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reallife6anoufriev6boy6 · 3 days ago

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dylric angst fanfic - part two

includes necro, noncon, hints of prey/predator, etc.

notes: rapist murder with a side of library necro suicide please! (yes so what if i used zero hour pictures for the banner…)

edit: ((if my phone corrects my shit one more time im gonna smash it…its SUPPOSED TO BE ZERO HOUR SMH…))

right to the end, just like a friend

i tried to warn you somehow

you had your way, now you must pay

im glad that youre sorry now

the hours had passed by quicker then dylan and eric could comprehend.

dylan had spent the whole night, sobbing into erics shoulder while he sat there and held him. it was the sweetest thing hes ever done for him.

until now.

they were dressed and ready to go. everything they needed to do was done, they were in their spots, and now all they had to do was wait for the bombs to go off in the cafeteria.

dylan stared at the building while everything was starting to hit him. this was really gonna happen, he was really gonna do this.

he was going to do this with his best friend and prove to everyone that they were gods - they decided who lived and who died for their mistakes.

he thinks to himself though that they shouldve gone off at this point.

he looked across the lot to eric, seeing him looking down at his watch and shaking his head. he looks up and then back down, cursing to himself.

he makes a quick move to grab the rest of what needed out of his car and dylan does as well once he sees it.

he had no idea what they were gonna do now - their plan revolved around the bombs, but as long as his friend had some semblance of a plan then he was fine with that.

eric walks his way over across the lot to dylan “cmon, vee, lets just get this over with - that freakin’ crap isnt gonna go off.” he was obviously annoyed, but he was gonna make the most out of this.

dylan nodded “yeah - yeah, alright.” is all he answered with before they both turned to head in.

they took care of everyone outside with ease, then dealt with everyone inside. it was going a little smoother then they expected it to, but it still had its faults.

they were split up for awhile too before they finally came back together and recuperated, ready for their next step.

however, dylan hadnt noticed any of the boys they were *really* after. they had taken care of who they wanted to except for them.

if they had stayed home today for whatever reason or had somehow escaped then this was totally ruined.

it made dylan nervous and frustrated - it made eric absolutely pissed.

he wasnt gonna go down without those fuckers going down with them - he promised dylan that it would be the last thing he does.

they walk through one of the hallways, glass cracking beneath their boots and blood making the floor slippery.

“have you seen them yet?” eric asked, looking over to dylan. he wasnt sure exactly what they looked like or who they were - he had a very vague idea, but it was hard to get any information from dylan about it.

the blonde shook his head “no, i havent. theyve gotta be around here somewhere - i thought i saw their cars in the lot.” he had remembered seeing the cars parked outside, but he couldve just been seeing things.

they both could tell how each other were feeling. eric could tell that dylan was on edge and was frustrated that he might not get to see them be taken down before his own death while dylan could tell that eric was pissed they were being pussies and not showing themselves - so much for being tough guys, huh?

“its fine, ill find them. dont worry,” eric reassured him, but paused “i promised you that.” he hesitated to say it and it came out all embarrassed, but it made dylan smile.

“thanks, reb.” he replied as they turned the corner.

the brunette was about to say something else, but as they rounded that corner they were face to face with who they were looking for.

there was four of them there. four muscular white guys who were jocks on the schools sports teams. they looked all tough and proud, but now they were about to be nothing.

they were trying to open one of the exit doors and as if it was some miracle from the god they didnt believe in, the door was jammed. it wouldnt open no matter how hard they tried.

it made eric snicker - natural selection, bitch, is what he thought.

the brunette looks to the other, seeing the blank look on his face and his stiff posture. that alone told him all he needed to know.

he walks right up ahead, checking his gun as he did so to make sure it was loaded.

“hey, assholes!,” he called over to them “turn around, let me get a good look at you!”

they each turn their heads, confused, but the confusion quickly turns to horror as they try harder to open the door.

“cmon, man, you dont gotta shoot us,” one of them speaks up, but he fails to sound manly and his voice shook “we didnt do shit to you!” he spat while his friends tried to tell him to lay off.

erics eyes narrowed, glaring while his finger hovered over the trigger “are you that retarded? didnt do anything?,” he laughed, turning his head to look at dylan who was a little further back “vodka, did these fags do something? or are we just making it up?”

dylan shakes his head as if to say they werent making it up. he swallowed hard.

“yeah? name one fuckin’ thing!” the other answered with quickly. he clearly wasnt too smart to be taunting like this.

dylan doesnt want to name anything. he doesnt want to describe what happened just for these sick fucks. he doesnt want to think about it more then he already has.

he hoped eric understood and he did.

he turned to look back at the other boys “you know what you did.” he hissed, respecting dylans obvious discomfort.

none of the boys say anything for a moment until one of them whispers something to the other.

“oh - oh, yeah! *you* guys!,” he laughed “i didnt do shit to *you*, harris, but maybe to that freak over there!,” he continued laughing as he pointed towards dylan - even his friends who were hesitant before seemed to giggle along with him “it was all just a joke, ya know, we didnt mean anything! way to get overdramatic like a girl!”

he just wouldnt shut up and even his friends joined in, saying snide remarks and insults.

the two of them just stared, listening to all of it. let them run their mouths and ruin this for themselves, they figured.

“youre such a pussy, klebold! making your little boyfriend fight for you? seriously? man up, shoot me like a fuckin’ man!”

that was it for eric. he raised his gun and pressed his finger down on the trigger - all hell broke loose again.

it was a symphony of screaming, bullets, and the click of his gun. it was music to his ears.

dylan on the other hand was in complete shock - like an animal almost. it was surreal to watch the boys who assaulted him be murdered right in front of him, especially by his best friend.

he didnt ever entertain thoughts like this, but, god was it hot.

he couldnt even think of a better way to say it - it was just *hot.*

eric looked so focused, so set on making sure each of them had enough lead put into them to last them their trip to hell. the way his shirt and pants clung to him - the sweat dripping down his forehead and arms - it was all so attractive.

he lets off the last couple of bullets, the hallway turning eerily quiet and peaceful besides the distant shrill of the fire alarm and police outside. they both stare at the mess of blood and bodies.

eric doesnt even realize when dylan finally walks up next to him, abruptly grabbing him by his face with both hands and placing his lips to his.

his eyes widened, completely caught off guard. he wasnt expecting anything like that at all - maybe just some shared words about how good it felt to do that, but not a kiss.

eric knew better, but it gave him a sick sense of power.

he just murdered his best friends rapists for him - it was almost like he owed him now.

he could be the hero and kill those guys, but that doesnt make him any better. he was a teenage boy with an obsession for power.

dylan pulled away less then a second later, clearly embarrassed “sorry, sorry,” it comes out quickly, ready to explain himself “you just - looked really good,” it comes out a little softer then he meant it to. theres a soft layer of blush that eric is just barely able to make out on his face “thank you, eric.”

they werent more then friends. thats what they thought, but there was always something - something between the two of them that extended far past the label of friendship. an underlying need.

even the events from the previous night theyd chalk up to close friendship, but it was more then that.

eric doesnt reply, but instead grabs the front of dylans shirt and pulls him back down, kissing him again.

the blonde is surprised, but he quickly reciprocates.

it was ironic how intimate this seemed considering their situation, but this was their last chance to ever do something like this. no one was here to judge them - it was just them and the end of their world.

they stay there like that without a care and its so oddly sweet, but erics own needs get the best of him.

he lets go of his friends shirt, but instead puts his hands on his hips - his nails dig in just the smallest bit.

however, dylan isnt a fan. it makes him a little uncomfortable - he was more then grateful for what he just did for him, but he wasnt trying to be like *that*.

he pulled away just a moment later, wiping away some of his spit with the back of his gloved hand.

the brunette is less then happy to have him pull away, but he doesnt say anything about it. he knew better - thats what he told himself.

“i think we should go.” the other broke their silence. the end was inevitable and they both knew it. they didnt want to say it outright, but they already knew what needed to be done.

“yeah,” eric answered back “im done with this crap anyway. we gave them what they were asking for - lets go.”

its a quiet walk down to the library aside from the occasional comment with laughter and the random firing of their guns.

they had did it - they accomplished the only goal they set out for themselves. they did what they had to do.

now it would be over - all the chaos and terror would come to an end and they would finally be set free from this hell they were born into.

now they were in the library, sitting on the floor together. they ran their plans over hundreds of times, but they never really seemed to go over this part.

they were both checking over their guns, making sure they were set and ready.

“we’re doing it together, right?” eric asked, earning a nod from dylan “yeah. should be easiest that way.”

the discussion of that stops there. there wasnt really much to be said. they were going to die no matter how they did it.

dylan goes to place the end of his gun to the roof of his mouth, but he paused, turning to his friend.

“thank you - you know, for everything,” the other turns his head as he speaks “you were a great friend, reb.” theres something so surreal about the way he says it - they never put any thought into what their last words would be, so for it to be something so genuine was odd.

the brunette smiled “yeah, you too, vee,” its so weird to hear anything nice come out of his mouth, but it happens anyway “guess we’ll see each other in hell, huh?” he laughed and so does the other. they could barely ever take themselves seriously.

“yeah, man. ill see you there.” he replied back through his laughing. it sounded like they were just joking around - like they hadnt just murdered people and were about to finish themselves.

the laughter dies down though, being their final sign to get things moving along.

dylan placed the gun where it needed to be, glancing over to eric as if to let him know he should do it too, which he does.

neither of them make a move - at least until the blonde turns his head away, finger over the trigger. his friend followed his actions, keeping a finger over the trigger as well.

only a moment later did eric hear the bang from the gun, followed by the thud of his friends body falling.

this was where he was supposed to pull the trigger - end whatever suffering he was supposedly going through, but something makes him hesitate.

he knows what hes supposed to do - he knows he shouldn’t look over and should just get this over with, but he cant help it when he pulls the gun away and looks over to dylan.

it was just about as graphic as he wouldve expected. his head was blown open and the blood was already making a mess on the floor - he noticed how some of the splatter even got on his arm.

it was definitely weird to see his friend that way, but he couldn’t seem to piece together any other emotions. it was just *weird.*

he looks away and puts the gun back to where it belongs. he had to get this over with and just be done with it - there was no other way out of it. however, again, something makes him hesitate.

thats until he hears what sounds like gagging and choking.

he moves the gun away again and looks back over, seeing now that dylan was choking on his own blood while his body seemed to twitch and convulse.

it was a bad shot - a terrible shot even. he shouldve aimed better, but eric couldnt look away.

he just stared and watched.

it was wrong - so, so wrong about what he thought of next. he still owed him - he owed him for killing those guys who had hurt him. he didnt want to be on the same level as those guys, but he was far past that now that hes killed their classmates and committed crimes of his own.

he quietly set his gun down on the floor, getting up and sitting right in between his thighs.

was he seriously going to do this? was he really going to be as sick and disgusting as those guys - if not worse? yes, he was.

he swallowed hard, reaching a hand up to unzip his pants and pull them down. hes greeted with pale, scarred skin and thin thighs. it was a little off putting - he wasnt a big fan of the scars, but he carried on anyway.

he knew he had to make this as quick as possible considering there probably wouldnt be a lot of time before the police arrived in the building. of course, he didnt know that it would take them as long as it really did, but he just had to make the assumption.

he quickly pulled down his boxers and barely gives himself a chance to look at him before he was already taking care of his own. he unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down just enough to take his cock out.

it was kind of disgusting how hard he already was. who knew all this murder and gore would get him so worked up.

eric readjusted their position, fixing the position of dylans legs and body, which was hard to do because of all the involuntary movement.

any thoughts of morality were thrown out the window at this point - there was no time for him to think about how wrong this was. he just had to do it. it was owed to him.

he lines up with the other, forcing himself in with a hiss. it was a tight fit - he wasnt welcomed here and he never would be. the groan it pulled out from dylan only proved that further.

he pulls back out, pushing back in and trying to get a pace started. its slow and rather awkward - he had never had sex with anyone before so he really only knew how to do this because of porn - and even that wasnt a great reference material when dylan didnt have a cunt like the girls he watched.

the brunette tries to make it work though, biting down on his lip as he forced himself in as far as he could go.

he would be lying if he said it didnt feel good. it felt *amazing.* maybe the blonde really did feel that good or maybe the situation made it better. he had no idea and he would never know.

he holds onto his hips for more leverage, trying to build up a better, quicker pace. it works somewhat - his own precum starting to make the slide bearable and easy.

he pulled another noise from the boy on the floor once he started to go faster, listening to his continued gagging and groaning. it was like he was aware, but just not quite.

it didnt matter though, he was gonna finish one way or another.

shame starts to creep its way in, but he has to shove it down. he feels ashamed that hes doing this to his best friend whos about half dead on the floor - not to mention he was another guy. his first time shouldve been with some pretty girl he met, not with a guy he considered his best friend who was bleeding out onto the floor.

at the same time though theres something about that specific fact. something so primal about taking what was his - not having a care about what anyone would think of him for doing this. he was an animal, a predator taking what he needed from his prey - what he was owed and deserved.

the thought of that alone just about sends him over the edge - thrusting in particularly hard with a moan of his own. he does it again, followed by one more until hes finally spilling inside of him.

the twitch of dylans body and the gagging seems to stop as he did so.

he stays inside of him, not bothering to pull out. his whole body felt fuzzy and there was a sort of hazy feeling that hung over him. it was euphoric, really.

he has to pull out though against his own needs, looking over his work. he just about gets another erection when barely any of his cum leaks out.

he has to refrain himself though. he stuffs his own cock back into his boxers, fixing his pants and then turning his attention to his friend. he pulls up his pants and boxers too, fixing them and putting everything back into place.

eric wondered what the reports would say about this. what the autopsy report would say about the cum left inside of his friend and on his own dick - maybe theyd say he had raped him in death which wouldnt be wrong, or maybe theyd think it happened before - that dylan was some kind of faggot who willingly took it up the ass.

either way, it didnt matter.

eric wouldnt be around to see it and neither would dylan.

#tcc fandom #tcc tumblr #tccblr #tcctwt #tee cee cee #tccblur #teeceecee #dylan columbine #eric columbine #tcc columbine #columbine tcc #columbine 1999 #dylric #dylan and eric #eric and dylan #anoufrievboy fanfics

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nostarfights · 3 days ago

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Chapter One of Made Your Mark

Pairing: sugardaddy!rockstar!Eddie Munson X fem!reader

Summary: You and Eddie meet on the sugar daddy site recommended to you by Steve.

Word Count: 2.3K

Fic Masterlist

As of today, it had been six months since you graduated from your university. Six months since your graduation where you were spoken to about new opportunities and where life can take you. Six months of companies not moving forward with you for the job you applied for, for the job you spent four years of your life getting your degree for. You’d spent four years trying to become an author and still no one wanted to hire you. Six months of working at some fancy restaurant near your apartment that barely paid you enough to get by in life.

To say you were frustrated and wanting to give up was an understatement, you were furious. But you promised yourself that you would keep trying and trying until you got the job you worked so hard for. Which you hoped would happen soon seeing as you were getting pretty tired of the rich people who talked down to you at the restaurant where you worked as a waitress.

You were underpaid and just tired of it all, working there and trying to get the job you wanted was more exhausting than the four years of work you put in to actually get your degree. But you were still determined nevertheless.

You’d expected a restaurant like this in such a busy area of your city to be well paying, but it turns out a little above minimum wage and very small tips is what you get working there. So, on the side you wrote articles for small magazines during your free time, which turned out to be somewhat successful. But the most you’d ever earned on one of your articles was $400, which would have to do for now until you got the job you actually wanted, not needed.

At the current moment, the time was 10:30pm on a Saturday and you had gotten home not long ago from another busy shift at the restaurant. You were tired and your body was sore, as if you had just gone on a four hour long hike. Your hair becoming a little messy as you got settled on your couch, the belt that was once in the loops on your black dress pants now resting on the floor next to your coffee table and the first few buttons of your shirt undone. You were just about to fall asleep here, your eyelids growing more and more heavy with each passing moment, when someone knocked on your door, causing you to perk up right away.

Not feeling the need to ask who it was on your doorstep at this hour, you simply got up then unlocked and opened the front door to your apartment. Revealing your best friend, Steve to be standing there on the other side of the door.

He softly greeted you with a hug, making you smile into his chest. “Hey, how’ve you been?” he gently asked as he rubbed your back. “Hi, Stevie.” you quietly said while you hugged him back, making a smile of his own appear on his face. “I’ve been alright, just tired and frustrated. The usual.” you answer with a shrug, quickly closing the door behind him after you leave his arms. Your answer made him frown as the two of you walked over to your couch.

You and Steve had known each other since middle school and had been very close since then. You had truly been through it all together. He hated to see that his best friend was struggling even after all you had done to get what you wanted.

That frown is still on Steve’s face as he started to speak again, “I understand. But I have to admit, I’m tired of seeing you like this, y’know, struggling. You don’t deserve to.” he said from his spot next to you on your couch. You let a sigh escape your lips, your shoulders dropping into a more relaxed position, “I know,” you said, pausing to take a deep breath, “but there’s not much I can do except keep sending out my manuscript to more publishers. Although I will admit I don’t have much hope, it’s just been six months of rejections from every publisher I’ve send it to. I hate that it’s this hard to be successful at the job I literally got my degree for but I guess all I can do is keep trying and working.” you told him, fully conveying your frustration and exhaustion to Steve again.

He nodded in response and gently placed his hand over yours, “I get it and I agree, you should keep trying. But until you do get an acceptance from a publisher, I do have a suggestion that could get you out of working that tiring waitress gig I know you hate.” he replied, making you chuckle a little while a smirk appeared on his lips.

