#-the character count seems to be a little closer. Nearing about 1/4 the way done doesn't feel right though

[solradguy]

Ok, about 230 words of LtA translated tonight. There was a paragraph with a giant complicated sentence that slowed me down a bit. Better than no progress at all though!

Bernard was introduced in what I translated tonight. I saw on the wiki that it seems he's generally referred to as Ky's butler, but I decided to render the word 「執事」 as "steward" instead because he does more than just cleans Ky's house and bring him tea biscuits lol

Bernard manages crime syndicate reports, compiles summaries of them, and works as an analyst for Ky at the former Holy Order HQ in Paris, too. That's way above a standard "butler," imo. It seems like the word 「家令」 more generally means what we think of a butler as in English anyway.

LtA hasn't referred to Bernard with「家令」 at all, but if Norimitsu uses that or「バトラー」to refer to his job later I'll change it.

[rootedinrevisions]

In the Wings: Part 7

SUMMARY: As the final day of filming wraps, Glen takes a chance and asks you to be his date to the cast and crew’s wrap party. Dressed to impress, you both arrive together, careful to keep things discreet—at least at first. But as the night progresses, it’s harder to hide the growing connection between you. A shared dance on the floor, lingering touches, and knowing glances from friends make it clear: something special is blossoming between you and Glen.

OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I

PART 6

WARNINGS: Implied alcohol consumption. Otherwise just fluff.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The hair and makeup trailer is a quiet refuge as the last day on set winds down. You’re tidying up your station, placing brushes in their designated slots, and wiping down surfaces. There’s a bittersweet feeling in the air; it’s been an intense few weeks, and while you’re proud of the work you’ve done, a part of you is reluctant to see it end.

Just as you’re finishing up, you hear the door open, and your pulse quickens when you see Glen stepping inside. He’s still in his flight suit, hair tousled from the day’s scenes, with that familiar, easy grin that seems to brighten the room.

“Hey,” he says, closing the door behind him and leaning casually against the counter. “Got a minute?”

You nod, smiling as you tuck a few stray tools back into your kit. “What’s up?”

“Tom and the producers are throwing a wrap party tonight. Rented out a restaurant for the cast and crew.” He pauses, his gaze holding yours a little longer than usual. “I was wondering if you’d want to go with me.”

A soft smile forms on your lips. “Like… as your date?”

Glen’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint you’ve come to know so well. He nods. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

You don’t even need to think about your answer. “I’d love to.”

He steps closer, that playful look softening as he gazes down at you. “Perfect,” he murmurs, and before you know it, he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. The warmth of his touch and the light pressure of his lips make you forget everything else for a moment.

When he pulls back, he’s still smiling, his fingers lingering near yours. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

* * * *

The hotel room is quiet as you stand in front of the mirror, putting the final touches on your makeup. You smooth down the fabric of your dress—a simple but elegant piece you’d packed, just in case. The soft, flattering lines and deep color bring a touch of glamour that feels perfect for tonight.

As you swipe on a final layer of lipstick, a knock sounds at the door. Heart fluttering, you cap the lipstick and head over to answer. When you open the door, there stands Glen, leaning casually with a warm smile. His outfit—a pair of gray dress pants and a fitted black button-up shirt—compliments his relaxed confidence, and there’s an appreciative gleam in his eye as he looks you over.

“Wow,” he says, letting his gaze linger. “You look stunning. That dress suits you.”

You feel a blush creep up, smiling back as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Thank you,” you murmur. “You clean up pretty nicely yourself.”

He chuckles, his eyes twinkling. “Shall we?” He motions towards the hallway with a little nod, stepping aside so you can lead the way. You gather your small clutch and step out, feeling a flutter of excitement as he falls into step beside you. 

* * * *

The restaurant buzzes with the sounds of laughter and conversation, as cast and crew mingle in small groups throughout the softly lit space. You and Glen step inside, the warmth and lively atmosphere instantly welcoming you in. Heads turn your way, and you’re aware of a few knowing glances exchanged between people as you both walk through the entrance together. Even though there’s no hand-holding or any outward display of affection, the energy between you and Glen seems to say it all.

Glen catches a few of those looks and smirks, clearly amused, but he doesn’t let on as he leans close and murmurs, “I’m going to grab a drink. You want anything?”

You tell him your order, a casual smile exchanged as he nods and makes his way to the bar, blending into the crowd with ease. 

As he goes, you take a breath, willing yourself to stay composed despite the subtle attention. It feels surreal to be here with him like this, even if things are still discreet.

Spotting a group of your colleagues from the hair and makeup team near the far side of the room, you make your way over to them. They greet you with warm smiles, already in the middle of discussing the wrap party and the relief of finally reaching the end of a long, demanding shoot.

One of them nudges you playfully. “You and Glen, huh?” she teases, raising an eyebrow.

You manage to keep your smile relaxed, laughing it off. “Oh, we just rode over together,” you reply casually. “Just figured we’d save on an extra ride, you know?”

They nod knowingly, exchanging glances with one another, but they don’t press the subject further. You’re grateful for that. You settle into the conversation, chatting and catching up, feeling yourself start to unwind. Across the room, you catch sight of Glen waiting at the bar, glancing back your way with a small smile that makes your heart skip.

It’s a small, private look just between the two of you—one that makes you feel like the only two people in the room, even if you’re playing it low-key for now.

Glen weaves through the crowd with two glasses in hand, his gaze focused on you. When he reaches your side, he hands you your drink with a warm smile, his fingers brushing yours briefly. You murmur a thank you, taking a sip as he joins the small circle of your coworkers.

With that effortless charm, he thanks the hair and makeup team, nodding to each of them with genuine appreciation. “Really, we couldn’t have done any of this without you,” he says, glancing around at everyone. “The work you all do—the attention to detail, the early mornings—it’s all part of what makes everything come together.”

One of them, Linda, nudges you with a teasing smile, saying, “Well, we’ll miss you too, Glen. It’s a shame filming’s wrapped up. We won’t be able to keep you looking so good on set anymore.” Her eyes flick between you and Glen with a hint of suggestion, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

Glen doesn’t miss a beat. He chuckles, glancing sideways at you. You feel a slight blush rise to your cheeks, unable to suppress a smile as Glen’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer. 

Your colleagues exchange a few sly glances among themselves, clearly picking up on the connection between you and Glen. And while you’re careful to keep things discreet, there’s something thrilling in the unspoken understanding between the two of you.

Just as you and Glen exchange a glance, a voice over the restaurant’s speakers announces that dinner is about to be served. People begin shuffling toward their tables, glancing at place cards to find their seats. Glen leans toward you, just close enough so only you can hear him over the chatter.

“I’ll catch up with you later?” he says softly, his eyes holding yours with a quiet warmth.

You smile, giving him a small nod. “I’ll be here.”

With a grin, he heads off toward the cast table, joining Miles, Lewis, and a few others who are already joking and laughing, welcoming him over with waves and claps on the shoulder. You watch him for just a second, a faint flutter of excitement lingering, before making your way over to your own table with the hair, makeup, and costume team.

Sliding into your seat, you’re greeted with smiles and friendly chatter, everyone buzzing with excitement as the celebratory energy of the evening settles in. You settle into the familiar warmth of your friends and colleagues, sharing stories of the production and laughs over some of the more chaotic days on set, but there’s an undeniable thrill in knowing that, across the room, Glen is watching for his chance to find you again.

As the dinner plates are cleared away and laughter fills the room, the soft background music fades, replaced by something more upbeat. You’re in the middle of a lighthearted conversation at your table when someone clears their throat behind you. Turning, you see Glen standing there, hands in his pockets, his usual grin lighting up his face. He nods toward the makeshift dance floor where a few couples have already started to sway to the music.

“Care to dance?” he asks, his voice soft but playful.

You glance around the room, a mix of excitement and uncertainty washing over you. Your eyes dart to the people still lingering at their tables, wondering if this is a good idea, but Glen catches your hesitation and chuckles, leaning in closer.

“Come on,” he coaxes, his voice low. “Just one dance.”

You feel your heart skip, a smile tugging at your lips as you give a small nod. “Alright. Just one.”

He reaches out, and you slide your hand into his, feeling his fingers close gently around yours as he leads you over to the dance floor. The room fades slightly as he turns to face you, one hand slipping to your waist, the other still holding your hand. You’re close, but just enough to keep it innocent. As you move together, the song fills the air, each beat pulling you a little closer to him, and you can’t help but let out a small, contented laugh as he guides you in time with the music.

“See?” he murmurs, glancing down at you with a soft, teasing smile. “Not so bad, is it?”

You shake your head, the laughter still in your voice. “Not bad at all.”

For a moment, it’s just the two of you, and the rest of the room falls away—nothing but Glen’s steady gaze, his hand at your waist, and the gentle sway of the music surrounding you.

As the upbeat song fades into a slower, softer melody, Glen’s arm around your waist tightens just a bit, gently pulling you closer. You feel his chest press against yours, the warmth between you deepening as he bridges the last small gap. Instinctively, your head falls to his shoulder, and for a second, you let yourself melt into the quiet, intimate moment.

But as you open your eyes, you catch sight of a few colleagues at the edge of the dance floor, glancing over with raised eyebrows and soft, knowing smiles. A wave of nervousness ripples through you, and you lift your head, glancing up at Glen, who’s still looking at you with a gentle, contented smile.

“People are watching,” you murmur, searching his eyes.

He lets out a quiet, almost mischievous chuckle, his gaze steady. “I know,” he replies, unfazed, his voice low and calm.

You hesitate, studying his expression. “Aren’t you worried?”

He shakes his head slowly, still holding you close, his thumb brushing gently over your back. “Not really,” he says, the warmth in his eyes sincere. “I’ve spent half of filming pretending like I don’t want to be this close to you. Now, I just want to enjoy spending time with you.”

The conviction in his words settles any lingering nerves you have, and a smile finds its way onto your face. With the music wrapping around you, you let yourself sink back into the dance, resting your head against his shoulder once more. This time, you don’t care about the glances or whispers; it’s just you and Glen, lost in the music, letting the rest of the room fade away.

As the night winds down, you find yourself caught up in a lively conversation with Miles Teller and his wife, Keleigh. Miles is recounting some of his favorite memories from the shoot, and Keleigh is laughing, chiming in with her own playful commentary. You’re fully immersed in the moment when you suddenly feel a warm hand on the small of your back. Before you can react, an arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into a familiar embrace. You glance up and see Glen beside you, a soft smile on his face.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice gentle as he nods toward the door. “You ready to head out?”

You smile back, a warmth spreading through you as you nod. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

You both turn to say your goodbyes to Miles and Keleigh, who give you knowing smiles as they wave you off. Miles raises his glass in a silent toast, and Keleigh winks, her gaze flicking between you and Glen.

Glen reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he leads you out of the party. As you step out into the night, the hum of the party fades behind you, leaving just the quiet sounds of the city around you. Glen glances down, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand as he holds it tightly.

Walking side by side, there’s a feeling of contentment, a quiet excitement that lingers between you. With every step, you feel the weight of the evening’s shared glances, the unspoken promises, and the joy of finally being able to enjoy each other’s company openly. As you head back to the hotel together, it feels like the perfect end to the night—and the beginning of something even better.

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Hello, my request is for Niragi ✨ Y/N was popular in high school and always protect him when he was bully. When they saw each other in Bordeland, she saw how much he changed and keep her distance from him (which he hates), and she have an attitude that make one of the militants wants to attack her but Niragi protect her like she did with him bc he would never admit her but she's his only weakness

Yessss I’ve actually been wanting to write something for Niragi that sounds very similar so I’m glad you requested this! Thanks so much! 💕

You’re Everything You Once Hated | Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. The guys that bullied Niragi, Ann, Hatter, OC’s)

Summary: You and Niragi were best friends in high school. When you arrive in the Borderlands, you notice he’s not the person he used to be, causing you to avoid him. But unfortunately, he’s not happy about it.

Warnings: swearing, bullying, smoking, drinking, violence, threatening, bullet wounds, implications of sexual assault

Word Count: 7.1k

*reader is female

Niragi gif credit

4 Years Earlier…

The young boy grunted out in pain, having been hit with another rock right between his eyes. This one managed to crack his glasses, making his vision go all distorted.

His classmates around him roared with laughter. His heart filled with both anger and sorrow, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into the wind and out of his current situation.

“Aww, little Niragi has become quiet. Where’s those sarcastic remarks from earlier, they seemed to have left you,” his attacker mocked, adding a mean tone to his voice.

Just the usual. ‘Maybe they might end their target practice with me earlier today,’ he hoped.

He had grown used to it. He now expected to be dragged under the bridge each day on his way home from high school, being pushed around and roughed up. It’s not like he could’ve defended himself anyway. It was six guys against one, he never had a chance.

A short jab to the back of his neck broke him out of his thoughts. He groaned and doubled over, feeling as he was going to throw up. “Come on Niragi, fight back! It’s no fun when you just stand there,” the blonde student complained, striding over to the weakened boy. He gave him a quick kick to his side, making him fall on his hip harshly.

“Fuck off,” Niragi groaned under his breath, half hoping his tormentor didn’t hear it. But unfortunately, the small remark reached his ears.

“What was that? Did you just try to defend yourself? You’re going to have to use a lot more than just a few words you fucking loner,” the boy poked, giving Niragi another harsh kick to his stomach, making him become winded and choke on air.

He laid there taking their harsh words and hearing their mocking laughter ring in his ears. What did he ever do to deserve that?

“Hey Haru!”

The blonde turned his attention from his target to the direction of the voice that called his name. There you stood, by yourself with no one else. You obviously didn’t think the situation through before throwing yourself into it. You remained near the stairs that led down to below the bridge, holding something behind your back, but Haru seemed to not notice it.

Your heart skipped a beat when the group of high school boys all locked eyes with you, confused about what you were doing interrupting them.

“The fuck do you want Y/N?” the blonde, Haru, asked you in an annoyed tone.

You gulped before answering him, trying to sound as threatening as you could without your voice cracking. “Let him go! He’s done nothing to you, why are you giving him a hard time?” you spat at him, taking a few brave steps closer to the scene in front of you.

Niragi slightly lifted himself off the ground to look over at you. He recognized you from his social studies class. You both sat together at the back, and he always thought you were too nice for your own good.

Niragi sat up and shook his head, trying to warn you to stop what you were doing. He didn’t want to drag you into his own problems. He would’ve felt awful if you happened to get hurt while trying to help him.

Haru rolled his eyes and groaned at you. “Why are you getting involved? This is none of your business,” he retorted, walking closer to you with the baseball bat in hand. You watched with fearful eyes as he swung the bat around, obviously to threaten you.

Your heart quickened and you felt it pound against your ribcage dramatically. As Haru got closer and closer, you stood your ground bravely, still holding your hand behind your back to hide your weapon from him. You weren’t stupid enough to get yourself involved without having some kind of way to defend yourself.

“Well? Are you going to answer me or just stand and shake like the pathetic girl you are?” Haru tormented, a confident smirk growing across his face.

His comment made your blood boil. “Do you have a saviour complex or something? Why did you think you could help this son of a bitch?” he pressed, gesturing towards Niragi who was slowly rising to his feet with a worried expression on his face.

That was it. He was getting far too close to you for your own liking, so you decided that comment was the final straw. You rushed towards him and pulled out the large can of pepper spray from behind your back, aiming directly at his smug face.

He cried out in pain the moment the spray hit his eyes, dropping the baseball bat and covering his face with his hands. He tried desperately to rub the stinging liquid out of his eye with his school blazer sleeves, but it wasn’t worth the effort as it only made it worse.

You moved quickly and picked up the bat that he dropped, running past him towards the other boys that were still gathered around Niragi. They all held shocked expressions on their faces.

“You want some too?” you bluntly asked, thrusting the pepper spray towards them. They all flinched and stumbled to get away. You smiled, feeling empowered.

Haru and the others ran, thinking that beating up Niragi wasn’t worth being blinded for.

You turned towards the bloodied boy standing against the wall looking at you in shock. You glanced at him, giving him a friendly smile. He returned it.

After that, you two became inseparable for the rest of your high school days, spending every waking moment together. With your tough attitude and Niragi’s shy demeanour, you were a strange friendship to have been made. You thought you would always stay together, until one day Niragi went missing.

You never guessed where he may have ended up, until you were sent there yourself a few years later.

*************

You breathed in a huge gulp of oxygen as the black bag was harshly pulled off your head. You tried to wiggle your hands to shield your eyes from the blinding sunlight seeping through the windows but struggled as you saw that your hands were tied to the armrests on either side of you. You groaned in frustration.

As the curtains closed so you could see probably, you saw a young woman with short black hair dressed in blue shorts and a white button up that was tied at the waist. “Sorry,” she began. “I forgot to close that before removing the bag.”

You looked around at your surroundings. You noticed that there were several more people in the room. The room was large, stretching down further until it came to a stop at the end where a large wall stood, conveying a huge spray painting across it that consisted of every card from a deck of cards. Some were crossed out, while a few number cards and all face cards remained untouched.

You whipped your head around, feeling restless from the number of eyes staring at you. You don’t remember how you got into this situation. All you remember is walking to a large light in the distance from your position on a bridge, being curious as to how it seemed to be the only building with electricity. Before you knew it, someone had grabbed you by the shoulders and shoved something over your head, making your vision go black and suddenly passing out.

You moaned in pain as you felt the back of your head throbbed, probably from when they punched you to knock you out.

“What’s going on?” you asked, struggling in your restraints more, trying to break free. An older man with glasses scolded you. “Stay still, Hatter will be here soon.”

Just as he promised, two large doors on your left burst open, revealing a man with a long decorative robe and dark glasses on. He had two other men beside him, both holding revolver guns.

“Ah! A newcomer!” he exclaimed excitedly, taking a big sip from his drink.

You froze, watching as he strides into the room further, making himself comfortable on a table in the centre of the room.

“A few of my militants tell me they found you sneaking around nearby The Beach,” he accused, pointing his finger at you.

You stared at him; confusion written all over your face. Militants? The Beach? What was he talking about?

After you didn’t answer him for a moment, he let out a big sigh and jumped off the table onto his feet, beginning to talk himself.

He explained the current situation to you. About how the dynamic at The Beach worked, and that considering the number of high-level cards you had on your person, you seemed to be the perfect candidate to add to the ranks of everyone there.

“And remember, death to the traitors,” he said, spite filling his tone. He had listed off the three main rules to you, each one adding more dread for you.

“Okay, all good. But I just want to say. If you want people to help you collect cards, kidnapping them isn’t the best idea. If it hasn’t hit you yet, that would make people want to help you less,” you smartly said, trying to stop your lips pulling up into a smirk.

All the heads in the room turned to Hatter. No one has ever questioned his motives to his face before, especially a newcomer.

Except, he didn’t get angry like everyone expected. Instead, he chuckled and held his drink out towards you. “Cheers to that, I guess. Have fun!”

************

The Beach was a lot more crowded than you expected. Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you walked down to the bottom floor to the pool. People were everywhere; dancing, swimming, drinking, talking, smoking. It honestly couldn’t have been more chaotic than it already was.

You spent most of the remainder of the day becoming familiar with the layout of the hotel. You found the room that you had been assigned to. You managed to score a room that was a little above average. Hatter decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and gift you a higher number due to your high number cards. He thought it was only fair.

You were sitting at a table nearby the bar. The sun had gone down but the party continued on through the chilly night air. You shivered, not being used to being dressed in a bathing suit twenty-four seven. You were annoyed that you weren’t even allowed to wear some sweatpants to bring you some kind of warmth. You guessed you would just have to grow used to feeling the cold on your skin.

The warm beverage slipped down your throat, bringing you at least a little bit of comfort. You had made yourself a coffee inside, not in the mood for alcohol just yet. You honestly didn’t like drinking without having anyone you trusted around you, just in case something was to happen.

You looked around the area, taking in everyone’s faces to see if anyone appeared friendly enough to be nice to you. You needed to make some allies before the next game, otherwise you would be the first they would sacrifice.

As you scanned the crowd, your gaze landed on a particular male, who was sitting in a more done up booth nearby the pool. He was wearing a black and white checkered shirt with black skinny jeans. He had several piercings in his face, making him seem more threatening.

You squinted your eyes. Why did he look so familiar? You swore you’ve seen him before.

You kept your gaze locked on him, watching as he communicated with the people sitting near him. You noticed that a huge sniper rifle was tucked behind him. He must have been a high-ranking militant, being able to carry a weapon like that around.

He suddenly flung his head back and let out a roar of laughter at something the guy next to him had said. You froze in your spot.

You could recognize that laugh anywhere. That loud, obnoxious laugh that used to come from your old friend Niragi from high school. Your best friend that randomly disappeared.

You blinked a few times before looking back at him. His facial features did match and the way he smiled seemed way too familiar to not be him.

How could he be here? Is this where he disappeared to a couple of years ago?

Your heart filled with joy and a wide grinned grew on your face. That had to be Niragi! Who else would it be?

You quickly stood to your feet, almost tripping on your chair in the process and began making your way towards his position.

Although, as you did so, another man approached him from behind, leaning over the seat and tapping his shoulder. Niragi turned with an angered scowl on his face, but it turned to a smirk once he heard what the man had to tell him.

You stopped in your tracks and watched as he leaped over the backrest of the couch suddenly, following the man with his rifle slung over his shoulders. They were headed to the door that led inside, so you quickly followed, wanting to reunite with your old friend from so long ago.

“Niragi!” you yelled out happily, trying to get his attention. A few heads turned at your voice around you, but he didn’t manage to hear you over the sound of the music blaring through the speakers.

“Niragi!” you tried again, but this time you were blocked by a few people in your way. A small crowd gathered in front of you, not noticing you trying to get past.

Niragi turned his head at the mention of his name but couldn’t see anyone calling his attention. He shrugged it off and kept following the man. He had told him that a young guy was causing some trouble inside one of the halls, so he was going to take care of it.

As you finally managed to force yourself through the small crowd that interrupted your path, you saw the Niragi and the man had already made it inside. You ran straight after them. You were feeling ecstatic, ready to throw your arms around him and give him the biggest hug ever to make up for all the days you’ve been apart.

As you quickly made your way inside, you caught a glance of his checkered shirt turning the corner a bit ahead of you. You moved your legs as quick as you could, trying to catch up.

You turned the corner, about to yell out to him again, but your voice got caught in your throat when the sight in front of you met your eyes.

“You really thought you could get away with this?!”

Niragi had a young boy pinned to the ground, pressing his boot against his upper back and shoving the barrel of his rifle against his skull violently. The boy below him was crying and begging for his mercy.

You had a small flashback to high school, when you saw Niragi’s main bully Haru shoving a baseball bat against the back of his head, him lying on the ground battered and bloodied.

It was the exact same scene. Only this time, Niragi was the tormentor himself.

“Niragi, I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he cried desperately, clawing at the floor trying to get away.

Niragi lifted his other boot and stamped it down roughly onto the boy’s hand. You covered your mouth as you heard a few bones crack.

He leaned down closer to the boy’s face and lifted his head up his hair, making him whimper in pain. “If I ever see you stealing from one of the executives again, this rifle will go down your throat and I won’t hesitate to blow the back of your skull out,” he hissed, sticking out his tongue and revealing the ball piercing he had.

The boy nodded, leaning away from Niragi as best as he could.

The man who led Niragi to the scene tapped him on the shoulder. “Alright that’s enough. You don’t want to give him PTSD,” he said calmly.

Niragi let out an annoyed groan. “But I was just getting started with him!” he whined, letting the boy out from under his boot and watching as he scuttled away like a bug.

You couldn’t move. You stayed put as the boy pushed past you, accidentally smacking into your shoulder in the process. Your eyes remained wide, staring at the tall man with fear written across your face.

This was not the Niragi you knew. It was not the Niragi you defended from those bullies. This was not the Niragi that used to be your closest friend, possessing a shy and timid personality. No, that Niragi was dead now. This was a devil standing in front of you. Nothing but a violent jerk that struck fear in anyone that he came across. What happened to him?

Unfortunately, you took a little too long to gather your thoughts and before you knew it, a rough grip was on your shoulders shaking you out of your daydream. You flinched in a panic as you saw Niragi’s angered face appear in front of yours.

“What are you looking at? You want some too?” he growled, shoving the barrel of his gun against your temple. You froze, staring into his dark, evil eyes, not knowing what to do.

You watched in confusion as his hard and angry facial features softened, rage turning into surprise, and even concern.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, taking his hands off your shoulders and backing a way a bit in shock. You kept your eyes on him. You wanted nothing but for him to recognize you a few minutes before, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Y/N?!” he exclaimed suddenly, causing you to jump as his tone. A large smile grew on his face, only you viewed it as nothing but sinister and evil.

“Oh my god Y/N! Since when did you get here?!” he asked excitedly. He quickly moved towards you again and held his arms out to give you a hug, but you backed away and shook your head, making him frown.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you recognize me? It’s me! Niragi! Your best friend!”

You shook your head again, trying to get the message across that you didn’t want him near you. “Sorry Niragi,” you mumbled, trying hard to keep your tears in.

You quickly darted around the corner, making your way to the staircase to run to your room. You felt overwhelmed. After everything that happened today, finding out that your closest friend was now a murderer was the last thing you needed.

Your stomach dropped as you heard heavy footsteps following closely behind you.

“Wait Y/N! Please let me explain!” he tried to stop you, but you weren’t going to give him any time after that performance with the young boy.

“Piss off Niragi!” you yelled, climbing the stairs as fast as you could, trying to get away from him.

You turned onto the floor that your room was located on, sprinting down the hallway. You glanced back over your shoulder to see that Niragi wasn’t that far behind you. He had dropped his rifle, now trying to catch up to you empty handed.

You quickly busted through your door and immediately pressed your entire body weight on it. You silently cursed Hatter for not letting you have locks.

You heard him arrive in front of it, immediately trying to open it, but you stood your ground. He may have been tall, but there was nothing but skin and bones on him. He had no muscles to help him push through.

You held the door shut with your leg and reached for a chair to put against the handle so we wouldn’t be able to open it. You managed to secure it underneath the handle and stood back, watching as Niragi tried to open it again, but failing.

“Y/N please just let me in! Let me explain! I didn’t mean for you to see that!” he cried. You almost felt guilty, hearing as he started tearing up behind the door while still attempting to let himself in.

“Please Y/N! Let me in! I missed you!”

You covered your ears with your hands. You didn’t want to listen to his pleas, it would do nothing but make you feel bad for him.

That wasn’t Niragi outside your door, that was a cold-blooded killer that you wanted nothing to do with.

**************

The next few days you spend on alert around The Beach, looking around every corner for Niragi. As much as you’ve missed him the past few years, that event that occurred with the young boy obviously showed that he was no longer the nice and caring friend that you used to have. If anything, he now has become what he hated most in his high school days, a selfish and careless bully.

Who wants to be associated with someone like that? Not you.

Although even though you managed to avoid him in person, his name was brought up wherever you went. A few people would approach you during the day and warn you that Niragi was looking for you. It only would make your anxiety spike, causing you to scatter off to a more secluded place somewhere at The Beach. Most of the time you would hide in your room, but on the few occasions you climbed to the roof or hung around Alice and Usagi (who you had befriended), you managed to keep away from the psychopath.

One day, you were sitting out on one of the tables out by the pool. It was still quite early in the morning, so there wasn’t a lot of people around. The air was quite nippy, making you shiver against the cold breeze. You rubbed your arms up and down, trying to warm yourself up. Unfortunately, you hadn’t grown used to the ‘always wear bathers’ policy yet.

You felt a gentle hand lay itself on your shoulder, making your eyes widen and your head whip around to yell at whoever had dared to touch you, but you held in your harsh remark when your eyes met with Niragi’s.

“Finally! I found you!” he exclaimed, a sickening smile spreading across his face. You leant away from his touch, scooting your butt along the seat of the table, trying to make distance between the two of you.

Niragi obviously didn’t like this.

“Why are you avoiding me like I’m some kind of disease? I just want to talk to you! I haven’t seen you in years!” he said annoyed, taking a seat at the table.

You eyed his sniper rifle closely, watching as he placed it down on the table in front of him. You felt somewhat relieved that the barrel was pointing away from you. Who knew when he would decide to use that vicious weapon against you?

You blinked, not daring to say anything. You wanted to get out of the situation as soon as possible. It was unbearably uncomfortable.

“Sorry Niragi, I have to go,” you stated, standing up out of your seat and moving to turn away.

Niragi gripped the back of your hoodie and pulled you so you sat down again, making you yelp in surprise. “No, you don’t. Stop avoiding me,” he growled, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes tightly in discomfort. You swore you were so close you could hear his heart beating. With a short shove to the side, you got out of his grip and stood up again.

“No, I do. I’m sorry but I really don’t want to talk to you,” you bluntly said, becoming agitated from his insistent behaviour. Why did he think he could just tell you what to do?

He frowned, standing up as well. “Fine then, I’ll just come too. I don’t care if you don’t want to talk to me. You don’t get a choice.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly started walking away from him, hoping to at least get a head-start to stay away from him. You heard him jog up to you as you kept walking, seeing his shadow appear right next to you.

You became more and more anxious the longer he followed you. He started to get a little too comfortable in his movements, even having the audacity to touch your hair and comment on how much it’s grown.

It got to a point where you had walked all the way to the lobby about three times, realizing that he wasn’t even focusing on where you were going. You turned around just as he was reaching to grab your hand, looking him in the eye with anger written all over your face.

“Can you not take a hint?! Leave me the fuck alone!” you yelled, watching as his face contorted into shock at your tone.

“I don’t want to have anything to do with you Niragi! You’re fucking insane and sadistic! Has it not occurred to you that you’ve literally become the soul thing that you hated in high school?!” you sassed, anger ripping from your words and smacking him in the face.

