a bit warm. I heated them a bit before coming here. I told Mrs. Wheeler they were for my mom so, yeah, I’ll need the Tupperware back,” I said as I sat down on the stool in the shed, watching Eddie hungrily eat them with passion.

“Wow,” he moaned, his voice, for some reason, sending a shiver straight to my lower stomach. My cheeks flushed at my reaction, but I quickly hid my face from him. “These are so good,” he kept munching on them, groaning from time to time.

“Yeah,” I coughed slightly. “Karen is a great chef,” I stood there awkwardly, facing anywhere but him as he happily ate away.

“You’re not that far behind,” he mentioned lowly.

I scoffed. “Yeah, like that one time I almost burned the entire kitchen down,” I chuckled at the memory, the polaroid fresh in my mind.

“Well, my uncle made us clean it, and thankfully it came off, so…” Eddie laughed as he ate, the Tupperware soon empty.

“Thankfully,” I agreed with another chuckle. “So, have you talked to the guys?” I asked him, eager to change the topic. I couldn’t dwell on the past anymore for the day.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, Dustin said they’ll bring supplies tomorrow, ‘cause they had to check something first,” he recalled.

I froze when I recalled the plan. “Yeah, about that…” I trailed off. But Eddie’s wide eyes urged me to continue. “We may have a lead. A huge one, actually. And it’s not pretty.”

“What else is new?” Eddie added with sarcasm.

I sighed. “So, um, we kinda discovered that music acts as an anchor to life. This gotta be the worst explanation ever but hear me out. When Max was attacked, Lucas played her favorite song, and thanks to it, she’s still with us. And somehow, Max might have entered Vecna’s mind. She drew what she saw and Nancy recognized it as Victor Creel’s house, apparently. The guys are checking his house as we speak,” I summarized.

“Wow,” Eddie simply said, staring at a random spot on the wall.

“Yeah, I know it’s a lot,” I answered back.

After a few seconds, Eddie frowned. “So, music is an anchor, huh?” he toyed with the rings on his fingers.

I nodded absent-mindedly, my gaze fixed on his hands. “Yeah.”

“So, what, I should just play ‘Africa’ at full volume if Vecna catches you?” he joked, a teasing smile on his lips.

I gasped as I laughed loudly. “Oh, come on, it’s a great song!” we both laughed. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t totally smack the shit out of him if ‘What a Feeling’ started playing!” I counterattacked, chuckling at his surprised face. “I’m onto you, Munson, I know Irene Cara is your guilty pleasure.”

“I mean, at least you can dance to that song…” he trailed off, getting up from the boat and walking to me.

I put a hand over my chest, offended. “You saying you can’t dance to Africa?

“Exactly.”

“There’s more than one way to dance other than headbanging,” I added as he stepped closer.

“What do you know about dancing, Henderson?” he was now standing very close to me, our chests almost touching.

“Apparently, more than you, Munson,” I pressed myself completely to him, a sudden urge to touch him overpowering my senses.

“Wanna bet?” his voice was low, calculated. My eyes dropped from his eyes to his lips, but before any of us could move, the sound of tires screeching interrupted us.

This better be good, I thought as we moved towards the window, my face paling at the sight of Jason and his friends walking towards the entrance of the house with baseball bats and iron rods in their hands.

“Shit, shit,” Eddie said as he pushed me down to my knees next to him, gripping my wrist tightly as he looked around for his own walkie, making sure the two of us were out of sight. “Hey, Dustin, you there? It’s Eddie. Your sister too. You remember me, right? Hey, if anyone’s there, I really think we might be in a bit of trouble here, okay? Wheeler? Anybody?!” he frustratedly smacked the radio, but no answer came.

“For fuck’s sake, Dustin, do you copy?” I tried my own walkie, only slightly calmer as I pressed my back to the wall, feeling my heart race. “Fuck, this is all my fault,” I rubbed my eyes.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked, equally alarmed.

“At Chrissy’s funeral, he asked about Dustin, and I may have threatened him to leave us alone. I think I only angered him more,” I said with a guilty face. Eddie didn’t answer. He simply stared at me with an unreadable look. “Please, say something,” I pleaded, feeling the silence was ten times worse than his yelling.

“You threatened him?” he asked, still crouching before me. I nodded weakly at him. “Fuck, that’s why I like you,” he said before speeding to the other side of the room, looking for some place we could both hide with Jason in the house.

I didn’t ignore his comment, my heart skipping a beat. I couldn’t know if Eddie realized what he said, but I remained unmoving in my place, crouched below the window, staring at him as my head repeated his words over and over.

The light outside had already gone out, and we were running out of time until they came outside. The little bulb by the door of the shed always went on at the same hour, and it only would be a matter of time before any of them came looking for us down here.

“Dustin?” Eddie tried again. “Please, are… are you there?” he was met with more static, but with his head unmoving, he quickly copied back. “Never mind.”

He put the walkie down and moved towards the boat.

“What are you doing?” I asked, watching him release the knots that held the boat together above water.

“How do you feel about a swim, princess?”

Despite the blush on my cheeks, I moved forward to help him, emptying the boat of its contents and grabbing our stuff before sitting on the bench, grabbing both oars in my hands as the boat was released into the water, with Eddie quickly following after me and grabbing one oar for himself, frantically pushing the boat into the lake, desperately rowing to reach the other side.

It wasn’t long before we heard Jason yell after us.

“Hey, freak!” we both froze in place, turning around slightly to see them running to the edge of the shore. “Where do you think you’re going?” Jason quickly started stripping, jumping in the water after us.

“Shit!” Eddie said before turning to the engine, desperately trying to get it to work.

“Henderson? You too?” Jason called when he spotted me. I widened my eyes, too scared at the moment to say anything else.

Eddie kept trying to get the engine started, but it wouldn’t budge. “You piece of shit. Come on! Gotta help us out here, man,” he insisted. I grabbed the oars and started rowing to the other side, for it was our only solution. Jason and his friends were athletes, and it wouldn’t take them long to reach us if we didn’t start moving now. “Goddamn it!” Eddie smacked the top in frustration, finally abandoning his mission and joining me at the front, grabbing the other oar and pushing us forward.

We both kept cursing, looking back repeatedly to see Jason advancing after us rather quickly. Eddie stopped rowing and put himself in front of me, waving his oar around.

“Hey, stay back, man! Stay back!” he was ready to hit Jason with it, but Jason was looking back at Patrick, who seemed frozen in the middle of the water a couple of feet behind him.

“Hey, come on! Let’s go! We almost have him!”

But Patrick was looking around, confused, scared. He didn’t move.

“Hey, Patrick!” Jason called once more, and just as I looked over Eddie’s shoulder, I saw Patrick disappear underwater.

Jason called for him, silence filling the air. I looked around confused, thinking maybe he dived to attack our front.

But my attention was suddenly elsewhere, for Patrick had now emerged and was suspended in the air several feet above us, his arms stretched to the sides.

“Fuck!” I yelled as I immediately remembered Eddie and Max’s words.

Eddie stumbled back in shock and sent the two of us back into the water. I resurfaced coughing heavily, having accidentally swallowed water.

I looked up at Patrick in shock, watching and hearing his bones break rapidly, his body bending in ways no body should ever bend as I did my best to stay afloat. My arms were burning from the exercise of rowing and swimming, all while my heart felt like it could combust any second at the sight of Patrick becoming Vecna’s victim.

With one last crack, his body fell into the water.

The three of us stared at Patrick’s corpse, floating, unmoving. Dead. Jason immediately swam to him, yelling and crying his name.

I knew I was crying too, such a display forever embedded in my head. My tears mixed with the freshwater of the lake, and though I noticed Eddie’s arm around my waist as he hoisted me up onto the boat, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Patrick. Eddie didn’t say anything as he rowed us away, away from Jason’s screams and into the darkness ahead of us.

Next chapter

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfiction #dustin henderson #steve harrington #eleven #eddie my beloved #stranger things #eddie munson fic #the freak and the jedi

43 notes · View notes

gumasantan · 1 year

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morning forever: a cynonari oneshot

author's note: hey, hey, hey! i've written another fic that i'm quite satisfied about, and this time, i had to think hard about it! it's a long ass oneshot (~2.6k words) with a mystery (wooo~). this one focuses on cyno and tighnari's relationship so if you're not into those that i've mentioned, please scroll away. from this point on i'm planning to write in different styles. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading this one!

Therein lies a wooden cabin in the middle of a spruce forest surrounded by lush greens, bountiful patches of colorful plants, and littered with vines ever-growing upon the surface of the manmade structure. With how natural and one-in-nature this living space is, it won’t only attract those who love the sight of the undisturbed land, but it will also reel in those who have a passion in how this massive piece of soil came to be and anything of it.

A setting like that does not stand remarkable among many people apart from a few, considering how far they will have to be away from any signs of human activity.

The irrelevance one can feel in the presence of intimidation made real when one realizes how much the trees tower over their figure, it really makes you feel small. Inevitably, a description of such a place will conceive stories that will imply a ‘magical’ environment that lives within the forest, which is a bunch of mysticism nonsense obviously.

However, some will persist living here otherwise.

“I mean do you believe in all of that stuff? People randomly disappearing, seeing a creature, shadows in the distance or anything of the sort…what was that other one again? Something about time that those who come here find odd?”

The peaceful and quiet air filling the cabin is interrupted by a somewhat relaxed voice.

“I’m just concerned about you, Nari.”

As replied with someone with a worried and serious tone.

Oh, the irony.

“Oh please, Cyno. Not me. We’ve been inhabiting our house here for how many years now, five? Six? Whatever it is, we know for a fact that we need someone to maintain this place we’ve always considered our true home, yes?” He tries to hide his annoyance.

“I know. I can handle being by myself just fine and I know I’ll be a maid of this house. I’m not stupidly worried about you like somehow I know the world is going to end later and I want you here by my side before the meteor hits us or something like that.” He replies back, attempting to justify that his worry goes deeper than what his boyfriend have said.

“That’s the spirit, Cyno! Thank you for clearing that up!”

He approaches his man with a hug, pleasantness floating in the air around them as Cyno hugs him back with a bit of relief not from his attempt at reassurance, but from his unexpected optimism.

“It’s just…there’s something else with the stories they tell. Irks me in the wrong places, you know? Or not…” He whispers into his long ears as they both hug his worries away.

His boyfriend then pulls away from the hug and holds his shoulders, making sure that he looks straight at him, like those types of scenes in the plays they have seen in the bazaar.

“Tell me truthfully, Cyno. Do you believe in them?” He asks confrontationally as he looks at him straight in the eyes.

He shakes his head once presented with the question.

“Are you sure? No traces of doubt left within you?” As he forces the issue in order to get it out of his system, and making sure of his feelings so that nothing may be misconstrued.

“Yes, none of it, Nari.” He finally replies as he achingly looks away from him when he let the last words slip past his lips. He glances at the clock on the top of the wall right in front of them:

12:15

Tighnari lets go of his shoulders with leniency expressed on his face.

“Besides, regardless if they’re true or not, I don’t think I should let those possibly false stories stand in the way of my own research. My love for my work is just as great as my love for you, and you’re not immature enough to ask anything like ‘Work or me?’ anyway, which is a great privilege by the way, with how much you’ve reassured me about it. Thank you for that, my love, really…” As he looks back at his love with a smile forming on his lips.

Tighnari had to admit that, hinting at the insecurity he had when faced with a situation like this. Always being stuck at a crossroads between his Cyno and his work at many points in their relationship. Yet, his sweetheart’s maturity have always prevailed. It has never come to a point where he invalidates his passion, and have even always encouraged him to keep pursuing it.

Cyno looks away from the clock and back at him, feeling warmth and fuzziness forming in his chest as they make him return the smile back.

“Let me just say that I don’t want to not talk about this. In fact, I do, and I’m willing to reassure you over and over again! It just didn’t stop me from being all exhausted about it…”

As he maintains his smile while sitting down on the stool beside the wooden counter, folding his arms as he lets his head down, wanting to rest himself for a short while.

Cyno approaches and hugs him around his waist gently from behind, looking to absorb and share some of that emotional fatigue that he’s sure that Tighnari is feeling.

Those types of choices weren’t easy.

He rests his head beside Tighnari’s, rousing some heartfelt intimacy between them.

“I’m sorry for being such a pain in the bottom to deal with, love. I know I’d let my worries take over me for a while. Trust me that this time is truly me you’re talking to right now, alright?”

“As if you’re not such a worrywart everytime we’re together, silly.”

Tighnari giggles.

Cyno giggles back.

He’s right, damn you.

“Here, how about this: Let me tell you a joke. What did the father told his son when returned to his home after buying out milk?” As he says looking at him. He looks to the clock as he waits for his answer, or rather, an attempt at an answer:

12:32

Ah, here we go again…

“What, Cyno?” Tighnari turns his face to that lovely face that made him fall in love hard to the side that was inches away from him as he prepares to keep himself from cringing laughing…

“Nothing. Why? Because the dad never came back. It was one of those running jokes that always implied abandonment issues.” As he said it with the…

…Straightest. Face. Ever.

What followed suit was something unexpected. His boyfriend has never laughed at one of his jokes since they were together…except now. He watches in surprise as Tighnari turns his face away from him and proceeds to laugh. Is it an honest laugh because it was genuinely funny? Or was it a mocking one because it was so bad it’s funny? For Cyno, either way was good enough for him.

Because he managed to be funny and make him laugh.

Cyno hugs Tighnari tighter than before and kisses on Tighnari’s cheek even as his lips would shape into a smile as his love kept on laughing.

I swear to God, don’t their bodies ache from positioning theirselves like this?

Cyno’s music in the room starts to settle as Tighnari’s lets his laugh fall silent. He couldn’t laugh for much longer: It was hurting his muscles and he had to catch his own breath before Cyno indirectly kills him from suffocation.

They let the laughs die down as they silently enjoyed their close presence together.

“So, tell me Cyno, why don’t you want me to go?” His boyfriend asks.

“Huh?”

Cyno faces him with a bewildered look in his face. Still locking his arms around Tighnari’s waist, he wonders what made him ask that kind of question.

“I know you never really believed in those stories in the first place. I know you’re smarter than that, and I know you know it too. Can you confirm in your own feelings that maybe you’re just urging me to not perform my work?” He asked an attacking question, but relaxed in its delivery.

“What are you asking, Nari? It’s just the stories and nothing else…”

Cyno answers as he felt a bit of confusion in Tighnari’s tone of questioning.

“Are you sure, Cyno? Head of the disciplinary division of the Academy, are you sure?” As he continues to press, wanting to confirm his suspicion about him since he brought up his concerns.

…

Cyno’s reply would be the dead air between them, as he sighs and looks back at the clock he’s been staring at all along. Tighnari follows suit as he watches his gaze:

12:48

“I…don’t want you to go.” He finally admits, as his hug would only grow tight and tighter by the minute. He still hadn’t let go of him actually.

“I am that selfish. I really don’t want you to go. I’ve experienced what it’s like to be left by you, and I’ll admit that I don’t want that to happen again.” He reiterates as he closes his eyes, anticipating some of his boyfriend’s sharp comments that he might throw at him.

“I see.” Was all that Tighnari could say.

“You value your work very much, and I appreciate that. My work in the academy is something you know I value highly as well! But yours…” Cyno trails as he tries to keep his voice from trembling. He feels the wetness around his eyes.

“…We both don’t know when I’ll come back.”

Tighnari finishes Cyno’s sentence with a blank look on his face.

Admittedly, his past researches had made him unsure of the longevity of his time away from him. It took him two months for his first, six months for his second, three months for his third, and a year for his fourth! And those are only selected from many! His research is seriously taking lifetimes away from him.

He feels his shoulder shaking and moving, hearing muffled sobbing and sniffing, while he looks straight, towards nothingness.

As the motion on his shoulders gets weaker and weaker made him irresolute, an undecided Tighnari asks his Akasha terminal of the date:

12:52 - Sunday, December 29

He sighs as he realizes what this day means. However, he doesn’t want to tell him, it would stress him even further, and considering how stressed he is right now, it won’t help the situation.

