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leth-writes · 1 month

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yandere Tim Drake x meta reader part two

summary: we find out more about what life is like now for the reader.

Warnings: The usual for my blog!

Tim had luminous green eyes. They were the most sickly green, almost glowing, you’d ever seen, pale and round and sunken into his skin like you could see the skull beneath his skin. It was like he was secretly a corspe walking around, without a soul. Sometimes you did think he didn’t have a soul.

Tim had basically changed your life completely in the span of a week. He was still the only one in the general population who could really see you, but he introduced you to his family, the Waynes, who were all able to see you as well, though none as clearly as Tim could. It was like there was something in the water that transformed their reasoning and observational abilities; you couldn’t even sneak down to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat without Alfred, the tall, lean family butler, greeting you. Though, most didn’t look you in the eyes. You thought it was because they had noticed how uncomfortable you got at direct eye contact, though Tim continued to stare into your eyes like he was trying to yank your soul out through your face. It was stressful, but you didn’t have any choice; you owed him. He’d got his dad to practically adopt you, letting you stay in the manor and giving you a whole host of things you hadn’t seen since you were a child, including the softest blanket you’d ever felt, and Bruce had gotten you a private tutor named Jonn, who was also able to see you. Jonn’s presence was a soothing balm on your frayed nerves, though you were loathe to admit that Tim was the cause of your anxiety. There was just something about him, afterall.

You had a new family, and things you could leave in your room without worrying they’d get stolen, and cute clothes, and a tutor… it was a better life than you’d ever had before. Yet, you felt guilty. Weren’t you taking too much? So, you approached Jonn one day, asking him to create a bracelet that would limit your abilities and let you be seen. It was the only way to be able to get a normal life and pay back your generous benefactors, though they insisted they didn’t need the gesture of kindness.

Jonn had complied; afterall, it wasn’t too hard to create one off of pre-existing schematics that were commonly used for cases similar to yours. He had gifted it to you in front of the entire family, who clapped and congratulated you. All except Tim, who leant in the corner with his arms crossed, looking out the window with those distant green eyes.

It had only been a week since you got the bracelet when it first went missing. You searched everywhere, high and low, including getting the others in on the search, to no avail. You had only the family bedrooms left to search, though you’d have to be quick. In and out, quick as you could manage, you searched Jason, Dick, and Damian’s rooms. Then you crossed over and searched Bruce and Cass’s rooms. Finally, you knocked on Tim’s door. It was just a formality at this point, you couldn’t imagine him misplacing it. Faced with no response, you opened the door. And spotted the box.

You’d never seen this box before. It was plain, nondescript. A faded grey, it looked slightly aged and well-loved. Pulling off the lid, you found photos. dozens and dozens of photos. Most were of you, though a few were of Tim’s other family members. Dick, Jason, even Bruce all made appearances, clearly going back years before you’d ever met. Hell, some seemed to be from before Jason had even joined the family, and well before Tim had met the Waynes or lost his parents. How did he get these? There were pictures of you sleeping, walking, breaking into buildings and the school library, even changing… most were from before you’d ever met Tim. Underneath it all was your bracelet, pulled apart into small wires and bits.

“Oh, you’ve found the box,” Bruce’s voice rang out from behind you. You whirled around, watching as he shut and locked Tim’s door, staring at you with a clear, blank expression you’d never seen on his normally joyful face. “It’s Tim’s?” You replied, voice trembling.

He sighed, leaning against the door and crossing his arms. “Yes, it belongs to Tim. I know it seems creepy, but you have to understand… Tim isn’t like us. He doesn’t experience emotion in the same way we do, he never learned the normal boundaries of relationships, growing up the way he did. He uses his camera as a way to capture us, to keep us with him, it’s his way of keeping us safe when he can’t act.”

“They’re from before he met me.” You said, voice hard and cold.

“Yes. Tim tends to stake out anyone he finds particularly interesting. That’s why most of the photos are so old. Think of it as his way of doing research. He feels the need to build our family by snatching up people he thinks of as his, moving around the pieces of our lives until we can be safetly integrated. It’s not so bad, you get used to it.” He continued.

“My parents…” You began, almost too afraid to ask.

“Yes. He planted the idea of a surprise move, a new start. They were being haunted by the ghost of a child they’d never known, and Tim needed a way to get you into position. He’s got a very strategic mind.” Bruce supplied, once again adopting that soft smile you’d grown used to. “Don’t worry, he only does it because he cares. You should see what he does to his enemies…”.

Tim Drake saw you in a way no one else had before.

#lethwrites #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere tim drake #yandere tim drake x reader

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saekkas · 1 year

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𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐒

summary: romantically cliche things the boys do when they're in love with you.

includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.

notes: this might just be the most lovey-dovey thing i've ever written in my life.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍: goes out of his comfort zone, does anything he can so that you're always smiling when with him, makes butterflies erupt every single time he opens his mouth.

kaiser, sae, isagi, karasu

"can't you let me see? we've been doing this for hours!"

his hands are around your face, shielding your vision. you can see nothing but darkness, only small spots of light from the gaps of his fingers. he's been nothing but romantic for the whole day, eager to celebrate your anniversary on a day off. he's taken you to a popular italian place, which he's booked under your name from two months ago, and brought you to a science and art museum that's produced more than a hundred lock screen worthy photos.

all the while keeping his hands around your eyes every time you move onto a new spot. he's determined to make this the best day of your life, and with the way it's going, he's gotten his wish.

"calm down, we're almost there." his voice is right by your ear, tone completely warm as he chuckles at the shiver it brings. "since when were you the impatient one in the relationship?"

"can you blame me? how am i supposed to know you aren't leading me into a trench in the middle of nowhere?" there's only silence, and you can only assume he's grown tired of your whining. "it's a perfectly plausible scenario and you know that. what if-"

"we're here," he says, this time whispering lowly as he stops your movements, placing his chin on your shoulder. "i hope you like it. it's my last present for today."

you blink your eyes when he finally takes away his hand, trying to get used to the onslaught of brightness. you gasp, realizing belatedly that he's taken you to the canopy of your joined apartment. he's taken two chairs from your kitchen, along with a high desk from your work room, and transformed the space into a private space for two.

"this is beautiful. i can't believe you did this for me."

his hands are warm as they trail down your waist, wrapping you snugly against his chest. you can feel the soft breath coming from his mouth, and the telltale signs of a five o'clock shadow as he nuzzles into your neck. "do you like it?"

"i love it. i love you." you stand in silence for a while, taking the time to take everything in. you snap out of your trance like state when he takes your hand, pulling you towards the seats. "thank you. you've completely made my present for you look like trash."

there's a shadow of a smile on his face, bright even under the darkness of the ink blue sky. you'd print it if you could. you'd freeze this moment, this day, so you'll get to experience it forever, in a never-ending loop, if you could.

"two tickets to meet my favorite team is far from trash, but i'll accept the compliment."

that shadow of a smile turns into a grin, and you realize you never want to experience a day without his smile for the rest of your life if you could.

the lights from nearby buildings look and feel as if fireflies, surrounding you in a peaceful hue. his eyes are a different shade today, far brighter than they usually are. his embrace far warmer.

you suppose love does that to the best of people. and you suppose you're lucky to be able to get to experience it with him.

"i have something for you."

you quirk an eyebrow as he leans down to reach for something under his seat. it's rectangular, medium-sized, nothing special looking, and yet your heart's beating against your ribcage, threatening to let loose and engulf him whole.

"i thought this whole set up was supposed to be the last?"

"i lied," he chuckles, handing the object to you with soft eyes. "open it."

the wrapping is shabby at best, and you bite your lip, both endeared and amused by his actions. you tear it gently, gasping when the cover of your favorite book looks back at you. "i..."

the cover feels smooth under your fingers, and you can only choke back a sob when you flip onto the first page, finding his scribbled writing right under the author's autograph. the next pages are similar in different ways, filled with little notes and highlighted words at the edges. his thoughts immortalized for you to read.

"you annotated a book for me?" you sniffle, wiping away the tears before they fall onto the pages. "and got the author to sign it?"

"why are you crying?" he asks out of pure sweetness, nothing but love looking back at you from his eyes. "isn't that what a guy does when he's in love with a girl?"

you only nod, still at a loss of words as he leans down another time, this time placing a cool box on the desk. "gelato?" he asks with a laugh as he places two of your favorite flavored dessert in between you. "can't have my love crying on our special day, can we?"

you learn that the gelato isn't the last surprise either. his last present comes in the form of a ring and a promise made under the night sky.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍: holds every single one of your things, will not let you move a single finger, proudly shows you off as his.

aiku, nagi, kunigami

"i have two hands too, you know?" you laugh, your shoulders shaking as you lean against the apartment door's entrance. "i can bring my own things."

you watch with thinly veiled amusement as he shakes his head with a stubborn frown. his footsteps are heavy, the added weight of all your shopping bags dragging him down slightly. you move slightly to the left, pushing the door open wider so he could enter.

"i'll get you something to drink. hold on," you say with a pointed look before making your way to the kitchen to fetch a water bottle. walking back, you giggle at the sight of him peeking into the paper bags. "here."

the palm of his hands are slightly calloused against the skin of your thighs as he all but drags you onto his lap. the couch sinks under your joined form and you raise an eyebrow when he looks up at you with puppy eyes.

"what?" you ask, slightly suspicious of the pout on his face after the few seconds of silence. "you want something don't you?"

"show me?" his tone is dripping in honey and his hands rub circles on your back as he tries to persuade you. "wanna see my girl all dolled up and pretty."

you sigh at his request, your heart weak at his show of affection. "fine. you better pay attention though."

he hums, nodding his head excitedly as you take the bags and bring them into the bedroom with you, ready for a fashion show.

"i'm not wearing every single one so i'll show you my favorites." the dress you have on is innocent, fun. one you've picked exactly for picnic dates and ice cream runs. it's a baby blue color, white lace trimming your waist with a bow to match. "what do you think?"

his eyes roam from your head down to your feet, and you blink at the silence that coats his answer. "do you not like it?"

he blinks back, as if breaking out of a gaze before he stands, leaning down to press three pecks onto your lips. you watch as he walks back to the couch, tilting your head at the coy smirk on his face. you feel dumbfounded when he waves a hand, motioning for you to try the next one.

the second outfit is far simpler. white top matched with a leather jacket and boots. there's no other sound besides the fan by the edge of the kitchen and his footsteps as he leans in to press another kiss. only two this time.

you snort when you realize when he's doing. if there's anything your boyfriend will do, it's charm you with whatever weird stunt he has up his sleeve. "you are impossible. what is this? your version of america's top model?"

"i don't hear you complaining." he walks back to his seat, watching you with lidded eyes and a small smirk filling his expression. "next one?"

you snort, changing into the last outfit for him to see. this one's far more intimate as you've bought it for special occasions. the dress is a dark maroon, it sinks down to the floor with a plunging neckline that is a wonder to the eyes. you watch as he stiffens, becking you forward with a come-hither motion on his finger.

you sway your hips as you walk, looking at him with a coy smile that he most certainly loves. before you have the chance to lean down, he shoots up, pressing three kisses on your lips, and another on your exposed chest.

his hands wrap around your waist, tilting your chin so that you meet his eyes. "next one."

"that was the last one." you quirk an eyebrow, squinting when he grins. "what?"

"try my clothes. i'll give you full scores for every outfit."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒: gets you anything and everything that reminds him of you, reminds you of your worth every day, charming to the point that your mother wants you to marry him asap.

rin, yukimiya, bachira, reo

"hey, i know you're a big-time pro-athlete now but that doesn't mean you need to spend all your money on me."

your boyfriend has a thing for splurging. he buys things that are almost always useless and insists on gifting them to you with a big shiny bow wrapped around it. he isn't much of a spender for himself, insists on wearing his clothes until they're somehow falling off his body but with you? his pockets are loose, wallet seemingly always filled with credit cards.

an investment for the future, he calls it.

you don't know whether to laugh at the absurdity of his words or cry because this handsomely talented individual actually sees you as part of his future. he's calling you as his future. talk about sweeping a girl off her feet.

"they're pretty. i thought you'd want to see them."

the bouquet that he sent is nothing if not pretty. it's a stunning piece of work, an arrangement of many different kinds of vividly colored flowers wrapped into a huge bundle. it's hefty in your hand and you'd be lying of you said that it isn't a treat for the eyes.

"you could have taken a picture and showed it to me through text, eh?" you walk forward, smelling the flowers in your hand, and carefully place them on the desk to put in a vase later. "you didn't need to ship it all the way from paris."

you watch as the pixelated version boyfriend shrugs, a sweet smile forming on his lips at your words. it's nighttime where he's at, and it shows through the darkness of the hotel window he currently resides in. the video shakes as he holds his phone, moving away from the window and onto a bed.

"do you like it?" he asks, propping a hand behind his head and on a pillow. "the florist recommended that one for you. she said it had a special meaning."

