#I’m just.. oh man. well. probably as uncomfortable as I should have been to begin with?
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Just lost my job.. so I wanna try to get back into drawing.
However I’m.. not exactly comfortable picking up where I left off? I’ve changed a bit, mentally, and like. My interests aren’t very different, but…. I don’t think I can stomach making the same content I did before. I don’t know that I want it to attached to whatever I do going forward, either. I want to get more into OCs and stuff, if possible.
That said.. I know some of y’all really wanted that old art back. So I’m weighing my options…
I’ve considered making some kind of archive, but idk how to.. twitter frustrates me and feels far too public, given the subject-matter 😔 I may use it going forward but it doesn’t feel like the right place for my old works
I may just re-start with a new username and let this one lie...?
#idk.. what do you think?#i don’t even know really how anyone feels about the kinda shit I was making#i ONLY see the purity culture type shit these days and i feel.. idk#kinda lost..#I’m not gonna be doing RPF anymore.. just to be clear#***PROBABLY#I must admit i dont trust myself with any promises these days..#I’m just.. oh man. well. probably as uncomfortable as I should have been to begin with?#i might just go back to being silent idk#sorry y’all idk what I’m doing..#i miss y’all a lot.. sorry I vanished 😔💚#also like.. tired bc I’m trying to think of ways to make money to survive rn and#one of my thoughts has been to put my old art together and offer a purchasable download or something#idk if anyone would want that??#at a reasonable price of course.. ik we’re all going thru it rn#hhhgn gosh okay im leaving now but inbox is open if anyone has thoughts..
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | . . . | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18
Eddie frowns. “Do you know why you were brought back?”
Steve shrugs. “Kinda. I know we knew what we were doing, when we were, but best I can figure, coming back in time messed with our memories and made them really hazy for a bit. It’s clearing up now, and I’m remembering more. Basically El found a way to send us back to make this all right from the beginning.”
Eddie nods, then seemingly changes the subject. “So Robin said you know? About her?”
Steve’s brows furrow in thought, then smooth out. “Oh! Yeah. She did.”
Eddie nods. “She knows, but… do you?”
“About?”
Eddie fidgets. “Me.”
Steve takes a second. “I didn’t know for sure, but I had an idea.”
Eddie nods. “So, you and I weren’t ever… we…”
“No,” Steve murmurs, then shrugs. “Maybe, if we had more time. And I know this probably sounds really weird to you, considering we officially met, like, two days ago, but…” Steve shrugs. “I can… I can lay off. If you want. If it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Honestly? I don’t think I’m going to process any of this until tomorrow at the earliest.”
Steve chuckles. “Fair enough. Just… let me know, yeah?”
Eddie nods, and with that they fall silent for a little while longer.
Eddie’s the one to break the silence. “The tape you gave me. Have you listened to it?”
Steve smiles. “Once or twice. I didn’t get to hear you play, but Dustin told me it was the most metal concert ever.”
Eddie chuckles. “Are you hoping for a do-over this time? Hoping to hear me play?”
“And if I was?”
Eddie sobers. “Then I guess I’ll just have to play it for you.”
Steve smiles. “I’d like that.”
They fall silent for a little bit longer until Steve sighs. “I feel like I owe you an apology. You didn’t ask for any of this. For my feelings or to be dragged into this or-”
“Hey,” Eddie says, stopping him in his tracks with a soft hand to his arm. “I asked a question. I wanted honesty, and I got it. Admittedly I got a little more than that, what with fuckin’ Mordor,” he gestures around, and Steve chuckles. “But you gave me honesty. That’s it. You didn’t push me to accept it or reciprocate anything. You didn’t even push me for a reaction. Did your answer surprise me?” He chuckles, shakes his head. “Man, I’m not convinced I’m not still dreaming. Maybe I fuckin’ drove the van into a pole on the way to school and now this is a very weird coma-dream and I’m in the hospital. I don’t fuckin’ know, man.”
Steve frowns. “Do people in comas dream?”
“I- what?” Eddie asks, then considers the question. “I- I don’t know. They do, right? They’re just asleep, I thought?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s not like you dream every night, right? Maybe comas are always on those nights. Or days. Or whatever.”
Eddie blinks at him, then slowly smiles. “Anyone ever tell you you’re weird as shit, man?”
Steve laughs. “Only all the time.”
His smile falls as he looks out at the landscape. “We should keep moving. We’ve been out in the open for a while.”
Eddie hums. “How far did the squirts say?”
Steve sighs. “They didn’t, just said to keep going this way until El tells us to turn.”
Suddenly, a shadow flits over his face. He freezes and looks up, then curses quietly and grabs for Eddie’s arm, stilling him.
“What the fuck is that?” Eddie hisses.
“Demobat.”
“Shit.” Eddie takes a shaky breath. “If i shoot it, will the gun scare off the others or bring them to investigate?”
Steve sets his jaw, mouth a thin line. “Only one way to find out.”
Eddie cocks the gun. “Shoot and run like hell?”
Steve nods, and Eddie smiles grimly before lining up the sights, taking a deep breath, and pulling the trigger.
The gun fires.
The bat falls to the ground.
Steve and Eddie run.
Eddie almost falls once, trying to run and carry the gun, and Steve grabs his hand, pulling him along, forgetting their hands are joined until the walkie crackles to life again and Mike’s voice comes through. “Turn left,” he says, and Eddie’s brow furrows.
“We’re getting farther from the lake.”
Steve relays the information, and they pause, catching their breath while they wait for a reply. “El says he’s not near the lake.”
Steve and Eddie look at each other, then shrug. “Alright,” Steve says. “How long?”
“She says you’ll know,” comes the cryptic answer.
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#stranger things#if I should stay#steve harrington#eddie munson#eventual steddie#slow burn#fix it fic#time travel#time travel fic#ngl i definitely forgot today was the day to post until like. just now#next up they find will!#…maybe#ngl i definitely forgot what I wrote#starambles
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The Proposal - Rebecca Welton x fem!reader (Part 2)
The Proposal Part 2 - Rebecca Welton x fem!reader
“Hi. I’m Mr. Gilberston. And you must be...” The man trailed off, looking down at the file in his hands. “Y/n and Rebecca. Oh what glorious times we live in, huh?” He tried to make small talk, sitting down at the desk in his office. The room was small. Tiny, compared to Rebecca’s office. The walls were blue and there were huge shelves with boxes and boxes of files.
“Yes yes, amazing times. And I can’t even begin to tell you how much we appreciate you seeing us on such short notice.” Rebecca started with a smile as the man sat down at his desk before skimming over the file in front of him.
“So… I have one question for you.” He stated, closing the file again. “Are the two of you committing fraud to avoid Ms. Welton having to sell AFC Richmond back to some Mr. Rupert Mannion?” You tried not to roll your eyes at the statement. Well, here you go.
“That is ridiculous.” You shook your head. “Where- where did you hear that?” Rebecca stuttered. “We had a phone tip this afternoon from a man named-” - “Bob Spaulding? I’m sorry. Bob is nothing but a disgruntled former employee. I do apologize. But we do know that you’re incredibly busy, so if you just give us our next step, we will be out of your hair and on our way.” Rebecca tries. She was nervous. More nervous than you expected her to be since this had been her idea.
“Ms. Welton, please.” The man offered her to take a seat in front of his desk, you immediately rushed to pull out the chair for her before taking a seat next to her.
“Let me explain to you the process that is about to unfold.” He started. “First step will be a scheduled interview. I’ll have each of you put in a room and ask every little question that a real couple would know about each other. Step two, I dig deeper. I’ll look at your phone records, talk to your neighbors etc. If your answers don’t match up at every point, you, Ms. Welton, will sell the club, indefinitely. And you, young woman will have committed a felony… punishable by a fine of a quarter million pounds and five years of prison… So, Y/n. You wanna talk to me?” That lecture hit, you were debating whether or not you should just stop pretending.
“The truth is...” You started and Rebecca turned to you, looking uneasy. “Becca and I are just two people who weren’t supposed to fall for each other. But we did. After telling her about her ex-husband’s more than frequent affairs with employees, and plotting a plan for a divorce that lead to having bottles of wine at my place, we just fell in love. Obviously, we couldn’t tell anyone at work because of my promotion coming up and it would be deeply inappropriate if I were promoted under her, while we were in a relationship.” You explained and Rebecca seemed to grow even more uncomfortable.
“So, do your parents know about that secret relationship of yours?” He asks.
“Well, I’m not on good terms with my parents, haven’t seen them in years. So no. No brothers or sisters. Yeah.” Rebecca answered for her part. “You?” Gilbertson asked. “We were planning on telling them this weekend.”Rebecca quickly intervened. “Granny’s 90th birthday and the whole family is coming together. We thought it would be a nice surprise.”
“And where is this surprise gonna happen?”
“At Y/n’s parents’ house.” - “Where is that located again?”
Deciding to jump in, seeing as the probability for Rebecca to know that was about zero, you replied instead. “Buniewice.” You replied easily. “Buniewice.” Rebecca repeated. “In Poland.” - “In Poland?” Rebecca tried to mask her surprise. Her reaction did not surprise you. You had been more than sure that she hadn’t gone over your application as she kept you around. If she did, she would have noticed your dual citizenship.
“You’re gonna go to Poland this weekend?” He asked, not really believing you. “Yes… Yeah, we’re going to Poland, that’s where… that’s where my little… that’s where my darling is from.” Rebecca stated, reaching a hand over to awkwardly pat your shoulder.
“Okay, fine. I see how this is gonna go. I will see you both at eleven o’clock. Monday morning sharp, for your scheduled interview and your answers better match up on every account.” And with that he left the office without another word. Rebecca immediately went to answer her phone ringing.
You and Rebecca left the office building the same way you entered, walking out of the big glass doors on the front of the building, Rebecca was still looking down at her phone. “Okay, so, what is going to happen is we will go all the way over there. We will pretend like we’re girlfriend and girlfriend, tell your parents we’re engaged. Uh, use the miles for the tickets. I guess I will pop up for you to fly first class. But make sure you use the miles.” Rebecca jumped from one topic to the next within seconds while multitasking with her phone still in her hand.
“Hey, why aren’t you taking notes…?” Rebecca asked once she had finally diverted her eyes from the screen of her phone. “I’m sorry, were you not in that room?” You asked her, stopping in your tracks and turning to face her. “What? What- oh, the thing you said about you being promoted? Genius! Genius. The guy completely fell for it.” Rebecca replied, storing her phone in her purse.
“I was serious.” You stated matter of factly. “I’m looking at five years in jail and a quarter million in pounds. That changes things.” - “Promote you? No, no way.” She shook her head. You had a hard time not being intimidated by her, but you did your best.
“Then I quit, and you’re screwed.” You replied easily. “Bye-bye, Rebecca. It has been a little slice of heaven.” You added, turning around and starting to walk away from her. At any other moment, you would have thought this would be a chance for you. The way it was in the books. Forced marriage but they end up falling for each other. But now you weren’t sure anymore. She didn’t even seem to care about you.
“Y/n, Y/n! Fine, fine.” You stopped. Well, that was not as hard as you thought it would be. “I’ll have you be in charge of our transfers. Fine.” You turned back around at her words. “If you do the Poland weekend and the interview, you’re gonna be in charge of transfers.” She gave in. “And not in two years, right way.” You spoke, leaving no room for arguing. “Fine.” She agreed, managing not to roll her eyes.
“And we’ll tell my family about our engagement when I want and how I want.” You added. “Now, ask me nicely to marry you.”
“What does that mean?” Rebecca asked you, looking at you confused. “You heard me. Ask me to marry you, Rebecca. I won’t need you on your knees but ask me nicely.”
“Will you marry me?” She asked, not even meeting your eyes. “No. Say it like you mean it.” You encouraged her. And then she locked eyes with you. Oh how you were a sucker for her eyes. The green was oh so captivating.
“Y/n?” She asked you, voice now a bit less annoyed. “Yes, Rebecca?” You replied. “Sweet, sweet Y/n?” - “I’m listening.”
“Would you please, cherries on top, marry me?” She asked you, sarcasm now very much present in her voice. “Hmm. I don’t really appreciate the sarcasm, but I’ll do it.” You agreed and she flashed you a small, grateful, smile. “See you at the airport tomorrow.” And with that, you left her standing alone.
And this interaction led you to where you were now. Sitting on the plane to Danzig. Little did Rebecca know that you would have to board another plane once you landed there.
“So, these are the questions that this guy will be asking us.” You spoke, only partially to yourself while Rebecca was flipping through a magazine. You sighed and looked out of the window. “Good news is I know everything about you, bad news is that you have four days to learn all this about me. So, you should… probably start studying.” You said and Rebecca took the list of questions out of your hands, starting to flip through them.
“What am I allergic to?” She asked you as if to test your knowledge. “Pine nuts.” You replied easily, not even having to think for a second. “And the full spectrum of human emotion.” You added under your breath. Still, she seemed to have caught your comment and let out a small chuckle. “Here’s a good one. Do I have any scars?” She challenges you again, quirking an eyebrow.
“You know all these answers to these questions about me?” Rebecca asked, not believing one word you were saying. “Scary isn’t it?” You asked her, still looking out of the window. “A bit.” She admitted.
“I’m pretty sure you have a tattoo. Not that anyone else would ever think you did.” You replied, remembering a call you had gotten not too long ago. “Oh, you’re sure?” She teased, a smirk on her face.
“I’m pretty sure. A month ago your dermatologist called and asked about a Q-switched laser. I did some research and found out you use these to remove tattoos. But you canceled your appointment which leads me to the conclusion that you do, in fact, have a tattoo. It’s nothing big. Probably something you got before you met Mr. Mannion seeing as you do not want to have it removed. Maybe something that reminds you of something.” You brainstormed and Rebecca had an amused smile gracing her lips as she listened to your theories. “It’s not on your feet or ankle. Arms are out too. Maybe on your back? Or maybe on your hip?” You continued but Rebecca intervened. “You know, it is very exciting for me to experience you like this.” She joked.
“Thank you.” You joked back. “You’re gonna have to tell me where it is though.” You added and Rebecca rolled her eyes, focusing back on the question catalogue. “No, I’m not.” She replied easily. “He’s gonna ask.” You kept going. “Nope, we’re done with that question.” Rebecca decided, continuing to flip through the catalogue. “On to another question. Lemme see, lemme see...” She trailed off and you diverted your attention back to the clouds surrounding the plane.
“Oh, here’s one. Whose place do we stay at, yours or mine?” Rebecca read out before answering the question herself. “That’s easy. Mine.” - “And why wouldn’t we stay at mine?” You asked.
“Uhm, because my place is bloody nice and I have the perfect views.” She easily answered. “And because you probably live at some tiny, little studio flat with stacks and stacks of Penguin Classics.” She added and you tried not to let your face fall into an inappropriate grimace.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seatbelts. We are beginning our descent into Danzig.” Came the muffled voice over the speakers. Rebecca’s face was already furrowing in confusion.
“Danzig? I thought we were going to Buniewice?” She asked, buckling her seatbelt. Her eyebrows were still furrowed in confusion as you raised your hand and gently pushed between them with your thumb, her face relaxing instantly. “We are.” You answered her question. “And how are we supposed to get there?”
Oh how you enjoyed the look on Rebecca’s face as you boarded a smaller plane. It was nothing compared to flying first class, you knew that, but it had been all you ever knew. While you were focused on the question catalogue for your interview, Rebecca just sat there, not voicing her discomfort, but putting up no effort to hide it on her face and body.
You felt uneasy as you landed. You hadn’t seen your family in a while. However the part you were concerned about the most was seeing your father again. He never seemed to be proud of anything you had accomplished. He voiced disapproval when you had decided to move to England about ten years ago. Ever since then the relationship between the two of you had been rather rocky.
#gxg#wlw#fem!reader#lesbian#rebecca welton#rebecca welton x reader#ted lasso#sapphic#hannah waddingham#the proposal#junikicker
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If you're still doing prompts for your guys...
How about used as bait? Make of that what you will! I would love to learn more about your OCs :D
-- @whumperofworlds
thank you very much for the prompt!!! i must say, i've never really written anything like this but omg. being used as bait/its a trap/kidnapping is truly an underrated trope, at least on this blog
i know i said i wouldn't write hurt/no comfort but HEAR ME OUT. this isnt no comfort. its SUSPENSE. i will most likely be writing a part 2 for this during the whumperless whump event so TRUST ME these boys will get comforted.
also bear with me, writing whumper stuff/situations like this isn't my strong suit and i feel like there are definitely plot holes at certain points.. (-。-;)
onto the fic!
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This was just Simon’s luck.
He really should be used to getting himself into these situations. This was the second time in only two months that he’d been harassed by Archie’s enemies.
They have just.. never taken it this far before. He’d never been kidnapped before.
Simon was starting to worry. From the way his arms were tied behind him, it was getting hard to take a full breath. He needed to force himself to calm down. Hyperventilating would only make things worse. He needed to analyze the situation at hand.
He was bound to a chair in the middle of a dusty, abandoned warehouse.
Well, at least, he thinks it’s a warehouse.
Truthfully, he’d been blindfolded and gagged since they shoved him into the back of the van and sped away from the city.
He only assumed it was a warehouse from the way the doors sounded as they were being opened and the echo of the chair being dragged toward him. Also, the air around him felt vacant and cold. It smelled of wet cement.
Also, there was the matter of his restraints. Sure, the rope around his wrists were itchy and his back was beginning to ache from the angle he was forced to sit at, but he silently chose to count his blessings.
His captors hadn’t hurt him, save for the initial bonk on the head to subdue him. No, he was relatively unscathed, which was.. odd.
Usually the lackeys tried to beat information about Archie out of him, to no avail of course. He found it strange that no one had come around to yell at him or intimidate him with half-empty threats. In fact, Simon was fairly sure he was completely alone in the building. He hadn’t heard the shuffling and breathing of bodies around him since they first tied him up. The whole situation was abnormal.
Still, he needed to focus on a way out, and therein lies the reason he was beginning to panic. When the guys first knocked him out, they took his phone, wallet, and every accessory he had on him, including the emergency signal bracelet he had to communicate with Archie.
Without it, Archie had no way of knowing where he was or that he was even in trouble. Considering the time of night, Archie would be on patrol. There was at least a chance that he’d get injured enough to pay a visit to Simon’s apartment, but even that could take hours.
Hours Simon wasn’t sure he had.
What game were these guys trying to play?
If they wanted information, they weren’t doing a very good job of getting it. If they wanted to kill him, they surely would have done so already. What was their goal?
Just when Simon was almost sure they had forgotten about him, the sound of a metal door scraping open reverberated throughout the building. He heard slow, deliberate footsteps make their way towards him, and then felt a calloused hand yank off his blindfold. He squinted.
The man bent at the waist to meet Simon’s gaze. “Rise and shine.”
His breath was uncomfortably warm, and if Simon could have told him to give him some personal space, he would have. Instead, he narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, someone doesn’t seem too happy,” The man sing-songed, harshly grabbing Simon by the chin and forcing his gaze up. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you. Not yet, at least.”