You jokingly rolled your eyes at him and began to rest your head on the couch, “Oh no, what is it this time?” you jokingly said, waiting to hear what Steve had to say, no longer surprised by his antics. He nodded in response then spoke once more, “Now this is just a suggestion, so just hear me out okay?” he said, earning a nod from you in response before he speaks again, “I think that you should check out this sugar daddy site I’ve used a few times called Classy. There’s a lot of rich lonely guys on there who will literally pay you just to hang out with them. It’s not as bad as you’d think it would be.” he explained, moving his hands around while he talked.

You had to admit, it’s a decent and possible solution to your problem. But you still felt a bit suspicious about it anyway.

You opened your mouth to speak but Steve quickly interrupted before you could even get a word out, “I know what you’re going to say but, please, just think about it.” he said, making you roll your eyes again. “Steve, I appreciate the advice I do. But you know I want to be independent, I don’t know how to feel about the idea of relying on someone else for money. But I promise to think about it and that’s all you’re getting out of me, Stevie.” you replied, ending your statement with a laugh while you point at Steve. He laughs with you, “Fine, but I still think you should do it.” he said, his hands up in the air in surrender, causing the two of you to laugh a little.

As for the rest of the night, you and Steve sat on your couch and talked a bit more about all of the things that have been going on in your lives since you last spoke to each other.

You told him about how stressful work has been and the recent articles you’ve written. How your dating life has been non-existent with how busy you’ve been. Steve told you about how stressful his own job has been. As well as how nicely past arrangements with sugar daddies have gone for him and to be picky when picking one.

A few hours later at about 2am, after talking for a while you and Steve said your goodbyes and he headed home, promising to tell you that he made it home safe when he got there.

Once he had left, you began to get ready for bed while you thought about Steve’s suggestion. If you’re being honest with yourself, this whole sugar daddy thing did sound a bit appealing.

But it is something you wanted to think about and talk to Steve about more before you made a decision. You just wanted to make sure that the site is safe and that you wouldn’t be putting yourself into a dangerous situation. You also wanted to really think about whether or not you are really okay with having someone, a rich man specifically, help you out financially. You almost fell asleep that night thinking about it too, but you decided to let your mind rest for now. You’d call Steve in the morning–the beginning of your day off– and talk about it more then.

—Time Skip: Two Days Later—

Two days have passed now since Steve had brought up the idea of getting a sugar daddy to you and after a lot of talking and thinking about it, you decided to give the site a chance. But if it ended up going badly for you, you’d never use it again. And as a safety precaution, you promised to send Steve the name, phone number and photo of the guy you end up deciding to meet up with.

Your profile on the site consisted of the basic things about you one might want to know, a few of your interests and a few photos of you to go along with it. Afterward, you began to scroll through the site and the profiles of the sugar daddies on there.

Meanwhile, as you were deciding whether to go through with signing up for this site or not, Eddie was sitting on his own couch in his own home.

At this point in his life, Eddie was one month into his band, Corroded Coffin’s one year long break from making music and touring. When the band was active, he had been completely fine with living alone, he was too busy to even have the chance to feel lonely. But now that he had absolutely nothing to do but work on his solo music, that lonely feeling had easily creeped into his life. Now his home felt empty and cold instead of comforting and warm like it usually did when he was busy. Because of touring and making music, he used to rarely be here and now he’s here all the time.

He wanted someone to spend his newfound free time with, he wanted companionship. But it’s a bit difficult for him to find love on dating apps, all of his accounts end up getting taken down not long after he makes them because people think they’re someone pretending to be him. He can’t meet anyone by just going out anymore without getting swarmed by paparazzi and fans because of his fame. So, he decided to check out a sugar daddy site called ‘Classy’ that he’s seen ads for a few times. “Maybe it could be promising?" he thought.

Nevertheless, he decided to give it a shot and created an account on the site. Like you, on his profile he included some basic information about himself, some of his interests and a few photos of himself. His bio, which he quickly typed out without really thinking about it, simply said, “37, Just looking for someone to spend time with.” Then like you he began to scroll through the site and the profiles of the sugar babies on there.

Ten minutes into your own scrolling, you stopped on Eddie’s profile–his beauty having caught your eye–and you clicked on it right away. After looking through his profile a bit, it seems like he would be a good match for you. He’s definitely not as demanding as the other men on there. So you messaged him. You knew who he was of course and while you are shocked to see him on the site, you didn't bring either of those things up in your message, assuming that he probably just wants to be treated like any other person.

The message you ended up sending to him after deleting and retyping it a few times said, “Hey, if you’re up for it, I’d be open to discussing an arrangement that would work best for us. :)” You then, with your heart still beating a little fast, hit send and closed the website on your phone for now.

—————————

After a bit of scrolling, Eddie really hadn’t found anyone who matched what he was looking for. But he didn’t want to give up on this yet, so he headed over to the inbox part of the site and saw that nearly a hundred messages had already appeared even though his account had only existed for less than an hour. Most of these people didn’t really interest him, mostly because they seemed to only be interested in him because of his fame, not because they want the same thing as him.

Seeing this made him want to give up for now and he’s about to close the site, mentally planning on looking at it again later when he sees your name in his inbox and the preview of what you had sent to him. But before he had properly looked at the message you sent, he was immediately drawn to look at your profile first. Your profile picture alone had him entranced, you were just so beautiful and the bits of your personality that you included on your profile only made him more entranced with you. If that was even possible.

He then read your message, the message making him smile to know that this woman he was so drawn to was interested in the same sort of arrangement as him. He messaged you back as soon as he finished reading your message, his fingers gliding across the keyboard on his phone, “Hi. Sounds like a plan! Meet me at The Rouge for dinner on Friday at 6pm so we can properly talk about how we both want this to work. See you then. ;)” Not long after he had sent this, you checked the site and saw this message waiting for you in your inbox, your cheeks blushing at the thought of a man as handsome as him being interested in you.

You agreed to meeting up with him for dinner right away and he responded again quite quickly like you had, this time with his number so that the two of you wouldn’t have to keep in touch through the site. You then sent him a quick message saying hi and letting him know that it was you texting him, getting a response from him moments later that simply said, “Hi :)” back, causing you to smile softly to yourself.

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quitealotofsodapop · 6 hours ago

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"Uh, Monkey King?" MK asked, ducking as a rather expensive pensive looking cloth flew ive this head, "What are you doing?"

"Packing." Sun Wukong grunted, eyeing what appeared to be a ceremonial robe of sorts with a critical eye. MK felt apprehension build in him, remembering what happened the last time he found his master packing.

"Are you... going somewhere?" MK swallowed his anxiety, hoping beyond all hope the answer was no. The gods, however, did not grant his wish.

"Yeah." Wukong sighed, running his hand through his fur, "I got some business that requires me to be gone for about a week. I'll try to keep you updated."

"A week!?" MK parrots back in horror, "But what about my training!?"

Wukong paused, tail flicking, before turning back to MK as if shocked he'd even ask that.

"MK, after everything that happened, do you really think a short break in training would be that big of an impact!?" Wukong asked, legitimately confused by MK's worry, "'Sides, you knot definitely are far enough in your training some self-guided study would be a benefit. If you want i can give you some tasks to do while I'm gone, too."

"But where are you going!?" MK asked, "And don't lie about going on vacation like you did with the whole Lady Bone Demon thing! Wait... is this like the lady Bone Demon? Are you having me behind again!?"

"Uh, no." Wukong grunted, pushing MK out of his face. "I just have some kingly duties to fulfill that require me to take a trip. I'm not going to be gone more than a week, maybe two at most. And Macaque is keeping an eye on the island so if anything happens, he can send a message to me."

MK froze at that, confusion written in his face. He tilted his head as he looked at the other monkey,

"Kingly duties? I thought being the Monkey King meant fighting bad guys and taking naps whenever you want!"

"No." Wukong chuckles, choosing to be amused by his apprentice' backwards comment than offended, "Being the Monkey Kid means fighting bad guys and saving the world. Being the Monkey King is a biiiit more complicated than that."

"...Say what now?"

"Alright, let's just say... I've been kinda keeping a lot of what goes into being my successor a secret." Wukong's paw came up to rub the back of his neck, "With so many major threats popping up all over the place, I'd focused entirely on your training as a warrior, but there's a side I haven't even began to touch. I wanted to make sure you were the best warrior you could be before either tried to add the ksot political and administrative side of being my heir into the fold."

"Politics!?" MK spat out incredulously, staring straight his mentor in disbelief.

"I am the Monkey King, MK. That means I have a whole kingdom to run." Wukong continued, "Any and all of the free time i get is dedicated to training you on top of that! The Counsel of the Great Demon Kings happens every hundred years or so. I hadn't gone to the last four, but since I've made a public reappearance, and with an apprentice at that, I'm expected to go and can't wiggle out of it this time! Believe me, I've tried."

"So like... Are you just up and leaving without me?" MK now looked heartbroken, putting all the puppy dog eyes on full blast, "You promised not to leave me again though!"

Wukong groaned, catching on to what MK was trying to do.

"Kid... you don't want to come with me. It's not going to be fun or exciting at all. You'll be forced to wear uncomfortable ceremonial robes that weigh a ton and have to be quiet and well-behaved." Wukong explained, trying to dissuade MK from his train of thought, "And everyone there is mean! They are dying to sniff out a scandal or two to take advantage of!"

"So? You said yourself you neglected to teach me how to handle politics. This is the perfect opportunity to start!" MK grinned, "I'm sure Tang can lend me one of his robes too."

"First of all, you will NEVER go to one of these events with a stuffy old scholar's robe. I'd lend you one of mine if that EVER happened." Wukong pointed out, eye twitching, "Second, NO! This is a final test sort of deal, NOT a tutorial type of thing!"

hehe! We discussed in the dms about poor Wukong having to attend a political summit for demon kings, and MK getting "homework" for the week.

Pigsy is approving of the homework idea. He's raised MK long enough to know his son needs goals to fulfil or he starts getting into trouble.

#sun wukong #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid #others writings #im a little sick rn so this was nice to read

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shaiprsly · 1 day ago

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𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - PT.4

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Elvis Presley x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 1972. Fame, wealth, and the haunting allure of Elvis Presley—everything Y/N could ever want, except the one thing that really matters: a simple, normal life. Hired as the nanny for Lisa Marie Presley, Y/N is thrown into the heart of the Presley world, where she quickly becomes more than just a caretaker for Elvis's daughter. As Priscilla remains distant, Y/N steps in, offering Lisa Marie the affection and attention she craves. But it’s Elvis, cold and aloof at first, who soon becomes captivated by her. With 15 years between them, Elvis begins to blur the lines between professional and personal, showering Y/N with gifts and flirting dangerously. He may be married, but that doesn't stop him from wanting Y/N. Torn between duty and desire, Y/N must face the growing tension, knowing that giving in could shatter everything she’s worked for. Will she resist the King of Rock and Roll, or will his love prove impossible to escape?

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬/𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Cussing, cheating, age gap (Elvis is 37, reader is 22), emotional manipulation. I guess that all !!

𝐀/𝐍 : Haiii, just wanted to clarify that I'm talking about the famous photoshoot of the Presleys here, the date isn't correct!! The real year where the pics have been taken is 1970. And they weren't taken at Graceland.

The soft light of the morning filters into your bedroom as your alarm clock buzzes faintly. Groaning, you stretch out under the covers, reluctant to leave the warmth of your bed. But the clock reads 7:00 AM, and you know you need to start the day.

After a quick shower, you towel off and get dressed. You slip into an off-shoulder olive-green top, the textured fabric hugging your figure comfortably, while the tiered brown ruffled skirt you choose sways softly with each step. Fastening a green leather belt at your waist and stepping into dark brown platform heels, you feel ready to tackle the day. A spritz of your favorite woody perfume and a glance in the mirror seals the deal before you head into the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee.

You’re halfway through your second sip when the phone on the wall rings, breaking the morning silence. Setting your mug down, you cross the room and pick it up.

“Hello?” you say, your voice still groggy from sleep.

“Y/N, it’s Priscilla.” Her voice is brisk but not unfriendly.

“Oh, good morning, Mrs. Presley,” you reply, instantly more alert. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine,” she assures you, though her tone carries its usual sharp edge. “I’m calling to let you know Elvis and I will be at Graceland this afternoon at 2pm for an hour or two. There’s a photoshoot scheduled with Lisa Marie, and we’ll need you to keep her entertained beforehand and make sure she’s ready.”

“Of course,” you say, nodding even though she can’t see you.

“You’ll need to be here by 10 AM, and you can leave around 11 PM today.” Priscilla continues. “She’ll need lunch and dinner, so plan accordingly. And make sure she’s in a good mood—Elvis doesn’t want her cranky during the shoot.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply, jotting down a quick note to yourself on the counter.

Priscilla pauses for a moment before adding, “Elvis and I will be busy after the photoshoot so we're not gonna be home after that, but we’ll see you briefly when we arrive around 10:50pm tonight. Just keep Lisa Marie happy.”

“I’ll take care of her,” you promise.

“Good,” she says shortly, and with that, the line clicks dead.

You hang up the phone, letting out a soft breath. Graceland days were long, but you didn’t mind spending time with Lisa Marie. She was sweet, if a little headstrong, and you’d grown fond of her.

Finishing your coffee, you grab your handbag and double-check that you have everything you’ll need. It’s just another day at Graceland—but you can’t help but feel a faint flicker of nerves whenever you step into that world.

The drive to Graceland is peaceful, the sun still low in the sky as it casts a golden glow over the treetops. You hum softly to the radio, your nerves fluttering as you approach the iconic gates. With a wave from the guard, the heavy iron gates swing open, and you ease your car up the winding driveway, Graceland’s grand silhouette growing larger with each passing moment.

As you park near the side entrance, the door creaks open before you even step out. Lisa Marie stands there, her little frame leaning against the doorway, her face lighting up the moment she spots you.

“I saw ya, I saw ya!” she squeals, clapping her hands together. “I was lookin’ out my winda an’ I saw ya drivin’ up! Like a princess comin’ in her big carriage!”

Her excitement makes you laugh softly as you grab your bag. “Good morning, Lisa. You’re wide awake already, huh?”

“Uh-huh!” she nods, bouncing on her toes. “been waitin’ for you. Daddy said I gotta do pic-shures today, but don’t wanna. They always make me wear itchy dresses, an’ I don’t like ‘em.”

You step into the cool entryway, kneeling to her height as you gently smooth her bedhead curls. “Well, we’ve got a little time before all that, don’t we? Maybe we can do something fun first.”

Lisa tilts her head, considering your words. “Like what?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you reply with a reassuring smile. “But first, have you had breakfast yet?”

She shakes her head dramatically, her lips forming a pout. “waited fow you. Daddy says gotta eat all my yucky eggs, but I don’t like ‘em. You make better eggs. Not yucky ones.”

“Well, how about we skip the eggs and make pancakes instead?”

Her eyes grow wide, and she gasps, clasping her hands to her chest. “Panny-cakes?! With the little tiny syrupy thingies?”

You laugh. “Yes, with syrup. Let’s go whip some up.”

Lisa grabs your hand eagerly, tugging you toward the kitchen. Her little feet patter softly against the floor as she chatters on. “You’re da best pancake maker in the whoooole world. Better than Daddy, better than Mommy, better than evy-body!”

“Well, that’s a big title to live up to,” you tease, rolling up your sleeves as you reach the kitchen.

Climbing onto one of the chairs, Lisa swings her legs back and forth as she watches you with rapt attention. “Can you make ‘em look like Mickey Mouse? Daddy tried one time, but it looked like a blob,” she giggles, covering her mouth. “A big, funny blob!”

“Challenge accepted,” you say, setting the ingredients on the counter.

As you start preparing breakfast, Lisa’s nonstop chatter fills the quiet kitchen, her giggles and questions making the grand, empty house feel a little less intimidating.

You grab a fresh batch of pancake batter and pour it into the hot pan, trying to make a Mickey Mouse shape, just like the one Lisa Marie asked for. But as you carefully pour the batter, it doesn’t quite turn out how you imagined. The ears are lopsided, and the face is more of a squiggle than anything resembling Mickey Mouse. You frown, poking at the mess with the spatula.

“Uh-oh,” you murmur to yourself, trying to salvage it, but it’s too late. The pancake is already burned on one side and too runny on the other.

Lisa Marie, who’s been bouncing around the kitchen, pauses and looks at the pancake with big, wide eyes. “Is dat Mickey?” she asks, tilting her head and blinking like she’s trying to figure it out.

You laugh nervously, holding up the pancake with a sheepish grin. “Uh, well… it was supposed to be, sweetie.”

She stares at it for a second, then giggles. “It’s Mickey’s... cousin!” she exclaims, pointing to the pancake. “Mickey Mouse’s cousin! He funny.”

You can’t help but laugh too, shaking your head. “Yeah, I think he’s got a bit of a funny face. But hey, it still tastes good, right?”

She nods eagerly, grabbing her fork and taking a big bite. “Mmm, it’s yummy! But he looks silly,” she giggles between mouthfuls.

You serve up the rest of the pancakes, making sure they’re not as disastrous as the first one. As you set the plate in front of her, she claps her hands, excited. “Yay! Pancakes! Lots of pancakes!”

You sit down next to her with your own plate, watching her happily eat her pancake “cousin” and then pour syrup all over it with delight. “I think you like pancakes more than Mickey Mouse,” you tease.

Lisa Marie smiles, syrup dripping down her chin. “Yeah, pancakes are better than Mickey!” She giggles, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her dress, completely unbothered by the mess. “I wike you! You make da best pancakes!”

You smile, feeling a warmth in your chest. “Thanks, sweetie. But next time, I think we’ll leave the Mickey Mouse pancakes to the experts.”

She giggles again, nodding. “Okay! Let’s make more pancakes tomorrow!” she says excitedly, her little hands pushing her empty plate aside to grab another.

“You got it,” you reply, getting up to grab the syrup again.

Lisa Marie just laughs and nods enthusiastically, already digging into her next pancake with glee.