"yeah? tell her she has amazing taste and is very kind if you ever meet her again."

he hums, eyes hazy and laced with sleep. you smile when he tries to stifle a yawn. "you should go to sleep. it's late there, isn't it?"

"it's fine." he yawns like a puppy is your first thought when he does let it out. there's an air of tiredness around him, clearly drained from practice and a match. you giggle when he yawns again, this time stretching his hands above his head like a cat. adorable. "i wanna talk to you for a bit more. i miss you."

you soften at that. "i miss you too. just three more days, right?"

he nods at that, the smile never leaving his face. the smile, you've come to realize, is reserved especially for you. "i told the florist to write a note for you too. is it there?"

you hum, placing the phone against your mug to look for it. you've been too distracted by its beauty that you never noticed the small piece of white paper that's attached to one of the flowers' stems. the first thing that catches your eye is the list of flowers the bouquet is made from and their meaning.

roses; love, warmth. dahlia; eternal love, appreciation, commitment. chrysanthemums; loyalty, happiness, joy. ranunculus; charm and attractiveness. anemones; anticipation.

the second, is the beautiful cursive handwriting that details, "i'll love you until the last one withers."

you look back to your phone, smiling brightly at him. "thank you. this means everything to me." there's an air of happiness that surrounds him at your words, his smile brightening along with yours. there's a glint in his eye that you're suspicious of, yet you don't get to call him out for it.

"i'm glad you like it. i'm gonna head in now. i'll text you in the morning, okay?" he hums, padding from his bed and turning the light off, bathing him in a moonlit glow. "call me when you wake up."

"okay." there's always a bittersweet feeling in saying good night to him, in saying temporary farewells. your shoulders slump slightly and you nod, blowing him a kiss. "night. sweet dreams. i love you."

"i love you too, angel."

the line disconnects after a few minutes of silent staring and you sigh, turning away to find a vase for your newly bought gift. it's only when you're gently placing the flowers in that you realize one's different from the others. you chuckle, holding the fake flower to your chest. picking up your phone, your fingers glide across the screen, sending him a text you hope he'll see when he wakes.

you: who knew you were such a romantic

you: i'll love you forever. thank you. you mean the world to me.

your fingers stop as you take in the flower once more, every single one of its petals has been painted a different color. it's smooth against your hand, and you grin when you lift it to your nose to sniff. it smells like him.

you: send me your hotel address. i'm sending you a gift.

you: me.

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lucyrose191 · 10 months

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12 YEARS LATER, PART 2| S.O BLACK

Pairing; POA!Sirius Black x wife!reader

Summary; It’s been 12 years since Y/N last saw her husband, now it was time to see him for the first time, what could she say to him?

Warnings; Angst? Fluff, Sirius probably looks like death

HP/Marauders Master List

Sirius felt happiness and immense relief to see that the home you shared all of those years ago hadn’t changed at all, the garden was still well kept and from what he could see through the windows of the living room, it was still decorated the same way.

It was like a breath of fresh air being back in the place that held so many memories and loving moments; moments that had gotten him through the past twelve years of hell.

Knowing he was innocent had protected his sanity against the dementors but remembering those soft touches and electric kisses had kept him half happy.

He frequently dreamt of those slow mornings you spent together, that feeling of pure happiness he felt back then to wake up next to you, being able to see you first thing in the morning was the greatest gift he could have ever asked for.

He hadn’t really known how lucky he was back then to have those small moments; he had only realised when it had been taken away from him.

Sirius had thought about you every single day. He wondered how you looked, if you had moved on and created a family, if you hated him…

And now, his heart was pounding in his chest as he scratched at the door with his paw, knowing that you and Harry were merely on the other side.

He could hear your voice and whilst it was more matured and had lost that young playfulness he once knew, it was still you.

He waited. Waited. Waited.

As each minute passed by, his heart beat more erratic in his chest.

Eventually, the door opened.

It wasn’t you, it was Harry stood there with a massive smile on his face at the sight of his godfather.

Even though he knew there was no one around for miles, Sirius cautiously looked around before he transformed back into himself. "It’s good to see you again, Harry," his voice was hoarse and gruff from its lack of use but still held its friendly tone.

Harry launched himself into Sirius’ arms, catching the latter off guard and almost sending him tumbling off the sheer force of the impact but he welcomed the embrace with a chuffed laugh. "I’m glad you’re staying here, Padfoot."

Sirius mindfully patted Harry’s back as he pulled away, smiling slightly but Harry could tell that Sirius wasn’t really paying much attention, he could see the distraction in the way his godfather was looking over his shoulder into the house, as though hoping to catch sight of something, or someone. "Where’s your godmother?" He asked in a dreaded whisper.

Harry shuffled awkwardly as he looked back into the house before looking back to Sirius. "Uhm, she’s in the kitchen preparing dinner."

Sirius swallowed but nodded, releasing a nervous sigh as he looked to the ground then back up, not really knowing what to do.

Harry pursed his lips, feeling uncomfortable, knowing that you weren’t really impressed with the last minute bomb he dropped on you when you weren’t ready and that Sirius was at a loss to what he could say to you after over a decade of being without you. Harry had put the three of you in this situation and felt the responsibility to guide you through it.

"Why don’t you go to my room and you can get cleaned up and I can find you some clothes to wear then you can join us and have something proper to eat?" He suggested, sighing in relief when Sirius nodded, seeming to like that idea.

Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest that it was beginning to ache, the pain almost becoming unbearable as you heard footsteps behind you.

"It’s just me," Harry spoke, calming you instantly, causing you to turn around.

"Where is he?" You whispered, looking around wearing, you felt uneasy in your own house knowing that he was nearby.

"I took him upstairs to my room so he could shower, do you know if we have any clothes he could change into?" Harry asked.

You paused for a moment before speaking. "I do, actually." Thinking back to the boxes hidden away at the back of your wardrobe, you didn’t know if they’d still fit him but they were his.

"Could you grab them for me and I’ll take them to him?" You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen, leaving Harry to keep an eye on the food.

You could hear the sound of running water that came from Harry’s en-suite; he was so close yet so far and you had no idea how to feel about it.

You grabbed him clean socks, underwear, joggers and a t-shirt, even going as far as pulling out some of his old hair care products that used to crowd the bathroom counter knowing that Azkaban probably hadn’t been great for his hair and that would have broken your Sirius’ heart.

Sirius couldn’t fight his smile at the sight of the clothes and products that had been left on Harry’s bed for him, they were his, you had kept them all of these years, that had to mean something, didn’t it?

He had purposely taken his time getting dressed whether he was aware of it or not, he was trying to prolong the time it would take to see you, hoping he’d think of something he could say to you, he hadn’t thought of anything by the time he had finished so he just bit the bullet and slowly made his way downstairs.

The entire house was the way he had left it that Halloween night in 1981, only with the addition of photos of you and Harry from throughout the years, it made him smile to see that you had both had a nice life, the only thing that made him sad was that it had been just the two of you and he hadn’t been there with you.

The sound of your’s and Harry’s voices floating from the kitchen filled his heart, he could tell the bond between the pair of you was strong.

As soon as he hit the threshold of the kitchen, the chatter immediately stopped, the pair of you were already sat as the table with your plates in front of you; a large plate of food was sat in front of an empty chair opposite you, waiting for him.

The two of you made eye contact and every thought in his mind disappeared, all those words he wanted to say to you no longer mattered because everything that needed to be said was spoken just from looking into your eyes.

You were beautiful, just as you had been back then and you still had the same effect on him. The air was sucked from his lungs and he was punched in the face with the most overwhelming feeling of love he had ever experienced, the ring that had remained on his finger since you were nineteen was suddenly weighed down by his feelings for you that hadn’t disappeared in the slightest, even after so long apart.

His eyes shot to your left hand and his chest grew heavy at the lack of jewellery on your finger, he had to remind himself that he had betrayed you though, by leaving you that night with no telling of what he was doing, he had simply left and not returned.

"Padfoot," Harry’s voice cut through the tension between the two of you. "You should eat something," he pointed towards the plate that was piled with food.

Sirius pursed his lips and nodded weakly, carefully making his way to the table and sitting down, it was as though he thought any movement that was too fast would break something between you that hadn’t yet been fixed.

The three of you sat in the most intense silence; Sirius and Harry ate but you had quickly lost your appetite, the sight of him had just about torn you in two.

He was all skin and bone, every movement he made showed just how weak he was, the shaking of his hands a sign of his lack of nutrition.

Even though you hadn’t seen him before his shower you know it must have done him well because his skin was clean and he looked fresh, his facial hair was neatly groomed and his hair, though longer than you remember, was in its typical ringlets, a sharp contrast to the way he looked in the wanted posters you had seen.

Sirius was thankful to eat something that wasn’t wild animals he had hunted; food that was actually filling and would give him the energy he lacked.

He could feel the glances you kept sending him but kept his head down and his attention focused on his meal, he was afraid of what you would say to him.

Would you tell him you had moved on a long time ago and you were simply doing this for Harry?

The sound of you clearing your throat caused him to look up, Harry had disappeared without him noticing, it was just the two of you, your eyes looking into his with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify.

"I’m glad you’re okay," you spoke, voice ever so gentle.

Sirius dropped his fork and leaned back in his seat, focusing all of his attention on you. "I’m glad you and Harry are okay, it was all I ever thought about," he replied.

The roughness of his voice took you by surprise but you suppose it shouldn’t have considering the lack of people he had to speak to whilst he was imprisoned.

"A part of me was worried, knowing you were out there all alone," you confessed.

Your words made his heart swell but he knew better than to get his hopes up. "And the other? Worried that I wanted to hurt him?" He couldn’t mask the bitterness in his voice, the thought of you thinking he could do such a thing would break him.

"Worried that you didn’t want to actually, I was worried that everything the public knew about you was wrong and that you were out there all alone in the cold and wanting to do something good. Because it meant you had been locked up all those years for nothing and well, that worry was a reality."

Your words comforted him but there was one thing they had been on his mind since he had spoken to Harry for the first time. "You only told him about me at the beginning of the year when I escaped, why?"

You looked down at the table, tears in your eyes. "It was just me and Harry for years, I had all these photographs for him and all of these stories about James and Lily. There was a constant in the photos that he was curious about, the man with the cheeky smile and the long, curly hair. I just told him you were an old friend because I couldn’t tell the little boy he was back then that the entire Wizarding world thought you were the reason they were dead and I didn’t want to tell him my thoughts either because I wanted him to decide what he wanted to think when he was old enough and he did."

"And what were your thoughts?" He asked the dreaded question.

You smiled painfully and shook your head. "That you are the most irrational and dare I say irresponsible man that I have ever met in my life and you were overwhelmed with grief that night, so much so that you didn’t at all think straight about the outcome of your actions. You were just filled with betrayal and heartbreak that the only thing you cared about was getting revenge and I never blamed you for that, I only ever blamed you for losing the life you deserved to live, losing the life we could have shared."

Sirius’ eyes welled up at your words, both from relief that you never thought he did what he was accused of and guilt for the way he had acted that night, knowing that he had caused you a hell of a lot of loss, loss of the life you had wanted to build with him.

He was suddenly wracked with the emotion of the reality of what had actually happened and what he had missed out on, what you both had missed out on. "Did you-" he wanted to ask but you were already shaking your head.

"Absolutely not, there was never anyone else, it was only ever you and I never had to question it." There was such confidence in your words and it shot right into his chest, it was as though those words had broken the dam that had hidden his emotions because the flood gates had opened and Sirius buried his head in his hands as sobs wracked through his body.

You jumped up from your seat and made your way around the table, taking Harry’s vacant seat and pulling it right up beside Sirius’, wrapping your arms around him.

Sirius leaned into your body, allowing himself to be fully wrapped up in your arms.

It wasn’t long before his sobs stopped but he made no effort to move from your embrace, instead he relished in the familiar comfort that he had longed for and allowed himself to smile as he smelled the scent of the perfume you still wore and had worn since you were a teenager.

You pressed a kiss into his hair before resting your head against his. "I missed you so much." You assured him.

"I missed you, you and Harry were all I ever thought about, you got me through it, you’ve always been my strength." He muttered into your shoulder.

You closed your eyes at his words, not wanting to cry but it was hard, you had him in your arms again and it filled you with so many overwhelming emotions.

"You’re still so beautiful," you laughed at his muffled compliment, squeezing him tighter in response.

"I’m glad you’re here, Sirius. I’m so happy you’re back." You told him.

"Me too," he sighed, then waited for a moment before asking. "Where are your rings?"

You silently and reluctantly pulled away from him but remained close. You reached up and pulled out the chain that was hanging from your neck, hanging from the chain were two rings; one was a simple, thin, silver band and the other was a diamond encrusted band with a large, rectangle shaped, white sapphire in the centre.

"I knew Harry would ask questions because he’s so nosey but I wants to keep them on me," you explained.