Simon swallowed convulsively against the gag.
“You’re probably wondering what we all plan on doing to you,” He said, motioning to the door off to the side of the building. Simon could only assume that that was where the rest of the men that kidnapped him were.
“Well, patience is a virtue, my friend. I promise that all will be answered. But until then, if you wish to see this through with your life, you’ll have to do a little something for me.” He explained, thumbing saliva away from where it was pooling down Simon’s chin.
He glared. We’ll see about that.
The man pulled out a camera.
“I have a guy on the inside, who will feed whatever I want directly into Vigil’s not-so-secret little broadcast channel. As soon as he knows his precious nurse is in trouble, he’ll come for you right away,” he chirped. “All I need from you is a video proving your wellbeing, just so the brat knows we haven’t killed you yet and knows to tread carefully. You’ll do that, won’t you?”
Simon blinked.
Did he really think he and his 4 other cronies would be able to handle a pissed-off Archie? Simon didn’t notice any of the tell-tale signs that they were hopped up on enhancers, so for all intents and purposes, it was just.. five regular humans against one livid superhuman.
Simon stifled a snort.
If a video was what the man wanted, a video was what he would get! He was practically giving Simon the keys to his freedom!
The man pointed his camera at Simon and grinned.
“All you have to say is that you’re uninjured, and that if he doesn’t come within one hour, that won’t remain the case. Nothing more, nothing less, got it?”
The man reached around Simon’s head and pulled off the gag, to which Simon gasped for air. He shot a glare at him, and saw the camera light flick on. He cleared his throat.
“Oh Vigil. Oh please come save me. I am uninjured and terrified and these men will hurt me if you are not here in one hour. Whatever will I do without my knight in shining armor,” He deadpanned, tone dripping in sarcasm. He hoped Archie would appreciate his joke.
The man scowled and replaced the gag, taking extra care to tie it even tighter, and disappeared into the side room. Simon was alone once again.
God, no one told him being kidnapped would be so boring.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. It could have been three minutes, it could have been thirty, but he felt a pang of relief when he heard a window breaking from outside.
Finally. Things could get moving.
He saw Archie’s blonde hair peeking over the sill of one of the high windows, and a soft smile spread across his face. Not that he had any doubt, but it felt nice to know someone would always come to rescue him.
When Archie pulled himself up and over, landing on the cement floor in a low crouch, Simon saw it.
Resting in the slit of the door he had seen earlier, was the end of a rifle.
It was with a sickening lurch of his stomach that Simon realized this whole thing was a trap.
Looking back, he had no idea how he hadn’t noticed earlier. Why else would they be trying to draw Archie to them?
He saw Archie rear up for a fight. He jerked against the restraints in the chair, but it was no use. Simon tried to scream. He tried to warn him, tell him to turn back and go, but no words would make it past the gag.
He watched as the tranquilizer dart stuck Archie right in the neck.
Archie froze. He locked eyes with Simon as if confirming his worst fears. Simon’s heart sank.
He saw Archie take a step. Then another, this one more unsteady. Finally, Archie’s eyes rolled back in his head and his knees buckled as he dropped into a heap on the cold floor.
When Simon saw the captors approach his body with boxes of medical instruments, he could only be silently grateful that Archie wasn’t awake to see the size of the needles.
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#this was fun!!! but also hard to write#i didnt realize how many things you had to keep track of in a kidnapping scene#the next part will be more focused on the whump and less about the situation so stay tuned for that ;)#whump#whumpblr#prompt fill#kidnapping tw#whump fic#whumper#whumpee#simon and archie
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Pre Ragnarok Thor used to be playful at times. Post Ragnarok Thor is a full on himbo.
But people mistaking / aligning his past playful behavior with his current himboness is what makes me pull out my hair.
"He was always a himbo!" NO HE WASN'T!
I’M JOINING YOU THERE 😭😭😭 Thor was PLAYFUL. He was SASSY. He was FUNNY and good-natured and kind and knew how to navigate situations to lift people up again. But Ragnarok!Thor and Love and Thunder!Thor just hurt me. The way he shattered that glass temple without a thought in the L+T introductory scene hurts my soul....
The only films I will defend as NOT disrespectful and out of character for Thor are “Infinity War” and, surprisingly enough, “Endgame”. (Both of which are unsurprisingly the ones NOT DIRECTED by our favorite daffodil man.)
But I mainly say that because Infinity War!Thor is in league with the original 2 Thor films, characterization wise, just with a darker tone, more fierce temper, and an entire insanity arc + revenge quest in tow... and Endgame I give a pass ONLY to Thor himself, and the things that he says and the actions that he takes. Mostly: the excessive drinking, food consumption as a stress reliever, and the concept of trying to escape his real world through a fantasy of some sort... (though I DESPISE the video game gag. It should have been actually anything else.)
The issue I take with Endgame is not Thor, but how the world and the characters surrounding Thor react to Thor from the first second to the last. They’re constantly making fun of him, belittling him, not including him in any team planning, blaming him for the snap, not trying to help him stop his blatantly obvious self destruction, are otherwise are openly and callously disgusted by or uncomfortable by his being there in the room for the aforementioned self-destruction, and that’s not talking about ABANDONING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS when everyone NOT NAMED TONY should have known better. (And I guess Clint because they weren’t ever close and Clint had his own heavy stuff going on.)
Steve should have checked in. He’s the leader and was Thor’s closest friend on the team. Natasha should have checked in, because she always USED to try and check in, and was taking charge of the team at the time. Bruce should have never left Thor completely in the first place, because nobody would understand how vulnerable, unsteady and in a dangerous place Thor would be in, mentally, emotionally and physically, than Bruce “The other guy spat it out” Banner, who let me remind everybody was THERE DURING THE LAST THREE TERRIBLE TRAGEDIES TO SEE IT FIRSTHAND. Rocket doing his own thing makes sense but then AT LEAST have him act with some level of patience towards Thor because he clearly was able to during Infinity War, and he would know better than anyone else (not named Bruce) how Thor is feeling and how awful it is.
And before anyone says “well they were all going though their own stuff and couldn’t be there for him” then I raise to you that Natasha was almost obsessively checking in with everyone and actively trying to keep things running, and Steve was hosting an emotional support and therapy group for post!snap victims in Falcon’s stead. Bruce was doing god knows what. The only person actually indisposed was Clint and he and Thor weren’t ever even close to begin with. And if you say “oh but they probably blamed him for the snap and that’s why” I just need you to really think about that statement and how awful that is, because they’re supposed to be his team and his friends. His earthen found family outside of the Jane crew. And even if they did blame Thor because they don’t know about Peter Quill and Gamora (who I’m sorry but I love Gamora; the snap is ENTIRELY her fault.) then that STILL doesn’t mean they can just ostracize and abandon the man and his people for five years because they’re mad.
I also take extreme issue with the cinematography team and the editing team for that film for deliberately making Thor the butt of the joke during the “how do we get the stones” scene in particular. (when Thor would have been the most valuable team asset. You know. Because he researched them and the glove made for them was made in one of HIS territories with HIS space metals.) and probably also that stupid “I think I’m having a panic attack” line because nobody says that. Otherwise, the man is drowning in his own despair at best and actively suicidal at worst because of everything that has ever happened to him the past 10 year phases 1-3 run, but yeah sure I guess that’s funny. And not unbearably heartbreaking.
#&&. whispers#&&. thor.#&&. | marvel. |#salt to taste#anti thor ragnarok#anti taika waititi#anti endgame#answered#anonymous#(man thinking about that 5 year skip is making me heated again.)#(god bless Scott Lang the only real mvp in that stupid group at the time I swear)#(bless him for just taking Thor where he was at and being the sweetest with him the whole time)#(where is more of THAT content in my life where’s my ant-man and Thor crossover movie)
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It’s Always Been You pt11
(Kyoya x Male Reader)
Chapter eleven
-Big Brother Is A Prince!-
He dust off your fitted police uniform, as the club waits around for the first wave of guests.
Y/n kept glancing over to Kyoya, he looked too good in the costume. He like out a huff, decided to deal with these feelings like a rational person.
By making fun of them, and turning them into jokes.
Y/n whistle while checking out Kyoya.
“Now I understand why people like a man in uniform.” Y/n grinned, putting his hands on his hips.
“What do you want now?” He looked up from his infamous black notebook.
“What? Can’t a man appreciate when another man is attractive-“ Y/n barely finished his sentence before breaking out into laughter.
Before Kyoya could say anything a door opens.
“Welcome!”
In the doorway was a little girl, blonde hair in pigtails and the biggest blue eyes you’ve ever seen.
Tamaki struts over to the girl and bends down to her eye level.
“Oh my, what an unusually young guest! Well, glad you’re here, my little lost kitty cat!” He kindly smiled.
“It’s a reverse harem!” The girl blurts out, pointing at the hosts.
The club is shocked.
“It’s a reverse harem.” She repeated.
Tamaki nervously chuckled, hitting his head.
“That can’t be right! Maybe there’s still water in my ears from when I went swimming.”
Hikaru joins in also laughing uncomfortably.
“Yeah water in the ears that must be it!”
“-because there’s no way this cute little girl said the words reverse harem.”
“There’s debauchery here.” She bluntly spoke, shocking the club evermore so.
“Yay there’s debauchery here!” She cheered.
“You’re the glasses character!” She points towards Kyoya.
“You’re his hopeless in love sidekick!” Y/n chokes on air.
“Uhm, you’re the boy Lolita and the stoic type!” She looks at Honey and Mori.
“Twincest! And the book worm”
She paused looking at Tamaki, a few minutes pass before tears welled up in her eyes.
“Big brother?” She whispered.
“Big brother!” She jumped into Tamaki’s arms.
“My brother is blonde, you must be him!” She cheered.
“You never told us about this!” Hikaru screamed.
“-since when did you have a little sister!”
“I don’t! I’m definitely an only chold, at least as far as I know.” Tamaki is now holding up the little girl.
“The more I look at you, the two of you do look a lot alike! You’re both blonde after all!” Honey adds in.
“I want to know if glasses character is superior to ‘Big brother’” Kyoya calmly states, watching Tamaki try and pull off the girl.
“But does it really matter? I can’t believe she called me a bookworm.” Haruhi grumbled, at this clearly inaccurateassessment of her character.
Y/n is just staring into space, how did this little girl know.
He was basically overheating.
“I believe she broke Y/n.” Kyoya spoke waving his notebook infront of his face. But to no avail.
“Excuse me, do you want to tell me your name little one?” He nervously murmured.
“Kirimi.” She happily answered, without a care in the world.
“Kirimi-chan-“ Tamaki spoke putting her down onto a couch.
“I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake, I’m really sorry but, I don’t have a younger sister.” He kindly spoke.
“Are you sure-?” She begins tearing up.
“You’re blonde just like me.” She whimpered. And Tamaki the weak willed fool folded.
“I give in!” He lifts Kirimi in the air spinning her around.
“As of this moment, I am your new big brother! You’re so cute!”
“I know you get carried away by emotion, but don’t you think it’s irresponsible to make such empty promises.” Haruhi brings Tamaki back to earth.
“Don’t you listen to that mean Haruhi. I’m not irresponsible! Come with me and I’ll look after you!” He counties to spin Kirimi in pure bliss.
Haruhi still looking at the two leans over to Kyoya.
“What do you think we should do, Kyoya-senpai?”
“We should probably find out if she actually has a brother that goes to this school.” Kyoya states, still trying to break Y/n out of his daze.
“Twins can you help me with Y/n.” He sighed walking over to Tamaki, as the twins smiled know exactly what to do.
“I think Kirimi-chan got your character troupe perfectly, huh?” Hikaru slides next to Y/n.
“-especially being in love with-“ kaoru is abruptly interrupted but a eerie door creeping opening, finally dragging Y/n back to reality.
“Kirimi… Kirimi…” The cloak figure creepily whispered, through the crack in the door.
The twins, quickly look over to the male.
He pops his head out the door, and the man is not wearing his usual cloak, revealing his bright blonde hair.
“Hey who the hell are you?” The twins rudely spoke.
“He looks like a foreigner!” Honey jumps in.
“What’s up with that? How come the door looks different all the sudden.” Haruhi furrowed her brows, at the lack of logic.
“Oh Kirimi…” Nekozawa quietly mumbled, before a girl with a catlike appearance roughly puts on the cloak and wig on him.
The club freezes realizing who it is.
“Nekozawa-Senpai!”
“Master Umehito is terribly vulnerable to any kind of bright light. For that reason, if he doesn’t shroud himself in black he will fall victim to the brightness of the outside world and will undoubtedly collapse!” The maid cried.
“Sounds like a someone we know.” Hikaru teased, poking Y/n.
“I’m not that bad!” He rebuttals, to unbelieving Twins.
“-on the other hand Kirimi, his sister, is frightened of dark dimly lit places.” The maid explained gestured towards the girl.
“So this little girl is Nekozawa-senpai’s younger sister.” Haruhi pointed towards the bright eyed girl.
“You are quite insightful. Yes, that would be correct, sir.” The maid wipes a tear with a handkerchief.
Tamaki places the little girl down.
“Kirimi, so this is where you’ve been hiding.” Nekozawa laughed. Frightening the girl.
“Brother! Save me from the monster!” She screeched, throwing herself back to Tamaki.
“Please don’t be scared-“ He walked up to her.
“I’d like to introduce you to someone. This is beelzenef-“ he holds up a cat hand puppet.
“The Nekozawa family has worshipped him for generations.” He eerily smiled.
“Y’know, I get the feeling she’s not scared of the puppet. Call me crazy, but I think it’s you.” She bluntly states.
Kyoya nods in agreement.
“It’s probably your clothes, we’ll help you change okay.” The twins began pulling on his cloak.
“No don’t do that! It’s far to bright, I may die!” Nekozawa pleads.
“I know! Why don’t we just darken the room!” Honey smiled closing the Host rooms curtains.
“Don’t do that I’m afraid!” Kirimi screamed.
“Don’t worry little one.” Tamaki comforts the girl.
“Either way someone’s unhappy.” Kyoya states the obvious.
“No shit Sherlock.” You teased, which earned a glare from Kyoya.
“Watch your language Y/n.” He scolded. Leaving Y/n with very strong feelings.
“It’s a tragedy that these two siblings are such polar opposites. As a result they’ve became known as the Nekozawa family’s Romeo and Juliet!” The maid dramatically compared.
“But Romeo and Juliet weren’t brother and sister, I think their situation is a little different.” Haruhi explains.
“Now I’m not defending her weird comparison but, weren’t they cousins?” Y/n questioned.
“Oh I’m well aware of that! To be honest it’s just something I just came up on the fly! Pretty impressive huh? I thought it might make it more dramatic.” She cheerful states.
“Oh I see.” Haruhi blankly spoke.
“We were sent by the masters family-“ the butler next to the girl bows.
“To get our beloved Mistress Kirimi back home safely.”
“Is the rest of the family-“
“As out of touch as the three of you are?” The twins uttered.
“How dare you say such a thing! The Nekozawa’s are a distinguished family! They’re descendants of the Tokarev dynasty of Russia!” She gritted her teeth.
“Tokarev huh?” Kyoya mummered.
“Wait, you mean Romanov right?” Tamaki tilts his head.
“There’s a legend that says every few hundred years, a Nekozawa child is born, a child who is destined to be possessed by the darkness exactly like our master Umehito, that legend may or may not be true.”
“What do you mean in may or not be true?” Honey curiously looked at the girl.
“Is it or isn’t?” The twins bored with this already.
“Mistress Kirimi, fell in love with the handsome fairy tale prince of an older brother she seen in portraits, however with Nekozawas issues, master is unable to go near his sister without being shrouded in black.
Once she found out that her older brother was enrolled here, she decided to go looking for him. That’s brought her to your host club.”
“We’ve tried comforting her with stories with princely characters like her brother, but we ran out of stories. So recently, we’ve decided to start reading her shoujo manga that had princely characters in them! And I’m afraid she’s became completely addicted!”
“Shoujo manga?” Haruhi gulped.
“I see, so that’s where that came from.” Tamaki commented.
“Is there really debauchery in your Shoujo manga? But, Sashimi-chan is so young.” Haruhi worried.
“Did you just say Sashimi?” Y/n grinned.
“Man I thought I was bad at names.”
“It’s kirimi.” Nekozawa reminded.
“So Kirimi-chan doesn’t know that you’re her real older brother?” Haruhi turned towards him.
“Yes, we’ve talked to her but she won’t believe us.” The maid mentioned.
“That’s so sad. Well no wonder Neko-chan is upset.” Honey rubbed away his own tears.
“It’s painful… that’s why, every single night I offer prayers in hopes one day Kirimi will embrace the darkness.” Nekozawa sadly spoke.
“I think you’ve got it backwards buddy, you should try to get accustomed to the light.” The twins explained.
“Come along Mistress Kirimi, it’s time to go home.” The staff begin to pull Kirimi away.
“No! I’m not going with you!” She clings onto Tamaki.
“I don’t wanna go home! I want to stay with my Big brother!” She cried.
“Nekozawa..” Tamaki muttered, holding the crying girl.
“Don’t worry about me, Suoh. All I want is for my sister to be happy make sure-“ he chokes out a sob.
“-she gets the love she deserves.” He bolts out of the room crying.
“Wait a minute!” Tamaki tried to stop him, but failed.
“Siblings relations are a source of problems in any family.” Kyoya pushes up his glasses.
“You and I would know the most of it, huh?.” Y/n spoke, taking a more serious tone.
Tamaki looked over at the two.
“Even so, I’m kinda jealous.” Haruhi states.
They looked over to Haruhi.
“I grew up an only child, so I can’t really relate, but I imagine how tough it must be to have a sibling so different from you that you can’t even spend time together.” Haruhi explained.
Tamaki sets down Kirimi once again.
“Is something wrong? Tell me big brother.” She looked up at Tamaki.
“I’m sorry Kirimi-chan, I’m not the big brother that you’ve been looking for.” Tamaki softly replied.
“Don’t worry-“ he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“-he’s still out there. Believe it or not, you have a big brother that’s even more handsome than I am! And I promise you he’s a real prince.”
“But senpai-“ Haruhi starts.
“Once she stepped foot into this room Kirimi-chan became a guest of the host club. And-“ Tamaki runs a hand through his hair.
“It’s our job to make all of our guests happy!”
“It’s an absolute tragedy to see a brother and sister at odds this way. We have to do something to help them! Starting now operation
‘Change Nekozawa-Senpai Into The Princely Character Of Kirimi-Chan’s Dreams’ is underway!”
“Are you serious?” The twins asked.
“You want to change Umehito from the prince of darkness to a prince of light? I don’t even know if that’s possible!” The maid gasped.
“Senpai! Quit getting carried away by emotions! Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Haruhi scolded.
“Shhh, I want to see how this plays out. Y’know, so shut it.” Y/n states.
“Oh have a little faith. Have you forgotten that we have an expert on our side? Someone knows the importance of changing characters.” Tamaki smirked.