The few people in the lobby turned their heads at the sound of your arguing, being curious due to not seeing anyone ever dare to yell such vulgar words towards Niragi.

He tucked his hand into his jeans pocket and readjusted the rifle on his shoulder, almost looking bored. “Yeah? And what would that be?” he asked, licking his bottom lip while staring at your menacingly.

You cringed as his movements. “A fucking asshole! A little bitch that preys on those weaker than him just so he can project his own hatred for himself onto them! You’re pathetic Niragi, and it’s a real shame that no one has in this shithole has told you so. Because no one knows you like I know you, and I know that on the inside, you hate yourself more than anyone could ever hate you.”

You took in a deep breath, regaining your strength. You suddenly saw the irony in your words. You accused Niragi of projecting his anger onto others when you just did it yourself.

Niragi rolled his eyes, bringing his rifle down off his shoulder and fiddling with the bullet canister. You felt your heart stop from his actions, being afraid that he was going to use it on you.

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me Y/N,” he laughed, glancing his eyes back up to you.

You grunted in annoyance. “Just leave me alone, please,” you begged, turning around and leaving Niragi to the peeping eyes still staring at you both.

He turned his head to everyone in the lobby. As he did so, everyone turned back to what they were doing, being afraid of being caught staring and yelled at by him.

“That’s right. Mind your own business,” he shouted out across the lobby to make sure everyone heard.

He watched you as you walked away, eventually turning the corner to go search for Alice and Usagi. At least they would give you some kind of security after what just happened.

He chuckled to himself, sticking his pierced tongue out and running it across his lips once again. “Just you wait Y/N, you’ll come running back to me soon enough. You can only keep that tough façade up for so long. Just wait until people find out that you’re all bark and no bite.”

************

You stumbled your way to the entrance of the hotel, head throbbing in pain and legs aching from the muscle strain you’ve put on them. You had arrived back from your game, being the only one that managed to survive. You didn’t feel well, both physically and emotionally, so you were planning on slipping into a coma for a few days to sleep off the pain that you were feeling at that moment.

It felt like a huge effort to even lift your feet. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so you weren’t even thinking of checking in on Alice or Usagi. You said to yourself you would look for them tomorrow. You were in too much of a bad mood to engage in conversation. You’d probably end up snapping at them, which wouldn’t be fair on them since they just completed a harsh game themselves.

As you were just about to enter through the large glass doors before a young militant woman with short blonde hair pushed through before you even had the chance. She managed to even knock your shoulder during the process, making you hiss in pain.

She looked you up and down with a disgusted expression on her face. “Watch where you’re going,” she spat before continuing walking inside.

You rolled your eyes. “Bitch,” you mumbled under your breath.

Her head quickly whipped around to meet your eye, an angered scowl on her face. “Excuse me?” she said in disbelief.

Your words got stuck in your throat. She wasn’t meant to have heard that. “I-I…”

“I-I..” she mocked you. You felt your adrenaline skyrocket. You’ve heard of this girl; she doesn’t take things lightly.

“Look I’m sorry, it just slipped out I promise,” you stammered out, putting your hands up in a surrender. You weren’t in the mood for dealing with her shit, you were grumpy and tired. You hoped she would let you off with just a warning.

But she had different plans.

She grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, dragging you outside again and brought you over to a small alleyway that ran along the side of the hotel. You struggled in her grip and protested the whole way.

Although, you stopped fighting against her when she shoved you against a brick wall and pulled a revolver out of her jacket pocket, pushing it underneath your chin. You froze and looked at her with pleading eyes, begging for her to have mercy.

“You’ve messed with the wrong person you bitch,” she growled, giving you a quick jab to the ribs. You yelped in pain, clutching your side. It hurt ten times more, considering you’ve already faced a horrific game that same night.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, feeling tears welling up in your eye sockets.

She scoffed and smirked at you. “Wow, all bark and no bite huh?” she teased, throwing a kick to your shin, making you cry harder.

Her words angered you, making you see red for a short moment. You forgot about the revolver against your chin and gave her a quick punch to the jaw, making her head whip sideways.

She groaned, clutching her face and slowly turned back to you. You felt yourself fill with regret when you saw the look on her face. She looked like she was ready to kill you.

“Is that how you want it? Fine, have a hole in your foot. Maybe it’ll manage to get you and your attitude killed off in the next game,” she snarled.

Your stomach dropped at her words. Before you could even protest, she pulled away and aimed the gun towards the ground and blew a quick bullet in the top of your foot.

You cried out, kneeling and grasping your foot in your hands in pain, biting your tongue so you didn’t scream too loud. The pain of the bullet seeped from your foot and up your leg, spreading across your body.

The militant girl stood above you, laughing at your pathetic body lying on the ground. Your screams of pain brought her pleasure.

“Didn’t think this would happen when you bad mouthed me, didn’t you?!” she laughed, leaning down and pushing the gun against your head to threaten you more.

Another gunshot rang in your ears. For a moment you thought it was her and that she had put a bullet through your head, killing you. But then you heard a cry and saw the girl fall in the ground holding your shin with her head thrown back in a silent scream.

You were about to attempt to stand up to take this opportunity to run, but quickly jumped back down to the ground when another loud gunshot filled the air. You heard the bullet colliding with flesh as the girl flinched violently and cried out again.

You heard a menacing male laugh fill the air, and you glanced down the alleyway to see where it came from.

There stood Niragi, holding his sniper rifle out towards you both with smoke protruding from the barrel of it. A psychotic grin was painted across his face and you swore you saw his eyes shine red.

“Why are you giving my poor love a hard time?! Maybe think twice before you put a bullet through my property,” he exclaimed, chucking and walking up to the girl giving her a harsh kick to the ribs.

You felt like you were about to throw up and hearing some of her ribs crack from the collision of her chest to his boot did not help your nausea.

You rubbed your eyes and pressed your forehead against the ground. You wanted to wake up, like this was all some bad dream. Before you knew it, you were silently sobbing on the floor, tears rolling out of your eyes and down your cheeks.

You felt two arms wrap around you, lifting you off the cold stone floor and into a warm chest. You winced and whined as the bullet wound in your foot shot a searing pain through your leg. Niragi shushed you quietly.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered, placing his cheek on top of your head.

His behaviour was giving you whiplash. One second ago he was acting like a maniac, shooting holes through a young girl, but now he was carrying you by under your knees and your shoulders, your head tucked into his neck.

You were exhausted, your body not even listening to you. You tried to move your leg to force yourself out of his grip but didn’t even have the strength to lift it. Your head was throbbing, and you could’ve passed out easily in his arms, but forced yourself to stay awake.

As Niragi walked past the lobby to get to the medical room, he attracted a few worried faces. Some even stood up to walk over and ask if you were okay. Everyone was terrified he had bad intentions with you, knowing how he was.

He ignored the few that approached both of you, rushing down the hall to escape them. He had to get there quickly so Ann could treat your bullet wound.

When he arrived, he pushed through the door harshly and called out to Ann with a worried tone. She stopped what she was doing and turned to the door to see Niragi holding you close to him protectively, blood dripping into the ground from your shoe.

“Shit, bring her here.” She gestured towards an empty table in the middle of the room. Niragi rushed over and placed you gently on the metal table, letting you lean your upper body against him.

Ann brought over some large tweezers, a cloth, disinfectant and a bandage. You flinched at the sight of the tweezers, moving to get away from her. “No, no!” you begged, trying to crawl up the table to get away, but Niragi grabbed your waist and pinned you against his chest.

“We have to get the bullet out Y/N, we can’t just leave it in there!” he argued, brushing your hair out of your face to calm you down.

You struggled against his grip as Ann held down your foot and carefully removed your shoe and sock. You looked down and saw a small hole in the top of your foot. How could such a small injury cause so much pain?

“Alright Niragi, keep her still. This is going to hurt,” Ann said shallowly, picking up the tweezers to try and remove the bullet.

“Yep.” You felt his grip on you tighten and he tucked his chin on your head. “Please just keep still Y/N, I’m here. It’s okay,” he cooed. His reassuring words didn’t do much to ease your anxiety.

Niragi turned your face so you were nuzzled into his chest. He knew that making you watch Ann take the bullet would do nothing but freak you out more, so he wanted to protect you from the sight.

You felt fine until the pain in your foot suddenly skyrocketed, making you let out a piercing scream. You bit your tongue to try and quieten yourself, but it didn’t do much.

Niragi frowned as he suddenly felt you go limp against him. He looked down at your face to see you had passed out, eyes shut tight and letting out soft breaths.

He smiled and brushed his fingers across your face. “So cute,” he mumbled.

“Well, that’s better. Maybe if we just knocked her out with a quick jab to the head, it would’ve saved us the headache of trying to keep her down,” Ann stated bluntly, causing Niragi to laugh.

“You know how this happened?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows.

“A bitch shot her just outside the hotel,” he said with an angry tone.

Ann didn’t seem surprised. Events like that occurred a lot. She had removed a lot of bullets the time she had been there.

“What happened to the girl? Did she run when she saw you?”

“I didn’t give her the chance to. She copped two bullets into her body for doing that to Y/N.”

“Did you think maybe Y/N was the one giving her a hard time?”

“Doesn’t matter. I only saw her shoot the bullet, nothing else.”

“Fair enough.”

***********

You cracked your eyes open to a room that most definitely wasn’t your own. You groaned and sat up, wincing when the pain in your foot shot through your leg. Memories of yesterday filled your head. “I must have passed out in the medical room,” you said to yourself.

You scanned the room. It was much bigger than yours. The bed you were in was three times the size of yours, and this room even had a huge balcony. As you looked around more, you noticed that a bag of your stuff was placed near the closet.

You frowned. Why was your stuff from your room here?

Suddenly the door opened to reveal Niragi, walking in with a plate of a bread roll and a bottle of water. He saw you awake and smiled.

“Aw little mouse is awake. How’s your foot?” he purred.

You cringed at the pet name. “What’s it to you, dickhead,” you growled, getting out of the bed and standing up. You were wearing the same clothes that you wore to the game yesterday, minus the shoes and the jacket.

Niragi smirked and placed the food on a small table in the centre of the room. “Have you forgotten who saved your pathetic ass yesterday?” he asked, approaching you. “And also, don’t stand on that foot. It’s injured, you have to rest it.” He pushed on your shoulder lightly to make you sit on the bed again. He sat himself next to you and leaned towards your face.

You moved away from his face, hating how close he was to you. “Yeah, but how did you know I even needed help? And don’t tell me you were just going on a short stroll through the alleyway at eleven at night,” you said, scooting up the bed and leaning your back against the wooden bedhead.

Niragi chuckled. “What if I was? Are you accusing me of stalking?” he suggested.

You shook your head. “Why is my stuff here,” you asked, changing the subject.

Niragi glanced over at the bag full of your stuff on the ground near the closet. He turned back to you with a smile on his face. “Oh yeah! I forgot to say, you’re moving in with me,” he said excitedly.

You felt your stomach drop. “What? I didn’t agree to this.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand again. You could only place pressure on one foot, so you stood on one leg.

“Oh, baby. I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re in here with me now, whether you like it or not,” he growled, reaching out towards you waiting for you to place your hand in his.

You stared at him, trying to see if he was joking or not. But from the serious look on his face, you didn’t think he was.

“I’m not staying in here with you. You’re a fucking psycho.”

You attempted to limp over to the door, wanting to escape Niragi as soon as possible. But you didn’t expect him to be so insistent on you staying.

A sudden arm around your waist spun your around and Niragi pinned you against the door, his face far too close to yours for it to be comfortable. “Did you not just hear me? You don’t get a choice love. You’re stuck with me,” he rasped into your face with a scary smile across his.

Your breath hitched and you turned your head away as he moved his face closer, trying to force his lips against yours. You felt helpless.

“Niragi please. Let me go, I’m sorry if I ever angered you,” you begged, pushing on his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “I promise if you let me go, we can go back to how we were in high school.” You were trying to do anything that would get him off you. Your heart was racing, and you were becoming more frightened by the second.

Niragi licked a long and slow stripe from your collar bone to the back of your ear. You cringed and sobbed at the feeling of his tongue and saliva on your skin. “Maybe I don’t want it like it was back then. Maybe I want more Y/N,” he whispered.

He tucked his face into your neck and nipped at your skin. He had your arms pinned either side of you and his leg was holding your good foot against the door. You couldn’t do anything to defend yourself.

“What have you become Niragi,” you sobbed after a short moment.

Niragi removed himself from your neck, leaning back to look at you. You stared into his eyes, seeing the same dark and beautiful orbs that used to make your heart race with love in high school, only now, they made your heart race with fear.

“I’ve become the real me Y/N, and you’re going to love me, whether you want to or not.”

[twiceasfrustrating]

To Have and Hold 3

Chapter: 1/2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Category: GN/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Relationships: Diavolo/GN!MC

Characters: Diavolo, Main Character

Tags for these chapters: Not Beta Read, Yandere, Kidnapping, No Happy Ending

Summary: Love drives some people crazy and some can't stand to go without. You thought you'd found the perfect boyfriend in Diavolo, one who loved you more than anything else in the world. And, well, you weren't exactly wrong, but it turns out that he's one of the ones that can't go without...

Word Count: 1506

You hadn't slept at all that night, afraid of what would happen the moment you did. You'd already been taken from your home, so you could only imagine what other things would happen the second you closed your eyes. The night had been filled with continuous tears, which turned into dry sobs that left your eyes burning until you no longer had the strength to even whimper.

The room was as much a mess as you had left it last night, if not more. At some point, you're sure you had thrown even more things across the room and even tried and failed to break the window and door, but you had gone into autopilot at some point and you couldn't remember everything you had done. All you knew was that nothing you did manage to make a single dent in this well-kept cage.

You were so tired…

So when a knock came at the door, you could just barely raise your voice to answer them, "Go away!" You weren't ready to see anyone again.

But you didn't get a say in such things, so Diavolo unlocked the door and let himself in. The look on his face was the most obvious upon entry; deep concern and worry.

He said nothing as he looked you over where you lay, noticing that your clothing was disheveled and bunched up in random places across your body. The random splotches of blue and purple and black that ran across your shoulders from where you'd tried to ram yourself against the walls shone like beacons in the night and made his stomach churn.

Slowly, as if you were a frightened rabbit caught in a trap that he didn’t want to scare worse than it already was, he approached with an outstretched hand. He didn't miss the way you flinched away from him, watching each of his movements with angry lidded eyes. You would be damned if you let him anywhere near you after everything he’d done. The memories of his smiling face as you and he spent hours in each other’s embrace felt so far away now that you’d seen this side of him.

You already had your pillow in hand, ready to throw it at his face if he got any closer than he already was. It wouldn’t hurt a normal human, let alone a demon like him, but you would be damned if you didn’t show him exactly how pissed off you were.

“You’re hurt,” was the only thing he could say as he stared at the bruise you had developed in his absence.

You couldn’t be bothered to dignify him with a response, instead looking just behind him where the door was still open and trying to determine if you could run fast enough to get past him.

Fuck it.

As soon as he took another step forward, you chucked the pillow directly at his face as hard as you could and dug your feet into the mattress, launching yourself from your toes and sprinting as quickly as you could toward the open door.

It was pathetic how little distance you made before his arms were around your waist, pulling you back toward him as if you hadn’t just thrown something at him. It was a pillow, sure, but you still managed to hit him with it and he wasn’t even stunned. It seemed all your little stunt had managed to do was get you trapped in a situation you didn’t want.

Diavolo’s grip tightened around you, pulling you close against him as he nuzzled his face into your neck. His fingers wandered up, pressing lightly against your bruise and making you jolt in his embrace, “Does it hurt?”

Like nothing else. It felt as if he was about to tear it from its socket just by touching it. You’d damaged it in ways you couldn’t imagine trying to break something to gain your freedom, but all you’d done was nearly break your own arm.

“You need to be more careful.” He rubbed two fingers against the sore spot in the same way he would rub your back when comforting your tears, but all he managed was to make more of them… or, at least, what you could since you were out of tears.

“I hate you,” was all you could say between gritted teeth, still staring at the open door just past him with fire in your eyes. It was so close. All you had to do was get to it.

“You don’t mean that.”

Except you meant every word.

“You’re tense.” He looked up at your face, watching where your eyes wandered and following them toward the door. His fingers clenched around you before loosening again, “Ah, I left the door open. Is it making you afraid?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered low and deep into your ear. His arms moved from your waist to resting just under your legs and lower back, picking you up bridal style before starting to move toward the door, “I’ll make sure to close it from now on.”

No.

Your eyes widened in panic, your breathing quickly speeding up as the thought of being trapped with him in a completely closed room overtook you. You pushed against him, trying to loosen his grip so you could squirm out of his grasp before he could close it.

Much like everything else, however, it was pointless. Like the cruel joke this entire situation was, he shut the door in front of you with his foot without even seeming to notice how you struggled. You almost wondered if he could hear your heart break because his eyes were suddenly trained on you again.

“There.” His smile was far too gentle and kind for all the horrible things he’d done, “Now there’s no reason to be afraid. I’ll be the only person going through that door.” He moved one hand up so his arm was supporting your upper back and rubbed his thumb against your cheek.

Your blood boiled deep inside of you. He had to know… he had to know exactly what he was doing. Behind that stupid charming smile he had to realize that what he was doing was awful. You couldn’t believe he was keeping you like this without knowing how he was spitting in your face at every turn.

“Put me down,” you speak with no emotion in your voice.

“Hm?”

“I said put me down.”

“But the ground is still-”

“Put. Me. Down.” You finally raise your voice, smacking him in the chest and trying to push away from him.

He hums for a moment before doing as you asked and setting your feet onto the ground. You don’t even think about what you’re doing before reaching up and smacking him as hard as you could across the face. All it did was make your hand hurt and paint him with shock; not because it hurt, but because he was surprised you’d done it. Even though you’d thrown other things at him so far, he couldn’t believe you had used your own hand to strike him.

More than that though, he saw how your bottom lip quivered and your angry eyes glared at him.

“Get out.” Your voice is harsh as you speak.

“My Love…”

“It’s bad enough you brought me here, but now you’re taunting me?” You crossed your arms in some kind of attempt to hold yourself together, “Either let me go home or get out because I don’t want to see you again.”

His eyes looked at you full of sadness and, perhaps in the past, that would have moved you, but you were too many hours into seeing the worst side of him and wanting nothing more than to wake up from this nightmare he had forced on you. Now your heart was growing hard and refused to give into him.

He reached out for you but you stepped away from him just as quickly.

“Now,” you clarify.

His fingers twitched slightly before he pulled his hand back, “You don’t mean that.”

“ NOW! ”

The room falls silent, only the sound of your and his breathing fading into the background. You don’t know how long you both stand there, staring one another down before you feel sick just looking at him and turn away.

“Just leave me alone…” You practically mutter, so low that even you could barely hear it.

You expected silence, but instead there was shuffling and the sound of glass clinking together. It went on for a while, but you refused to turn around to look at him.

Diavolo finally spoke after the noises ended, “If you want me to leave you alone, I will.”

Only once you heard the door close did you look back. He really was gone. Not just him though. The broken shards on the ground were gone as well, and some of the random objects you’d flung across the room were back in more orderly places. It wasn’t perfect, but it was cleaner than before.

[amerrierworld]

Babysitter (pt 10)

Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Summary: You and Tony have a discussion as Hela and Loki sneak around. 

Characters: Hela x fem!reader, Loki, Tony, Steve, Rhodey

Word Count: 1,813

Warnings: nothing? feels!

The New Avengers Facility was by far the most luxurious hideout you'd ever encountered. It was also incredibly large and perfect for aimless exploring. 

The Avengers, though concerned for you once you arrived, quickly lost focus of you as they began flitting about their machines and computers to see what the hell was happening around the world. 

You were given your own room, fully furnished with a well-stocked mini fridge. There was a camera situated outside by the door, so they’d know if you went in or out.

Normally you would’ve protested the house arrest, but you couldn’t be bothered suddenly. You were numb. 

The Facility was massive. It varied from small cozy lounge areas to large open spaces for training, meetings, and all sorts of experimental engineering. 

You were curled up in one of the tinier corners on a brown leather sofa. The rest of the place just seemed so pristine and neat and horrifically modern, no offense to Tony’s design tastes. There was a digital fireplace and heater, yet the 3D projection of the actual fire made it seem real. Only thing missing was the smell of burning wood. 

“Thought you’d have run off by now,” grunted a voice behind you. Tony had come into the lounge. You kept looking at the fire.

“I have no where else to go, Tony,” you said bluntly. Over the past few days you’d been reading up more and more from the news, contacting people you hadn’t talked to in ages. There were a few distant friends and relatives who’d been taken by the Blip, and your heart ached at the ones you hadn’t been able to see one last time. 

“Besides,” you sighed, breaking your gaze from the fire as Tony came to sit across from you, “none of you would have let me leave even if I really tried.”

He leaned back, stretching his body nonchalantly, and you noticed how weary  and thin he actually looked. Dark circles under his eyes, and his fingers seemed to be twitching or twiddling consistently.

“What happened to you?” you muttered. “Why do you look like shit?”

“Oh, you know,” he said, waving his hand, “spent some merry time in space, that’s all. Wasn't planning on being stranded there, but here we are.”

You didn’t ask anything else. Instead you got up, walked to the near sink and pulled out a kettle from the cupboards to make yourself some tea. 

“Okay, let me ask you a question,” Tony said in the silence, twisting in his seat to watch you, resting his head on the back of the sofa. “How on earth did you end up falling head over heels for a psycho?”

You snorted, grabbing a teabag and a mug, “you could ask Pepper the same thing.”

Tony clutched his chest in mock offence, “Ouch. Cold-hearted.”

Grinning, you steeped your tea, and turned around to look at Tony, “it’s not that simple, Stark.”

“No, I think it is,” he said.

“Well fine,” you sighed, slightly exasperated, “she was in my house with me alone, for days. At some point we ended up talking and actually getting to know each other. She opened up to me, and I to her and.. that was it.”

“And how do you know she wasn’t lying to get a way out?”

“She wasn’t. She’d never.”

“But how do you know? Wasn’t it you who always thought you had to give things time? She’s lived for thousands of years, Y/N. You’re a fruit-fly compared to her.”

“Why has this turned into an interrogation?” you snapped. He held up his hands, 

“I’m not interrogating. Just trying to understand.”

“Why did Jane fall in love with Thor, huh? At the time he was a ridiculous, self-absorbed and mindless God who didn’t know how the hell this world worked. Why did Pepper fall in love with you? A narcissistic millionaire playboy who loves to play games and doesn’t take anything seriously?”

You paced the floor as your tea cooled down, fuming,

“Why the hell does anyone fall in love with anyone, huh? Who gets a fucking say in how they feel? And why do you guys have so little faith in me to trust what I feel? I’ve kept secrets for you, I’ve hidden you in my home, I’ve been a part of so much secrecy, and suddenly when I get a little heart-eyed at someone, you act as if I’ve been brainwashed.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a moment. When you met his eyes, they were a little wider than before, looking at you questioningly. 

“In love, huh?”

You blinked.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Uh-huh, you did.”

“N-no, I didn’t, I said I-”

Your face became red, fumbling over your words.

Tony got up from his seat and clapped his hands as he sauntered over to the exit.

“Let’s go sparring, hm? Haven’t done that in a while,” he offered. You tried to cool your cheeks, forgetting about your tea steeping behind you.

“That’s cause I always lose,” you retorted. “You guys work out like your life depends on it. Which... it does.. I guess.”

“Yeah, but look at the state of me,” Tony spread out his arms and did a spin. “I’m feeling like trash. You’ll take me down no problem.”

You doubted that, but followed him anyways. 

-

“Ah, fuck!” Hela swore as another branch tugged at her helmet.

“Will you shut up?” Loki hissed, crouching down and peeking through the trees. “God, you’re even more infuriating than Thor!”

Hela was breathing heavily, aching, grumpy. 

“You really are a pain when you’re not around Y/N, aren’t you? You’re not going to massacre all the Avengers just because you’re peeved, right?”

“Be silent, filth,” she spat. Her brother only rolled his eyes. “What do you see?”

“I thought you wanted me to be silent.”

Hela whacked the back of his head and he grimaced, 

“Alright, alright. Look yourself, it’ll be hard to get in undetected.”

Hela peered over his shoulder. He was right; there wasn’t a lot of hiding spaces or shadows. Well-lit with open spaces, the modern-style building looked quite distasteful to Hela. She pulled a face, both in annoyance and disgust,

Loki chuckled, “I’m glad you hate it too.”

“Shut up,” Hela hissed, before scurrying off further into the trees to explore the perimeter. 

“Where are you- Hela!” Loki whispered hoarsely, hurrying after her. 

She was looking for weak spots, places with no cameras, a spot to sneak in. But she also had no idea where you were, and with the vastness of the buildings she worried if she’d even find you on time.

“Hela,” Loki hissed. She shushed him again, eyes searching the upper floors.

“Hela!” 

“What?”

“Look,” Loki pointed downwards. A little further in the distance outside, surrounded by well lit lights, stood you and that iron-armoured man, both with wooden sticks in your hands, the length of a short blade, thick enough to wrap your whole hand around it.

“Come on, let’s go back, before they see us,” Loki hissed, grabbing Hela’s shoulder. “At least we know she’s here.”

But Hela couldn’t move. You were wearing dark grey sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie, and sturdy boots. You looked tired, but were a vision to her. The man with you wasn’t wearing his armour, and suddenly looked a lot less threatening.

Loki watched, amazed, as his sister’s armour shimmered. The horns disappeared from her head and her cape faded until she was only in black, blending into the darkness.

She dared another step closer.

“Widen your stance,” the man said, waving the stick around. “Now try to attack.”

Hela watched you practice, your grip a bit clumsy and your stance a bit wobbly, but you were determined. She recalled the day she pulled a fork on you as a weapon, and winced a bit at the memory of the fearful, defenceless look in your eyes.

“Like that?” she heard you say, bending your knees and lowering your core.

“Good, but stay light on your feet, otherwise you can’t dodge.”

Your voice was like music to her ears, and hot tears prickled at her eyes. She missed you. So much.

“Stark, what the hell are you trying to do?” two more men had appeared. One blonde, and large, wearing a tight shirt and jeans. The other, dark, dressed in similar casual clothes.

“Gentlemen! Welcome to this exclusive defence lesson.”

“You’re by far the worst defence teacher out of all of us, Stark. Y/N won’t learn shit from you.”

“You wound me, Captain.”

Hela watched you shake hands with the other.

“Oh, Y/N, this is our friend Rhodey, also known as the War Machine.”

“Pleased to meet you, despite the.. unideal circumstances,” the newcomer shook your hand respectfully and flashed a smile. Hela flared with jealousy, and subconsciously bared her teeth.

“Easy,” Loki whispered.

The four of you paired up, you against Tony, but watching Captain’s instructions as he sparred with Rhodey. 

You were not held under lock and key, and Hela worried a moment. Did you go willingly with them after all? Did you forget about her? Was it foolish to even attempt a rescue?

Your laugh rang into the night as Rhodey tackled a distracted Steve, and both dread and joy filled Hela’s heart.

“Okay, try again,” Tony encouraged you. You swung at him a few times as he blocked and dodged. 

Then, you saw her in the darkness. A flash of green eyes, and Tony took your distraction to his advantage, swiping your leg from under you and you fell to the ground with a thud.

Hela nearly shot out of the tree line to protect you if Loki hadn’t stopped her. Then she heard a groan and chuckle coming from you,

“I told you I’d lose.”

“Don’t get distracted then, kiddo.” Tony held out his hand and hoisted you up. Hela growled at the camaraderie and slunk back in the shadows. “What were you looking at?”

He began to turn to follow your eyeline, and you paled,

“N-nothing! I- I was daydreaming.” He looked back at you.

“Not a good idea to daydream while fighting, Y/N,” Steve said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m not used to this, you know?”

“It’s about time you were taught,” Tony clapped your shoulder. 

“You want to learn anything from the War Machine himself?” Steve asked, nodding at Rhodey.

“Oh, I-I’d love to. But, maybe tomorrow?” you suggested, desperately trying to avoid looking at Hela in the distance. “I’m quite.. tired.”

The men seemed to agree and chatted as they headed back into the building. Tony swiped at Steve as they walked, who promptly tugged the sparring stick from him. 

You hurriedly looked around into the darkness, wanting to see another glimpse, hoping you didn’t imagine it. But when you couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, you worried if you really had gone insane.

Steve called after you, and your heavy feet carried you back inside to settle for the rest of the night.

A/N: Life is fucking INSANE. only a few chapters left for this!! Don’t ask me about the timeline alterations because me trying to make sense of the canon and trying to make it all fit is making my brain explode!! I hope you like it, love you all!!! Stay safeee

tag list: @midnight-lestrange​ @cheerfullyvenomous @germansarechill @gaylorrds @amii-nyc @waitingfortheendtocome @novakitten0901 @marvels-writings @jadewestwriter​ @thisisanexistentialcrisis​

[auspicious-lilana]

Two Cats, One Heart (Chat Noir x reader)

Summary: Y/n Ross and Adrian Agreste are childhood best friends, they’ve been through thick and thin, including losing their mom, and dad. Since then Y/n’s mom made her live with Adrian at his mansion and forever leaving her life. Watch as their lives Change as they become the new heroes of Paris alongside Ladybug and see how Romance sprouts between the two models.

Part 1 |  Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7  | Part 8

Warnings:  It’s a bit long hehe? 

"And now I'm pretty sure Chat doesn't like me the same way I like him." I finished explaining everything to him.

Adrian and I were sitting on my couch, Alpha in the coffee table in front of us munching away his brownies.