Sirius nodded with a smile, happy you still kept them and wore them, his smile widened as he watched you remove the chain from your neck and remove the rings before placing them on your left hand where they belonged.

He moved forward and rested his forehead against yours, not necessarily ready to let go just yet.

Harry stood in the doorway of the kitchen, you were right, he was nosey but he didn’t really care. He was way too amazed at the sight in front of him, he could quite literally see the connection that was shared between his godparents and was beyond happy that the two of you were able to be reunited and hopefully make your way back to each other.

You would make your way back to each other, Sirius was your family and he was your home. The connection between the two of you hadn’t been lost in the time apart and it only made you more confident in the fact that Sirius Black was your soulmate, he was the other half of your heart and there’s no one else you would wait so long for or want to spend your life with.

You loved him more than anything and well aware that he felt the same way about you.

Tag list; those who asked to be tagged in part 2. @bullets-from-another-dimension @babyclea @mel-vaz @crowleythesexydemon @mspotterh

#sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #padfoot x reader #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #sirius black #harry potter #hp #hp fanfic

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jymwahuwu · 4 months

Text

Content warnings: yandere, angst(?), some descriptions of capitalism, you're locked up

Summary: You are a bakery owner and you and your shop are going to be evicted by the IPC. Unfortunately, Aventurine is the one handling the plans.

Note: I suddenly want to write this very much...sorry, I don't know what I am writing...🥹

According to the calendar of your home planet, you spent all your savings and bought a bakery three years ago.

Once upon a time, you had your own ideals, which were woven into unrealistic dreams in your childhood paintings. When you become an adult, you realize that adults use lies to pile up in school and blow up beautiful bubbles. Those lies are probably the beginning of your idealized misfortune. Your dream goes from unrealistic to another. Under consumerism, you want a property of your own, with one room, a large living room, an open kitchen, and a ceiling where you can sleep while looking at the stars. Approximately 8,000,000 credits. You deposit money into the Cosmic Bank. Staring at the rising numbers in the bank account with tired eyes, health has been replaced by some slowly rising numbers and countless nights.

Then, you collapse. Your ideal transforms into a spaceship for 1,200,000 credits. However, classmates and friends of Universe University in the same year shared on social media that they had gotten married step by step, had children, and had a lovely next generation from the artificial womb. The venue for their proposal was on a romantic planet with endless sea, sky and seagulls. A growing sense of comparison creates unnecessary suffering. Others tell you, go ahead, just like others, work, save money, buy a house, buy a car, get married, have children, bring new blessings to the universe, and believe in an Aeon you like.

Best is Qlipoth. They said. Everyone said so.

That's the Aeon that IPC fervently believes in. They may not necessarily know about the walls and protections made by Qlipoth, but people must know that IPC is a huge company involved in the economy of the entire universe. Their golden bodies symbolize enviable wealth in people's eyes.

But spacecraft are out of reach. You figured this out through a cheap and unpalatable 10-credit lunch and a scolding from your boss. You know you should set a more realistic goal.

Then let’s get a car with 30,000 credits. There are also jewelry for 50,000 credits. I'll go shopping after get off work. you said so.

You walked into the store and bought a car that met your expectations despite the salesperson's inner eye rolls and eager sales. Stroking its shell, eager joy surges into your heart, as if your hard work has been transformed into a visible reward. This is valuable. And jewelry, you buy a necklace that sparkles around your neck.

Your face was hot with excitement. There is value in this, keep it to yourself and it will appreciate in value!

Trembling with excitement, there is endless emptiness behind the joyful smile. Cosmic Express is responsible for delivering express delivery to your home. You browse the Internet and buy a list of unnecessary things to fill your misery and pain and stop the bleeding that might come out.

Then one day you quit your job after another scolding, knowing that you are just a cog in the functioning of society. You don't want to live like this anymore, but you don't know how to live without money and without getting married like others. You buy a spaceship ticket and wander off randomly. Romantic, casual and comfortable life. You think idealistically again to cheer yourself up. No matter where you go, you have to start a new life.

You arrive on a new planet, a beautiful and highly developed space society. The dome has a transparent dome woven from Qlipoth that envelopes the entire planet. You have heard that IPC has its headquarters here, but some say it is just one of its branches. Regardless, they obsessively imitated the architecture of Aeon Qlipoth, constructing a towering building with a beautiful transparent glass dome. It is stationed on the planet like a banyan tree, tirelessly absorbing money and energy.

You bought a small, independent bakery on one of the shopping streets, renovated it and prepared it for opening and used up almost all the credit in your bank account. But, you are happy, from the bottom of your heart, practicing your baking recipes and thinking about a bright future. On opening day, you put up a sign with a design on it. And greets all guests warmly. They smell the aroma of bread, follow the traces and step into your store, buying this and that bread and drinks. The aroma of food, warm bread, that is the breath of life.

One month after opening, Aventurine stepped into your bakery. When socializing at work, he accompanied his clients to drink and enjoy haute cuisine, with a charming smile. During lunch, he would choose a coffee shop or an elegant restaurant to sit and browse the stock market and invest. Those tens of millions of money came and went, only in exchange for a smile or a sip of coffee from him. Wonderful afternoon. Beautiful gamble. But that day, he smelled a different aroma of bread, and realized that a new store had opened in the commercial street.

He walked into the store and browsed the golden bread. Aventurine spent 2 minutes choosing toast and croissants, listening to the sound of money arriving on his phone. He glanced at you, who was in uniform and busy. It was inevitable that he thought from a professional and utilitarian perspective, wondering how this narrow store did not meet the requirements of modern business. Decoration, bread production, marketing, and store staffing. It would be foolish to hire just one clerk. Hiring just one more clerk can lead to more revenue. You obviously have your hands full.

He spent 2 minutes in line. When it was Aventurine's turn to pay, you gave him a warm smile, as warm as sunshine. These days, you remember some familiar faces of your customers. You're a little surprised by the new-faced customers arriving at the store.

You greet him and ask if he wants a takeout or just enjoy it in the store.

"Right here, thank you." Aventurine replied.

So Aventurine sat down, right in the bakery. He munched his bread and invested his money, living his daily life. Day after day, weeks and months passed. Occasionally, he pays attention to you. You always do all the work in the store, packing the bread, putting it on the shelves, and doing the cashiering. So one day, He asked out of curiosity. “Isn’t the bakery owner going to hire an extra employee?”

You opened your eyes wide and smiled awkwardly. "I-I'm the owner of this bakery."

Ah, so here's the answer. Aventurine nodded, you may not have more funds, but he accidentally started to invest and play, just like the play he had not completed in childhood. He loved investing, which was like finding a pearl in the ocean, playing Monopoly, playing with his assets. A desire arose spontaneously, satisfying his heart. "Have you considered expanding the store and staff? I see your bakery is very popular. I've witnessed many, but none like this, and swear there's some potential here."

"Really?" You were a little shy in the compliment. He was surprised at your naivety. "Thank you, but I have no plans yet."

"Oh, you're eating Brioche today." You looked down at the bread he selected. "You are a familiar face. Let me give you a discount. It only costs 200 credits."

Aventurine was about to refuse, but heard your question. "If you don't mind, could you tell me what you do for a living?"

He didn't understand the specific reason. Aventurine didn't want to reveal his work in front of you, so he muttered vaguely. "I'm in the gambling business."

"You mean the casino?" You blinked.

"Yeah, yes," he replied.

"That must be hard…" You recalled the casino in the drama, where the gamblers seemed likely to fight. He must have been mediating frequently there. After thinking about it, you gave him extra drinks and bread. “Here’s today’s special offer!”

Aventurine held the drink at a loss, feeling that the cold drink was radiating heat.

On a rainy and windy afternoon, Aventurine won't sit at your outdoor table. He returned to the IPC with the bread and pressed the button for the lift. One of the members of Ten Stonehearts saw him and asked caringly. "I can't see you eating in the office lately. Can you be full just by eating bread?"

"It's okay. I fill up easily." He smiled politely, even though he had eaten some more bread… He didn't refuse your offer.

He finished chewing the bread while scrolling through your bakery’s social media feeds on his phone. You like to update the bakery's social media and have accumulated about a few hundred likes per post. In the photo, you shared a new type of bread, and your passion for life is reflected in your eyebrows and eyes.

The department meeting is just after lunch. The holographic screen fluttered IPC's business plans and developments. IPC announced that one of its small plans was to acquire a new commercial street and all the businesses would have to move out. His eyes reflected the glowing words- your bakery is on that commercial street.

Gradually, that friendly customer who works at the casino becomes too busy to visit your bakery, or he finds a new restaurant. There's something empty inside you, like a piece is missing.

New signs were posted in the neighborhood, and other store owners who often borrowed flour and other supplies from each other knocked on your door and told you that the Interastral Peace Corporation was buying the street and that every store was going to be evicted. This will be the place where a new type of space commercial city will be built. Many companies will settle in and open stores. It will be beautiful and modern, just like other space commercial cities. You'd better discuss a compensation plan with IPC now and strive for better terms.

IPC may compromise, but with other economic systems of the entire planet, not with a small commercial street. They do what they say they will do.

Like a bolt from the blue, you repeatedly confirmed and asked questions. Why does it have to be here? Why? What are their plans? How much will the compensation be? The IPC wants the compensation to be as small as possible, and the shop owners will fight for it, but the court is on their side. So don’t be too tough in your attitude, be more diplomatic, be more worldly, and seek more benefits for you. they said.

Many shop owners have signed up for the compensation plan. You are one of the few shop owners who are too stubborn to embrace the world. Guard this shop like a dragon guarding the last treasure. As the deadline gets closer, you notice more rude customers, the ingredient supplier says they can no longer serve you, and some negative messages and reviews appear to smear you. There are also people in all-black uniforms looking outside your store. That's downright creepy.

But you are not afraid, what you are afraid of is that something will be taken away from you again. Those capitalists are used to taking something from you and then giving you something in compensation. Before it was salary, now it's compensation plans.

Occasionally, you bow to reality and pay attention to some new stores, but those prices cannot be bought with compensation.

One night, before you close the shop, you hear the sound of construction work, destroying the original shops. It's not loud and noisy, it's a new space construction technology, but you're terrified and just want to pack up and go home. You have filed a complaint with the court. Once again, you place your hopes on the ethereal, and then you see a figure appear at the window of the bakery.

Ah, it's that customer. He must be here to support you and buy bread.

You maintained your smile and greeted him, "I haven't seen you recently. Where have you been?"

Aventurine just stared. There was some compassion in his expression, and his features were soft. He knew that the gentlest of measures would not work. “…let me talk to you about the new compensation plan.”

You were stunned for a while. "…What do you mean?"

He hands you a card with neatly printed handwriting and the IPC logo.

“Aventurine, Senior Manager in the IPC Strategic Investment Department”

You held the card and read it for a while before looking up at him. Your throat was dry but tears were streaming down your face. The holographic screen projects a new plan, specially prepared for you stubborn, idealistic people, to provide better compensation.

"…Go away, I don't want to see you!" You paused for half a minute before getting angry and pushing him out of the store. What flows inside is anger at the betrayal, even though you know he doesn't have to support you. Aventurine's arms opened up to embrace you. You were shocked, struggling, and sobbing. "I don't want to see you…you are with them…I have nothing, and you still want to take it away…"

Halted like an emotional kitten, you whimpered, tired from sobbing, sleep overtook you and darkness enveloped you.

You opened your eyes and found yourself in a luxurious room, with stars visible on the ceiling and a soft quilt covering you. Pillow supports your head. You adjusted to the light for a few seconds, frowned, and moved your hands, but the sound of the chain sounded. You looked at the chains on your hands, stunned, shaking and struggling. "What-what's going on?"

"Ah, you're awake." Aventurine opened the door and came in. He touched your forehead, and you realized that the clothes you were wearing had also been changed. They were a set of pajamas. "What happened?" You shook the chain in your hand in confusion. "Someone attacked us last night?" "Um, it's not like that actually."

Aventurine comforted you and shushed you. "You're locked in. Shhh...shhh, don't scream. I know this may be hard to accept at first, but you'll see the benefits."

He explained, to your expression like a frightened little animal. "…For business purposes, I looked into your background. You've been having a hard time, haven't you? Now you finally have time to relax. This is one of my houses, and it's yours, too."

"I didn't ask you..." Tears welled up in your eyes. Are you going to be locked up? "I know." Aventurine stroked your head gently. "I know, now just relax. I'll take care of the bakery. We'll open a new one somewhere with the ocean, you know, new plans."

You noticed that he used the word "we," which made your heart feel strangely warm. You were speechless, closed your eyes, turned around, a tear flowed down your cheek, and the chain creaked.

This is your new reality, but at least you can rest, right?

#aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail aventurine #hsr aventurine #hsr aventurine x reader #honkai star rail x you

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alexa-fika · 5 months

Note

hii!! i love all your writings btw im giggling to all of it (i've read the x child!readers its so cute help)

i was wondering if you could make whitebeard pirates x child! with mist df reader that is moody oorrr that kind of child who likes to play pranks. if you could make it use they/them?? thank youu!

Naughty Bratty (Whitebeard pirates x gn!child!reader)

A/N: HERE WE GOOOO I COOKED, once again most part of this is based on interactions either my own students, so I hope you guys liked it, decided to combine these two requests since they are of the same nature and also it made the creation of this the more easier and also slightly longer ✊🏽

Reader here is replaced by dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Dokucha Thatch is almost done with lunch; we’re gonna head down to the mess hall, so you need to put your stuff away before we do,” Izou called

“No!” They screamed, kicking their feet

“We can play with them later; right now, we must go to the mess hall and get lunch before food is gone.”

“I don’t want to!”

“That is quite alright, but do know that you won’t get to play with these then,” he said, gesturing to the building blocks in their hands

“Noo!” They cried

“Then pick them up,” he repeated

The small child scowled but obliged, grabbing the blocks from the ground and putting them in the small basket they originally were in

“Thank you”

“Hmph”

He sighed, shaking his head as he followed after the child towards the mess hall, following after them as they grabbed their food

“Dokucha, don’t hold it like that; you will spill it all over,” Thatch called out to the child as they balanced the bowl of food in one of their hands

“I don’t care”

“Well, I do because it’s my kitchen and my responsibility,” he snapped back

They grin at him, smacking the bowl to the floor, laughing gleefully

“Okay, that’s it, you’re done.” He stated, walking towards them

They stick their tongue out at him, turning their body into mist and making a quick exit out of the mess hall and into the deck where they glided over the ship, close enough to remain between the huge sails but high enough to where the crew could not reach them

“Dokucha come down.”

“Nope!” They laughed, accentuating the p as they twirled around in the air

“Dokucha, if we have to come get you, you won’t like what’s going to happen,” Ace called, having followed after the commotion in the mess hall

“Ha! Ha! Can’t catch me!” They mocked the two, pulling at their eye and sticking out their tongue out at them

“No, but I Can,” a voice piped in behind them as a force brought them to the ground

Once they had gathered their thoughts together, they glanced around them, noticing the talons caging them, following them up to the owner only to meet up with the disappointed look of their brother in his hybrid form

They frowned, turning their body into mist once again only to find themselves unable to, noticing how their brother had gotten ahead of them and covered the talons in haki to keep them solid

“Let me go!” They screamed, punching at the talons, trying to slip free from their confinement

“No, can do; you are done for today; we are not doing this.”

They glance at their wrist at the feeling of something surrounding it,only to spot a sea stone bracelet now locked around it, Thatch kneeling next to them

“Take it off, Take it off! ” they hollered

Ace sighed, taking a hold of the child and nodding to Marco as they lifted them, keeping a tight hold on them as they walked into the ship

“Where do I take them?”

“You can take them to my room; we can talk to them there; they'll probably keep trying to run and throw things if we try to talk to them here,” Marco answered, transforming his body back to his human form

“No! Let me go, asshole!”

“We’re not using those words,” Ace sighed

“Fuck you!” They screamed, trashing against him

He shook his head, tightening his hold on the child, and they entered the first mate quarters, placing down the child in the corner of the room

Marco followed after them, closing the door behind him after assuring Thatch they had it covered as he headed back to feed the crew

“Nope, you’re not going anywhere until you calm down and talk to us,” Ace said, blocking their way as they tried to slip away

“Fuck you! I hate you!”

“You can keep talking like that all you want; it will just make you stay here longer.” Marco shrugged

“Fuck you!” They sobbed as they began screaming at the top of their lungs, screams echoing across the room

“You’re just going to hurt your throat doing that,” Marco pointed out

Dokucha ignored them as they simply began to scream louder, kicking at the walls around them as they kept trying to slip away, only to be stopped by Ace each time

After a while, the child’s screams settled down; only small sniffles escaped them as they sat in the corner

“You ready to talk?” Questioned Ace softly

“Yeah,” they muttered, looking up at them

“So? Why did you do it?”

They stayed quiet, not looking at them

“Look at us.”

They ignored him, staring at the ground

“Dokucha, look at us,” repeated Marco sternly

They glance up at them at his words

“Why did you throw your food and run away?” He questioned, kneeling next to them

“I don’t know,” they mumbled

He sighed at this

“You think Thatch liked that?” He questioned

They shook his head

“Okay, so here is what we are going to do: we are going to go back to the kitchen, you are going to apologize to Thatch, and then you’re going to go talk with Pops about what happened,” he explained

“No! Don’t tell him!” They cried

“It’s too late for that Dokucha, we’re telling pops,” Ace told them

“No!” They whined

“You should have thought about that before you did it.”

They frown at that

“Are you ready to go apologize to Thatch?”

They nodded, taking hold of Ace’s extended hand as the three of them made it back to the kitchen, quickly finding Thatch, who, upon seeing them, stepped out of his cooking to approach them

They stayed quiet, fidgeting with the bracelet on their wrist as they shook it around

“Dokucha,” Marco called, a warning tone to his words

“If you are not ready to talk to Thatch, we can take another time-out in my room.”

They glance up at Thatch at the words, muttering a small ‘sorry’ their way

“Sorry for what?” Ace asked, prompting them to continue

“I'm sorry for being mean and throwing your food on the ground,” they finished

“That’s quite alright, pumkin’; it did make me sad to see you were acting like that; you think we could listen to my words next time?,” he asked, kneeling down in front of them

They nodded, giving the man a hug

“Thank you, Pumkin,” he said embracing them

“Alright, thank you for apologizing Dokucha, are you ready to go see pops?” Ace asked, picking them up and placing them on their hip

The child nodded, placing their head against his shoulder as they began walking to the Captain’s quarters

“Pops, you have a second?” Marco asked, knocking on the door, opening at the affirmative response from the older man

Whitebeard glanced at them, sending a questioning look, spotting the child in Ace’s arms

“They are having a rough day today, been rude towards everyone,” Marco elaborates at the unspoken questioned

Whitebeard let out a grunt, waving the two men off as the fireman put them down and walked out of the room, Marco following behind him

“Why are you being a brat today?” He questioned, cutting to the chase

“I'm not…”

“Really? Then what would you call what you have been today? Cause it sounds like you have been a petulant child all day long.”

“Sorry”

He sighed, gesturing them to come closer, plucking them into their lap as they did

“Dokucha, we are not your parents; we don’t have any plans to abandon you.”

“I know”

“You're not showing it,” he quips back

“When you want our attention, you just have to ask us; we are not like them; you don’t have to waste yourself away trying to do the impossible just to be praised; you need just ask, and any of us is thrilled to be with you, so instead of acting like this talk to us, alright?”

“Thank you, Papaw”

Okay I know that that end is kinda suddened but honesgly the other one I had went too deep into the education sode of things and was too messy, so I just decided to stop there, hopefully it makes sense

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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moog-rt · 3 months

Text

ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ [ch.1]

[Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Prologue

➨ Chapter One

Next: Chapter Two

Premise:

The multiverse theory is the idea that there is not only one universe but, instead, an infinite number of universes, parallel to one another.

You and Tenko were heroes in your universe. The war came and went, and that left only you. When you are thrown into a universe parallel to yours, you find out the hard way just how similar and different it is from your own.

A/N: I know this is technically the first chapter BUT, there is a prologue for this story. So if you haven't checked that out yet, it's linked above, and I highly recommend reading that first.

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER ONE

The rain grew heavier, encouraging you to turn away from your departing friend in favor of heading home. Combined with the cool early-spring air, you were sure you’d get a chill. It was a little surreal, being a top-charted hero who helped save the world from villainous destruction and taking transit like you were a typical commuter. No one batted an eye. They probably didn’t even recognize you regardless of whether or not you were dressed for work.

That’s how the world was.

They cared for the first few weeks following the end of the war, but that dwindled as weeks stretched into months. Once the roads were rebuilt and everyone resumed their daily lives, there wasn’t much to remind them of what had happened.

And after the upheaval of hero-dominated society, the raving over who was Number One and which debuts showed the most promise declined to almost nothing.

Heroes were becoming a thing of the past.

Your apartment was reminiscent of that fact. For nearly your entire life, you were chasing after some dream of becoming a hero and making the world a better and safer place. Yet there was barely anything decorating your walls or countertops to suggest such a thing. You had been living there for roughly two years, just after the end of the war, but there were countless boxes shoved aside still waiting to be unpacked. You’d peered inside them a handful of times, but you decided it was better that their contents stayed tucked away.

After entering your apartment, you wasted no time in peeling off your soaked clothing. The various articles landed on the linoleum flooring with a wet slap. You kicked your pants to the side and shuffled over to one of the stools at your kitchen counter. You grabbed a throw blanket that was draped over the back of one of them and wrapped it around your shivering body.

A pitiful groan emanated from your stomach just before it cramped up uncomfortably. With a slight wince, you huffed and checked your fridge for any remaining left overs or easy meals.

What a sad sight that was. The light inside of the fridge illuminated your face as you stared at mostly empty shelves.

Whatever.

You could always order take out.

Swiping away missed calls and unread messages, you began a search for anything that sounded appealing.

Maybe if you’d gotten a text from Toga or Iguchi, you would have cared. But Toga was obviously busy with her big move, and you couldn’t remember the last time Iguchi had reached out to you. For a while, you two would try to make time to grab lunch or play games like you used to, but you both knew it was hardly the same anymore. You saw each other less and less, until your meetups stopped altogether.

Nowadays, your dreams were filled with memories rather than hopes for the future. Your heart and soul longed for the experiences and the people in your past, and the only way you could indulge was in your sleep. Waking up afterwards was like pulling teeth as you tried your utmost to return to whatever memory had been playing out in your mind.

The doorbell rang.

Your food was left outside your door, and after bringing it in, you ate maybe half of it before banishing the leftovers to the fridge of doom. The light filtering into your apartment gradually turned cool and dim, meaning it was just late enough for you to justify turning in for the night. You didn’t bother putting on a dry set of clothes, instead opting to crawl into bed wearing your mildly soggy undergarments.

Every day was the same. You’d work, go home, eat, and sleep. You never went out anymore, and you were certain that if you picked up your TV remote, it would leave a silhouette behind contrasting the dusty surface.

The only bits of ‘décor’ you had were photographs strewn about your TV stand. None of them were framed. They just lay there for you to peruse whenever you wanted to inflict even more emotional damage upon yourself. The old photos of your friends from work and school before the war best served for collecting dust.

There was one that stood out from the rest. It lay on your nightstand, still sheen from its frequent handling.

Delicately, you picked it up, just as you did most nights, and peered down at it.

–

It was the day Tenko Shimura officially started as a pro-hero at the AFO Hero Agency.

He spent the past few years with them as an internship and a work study, but everyone felt that starting there as a graduate was something to be celebrated. So you all made a day of it.

Everyone was there, and the conference room had been decorated and rearranged to better fit the occasion. Several platters of food lined the tables, filling the room with a heavenly aroma that complimented the chatter quite well.

Tenko wasn’t typically one for parties or huge get-togethers, especially when he was the focus, but he was kept from standing idly as people took turns congratulating him. You could tell he was beginning to grow tired of all the socializing.

You chuckled as you stepped up to his side, walking him away from his dying conversation. You watched as he relaxed his tense shoulders and dipped his head back with an airy groan.

“How does it feel being the life of the party?” you snickered.

He glowered at you through his messy, black bangs before placing a gloved hand on your shoulder and giving you a strong shove that sent you stumbling. You cursed as you regained your balance, ready to retaliate but he was already walking away from you.

“Hey!” You trotted back up to him.

“You’re next, you know,” he said, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You tilted your head to the side, “To be the focus of a party?”

“To join the agency,” he corrected. “When you graduate, you’d better.”

“Oh, of course.” You grinned at him before narrowing your eyes slightly. “But only if you promise to stick around until then.”

“I’m planning on it,” he chuckled, “Unless you piss me off.”

It was your turn to jab at him, but, unlike you, he kept his balance, barely even stepping to the side.

The two of you found a secluded place to sit and chat idly but it was mostly filled with a comfortable silence as you scrolled on your phones. You were only granted a few minutes of social reprieve before Magne came looking for you.

“Are you two aware that the party isn’t out here?” she said, crossing her arms like a disappointed mother.

You and Tenko exchanged a glance, but neither of you said a word.

“Get your asses in there!” She scolded, shepherding the two of you back to the celebration. “We’re taking a group picture.”

Everyone crowded together. You were pushed up against Tenko’s side, and the two of you felt Iguchi drop his arms onto your shoulders. He stood behind you, still clearly visible between your heads, and Toga latched herself onto your free arm. Touya lurked on the very edge of the group while Compress took on a dramatic pose to ensure his theatrics would be captured for all of eternity.