“Wait- you don’t mean?” The twins looked at each other.
The floor rumble, gears turned and up comes Renge with her laughter.
“Well speak of the devil.” Y/n rubbed his face, already feeling the migraine coming.
After a few short minutes, the host club room was setup for the perfect training ground for Nekozawa, and Renge was once again taking role of coach, and yelling at him with a megaphone.
Shooting Y/n nerves straight to hell, if this kept up he would end up having an overstimulated breakdown.
He was now sitting at a table face down trying to muffle the noise.
Mori was by a black borde writing down prohibited words.
Honey was sitting on the table, while Kyoya was leaning against the table near Y/n.
“Looks like Renge’s on top of things.” Kyoya notes.
“Yep she’s on a roll.” Honey cheered kicking his feet, the movement only making Y/n feel worse, as a nauseating shiver ran up Y/n’a back.
“Is Y/n-chan okay? Kyo-chan?.” Honey worriedly looked at the barely living Y/n.
Kyoya looks at the state Y/n’s in.
Another sound of screams pierced the room, causing Y/n to try and sink further to the table.
“Did you bring your headphones today?” Kyoya quietly asked, not wanting to make you feel worse.
You shakily tapped on the table twice.
“Do you know where you put them?”
You hesitate for a second before tapping twice again.
“Is it in its usual spot?”
Two taps were followed after.
“Do you want me to get them for you?” Two taps again was heard.
Kyoya gets up, and heads over to one of the rooms to the side of the club, in the room was a bag, Y/n called it his emergency kit. He always supplied it with his headphones, countless fidget toys, and off to the side of the bag was the weighted blanket.
He quickly grabs the headphones, and a purple fidget toy, with clickable buttons. An addition Kyoya himself added.
Kyoya leaves the room and comes back to the table, he lightly taps the table next to where Y/n’s head is laying, he lifts his head up slowly. And grabbed the items from Kyoya.
He puts on the headphones, muffling his surroundings. Kyoya placed the toy in-front of Y/n and went back to leaning on the table.
“Kyo-chan? How did you know what Y/n-chan needed?” Honey whispered.
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“Well Y/n-chan tapped on the table and you knew exactly what it meant. And you were aware where it was?”
“We’ve been in the same class for years, you think something like this hasn’t happened before?” Kyoya calmly explained pushing his glasses up.
“I guess that make sense..” Honey mumbled in thought, feeling like his missing something.
Lights began flashing, trying to get Nekozawa akin to the light.
He screams, like a vampire to the sun.
“-but I thought you rejected the occult?” Nekozawa questioned.
“Occult fiction is good, occult fashion is not.” Renge explained as if it was obvious.
“Oh is that so?” Tamaki tilts his head.
“Don’t judge him! You’re the one always in cosplay.” the twins reminded.
“Here you go boss!” The twins mischievously smiled. Pushing a mannequin with a wig, similar to Haruhi’s hairstyle, and wearing a cute pink ruffled bathing suit.
“We got this one ready just for you!”
“You should go ahead and confess your love to this Haruhi doll!” The twins explained.
“You should teach him,by example.”
Tamaki gulped and nervously closed his eyes.
“H-Haruhi I-i…” he stammered.
“Excuse me.” The real Haruhi interrupted.
“H-Haruhi! You’re the real one! When did you get here?” He nervously tossed the doll off to the side.
“Kirimi-chan came to the host club looking for you.” She glared at the doll now on the floor.
“If you’ve got time to do disgusted things like this, surely you can spare some time to hang out with her for awhile!” She scolded.
“Horrible? Disgusting?” He whimpered retreating to a corner.
“Why don’t you keep her company Haruhi? What’s wrong, don’t like children?” The twins questioned.
“Well no, it’s not that I don’t like them or anything.”
“But she’s made me read about fifty volumes of shoujo manga to her over the last few days, and to my surprise? Those things are really full of reverse harems and debauchery.” She cringed at the memory.
“Big brother?” Kirimi looks around the room.
“This room is dark and scary!” She began crying.
“Oh Kirimi-Chan!” She runs up to the shaking girl.
“I told you to wait for me in the other room.”
Tamaki lifta Kirimi in the air, taking her out to the brightly lit hallway.
“You see? Nothing to be afraid of?” Kirimi giggles.
Nekozawa holds a flashlight to his face with new found determination. He flicks it on.
And chants ‘I am a princely big brother’ to work up the willpower.
“He did it!” Honey cheered.
Mori claps.
“Nekozawa-senpai has come a long way! Now being able to flash a light directly in his face!” Renge teared up.
“Bravo senpai, bravo!” The twins pull pop streamers, and loud bangs came off it.
Y/n flinched, still overwhelmed by everything.
Kyoya coldly glares at twins, causing the twins to nervously hide the now popped streamers behind their back, feeling a new sense of danger.
“Hey look, Kirimi-Chan hasn’t left the courtyard yet.” Hikaru spoke looking out the window.
“But there’s something down there with her. Oh, it’s just a cat.” Kaoru notes.
Nekozawa gasped and rushed over to look out the window.
“Your family sure does like cats.” Hikaru mentioned.
“Even strays warm up to your family.”
“They’re revered by our family it’s true, but Kirimi wouldn’t participate in something like that! Kirimi is afraid of animals, and most of all she’s afraid of cats!” He frantically looks around.
He decided the sane thing to do was rush down the stai- wait no he jumps out the window.
“But he’s not wearing his black cloak!” Haruhi states.
The host club watched out the now shattered window. They looked at awe at the former goth’s bravery.
Kyoya lets out a sigh. Causing y/n to move his head onto his arms, so he could look at him. He clicked the button on the fidget toy, to gain Kyoyas attention.
“Nekozawa jumped out our window.” Kyoya explained. Y/n hummed, looking blankly at the broken glass scattered across the room.
“Are you feeling better?” Kyoya spoke, writing the estimate expense of the windows.
Y/n tapped twice.
“Hm good.” He writes down in his book.”
Y/n takes an inhale, and points towards the book.
“My book? Do you want to say something?” Kyoya spoke.
He tapped twice on the table.
He flipped to an empty page.
“Please don’t try and look through it.” He teased before handing the book off.
He ignore his comment and began writing on the page, he hands it back as Kyoya looks at it.
His face softens for a second before adjusting his glasses.
On the page were the words ‘Thank you’ written in messy handwriting.
This rare moment of affection, was not ignored. Honey, finally connected the dots.
Leaving the twins, Mori and Honey. To be aware of the fondness for one another.
#x reader#lgbtq#lgbtqiia+#gay#kyoya ootori x reader#kyoya x reader#kyoya is gay#ouran fanfic#kyoya ootori#ouran kyoya#ohshc kyoya#kyoya ootori x male reader#ftm reader#ftm trans#transmasc#neruodivergent
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All the Things We’ll Leave Behind: ch 30, pt 15
Last bit of the chapter~
Like the last one, this one includes more explicit discussion of a potential threesome and boundaries.
Previously
~
lwj’s eyes flicked around the bedroom. He’d sat on the bed. He couldn’t stay in here long, not without making his friend feel worse than he probably already did. He hadn’t actually said if he’d changed his mind, lwj realized. Considering this—whether this would happen, whether he was okay with it happening—was useless, if jzxuan had decided it wasn’t worth it.
Wasn’t worth what?
Risking their friendship? Risking one of them catching feeling for the other? Risking something disrupting what they had between them now?
“I…” lwj trailed off, ears burning as images of jzxuan shirtless and stretching that morning, his ass flashing the doorway as he reached for the judgmental rabbit, of his scent, sweet as desert, flashed through his head.
He wasn’t even sure when he had smelled his friend like that. His brain could just be making shit up.
“We can discuss it,” his mate was saying, absently babbling to the world as lwj tried to sort through his feelings—not to mention bring his scent back under his control. “I just figured you should probably know all the details.” He glanced away, looking rather uncomfortable suddenly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have offered something like that without talking to you about it first. I mean! I told jzxuan you had to agree, but—”
His mate broke off, dragging a hand through his hair—or, trying to. His fingers caught on a handful of knots, and then he was swearing and tugging at them. He looked greatly in need of a shower, not to mention a proper night’s sleep.
“It is fine,” lwj said, trying to resist looking away, in case his mate noticed how his own ears burned. “I also… implied.”
wwx blinked at him, eyes wide and surprised, before everything about him sharpened. “Oh, yeah? Wanna tell me about it, baby?”
lwj felt even his cheeks begin to burn, a rare true blush. “I— we were wrestling and…” He trailed off, eyes shooting towards the bedroom door, drawn by the sour scent sweeping in from the living room. “I should go back.”
“Ah…” wwx’s eyes glittered, although a look of concern flashed through them. “Yeah. Don’t leave the little— Fuck! What is it?”
“You have a call,” someone said—his mate’s assistant, lwj assumed.
“Can’t it wait?”
“They have already been waiting.”
“Fuck,” wwx growled, hand once again trying and failing to run through his hair. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
lwj couldn’t see the assistant, but judging from the way his mate glared and added, “I swear on this entire fucking company, I will be out in a minute—maybe two,” he imagined the man had given his boss a look of general disbelief.
wwx sighed as a door closed, his attention returning to lwj. lwj liked his mate’s attention on him. “Go tell the little alpha whatever you like. I’m down for pretty much anything,” he said, giving lwj a cheerful wink, even as his expression filled with something… anticipatory. “And, feel free to do whatever the two of you want—save for, like, actual sex.”
lwj blinked back at his mate. “You don't… want to be here?”
“Well, yes and no?” his mate mused as he fiddled with things on his desk. “I want to be the first one to fuck you, and I want to be there if you decide to take the little baby alpha~”
lwj frowned at the older man, although wwx was so busy reordering paper that he didn’t seem to notice. Little baby alpha. He might be a little older than jzxuan, but not by much. Did wwx think of him that way as well? As a baby?
“Other than that, feel free to mess around with each other, if you like.” The man’s eyes shot back to his phone, pupils huge, and lwj hoped his next call wouldn’t be on video. It was rather obvious that wwx was… not in a professional mindset, at the moment.
“Just let me know, and feel free to send pictures—or better yet, videos.” A smile cut across wwx’s face. “Oh! And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you still owe me— WHAT!?”
wwx glared towards the door again, his assistant telling him that it had been several minutes, and he needed to stop having phone sex and work. “Asshole,” the other man muttered when his assistant was gone again.
“You should go,” lwj said, voice more than a little sad as he moved through the house. His eyes caught on jzxuan’s back, his friend still leaning against the kitchen island, his fingers tapping across the countertop. “I— We will talk to you later.” He watched as his friend’s shoulder’s tensed, something unsure but almost hopeful sneaking into the nervous scent he was releasing.
“Ah~” wwx sighed, something knowing flittering through his eyes. “Yes, we will talk later—all of us.”
“Goodbye, Xian-gege,” he said softly, coming to lean against the counter next to his friend. He turned slightly towards him. “Have you changed your mind?”
It took a moment for jzxuan to meet his eyes. A moment more for him to whisper, “No.”
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For the Fanfic Writing Meme: 22, 23, and 25. Thanks!
Fic Writing Meme
Oh man, these ones were super challenging but very thought-provoking on my end!!
22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?
I am not by nature a linear or plot-driven person, and am very happy just kind of. Exploring. Rhizomatically. XDD Which can be difficult when it comes to writing because I feel like I don’t have very much reflex for thinking, "I need to know what happens next!" Instead I’m like, oh, would it be beneficial to this story if there were any sense of suspense or destination? It would??
In the plot sense, I feel like usually it’s not surprising to me or the reader where the fic ends; it just slots into whatever comes next in the canon. In the sense of where a character ends up at the end of a story, I feel like I usually have a proposition for where I think they’ll end up, or an image I'd like to end on. But I try not to nail it down because I believe in writing as exploration, and if I’m too rigid about where something’s going, too early, it ends up feeling canned, or over-directed. So at best I have a suggestion of an ending, and whether it stays the ending really depends on how the character(s) end up feeling about it as the scenes develop.
23. How do you choose where to end a chapter (if you have multi-chapter works)?
When I was working on the Timey Wimey Train chapters of the Train Fic, their shape changed a LOT from draft to draft, and some of it related to content but a lot of it related to where the chapter breaks were going to fall. There were some iterations that left off on cliffhangers (oh look! suspense!) but I’d look at them and be like, LOL that’s dumb as hell. Cheap thrills! An episode teaser during Sweeps! In that particular instance, when I was choosing where the breaks would happen, the main things I was making choices about were things like, Does this break function as an effective suspense builder or red herring, or is it a disingenuous act? Is this a good faith deception, or is it not? Is any deception of any flavor actually beneficial here? (No.)
My impulse is to tell a full story in a chapter—to have thematic or narrative threads that build over the course of a chapter and reach a satisfying node (landing pad, even if not endpoint) by the end. But then I remind myself that a chapter is not a full story, and my trying to treat it as such goes right back to that sense of a thing being over-directed. My reminder to myself is that what I really want is a chapter that tells almost a full story—there’s some kind of narrative satisfaction; a sense that the ending is someplace different than the beginning; but I don’t actually want it to come full circle, or resolve, or answer more things than it asks.
25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing?
In the sense of like, dead dove-type things, there’s nothing that’s going to upset or bother me in that regard. I’m a big fan of being upset my media—things that can engender in my things other than 'happy' or 'sad'; I love things that make me feel characters' frustration, disgust, other forms of upset. So when if I’m upset about media it’s probably on purpose and I’m happy about it.
I’ve DEFINITELY felt bad about things I’ve written, because X happened, or because Y chose to do Z. And I’ll be like, wah, I’m sorry!! But either I can be like, but that is the story as it’s meant to be, and you know it, Character Y. Or I work on it until I end up as close to that feeling as possible.
The fic where I’ve felt that battle most strongly wasn’t for Bleach, but involved child abuse by someone who wasn’t ill-intentioned or villainous but under no circumstances should have been left with anyone’s children, and it’s kind of hard to say "well this is how it’s MEANT TO BE." Maybe it’s more of a "you know this happened, Character Y. You do."
For Bleach, it wasn’t upsetting so much as deeply uncomfortable, but the two sentences in the Train Fic where Hinamori’s like, well, Hitsugaya has a good memory and a gift for extrapolation and if he wanted to imagine her naked body he probably would not struggle to do so, but that she didn’t think he did—I was like WOW WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I HAVE NO DESIRE TO THINK ABOUT THAT LOL. Which was maybe an instance of narrator Hinamori telling *me* this is my story as it’s meant to be and you know it. XDDD
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Send 💭 for a look at one of my muse's memories! || Accepting!
@moonromantic asked: 💭 both bros!
For a long time, they were on their own. No matter who else was nearby, they were alone. Enslaved, trapped, abandoned, locked away, they had been isolated. Even now, it felt like they were each on their own island. An ocean of lost time spanned between them, populated by schools of regrets and swarms of unspoken words.
They sit in the same locker room, and neither speaks. They stare at each other. The Undertaker blinks. Kane blinks too. He tilts his head. The Undertaker looks away. He sighs.
“Kane, listen.” He says. Kane keeps staring, but nods once. He's listening. He’s good at that. It’s the other side of the coin he has trouble with. “I know this isn’t- How either of us thought things would work out.” His brother begins. Kane nods again. His brother shifts in his seat, scrubs the back of his hand against his lower jaw. He seems unsure, uncomfortable. Kane gets the feeling his brother might have been used to that sort of scrutiny before, but has since gotten out of practice. After another long moment, his brother looks up at him again. Kane meets his gaze, staring, studying. He does not know this man. He is a stranger. Not even a stranger wearing the face of family; Kane has not seen him since they were children. He does not know the Undertaker. The Undertaker does not know him. But they are family. They are linked. And that is something neither of them can change. The silence keeps stretching out as Kane stares at his brother more.
“I just- want you to know…” His brother fumbles. He stops again, sighs, collects himself. “I want you to know that this is your home, too.” Kane stares and tilts his head in the other direction.
Oh.
Well, he supposed that was true. It was his, right? That’s what his father had said over, and over, and over again. This is your home. It should be yours. You should take it back, son. Claim what's yours and–
Oh. His brother was still talking. He should probably listen. It might be important (he might get in trouble).
“-Welcome here.” His brother said. Kane blinked. He definitely knew what was going on in this conversation.
Yup.
His brother sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He sat there for a moment, slouched in his seat, bracing his elbows on his knees. Then he looks up at Kane, one brow arched marking his otherwise unreadable expression.
“You didn’t hear a thing I said, did you?” He asked. Kane flinched back. Oh, no. No no no. He was listening. He was listening, he promised-!
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” His brother waves a dismissive hand in the air. “I’m tired, too.” Another sigh, and yes, now that Kane looks at him… He looks exhausted. It’s a strange realisation to come to. His brother is exhausted. His brother, the terrible, terrifying, godlike force who had haunted Kane’s life for over two decades… Is tired. It's almost humanizing, though Kane isn't sure either of them can truly lay claim to the term. His brother drops his head again with a worn-down excuse for a chuckle. Kane sits back in his chair.
“You know,” his brother says, “I thought a long time about a moment like this.” Kane tilts his head. A moment like this?
“Where I could talk to you.” His brother explains. “I thought about it a lot.” Kane nods. He’d thought a lot about it, too, though he suspected for different reasons than his brother. What, then, could his brother have been thinking of?
“Just that I missed you.” … Oh. Well, that wasn’t what Kane had been expecting. He wasn’t actually sure what he was expecting, but it hadn’t been that. After another moment of thought, Kane leans forward and rests his forehead on his brother’s shoulder. Maybe he should work on his aim, then. His brother tenses in surprise, but relaxes again before Kane can draw back.
“Yeah,” his brother says, resting his hand on the back of Kane’s head, “maybe I should.”
#romancemoon#&& rest in peace; deadman ic#&& whispers from the crypt; deadman answers#&& the world aflame; demon ic#&& incendiary remarks; demon answers#&& a tale of two brothers; undertaker and kane#&& quoth the ravens three; deadman drabbles#&& when my problems began; demon drabbles
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Love and Fury
Chapter Preview: It led her to a laundry room at the back of Casita, and ended at Bruno, who was examining the green arrow Casita was pointing at him. Leandra gulped. Between the argument they had on Friday, and the incident the day before, she had no idea what to say to him.
Ch 1 Prev Next Master List
Chapter 12 Uncomfortable Conversations
“So,” Rosalie started.
“So,” Leandra agreed.
After Bruno had walked them back to Rosalie’s place they had first focused on getting Julio fed and settled down for a nap. Then they made themselves some lunch and ate in tense silence. Finally, Leandra had told Rosalie the whole story.
“Honestly, all I wanted was to gather evidence, see if I could clear your name,” Leandra repeated, “but then, at that party, Marianna started showing all the same symptoms you had before leaving that night and… and yeah. Things spiraled.”
Rosalie sighed and wiped a couple tears from her eyes, she opened her mouth, closed it, then sighed again. Finally, voice cracking on her pain, she said, “You should have told me sooner.”