"What makes you think that?" Adrian asked.

"For one, besides the usual flirt banters, He didn't show anything that could give me a hint that he likes me back."

"I think he does like you."

"How do you know?" Adrian seemed a bit stuck, looking around for an answer.

"Since you've been pretty honest with your secret, I guess I can't keep mine without feeling guilty." Adrian sighed.

"What secret?" I got more confused as he took out a piece of cheese. "Wait, is that what you kept reeking of?"

"Yes, It's the only thing he eats, every single time." I got more confused.

"Who's he?"

"How much longer are you going to play dumb?" Alpha asked while chewing as I cringed. "He means his kawami, Plagg."

"First of all, Don't talk while you eat. I thought I told you that a hundred times Alpha." I scolded before turning to Adrian before it dawned on me as I saw a little black cat attached to the cheese in his hand. "If you have a kawami then it'd mean you're..."

"Yes," Adrian nodded. "I'm Chat Noir." I felt myself blushing, realizing I had just rambled about my crush on Chat Noir...to Chat Noir!?

"You...I...Wait, that explains why you're always going near my locations to change back." I remembered. "Who knew,"

"I thought you were planning to try and sneak a peek at my identity." Adrian chuckled. "But you were just trying to get home too."

"So...When you said Chat Noir likes me back..." I looked to my side, trying to hide my blush.

"Yes, I meant I liked you too, a lot."

"Hey, Plagg. I got a little spot I hide whenever these two get all lovey-dovey, wanna eat there?" Alpha offered, noticing Plagg's disgust.

"Don't have to ask me twice." The two kawami's made their way out as Adrian and I rolled our eyes.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"Well, this is normally the part where we umm, we...kiss." We inched closer to each other as he grabbed my arm to lead me closer to his face, I looked to admire his features, fluttering my eyes shut as we touched lips.

"This counts as us now Girlfriend and Boyfriend, right?" I whispered.

"Of course."

***

"Agent Smith, It's too dangerous! We must evacuate!" Adrian exclaimed as he and Mylène were crouching behind the teacher's desk, water guns in hand.

Our class was filming a movie for a project and Adrian and Mylène were the voted leads. I was going to be the lead girl but I wanted to work behind the scenes, so I play the role of the Assistant Director, while also Mylène's understudy if anything were to happen.

"You're suggesting we run, Officer Jones?" Mylène asked with a determined look. "After it devoured my family, my friends, and even my beloved dog, Sniffles?" She dramatically stood up. "Never! I won't run! I no longer fear it, I'm going to face it, then I'll-" Ivan loomed over as scripted with a monster mask, roaring as best as he could as Mylène broke character and screamed in fear, hiding under the table as Adrian and I looked at her worried.

"Sorry, Mylène." Ivan apologized, taking the mask off.

"Mylène! That's like, the tenth take." Nino scolded, frustrated as he rubbed his forehead. "And we're only on the first scene!"

"Fourteenth actually." Alix corrected, holding up a count from her seat in the back. "But who's counting."

"Ughh..."

"I'm...sorry." Mylène apologized, getting out from under. "I'm gonna do better on the next take, I promise." Juleka was reapplying blush, fixing Adrian's look.

"Anyone want some tea?" Rose offered, holding a portable kettle.

"You're playing a hero from the special forces. You're not supposed to get all freaked out!" Nino lectured.

"I know, but...that monster mask he's wearing is so...realistic and scary!"

"Just big ol' me, Mylène." Ivan stuck his fingers through the eyes of the mask, show how harmless it was. "Nothing to be scared of."

"You ask me, he doesn't even need a mask," Chloé said, laughing with Sabrine as I frowned at her.

"Does it hurt you to be a little bit nicer, Chloé?" I asked.

"Ivan, put the mask back on, you're playing the monster!" Nino demanded. "And Mylène, we need you to stay in character!" Ivan put the mask back on, causing Mylène to get scared.

"I need to sing my happy song, it always makes me feel better." Mylène took a deep breath as she began singing to herself, slowly stepping back. "Smelly Wolf, Smelly wolf." I felt Alpha scoff from my pocket, muttering his offense at her song. "stinky breath and slimy--" She bumped into Adrian, suddenly jumping back, shrieking in fear.

"And the Oscar for the best pathetic scaredy-cat afraid of its own shadow goes to...Mylène!" Chloé laughed, making Mylène feel worse as Adrian looked at her, disappointed.

"Chloé, seriously?" Adrian asked.

"Yeah, so what?" Mylène ran out of the classroom, crying.

"Mylène!" Marinette shouted. "Anyone gonna go after her?" Ivan ran after Mylène, calling out her name as he took the mask off.

"Epic, Chloé! Just Epic!" Nino sarcastically exclaimed. "What are we supposed to do now without our leading actress?"

"Who needs her, anyway?" Chloé scoffed. "She was totally lame!"

"You're lame!" Ivan shouted, coming back in. "Mylène is crying her eyes out on the bathroom thanks to you!"

"Me, Lame?"

"Hey, Hey!" I came in. "Fighting over this isn't going to get this film done any quicker, We'll find a way to get this done by tonight!"

"As a producer, I'll make sure of it too!" Marinette agreed.

"The Deadline for the Parisian Student Short Film Festival is tomorrow evening, precisely 26 hours, 15 minutes and 14, 13 seconds from now." Max clarified.

"Thank you, Max." I smiled.

"And we still have editing, post-sound, soundtrack..." Marinette listed.

"And who's gonna take Mylène's part?" Adrian asked.

"Um, me of course!" Chloé got up from her seat.

"You haven't even read the script!" Alya argued.

"Of course I have! The first scene anyway, I can even tell you that it ends with a kiss between Agent Smith and Officer Jones!" Chloé batted her eyes at Adrian as he pleadingly looked over at me as I moved next to Nino.

"As Mylène's understudy, I'm the one who's supposed to take her place if anything were to happen. Remember?" I reminded Nino.

"Right." Nino nodded as Marinette screaming, looking at Alya.

"You wrote that?!" She shrieked.

"Hold up!" Alya exclaimed skimming through her script again. "I didn't write that!"

"Uh...I wrote that." Nino admitted. "It was just a little tweak. You know, to move the story forward."

"What! You edited my script without even telling me!" Alya gripped onto the collar of Nino's shirt. "That's low."

"Wait a minute! You mean our script!" Nino argued, removing her hands as Adrian and I sighed before Rose came up to us.

"Juice?" We gratefully took a cup.

"Thanks, Rose." Adrian thanked.

"Guys, it doesn't matter who did anything, we have a film to get done by tonight." I reasoned.

"she's right," Max said. "Principal Damocles is only allowing us to use the school until 6 p.m. sharp. Which leaves us 9 hours, 12 minutes, and 12 seconds. 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6..."

"Adrian and Y/n kissing cannot happen! No way!" Marinette hissed at Alya quietly, as so nobody could hear.

"It makes no sense story-wise anyway." Alya shrugged. "The main character's emotional journey-"

"Hold on!" Marinette ran over to Adrian. "We can't let Mylène just leave just like that! It's...wrong!  We all chose her to play the leading female role! And...we're all in this movie together! She needs our support. I'm gonna go find her and bring her back."

"Always trying to save the day, aren't you, Marinette?" Chloé mocked.

"Wait," I said, holding her arm. "I'll go, you're the producer, you're needed here." I left before she could say anything more, missing the satisfied look on her face.

{Third POV}

"Nice going, Miss Producer." Nino sarcastically remarked. "Now we have no lead again!"

"Yeah, but now we'll be able to go look for our real lead!" She argued, hiding her intentions of just wanting to keep Adrian kissing Y/n out of jealousy.

"I told you. Tick tock, there's no time! We need a lead now!"

"Marinette can do it!" Alya exclaimed as Adrian got uncomfortable at the thought of kissing a different girl.

"What?! No! I can't act. I'm... the producer." Marinette started furiously blushing.

"But you wanna kiss Adrien, don't you?" Alya whispered to her as Marinette glanced at Adrian who mentally hoped Y/n can get back in time.

{Y/n's POV}

"Mylène!" I called out as I entered the Bathroom. "Mylène?!" I looked to see nobody was there, missing the monster feet in one of the stalls as I noticed the mirror was covered in some sort of slime.

"Wow," Alpha gasped, peeking out from my pocket to take a look. "I knew you girls were disgusting in terms of love, but I didn't think you guys were that disgust- hey!" I glared at the little wolf, shoving him back in my pocket with a finger.

"She isn't here." I noticed, "Didn't Ivan said she'd be in the bathroom? This is the only girl's bathroom in this half of the school, she should be here."

"I think that slime might have something to do with this."

"I can't find her on my own, I'll have to get the others to help look for her. I have a feeling crying wasn't the only thing she was doing in here."

"Wow, the best idea ever!" Alpha sarcastically praised. "Not like it was the only choice you had!" I shoved him back down my pocket as I had an eerie feeling as I ran back to the classroom.

"Guys!" I shouted, seeming to have boast through the door right before Marinette could kiss Adrian, who was trying to prolong the kiss as long as he could, relieved at my interruption as Nino shouted Cut. "Mylène isn't in the bathroom, we need to find her. I think something might be going on- wait, Where's Max and Kim?" Right as I asked, we heard two screams. "Did you all hear that?"

"Loud and clear." Adrian nodded.

"We better scope this out," Marinette said as everyone ran to the source of the scream.

"A fruity snack for the road?" Rose offered.

Nino began recording them, following me as I noticed something on the floor.

"Hey! Anybody here?" Adrian shouted. "Kim! Max! Where are you guys?!"

"Wait, I felt like I saw the same pink goo...the bathroom!" It finally clicked as Adrian came up to me, picking up the armband covered in goo.

"That's Kim's!" He exclaimed.

"They vanished!" Nathaniel began panicking.

"Or they're playing a sick joke on us." Alya scoffed.

"We should go to Principal Damocles's office and tell him what's going on!" Marinette declared, She then noticed Nino was filming everything. "Nino, come on! Stop Filming!"

"Not a chance! This is just getting good!" I took the chance to slip away from the class quietly.

{Third POV}

Adrian had tried to slip away with Y/n but soon got caught by his best friend.

"Yo, Adrian!" Nino called out.

"I left Officer Jone's jacket back there!" He quickly came with an excuse. "Should probably wear it in all the scenes." Nino nodded as the rest of the students went upstairs, Adrian already running back into the empty classroom which Y/n had already snuck into the other way.

Neither noticing the Horrificator Akuma, a slimy monster start gooing the entire school roof, doors, and windows to keep them shut-in.

"This is the first time transforming with another person in the room." Y/n admitted, feeling a bit nervous and awkward for some reason.

"Then we better get used to it." Adrian winked.

"Hey, your Chat side is already showing!" Y/n pointed out as Alpha and Plagg came out from their pockets.

"Y/n, Darling." Alpha calmly called out. "I never ask you to hurry up and transform, it isn't me. but right now, I'm begging you to just transform. I can't stand this lovey scene." Y/n scoffed.

"So um," Adrian awkwardly shifted before he took off his right shoe. "Guess we should first make them think we've vanished."

"Good idea." Y/n nodded her head, reaching to take off her hairpin, throwing it to make it seem like she was struggling as it came off, Adrian doing the same after showing Plagg his shoe, making the small black cat cringe.

"You say I stink of Camembert," Plagg said.

"I mean, you both do." Y/n pointed out as Adrian gave her a look before sighing.

"Plagg, claws out!"

"Alpha, Tails out!"

***

The rest of the students were going into the Principal's office, looking inside to see pink goo around.

"Even Mr.Damocles isn't around," Rose said, worried as Marinette stood outside the door, making sure nobody was looking back before she took out her phone, dropping it on the floor as she ran into the library.

"Time to transform." She quickly said to her little kawami, Tikki. "Tikki, Spots on!"

***

"Anyone seen Agent Smith- I mean Y/n?" Nino asked. "And Marinette too?" They ran out of the office, Alya stopped to see her phone on the floor.

"Oh no," Alya gasped. "This is Marinette's phone."

They soon walked around the entire school, checking the ceiling, windows, doors, to see a pink goo covering them shut.

"We're trapped!" Chloé exclaimed before taking out her phone. "I'm going to call Daddy!"

"Dudes, you know cellphones never work in horror movies." Nino reminded, still filming everything.

"No bars..." Ivan said, checking his phone.

"No coverage!" Nathaniel sadly said along.

"Told you so!" Nino got excited. "Boo-yah!"

"Is everything okay?" Ladybug asked, appearing at the door.

"Ladybug in my movie? This is legit!"

"And on my Ladyblog!" Alya started filming too.

"We've got to calmly evacuate the building, okay everyone?" Ladybug ordered. "

"Easier said than done, Ladybug," Chat said as he and Lady Wolf came jumping down, landing next to Ladybug.

"The place is covered in pink goo, nothing can come in or out." Lady Wolf added.

"Triple Legit!" Nino exclaimed.

"Lady Wolf in the flesh!" Maya grinned, taking her phone out. "This I can't miss, my viewers are gonna eat this up."

"We tried to cut through the goo, but it's no good." Chat Noir explained. "Totally indestructible. So looks like we're trapped inside the school for now. Just stay put and try to relax, guys."

{Y/n's POV}

"Let's talk for a bit," I suggested as Chat and I led Ladybug to the corner of the office, out of the student's sound range.

"We know that Hawkmoth's taken another innocent victim somewhere in this school." Chat said.

"And there's only one way to get rid of the goo and get everyone out of here," Ladybug added.

"And that's to capture the Akuma like always,"

"Exactly." Chat flirtatiously grinned at me. "I love it when you read my mind."

"Ugh," Ladybug playfully groaned, already used to the usual flirty banters of her partners. "But we better find this thing first, and it's prisoners." Before they could say another word, they soon had Nino right behind them, filming them.

"Don't mind me." Nino quickly said. "finding the missing peeps and solving this crazy mystery with Chat Noir, Ladybug, and Lady Wolf...This movie's gonna be so swank!"

"Stay together, right behind us." Ladybug said, walking away before grabbing Nino's arm, pulling him towards her. "Means you too, Spielberg."

***

We were following the trail of pink goo, not noticing Sabrina and Chloé leave their group, running off to hide elsewhere.

We entered the classroom Adrian and I had transformed in, Ladybug noticing Adrian's shoe and my hairpin.

"There!" She exclaimed, picking it up.

"Anyone recognize this shoe and pin?" Chat asked, playing dumb.

"That's Adrian's shoe," Nino exclaimed.

"And that's Y/n's pin, she never goes anywhere without it!" Maya pitched in.

"That's weird." Ladybug said. "There's no pink slime here."

"Yes, there is." Nathaniel pointed out the slime on the desk, kneeling before he got grabbed by a slimy tentacle.

The other students started to step in fear as Nathaniel started panicking. Juleka being the only one who was more awed by the slimy monster than scared.

"Everybody run!" Ladybug shouted as they all ran out of the room, Nino remaining by Chat's side to record and Juleka staying put near the door, admiring the monster which grew larger.

"Awesome." Juleka grinned, the monster roared at Juleka as she seemed a bit taken back before grinning. "So Awesome." I noticed the height difference, it's power. He shrunk when Jeluka wasn't scared?

It spits goo at Juleka but I quickly grabbed her arm and took her out of the classroom before it could touch her.

"Eww!" Chat exclaimed. "What's your name, Drool-lator?" The monster spits goo at him but he spins his staff to avoid any touching him before swinging his staff to remove the slime. "Cats aren't afraid of slimy toads like you."

"We better hurry and find our where that Akuma is hiding!" I exclaimed.

"I don't see anything," Chat exclaimed as they dodged a slime, jumping down the stairs as the students hid in the corner, watching them. "Just miles of slime!" The monster looked at the fear in the kids, growing in size, confirming my suspicions thoughts.

"Fear!" I suddenly shouted, catching Ladybug and Chat's attention. "It grows from fear!" Ladybug ducked tying a yoyo around its leg to a pole as Chat tried to land a hit before he got slimed into the wall, I gasped, going in from behind before getting caught to the wall as well.

The monster then grabbed the yoyo string, pulling in Ladybug before sliming her onto the basketball hoop.

The monster turned and grew as everyone screamed, it approached the class, recognizing Ivan, affectionately licking, grabbing Nathanial (who was released during the fight) and Alix, jumping away.

"Oh no! It took Nath and Alix!" Rose exclaimed. (A/n: No way! what a shock! Not like we just witnessed it happening.)

They soon managed to get out the slime, running to a door to see it was slimed shut.

"Did you see how it only left Ivan alone?" Ladybug mentioned.

"Yeah," Chat agreed. "What's that all about?" I thought about it before remembering what happened earlier, the goo in the bathroom, Mylène's long disappearance.

"The monster has to be Mylène!" I exclaimed. "She was the first to disappear...from what I heard..." I quickly covered up.

"Where are Sabrina and Chloé?" Alya asked, running up to the teen heroes with the small group of students behind her, Nino still recording.

"We'll find them, don't worry." Ladybug reassured. "If we can find a way out of here..." They soon heard Chloé's screams and ran up the stairs, pushing through the doors as something seemed to have been blocking the front of, they looked around to see nothing but a trail of slime.

"We're too late!" Chat exclaimed.

"But look!" I said, pointing to the trail. "We can still follow it!" I lead the group as we were led to a dark workshop.

"I'm so amped!" Nino exclaimed, recording as I was about to open the door before we turned to Nino with a frown.

"Turn your amp down to about 4, will ya?" Chat asked.

"My bad...." Nino sheepishly chuckled as we stood on our guard, slowly opening the door, walking into the cellar, looking at the large blobs of slime.

"Anybody in here?" Ladybug asked, her voice ringing in the room.

"Ladybug, it's me, Chloé Bourgeois!" Chloé cried out.

"Don't worry! We'll get you out!"

"Well, hurry it up!"

"Is everybody here?!" Ladybug, Chat, and I went around, trying to get a count of everyone. "Mr.Damocles."

"Present!"

"Alix?"

"Yeah!"

"Nathanial?"

"Here!"

"Adrian?!" Ladybug started to panic at the silence as Chat froze, "ADRAIN?!" Chat quickly hid behind a goo pod.

"Yeah, Yeah, I'm fine!" He exclaimed. "What about uh Y/n?" I glared at Chat for mentioning my name for everything.

"Y/n?" Ladybug repeated, I hid behind a corner.

"Oh um! I'm here too!" I quickly shouted. "How about Marinette?"

"Yeah! Yeah! We got everyone!" Ladybug exclaimed, tugging on the Goo Pods. "Ugh! they won't budge!"

"Get us out!"

"I can't stay here!"

"Help!"

"Everyone! Try to calm down!" I shouted before a giant slime went past us, covering the door we came in from, the monster jumping down in front of us.

"Okay, now this is getting scary." Ladybug admitted.

Chat distracted it throwing pieces of the goo at it as it tried to attack him, giving Ladybug time to use her powers.

"Lucky Charm!" Guitar strings dropped to her hands. "Guitar strings? Are you kidding me?"

"How would...Mylene's song...." I exclaimed. "Ever heard of Smelly wolf?" I asked Ladybug as she nodded, catching on. While Ladybug used her vision to gather the things needed to make temporary instruments, Chat used his powers to the bars rusted and trap the monster in its place.

"Okay, we're all going to sing!" Ladybug announced, strumming her fingers to the strings attached to a broom and bucket.

"Sing?" Chat asked, jumping down to us. "That's your plan?"

"The only way to get through this to get your fear under control. You all know Smelly Wolf, don't you?"

"Seriously? Smelly Wolf?"

"Care to join us?" I asked, blowing into a pipe to warm up a tune. Chat grinned, making a drum set out of pots and trashcan lids.

They began singing to the monster, their fears slowly going away as the monster shrunk shorter and shorter before it turned cute bite-size, no longer terrifying.

They all walked up to it as it looked up at the students, jumping into Ivan's arms.

"That's the same button I gave to Mylène!" Ivan gasped.

"That's where the Akuma is!" Ladybug exclaimed, taking the pin as she did her thing, breaking the pin. " No more evil-doing for you, little Akuma. Time to de-evilize!" She let it go as it turned into a pretty white butterfly. "Bye-bye, little butterfly." She threw the strings to the air. "Miraculous Ladybug!"

The energy from her power goes around, getting rid of the slime and shifting everything back to normal as the monster turned back into Mylène.

"Pound it!" the three of us exclaimed, fist-bumping before deadpanning as Nino, who surprisingly still was recording came up to us.

"Awesome." He muttered.

***

The movie playing ended with Mylène and Ivan kiss as Nino wore a confident grin, sure he had it in the bag.

"Well, Mr. Mayor. What do you think?"

*** {Third POV} ***

"We didn't make the cut!" Nino complained to the rest. "He said the monster was a horrible replica! Completely unbelievable! No joke!"

"Don't worry, Bud." Adrian placed the hand he wasn't holding Y/n's hand on his shoulder. "This is how all good movie directors start out."

"Learn from mistakes right?" I pitched in.

"Yeah, even if that final wasn't quite what we thought it would be." Alya said, giving Marinette a side glance, the girl was too distracted at looking horrifedly at the intertwined hands of the two models.

"H-hey, anything going on between you two?" Marinette nervously laughed.

"Yeah." Alya thought about the day. "You two have been awfully closer lately."

"We're uh.. Dating?" Adrian got flustered, looking away with a shy smile, neither noticing the heartbroken look on Marinette

"No. Way. Since when?!"

"Around a week ago?" Y/n thought about it.

"I have to go." Marinette ran off, Alya following after.

"I wonder where they're going in a rush?"

"Who knows." Nino shrugged. "But dude, why didn't you tell me? I thought were best buds?"

"It didn't come up."

"What got you to suddenly into each other?" the two looked at each other, chuckling.

"It's a long story,"

Leave some feedback! Have a nice night!/Day/Evening! 

[partnersatfazbear]

Fazbear Frights: What We Found Analysis

Here’s my analysis for What We Found, the third story in Gumdrop Angel. I wrote this as I read so it may be a little different than my previous analysis where I read the story first and went back.

If you’re a Michael Afton fan I highly recommend this. Also, there’s possibly some insight into William Afton, Mrs. Afton, and Henry too, so it’s worth a skim.

Pg 144 '...a place thirty-some years forgotten' Just reconfirming FNAF 3 is 30 years past *one* of the FNAF closings, presumably FNAF 2 location.

Pg 145 "The whole building was giving him [Hudson] a headache." FIX THE VENTILATION BRUH

Pg 148 '...they were able to use salvaged derelict equiptment original to the old pizzerias.' Another confirmation of something we heard from Phone Guy.

Pg 147 "How old are you?" "Twenty-three, same as you." I think this gives us Michael's age during FNAF 3.

EDIT: This kept me awake last night. Obviously this is impossible because he has to be alive for at least 10 years before 1983, BUT maybe its just reconfirming FNAF 3′s year? 2023?

Pg 149 "Hudsan's dad died and his mom married Lewis, a ridiculous balding man who wore plaid vests and smoked a pipe" Did... Did this book just seriously imply Mrs. Afton left William for Henry? Really? (Yes, there's differences; the husband is dead and the man wears plaid 'vests' but it seems very odd to include that detail. This could just have been the writer's own imagination, though.) I have seen this as a fan theory and 100% explains the jealousy aspect of William, but I can't help but kinda hate it. I think this is very important, though, and probably Scott's intention. "This horrible little man [Lewis]... would make Hudson's next ten years a living Hell" This REALLY intrigues me given the context I just went over. The text implies Lewis was fairly neglectful to our main character / Michael stand-in Hudson. Maybe I'm wrong and for some reason Mrs. Emily left and went to William? XD Haha, I'm reading too much into this page. Maybe I'll come back to this later. I figure it's more of Scott possibly including double-details (contradicting stuff with the same character that really applies to two, which has been something I heavily pointed out in previous anaylsis on this blog) Having said that, I'm going w/the former because I can't imagine Henry being abusive (neglectful yes, abusive no) and he's never been portrayed that way in official works like William has in the novels.

Pg 150 "Hudson began to screw up in class...a product of spending the night in fear that his stepfather [Lewis]... [would] beat him just for the fun of it." Ooof. Big confirm on William actually being abusive. Unless we stick with the Henry theory for Lewis (combined with Midnight Motorist Henry theory / alcoholic). "...near-daily beatings..." "his mom started taking pills to get through the day..." So, whoever Mrs. Afton is, she was definetly not paying attention. But then, most people married to serial killers either don't notice because of denial (like this) or because the killer is so manipulative / careful they can't notice.

"Barry, who had red hair and freckles..." Yo?! Is that a description of Fritz?! These friends in the story could be the other kids Michael knew's stand-in's, aka the two gravestones with names he used (Fritz and Jeremy), as shown in the checks for the games and FNAF 6. I've long figured Michael was probably friends with the victims--it makes them easier, although riskier, targets [for William]. The two friends are male, too, like Fritz and Jeremy. If you're curious about Duane's description (our stand in for Jeremy), it's "tight black shirt... muscles... black hair long enough for a glossy ponytail..." I'm not sure if this matches anything found in the novels or contradicts them, though. (The novels = TSE trilogy)

"And so it went... until the night of the fire." For context, this is before FF burns down. We're learning of Hudson's life from his close friends in childhood, his father's death, his mother remarrying, to his abusive stepfather, to his grades slipping to this line. This would be a new fire not seen/mentioned in the games...

Pg 151 "...go to Charlie's for a sundae..." Really. Really Scott. Just gonna use this name again. OK. I'm not even gonna discuss this because it's probably irrelevant. *This is confirmed on pg 158 to be an ice cream shop. No lore relevance aside the annoying name coincidences Scott loves to troll with.

"This is not... an advance into enemy territory, a fight with demons, or a descent into Hell..." Uh, what? What is Hudson talking about? XD I'm only noting it because it seems so out of place. He's probably talking about video games or something.

Another note, although I don't have a specific reference since it is mentioned off-hand many times, is that Hudson keeps referring to his "history" which is implied to have kept him from getting a well-paying job and a girl he's crushing on doesn't know this "history" which is good for him. Seems good old "Michael Stand-In" has done some jail time or something. Edit: On pg 154/155 the girl asks Hudson, "Did you do it?" Seems he may have killed his stepfather or been involved with something else just as bad. Edit 2: No, I was thinking too deep into it. This probably refers to Evan's death at Fredbear's. DUH.

Pg 156 describes an actual "prize corner" in FF! What am I even reading? IIRC this is in FNAF 3, too. So they just hand out these scary gift boxes to people that complete the attraction? (Hudson says he *would* have fun handing out the scary toys to kids when this location opens--kind of a bully thing to do, eh?)

"[Hudson] avoid[ed] glancing in any of the mirrors..." I'm only pointing this out because it could be reference to one of two things. 1) We know because of one of UCN's music tracks, William has a fear of his reflection. Michael probably shares this trait, especially since 2) after Ennard and all... and later on pg 157 it also says, "he never wanted to face: himself" Sounds like guilt, my guy.

Pg 157 "blonde hair... blue eyes..." Hudson shares an eye color with Michael. It's possible Michael had blonde hair as a child and it changed to brown (it's common, something I personally went through being technically blonde/ blue eyed myself)

"He [Hudson] knew from personal experience that toys could turn from fun...to torture ina heart-beat" Fairly self explanatory. Either Hudson's worked at a creepy location before or he doesn't like remembering Fredbear's.

*checks how much is left.* There's still 35 pages (not counting back/front) left of this... This is gonna be a lot of notes.

Pg 158 Hudson doesn't have a car. Poor Mike, probably having to walk everywhere. Especially as a corpse.

Pg 160 This page describes many physical issues Hudson has that prevents him from entering the Navy, all from the abuse of Lewis. Obvious paralell to Michael becoming an undead [because his father sent him to CBPR indirectly causing his condition]

Pg 161 "How's your granny, Hud?... ...Is she still alive?" "I don't think she can die." Does anyone in the Afton family really 'die'? XD

Pg 162 These few pages discuss Hudson's grandmother. She's described as "a seer who claimed to know the future... ...wore big men's plaid flannel shirts with baggy jeans" Um, more plaid / flannel? AGH. STAHP. Lowkey, I would totally headcanon my Aunt Jen like this, though.

Pg 163 "Hudson's mom... the way she was before Hudson's dad had died... never... particularly warm and fuzzy... but... effiencient and responsible..." More about Mrs. Afton, so that's kinda neat.

"Hudson's dad was fun and attentive." There's a good Dad in this series?

"Unfortunetly, he also struggled with mental illness." "invisible low points" (Pg 164) Kinda reminds me of how Henry is described after Charlotte's death in the books.

Pg 164 "When Steven got himself into a bad deal that cost him his small business... he'd taken his life." Oh, it is Henry! SMH. Way to use confusing paralells. So, from our understanding thus far, Hudson's real father, Steven, is our Henry stand-in. His step-father despite being described similar to Henry, is actually our William stand-in. Fair game, Scott.

Pg 164 "...he [Hudson] was locked into a supply closet..." Oh shit, you guys. So, let me go on a tangent here, because this IS important! I just watched a retrospective on Sister Location and FNAF 6 earlier and one theory for Midnight Motorist was the person in the chair was the mother and the kid was Michael. I think this little line may confirm that. In fact, the story may be the key to figuring things out. Obviously, the line is a paralell to FNAF 4's scene in which Crying Child was locked in the supply closet of Fredbear's. I know some people, including Matpat, believe[d] CC was Michael, and in this book's context, it sort of works. This does contradict Step Closer and 1000 other things that make Michael the older brother, but maybe it's hinting at MM? Abusive stepdad (possibly Henry... maybe William is gone at this point), checked out Mom (hey, grey couch lady with Foxybro's font). IDK, but its definetly something to think about.