One of Jin’s doubles positioned himself in front of everyone, partially crouched down and shuffling this way and that in order to get the perfect angle.

He didn’t have to tell you to say ‘cheese’ to get you to grin from ear-to-ear.

You felt Tenko’s gloved hand press against the small of your back as the camera flashed, immortalizing the occasion.

–

Seeing everybody grinning back at you in the photo four years later made your heart ache in many ways. You were happy that you possessed that memory as well as a picture to always remind you of it. But you were also tormented by the fact that it would never be recreated.

Unfortunately, plans didn’t always come to fruition.

When you started as a pro-hero at the agency, the world was in too much chaos to celebrate. And even if you held a celebration once everything settled down, Tenko wouldn’t be there to congratulate you.

In spirit, maybe.

When you really thought about it, almost everyone would be missing.

Magne had passed many years ago, when your team was assigned to the Overhaul-Eri case. The war took away Jin, Touya, Sensei, and, of course, Tenko. Iguchi would have stuck around long enough, but Atsuhiro was forced into retirement when the war first started.

In a way, the villains got what they wanted. Countless heroes were decommissioned, and those who remained were no longer viewed in the same positive light as they once were. Criticism was high if a hero couldn’t carry out a job flawlessly and without any casualties. Even then, you were always at risk of being deemed a ‘fame-chaser’ or that you were only in it for the money.

The only heroes that remained were the honest and the resilient.

You liked to think you were both, but as time went on, you grew more unsure. In the beginning, you were more than eager to make a positive impact on people’s lives, regardless of whether or not you were credited or paid for it. Eventually, you met everyone at your agency, and hero work changed your life for the better. Even if you failed a job, you had people by your side to pick you back up and keep you pushing forward.

But now?

Now, you were tired.

You no longer had your support system keeping you motivated and in good spirits. While you still felt pleased with every life you protected, that feeling of fulfillment would be gone by the time your head touched your pillow.

That’s where you were at currently.

With a deep sigh, you let go of the photograph, letting it fall back onto the nightstand, and rolled onto your back to stare at the ceiling. You shut your eyes, but you knew it would be hours before you actually fell asleep. You would either sleep the day away or you’d barely sleep at all. Rarely could you find a balance between the two.

Usually, you would stay up thinking about how everything ended up the way it did, and whether there was anything you could have done to prevent it all from happening. What could you possibly have done so that your team would still be at your side?

If you were split up differently during the Overhaul raid so that you were in Magne’s group, you could have pushed her out of the way of Chisaki’s fatal touch. If you had stuck by Jin’s side instead of letting him go into the Paranormal Liberation Front’s headquarters alone, you could have fought off Hawks before he landed his deadly blow.

And Tenko…

You’d probably have to end the war all on your own in order to save him. He was at the forefront of every battle, leading the charge. He had no regard for his own safety. He gave up his own body so that Mr. Shigaraki could transfer his quirk and conscience to it. You’re pretty sure that was the point of no return.

After that, you don’t think anything that came out of Tenko’s mouth was truly him.

Whether or not he could even hear you scream and cry for him in the final moments of the war would remain a mystery.

The heels of your hands pressed deeply against your eyes as if you could physically push the thoughts out of your head. You couldn’t do this tonight. You needed to do something, anything, other than lay there and dwell on things of the past.

How could you have known what was to come?

Throwing off your covers, you ripped the last garments from your person and got up to change into something clean and dry. You had to get out of your sad and dingy little apartment. You wiggled your way into a spare hero suit after deciding that lending a helping hand for the night was your best chance at clearing your head.

You made your way back to your agency as quickly as you could through the frigid rain. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were summer time, since the warmth would typically counteract it, but you still had a few months of spring to get through. By the time you arrived, you were a bit damp, but you found it hard to care. Pulling your keycard out of your wallet, you tapped into the system so you could get in.

Even though it was late, there were still a few people around in case of emergency, and none of them were surprised to see you stroll in. Two of them were people you had graduated with, though they did their work studies elsewhere.

“Hiya,” Minji, a pink-haired and bubbly girl, sang to you in greeting. She was sitting alert at her desk, ready for whatever report came her way.

“Hi,” you nodded, walking over to her.

Another girl you attended school with was lounging in the space adjacent to hers, leaning back as far as her chair would allow, both feet propped up on the desk. Her head turned over in your direction before she acknowledged you, “Need something to do?”

“If you have anything,” you said with a shrug.

“I think Sakiko got a call-in just a few minutes ago requesting a hero to accompany the transport of a villain,” Minji chimed with a soft smile, eyes darting over to her companion.

“Uh, yeah. Let me get the details on that,” Sakiko mumbled as she kicked her feet off of the desk and scooted closer to search through her computer. “Yeah, so the police want to transport a villain to a higher security prison… His name is Dai Uchuu. He was involved with Overhaul during the raid, but he was able to escape, and there’ve been no updates on his activity since. We also don’t have any official documentation but his quirk is believed to be a teleportation-type triggered by his hands making contact with each other.”

“Sure, that works. Send me the address, and let them know I’ll be there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The station wasn’t too far from the agency. You walked for maybe ten minutes before you could see its lit-up sign at the end of the block. There was a brief flicker but it recovered almost immediately. However, the lights within the station began to spasm on and off, which was slightly more concerning.

The police relied mainly on quirk-nullifying restraints and cells to prevent breakouts. If they were having issues with the power, then the nullification effects would likely be down, and that would be quite the problem.

You quickened your pace and rushed into the building. The first thing you noticed was the plethora of odd objects that had been thrown about the lobby. There was a bicycle on top of the desk, a canoe sticking out from one of the doorways, and a large tub of paint that was actively rolling across the floor, leaving a trail of blue behind it. You could see a large splatter on the wall where you assumed it had made contact.

The second thing you noticed was the silence. Despite the apparent chaos, not a single cop was in sight. You couldn’t even hear any voices emanating from adjacent rooms. There was no one.

You briefly reported the situation to your agency through the communicator strapped to your forearm and cautiously proceeded onto the other rooms. The holding area and the locker rooms were empty and in similar condition to the lobby. You were about to say the same for the offices, but you noticed a quiet murmur coming from behind one of the far desks.

In a slight crouch and with light feet, you slinked in that direction. As you peered around one of the desks, you saw the villain, Uchuu, still dressed in his medieval garb. His colorful back was turned to you as he rummaged through a filing cabinet. The quirk-nullifying restraints dangled from one of his wrists. One of the officers must have gotten that on him after he had a go at most of the building.

But then why hadn’t you run into him?

You silently reached forward and cast your quirk, causing his clothes to freeze him in place. As you walked forward, he began to snicker. You faltered a step at his odd behavior.

“Of course you would be the one to show up,” he spoke with a strange accent.

“I guess?” You positioned yourself in front of him. You wouldn’t be able to attach the restraint he had on to his other wrist due to it being frozen along with him, so you pulled out one of the few that you carried. “What happened to everyone?”

You reached forward to attach the new set of cuffs, but as you did, you caught sight of the file he was holding.

Was that your name?

The cabinet he was going through was supposed to contain criminal profiles. Just as you were about to question how and why he had one that was addressed to you, you felt a sharp pain on the back of your hand.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” You jerked away and were about the curse the man out for fucking pinching you, before processing the fact that he was standing up. Your surprise had caused you to release your quirk, freeing him.

“What a fortunate turn of events this has been,” he drawled with a wicked grin. You narrowed your eyes and raised your arm to use your quirk again, but before you could, his hands clapped together.

You felt your entire body lurch forward, and for a moment, everything was black.

You figured you must have blinked because it was only a second before you could see clearly again. A wave of nausea began crawling its way up your belly, but you did your best to ignore the feeling while you frantically looked around.

It took you a moment to realize that Dai Uchuu was no longer in front of you. The filing cabinet was closed and no more papers were littering the floor. He must have gotten what he was looking for and bolted… Were you seeing black for longer than you realized?

If he clapped his hands, he must have tried using his quirk but he still had a restraint around one of his wrists. That should have been enough to still subdue his quirk, so he had to be around somewhere.

You quickly made to leave, almost bumping into an officer who was standing up from his desk. He shouted after you, and you gave a clipped apology but kept on your pursuit. As you entered the lobby, you almost ran head first into another officer and had to pause to move out of her way. She didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry though.

“Do you know which way he went?” you quickly asked her as you began walking backwards towards the exit of the building.

She looked perplexed, doing a double take of you. “Who? What were you doing in that area?”

He must not have gone that way otherwise, given his outlandish appearance, she surely would have remembered. That meant he would still be in the building.

“That’s where I found Dai Uchuu. He was going through some of the criminal records but he managed to get away,” you explained, slowly walking back towards her. “I’m not sure what he was looking for, but I’m guessing—”

“Who are you?”

What?

“I’m the hero assigned to your case,” you said matter-of-factly. “You guys sent in a request for help, so I came.”

She jerked her head back, scrutinizing you. “We didn’t—”

“Listen, if you didn’t see him come this way, he must still be in the building. You guys should look for him here, and I’ll check outside in case he found some other way out,” you said as you began a quick pace into the lobby.

They made quick work of cleaning up, because all of the foreign objects that were thrown about when you’d arrived were nowhere to be seen. You noticed even the giant paint splatter was gone. Actually, the entire place looked spotless of even normal dirt and wear-and-tear. Maybe you should’ve hired them to clean up your apartment for you.

The room erupted in clamor as you booked it outside. It was a lot clearer out without the rain, but you still couldn't see any sign of the villain. Leaving it up to intuition, you started sprinting down the road to your left as you updated your agency through your communicator with a request for more heroes to help search.

You were barely running for a minute before you began feeling overheated. There was no way you were that tired already, you didn’t go through all that training for nothing. Then, you realized it wasn’t your body that was too warm, it was the air around you. Not even ten minutes ago, you were freezing your ass off as you trudged to the station in the rain. Now, it felt like the temperature outside was pushing 70 degrees.

Someone had to be controlling the weather. Quirks like that were rare, but not unheard of. Either way, that was somebody else’s problem. You were a little preoccupied at the moment.

You were growing irritated that you hadn’t heard anything from your colleagues. Minji was usually super responsive. She must have stepped away and left Sakiko in charge, which would explain the lack of urgency on their end.

Your pace began to slow as your energy grew more and more depleted.

Your end of the search was proving to be pointless. You passed a run-down convenience store when you decided it would be best to head back to the station to see if the police were fruitful. You heard the chime of the shop’s bell too late, turning on your heel to retrace your steps and crashing into someone as they were exiting.

You jostled back.

There were two people, and your collision caused them to drop their bags, scattering the contents. You crouched down to help them pick up whatever had fallen, hoping they didn’t have any paper products for the rain-soaked ground to get soggy.

Your eyebrows pressed together as you picked up a messy handful of napkins. You looked down at the sidewalk and pressed your hand against it.

It was bone dry.

That couldn’t be right, there’s no way the water would have evaporated that quickly.

You couldn’t ponder the strange occurrence for long as the shoe of one of the people stepped closer to you. Hurriedly, you scooped as many items back into the bag as you could and peered up at them with an apologetic smile. They were already reaching toward you with an open hand. It was a bit too close to your face for your liking, so you leaned away as you stood.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” You pushed the bag into their hand and finally looked at the person’s face to see it was mostly covered by a black face mask and a hood. Despite that, peeking through a plume of dusty blue hair was a pair of fiery red eyes that felt as if they were burning through your soul.

♡ ♡ ♡

➨ Chapter Two

taglist: @boogiemansbitch

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fredwkong · 1 year

Text

Gateway Drug

You had always had fantasies about marijuana. The DARE officer had described the sensation of being stoned, the desire to do nothing but get stoned again. He’d scared you deeply, scarred you, even. You’d never even gotten close to buying any, terrified that you would… what? Enjoy it?

Now, here you were. It was legal, and not only that, the psychiatrist had told you it would help with your anxiety. You had walked into the dispensary and walked out with a product, and the world hadn’t ended.

The clerk had handed you three pre-rolled blunts, and said that they were guaranteed to ease you into getting stoned. He’d had a strange smile on his face as he’d said it, but you had been so anxious that you hadn’t registered it. You’d barely been able to get a word out faced with him: a laid-back, blissed-out stoner who stank of skunk and body odour.

You hurried home and got ready. You laid out some of your favourite snacks on your obsessively clean counter, and tidied everything away. You thought about dusting a second time, but realised you were delaying. You tugged down your scratchy polo shirt and wiped your sweating hands on your pressed khakis.

With shaking fingers, you flicked on a lighter and lit one of the blunts. As soon as the smell of the smoke hit your nose, you felt yourself loosen up. It didn’t smell so bad.

You took a hit and resisted the urge to cough. By the time you breathed the smoke out, you were already starting to feel relaxed. Your polo shirt loosened into a soft, old band tee, and your khakis became a pair of worn sweatpants. As you took a second hit, the smell of weed embedded itself in your pores and the fabric of your clothes, filling your whole awareness.