“I know.”
“You should have asked for help before things got this far.”
“I know.”
“Señora Madrigal believed me from the very beginning,” Rosalie said, “a-at the time I wasn’t… ready to admit to myself that it was probably Cicero who-. I should have-, i-it felt like-. I never told her about Cicero, but if you had spoken to her about this, she would have helped you investigate. She would have helped protect the others. A-and she definitely wouldn’t have let Pepa get involved with him.”
Leandra frowned, “I know, b-but you weren’t talking about it so I figured you didn’t want…”
“Si… si,” Rosalie sighed again, she put her head in her hands, “ay dios, I should have said something. I have been such a coward.”
“Rosalie, no,” Leandra moved around the table so she could pull her friend into her arms, allowing Rosalie to rest her head against her torso as she stroked her hair, “you were attacked and when you tried to get help, you were punished for it. None of this is on you.”
“He’s tried the same thing on three other women in the past year,” Rosalie argued, “three women who trusted him because they didn’t know any better. Because I never told anyone it was him that did this to me.”
“I never said anything either,” Leandra sighed, “I should have though. You’re right. I-I’ll go talk to Señora Madrigal tomorrow, she’s been investigating a little, but I’ll go- we’ll figure something out.”
“He admitted it, you know.”
“W-what?”
“He admitted it was him,” Rosalie held herself, tears streaming down her face, “I wanted to pretend it wasn’t. I wanted to pretend I didn’t know who did it. We’ve… known him our whole lives, we were never close but we played with him when we were all little. We were friends. How could he…? How could anyone do something like this, you know? But that time he spoke to me after church, he admitted what he did, offered to- to ‘do the right thing’. I told him… I told him that my child would be better off as a whore’s bastard than as his heir.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Leandra stared at her friend for a few seconds, “Rosalie, you are a total badass.”
“What?” Rosalie sniffled, looking up at her.
“You looked the guy who raped you straight in the eye and told him to go fuck himself,” Leandra summarized, “that’s totally bad ass.”
Rosalie laughed tearfully, shaking her head, “I just, I couldn’t let a man like him into my child’s life. I would rather… well. I have chosen to live the rest of my life as the town’s resident harlot rather than put my son through that sort of risk.”
Leandra squeezed her friend close, “I don’t think…”
“He won’t be satisfied to leave us alone forever,” Rosalie sighed, nodding minutely, “I know.”
“We need to do something about him. Stop him once and for all,” she said, standing straighter.
“Right. No more sitting around praying he’ll disappear,” Rosalie lifted her chin, “what are you thinking? And will it require my revolver?”
“I’m thinking that you have a baby to worry about,” Leandra pointed out, “let me take care of the leg work. You take care of your son and get ready to testify in front of the village. And we'll put the revolver down as a maybe.”
But Rosalie was already shaking her head, ignoring Leandra's attempt at levity, “You are not doing this alone. Talk to Señora Madrigal, tell her what I said. She’ll help, and hopefully keep you from starting any more food fights.”
She blushed, laughing sheepishly, “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”
“No, it couldn’t,” she sniffed, “and clear things up with your boy. I expect to be kept abreast of all things to do with his godly body.”
They laughed together, Leandra taking the teasing in stride, even coming up with a few new ways to describe Bruno’s beauty. Rosalie cackled loudly when Leandra described Bruno as an “identity crisis flavored lollipop” and almost woke Julio, so they tried to quiet themselves down, shushing each other with wide grins.
Rosalie eventually asked, “Do… do we know if he did this to anyone before me?”
“Huh, y’know something, I have no idea,” Leandra wracked her brain, but she honestly hadn’t paid much attention to Cicero until he’d started pursuing Rosalie. And even then, she obviously hadn't been obsessed with catching him until he hurt her best friend. He’d had a reputation for skirt chasing ever since they were teenagers, but Leandra was pretty sure it hadn’t been quite as bad as it had been this past year.
“Is it horrible that a part of me hopes I’m not the first,” Rosalie whispered, then rushed to add, “It’s not that I want somebody else to be hurting like I am, I just… it would mean that this, all this horrible stuff, isn’t because of me.”
“It isn’t. It’s because of him,” Leandra said firmly. Rosalie grunted and nodded, but otherwise didn’t respond. Leandra gave her a bit of time to add more if she so chose, then changed the subject again, bringing up Bruno’s theory that Rico was actually a racist.
Rosalie accepted the subject with a wry grin, and they spent the rest of the afternoon talking literature.
Across the valley, Bruno was sitting in Pepa’s room, watching her pace back and forth while a hurricane raged around her. Some of it leaked out into Encanto, but thankfully it was no more troublesome than a regular thunderstorm. The farmers would be happy, it would be good for the crops.
He still didn’t know exactly what was happening, but there was no mistaking who Pepa was angry at this time.
“Joder!” she cursed, for what was probably the twentieth time, “I should have known he wouldn’t give up that easy.”
“Pepa, it’s ok,” Julieta soothed, “It isn’t your responsibility. You didn’t want to be anywhere near him, which is perfectly understandable, and you don’t have to worry about it. Bruno is protecting Señorita Lopez, right Bruno?”
“Uh, si. Claro. Definitely,” Bruno nodded. Would it be too awkward to ask for an explanation at this point? If he told them he didn’t understand what was happening then they’d want to know why he was “protecting” Reina, and then he’d have to explain that he’d assumed Reina was the villain of this story, which probably wouldn’t go over well because…
“Gracias Bruno! Gracias,” Pepa breathed, her bottom lip began to wobble, “I- ay dios, please promise me again you won’t stop. I-I know you wouldn’t, you would never just abandon somebody in need, b-but please, it makes me feel so much better knowing you’re looking out for her. After what she did for me, it’s the least we can do.”
Because everybody else saw Reina as the hero of the piece.
“Claro,” Bruno nodded some more.
Just nod and agree, he told himself, pretend you’re not completely lost, things might start to make sense eventually.
He threw a bit of salt over his shoulder and knocked on the wooden chair he was sitting on.
Pepa smiled shakily at him, then whipped around and began ranting about what she would do to Cicero if she thought she could get away with it. Bruno glanced at Julieta and found her nodding in agreement. Seriously, what did Cicero do?
Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been illegal, because the last time somebody had done something illegal they’d been banished from Encanto.
Or at least, the last time somebody had done something dangerous and illegal they were banished. The last person to do something not dangerous and illegal was some kid who wrote insults all over his ex-girlfriend's house. He just did community service.
But the point stood, Cicero wasn’t banished (or doing community service), ergo, he must not have broken the law.
However, Bruno knew there was a whole bunch of stuff a man could do to hurt a woman without technically breaking the law. Looking back on the night when Reina had thrown her food on Pepa, Reina had whispered something in Pepa’s ear while Cicero was bent over laughing, or in other words, when he was less likely to notice. She’d only started pretending the food thing was an accident when Cicero had recovered from his mirth. So, given the way everybody was acting now, she’d probably whispered some sort of warning to Pepa.
A warning that was very quick, but immediately damning, since Pepa used the food as an excuse to leave the party.
“I wanted to get him away from Pepa,” Reina had said, not “I wanted to steal him away” but “I wanted to get him away”. So, Reina must have felt that Pepa was in some sort of danger? But assault is illegal, if Reina knew Cicero was going to hurt Pepa then he would be banished.
Something that’s not illegal, but is very hurtful… infidelity? Had Reina caught him cheating on Pepa? No, because everybody wanted Bruno to keep protecting Reina. Cicero must pose some sort of threat, but not an illegal one, so…?
Bruno’s head hurt.
He switched angles, focusing on Reina’s actions since this whole thing began. Apparently, she was motivated by her anger over whatever Cicero had done to Rosalie. Bruno’s first thought was that Cicero had been the one who drugged Rosalie, but that couldn’t be it, because again, it couldn’t be something illegal or they’d kick Cicero out of Encanto.
Reina had said Cicero was playing a game, what game?
Reina had driven Pepa away from Cicero, but had yet to expose her hatred for the man. In fact, she had allowed Bruno to believe that she was interested in Cicero. Was she playing whatever game Cicero was? Did she plan to beat him at his own game in order to get revenge for Rosalie? Why hadn’t she told Bruno the truth?
He sighed.
If he was going to be honest with himself, he was a little hurt that Reina had essentially lied to him so she could use him for whatever she was doing. If she had told him that she had only been trying to warn Pepa and she needed protection from Cicero, he would have helped her. Instead she chose to mislead and manipulate him.
Then she had the nerve to call him an idiot for not seeing through her misdirection.
Now he found himself in this weird place where he felt grateful that she had protected his sister, guilty for jumping to conclusions, and embarrassed that he’d been so easily conned. Not to mention worried that Reina maybe thought he couldn’t be trusted to stick up for a woman in need?
She had said she always thought he was a push over, had she meant that? What about when she’d said she enjoyed his company? Had she meant any of the nice things she said about him?
He suddenly found himself questioning every interaction he’d ever had with her, trying to parse out what she actually thought of him. Then he scowled at himself for even caring what somebody who had lied to and used him thought. Of course, if she’d gone out of her way to protect Pepa then she was probably a good person, and if she was a good person then he didn’t want her to think he was a coward, or an idiot.
His head hurt again.
Ugh, and he had just promised Pepa that he would continue to protect Reina, so it’s not like he could just avoid her. He would have to talk to her and it would be both awkward and painful.
Horrid.
Speaking of awkward and painful, Alma was not having a good Sunday. She found herself sitting at the Gutierrezs' tea table, on the veranda overlooking the grape vines, having a deeply uncomfortable conversation with Cicero’s mother. She couldn’t afford to show all of her cards, not yet, but something needed to be done to protect the young women of Encanto. Which is why Alma found herself hedging and sympathizing when she wanted to be yelling and raging.
“I know he likely doesn’t mean any harm,” Alma felt like she may gag on the words, like she was throwing up bile rather than speaking, “but you know how eager young men can be. I fear he’s coming across a bit more crass than he probably realizes. After Pepa told me she felt Cicero was only interested in using her, I spoke to a few of his other recent flames and they said much the same thing.”
Señora Gutierrez sighed, “Oh my poor boy. He really is too passionate for his own good, and he just hasn’t been the same since that woman cheated on him.”
Alma took a sip of tea to wash down her first response to that, the prevailing rumor that had spread in the wake of Rosalie being found in the barn was that she had been dating Cicero and made up the rape story in order to cover the fact that she'd cheated on him. This rumor had been started by Cicero himself, but spread and encouraged by his mother.
Rosalie's insistence that they had never dated fell on deaf ears.
“We all go through heartbreak, I understand your son must be quite hurt, but perhaps it is time he looked for a constructive outlet for his pain. He is only making life harder for himself, in the long run.”
“You’re probably right,” she nodded, still looking heartbroken for her poor, poor, boy, “his father is already quite upset about the scene at the church today. Cicero promised us he was going to stay away from Rosalie, b-but I guess he just couldn’t take seeing her every Sunday anymore.”
“Indeed, multiple people saw him approach the young women and start the interaction,” Alma couldn’t help but point out, then she tacked on, “his pain must be getting the best of him. Maybe you can encourage him to spend more time helping here at the winery, I’m sure spending a bit more time with you and his father would help the young man.”
Señora Gutiérrez smiled at the suggestion, but shook her head, “I don’t know how he would take it, he is such a strong willed boy.”
Alma forced herself to smile sympathetically, it was the only way to hide her sneer. It was no secret that Cicero's mother was the one who spoiled the boy. His father was a good man, who had carried an injured stranger (who would later become his father-in-law) away from the raiders and into the village. Señor Gutiérrez was a man who believed strongly in kindness, discipline, and justice. He was a man who believed in doing what was right simply because it was right, and atoning for even the slightest wrongs you commit.
Señora Gutiérrez was a woman who had once dreamed of having five kids and thirty grandchildren, only to struggle to get pregnant even once. Cicero was the only child she would ever have, and so she doted on him endlessly. She had always had a bad habit of protecting Cicero from the consequences of his actions, and cajoling her husband into doing the same.
“Señora, if I may,” Alma put her cup and saucer down and gave the other woman a firm but compassionate look, “I know you love your son very much, and you would never want to cause him unhappiness, but if he continues as he has been he will only create more problems for himself. I take it you want grandchildren one day? To see your son happily married? What sort of prospects do you believe he will have if he continues to nurture his current reputation?”
Señora Gutiérrez also put her cup down, staring into it contemplatively, she sighed, “I see your point.”
“I am sorry, I am, I know it isn’t easy to watch your children struggle,” Alma reached across the small table and patted her hand, “but please, for the sake of both the village and your son, you need to rein him in. Help him. At least until he’s on the other side of his… heartbreak.”
“I will speak to my husband, he- we will figure something out.”
Alma nodded, she wanted sorely to leave that instant and check on Pepa, the thunder was distant but the rain poured just past the overhang. Unfortunately, Alma needed to seem unbothered, non-threatening, if she was going to keep the Gutiérrezs’ collective ears. She needed Cicero to think he was getting away with his crimes. So, she put on a cheerful smile and changed the subject to something lighter. Something inane.
She sat there having tea with the mother of the man who had tried to rape her daughter and, for one of seven times in her life, wished Pepa would make a hurricane.
Sadly for her, Felix showed up at Casita that evening with a basket of treats from Better Pastry Chef. He delivered them to Pepa with a quiet smile and told her he thought her storms were amazing, but he hated that they meant she was upset. He sat with her as she complained about the hoops women had to jump through in order to protect themselves, and offered no solutions, no promises, only a few jokes to lift her mood.
Monday morning saw not one, not two, but three rainbows spread over Encanto.
Leandra stopped Felix when she ran into him on her way to Casita and asked, “Did you do this?”
“I hope so,” he responded, grinning dreamily at the sky. Leandra couldn’t help but smile at him, his crush on Pepa was a welcome relief from her own troubles.
“She really likes herbal scents,” Leandra told him, “says they remind her of afternoons spent playing in Julieta’s room. You know, in case you’re thinking of changing your cologne or buying her gifts or something.”
Felix rolled his eyes, but accepted the teasing with a good natured smile, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Leandra wished him the best and continued on her way. As promised, she headed straight for the Madrigal residence to talk to Alma. Casita opened the front door for her before she could even knock and greeted her by waving a light fixture at her.
“Hola,” she waved back, “Is Señora Madrigal in?”
The light fixture turned side to side.
“Oh,” she chewed on her lip, should she go and come back later? She didn’t really want to make the trek all the way home just to return. Besides, the tiles under her feet kept scooting her further into the house inch by inch, “I’m guessing you want me to stay a while.”
The light fixture bobbed up and down.
Leandra smiled, “Alright, I’ll stay. By the way, how have you been, Casita? It’s been a while.”
She’d only ever “met” Casita twice before all this started. There had been an illness sweeping through the livestock of Encanto and her father had sent her to ask Bruno how many of their goats would be left when the disease was done with them. Bruno had disappeared into his room and came back with the requisite glowing green tablet which she took to her father. The next year was hard, but not as hard as it would have been if they weren't properly prepared, so her father had sent her back to give Bruno a thank you basket full of cheeses.
She’d snuck in a few bars of the first soaps she had ever made.
The light fixture twisted itself so it roughly resembled somebody holding up their thumb.
“Good, glad to hear it, or um, see it.”
Some tiles clattered merrily at her, and she hoped that was just a general expression of happiness and not a sentence. She had heard that Señora Madrigal could hold entire conversations with Casita, something that Leandra assumed was due to her being the candle holder, because nobody else in the village spoke house.
The tiles scooted her a few more inches inside, drawing her attention, “Oh, um, do you want me to go somewhere?”
With a great clatter, Casita laid out a path of green tiles towards a corridor that passed behind the kitchen. She hesitated a moment too long and received a few more urging scoots, so she sighed and followed the path. It led her to a laundry room at the back of Casita, and ended at Bruno, who was examining the green arrow Casita was pointing at him.
Leandra gulped. Between the argument they had on Friday, and the incident the day before, she had no idea what to say to him.
He hadn’t noticed her yet so she began to back out of the room, only for Casita to move the tiles under her feet and force her forward. She just barely kept from falling onto Bruno as he gaped at her, clearly surprised to see her.
For a brief moment Bruno worried that Casita had somehow kidnapped Leandra for the express purpose of forcing her to explain everything to him. Then she opened her mouth.
“Uh hola,” she said, laughing nervously, “I uh, w-was looking for your mother but um-.”
The house seemed to dance around them, Casita saying something that Bruno only partially understood and Leandra didn’t catch at all. She looked to him to translate but he just stared evenly back at her.
He was pretty sure Casita had said something along the lines of, "Kiss and make up!" and Bruno didn't feel like explaining why his magic house might want him to kiss her.
He sighed and turned back to the laundry in the wash basin, “Hola.”
The shutters drooped, looking like they were pouting. Leandra wasn’t usually the sort to feel embarrassed or be affected by awkward situations but now she found herself wondering what to do with her hands, or whether or not she should back away from Bruno.
She decided to stay where she was in case Casita was determined to keep her in that spot. Even if it was a bit closer to Bruno than was currently comfortable.
“So,” Leandra said.
“So,” Bruno agreed.
There was a tense pause.
“What do you actually want with Cicero?” Bruno scrubbed at a small red stain on one of Julieta’s blouses. It came out easily enough. Probably bell pepper juice from Saturday’s dinner.
Leandra’s shoulders drooped, she’d figured this question would be coming, but she hadn’t really expected Bruno to be so blunt about it, “I want him to stop hurting people.”
“And me? What do you want from me?”
“I-,” she hesitated, there was a long list of things she wanted from Bruno but now probably wasn’t the best time for flirting, “I guess I just wanted to avoid interacting with Cicero without having to reveal I know what he’s done.”
Bruno sighed and nodded, without actually looking at her.
“So… does this mean you know what’s going on? With Cicero, I mean.”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“You’re free to tell me,” he pointed out, giving her a side-long look.
She grimaced, “Not really.”
He paused, turning to frown at her. She found herself bizarrely struck by the fact that he had freckles on his nose. How had she never noticed before?
“It’s not really my place to tell you, it’s Pepa’s. I can’t go telling people her business. Especially not her own brother, it would be a massive overstep.”
He scowled at the laundry in the wash basin. She had a point. But did she genuinely care about respecting Pepa’s privacy, or was she just pretending so she wouldn’t have to tell Bruno the truth?
“You could ask her,” she pointed out.
Bruno scowled harder, another really good point. If he just got over his embarrassment and admitted he had no clue what was going on with Cicero, Pepa would tell him.
“I promised her I would keep protecting you from him.”
“Oh. I- you don’t have to. You’re clearly not comfortable with the situation.”
He frowned, so she did think he would put his own comfort over her safety. Ouch.
“Well, yes, but that’s only- you lied to me, you let me think- so you could- could, what? Get revenge on Cicero for whatever he’s done,” Bruno huffed, “but whatever. Whatever! Pepa is really worried about you and I promised I would handle it so I’ll just- let’s just not talk.”