After a little while, the sniffs continued to stop. The wet feeling he had on his shoulders stopped flowing. Slight dampness poured over Tighnari’s clothes.

“You—you claim to say that I…am just as important as your work, right?” Cyno pleads with his boyfriend as let his defenses down and allowed his heart to speak.

“So, stay with me! Don’t go, just this once…”

Cyno is at his most vulnerable now.

He pulled away from Tighnari and waited for his reply.

Just please, stay.

“Cyno…” Tighnari spoke.

“You are the love of my life, and I love you…”

As he stands up from the stool and faces Cyno, paying attention to his eyes that has swelled from crying before, and may swell again.

“But…”

“BUT WHAT?!” Cyno shouts at him instinctively.

Tighnari was stunned in silence and started acting with hesitation in every little movement he makes: From where to put his hands to how he should stand. Those feet seem to be dancing.

…

“I have to do this. I really have to do this, Cyno. You know this has been my entire life…I can’t stop now.”

As Tighnari sighs, realizing the things that he had said, how bitter it would be not just for Cyno but for him as well. Even so, he clings to that little hope that Cyno may come to understand his reasons, like back then before.

There’s no turning back.

“Then GO!” Cyno shouts back at him.

Truth be told, it hurts for him to say that. For such a stoic man to become an emotional mess from a few spoken words is something that he is still getting used to. Tighnari has done that to him, and he didn’t regret any bit of it, but he didn’t expect that he will do it again in this manner.

“Get OUT OF HERE!” He continues to shout as he gestures to the camp and research equipment that Tighnari has prepared.

He turns back as he cannot bear to look at Tighnari anymore.

Never before has been his voice be full of emotions. He had always reserved himself just so he could successfully avoid letting anyone see any possible vulnerabilities he might’ve had, except for his boyfriend. Even then, it had never grown to this magnitude.

“I’ve…I’ve given up! I can do everything yet it absolutely won’t go in my favor…”

Cyno appeared to be beaten by Tighnari’s insistence.

“I’m sorry, Cyno.”

Was all Tighnari could say as he witnessed his boyfriend’s anger.

Cyno mustered all of his emotional stability just so he could only look at Tighnari: Speechless and full of guilt. He never meant to lash out at him like that, but his patience has run out.

Especially not how many times he’d tried before.

Tighnari walked towards Cyno to hug him, regardless if it means anything or not. To see Cyno like this, it was appalling, and he knows full well that it’s his fault. With how long they’ve been together, he somehow hopes that this would not affect their relationship more than it has to.

Cyno sees Tighnari going towards him, expecting a hug like he’d always give, but his expression gave that careless look. Instead, he only seemed to care about the time as he looked at the clock:

12:59

Shit.

Cyno realizes what’s about to happen.

And as he thought of it, he feels his vision getting blurry; darkness enveloping his peripheral vision. A sudden rush of weakness spread throughout his body; especially his legs that are draining from energy that allowed him to move. But now, he doubts if he can even stand for any longer.

“Cyno, what’s wrong?” Tighnari asks him with a curious look, anxiety infecting his tone of voice.

It’s too late…

Cyno tries to speak but to no avail, even just as Tighnari is attempting to support him, he is losing his posture. The muddiness of his head is starting to get heavy and he starts hyperventilating as he tries to get ahold of himself. The panic is setting in.

“CYNO!”

It was the last thing he ever heard from him before pure black took over.

A sudden loud gasp was heard in a bedroom.

The man looked shocked as if he’s had a horrific nightmare. With widened eyes and alert senses, he attempts to recover his distraught state of mind and troubled breathing. His distress prompting him to carefully examine his area to make sure that he’s not in any danger.

After a short while, he manages to compose himself towards a state of normalcy. He’s calmed down at the moment. He finds out that he was sleeping in the cabin. His figure being more relaxed as he grasps this reality. He quickly looks to the empty space on the bed in his right.

Oh, I’m back here again.

He gets his Akasha he removed prior on the drawer without looking as if it's déjà vu, and asks it about the time and date:

8:50 - Saturday, December 28

“Cyno?”

A voice was heard followed by the creaking of a door.

“Cyno, what happened? I heard a loud noise coming from here…”

It’s him.

The man with foxlike ears stared at Cyno with a curious expression.

Cyno inhales and exhales to release any traces of edginess he had experienced waking up.

“It’s fine, Nari. It’s nothing really…” Cyno answers assuredly.

Oh, darling. We’re back here again.

“Well, you better get up! I’ve prepared you breakfast on the counter. Oh, and after that, help me pack my belongings, alright? I know it’s still in midnight but I have a lot of things to carry, okay love?”

Tighnari asks cheerfully.

Cyno would just keep staring back at Tighnari with an innocent look on his gaze.

“Well…?”

Tighnari asks once more.

Do I have to subject myself through all of this again?

Whatever I do, it’s always the same outcome.

We couldn’t even celebrate your birthday this time properly.

It seems so never-ending.

How much long should I be stuck like this?

What’s the meaning of all of it?

“Yes, my Nari. I will help you.”

He answers back with a smile on his face.

His boyfriend would give the largest smile he has ever given him, as a 'thank you' for reflecting his upbeat confidence in helping him with his errand at later midnight.

Hey, that’s the first time since you smiled that big!

“Alright, alright! Well, what are you waiting for? Come with me at the counter and eat before the food gets cold. I’ll give you a kiss after!”

Tighnari remarks as he goes to the living room, leaving Cyno alone.

I never quite realized how much time I’ve been given with Tighnari this way.

Cyno closes his eyes, trying to fathom that sweet but cruel manner of having his time with him.

But is it worth it if he chooses to leave him in the end?

The pain of having to beg for him to stay.

The pain of bearing his priorities for work over me.

…

Maybe.

He sighs.

“I wish it was morning forever…”

#genshin impact #cynonari #cynari #tighnari #cyno

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ilsseongyi · 2 years

Text

hello everyone,,, here is my boy nam seongwon aka seongyi. he is a 27 year old nerd horror fanatic. i honestly dont know how serious i want this kid to be yet or maybe more comedic than serious even. but some mystery is on the way for him so we'll take it in stride. mmm idk how to properly tldr or introduce so check out his points down below! anddd i don't currently have any wanted connections or plots as of now that im writing this preparing for opening sooo drop a like if you're alright with a completely random starter or check out the prompts below !

“fun facts”

stays up late to listen to horror podcasts from around the world. also does late night lives in his room to talk about horror stories and conspiracies in the dark.

usually out of the house at very odd times of the night due to his bad sleeping habits. doesn't run by a particular timezone. so

perpetually tired™

kind of a nerd but like, not the fan type nerds, just really geeky

seems smart...

studied abroad after his freshman year in uni and graduated in the states. ( five years abroad )

went by alex in the states because no one could pronounce his name. aka one of his first friends said "you look like an alex." and his english name was born

wanted to live out the rest of his life in the states, but the job he wanted fell through and he had to return to korea.

arrived after his grandfather's funeral took place and his parents told him to start over by taking over his grandfather's old business — isang wonders

didn't love the idea of returning to ilsang because he's reminded of why he hated his birthname and all the memories of everyone thinking he was a girl before meeting him

lowkey triggered because no one knows he legally changed his name to seongwon years ago so everyone still calls him seongyi

likes gaming from time to time in between his breaks from horror research and whatnot

lives in yeonhwa-gil because he’s in his grandfather’s old home was there. absolutely hates it because it smells like fish like all the time and he also hates eating fish.

a full grown ass man but can’t sell the house because his parents won’t allow him to. lol

dude is only put together when he wants too otherwise,, things are kind of a mess.

honestly a completely different person than when he was in america because lowkey depressed and not all that optimistic being in ilsang

“random starters”

these can all be adjusted and changed as we go! just ideas to get started! reply with the corresponding number if you’d like me to write a starter based off of one of the prompts below!

it’s 3 fucking am and you keep hearing something meowing in the street but it doesn’t sound like the cats you usually hear. you go to look to see if its an injured cat but you find this nutcase in nothing but a tshirt, shorts and sandals meowing to a dark corner. he tells you the electricity went out in his house and he didn’t want to be alone so he’s trying to find a cat to keep him company outside.

you run into seongyi and think he’s a foreigner because he’s speaking fluent english. commence being convinced he’s not a native until he steps in dogshit and starts swearing up a storm.

it’s getting late and the library is closing and they’re kicking you out. but you notice there’s some guy sitting in the corner that they haven’t mentioned and say you’re with him.... now you’ve both been kicked out and seongyi is kindaa annoyed bec he was like five books deep in research and the librarian yelled at him.

the elders of yeonhwa-gil have organized a neighborhood dinner and both you and seongyi were invited. surprise surprise, they only have fish. fish stew. grilled fish. steamed fish. pan-fried fish. just everything you could think of plus fish. seongyi sees you brought something that ISN’T fish and honestly, you’re his new best friend in that moment.

hi yeonhwa-gil neighbor. the plumbing and electricity both stopped working in my house and for some reason the electrician is not picking up his phone. can i use your bathroom. except i keep coming when it’s super late or super early until you get sick of me and tell me to go to just get a room at haedodi.

hey i know you, you’re the guy who makes video and streams online about horror and scary things right? you recognize seongyi from some of his videos maybe or clips of him that have gone around. he has verified social media after all. maybe you guys talk about things in ilsang.

#ilsintro #ooc—#i feel like i forgot something #but stoked to be here #vibratinggg

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projectcaramel · 2 years

Text

Narcissism (END) - Obey Me! Asmodeus

“Dammit, Asmo,” I swore under my breath, groaning against the bathroom door with my towel in hand. For not the first time, I’d been going to take a shower, only to find that Asmodeus had reserved the bathroom. Normally, this wasn’t a problem, but unfortunately, the issues with the House of Lamentation’s plumbing had effectively reduced the number of available showers from five to two, one of which was in Lucifer’s room and which no one wanted to enter for obvious reasons. So we had one shower for seven people. Because of that, we set up a schedule for who could shower when. Asmodeus and Mammon, however, did not stick to that schedule. I didn’t care as much about Mammon, since he only ever took about ten minutes, but Asmo was a different story.

“Ah, Delli~? Is that you outside the door?”

“Yes,” I grunted. “Stop taking long baths whenever you feel like it.”

“But I need to stay beautiful, you know~?”

“I don’t think you need a bath every day, Asmodeus. In the first place, it’s a waste of water.”

“How can you such a thing? It’s not wasted if it’s used on me~”

“Goddammit, I can’t listen to this shit,” I groaned, even as I turned away, only to hear the door opening and feel Asmo tugging on my arm.

“Hey, why don’t you join me?”

“What?” I made the mistake of turning around to see Asmo barely wearing a towel around his waist, water dripping down his body. I tried my hardest not to think about that fact.

“Your skin is even more dry than I thought... aren’t you in pain?” Asmo rubbed my wrists with a somewhat concerned expression. “Actually, more importantly...” He moved closer. “Why not take a bath with me? It’s a great honor, you know?”

“I’ll pass,” I replied coldly before I turned around again, trying to erase the image of Asmodeus’ mostly naked body from my mind. Of course, he was still the same, narcissistic beauty queen. Not to mention completely disregarding whether or not I felt comfortable with the idea of bathing with someone else. I don’t know why I thought that would change after he apologized to me.

...

“Hm? Delli, what’s wrong?”

“Stop calling me that,” I replied, sighing, even as I leaned my head against my desk. It was 4 pm, and I still had work to do from RAD, but I felt so damn exhausted that I wasn’t sure if I could ever do the work I’d been assigned before it was due. “And nothing’s wrong.”

“Hm...” Asmo casually walked into my room to look into my face before he pointed at me. “I knew it! You do have bags under your eyes.”

“So what?” I mumbled, only to make a startled sound as Asmo pulled on my shoulder as he dragged me out of my seat.

“So you need to take a break! Come on, it’ll be just you and me~”

“Asmo, I really can’t—”

“No!” he retorted. “No ifs ands or buts; you and I are going to have a nice spa day, ‘kay?”

“Asmodeus,” I groaned as he dragged me out of the House of Lamentation, straight to his favorite beauty parlor, where he had us both take a bath and massage treatment—thankfully only an hour long.

“You need to relax,” Asmo scolded, even as a young, female demon greeted me, gently asking if I would come with her while another demon made off with Asmo. I certainly thought about saying “no, I have a paper on Devildom law due tomorrow morning”, but at the same time... Asmodeus had already dragged me here and paid for my session... why not at least take a nap while I was here? I could certainly use just a few minutes...

I succumbed to the massage treatment, eventually letting the demon massage my hands. It was enjoyable, I eventually decided, as she kneaded into my flesh, and I gradually got more comfortable with the massage. Maybe I did need the break?

“Ah~ Nothing’s quite like a medicine bath~” My attention turned from the water to Asmodeus, who had stepped into the pool across from me.

“Isn’t this bath for women?” I mumbled sleepily, the addicting heat flushing my body as I indulged in the hot water. When was the last time I’d taken a bath anyway?

“It’s unisex, actually,” Asmodeus replied happily, and I looked up at the ceiling, my mind drifting aimlessly over my thoughts in the midst of my relaxed stupor. “This building is small, so having two separate baths makes it harder for people to relax, you know?”

“Mm... not really.” I closed my eyes. I probably shouldn’t nap here... “...thanks for the massage treatment. I’ll pay you back when we go home.”

“No, I don’t think so.” I opened one eye to see Asmo wading his way towards me. “This is a present. A p-r-e-s-e-n-t, m’kay?” He put his index finger on my nose, and I lazily batted his hand away.

“It’s not my birthday, you know.”

“It doesn’t have to be for you to enjoy yourself~” he hummed. “And... I can’t explain it very well, but I like to see you shining like a little star, even if it’s less brightly than moi. Well~? Do you feel the medicine just cleansing all the toxins from your skin?”

“That’s my liver’s job...” I mumbled, lazily watching the steam swirl around me.

“Geez, you’re just like Satan,” Asmo complained. “Well you’re just helping it along!”

“Mm.” Asmodeus chatted to me about several things until the bath session was over and I was just a little overheated, and I was surprised by how little he talked about himself but instead just about beauty products. In a way, I think I admired his dedication to the subject, even though I didn’t have that much of an interest in it myself. Certainly not as much as him.

“Delli,” he said as he was about to leave me to do my homework, “Make sure you don’t forget to take lots and lots of beauty breaks, ‘kay?”

“...I don’t know about beauty breaks, but...” I smiled a little. “Yeah, I’ll take more breaks...just like today” Asmo smiled widely at me then, and I felt my heart melt a little towards him, even as he waved to me and excused himself to attend to his followers on Devilgram.

I glanced at the pink bottle of nail polish that had been sitting on my dresser, undisturbed since I’d put it there before I faintly smiled at it. I decided I would ask Asmodeus to do my nails tomorrow. And maybe... he could give me a makeover again.

Bonus:

“Wh—ASMO!” I nearly screeched, my underwear around my ankles as I changed for the night. Unfortunately, Asmo had chosen that particular moment to ask if I had a hair tie he could use.

“Hm? Why are you so embarrassed~? I’ve seen it a~ll before~”

“Wha—no you haven’t!” I protested before my voice died as I realized. We shared a bath together. Naked.

Shit.

<< Previous

#saucy #obey me asmo #asmodeus #fanfiction #writing #stories #short story #obey me!#update #bathing #romance #spa day #relaxation #bathtime

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mapsareforbraindeads · 1 year

Note

anyway lots of religious speak and death mentions.

anyway, the fic, it’s based on this SUPER GOOD book called “The Five People You Meet In Heaven”. and L’s in the afterlife. ‘cept it’s like purgatory but different. the lore for the place he’s in is that that’s were people go when God and Satan are arguing over where to send the person, basically. Since it’s Purgatory For Posers, I’ll call it Empty Space.

L’s there to learn a lesson, no, a few lessons, just how the protagonist of the book, Eddie, does. There, he meets five people.

I haven’t decided yet if an equivalent of Marguerite’s character, or a love interest at all, will exist, but if it does, it’ll be Misa. Marguerite is Eddie’s wife, and when he sees her again in heaven, she teaches him about mourning someone dead that you loved basically and how it’s better to move on basically. If Misa existed in this fic and took a role similar to that of Marguerite, her lesson to give him would probably be something about betrayal and how to handle it [like how Light betrayed her, how she betrayed L, how Light betrayed L, it’s a common theme and she would handle it well, I think.]