Pg 165 Lewis is mentioned as calling Hudson "nothing" and saying "you're nothing" on several occasions on this page. Just more abuse, for those accurate fanfic writers like me. Also I kinda wanna watch Morel Orel again. Yall know my fav character is Clay. Yall know.

"You're smoke." <-- Lewis / The text later reads, "...there was some irony, given what eventually happened." BRUH. Why did your stepdad die in a fire? :V TELL ME.

"When his family's house burned down at the end of his senior year..." Huh. Is there a fire we don't know about in the game-verse? Could this explain what happened to the FNAF 4 house before MM house?!

"...it purged Hudson of Lewis and his mother." MRS. AFTON BURNED ALIVE, TOO? Bruh. I can't with this story.

The text later describes the fire is concluded to be man-made and Hudson was blamed for it. Can't say if this ties to Michael, but it IS interesting... TBF, there is a small paralell to draw between Henry in FNAF 6 and his history of suicide in the books, too.

Pg 166 "...this place's [FF] busted thermostat.." I just find this line funny.

Pg 167 "...after three weeks of keeping an eye on the place" Some more timeline context for FNAF 3. We know that Michael worked there a little while before we start playing the game thanks to one of the phone calls, IIRC, so this makes sense. If Michael was accused of [something] and also wanting to hunt down his father, then it makes perfect sense why he's working a dead end job at Freddy's over and over and over. Fun fun fun.

Pg 169 "He hated to think about a functional character [Foxy]" This line is in regards to Hudson not liking the set up of Pirate's Cove and Foxy's hook to scare people. Sounds familiar, don't it? (For Michael anyway.)

Pg 173 "Some big find is arriving tomorrow." SPRINGY BOI! COME ON BOOK, get on with the show?

Pg 176 "Granny was wearing a red-and-green plaid shirt and her baggy jeans." Nothing special, but it was specifically brought up twice. I'm kind of racking my brain trying to understand what the point of this character is outside of "woooo everything is haunted don't you know that" kind of character.

Pg 180 "...dropped the crate on the linoleum with a resounding thud." HEY. Poor Springtrap, just gettin' tossed around like the trash he is.

Pg 186 "If you weren't so stupid, I'd tell you more about it." Springtrap bringing the burn. =:)

"A voice with a burr-like rasp...hint of a Southern accent" I'm going to assume this is because it's Lewis probably in the suit in this story and not our old British lad.

"It's was Mr. Atkin's voice." THE MATH TEACHER? *goes back to check* 'The algebra teacher'. Okay...

Pg 190 Okay, so Hudson hear's Lewis' voice this time. Okay, I get it now. Springtrap in this kind of imbodies all of Hudson's old bullies, including the teacher. He also has PTSD, just FYI. IDK if anyone finds that important, but it's fairly obvious by the line "He wasn't in his bedroom. Lewis didn't just slam his head into a desk; his head had been slammed into the [arcade] game."

"Why did he hallucinate a scene from his childhood?" Oh, it's not PTSD, then. It's just the VENTILATION ERROR. lol Okay.

Just a note, as I'm reading through the more action-based stuff, I kind of feel bad for Michael if he had flashbacks like this guy. They're intense.

So, Lewis' voice finally comes out of Springtrap on Pg 213. There's that.

Pg 220 "You can just stay there [in his room]" Kind of a paralell to Midnight Motorist. Lewis is saying it to Hudson. I really feel like the kid in the MM game is Michael because of this story...

Pg 223 "Heat purges. Fire heals." I'm sure that's Henry's life motto.

The ending was stupid, but most in these stories are. Hudson is hallucinating and is implied to have burned himself alive in FF's oven. Meh? The first half of this one is A TRIP and a little insight into what I 100% believe is Michael's childhood. I think the saddest part of it all is that we never got Springtrap speaking to Michael in FNAF 3--and if it's ever remade I hope we get more of them interacting.

[cat-soda]

in indigo

every time near brings someone back to life, his own lifespan is cut in half.

Pairings: one-sided meronia, implied mellodramattic

Word count: 1187

Warnings for: angst, hurt/comfort (mostly hurt lbr), major character death

Part 1 [2] [3] [4]

[AO3 Link]

Near hadn‘t let himself think about it, at first. There was still Kira to be dealt with, then reports to put on file, and housekeeping duties that needed to be done before they left Japan. But then, the day before their flight back to England arrived, and Near—

their bodies. He still had to do something about their bodies.

And he considered it. Delaying the move, pushing off the visit until he stopped getting dizzy at the thought of seeing either of them... like that.

But.

Corpses rot.

So he went. Identified them, quietly had Rester make arrangements for them to be sent home, and wondered how cruel it was to bury Mello at the place he’d hated so much. (Then again, maybe it hadn’t been the House he’d hated. Perhaps it’d just been Near.)

He almost doesn’t check the small apartment they’d been renting until Lidner asks him to accompany her. “There’re some things that Mello left behind for you, Near,” she says, soft-voiced. “You should probably take a look.”

Which was how he found himself blinking in the middle of their flat, staring at all the wires snaking all over the floor, the mattress shoved against the far-end wall, the Christmas decorations that they hadn’t even started to put away. Matt’s old GameBoy was charging next to a section of wall where it seemed he and Mello had started a playful argument in sticky notes. He steps forward and sends an old bottle of drugstore nail polish skidding across the room. Remnants of life covered in a fine layer of dust.

“Lidner.” His throat feels tight, and he clears it before trying again. “Lidner, please try not to disturb any of these objects. I’d like to preserve things as they were, as closely as possible.”

“Yessir.”

She hands him a folder, then a laptop. “This is it.” A note on the folder’s front says, For that shithead, Near, and Near studies Mello’s looping handwriting closely before hugging the two items close to his chest.

“Let’s go.”

---

Mihael Keehl.

Near repeats the name to himself over and over again, rolls it over his tongue, tries to imagine how it’d sound leaving Mello’s lips. My name is Mihael.

A pit’s growing in his stomach. He feels as though he’s already having trouble remembering what Mello sounds like. Of course, this isn’t really the case. Near’s memory is impeccable, and he’s especially always had a particular gift when it comes to remembering the specific undertones to one’s speech patterns and mimicking what it is he hears. He wouldn't forget a voice so easily.

Especially not Mello’s.

And yet,

My name is Mihael.

How would he have said it?

(Church bells are ringing in his ears.)

---

It had rained on the day A died.

Or maybe it was during her funeral.

Near couldn’t quite recall which it was. The days from that time had all seemed to melt together into a gray conglomerate of tears and heartache, and for Near, who had been very small, the church bells rang with enough ferocity to shake him to his very core.

Mello wasn’t very nice back then —had never been ‘very nice,’ really— but he’d stood in front of the doorway and blocked out the light as Matt sat besides Near’s curled up form and spoke in soft and gentle tones, helped him unfurl his fists from his hair, slowly, joint by little joint, then held his trembling hands. None of them had been old enough to attend her funeral, but they all knew grief, in their own ways. They’d all heard Beyond’s howling when he found her.

Probably, it’s when she died that the rain started, incessant and cold. It’s logical. What Near remembers in startling clarity, however, is that when B went away, he took the rain with him.

And the church bells came to a stop.

---

“Yo.”

Near blinks.

In the dark of L’s —now his— bedroom, Near was building himself a barrier out of Legos blocks. Its purpose wasn’t so much to keep anyone out, as it was to keep his predecessor’s things out of sight. Old folders and clothing on hangers alongside some knick-knacks the other children had sent L over the years. Near was surprised he kept them— he could even see some of Linda’s most ambitious paintings from when she was young hanging up on the wall. Above a chocolate fountain.

It wasn’t being used at the moment.

After reading the documents that Mello had left him, Near curled up on the floor beside L’s bed, staring at the empty space beneath. ‘The best dresser that died like a dog’... you were always so dramatic, Mello. He had been wondering, though. About what happened to B. About Naomi Misora. About L.

About Mello.

This was his voice, wasn’t it?

Then, Near’s stomach started churning, so he opened a large tub and started snapping Lego blocks together, and this was how Ryuk found him, several hours later.

“Yo,” he says again, like he was worried that Near hadn’t heard him the first time. “Damn, kid, you look like shit.”

“Thank you, Mr Shinigami,” Near replies, “for your astute observation.” Ryuk cackles as he continues putting blocks together. “Was there something you needed? I’m afraid that I’ve already burned the notebooks in Mr Mikami and Mr Aizawa’s possessions, so I can’t return them to you.”

“Nah, that’s not it.” Ryuk does a handstand and wiggles his feet in the air. “I still have mine, so that’s not a problem. And anyways, even if the King does have anything to say about the incident, Armonia Justin owes me a favor.” Without looking over, Near lifts his eyebrows, which Ryuk seems to take as curiosity, as he immediately follows with, “You know what sex is, don’t ya?”

He suddenly wishes that he does not. “Why are you here?”

“Just wondering.” Ryuk cackles again. He goes silent, watching with glowing red eyes as Near, wearing a puppet on each finger, arranges and rearranges painted Lego figures atop the highest points of his barrier. A blonde one stands directly in front of him, looking outwards and standing guard. That one, he doesn’t touch. “Say, kid,” says the shinigami. “Do you miss them?”

Near’s hands pause. He doesn’t answer.

“I was thinking: you don’t really look like you're cut out for this. I mean, look at you. You’re shaking.” The shinigami creeps closer. “But I can help you bring them back. You could bring them all back. If you want it bad enough, that is.” Near’s gaze shifts up from the floor and over to meet his. “What do ya think?”

A finger comes up to curl around white hair. “‘Once dead, humans can never come back to life.’ Is that not what the rules of the Death Note said?”

“Rules, Nate River,” snickers Ryuk, pulling out a white notebook from underneath his belt, “are meant to be broken.” He holds it out to Near, just under his nose. And there, right on the cover, read the words Life Note. “I think it’s about time you learned to be a rule-breaker.”

-----

a/n: *wheeze* i almost posted this onto ao3 without any tags.

i just wanna say whoever came up with the idea of a life note first... i'm going to fight you with my bare hands.

hope you guys enjoyed this fic! title is from deep indigo (although hitchcock is definitely more of a near song)

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

TWDG: The Final Season | Character Discussion | 1/2

Part 1 | Part 2

“Everyone’s counting on me to step up. Be the leader they need me to be... I really want to be that for them.”  

So.... let’s talk about Marlon. 

I mean, let’s really talk about him. Ever since I started this blog, some common questions I get revolve around Marlon- “How do you feel about Marlon?” “Do you think he deserved a redemption arc?” “Why do you think he was sent to Ericson?” “In your opinion, is Marlon a bad person?” and many others. 

Some ask with expectations that I’ll express a distaste or hatred for him, while others ask with a more sympathetic approach. If you know me, if you’ve been here for a while, then you know that I do indeed like Marlon as a character, and today I want to talk about him from my perspective while playing this game. 

And with that comes a seemingly unnecessary disclaimer, but one I feel I need to add in order to make it abundantly clear: I will be discussing MY thoughts, experiences, and feelings about Marlon within TFS and give my take on his character. Because we’re not the same person, you may have a different opinion or perspective on his character, you may disagree with something I say, and that’s perfectly okay. You’re entitled to your opinion as I am mine, and I do encourage you to join in on the discussion and express your thoughts about Marlon, but I also want to let you know that you can do that without attacking me or anyone else. 

Really, this is pretty much me looking at Marlon’s role and arc within TFS, discussing points of his character that I find interesting, exploring the why’s and how’s of his actions, maybe coming up with a couple theories as to why he was sent to Ericson, and basically giving a lot of personal opinions of him. It’s a discussion meant in good fun, that’s all I’m saying. 

Before we dive right in, I do want to thank @pi-creates​ for providing me with most of the screenshots used in this. I appreciate the help! If you haven’t already, go check out Pi’s blog for some of the best screenshots and model swaps in the TWDG community! Thank you, thank you!

[First and foremost, y’all are sleeping on Ray Chase’s performance as Marlon and it really shows]

“Looks like I was announced as Marlon, the central focus in this first episode of The Walking Dead Season 4 coming in a few weeks. I've been playing this series since the beginning, and it was a real honor to be a part of the canon. I hope you enjoy!“ - Ray Chase’s Twitter account | July 26, 2018

I want to start this off with praising Marlon’s voice actor, Ray Chase, for doing such a perfect job of bringing Marlon’s character to life. Every emotion and infliction feels genuine, and there’s isn’t a single moment where I don’t “see” Marlon, y’know? I mean that in the sense that every line delivered is believable and doesn’t break my immersion with, “Oof, they really used that take?” 

I know we throw praise upon Melissa, Tayla, Sterling, and Gideon [and for good reason, they’re all fantastic, too!] but even with them there are a couple of lines that I notice have a lack of flow or sound just a bit off. I’ve played TFS how many times? And not once have I had that issue with Ray Chase as Marlon, so bravo to this man. Credit where credit is due, his performance is damn near flawless.

Especially in the confrontation scene at the end of Done Running. I’ll get into that scene as a whole later, but just looking at the performance and the intense, impactful emotion brought to that scene, just..... *chef kiss*

Thank you, Ray Chase. 

[What’s up with your haircut, Marlon?]

“Uh, I look cool... I say, I look cool.”

Lemme talk a little bit about Marlon’s design- I think he looks great. 

I love the little details in the Ericson varsity jacket he wears... including the fact that it looks just a tad bit too snug on him. Like, either the boy doesn’t have another jacket or he’s grown so attached to this one that he’s not willing to admit that he’s outgrown it a bit. 

I’ve had a lot of people point out that it’s nice to see a teenage character in these games with actual acne since most media pretends that acne just doesn’t exist, and I agree. We all know that if this were more realistic, then everyone would have terrible, greasy, dirty skin but... y’know. 

And y’know what? I like the mullet! It’s unique! And I choose to believe it’s a representation of Marlon’s past with bad decisions he’s too stubborn to admit were bad decisions... I mean, he’s had it since he was a kid and hadn’t grown it out or cut it off [to our knowledge, I suppose] sooo... there’s that. 

Or maybe he does actually think it looks badass. Either way. 

Hell, my biggest complaint about Marlon’s design is that I wish they kept more to this concept art attire:

Because Marlon looks super good in this concept art. I love the headband with the mullet and his clothes actually look more comfortable... but like, it’s fine. He still looks great in the game, his little jacket’s cool, bringing back the mullet...its fine. I’m just sayin’. He looks great. 

[Marlon’s introduction in TFS]

“It's our little kingdom. I just do what I can to keep the peace. Wasn't always like this, though. There used to be a lot of us, but...you know how it goes.”

Let’s talk about how Marlon’s introduced. 

We get our first look at him after Clementine and AJ crash their car during the walker attack. A bunch of arrows come flying, hitting walkers attempting to get ahold of them, and as Clementine glances over she sees a figure pulling AJ out of the car. And even though you can tell it’s Marlon, this closer shot from Pi-

-100% confirms that it’s him. Not that you had any doubt, but still.

What’s interesting, though, is that while snooping around for some insight about Marlon from the writers/devs, wandering around reddit, replaying the game myself, and even glancing over the all-knowing wiki that’s never wrong ever, it seems agreed upon that Marlon wasn’t alone, despite no one else being specifically mentioned to have helped Clementine and AJ. 

Which makes sense that that’d be the case, but I did come across a handful of people who are pretty adamant that he was alone, which is an interesting take, though I disagree.

I’m pretty sure most people do, too. I mean, Marlon says, “It's good we found you when we did. It wasn't easy getting you two out of that wreck, and walkers were on the way.” So I don’t even think that was the writers’ intention of it being solely Marlon who saved them.

What’s funny is I came across a post Instagram [I know, the most legitimate source for info and thoughtful opinions] that was surprisingly trying to redeem/defend Marlon rather than chastise him by claiming he’s a hero who saved Clementine and AJ by himself. 

The thing is, they’re both unconscious after the wreck, so unless Marlon has super-human speed to grab AJ, zip around the car to grab Clementine, and then uses super-human strength to carry both of them AND their belongings all while killing any threatening walkers coming after them with his bow... I’m gonna have to press [X] Doubt. 

Besides, I like the idea of it being vague. I like to think that was the intention. “Who was Marlon with? A hunting party! You fill in the blanks!” That sort of deal.

With everything that we know about Marlon and the safe-zone, it does lead to questions about why he and whoever felt they had to go outside it to see what was happening. Marlon points out in his conversation with Clementine that they “had to work fast. I don't know what would've happened if we hadn't seen the smoke...” And later Violet mentions an explosion, so I think it’s safe to say that they heard the explosion and followed the smoke to the location. 

If you don’t know about the raiders and the twins [like it’s your first time playing] then you probably assume that Marlon and his group were being kind in rescuing them, which I don’t doubt but it does make you wonder about things from Marlon’s perspective, y’know?

This is one of those “shhh, don’t think, just go with it” moments. If I had to give a reason, I’d say that the group he was with didn’t think twice about checking it out and even if Marlon did protest, he didn’t have much choice but to follow. Then, seeing that it’s Clementine and AJ, I believe he genuinely wanted to save them. 

“All alone with the kid? Not a pleasant thought. I've seen some rough scenes. But that one would've been up there.”

We get our second and more official introduction to Marlon after Clementine escapes her dorm and confronts Tenn... and it’s pretty fucking good. I mean, everything from him being hidden in the shadows with his bow drawn, to the clear concern yet sternness in his voice as he assures Clementine they’re not going to hurt her and to put the knife down, to his sympathetic apology for scaring her is just an A+. 

One thing this season does exceptionally well is introducing its characters. Marlon has such a confident yet chill way about him when you first meet that it’s actually disheartening to think that in two hours he’s gonna be pulling a gun and MURDER....

Sigh. 

Let’s not jump that far ahead yet. I’m not ready. 

What I find appealing about this next part is Clementine’s reaction to seeing the inside of Ericson for the first time and how taken aback she seems by it. I also love how easy and comfortable it is to talk with Marlon as they’re walking through the yard even though we just met him. 

I enjoy that you can tell he’s trying to get a better idea of who she is without pressuring or overwhelming her and doing his best not to offend. And even when Clementine questions if he doesn’t think she can handle herself, he’s decent about apologizing and explaining that’s not what he meant. But he’s also not afraid to be upfront about AJ’s behavior since they brought him here, either.

He does come off as annoyed when talking about AJ being a handful. We don’t know how long Clementine’s been passed out or how long they had to deal with AJ after he woke up, so who knows how much of a little terror AJ was before they either dumped him with Louis or Louis decided to take him to the music room to chill... where he then bit Ruby. 

Anyway, the first impression I got of Marlon is that he’s genuinely friendly, trying to help Clementine and AJ even if AJ’s been a nuisance, and he’s confident in the system he has in place for them. He is rather forward and proud about being the school’s leader when first telling Clementine. 

Having played through the whole season several times and knowing how Done Running ends, it’s interesting to look at Clementine’s first conversation with Marlon with that all knowing perspective- knowing what he did to the twins, knowing that Brody’s involved and that Marlon’s going to eventually kill her, going to try and frame Clementine for the murder, knowing that he was planning on giving Clementine and AJ away...

I can definitely look at this conversation with a more skeptical lens and say he’s more so trying to sell the idea that he has everything under control in this kingdom for kids and he’s a proper leader with a system in place despite being so young with no adults around. But hey, that’s the natural progression- Ericson is a perfectly chill safe haven and the Ericson crew get along swell... except no, the cracks slowly begin to surface as the episode goes on until all hell breaks loose with Marlon at the center. 

[Rosie is best girl]

“You said dogs brought back bad memories. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were so scared of them. But I swear, Rosie's not as frightening as she seems...See? She's harmless. She just needs to get to know you, is all. Here. I'll show you. Do you trust me? “

I’ll be completely honest- the thing that initially sold me on trusting Marlon the first time I ever played this episode was his relationship with Rosie. 

If you know me, then you know that I love dogs. I have a pup named Piglet that I adore, I’ve grown up with dogs my whole life, and I have a huge appreciation and soft spot for animals.  I’m one of those people that can’t stand others who are mean or cruel to harmless animals. It’s different if you’re hunting for food or if an animal attacks you and you’re defending yourself... but I’ve known people who have gone out of their way to hurt animals. I’m out in a country area with a lot of dangerous roads for wandering animals, and the amount of people I’ve driven with who’ll swerve to hit a squirrel, a cat, a dog because they enjoy it is too many. After those incidents, I cut those people out of my life.  If you don’t have that love and appreciation in your heart, then I want nothing to do with you. 

So when I saw that Rosie, while the school’s dog, is more portrayed to be Marlon’s dog above everyone else, I remember thinking to myself, “Okay, I trust him. He clearly loves this dog, wouldn’t mistreat her, and that’s a step in the right direction.”  

While I wasn’t skeptical of him and his intentions before, it really was that natural relationship he held with Rosie that kind of sealed the deal for me- “I like Marlon! He’s probably going to die because he’s the leader and they never last but when it does happen, I’m gonna be super upset about it.” 

And well, to be fair... I was super upset when he died, just more so than I originally planned because there was also that element of betrayal mixed into the pain, y’know? 

Speaking of trust and Rosie- My second favorite Marlon scene is the office scene. But let’s talk about the Rosie bit specifically. After Tenn leaves and Rosie comes in, she scares Clementine and brings back those traumatic memories of when Sam attacked her. 

Marlon comes in and cools the situation, and I love the way he talks to Clementine in this moment. 

I love that he doesn’t immediately turn to Clementine like, “What’d you do?” but recognizes that she’s afraid of Rosie due to her previous experience, one that he remembers her mentioning. He also knows how well trained Rosie is to recognize scents and people, which explains why she’s behaving that way- she doesn’t know Clementine. 

I feel like I’m using this word a lot, but Marlon’s approach to helping Clementine with her fear of dogs feels so genuine. He holds his hand out and waits for her to accept, and if she does, he walks Clementine through what to do, beginning Clementine’s bond with Rosie. 

“Get down on her level. Let her get your scent. It's okay. She's not gonna hurt you.”

It’s incredibly sweet and humanizing to see Marlon like this. 

The best part about this scene, though, is that you can reject Marlon’s offer and he won’t be upset. 

“No problem. I'm not gonna pressure you.”

And he doesn’t. He doesn’t get annoyed, he doesn’t press, no questions asked, and he doesn’t say anything to make Clementine feel bad for her decision. He respects that she isn’t ready to get close with Rosie.

The reason I love this is because how many times have we made decisions in this game, big and small, and had the other characters get annoyed or try to guilt us? “Oh, you don’t want to bond with the dog? Rosie’s the best, everyone loves dogs! What’s wrong with you?” None of that here. That’s something I appreciate about Marlon in this moment. 

It shows that when he wants to, he can listen and understand those around him... something he clearly struggles with when it comes to certain members of Ericson.

I’ll swing back around and talk about that entire scene in a bit, but one last thing about Rosie... can I just say how heart breaking it is to hear her whine at Marlon’s funeral? Solidifying that she was definitely Marlon’s dog more than anyone else’s? And the way Rosie lays on his grave several times in episode 2? 

Oof. 

[Ericson’s perception of Marlon prior to the final confrontation and after]

“...when the world went to shit, he bailed. All the other adults did. Left us behind to fend for ourselves...  Now it's just us kids left.”

I want to touch on how the Ericson crew seem to view Marlon as a leader before and after the final confrontation.

When looking at and discussing a character, it’s important to not just focus solely on them. You can gather a lot about a character based on how others respond and perceive them.

Not everyone expresses something towards Marlon within Done Running. Y’know, like Omar or Ruby, for example. Though we do get a bit more from them after Marlon’s death, their perception of him is different now that they’ve learned what he’s done and witnessed his murder.

So we don’t know how Ruby, Omar, Willy or Mitch viewed his leadership prior to those events, y’know? It’s safe to assume that they’re fine following him as a leader since they’re background characters at this point and make no objections to his leadership at any time before the confrontation. But, after learning the truth, they turned against him. 

Then things get complicated when Marlon’s murder traumatizes them. 

What a mess.

But for this section, there are two characters I want to get into specifics about. They’re worth talking about because they further Marlon’s character, but they’re not the most important, y’know? Characters like Louis, Tenn, and Brody will get their own sections. 

The one I find most interesting among side characters is Aasim. Right off the bat, you get a feel for what his relationship is like with Marlon:

Marlon: “How'd it go out there?”

Aasim: “How do you think it went?”

Brody: “Be nice, Aasim.”

Aasim: “The safe zone's nearly dry. I could barely find enough for tonight. We're gonna have to scout out further if we want food for the winter.”

Marlon: “We'll talk about it later.”

Aasim: “Bullshit, we should talk about this right now-”

Marlon: “I said later, damn it!”

So... they’re not exactly besties. The game makes a clear point that Aasim is more vocal in his disagreements and concerns towards Marlon than the others. They even reiterate it when you talk with him later:

“He keeps pulling back the safe zone. We have fewer and fewer places to hunt. Which means we're gonna have fewer and fewer things to eat.”

No one else opposes Marlon like he does, not counting Brody in the basement since that’s a whole other thing and Brody will get an entire segment to herself later.

It’s pretty clear that this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation, but because Marlon’s in a place of power, Aasim doesn’t have much choice but to go along with it. Because no one else is speaking up, he doesn’t have anyone to back him up, and you can tell he goes with it reluctantly. He also voices annoyances when it comes to how Marlon treats Louis if you go hunting.

Knowing this, you can infer that Marlon doesn’t want to hear what Aasim has to say, and he doesn’t appreciate someone questioning his leadership. When Aasim steps in Marlon’s path and says, “Bullshit, we should talk about this right now-” what does Marlon do?

He shoves his shoulder into Aasim’s as he pushes past, and in a louder, commanding tone, replies, “I said later, damn it!” which leads to Aasim glaring after him... but he doesn’t pursue. Marlon has a hard time with someone like Aasim and his response is to shut him down rather than stop, listen to his concerns, and address them.

That’s something Marlon struggles with as a leader- control and listening. Control over his temper and anger, listening and addressing the concerns of the people he swears to protect.

The reason I bring this up is because Aasim is our first indication that the image Marlon was giving off previously isn’t as spotless as he wants us to believe. Aasim plants a seed of doubt, y’know? He gives an argument that the player can get behind.

“Yeah, why not extend the safe zone? If food is really as bad as you say it is, then what other choice is there? Just be extra cautious so no one gets hurt,” which can then lead to thinking, “Why is Marlon so insistent about the safe zone? Is he hiding something?”

Once that seed is there, it grows.

Now as for how Aasim’s view of Marlon changes during and after the confrontation, you can see that he’s one of the few that wants to hear Clementine’s side to things, and he steps forward after Louis/Violet intervenes.

Then after Marlon dies, Aasim is... well, he’s rather neutral? And I say that meaning he’s more in a middle ground between Louis and Violet, who are on extreme opposite ends. Aasim isn’t okay with Marlon’s death, nor is he okay with AJ killing him, but he can see that kicking Clementine and AJ out isn’t the best solution. Hence why he voted for them to stay.

You can see he’s still angry at Marlon for what he did during the funeral scene, but the game doesn’t care to show more beyond that. Which, in my opinion, was a missed opportunity on their part.  

And because I’m me, I also want to add that this perfectly sets up the idea of Aasim taking over once Marlon died and the writers shot themselves in the foot for wasting him like that. Good job.

Now let’s talk about Violet. People love when I do that.

Marlon and Violet don’t interact too much prior to the confrontation. The most we see them together is during the card game, and they’re chill. Violet makes fun of his hair, he says he looks cool, they’re decent to each other, it’s all good. They’re on friendly terms. 

Which I do find it interesting that she seems like she’s chill with Marlon, but she has such a hard time with Brody. Granted, that’s because she was supposed to go with them but asked Brody to cover her, and then when the twins died, she felt guilty. But you’d think that she’d also have some issues with Marlon, given that he was also there and, like Brody, unable to save them.

You could argue that because Violet and Brody were friends before it had a stronger effect, whereas she and Marlon weren’t ever that close, so it didn’t strike as bad, y’know? 

Though this does kind of get explained later if you choose to stick with Violet through ep4. Well, sort of? A little? She tells you:

Violet: “...I remember how Marlon described it, what we were gonna turn Ericson into. It's not the way any of us pictured it.”

Clementine: “How did you picture it?”

Violet: “I guess I couldn't. I just listened to what Marlon said. How it would be a home, a real one. But I couldn't really wrap my head around it.”

And when she talks about people who cared about her that she pushed away, she does list Marlon as one of those people, which is super interesting given all the loathing she’s done towards him after the truth came out.

It could be that in the past, she saw Marlon as the leader and why would he lie? He’s the one who stepped up, promised that they’d made Ericson into something special, into a brand new home... what reason does she have to distrust him?

So when she finds out the truth... well, that betrayal completely shatters everything she has for Marlon, going as far as for her to believe that AJ was justified in what he did and shit talking Marlon in front of his mourning best friend. 

So her reaction to Marlon after this makes sense, but what does this tell us about Marlon himself?

Again, depending on how you view him, you can look at this idea of Marlon being kind to Violet and them being on friendly terms after what happened to the twins a few different ways- Marlon was manipulating Violet solely for his sake, or Marlon felt guilty that something he did hurt her this bad and tried to make Violet feel better, or both.

I think it was both. After the twins died, we all know the amount of guilt Marlon carried with him, so having to be confronted with the fallout of that in the form of someone like Violet... he had to be careful. I don’t doubt that he cared about Violet or that he tried to reach out to her, but he also had to protect himself for the sake of maintaining his leadership and control of Ericson. So, of course, he had to lie to her which manipulated her feelings about him and the situation. 

I believe Violet recognized it, too. When she says they should’ve asked more questions about what happened, I think that’s her being more pissed with herself for trusting Marlon and not questioning him further, for taking his word for it. 