The rest of the morning goes by in a blur of giggles and games. You play hide-and-seek in the big living room, Lisa Marie darting behind furniture with a squeal as you pretend not to see her peeking out. Then, it’s coloring time, her tiny hands clumsily switching between crayons as she insists on drawing a picture of you, herself, and Elvis. The drawing turns out more like scribbles, but she holds it up proudly, saying, “Dis is you, Y/N! See, your hair’s so pwetty!”

After all the fun and running around, you manage to coax her into sitting down for lunch. You prepare her a small plate of chicken nuggets, some mashed potatoes, and green beans, and to your relief, she actually eats most of it while chattering on about her favorite toys and how she wants a puppy.

“Can we get a puppy?” she asks with wide, hopeful eyes as she pops a nugget into her mouth.

You laugh lightly, shaking your head. “That’s a question for your daddy, sweetheart.”

She pouts dramatically, but the expression is gone in seconds as she skips off to play again after finishing her plate.

Around 1 PM, it’s time to start getting her ready for the photoshoot. Lisa Marie dances around her room as you look through her closet, trying to pick the perfect dress. You hold up a few options, but she shakes her head at each one.

“Not dat one,” she says, pointing to a pink dress. “It’s too itchy!”

Finally, she gasps excitedly when you pull out a white, blue, and red dress with tiny white dots scattered all over it. “Dat one! Dat’s my princess dress!”

You smile, kneeling down to her level. “This one’s perfect. You’ll look so pretty in it for the photos.”

She grins, bouncing on her toes. “Like a princess!”

You help her into the dress, smoothing the fabric and tying the sash in the back into a neat bow. Once she’s dressed, you brush her soft curls. Lisa Marie admires herself in the mirror, spinning around and giggling as the skirt twirls.

“Do you like it?” you ask, straightening the bow one last time.

She nods enthusiastically. “I’m so pwetty!”

You laugh softly, planting a gentle kiss on her head. “You’re the prettiest, sweet girl.”

Lisa Marie beams up at you, grabbing your hand. “Can we play till Mommy and Daddy come?”

You glance at the clock, noting there’s still a little time before they’re supposed to arrive. “Of course. What do you want to play?”

She tugs you toward her dolls, already deep in thought about what adventure they’ll go on next. The rest of the time passes quickly, filled with laughter and imagination as Lisa Marie bounces between games, her energy seemingly endless.

____

Around 2 PM, the sound of car tires crunching on the gravel outside catches your attention. You glance out the window and see a sleek black car pulling into the driveway, followed closely by another vehicle.

Lisa Marie tugs on your hand excitedly, her curls bouncing as she tries to see. “Is Mommy an’ Daddy here?”

You crouch down beside her and point. “Looks like it, and the photographer’s here too. Are you ready to show them your princess dress?”

She gasps and twirls on the spot, the skirt of her dress flaring out. “I’m so weady!”

Grabbing her hand, you guide her downstairs. Just as you reach the bottom step, the front door opens, and Elvis steps in, followed by Priscilla. The two of them are dressed to perfection, both looking like they’ve just walked out of a magazine.

“Daddy!” Lisa Marie squeals, running toward Elvis.

Elvis crouches to catch her in his arms, lifting her up effortlessly. His lips curve into a warm smile as he spins her around. “Well, don’t you look like a lil’ doll, darlin’.. Ain’t ya just the prettiest thing I ever did see?”

Lisa Marie giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Y/N picked my dwess!”

He glances over at you, his piercing blue eyes locking with yours for a brief moment as he whispers. “Good choice, baby. She looks perfect.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the nickname, quickly nodding. “She’s the one who chose it, really.”

Priscilla steps inside then, her heels clicking against the floor as she pulls off her sunglasses. She gives you a polite nod before turning her attention to Lisa Marie. “Sweetheart, you look beautiful. Let’s make sure you stay clean before the pictures, okay?”

Before you can respond, the photographer walks in behind them, carrying his equipment. He flashes everyone a bright smile. “Afternoon! Ready to get started?”

Elvis sets Lisa Marie down, ruffling her curls gently. “Let’s get to it, then. Don’t wanna keep anyone waitin’.”

Lisa Marie grabs your hand again, tugging you toward the door. “Come wif me, Y/N! You gotta come see!”

You follow them into the formal sitting room, where everything is already set up for the photoshoot. The ornate chairs and backdrop look like they were arranged yesterday, with the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the setup. Lisa Marie skips ahead of you, her tiny hand still gripping yours tightly, and she looks up at Elvis with wide, excited eyes.

“Daddy! Y/N gonna be in da pictures too, wight?”

Her innocent question catches everyone off guard. You stop in your tracks, glancing between Lisa Marie and Elvis, unsure how to respond. Elvis exchanges a quick look with Priscilla, who raises an eyebrow, and then back at you.

“Uh, baby, this is just for me, your mama, and you,” Elvis explains gently, crouching down to her level.

Lisa Marie’s expression shifts instantly, her lips trembling. “But...but I wan’ Y/N in da pictures! She’s fam’ly too!”

Your heart squeezes at her words, but you kneel beside her, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Lisa, sweetheart, this is a special photoshoot for you and your parents. I’m just here to cheer you on, okay?”

She shakes her head stubbornly, tears welling in her eyes. “No! I wan’ you too! Pwease, Y/N! You gotta!”

Priscilla sighs, crossing her arms. “Lisa, honey, stop fussing. You’ll ruin your dress.”

But Lisa Marie only starts crying harder, clinging to you. “Pwease, Y/N! Don’t weave me!”

You glance at Elvis helplessly, but he gestures for you to handle it. With a soft smile, you brush Lisa’s curls back from her tear-streaked cheeks. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, baby girl. Tell you what—I’ll sit right here, and I’ll make you laugh while you take your pictures. How does that sound?”

She sniffles, looking up at you with watery eyes. “You pwomise?”

“I promise,” you say firmly, holding out your pinky.

She hooks her little pinky around yours, her sobs quieting slightly. Elvis picks her up and carries her to the chair while you find a spot just out of frame. As the photographer begins, you make silly faces and wave your arms dramatically behind the camera, doing everything you can to distract Lisa and make her giggle.

It works—soon, her laughter fills the room, lighting up her face for the photos. Even Elvis can’t hide a smile as he watches you from the corner of his eye. When the shoot finally wraps up, Lisa Marie runs straight to you, wrapping her arms tightly around your neck.

“Thank you, Y/N! You da bestest!”

You hold her close, your heart full. “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

____

You’re standing in the kitchen, rinsing off the last plate from lunch when you hear the sound of boots scuffing lightly against the tile floor behind you. Turning, you see Elvis leaning in the doorway, one arm crossed over his chest, the other casually holding the edge of the frame.

“Afternoon, baby,” he drawls, his voice low and syrupy, the Southern twang unmistakable. “You mind if I keep ya company for a minute?”

You blink, caught off guard, but quickly nod. “Uh, sure. I’m just finishing up here.”

He steps further into the room, leaning his hip against the counter like he owns the space. His gaze flickers over you before settling on your face. “How old are ya, anyhow? You look young, but I can’t figure ya out.”

“I’m twenty two,” you reply, feeling a little self-conscious under his sharp gaze.

“Twenty two,” he repeats, like he’s tasting the word. He smirks slightly. “Well, damn. I thought maybe younger. You from Memphis?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m from a small town a couple hours away.”

“Small-town girl,” he muses, his grin widening. “That right? What’d ya do for fun out there, huh? Or you just jump straight into watchin’ other folks’ kids?”

“I didn’t do much,” you admit with a small shrug. “I like to read. Sometimes draw. It’s pretty boring, honestly.”

“Borin’?” He raises an eyebrow, his grin turning crooked. “I don’t believe that for a second. Bet there’s more to ya than you’re lettin’ on.”

He leans a little closer, his voice dropping just slightly. “What about boys? Got a boyfriend back in that little town of yours?”

The question catches you off guard, and your cheeks heat up instantly. “No, I don’t,” you say, stumbling a little over your words. “I… haven’t really had the time for that.”

He chuckles, the sound rich and low. “Smart girl. Boys can be trouble anyway. Nothin’ but headaches most the time.” He pauses, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. His blue eyes wander the room before landing back on you.

You finish up putting the dishes away when you hear Elvis’s voice again, this time softer, more sincere.

“Hey, baby,” he says from the doorway, his tone almost hesitant. He’s not leaning casually against the frame this time—he’s standing a little straighter, a more serious air about him.

You turn to face him, your hands still occupied with drying the plates, but you give him a nod. “Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say… I’m sorry for the other day. For yellin' at ya,” he begins, his Southern drawl steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability you never heard from him. “I wasn’t myself, and I shouldn’t have treated ya like that.”

You pause, drying your hands on the dish towel, looking at him. You can tell by the way he’s standing, the way his shoulders are slightly slumped, that he means it.

“Yeah, I noticed,” you say, your voice a little more honest than you expected, but you can’t help it. The tension from the past few days still hangs heavy in the air.

He lets out a slow breath, like he’s trying to steady himself before continuing. “It’s just, sometimes… things pile up, ya know? Life gets in the way. I got a lot of pressure on me, and sometimes, I don’t know how to deal with it. Those pills help me cope… but they also make me a little… different.”

You give him a quiet nod, not sure what to say. You’ve heard whispers about Elvis’s struggles before in the newspapers and all, but you'd never imagined him admitting it in front of you like that. The vulnerability in his words catches you off guard.

“They help me,” he continues, looking away for a second, as if finding it hard to look you in the eye. “But sometimes, it’s like they turn me into someone I don’t want to be. I didn’t mean to take it out on you, though.”

You watch him carefully, the softness of his apology settling in. You want to say something comforting, but you aren’t sure how.

“It’s alright, Mr.Presley,” you finally say, your voice quiet but sincere. “I understand. Just… don’t do it when Lisa's here..”

He looks back at you, his eyes softer than before. A small, almost shy smile curves at the corner of his lips. “I promise, shuga.”

You nod as Elvis finishes speaking, his words lingering in the quiet space between you. The apology felt real, and even though it caught you off guard, you appreciated it. You watch as his posture shifts again, a bit of his usual swagger returning.

“Well, I better get goin’,” he says, his voice a little more relaxed now. “I gotta tell Priscilla we need to head out soon. Got a schedule to stick to.”

You give him a small smile and a small nod.

He gives you a quick grin before heading toward the stairs. As he walks past you, you catch a glimpse of that familiar Elvis energy—the kind that fills a room, but it’s gentler now, more thoughtful.

“Take care of yourself,” he adds, pausing just a moment at the bottom of the stairs before continuing his way up.

You stay in the kitchen, listening to his footsteps fade as he makes his way upstairs to tell Priscilla it's time to leave. You take a deep breath, feeling the quiet settle in once more. For now, things feel a little less heavy between you two.

To be continued...

Tags: @jhoneybees @pxpresley 🤍

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis photos #elvis presley x reader #elvis the king #elvis the pelvis #elvis x reader #elvis history #elvis presley x y/n #elvis aaron presley #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x you

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que3rduckling · 2 days ago

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My Pitch for Absolute Robin

For one, I think it is important for the Robin in this universe to be Dick Grayson. I have seen someone on TikTok saying it should be Stephanie Brown and while I do agree with many of the points they made and I do believe that that would make an interesting story, I believe that Dick being the first Robin and ergo Batman’s first sidekick is very important to his character. (As well as me being a huge Dick Grayson fan who would LOVE to see him in it)

I want the Absolute Robin to have the same approach to him as the other superhero’s so far, that being taking away some key aspect of the character. For Dick, I think the key aspect of his character that should be taken away is Haley’s Circus. I want this Dick to have never grown up in a Circus and never was an acrobat. Instead I want him to have been raised to something of the likes of an assassin. While I do not know if Snyder will or should introduce the Court of Owls into the current story he is telling with Absolute Batman, but I do believe that Dick should have been raised to some of the like of The Gray Son. Him being this prophesied greatest assassin, being raised so that he can full-fill this prophecy.

Dick doesn’t enjoy the life he is currently entrapped in, not wanting to hurt people but instead help them, and having a lot of built up anger due to this.

Dick should also be aged up a bit. Instead of being around 9 when he becomes Robin I want him to be around 15. Also Bruce should not be adopting Robin, more so mentoring him.

Alright let me set the scene:

Batman is messing up operations for everyone in Gotham with his arrvial so Dick, a trained and prophesied assassin, is sent out and tasked with killing him. Dick does not want to but does not have much of choice and goes out to do so. He hides in the darkness, face covered by a mask to shield his identity and age, watching Batman. He waits for the perfect moment to strike and does just so. Using his agility to his advantage and dancing around Batman, striking blows all around him. You could also say he looks like Circus performer putting on a show. At some point he slips up, misses a hit or something, and Batman gets the upper hand. He slams Dick into the ground. He’s about to hit Dick with a ruthless hit when he sees that the mask covering the boys face is cracked, and a young boys scared eyes stare at him through the crack. He stops. He stares at this kid who can be no older than 15. Dick uses this moment of pause to kick up and escape.

Later as Dick is being yelled at for not completing the mission he finally decides he’s has enough. I mean if there is a man dressed up as a bat, helping and saving people, why can’t he? If I man dressed up as a Bat is able to start taking down the organizations that have caused Dick so much pain, why can’t he?He has the skills to do it. He has the anger to do it. He has the fight in him to do it.

He escapes that night. Dick uses his pre-existing knowledge of The Bat and his detective skills to figure out where he is. He emerges from the shadows, presenting himself to Batman. No mask this time. Him and Bruce stare at each other for a moment before Dick breaks the silence. Dick says how he is fed up with the organizations that are ruining this city. He wants to take revenge against the place that took away his family, his childhood, his life. He tells The Bat that he has insider knowledge of the area, how they can help each other to take them down. Dick tells him how he will do this whether or not Batman agrees, so it would be more effective if he did. All Bruce sees is another hurt kid. A kid who lost his family to the corruptness of this city, just like he did.

This city spares no one, he knows that. But maybe he can help give this kid closure. Guidance. He’s going to help this kid. He accepts the kids offer. He set some ground rules though and Dick reluctantly agrees.

Dick knows he some sort of superhero identity. One separate from the one he has been forced to use all his life.

He decides he will be called Robin, his mother’s nickname for him and one of the last things he ever heard her say before the separated from each other by assassins. He does not know if she is alive or not but if she is he hopes she’ll hear the name and know that he is still out there. He chooses to have bright yellow, green and red on his costume because he is spent to much of his life in the shadows , hiding. He is going to be seen now. He is going to be a beacon of light in the darkness that is Gotham.

——-

That is my pitch for Absolute Robin! I left the organization that trained Dick purposely vague because I never quite decided if I would want it to be a new one or be the Court of Owls. So you guys can decided which one would be better!!

Also some ideas I have that I couldn’t quite fit into main story I was telling:

- Dick lives one of Bruce’s safe houses, but a separate one from where he lives in

- Dick is still quite acrobaty Just Never being properly trained to be a circus one

- Dick was originally from outside the states but the organization that trained him forcefully separated him from his family and brought him to the states

- He never saw his parents die and hopes they are still alive but knows deep down their not. (Bc their not)

- Mary and John used to be in Haley’s Circus but left when Mary became pregnant with Dick and decided to settle down

Hope y’all liked this!! (Sorry it was so long 😭😭)

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sinnabarmoth · 15 hours ago

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Worthy of Devotion (3/9)

Pairing: Sea God|Rafayel x Worshipper|Reader (fem)

Summary: Reader learns more about Rafayel and can't help asking some more personal questions. Meanwhile Rafayel is learning new things about human peculiarities both funny and concerning.

Content Warnings: Self worth issues caused by religious trauma.