With the weed hitting you, you started to sink deeper into the couch, which had just been a new Ikea loveseat but was swiftly becoming a beat-up, stained, broken-in sofa with a dent for your thickening ass. Your head, facial, and body hair grew out sloppily, greasy with unwashed sweat and oil. The smell of weed mixed with the growing scent of your unwashed, musky bod.

You took another slow hit, and your slow, stoned brain sent you a new idea: you started to strip off your musky, threadbare T-shirt and wiggle out of your sweatpants. It felt great to get naked in the comfort of your own home. The cool air tingled against your oily skin as you settled back onto the couch. You wiggled your long toes against the carpet, enjoying the sensation against the oily digits.

The growing cloud of pot smoke briefly obscured your vision, and when it drifted away your apartment was transformed into a proper stoner den. The couch faced a wide-screen TV with a full shelf of gay porn under it. The floor was covered in dirty clothes and trash you were too lazy and stoned to pick up. In the kitchen, the grungy counter was covered in empty takeout containers, and the sink full of dishes. The bed in the opposite corner wasn’t even visible under piles of clothes that might have been clean or might have been dirty.

Your body changed, too. Rather than being slender and weedy, you were now softer, shorter, and definitely hairier. You scratched your hairy balls as you alternated between tokes on the blunt and sniffs of your rancid armpit. At this point, your dick got more than interested, standing to attention and beginning to spurt jets of pre from your big stoner ballsac. Getting stoned always got you horny. And you were always getting stoned, so you were always horny. The rich smell of your uncut dick mingled with the stench of weed.

As you took the last few hits from the blunt, expertly smoking it right down to your fingers, you started to jack off, using your ample precum like lube. As you leaned back and moaned in a deep, blissed-out voice, your collection of bongs and other weed paraphernalia appeared on the coffee table in front of you, the only place you cared about keeping tidy. You shot a huge load all over your naked pecs and belly, which you rubbed into your thick hair as you discarded the spent blunt in an ashtray.

You grabbed a half-finished bag of cheetos from the kitchen counter and lay back down on the couch, scrolling Grindr and wondering if the hot clerk from the dispensary was available to bottom. Then you remembered the pack of three blunts he had given you. Your previous life was like a distant dream in the back of your mind, but you knew just enough to wonder if two of your old, uptight dude friends might want to come over and try some of your special weed.

It was a gateway drug, after all.

#male transformation #stoner tf #dumber tf #musk tf #reality change #mental change #male tf #all fwkong

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loudblonde · 2 years

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male Reader

Summary: Simon and his husband have a fight that makes (Y/N) leave in the middle of the night for a drive, unbeknownst to Simon he gets kidnapped along the way, as Simon rushes to save (Y/N) he discovers many hidden things about his husband that no one was supposed to know.

Disabled reader, wears a leg brace due to a work accident.

Warnings: Cod typical violence, reader with military past, miscomunication, kidnapping, skiing accidents.

word count: 2 K

+18 themes, minors do not interact

Simon placed his glass down harsher then he should, juice spilled over the edge of it. “I am not being reckless.” He said.

(Y/N) glanced over from where he was cleaning up the kitchen, Simon had cooked so (Y/N) always insisted on cleaning, the other way around applied as well, one cooked one cleaned.

“You were shot 3 times and are now on leave until you are good enough to go back, one of the bullets missed a main artery by a few millimeters.” (Y/N) didn’t bother hiding the clear anger in his voice. “I could have lost you, Simon.”

Simon looked away. “I did what I had to, everyone got back safe.”

“But you didn’t, you would go on the next mission right now if Price called you in, I made my peace with that, I will always wait and you know that but 3 bullets, Simon.” He said.

Simon winced at the use of his name, (Y/N) rarely ever used his actual name over any shortened version of his name or pet name. “I get you are angry.”

“Oh do you?” (Y/N) asked as he placed things away. “Because I recall you almost breaking your arm and being sent on forced leave by Price just last month because he was concerned about you.”

“The mission-” “-wasn’t that bad, I get it, more than you realise. I-” (Y/N) interrupted only to get interrupted himself. “-You don’t know anything about being out in the field, you work a desk job because your youth was filled with spoiled trips to austria to ski in the mountains and you got too reckless as a young adult.” Simon said, not thinking about his words.

(Y/N) looked down at his leg, the brace on it and how the injury still hurt, it wasn’t that story but not Simon nor Ghost would ever find out about the true reason for it, that mission was classified beyond anything most people would ever see, a mission gone right despite the casualties and soldiers who were forced to retire early, (Y/N) included.

Seething hot anger flashed through (Y/N) but he took a breath. “I am going for a drive, we need milk.” (Y/N) didn’t look back, knowing Simon, his Simon was already regretting his words, this conversation or rather this fight was far too common for the both of them to have, everytime Simon came home with too bad of an injury or from being too reckless. Price always called him, always told him how the mission had gone.

(Y/N) grabbed his keys and jacket before getting into the car, pulling his injured leg in, it would never fully heal, it would always ache on good days and be too painful to even touch or look at on bad days. He had more bad days than good days.

(Y/N) drove to the gas station across town, without really needing to, they didn’t even need milk but that was always the excuse, always the reason. (Y/N) usually made some kind of cake with it the next day, if he could walk.

As (Y/N) excited the car and filled it up, a van pulled up besides his car, on the pump on the other side, he didn’t pay attention, simply finished pumping the gas before he looked to the side where a man was standing with a gun, pointed straight at him. (Y/N) scowled and held his hands up. “If you want my wallet I don’t have one, only my card.”

“Get in the van, Mister Riley.” Simon and him had gotten married earlier in the year, something small at the courthouse.

“No.” (Y/N) said as he knew he could take a bullet wound, not that he wanted to. It would drastically decrease his chances of survival.

He felt a gun pointed at his back. “My partner didn’t say you had a choice.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, he couldn’t handle both with his leg after that drive, it would not end well, he would get killed, but going along with them would also get him hurt. He made a quick decision and nodded. “Alright, please don’t hurt me.” He whimpered, fully satisfied with how convincing it sounded. The men placed a hood over his face and cuffed his hands before putting him in the van and taking off.

‘Okay, people taken to a secondary location always have a decreased chance of surviving, however they are most likely enemies of Simon who don’t know about me… Depending on how many there are I can get out… hopefully.’ (Y/N) thought as he started fake crying and whimpering, he needed to act scared even if he wasn’t being watched.

Simon knew something was wrong when half an hour passed and (Y/N) hadn’t come back home, though for the sake of making sure, he waited 10 more minutes before calling his husband, no matter what, no matter how angry (Y/N) always answered, Simon never wanted his past or an enemy catching up again, he couldn’t handle losing more people. Not again, not like his family.

When it kept ringing and went to voicemail, Simon cursed and called Price. It was picked up quickly. “Ghost, what the hell do you want it near midnight.” Price said.

“(Y/N) isn’t answering the phone.”

Price cursed on the other end. “How many minutes since you last saw him?”

“40 but he should have been back between 10 and 20 minutes ago, we had a fight, Price, I… I was… I can’t…”

“I know Simon, I will contact Laswall, see what we can do on our end, you can’t do much on your own, you are still injured, so stay steady and have your phone ready.” Price hung up.

Simon just sat still for hours, staring at his phone before it rung, (Y/N)’s face and toothy smile showed up. Simon lunged at his phone and picked up. “(Y/N) I-” “-I am afraid this isn’t your husband.” A voice interrupted, someone Ghost was too familiar with.

“What do you want?” Ghost asked.

“I will send you my7 location where you will show up, alone and unarmed, if you get that pretty little team of yours involved I will slice your husband's throat and send you a video before letting the rats feed on his corpse.” The man said.

Ghost growled. “Fine.” He said.

“Don’t do it Si!” Ghost could hear in the background of the call only for (Y/N) to cry out in pain. Simon’s blood ran cold as the call hung up. He just needed to get there. 20 minutes passed and he got a location, a factory a few hours out of town. He got into his car and took off, not even thinking to inform the team.

His emotions were numb and he wasn’t wearing his mask, yet he kept going, he couldn’t stop, if there was ever even a chance of saving (Y/N), of not making the same mistake again, he would take it, he would always take it. Their fight played in his mind over and over again, torturing him as he drove, he vaguely registered the music in the radio as something upbeat.

It was early morning when he came to the old factory, he vaguely registered the open door and vehicles parked outside as he walked straight up the door and inside, to his shock, bodies upon bodies of people laid spread out as though a fight had broken out, blood covered large areas of the factory floor. His blood turned ice cold as he ran inside, hoping to find (Y/N) alive only to find a chair with robe by the back, loosely tied together, whoever did this underestimated the prisoner.

Simon pulled his phone out as it began vibrating. He answered. “Ghost here.”

“... Ghost, come to base, (Y/N) is here… there is something you need to know. He is alive, injured but alive.”

Simon let go of a deep breath. “I… how did he even get there… car probably, erm, I will get there.” The base was a few hours away. He hung up and drove in silence to the base, barely even registering anything. He was confused but also relieved, the only man he had ever loved enough to fully see Simon, to make Ghost into Simon again, had somehow escaped and was at his base, the base no one was supposed to know about. Things weren’t adding up.

He drove onto base and got out, not remembering a mask, not even thinking about a goddamn mask.

He walked past a confused Soap and Gaz, ignoring them gaping at them as he walked to Price’s office, knocking before he entered. In one of the chairs, a heavily beaten up and bruised (Y/N) sat and Price, with a dark look in his eyes, was sitting behind his desk. “I will let you talk.” Price said and left.

Simon sat down and looked to (Y/N) who refused to meet his gaze. “What happened?” Simon asked.

(Y/N) winced before looking ahead. “4 years ago I was in a skiing accident that left me paralysed in both my legs, it took me a year and experimental surgery to get feeling back in them though one is permanently broken.” (Y/N) began.

“Yes I know this..” Simon said.

“It wasn’t hobby skiing. I was a soldier in a mission I can’t tell anyone about, not even my most trusted person, 2 teams of 20 people each, including a team of 3 were dispatched to take out a base of enemies that were holding high value targets.” (Y/N) didn’t look at Ghost. “Out of the 43 people, 10 of us made it out alive, the place was rigged with trap after trap, I was amongst the many injured on the way back, we successfully managed to get 4 out of 6 hostages with us.”

“You were forced to retire.” Simon said and looked away. “Were you reckless?”

(Y/N) shook his head. “No, I wasn’t, we were safe as we could be, yet I was paralysed, nearly died.” (Y/N) sighed. “I am sorry Si, for never saying this or telling you anything but I couldn’t, sure I could talk bootcamp and my various deployments but after I got onto a task force every single mission became confidential, much like your missions and then with my forced retirement, it just wasn’t something I looked back on with you. I lost a lot of good friends that week, a lot of really close allies. I had been out for a year and a half before we even met.”

Simon looked away. “Was anything else right? Or has everything been a lie?”

“You met my actual family, my mother does love you and even they don’t know much about my work, hell, they think after bootcamp and my deployments that I enlisted in a private security company in austria and on my off day, I got into an accident.” He said. “Except my cousin, she knows the truth because of her work.”

“Right, the medic, understandable…” Simon said and looked to the man he once trusted above all else. Someone who had promised to be there for him always, no matter what. His whole perception of the man had been a lie. “You made me teach you self defence.” Simon mused.

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah… that day is among my fondest, you wanting me to be able to protect myself with you away, it did actually help last night.” (Y/N) said. “I wouldn’t have gotten out this lucky if it wasn’t for it… I am sorry for lying, Simon but you must understand, I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Simon took his hand and gave him a small smile. “For better or for worse.”

(Y/N) leaned over and kissed Simon's cheek. “Your captain is a real scary man.” He said and chuckled. “Laswell had to clear me for him, she found my discharge papers.”

“Hmm, honourable discharge with a file that is mostly redacted.” Simon said. “Sounds like my future file.”

“Well I do like the sound of that, planning for a future with me, eh?” (Y/N) said.

Simon smiled a bit more. “You are the only reason I want to grow old.”

(Y/N)’s smile softened. “I love you too, Si.”

#ghost #simon riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x male reader #simon 'ghost' riley #simon riley x male reader #husband reader #cod men x male reader #cod x male reader

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sillybucket · 1 year

Text

“They won’t look at me” { Jonathan Ohnn/Spot x g/n reader }

I just love writing for this character , so I decided to make another little story featuring the Spot :D

As always I apologize for possible ooc moments , and if someone already wrote about something similar know that it’s not my intention to copy anyone !

🍃 Warnings 🍃 : there is some angst in this one … basically , Johnathan and the reader have a talk with his parents some time after his transformation , and unfortunately it doesn’t go well for the poor guy ;(

☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ .

The room was alarmingly quiet , the sound of the clock on the wall and the traffic outside were the only things that interrupted the silence as the four people in the kitchen sat in front of each other …

The tension was palpable , Jonathan could feel the judgmental , baffled looks his parents occasionally gave him , and when (y/n) held his hand to comfort him he looked back at them with genuine gratitude before taking a deep breath .

“So uh … mom , dad , how have you been doing ?”

, he timidly asked , desperate to end that suffocating silence in some way .

“Business has been going well . My technological inventions are on high demand , so that’s something .”

Jonathan’s father averted his eyes from his son while answering his question , almost like he just couldn’t handle to look at his face …

“If that’s all you wanted to know you might as well leave now , we’re both busy and really don’t have any time to lose .”

Jonathan let out a sigh , trying to get his thoughts in order while (y/n) stared at his dad in disbelief :

he couldn’t be serious … sure , Lucas Ohnn was a very important scientist with a reputation to protect , but treating a member of his own family in such a cold , distant way simply because he looked different was simply unacceptable .

“I … just wanted to pass by to see if you were okay , and to let you know that you don’t have to worry about me : it hasn’t been easy , but I’ve been doing my best to rebuild my life after … after all that’s happened . Also I wanted to introduce you to my partn -“

“Mhm , that’s great Johnny … are you sure nobody saw you enter our house ?”

, Miss Ohnn asked , without even looking up from her phone .

“You’re right , Carol . What will the neighbors think if they see … that … inside our property ? They might start to think that we’re giving shelter to some strange creature , and that would be inconvenient …”

After hearing those words (y/n) stood up , unable to listen any further …

“Strange creature ? Are you serious ? That’s your son , Mister Ohnn ! You used to talk to him just a few months ago , you said you were proud of him for all his hard work at Alchemax and now you have the audacity to say something like that ? Right in front of him ?”

Everyone in the room now had their eyes pointed at them as they continued talking .

“This the same Jonathan you used to know , and just because his appearance changed you can’t just treat him like th -“

“(Y/n) , it’s okay …”

Jonathan had gotten up as well , gently putting his hand on their shoulder .

“Let’s just go .”

The two of them slowly headed towards the door , and before leaving he turned back to look at his parents one last time …

“Bye mom , bye dad … don’t worry , you won’t see me again .”

The late afternoon sun was starting to set as the two of them walked hand in hand back to (y/n)’s apartment .

“I’m sorry , I shouldn’t have reacted like that … it’s just - what your dad said … I couldn’t tolerate the way he was talking to you .”

Jonathan smiled softly to himself , squeezing their hand a little .

“There’s nothing to apologize for , honey … you’re always looking out for me , and I love you so much for that .

They were probably going to make us leave soon anyway .”

He then let out a sigh , his voice trembling slightly as he tried to go on …

“… I knew that this would end this way , that my parents weren’t going to accept that this is who I am now … but it just kinda hurt , y’know ?

They’re the only family I have left and they couldn’t even look at me for more than a few seconds .

I really do mean nothing to them …”

(Y/n) quietly listened to him , and when they finally stopped after reaching the apartment’s door they wrapped their arms around him , holding him in a loving hug .

“Well … you mean everything to me , Johnny . No matter what your parents think you’re definitely still someone worth loving , and believe me when I say that my life wouldn’t be the same without you in it .”

They looked up at him , gently caressing his cheek .

Jonathan wanted to say so many things in that moment … how much he appreciated them , how happy he was to have them in his life …

His arms surrounded their waist while he placed his forehead against theirs .

“God , I really don’t know what I’d do without you (y/n) …”

, he whispered , genuine adoration in his voice as he got lost into his partner’s beautiful eyes .

The two of them stood there for a few minutes , enjoying each other’s comforting warmth until finally (y/n) took out their house keys from their pocket and opened the door :

after such a stressful afternoon , all that Jonathan and (y/n) wanted to do was just lie down somewhere comfortable and rest in each other’s arms , forgetting about all their worries .

☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ .

Thank you so much for reading this little story until the end ! :D

Feel free to leave some feedback if you want to :) ❤️

#across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse x reader #atsv x you #atsv the spot #atsv x reader #the spot x reader #atsv #the spot #jonathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn x reader

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samgirl98 · 1 year

Text

Mending a Family 30/?

Prev | Next

Avril is back, and she's here to make Jason angry.

Jason took out the chocolate chip scones from the oven. He used Alfred’s recipe, so he knew they would be a big hit. They were flaky on the outside and soft and moist on the inside.

The first PTA meeting had come and gone. They were going to do a fundraiser and auction to help raise money to get the school more books, new computers, and better instruments for the kids. Jason signed up to make the scones.

He missed Alfie, and this was a way to have his grandfather close to him.

Jason breathed a sigh of relief when the last batch was on the cooling rack. He had been up since five in the morning making a hundred and fifty scones. Hopefully, they would sell. If not, he could donate what didn’t.

He sat down and let his head fall on the table.

“You’re done?” Jazz asked.

“Yeah,” he said without raising his head. Jazz had volunteered to drop off Danny and pick him up. She was also going to watch him while he was at the fundraiser.

Jazz hummed and then put something by him. He raised his head to find a glass of iced tea. He drank it happily.

“I met your friend Avril. She’s quite the character.”

Jason frowned at the mention of the blonde woman. She had tried to humiliate Jason in the first PTA meeting. When he had signed up for the fundraiser, and she saw he had put down scones, she laughed at his face and point blank told him that the fundraiser bakery had to be done by the parents, not store-bought. Jason had to sell more than her. For the kids, of course.

“She’s not my friend,” he muttered.

Jazz hummed and looked at Jason with knowing eyes. Why did he feel he was being dissected all of a sudden?

“Don’t let her get to you. She’s not worth it. People like her need to find victims to feel better. It’s best to ignore them.”

Jason said nothing. He refused to be anyone’s victim. Not again. Especially a PTA mom.

“Don’t let her get under your skin, Jason.”

Danny ran into the kitchen before Jason could say anything.

“Those smell good, daddy. Can I have one?”

“Not those, chum, they’re for the PTA fundraiser. I made some earlier just for us.”

Jason got a bowl covered with a cloth from the top of the fridge and put it in front of his vibrating son. Danny struck like a snake, getting a scone and stuffing it in his face.

“Wowb, dabby, dese are sooo good.”

“Danny, don’t eat with your mouth full,” Jazz scolded the little boy, “you can choke.”

“You like them, Danny?”

Danny nodded as he got another one. Jason couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he should bake more often. His little boy seemed to like the scones. Why not make other things Alfred had taught him?

Well, thoughts for another day.

Jason packed the scones in boxes he bought and put them in his car. He kissed Danny goodbye and waved at Jazz.

“Thanks for watching Danny for me. I’ll be back by ten, I hope.”

“No problem, Jay. He’s my little brother, after all. Don’t let her get to you, and keep a cool head!”

Jason pouted at Jazz’s remark. So what if when he got angry, things tended to smoke? He’d gotten a better handle on his fire powers thanks to Raven’s tips on handling his emotions.

“Bye, daddy, love you!”

Jason smiled at his son, “Love you, too, chum.”

Jason made it to school in record time. He looked for his table and noticed it was the farthest from the entrance. He frowned, likely a ploy from Avril. He refused to let that get to him, though, and he started setting things up.

Then, the she-devil herself entered the room.

“Just set the baskets down here,” she told some guys carrying ribbed baskets, and Jason could see red gingham peeking out. He decided to ignore her and went back to setting up his table.

Jason ignored the chatter going on around him.

Ever since his transformation, his hearing had gotten better, and he could listen to every conversation if he wanted to. It had taken a while to learn to control the volume. He was vaguely listening toward Avril’s table when he heard ‘blueberry scones.’

“It’s a recipe that has been handed down for generations now,” she bragged.

He looked up, and lo and behold, she had, indeed, brought scones. Avril looked straight into his eyes and smiled at him.

Jason felt heat rising from his chest to his face. He glared at the woman’s table, wishing he could burn it to the ground. Smoke started rising from her tablecloth. Jason looked away and took deep breaths. No, he couldn’t burn down the school just because Avril was being a bitch. Thankfully, nobody had noticed the smoke.

Jason took a look again and saw her scones. They didn’t look good.

They were dense and heavy. From where he stood, he noticed the lack of color on them. She must’ve not used cold ingredients, either, because they weren’t flaky at all. He looked down at his and smirked. Avril had wanted to humiliate Jason.

Instead, the opposite happened.

Jason watched throughout the evening as Avril’s smug smile fell. People could see her scones weren’t good, and very few bought them. Jason’s scones sold quickly.

People had come back with family or friends to buy more. In the end, he had run out of scones while Avril still had most of hers in the baskets. Some people had even asked Jason if he baked to sell.

“Unfortunately, no, I don’t.”

“That’s too bad,” a black-haired woman said, disappointed, “I would’ve ordered scones from you for parties I throw.”

Jason laughed. No way was he going to do that. He was exhausted just doing it one day. He couldn’t imagine doing it for a living. (It’s not as if he needed the money, anyway.)

Jason could feel Avril’s glare as he cleared his table. He couldn’t help but throw a smug smirk. That’s what she gets.

Jason spent the rest of the evening walking around before the auction started. He even bought some pastries and little snacks. He was munching on a pretzel when they started announcing the auction.

Jason took a number. He doubted anything would get his attention, but he never knew. He took the list and quickly browsed through it. A romantic package for two, a golf package, a parent getaway package (no way he would ever leave his little boy behind). So far, the list had yet to get his attention.

Hmm, a guitar would be nice to have. Maybe he could pick another hobby.

“I want to thank all the parents who participated in our fundraiser with their baked goods. Special thanks to Avril Dubois for helping us set all this up.”

Jason rolled his eyes as the woman stood up at the applause. Desperate much?

“Now, let’s get on with the auction. Our first item up is the romantic package for two.”

Jason was bored throughout the auction. How had Bruce put up with stuff like this? He halfheartedly bid for the guitar but let the balding guy have it instead. It looked like he needed a win.

Jason was about to leave when the next item came up.

“Our next item is two benches dedicated to the highest bidder. These benches will be made of oak wood and put in the front of the school. Bidding starts at two thousand dollars.”

Avril immediately put up her number.

“Two thousand five hundred.”

Nobody else raised their number. Well, it was pricey—for other people. Jason smiled evilly. Oh, he was about to ruin Avril’s evening even more.

“Three thousand,” he said.

Avril looked back and glared at him. He smirked at her.

“Three thousand five hundred,” she countered.

“Four thousand five hundred.”

She didn’t look back, but Jason saw her back stiffen.

“Five thousand.”

“Five thousand five hundred,” Jason said.

“Well,” the auctioneer said, “it seems we have a bidding war.”

“Ten thousand,” Avril said. She looked back at Jason and smirked. Oh, was that it?

“Fifteen thousand,” Jason countered with an evil smile thrown at the woman. She scoffed and didn’t raise the bid again.

“Fifteen thousand going once, going twice. Sold! To number 34.”

Jason didn’t care about having something under his (fake) name, but by the Ancients, it was nice to see Avril lose.

It was worth it, even as Jazz scolded him for letting Avril get under his skin.

Thanks to this chapter, I now know how to (theoretically) make the perfect scone. Alfred would be proud of Jason's pettiness.

@itsberrydreemurstuff @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks @ender-reader @fuyu-bitch @ravenswife

#Mending a Family #dc x dp #dp x dc

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ao3fics-lost-and-found · 4 months

Note

Hey I’m looking for a supercorp fic I can only remember one scene from it.

Kara and Lena are in a kitchen or lounge room and Kara is wearing pyjamas that Lena had gotten her I think they have an avocado or something printed on them and Lena lifts the avocado up to show that there’s a picture of the two of them underneath it that kara didn’t know about and she’s really happy about it and starts to play with it.

Thank you for any help this scene has been stuck in my head for a week!

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Please, help us find this fic! Leave your suggestions in the comments. Thank you! 🙏😊🦸‍♀️

Edit:

This fic has been found. It's "Hold me like you hate me" by Quokkai.

#supergirl #supercorp #ao3 #fic found

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 10 months

Note

Got an idea

So i had this idea and i understand if you dont do it

so you know how farmer erases memories of people at the shrine?

What if a character (you can choose or do every character if you like) suddenly rememberd some of the past? Will they think it was a dream? Will they hate the farmer ?

I want to hear your opinion

Thank you regardless if you do it or not

Bye bye

Hello-hello! 👋

I decided to write about SDV bachelorette in this ask, hope it's ok. Thank you, and enjoy 😊❤️

_____________________________

Emily:

Emily can't understand why she has the same weird dream. First a stranger stands in some dark place with a stone as beautiful as the heavens, and then two unfamiliar children transform into beautiful doves and fly away from her. No matter how much the blue-haired girl tried to find the meaning in the dreambooks - to no avail. A strange sense of déjà vu occurs when the local Farmer gives her sister a prismatic shard for her birthday. The girl doesn't understand why her sister Haley hates this gift so much. This is a very beautiful stone!