I’ve come across theories suggesting that Marlon actually manipulated Violet into placing blame onto Brody rather than him, which is why she is on friendly terms with him but not so much Brody. And that’s a valid interpretation. There isn’t any solid evidence of this within the game to suggest either way, but I can definitely see how someone would come to that conclusion. Especially after the confrontation.

Now let’s touch on Violet if you appeal to her, because Marlon does something that makes me go “Hmmmm...”

Clementine, when she appeals to Violet, say, “Violet you have to believe me.”

To which, Marlon immediately steps in and says, “You don't. You met her, like, two days ago!”

He doesn’t even give her a chance to speak. 

With Louis, he’s so overly confident that he has him completely wrapped around his finger that he doesn’t feel the need to say anything. He feels he has control over Louis. But with Violet, he feels his control might not be as strong, so he needs to remind her that she just met Clementine, whereas she’s known him for years- something he uses against the whole group.

And when Clementine tries to talk to her, Marlon takes a low blow and it’s super shitty.

“Don't let her get in your head. Hey, what would Minnie want you to do? She was my friend, too. So was Brody.”

He’s desperate to crawl out of the grave this situation has put him in that he’s willing to go this low, doing everything he can to make sure Violet doubts Clementine... and y’know, whose to say this is the first time Marlon is using Minnie to manipulate her? And when it doesn’t work, he gets frustrated like “Violet being difficult. Why am I not surprised?” which could suggest that it hasn’t always worked. 

It goes back to what I was saying- Marlon tried to get close to Violet and she never let him. She was difficult to be around after the twins died due to her grief and Marlon struggled with that. 

When he finally comes clean, this is where the real shift happens with him and Violet. You can see the hatred burning on her face every time the camera pans over to her now that she’s felt betrayed by him and his actions. 

Right before Marlon dies, if you choose to say nothing, Violet will step forward and start saying that he doesn’t get to stay, but gets cut off when AJ shoots him. 

All in all, Violet is a big case against Marlon and a showcase of how far his manipulation as gone within Ericson.

[Marlon’s office and foreshadowing of motivations]

“Whenever someone goes outside the safe zone, bad shit happens. People die or disappear. I just... I could really use the help, Clementine. Taking care of these kids, it's not easy. I'm worried that if I don't figure something out, if...if I don't fix our food situation... I can't lose anyone else. We've already lost so much. Friends, siblings... I can't let another kid die. It could break us.”

Swinging back around, let’s talk about the rest of the scene in the office. 

First off- it’s implied that Marlon uses the office as a bedroom given the mattress on the floor and some of his personal belongs laying about. Like the photo he keeps of him and Louis. 

The bed isn’t for Rosie, we assume, since we later see her sleeping outside while chained up. This might be just because they wanted Rosie present for the confrontation scene but didn’t want her loose, so they put her outside when you’d think that she’d sleep inside with everyone else. 

Or, maybe she just prefers to be outside when the weather’s nice, or they keep her as a guard in case something were to happen, that way she can alarm them. 

Anyway, why does Marlon potentially sleep in his office rather than in a dorm? Or does he have a dorm that he’ll sleep in, but keeps the mattress there just in case? 

Well, a show of authority, for one. Even if he does keep a dorm room, it’s likely that he made the office his own as a way to be like “The headmaster is gone, this is my office now. I’m in charge.” 

Which makes sense. 

And when you think about what Louis tells us about Marlon having all these sleepless nights and tough calls, it’s not hard to imagine him spending late nights in his chair going over different plans and stressing over the food situation/safe zone, as well as letting the guilt of the twins weigh on him to the point were he’s too exhausted to even leave.

Moving on to the actual conversation between him and Clementine. He does show a vulnerable side to her, which I like. He can feel the pressure he’s under and sense the loss he’s suffered. But...like before, looking at this knowing what I know, it’s not hard to see certain things in a different light opposed to what you’d see as a new player.

What’s interesting, though, is while I do enjoy this conversation and the bits of insight it gives to Marlon’s character, there is this subtle, slightly off undertone of the whole scene after the Rosie bit. 

At this point, we’ve talked with Aasim and he’s planted the seed of doubt.

We’ve heard the story about the twins. Violet came and talked to us about it, we could visit their graves and learn that they died at this time last year. Anyone who has played any game or heard any story can pick up on that the twins are important. They’re not going to use these girls as some throw away lines. They’re going to come back one way or another. 

We’re literally living in their dorm. The dorm that Marlon put us in. They’re heavily connected to Tenn and Violet, two important characters I previously discussed. Then, Violet comes barging into our room and talks about them some more. 

It makes the gears turn, y’know? 

And with Marlon being very insistent that they stay in the safe zone, it’s not hard to question the story about the twins. I went through and skimmed a couple play throughs on youtube to this scene and a lot of them were theorizing that the twins weren’t actually dead or something wasn’t right, some cracks are starting to show. Why else bring it up? Marlon being the one to push the dangers of the safe zone and everything with Aasim... it’s not hard to pick up that he might be hiding something.  

The thing I find fascinating about people’s perception of Marlon is how they interpret his motivations when it comes to Clementine and AJ, and that can be tracked back to this scene. 

We all know that he’s planning on giving them to the raiders if they come back. It’s a hard fact. Brody warned us before she died, and dialogue during the basement scene backs it up. 

But the question I’m curious about is... when did this motivation begin? 

When did Marlon decide that he would give Clementine and AJ to the raiders if they ever came back? 

Because the text doesn’t tell us anything until Brody’s death, I feel like we all have a different moment where we believe that became Marlon’s secret motive, y’know? 

In all my digging, I’ve read posts about this idea, people giving their thoughts on when they think Marlon secretly turned on us, or if he was ever really on our side. 

One has people theorizing that Marlon saved Clementine and AJ with the intention of giving them away from the beginning. 

So he saw taking these two in and earning their trust as an opportunity to save everyone else at the school [the people he cares about] rather than have to sacrifice anyone else like they did with the twins. Clementine and AJ were just a means to an end if the raiders came back. 

Which is a rather sinister way to look at it and puts quite a negative spin on Marlon’s actions towards them - like how he’s willing to let them stay at the school not out of kindness but out of bad intentions, and every kind thing he ever did was to win over their trust so he could lure them out into the woods and do a trade if necessary. 

The line “Take this. I don't want you gettin' lost.” gets pointed at a lot due to how Marlon says it, the infliction of it, and it’s theorized that the hidden meaning behind it is “Take this, if you get lost then I can’t make the trade.”

Same thing with “Just remember to stay in the safe zone. We need you to come back home in one piece.”

Which isn’t a wrong interpretation of this. You can totally look at this conversation between Marlon and Clementine as Marlon subtly foreshadowing his turn, or betrayal, at the end of the episode.  

“...It's how we've kept ourselves from unwanted attention for so long. Well... For the most part, anyway.”

“I can't lose anyone else. We've already lost so much. Friends, siblings... I can't let another kid die. It could break us. Sorry. I'm just... There's a lot of pressure.” 

“What, did you think I was gonna throw you out?“

Then there are the middle ground people who believe Marlon didn’t save Clementine and AJ with that intention in mind, but it started to appear as an option to him either a bit before or during the office scene. Y’know, it came as a passing thought that ended up lingering until he acknowledged it as a solution to a potential problem. 

Again, pointing at the dialogue from before- him suggesting that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep his community alive... just like he did before. 

And while he gets along with Clementine and AJ [or as some would suggest, he appears to be friendly], they’re not his family. He isn’t close to them the same way he is the rest of the school. and if he has to give anyone away, it’s going to be them, whether he wants to or not. 

Marlon didn’t want to give Sophie and Minerva away, and he’s carried that with him up until this point. We see it manifest to a breaking point that lead to Brody’s death and, eventually, his own. 

Finally, there are the people who believe that the idea of giving Clementine and AJ away didn’t occur to him until after the incident with Abel. After Brody panicked and told him about getting robbed, then Clementine claiming they met a man with different colored eyes who wanted food, and the realization that the raiders could be back. 

This is where I personally stand when it comes to this idea. I believe that Marlon didn’t decide on this until he heard about Abel, and solidified it during the fight with Brody down in the basement. 

But what about the dialogue in this scene that potentially has double meanings? Well, I believe that’s the writers suggesting Marlon’s turn and motivations rather than Marlon himself, if that makes sense. Like I said before, you could take nearly everything Marlon says as some sort of foreshadowing or suggestion of what happened to the twins, what his true intentions are with Clementine and AJ, and what will happen to him at the end of the episode. 

That’s the thing- Marlon doesn’t ever go on a mustache-twirling monologue about how he knew he could use Clementine and AJ as trade if the raiders came back and that’s the real reason why he saved them, nor do we see him come up with the idea on the spot. 

Hell, Marlon never admits to the player that he was going to do that. The most he says is, “Shut your fucking mouth! I made the right call. I saved the lives of everyone in this fucking school! If they came back... I'd do it again!”  

Brody is the one who told us everything, and every time Clementine throws it back in his face, he tells her to shut up and threatens her with the gun. 

But from what I’ve tried to gather about what Marlon and Brody talk about in the basement before Clementine gets down there...

Marlon: “Why can't you just do what I ask you to do?”

Brody: “Because we caused all this, and now we have to deal with it!”

Marlon: “I am dealing with it!”

Brody: “By tradin' more of us away? That's not fixin' the problem, that's runnin' away from it!”

[I’ll come back to this full conversation later when I go over the basement scene by itself. It gets pretty dark.]

Which.... yeah. So, I’m not trying to say Brody was lying or anything just because Marlon never flat out admitted it to us the player, I’m just saying that we don’t know for sure when he made up his mind about this since the game never gives a clear suggestion for the sake of his dramatic turn from friend to antagonist. 

Did he have this idea from the start or did he come up with it during this conversation? 

We don’t know, but it’s interesting to look at the different views surrounding this question and how it applies to Marlon’s character. Because yeah, if you truly believe that Marlon had this intention from the start, it makes all of his actions in this episode pretty scummy. And again, that’s not wrong because there isn’t an answer here. 

I choose to believe that maybe the idea came as an unwanted thought in the beginning, but manifested into something real when he heard about Abel. He shared his plan with Brody, who didn’t want to go along with it. 

And y’know what... let’s finally get into the basement scene and Brody...

Continued in Part 2/2

[toomanyfandoms02]

Thoughts - Part 1 // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

This timeline is set around 2006 because that's when the actually 2nd season of Criminal Minds was going on. So Matthew is about 26.

Summary - Soulmate AU! Once you turn 18, you can hear some of your soulmates thoughts. And when you meet, your thoughts go silent for 30 seconds. Readers soulmate is quite the character. (Anything you see in bold is the other persons thought.)

Word count : 2.1k

This is kind of experimental lmao, lemme know if you like it :)))

"What was your first soulmate thought y/n?" I got this question often, everyone did. This time it was asked by a new friend of mine, we met in our cinematography class this semester at LAFS ( Los Angeles Film School ).

"I think my story is one of the more fun ones."

"I bet mines better." Her eyes held promise, but I wasn't sure she could beat me.

*It was currently 1:15 pm, and I was waiting patiently for my first soulmate thought. I was with my best friend Marley, we sat in the cafeteria of my college, mind you, surrounded by other people.*

*"What time were you born again?" She had asked the question so many times this hour, by the way she was bouncing, you would think that we were waiting for hers.*

*"1:19 pm for the last time Marley." I giggled, nudging her shoulder. I took a bite of the cupcake she had bought me for my birthday. It took no time for the clock to hit 1:19, I anxiously waited to hear something, anything.*

"Now disclaimer." I told my friend, who I now knew as Alex. "I knew that some people had reported that their first soulmate thoughts were kind of, *loud*. But I can tell you that I was severely unprepared."

*Only 30 seconds after my watch ticked past 1:19, I heard a near deafening screech in my head.*

***"What the fuck?!"** The thought was so obnoxious and loud that I spit the fluffy pastry from my mouth and directly onto the back of another person, holding tightly to my ears, this did not help.*

*"What's going on? What did they say?" Marley leaned over to me, rubbing my back with a horrified look. Not long after, the man I had spit on turned around with a furious look.*

*"Hey I'm so sorry." I choked out, waving a hand at the man. "My soulmate thought was painful." The man rolled his eyes with an angry huff, taking his cardigan off and turning back to his table.*

*"What did they say y/n?!" There she went again, bouncing like a dodgeball.*

*"What the fuck." My eyes darted to hers, narrowed slightly. She furrowed her brows at me. "He literally thought, what the fuck, so loudly."*

Alex was on the floor giggling like a fiend, she held her stomache as if her guts would spill out with so much joy.

"Nope, you're right." She could barely speak between laughter. "I can't beat that." She promptly wiped the tears from her eyes, composing herself. "So you haven't met him yet?" She let out a final sigh.

"Nope. When I meet him, I kinda wanna slap him." A sly smile made it's way onto my lips. "The little shit thinks the weirdest things! I have had to deal with his thoughts for 4 years, and I'm ready for the complete silent bliss when I meet him." I laid my head back on the couch.

**I would really like a fruit roll up right now.**

"Speak of the idiot, he really wants a fruit roll up right now." Alex shook her head at me.

"Maybe he will be funny?"

"We'll see about that. What was your first soulmate thought?"

-

Tonight was Marley and I's 'introduction night.' Similar to a movie night, we have a night every two weeks where we either introduce the other to a new show or movie, alternating turns.

"I think you'll like this one." She plopped onto the loveseat, nearly throwing and spilling the hot popcorn on me while grabbing the remote. "It's a crime show, just started last year so after this season we can just keep up with it. If you like it of course." The show was flipped onto the first episode, it was a man talking about an unsub, or unidentified subject. Then a younger guy walked in, interrupting him.

"Who is that guy?" The words flew from my mouth before I could even think them.

"Spencer Reid-"

"No, I mean his *real* name. He looks *so* familiar." It felt like my brain was eating itself alive, why did he look so familiar.

"I think his name is Matthew Gray Gubler." Marley shrugged, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"Has he been in anything else but this?"

"He models a lot. That's probably where you saw him." She pushed some magazines around on her coffee table and threw one at me. "He's on page 16, Hilfiger Jean's." I flipped to the page, seeing his face again.

"Wow, he is something else. I must have just unknowingly saw him in a magazine somewhere."

"I know! Once I saw him on here, I knew you would think he was cute too. Plus, he's a genius. I figured this would be another Peter Parker situation again." She teased, poking at my giant crush on Spiderman AKA Toby Maguire a few years ago.

"Shut up!" I snickered, throwing a pillow at her head. My own thoughts were interrupted by one that was not my own.

**I wish Halloween would come faster.**

"Its literally May." I whispered to myself, earning a weird look from Marley. This is the typical weird thought, Halloween is big on his mind.

I of course ended up loving the show. ~~And may or may not have had a huge crush on Spencer Reid already.~~

I informed Marley that we would most certainly be catching up on the show regularly, making that out new weekly thing for a while.

Though I could truly not get that Matthew guy out of my head, and I had a weird feeling it wasn't just because I thought he was super hot.

Matthew

**Who is Matthew Gray Gubler?**

The thought nearly made me spit out my coffee as I walked through the set. I knew for sure that wasn't my thought.

*No shit sherlock.*

Now *that* was my thought.

The question swirled around in my head, I really wanted to just think,

*I'm Matthew Gray Gubler!*

Just to make this whole process easier. Who knows if she could even actually *hear* it if I did answer her, or that she would believe me.

So lost in my train of thoughts, pun intended, I ran right into a punch cart.

"Holy shit!" The punch came spilling down right onto my khaki pants. I rested my forehead on the rim of my coffee mug. "I'm so sorry Terry, I was really caught up in my head."

"It's alright." He pulled a towel from his back pocket, throwing it onto the puddle that was forming on the wood floor. "Thinkin' about a girl?"

"Yes actually, thinking about my soulmate. Let me help you with that." I kneeled down on the floor, wiping up the spill. "Sorry again."

"It's all good Matthew." He dragged the cart to the opposite side of the room.

**Why can I not focus damnit?! This trip is suppose to be fun. Focus y/n. Focus!**

Y/n! I've never heard her name before. Maybe shes getting closer to me.

I set my coffee on the table of the reading room, pulling my script out and sitting next to AJ.

"You seem out of it today, are you feeling okay?" She tapped my shoulder. "I saw you run directly into the lunch cart." She clearly tried to suppress a giggle.

"How did you meet Nathan? How did you do it?" My script was not slammed onto the table, my hands pressed firmly on top of it.

"Are you worried about soulmates again? Matthew, she will come to you-"

"She said my name!!" My hands flailed wilding in the air. "I heard her think it! This sucks." I laughed a bit at the end, feeling ridiculous and vulnerable. Ask phone buzzed on the table, interrupting my dilemma.

"Well I hate to stop you in the middle of this debacle, but we have a film class coming in to observe, I guess sit was suppose to be a surprise." AJ shrugged with a pity smile, which is my least favorite version of a smile. I dramatically slammed my head on the back of my rolling chair, groaning like a child.

"Come on Gubler, we don't even have to do anything, we just have to act normal so they can observe. Let's go educate some college kids." She stood above me, patting my head and dragging my seat from the table a few inches. I reluctantly stood up and left the reading room.

To be clear, if it were any other day than the day that I found out my soulmates name, I would be totally in the game. I love teaching people, I love being an inspiration, but all I could think about was how close yet how far I was from meeting the love of my life. I shook it all off, physically and mentally, while heading to the set.

*Time to get my head in the game.*

I hope my soulmate heard that and started thinking of highschool musical.

-

"Action!" I held my prop gun in my hand while following Shermar, he proceeded to kick a door down that had a camera on the other side to capture it. The class that was observing sat on the other side of the door, seeing all of the behind the scenes that goes on during filming.

To avoid making direct eye contact with the camera, I often look right past it. So instead of making eye contact with the camera, I made it with a girl.

Then it was silent.

I stopped in the doorway, leading AJ to slam right into me on her way through the door.

"What the hell are you doing Matthew?"

"Cut!"

**You have got to be fucking kidding me.**

We did not break our stare, her eyes wide now with the realization.

*Wow.*

The girl sitting next to her was shaking her shoulder violently, but she sat unfazed.

"Can you excuse me for a second?" Bobby Roth, our director for the day looked at me like I was dumb, inevitably giving in.

"Whatever, take 5 guys."

I immediately waltzed past the cameraman and over to, who I could only assume, was my soulmate. The girl next to her was promptly slapping her arm and squealing like a pig, but she was giving her quite the death stare.

*She's my kind of girl already.*

Right as I thought that, she looke duo at me with a large grin and a tilt of the head.

*Shit.*

**Damn, even cuter in person.**

"Thank you." I couldn't suppress the automatic pep in my step meeting her. "I'm Matthew, you must be y/n?" It came out as a question because I was worried I would be wrong, and embarrass myself.

Which I've done, many times.

"You know my name?"

"I uh, I heard you think it." I pointed to my head, nodding awkwardly.

"You are so weird." She laughed, which made my face reddened more 3x more than I'm sure it already was.

"What?" I managed to murmur out.

"Well, you just think about weird stuff, mostly Halloween though." She was slowly smiling more as she spoke of me, which made my heart skip a few beats. She was so much more beautiful than I had pictured her. Her eyes held every intelligent thought that I had ever heard from her, and I knew right then that the eyes were the door to the soul. "Now that I'm here," she finally stood to my level, poking at my chest. "Do you wanna do a couples costume? This year?" She did a cute half shrug, as if I would say no.

"Oh my God, you really are my soulmate." I pulled her into a hug, a tight one, never wanting to let her go now that I'd found her.

"Alright guys! Let's go!" Bobby motioned everyone back to the set.

"Yeah, get out there *Spencer*." She patted her hand on my cheek. I didn't know if I hoped that she *did* see or *didn't* see how much I already liked her on my face, but I could feel the admiration spilling from my features.

"I- I'll talk to you after this!" I stumbled backwards from her, going back to the set and awkwardly running my back into the cameraman.

"Can't wait!" She waved with a flushed face, sitting back down next to her friend who was now shaking both of her shoulders violently.

*This is the best day of my life.*

**Same.**

---------

I've got a few more Soulmat AU ideas if you want more! I just don't know if theres any demand, so LEMME KNOW.

[spooks-and-tea]

Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader) [Ch.6]

Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, bad words, sexual situations(some non-con), the usual criminal minds-type content

A/N: Sorry if any of the profiling sounds dumb, and don’t take it as factual for your psych hw. I’m trying to keep descriptions of people basic so you lovely readers can fill in the blanks with what you would want them to look like <3 even fill in the blank of which Reid hairstyle you want!

Word Count: 6,359

Chapter 1.  Chapter 2.  Chapter 3.  Chapter 4. Chapter 5.  Chapter 6.  Chapter 7. Chapter 8.  Chapter 9.  Chapter 10.  Chapter 11.

This is the second time that Spencer Reid has left you utterly disoriented before 6:00a.m.

You wake up on your couch practically on top of him.

Coffee and woodsy-vanilla. Warmth. Surprisingly toned arms (probably from carrying heavy stacks of books and case files). Yup, this is heaven. You initially thought you were still dreaming. After all, your dream hadn't been too far off from this. You figured the setting had just changed.

Absentmindedly, you cuddled up closer to him.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of a door being thrown shut. You yelped, jumping up. Your sudden movement woke Spencer up and he rolled, falling off the couch with a loud thump followed by a groan of pain.

Okay, so, not a dream.

"I'm gone one night and you're already with him again? When were you planning on telling me I was dating a whore?" Chris stood at the doorway.

"Calm down, it's nothing scandalous." You muttered. You needed coffee; it was way too early for this.

Spencer stood up, rubbing the back of his bedhead and yawning. You'd never felt the need to describe a full-grown man as 'cute' before. But- Cute.

"Sure looks that way," Chris scoffed.

"Why are you even here?" You asked, standing up from the couch while trying to smooth out your hair.

"Don't change the subject Y/N."

"Hey, don't talk to her that way." Spencer cut in, rounding the couch to stand next to you.

"What do you even see in this guy? What does he have that I don't have?" Chris blatantly ignored him, directing all of his attention to you.

"He's the complete opposite of you for starters, but I don't have to-"

"No I think you do; you owe me that much."

"Just leave it and get out of my house! Don't let your ego hit you on the way out." You yelled, yeah you definitely needed coffee.

"You're a fucking bitch and a slut. You're lucky I ever gave you a chance because this-" He pointed at Spencer, "is hilarious, you must be absolutely out of your mind. He must fuck you good and hard huh? I bet you like that you whore!" He growled. "I guess now is as good a time as ever to tell you I slept with someone too, here, probably while you were out fucking him. You weren't giving me what I wanted so I found it in someone else. You're nothing but a cheap whore; forgettable. I hope you both rot." You stood with your jaw dropped as Spencer boldly stood up to him.

"She said get out." Spencer sneered.

"Or what? The scrawny side-piece is going to beat me up? I doubt it. Get out of my face before I make you."

Spencer stood his ground, you slowly neared behind him sensing the escalation.

"I said get. out. of. my. face." Chris was furious now. He roughly pushed Spencer backwards; sending Spencer stumbling and tripping over onto the floor. Chris looked like he was about to tackle him. You panicked and punched him with all your strength.

"Ow what the fuck Y/N?" Chris groaned as he covered his nose. You hissed as you clutched your bruising hand, no one said punching someone hurt the puncher so much.

"Don't. touch. him." You even scared yourself at the seriousness your tone.

"You bitch! You broke my nose!"

"And you assaulted an FBI agent. 2 of them actually. So I think we are more than even."

"Dammit. Forget it, just let me grab my clothes and leave; it don't have much here."

"No. You'll wait in the hallway outside of MY house and I will grab your things and bring them to you. Now give me my house key." You ordered.

"Ugh, fine." His voice was nasally as he held it to stop the bleeding. He followed your orders, slamming the door behind him.

You pocketed the key before turning to check on Spencer. He was still on the floor, holding himself up on his elbows to stare at you in awe.

You held out your non-bruised hand to help him up.

"Y-you punched him." Spencer stated as if he was trying to convince himself that it really happened.

"Yeah, he was going to hurt you so-" you shook your bruised hand out, the skin had slightly scratched leaving little lines of blood. You laughed to yourself. "No one told me it would hurt this much."

Spencer grabbed your hand to inspect it. "We should clean this up."

You agreed and followed him upstairs.

He sat you down on the bathroom sink counter and looked through your medical supplies.

"He's waiting outside for his things." You mumbled.

"Let him wait." Spencer took your hand in his.

You watched him working for a moment before deciding you'd rather watch his face. He did his nose scrunch tick as he cleaned off the wound with water. You smiled in admiration.

"Thank you." Spencer said, meeting your eyes for a moment before continuing to gently clean your hand.

"You would've done the same for me." You shrugged, knowing it was true.

"This is going to sting." Spencer warned, moving on to the next phase of the cleaning process.

"Okay." You nodded, bracing yourself by holding his shoulder with your good hand.

He dabbed on the cleaning solution and your back shot up straight. You hissed and tightened your hold on him, he didn't seem to mind. He worked quickly. A tear fell down your cheek. You hadn't expected it to hurt that much.

Spencer noticed when he finished cleaning the wounds. He reached up to gently swipe it away with his thumb.

"Shh it's okay, the hard part's done," he cooed.

You almost wanted to cry more just so you could hear him speak to you like that again.

He took out the bandages and wrapped them around your hand, taping them off at the end. He bent your fingers back and forth.

"Is it too tight?"

You shook your head no, still watching his face. "It's perfect."

"They'll stay bruised for a week at most." Spencer finally looked up, meeting your glassy eyes.

Something about the gentle caring nature he exuded as he took care of you melted your heart. You hadn't had someone even close to that since your dad died. You wanted him to know how much you appreciated it.

You moved your free hand to clutch his hands which were still holding your bandaged one. You gave them a comforting squeeze, a silent 'thank you.'

He moved to hold both of your hands in his, lifting them to place a lingering kiss on each.

You held your breath.

Spencer Reid, you're making me fall in love with you, and you know it too, don't you? You know what you're doing.

"Better?" He asked, meeting your eyes.

You finally remembered how to breath again.

"Yes, thanks." You gave him a smile, hoping you didn't look like a red tomato.

He stepped back, giving you room to jump down. "Let's get his things."

"I hope he hasn't gotten blood all over the floor." You teased, trying to change the mood for your own heart's sake.

Spencer helped you pile Chris's small amount of items and you both tossed them out the door in front of him.

"Bitch," you heard Chris mutter under his hand that was still holding his nose. You flipped him off as you closed the door in his face, locking it behind you.

Spencer watched you with a look of amusement on his face.

"Thanks for all of this Spencer. I didn't mean for you to get caught up in all of this." You leisurely walked to him, messing with your bandages as your wounds itched.

"It's no problem. Actually, I would have been glad to punch Chris myself after what you went through. You know you're not any of those derogatory names he called you, right?"

"Yeah. I know." You nodded. "And he was right about one thing. You have everything that he doesn't have, Spence. All he has is his abs, a broken nose, and a vile personality." Spencer nodded with a shy smile.

"So- breakfast?" He suggested.

"Yes. I need coffee, and I haven't tried out my kitchen! What do you want to eat?" You asked, excitedly.

"Hmm. What's your favorite breakfast food?" Spencer asked.

"It's a weird combo, but I like omelets and blueberry muffins." You chuckled.

"Then that's what I want." He grinned.

You quieted and met Spencer's eyes, your smile dropping. A magnetic feeling pulling on your chest.

"What?" He asked, looking nervous.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you stood up on your toes and pulled Spencer by his shirt into a kiss. All of your pent up emotions had finally broken your dam of self-doubt. You didn't think about it, you just did what felt right.

Spencer's lips felt so wonderfully right locked with your own. At least, it did on your end. His lips were chapped but somehow the softest things the sensitive skin of your lips had ever felt. You felt his heart beating and a magnetic, crackling electricity. The kiss was quick, but you put all of your pent up feelings into it; hoping that could explain what you, otherwise, had no words for.

Spencer froze, his entire body going stiff.

Oh no I've fucked this up. I've really fucked this up. I have morning breath and I just technically broke up with my ex and my hair is a mess and I'm from an entirely different reality, and Spencer is not even remotely interested in me.

Your mind screamed at you. This was a mistake. You'd misread all of Spencer's good intentions as something more and now you were going to have to drown in self-doubt.

He never kissed you back. You pulled away, willing your forming tears not to fall.

"Y/N I-." Spencer softly spoke, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

"I-I'm sorry. I just- I thought. I wasn't thinking." You turned around to avoid his eyes. You didn't want to see him feel sorry for you.

"You can leave Spence, don't feel like you have to stay here for my sake." Silent tears began to fall freely, you didn't bother to wipe them away.

Without a word, Spencer walked out of your apartment, gently closing the door behind him, and taking the last of your stability with him.

You wish you could say you didn't completely break down. You wish the denial of a man you'd only recently known, in the flesh, didn't hurt so much, but it did- it really hurt. Again, you were reading him like his character, expecting him to grab your hair like he did with Cat Adams and kiss you until you'd forgotten your own name.

You might as well have imagined everything you'd perceived as acts of more-than-friendliness. This wasn't some perfect fanfiction scenario.

Spencer was a real person, and he wasn't the man you'd daydreamed about. Yet you still fell for him, hard and fast.

Now there was nothing. Your chest ached for him like magnets tugging and pulling you towards another force. You sobbed on the floor where he had left you and you felt what true loneliness was like because Spencer Reid kissed your hands and made you fall in love with him. It only took 5 days of knowing him and, just as quickly, he broke your heart. So you lay on the ground and went over the stupid kiss in your head until your stress built up and you had a panic attack.