Length: 3k

Chapters: (1) (2)

Read on AO3

~~~

The next day was more of the same. You woke up, made yourself from breakfast and started cleaning a new part of the temple. You had decided to work on the bedroom this time. The main issue was all the dust and you ended up tying a handkerchief around your face to help keep yourself from sneezing.

You had also finally entered the attached bathing room. Yesterday you had just availed yourself to the communal toilets on the main level since that was where you had spent most your day. The bathing room was in much the same state as the bedroom, covered in a fine layer of dust. The main problem was the large tub in the center of the room. In any other circumstance it would have been lovely, the large basin cut into solid marble, you could fit at least four people inside easily. But over the years a layer of moss and fungus had sprouted inside, coating the marble like a carpet. That took a lot of scraping and shoveling and scrubbing to get clean.

You were knelt in the center of the tub, trying to get the green ring stain out of the marble when Rafayel wandered in. “There you are,” he sat at the edge of the tub. “Keeping busy?”

“Someone has to repair this temple and I’m the only one here, so yes.” you wiped the sweat from your brow but only managed to smear more dirt and grime against it. “I assume you’re here to continue working on the journal?”

“Yes. But you are going to need to clean yourself up first. You’ll end up dirtying the pages with hands like that.” he picked up one of your hands and inspected the grime caked under your nails. “In fact, have you bathed at all since coming here?”

“I have rinsed…” you muttered, “But I haven’t really had the time to--”

“Up. Now.” he pulled you up and out of the tub. “You are not doing any more work until you’ve bathed. To be perfectly honest, you smell rather bad too. I let it slide yesterday because we were working but there is no excuse for this now.”

“Alright. I’ll go down to the baths--”

“What are you talking about? You just cleaned this one, use it.”

“If I use this one then I have to carry buckets of water up here to fill it. It’s just easier to go to the baths downstairs.”

Rafayel rolled his eyes and reached towards the head of the tub. There was a pipe over the basin but you saw no pump with which to call up water from. Behind the pipe was a large smooth gem that he put his hand over. He muttered something foreign to your ears and suddenly water began to fill the tub. Even more than that, steam was rising from it.

“But how--”

“A water gem.” he pointed to the gem behind the pipe. “Very rare. They provide unlimited water with the activation of certain phrases. “Calidum, for hot water. Frigus, for cold water. To get it to stop, say finis. Try it.”

You put your hand on the stone. “Frigus?”

There was a pause in the spray of water and when it returned you felt it was ice cold. You touched the stone again. “Calidum.” Another pause and hot water came out again. “Finis.” The water stopped. “Wow. Do you know how useful that would have been to know an hour ago when I was carrying buckets of water up here to scrub the floors?”

He smiled. “Well now you know. There should still be some soaps around here somewhere. Clean yourself up, I will be back.”

“Thank you.” You started the water again, going back and forth with the cold and hot to get it to a nice temperature and then sank in. When was the last time you had an honest to goodness hot bath? It was always such a hassle back home to get a hot bath all to yourself.

You let yourself relax, the feel of the hot water easing the pain in your joints and relaxing your muscles. Yes, you needed this. After a while of just soaking and enjoying the bath you picked up a rag and the soap and started cleaning yourself in earnest. You shouldn’t have been surprised by how nice the soap was but it still caught you off guard to smell something so pretty and floral. It smelled like plumerias and a whiff of coconut.

You were rinsing the suds away when the door banged open and Rafayel strode in again. You ducked under the water up to your neck, covering your body with your arms. “I’m still in here!”

“I figured you would be.” he didn’t seem perturbed by your nakedness or the clear panic you were exhibiting. “I brought fresh clothes. Those rags you’ve been wearing need a wash, if you still want to keep them that is.”

“Yes, thank you. You can leave now.” you curled into yourself, trying to hide your body more the closer he got.

“You’re awfully jumpy. What’s got into you?” he cocked an eyebrow up at you.

“I’m naked!”

“So?”

You swallowed back the urge to scream. “So I don’t want you seeing me naked. Please.”

“I assume this is one of those human peculiarities.” he shrugged. “The nude form is very natural, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You especially have a rather delectable form, from what I glanced when I came in at least.”

You were going to drown yourself in this tub. “Thanks. But I’d rather not wander around naked so freely. So can you please leave now so I can dry and dress?”

“Yes yes, I’m going.” he left the room. “We’re going to add these views on nudity to the book I hope you know. It’s ridiculous that you humans are so preoccupied with it.” He shouted from the bedroom.

“Got it.” you sighed, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes. “Gods give me strength.” you muttered.

“Strength for what?” Rafayel shouted again.

“That prayer wasn’t for you!” you snapped. So he really could here your prayers…great. You needed to be careful about what you said now.

After you had drained the tub and dried yourself off you picked up the bundle of clothes that Rafayel had left for you. It was a pair of loose pants and shirt made out of the same linens that he wore. There were little shells embroidered along the sleeves and a wave design along the thigh of the pants. They were simple working clothes, easy to move around in and lightweight.

When you left the bathing room you saw Rafayel packing more garments into the standing wardrobe. He turned back to you and smiled. “There, that looks much better.” he walked up to you and pulled you close. You froze as his face was buried in your hair. “Smell much better too. Now we can work without you smelling like dirt and sweat.”

“It wasn’t that bad!” you protested. Your resentment covered the sheer panic of his sudden embrace.

“It was. Come along, mudskipper. Time to get writing.” he pulled you to the sitting area of the bedroom.

“First I’m a grouper and now I’m a mudskipper. If you’re going to keep comparing me to fish can’t they at least be cute? Like an angelfish or even a starfish would sound nicer.”

“How about a clownfish?” he deposited you in one of the chairs.

“Do you enjoy mocking me?”

“What? Do you not think clownfish are cute?” he tossed you the book and sat down in the chair opposite you. “Now, where were we?”

You flipped open the book with a roll of your eyes. “Let me see, we had just finished discussing how the title of Sea God is passed down through generations and I have a note here about partners to the Sea God. I think we left off talking about unions and the powers that romantic partners had if any.”

“Right,” Rafayel cleared his throat, “It varies from person to person, some gods chose to have a partner with which they could entrust helping to rule over the Lemurians, in that way it was very strategic. Others were more driven by their desires and chose partners with their hearts. Sometimes partners are equal rulers with similar ruling authority, sometimes they are figure heads, but there is no set in stone responsibilities for the partner of the Sea God.”

“Interesting.” you started writing everything down. “And what about children? Is there any chance that progeny of the current Sea God may be chosen as the new god or is it entirely up to chance?”

“It is entirely up to chance. Children of current gods do not automatically inherit their parent’s title. I only know of one recorded instance in which one of the children of a past god was selected as the inheritor.”

Your pen paused. “Rafayel, do you have a partner?”

His eyes widened a fraction before he shook his head. “No. I do not.”

You didn’t know why but your heart did a pitter patter in your chest hearing that. “Then, do you plan on marrying for strategy or for love?”

“I don’t really have any plans right now.”

“Alright, let me just write that down. Current god, Rafayel, is not one to plan for the future.”

“Hey! You can’t write that down!” his face turned pink.

“I’m the one with the pen so--ah!” you held the pen back as Rafayel tried to grab it. “You’re the one who tasked me with writing this book so I get to write my findings!”

“No, you write what I tell you to write. Now give me the pen.” he made another swipe for it but you leapt out of your seat. “Are you disobeying me, clownfish?”

“Of course not. I would never dare disobey my god.” you handed the pen to him. “Here you are.”

“Thank you.”

“But I will be taking this.” you grabbed the book and took off out the door.

“Oh! I see how it is! My sweet clownfish is actually a slippery little eel!” he took off after you.

There was a part of you that screamed that you shouldn’t be doing this. Everything you had learned, everything you had been raised as told you that you shouldn’t have been disobeying and teasing your god like this. If any of the priests or priestesses could see your behavior you’d be put on floor scrubbing for a year, maybe ten. But they weren’t here. None of them had actually completed their pilgrimages. None of them had spoken to Rafayel. According to what they taught you, and according to your god, you were more worthy than any of them. No one was here to say otherwise. You could do whatever you wanted. And you felt like having a little fun, and the fact that it was at the expense of a god made it all the funnier.

You were flying down the stairs, a wide smile on your face as you ran. You could hear Rafayel gaining behind you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be caught or not.

You glanced over your shoulder to see how close he was and your foot hit a chunk of fallen ceiling. Your body pitched forward, gravity helping send you down the last couple of steps.

“Watch it!” you were caught by the waist and tugged backwards with force. You were tipping back instead and you landed with a thud on the stairs, Rafayel cushioning your fall. “Ow.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” you rolled off him. “Are you okay?”

“No. I think this is it for me. I’m weak, this is the end.” he threw an arm over his eyes. “The light shall need to choose a new Sea God now. I am to descend into the abyss. Tell my people I died heroically, saving one of my acolytes.”

You could tell he was being dramatic but you saw the way he winced as he sat up and the rock that he had landed on was painted a deep crimson at the point.

Rafayel looked at you, the humor on his face disappearing. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he waved a hand in front of your face, “Say something, you’re starting to worry me.”

“You…you’re bleeding.” you murmured, horrified that he had gotten injured saving you.

“Ah that,” he picked up the rock and tossed it away to a corner. “Don’t worry about that. I was only joking, I feel fine. A little sore between the shoulder blades but nothing to get worked up about.”

“I’m sorry.” you drew into yourself, pulling your knees close to your body. “I’m so sorry. You got hurt because of me. I’m sorry.”

“You would have gotten hurt worse if I let you fall. We really need to work on that balance of yours. You have about as much grace as a fish on a dock.” he smiled at you. When you did not return it he inched closer. He reached out as if to touch you and you flinched back. He eased away.

“You’re shaken from the fall. I get it.” he said slowly, as if trying to coax a skittish animal, “But I promise I’m fine. You don’t need to feel bad about it. Accidents happen.”

“I…I…” you glanced around and saw the book splayed out at the bottom of the stairs. You stood up, ignoring the pain in your foot as you hobbled down and recollected it. “I need to go.” You set the book on the bottom step and limped out of the temple.

“Where are you going?” Rafayel raced after you. “Your foot is scraped, if you get sand in it it will only make it worse.”

You ignored him, your body taking you down the steps and onto the beach. You kept going until you got the shore where the ocean lapped at the sand. You waded into the water up to your knees. The salt burned against your wound but you didn’t retreat, the pain helped to ground you. Staring straight ahead your vision tunneled as it tried in vain to see past the horizon line.

You hurt your god. Actually hurt him. And for what? Because you wanted to tease him a little? What right did you have? Was this a divine punishment? Fate reminding you of your place? A mortal poking fun at a deity like he was an old friend. No. There were lines for a reason. You couldn’t cross them. No one was ever meant to cross them.

“Come back inside,” you heard Rafayel’s voice behind you. “Your foot needs tending.”

“I shouldn’t be in there. I don’t belong in that temple or on this island. I’m not worthy. I need to leave. I need to--”

“By the tides, not this again.” Rafayel groaned and with an ease that surprised you he hefted you out of the water and started carrying you back to the temple. “Here I thought you were finally done with all that aggrandizing. One little tumble down some stairs and suddenly you think you need to throw yourself into the ocean. Those charlatans on the mainland really messed with your self worth in the name of worshiping me, didn’t they?”

“What--what are you--” you stammered as he marched you back into the temple. “Please! Put me down. I don’t--I can’t--”

“Shush.” he brought you into the kitchen and set you down on the table. “Stay there.”

“But--”

“Stay.” he pointed and left out the back door. He came back with a bucket of water and grabbed a clean rag out of one of the drawers. Dunking it into the water he grabbed your injured foot and started dabbing away at the blood and sand. “And here the day was going so well. I finally got you to take a bath, we were having a nice chat, then we took that little tumble and it was like it reset you. You had better not start calling me Your Radiance again, I swear.”

“I shouldn’t have ran though. It’s not my place. I shouldn’t have done it and then you wouldn’t have had to help me and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt and--” you went silent as he glanced up at you, that spark of blue flame alighting his eyes once more.

“Did I not say yesterday that you are allowed to feel whatever you please in regards to me? You can feel guilty if you wish but your guilt doesn’t get to erase the fact that you also feel comfortable with me. I like that you play. I don’t want you to stop on account of this one accident.” He patted your wound dry and tore a strip of fabric off of his sarong, wrapping it around your foot. “Understood? Don’t make me have to make it an order because that will go against everything I am trying to accomplish here.”

“What is it you want to accomplish?” you asked.

“I want to create followers that want to follow me out of devotion, not fear. If I can’t get you to not fear me, then what hope is there for the others?” he handed you the wet rag. “I know I can’t undo everything you learned, especially not in a day. But we are not going to spend this time with you too scared to say anything out of turn or show any displeasure. I may be your god but I do not control you. Do you understand?”

You nodded.

“No. Say it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?”

You took a deep breath. “I understand what you want from me.”

“Which is?”

“To be devoted to you out of desire, not obligation or fear.”

“Good.” he turned around and you could see the wound in his back where the rock stabbed him. “Now, could you be so kind as to help clean this for me?”

“Yes. Of course.” You wiped at the blood trickling down his spin and pressed the rag over the cut to staunch the bleeding.

“Rafayel?” your voice felt as if it was a thousand miles away from your body.

“Yes?”

“You talk of being a god worthy of devotion, but do you not have any requisites of your followers? Is there nothing to make us worthy of your blessings outside of wanting to worship you? It seems unfair that you hold yourself to such a high degree but not us.”

“You wish to know what I think makes my followers worthy of my blessings and spared of my wrath?” he thought for a moment. “They have to be kind and honest. They cannot spread fear in hopes that it will gain me more followers or larger offerings. To be worthy, their actions and words must come from their souls. A sand dollar offered by a child that believes in me out of trust is worth more than all the gold shoveled onto a dais by fearful priests. Chasing you through the halls as you try to play keep away with me is more precious to me than this self loathing you carry about inadvertently causing me injury.”

“I understand.” A smile started to creep its way back onto your face. “I like this version of you far better than the one I learned about on the mainland.”

“Nice to hear it.” he glanced over his shoulder. “Almost done back there?”

“Oh right.” you had forgotten what you were doing for a moment. You removed the rag from his back. You were shocked to see that the wound had completely disappeared, gone as if it never existed, save for a small pink spot between his shoulder blades. “What…how did that happen?”

“I’m God of the Seas, water is a natural healer to me, be it fresh or salt.” he rolled his shoulders, the muscles in his back flexing as he did. “Now, how about we do something relaxing for the rest of the day? No cleaning, no writing, something simple.”

“Like what?”

“Want to learn how to play a Lemurian board game?”

“Sure.”

“Alright,” he glanced around the room. “Right, I need to go get one. Stay here, don’t go tripping over anything else, I will be right back.”

He left to dive back into the sea while you stayed sat on the kitchen table. You picked your foot up, inspecting the makeshift bandage over your foot. He could have gone and found actual bandages but he tore off part of his clothes just to dress your wound. Either he thought very highly of your foot or very little of his clothes. You ran a finger over the gold embroidery, contemplating.

It would take him some time to return so you carefully stood up and limped back out to the staircase. The book was still resting on the top step along with the pen that Rafayel had dropped. You picked up both and cracked open the book, penning a new note near the back.

“The god Rafayel wants more than anything for his followers to follow him out of love rather than fear. I think this shows more than anything that he cares for us more than the priests of old would have had us believe. He is a kind god,” you bit back a mischievous smile, “and he likes it when you tease him, so if you are reading this you should do it a lot. He really does like it. Just be ready for him to tease you right back.”

#love and deepspace #lads rafayel #lads mc #rafayel x mc #rafayel x reader #sea god rafayel #lads sea god au

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msriri030 · 19 hours ago

Text

Save By Hare Pt 3: Mine to Hold

Mobster!Konig x Docter!Reader

Sorry for the long post

That night, sleep was elusive. You tossed and turned, your mind racing with thoughts of what to wear, how to style your hair, and what to say after dinner. The anticipation made your cheeks flush, and you buried your face in your pillow, hoping to quiet your racing thoughts. Eventually, exhaustion overtook you, and you drifted off to sleep, but the flutter of nerves lingered even in slumber.

Meanwhile, in another room, Roche took a bite of his candy bar, focused on repairing his gear from the latest mission. The operation had involved a dangerous covert surveillance of a drug deal orchestrated by KorTac, a rival gang. The silence of the room was broken only by his quiet muttering as he worked, until he finally spoke, his voice casual, though his mind was elsewhere.

"I'm pretty sure she's asleep by now," Roche said, his tone unfazed.

Across from him, Soap sat fidgeting, his leg bouncing restlessly. His eyes flicked repeatedly to his phone, which remained stubbornly blank. He sighed heavily, the frustration evident in his voice. "Maybe you're right... but why König? I just—"

Before he could finish his thought, Roche choked on his candy bar, coughing violently. Soap immediately jumped to his feet, his concern evident.

"You alright?" Soap asked, his voice tinged with alarm.

Roche waved him off, clearing his throat, his eyes widening as he processed what Soap had just said. "König? KorTac's König? Why didn’t I know about this? You need to tell her! If Don Shepherd finds out—"

"He won’t," Soap cut in quickly, leaning back in his chair, his tone firm but edged with frustration. "Ghost and I decided not to tell her. It could put her in even more danger if we push her to reject him. Besides... who are we to make that decision for her?"

Roche raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the guys who want to turn a twosome into a threesome?"

Soap’s face turned bright red. He glared at Roche, but the man only grinned wider.

"What?" Roche teased, clearly enjoying the discomfort. "Your relationship isn’t exactly a secret, you know. You two aren’t exactly quiet during your ‘sleepovers.’"

Soap looked away, his ears burning. "We don’t... it’s not like that," he muttered, his voice softening as he avoided eye contact. "It’s more like... she’s a sister—the kind you’d do anything to protect."

Roche’s teasing expression softened, though his smirk remained. He decided to drop the subject, sensing Soap’s discomfort. Roche turned his attention back to his equipment, but Soap’s curiosity got the best of him.

"What about you?" Soap asked, his tone casual but the question clearly catching Roche off guard. "Do you... love someone?"

Roche paused, his hands stilling over his gear. A faint blush crept up his neck as he avoided Soap's gaze. After a moment, he sighed, setting the piece of equipment aside.

"Yeah," Roche admitted quietly, his voice low. "I love some people, but I don’t think they’ve noticed. So... I'll just leave it alone."

Soap nodded, understanding the sentiment but unsure how to respond. Roche cleared his throat, shifting the subject back to more pressing matters.

"Anyway," Roche said, his voice more focused. "What do you think about Don Shepherd? Ghost still thinks he's up to something big."

Soap’s expression darkened as he glanced at his phone one last time, then leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

"Yeah," he said finally. "We all do."

It was finally time. You stood there, your heart fluttering in your chest as the anticipation of the evening settled over you. You paced the room, each step heavy with excitement and nerves. The soft click of your shoes on the floor was the only sound breaking the silence as you adjusted your clothes for the hundredth time, striving to get everything just right—the perfect fit, the perfect look.

What would you say? Would everything go as planned, or would it be awkward? The uncertainty gnawed at you, but there was no turning back now.

You ran your fingers through your hair, once again contemplating how to style it. The evening was important, and you wanted to feel ready, to look your best. You glanced at the clock—time was running out.

Catching your reflection in the mirror, you took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind. There were so many things you wanted to say, so much you hoped would happen, but it all seemed too overwhelming at once.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and you froze.

Your heart skipped a beat. Was it him? Was it time?

You quickly made your way to the door, every step deliberate, every breath sharp with anticipation. When you opened it, you were met with a smile—a warm, familiar face..

There König, the mafia boss with a reputation that spanned the city’s darkest corners and its highest towers, stood at the door. His presence commanded attention without a single word spoken.

He wore a deep navy suit—almost black in its richness—crafted from a luxurious wool and silk blend. The suit’s understated elegance spoke of power, the kind only those who truly understood wealth could appreciate. It fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and strong frame. His trousers were sharply cut, breaking just above polished black shoes. The jacket was impeccably tailored, the lapels wide but not exaggerated. Satin accents caught the light as he moved, adding a quiet sheen to his commanding presence. His tie, a dark navy silk, was simple yet perfectly tied, and his crisp white shirt stood out sharply against the dark suit.