Marguerite is the third character that the protag of the novel meets, so Misa would probably also be the third person L meets. The first, I’m thinking, would be A. A would teach L what an absolute HORROR HOUSE Wammy’s had been, and how L’s focus on only “what was right” ending up causing him to do lots of things that were really actually wrong. Maybe just give L a reality check on his moral compass in general, basically.

The second person L met would be… Naomi Misora, perhaps? If she had anything to speak to him about, it would be likely questioning, and then answers, as to why. Why he did certain things. Naomi would probably also be the meanest. I don’t have much of an idea of what her lesson would be lolz, but I know I want to include her as one of the five.

The fourth person would be L’s mother. She’d teach him more about mourning, probably comfort him over the fact she died when he was so young, stuff like that. Maybe we can give L daddy issues just for angst’s sake, and then have L’s mommy come in and help him out w/ that. Or just.. give L issues in general. No, she could fix his attachment issues! That! Okay, there. L’s mam talks to him and grieving and apologises for not being there for him, and helps him with his attachment issues.

The fifth person… Watari. The lesson would be hard to make out, maybe up for interpretation, and Watari and L wouldn’t speak to each other much. Maybe the lesson would be about forgiveness. That’d be cool but I know it won’t happen.

I won’t include like.. Light or BB or anything, like I’ll mention them, but I probably won’t consider making them part of the five, because if there was Heaven, Hell, and Empty Space, in that universe, y’all know where Light and BB would go. I’m sorry.

Anyway, there’s my infodump.

OOOOOH that sounds really interesting! i’m intrigued by the idea of L’s mother as well… i love reading fics that expand on trauma

#vari answers #mutuals #🌿 skinnyhedgehog (lawmane ceo)

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puckwritesstuff · 2 years

Note

“ so... is this like, a thing now? “

I've really been enjoying She-Hulk, by the way. ^_^

Thank you for the ask!

---

After everyone else had left, Bruce and Sif helped Sigyn up from the throne. At 22 weeks, even the loosest clothes she could find still showed how pregnant she was, and she was starting to have trouble moving.

“I think we can start cutting these back to once a week,” Sigyn said. “Most people have houses now, and the crisis has died down somewhat. Daily audiences are probably not necessary.”

“I’ll adjust the schedule,” Sif said. “You should get home and rest before starting to work again.”

“Tell that to my call sheet,” Sigyn said.

“I’ll make sure she gets some food in her,” Bruce said.

The door to the Great Hall opened, and a young woman with very curly hair stormed in.

“Robert Bruce Banner!”

Sigyn looked at Bruce, who was slowly turning a very bright shade of red.

“I think that’s for you,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. “If I could have a moment?”

“I’ll get her home,” Sif said.

Sif and Sigyn walked out of the Great Hall.

“I don’t need a…” Sigyn’s voice faded as the door shut. Bruce turned to look at his cousin, who was absolutely fuming.

“Now, Jen—”

“Oh, don’t ‘now Jen’ me!” Jennifer Walters yelled. “You were gone for two years, the world’s gone to hell in a handbasket, and you don’t even think of trying to get in contact with me to let me know you’re alive?”

“Jen—”

“I had to learn from someone handing me a copy of Le Monde— who in L.A. reads Le Monde, by the way, that I was supposed to figure out anything—that you were even on the planet, much less alive and well and living in New Asgard? What the hell is New Asgard?” she asked.

“They’re refugees, their planet was destroyed by—”

“Not to mention the fact that everyone just vanished,” she continued. “I tried getting in touch with Avengers HQ to see if they had any clue to what was going on with you, but I guess the people that used to work the phones are gone— and again, how was I supposed to know what happened? How were any of us? Do you have any idea what the last two years have been like for your mother?”

Bruce looked away.

“How is—”

“She’s gone, Bruce,” Jen said. “So’s everyone else. It’s just you and me.”

He shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “We tried to stop it.”

Jen paused. “I’m sure you did. But did you even think about getting in touch with anyone, to see if we’d made it?”

“I guess not,” he said. “There was a lot going on.”

She crossed her arms. “So what are you even doing here?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Sig needed help— she still needs help— and when she asked me to come, it… it was something I could help with. This is real, and I guess I needed something solid that felt like there was an actual difference being made.”

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of like that everywhere.”

“Plus, I don’t exactly have a place,” Bruce said. “I mean, I was staying with Tony, but he got beat up pretty bad and I didn’t feel comfortable, you know… plus before that, I wasn’t exactly working a nine-to-five with a house in the suburbs.”

Jen snorted. “Yeah, no kidding. But did you think I wouldn’t put you up?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think about it. And Sig asked, so—”

“That’s not your kid is it?” she asked.

Bruce’s face turned beet red. “Jen!”

She put her hands up. “Just asking!”

“I mean, let’s ignore the fact that I can’t, you know— and seriously? She just lost her husband,” he said.

“I did hear about that,” Jen said.

“Look, do you have a place to stay for the night?” Bruce said. “That’s a long flight to LA, fuzzball, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“Yeah, but I gotta get back,” she said. “I didn’t even book a return flight, I just was so mad at you that…”

“I guess anger issues run in the family, huh,” Bruce said, trying to laugh it off.

Jen paused. “Okay, Bruce, I get that your dad was an asshole.”

Bruce looked away.

“But that doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t care,” she said. “I mean, doesn’t mean that I don’t care.”

He nodded. “I know. If you need to get back, Sig can get you there quick.”

They started walking out of the Great Hall.

“So… is this, like, a thing now?” Jen asked.

“I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about,” Bruce said.

“You and the King of Asgard,” Jen said. “I mean you said yes to ‘come live with me halfway around the world and help me build an entire country’, you’re calling her by a nickname, you’re essentially sleeping on her couch, and if you put aside the fact that she’s a widow and pregnant, I saw the photos of her first appearance at the UN, she is—”

“I could also put you on that eighteen-hour flight back home,” Bruce said.

“I’ll shut up.”

#prompt #fanfiction #sigyn #bruce banner #jennifer walters #Love Duty and Glorious Purpose fic #LDGP Main Timeline

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luisishere · 1 year

Text

Stuck: Halted Progress

Making time to cut my teeth and flex my writer muscles was one obstacle I’ve overcome. I’ve made some progress with sitting down and writing. It’s not a lot of momentum, but I was inching forward… until now.

It’s the third day in a row that I’ve sat down to write. The last two days I had this energy and drive to get words down.

Today I’m stuck.

I was not sure what to write about. I already discussed starting over, and the struggle to find my voice. I have a lot more to say about struggling to express myself as a writer and artist, but I don’t have my thoughts gathered enough to write about it.

So, today I’m stuck. I figured I’d write about that.

I haven’t experienced a lot of writer’s block throughout my writing adventures. Whenever I felt like I was stuck or blocked, I would move on to something else; another part of the story, a different story entirely, work on plot or outline, or do whatever research I needed for the story. Usually, that passage of time is enough for me to come back to where I was stuck on.

I didn’t want the morning to go by without writing, so I figured I’d tackle the notion of being stuck in the moment, and maybe practice expressing what I’m feeling.

The reason I’m stuck is because (I’ve paused for five strait minutes now) I am drawing a blank. I have a lot of ideas and opinions on many subjects, but I’m having a hard time picking something that I feel would be worthy of reading. It’s like having Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime, Paramount+, Disney+, HBO Max, Peacock, Apple TV+, all in one place, and still struggling to decide what to watch.

How do I feel? Several things: frustrated because I’m struggling to make this interesting. I spent time looking at hosting platforms yesterday, thinking I wanted to take this particular blogging activity up a few levels. That would mean paying for hosting, a domain name, and other things associated with developing a website. I’d be paying to post this. Would you spend time reading? Probably not.

I also feel anxious. I have a lot of knowledge about creativity, art, design, and writing… but I feel like I’m not putting that knowledge to good use. It’s difficult to express this emotion, because I’m struggling with the notion that this is a worthy use of my time. I’m also struggling with the fact that no one will read this, because it’s not interesting. I find it difficult to write about myself, and this bleeds into a lot of my struggle of self-expression.

Having reread the last two paragraphs, I see that I’ve expressed some emotion, but its not very poetic. That’s another struggle to examine for another time. I only mention it now because it bleeds into the subject as a whole. I get stuck because I want my output to look good, be worthy of someone’s time, and (eventually) be published professionally.

We are our own worst critic, and today, the critic has had twelve cups of super-caffeinated coffee and has grown to be twenty feet tall, and is punching the back of my head, telling me to erase this entry and clean the house. Especially after that last run-on sentence.

So, from today’s writing I’ve learned that being stuck is a product of several things: self-criticism, self-doubt, and perfectionism. What I also learned is this: I pushed through it. It may not be pretty, but I did it. Every step I take is a step forward.

The work continues.

#writing

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the-letter-horror-lover · 2 years

Text

Alexander rolled his eyes. “I knew there must be something more important than me.” He said in an equally joking tone, before kissing Rena on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon. One week from your birthday, don’t forget.”

Rena smiled, walking her brother to the door. “I won’t.”

“I waited all that day at the gate for him. I kept watching long after everyone else had given up hope. He had promised to return, so I believed he would. For the next three years, I always spent that day exactly one week after my birthday at the gate. Eventually, I accepted that he wasn’t coming back. My father died three years ago, and I took my first position as governess at seventeen for a family ten miles away. My other sister had married, and while the house had been left to me, we had lost much of our money over the previous five years, making it impossible to keep up. So I sold it, and began making my own living.” Rena finished her story, feeling empty after telling all this to Sebastian. He had taken up Ciel’s evening snack, and was now kneading more dough, this time for bread.

He had listened quietly, and while Rena suspected any sympathy was fake, it was surprisingly nice to have someone simply listen to her. She had not opened up fully about her brother in years, and while she had told a few people about the basics of his disappearance -- including Ciel and Sebastian, as a matter of fact -- she had not explained her full relationship with him to anyone who had not known them.

Now, Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. “So you do not know where your brother was going, or where he is now?”

Rena shook her head. “No,” she said quietly, standing up. “I dearly wish I did. If you’ll excuse me, I believe I will retire for the night.” Sebastian simply nodded, and Rena walked up the stairs to her room. Quickly preparing for bed, she slipped between the sheets. She fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of her brother, his disappearance, and the twisting shadows on the wall.

Alexander’s disappearance would be six years the day after tomorrow — something she had neglected to mention to Sebastian.

It was unlikely Alexander would find her here, anyways.

Notes:

Common Sense Tip, Ignored:

…I feel like this is self-explanatory. Don’t make the creepy butler (who you know has a totally different loyalty) your confidante.

Today was an original storyline thing for character background and bridging purposes. I’ve decided to go with the manga timeline, with the occasional short anime storyline blended in. :)

Chapter 13: Play by Hand

Notes:

play by hand — chess term: an idiomatic expression meaning to make a move without analyzing the move.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rena glanced at the calendar. It was the 12th of December. She had been here for nearly four months. She smiled wryly. It would only be another four months until the Campania sunk. Rena was struck by the short time span that she was truly aware of. Only about a year of Ciel’s life. She would have to make some sort of plan for beyond that point. Why bother? She thought. I’m only a governess anyways. I will be one then as well.

For some reason, that thought discouraged her. She had never managed to figure out why she had been dumped here, of all places. Perhaps it was some sort of cosmic joke on her, that all her education would lead to her lying and scheming simply to live, while disguised as an upper-class schoolmarm. I don’t even like kids. Rena grimaced into the mirror at her perfectly done hair and neatly pressed clothing. Another day begins, she sighed to herself. Stepping out of her room, she nearly ran into Sebastian. “Excuse me, Mr. Michaelis.” She said.

Even pushing a tea cart, Sebastian managed to bow politely. “Good morning, Miss Remington . I trust you slept well?”

Rena nodded, and Sebastian continued on towards Ciel’s room. Ever since she had told him about Alexander, he had been especially polite towards her. She wasn’t sure what that meant, or how she felt about it. She almost preferred the days when he would pin her against a wall, trying to intimidate her. Almost preferred it. At least then she had known what their relationship was and where they stood. Continuing on, Rena stepped into the kitchen for a cup of tea. The servants were there, in various states of unconsciousness. Baldroy was dozing, head down on the table, while Mey-Rin was drooping slightly, playing with a daisy. Only Tanaka looked fully awake, but then, he always looked approximately the same. Pouring herself a cup of tea, Rena sat down at the table. “Good morning,” she said cheerily. “How is everyone?”

She didn’t get much more than a quiet, “ho, ho, ho” from Tanaka and a mumble of, “too early” from Baldroy before Finny burst into the room.

“Hey! Listen everyone!” he shouted. “We have a problem!”

Rena looked at him curiously and Mey-Rin finally piped up. “What’s the matter?” She asked.

Finny looked exasperated, and Rena racked her brain for what she was missing. It was probably in her memory journal, but she couldn’t recall it at the moment. “Seriously, did everyone forget?! It’s a very special day!” He pointed at the calendar behind Tanaka, and a lightbulb went off in Rena’s brain. Marchioness Frances Middleford was visiting today, with Elizabeth. She jumped up.

“I have a feeling that I’ll be required out front quite soon,” she announced. “I would recommend you all get to work.” Rena, knowing full well disaster would occur with all the others, nearly ran towards the foyer to avoid her own misfortune, only slowing down as she entered the room. Ciel and Sebastian were coming down the stairs, Ciel looking ruffled and harried, with Sebastian looking somewhat calmer, but still rushed. Rena smiled at them. “I see you also forgot about the Marchioness’s visit.”

Sebastian did not respond, but Ciel huffed. “She isn’t supposed to arrive until this afternoon, but this is Aunt Frances.”

Rena laughed slightly. “I must admit, I am looking forward to meeting the Marchioness. She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

Sebastian smirked as Ciel muttered something under his breath. A carriage was rumbling up the lane, and Rena mentally prepared herself. Frances Midford was a force of nature. As she left the carriage, Ciel greeted her. “It has been a while, Marchioness. You’ve arrived earlier than expected…”

Frances cut him off. “Spare me the formalities. You look as if you’ve just risen, Earl Phantomhive. Who is this next to you?” She turned to Rena.

Rena curtsied. “I am his governess, Miss Theresa Remington, Marchioness.”

Frances made a small “hmm” before rounding on Elizabeth, who had flung herself at Ciel. “Do not behave so rudely…” She berated Elizabeth, who practically melted onto the ground in shame. Rena caught Sebastian attempting to subtly slip out of the Marchioness’s line of sight, but she turned on him next, combing his floppy hair back as Ciel rejoiced in his freedom, only to have his hair also forcibly flattened.

Rena noted that she had so far been the only one to avoid the Marchioness’s discipline. She wondered if that was her rank, or that she has somehow passed inspection.

She rather suspected it was the former.

However, the group was now moving back towards the house. Rena, feeling no need to watch the horrors that Sebastian would be forced to divert from, decided to simply slip away to the stables. She could, at least, make sure those were clean, as the group would eventually end up there, if her memory served.

Arriving out at the stables, she found them relatively tidy. Checking each stall individually, Rena hiked up her skirts — stupid things, she thought — and made sure the water and hay were clean in each. After refilling two buckets and tossing fresh hay into three holders, she let down her skirts and got a brush, seeing that her own horse was looking slightly dull. The party came in a couple minutes later.

“We sent for it to serve as our master’s steed.” Sebastian was saying, and Rena poked her head out to watch. Frances Midford seemed pleased as well.

“A fine horse, indeed. The hip is sturdy, and it looks well.” She spun around suddenly. “What think you, Miss Remington?”

Rena froze momentarily. She had no idea that the Marchioness had even seen her. “I… I think it an excellent horse as well, Marchioness. It is well-bred.”

Frances stalked over to Rena, who was still holding a brush against her horse. “Hmm. And this…” She ran a hand over the shoulder and down the leg. “Sturdy, but still delicate. Appears healthy. Three or four years old…” She looked at Rena. “This is a gentlewoman’s horse. Is it yours?”