Leandra frowned at his back, “Hold on, you would rather be angry at me for playing along with your assumptions than have one, one, awkward conversation with your sister?!”
“And calling me an idiot for not seeing through your, your… little scheme. Don’t forget that part.”
Leandra scowled, “Well maybe I wouldn’t call you an idiot if you weren’t acting like one!”
“How am I-?!”
“You’re the one who came barreling up to me and making accusations! Did you talk to your sister about what happened at all?”
“Of course I did!”
“Really?! Because I stopped by two days after the quinceanera and offered to replace Pepa’s dress. How did you not find out about that?! And! And we spent the past few weeks together getting to know each other, you didn’t once think ‘Gee, she sure is a lot less petty and boy obsessed than I thought she’d be’? Do you know me, at all? For God’s sake Bruno, do you even know my first name?!”
“Well…”
“And then, then we hit one obstacle, one little bump in the road and you’re all ‘I don’t want anything from you’ and 'I'm just here until I get what I want'. Which was just stupid! Not to mention a total contradiction! I thought we- that you… whatever, obviously you would rather assume the worst of me than- whatever.”
“Now hold on, if you don’t want people making assumptions about you then, hey, gee, here’s an idea, maybe correct them! You could have told me I was wrong.”
“How was I supposed to know that?!”
“What do you mean how were you supposed to know that?! Do you not know how to tell the truth?”
“No, I mean, I had no idea why you had no idea what was happening, what if Pepa hadn't told you for an actual reason?” Leandra pointed out, “Again, this isn’t my business. It is not my place to decide who does and doesn’t know what happened to Pepa.”
Bruno frowned at her, his brows slowly rising from a scowl as a horrible thought crawled up from the back corner of his brain.
“I mean, no matter what I did, even if I pretended to apologize to Pepa from the start, my options were to lie to you or breach Pepa’s privacy. At least this way I didn’t have to deal with Cicero slobbering on me all day!”
Bruno gulped. He didn’t respond to her, he just turned back around and began scrubbing at a stain that only he could see. It dawned on her, a bit too late, the implications of what she’d just said.
Leandra grimaced, mentally kicking herself.
She really, really needed to learn to think things through when she was emotional. It was all well and good to make a plan when you're feeling even minded, but she was learning that sometimes you can't avoid making a decision (or having a delicate conversation) until you had calmed down.
Which is how you end up misleading a really great guy, calling him an idiot when he didn't see through the deception, then accidentally implying that his sisters don't trust him.
“Bruno, I’m sure this is all just a misunderstanding. Does Pepa even know you don’t know? I’ve never gotten the chance to ask her. She probably doesn’t have any problem with-, I-I’m sure if you just asked her, she’d tell you.”
He continued to not say anything, he didn’t have to, they both heard the question “But what if she doesn’t?” loud and clear.
Eventually, he stopped scrubbing and just stared at the brush. What if Pepa and Julieta were fully aware that he didn’t know what was happening? What if they’d left him in the dark on purpose? Did they not trust him?
No! No. They did, they had to. They were trusting him to protect Reina. It wasn’t that-. They trusted him. He shook his head to send those thoughts rattling back to their dark corner.
He scowled at the sink basin, “None of this changes the fact that you manipulated me for whatever stupid game you and Cicero are playing.”
“I’m not playing games, Cicero is dangerous!”
Bruno whipped around, “If he’s that dangerous then why didn’t you just ask for help instead of lying to me?!”
“If the truth matters that much then why don’t you just talk to your family?!” she retorted.
They glared at each other for what felt like forever.
Horribly, Bruno’s eyes were drawn to her lips, which pouted back at him. He immediately returned his gaze to her eyes, but she had already noticed. She looked from his eyes to his mouth and back again, then she huffed and took a step back, turning minutely away from him. For some reason that small rejection hurt more than Bruno expected it to.
Leandra held herself to help stave off the sudden temptation to kiss him. He may have been pissing her off but he was nevertheless, rather unfortunately, a very handsome man. Especially when his anger straightened his spine and kept his shoulders from drooping.
If she really thought about it, and she rather wouldn’t while she was still angry, she sort of liked this side of Bruno. A side that stood up for himself instead of quietly accepting others' scorn.
And deep down, she wondered if Bruno would feel comfortable arguing with just anybody. Was this a sign of trust? Or disdain?
“Bruno,” she said, not content to live in this painful moment forever, “I can understand if you don’t trust me, I can. But! But you don’t get to cast judgment on my actions when you won’t even try to learn the full story. If you talk to Pepa and decide you’re still angry at me, fine, that’s fair. I... haven't handled this well, I know. But until then, I don’t want to spend time with somebody who just assumes the worst of me because it means they don’t have to step outside their comfort zone.”
Bruno opened his mouth to say something, he had no idea what, he was just as likely to continue the argument as he was to apologize. Before he could figure out which it would be he heard his mother call out a greeting.
Leandra heard it too, she sighed, and turned to walk away from him but didn’t get past the laundry room doorway. She opened her mouth to say something else, but closed it, and left Bruno to his laundry.
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There's a Will; There's a Way (Book 4) Chapter Five
Dazai Osamu x Fem! Reader
Chuuya Nakahara x Fem! OC
Chapter Five: Reunions and Confrontations
Summary: Mori has to deal with the consequences of his actions. Unfortunately, he doesn't get his ass beat.
“Akira.”
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Eleven years, if I’m not mistaken,” said Akira coolly.
(Y/N) felt extremely uncomfortable just sitting in the same room during the father-daughter reunion.
“You are correct,” said Mori calmly, an impressive feat in the face of what was happening.
“How are you?” asked Akira, smiling with faux brightness. “I’m sure we have a lot to catch up on between your criminal misdeeds and my trauma!”
Mori looked down at her dangerously. “I will remind you that you’re currently my guest, and unlike the Armed Detective Agency, no deal has been made for your safety.”
Chuuya’s eyes narrowed, and he clenched his fists. A subtle red glow appeared around his hands. He couldn’t cross his boss, but he cared about Akira. He didn’t appreciate her being threatened.
“I don’t need anyone to make deals for me,” hissed Akira. “And I can handle anyone you throw at me. You might have abandoned me because I wasn’t ‘useful’ to you and ‘weak,’ but you were very wrong. I’m stronger than you could imagine. So come on, stop fucking around.”
“Watch your tongue,” said Mori.
“Or what? You’ll throw me out and abandon me again?” Akira pretended to think. “Oh, wait, you already did that. You need something new! How about trying to kill me? That would be exciting!”
“It would be a waste of time to kill you,” said Mori scornfully.
Akira shrugged. “Probably.” She smirked. “But only because you would take a long time fighting me just to fail. I’d win.”
“I gave you a warning.” Mori’s tone was dark and dangerous. “I won’t give you another.”
“Spoken like a father! Unfortunately—” Akira’s eyes turned pitch black “—you lost that title eleven years ago. You know, when you abandoned me because I wasn’t useful to you.”
The tension was palpable. It felt like a literal storm was brewing between Mori and Akira. Chuuya’s eyes flitted between the two, as did (Y/N)’s. Both had abilities suited to stopping a battle should one begin. Yosano was clenching her fists angrily, fully prepared to fight with Akira. She, too, knew the pain of Mori’s guidance. She wanted revenge for all he’d done as well. Jun’ichiro and Kenji remained still and quiet. The entire room was on edge.
Suddenly, the door opened, and Hirotsu walked in. Every head turned to him. He bowed.
“Boss. Pardon the interruption,” he said, holding out a radio. “This radio was left in the entrance.”
Everybody relaxed slightly as they listened in. Even Akira calmed, though that might have been Chuuya reaching out to touch her hand for a moment. (Luckily for the pair, (Y/N) seemed to be the only one who noticed. She also had a suspicion that this confrontation was only the beginning. Even if interrupted now, Mori and Akira would have to argue talk things over.)
“Yo! How are you, old sport?” A man’s voice came over the radio.
Fitzgerald?! thought (Y/N) in surprise.
“It’s been a while! I’d like to laugh at your difficult situation, but there’s no time, so I’ll keep it brief,” said Fitzgerald. “I’ve sent the tiger boy to you.”
“Atsushi!” exclaimed (Y/N) happily.
“He’s alive!” Kenji and Jun’ichiro grinned.
“…Why would that young man come here?” questioned Mori.
“He made a deal,” explained Fitzgerald coolly. “To use a healing ability for my sake. In exchange, I’ll give him information that can revive the Detective Agency. The meeting will take place in twenty minutes on fifth street.”
“Wait a minute,” said Mori. “How do you know about this hideout—.”
“Goodbye.” Fitzgerald hung up.
“…How odd,” murmured Mori.
“Odd?” asked Hirotsu.
“Yes, how did he even discover this hideout?” remarked Mori.
“It’s not that hard to get that type information,” said Akira, rolling her eyes. “If your smart, that is. But even so, Fitzgerald has the Eyes of God, which is much more reliable.”
Mori glanced at her. “If he knew about this place, he should’ve made a deal with the military instead. There’s a better payoff from helping the powerful ‘Hunting Dogs’ rather than the weak Detective Agency. The Fitzgerald I know is the strong type. He’s a man who supports the winning side. This deal—Isn’t it a trap?”
(Y/N) stood up. “It doesn’t matter. We have to get Atsushi and Kyouka.”
Yosano nodded. “We’ll take any risk.”
(Y/N) walked out the door, heading through the winding corridors towards the outside. As Yosano to the door, Mori blocked her path subtly.
“Yosano…” he said warningly.
“Go to hell, there are more important things at stake then getting a new puppet,” hissed Akira, placing herself in front of Yosano.
The female doctor glared at Mori defiantly. “I’m saving the Agency.”
They went past him without a second glance. As Akira passed Chuuya, however, she paused. She looked into his eyes briefly before they flitted to the ground. Before anything else could happen, Akira continued forward and pretended nothing had transpired. Chuuya watched her walk off, trying to think of a believable excuse to follow.
Jun’ichiro and Kenji glanced at each other. They were worried about (Y/N) and Yosano’s willingness to go right into a trap. They hurried past the mafiosi after the women, who were farther ahead.
Trailing behind (Y/N), Akira and Yosano and walked through the halls.
“You were…impressive back there,” said Yosano.
“Well, the asshole deserved it,” said Akira shortly.
Yosano stopped, causing Akira to as well. The doctor looked down.
“Do you dislike me, too?” asked Yosano. “I mean, I…I never came back for you. I never looked for you after joining the Agency. Don’t you blame me for that?”
“I’m no psychologist, but I think that you’re blaming yourself for something,” quipped Akira.
“I don’t like to look back on the past,” said Yosano. “But…when I saw you, I was shocked.”
Akira raised an eyebrow. “Well, it was fifteen years ago. And unlike me, you haven’t really kept up-to-date on my life,” chuckled the red-eyed woman. It was halfway between a joke and the pointing out of a betrayal.
“I’m serious,” snapped Yosano. She took a deep breath. “I know people change as they get older, but you have the same look in your eyes as I do. You went through a lot, like I did. And I’m sorry for not finding you. Maybe then you wouldn’t be—.”
“Be what? Damaged? Broken?” hissed Akira. “I get it. I’m fucked up. Trust me, I know.” She sighed and pinched her forehead. She didn’t want to be angry at the first person who had been her friend. “Look, it isn’t your fault.”
“It still feels like you don’t like me,” remarked Yosano. “You wouldn’t even let me heal you with my ability. Even if you do heal quickly…it does suggest there’s more.”
“I don’t…I don’t like being reminded of what your ability is.” Akira chuckled bitterly. “It has to do with Mori.”
Yosano frowned.
“You became important to him because of your ability. You got to spend time with him. He adored teaching you. He has a fucked-up way of showing it, but you became the daughter he wanted.” Akira sighed. “I was jealous of you. And I’m trying to get over that, but…seeing as he still wants you on his side more than anyone else…it’s going to take some time.” She turned away. She didn’t want to continue the conversation any longer.
“Dr. Yosano! (Y/N)!” called Jun’ichiro, running up with Kenji.
Yosano turned while (Y/N) walked back to meet them.
“Are you guys seriously going to walk straight into a trap?” asked Jun’ichiro concernedly.
“If it gives us a chance to find Kyouka and Atsushi, then yes,” said (Y/N) firmly.
“Dr. Yosano’s doing it so she doesn’t have to join the Port Mafia, isn’t she?!” challenged Jun’ichiro. “Then…let me join instead. I’ll do it for you. Just tell me why you can’t do it, and I will.”
“Jun’ichiro…” (Y/N) glanced at Yosano, who was clearly uncomfortable.
“What happened between you and that mafia boss?” asked Jun’ichiro. “Does it have to do…with the Hunting Dogs’ talk of the ‘Angel of Death?’ ”
“Yeah…” admitted Yosano. She smiled. “I suppose I can’t have anyone fussing over me. All right. I’ll tell you as we walk. Long ago, the president and Mori were friends, part of the ‘Tripartite Scheme.’ But now they’re enemies. Why do you think that is? It’s because of me.”
(Y/N), Akira, Kenji, and Jun’ichiro listened intently as Yosano told them of her time in the war. Occasionally, they gasped or frowned as they considered the situation in which Yosano was placed. It gave an explanation and look into her mind. At the same time, it was heartbreaking.
She was a nursing assistant to Mori, a doctor at the time, on a carrier base. She was constantly healing the troops, which allowed them to continuing fighting long after other groups would have to retreat. One particular man became her friend, even gave her the gold butterfly pin she wore today. Yosano eventually began to understand that she wasn’t just there to heal men as a medic, she was there under some pretense for Mori to try to create some sort of “immortal regiment.” Life in the war became tougher and tougher, especially for an eleven-year-old constantly using her ability. Mori pushed her farther, physically and psychologically. When she didn’t want to heal someone so they could go home, he’d put them on the brink of death to force her. Yosano began to feel hopeless, listless. The final straw was when the man she’d become friends with…ended his own life in order to escape the constant cycle of death and destruction. Yosano’s mind was truly broken.
After the war, she was taken to a hospital and locked away. Yosano didn’t care. The three years blended together. The person who arrived to take her out was Mori. Luckily, Fukuzawa arrived to fight for her freedom. That was when she met Ranpo and got back some of her hope for the future. That was when Dr. Yosano of the Armed Detective Agency was born.
l
Inside a hidden prison, two men hung in suspended cells opposite each other. Fyodor and Dazai met once again.
“Shall we have a super happy chit-chat about our problems?” called Fyodor, supremely bored.
Dazai stared inexpressively at him. He was willingly to put on a friendly façade, but with everything the Russian had put (Y/N) through, it would be tough.
“So it’s finally happened! I, Dostoevsky, am the prime-time host of the vert first ‘Super Happy! Problem Discussion!’ ” said Fyodor.
“I’m going to need you to hold on for a minute,” said Dazai.
Fyodor cocked his head. “What is it?”
“…” Dazai stared at him. “What the fuck.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Fyodor.
They were both quiet.
“Hm.” Dazai considered. “A discussion. That’d definitely be impossible without a chance like this.”
“I’m grateful for your quick understanding,” said Fyodor. His eyes darkened. “Thanks to the nature of my mind, I can read the thoughts of my opponents. But that means I can’t ‘discuss’ with others unless my partner has an intellect equal to me own, like my angel.” His tone became more lighthearted. “So this is a chance to exchange thoughts on our problems.”
Dazai mouth twitched into a momentary frown at the mention of (Y/N). He knew that she was incredible clever, there was no doubt. However, it was irksome that Fyodor still obsessed over (Y/N). It was even more aggravating to Dazai because (Y/N) was his girlfriend now. Expertly, he kept a straight face. “Well, then, you first,” said Dazai expressionlessly.
“ ‘My subordinates laze around all day waiting for orders and never take the initiative. What can I do to make them into excellent, autonomous subordinates?’ ” asked Fyodor.
Dazai thought for a moment before replying. “If your subordinates believe lazing around is a bad thing, they’ll start to put in effort of their own.”
Fyodor hit his palm with his fist in exclamation. “I see~!”
“I’ll go next,” said Dazai. “ ‘I fear my girlfriend is upset with me for getting locked up. How should I ensure her affections remain constant?’ ”
“…” Fyodor minutely narrowed his eyes. He despised how Dazai was in a relationship with his angel. However, he was not less adept than Dazai at hiding emotions. “Well, if you lock her up with you and make her friends abandon her, she’ll only have you to care for.”
“I see,” said Dazai measuredly. He didn’t plan to take that advice at all, but then again, Fyodor wasn’t going to take his. The words still struck a chord with Dazai because he remembered the overflowing relief in (Y/N)’s eyes when he lifted the blindfold from her eyes and freed her from Fyodor’s grasp. To hear even the mere allusion to Fyodor wanting to kidnap her again angered Dazai greatly.
The pair quieted and watched each other carefully. They were acting friendly, but anyone watching could sense that they were circling one another and deciding how to attack.
“Next, why don’t we ask a question at the same time?” proposed Fyodor.
“Sounds good,” said Dazai. He smirked determinedly. “Tell me…”
Fyodor smirked condescendingly. “I’d like to know…”
“How you’re contacting the people outside.” They spoke the words perfectly in tandem.
Fyodor smiled and relaxed. “Of course, that would be it.”
“Naturally,” said Dazai. “If I can find out how my opponent sends messages first, I could ask my comrades outside to cut off that line of communication. In other words, I’d win.”
“You won’t figure out how I’m relaying messages,” said Fyodor calmly.
“Oh, yes, I will,” countered Dazai. He smiled confidently. “That’s why I came here.”
In another world where neither had to go through everything they did, perhaps Akira and Yosano could have worked out. But they'll always be close, no matter the circumstances.
#there's a will; there's a way#dazai osamu x reader#bsd dazai#dazai bsd#dazai x reader#dazai#bsd osamu dazai#osamu dazai x reader#osamu dazai#dazai osamu#x reader#chuuya#chuuya nakahara x oc#chuuya x oc#bsd chuuya#chuuya nakahara#bsd oc#bsd fanfic#bsd fic#bsd#bsd season 4#bsd season four#bsd s4#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs oc#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs
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I put a spell on you (and now you're mine) Chapter 8: Okay, a baby should not be able to look that angry
It’s morning again. Somehow. It’s morning again and Tommy is lying in a freshly built crib, wood painted a light blue. It’s morning again and he wished it wasn’t.
‘I just want to go home. Even if Schlatt’s there.’ The last few days have been mentally exhausting, especially with his infant brain trying to comprehend his complex emotional states which have changed at the drop of a hat.
“Phil, I can’t look after a baby!” The sound of voices arguing back and forth is muffled by the padded floor but can just be made out by the babe’s hyper aware senses.
‘Waking up in unfamiliar places has got to stop.’
Shakily flipping onto his stomach, he listens closer to the argument. Both men involved sound irked, although one sounds distinctly more upset at what the other has to say. “What am I supposed to do, when the voices inevitably see him as a threat?” A stammering voice begins to interject before cutting themselves off with a deep sigh, filled with exhaustion.