For a moment, you wondered if you were underdressed. But as your gaze met his, everything else faded into the background.

König, still wearing his signature mask, reached out and presented you with a bouquet—a stunning mix of red roses, lilies, baby’s breath, sunflowers, and delicate filler greens. The bouquet was as carefully curated as his entire appearance—elegant, bold, and striking.

“Guten Abend, Hase." I hope you like the flowers I picked out,” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you as you took the bouquet. The vibrant colors and delicate petals were perfect, and it made your heart flutter. You brought the flowers to your nose, inhaling their sweet scent.

“They’re beautiful,” you replied, your voice soft but filled with appreciation. “Thank you, König.”

As you stepped aside to let him in, your heart raced. His presence was overwhelming, but in a way that made you feel safe, protected. The evening was just beginning, and you had no idea what it would bring, but for the first time in a long while, you felt certain that whatever happened next, you were ready.

You held König’s hand as he drove you to Diamond Petals, a high-end restaurant nestled on the outskirts of the wealthy part of town. The drive felt surreal, with every turn and mile heightening your anticipation. As the car approached the restaurant, your breath caught in your throat. The place was more breathtaking than you had imagined.

Floral plants cascaded over the exterior, their vibrant colors glowing against the soft, ambient lighting. The building itself was a masterpiece, the marble and stone walls catching the light in a way that made the entire place seem otherworldly. It felt as though you were about to step into a dream, where beauty and elegance existed at every corner.

The soft hum of music could be heard from inside, and as you entered, the first thing that struck you was the dance floor at the center of the space. The floor was polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflecting the twinkling lights above. It was the perfect setting for an evening filled with romance and charm.

As König pulled the car to a stop, he turned to you with a warm, almost teasing smile. “Ready, Liebling?”

You nodded, feeling a flutter in your chest, and took a deep breath before stepping out of the car. Together, you walked toward the entrance, where the scent of fresh flowers mixed with the soft notes of the music from within. It was a perfect evening in the making

The moment you moved toward the entrance, you couldn’t help but notice the eyes of the crowd. Whispers and curious glances followed you, some filled with intrigue, others tinged with disdain. The people around you were all too aware of König's rare presence, and perhaps even more curious about the person accompanying him tonight.

You blushed, instinctively shrinking into the shadow of König’s towering figure. His presence was enough to shield you, but you could feel the weight of the stares, the curiosity of those around you. It was clear that König was a figure few dared to approach, yet here he was, walking confidently at your side, unbothered by the attention.

The whispers quieted when König shot a cold, sharp glare in their direction. He leaned in close, his voice a soft murmur that only you could hear, “Don’t worry, Hase. They’re just jealous of me having someone so lovely by my side.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and the weight of the stares seemed to fade. His reassurance was enough to ease your nerves, and you stood taller, walking with him toward your table. The faint buzz of murmurs continued behind you, but all that mattered in that moment was the quiet strength and assurance that König exuded, and the way he made you feel—protected, cherished, and entirely his.

When you reached the table, König gently pulled out the chair for you, his actions so graceful and deliberate that you couldn’t help but feel like you were the only person in the room. His care and attention were impossible to ignore.

“Thank you, König,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “This is lovely.”

He gave you a small, satisfied smile, his eyes softening as he sat across from you. “Anything for you, Hase. That being said, order whatever you’d like. It’s on me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, the warmth in his words making your heart flutter. Just as the moment settled, a waiter approached, ready to take your orders. You looked up, meeting König’s gaze before turning to the menu.

“I think I’ll have the steak,” you said, smiling as you felt a rush of excitement at being treated so thoughtfully.

König raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “And what else, Hase? Do you want anything sweet… like you afterwards?”

You burned red at the comment, pausing for a moment before you added, “Maybe the chocolate mousse for dessert?”

The waiter jotted down your choices before turning to König, whose deep, steady voice carried authority as he placed his order. With a courteous nod, the waiter excused himself, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet intimacy of your table.

“You’re spoiling me,” you said, your lips curving into a playful smile. “You don’t have to do that.”

König leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you, warm and unyielding. “But I want to,” he said simply, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “I want this night to be perfect for you, Liebling. Because I hope you’ll enjoy having me around… next time, and the time after that.”

He leaned forward, resting his large hand gently over yours. The warmth of his touch made your heart race. His eyes flickered with a nervous energy, his thumb brushing softly against the top of your hand in a calming rhythm, though you suspected it was more for him than for you.

“You know,” he began, his voice low and unusually vulnerable, “I was terrified when I decided to pursue you. You’re… an angel compared to me.”

You tilted your head slightly, surprise evident in your expression. “What do you mean?”

A soft chuckle escaped him, though his eyes held a shadow of seriousness. “You know what I am, Hase. A mobster.” His gaze dropped momentarily to the table, his jaw tightening. “Perhaps more of a monster than a mobster.” He exhaled heavily, then looked up at you again, his gaze searching. “But I couldn’t stop myself. I hope you’ll still want this, want me, even knowing the dangers that come with it.”

He broke eye contact again, his gaze falling to where his hand rested over yours, as if bracing himself for rejection. The vulnerability in his voice tugged at your heart. For a man so strong and imposing, seeing him wrestle with his own insecurities was almost overwhelming.

“König…” you said softly, reaching across the table to cup his cheek, gently guiding his gaze back to yours. “Regardless of the danger, I want this. I want us, because I feel the same way.” You smiled tenderly, your voice steady with conviction. “I love you, König. These feelings… they consume me. You’ve given me a place to feel safe and loved like no one else ever has.”

For a moment, he simply stared at you, as though trying to process your words. Then, slowly, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and his eyes shone with an emotion so raw it made your chest tighten.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” he murmured, his voice thick with relief. He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing against your skin. “But I’m so glad I did.”

Before he could say anything more, a voice sliced through the air like a blade—smooth, deliberate, and unwelcome.

“Don König, I didn’t know you had such a beautiful woman at your side.”

König’s warmth disappeared in an instant, replaced by a cold, sharp edge. His eyes, once alive with affection, turned icy and detached. He knew that voice.

Don Shepard.

König’s jaw clenched as he slowly stood, his imposing frame radiating a quiet threat. Despite his clear disdain, he forced a tight, polite smile, walking toward the older man with a calculated ease that spoke of years of practice in dealing with people like him.

“Don Shepard,” König said, his tone measured but laced with an unmistakable tension. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

The older man’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the discomfort he had stirred. “Ah, I have a knack for being where I’m least expected,” Shepard quipped, his gaze shifting briefly to you. His eyes lingered just a second too long before König subtly shifted to block his view, his posture protective. “But I must say, König, you’ve outdone yourself. A woman like her? Quite the catch.”

König’s expression remained calm, but the subtle tension in his shoulders betrayed his irritation. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business, Shepard,” he said evenly. “Now, if you’ll excuse us…”

But Don Shepard wasn’t one to back down so easily. He leaned in slightly, his voice dripping with mock concern. “Oh, but it is my business. You’re playing in dangerous waters, König, bringing someone like her into our world.”

König’s smile was razor-thin, his patience clearly wearing thin. “I’m sure I don’t need you to remind me of the risks,” he replied, his voice sharp with finality. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have dinner to enjoy.”

There was a moment of unspoken tension, a silent battle of wills, before Shepard finally raised his hands in mock surrender. “Of course, of course,” he said, his tone light but his eyes glinting with something darker. “Just don’t forget, König—our world doesn’t forgive mistakes.”

König barely acknowledged the veiled threat, giving Shepard a curt nod before turning his back on him and returning to you.

As he sat down, his features softened once again, though a trace of tension lingered in his jaw. “I’m sorry about that,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with frustration. “He’s… difficult.”

You reached for his hand, your touch grounding him. “It’s okay,” you said, your voice gentle but firm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

König’s gaze softened at your words, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Good,” he murmured, his tone resolute. “Because I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

König’s words hung in the air, a quiet promise wrapped in steel. His hand over yours was firm, steadying you in the aftermath of the brief but tense exchange. His gaze softened, a stark contrast to the cold, commanding presence he had wielded just moments ago with Don Shepard.

You smiled at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I know,” you said softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I trust you, König.”

His expression shifted, relief flickering in his eyes as his thumb traced slow circles over your knuckles. “You mean more to me than you’ll ever know, Liebling,” he murmured. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

After the warm moment, the waiter arrived quietly, placing your dishes in front of you with practiced precision before retreating with a polite nod. The aroma of your steak and König’s carefully chosen entrée filled the space between you, but neither of you moved to eat right away.

König cleared his throat, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Well,” he said, leaning back slightly, “I hope the food tastes as good as this evening feels.”

You chuckled softly, picking up your fork. “If it’s half as good as your company, I think we’re in for a treat.”

König chuckled too, the low rumble of his laugh warming you from the inside out. It was rare to see him so relaxed, so at ease.

As you both began to eat, the tension from Don Shepard’s interruption faded, replaced by lighthearted conversation. König told you small, guarded anecdotes about his life—safe stories that made you laugh or widened your eyes in fascination. In return, you shared moments from your own life, noticing the way he listened so intently, as if every word you said mattered.

The dinner unfolded like a dream, a blend of laughter, stolen glances, and the occasional touch of his hand brushing against yours. For the first time in what felt like forever, König allowed himself to hope—for a future, for something brighter, for you.

And as the evening progressed, you realized you weren’t just sitting across from a mobster or even the enigmatic König. You were sitting across from the man who had stolen your heart, and for the first time, you felt certain that you’d found something rare and unbreakable.

However there was someone watching beside Don Sherpard from the corner of his eye, Ghost sat down next to Consigliere Price while listening to Don's ideas. He was feared when the Don spoked to König, all he wanted was to keep you safe but it was too late.

“Ghost? What do you think about capturing the west harbors?” Price asked him to clear his throat as the Don noticed where he was glimpsing at. He smirked devilishly with a plan in his head.

However, there was someone else watching the interaction from the shadows—beside Don Shepard, seated at a nearby table, was Ghost. Silent and observant, he sat next to Consigliere Price, his imposing figure blending into the dimly lit ambiance of the restaurant. While Price listened intently to Don Shepard's ideas, Ghost's attention was elsewhere. His sharp eyes flicked toward König, and then to you.

He felt a pit of unease settle in his stomach when Don Shepard engaged König. He knew the man’s reputation all too well. Whatever Shepard was planning, it was never good. Ghost clenched his jaw, his instincts screaming to act, but he knew it was already too late to intervene.

“Ghost?” Price’s gruff voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present. “What’s your take on securing the west harbors? Think it’s worth the resources?”

Ghost cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. “It’s a strong move,” he replied curtly, though his gaze flicked back toward König and Don Shepard for a brief second.

Price noticed, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing.

Don Shepard, however, caught the brief glimpse and smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes as if a new idea had just sparked in his mind. Whatever he had planned, it was clear that König—and now you—were a piece of his next move.

“She’s pretty—like an angel out of heaven, isn’t she?” Don Shepard’s voice dripped with venomous sweetness as he leaned slightly toward Ghost. His cold gaze locked onto Ghost’s eyes, sharp and unyielding, like a predator cornering its prey. “It would be... horrible... don’t you think? If someone were to use her as bait. Especially if it was someone she trusted. Imagine her being sent back to heaven earlier than expected…” He let the words hang in the air, his lips curling into a sinister smile. “Why don’t you go ask her for a dance?”

Ghost’s jaw tightened, his hand curling into a fist under the table as rage burned through him. His usual mask of stoicism wavered, a flicker of helplessness crossing his features. He hated how powerless he felt at that moment. To disobey Don Shepard was to invite chaos and bloodshed—not just for himself, but for those he cared about. Soap, Roach, and now you—all of you were in more danger than ever before.

Before Ghost could respond, Price interjected, his voice firm and composed, though there was an edge of warning in his tone. “Don, we shouldn’t involve the innocent. That woman has saved countless men, multiple times. She’s earned her place and respect.”

Don hummed, leaning back in his chair as if Price’s words were nothing more than idle noise. He stroked his chin thoughtfully before chuckling darkly. “I suppose... heaven can wait, then. For now. But the devil,” he said, his eyes narrowing as they flicked toward König, “still needs to be put in his place.”

Ghost’s grip on the edge of the table tightened. He didn’t flinch under Don’s gaze, but his blood ran cold. The implications of Shepard’s words were clear. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

The Don’s smile returned, almost cheerful now, as if the prior tension hadn’t happened. “Forget the dance, Ghost,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “Let’s enjoy the night, hmm? And refocus on what matters—expanding your ‘supple’ house.”

Ghost gave a curt nod, his body still rigid with suppressed frustration. But his mind was already working. He would find a way to keep you safe, even if it meant going against Shepard in the shadows. He glanced briefly at Price, who gave him a subtle, knowing look.

The night had taken a darker turn, and the unspoken tension lingered in the air like a storm cloud. Whatever game Don Shepard was playing, Ghost knew one thing for certain—he needed to stay one step ahead if he was going to protect everyone who mattered to him.

König held the door open for you as you stepped out of the restaurant. The cool night air greeted you, carrying the faint hum of music and chatter from inside. You had hoped to dance with him on the floor earlier, to share an intimate moment swaying together under the soft glow of the chandeliers. But as the crowd thickened, you noticed how König’s posture stiffened, his shoulders tense despite his calm demeanor.

Though he insisted he was fine, you could see the flicker of anxiety in his eyes, subtle but unmistakable. It was enough for you to decide—leaving was the better choice. You didn’t want him to endure any more discomfort, not when tonight was meant to be perfect for both of you.

As you waited by the curb, Vault, König’s trusted driver, brought his car to the front. König moved with his usual grace, opening the passenger door for you. His towering frame shielded you from the outside noise as he gently motioned for you to step in.

Once you were settled into the seat, König closed the door with care, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as though he wanted to be certain you were comfortable. The way his gaze softened before he stepped away made your heart flutter. Without a word, he circled to the driver’s side, his movements calm and deliberate, though you could sense the tension lingering beneath his composed exterior.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, König exhaled a deep sigh, his hands gripping the wheel for a moment before he turned to you. “Thank you, Hase… I know you wanted to dance, and I’m sorry we weren’t able to.” His voice was low, edged with guilt.

You reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his arm, offering him a gentle smile. “It’s okay, love. I understand.”

At your words, König froze, his hands momentarily still on the wheel as his eyes widened. His reaction caught you off guard.

“König? What is it?” you asked softly, tilting your head to study him.

He blushed fiercely, the tips of his ears turning pink as he glanced away, unable to meet your gaze. “N-nothing,” he stammered, gripping the wheel again as he started the car. “I wasn’t expecting… that you’d call me ‘love.’”

A shy smile tugged at your lips as his voice trailed off. You could see how much the small term of endearment had affected him, and it warmed your heart.

Clearing his throat, he added hesitantly, “If… if you’re okay with it, I want to take you somewhere special to me. Somewhere we can be alone.”

Your smile widened, and you leaned back in your seat, your heart already full from his sincerity. “Sure, love,” you replied, the term slipping from your lips as naturally as breathing.

He glanced at you briefly, his blush deepening, but the way his lips curled into a small, bashful smile told you how much the word meant to him. The rest of the drive was silent, filled only with the soft hum of the engine and the quiet excitement that lingered between you both. Thought raced

When you arrived at your destination, you were greeted by a breathtaking sight—a sprawling sea of shimmering city lights stretching across the horizon, their vibrant colors twinkling against the stark contrast of the pristine white snow that blanketed the landscape.

You stepped out of the car, the crisp night air biting gently at your skin as you gazed in awe. The view was mesmerizing, almost surreal, like a painting brought to life. You’d never been this far from the city before, and seeing it from such a distance, framed by the quiet beauty of nature, left you speechless.

“König…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned to him.

He stood by the car, watching your reaction with quiet satisfaction, his tall frame silhouetted by the faint glow of the distant cityscape. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said softly, his voice warm and steady.

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene. “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s… magical.”

König took a step closer, his presence grounding you amidst the overwhelming beauty of the view. “I used to come here when I needed to think or be alone,” he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “But tonight, I wanted to share it with you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s perfect.”

König’s lips curved into a soft smile as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. His gaze was tender, filled with an affection that seemed to melt the chilly air around you. “You make it perfect, Liebling,” he murmured, his deep voice carrying the warmth of his feelings.

Without another word, he shifted closer, his large hands carefully guiding you. One arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you gently into him, while he placed your hand on his broad shoulder, keeping the other clasped in his own. He began to hum a low, soothing tune as he swayed with you, his movements slow and unhurried.

You let out a soft giggle, your cheeks warming as you looked up at him. His towering frame felt safe and steady, his hum vibrating through your chest like a comforting lullaby. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you beneath the vast expanse of the stars.

Feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your cheek, you leaned into him, resting your head on his chest. His scent—clean and woodsy, with a hint of something uniquely him—surrounded you, grounding you in the moment.

König’s hum deepened, the melody matching the quiet intimacy of the moment. He tilted his head slightly, resting his chin against the top of your head. “I could stay like this forever,” he whispered softly, his voice a low rumble that you felt more than heard.

You smiled, your eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself sink into the comfort of his embrace. “Me too,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of the wind and his gentle hum.

In that moment, there was no danger, no worries—only the two of you, swaying together beneath the stars in a dance that felt as though it was meant to last forever. But then, a selfish thought slipped into your mind, one you couldn’t ignore.

“König,” you began softly, your voice hesitant as your fingers tightened slightly around him. “Can I ask you something… something kinda selfish?”

He tilted his head, curiosity lighting his eyes as he gazed down at you. A small chuckle escaped his lips. “When have you ever been selfish, Liebling? Go on, ask me.”

You hesitated, biting your lip, before finally speaking, your tone serious. “I… I want to see your face.” You paused, feeling suddenly shy under his intense gaze. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just— Forget it. I’m being stupid.”

König stilled for a moment, his large hand cupping your cheek as he gently tilted your face up to meet his. His expression softened, a tender warmth in his eyes as he whispered, “You’re not stupid.”

His thumb brushed across your cheek as he let out a soft sigh. “I understand why you’d want to know what your partner looks like… You deserve that much.” He rested his forehead against yours, his voice low and intimate as he added, “Let’s go to the car. I’ll show you there.”

Your breath hitched at his words, your heart fluttering as he gently took your hand and guided you toward the vehicle, an unspoken promise lingering in the air between you.

As you slid into the back seat, König carefully closed the door behind him, his sharp eyes darting around to ensure no one was watching. The air between you felt thick with anticipation, your heartbeat thrumming in your chest. You sat patiently, nervously toying with the ends of your hair, the gesture doing little to calm the fluttering in your stomach.

Your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink when König gently lifted you onto his lap, settling you so you were facing him. His massive hands, warm and reassuring, gripped your hips as his forehead rested lightly against yours. The steady rise and fall of his chest brushed against yours, grounding you in the intimacy of the moment.