You don't know how long you sat there with no strength to pull yourself back up. Had you cried more in the last few days than in your entire lifetime?

You checked your charging phone for the time; you had 45 minutes to get to work. You weighed the pros and cons of leaving or staying and decided that staying would be far worse on your mental health. Staying would only include wine, romance movies, and anxiety. Besides, you needed to give your phone to Garcia for tracking. You would just have to try to avoid Spencer today.

Getting ready was a difficult task. You showered, you had a good cry in the shower. You brushed your teeth, also while crying, and you put some makeup on to hide all the evidence of your crying. You decided to skip out on breakfast all together, only drinking a cup of coffee you figured out how to make in your high-tech kitchen.

While driving, you decided to play the radio. Flipping through stations, every one seemed to be playing the same song. Like some sick joke, the song was sad. So you ended up also crying while driving which is mid-life crisis-level depressing. You fixed your makeup in the rearview mirror after parking.

You were about to walk into a room of profilers and expect them to not ask you what's wrong. If they asked, you might just cry again. You walked in, flashing your badge like Spencer had shown you. Making it to the office, you luckily, ran into Garcia on the way out of the elevator.

"Honey I heard the news! Are you alright?" For a moment you stood in shock, had Spencer told everyone about the kiss already? Was he making a joke out of it? No, that's not Spencer. On or off the show, he would never.

"You have your phone right? Givemegivemegivemegiveme." She reached out and you pushed your phone in her eager hands.

"I'll phone someone when I find some information on this sicko." Garcia's heels clicked as she walked away.

You hadn't gotten one word in. At least it seemed that Spencer or Rossi had filled everyone in on your phone-call stalker and not your failure of a love life.

You caught sight of Spencer's hair through the glass doors. He always stood out on the show. His hair was constantly changing length and style to the point that you could name which season each style was from. The current one was your favorite. He wore a dark purple shirt and black vest; a black tie around his neck. He just had to wear his sleeves rolled up and prolong your torture, didn't he?

You took a deep breath and opened the doors, walking through. You felt like a gladiator walking into the colosseum, going straight for her opponent as spectators looked on to laugh at the bloodshed. You figured your desk was the one you had woken up in, which was just across from Spencer's. You would have to sit face-to-face all day. You slowly walked, watching him. His head was lowered as he read over some paperwork; flipping through the pages quickly. His eyes moved quickly, reading like the super-genius he was.

You spotted your name plaque and pulled out your chair. This grabbed the boy genius's attention. He lifted his head, looking at you with doe-eyes, as if your chest wasn't aching enough.

"Y/N." He choked.

"Spencer."

He licked his lips, preparing to say more.

"Meeting in 5." Hotch called out, tearing your gazes from one another.

You didn't even have a chance to sit down.

Spencer stood up and took a long stride to walk along next to you.

"Y/N I think we should talk." He spoke in a hushed tone that tickled your ear.

"Everything seemed pretty final this morning." You willed yourself to keep your voice steady.

"But I don't want it to be," Spencer spoke, sadly.

"Are you sure? Because it didn't seem that way to me when you walked out." You didn't mean to sound so harsh, you weren't really angry at him, this was all on you. You told him to leave out of shame.

"I thought-" Spencer frowned.

You both stood at the closed door to the roundtable room and you turned to Spencer.

"Here's what happened. I fell in love with you. I know I've only known this real you for 5 days, but I fell. Hard. You were saying and doing all of these things that made me love you, and I already had a crush on your character, and so, in a moment of weakness, I kissed you. That's what happened. I kissed you and-and you didn't kiss me back, so I know it was one sided. I let you go and I cried it out. I just want to save whatever friendship we can salvage at this point. I'm sorry I kissed you, Spencer."

Luckily, you had cried all the tears you had that morning and your words came out clear. Spencer stared at you, wide eyed and speechless. Deciding the conversation was over, you opened the door.

You took an empty seat between Rossi and JJ, Spencer moving to sit across from you, next to Morgan. You looked everywhere else but at Spencer.

Hotch soon came walking in.

"Alright, we have a case involving one of our own, Agent Y/N, you all have been informed of the situation. We're having Garcia track the phone caller's location and any identifying information we can get from the number itself. She received the call at 2:00a.m. The unsub repeated the words 'I know who you are.' When questioned, the unsub grew louder, possibly feeling provoked by her voice. The unsub hung up at 2:02 a.m. Reid arrived at Y/N's apartment at approximately 2:43 a.m. and found no signs of a break-in. Is that all correct Agent Y/N?" Hotch asked.

You nodded, 'yes.'

Just then a video call came in on JJ's laptop, Garcia popped up on the screen.

"I've worked extra fast on this one. I'll just give myself a little pat on the back. The call came from a phone booth in the outer limits of the city. The booth is literally in the middle of nowhere, there's an abandoned warehouse and gas station nearby, but that's about it. The rest is forestry. It's so well-concealed, if I was a creepy phone stalker person, this is where I'd go." She finished.

"Alright Garcia thank you, we'll call you if we need anything else." Hotch thanked, hanging up.

"I doubt this unsub will still be there, if he went this far out of his way to call Y/N, he knows we can track him to that location." JJ reasoned.

"He sounds like a prank caller, but that doesn't align with his escalating aggression. What I want to know is why he targeted Y/N, specifically." Morgan commented.

"Morgan's right, Y/N do you know anyone that could possibly want to scare you?" Rossi asked.

"There's one person. My ex, Chris, but it couldn't be him. He wouldn't drive all that way just to prank call me." Okay you were now part of one of these back and forth profiling things.

"The voice was disguised. Y/N said it was low and nasally like the Scream killer, Ghostface. This could be a slasher movie fan trying to recreate his favorite movie. We see this behavior in mostly young adults and children. The Slenderman cases being the most recent examples of these proxy killers." Spencer spoke, you quickly glanced his way, he was twiddling with a pencil. Killers? You had hardly been here and someone was already trying to murder you? You really couldn't catch a break.

"Wouldn't he say or do something more specific to that movie? Scream in particular, the phone calls were followed up by the break-ins. No, he knew she was alone and awake. He wanted to scare her, but not harm her; at least, not yet. I think he knows her, or he's been watching her. This is a classic stalker scare, a warm up before he acts." Rossi said, leaning back in his chair.

"You're saying you think his next move will be physical?" Hotch asked.

"Whether she knows it, or not. I think he'll look like a normal man, he'll watch her from afar and probably try to gain her attention to formally meet her." Rossi replied.

"That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?" Morgan asked.

Spencer leaned in. "Not at all, in fact most known cases of stalking begins at the non-physical contact level. The stalker will try to contact their victim through emails, direct messages, mail, or phone calls. From there, it escalates to more intrusive, physical behaviors such as the classic visual of stalking, spying on the victim, and eventually confronting them. It's possible this unsub has suffered from rejection or failure in the past. His narcissism makes him see himself as the real victim and he feels that he deserves the victim's affections. He'll display obvious signs of obsession, possibly outwardly showing obsessive-compulsive ticks, and, through this, he'll become fixated on the victim. Going back to the slasher scenario, stalkers will often justify themselves through believing in their own fantasies. In his head, the victim wants his attention. If he's a true narcissist, he will want to meet her in person. he'll make sure these chance meetings happen on his terms."

How the hell did he figure all of that out through a few words in a phone call?

"He's already shown outward bursts of anger over the phone. He'll want to escalate things quickly. Y/N isn't safe she needs to be put under surveillance." JJ nodded to you.

"Alright JJ and Rossi I want you to go question the ex boyfriend, Chris. Reid, Y/N, Morgan and I will scope out the telephone booth. In the meantime, Y/N, I know you can handle yourself, but if this unsub does know where you live, he is highly dangerous. Pairing up is your safest option. I don't want you going anywhere alone. You can stay with one of us for the time being."

Okay, dad.

"She can stay with me," Spencer offered a little too quickly. You leaned back in your seat, wishing to disappear. Why did Spencer want to put you through this? You were still heartbroken. This would make it impossible to move on. You needed more time.

"Um I-" You finally spoke up.

"Reid, thank you, that would be great." Hotch spoke, either not hearing you, or wanting to move on to more important business. You gave a pointed look to Spencer as he pursed his lips.

Great. Just great. What is he thinking?

************************************************************************

"Garcia was right. This unsub had a goal, he knew this place was far enough out of town that if we tracked it immediately we still wouldn't get here in time to find this guy," Morgan said as you all got out of the car.

"No one goes this far out of their way to make a simple prank call. And judging from what Spencer said about stalkers, the unsub would be too compulsive to think this far ahead. Unless, he lives around here." You spoke, looking around. This was your first real thought contribution to the BAU!

Spencer looked at you and smiled, knowingly. How was he still acting so nonchalant after all of the drama between you two?

"I don't see any tire track marks other than ours and this road is too far out from the main road for just anyone to stumble upon. Y/N's right the unsub has to live nearby. The terrain is flat and he came here on foot. I'll ask Garcia to track down any residences within a 20 mile radius." Morgan said, pulling out his phone.

"Good. I'll check out the forested perimeter and maybe that gas station. Reid, Y/N, you look around the warehouse, it's in bad shape, so watch out for any structural hazards." Hotch planned. Basically giving the Scooby-Doo "let's split up gang!" Spiel.

You sighed.

Yay, more time alone with Spencer and he's wearing that tight FBI vest, lovely. Christmas must have come early this year.

You held your firearm out like you had seen in the show; walking cautiously behind Spencer, while scoping out the perimeter.

Something caught your eye in your peripherals as you turned to look behind the building. You looked directly at a dark, distant figure, Spencer still moving forward.

You squinted in the bright sun, the figure was getting closer, and it wasn't Hotch or Morgan. It was the same figure from the hotel in Montana.

You pointed your gun at it, fear making your throat tighten.

"Spencer," you called.

He circled back next to you and pointed his firearm up, following your line of sight. You grew confused as he began to lower his weapon.

"W-What are you doing Spence?" You adjusted your footing, not sure if you wanted to run away or catch this guy; if he even was the unsub.

"Y/N, no one is there." Spencer turned to you, looking concerned.

"Are you joking? He's right there! Oh god, he's getting closer."

"What does he look like?"

"H-He has a trench coat on and a hat, like a 1950s businessman hat. He has long dark grey hair and a scraggly beard and his face is very ashy. His cheekbones are hollow, like starving hollow, not like model cheekbones hollow. He's wearing brown corduroy pants and some old brown dress shoes. He looks maybe in his 70s with a long grey beard. He's roughly around 6 ft 3in, I think." You described.

The man was now a basketball court's length away from you and Spencer.

"Where is he now?" Spencer narrowed his eyes, desperately trying to see the man.

"A few feet in front of us."

Spencer slowly moved in front of you, pushing you behind him as if he could see the man coming and protect you. The mysterious man moved closer and closer. Despite where you an Spencer were at emotionally, you appreciated his unwavering support in this moment.

"I know you," the man said; smiling and tilting his head.

"Who are you?" You asked, afraid and not sure of his intentions.

Spencer turned his head to look at you, you were staring at the man, unable to move out of fear.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is you aren't supposed to be here."

"What do you want?" He stands in front of Spencer, too close, but Spencer can't see him. You go to push Spencer out of the way, not wanting him to get hurt by someone he couldn't defend himself from, but he stood his ground and held you back.

"To take you back where you came from."

"Why?"

"You're not from here."

"So?"

"You do not belong here. You must go back."

"I'm not going anywhere with you, creep." You tightened your grip around your firearm.

"It will hurt more if you return later."

"Why do you want me to return?"

"Let's just say- So the show can return to its normal scheduling."

Way to be mysterious without giving away any tangible information.

"I don't want to leave."

"I know. You love him. How sad. You were never meant to meet. Someone made that decision. They were wrong. I will have you return." The man inched closer, but stopped suddenly, darkening his eyes at Spencer.

"Try me, bitch." You narrowed your eyes, angry that he knew your personal feelings for Spencer and angry that he wanted anything to do with your life.

"Very well, you will return later then. Don't say I didn't warn you. Your decision will not only hurt you, but it will hurt him too." The man smiled a wicked smile and turned and walked away.

You managed to release yourself from Spencer's body shielding, jumping in front of him.

"Do what you want to me, but I won't let you hurt him!" You yelled after the man.

You pulled out your gun to run after him and apprehend him. Spencer dove out, holding you back.

"There's no evidence that bullets can effect him. If I can't see him, I highly doubt they will. It might be a trap." Spencer explained.

Spencer was right, you were sure the man wasn't even human, or if you would be able to actually touch him. If he was, he was able to tap into some weird inter-dimensional, science shit that made it so Spencer couldn't see him.

Your hands shook as you pocketed your firearm.

Spencer let out a breath and spun you around, embracing you. "I couldn't protect you. I couldn't see him. I'm sorry."

"No, no it's fine Spence. He's tapped into something beyond our understanding; some more of that quantum stuff. Though, I think, somehow, you were stopping him from coming any closer to me."

"What did he want? I only caught your side of the conversation."

"He wants me to return to my reality. I asked him why and he said all this convoluted shit." You shook your head, frustrated, stepping back, but still holding Spencer's arms.

"Maybe I can decipher it."

"He said I don't belong here. I must go back. So the show can return to its normal scheduling. He said someone made the decision that I should meet you, but he doesn't agree with them. He said my decision to not freely go with him right now would hurt not only me, but also you," you paraphrased. "I don't know how to stop him. What if he succeeds? What if I'm ripped away from this life?" You rub at your temples. Dread filling your core.

"I won't let that happen."

You wanted to stay here. You could be strictly friends with Spencer Reid, but to lose him completely? That would destroy you at this point. How could he stop an unsub that he couldn't see?

************************************************************************

You returned home to pack for your stay, with Spencer as your designated chaperone. You both stayed silent on the drive there until you walked inside.

"Y/N, about what you said at work-" Spencer scratched his temple as he idled near the entryway.

"Spencer, if I'm going to be staying with you for a long period of time, I need you to drop this," you stated, beginning to ascend the stairs. You felt lightheaded as you still had neglected to feed yourself since that morning; it was evening now. You held the rail with both hands and took a deep breath.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Spencer walked up behind you.

"Fine-just-dizzy." You mumbled.

"What have you had to eat today?" Spencer asked, going into serious doctor mode.

"Coffee."

Spencer waited for you to continue. His eyebrow raised as you didn't speak.

"Just coffee? You're going to make yourself sick. Not to mention your high stress levels already, you're going to give yourself a panic attack." Spencer scolded.

"I already did this morning. I'm stressed and I don't eat when I'm stressed, okay?"

"You had a panic attack?" His face paled.

"Not a full-on one, but yes." You caught your breath and stomped to the top of the stairs. You made your way to your closet.

"Y/N we really do need to talk!" Spencer's voice grew louder as he walked in.

You pulled a suitcase out and began folding clothes inside.

"Then talk Spencer. If not now, then we have a lot of future time together to do so," you sighed.

Spencer kneeled on the floor next to you.

"When you kissed me, I thought it was a spontaneous rebound move. High stress chemicals clouding your judgement. I didn't think someone like you could actually be attracted to me."

"Spencer you've kissed far hotter women than me."

"That was on the show?!" Spencer blushed.

You nodded.

"What are you trying to say Spence?"

"I'm saying-" he licked his lips. "You're beautiful; you don't have to worry about anyone else I've kissed. You're the most fascinating person I've ever met; not just because you traveled through a multi-verse to get here. You're a dreamer, and you look at me with these doe-eyes. You're incredibly strong-willed, although now I think you're also physically strong too because your knuckles aren't extremely bruised from that punch. I want to protect you all the time, but I find you protecting me too. You're funny and I feel like you understand me more than anyone else. I-I get nervous when I'm around you and I can't articulate my thoughts, which is admittedly frustrating for someone with my IQ. I want to hold you constantly and hide you away from everything that bothers you. I actually know every English dictionary definition, and some French, of the the word 'love' and I know it encapsulates all of these other words like passion, attraction, devotion, and so on. That is the only word I can think of that properly describes what I feel for you, and every word that falls under its definition. I didn't kiss you back because I thought you didn't actually feel the same way, I thought you were full of adrenaline and anger and you needed comfort; I didn't want to take advantage of that. But now I know that I was horribly wrong and I hurt you. I am so sorry I walked out on you without explaining myself, Y/N. I-I hate that I made you cry and I understand if you don't want to be around me. I can ask Rossi if he can take you in, if that's what you want."

"Spencer" You croaked. Your throat tightening.

He wrung his hands, nervously, in his lap. Waiting on bated breath for your input.

"Please kiss me," you pleaded.

Without missing a beat, Spencer cradled your face in his hands and pulled you to him in a kiss. You immediately reciprocated.

All of that crying for this stupid genius. This man that kissed you like he could lose you at any moment.

His movements were hesitant, unsure, but determined. From an outsider's perspective, a kiss was simply skin to skin contact. You'd done it in acting classes countless times and it was just that. It's the context and emotions that make a kiss mean something. Spencer's lips pressed against yours and you'd never felt anything like it. Your lips nearly tingled, all your senses felt heightened.

You raked your hand through his hair to hold him closer. This made him bolder as he traced his tongue along your lips.

Did he even have to ask? You granted him access, opening up everything, your whole self; you wanted him to take.

Your heart knew this was special. The magnetic pull in your chest buzzed in an electric storm, finally not pulling you to an unknown force. Spencer was that force, he was the other end of the magnet, the thing that pulled you here.

You slowed the kiss. He was nervous and moving too fast. As his tongue danced with yours, you let him have his dominance, but you also guided him. The slower movements allowed you both to put more emotions into it; it was almost too sensual for a first kiss.

Spencer pulled away first, his forehead resting against yours. You leaned up and stole one more kiss, making him smile.

"I love you Spencer." You whispered.

"I love you too. The old you and the real you." He kissed you again. Your hands fell around his neck and down further to his shoulders. This was the first time you could freely touch him. Your hands reached his chest and you placed your palms flat, feeling his heartbeat. It was as erratic as yours. It was real, and it was his.

You were the one with the strength to pull away. You were still lightheaded from the lack of food and this wasn't helping. In fact everything was spinning.

"Spencer I-" Your head lolled and your body dropped forward. Spencer reached out to catch you and you fainted in his arms.

You woke up not even a minute later. Spencer was holding you, but he had positioned you so that you were lying horizontally over his lap.

"Kissing someone has never made me faint before," you mumbled, clutching your head.

"You're body was under too much stress and you've had 0 sustenance." Spencer stood, somehow easily lifting you with him. You knew he was toned, but skinny, you'd already seen him half-naked; where was he hiding this magical strength?

"Where are we going?" Your words came out slurred. Spencer answered by gently laying you on your bed, the sheets were long forgotten in the wash. You definitely would have to buy new ones.

"You are going to lay here and rest," he used the extra pillow to elevate your legs.

"Why are you lifting my legs?"

"You've fainted and you need to get your blood flowing in your brain again." He explained.

"Oh."

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, smoothing your hair back over your ear.

"Are you trying to make me faint again Reid?" This was the first time you had used his last name, you wanted to channel Hotch's energy.

You were also a little bit delirious.

"Your blood sugar and your blood pressure is low. I'm going to go downstairs and find some food with sugar and salt in it. Meanwhile; nap." He nodded.

"I'm not supposed to be left alone, Hotch's orders," you pouted.

"I'll just be downstairs."

"Fiiiiine."

You watched him smile and shake his head before turning and leaving. You listened to his steps as he walked down the stairs, counting each one, and already missing him. Ugh, you had it bad for this man, and normally you would be terrified of that fact. Terrified that someone could have so much power over you by simply just existing.

Soon enough the exhaustion finally took over and you fell asleep. When you came-to, Spencer was gently coaxing you awake.

"I thought you might want to eat out on the balcony, open some windows, and get some fresh air."

"Mmm sounds good," you groaned. You rubbed your tired eyes.

Spencer helped you up, holding your waist as you descended the stairs. You felt sluggish and tired, Spencer was right, all of the stress was catching up with you.

He helped you sit on the pretty balcony. It was enclosed, but he had propped open some of the windows inside. The smell of all the plants inside mixed with the night air, making it easier to think clearly. Spencer waited on you, first bringing out the silverware and cups, then a tray of food. The plates were covered with serving lids. You giggled at how seriously he was taking this.

"This may not be a proper dinner but-" Spencer lifted the lids. "I think I owe you this."

Your jaw dropped, as if he had just proposed. Omelets and blueberry muffins.

Spencer Reid was better than his Criminal Minds character, you determined; his fans had no idea.

Next Chapter

[illfoandillfie]

ok sorry but how many people do yall think rog has ever slept with cos i’m guessing four figures no lie

okay, i don’t normally respond to messages like this because, frankly, i dont really feel like its my place to speculate on roger’s sex life. Theres a difference between writing a fiction story with a character named after and inspired by him and discussing his actual personal life which i have no real knowledge about. What he gets up to in his free time is between him and the women he does it with. but i didn’t really feel able to ignore this one. please don’t take this as me telling you off or shutting you down or anything like that. If you want to speculate about roger’s body count thats up to you, go nuts with it. and i love when you guys message me and I don’t want to discourage you from feeling like you can talk to me or just send me your random thoughts or whatever about any subject. But I feel like I need to address why I disagree with this sentiment. Also so I can ask ya’ll to please stop asking me questions like this. 

So firstly, just to get this out of the way. 1000 is a lot. even 100 is a lot. I think if rog had slept with 1000+ people he’d have a least a few illegitimate kids and probably would have been checked into rehab for sex addiction (not to mention STIs and such because lbr people in the 70s specifically probs werent the most careful especially if drugs were involved). I mean even if we were going to say Rog got lucky with a different woman after every show we wouldn’t reach 1000. According to google, Queen played around 700 shows in their entire career. If we add shows played by The Cross thats only another 67 odd shows (according to wikipedia). 

now, i think there are 3 things that contribute to this idea of roger as especially promiscuous. 1. His attitude/demeanour/general way he sells himself. 2. the generally held conceptions about rock stars and rock star behaviour. and 3. what i’m going to call fandom dumbassery (but i mean that with a lot of love) 

So lets start with the man himself. Roger Taylor is loud and opinionated and not particularly humble. He knows he’s talented and attractive though for at least some time he was a little self-conscious about how feminine he looked. He’s always up for a laugh, likes to party and has admitted to enjoying his drink and his women. He’s had kids with two different women, who’s relationships “overlapped”, and is currently married to a third. At least that’s the perception we can gleam from his interviews, behind the scenes videos, and other public appearances. 

It’s easy to see how that image leads to accusations of being a womaniser and a cheater and basically a bit of a slut lmao. But here’s the thing. I think Roger, in part, markets himself that way. The thing is, if you look at his solo songs and the relationships he currently has with his kids and their mothers, and things other people have said about him/his relationships over the years, I think it’s fair to say he also has a bit of a romantic streak maybe? idk if thats the best way of describing it...he’s self confessed to not being a fan of marriage and the like but he’s not opposed to writing and singing love songs and seems to believe in ~love~ as a concept/power. He certainly cares deeply for those closest to him. Whether or not that translates to an agreement with monogamy I can’t say for certain. It’s hard to draw conclusions here because a lot of what we know of his personal life was fed to us through magazines and news paper gossip column articles and they were never looking for the truth, they were looking for scandal and sensationalism. 

For instance the whole thing with the overlapping relationships. I think most people who have read anything about roger and dom and debbie realise that it’s not as cut and dry as “he was cheating with debbie and left dom for her” even though that was the story being sold by the press at the time. The reality (or at least the version closer to reality since obviously no one outside of them and whoever they were closest with knows all the nitty gritty details) is that rog and dom had already split when they got married. it was a marriage of convenience to make sure her and the kids would be looked after financially etc even after he’d moved out. So while it looked to the public like he married one chick and 30 odd days later was spotted with another, there really wasn’t anything untoward happening.  I’m not saying he never had casual hookups or one night stands and i’m not saying he never cheated, but I do think some of it’s been exaggerated, whether by him to encourage the rock star perception or by newspaper/magazine articles.

Now, obviously, we have stories of rog, particularly in the late 60s and into the 70s, being with multiple women. There’s that bit in the Interview with a Queen “Groupie” (which is a fantastic read and i defs recommend checking it out if you havent already) where she talks about roger being a chick magnet and says that, at the time, it was pretty common to sleep about. But, she also says she didnt notice him doing it more or less than anyone else and seemed to mostly be with Jo (his girlfriend at the time). This is the same Jo that got a mention in the Queen in 3D book (”i think we all had the feeling that these two were together for life, but it was not to be”). Conversely, we have that quote (which i cannot find rn but i’ll link it when i do) about roger sometimes having one girl upstairs while another waited in the garage for them to be finished. I think it was about Rog in the mid-late 60s in Truro but whatever. Obviously he wasn’t anywhere near celibate and it’s likely was sleeping with people outside of his relationship(s). But one has to assume that as he got older those kinds of antics stopped happening, at least as frequently.

There is one potential story that I remember reading somewhere along the way about Roger cheating on Debbie while she was pregnant. But, take that with a grain of salt because I can’t find the article again and also I think it was from like The Sun or something equally as rubbish. The press was notoriously always printing mean shit about the boys and that might have been another thing they published to create scandal. Even so, if we assume it’s legit that is still only 1 story. Not to throw him under the bus but Brian is the one with multiple confirmed affairs, who literally wrote songs about it all. So why is Roger the one with sleazy reputation? 

This is where my second and third points come in. There is a pervasive idea about what it means to be a rock star. The whole trashing hotel rooms, sleeping with groupies, passing out drunk every night thing. And I’m sure that Queen was like that to an extent. I think it’s pretty common knowledge that all of them got up to shit on the road. Between innuendo laden interviews and songs, videos and accounts of their parties, stories CT has put online, and other stories like the one of Roger bringing out lines of coke as dessert when he was having dinner with motley crue. They definitely embraced the rock and roll lifestyle. And I think with Roger’s personality being what it is, it’s easy to link him to those traditional rock star tropes and say it was all true all the time. I also think Roger has done nothing to counter those beliefs. He’s been open about how he wanted to be a rock star since the minute he picked up a guitar, he’s labelled himself as a great lay in magazines, he’s joked about girls pulling their tits out over dinner in interviews (though he said he didnt take her home), he’s written songs like One Night Stand and Dirty Mind and Airheads which explicitly mention his preference for women and alcohol. I think it’s fair to say he’s kind of encouraged that view of himself. Whether it was just a side effect of being part of such a well known band and having such a boisterous demeanour/personality, or whether it was intentional as a version of promotion i don’t know. maybe a mix of them? I mean I’m sure it didn’t hurt sales and stuff. it’s the whole guys want to be him, girls want to be with him thing, right? Maybe that’s just me being cynical though lmao. 

Anyway, the fandom brain has taken all of that and compressed it into memes and jokes about rog being the band slut. Which i’m not complaining about, lord knows i’ve made the same jokes and reblogged the same posts and used those tropes in my fics. They’re funny and lend themselves to interesting fic concepts. Plus, i think roger is the sort of person who would probably laugh about most of it. But it’s an idea that keeps feeding into itself through fandom, perpetuating what is probably a misguided view of his personal life.

Again, I am sure he’s had his fair share of fun and I’m not trying to make out that he was always perfect or whatever, but I don’t think he’s been with as many women as the popular discourse would imply and I certainly don’t think he’s in the 4 digit numbers. 

[casey-v]

Part 3: “If anything happens to her...”

Ethan x Casey

Warning: angst

Word count: 1,6K

Disclaimer: all characters belong to PB

Part 1: “...ending this...” Part 2: “Talk to him!”

I had to delete the first version, tumblr was messing with me and got the order totally wrong, don’t know why. I hope this time it’s right.

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

Ethan was pacing up and down his office. He had desperately tried to focus on his work, but instead he tortured himself again and again with every word Casey had said to him a few days ago.

“Working with you makes me miserable. And that’s why I’m leaving the diagnostics team.”

He had honestly thought they could make a strictly professional relationship work. After fleeing to the Amazon, he was determined to keep his distance. But there was something about her that made it impossible for him to stick to his intentions. And now he had not only lost her, but also ruined her career. All sacrifices had been in vain.

Part of him wished that he had never met her. Before she came to Edenbrook he had had a good life. He wouldn’t exactly say that he had been happy, but he had been content. He had found fulfillment in his job and his little spare time he had filled with cooking, reading historical books, the opera and mostly staying to himself. There had been a few women, but never anything serious. Never had there been anyone he wanted in his life for more than a limited time. He didn’t believe in long term relationships thank to his parents.

But now there was Casey.

She was constantly in his head, at work and at home, by day and by night, in his waking hours and in his dreams. Only a smile from her or a gentle touch made his day. He couldn’t imagine a life without her anymore. He missed her so much, it hurt. These intense feelings scared him.

Was she right? Was being afraid of his feelings the real reason for his refusal, not her job and his ethics? Way back, when they had been to Derry Roasters for the first time and she had tried to analyze him, she had said

“You’ve carried an anger in you for a long time, so long you’re used to it.”

He had denied it at the time, but she was right, of course she was. There were wounds from his childhood, that never had been healed. It was hard for him to trust anyone. Hence, he had learned to rely only on himself.

  He walked over to the window and stared into the pouring rain. He hadn’t dared to go to Kyra’s funeral, although he longed to be there for Casey, to take her in his arms and console her. But she had made it perfectly clear, that those days were over.

“Don’t you dare ever touch me again!”

These words had almost killed him. Tough even worse was the way she had looked at him when she said it. There had been so much hatred in her eyes, it felt like his heart stopped beating.