“It’s a few hours, Tech.” He sounds exasperated in his rebuttal, as though he knows it won’t have an impact. “A few hours, and you can call if anything happens.” They’re on the verge of begging now. Tommy can almost visualise the scene in the following quiet, Technoblade reluctantly accepting the proposition with a sour face as Phil subtly celebrates his win.
“When he wakes up he might be a bit fussy, just feed him and he should calm down.” Shuffling can be heard, probably Phil and Wilbur getting ready to leave, as well as stomping footsteps coming up the stairs. Two clicks follow, one from the front door and one from the door opposite the crib.
“Making me watch a baby, a literal child. I hate kids.” At the muttered words Tommy watches as a pale face peaks over the crib, pink hair falling into the baby’s face and tickling him, looking very uncomfortable. “Oh, you’re awake.”
There’s a moment where nothing more is said, tense silence encasing the two as they stare at one another, studying and analysing what they can find. The tension reaches its peak as Techno reaches one of his scarred hands into the crib, making the babe back away as far as his chubby neck will allow him - which really isn’t that far. “Well, that’s just rude.” He advanced further and curled his fingers around a lock of Tommy’s golden curls, before letting it drop and grabbing the baby by his armpits. Said baby began to squirm, hoping it would deter the mountain of a man.
“If I drop you, I will not be picking you up.” Immediately, the squirming stops and a calm babe seems to replace the once restless one. Seeing how he had settled, Technoblade situates the small child awkwardly against his chest and begins to navigate towards the staircase. It’s the first time Tommy has been able to see the hallway in daylight with no obstructions, and it seems homely, a little lived in due to the scratches and dents in the walls.
As the pink haired man begins to descend the stairs he feels a set of eyes on him, and so turns his neck downwards, becoming startled at the icy glare being sent his way.
‘Yeah, that’s right bastard, I'm looking at you.’ Tommy’s glare intensifies with his thoughts, harsh against his soft features.
“Okay, a baby should not be able to look that angry.” The older man mutters to himself as he turns into the kitchen, lowering the child into his high chair and buckling the straps. He stops as he straightens his back, hands lowering to his hips as he stares down at Theseus. “What am I supposed to feed you? I don’t think we have any baby food…” He trails off as he turns to glance at the cupboards and draws around the kitchen, although not making a move to open any.
The slamming of tiny fists against plastic is what makes him spin around again, only to see the baby clearly expressing his frustration via destruction. ‘I’m fucking hungry man, come on. I’ve never had to wait this long - even back at the diner!’ As he raises his chubby fist once more, it’s grabbed on the downward swing and abruptly turned into his own mouth. In turn his baby brain tells his nervous system to chew on the offending limb.
“Why can’t you just be well behaved?” After a particularly long huff, he pulls a rough hand down his face in exasperation, pinching into the corners of his eyes as his nose scrunches. He gives himself a few seconds to collect himself, tuning many voices with no discernable origins back out, using a technique he developed many years ago.
‘Well, excuse me for being a helpless baby that was also kidnapped . I’ll try to be a better victim next time.’ A few moments pass and the man is still strained, eyes shut tight and fingers gripping the top of his nose. Tommy notices this, along with his nostrils flaring in a non-discernable pattern, and becomes uncharacteristically concerned.
'Uh… are you ok?’ He hesitantly reaches a short, chubby arm out towards the mountain of a man’s shoulder, however with his lack of bodily control ends up slapping it - as hard as an uncoordinated slap from a baby can be. Instantaneously, his tiny hand is shoved off and Technoblade spins with a fierce glare and frown set upon his face.
Upon seeing the baby blues in front of him his gaze softens the slightest bit, before his walls rebuild themselves and his glare returns even stronger than before. He hasn’t even registered the fact he hears no voice but his own, for the first time in years . “Don’t touch me.” Tommy’s spine turns to ice as his arm snaps back into his chest, before looking elsewhere.
He turns to the cupboards and shelves behind him, dismissing the child and pulling open a random cupboard - which turns out houses the plates and bowls - before slamming it closed in frustration. He huffs, opening the one next to it and pulling out a box of ready made oatmeal which he places gently on the counter.
Sparks of golden magic flow from the tips of his fingers into the air, twirling and pulling along a pot and the kettle (boiled and ready). The pot is gracefully placed upon the hob, whilst the kettle is tilted by the golden sparks to allow boiling water to flow down into the pot.
Meanwhile, Tommy is back to chewing his fingers with his gums, drool spilling onto the tray in front of him. He is completely zoned out, not even noticing when a child’s portion of oatmeal is placed on said tray, followed by a spoon held in front of his mouth.
“Come on kid, I haven’t got all day.” Getting impatient, he pushes the spoon into the babe’s mouth, pulling it back and scraping it against his bottom lip to catch the spillage. The motions repeat for a few more minutes until Tommy notices a significant change to his own temperature, feeling it rise gradually to a spike, sweat dripping down his small forehead. When offered another spoonful he turns his head, rejecting it as the sickly feeling inside of him rears its head.
“What now? Are you full?” Annoyance seeps through the man’s words as he tries and fails to feed the infant again and again. As he tries to turn the baby’s head he feels his fingers become wet with sweat and becomes confused, as well as slightly concerned. Turning his hand so his palm faces him, he places it upon Theseus’ forehead, yanking it away at the heat emitting from it.
“What the…” He trails off, taking a closer look at the sweaty boy, flushed with a scrunched face and misty eyes, holding unshed tears. “Uhhhh…” After a brief pause he lifts Tommy by his armpits again and rushes up the stairs into his own bedroom, before walking into a corner and disappearing into his altar room. A spacious room, much more stable than Schlatt’s had been, littered in gold jewelleries and fineries. Jewels hang from the ceiling that hit the light just right for an iridescent cast to blanket the room.
He lowers Tommy onto the small desk in the middle of the room, stuffing a blanket on either side of him so he doesn’t roll off, and summons his magic to pull various books from shelves and scatter them around the floor. He hesitates before also using it to open a drawer and carry vials of varying colours towards the desk, many hanging in the air awaiting use.
Tommy is delirious by now, unable to comprehend where he is or who he’s with, nevermind what is happening to him - no matter how familiar the experience is. The room is spinning and nothing can stop it. Techno is only becoming more worried with every passing second that the babe’s temperature increases, frantically flipping pages and inspecting potion descriptions at the speed of light before throwing the useless ones away.
A piercing wail echoes off of the walls, causing the pink haired man to turn all his attention back to the baby, who is now rolling around trying to move onto his back. Seeing the struggle he turns the babe over to try and offer the comfort he is clearly searching for, keeping his head turned to the side and rubbing his back soothingly.
“Please, I don’t know what’s wrong!” In order to try and reduce the heat coming from the babe he removes the top half of his onesie, spotting bruising along his shoulder blades towards the middle of his back. “Wait…” Before he can ponder any further another cry sounds from the infant, followed by a squirming shape beneath his skin, bulging and beginning to take form. Techno’s eyes follow the shape as it writhes, before breaking skin.
Blood streams down from the incision steadily as white emerges from the cut, forming feathers as they reach out. The second shape bursts free, splattering red over the blankets and the man’s face. He reaches up to wipe away the blood and when his hand comes away, his sights are set on bright white wings , caked in blood and yet still beautiful and shimmering with the light.
His hands come up shakily in awe, gently lowering to stroke just the tips of the smallest feathers, before reaching around and turning Tommy over. The babe is crashed out, snores echoing throughout the house with the exhaustion within him, and he doesn’t stir - even when Techno cradles him close to his chest, with his heart beating a mile a minute. He slowly slumps to the floor, back leaning against the desk behind him as he exhales a shaky breath, holding the infant close as if to protect him from non-existent danger.
#tommyinnit#philza minecraft#technoblade#wilbur soot#dream smp#magic au#sbi au#sbi family dynamic#dark sbi#possessive behaviour#inspired by hocus pocus#found family
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Phone Guy Dave AU Fanfic: Saferoom
(Disclaimers: I know this is not my promised cursed fic, this is something else I whipped up because it was giving me trouble. This is the DSAF 3 bad route, and has spoilers as such. However in this AU Dave did not springlock Jack, thus Henry, although present, does not not have control of his mind. I’m writing Henry’s influence more as possession than manipulation like it really was. Characters may be OOC as I have no practice writing them.)
Dave had asked Jack to meet him in the Saferoom. He was worried about this to say the least, but hey, even IF Jack has been acting a little… off… lately did not mean there was something bad going on! Of course there wasn’t. How horrible of him to even SUSPECT his Old Sport of something malicious… towards him at least!
The large green rabbit sighed and started pacing uncomfortably. Jack was coming soon, wasn’t he? Did he not like Dave anymore? Would he not accept- no no. Things will all be fine. In fact! He should be punished for doubting Old Sport so much.
The rabbit walked over to the table in the Saferoom, laying his left hand out flat on it. He picked up a hammer laying on the table beside it, and brought it down roughly on his hand. Once… twice… three times. Driving the springlocks further into his hand. He’d done this before, plenty of times, and he’d do it again.
The door to the Saferoom swung open, and closed with a heavy slam due to it’s weight as the suspiciously orange skinned man entered the unpleasantly blood scented and mossy room.
Dave gasped, and dropped his hammer, he turned around to see Jack standing there. He’d never been too great at reading faces (same man, same). But he felt something was very wrong with his Old Sport. Something was troubling him… no. It was probably just in his head, like always. Jack was just uncomfortable in the Saferoom. He had died in one, after all!
“SPORTSY!” The rabbit greeted, it’s metallic face twisted into something like a smile.
“Oh shit wuddup Davey!” The orange man replied. See, nothing was wrong! “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
Dave’s expression changed to something more serious. “Ah well I…” he was finding this harder to say than he had expected. “I uhhh…”
“Just spit it out already.” ‘Jack’ says. It doesn’t quite sound like him. The rabbit whimpers.
“I just wanted to tell you… I… I… I love you, Sport, have since we met.” The rabbit says as quickly as he can, his eyes squeezed closed. That wasn’t so bad after all. He hears footsteps approaching.
He looks down at Jack, now right in front of him. His face is unreadable… that’s not necessarily bad… is it? He gives off the impression that he is fighting his own body.
Suddenly, Dave is kicked, stumbling back and hitting his head on the wall, driving the springlocks in further, before falling to the ground. In an instant Jack is on top of him. His knee on Dave’s chest, keeping him down with almost superhuman strength. He feels hands on his head, pulling and twisting.
“J-Jack?” He says questioningly. What is happening hasn’t even registered for him yet. As soon as he truly realizes the danger he’s in, at the hands of someone he loved no less, the gravity of the situation sets in, and he begins to thrash around in Jack’s grip, begging for his life.
Jack doesn’t stop.
Noticing there is no escaping this, nor much more for him to even live for besides his own fear of death, Dave goes limp. What was he to do now that the man he had waited 30 years to see was hurting him, for his confession no less. He truly didn’t have anything left.
Jack seems to regain his sanity as he looks down at the man. His expression and body language now embodying that of a real rabbit caught in a trap, lacking the energy to even attempt to preserve its own life. He jolted, and seemed to leap off Dave, who still did not move.
“Dave…?” He said questioningly, shaking the man slightly. Nothing happened. He caught a glimpse of his eyes through the mask, they appeared far more dead than usual, and quite consumed by despair.
Jack stands up, backing away. Dave, seeming to have noticed his disappearance, sits up. Jack let’s out a sigh of relief and the rabbit looks at him, his face twisted in misery.
“Jack… I’m sorry…” he says, hanging his head.
Jack backs away further, until he feels the doorknob. He knows the Saferoom locks from the outside, and gets an idea. He swings the door open and leaves, locking it behind him.
Dave’s eyes widen when he hears the door lock. As if snapped out of his trance, he runs to the door and starts pounding on it. He’s being locked away. He’s never going to be let out. He wants out. The Saferoom seemed to get smaller, impossibly so, feeling as if he couldn’t take 2 steps before hitting a wall. His breathing sped up as he thought of spending another 30 years in here.
Too much had happened, part of him wished he died in the Fazbender Frights fire. Jack didn’t love him. Jack had hurt him. And now Jack had locked him away.
The world was spinning. He looked at his hand. No. This wasn’t his hand. Not his hand. It was the hand of the suit he was trapped in. He wanted it off. Now.
Maybe he could try to get Jack to come back? Maybe then Jack could get it off, and he could see his real hands again? No that wouldn’t work. Maybe… maybe he could get himself sent to the factory somehow? That would be for the best. They’d get him out of the suit, and erase his memory so he didn’t ever have to think of himself again. He’d be willing to become Scott if it meant forgetting today. Now that he thinks of it, there’s a lot he’d like to forget. Maybe he should have simply let himself be taken to the factory all those years ago?
Maybe if he got turned into a phone guy, Jack could take him back to his restaurant? Maybe he could remember who he was someday, and Jack wouldn’t hate him anymore because he’d be useful and have a new personality to fall back on. It was wishful thinking.
He’d be willing to change who he was if Jack wanted him to.
That wasn’t good, was it, that he’d be willing to undergo the process of becoming a phone guy, possibly to never remember who he was, all because he wanted to make Jack happy. That wasn’t healthy. Some part of him knew that.
He heard a note slide under the door and fell immediately to his hands and knees to read it.
“Dave I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you too.
There’s someone in my head trying to control me. He took over when we killed that baby, and he was what tried to kill you. I’ve locked you in the Saferoom for your own safety, and given my key to my phone guy, he wasn’t happy about it but was willing to obey my command and not give it to me if I’m acting like someone else. You’ll be safe in there. I’ll take care of you. I’ve slid some paper and a pen in here with this note, tell me if you want anything.”
Dave sighs in relief. Jack doesn’t hate him… right? He’s just trying to protect him. The Saferoom is small and cramped but he’d be willing to stay forever if it were for Jack! He’d stay here until his body became one with the room itself, until he fused with the moss. He would hate it, but it’s a necessary sacrifice… right?
If he stays in this room, never to see the light of day again, it would make Jack happy, but he’d be miserable. However… what if he really does go through with asking to be turned into a phoney? He’d be able to leave the room, Jack would be even happier because he wouldn’t be so useless and smell like death, and when he remembered… he’d be happy… right?
It’s decided.
He takes the pen, and writes “can you send me to the factory? I want to be a phone guy.”
He slides his note under the door, hearing a slight gasp. He receives another note, the writing is more shakey.
“Why would you want that?”
Dave writes another note, this one saying “Sportsy I’m blind as a bat, rotting, and stuck in a rabbit suit. I’m sure you’d be able to remind me who I am, and having a phone for a head makes no difference to me.” It’s not exactly true, but he’s not lying either. Those are all good reasons to want this.
“What if I can’t remind you?”
“You can. I love you, remember? It shouldn’t be too hard for you to wake me up.” Part of him hoped it would be.
“I don’t know Dave, you’re not the first person I’ve sent to the factory. I don’t want you to end up like him.”
“The green fucker? I’ll be fine Sport! I won’t end up like him.”
“I just really don’t like the idea of doing this to you.”
“Doing what? You won’t be doing anything out of the ordinary. Just dropping off a springlocked employee.”
“Please don’t make me do this.”
“Jack I need this. I haven’t been able to see your face. I’m starting to forget it. Plus my springlocks hurt and I just want to see my real hands again.”
There’s a long pause before Dave gets another note.
“Ok. But if you change your mind at any point, please tell me.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
.
.
.
Jack opens the shipping container with a crowbar. Everything is sent to him in one of these. He hates it, he never knows what is in it. It’s been a month since he… well… since his last trip to the factory. He remembers what he saw that day… watching him be taken away, possibly to never return.
He gasps as he sees the contents of the container, a phone guy curled up in the fetal position. The phone guy looks up at him. The phone is purple, as is the skin of the phone guy, appearing slightly decomposed.
“Hello…? Hello? Hello?” The phone guy says, his voice no different from all the others. Jack wants to slam the box shut, forget what he’s seen, and pretend Dave is fully dead. That he’s moved on. That he didn’t listen to him in a moment of weakness and send him to get his head replaced with a chunk of plastic.
Instead of closing the box, he reaches out to the phone guy… no. To Dave. This is his mistake. He let Henry take control. He let Dave get hurt. And he let him become a phone guy.
This was because of his actions.
From now on, he’s going to run a normal business with Dave, and he’s going to help him remember who he is. Dave had waited 30 years for him. It’s only fair that he would be willing to do the same.
(Note: and thus begins the Phone Guy Dave AU! I might do more with this, it’s really interesting and angsty as fuck. I’ve seen lots of Phone Guy Jack, but never Phone Guy Dave in anything but a swap AU. DSAF is not at all going to be my main thing, this is always going to be a side project for me. But yea. Here is the first Ouija patented Phone Guy Dave fic! :D)
#dsaf#dsaf phone guy#dsaf jack#dsaf dave#dsaf davetrap#dsaf fanfic#dsaf old sport#dsaf henry#Angst with an angsty ending#davesport#here it is#Ouija does DSAF rationals#Weird original content about Sapphic monster girls#And of course#angsty as fuck fanfics about Dave Miller from DSAF becoming a phone guy and Jack blaming himself for it#Because no one can have nice things#Not while I exist
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Fazbear Frights #11: Facing Facts
...After months of unemployment, Samuel is hired for a new, decent job, although some of the conditions are a bit uncomfortable…
How?
How could something so painful not kill him?
He stared into the darkness, praying for death.
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“And remember, the rumors surrounding our establishments are just that- rumors. We here at Fazbear Entertainment pride ourselves on our advanced animatronics and delicious pizza, but we also have top-tier safety measures in place. Rest assured, families and employees alike are in good hands. Now, it’s time to begin your journey as part of the Fazbear Family!”
The screen faded to static and the tape ejected from the VCR. Samuel sighed with relief.
The man interviewing him returned to the room. “So, uh, what did you think of the training tape?”
“It was...fine, I guess.” Samuel responded blandly. Truth be told, it had been the most boring half hour of life, but the guy had been bragging about him being the editor, so honesty may not be the best policy in this case. “Say, what’s your name again? I was so swept away by the video that I forgot.”
“Oh, thank you! Graphic design is my passion. My name’s Alex, Alex Gramble. And now that that’s done with, it’s time for your first day as a Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza employee!”
“Hooray.” Samuel said dejectedly.
Alex smiled. “Listen, this is a small town, and news travels fast. I know why you had to come out here, and I figure that wasn’t your plan. But chin up! This job is full of opportunities.”
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“This is a dead-end career.” Samuel lamented that evening over dinner. “It won’t get me anywhere.”
“Well, Sammy, I've told you you don’t have to stay.” Grandpa Harry reminded him. “I’ve lived a long, happy life. I don’t want you to give up everything to keep an eye on me.”
Samuel felt a wave of guilt wash over him. “No, Grandpa, I didn’t mean it like that. Even if no...critical events happen..you still need someone taking care of you. You were an incredible father to my dad, and an incredible grandfather to me. This is the least I could do. Besides, I needed a job anyway. Maybe it was time I settled for something more realistic.”