His eyes, deep and piercing, locked onto yours, scanning your face with a quiet reverence. His arms wrapped securely around you, his thumbs tracing slow, nervous circles along your sides.

“König?” you whispered, your voice soft and filled with concern. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to—”

“I’m fine,” he interrupted gently, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a quiver of vulnerability in his tone as he continued, “I’m just... nervous. Nervous about how you’ll react to my face, Hase.” The rare fragility in his voice tugged at your heart.

You smiled warmly, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you cupped his face, your fingers grazing the fabric of his mask. “König,” you began, your voice tender but firm, “I would love you no matter what you look like. The man I fell for isn’t just a face. He’s the one who holds me like I’m made of glass, even though I’m not. He’s the one who protects me, who cares for me so deeply it leaves me breathless.”

Your thumb brushed lightly over his masked cheek as you asked softly, “Ready?”

A beat of silence passed, and then he nodded, his lips curving into the faintest smile. “Yes, Hase,” he murmured. “Only for you.”

As you slid his mask off with trembling fingers, your movements slow and deliberate, you gave König every chance to stop you. But he didn’t. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on yours, steady yet vulnerable, as if baring his soul alongside his face.

When the fabric slipped away, your breath hitched. Your eyes widened, taking in the striking details of the man before you. His chiseled features, framed by a rugged jawline, were marred only by scars that seemed to tell stories of strength and survival. You found yourself captivated by his piercing blue eyes, which studied your reaction with a mix of apprehension and hope.

Your hand instinctively reached up, tracing the faint scar along his cheek with delicate fingers, marveling at the softness of his skin. He didn’t flinch; instead, his eyes softened under your touch. Your thumb moved to the prominent scar running across the bridge of his nose, your heart aching as you wondered what battles had left their mark on him. Finally, your hand rested on the small scar that kissed the corner of his lips.

Without thinking, you brushed your thumb gently against the edge of his lips before leaning in, your lips grazing his in a featherlight kiss. It was tender, almost shy, as if you were both learning to navigate this uncharted intimacy together.

König let out a low, rumbling chuckle, his hands exploring your clothed waist and back, his touch warm and deliberate. You let out a soft moan against his lips from his warm touch. But as much as he didn’t want to lose himself in the moment, he knew his restraint was hanging by a thread.

“Hase,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “Ich liebe dich.” He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Ich will dich.”

The heat in his voice sent shivers down your spine, your attention fully claimed by the man holding you as if he couldn’t bear to let go. Your breaths grew heavier, your chest rising and falling in rhythm with his as the air between you seemed to thrum with a charged intensity. The world outside the car melted away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate, all-consuming moment.

Leaning in closer, you whispered into his ear, your voice soft but laced with desire, “Ich will dich, mein Bärchen… Küss mich.”

The words sent a visible shudder through König’s massive frame. His hands gripped your hips a little tighter, his eyes darkening as he gazed at you, captivated. For a moment, he didn’t move, as if savoring the moment and letting your words settle deep into his soul. Then, with a growl low in his throat, he leaned forward, capturing your lips with his own.

The kiss was fiery, passionate, and all-encompassing, his lips moving against yours with both hunger and reverence. His hand slid up your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The distant glow of the city lights painted the car’s interior in faint hues, casting the scene in a romantic glow as the two of you surrendered to the moment.

König’s kisses grew deeper, more desperate, as if he was pouring every ounce of his love and desire into them. His hands explored the curves of your body with a gentle yet possessive touch, making you feel like you were the center of his universe.

“Mein Hase,” he murmured against your lips between kisses, his voice thick with emotion and want. “You’re mine. Only mine.”

The night stretched on, the cool glass of the car windows fogging up from the heat radiating between you. In that moment, nothing else mattered—only König, only you, and the unspoken promise of a love that would burn brighter than any star in the night sky.

Part 1: Save by a Hare

Part 2: The Love Doctor

28 notes · View notes

maddy-k-reads-all-day · 2 days ago

Text

Let’s Go Stargazing!

Previous Tape:

Sophie just left. Nothing else to do tonight then to just watch this tape. Riley shrugs. They place the tape into the VCR. The tape begins to play, whereas Riley discovers it is nighttime as it is in the real world. Amanda and Wooly are wearing jackets, hats, and mittens, shivering in the cold. Amanda has a map and flashlight. And… a ski-mask on her face.

“Ama-Amanda… wh-why are we here in this co-cold?” Wooly sputters, shaking like a newborn fawn.

“I told you Wooly, we’re stargazing.” Amanda announces, pulling off her ski mask.

“I do no-not understand why that means we have to suffer like th-this.”

“Don’t you get it Wooly? Winter is the best time of year to see the stars!”

“I’m not even sure the temperature is above 0 today Amanda…” Wooly cries.

“Wait… Riley…?” Amanda finally notices.

“Why are you still here?” Wooly gasps.

“Sophie decided to go inst-” “Uuuuuggggghhh… just when I thought things couldn’t get any wo- OW!” Amanda stomped on his foot. Why does this sheep hate me so much? Riley wonders.

“Don’t you get it! This is perfect! It’ll be a fun adventure just like old times!” Amanda beams.

“Why can’t you enjoy your perfect adventure without me?” Wooly scoffs. Amanda looks a bit sad at this.

“Wooly… I thought you liked playing with me…” now Wooly looks sad.

“No! I do! I just… didn’t want to do this… like… in general… I could think of several things I’d rather be do- oh alright…” Wooly sighs.

“Yay!” Amanda smiles, “It was really hard to get Wooly to come outside with me today. He was clinging to the door frame for dear life like a cat trying to avoid a bath!”

“A clear indicator that I did not want to go outsid-mmpth-” Amanda shoves a snowball in his mouth. He immediately spits it out.

“You said you’d go stargazing with me!”

“Not in like -30 degree weather!” Wooly protests.

“Shhhh! We’re almost there.” Amanda whispers. They enter a huge clearing in the park. Amanda looks mesmerized. Wooly looks disappointed.

“That's… it?”

“Huh?” “That’s it? The sky?”

“I mean… yeah we’re stargazing.” Amanda says, “I think the view is best riiiight in the middle of the park. Can you tell me where that is?” she asks. Riley clicks on the right side of the park. “Riley…” Amanda sighs. Riley clicks on the center. “Can you help me lay out the blanket?” Riley clicks on the blanket and Amanda lays it out. She smiles at us. “We could’ve done this from the backyard!”

“But that’s not so special, now is it?” Amanda says, laying down on the blanket. “I am freezing my butt off! WHOA!” Amanda tugs him down so he’s laying on the blanket beside her. She gently tips his head up to the sky. Wooly stops. “We’re… surrounded by stars….”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Amanda sighs, happily.

“I don’t know… it looks so… fake…” Wooly admits. Amanda looks irritated.

“Don’t say that!” she hisses, before taking a deep breath, “I come here all the time when I can’t sleep. It’s my favorite spot in this whole world.” Wooly now looks like he feels bad about what he said before. Oof… Wooly should not have talked crap about this adventure… Riley thinks.

“You shouldn’t go outside at night by yourself.” Wooly warns. Amanda remains silent. “It’s dangerous!”

“I’m glad you’re friends again Wooly…” Amanda replies. “This is perfect… getting to share my favorite spot in the world with two of my favorite people in the world.” Amanda stop it. I don't think Wooly’s heart can take any more guilt… Riley thinks.

“I’m… one of your favorite people in the world?” Wooly asks in shock, sitting up.

“Well duh, you’re my best friend, right Wooly?” Amanda grins. Wooly looks… conflicted.

“This feels… fake.”

“Huh?”

“Just a little while ago… you literally killed me… You made it so clear that you hated me… now I just don’t get it… I just… don’t understand…” “Wooly…” Amanda pauses and thinks for a bit… “Honestly… I guess… maybe it started when you freaked out at me when you were sick- when I realized… I might’ve scarred you just as bad as Hameln did… I felt really bad. And then… you apologized for everything… and then I saw you having a really rough time when you started to really get back your memories…”

“So what? You only cared after you messed me up as much as you-” “Wooly. When I got my memories back I had a rough time and you didn’t do anything at all… in fact you made it worse… you kept trying to return things to a status quo I knew was wrong… to a me I knew I wasn’t…” Amanda explains, “And now I understand that it was because it upset you… but back then… I felt… so betrayed Wooly… Honestly, at first when you nearly killed Riley I was just trying to keep you calm… from doing that again…”

“To be fair, I was trying to do the same with you…”

“I get it now… I get everything… and this tiny world suddenly feels much bigger and scarier than before… I get it Wooly… and the more I understood the more I realized you were just like me…”

“So that’s why you wanted to go back to being friends?”

“We never went back to being friends, Wooly. We never were friends before… not really. I mean… we didn’t even know each other. Amanda and Wooly were friends… not Rebecca and William.”

“What’s… that supposed to mean?” “I don’t want things to be how they were. We’re not going to stay on script! I want to be allowed to feel scared sometimes… and maybe sometimes you can be brave…”

“I can’t be brave Amanda…” Wooly stammers, “I’m not like you.”

“Then why can’t we just be scared together?” Amanda suggests, laying back down. Wooly lays back down with her.

“Let’s look for constellations!”

“Do you know any constellations?” Wooly asks.

“Um…” Amanda thinks, “I know the big dipper! Can you find that?” Amanda asks. Riley spots it rather quickly and clicks on it. “That’s right. Now um… I see a kitty and a puppy. Can you find them for me?” Riley clicks on them.

“I don’t think those are constellations.”

“Whatever, I’m making up my own now.” Amanda shrugs. “Can you find the apple pie?” Riley clicks on the apple pie.

“Haha basic.”

“Why don’t you come up with one then?” Amanda smirks.

“Hmm okay… find a giant lollipop!” Riley finds and clicks on it.

“You really liked that thing didn’t you?” Amanda giggles, “Find me… a… oh! Find me!” Riley finds an Amanda-shaped constellation. Literally whatever constellation they ask for just appears in the sky. Riley observes.

“Ooooh! Find me! Find me!” Wooly pleads. Riley clicks on the rat constellation. “See, this is why I don’t like you.”

“Okay then screw you too.” Riley scoffs, but clicks on the Wooly constellation anyway. He looks over at Amanda, who is happily observing the stars. She doesn’t say anything… she just soaks up their light. She really is enjoying this.

“I just can’t stay mad at you…” Wooly mutters.

“Aww… well thanks!” Riley gushes.

“No, not you. I can stay mad at you for the rest of my seemingly never-ending life.”

“Damn.”

“Wait… so you’re not mad at me anymore?” Amanda asks.

“Well I guess… sometimes I am. Like when you shoved snow down my throat earlier.” Wooly grumbles, “but… then I see you get all happy like that and the anger just kinda… melts away.”

“That’s me but when I see you start crying like a baby.” Amanda responds, “I just feel bad at that point honestly.” Wooly just looks awkwardly bothered by this statement, but he doesn’t say anything about it. “But hey, I like seeing you happy too. And you’re pretty funny when you’re angry. As… long as you’re not killing anybody.”

“What, scared I’ll decide to play operation?” Wooly scoffs, trying to casually check his nails and pretend he doesn’t care, while trying to avoid glancing at Amanda to see her reaction.

“Wow Wooly where did you get these comebacks?” Amanda gasps.

“What… does that mean?” “Where did you get all this sass?”

“From you.”

“Actually that checks out.” Amanda shrugs.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“For… what?” Amanda responds in confusion.

“For talking back?” Wooly says bracing himself.

“Not really. I like our banter.”

“Oh okay…”

“You got more reason to be mad at me…”

“Yeah…” Wooly sighs, “Amanda… are you… would you really leave here even if it meant you’d like… disappear?” Amanda’s eyes widen.

“Yeah… I would.”

“And that doesn’t scare you at all?”

“Of course it does, Wooly.”

“Then why? Can’t we find a better way?” “I hope we can… but honestly I don’t have much hope. I just… want to be out of here.”

“I see…”

“What about you? Would you come with me…?” “I don’t… I don’t know… I don’t know if I have the courage for that…” Wooly mumbles, “That said, if you leave I might not have a choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… you’re the star of the show Amanda. It’s the world of Amanda the Adventurer? Could this place even exist without you? I mean… it does just fine without me… without me this place just goes on like nothing even happened!” Amanda says nothing, she just looks on with a saddened expression. “I’m just the lamb sent to the slaughter. They could’ve picked anyone… They just picked me because I’m weak. Because I’m gullible. Or maybe just desperate to survive… and for what? What was I even trying so hard for… what I was waiting for? Something good to happen?”

“Hameln… has its ways of tricking people…” Amanda sighs.

“I knew someone was wrong with them… I knew something was off… and maybe I could’ve run away or cried like the others… maybe I could’ve tried to fight back… but at that point I just didn’t care anymore…” Wooly laments, “I really have no right to complain… I’m just some stupid sheep.” “Wooly…”

“I’m practically nothing… aren’t I?” Wooly cries. Amanda notices his demon form start coming out a bit. She panics and headbutts him in the forehead really really hard.

“AMANDA!” Riley gasps.

“Whaaaat! I panicked! Ugh… I just wanted us to see the stars!”

“He’ll be seeing stars alright.” Riley grimaced.

“That hurt…” Wooly mumbles.

“I’m sorry! You were going a bit too over the edge and I panicked.”

“Mmm… that’s okay…” Wooly says, rubbing his head, “I was being a real downer, wasn’t I?”

“Don’t let me hear you say that ever again, you hear me? You’re not nothing Wooly… you’re my closest friend… you’re… like a brother to me… an annoying whiny little baby brother…”

“Gee thanks Amanda…” Wooly rolls his eyes. Amanda squeezes his face really hard.

“Hey. I mean that. I want to get out of here with you. You want to get out of here too right?”

“Ye-yeah…” “Then we’re getting out of here. No matter what that means. Okay?” Amanda gently places her forehead against his.

“Okay Amanda…”

“But until then we just need to be patient. So no more every other day breakdowns alright? If you start feeling upset just… squeeze my hand or something alright?” Amanda says, offering her hand and helping Wooly back up on his feet. He squeezes it really really tight. Amanda immediately lets go. “Okay… maybe we need to get you a stress-toy or something. Something that isn’t BREAKABLE.”

“I know I’m just a whole mess aren’t I?”

“Hey… you do not get to claim the title of messier than me. At least you haven’t killed anyone, yet. Say, let’s keep it that way.”

“Good idea…” Wooly chuckles. “Guess I really can’t be the goody-two-shoes one anymore huh?”

“I don’t care. You’re perfect just as you are.” Amanda smiles.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes. You. Are. Perfect, perfect, perfect.” Amanda says squishing Wooly’s cheeks, “and I wouldn’t want my best friend any other way.” Wooly smiles and starts squishing Amanda’s cheeks too.

“You’re perfect too.”

“Well personally I think that no one’s perfect.” Riley shrugs, “But we’re all doing our best, and that’s enough.”

“Oh right, you’re still here.” Wooly says. Rude. Riley thinks. “I bet you’ve been watching us with a bucket of popcorn.”

“Contrary to whatever you believe, I actually care about your wellbeing and would never do that.”

“Really?”

“Really. Believe it or not Wooly we all really care a lot about you.” Riley says firmly.

“Really?”

“Yeah you silly goose!” Amanda laughs, giving him another hug from the side.

“Hate to say it but you’ve really grown on me.” Riley admits.

“Oh haha… well… now I just feel kind of silly…” Wooly says bashfully. “Like… all the sudden… I’m starting to think everything’s going to be okay.”

“Because it is!” Amanda beams. “Because we all have each other!” This is really starting to feel like an actual kids show now.

“Say… Amanda?” “What is it, Wooly?” “Can we go home now?” Wooly requests, “I can’t feel my legs.” “Alright Wooly.” Amanda laughs, she turns to Riley, “Can you help me get the blanket?” Riley clicks on it. Amanda picks it up and wraps it around Wooly.

“Amanda… you just dumped a bunch of snow on me… the blanket is covered in snow.”

“Oh… oops.” Amanda takes the blanket and wraps it up. Wooly grabs a flashlight from his wool and they start walking home. Amanda yawns a really big yawn. “Maybe we shouldn’t have stayed out so late… I’m… really tired.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Huh, no you don’t have to…”

“It’s alright… you’ve been taking care of me a lot lately… I gotta step up sometimes.”

“Well if you insist… you haven’t given me a piggyback ride in forever.” Amanda wraps the blanket around her and climbs on Wooly’s back.

“Isn’t that going to make you cold?” “I don’t mind the… cold…” Amanda says, “I’m not too heavy am I?” Wooly jumps up to put Amanda higher on his back, as she was slipping a bit.

“No you’re good… light as a feather.”

“Pssh! Liar! My dad would always pick me up and comment on how big I was getting and how soon I’d be too big to carry…”

“Ah… I see…” Wooly says softly, kind of awkwardly.

“He’d pick me up and lift me to the ceiling and we’d spin around till we got dizzy… or until we would almost crash and break something…”

“What else did you guys do?”

“We’d read stories, and play at the park, or go on hikes… we really liked to be outdoors.”

“Did you ever go stargazing like this?”

“No… I read about the winter thing in a book one time and had always wanted to try it… never got the chance… I… I’m glad… we got to do this together…” Amanda starts drifting to sleep. So Wooly stays quiet, trudging in the snow. The tape glitches to them being inside.

“What should I do now?” Wooly wonders. Riley clicks on the stairs.

“You could just put her in her bed…” Riley suggests “I don’t know if I can climb up the stairs with her… if I lose my balance that could end pretty badly…” Wooly mumbles worriedly. He nudges Amanda gently, “Amanda… Amanda wake up.” he whispers. “Aw she’s out like a light…” Wooly looks over at the couch and sets her down there. Then he goes upstairs. “Can you tell me where the blankets are?” he asks. Riley clicks on the pillows. “Well I guess we’ll need those too…” Wooly takes the pillows and throws them downstairs. Then Riley clicks on the blankets. Wooly tosses them down and then carefully creeps down the stairs himself. He throws one of the blankets over her and puts a pillow under her head. Then he puts a pillow on the floor and wraps himself up in a blanket. “I guess you aren’t so bad.” Wooly mumbles as he falls asleep and a light gray static covers the tape before it ends.

The tape falls out of the VCR. Okay phew… I think Wooly’s finally starting to like me… Riley thinks. They pull out their backpack and start looking through all the research they’d gathered. They looked at all of Caroline’s research strung about the room. Curiosity struck a chord in their mind. They pull out their phone and start looking up all of Hameln’s shows. All kids shows… starring child actors… but none are airing right now… they find an interesting video:

3600 Seconds Hameln Episode

It turns out it was a “3600 Seconds” segment that was promptly removed from air but reuploaded by someone onto the internet. Riley decides to watch the video.

“After media outrage surrounding Hameln’s almost-hit show Amanda The Adventurer, Hameln quietly shelved the cartoon and began to focus more on their line of toys. Information about Amanda The Adventurer and other fan-favorites of Hameln entertainment is now nearly impossible to find. Despite their desperate attempts to rebrand, many families who knew Hameln in the old days still seem very suspicious of them. We talked to one of these concerned parents, Esmeralda, who would like her last name and face kept private, who made the following statement:

Just then, they show a young woman… somewhere in her mid-twenties to early thirties with her face blurred out, sitting in a chair across from the interviewer.

“Their shows almost felt alive… in fact… the reason I stopped watching them was because Amanda- yes the cartoon character- told me not to. She told me to turn off the show and never watch it again. You know… so many of my friends had siblings randomly go missing after watching that show… and let’s not forget that the actors had gone missing as well… it was all so weird and so suspicious. As silly as it sounds… I think Amanda was trying to warn us about Hameln… I refuse to buy a single Hameln toy for my kids. If anyone tries to give one to my kids I throw it away and give them a new one.”

“So you don’t trust Hameln?”

“No, not at all.”

The interview ends and the reporter returns on screen. Wait… that’s one of their newer reporters right? They joined the show just this year… I think… I remember Sophie talking about it. She was so bummed when her favorite reporter retired, but she said this new one is pretty good at their job or something…

“Many untrusting parents, teachers, and fans of children’s entertainment have all at some point made mention of the mysterious disappearances surrounding the show. Many have become uneasy between the toy recalls and the announcement of a mysterious new show. Today I have with me a former Hameln employee, who insisted that his name, voice, and identity be… completely hidden for his own safety. He is going to tell us a little bit about his time working for Hameln.” They cut to the interview room.

“So you were working for Hameln for how many years?”

“A decade… and at that point I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“What happened?”

“So many staff and actors were disappearing… and the things they were doing to those kids…” he stops and shudders, “I just didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. I was afraid for my own life, for the lives of my family.”

“You didn’t think to speak up?”

“Everyone who did was killed.”

“By Ham-” “Don’t say that-” the video suddenly freezes. Riley tries to reload and is met with a message that says: This video is no longer available. Wait… new show? Riley realizes. Their blood runs cold. They do a quick google search and find an interview with Hameln’s current CEO.

“So what does Hameln plan to do in the future?” an interviewer asks.

“Ah well we got some interesting things on the horizon.” the CEO chuckles in a whimsical manner, rubbing his finger under his nose with pride.

“Oooh like what?”

“Well we’ve started working on a new show that is set to release in 2 or 3 years!”

“After all these years? Gosh that’s exciting! Any details about this new project.”

“Nuh-uh. It’s all hush-hush for now. I don’t even know all the details yet. But it’s sure to become a family favorite!”

The video ends. Cold sweat drips down Riley’s neck. A new show… What does this mean for Amanda?

Authors Note: Happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate! Hope you enjoyed this tape. I swear this has like one of the fluffiest scenes I think I've ever written. And some reused dialogue from another story that no one is going to notice.

#amanda the adventurer #amanda the adventurer 2 #wooly the sheep #ata 2 #maddykpost #amanda the adventurer wooly #fanfic #fanfiction #maddykwrites

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miss-tc-nova · 2 days ago

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With Reckless Choices - Leona Kingscholar x Reader Pt 6

So this is kind of a long one for silly reasons. But I couldn't help imagining something a little different.

Premise: What if they lived different lives?

Words: 3,344

Music Inspirations: Rewrite the Stars - The Greateset Showman