Rena only nodded, and Frances gave her a piercing stare. “Hmm.” She turned back to Ciel, and appraised him. “I have it. What say we do a little hunting together?” She walked back over without so much as a glance at Rena, for which she was grateful. The Marchioness was far too sharp for her comfort. She had not anticipated that.

Thankfully, it appeared Frances Midford considered her beneath her rank, as most others did. The party left, and Rena breathed freely again. They were going hunting, and Rena understood herself to not be invited. Besides, she thought, Sebastian will take care of the bear. She finished grooming her horse — who looked much better now — and dusted herself off before returning to the house.

She was immediately accosted by Mei-Rin.

“Miss Rena! We’re going to decorate for the Masters birthday, yes!”

Rena smiled. “I sense a request for my help.”

Mei-Rin nodded. “Sebastian let us know that we had about four hours. With the five of us, we should be able to get everything done. Finny is decorating with roses, Bard is cooking, I’m setting the table, and Tanaka —“

Rena interrupted. “What would you like me to do?”

Mei-Rin set Rena to making sure the vases and dishes were clean, a task Rena was grateful for. Knowing the servants, there would be little she could do to make the dining room presentable or keep them from injuring themselves, and she would prefer to not be caught in the middle of it. So, as small explosions and other sounds of questionable safety emanated from the dining room, Rena quietly played chess in her head.

She should have anticipated Frances Midford’s sharp mind. The only thing she could do now is hope her normal stories and her interest in fencing would serve to allay any suspicions. As the four hours ran down, she slipped into the dining room. Sure enough, it was a mess, however, only Tanaka was there. Rena nodded cordially at him and began to straighten up flowers and plates. It was less horrifying than Rena had expected, however, it needed a delicate touch. As she was straightening up a vase, she heard a voice behind her.

“Miss Remington.”

Rena smiled and turned around, coming face to face with a full-size Tanaka.

“Mister Tanaka. What a surprise.”

He chuckled. “Indeed. I’ve been meaning to speak with you for some time.” He took a seat, and motioned for Rena to sit as well. Once she did, he spoke again.

“I feel that you know more about this house and its inhabitants than you let on.”

Rena thought quickly. Of all the people in this house, Tanaka was possibly the most trustworthy, and it was unlikely that he would speak ill of her if he sensed no danger. So she inclined her head in assent, and waited for him to speak again.

“Yet I do not feel that you mean us harm. I am curious, however, where exactly you come from,” Tanaka held up a hand as Rena opened her mouth to speak, “And I do not wish for you to tell me the same thing you have told the others. There is something else about you, Miss Remington. I do not believe you are from here. Perhaps another world?”

Rena could do nothing but open and close her mouth repeatedly. When she finally managed to speak, she had dropped every upper-class mannerism she had adopted.

“Oh geez.” She groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Tanaka chuckled.

“As I said, I do not sense any ill intentions. Perhaps you would like to tell me your real name?”

Rena rubbed her forehead. “Rena Snyder. And yes, that is my full name.”

Tanaka nodded. “So the name you gave the others…?”

“My grandmother’s.”

“And your real occupation?”

“I worked in a clothing shop and a coffee stand.”

“How did you come by your impressive knowledge?”

“I went to college.”

Tanaka nodded again. “Now you are telling the truth.”

Rena chuckled ruefully. “When did you figure it out?”

Tanaka smiled. “When you sat down with me to tea. I heard more behind your voice than what you spoke. It was too perfect for the truth. Ciel has not lived long enough to hear it, and the demon may suspect, but he keeps his own thoughts to himself until it benefits him to speak them.”

Rena glanced up. “You know what he is?” Rena had suspected that Tanaka knew, but here was confirmation.

Tanaka sighed. “Yes, I do. I occasionally regret not making my concerns known. However, I have learned something in my years, and that is that sometimes, people do not want to be saved from their folly… oh, dear.”

Rena jumped up. “What’s the matter?”

Tanaka shook his head. “I appear to be running out of time. But do know that your secret is safe with me.” He touched Rena’s wrist and locked eyes with her. “Do be careful, but keep an eye on Ciel. Perhaps you can succeed where I have failed.” With that, he shrunk back to mini Tanaka, and gave a soft “ho, ho, ho.” He picked up his teacup, and began sipping at it once more.

Rena nodded. “I’ll do my best.” She said softly, receiving another “ho, ho, ho” in response.

A few moments later, the dining room had been straightened to a presentable state, and the other servants trooped back in a few seconds later, in tatters and covered in bandages. Rena shook her head, slipping back into her high-class governess mode. “Perhaps I should have been supervising you this afternoon.”

Bard grinned. “Ah, it’s not that bad. A few scrapes and bruises, that’s all.”

Rena poked Bard’s bandaged right arm, causing him to wince. “Scrapes and bruises?” She raised her eyebrow.

Bard rubbed the back of his head with his undamaged hand. “Might have been some burns too.” He grumbled.

Rena grinned, but straightened her face almost immediately when she heard Sebastian’s voice. “They’re back.” She slipped into the back of the room, letting the other servants greet Ciel with their typical exuberance. Rena watched as the Marchioness wished Ciel a happy birthday, tease Sebastian about the destroyed rooms, and be drawn into the happy group as Sebastian slipped away to the kitchen. Glancing between the two — and remembering Tanaka’s words from only a short while before — she followed Sebastian, reaching the kitchen as he pulled out a cake he had baked earlier in the day. She spoke up.

“It would be a shame to let that go to waste.”

Sebastian turned around. “Miss Remington. Why are you not enjoying the festivities upstairs?”

Rena smiled. “It is a little… loud for my tastes. Besides, I don’t trust Bard’s cooking.”

Sebastian chuckled, but did not respond. He handed a slice of the cake to Rena, along with a fork. Rena dug in, but stopped when she noticed Sebastian staring out the window, one glove off and licking what appeared to be frosting off of his fingers. “So, our butler isn’t quite as above it all as he’d like us to think.” Rena gently teased, even as she kicked herself mentally. Sure, tease the one person who can kill you with a thought. Yeah, great plan, Rena.

Sebastian hummed. “I was simply wondering how you and the young master find this delicious.”

Don’t tip your hand. “Is it not to your taste?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Very little is.”

Rena nodded. “That must be miserable.”

Sebastian turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “It can be. I must ask, Miss Remington, why you seem to be seeking out my company more often these days. As I recall, you and I have never been friends.”

Rena forced her voice to remain calm. “Perhaps I have found that we have more in common than I first thought.”

Suddenly, Sebastian was looming over her, in a manner very similar to that of some of their first interactions. “And what would those similarities be?”

Rena gave an involuntary shudder, immediately regretting her desire for the simplicity of their formerly antagonistic relationship. “We both wish for the well-being of the Earl. We are both chess pieces in his game. And we have both signed contracts with him for our own reasons.” What are you doing? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Rena kicked herself mentally, tensing up, even though she knew running would be impossible.

Sebastian backed off ever so slightly, but smirked. “An interesting choice of words, Miss Remington.”

“Indeed? I was merely speaking of our employments under the Earl.” Rena responded quickly, hoping against hope she had not made a fatal error.

Sebastian, thankfully, did not seem to be interested in killing her at the moment. “Indeed.” He returned to the window. “It is snowing.” He commented. “I would go enjoy it with the others.”

Rena recognized a request for solitude, which she was more than happy to give. Walking quickly towards the door, she was about to leave when Sebastian spoke again.

“If you are concerned about me, please do not trouble yourself. I am quite content.”

The two met eyes and Rena regarded him for a moment.

“If I was concerned, I would not be here.” Rena left then, leaving a confused Sebastian in the kitchen. She walked back to the dining room, composing herself along the way so that nobody would notice anything off. If she lived through the next few months… she would be finding a way out of the Phantomhive manor as soon as possible.

Notes:

Common Sense Tip of the Day, 100% ignored:

Don’t play word games with the master of word games. You are not as clever as them. It will not end well.

Chapter 14: Plan

Notes:

plan -- chess term: A strategy employed in a specific position to optimize a player's advantages while minimizing the impact of positional disadvantages.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rena sipped at her tea as snow fell outside the back window. The Undertaker was sitting a few feet away, his feet up on an extra coffin, hugging an urn and munching on two or three of the biscuits stored in it. Rena had let her hair out of its normal style to allow it to dry after walking through the snow an hour or so before, and the two were sitting in a companionable silence at the moment, having just finished a conversation about an unusual guest the Undertaker had fixed up recently. The Undertaker broke the silence first.

“So, m’dear… what brings the Earl to town at this time of the year?”

Rena shrugged and leaned over to steal one of the Undertaker’s biscuits, which he gave up with a giggle. “Why would I know? I am merely his governess, after all.”

“Now, dearie~” The Undertaker teased. “We both know that’s not true.”

Rena smirked, biting into the crispy dog treat. “Perhaps~” She responded in the same tone before returning to normal. “However, I do happen to know in this case. You may have heard of the men hung upside down outside of cafes around London?”

The Undertaker nodded sagely. “Ah~ Interesting. Indeed, there was one only a few blocks from here attacked last night.”

Rena hummed softly. “I suspect that’s where the Earl is, then. He mentioned something about heading out this morning to investigate a new scene.”

“Then why are you not with him~?”

“It’s my day off, remember?”

The Undertaker giggled. “I’m impressed he hasn’t renegotiated that deal~”

Rena shrugged. “I’m sure he’s thought about it. However, he does want to keep me around, so he allows me this.” As she spoke, Rena began to run her fingers through her long hair, removing some tangles that had formed. It had taken several months to get used to the length, but she had become accustomed to taking care of it. Styling it in anything other than a simple bun was still difficult, but her position rarely called for more than that. As she combed through her hair, the Undertaker sat up a bit and set his urn of biscuits to the side, moving over to her side. As her fingers got caught on a particularly bad knot, his hands wrapped around hers and removed them from her hair. Blushing slightly, Rena allowed him to take over, enjoying the feeling of his hands untangling and styling her hair.

Rena continued speaking as he worked, trying to think through what she remembered of this arc beyond the appearance of Agni and Soma. “This case is interesting, though. Apparently, the perpetrator has been leaving notes. Scotland Yard thinks it’s a taunt against the Queen, but I don’t think so.” A hum from the Undertaker was all the response she got, and she kept going. “They’re saying it’s one of the Indians. Have you heard anything?” Rena tilted her head back to look at the Undertaker. His hands stopped working for a moment as he thought.

“I don’t think it’s any of the normal residents. I heard of a pair of Indians who’ve come to the area recently. Might check them first.” His voice was less scratchy and more of the deep, pleasant tone that Rena had only heard on a couple of occasions. She hummed in thanks, before relaxing as the Undertaker kept working on her hair. A few moments later, she spoke up again, feeling encouraged by how relaxed the Undertaker seemed at the moment.

“Undertaker… can I ask you a question?”

His fingers didn’t stop this time. “Perhaps~” He said, echoing her words from earlier, but still with the relaxed tone. “What do you want to know?”

“What’s your name?” The Undertaker froze, and Rena immediately regretted asking. “I’m sorry, if you don’t want to —”

“I don’t remember.” He admitted, cutting her off. “I’ve been called the Undertaker for as long as I can recall.”

Rena turned to look at him. “That seems sad.”

He shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

“But still, to not know your own name…”

“You changed yours too.” He pointed out, causing Rena to stare blankly at him. “It’s not like I was named the Undertaker from the start.~ It’s just been so long since that it’s become my name.”

Rena stuttered. “H-How did you know I changed my name?”

A soft chuckle as the Undertaker turned her head to finish with her hair. “You were still hesitating slightly on the full name when you first introduced yourself to me. You were only natural when you asked me to call you Rena. Care to share why?”

Rena sighed. “First Tanaka, now you. I thought I was smarter than this.”

Undertaker giggled. “Tanaka is exceptionally observant. I’d have been more surprised if he didn’t know. Now, if the butler finds out…” He trailed off.

Rena sighed. “I’m sure he already knows. I may have… been somewhat foolish.”

The Undertaker’s hands went to her shoulders and he came around in front of her, bending down to look directly into her eyes. “What did you do?”

“Tried to be friends with him.” Rena admitted, turning her eyes away from the hidden gaze.

The grip on her shoulders tightened. “Has he told the Earl?”

Rena shook her head. “I don’t believe so. I think he’s biding his time. He warned me off, so I’m keeping my distance.”

The Undertaker relaxed slightly, but he sighed and touched his forehead to Rena’s. “Don’t be scaring me like that~. I’d miss our Sunday tea together~”

Rena smiled slightly as she closed her eyes. “So would I.” She whispered, not willing to be the first to move away. Over the past several months, she had realized that she quite liked the Undertaker. She was fully aware that he was probably at least partially insane, and would probably kill her as soon as save her, but she was coming to rely on her Sundays with him. When he was out at a funeral or for some other reason, leaving his shop locked, she always found herself deeply disappointed.

The two stayed there for a few moments until the Undertaker backed away suddenly. “I ha~te to cut our visit short, but I have a customer~!” The manic grin was back, and he giggled. “You can go out the back~. It wouldn’t do for anyone to know you were here, after all~” He swayed away towards the front of the shop, waving over his shoulder. Rena shook her head in disbelief at the flip in behavior, and disappointment over the relatively short visit. She gathered her coat and hat, and went out the back door.

As she walked, she became lost in thought, and nearly ran into a pair of strangers. “I am sorry.” She said, curtseying. “I should…” She trailed off as she looked up and saw exactly who they were.

The shorter one held out his hand to her. “It is entirely our fault. Your English streets are confusing. Say, have you seen someone who looks like this?” A piece of paper was held out to Rena, and she looked at it, maintaining a straight face with some difficulty.

“I am afraid not.” She replied.

“Oh. Well, thank you. Excuse us.” Both bowed to her, then continued on their way.

Rena turned to watch them go. She hadn’t gotten a good look at either of them, which she was annoyed about. It would be later that evening before she would be able to read either of them, unless…

Rena heard a commotion a few blocks away. Suspecting — but not entirely certain — what it was, she hurried over there, hiding in an alleyway.

Sure enough, she could see Sebastian and Ciel at the center of a group of Indians, who were all shouting various insults. Smirking, she leaned back against the wall. She had no reason to get involved, and she was certain it would change things drastically should she do so.

Two people walked out of an alley across from her, and the shorter one held up a piece of paper. Rena chuckled. Sure enough, Agni and Soma had looped around as well. An interesting duo. Rena studied the two, even though it was difficult to read them from this far away. Soma had little to offer her, but Agni’s face was more interesting. Rena felt a tug at her heart as she remembered his future, but ignored that for the more important, in-the-moment details. The resulting misunderstanding and confrontation only took a few moments, but Rena found every one enjoyable. A chance to see Agni’s hand in action interested Rena greatly. If she wished to survive in the short term, Agni may be useful. He was a match for Sebastian at most times, and he was warm-hearted. He’d be likely to protect her if it came down to it, even though his first priority was, of course, Soma.

As the two strolled away and Ciel and Sebastian were left standing in the middle of the road with a pile of unconscious figures and a suddenly appearing Lau, Rena turned and walked away. Her interest in this scene was over. She should go home and prepare some lessons for Ciel, and make sure the others weren’t burning down the townhouse.

Rena walked into the townhouse a half-hour later, hanging up her coat and hat on the nearby rack. She listened carefully for the sounds of disaster, but heard none. Nodding in satisfaction, she walked up to her room here in the townhouse. It was quite different from the one at the manor, but in a good way. Whereas the other was dark and ancient in many ways, this one was lighter and more airy, with warmer tones. Rena appreciated the change, though it seemed often at odds with her moods in the evenings. Rena had taken to writing in a diary as well as her timeline journal. As each day passed, she found it increasingly difficult to remember things she had known a month ago about who she really was and what she wanted to do, so she had begun the little black diary to remember her old life and what she had lied about that day. Rena locked her door and pulled both of these books out from the hidden panel in her wardrobe that she had found on her first night here, as well as Ciel’s schoolbooks.