  He banged his fist against the window. Now the scalpel jockey was there with her, to give her comfort and support. Jealousy spread in his stomach, just as before when he saw her leaving the hospital with him. When Casey started her intern year there had been a lot of gossip about her and Lahela, there were stories about on-call rooms and supply closets. Ethan had often seen them flirting at Donahue’s. But soon the gossip had died down and when he himself got closer to her, this never seemed to be an issue.

Were there any feelings left? Would the surgeon take his place in her heart?

  Ethan rubbed his neck and sighed devasted. There had to be something he could do. He couldn’t afford to lose her. He went over to his desk, sat down and grabbed his phone. Words might not be enough, but first he had to get her to at least talk to him again. He started typing a message for her, shook his head frustrated and deleted everything. He tried it again and again, but nothing seemed right.

After an hour and what felt like a hundred deleted attempts, he finally tapped ‘send’. He stared at the screen in disbelief. Never had he texted anything similar let alone spoken those words.

  At that moment, the door to his office burst open and Bryce and Jackie stormed in. They were very agitated and both spoke at the same time. “Did you talk to Casey?” - “Have you heard of her” - “Was she here?” – “Did you see her?”

Ethan felt an uneasiness evolve, rose from his chair and met the two residents halfway. “What happened? Weren’t you at the funeral together?”

Both answered simultaneously again, their anxiety obvious. “Of course we were there.” – “She was there with us. But then she ran away.” – “She was about to say a few words but then she had kind of a breakdown and ran away.” - “She started to cry mid-sentence and just left.” – “When we started to look for her, she was nowhere to be found.”

Panic took over when Ethan had comprehended their words. He approached them accusingly. “Why didn’t you run after her immediately?”

Bryce turned to face Jackie who guiltily directed her gaze to the ground, both recalling the scene in the cemetery. He had tried to go after Casey, but Jackie had held him back: 

“Leave her alone for a few minutes”. 

Bryce was angry at Jackie and at himself for listening to her, but now he turned his anger on Ethan. He took a step forward and pushed the attending violently, so he struggled to maintain his balance. Ethan froze up, staring wide-eyed at Bryce, who started to jell at him. “How dare you, you jerk! It’s your fault she ran away. If anything happens to her…!”

Jackie pushed herself in between and gently held back Bryce. “Stop it. This doesn’t help. We have to try to find her together.” He muttered something unrecognizable but stepped back.

It was hard for Ethan to keep his self-control. He tried to ignore Bryce and turned to Jackie. “What have you done so far? Doesn’t she answer her phone?” “Her purse was still on the chair when she left. She has no phone, no keys, no money. We searched all around the cemetery. Then Sienna and Elijah went home to wait for her. They’re calling all our friends right now. Bryce and I came here.”

Ethan regained his composure. With the efficiency of the experienced doctor he gave orders. “Ok, that’s what we do: page me Dr. Trinh’s phone number. We all will report back to her. Lahela, you check out Donahue’s and Derry Roasters and search the streets around the hospital. Dr. Varma, you look for her here at the hospital, check every on-call room or supply closet and ask every nurse or doctor you can find, if they’ve seen her. I will take my car and drive around.”

He grabbed his keys and his phone and was out the door before the other doctors had the opportunity to say otherwise.

  It was already getting dark and Ethan was still driving through the streets of Boston in his car. Once he had left the hospital, he had gone straight to his apartment hoping that Casey would be there waiting for him. But of course, she wasn’t. Then he had searched the entire area surrounding the cemetery and then went back to check every street near the hospital. All the time, rain kept pouring down from dark clouds. When he had run out of ideas he just drove randomly through the streets of the city.

Almost every ten minutes he called Sienna for news, but so far no one had seen her or heard from her. He had also asked Sienna to call the police and all the hospitals to check if there had been any accidents involving an unknown young woman, but thank god nothing there either. Ethan didn’t really believe in God, but he sent prayers up in the air. His fear got worse by the minute and he saw images of her in his head: Casey run over by a car, Casey dead in a park, robbed, mugged, raped, Casey jumping off a bridge, floating in the river. Suddenly, he remembered something she had said to him as they walked on the beach in Miami.

“Water always has such a soothing effect on me. Whenever I’m troubled, I try to find time to sit by the water whether it’s the ocean, a lake or a river. That makes me feel better instantly.”

That was the last straw he clung to, although it was no easy task, because in Boston water seemed to be everywhere. He concentrated his search on all roads along the river, but it seemed hopeless to recognize someone in the dark through the heavy rain. The desperation lay heavy on him when at last he saw a figure sitting on a bench in the shimmer of a streetlamp. Ethan quickly pulled over, jumped out of the car and started running. He almost tripped in his haste.

Casey sat slumped in her seat, totally soaked, the wet fabric of her dress clung to her body. Her face was pale, her lips had turned blue, shivers ran through her body. Ethan stopped next to the bench, but she didn’t seem to notice him. She stared into the water in front of her.

Apparently, she was wasn’t hurt. Ethan felt great relief, a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. But now that he had found her, he was unsure, what to do. Would she even talk to him? Over and over again he had practiced what he wanted to tell her, but at that moment his mind went blank.

He hesitated, then took a step towards her.

“Casey….”

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

Part 4: “Don’t get her hopes up”  (Ethan is taking care of Casey)

Tags: @queencarb  @utterlyinevitable @schnitzelbutterfingers @nerdydinosaursweets @eramsey28​ @mrsdrakewalkerblog​ @starrystarrytrouble​

[amerrierworld]

Babysitter (pt 6)

Thor (Ragnarok) - fanfiction

Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Summary: tensions finally break.

Characters: Hela x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,873

Warnings: it’s alllll lovey-dovey first-time smut. pt 7 will continue the morning after!

Time stood still for a moment. You squeezed your eyes shut, lips pressed against Hela’s and your arms trembling as you hovered over her. There was no response from the Goddess beneath you for a moment, and you were sure she would kill you this time.

Then, a hand wandered up your neck and cupped the back of your head, holding you even closer as her wonderful and delicious lips opened up for you.

You kissed her more firmly this time, daring to let a tongue swipe against her full lower lip and the cunning Goddess breathed a sigh of pleasure. As you continued with your exploration, you bit down on her lip following another swipe of your tongue, and her grip hardened, followed by a hitched breath that made your insides melt.

She pulled away, watching you closely, her hand raking through your hair.

“Y/N..” she breathed, her voice impossibly lower. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you muttered, pressing your forehead against hers. “I think I’ve been sure since the minute you walked into my living room.”

“But I’m.. you’re supposed to be guarding me,” she responded, a twinkle in her eyes as your own darted down to her full mouth as she spoke.

“Mhm, and I am. What better place to guard you than from my own bed?”

She grinned, grabbing your waist and suddenly you were on your back, Hela hovering over you this time. 

“That might prove a little difficult, given that I’m clearly in control,” she murmured, a hand trailing seductively to the hem of your shirt and slipping up underneath. You let her pull it up and over your head. You pushed away any insecure thoughts about your body as you laid there, arms above your head with Hela’s eyes roving over you, her jaw dropping just a little.

“Now who’s in charge?” you giggled at her reaction, gleefully happy at her lust-filled gaze. You pressed your hips up against hers and made to pull off her shirt as well but she grasped your wrists and pinned you down.

“Not so fast, little miss,” she said in a hushed tone. “You’ve already seen me. Now let me see you.”

Your heart pounded as she glanced down your body, noting every curve, every spot. You had no idea if Hela had been with women before, but you were convinced that even if she hadn’t, she was clever enough to make it seem like she’d done it loads of times before. 

Her head dipped down and a slick tongue pressed against your right nipple and you cried out, back arching at the sudden sensation. You felt her smirk against your skin. 

A thigh came up between your legs, and you immediately started rocking your hips against the firm flesh of her toned leg. 

“So eager,” Hela whispered against your breast, her hands coming down to knead at your chest. 

Her touch was cold against your skin but also soft and gentle at the same time. The contrast drove you crazy, and you bit down on your hand as her lips trailed along your breasts and nipples, down to your belly button and staying there for a moment.

You had assumed Hela would be an unforgiving, ferocious lover. And part of you still believed that was definitely true, but here she was, bathing you in kisses and strokes, and your heart swelled just briefly.

“I could be the roughest of partners when it comes to bed play,” she said, as if reading your thoughts, “but not the first time. Never the first time. And certainly not with someone like you.”

She had come up to look you in the eyes again, and you wanted to ask her what she meant, but deft fingers pulled your shorts and underwear off in a swift motion, and you quickly forgot about anything else. 

As she continued to press kisses against your lips, cheeks, neck, and her fingers pulled at your nipples, and dug into your thighs, you wanted desperately to see her again. You’d only really gotten a quick look when she had shimmered her armour away, and this time you wanted a nice, full view.

You tugged at her shirt as she did with you, and she obediently let you pull it off. It fell down to the floor, somewhere. 

Her breasts were larger than you’d assumed at first, a lovely curve and swell fitting the muscular yet slender figure she had. You cupped the both of them gingerly, and she gasped.

You stilled, wondering if your touch was going to be too much for her, but she didn’t push you away. You trailed fingers over every patch of skin along her breasts and upper stomach and she seemed to melt in your hands. 

“You’re so warm,” she whispered. So she felt the contrast too.

“And you’re cold,” you muttered, fingers rubbing gently over her nipples that hardened instantly. 

Then, you reached up, fingers cupping her neck still wearing the shock collar. In a brief moment, you paused, and she opened her eyes to look at you watching as you thought. You let go and shimmied to the side of the bed, grabbing the remote control for the collar and pressing a button that quickly released the thing from its tight lock. 

Instant relief surged through Hela as your gentle hands pulled the thing off of her neck. She reached up to rub at the skin but you stopped her. 

“No,” you whispered, and you sat up to come close against her. The skin on her neck was a little paler than the rest, and slightly reddened from the pressure of the choker that had been in place for so long now. A slight stab of guilt filled you at the sight, but Hela’s hips began rocking impatiently and you focused at the task at hand.

Your hands reached to cup her ass and pull her closer against you, your centres rubbing against each others thighs and you began sucking and licking the abused skin. Her high-pitched whine of delight at the feeling nearly pushed you over the edge. 

She was drenched. You could feel it through her shorts and the way her nails dug in your shoulders as she rocked in your lap. Your hands slid inside the shorts and rubbed along her ass, enjoying the smooth skin. 

You yourself were no better, you had to fight every instinct not to rock against Hela and cum instantly. You continued to kiss and soothe her neck with your tongue and lips, until Hela seemed to be trembling, and her hands flew to your hair to pull you back with a delightful tug. 

“You think I’d give control up so easily?” she hissed, and you smirked. Her mouth attacked yours, desperate and passionate this time, and you moaned into it, pulling her as close as you could.

“Lie down,” she said, pulling away with swollen lips. You obeyed and watched while she stood on her knees on the bed, towering above you, and cheekily sliding the shorts down her legs, your mouth watering at the sight of her.

She flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and grinned mischievously. “Like what you see?”

You could only nod.

“Good,” she said, “because we’re nowhere near finished.”

She pulled your legs apart with strong hands; hell, she could probably force you into any position with the strength she carried. She lifted one of your legs slightly and hooked one of her own around your waist, and you held your breath as you could feel her almost pressed up against you, slick with arousal and the lovely smell of her sex reaching your nose, making your head drowsy with need.

Her nose rubbed against yours and her mouth breathed a sentence over yours.

“If you truly want this-,” she whispered.

“I do.”

“Things will not be the same when we finish,” she murmured. 

“I know,” you said, running a hand up her side comfortingly. “I don’t want it to be the same, Hela. I want this. You. Make me yours.”

A look of possessiveness came over Hela’s face and she breathed in deeply, settling her cunt against yours, making you groan at the feeling of her against you. You couldn’t tell where you ended and she began.

And when she started rocking, you could feel it deep inside you, as if she’d opened up your soul and buried herself deep. God, things would really never be the same again for you now.

Hela fucked you slowly, rubbing against you and making you feel every inch of her. You breathed out words of incoherent pleading and Hela kissed you over and over and over again. 

“Ah, God,” you nearly sobbed at the feeling of the achingly slow buildup to a thundering orgasm. “Please, Hela. Fuck me, I need more.”

Hela stilled for a moment and you opened your eyes as they’d been squeezed shut. Her green eyes seemed to glow in the dark, feline and sharp, and your breath picked up when suddenly her full body slammed against yours, hands pinning yours against the pillows once more, and her teeth biting harshly along your collarbone.

Her pace became quick and short, sending sharp thrusts of pleasure up your spine, and you screamed when you came, muffled by Hela’s hair. The pleasure shook throughout your whole body, down to your toes, making your whole body and mind feel hazy and numb.

Hela came soon after, your cries of pleasure and needy thrusts pushing her over the edge. You felt her spasm against your body, both your inner thighs slick with each other’s arousal, her usually contained voice letting out broken gasps and cries against your neck. Her hands trembled and you managed to wring your arms loose from her grasp to wrap around her shaking body, covered in a cool sweat. 

Her legs gave out and she slumped against your form, both of you breathing heavily. Your body still tingled, you’d never cum like that during sex. It had felt otherworldly, something beyond human understanding that you couldn’t quite comprehend but enjoyed immensely. 

Hela’s soft kisses and licks upon your neck and cheek brought you back to reality. With her hands on your waist, she pushed herself up enough to make eye contact with you and you smiled a sleepy, satisfied smile.

"I could do that forever,” you muttered. 

“Careful what you wish for,” she responded, pinching your side playfully. You giggled and kissed her again, breathless and needy.

She rolled onto her side to give you some room to breathe but you turned your body to face her anyways and draped a lazy arm around her middle to keep her close to you. 

Hela watched your eyes droop in a content expression, hands stilling as you nearly fell asleep and her breath caught in her throat.

“Y/N.. I..”

“Hm?” you muttered, sleepily. “What is it?”

Hela paused for a moment, and then the tension left her body, instead coming closer towards you and dipping her head to find the crook of your neck like she always does.

“It’s of no matter,” she said softly against your skin. “We should sleep.”

You hummed in agreement, holding her tightly as you slept.

 A/N: Whoop! This would kinda be a nice place to end this series; and I guess if you’re satisfied after the official ‘consummation’ by all means, let this be the end! But I have more plaannnsssss, cause I’m evil. You don’t get a happily ever after that easily around here >:)

taglist: @midnight-lestrange​ @cheerfullyvenomous @an-lover @germansarechill @gaylorrds @amii-nyc @waitingfortheendtocome @novakitten0901 @existentialcrisiscat @marvels-writings 

[damienthepious]

hello loves. I knew this was going to be my last Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday offering until december, so I wanted to make sure it counted. My goals for this month? Finish that little one-two punch fic from earlier, publish a 100th fic, and...

well...

finish this. So. Here we go...

Scattered On My Shore (Chapter 19 - End)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [Ch 12] [Ch 13] [Ch 14] [Ch 15] [Ch 16] [Ch 17] [Ch 18] [ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum & The Keep

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Pre-Relationship, (for the three of them. it’s established r/d), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, (this will also be), Enemies to Lovers, (for damien and arum eventually lol), Mutual Pining, canon typical Arum ignoring feelings

Fic Summary: Strange things wash up out of the lake near Rilla’s hut, on occasion. But this monster… this monster is certainly the strangest.

Chapter Summary: Stay 'till you can breathe like normal people do / I've got room in my house for you

Chapter Notes: End of the road, huh? Never dreamed this fic would get this long, never dreamed it would mean this much to me. This is the longest piece of fiction I've ever written, and the longest work I've ever completed by a country mile. Thank you for hanging in there with me. Thank you for reading. Thank you for every kudos and comment and bookmark. Thank you. Chapter summary from the song Midland, by The Mountain Goats. Have I ever shared my playlist for this fic? See the end of the chapter notes, I'll stick a link there.

~

The first night on the road home is probably the most difficult.

It's-

It's the first time that Rilla has gone to bed without Arum in literal shouting distance in… in months.

She doesn't say anything about it. She doesn't know what to say about it. Arum is safe, and she and Damien are going home, and they're going to see him again. They are. It's stupid to get all emotional about the fact that they- they're just going to need to deal with a little separation, for a few weeks or so.

Damien douses the fire as Rilla steels herself, flattening her face, arranging their bedroll. Damien comes to lay down beside her, and when he slips his arms around her, she tries to sigh, and- her breath catches.

Damien does not flinch. He presses his lips just above her brow, and she can feel the sympathetic tension in his arms as they settle in the bedroll, curling against each other, as close as they can manage despite the heat.

"I know," he whispers, and Rilla grits her teeth. "I know, my love. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she manages. "Nothing to be sorry about."

"Of course it will be a challenge, this journey," Damien murmurs into her hair. "Especially this night. He is still so close, speaking relatively. So close we can still see that subtle, mellow glow from his swamp on the horizon. So close, and yet… riding away from him aches in my heart like a betrayal. We must, of course. Our duties, our lives… and I miss the Citadel as well. Miss the safety and warmth of your hut, miss… ah," she feels his lip curl into a small smile against her temple. "Ah, but there is the other side of the dilemma, yes? It is so difficult to think of your home, now, without…"

Without Arum there, too.

Rilla sniffs lightly, readjusting her grip on Damien beneath the heavy cloth, and then she pokes him in the side, making him exhale a gust of laughter.

"Faster we fall asleep, faster we'll be on the road again," she mutters. "Faster we're home, faster we'll find out exactly what the hell that plant he gave us actually does."

"Ah- right. I suppose you're right, my love."

"Just-" she clocks her head off his cheek, pursing her lips when that makes him laugh again. "Shush. Sleep now, mope later."

He hums an agreement, soft and soothing, and settles beside her. "Goodnight, my flower. I love you."

Rilla manages the ghost of a smile, feeling one of Damien's hands gently caressing up and down her back. "I love you too. Now go to sleep already."

He nods, light laughter still on his lips, and then he kisses her cheek one more time before he closes his eyes, and Rilla sighs and closes her eyes as well.

She doesn't exactly take her own advice, though.

The discomfort, the worry, the knowledge that she can't just call out and make sure that Arum's still okay- her mind won't slow down enough for sleep to take her, not for what feels like a long time.

It's okay, though. It's okay.

Damien is here with her. His hand keeps up that steady rhythm, his palm soft as his fingers trace up and down her back, gentle as rain, and clearly he's not exactly drifting off either.

They don't say anything else. Rilla thinks they both know it won't do any good, won't make them feel any better. They don't speak, but they can still hold each other, silent and longing despite themselves, and eventually, eventually, they will sleep.

And tomorrow they'll be another step closer to home.

~

The temperature in the Keep is the same as it always has been, but Arum finds himself cold, more often than not. The remainder of his injuries itch . Amaryllis left him with a number of salves to apply, to reduce the scarring, to speed the already-sped healing process, but it is… strange, to apply it himself. It felt different, before, smoothed across the ragged scabs by her soft, attentive, confident fingers. His own scales are cool. His own fingers do not hold the same softness. It feels perfunctory, now. Awkward and stiff. And-

When she finished tending to him, rewrapping bandages or checking his temperature or applying salve, Amaryllis would always… touch him, then. A gentle tap, on his shoulder, on his elbow. A silent signal, accompanied with a smile, to let him know she was done, before she would stand straighter and turn to attend to other tasks.

Once, when he is done smoothing his fingers across his fading wounds, he reaches across his body and taps his own elbow, hesitant, and then he feels so utterly foolish, so strangely empty, that he-

He does nothing. He simply hurts, for a long moment, before he sighs and sets the salve aside.

The Keep tries, in its way, to soothe this pain as it is soothing his actual injuries, but it is… not precisely the same. He is grateful for the Keep's attempts at physicality, grateful for the touch of vines, grateful to sleep cocooned in soft, oversized petals, even if it makes him feel like a coddled hatchling again.

("You're healing," Amaryllis says, stern and gentle. "Being rough on yourself is only going to make it take even longer. Just- let me take care of you, you big stubborn idiot.")

He misses her. He misses them both. He knew he would, before they left, but-

He spent so, so long missing the Keep. He is quite tired of missing.

~

During the day, they ride.

They can travel much more quickly, without needing to worry over the wounds of an injured monster. It will make the return trip substantially faster, but-

Neither of them feel as if it is truly going faster.

It reminds Rilla of paradoxes. It reminds Damien of a chiasmus, the reversal with new perspectives. Neither of them discuss it, though they both urge the horse faster, both eye the horizon with skeptical intent, as if it is widening from them deliberately.

It is a relief, not to worry over Arum's safety while they ride, not to have to duck their heads and avoid the eyes of other travelers, not to need to lie. They don't need to slow down to check him over and make sure none of his injuries have started bleeding, they don't need to break from travel to find a safe place hidden far away from the road to rest in each night. It's another odd overlay- the hurt of leaving him behind shaded by the relief of knowing that he's safe, and home, and healing. Rilla can't stop herself from mentioning where she thinks he'll be in his recovery day by day, based on her estimates considering how the Keep seemed to be accelerating the healing process.

Last of the bandages off, today, I'd bet, she says, absent as they ride, her eyes distant, and Damien nudges the horse a little faster.

Replacement wrap for the crack in his horn, today, I think, she says, and Damien remembers the elegant curves that grace Arum's head, his throat aching.

He should be shifting to the next set of exercises for his wrist around now, she mumbles as they sit beside the fire. He'd better've remembered, she adds with a frown, and Damien pulls her even closer.

Rilla does not say that she misses him. Not in so many words. Damien follows her example, though he often finds himself glancing back the way they came, watching as the distance between the pair of them and Lord Arum grows, clutching his heart to stifle the bittersweet pang at his center.

In the small stolen bits of time when they are not riding, eating, or sleeping, Rilla likes to examine Arum's gift. She gently lifts the wrapped plant out from the saddlebag that has become its temporary home, settling it in her lap and squinting at it, observing the structure of the leaves, the colors, carefully easing her fingers into the dirt to determine the root structure.

She hasn't seen anything exactly like it before, she explains to Damien, and the intensity of her focus makes his heart thrum with fondness and familiarity. She narrows her eyes at the small stalk, the waxy purple and green leaves on the trio of branches at the top (Damien remembers Arum's glossy green scales, his violet eyes, and he aches again with longing), and she purses her lips. Native to the swamp, she decides. It must be. It doesn't… seem magical, so she isn't sure what Arum could have meant when he gave it to them, but- well, it's not like Rilla has any of her more delicate instruments here on the road with her. She can't exactly test it, or put some cells under a microscope. She just does her best to water it enough to keep the soil wrapped at its base at a consistent moisture level, and she turns it over in her mind while she's prevented by pesky lack of resources from turning it over in reality.

Neither of them mention their fondness for the plant, either. It reminds them both of Arum, of the Keep, of the swamp, and even while Rilla frowns at her lack of knowledge, that reminds her of Arum too. It makes her scowl, and smile, and she wishes he was here to smack him for leaving her with a mystery deliberately, the sly monster that he is. She wishes he was here for a number of other reasons, too, but that's beside the point.

Damien, for his part, cannot say if he has ever had so many new verses dancing in his head at once. The plant is such a beautiful little metonymy, such a hopeful tether, and though he cannot help but yearn, his yearning still feels safe, like a source.

The nights…

The nights remain difficult. The midpoint of their journey is especially so- as distant from Rilla's home as they are from Arum himself, the night particularly dark this deep in the wilderness, comforted by each others arms and little else besides.

They wake bleary, but relieved to have put another night behind them. The help each other to their feet, and they ride.

~

The representative is halfway between the border of the swamp and the Keep when Arum finally allows the denizens of his swamp to do as they wish, to descend upon this unfortunate creature and chase him back out the way he came.

Arum steps from the portal just at the edge of his territory, just as the faun stumbles the final few steps backwards over the loose remnants of the border wall Arum and the Keep have been slowly dismantling, and the monster falls halfway into mud with a yelp and his hooves in the air.

Arum lifts a hand, and his denizens abandon their pursuit, birds and amphibians and mammals retreating back into the swamp and returning to their lives, and Arum looks down at the creature. He folds his arms primly behind himself, glaring hard over his snout until the faun notices him in his scrabbling.

He yelps again, losing his grip on a vine beside him and planting his face in the mud, and Arum tilts his head.

"No, no," he says, his voice low and murmuring and magnanimous. "By all means, take your time."

The creature pants, staring up at him, and then he scrambles backwards and rolls up on his hooves, his frame hunched in obvious terror.

"… Well?" Arum drawls after the panting silence draws long. "I don't expect you would have come this far for nothing, hm?"

The faun blinks, blank, and then he shakes his head quickly and his furry fingers fumble at the satchel at his side. "I- yes I- I have been tasked to deliver a m-message and-"

Arum takes a step closer, and the creature's words fly from his tongue, the muscles in his legs bunching as if to bolt. "A message…" he repeats slowly. "How… interesting."

The faun opens his mouth again, trembling, but the words seem to catch in his mouth as Arum looms.

"You, little creature," Arum says, very slowly, "look as if you have seen a ghost. Why, may I ask, would that be the case?"

"I-" the monster bites his tongue, glances aside as if hoping for some sort of help, and then he looks to Arum again. "I was told- I was- you were supposed to be-"

"Dead?"

The faun flinches, and Arum does not let himself feel guilty, considering that this poor little fool is only adjacent to the situation. The point needs be made, and since Arum cannot safely make it to the Senate in person this will have to do. He does soften the glare in his eyes, though, coiling his tail as he waits for the creature to respond.

"I am- I am to seek the current ruler of- of-"

"I am Lord Arum, ruler of the Swamp of Titan's Blooms," Arum says, flat and mild. "Will that suffice for you, then?"

The faun stumbles back another step, his shoulders hitting a tree. "I-I-I represent the Senate a-and they have- have sent me to-"

"The last creature who spoke to me on behalf of your Senate tried to plant a blade in my spine." Arum tilts his head in the other direction, leaning down and close so he may hiss his next words eye-to-eye with this creature. "She missed. Do you believe that your aim will be more true?"

The faun swallows, visibly, his eyes wide and his hands trembling, though he seems too frightened, now, to try to move at all. "I… I am not- not an assassin, I am simply-"

"Delivering a message, as you said." Arum straightens, raising an eyebrow as he stares down his snout at the monster. "To the current ruler of the swamp." Arum grins, a conspicuous display of fangs. "I am he. What missive did the Senate intend for me, then?"

With shaking hands, the faun pulls a scroll from the satchel at his side, and holds it out.

Arum takes the parchment gently, though the faun still flinches, and he reads the letter with careful attention, his brows climbing. He snorts, eventually, folding the paper between his claws and giving the courier an amused sort of look. "The previous ruler of this swamp was killed in the effort to eradicate the human infection," he parrots with half a laugh, and then he shakes his head. "I suppose that is one way in which to spin the truth. Was killed. A delightfully overt lack of active perpetrator in that claim, hm?"

The faun opens his mouth as if to reply, but then he simply gives a sharp nod, fear still obvious in his stance, in his eye, and Arum sighs.

"Well. You may tell the Senate that if they wish to broker an alliance with the Lord of the Swamp, they may come to entreat him personally . As things stand, The Swamp of Titan's Blooms and its residents are no longer a part of the effort to eradicate humanity, nor do they acknowledge the leadership of the Senate. If the Senate wishes to plead its case they may do so here, where their deceit shall not find purchase. Otherwise," Arum growls low, "my lands may simply find other allies. We may still, regardless of whatever overtures the Senate decides to make."

"Y-you- you want me t-to- to tell them-" the faun's eyes widen to saucers, his heartbeat approaching hummingbird speeds, and Arum decides to take pity.

"Hm. Yes, well. I suppose that there is no reason to give them excuse to blame the messenger. Wait a moment, then. Keep, parchment and ink, if you would."

The Keep does as asked, and the faun's eyes flick to the vines that appear from apparent nowhere to hand him his tools. The monster's body is prey-still, leaving aside the trembling.

Arum writes out his letter rather quickly. He has been thinking this through for long enough that he does not need more than a single draft. He rolls the parchment and slides it back into the case he had pulled the Senate's own letter from, and then he holds it out.

"Perhaps," Arum says, his voice low, "you should endeavor to leave the room before they read that particular note, hm?"

After a long moment faun lifts his hands, nods, and gingerly tucks the letter back into his satchel.

~

Once he is safely back within his Keep, Arum laughs until tears prick at the corners of his eyes, laughs until his ribs hurt, and it doesn't even matter how the Senate responds. Arum cannot find the place within himself to care. He will find a way to survive, to thrive, regardless of whatever those miserable fools decide to do about him.

Arum laughs, the last lingering ghosts of his injuries twinging at him, and he feels foolish, and wild, and free.

~

The hut sits just as they left it.

The windows are dark, the herb garden has grown a little scruffy around the edges, the flowers across the trellises drift slightly in the wind, and Rilla squeezes her arms around Damien before she swings down from the saddle. She lifts Arum's plant from the saddlebag as Damien dismounts as well, and he gives her a soft, tired smile before he leads his horse off towards her tiny one-horse stable by the edge of the trees.

There's a small, childish, illogical part of Rilla that expects Arum to be there when she creaks open the door. It's stupid, obviously, which is why she doesn't let herself feel disappointed when she finds the hut exactly as empty as it should be. She sets the plant aside first, dumps the rest of her bags in a corner, and goes to light the hearth.

When Damien finishes settling his horse and comes inside with the rest of their bags, Rilla has nearly finished moving the pile of notes in the corner of the kitchen to a new spot on one of her bookshelves, and she grins a little manically at him as he sets his bags down.

"I think I've got a pot big enough to replant this thing. Help me bring it inside?"

He smiles, and they're both exhausted but this is too important to wait. For both of them.

She scoops up some turned earth from the garden to mix with the wrapped soil around the roots of Arum's plant (no more than half again, she remembers, and she's very very careful about that particular measurement), and she and Damien maneuver a large, oval shaped pot into the space Rilla has cleared, at the corner of her kitchen and out of sight of the windows.