~~~Another Life~~~

Excitement buzzes in my chest like electricity on the verge of bursting. My elation brings with it queries from those I encounter through the day, most assuming that the prince and I have a lovely evening planned. I don’t correct them of which prince, however. Perhaps I should care more about such guesses, but my thoughts are far too gone to really dwell on those worries.

“Your highness, are you feeling alright?”

Coming to a halt, I look to the only person who’s questioned my sanity today. My escort too stops in the middle of the trail, auroral eyes blinking rather unassumingly. My arched brows furrow together.

“I’m doing quite well actually. Why do you ask?”

Ever stoic remains his expression. “My apologies. I just thought that you weren’t quite your usual self today.”

Maybe I am going a bit overboard. Still, a soft smile overcomes me.

“I guess it is a bit out of sorts for me.” Fluttering feathers of twitterpated love birds find my admiration upon a garden hedge. “I can’t even remember the last time I felt like this.”

Though he knows not why I smile, the young guard mirrors the sentiment. “Then I’m glad to hear you’re in such high spirits, your highness.” He gestures further along the path to continue our walk. “I presume you’ve no more meetings to attend today. What do you intend to do with the rest of your day?”

“Not much.” Lies, typically bitter in nature, taste all too sweet today. “Perhaps I’ll simply relax in a hot bath and read in my room.”

“If it’s not too bold to say, you’ve spent a lot of time alone in your room of late. Wouldn’t you prefer to spend time with His Majesty?”

There my smile slips. “I’m sure His Majesty has more pressing matters he’d rather address.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because he always does.”

His walk once again pauses to look back at me while I continue right past him. That statement had come without thought though I forgot with whom I was speaking—one of the heir’s closest friends. Thankfully, my callousness does not come up again.

Our afternoon walk meanders the garden and concludes at the threshold of my room. Before I slip away for the evening, he addresses me once more.

“You know, if you’re ever feeling lonely, I’d be happy to be your company.”

I know he means well; he always has. Of all the royal staff, he’s been the one most amicable to me. But his proximity to the future king has me apprehensive.

“I appreciate the offer, Silver. I’ll keep that in mind. Good night.”

“Good night, your highness.”

The door clicks shut between us, followed shortly by the lock.

And with that, I’m free.

Excitement comes rushing back, flooding my veins with adrenaline. Ripping through my room, I cannot get ready fast enough. Thoughts of warm hands infect my skin with goosebumps, their touch sending my heart aflutter.

It’s not that anything particularly exciting or important is happening today. Life outside our scandalous little paradise had simply gotten in the way, dragging out this woeful separation for several weeks now. Added to the fact that it’s impractical for me to have a phone in the first place, it’s not as if I can spend my day texting my lover to assuage this yearning. Needless to say, having Leona Kingscholar in my arms again can’t come soon enough.

A quick message precedes the portal that opens wide to a particular room in the palace of Sunrise City. My elation sends me leaping through, right into the arms of a lion caught off guard. Nevertheless, a chuckle ripples in his chest, the happiness infectious as he holds me close.

“Didn’t realize you could get any clingier.”

His snark cannot douse the high evident on my face. “I’m sorry. I could go.”

That grip tightens, a daring gleam in his eyes. “Go ahead and try.”

Giddy quips falter in the face of adoration. His kiss is like a fresh breath of air, bringing vibrancy to my grey life and I wonder how I ever lived choking on smoke. Just as I imagined, greedy palms press against my skin, not-so-sneakily slipping beneath my shirt to press against my lower back, eliminating what little space didn’t exist between us.

A soft click breaks the kiss, quickly chased by another and another, Leona as greedy for this reunion as I’d been. My own laughter interrupts his indulgence.

“Didn’t realize you could get any clingier.” His own words are sweet on my tongue, a close second to those lips.

A lazy sneer displays his annoyance. “Real funny.”

“I thought so.” Irritation melts beneath my touch ghosting his face. “So where are we going?”

Disengaging from my arms, Leona pats a pile of linen atop his bed. “I thought some time where literally no one can bother us would be good.”

“Oh? And where could we go for that?”

I love that smirk. “Same place you took me on our first date.”

A second ticks by, maybe two, before I understand. “Yeah? Where no one can hear you scream?”

Turning away, I draw up our transport. But just as the magic reveals the destination, a hand sneaks under my arm to snag my chin. The warmth of his chest against my back sends fire up my spine. Heady breath whispers past my ear as his deep voice consumes every coherent thought.

“Let’s be honest, if anyone’s screamin’ tonight, it’ll be you.”

The force of his implication shakes my very core, nearly disrupting the portal to our escape.

There’s a swagger in his steps as the lion struts on past, arms full of blankets. The smarmiest grin sits on his face as he looks back to offer me a hand.

There are those claws again, so plainly bared to ensnare my heart and drag me in.

It’s too late to hesitate anyway.

Stars glitter across the night sky, glorious in its fathomless depths. Some pale beside the moon that brings light to our nirvana, but the view’s magnificence reigns all the same. Hills of sand stretch endlessly in all directions, the soft texture conforming beneath bodies and blankets

Though the sun has long since receded, I find more than enough warmth in the presence of my love. Conversation fills the silence, his baritone I could listen to for hours.

“Hey, this is for you.”

From his discarded jacket, my lion produces an envelope.

My finger traces the blank face. “A gift? Whatever could it be?”

“You want me to tell you or you gonna find out?”

With a small chuckle, I take the paper and tear open the spine. Inside is a single paper—no, not a paper. It’s made of something thicker, but still paper-esque. The rectangle is printed in red and gold, a familiar insignia of a lion on one side. In bold, it reads “National Championships.”

I can’t suppress the urge to tease him. “Is it presumptuous to assume your team is the Lions?”

Exasperation rolls his eyes. “Hey, I didn’t name the team.”

“So the big championship game, hm?”

“Thought it would be rude if I didn’t invite my biggest fan. So I got you the best seat in the house. Kifaji was pissed I told Cheka he couldn’t come.”

“Oh you think I’m a fan?”

“Of the sport? Nah. Of me? Well, yer pretty crazy ‘bout me.”

“I should not be feeding that ego of yours.”

“What ego? You know I’m right.”

He very much is. “Yes yes. I’m crazy for my clever kitty.”

“Yeah, you are.”

We settle back into the sand, the silence comfortable. My words, however, echo in my ears, bouncing off stray thoughts of the reality of our lives. It doesn’t take much for a desire to give itself a voice.

“Can you imagine if things were different?”

An ear flickers. “Huh?”

“What if things were different and we were just normal people, with normal lives and normal worries.” My eyes trace the stars, sending thoughts to a world that never was. “Maybe I’d have a little book shop or something to pay bills—saving every spare thaumark just to treat myself a little down the road. Maybe I’d go to the markets, picking out fruits and vegetables for dinner.” His disgust at non-meat products draws a giggle. “Maybe I’d know how to cook all sorts of food, even though I’d have to do the dishes after. Living in my own little place without all the pressure to uphold appearances.”

Propping himself up on an arm, Leona looks down at me. “You really think about that stuff?”

My shoulders shrug. “Sometimes. What kind of life would you have? If you weren’t Leona Kingscholar?”

Leona lies back down, his contemplation rising to the sky. “I’d probably be a shitty manager at some game shop or something.”

That I was not expecting. “What?”

“It’d be easy, makin’ all the grunts do the hard work while I get to test out board games all day. Maybe I’d finally find a decent chess opponent.”

“You’d have to put up with a lot of children.”

“That’s what the grunts are for. You think I’d really step out of the back office with kids around? Fuck that.”

Laughter bubbles in my chest. “I should’ve known.”

“And you know, my way to work goes right by this little book shop.” A coy quirk plays at his lips.

It’s contagious. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean it ain’t fancy or nothin’.” He thinks he’s funny. “But the owner is pretty cute.”

Sitting up, I peer down at the smug cat. “Just cute, huh?”

“Okay, fine. Maybe there’s a reason I’m always late for work.”

“Leona!” I tease.

“Hey, I said I was shitty manager.”

“You know, I think I saw some stray cat standing outside my shop a few times. Thought I might have to call the cops but, you know, he’d be pretty attractive if he stopped creeping around.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to wander in and have a chat—use every bit of charm I got to ask for a date.”

I pretend to consider. “Mmm, I suppose one date wouldn’t hurt. I hope it goes well.”

“I’ll make sure it does. It’ll be the best damn date on a lowly manager budget. And whatever falls flat I’ll just cover up with a little charisma.”

“I hate to tell you, but I can see right through that cheesy charisma.”

“But you love it anyway.”

That toothy grin has me there. “I suppose your efforts earn you another chance.”

“That’s all I need. One chance leads to another and another, and pretty soon I got you hooked.”

“I don’t know, I might be busy with that bookshop.”

“I already manage one store. Keepin’ track of your dinky little shop wouldn’t be hard to pick up.”

“What makes you think I’d let you manage my shop? You don’t even manage yours.”

“’Cause you wouldn’t have a choice. I been hanging around, pickin’ up a few things. Before you know it, I’m watchin’ the shop while you got some errands or something. Probably didn’t even notice I got a second set of keys made.”

“That’s kind of unsettling.”

“What? Couldn’t keep taking yours every time you stepped out. Also made a copy of your apartment key while I was at it.”

“Leona!”

“Not for creepin’, sheesh. Calm down. Jus’ for emergencies. You know, like watering plants while you’re gone or checking your mail.” With each excuse, his grin gets cheesier. “Or bringing over dinner, or borrowing dinner, or naps.”

I knew it. “What happened to your place?”

“I got this wannabe-model roommate with a stick up his ass. He keeps harping on about stupid shit so the sooner I can find a quiet napping spot, the better.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

He does not deny.

“Well, I suppose if I’m expected to come home to a bum passed out in my house, you might as well have the keys to earn your keep. But I expect you to do your own laundry. And could you at least let me know when we’re out of milk?”

“Hell, I’m not useless. I’ll pay for what I eat. Damn.”

“And unless you’re paying for a cleaner, you better make sure your garbage finds its way to the trashcan.”

“Yeah yeah. Fine.”

In brushing a hand through his hair, it pauses just behind his ear where I rub my thumb. I love the way his eyes flutter at the touch. “It’ll be nice to have the company.”

“Woah, don’t get me wrong. I’m not just a roommate. You let me in the house and we’re serious.”

“I didn’t let you in.”

“Same difference. We’re that couple that have been together so long, everyone knows we’re together.”

“You broke into my house.”

“And you let it happen.”

My brow arches, but Leona’s gaze finds the stars again.

“You’re always the first out of bed, makin’ breakfast before heading out to open shop. After you’re gone, maybe then I’ll get outta bed—when I won’t be in your way. I pull my weight, even if I have to deal with teaching snotty kids how to play chess. Maybe if I have extra cash, I’ll buy lunch and bring it over before I have to get back to work. If you’re lucky, there’s a cinnamon roll for a special treat.”

“A whole cinnamon roll?” I tease.

“I didn’t say that. But who knows, I might actually take work more seriously, grab an extra shift or two. Gotta save up if I’m ever gonna get that ring.”

The breath hitches in my throat.

“Might not be fancy or anything, but I do my best to make it mean somethin.’ A quiet night in, takeout ready when you get home, couple candles, cheap champaign, and the sappiest music I can find.”

By now, he’s got me mesmerized. “And what do you say?”

“I dunno. Probably somethin’ stupid. Romance ain’t never been my best subject. Honestly, I probably screw up whatever plans I had and you start laughin’ at me. Might get a little frustrated, but I do eventually spit out that you mean a lot to me. And that maybe I don’t deserve you, but I’ll spend my life trying to do what I can to make up for it.”

“Leo…” I murmur.

Leona pushes himself back up, taking a moment to bask in the feel of my hand against his face.

“And then I ask you to marry me. ‘Cause I want us to share everything. A house, a bed, bills, achievements, secrets, troubles, laughs…”

I can tell there’s one more thing he wants to say, but just the gleaming light in his eyes tells me all I need to know.

“You’d do that?” The intensity of his statement has my voice weak.