Flipping through the textbooks, she refreshed her memory on 16th century history and literature. It was sort of nice to be using her major again, but this had thrown into sharp focus exactly why Rena had rejected teaching as a career. Grading homework, preparing the next day’s lessons… she had given herself the position of governess as a convenient one that she was qualified for, but she certainly didn’t enjoy it. As she reviewed the science of this era, she found her mind wandering. Propping her chin on her hand, she tapped her quill on the desk thoughtfully. It was the beginning of 1889. The Campania was only four months away. The circus was only a little over two. Rena blanched when she thought of the children from the circus, but recovered quickly. No use worrying about the future at the moment.

Rena began scribbling again, hoping to finish the lessons before Ciel arrived back. It was quite likely that he would request her presence as soon as he arrived. She had just finished writing when she heard the door close and the servants all clatter to greet Ciel. Rena sighed and grabbed her notebook once more to check the order of events for the evening, flipping through it as quickly as possible. Not much of note, besides Agni taking over the kitchen. Rena stuffed her two personal books back into the wardrobe as she heard the door close a second time. Straightening her dress, she straightened up and began walking calmly towards the entryway. As she walked, she nearly ran into Agni. He bowed.

“My apologies. I am looking for a bed for my prince.”

Rena smiled and pointed. “There’s one in that room.”

Agni started to bow again, then stood up straight. “You are the lady my prince and I nearly ran into earlier today!” He exclaimed, and Rena held a finger to her lips.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t mention that to the Earl. If you would kindly ask the prince to refrain from doing so as well, I would be grateful.”

Agni, to his credit, did not question this somewhat strange request, instead nodding and hurrying back to Soma to inform him that he had found a bed for him to relax on. Rena chuckled and followed after him, nearly being mowed down by the rest of the servants. As Ciel and Sebastian rounded the corner, she put on a perfectly surprised expression. “Who are our guests?”

Ciel didn’t respond, being too flustered by the sudden appearance of Soma and Agni. Sebastian, however, slowed down long enough to speak. “Just two people we met today while we were out. Don’t be concerned.”

Rena nodded, pretending to be convinced. “Very well.” Rena began to walk away, as Sebastian ran to catch up with Ciel. Rena considered going to talk with Soma, but reasoned that she wouldn’t get anywhere with all the others around, and it was unlikely Agni had told Soma not to say anything about her yet. It was safer to stay away — and besides, she didn’t want to be in the same room with Sebastian at the moment.

Still, Rena knew the next few days would be rather entertaining with this new addition to the board.

Notes:

Common Sense Tip, Maybe Taken?:

Do attempt to make friends with perhaps the one relatively moral person in the whole. entire. world. They’re the person least likely to murder you unexpectedly. Which, if you’re going to be an IDIOT, is a good thing.

I read chapter 127 a few days ago and I’m still sad. :(

Chapter 15: Building a Bridge

Notes:

building a bridge -- chess term: Making a path for a king in the endgame by providing protective cover against checks from line-pieces. A well-known example is the Lucena position.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rena sat in her room, chuckling to herself as chaos reigned down below. Agni and Soma had only arrived the evening before, and yet Agni had managed to integrate himself fully. Indeed, that morning Rena had woken up to light streaming into her room through suddenly opened curtains, and the smiling face of Agni.

“Good morning, my lady. I have been made aware that you must wake up far earlier than the rest of the family. I have brought your morning tea, which I was also informed you drink before breakfast. I have used a Masala chai blend from India, I hope you are satisfied.” Agni bowed slightly, and Rena smiled in return.

“Thank you, Agni. You should not have troubled yourself. However, I must inform you, I am not a lady, I am merely a governess.”

Agni bowed again. “Very well, Miss Theresa.”

Rena chuckled. “Please, call me Rena.”

Agni nodded with another smile, and moved to leave the room. Rena held up a hand.

"Do stay for a moment, Agni. I wish to speak with you.” Rena dropped the smile she had been wearing as Agni came closer once again. Rena motioned to a chair nearby, and Agni sat. Rena took a deep breath, deciding to take a calculated risk. “As I have said, I am the Earl’s governess. However, there are a few things I would like to say now, so that you do not hear of them second-hand or under less than ideal circumstances. I would like there to be as few secrets between us as possible. However, I must ask you two questions before I begin. Have you told the Prince not to speak of our meeting on the street, and are you capable of keeping what I am about to tell you a complete secret from everyone, even the Prince?”

Agni regarded her seriously. “I have told the Prince of your wish for secrecy. I must admit, he did not understand at first, but he promised, and once he makes a promise, he will not break it. As for myself, unless what you tell me endangers my Prince in any way, you have my silence.”

Rena nodded. “Thank you, on both counts. The first thing I must say is more or less harmless. I have every Sunday off, and while the household remains in ignorance of where I go, I choose to visit a local mortician who goes by the name of Undertaker. The visits are purely social in nature, as we have become friends during my time with the Phantomhive household. I tell you this because I may disappear someday, and if so, you will perhaps find me there, whether dead or alive, I do not know.”

Agni nodded solemnly, and Rena continued. “The second is that I have the ability to read other’s intentions, feelings, and moods by looking into their eyes. I have had this ability ever… ever since my brother disappeared six years ago. I tell you this because I do not wish for you to feel betrayed should I be asked to use it on either you or the Prince, as it disturbs some people that I have this ability. I cannot read your exact thoughts, only your emotions and intentions.”

Agni nodded again. “We are given many gifts, Miss Rena. I assure you, I am not surprised that you are able to do such a thing.”

Rena smiled slightly in thanks, before taking another deep breath, steeling herself for the last item on her list. “I must admit, I am taking a great risk in saying this, and I would not do so unless I felt it to be absolutely necessary. What I must say is that while the others believe me to be a mere governess, I am far more than that. I have crafted a life for myself in this world, but…” Rena released her remaining breath in a rush, setting her teeth. “This world is not my own.”

Agni’s eyes widened, and Rena held up a hand. “Allow me to explain. This may seem strange, but please, allow me to finish before you pass any judgement on me.” Rena spoke quietly and quickly, giving Agni the short version of her story, leaving out the fact that she knew everyone’s future and fates. She told him of her true family, and the one she had crafted here. She told him about the way she had found herself entering this world, finishing her story with her arrival in the Phantomhive household.

“I would not have told you this, except for the fact that I daily fear for my life and well-being. There may come a day when I need to flee the household for the sake of my life. I cannot be part of the Earl’s game forever, and indeed, it is doubtful he would allow me to be so should he learn of what and who I am. Should that day come, I will need friends who know of my true past to help me. I hope I can count you among those friends, and the Prince as well, though he must not know any of what I have just told you, for his own safety.” Rena felt her heart pounding in her chest as she awaited Agni’s response. Please tell me I didn’t just royally screw up, Rena thought, beginning to panic.

Agni finally spoke, his tone calm and reassuring. “I cannot explain to you nor tell you what your purpose in this world is. I can tell you that no word of what you have told me will pass my lips without your permission. I have only known you for a few hours, Miss Rena, and yet you strike me as a person who wishes only the best for others while carrying your own pain deep within your heart. I assure you, should your fears come to pass, you will always be welcomed by me, and I suspect the Prince as well.”

Rena gave a soft smile. “I thank you once more. Many events have occurred lately that have forced me to think of these things more seriously. But let us talk no more of this. I am sure you have other things to attend to.”

Agni smiled back. “It is no trouble. I appreciate your confidence in me. Breakfast will be ready in an hour or two.” He bowed and left, leaving Rena alone with her diary, journal, and lessons to prepare.

Now, as Ciel’s childlike shouts of disapproval and annoyance mixed with the three servant’s shock. Rena’s chuckles intensified into a true laugh as she leaned back and imagined the frustration Sebastian was feeling at this moment. After their chat a couple weeks before, her opinion and treatment of the knight (and in return, his treatment of her) had returned to something much closer to what they had originally had upon her arrival. She treated him as live coals once more, and he treated her as a distantly possible threat to the household — one that wasn’t worth mentioning to Ciel at the moment, but something to keep an eye on.

As a result, Rena was attempting to fade back into the woodwork, having toed the line between subtle and stupid for far too long. It was time to lean back and see where the board lay, before planning her next moves for survival. Agni had been a risk, but it appeared to have been a worthwhile one. However, only time could tell whether it ended in success or failure.

Still shaking with laughter, Rena bent back over her journal. Skimming through it, she refreshed her memory on the next few days before turning to her diary. Tickling her chin with the end of the quill, she thought about what to write for her morning entry. Glancing at the small calendar on her wall, she thought about what would be happening back home.

Rena sighed and let her head drop back against the top of her chair as she allowed thoughts to drift around in her head like clouds. How long had it been since she’d spoken to her parents? Alexander had disappeared when she was eighteen — even though she’d told Sebastian she had been fifteen — and she was now twenty-four. Her birthday, which had been just over two months ago, had gone relatively uncelebrated. The Undertaker had given her a set of pink hair-ribbons when she’d visited him the next week, though Rena couldn’t quite remember when she’d told him when her birthday had been. She’d probably let it slip at some point, another small, harmless fact to cement her life here. Ah, birthdays, right, Rena thought as she pulled her head back up and dipped her quill in her ink.

Dear Alexander,

It’s Mom’s birthday soon. I saw a set of wine glasses in a shop the other day that I thought she might like, but I didn’t have enough money to buy them. I saw a pocket-watch Dad would have liked in another shop. And for you, I saw a full set of the ninth-edition Encyclopedia Britannica. I wished I could buy everything for you all, then perhaps I could pretend I was coming home soon. Not that Mom or Dad are particularly interested in seeing me, but maybe you’d be home too. I know that you’re often away for longer than you anticipate, but six years is a little excessive, dear brother. Please, finish up whatever business you have and return safely. You were always Mom’s favorite, and she misses you dearly. Dad too, though he doesn’t show it as much.

As for me, today will be another full day with lessons and business meetings to assist with. I dare say I will go insane one of these days, being shoved here and there and set in a corner to look pretty, despite the fact that none of this falls under the umbrella of a governess!

As ever, your loving sister,

Rena.

As Rena signed her name, a knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts. Rena hurriedly put her quill down, shutting her diary at the same time and slipping her journal under it, pulling both onto her lap with her hands wrapped around them. A split second later, the door opened, and Sebastian poked his head into the room.

“I am here to inform you that breakfast is ready, Miss Remington. In addition, other than Greek, I will be instructing the young master today, if that is acceptable to you.”

Rena nodded. “Thank you, Sebastian. I will be down shortly.” Despite her instincts telling her to grip her journal and diary tighter, she forced herself to remain relaxed, casual. Sebastian, thankfully, appeared slightly distracted by a fresh batch of crashes from downstairs, and simply bowed quickly before hurrying off to make sure chaos didn’t erupt any further than it already had. Rena hid her diary and journal, making sure they were out of the reach and sight of any curious servants, Earls, Princes, or butlers. Slipping out of her room and making sure the door was shut, she started making her way towards the dining room.

Upon arrival, she saw Soma and Lau already seated. Ciel was missing from his place at the head of the table, and there was an empty chair between Soma and Lau. Rena seated herself, and Agni stepped forwards to assist her. She nodded her thanks, and Agni returned to his master’s side. Soma regarded Rena with an air of curiosity.

“I am told by Agni you are the governess of this household.” Soma stated.

Rena looked at him. He was young, certainly, and Rena knew he acted far younger, but she also knew that he had a kind, caring spirit, even if it was currently buried under layers of privilege and spoiling by those around him. Taking a careful look into his eyes — as she had no wish to appear rude at this stage — she saw curiosity, certainly, but also a certain measure of suspicion, something that surprised Rena. Actually, I should have expected that, since he saw me yesterday and I asked Agni to tell him not to say anything, she thought. However, she also saw a faith to his promise not to speak on the matter.

“I am.” She responded neutrally. “I teach the Earl in exchange for room and board, with a small monthly salary. It has proven far more convenient for him than multiple tutors who must commute from their own homes to his.”

Soma nodded. “Perhaps while I am here, you will show me some of the things you teach.”

Rena recognized Soma’s request for what it was — a statement, not a question, and she responded in kind. “If it does not interfere with the Earl’s studies, then I would be honored.”

Soma turned away from Rena then, and she knew the conversation was at a close. Ciel entered the room then, Sebastian at his heels.

Breakfast passed relatively uneventfully, and Rena excused herself to collect her lesson materials for the day. Somehow, she suspected most of the lessons would go undone with Soma’s presence, but that did not particularly bother her. She returned to Agni telling the story of Kali and Shiva.

“…That is why she holds the severed head of the devil.” Agni drew a breath, and Rena spoke up quietly.

“A fine story. In the end, one can hardly blame her for her actions, when she was created from war.”

Agni turned to look at her. “You are familiar with our faith?”

Rena smiled slightly. “I read many books as a child, and my father and brother traveled much. My brother told me stories that came from all the places they went.”

Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. “I should be careful if I go to India.” He mused, which earned him a curious look from Agni, but no comment. Soma stood up then. “Well, we’re done praying…” With a speed that surprised Rena (considering that he was human), Soma grabbed Ciel. Rena forced back a smile at Ciel’s shocked expression, replacing it with concern, or what she hoped looked like concern.

“I must protest —-” Rena began, only to be cut off by Ciel’s annoyed shouts and Sebastian’s calm interference.

“Forgive me, but the young master has a full schedule with his studies and work today.”

Soma dropped Ciel, who quickly moved back to Sebastian’s side, causing Rena’s lips to twitch in spite of herself. Soma looked mildly disappointed as Ciel attempted to dismiss him, and Rena moved to a desk at the far end of the room, intent on reworking her lesson schedule for the week. However, as the minutes and hours ticked past, she found herself increasingly amused and distracted by Soma’s antics in an attempt to gain Ciel’s attention. At noon, lunch was served, and Rena forced Ciel to listen to her read out loud in Greek as he ate and to translate what she had said every few sentences. Soma was too busy eating to interrupt, except to occasionally ask a question about the story, as they were in the second book of the Iliad.

At one, Greek and lunch concluded, and Rena went to the kitchen to eat her own meal in peace. Stepping in, she noticed that only Tanaka was present, sipping away at his tea. She smiled at him and was greeted with a soft “ho, ho, ho.” Rena turned her back on him and retrieved her plate from the oven, only to hear the deep voice behind her.

“How are you this afternoon, Miss Remington?”

Rena jumped slightly and turned around, nearly dropping her food. “Good grief, Mister Tanaka. You scared me.”

He chuckled. “That was not intended, I assure you. Come, sit, drink some tea with your meal. I thought you might want some company.”

Rena smiled. “Thanks.” She sat and poured herself a cup of tea. “Mister Tanaka…” She trailed off, hesitating.

“Yes, Miss Remington?” Tanaka inquired.

“Do you trust Agni? From what you’ve seen of him so far?”

Tanaka thought for a moment, before nodding. “He is, I believe, trustworthy. Why?”

“I told him about who I am.” Rena mumbled.

Tanaka regarded her with an air that Rena couldn’t quite read. “Indeed. Are you beginning to feel homesick, perhaps?”

Rena nodded and stared down at her food. “My birthday was two months ago, and my mom’s birthday is next week. I wasn’t exactly on good terms with my family, but…”

Tanaka nodded slowly. “So your mother has not truly passed on, then?”

Rena nodded. “Dad’s not gone either, but it’s easier to pretend to be an orphan with indifferent sisters. Explains why I never get any letters or send any myself.”

“A wise observation and decision, on both counts.”

“Huh?” Rena looked up again.

“Our visitors have not had time to fall under the corruption that is spread by this household. The butler is an excellent choice for a confidante. You have learned quickly who to trust, Miss Remington.”

Rena sighed. “Well, it doesn’t hurt when you can look at someone and tell what they’re planning, which is why I —” She was cut off by a soft poof and the sight of small Tanaka. Rena smiled. “It can wait until you’ve regained your strength. Thank you for the confirmation on my choice, Mister Tanaka.” The soft “ho, ho, ho” that she received in return gave Rena a feeling of safety.

At least she had a few allies, both within and without.

A crash and the sound of fencing brought Rena back into the moment, and she looked at Tanaka, a long-suffering expression on her face.

“It just never stops in this place, does it?”