It looks so strange and incongruous there, purple and green and wild, and the scent of fresh earth mingles with the reassuring scent of the flames in the hearth, another unfamiliar addition. Damien rests a hand on Rilla's arm, his other hand pressing over his heart, and when he sighs Rilla feels her heart stumble as well.

"Well," she says quietly. "He said it would bloom quickly, but obviously it's not going to bloom right now." She lifts a hand, gripping Damien's hand and squeezing. "C'mon. Not gonna waste time watching for the pot to boil. Let's unpack, and put something together for dinner, yeah?"

Damien squeezes her hand in return, gives the plant one last lingering look, and then turns away to help her put their home to rights again.

~

Arum feels the Keep buzz through with excitement, hears it pull the portal open at his back, and he barely manages to set his tools down rather than simply dropping them to clatter on his workbench before he spins to see-

"-miss him," Amaryllis says softly, and through the portal Arum sees her sat at their table in the warmth of the kitchen, sees Damien beside her, sees their foreheads ducked close together, Damien's arm wrapped around her shoulder, Amaryllis' hands cupping his face, their eyes gently closed. "Just- it's so quiet and-"

"I know," Damien says, and Arum's heart feels as if it fluoresces within his chest at the poet's voice, finally- finally. "I miss him as well. But- patience, love. Surely, surely we can be patient." Damien nudges their foreheads together, smiling wryly, and the arm around Amaryllis' shoulders tightens as the doctor sighs. "We will see him again. We will."

"Sooner than you think, perhaps," Arum manages, mildly smug that his voice only shakes a little, and the humans both gasp, whipping their faces towards him, all shock and wonder and- delight. His throat goes tight, then, but he still manages to speak. Barely. "Amaryllis," he murmurs, too much feeling in his voice. "Honeysuckle."

They spring to their feet, and Arum cannot help himself. He rushes forward as well.

They collide just in the threshold of the portal, Amaryllis' barreling into his chest and knocking the air from his lungs, Damien's arms flinging around him with a joyous laugh, and-

And perhaps it does not matter, that Arum feels tears at the corners of their eyes. Not if the humans' eyes are bright with tears as well.

"You," Amaryllis growls, her arms tight and fierce around him, and then she leans back enough to swipe a hand over her eyes and scowl before she starts poking at him. "Don't think you can waltz in all dramatic and get around me checking in on you- have you been applying-"

"Every single salve you left me with, like clockwork. Following the doctor's orders to the letter," Arum says, his voice an indulgent purr as Amaryllis' hands skate over his midsection, as she presses a palm over the scar on his back, examining him with critical, warm attention. He would attempt to hold up some degree of indignation about this, if he were not so undeniably, breathlessly happy to hear her complaints again at last. "As if I could possibly ignore you, as if I could not feel the threat of your ire from miles and miles distant-"

Damien breathes something like a sob, his forehead pressed to Arum's shoulder, and Arum make a small, sympathetic noise, curling two arms around him and holding him tighter.

"Oh, little songbird-"

"Missed- missed even your arguments, my lily, I-"

"I missed you as well," Arum admits in a hiss, nuzzling into Damien's hair. "Missed you both, so much more than I knew I could."

The Keep sings behind him, a melody of teasing exasperation and fondness and delight, and Amaryllis leans back to grin, lifting a hand to touch the curling vines of the portal.

"Keep," she says, and she sounds so equally fond that Arum cannot help the little stab of adoration. "So, has he been taking care of himself, then?"

The Keep warbles, affirming and warm, and Amaryllis turns her skeptical, playful gaze back towards Arum, her smile tilting in such a way that he thinks that perhaps she is content with his Keep's answer.

"So that's what the plant does, then? It lets you make a portal- nevermind the distance, weeks and weeks of travel away?"

"That is not it's function, precisely," Arum says. "It has no function, it is simply… a piece of life, from my swamp. If I merely wished to grant myself a doorway to you- the plant itself… it was not necessary. The soil would have sufficed, in truth, for a short time at least, but-"

"But?" Amaryllis asks, looking up at him with more joy on her face than Arum knows what to do with.

"But this seemed… better. More… decisive. A scattering of dirt may be swept aside. I care far more for the both of you than such a simple gesture. This-"

The plant in the wide oval pot by Amaryllis' fireplace is vibrant, glossy, a stab of floral familiarity, shocking and incongruous in this place that Arum grew to know so well.

"You shared your home with me," he says, slow and certain. "It seemed only fitting to give you a piece of mine." He inhales, and he smiles as he continues. "Its roots are taking hold here now, just as mine have, alongside your own."

Damien makes another choking noise, and then his arms tighten around Arum even further, and he presses his lips to Arum's neck. "Let us grow together," he breathes against Arum's scales in a shaking voice, and Arum knows that cadence in his voice, knows the ringing of a poem in Damien's voice. "Twined roots, fruits shared- bite by bite." Damien smiles, lifts his head, cups Arum's cheek in a hand as he continues, his voice so warm and musical that Arum can hardly focus on anything besides. "We tend to that which heals us," he murmurs, "each vine another trellis, braiding lines, lifting- towards the light-"

Arum is too stunned by the words, hit too closely by them, and Amaryllis recovers more quickly, reaching up to brush the tears away from Damien's cheeks, pressing a kiss there as if to replace them.

"I think that's my favorite of the new ones," she whispers. "Thank you."

"Honeysuckle," Arum manages, after another moment, and then he leans down to echo Amaryllis' kiss on the poet's other cheek. "How you craft such beauty… it is quite beyond me."

"With such inspiration before me," Damien says in a quavering voice, "the words practically weave themselves."

"Will that stay?" Amaryllis asks suddenly, gesturing towards the portal.

"I could dismiss it, summon it back when it is needed," he says.

"Cool," she says, and Arum barks a shocked laugh as she tugs at his hands, pulling himself and Damien back towards the table, maneuvering them to sit and folding herself against his side with a hand on his chest, her fingers tapping in a rhythm that it takes him a few moments to realize-

She's tapping along to the beat of his heart. Her fingers drum a little faster, after that.

Arum swallows roughly, and then he nudges the Keep with his mind, and as it closes the portal, leaving the little plant behind in the corner (she placed it precisely where he suggested- he will need to prod her later, discover where she fit that ream of notes and theories instead), Arum is grateful to still feel just the barest hint of the Keep's presence at the edges of his mind. The magic will settle here, yes, just as he did. If they want it to.

He exhales slowly, holding the both of them in silence for a long moment.

"I…" he murmurs eventually, uncertain. "I admit that I… worried, after you left, that perhaps this would be… a step too far. Too presumptuous, to grant myself a door directly into your home, but-"

"No-" Amaryllis shakes her head, lifting away enough to meet his eye. "Arum this is incredible- can you just summon a portal anywhere?"

"Not anywhere," he corrects, mild. "Only within the Swamp of Titan's Blooms. Which…"

Amaryllis looks to the plant, more vivid purple now than it was when he gave it to her.

"You… you literally gave us a piece of… you literally gave us a bloom from your swamp."

"Oh Arum," Damien keens, pressing another kiss to his throat. "Oh-"

"I… yes. It seemed the only thing to do," he says, ducking his head, flustered with his frill fluttering. "I… I knew…" he stops, furrows his brow, tries again. "The Keep is my home, my family. And I… I know, now, that I… I've grown to think of this place… I want this place to be my home as well. I want to be close by your sides. I want- you. I want to be a part of your lives."

"Good," Amaryllis says, but even in her nonchalance her voice is- trembling. Her hand presses hard over his heart, and the she presses her mouth to his in a lingering kiss. "Saints- Arum, we want you too."

"Want you always," Damien adds, tearful. "Oh, to be a home for you- to tend our garden together- oh Arum, oh lily we will hold you if you want us- we will keep you safe, warm-"

Damien interrupts himself, clearly shocking himself with a yawn, and Arum and Amaryllis both laugh at the look of mortification on his face.

"You are…" Arum presses his snout against Damien's temple when he can't find the words to voice what, precisely, Damien is. "Ridiculous," he settles on. "And clearly exhausted. The plant bloomed much more quickly than I was expecting, I think," he mutters, glaring in its direction without any heat. "I can still smell the road on the both of you. Have you gotten any rest whatsoever since you've been home?"

Amaryllis rolls her eyes while Damien purses his lips in obvious guilt, and Arum stifles another laugh.

"Well. It seems it is my turn to act responsibly for once. To bed with you. You certainly won't be rid of me so easily that you shall miss out on a single sleepless night of my presence. To bed," he repeats, "and I shall find mine as well."

Damien blinks, surprised again, and he and Amaryllis meet each other's eyes for a moment, something passing between them.

"What?" Arum grumbles. "What is it? I do not intend to let you wear yourselves out further for my sake. Certainly you would not allow the opposite, were the tables turned."

"You- you want to sleep in the exam room again?" Amaryllis asks, her tone careful, and Arum-

Arum did not realize that there was another option open to him. Would she like for him to- return to the Keep?

He presses his expression flat, unbothered, and then he says, "Where… else?"

Damien and Amaryllis lock eyes again, and this time he can read a note of fondness before Amaryllis turns her attention back to him.

"Well…" Amaryillis trails off. "If you want to sleep in there, you can. I haven't touched it since we got home, so it's still set up the same as when you left it, but-"

"But?"

Amaryllis ducks her head, then looks up at him through the fall of her hair, her smile soft and easy. "You… aren't my patient, Arum," she says, and he blinks. "Not anymore. If you want that to still be your bed here- I understand. You spent ages there, I get it if that's where you're comfortable. But… we love you. We love you, and there's room in our bed for you, too. If you want it."

"If…" Arum trails off, his mind still catching on the belated realization that he- he may exist here, uninjured. A guest, not a patient, as he once imagined. "You… want me to…"

"We love you, Arum," Damien repeats, his tone unspeakably tender. "We want you. Every inch, every moment we may share is a treasure, a gift."

"Did it bother you to have us share your bed?" Amaryllis asks, and Arum wrinkles his snout.

"Ridiculous-"

"Exactly. So…" she bites her lip, and then she leans up, and kisses Arum on the cheek, her lips soft and warm against his scales. "Come to bed with us?"

That feeling again, as if his heart is glowing and warm, as if the light should be pouring out in shafts between his ribs. He presses his mouth against her own, an invitation, a request, and when she hums another kiss against his scales the light within him pulses hot.

"Please," he whispers, and with these two creatures in his arms, with the Keep a gentle presence at the edge of his mind, Arum knows that this is where he belongs.

The monster is barely conscious before he starts trying to pull the both of them closer.

Rilla can hardly blame him. If she wasn't worried about waking him too early, she would have tugged him into her arms ages ago. He's too tired to do much more than give a mumbled breath, though, his greedy limbs stretching out to tug weakly at Rilla and Damien's sides. Damien hums himself awake at Arum's touch, and he smiles so, so wide before his eyes blink muzzily open, and then he looks down at the monster in his arms, and then up at Rilla with a watery smile. She grins right back, and then she obliges Arum's sleep-slack, greedy hands, and she folds herself against his chest, angling her chin up so she can press a kiss to his neck, and Damien embraces him from the other side, strong arms looped around Arum's chest, fingers tracing the ridges of his scales.

Arum murmurs something incomprehensible through his teeth, his eyelids fluttering, and as Rilla kisses him again he hisses a contented sigh, his violet eyes slitting open to meet her gaze in the gentle light of morning.

Rilla is so shockingly in love that her heartbeat stumbles, and Arum and Damien are safe within her arms.

(He’s so pleased, radiating such obvious contentment, and he is so entirely stunned to wake with them holding him. His cheek rests on her hand and he presses his face into it as he rouses, his scales already warm from their radiant heat and his breathing going sharper through his smile, and she feels a fierce sort of satisfaction at that, at the idea of soothing him awake like this again, and again, and again)

He growls lightly, nipping at her fingers and tugging the both of them closer against his chest, rumbling with a deep, inhuman purr.

She almost can't believe there was a time when she thought of him only as a monster.

In their arms, in their bed, in their home. He is their monster. Safe, and healed, and loved.

~

End notes: Thank you. I love you. Thank you. For further feelings, my playlist for this fic lives here.

also? this note has been sitting at the end of this document since it was only three lines of goofy plot ideas.

[……… profit????]

[kritomiesterbanta]

Cruel Summer [Part 5]

ABOUT: Y/N is not happy about her boyfriend Shawn having to fake date Camila, nor is he happy about Y/N’s blossoming friendship with Connor

WORD COUNT: 4,271

NOTES: Thank you for the continued out pour of love and support for my Cruel Summer series! I love this story, so I’m glad you are all loving it too! I’m definitely interested in hearing whether you are team Shawn or Team Connor, especially after reading this part! Let me know!

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 6

You loved Shawn, you truly did, which is why you were trying so damn hard to separate what was going on, with how you felt about him. The thing was, this whole watching him “date” someone else was killing you on the inside. Part of you had to wonder if maybe even coming out here on tour to begin with had been a bad idea. As hard as it had been to be apart, and to mostly communicate through texts, phone calls, and facetime, at least you wouldn’t have had a front row seat to his arms being wrapped around another girl. 

You had done your best to be supportive, and not say anything, but your heart had been broken the morning that Shawn had approached you to let you know that they needed to step things up with Camila. You knew this wasn’t going to be a conversation that you liked, especially since you could see in his own eyes that he was hurting and dreading this, but to make things look more real and believable he was going to have to kiss Camila.

 They had kissed a little bit during the filming of Senorita, but for some reason this just seemed different. He had tried to reassure you that it was just acting, and that he didn’t want to be doing it, but for the sake of all the work that they had put into this, they needed to keep it up, and of course, step it up as well. You wanted to believe that what he was saying was true, that it was different, but it certainly didn’t seem like it.

In Senorita they were playing characters. While maybe they were still to some extent playing characters now, and heightened versions of themselves, they were ultimately still being Shawn and Camila, and it hurt that your Shawn, that your boyfriend, was going to be kissing another woman.

 Then again, what could you really do? You were a nobody. You didn’t get to dictate any of this, especially since you already felt like Shawn didn’t get much of a say himself. When he told you that this wasn’t something he wanted to do, you believed him. You could see it in his face, especially when it was just the two of you alone in a room.

It had even gotten to the point that it wasn’t even something you wanted to discuss with him at all. Each night when it was just the two of you alone in your room you could see the weight of what was going on was killing him. He was stressed, he was exhausted, and you could see the guilt in his eyes when he looked at you. He knew that he was hurting you, and you knew that was killing him, and therefore you had stopped letting him in. You didn’t want to add to the stress of everything going on.

You coming to join the tour for the summer was supposed to be something fun, and something calming for Shawn, you weren’t here to cause waves or make things more difficult. Instead, you did your best to be the kind of distraction he needed, not the girl that complained about how damn hard it was to watch him with Camila, talk about Camila in interviews or the Q&A’s, or bring up just how hurt and heartbroken you were on the inside.

You knew that you were slowly breaking down, and that you couldn’t keep going on like this, but you were hopeful that somehow, or someway this would get easier. It was only supposed to be a summer fling. You could get through this, you had to. 

You knew that Shawn was growing more and more frustrated with your own relationship and friendship with Connor, but it wasn’t something that you could give up. He honestly was the only one keeping you sane, especially since he did provide as the perfect distraction, and when everything got to be a little too much he was the first one to grab your hand and pull you off so the two of you could go on your own adventure. 

The two of you didn’t even need to be doing anything crazy or all that significant for you to enjoy your time together. Actually, the times where you and Connor just went around taking pictures and videos, or even just sat in his hotel room while you watched him edit were more than enough for you. As long as you didn’t have to watch your boyfriend put his hands all over another woman you were happy, and Connor seemed more than happy to be that distraction.

At first you had felt rather guilty about always pulling him away from everything, but after assuring you that this too was what he’d rather be doing, you had stopped asking if it was okay, or trying to assure him that you’d be okay if you stayed around and watched the “show” that Shawn and Camila were putting on. Plus, he had long since learned to see past your bullshit answers when you tried to play it tough or cool. He knew you weren’t happy or okay, and he didn’t like you having to force yourself through it.

As much as you hated it, Shawn did make his occasional comment about it, especially after each time you put up a new selfie of you and Connor on your Instagram. It really had just become a running joke between the two of you, since he constantly teased you about your love of selfies, and you teased him about his ridiculous hatred for them. Plus, you didn’t see anything wrong with it. There were plenty of pictures out there with Shawn with Camila, so why couldn’t you have pictures of you and Conner? 

That had been the original story after all. You were on tour to spend time with your friend Connor. You were only selling that storyline even further, and even more than that, Connor was your friend now. Actually, given how close the two of you had gotten the past few weeks you would argue that he was becoming one of your closest friends. The two of you just got each other, and while that maybe bugged your boyfriend, it was something that you needed, and therefore something that Shawn needed to deal with.

 As much as you wished that Shawn could be your refuge when things got tough, that just wasn’t the case. You didn’t want to add any more stress to his pile, and it did just seem to make more sense to go to Connor when you had to vent or complain. In some ways, you felt like Connor just happened to get it more than Shawn did anyway. You of course didn’t want to complain about Shawn as a boyfriend, since when it was just the two of you, he was the best, but he could get understandably defensive when he felt attacked over the situation.

You knew that he was just about as ready for this Camila stuff to be over as you were, and since it wasn’t like he was trying to hurt you on purpose you didn’t like looking at him in a negative light. Honestly, if none of this Camila stuff had happened you would argue that he had been one of the best boyfriends you had ever had, but these days it was hard to see all of that.

With Shawn’s birthday nearing you had been so excited about the idea of being able to celebrate together, and before all of this had happened, it had been the day you were looking forward to the most. Twenty-one was a pretty monumental birthday after all, and instead of being some star studded party, it was mostly going to be his best and closest friends that were invited.

However, the closer it got, and as more details of the big day, and the big party were being revealed you soon came to the realization that you weren’t going to be able to play the big part in the day that you had originally wanted and hoped for. Shawn had assured you that he wanted you close by all night, but you couldn’t hold hands or act like a couple. There were going to be cameras there after all, and if anything got leaked it would ruin everything that he, Camila, and their teams had worked towards. 

While everyone on tour knew the truth about you and Shawn, most of the party goers wouldn’t know that, and it wasn’t safe to let your relationship be seen or discovered. There were already a lot of people out there that weren’t buying his and Camila’s relationship, and while selfishly that made you sort of happy, you also knew that it was in his best interest for it not to be found out what was actually happening and going on.

Like usual, you reminded yourself that you would have Connor there, and that at least made it so you weren’t completely dreading the party. This was Shawn’s big day after all, and being the good girlfriend that you were, you did want to make this as easy and drama free as possible. The day wasn’t about you, even if as his girlfriend you did feel like you should have been given a bit more consideration in all of this, but what really could you say? If it was up to Shawn you imagined he saw this day going a little differently as well, so at least there was that.

When the big day had finally arrived, you did your best to make it special for just the two of you. You were the first one to see him in the morning, which meant you were the first one that was going to be able to wish him happy birthday. That was precisely why you had woken up early, and thanks to a little arranging, and the help of a few others, you had his favorite breakfast delivered to the room, along with a cupcake that you were able to light up with the one candle that sat in the middle of it.

��Happy Birthday to you,” you softly sang, after having lit the candle and made your way over to his side of the bed where he was currently laying shirtless, in nothing more than his boxer briefs, stomach down. “Happy Birthday dear Shawn,” you continued as he turned to look at you with a boyish grin and sleepy eyes as you finished up singing. “Make a wish babe,” you directed as he quickly blew it out before finally pushing himself up and moving into a seated position with his legs off the bed.

“Thanks babygirl. You are amazing, and I’m so lucky to have you,” he smiled as he pulled you closer so he could rest his hands on your hips.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around, but I’ll take it,” you playfully declare before leaning down to press your lips to his.

The two of you had definitely taken advantage of the alone time together, and had actually spent the majority of the day and early afternoon together in his room, but unfortunately that hadn’t been able to last. His family had flown in to spend the big day with him, and with lunch having been planned he had needed to say goodbye and leave.

While you had met his family, and gotten along great with all of them, there were likely pictures going to be taken, and it wouldn’t make sense for a random girl that was friends with Connor, and not his actual girlfriend to be at lunch with them. If a girl was going to go, it would have been Camila, but Shawn had thankfully requested for that not to happen.

In the end, you had found a way to keep yourself busy with a little shopping as you picked out the perfect little red dress to wear tonight, gotten a manicure and pedicure, and had even arranged to have your hair and make-up done by a professional. Even if you weren’t going to be the one totally at Shawn’s side tonight, you wanted to look good for him.

While you had unfortunately hoped to ride to his party with him tonight, that hadn’t happened. Shawn was to walk in after most of the guests were to arrive, and much to your chagrin, he was going to walk in with Camila, and his family. 

You couldn’t lie. That sucked, and it hurt, but like usual you had Connor by your side to make it feel alright, or at least as good as you could possibly feel about any of this. In the end, you didn’t want to make his big day about you, so despite how shitty you felt, you slapped a fake smile on your face, even if Connor could easily see right past it. Actually, you found yourself deeply hoping that Shawn could as well, but you knew it was a selfish thought.

After walking in you and Connor made your rounds, talked to a few people, and had gotten a glass of champagne to celebrate Shawn’s imminent arrival. Once it was announced that he was coming in soon, you made sure that you and Connor were right near the front.

 As Shawn made his grand entrance you, like everyone else began to shout at the top of your lungs, and you couldn’t help the butterflies as his eyes immediately found yours. Maybe you didn’t get to walk in by his side, but he was doing his best to show that you weren’t forgotten. It also helped that he was clearly taking in you, your dress, and little makeover, and he was obviously impressed. You had seen that look in his eyes before, and you could tell it was taking everything in his power to not walk over there and kiss you in front of everybody. 

So maybe it hadn’t been your favorite to see his hand in Camila’s, but it was you he had looked at like that, and not her, and that was what was getting you through. You watched as he made his rounds a bit, hugging quite a few people and thanking them for coming, before he finally made his way over to you. 

“Hey,” he smiled, his eyes once again taking you in, while also trying not to give too much away about how he truly felt about you, especially since tonight, to all these people Camila was Shawn’s girlfriend. Not you. 

“Hey,” you shyly smiled back, loving the way his eyes had just looked over you all over again.

“You look so beautiful babygirl,” he whispered into your ear as he had moved in to give you a hug. “I’m pretty sure you are the birthday present I’m most looking forward to unwrap,” he softly joked before slowly pulling away, his touch lingering for as long as he could possibly make it.

“Oh my God Shawn, have you already been drinking?” you tease as he innocently shrugs his shoulders, making you giggle. 

“Come on, it’s my twenty first, I may have had a drink or two on the way over,” he admits as you let out another soft giggle and a shake of the head.

“Well you deserve it. I hope you are having a good birthday so far,” you admit, even if your heart sort of hurts that this is going to have to be your only interaction for awhile. You would give anything to spend the entire night by his side, and holding his hands as he goes around and talks to everyone and introduces you to his old friends, but you get why that can’t be.

“It’s been good.. But I wish it could be a little different,” he admits back, almost as if you two are sharing a very similar thought. 

“Well we will hang out later tonight, right?” you try offer in an effort to see that signature Shawn smile that you love so much, and one he deserves to be wearing on his birthday.

“Of course, Like I said, I still need to unwrap my present,” he teases as he sends what is likely an inappropriate wink in your direction, but neither of you seem to care as you share in this moment and laugh together. 

“I need to go and talk to some people and say hi, but you’ll be close by right?” he asks, a familiar look of concern and pleading showing up on his face. 

“Of course,” you smile in assurance as you reach out and give his hand a small squeeze before he unfortunately has to pull away, looking back at you, giving you one last smile before heading into the crowd.

As much as you loved your interaction with Shawn just then, an emptiness and sadness begin to consume you, but luckily before you can let yourself dwell on it, Connor is at your side.

“What do you say we take a shot?” he asks, and while you aren’t much of a drinker, you are pretty sure you are going to need to something in order to get through this night. Plus, with it being Shawn’s twenty-first you know he plans on drinking quite a bit, so why not join in?

That isn’t the only shot you take that night, nor is it the only drink you consume other than the tiny bit of champagne you had to mark his arrival. You definitely have a buzz going on, and maybe a little more, but it feels good. Even more, it feels good not to be dwelling on the fact that your boyfriend is off socializing without you, with Camila by his side, likely portraying the role of the doting girlfriend that should be you.

 Actually though, you are having plenty of fun where you are at with Connor as the two of you make your presence known on the dance floor. You would never claim to be a professional, or to even know what you are doing, but you also feel like you have rhythm and do alright, unlike Connor. In fact, his moves crack you up, which only makes this even more fun. 

Being you, you have also already pulled out your phone to take the selfie that Connor so loudly proclaims he hates, but you know he secretly loves. Plus, he always looks amazing in them. While he may normally prefer to be the one behind the camera, you think that is just a travesty. His face was made to be in front of the camera. 

You know you promised Shawn to be close by, and while you really had tried to make that happen, it had not only gotten a bit boring to be the weird girl secretly lurking in the back, it had gotten to feel kind of weird. So instead, you had chosen to take advantage of the fact that you were at your boyfriend’s huge birthday bash, even if it was Connor by your side instead. 

When it was time for the cake to be presented everyone did their best to gather in close as a loud round of happy birthday was sung. You did your best to get in as close as you could with Connor by your side, but given how many people had come tonight to celebrate the birthday boy you definitely weren’t as close as you would have hoped. The one thing that had made you at least feel somewhat better about this moment was that he had searched you out in the crowd and sent a little wink, but soon his attention was directed elsewhere.

You couldn’t blame him. He was the man of the hour after all, but that didn’t stop the sting of not being the one by his side from consuming you. It certainly wasn’t helping that you were also a tad bit tipsy, and Camila was right there where you should have been. After the candles had been blown out and a silly drunken speech had been given by your incredibly cute and adorable boyfriend your mood suddenly switched as Camila went in to give Shawn a big birthday kiss as the crowd cheered.

You however, were not cheering, and you certainly weren’t happy. In fact, that seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back as you pushed your way out of the small crowd. Despite the fact that you were already outside in the New York air, you couldn’t help but feel like you couldn’t breathe and like you needed more of it.

Out of nowhere Connor reached for your hand, and thankfully led you away, and down a small alley where it looked like the two of you could have some much needed privacy. You of course wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but there likely was much more involved in all of this as hot tears began to fall down your cheeks.

“Come here,” he softly directed you as he pulled you into his arms as you buried your head in his chest, as one of his hands rested on the back of your head, as the tears continued to fall. You weren’t sure how long the two of you had stood like that, but finally you felt strong enough to pull back to look at him.

“I’m sorry I..” you began as you did your best to wipe at your eyes, before he quickly shook his head.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I get it. This is hard Y/N,” he assures you, as he affectionately moves in to wipe a tear off your cheek. 

“It is, and you would think I’d be used to it by now,” you sighed, hating that this was still something you couldn’t seem to get over.

“And you shouldn’t have to. You shouldn’t even have to be dealing with this in the first place. It’s fucked up. You are one of the most amazing women I have ever met, and I don’t get why Shawn is doing this,” he cursed, actually surprising you by how passionate he is about all of this.

“Well, I mean, he doesn’t really have a choice,” you try to offer in defense of Shawn.

“Of course he has a choice. He could have said no, but he didn’t, and he’s still letting this shit show carry on despite how obvious it is that it’s hurting you. It’s bullshit,” he further ranted, his words actually sinking in as you first wonder how much of a choice Shawn does have, and even more, you wonder how obvious it really is what all of this is doing to you. Is everyone else feeling the same way about all of this?

You hate the idea of looking weak or pathetic, and you don’t like the idea of everyone knowing that this isn’t easy on you. Okay, so maybe it isn’t something that should be easy, but you did want to be there and you did want to be supportive.

“I get it Y/N, you’re trying to be a good girlfriend for him,” he further offers, feeling somewhat annoyed that this isn’t the first time today that your thoughts seem to be totally transparent. “But he doesn’t fucking deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you,” he loudly declares as his hands from around you drop as he throws them passionately up into the air in frustration. 

“Connor,” you begin, but honestly, what are you supposed to say to that, especially after having had him witness your first real break down since coming out here. 

“I mean it, you are amazing, and you don’t deserve this,” he keeps going, obviously sensing that you aren’t sure what to say. “You deserve a boyfriend that chooses you. That chooses you over some music sales, and makes you feel like you are always his number one priority. If you were my girlfriend Y/N, I would never do that to you,” he confidently declares as he moves to cut off the distance between the two of you  once more as he places a soft hand on the side of your neck as his thumb softly brushes up against the skin of your cheek. “I would make sure to show you each and every day that you are my only priority, and that nothing is more important than you.”

“Connor..” you softly trail as your eyes move up to meet his, feeling completely conflicted in this moment. Those words, they mean the world to you, and for the first time since Shawn has said something about Connor having feelings for you, you realize that maybe he was right all along, and you aren’t sure what to think about that.

On one hand, you know he is right. Shawn isn’t treating you like his number one priority, but you love him despite all of that, and despite what he can offer you at the moment. On the other hand, not only is Connor saying all the right words, you are starting to wonder if maybe somewhere along the line you had fallen for him too. It’s all so confusing, but before you even have time to think about what you want, you are soon interrupted.

“What the fuck Connor? Get away from my girlfriend,” Shawn loudly shouts, as you quickly jump away from Connor and his touch as your eyes quickly move between the two men, neither looking even remotely happy with the other. In fact, you can see fire and anger there, and know, this in no way is going to end well.

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