His forehead meets mine softly. “I wanna be there every moment. I’ll do the chores, so you have time to enjoy. When you come home from a bad day, I’ll grab the blankets and put on some stupid show for us to watch.” He brushes his nose against mine. “I’ll even learn how to use the stupid microwave to make soup when you’re sick. I’ll take care of you. Every day. For the rest of our lives.”

Somehow, his voice becomes even softer.

“’Cause I’d do anything for that pretty little shopkeep at the bookstore.”

When his lips meet mine, I almost can’t believe this is Leona. So far every kiss has been voracious hunger, consuming everything. Even after his confession, his deepest desires burned bright so that he could hold fast his treasure.

This is entirely different.

Soft, sweet content pours from his mouth. It floods into my chest, swelling in my heart as I too find solace. Each move drags me deeper and deeper, drowning me in a euphoria I would willingly succumb to.

Meanwhile, a warm hand finds the small of my back, guiding my descent back to the blanket. This is when the kiss breaks, but his mouth quickly finds ways to continue its work. Every bit of skin exposed his lips find, each kiss a whisper of reverence. Fingers intertwine, praying to never part again. A knee over mine grants him better stability and I can’t help my leg hooking across it to keep him close. The air trembles in my chest at the feel of his tongue tracing my neck.

Hands untethered begin roaming. Mine finds its way into his hair, nails trailing along his scalp. His, meanwhile, leaves my back to slip beneath the hem of my shirt. The chill of the night air vanishes beneath the warmth of his palm. In retaliation, I move from his hair, venturing down his chest, tracing the contours along the way. Finger tips dance at the edges of his pants, finding the cool metal of a buckle. The grip at my hip tightens and all else freezes. Leona moves not a single muscle, waiting for permission, while my finger hooks under the belt. Then it comes undone.

A jarring buzz rips the soul from my body.

Rolling onto my stomach, I scramble for the cellphone just out of reach. I can’t silence the alarm fast enough, nearly prepared to break the thing to shut it off.

Awkward silence follows the fumble. Mentally, I curse myself for setting an alarm knowing what must happen now.

I sit up, letting loose a heavy sigh. Every bit of willpower I can scrounge together is almost not enough to speak. “We should go.”

In protest, arms drag me close, his face nuzzling into my shoulder.

I murmur his name. “Leona, come on.”

�� “Stay.”

The softness of his word shakes my resolve. “I want to, but you know I can’t. I have wedding plans to tend to in the morning.”

His face finally lifts, but when those harlequin eyes fall on me, I feel a twist in my stomach.

“Then cancel.”

“I can’t just—”

“Cancel the wedding.”

Barren sands preoccupy my gaze. I thought he was smart enough to know that would never happen.

“That’s not an option.”

All that pining weakness suddenly turns searing. The hint of a growl belies his words. “There’s always an option.”

Though I’m cautious, I try to relay common sense. “Not always.”

“Of course there is,” he snaps back. “Walk away. You don’t even want to marry that bastard. So don’t.”

“It’s not that easy and you know it.” Before he retorts, I crawl out of his grasp. “There are consequences to—”

“Damn the consequences.”

“You can’t just say ‘damn the consequences’ and things will magically work out. I know you’re used to doing whatever you want, but that doesn’t work here. Not this time.”

“Bullshit it doesn’t. You don’t go back. You tell them no. When they ask if you do, you say you don’t. You choose me.”

“I can’t do that, Leona.”

“Why not?!”

“You know why!”

“Then what am I—”

I can’t take any more of this conversation.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

His mouth clamps shut, shock overwriting his anger. There’s a sting in my eyes when I spot the pain barely hidden.

Hands trembling from frustration push the hair from my face in a feeble attempt to compose myself.

“It’s time to go.”

Without another word, I draw a line through space, opening the door directly to the prince’s palace bedroom. Gathering the blankets, I throw them through the magic and wait for Leona. Rounded ears lie flat and he keeps his gaze down, not saying a word as he steps through.

“Goodnight Leona.”

I just catch the sight of him whirling back before the magic snaps shut, leaving me all alone in this vast, desolate desert that feels so small. A shudder wracks my chest, nearly bringing me down, but the tears still escape into the dry sand.

Once I manage to regain my composure, I redraw the magic, only this time, it leads to my room in Briar Valley.

~~~~~

Part 7 (Coming Soon)

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

#gender neutral reader #twisted wonderland leona #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #twst leona #with reckless choices

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morningsharksworld · 21 hours ago

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Baby, I'm Yours

A/N: Ive been listening to this song for a while due to a hazard edit that I found on tik tok and it just has been eating at my brain. AND I also wanted to test out on writing out his accent just for one fic though.

Summary: Hazard has something on his mind that he wants to talk to you about

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The sky was a bruised shade of purple, the last remnants of twilight fading into night as you and Hazard strolled along the quiet path. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and damp earth, but the warmth of his presence beside you made the chill feel distant. It had been his idea to escape the bustle of the world for a while, though he’d been unusually shy about suggesting it.

“It’s nice out here” you said, breaking the comfortable silence. Your eyes drifted to the horizon, where stars began to prick through the deepening dark. “I’m glad you dragged me away tonight.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and slightly nervous. “Didn’t take much draggin’. Yer always up for a bit of peace and quiet—not that I blame ye.”

You glanced at him, catching the faint blush dusting his cheeks. It was rare to see Hazard flustered, the man who seemed to thrive on chaos and sharp wit suddenly subdued.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked gently, stopping to face him. The moonlight caught the edges of his features, softening the usually sharp lines of his expression. His gaze flickered away, then back to yours, as if he were steeling himself for something.

“It’s... well, it’s nothin’, really” he started, but the quirk of your eyebrow stopped him in his tracks. “Alright, alright. It’s somethin.”

You waited patiently, your silence urging him to continue.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about how to say this” he began, his brogue thickening slightly with his nerves. “But words... they’re not exactly my strong suit.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Figured if I didn’t say somethin’ tonight, I’d never work up the courage.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the earnestness in his tone. “Hazard” you said softly, stepping closer. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

He nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Aye, I know. And that’s part of the problem. Ye make it too easy, bein’ yourself. Yer kind, patient, funny... and ye’ve got this way of makin’ me feel like I’m somethin’ more than just... me.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat, your chest tightening at his words. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with a loose thread on his jacket as if it could distract him from the vulnerability of the moment.

“The truth is” he continued, his voice quieter now, “I’ve fallen for ye. Harder than I thought possible. And I’ve tried to keep it to myself because I didn’t want to muck up what we’ve got. But every time I see ye, every time ye smile, it’s like...” He paused, his voice catching slightly. “It’s like I’m yours already, whether ye want me or no.”

You blinked, his confession settling over you like a wave. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. Then, without thinking, you reached out and took his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“Hazard…” you said, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “Do you even know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that?”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. “Ye’re... yer no’ just sayin’ that, are ye?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Not even a little. I’ve felt the same way for so long, but I didn’t want to push you or risk scaring you off. You’re ... you’re important to me, Hazard. More than I can put into words.”

A grin spread across his face, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. He squeezed your hand, pulling you closer until there was barely any space between you. “Well, I’ll be…” he murmured, his voice tinged with awe. “Guess I’ve got to thank the stars for ye tonight.” You smiled, your free hand brushing a stray strand of hair from his face.

His gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Then, with a tenderness that belied his usual bravado, he leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that spoke of everything he’d been too afraid to say, of every moment he’d spent wishing for this one.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m yours” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Now and always.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but they were tears of joy, of relief, of finally finding something you hadn’t even realized you’d been searching for.

“Baby, I’m yours” you whispered back, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall.

The two of you stayed there under the starlit sky, wrapped in each other’s warmth, as the night seemed to stretch on forever. And for the first time, the world felt right—not because it was perfect, but because you were together.

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch imagens #hazard overwatch #hazard x reader #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #get this character away from me #fluff

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drabbles-mc · 3 days ago

Text

Pick-Up

Jesse Pinkman & Ignacio "Nacho" Varga

For @narcosfandomdiscord Book of Near Misses: fanwork with two characters from the same show who have never met

Warnings: 18+, language, no plot just vibes

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: do you ever think about the fact that these two never got to meet? because i sure do!!!!!! i feel like there is more down the line that i would like to do with these two in a different story. but for now there's this! also my first time ever writing for Jesse so 🫡

“Yo!” Jesse banged on the safehouse door. “Open up!”

He didn’t hear anyone calling back to him, didn’t hear any movement from the other side of the door at all. Letting out a deep sigh, he started to make his way around the house. All of the curtains were covering the windows, all the locks on them secured. The only car in the driveway was his own, and for a moment Jesse couldn’t help but to think that maybe Mike had sent him off on some sort of wild goose chase. Punishment for whatever he’d done most recently that had annoyed him.

When he wound up back at the front door again, Jesse was about to turn around and walk off. He’d been through enough bouts of hazing and pointless trips. What he didn’t want, though, was to get into deeper trouble because he didn’t do what he was supposed to. There was still always the off-chance that this was all legit.

Standing halfway between the front door and the car, Jesse took out his phone and dialed one of the four numbers that were programmed into it. Bringing the phone up to his ear, he let it ring. His shoulders slumped, head tilting back as he waited to be sent to voicemail, to a voicemail box that probably wouldn’t even let him leave a message.

“What?” Mike’s voice came through on the other end of the line, as unamused as he ever was.

“Did you even send me to the right place?” Jesse asked.

“Did you go to the right place?” he rebutted.

Jesse rolled his eyes, able to picture perfectly Mike’s expression even though the two of them were miles and miles away from each other. “I think I can match a house number and a street name.”

“Okay, then, you’re in the right spot.”

“Does your guy know I’m coming, then? Because I’m out here banging on the door and—”

“Did you really think that banging on the door was the best course of action? For a man that’s currently a fugitive and on the run from—”

“Alright, alright. So,” Jesse shrugged, “what, then?”

“There’s a number in your phone that you’ve never had to call before.” He paused, a meaningful silence that lasted just long enough for Jesse to put two and two together on his own. “Call it.”

Jesse opened his mouth to respond, something along the lines of, “How was I supposed to know?” or “Why wasn’t that part of the directions?” But before he could say anything the line went dead. He huffed before navigating his way through the umpteenth flip phone that he’d had and gone through.

He hovered over the contact saved into his phone as only NV. He looked back up at the windows on the front of the house, hoping to catch some movement in the curtains and getting nothing. Finally, he hit the dial button.

When the person on the other end of the line answered, they didn’t say anything. Jesse could hear the faint waves of static, but no breathing, no voice. “Look, I’m gonna wait out here for five more minutes and then I’m turning around and going home. I’m only out here because Mike—”

“Mike sent you?” the man on the other end of the line finally spoke up at the sound of a familiar name.

“Yeah,” Jesse said, rolling his eyes. “Sent me because he’s too busy doing other shit, I guess.” He paused, waited for the man to say something else, and when he didn’t, he said, “Four minutes, dude.”

Jesse waited for a response but it never came. Once more he was faced with a dead phone line and he briefly wondered if there would ever be a time in his life again when people actually gave him a response of some kind before hanging up. A simple “Got it” or “Thanks” would work in lieu of a real goodbye, but he never seemed to get anything these days.

He stood there and continued to stare at the front of the house. He watched the windows, the curtains still not showing any kind of movement. He wasn’t really close enough to hear the sounds of any scuffling around inside but he still strained an ear just in case. Another minute had almost ticked by, which never really felt like a long time until Jesse was standing aimlessly in someone’s driveway, and the front door still hadn’t opened.

Finally hitting the point where he felt like he’d either been set up for failure, or was about to fall into some sort of trap, Jesse shook his head and mumbled a quiet, “Fuck this,” to himself before continuing the trek back to the car.

Just as his fingers wrapped around the handle of the car door, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning in the direction of it, he saw a man walking out from behind the house. He had a bag slung over one shoulder, and a gun clutched with both hands pointed at the ground. Jesse’s face scrunched in confusion as much at the gun as at the state of the man in general.

Mike hadn’t told him much of anything about the errand that he was on, which was typical. He definitely hadn’t given Jesse a description of the person that he was supposed to be transporting which, looking back on it seemed like just as much of a security measure as it was a liability but there was nothing that he was ever going to be able to do about that.

Whoever this guy was, he certainly wasn’t dressed like a man on the run with the exception of the gun in his hands. He didn’t fit the bill for a guy who had been hiding out in a safehouse for who knows how long. Even though his shirt was dingy and wrinkled now, Jesse could see that on a better day, it was nicer than anything that was in his own closet. The boots on his feet weren’t the kind made for the types of treks they would most likely find themselves on.

There was no shortage to the number of comments that crossed Jesse’s mind to make as the man walked closer to him. The one he settled on, however, was emphasized with a perplexed look as he said, “Dude, what are you doing?”

The man mirrored his expression, though there was more annoyance etched into his features than Jesse’s. “What?”

Jesse nodded towards the gun that he was holding. “What are you doing? It’s just,” he held his hands out, gesturing to the space around the two of them, “just us. Gonna pop your ride out of here?”

He kept both hands on the gun still, however the muscles in his arms lost a little bit of their tension. “If you’re my ride,” he said, giving Jesse a pointed once-over as he did, “then yeah, sorry if I don’t wanna just take my chances.”

“You think Mike would send me all the way out here just to—”

“Even if you’re not here to kill me, I don’t exactly trust that you’re gonna be able to stop someone else who wants to,” he explained. He didn’t want to say it, but he also wouldn’t put it past Mike or anyone in their business to send someone all the way out to where he was just to get rid of him. Whoever this kid was that Mike sent didn’t seem like the kind of guy he’d send for that kind of job, but he knew better now than to say things like never.

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” Finally reaching and pulling the door open, he said, “Get in. Or don’t.”

Jesse had hardly sat down in the driver’s seat before turning the car back on. He was half-expecting whoever this guy was to turn around and walk back towards the house. Jesse wouldn’t have stopped him. Leaning across the console, Jesse stared out through the passenger window to see what the guy was doing, and found him doing another scan around them before finally opening the door and getting inside.

He watched the man as he set his bag on the floor between his feet. Jesse contemplated offering for him to throw it in the back seat, but the gun still being held in one of the guy’s hands was telling Jesse that the level of trust probably wasn’t quite there yet.

“Jesse,” he said as he shifted to reverse.

“What?”

Jesse looked at him before continuing on to look over his shoulder to back out of the crumbling driveway. “My name is Jesse. This is, you know,” he put the car into drive, “the part where you tell me who you are, what makes you so special.”

He stared at Jesse skeptically for a moment as he started off down the road. The car rattled slightly, filing what would’ve been deafening silence otherwise. He sat and he stared until Jesse turned to give him a quick glance before locking back onto the road. “Dude, it’s gonna be a long-ass drive if you’re just gonna sit there and stare at me in silence.”

He narrowed his eyes just slightly before finally saying, “Nacho.”

The chuckle that Jesse let out at that was reflexive. It was far from the strangest nickname he’d heard, and given the circles that he’d found himself running in lately he should know better than to laugh. But he couldn’t stop himself. He shook his head slightly as he reined in the other laughs that wanted to sneak their way out, an undeniable smirk on his face.

“Nacho,” he repeated with emphasis that was only amusing to him, “right on, yo.”

Jesse sat and waited for another moment longer, wondering if Nacho was going to have anything to say in response to that. He wasn’t looking for the guy’s life story, but he was wondering if Nacho was going to divulge anything about why they were in their current situation. Maybe even say how he knew Mike, or why Mike gave enough of a crap about him to have someone go out and fetch him, but didn’t give so much of a crap to come out and rescue Nacho himself. He’d settle for anything, but as Nacho settled back in his seat, gun still in his lap, Jesse knew that he wasn’t going to get any information that he didn’t pry or dig for.

“Right,” Jesse muttered under his breath. Not wanting to just listen to the rattling of the car on the road, and since his temporary partner didn’t seem to have anything to say, Jesse reached and turned the radio on to fill the void.

Music blared from the speakers for about forty seconds before Nacho shook his head and reached forward to shut it off. Nacho scoffed at the noise, and Jesse rolled his eyes at the lack of it.

Silence persisted for another minute or two before Jesse started to improvise, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. The rhythm didn’t feel familiar to Nacho, and he wondered if Jesse even had something in mind or if it was just stream of consciousness at this point. Nacho turned and looked at him as he drove and decided that there was no forethought happening there.

“Turn it back on,” Nacho finally said with a shake of his head.

“What?” Jesse asked, looking over at the man in the passenger seat.

“The radio.” He leaned so that his elbow was propped on the tiny ledge built into the car door. “Turn it back on,” he repeated as he propped his chin in his hand that wasn’t holding onto the gun.

Jesse rolled his eyes but he did as instructed, just glad to have something aside from his own thoughts to listen to. “Alright.” With both hands back on the wheel, he still found himself tapping his thumbs against it but it wasn’t audible. Eyes still trained on the road, he said, “Should’ve known that Mike wasn’t sending me to pick up anyone fun.”

“I—”

“If you’re looking for fun I think you’re looking in…the worst places possible.”

The sound Jesse made next wasn’t quite a chuckle, just that short, sharp exhale through his nose to prove that he’d heard and understood what Nacho was saying whether or not he agreed with it. Something about the response made it all click for him in a way, why Mike had sent Jesse out to the middle of nowhere to pick this guy up. Nacho might not have been in the divulging mood, probably wouldn’t ever be based on what Jesse had seen so far, but he didn’t need to know anything else to see how the web tangled itself together.

Leaning back in the driver’s seat, Jesse reached to turn the volume up two more notches before letting his hand fall onto the center console instead of back on the steering wheel. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nacho give another shake of his head, but neither of them said anything to the other. The ends of Jesse’s mouth curled upwards as he continued on down the road, preparing for a long, quiet drive back home.

#narcovember #book of near misses #better call saul #better call saul fanfiction #bcs #bcs fanfiction #jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman fanfiction #nacho varga #nacho varga fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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