Notes:

Common Sense Tip of the Day, Taken for Once:

Pick your allies wisely. That is all.

This story is officially caught up to where it is on quotev, so hopefully I can keep them updated simultaneously from now on. Sorry if Agni and Soma seemed OOC, I’m not 100% comfy with how to write their characters, to be honest.

Chapter 16: Silent Move

Notes:

silent move — chess term: A move that has a dynamic tactical effect on a position, but that does not capture or attack an enemy piece.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rushing upstairs, Rena slowed so that she’d enter the room in a controlled manner. Surveying the situation, Rena saw Agni and Sebastian fighting in the center of the room. Smiling slightly, she watched the last few blows between the two, ending in the shattering of both rapiers.

Sebastian sighed. “Oh dear. The blade is broken.”

Agni nodded. “We cannot continue, then. This match is a draw.”

Despite this friendly exchange, the group stood around in shock, only for Rena to break the silence.

“I see that your butler is an equal to ours, Prince Soma. I am quite impressed.”

Soma grinned proudly. “Agni’s the best fighter in my palace.” He turned to Sebastian. “You are the first to fight equally against him. Ciel’s khansama, I shall excuse you today in deference to your skills.”

Sebastian bowed. “I am most honoured.”

As Agni and Sebastian exchanged post-match pleasantries, Rena stepped up next to Ciel. “Try to hide your surprise, Earl. It is unbecoming.” She smiled.

“But… but he held his own…. against Sebastian.” Ciel stuttered.

Rena nodded, but further conversation was interrupted by Agni’s approach. “Lord Ciel. I apologize for my earlier actions. Does your arm still hurt?”

“N…no…”

“I am glad!”

Rena hid another smile as she slipped away towards the gardens. A short walk would do her good, and she was unlikely to be needed for the next hour or so.

As she passed the kitchen window, a commotion drew her back inside and downstairs. Bard was sitting in the corner, fuming. Agni was holding a stack of recipes, and Sebastian brushed past her, clearly annoyed with everyone and everything, as he barely spared her a glance on his way. Rena slipped inside and sat at the counter in her usual spot for when Bard was “cooking”, or previously, Sebastian. Agni looked at her, and Rena smiled wryly. “He’s always like that when he’s behind.” She told him quietly.

Agni nodded thoughtfully, then looked at Bard, still in the corner. A lightbulb seemed to go off in his head. “Mister chef!” He had to repeat himself a couple of times before Bard grumbled in acknowledgement.

It took a second for the full force of what Agni was saying to hit him. He sat straight up, eyes wide open. “Chef!? You talkin’ to me?”

“Yes! I am not accustomed to cooking British food. Will you please help me?”

“Yeah!” Bard cheered, and Agni handed him a bowl of already-peeled onions.

“Will you chop these, then?”

“Piece of cake! ‘Cos I’m the chef!” Bard immediately started in on the onions, good humor restored.

Agni smiled at him and turned to Rena. “Will you help as well, Miss Rena?”

Rena chuckled. “If you need something taste-tested, sure. I am not a great chef, by any means.”

“I find that hard to believe. You told me that you lived on your own.” Agni replied quietly.

Rena smiled wryly. “I must admit, I used a good deal of pre-made food. One of the benefits of my time.” She replied equally quietly. “The only thing I ever successfully made from scratch were fried eggs and pancakes.”

“Perhaps you will have to learn. Can Mister Sebastian teach you?”

“He’s not interested in teaching a mere governess.”

Agni looked at her curiously. “I am surprised. Perhaps I will have to teach you some Indian recipes while we are here, then.”

Rena smiled at him. “Don’t be surprised if I mess something up and end up poisoning everybody.” She joked.

Agni chuckled. “I doubt that would happen.”

Finny came in at that moment, and Agni stepped away to recruit him for potato-mashing. Mey-Rin came in a moment later, inquiring where Sebastian was, and went to go set the table upon learning that he wasn’t present. Rena sat and watched everyone work, when a small scream from Mey-Rin broke the chatter around the counter. Agni rushed to her rescue, and the dishes were saved for once.

Overall, the evening was proceeding quite smoothly, and it was calming to Rena to see this little spot of joy and light in the middle of a dark place. It reminded her of when Alexander would make breakfast for the two of them, except on a grander scale.

Sebastian stepped back into the room, and instead of an immediate atmosphere of doom, everyone greeted him cheerfully. He stopped in shock, and Agni paused in his cooking. “Mister Sebastian?”

“I… am just amazed that you were able to get them to help you.” Sebastian appeared at a loss for words, a development which brought Rena a certain deep satisfaction.

“They work hard. They are good people.” Agni responded calmly.

“Well, they are not evil, per se…” Sebastian muttered. Rena smirked on the inside. Yeah, unlike you.

Agni smiled. “Everyone is born with a gift.” He glanced up, catching Rena’s eye briefly before turning to Sebastian. “Each of us has a path and a god-given duty. We must simply follow the path we are set upon, and do what we have been set here to do without haste.”

Sebastian still appeared shocked, but seemed to be regaining his composure. “How do I put this? Mister Agni is…” He trailed off.

#black butler fanfiction

0 notes

helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Safe

Pairing: SBI family x reader (platonic, one shot), BASED OFF FROM CHARACTERS NOT ACTUAL PEOPLE

Warnings: child abuse/neglect, bullying, alcoholism, death of a parent, mentions of panic attacks, injury, mentions of a dog’s death, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of suicide attempts, depression

Word count: 7,730

(A/N): if you’re not feeling safe at home or are being abused, please contact the proper authorities. Here’s the abuse hotline: 1-800-799-7233, my DMs are always open if you want to talk

You met Tommy and Tubbo when you were in third grade. You were a relatively quiet kid, the type to always keep to themselves and abstain from social activity. Mrs. Jansen, being the nice woman that she was, let the entire class choose their own seats.

“Welcome to your first day of third grade, class! I’m Mrs. Jansen and I look forward to getting to know all of you. As you can see, there are enough desks for all of you. You may sit with who you want.”

You shifted around uneasily and gripped your book in your hands as your classmates hurried to get the back seats. After every seat was taken, you walked to the only seat left in the front. You were between a girl and a boy. They introduced themselves as Dorothy and Samuel, and were relatively kind to you.

As the class passed their second week, two boys that sat in the back row made themselves apparent very quickly. They were both rambunctious, always disrupting the class with their giggles and whispers. Mrs. Jansen had warned them multiple times that she was going to separate them, but it seemed that they didn’t think she’d do it. One day, she finally had enough.

“Tommy, Tubbo. I’ve given you plenty of warnings, I’m going to have to separate you. Dorothy, Samuel, can you please switch places with them?”

You could feel dread wash over you. Why was she putting you between them?! What did you do wrong to deserve this? You could swear that you’ve done all your chores, you even made your mom smile at you! She never did that.

They pouted as they sat next to you, Tommy on your right and Tubbo on your left. You already missed Samuel and Dorothy. “Thank you. (Y/n), make sure they behave.”

You shrunk down into your seat as you felt Tommy’s glare burning holes into the side of your head. Tubbo, on the other hand, was watching the lesson with bored eyes and his chin propped up in his hand. You tried to take notes, but you kept getting distracted by Tommy’s heated glare. You were going to fall behind, you couldn’t have that. Mama wouldn’t like that.

After the final bell rang, you hurried out of the classroom to avoid Tommy’s wrath. You could hear him shouting for you to stop, but you never stopped until your hand was grabbed and yanked backwards in the empty playground. You fell back onto the pavement of the basketball court and whimpered at the sting in your palms.

Tommy glared down at you, “you gonna cry? Serves you right. Never tell on Tubbo and I. Got it?”

You tearfully nodded and he grinned maliciously at you, “good. Tubbo, let’s go. Wil and Tech’s probably waiting for us.”

The brunet was staring at Tommy with a shocked expression, unmoving. Tommy rolled his eyes and huffed before he grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the crowd of families. Tubbo looked back at you with an apologetic expression and watched as you looked at your scratched up palms.

You wiped at your tears as you stood up and started to walk home. Your neighbor’s dog behind the wired fence barked at you as you hurried past it. You never liked that dog; it was a drooling, angry, ugly furball. It scared you, but not as much as Mama did when she drank her adult juice. She was scary when she drank it. You tried hiding it from her once but she grounded you from eating dinner and snacks for half a month. You didn’t try to hide it again.

You trudged up the creaky wooden stairs of your porch and tried to open the door only to find it locked. You tried to knock on the door but Mama didn’t answer so you just sat on the front porch waiting for her to open the door. She did so when the sun was setting, surprise and then anger shining through her hazy eyes. She yelled at you before she sent you to your room for the night without dinner.

The next day when you were sitting alone at a lunch table, someone plopped down in the seat next to you. You jumped and scooted away from them, looking up only to see Tubbo. He was smiling at you.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about Tommy, he gets mad easily.”

You eyed him warily and clutched your open book, “...it’s okay.”

He grinned and scooted closer to you, peering over your shoulder at the book. “What’re you reading?”

“‘Harry Potter’.”

“Oh I love that book! My favorite character’s Ron, who’s yours?”

Surprisingly, the conversation was pleasant before he was dragged away by a glaring Tommy. You might actually make a friend after all. Later that day after school, Tommy once again stopped you in the school yard. This time, he shoved you to the ground and started to shout at you.

“You do not talk to him, freak! You’re gonna mess him up, he talks to me and me only. Do you unde-undastunend?”

You gulped and shakily spoke up, “yes, and it’s ‘understand’, not ‘undastunend’.”

His glare intensified before he reared back a fist. You yelped as you curled into a ball with your hands protecting your head. Before he could hit you, you heard the stomping of shoes against the concrete.

“TOMMY STOP.”

You could feel a hand on your back and a gentle voice asking if you were alright. You hesitated before you looked up to see an older boy with a mop of curly brown hair on his head and wire glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He reminded you of Harry Potter. Looking past him, you saw a tall pink haired boy glaring and lecturing Tommy, holding the struggling boy in place with a firm grip on his elbow. Tubbo was just behind him looking down and shifting on the balls of his feet.

“I am so sorry about Tommy, are you alright? He didn’t hit you did he?”

You shook your head and the boy heaved a sigh of relief, “that’s good. I’m Wilbur and that’s Technoblade, we’re Tommy and Tubbo’s brothers. What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).”

He smiled at you, “that’s a lovely name.”

“Wilbur, let’s go. This one,” Technoblade shook Tommy’s arm, “needs to talk to Dad.”

You watched as Tommy’s movements stopped and he looked up with wide eyes. “No, please don’t tell Dad. Please-”

Wilbur stood and helped you up before grabbing Tubbo’s hand and lead him away, “you aren’t weaseling your way out of this.”

You watched the brothers leave, feeling guilt wash over you. You didn’t want to get him in trouble, punishments were the absolute worst. Even though he shoved you and almost punched you, he didn’t deserve any punishment. With guilt weighing down on your shoulders, you walked home. At least Mama was in a good mood, she made you some mac n cheese for dinner.

The next day, Tommy trudged up to your desk and put a tupperware dish on your desk before sitting down in his seat and ignored you. Tubbo sat in his seat next to you and smiled at you.

“Open it,” he jumped in his seat slightly as he watched your expression change to shock. In the container laid five chocolate chip cookies. You had only had cookies once in your life and that was during a class birthday celebration a year ago. “They’re our Dad’s secret recipe, I helped make them! Um, Tommy wanted to apologize to you.”

You glanced at Tommy. He was glancing at you over his shoulder and blushed a bright red when he saw you looking at him. Tubbo cleared his throat and gestured at Tommy. The blond crossed his arms and looked off to the side. “Sorry,” he mumbled halfheartedly.

After that, they started to sit next to you during lunch. Tommy was a bit cold towards you, but you found yourself beginning to relax around Tubbo’s friendly aura. Soon enough, you started to supply him with more than a few words per sentence. Tommy eventually got bored of eating in silence and would join your conversation. You three became thick as thieves that year, you even met their Dad. He was very different from Mama; he never yelled at you, he was always giving you snacks, and he even smiled at you often.

That house became like a second home to you. Eventually, you ended up spending more time at the Minecraft residence than you spent at home with your mom. Over the years, she got worse with her drinking. She was always passed out on the couch and when she wasn’t, she was swaying on her feet in the kitchen staring at a portrait with dazed, wistful eyes. You can remember when you first realized that she had a problem and always being unhappy and drunk was, in fact, not normal for a parent.

It was a warm spring day in seventh grade. Luckily, you had your health class with Tommy and Tubbo. You were currently learning about alcohol dependency and the effects it had on the body. The teacher listed all the symptoms your mom had; the uncontrollable urge to drink, the aggression, the shakiness and dizziness, everything. When you came to the realization that your mother might have a problem, the teacher started to explain the disorders and diseases that could come from heavy drinking, most of them having the potential to be fatal if the drinking persisted. You felt like you were drenched in icy water as your body seized up in fear for your mother. You stared unseeingly at your notebook at the symptoms of alcoholism and associated disorders. You didn’t want your mom to die. You had to do something before it was too late for her.

“(Y/n)?” You jumped and looked at the person who called your name. Tommy and Tubbo were giving you worried stares. “Are you okay?”

You shakily started to put your supplies away into your backpack. The class had been dismissed and you didn’t even realize it. “Y-yeah. It’s just- I’m worried.”

“Yeah, I’m worried too,” Tommy laughed as you followed the two out of the classroom and to the courtyard. “That essay’s gonna be awful.”

“Oh god we have an essay?”

“Yeah, Mr. Smithers assigned it to us before the bell rang, are you sure you’re okay? You’re usually on top of this stuff.” Tubbo threw a worried glance towards you.

“Yeah, just a bit distracted today. I uh, have to go home. Like right now, my mom wants me home right after school today.”

You sprinted off towards your house. When you reached your neighborhood and ran past the wired fence. The bulldog that lived there was now old and gray. You found out that his name was Buster and he was actually a total sweetheart if you slept next to him on the other side of the fence on more than one occasion. Buster watched from inside his doghouse as you sprinted into the house. Luckily for you, the door was unlocked and your mother was passed out on the couch surrounded by glass bottles. You locked the door behind you as you rushed over to her intensely watching for any sign of movement. She looked dead, her skin was pale, her hair matted, and her mouth gaping open showing off her yellow stained teeth. She wasn’t moving, were you too late?

Just as you started to panic, she snorted and started to breathe. You slumped in relief as you stepped over the beer bottles into the kitchen. The table was sparkly clean with a pristine picture frame resting in the middle, a stark contrast of the beer bottles that littered the floor and the piles of dirty dishes in the sink. It was of a man standing stiffly in a military uniform saluting at the camera with a stern expression. He was an exact copy of you. Well, you were an exact copy of him; that man was your late father.

“Hey Dad, how was your day? Mine was awful, I learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis today and- and I’m worried about Mom. She’s been drinking a lot lately.”

You stared at your dad’s face behind the glass as if expecting a response. You wanted some reassurance from the man. You wanted him to tell you everything was going to be okay and that he’d handle it so you could be a normal kid. Like usual, his steely expression didn’t budge one bit.

You sighed to yourself sadly and trudged to the refrigerator opening the door. The beer bottles stared back at you tauntingly. Your fingers twitched on the fridge door as you contemplated the consequences of throwing away the offending glass bottles. You remembered in second grade when you hid your mother’s alcohol she punished you by withholding food from you. She’d probably do worse this time, but the consequences were worth it if you were going to save your mother’s life.

It took you ten minutes of tossing alcohol into the garbage can until the fridge was left barren of the drink. Without the green bottles, the fridge was completely empty with the exception of milk and a few probably rotten eggs. You struggled to take the trash out to the curb and started to work on homework in your room.

At seven at night, you could hear her roll off the couch and stumble into the kitchen. A series of frantic rustling and banging sounded downstairs before you could hear pounding footsteps storm up the stairs. Your door flung open to reveal your red-faced, livid mother.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“M-mom I hid them because we learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis and-” You cut yourself off when she walked over to you with her arms extended towards your trembling frame. You tried to scoot as far away from her as possible, but she grabbed your shoulders with clammy but firm hands, shaking you roughly.