“Well, Freddy’s does have those fancy new robots, right?” Grandpa Harry added, poking at his peas. “You’ve always wanted to work with stuff like that.”
“I don’t get to lay a finger on those.” Samuel rubbed his temples. “They think I’m too inexperienced. For now, they’re just having me harvest parts from the old animatronics.”
“Those things are still there? I saw ‘em once, they gave me the willies.”
Samuel sipped some water, a bit nervous. “Trust me, now, they’re much worse.”
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He wasn’t exaggerating.
Freddy’s jaw had been pulled loose, making his once cheery grin much more sinister. Holes in his plush suit indicated the removal of parts. Foxy’s legs had been completely stripped, leaving nothing but exposed, oily metal rods. Chica was probably the worst of them, though. Her beak had been forced open, exposing her toothy endoskeleton, and her hands had been ripped off, leaving dirty wires to trail out her stiff arms.
Samuel spent hours in this room, alone with these...things, occasionally called to remove a part. With every piece removed, they only got more disturbing.
His walkie-talkie buzzed. Samuel sighed, then answered. “Hello?”
Alex’s voice came over the radio. “Hey, Sam. So, Balloon Boy’s eyes are malfunctioning. They keep rolling back into his head. We think there’s something wrong with the sockets. Could you open Bonnie’s faceplate and take out his eyes for replacements?”
“Faceplate?” Samuel inquired.
“It’s a feature unique to him. There’s a button located on his neck. Pressing it should cause his face to retract into his head. Easy access to all that stuff, y’know.”
Samuel was impressed. “Wow, whoever designed these animatronics must have been a genius.”
There was a pause. “Um...yeah. They were. Anyway, get those parts. And remember, take the animatronics apart gently.”
“You make it sound like I risk hurting them.”
“It’s just for safety.” The line went dead.
Samuel walked over to the Bonnie animatronic, slumped against the wall. While Chica was the outright creepiest of the gang, there was something about Bonnie that unnerved him. The only real damage was his arm, which had been ripped off for use in that plastic fox thing (A horrible use of good parts to be honest; that fox was poorly constructed, practically falling apart at the seams). Still, something about his blank stare was scary. Samuel would be glad to rid it of those eerie eyes.
He quickly located the button and pressed it. Nothing happened.
Samuel groaned. “We haven’t removed anything from that area. The wiring for that button should still be in place.”
He pressed it a few more times. Still nothing
Samuel began to get angry, and started trying to jimmy open the faceplate. “Come on, come on...stupid animatronics, I don’t want to waste the rest of my life here!”
His anger caused him to use a little more force than he meant to, and the faceplate ripped off. Samuel fell backwards, gripping it in his hands. There was the sound of wires ripping and metal scraping. Samuel hit the checkered floor, his head banging on the hard linoleum. He struggled to push himself up, dizzy from the collison.
“Oh, geez.” Samuel muttered, gazing at the plate. It was cracked down the middle, not to mention the damage around the edges from when it was first ripped out.
“Well, probably not a big deal.” Samuel reasoned, setting the part aside, on a small workbench next to Chica. “These things are being scrapped anyway.”
He quickly got to work removing the eye sockets.
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He couldn’t taste anything.
That may not sound that strange. He wasn’t eating a meal or chewing gum after all, so why would he?
The thing is, while they pale in contrast to that of food, there are always flavors that we detect. From the salty taste of phlegmy spit, to even the subtle bitterness of our own breath.
He had none of that. It was like a bizarre, mouth-centric sensory deprivation chamber. Of course, most of his other senses were being overstimulated due to how much pain he was in, so it took him a while to notice- a few hours in, at least. But it didn’t take too much muddled, bloodied thought to understand why.
After all, his tongue was halfway across the room.
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Have a great day, Sammy!- Grandpa Harry.
Samuel smiled softly at the note. Grandpa seemed to have stuffed it into his toolbox, a kind little gesture from a man who’d spent his whole life making them. It was far better encouragement than the sticker Alex had given him for the box- a picture of that bright blue rabbit with exaggerated eyelashes, with the words You’re A Rockstar! written around it.
Still, he was starting to warm up to this place, at least a little. Alex, while a bit irritating, was a kind boss, and it wasn’t too stressful around here- after all, the restaurant wasn’t open yet. He’d even brought a book today, knowing he’d have some free time.
Whistling, he headed to his back room, and gently pushed open the door.
He wasn’t prepared for what he saw.
Alex had mentioned that the old animatronics might move around during the night because of minor glitches, but the door would guarantee none made it out as long as it was locked. Samuel had seen some evidence of this- their arms changing position, their heads being turned a different way, even Foxy having moved a few feet to the left once- but not like this. Bonnie was on his knees, and he held an old soldering iron in his only hand. It was frozen, held right up to his head. Said head was pressed against a wall, keeping Bonnie’s faceplate in place.
Samuel was stunned. “Did- did that thing...try to repair itself?” he stuttered. “No, no, there’s no way. Something that advanced just isn’t possible.”
After removing the sockets, all that had remained of Bonnie’s eyes were two small, reddish lights. Those seemed to stare at Samuel now, almost angrily.
Samuel walked towards it, and gently pulled the plate out of its grasp. He didn’t know why- maybe just to see if the robot would snatch it back. Nothing happened.
Samuel tucked the faceplate under Fredddy’s torso, hoping to keep it out of Bonnie’s sights.
With that done, Samuel pulled over a stool, and sat down to read. He watched Bonnie out of the corner of his eye, daring him to move.
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“So, how was work today?” Grandpa Harry asked as Samuel walked into the room.
“Eh, it was...fine.” Samuel said, trying not to speak over Grandpa’s shows. He tapped his shoulder. “Hey, Grandpa, I wanted to ask you about...the incident that occurred with the animatronics last year.”
Grandpa Harry froze, then slowly grabbed the remote and paused the show. “Uh, why do you want to know about that?”
“I’ve heard some other employees whispering about it. I didn’t really care at first, but working with the animatronics...it’s just, they have some odd behaviors. I know the company tried to keep it quiet, but you live in Hurricane. Surely you heard something?”
Still staring blankly at the paused TV, Grandpa began to explain. “It was a young man named Walter, just over twenty I believe. Wanted to spend some time away from the big city, and moved out here for the summer. He was such a kind boy- volunteered at the local soup kitchen, polite to everyone- even gifted me some books he’d finished reading. But that doesn’t pay the bills, so he took a job as a night-shift Security Guard at Freddy’s. Two nights went by with little incident- then on the third night, something happened, and he never came home.”
Sniffling, Grandpa Harry grabbed a tissue from the side table and dried his eyes. “Such a kind boy…”
Unnerved, Samuel prodded further. “But do you know what happened to him? Like, did they find his...y’know…”
“They found his body, but the details are ‘classified’.” Grandpa Harry said bitterly. “Fazbear Entertainment putting money in the right mouths to keep them shut, yeah? But two things are very clear: those damned moldy old robots were responsible, and their handiwork wasn’t pretty. I’m glad they’re being scattered and scrapped. They won’t hurt anyone else, right, Sammy?”
“Right.” Samuel said, clearly not confident in his answer. Grandpa didn’t pick up on that, though. He unpaused the TV, and relaxed back into his chair.
Samuel quietly left the room.
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He hoped the thing suffered.
Yes, this thing- this metal abomination- would be broken apart, split into pieces. If this thing was capable of hatred, it should be capable of pain. But he wanted more.
He wanted his blood, dripping into the machine, to cause all the circuits to malfunction. No part of the robot would ever work again. It would be smashed, crushed, and forgotten forever- made to suffer, like he was suffering now.
When would he be free?
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“See you tomorrow, Samuel. Um, be careful, and like I said, stay away from the animatronics.” Alex reminded him as he put on his coat.
“Right.” Samuel muttered in response. He’d been given a night shift, since there’d been reports of vandals in the area. After hearing Grandpa Harry’s story, he’d been resistant to the idea, but Management had promised him extra pay, so he relented. And, anyway, the dangerous animatronics were behind the door, so he was safe, right?
He hardly felt so within an hour. The sounds of whirring gears, electrical sparks, and clamping jaws began to resound from within. Samuel tried to ignore them, continuing to search the street in front for delinquents.
Eventually, everything quieted, as if the robots had only woken briefly from their slumber to check if the door was locked. But a few minutes later, there came a new noise- the louder, heavy thudding of metallic feet.
Samuel turned hesitantly, looking down the hall to that foreboding metal door. “It’s just a glitch.” He reminded himself with little confidence. “It’s not...fixing itself.”
His actions showed his doubt, though. Earlier he’d been sure to remove the soldering iron from the room. Bonnie wouldn’t lay an animatronic finger on it.
Clearly, that wasn’t enough. Banging began to resound from the room- like metal hitting concrete. The thing seemed to be trying to hammer its face back on with the wall.
Unlike the others, this sound didn’t stop quickly. It went on for at least ten minutes. Samuel almost felt bad for it- it was just trying to fix itself, right?
And yet, he remembered Grandpa Harry’s story again. These robotic abominations had cut a good man’s life short. They deserved whatever pain they were going through. There was nothing good in them.
Finally, Samuel had had enough. He abandoned his post, getting up to storm down the dark hall. Taking the key out of his pocket, he shoved it into the lock and turned firmly, pushing at the same time. The door flew open and hit the adjacent wall with a THUNK!
Sure enough, Bonnie stood nearby, looking pretty surprised that someone was stupid enough to barge in there. He backed away, moving into a position to leap at Samuel, but dropped the faceplate in the process. Samuel quickly snatched it out of the air as it fell, and slammed the door in the things lack-of-face.
It shrieked, banging against the solid metal slab as Samuel quickly locked it again. He looked at the fuzzy purple thing in his hand, and noticed something- a small, bloody stain just below its left eyehole.
Samuel narrowed his eyes and walked away, as Bonnie continued to rage behind him. He ran into the kitchen, turned on one of the ovens, and tossed the faceplate inside.
The faux fur quickly caught flame, and the rest of the piece quickly followed. All the while, Bonnie was screaming louder, banging harder against the door-
The faceplate was completely engulfed in fire, and Bonnie fell silent.
Samuel turned nervously as he shut off the oven. Hesitantly, he returned to the door and knocked, eliciting no response.
“Uh, Bonnie?” Samuel called out. The silence was far worse than any mechanical scream or furious banging.
He put the key back in and opened the door slowly. Peeking inside, he saw all the animatronics were still in their proper places, but Bonnie was nowhere to be seen.
From his left, Samuel heard mechanical shifting. He tried to pull back, but it was too late.
A rough, bare animatronic hand grabbed him by the face. He felt the sharp metallic parts scratching his nose. Bonnie’s finger jabbed him in the eye. He screamed with pain, hoping someone would hear and come and to help him, unlikely as that was.
The robot’s grip grew tighter, its claws beginning to break through the skin. It slammed him against the wall, putting its weight against his body, and pulled on his face.
It used more strength than any cheap pizzeria animatronic should have. From inside his own head, Samuel could hear bone cracking, blood rushing, and tissue snapping. Finally, with one horrible CRUNCH, his skull was ripped loose from his head.
Samuel should have died at that moment- but he didn’t. His mind, his soul- remained trapped in his skull. He watched his body fall down limply, his jaw hanging loosely as blood cascaded down his neck.
He looked up at Bonnie, holding his head in its hand. Bonnie tilted his own faceless head, studying the mess of bone and flesh he held.
After a moment, it slammed the skull into its empty head. Samuel felt sharp crossbeams penetrate his brain, and screamed with agony- or tried at least, lacking a mouth and all.
Seemingly satisfied with the replacement, the robot collapsed against the wall again, forcing Samuel to stare at his own mutilated form several feet away.
How long would it keep him alive?
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Several hours passed, every moment of them agonizing. Samuel’s soul, trapped with his disembodied head, begged- to Bonnie or a higher power, he wasn’t quite sure- to put an end to his suffering.
It did eventually.
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Harry sat on his porch in a rocking chair, slowly swinging back and forth as he sipped a cup of tea. This was how he’d spent all his mornings since he retired- here in his house on the outskirts of town, watching the sun rise.
It had been better when his love Margaret was still around though. She’d passed on a decade ago, leaving Harry all alone. His family visited, of course, but his house was empty most of the time.
Samuel was a blessing. One he felt guilty for having- Samuel had a life of his own to lead, after all. Still, Harry had felt more alive in the week Sammy had been here than he had for years.
He frowned, and checked his watch. 6:57 AM. Samuel had promised he’d be back no later than 6:45. Was the traffic in town that bad?
“Oh, well.” Harry chuckled. “I’m old, I’ve got nothing better to do but wait.” He gazed out the road, hoping to see Sammy’s car driving towards him any second.
He waited for quite a while.
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Starlight Elegy - Chapter 3
The thief
“I saw you in my dreams, many times. I knew you before you even existed.” I was shocked by this revelation. So I wasn’t the only one? There was really something going on between us? Something that did not bring me to them, but to him specifically? But how? Why? Everything was so confusing in my mind.
“So you knew from the beginning that there was something between us? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I tried to ignore it at first. I didn’t know you, and didn’t want to influence your feelings. But ignoring the truth only made it more present, it was stuck in my head and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And about your feelings, considering how comfortable you are with me, I suppose it’s too late to say “don’t try to get close to me”, right?”
“Even without knowing that, you didn’t really help me not getting closer. Everyone told me at first that you were often cold and rude and to be careful not to anger you but from the beginning you’ve always been kind to me. I mean maybe not the very first time but you know what I mean. I wouldn’t say that you’re the opposite of what they told me, but not the exact same either.” I explained calmly, trying to ignore my own feelings.
“I just…Can’t bring myself to be like that with you. Because of these dreams I had.” He frowned, and suddenly he didn’t seem as stoic as before.
“And do you know what all of this means?”
“I have absolutely no idea. Maybe it’s just a coincidence. We should forget about it.” He started walking faster, as if to avoid the conversation. Did he really mean that? How could I ever forget about something like this? I walked faster too to catch him, and noticed he seemed to be uncomfortable. I decided not to say more, not wanting to make things worse, but still confused at the sudden mood change. I kept following him, and we ended up at the spaceship, where the other crew members were already waiting for us.
“We’ve been waiting for you guys! Were you lost? Or too busy flirting?” Said Helios, chuckling, Mars staring at us with a large smile behind them, and Asteroid sighing.
“I just took my time in the shop. We also got Nyx some stuff.” Ganymede replied quick, completely ignoring their remarks about us. And I was really glad he did that before I got embarrassed.
“Sure man, whatever you say. Anyway, Nyx, we got your registration done so you’re officially a member of our crew! To celebrate, let’s all go to a restaurant! There will be plenty of these on our way back.” We all went to the spaceship again and got ready to go. Ganymede stayed alone in his room, probably working with his new stuff and refused my help. So I stayed with the others.
“So, Nyx, tell us about your life on Earth!” It was Helios again, always curious about everything. I liked that about them. And they made talking easy, even for me.
“Oh, well, there’s not much to say. I’ve never been able to go for a spatial career so I was just trying to survive I guess, going from jobs to other jobs because I have never found something I was really interested in.” I knew this wasn’t the most interesting life. But what could I say? It was how mine was back on Earth.
“But what about your personal life? What do you like outside of space and writing? How were you before meeting us? I’m curious!” Forgot what I said, talking wasn’t always easy, even with them. I hated talking about myself, but I guess these guys wanted to get to know me, as we were going to spend a lot of time together.
“I don’t really like many things besides space…maybe video games and mythologies. Animals too. I enjoyed their presence more than humans because humans always deceived me. I guess I was used to being on my own and never really had friends either.” I explained, trying to keep a neutral expression.
“Oh man, what happened for you to think that?” Mars asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t…really want to talk about it.” I didn’t want to, I really did not. I knew it would make me feel awful, and I couldn’t be like this in front of them. I wasn’t even sure they would understand, they all seemed to be pretty comfortable around others.
“Are you sure? We can make you feel better!”
“Dude, they said they don’t wanna talk about it, leave them alone.” It was Ganymede, and for some reason, he seemed irritated. He crossed his arms and frowned. “They love to talk, too much. But don’t let them invade your space. Tell me if they bother you again.” His mood seemed to have changed again, his tone was softer now, but still with some hint of anger? and it seemed like he was irritated by Mars’ and Helios’ questions, and not by me or our conversation like he was earlier.
“They weren’t bothering me…And I wouldn’t say something I don’t want to say anyway.”
“Good.” And he left. What was that? Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter. Mars spoke again.
“You mentioned you like animals from Earth right? Do you have a favorite?”
“Well, I love horses, birds, cats…” He cut me off.
“Cats? Oh yeah those creatures!! They’re funny!”
“Talking about cats, there’s a planet close to here, where all the species are cat-looking. There’s a good restaurant, also. We could go there?” Helios said, excitement in their voice. I replied, just as excited to see some alien cats.
“Sounds good!”
“Then let’s go darlings!”
The rest of the trip went calmly. We played card games while listening to music and even Ganymede joined us. We arrived at the restaurant, and it was full of cat-looking people. By the look on their faces, they were clearly used to the presence of other species on their planet. Which was a relief for me, scared of having the same treatment as earlier in the space shop. We sat and ordered. Of course, I had no idea what to choose, since I didn’t know any of these things. It was like eating in a different country, but the country was a whole planet in another galaxy.
“I recommend this. It’s similar to those creatures you call fish. I have a feeling you’d like it.” Asteroid said calmly, keeping his eyes on the menu as he spoke.
“I will try that then.” I smiled. The atmosphere here was great, literally. It was the same as on Earth, so I could breathe normally. Now that I was thinking about it, it was the same on Asteri Alpha, I didn’t wear my space suit and was able to breathe just fine. Maybe they had an artificial atmosphere or something after all.
We started eating and the fish was better than anything I’ve had on Earth. It was cooked with some plants and other things I couldn’t describe. But I looked away for a second to get some water and the fish disappeared. “Where is my food?”
“Look, over there, this little guy stole it.” Mars said while pointing at something that was running away. It looked like a kitten, but it had two tails, had bigger ears than Earth’s cats, and its fur was glowing white. It had a few black markings that contrasted with its bright fur, it was stunning. The little creature stopped to look at us and ran away, again. I stood up and ran after it.
“Wait, I’ll help you!!” Mars ran after me as I tried to catch the little fella. But it was fast, being able to levitate was also a big advantage. It ran into an empty, abandoned street to eat its food.
“Don’t move too fast. It’s a Floatten, they are very shy and often fear people because they are being rejected.” Mars explained, almost whispering. I imitated him.
“Why? I find it cute.”
“Their glowing fur makes them look like ghosts and they tend to appear near graveyards, so the people from this planet started to think they were spirits of dead people and that if you see one it means something bad is going to happen. And seeing many of them is a sign of the end of the world. So people avoid them.”