“Are you saying I have a problem?! You spoiled fucking brat, you’re the problem! Everything was amazing before you came and fucked up my life. You took him away from me. YOU FUCKING KILLED MY HUSBAND.”

You could feel tears start to drip down your cheeks as you remembered that day in first grade when you begged your dad to get you some McDonalds for dinner. When he relented, you cheered and your mom laughed at your excitement. She was so full of life back then; her hair was shiny and bouncy, her skin was unmarked and flawless, her eyes were lively and bright. Her laughter was perhaps your favorite memory of her. Then everything went to shit when your dad never came home and your mom got a phone call saying that your dad was killed in a car wreck on impact. You could remember your mother’s heart wrenching sobs as she collapsed to the floor and pulled you tight against her body. As if she was trying to protect what was left of her husband.

You were snapped back to reality when your mom shoved you back onto your bed. The happy, beautiful woman that you saw was replaced by the shell of a broken woman. Her silky hair turned dull, her smile turned into a grotesque scowl, her loving eyes turned cold. She truly was a husk of her former self.

“Stop crying, you’re not the one who’s life was ruined. I want you out of my house in ten minutes. You’re gonna not step foot anywhere near here for two weeks. If I even see you on my property before those two weeks are up, you’re fucking dead.”

You frantically nodded and watched as she stumbled out of her room. You packed what you would need in your spare backpack and ran out of the house past your mother sobbing and babbling incoherently to your dad. You flinched when you could hear a bang and the sound of glass shattering when she threw a bottle at your retreating figure.

You ran until you couldn’t run anymore. Your legs brought you to the park where you spent most of your childhood. Everywhere you looked, you could see glimpses of your mom and dad pushing you on the swing, Tommy and Tubbo running from you playing tag, Mr. Minecraft putting a bandaid on your scraped knee. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you pushed yourself up and went to your safe place. It was a little nook deep in the vegetation where nobody could see you. You originally found this place when you were playing hide and seek with Tommy and Tubbo. They never knew where you hid.

Tears moistened the soil underneath you as you pulled out a blanket you had hid in a plastic grocery bag and spread it out on the floor. You curled up on it and cried freely into your hands. You didn’t sleep much that night.

That was the first time she had kicked you out for that long. You barely ate in those two weeks, wolfing down any food you could get your hands on at lunch. Lunch for you was the small scraps of food that Tommy and Tubbo shared with you. Mom never packed you lunches or gave you money to buy things anymore. To make matters worse, they had told their dad that they thought you had some form of eating disorder.

About a week into your exile, you finally visited the Minecraft residence after avoiding them for a week. You remembered how the blond man pulled you aside into the kitchen. He gently sat you down and pushed a plate full of chicken and vegetables in front of you. You looked at him confused as he gestured towards the plate.

“Eat that, I heard you haven’t been eating much lately.” When you made no move to eat, he smiled at you. “Go ahead, it’s okay if you don’t eat it all. Just eat some of it.”

That was all you needed to hear, you began to eat quickly like a starving wolf. It’s been a while since you had more than half an apple to eat, let alone an actual homemade meal. When you were done, you looked up to see the older man looking at you worriedly.

“...Are you not getting enough food at home?”

You scrambled to find a lie, “my- my mom is away a lot on business trips. We don’t really eat much.”

His worried expression grew tenfold as he moved to kneel in front of you and put his hands on your shoulders. “You need to eat three meals a day, especially now that you’re growing. You’re always welcome here when your mom’s away, our door’s always open. Is she away now?”

“Yeah, she won’t be home until next week.” You felt bad for lying to the man that put bandaids on your scraped knees and took you to the father daughter dance in fifth grade when he heard that your dad was dead. He was always so kind to you, which you never quite understood. Despite feeling bad for lying to him, you felt incredibly relieved that you didn’t have to be alone anymore.

From then on out whenever she kicked you out, you went to the Minecraft residence. They welcomed you with open arms and treated you like you were a part of the family. You and Techno bonded over your love for reading and mythology, Wilbur made sure you took care of yourself, and Philza (he told you to just call him Phil at that point) treated you like his own child. You didn’t think that it was possible for you, Tommy, and Tubbo to be any closer than you already were, but you three became inseparable. You told them everything one night when you couldn’t sleep. You told them how you felt like you were the cause of your mother’s decline and your dad’s death, how she would usually punish you, her ‘hobby’. They were about to tell Philza, but you begged them not to. After a while of pleading and assuring them that she’d never hit you, they hesitantly agreed and made you promise to call them whenever you felt unsafe in your home.

You kept to that promise, calling them whenever she would get too drunk to know what she was doing. They would calm you down from panic attacks late at night and invite you to their house in the daytime. They felt like your actual brothers and you started to refer to them as such. You three gave each other a shoulder to lean on and gave each other comfort when needed. One night when you were in your freshman year, however, your mother caught you sneaking out to see them after she sent you to your room. That was when she started to hit you.

Just as you were about to sneak out the front door, your mother started to scream at you incoherently. When you flinched away from when she got up in your face, she became even more enraged.

“WHERE WERE YOU GOING? I BET YOU’RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT, AREN’T YOU LITTLE SLUT?”

Without thinking, you yelled back at her, “I would never! Why-” You were cut off by a harsh slap to the cheek sending you to the ground. She quieted down and stared at you and her hand, a glint of shock shining through her dazed eyes. Without a word, she turned around and left to go talk to your dad. You sat there listening to her rant about how she failed as a mother, how she wanted to do better but she didn’t know how, how she wished that he was there with her. You scrambled up and ran to your room. You looked at yourself in the mirror, there was a bright red mark on your cheek in the shape of a hand. There was a small cut where her wedding ring connected with your cheek. A single drop of blood dripped down your cheek and curved down the dip of your chin before dripping onto your shirt. Without doing anything else, you plopped down onto your bed and sobbed into your pillow, crying yourself to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning, you realized that you slept through half of the school day so it was useless to go to school now. You reached up to run a hand down your face only to hiss and pull your hand away. You once again looked at yourself in the mirror.

You looked terrible. Your eyes were bloodshot and swollen like you were crying in your sleep. Hair was sticking up in all directions and matted slightly. The slap mark was gone, but the cut had bruising around the edges with dried blood crusted on your cheek and on your pillow. It was a small cut, but it bled a surprising amount overnight. You couldn’t see Tommy or Tubbo like this, they’d flip out. Luckily for you it was a Friday and you had the weekend to heal.

Your mother gradually started to hit you more and more. It started off as a once-a-week thing whenever she was really angry, but then it divulged into something that would happen daily over the smallest things. You became her punching bag for her to release some steam. Makeup became your best friend at that point; you used what little savings you saved over the years for dollar store makeup.

Soon after it became a struggle to hide the cuts and bruises from Tommy and Tubbo, so you gradually started to avoid them. Your face, once synonymous with the Minecraft residence and Tommy and Tubbo, became a rarity. They tried their hardest to contact you, but you always dodged their calls. After a few months of you dodging Tommy and Tubbo, you finally told them that you didn’t want to be friends with them anymore.

It broke your heart to say it, but it had to be done. They were getting too close to the truth and you couldn’t have that; the government would take you away from your mom and she’d end up dead. You were the only one keeping her alive at this point, she lost all motivation to eat. The only thing she did nowadays was hit you, drink, and hug your dad’s photo to her chest.

The beatings got to the point where you could barely walk without feeling pain. School became something that you’d rarely attend. Tommy and Tubbo stopped trying to talk to and call you. Buster, your previous confidant, had long since died so you were truly alone in the world. The neighbor’s yard looked barren without the dog house and the graying dog. The only person you had left was your mom.

When you had accidentally burnt dinner late at night, she completely snapped. She grabbed your arm and held it on top of the burner. Pain hit you immediately as you screamed and cried apologies to her. When you instinctively hit her with your other hand, she dug her nails into your arm and pushed your arm closer onto the burner. Nerve endings screamed at you to get away from the pain. The pain was becoming too much, so you looked on the countertop next to you for something to defend yourself with. A metal fork was lying close to your other hand.

You grabbed it and, with a distraught apology to your mother, drove the prongs deep into her arm. She screamed in pain and let your arm go. You ripped yourself out of her grasp and started to run for the front door. A force collided with the back of your shoulder making pain explode in the area. You didn’t know what happened at first, but after hearing the shattering of glass, you realized that she threw a beer bottle at you. You could feel the sting of alcohol and glass mingling with your open wounds on your shoulder. The sting was almost as bad as your arm, but you didn’t stop running especially when you glanced behind you to see her running at you with a knife raised and the fork protruding from her arm.

You flung open the door and sprinted out without bothering to close the door behind you. As your bare feet hit the sidewalk, you could hear your mother stop at the end of the stairs and shout at you to come back. You never stopped.

You didn’t stop until your feet took you to the Minecraft residence’s front door. Nobody was on the street as it was about eleven at night. You hesitated to knock on their door, you ignored the family for the past six months, and you weren’t sure if they even wanted you there. After five minutes of thinking, you just sighed as you walked back down the wooden stairs and walked back towards the sidewalk.

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?” You froze up at Tommy’s sleep riddled voice. You stayed frozen as you heard him stomp over to you. He placed a firm hand on your injured shoulder and forced you to turn around. His angry expression faded into a concerned one when he heard you start to sob and flinch away from him.

“Wha- shit are you bleeding?” You nodded slightly and he gently turned you back around to see a patch of darkened cloth on your shirt. You could feel him shaking as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the house. He plopped you at the dining room table and told you to wait there. With that, he sprinted up the stairs and brought back a serious Philza holding a first aid kit.

When he saw you bruised and battered, you could hear him take in a sharp intake of breath and saw unbridled anger flash across his face. You flinched away from him when he approached you.

“Hey,” he said in a gentle voice, “I won’t hurt you. Can you show me where you’re hurt?”

You eyed him warily like a scared wild animal and reluctantly moved your burned arm away from your chest and showed it to him. This was the first time you saw your forearm; it was an ugly red that expanded up the majority of the underside of your forearm with skin burned off at the edges. Yellow, fluid-filled blisters were starting to form.

You could hear Tommy’s horrified gasp as he turned to run out of the room. You kept your gaze downwards as Philza warned you that he was about to put disinfectant on your wound. He apologized to you when you whimpered in pain at the sting of the alcohol on your exposed nerves. After he was finished wrapping your arm, he asked you to show him where else you’re injured. You turned around so he could see the growing patch of blood staining your now ripped shirt. You could feel him gently move your shirt to the side and heard him wince.

“Shit, there’s glass in here. I’m going to have to get some tweezers to get it out. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” You were then alone in the kitchen for a moment before he came back with a worried Wilbur and Techno in tow. The brunet pulled up a chair next to you and asked if it was alright to hold your hand. After you hesitantly nodded, he grabbed your hand and started to run his thumb over your knuckles. Techno held a light close to your shoulder as Philza started to tweeze out the green tinted glass from your shoulder.

Every time you would suck in air through your teeth and muffle your yelps with your other hand, Wilbur would whisper reassurances to you and hold your hand tighter. After the glass was out, the wound was disinfected, and wrapped in gauze, Philza told the boys to leave the room. He grabbed both of your hands and gave you the best reassuring smile that he could.

“Tell me what happened.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt tears well up in your eyes, “I tried Phil, I really did. She never got better no matter what I did.”

“What do you mean, are you talking about your mom?” You could hear the angry undertone of his voice. You tensed up and nodded.

“She… she needs help. She was never the same after Dad died, she started drinking. It started off with only one beer a day, but after seventh grade she was going through an entire case in a day. She’d punish me if I said or did anything about it. No dinner for a week was a popular one until she started to ban me from the house for weeks on end. She never went on business trips, Phil. She got a knife today. I-I thought she was actually gonna kill me this time, I was so scared.”

Without another word, he pulled you into a tight hug, letting you sob freely into his shoulder. “It was my fault, I couldn’t help her! She- she needed me and I couldn’t help her.” You said between sobs. He hugged you tighter and started to rub your back, making sure to avoid your shoulder. “None of this is your fault, you can’t help someone if they don’t want help. Sometimes you can’t fix someone who’s too far gone.”

“Am I too far gone?”

“No, you aren’t. We’ll help you through this, we won’t let anybody hurt you ever again. You’re gonna go on to live a good life.” You passed out in his arms after a while of crying.

When you woke up, you were in Tommy and Tubbo’s room. The two boys jumped to your side and pulled you into a tight group hug. After you tried to apologize to them for how you treated them in the past six months, they shushed you and just sat there in silence hugging you.

Later that day you found out that your mother was found by your neighbor on the front porch with her wrists slit and empty beer bottles surrounding her. She was breathing, but just barely. Currently she was in an unstable condition in the hospital. You had a full breakdown when you found out that she almost killed herself because of you. You had run out of the house and to your safe place in the park. You hadn’t been there in a few years, so you hoped that it was still there.

Sure enough, it was still there albeit a bit overgrown. The blanket in the plastic bag was in the same place where you left it. You had no idea how long you were sitting there crying and having a panic attack, but when you came to your senses it was dark outside. You could hear crickets chirping and the rustling of leaves in the entrance of your hideout.

A brunet head poked itself in and smiled when he saw you. Tubbo fully came into the nook and gestured for someone to follow. Tommy’s blond hair made itself apparent before he joined you two inside.

“Nice little place you have here. It’s… homey.” Tubbo rubbed his hands together and blew warm air on them. You threw one side of the blanket at him and pulled your knees up to your chest. “Thanks, I used to sleep here sometimes… How’d you find me?”

“We could hear you,” Tommy pulled out his phone and typed something on it before pocketing it and sitting next to you. He covered himself with the blanket as Tubbo followed suit. You sat in silence before Tommy broke it.

“How long has she been hittin you?”

“Tommy!” Tubbo scolded him.

“She started about six months ago.”

“Six months ago… that was when you cancelled plans! I knew something was wrong Tubbo.”

Tubbo said nothing as he looked at you with a helpless expression. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. Everything’s my fault. I’m the reason my mom’s in the hospital right now fighting for her life. I wasn’t there for her.” You would’ve started crying if it weren’t for the fact that you just felt so drained and numb.

“The fuck do you mean? She was about to kill you! You told us that she was about to stab you, what else were you supposed to do, just let her kill you?!” Tommy exclaimed.

You shrugged, “maybe. If she did she’d be happy, I was just a burden to her. I- I just wanted her to be happy and I would never be able to do that as long as I’m alive. If she killed me she wouldn’t be in the hospital right now.”

“What the fuck (y/n),” Tubbo shouted, startling you. He never shouts, let alone swears. “How could you even say that? I don’t know what I’d do without you, everything would be so boring and nothing would be the same without you. Fuck her happiness, she’s a wretched woman if the only way she can be happy is when you’re dead. Fuck her.”

You and Tommy stared at the seething boy in shock. He never shouted when he was angry, he only did that once when he found out that Tommy was being bullied. Whenever he sweared, that’s when you knew his emotions were hitting him at full force. Tommy quickly recovered from his shock to join him, “yeah fuck her, man! She can go suck a dick.” He was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

“Dad’s here, c’mon he’s worried sick about you.” After they helped you out of your safe place, they both wrapped an arm around your shoulders and walked you to the parking lot. You could see the headlights of the lone car in the lot turn off before the door swung open and a figure rushed towards you. You pushed yourself behind Tommy and Tubbo and hid behind them fearfully. They both turned around and put a hand on your shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s our dad.”

You peeked over their shoulders and saw a mop of disheveled, long blond hair. Philza looked like he was just told that there was an antidote for a fatal poison he just ingested, despite the flash of hurt that showed on his face. His blue eyes were accentuated by the redness of his sclera and you can see the relief painted in them. A gentle smile was on his face as he moved his arms up. Without another word, you launched yourself at him and pulled him into the tightest hug you could manage with your shoulder.

“Are your accusations true, Mx. (L/n)?”

Your gaze flickered over to your mother sitting on the other side of the courtroom. She looked at you with no expression on her face. Her wrists were wrapped tightly in a white bandage that was a stark contrast to the bright orange prison uniform and the silver of the handcuffs. She wasn’t the woman you knew when your dad was alive. The life was sucked out of her the second she picked up that phone call.

You looked back at the lawyer, “yes sir.”

“I have no further questions, your honor.”

“You may return to your seat, Mx. (L/N).”

You stood up and walked as confidently as you could past the dull eyes of your mother and back to your seat between Tommy and Tubbo. You held their hands tightly as the trial moved onwards. Buster’s owner even stepped up to the witness stand to give his testimony. Apparently he knew about the abuse from your late night conversations with Buster. He had contacted CPS and the police multiple times but the case was always dropped for some reason that you couldn’t bring yourself to ponder. A few of your previous teachers even showed up to give their testimonies. Their words, though true and slightly sweet, rubbed you the wrong way. If they ‘knew something was happening at home with you’, then why didn’t they do anything when it was happening? You tried to focus on the rest of the trial.

Your mother’s only witness was herself, and she did a piss poor job at it. She was basically digging her own grave with every word that came out of her mouth. The entire time, she was staring at you with her infamous dull eyes.

“Do you have any further points you would like to add, Mrs. (L/n)?”

“Yes, I have always loved my child. They were my husband’s pride and joy, the splitting image of him. Their rightful place is safe with their real parent at our home.”

You could feel Tommy attempt to stand up, but you pulled him back down; now was not the time for him to start yelling in anger. Tubbo squeezed your hand in reassurance and glanced at you. You were staring at the woman you called your mother with pain and hate filled eyes. You wished her words were sincere, but you knew fully well that they weren’t. The words that left her mouth would’ve been one hundred percent true and genuine when your dad was still alive, but he’s buried six feet under in a military cemetary now and he has been for years. You would’ve given anything, even your own life, for those words to be true a month ago, but you knew better now. Mothers don’t treat their kids like this, they’re supposed to give their children their unconditional love and take care of them. As far as you were concerned, she was no longer your mother. She forfeited that title the second she turned to the bottle. Philza is and will always be more of a parental figure than she’ll ever be.

After the jury left to discuss, the court was in a recess. You slipped out of the room and speed walked to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You could see heavy eye bags under your dull eyes. The dullness of your eyes, to your horror, reminded you of your mother, so you splashed your face with water. That fixed it, your eyes were slightly brighter. You could still see the faint outline of the scar on your cheek from when she first hit you. Small scars littered your face from the more recent wounds she gave you before you ran.

A knock sounded at the door, “(y/n), the recess is almost over.” It was Techno.

You patted your face dry and went to leave the bathroom. The pink haired boy that you now saw as your older brother was waiting patiently for you on the other side. He put a gentle hand on your shoulder and led you back to the courtroom. There, the rest of the Minec- no, your family was waiting for you. Just as you reached them, the judge announced that the jurors would be arriving back. The entire courtroom stood as they walked in.

“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked.

“We have.”

“Mrs. (L/n) and Mr. Langsburg, would you stand and face the jury? You may read the verdict.”

“We the jury of the state court find the defendant guilty under the charges of child abuse and child neglect.”

Tommy clapped a hand on your shoulder as Tubbo squeezed your hand. They both smiled widely at you. You, however, didn’t acknowledge them. You were only staring at the empty eyes of your mother as she was looking at the jury. Her reaction was akin to her breaking a pencil, like it didn’t matter to her. Like all the years abuse that she put you through didn’t matter was as trivial as breaking a pencil.

“So say you all?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“I hereby sentence Mrs. (L/n) to twelve years in the state penitentiary with no opportunity of parole. Mr. Philza Minecraft shall be bestowed the custody of Mx. (Y/n) (l/n) as they do not have any next of kin. Court is adjourned.” With that, she banged the gavel and the courtroom exploded in the bustling of people. You never took your eyes off from your mo- no, the monster with the dull eyes as she picked at something in her nails boredly. Just as she looked up to meet your gaze, Tommy pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly. You were passed around the family in the courtroom for their individual hugs. Philza’s was comforting, Tubbo’s was congratulatory, Wilbur’s was warm, and Techno’s was slightly awkward, yet soft.

At home, you spent most of your time in the spare room Philza had given you. He had offered to help you decorate it, but you had no idea where to start. You were never allowed to have decorations in your old room. You kept the room simplistic and your possessions light.

You often stared at your dad’s portrait on your nightstand wondering what your life could’ve been like if you never asked him for McDonalds that day. Your family probably would’ve been stationed in who knows where and moved around often, as is customary in most military families. You probably would’ve never met Tommy and Tubbo in third grade. You probably would’ve never met your now older brothers and new father. You didn’t want to imagine a life without them.

After a few days of you being locked up in your room, Tommy and Tubbo came into your room with mischievous grins. You knew them like the back of your hand, so you knew the second you saw their faces that they were about to do something. You sat up and looked at them suspiciously.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re not doing anything, (y/n). Right Tubbo?”

“Right Tommy.” Tubbo nodded curtly. They still had grins on their faces. They walked over to your bed before they picked you up and walked you out of the room. You didn’t have the energy to fight them, so you laid limp in their arms. They eventually took you down to the living room and plopped you down onto the couch between them. Techno tossed them a blanket when they then used to wrap you tightly into a blanket burrito. The home screen of Disney Plus was pulled up on the TV and the curtains were drawn. Philza and Wilbur exited the kitchen with glasses of water and two big bowls of popcorn.

They smiled widely when they saw you squashed between your brothers, putting a bowl of popcorn in your lap and three glasses of water nearby. The two next to you dug into the popcorn as the rest of the family made themselves comfortable on the couch.

“What are we doing?”

“Movie night! We’re gonna binge the Marvel movies, your favorite!” Tubbo grinned at you, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Just double checking, the order is Captain America, Captain Marvel, Iron Mans One and Two, Incredible Hulk, Avengers, Thor-”

You cut Wilbur off with a mumbled “first Thor, then the first Avengers movie.”

“Glad I asked then! The timeline would’ve been thrown off.”

As the movies progressed, you started to finally feel like you belonged as a part of the family. Laughter came easier to you, mingling effortlessly with the family’s laughter. Every time you laughed at a scene, they would give you a smile and laugh alongside you. Eventually after about halfway through Captain America: The Winter Soldier, everyone had fallen asleep on the couch. Soft snores and the quiet sounds of the occasional fight scene filled the room as your eyelids started to close involuntarily. You looked around the room at the rest of your family. They all looked peaceful in their slumber. Tommy and Tubbo’s protective hold of their arms around your shoulders made you feel safe. It was in that moment that you realized that they would never let anyone hurt you ever again. You were a part of an actual, loving family. With that, you let yourself fall asleep into a peaceful slumber surrounded by the people that loved you the most.

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Text

“Move the plans”

Pairing: Florence Pugh x actress!reader (platonic)

Summary: Florence tells you to cancel your plans when she ends up in New York.

Warnings: Nothing really bad. Mentions lactose intolerance? Idk if that’s sensitive to people. Probably some spelling errors.

A/n: Hello darlings! I’m back from my unannounced break. I decided to write a platonic Florence fic because she’s a sweetheart and I loved her as Yelena! Also for those who follow me, don’t worry, I will be working on a sequel to my Tom Holland “Sour” fic!! But for now, please enjoy this fic!😚💕

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(Loml)

✧───── ･｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

You stood backstage in front of a mirror, looking at your appearance and making sure there were no wrinkles on the dress you wore. Your hairstylist was behind you, fluffing your hair and managing the stray baby hairs on your head. You were currently at NBC Studios in New York City, about to do an interview with the infamous, Jimmy Fallon. Tingles buzzed through your skin as you heard the cheers and music from the stage. Jimmy’s voice can be heard faintly backstage, only adding to your growing excitement.

The sound of heels clicking approached you, it took less than a second for you to feel the warm presence of Florence behind you. The both of you were starring in the upcoming Black Widow movie alongside Scarlett Johansson; after months of working together and spending days hanging out, you and Florence had become very close friends. She was, without a doubt, your favorite person in the world. Since the moment you met her, she had always been the most sweetest and caring person you’ve ever met—and you were proud to say you had her in your corner.

You met Flo’s eyes in the mirror and bright smiles were instantly on your faces. Turning around, you open your arms wide, and wrap them around her. Bear hugs were a must in your friendship with Flo, you both just loved receiving hugs from each other.

“Ahhh! I told you that dress would be perfect for tonight, you look stunning!” She squealed, tightening her arms around you. A day before Jimmy Fallon, you and Flo had been at your place with your stylist, picking out which dress you should wear for the interview. The dress was casual, but the color was so ever vibrant that it made the dress pop.

You pulled out the hug and looked at what she was wearing. Her gorgeous blonde hair was curled into loose locks and her dress was just as vibrant as yours. The pink of her dress and the orange (yellowish?) of yours complimented each other. Which coincidentally enough, was a parallel of your lovely friendship with Florence.

“Me? Flo, you look gorgeous! I’m so obsessed with this look!” You help her twirl, hyping her up as she showed off her outfit. After sneaking in a little mirror selfie and posting it onto Instagram, the two of you were given a five minute warning from one of the crew members. You and Flo were moved to stand behind the curtain, waiting for your cues to walk onto the stage.

While the two of you were getting mic’d up, Florence leaned closer to you.

“Can I be completely honest with you?” She mumbled, her stare remaining on the curtain before her. Your brow raises in curiosity as your head slightly turns to look at her.

“Of course, hun. What’s up?” You ask, your attention on her. She sighs and leans even closer so only you can hear her.

“I feel like I’m about to shit my pants.” She admits, swallowing nervously. Your mouth gapes, “Did you have iced coffee too?”

Flo’s face scrunches up in confusion, “N-no! That was me telling you I was nervous! Did you have iced coffee?” She fully turns to look at you and judging by the look of guilt plastered across your face, you did in fact have iced coffee.

“Maybe?” You answer, though it came out more like a question. Florence rolls her eyes at you.

“(Y/n), how many times do you have to be reminded that you’re lactose intolerant?” She scolded you.

You scoff, holding a hand up at her, “Trust me, I’m reminded every time I sit on a toilet.” You shake your head, trying to refocus the conversation.

“This isn’t about my poor digestive system—why are you nervous?”

She sighs, “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, I’m used to doing interviews and stuff. But I haven’t been on Jimmy Fallon, and there’s an audience out there and I don’t want to mess up or accidentally spoil the movie.”

You place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “You may be British, but you’re not Tom Holland. You won’t spoil anything.” You start. She quickly shoots you a look that screams, “you’re not helping”. You make a gesture physically telling her that you’re getting to the point.

“You’re going to be fine! I mean you did Jimmy Kimmel right? This shouldn’t be that different, it’s the same thing—just different studios, in different states, and different Jimmy’s.” You point out. She nods along as you continue, “Plus, I’m gonna be up there with you. You won’t be alone.”

With the help of your reassurance and witty little comments, Florence felt her anxiousness simmer down. They weren’t completely gone but the fact that you were gonna be up there together made her relax more. Being part of Marvel had its pros and cons. Sure, the movies are spectacular and the actors are outstanding. Though when it comes to doing promo for said movies, it can be quite stressful. It’s a known fact that Marvel and it’s executives can be quite strict when it comes to interviews with anyone involved in the making of their films—their strictness made sense, although for first time MCU members, it took some getting used to.

Florence smiles at you, “Thank you.”

You playfully nudge her shoulder with yours, “Don’t worry about it.” You say with a kind smile.

The wholesome moment was interrupted by one of the stagehands telling you and Florence that the two of you were on in 15 seconds.

“Our guests tonight are making their big MCU debut in the new Black Widow film, please welcome (Y/n) (L/n) and Florence Pugh!”

⚘

“So in the movie, there’s three of you guys—where’s the other one?” Jimmy asked, motioning his hand to the small space between you and Flo.

“She’s at home I believe.” Florence answered, glancing at you. “She’s busy doing stuff, you know—adult things.” She added.

You took the opportunity to make a joke and said, “Yet here we are promoting her movie.” You roll your eyes playfully. The crowd bursts out laughing, along with Jimmy, who smacked his desk.

“You know, we deserve a raise for this.” Flo considers, going along with your joke. She slightly snorts and nudges your arm with her elbow. “We could take Scarlett’s check and just split it in half for ourselves.”

“Problem solved.” You shrugged, high fiving her.

Another round of laughs fill the room as Jimmy says, “So you’re both taking Scarlett’s money?”

Jokingly, you nod in approval, “By the end of this interview? Definitely.”

Dropping the bit, you shake your head with a grin on your face. “I’m kidding! I’m only joking, I wouldn’t do that to her, even if I were forced to.”

Jimmy moves on as a picture of you, Florence, and Scarlett pops up on the screen. The picture had been posted on your Instagram and was taken while the three of you were filming in between takes. You were taking the selfie while Scarlett and Florence were poking their heads out from behind you making funny faces.

“I can’t imagine how exciting it is to be on a Marvel set, and to even work with one of the first ever heroes in the MCU—that must be insane!” Jimmy exclaims, motioning to another picture of the three of you.

“It’s unbelievable. To work alongside Scarlett and to follow this kind of path that she’s paved in the MCU is an honor. She really was like our older sister behind the scenes, because she was always guiding us and taking care of everyone. She’s the best.” Florence responded while you nodded in agreement.

“I watched the movie last night and one of the things I enjoyed the most was the dynamic the three of you had. You guys were like actual siblings.” Jimmy mentioned, motioning between you and Flo.

Florence giggled before squeezing you into a tight hug, “Yeah, she’s my big sister.” You smiled beamingly, patting her cheek before she let go.

“No, really! She’s like my actual younger sister.” You tell the audience, who “awed” at the hug you both shared. “We spent months on this movie and we spent every single day with each other. By the middle of production, we were basically roommates.”

“Roommates?” Jimmy questioned, leaning his elbows on his desk.

“Because I was always at her house.” Florence answered in a ‘duh’ tone. “I’ve actually grown an attachment to (Y/n), she’s like my comfort blanket. So I need to have her with me at all times. If she’s not with me, I just won’t leave the house.”

“Speaking of your attachment to (Y/n), there’s this video of you that you apparently sent her?” Jimmy gestured at you, “And you posted it on your Instagram and now the whole internet is obsessed with it.”

“Yup, that’s the one.” You confirmed.

“I know there’s probably some people who haven’t seen it, so here’s the video.” The video of Florence popped up on the screen and began to play.

(This fic was based on this TikTok😭)

Jimmy looked at you and Florence in amusement, “Can we get some context?”

Florence waved her hand at the screen and said, “As you can all see, I’m very persistent.”

“This wasn’t your first time sending her these kinds of videos?” Jimmy asked. You shook your head, a feign look of annoyance on your face.

“No, she does this all the time.”

“In my defense, I was unexpectedly flying out to New York for a project. I knew I was gonna be in the city for a few days, so I decided to call (Y/n) and make the most of my trip.” Flo defended herself, slightly pouting.

You leaned your head on her shoulder, “To be fair, it was also our first time seeing each other since we wrapped Black Widow, and we really missed each other.”

“(Y/n), did you have to move any plans?” Jimmy turns to you. Florence does the same.

“You know what, you never told me if you had plans or not.” She squints her eyes at you. Your arms crossed while your body slowly sunk into the couch.

You pretend to fix your lipstick, quickly muttering, “I might’ve moved some plans around.”

Florence’s mouth gapes in shock, her entire body freezing. She grips onto your shoulder, “Wait, you actually moved plans for me?”

“I might’ve rescheduled a lunch with someone, but that doesn’t really matter.” You replied, trying to move on from the topic. Jimmy pointed at you, a giant grin on his face, “You actually moved plans for Florence!”

Florence’s mouth was still wide in shock, “I can’t believe you actually moved plans for me—(Y/n)!” She whined.

“I missed seeing you, so of course I had to move them.” You bashfully explained, the corners of your lips turning upwards. Florence pulled you into a hug.

“Gosh, you really do love me!” She exclaimed.

“I really do!” You said, your arms wrapping around her as well.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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#marvel #mcu #avengers #marvel cast #marvel cast x reader #marvel cast headcanon #marvel cast imagines #florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh imagine #Florence Pugh headcanon #florence pugh fanfic #black widow #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader

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