“I don’t believe in superstitions. An animal is an animal. And this one seems to be hungry.” I approached the creature slowly, and calmly talked to it.
“Hey little guy. I don’t want to scare you or hurt you. You seem to be hungry, so you can keep the fish, I hope you will enjoy it! I am sorry people are scared of you. They don’t know that you are more scared than them. Don’t blame them, sometimes people believe stupid things. Anyway, enjoy your meal!” The kitten looked at me the whole time, its eyes big, round and full of interest. Suddenly I had an idea.
“Mars? Can we keep it?”
“I doubt it will follow us. It’s a wild animal.”
“But look at it, it seems to be less scared and it doesn’t run away anymore.” I was genuinely concerned for this little guy and really wanted to help it. Also, it was probably one of the cutest things I have ever seen.
“Well, Floattens won’t follow someone they don’t trust. Let’s go back to the others and see if it follows you.” I smiled and we walked back to the restaurant where the others were probably waiting for us to return. And I noticed that the little floating creature was following us, keeping a safe distance between us.
“See? It's still there.”
“I suppose it likes you. Let’s see what the others think of this idea.”
“Wait a second.” I approached the cat and gave it my hand to let it sniff it. It did, and rubbed its head in my hand, like a cat from Earth would. I grabbed it and took it in my arms and it didn’t try to fight me. “Now I’m ready to go!”
We joined the others, apparently done with their meals.
“So you finally caught that little thief?” Asteroid spoke first, looking at the little guy in my arms.
“Yes and I would like to keep it, I promise it won’t bother any of you.”
“I don’t see a problem with it. But it’s Helios’ spaceship.”
“I don’t mind either but you’re the only one taking care of it. If there’s something to clean because of it, you’ll do it.” Helios said, clearly unbothered by the idea, which made me happy.
“Yes! Thank you so much!”
“What are you going to call it?” Asked Mars.
“Hmm…Let’s see…Is it a boy or a girl?”
“Floattens are genderless. So, do whatever you want with the name.” Asteroid explained. Genderless? I wished humans could take these creatures as an exemple. It sur would have made my life easier. I thought for a moment, then found something that suited it.
“Then…Orion!”
“Orion? Isn’t that the name humans gave to one of their constellations?”
“Yes! Its name comes from a hunter in Greek mythology, and this little guy is kind of a hunter itself!” I proudly explained, happy to be able to teach these guys something for once.
“I see, then that’s a good name.”
“Can we go now? I need to work.” Oh, Ganymede, who hasn’t talked since that “incident” in the spaceship, finally found his voice again. Everyone laughed, except him, of course.
“Yes, let’s go back to Earth!”
#starlight elegy#booklr#writerblr#small writer#original writing#original book#writers of tumblr#small artist#sci fi#science fiction#science fantasy#space#space opera#yes i finally posted it lol#had some personnal stuff happening pls forgive me#also currently working on chapter 11 hehe
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gift shop guy
steven grant x afab reader
synopsis: you go out with the guy from the museums gift shop
warning: 18+, p in v, fingering, bit of daddy kink, bit of name calling: slut, pet names, shy!reader, a bit dom/sub vibes, choking; i think that is it.
word count: 3.7 k
a/n: I never would've thought that this man would have such a chokehold on me. Also please excuse my punctuation it is and always will be my biggest enemy.
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You stand there at the exit and help your friend's children get off the bus.
"Sweeties, are you excited about our museum visit?"
Diane who was telling you all about her favorite dinosaur during the ride to the museum screams a happy "yes" and her brother gave you a nod, smiling happily as well.
"Well, I guess we should get in there then, shouldn't we?"
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After analysing every dinosaur skeleton with Diane you guys reach the area that shows all kinds of artefacts from ancient Egypt and find yourself in front of a so-called “sandstone hierakosphinx”. You begin to read the description to Diane and her brother when suddenly someone appears next to you.
"This sphinx was found in the temple of Ramses II and symbolizes royal power. Its head is that of a hawk and the body is that of a lion as you probably have noticed already, hawk-headed sphinxes are also called gryphon. Do you guys know a bit about ancient Egypt and Egyptian mythology?"
You look to your right, tilting your head a little confused, slowly answering.
"yes, we do a little bit."
The man continues his little speech.
"Then the head of this sphinx may remind you of the god Horus, son of Isis, who is most often depicted with a falcon head and a human body or as a falcon wearing a double crown. The Egyptian pharaohs were associated with him because, as you may know, they were considered the earthly embodiment of the god. Horus-"
As he begins another sentence a woman walks towards you two.
"Steven, the gift shop doesn‘t sell the products by itself. Go. Leave the poor woman and her kids alone."
Steven lets out an exasperated sigh and apologizes to you, he gives the kids a little smile. He is quite handsome you have to admit, he is tall, has broad shoulders, dark hair and brown eyes which sparkled a little as he talked to you guys just now. You watch him walk behind the counter where a few children have lined up.
"Auntie, can I get a plush animal?"
Peter asks running over to plush animals and already inspecting the Taweret plush.
"Me too, Auntie please!"
You laugh at the two.
"But only choose one, Sweeties, else your mother is going to kill me."
After both have chosen you walk over to Steven’s counter together and wait in the queue.
"It‘s cute isn‘t it, Auntie?"
Peter asks, petting the plush hippo's head. You nod smiling.
"Can you guess its name, Auntie? No, wait. I'm going to tell you. His name is Frank."
"Actually, her Name is Taweret."
You look from the plush hippo in Peter's hands up into the dark eyes of Steven.
"Oh, she is the goddess who protects our pregnant mommy! Right, Auntie? You told us about her!"
Diane exclaims excitedly.
"Someone knows their goddesses. Your Auntie taught you well."
You chuckle and put the plush animals on the counter for him to scan.
"You seem to know quite a lot about ancient Egypt, have you been working here for a long time?"
You ask curiously, putting your card on the reader.
"Oh right sorry about earlier, I tend to forget that most people aren’t as interested in all this as me, most people just want to enjoy the exhibit in peace."
Steven said, chuckling uncomfortably as he scratches his neck. Looks like he misunderstood your honest curiosity quite well.
"No that’s no-"
You catch yourself stuttering. After taking a deep breath you start the sentence again
"What I meant to say was that I honestly found it interesting. You don’t have to apologize."
You offer him another kind smile, still trying to regain your composure. How was that guy making you so nervous?
The kids take the plushies and are looking at you expectingly.
"I wish I would have had an Auntie as nice as you when I was younger. I wish you guys a nice day, have fun with plush Taweret and Horus!"
Steven chuckles slightly and smiles at the kids. He is really cute and even though it is maybe not the most appropriate thing to do while taking care of your friend’s children, you gather your courage, take out one of your business cards and hand it to him.
"Maybe you'd like to tell me a bit more about ancient Egypt some time on a different occasion, maybe with a coffee or glass of wine."
You smile and receive a dumbfounded look in return. You laugh and the kids wave him goodbye.
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You wake up to your phone ringing way too loudly and way too early in the morning.
"Hello?"
You answer with a hoarse voice. Steven is, like so many nights before, trying to stay awake and even though he intended to wait to call you so that he wouldn't seem too desperate, here he is now. After all, he is kind of desperate to talk to you. After such a long time a woman and especially a woman this beautiful is interested in him.
"Oi sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to wake you I- 4 am?! I didn't look at the time, I'm terribly sorry I'll just-"
"Steven? Is that you? It's okay, is everything good?"
You wonder a little as to why he would call at such a weird hour but you aren't complaining, you were really looking forward to getting a call from him, even though it is this early in the morning.
"Yeah, I just- I'm terribly sorry uhm."
Steven laughs uncomfortably.
"Would you like to go to a restaurant and maybe for a drink this weekend? O-or next? Whatever fits your schedule best."
You tell him that this Friday sounds good and that you're looking forward to it. You smile to yourself falling right back asleep.
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Friday evening came and it was a warm one so you wore your favorite sundress. As you cross the street you can already see Steven sitting outside of the restaurant with red roses and a pink heart-shaped box laying on the table. As soon as he sees you he smiles brightly and stands up from his seat, greeting you.
"Hi Steven, have you been waiting for long?"
"Not at all! Oh, right I have something for you! Almost forgot."
Steven takes the roses and the heart-shaped box of chocolate from the table to give it to you. You thank him and with a small giggle sit down at the table.
You both talk a lot about your lives. The evening is nice and refreshing, you haven't had such a nice date in years. Steven is such a sweet man and you actually feel safe in his presence, so you didn't think twice about his offer to go up to his apartment for drinks and to give you some of his books about Egyptian mythology.
His apartment is a bit messy but it looks interesting, especially the big fish tank in which just one goldfish swims. You walk directly towards it.
"It’s so cute! What's its name, Steven? Has it only one fin?"
"Oh, yeah that is my one finned friend Gus. He's a pretty sweet guy once you get to know him, even though he looks like a tough little lad at first."
You both laugh. While Steven searches for the books he wants to give you, you look around his apartment some more.
"You have such a nice apartment! It's so big and- you even have a record player!"
Steven turns and walks over to you putting the books he found next to the record player.
"I do. Would you like to listen to some music?"
You nod in response and he looks through his little vinyl collection.
"Here it is!"
You look at it with amusement.
"Engelbert Humperdinck? A Man Without Love?"
You laughed out loud. He lays his hand on his heart trying to act serious.
"Well, in my defense... it's a good album!”
Steven laughs now too and slowly turns the music up.
"Would you like to dance with me for a bit?"
He asks holding his left hand out for you, grinning. You look down, biting your cheek nervously. You put your right hand in his and lay the other on his shoulder as he lays his right hand on your back. You dance slowly through the room, holding each other. You enjoy the music and the closeness. He is so charming and as you look up into his eyes you see how much they are sparkling in the dim light, it makes you just oh so nervous.
After a while, you gather up your courage and take your hand out of his, to lay your arms around his neck. His left hand now joins his other and both slowly wander down to your hips, holding them softly. You bite your bottom lip subconsciously, feeling your face heat up as you see the sides of his lips rise slowly into a shy smile. You want to kiss him. You want to kiss him so so bad.
"Y/N, is it okay if I- if I kiss you?"
And that does it for you. You put your lips on his, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling. The kiss was soft and sweet. Steven is caressing your hips and stops the kiss to let you breathe as soon as he notices that you are out of air. You look into each other's eyes for some time until the song changes and Steven softly shakes his head to bring himself back to the present.
"Uhm come on, let me show you the books"
He takes your hand softly and leads you to the table. The two of you take a seat next to eachother.
"So this book gives a general overview of Egypt's history and their culture, this book goes into detail about Egyptian mythology, and last but not least, this book shows the parallels between the Egyptian deities and deities from other pantheons"
"Thank you, Steven. I've learned quite a bit tonight and thank you for the books and well actually the whole evening. I had a lot of fun."
You stack them on top of each other and shoot him a happy smile.
"I'm glad I finally met someone who shares my interest, as well as someone whose ear I can chew off with it."
He laughs, laying his hand on your thigh, caressing it softly.
You notice now just how close the two of you are again and feel your heart beat quicken, so much that you think that the man can hear it.
All of a sudden you feel his fingers on your chin, lifting your head. You look up through your lashes trying your best to regain at least a bit of composure, but you fail to do so as you see the look on his face.
His pupils have dilated, it looks like he has pitch black eyes. It feels like you are being bitten by thousands of ants as the tension between the two of you rises. You let out a shaky breath and then Steven finally makes a move.
The moment his soft lips are back on yours you stop holding yourself back. You slide onto his lap, put your arms around the man's neck, and deepen the kiss. Steven's hands slip down from your waist to your ass, carefully caressing it.
You are enjoying his touches and kisses when he squeezes a gasp out of you. He takes his chance to explore your mouth with his tongue. You let out a quiet moan, suddenly breaking the kiss by putting your hands over your mouth embarrassed at the sound you made seconds earlier. It's been such a long time since you've done something like this. Steven just looks at you with a smug grin
"It's fine, let me hear those sounds. Please. You sound really lovely."
He takes your hands slowly off your mouth.
"If you want to stop you can tell me any time, okay Y/N? Do you want to stop?"
You are a little overwhelmed at how kind he is, but get yourself to shake your head. You don't want to stop, it feels too good. He feels too good.
"S-sorry, just a bit nervous, I haven't done it in a bit, you know."
Steven looks a bit concerned now.
"You don't have to apologize, Sweetheart. If you want to stop or-or maybe continue a different day it is totally fine"
You violently shake your head.
"No. No, please I want to continue, I’m just nervous. Please... I want to continue"
You look at him with big eyes and his energy shifted back to what it was just a minute ago.
"As you wish, Sweetheart"
His lips were back on yours and your arms were back around his neck.
Steven guides you to his bed and takes off his shirt and pants, his defined body has you in awe. You don't notice your staring until Steven lets out a low chuckle.
"You like what you're seeing, hm? Come on Darling, take your cute little dress off."
You do as he says as fast as possible, leaving your underwear on and reconnecting your lips with his.
He helps you onto the bed and crawls on top of you, not stopping the heated and a bit clumsy kiss.
As one of his hands slowly travels from next to your head down to your breasts you feel his tongue entering your mouth again. You let out a whimper.
He takes off your bra and takes one of your nipples between his teeth, playinh with it, flicking it with his tongue and massaging the other breast with his hand.
You squirm a little and felt more and more soft whimpers leaving your mouth. These however slowly turned into moans as Steven kisses down to your core.
As he begins to leaves kisses on the inside of your thighs, all you want for him to do is finally touch you where you need him most.
"Steven... please..."
He grins.
"Darling, I can already see you leaking through your panties. I didn't think you would be such a naughty little girl..."
You let out a louder moan this time, feeling the wetness between your legs grow even more at his words.
Steven carefully took off your panties and throws them somewhere to the side. He looks at your glistening pussy, feeling his mouth begin to water.
He just stares at your core. He does nothing but stare... you can feel the slick wandering down your thighs, feeling so very exposed.
You notice that he seems so different from when you met him and when you were at the restaurant to now.
"Please, Steven."
You plead. You don't know for what exactly but you would be happy with anything he would give you right now. You just need him to do something.
And he does. Steven slides his fingers between your folds, gathering your slick with his finger, and inserts one, slowly moving it in and out.
After adding the second one you let out a long moan.
"Ooooooh gods, S-Steven please, I need you..."
You look at him with big eyes.
"What do you want me to do, Love? Tell me."
"Please. P-please don't tease me... just... just... I need you inside"
He lets out a groan.
"Gods, you're making me go bonkers."
Steven stands up and peels off the last piece of his clothing. His dick is so hard that it smacks against his lower abdomen.
You gulp. He is bigger than you expected, a lot bigger.
After putting on a condom he notices your concerned face and caresses your cheek.
"Don't worry, I'll be very careful, my Darling"
And he is. He is so very careful, reassuring you that everything is going to be fine every time your expression changes even if just a little.
"Good girl. You're such a good girl, taking me so well."
He is still caressing your cheek and kissing you sweetly as he bottoms out.
"You're doing so well, my Darling"
He says as you close your eyes to relax.
After you adjusted to his size you open your eyes back up and ask him to move.
He does, but keeps his slow and careful pace, still trying his best to not hurt you. He is handling you like a fragile little thing, as if you would break if he moves any faster.
In response you slowly begin to move your hips under him, needing to feel more. His cock is stretching you so well, you just can't hold back.
"Please, Stevie. Please. Please faster."
Your wish is his command. He begins to quicken his pace bit by bit, increasing the volume of your moans with it.
If you could think straight you would worry about his neighbors hearing you but your head is all fogged up right now. All you can think about is Steven, the way he ruts into you relentlessly, the way his thick cock fills you up perfectly, just Steven.
Even though his pace has increased you still need more. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms grab onto his shoulders. You're gripping so hard that you are probably going to leave scratch marks there.
"You're taking me so so well, my good girl. Whose good girl are you, hm? You're my good girl, right?"
You can’t concentrate, the only thing you are able to focus on is the pleasure you feel and the grunts that are leaving Steven's mouth.
His pace suddenly decreases and you start to whine at the missing friction.
"Please... Please..."
Is the only thing you are able to say, needing him to move again so badly.
"Tell me, sweethear, whose good girl are you, hm? Are you this cock drunk already that you can’t answer me anymore?"
You try your best to register his words.
"Y-yours? I-I'm your good girl. Your good girl, daddy."
You manage to choke out from your sore throat and begin to move your hips just to feel any friction again.
Steven looks at you a little surprised. He doesn't complain about the nickname but he was curious now. What else would he be able to get out of you?
Your movements are snapping him out of his thoughts. He grabs you by your waist and pins it down to the bed to stop your movements.
"No moving without my permission. Didn't think my sweet girl would be such a slut for me."
"D-daddy please, I-I'm sorry", you whine "I just need you to-"
He slaps your clit.
You let out a high-pitched moan.
He didn't know exactly where his bursts of confidence nor the sudden profanities come from but he doesn't care, seeing that it clearly works on you.
"D-daddy please, I need you to. I-It hurts so much."
You look at him with watery eyes. You just needed him to move, just a bit.
"Please. Please. Please. Please."
You are reciting the pleas like a prayer, waiting to finally be answered.
As if the gods have heard you, Steven continues his movements, his thrusts are harder, deeper this time.
You are back to moaning again, babbling nonsense as his speed and strength increase even more. Feeling the knot in your stomach tighten you clench down on his cock.
"No cumming yet, baby. Wait for me, okay? Wait for daddy's permission."
You nod completely out of breath.
Steven forcefully grabs both your legs and puts them over his shoulders. The new angle has the both of you seeing stars. You can hear a few high-pitched moans escaping from his mouth as well.
"D-daddy. Daddy can't any l-longer."
You try your best to hold your orgasm in but it was getting harder and harder by the second.
Steven's hand snakes around your throat and a few thrusts later he finally gives you his permission.
"You can come now."
And you come with a quiet scream. You throw your head back, seeing flashes of light appear in front of your eyes. Your whole body was shaking and twitching.
Steven comes a few thrusts later, riding his orgasm out.
He lies down right next to you, both still panting trying to regain your breaths.
Steven is the first to move. He throws the condom away, lies back down, and wraps his arms around you. He pulls you closer, smiling brightly.
You smile to yourself as well.
"Thank you."
He kisses your neck carefully and lays his head on your shoulder.
"I'm sorry if I was too harsh, I hope I didn't scare you..."
"N-no need to be sorry, I had a lot of fun, even though I am still a bit surprised about the sudden change of character. It was just really unexpected."
You let out a soft laugh.
"Yeah for me too... Would you… would you maybe like to do that again? Not today of course but soon? Another date I mean, not just the sex thing."
Steven asks, caressing your waist.
"Sorry was that too early, Sweetheart?"
"No, no it's perfectly fine. Of course, I would love to."
You turn around to him and kiss his swollen lips softly.
"Would you like to tell me a bit more about the Ennead now?"
"Gods, please marry me."
You both laugh and you cuddle up next to him, slowly drifting to sleep while listening to his calm voice.
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