A stone as beautiful as the sky, a stone... The same kind of stone the Farmer gave her when they.... got married?? But it must have been a dream. Wasn't it?

Emily had never felt a strong sense of protecting her sister before. It's... very strange.

Maru:

It's been so long since Maru turned on MarILDA and let her creation go free. And she's so glad her robot didn't forget about her - MarILDA sent a message by fax! Maru no longer remembers if she had set this feature originally or if the robot was able to set itself up, but still. Impatiently, the young inventor pulled a piece of paper from the fax machine and began to read quickly.

"Greetings, creator Maru. I hope your life with your partner Farmer is satisfying you..."

Wait, with who?

What MarILDA is writing about? Farmer's not her partner, she's..... She's.... Why can't she get rid of the idea that she didn't turn on the robot alone? Maru wanted to show it to someone, right? Someone special.

No, that's impossible. She can't have memory lapses like that... Why is Marilda convinced she's married to Farmer? It doesn't make any sense.

Abigail:

"You hit Farmer because you dreamed they were your spouse and betrayed you? Are you serious right now!" Abigail can understand her father's sarcastic tone: hitting people because she was the one who dreamed something there is utter nonsense and unjustified violence. But she knows it wasn't a dream, she knows for sure. Like broken pieces that slowly but surely became part of the whole again - her and Farmer's date, the Mermaid pendant, the wedding, the fight in the house, divorce... Their hidden smirk when they told her they didn't know what Abigail was talking about.

Since her parents wouldn't be able to help her... Well, that just leaves that strange bearded man in the tower. She has to make sure it's not all a sick fantasy.

Penny:

Penny was so happy and truly grateful to the Farmer - they decided to donate her many interesting books, which will definitely be useful for teaching the children. When they invited the young teacher into the house, she couldn't tear herself away from the cozy and beautiful kitchen design. Everything is so cute and comfortable! Not like her trailer room.... That beautiful rug, those lovely flowers, that cozy strawberry decal.

The decal... Strawberries.... That's the...

"A 'Strawberry House' theme? Something warm and inviting, right? I like that too! What a wonderful choice, my love!"

Penny dropped the books from the hands the Farmer handed her. They looked confused at the red-haired girl, whose face was overflowing with horror and tears streaming down her eyes. Without having time to ask her anything, she ran away.

"Huh, what's gotten into her?"

Haley:

"Do you have ponies on the farm?"

Haley felt paralyzed by her own question, addressed to the Farmer. She couldn't explain what it was, but snippets from either a dream or from the past flashed before her eyes:

"So you don't have a pony? Eh, boring..." "Wow! You're not as weak as I thought." "Thanks for finding Grandma's bracelet. I'll never forget that..." "You know, I'm starting to like the smell of green for some reason." "Buy a pony for our farm? Oh, thank you so much, honey! Let me give you a kiss!"

"D o y o u h a v e a p o n y o n y o u r f a r m ?"

The girl doesn't want to ask them about ponies ever again.

Leah:

"Hey-hey, neighbor! Are you home? Can I borrow a glass of hazelnut from you?"

Leah had been standing on the doorstep of the farmhouse for about five minutes now, banging on the door, waiting for the owner. While she was gazing out of boredom at the beautiful fields full of delicious crops, her gaze now stopped at the overflowing trash can. Smashed CDs, old newspaper, soda cans....

A broken wooden toy sticking out of there... with Leah's signature on it. But she didn't make any toys for Farmer, so what does that mea-

"Darling, look what wonderful toys I've made for our future baby. Isn't it wonderful?"

One insignificant detail, her broken toy. A few seconds was enough for the shocked girl to quickly recover...

.....and fly into a pure rage.

With all her might, she threw the cup at the window of their house. When a disgruntled Farmer quickly jumped out at the sound of shattering glass, they were quickly taken aback by the girl's stare. A look full of hatred, anger.

"We need to talk, dear neighbor."

#stardew valley #sdv #thanks for the ask!#sdv abigail #sdv penny #sdv maru #sdv emily #sdv leah #sdv haley #sdv headcanon #sdv headcanons

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alemonyoyo · 9 months

Text

No Country for Young Humans - Chapter 4!

Please read it here! Or read below and leave a kudos or comment <3 <3 Thanks!

LMK if you'd like to be tagged for future updates!

This update is much longer than the others! Hope you enjoy!

Missed the previous chapters? Check out the Masterlist!

Words: 4650

Tags: GN Reader, No use of YN, Slight Enemies to Lovers, Misunderstanding, angst, reader is probably in the wrong for this chapter, everyone is emotional.

Summary: Todays the day. Will you win or will you lose? To be honest, you can't decide which outcome you'd prefer.

Chapter 4 - The Duel: Undertale Yellow OST: 055 - The Wild East

Training with the Feisty Five was no joke. Even if at times they cracked you up, all the shooting, looting and dodging you had to do over the past week had been more than exhausting. Some of the most draining yet exhilarating stuff you’ve done since you jumped down here. The thrill of true adventure, with the safety and comfort of new friends around you, was something you wouldn’t trade.

You had gotten to know the gang a little better, but you had become most acquainted with North Star, to the rest of the group's dismay. During your campaigns through sandstorms and your quests up mountains you had heard small utterances of annoyance. It seems North Star’s original demeanour has been sidetracked in favour of pampering and training… you.

This certainly wasn’t a pleasant surprise, you had liked the rest of the Feisty Five, afterall. You didn’t want to make them feel bad but you had to admit, all the attention from the town and the sheriff no less felt pretty amazing. His obsession with spoiling you with gifts like the revolver, and now a hat and small badge, all made you blush to the others' dismay. His bias was very apparent.

Yet you had continued on through your missions, dodging falling boulders, fixing caved in mine shafts, even wrangling a couple of bandits when necessary! It had brought about a newfound excitement within you. Perhaps adventure wasn’t the monotonous journey you had taken to get to the Wild East, but the fun you were having now with the Feisty Five!

Though, that excitement would come to a raging conclusion today. At around midday, you and North Star were to have your duel (or as he said, “dual”). It was only a week ago that you first fell into the feisty clutches of the Wild East, and back then you had been clawing to leave. But now that you think about it, this place, the Wild East, is one of the only places where every monster has welcomed you with peace and open arms. Not a single attack has been levied against you since your arrival here. And on top of that, you finally found some purpose in your life, to explore and thrill yourself. You didn’t really *want* to leave anymore. You didn’t want to leave the safety and thrill behind. You especially didn’t want to leave North Star.

You pushed the feeling down, pulling your gifted hat off of the kitchen counter within the Feisty Fives dingy settlement. It was brand new when Star gave it to you, though he insists that it was a spare. It was a dark ochre, with a more rounded brim. Not his style, he was the kind for sharper edges. The small badge he had gifted you was that of an honorary deputy! It was golden in colour and had a bright sheen, made of the same sorts of rocks from the mines. You pinned it to your hat, before reaching for the wild revolver. The first gift he pampered you with. Other than the gift of unrelenting attention of course.

Once you had gathered your things, you headed out of the house, the hot air fuming around you as the harsh bright light of the Wild East made attempts to throttle your eyes. Luckily the hats brim was enough to keep them at bay.

You headed over to the saloon, where you knew North Star and the others would be.

It was crowded as you entered, excitement brewed in the air as townsfolk shared their bets over drinks and cards.

“I have faith in the rookie.” You heard one mumble to another,

“C’mon now. Star’s our fearless leader! Ain’t no way a human will topple his streak.” The stranger’s assessment was fair. You had only just started shooting a gun less than a week ago, and now you were going toe to toe with the Sheriff of the Wild East- Winning this duel didn’t seem possible.

Star was across the bar, talking with Ace and Ed. Most likely arguing over the semantics of some hypothetical. Star was known for making outlandish claims he struggled to back up. His “fireball” comment being enough to set you off to that.

Eventually he saw you coming over, meeting your eyes with a smile. Your nervousness was quelled. Perhaps he’d go easy on you today to save your ego.

“Here they are!” He said, the rest of the group turning to you.

“It’s finally the big day.” You heard Mooch chime in from below you,

“Good luck, rookie.” Ed placed a heavy but reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks.” You smiled. You turned back to Star, who was already looking at you once you met your eyes. Up closer, the smile he met yours with was tainted; the corners faltered. Perhaps he was nervous too? He really shouldn’t be. Though you had demonstrated excellent improvement over the past couple of days, your shooting was nowhere near the precision he managed to keep with his every shot.

“Midday is in about 20.” He started, his eyes leaving yours, finding comfort in the other parts of the room, “So get yourself acquainted. We’ll be dualing out by the bell post.” His smile left him.

“Uh, boss?” Moray had piped up, “I’ve been meaning to tell you this. It’s “duel”. Not “dual”.” You looked over at them, expecting to see a haughty smirk, but instead you were met with a genuine look of concern. It seems cowboy grammar was a big deal ‘round these parts.

Star’s expression was blank, he managed out a; “That’s what I said.” Before Ace rebutted;

“You pronounced it with an UA sound instead of an OO sound. C’mon boss.”

“Ahh, tomato potato, what’s the difference!” He replied, an embarrassed teal blush washing lightly across his features. He was cute like this, all flustered.

North Star wouldn’t often let the confident persona of the sheriff down, so you savoured these little moments of genuine frustration, especially how he looked when he was nervous.

“C’mon Star, you know better than anyone how important grammar is for cowboys such as ourselves!” Ed replied, “Otherwise we’d be in for a different kinda game of “quick draw”.” Ed seemed to reminisce upon a truly painful memory, unbeknownst to you.

“That is true, Ed… I hear your concerns.” He pondered thoughtfully. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. This group could be a riot sometimes- And they always seemed so genuine over the smallest of things!

You called a drink over from Dina, and popped the cap on the bar's counter. You took a swing of what Dina has coined as the “Adult Soda”, its sparkling texture trickling down the back of your throat. You took the bottle cap and flung it at Star playfully. It bounced off of his chest, as he looked down with concern. You giggled to yourself at the immediate fear that plagues his features, before his gaze shot up and he laughed with you.

“Always on edge, you are-” You said, “I bet you thought that was a real bullet!”

“I wouldn’t put it past a bandit like you!” He fired the cap your way. It smacked against your shoulder before falling onto the counter.

You held your shoulder in your hand, a false pained expression masking your face, you wheezed in pain. You leant over on the counter, continuing your performance.

“Star- how could you do this to me! Before our *duel* no less!” He smirked at you, walking over to you through his posse as they continued to speak behind him.

He grabbed you by the bicep, pulling you back up from your faux collapse. He tugged you in close,

“Perhaps bandits like you need to be put in your place, hm?” He smirked, his tone low and serious. It would have scared you if it were not for the past week of dorky conversations you had come to know him for.

“Then we’ll settle this later, o’ mighty sheriff.” You teased, flicking his hat up with your fingers. He blushed. “I’ll be heading out to “acquaint myself”, o’ valiant sheriff.” you continued, “Feel free to join me when you gain your confidence back to face me fair and square!” You chuckled before turning on your heel, heading out of the saloon.

The sand beneath you crunched under your feet. The grainy sound was ever so familiar, a simple retread of the damper squelches of Snowdin. It had been a while since you’d seen your other friends; Martlet, Dalv, even that crazy dancing guy. Surely they were okay, but did they know that *you* were too?

As you pondered this, you walked down to where the bell tower was. There was enough space either side of it for around 10 paces. Just enough for what your duel required.

Could you really do this? Let this all go? One shot of some stupid BB gun and the past week with these folks will be like gunpowder in the wind. The same yearning to reach home was vanquished the moment you came here, as if the wild dance throughout the ravenous terrain distracted you from your goals. As if the very path North Star led you down was astray from the one you once walked. Yet you stepped through this uncharted territory with glee, could you really turn back now? Move forward and on to Hotland?

Yet at the same time, you wanted to succeed. You wanted to do well, impress him and the rest of the town with your newfound abilities. You had worked out by now that this whole ordeal drummed up a lot of excitement within the townsfolk, you didn’t want to let them down. Additionally, Star had worked so hard with the others to train you to be where you were, it’d be a dismissal of all this work if you couldn’t pull through with this duel!

As the conflict began to spiral into something other than a figment of your mind, a sizeable crowd came bumbling out of the saloon, carrying with them the swarm of chatter.

“It’s time! I can’t wait to see this.”

“And old style duel, huh? Ol’ North Star loves to treat us.” Their words washed together when the crowd became more dense; an amoebic clump.

You noticed that among the crowd even stood, on one pegged leg, Blackjack. Seems even the old annoyed man had time to come out and witness this event. The pressure was settling in.

The Feisty Five met you at the bell post, emerging from within the large crowd, who formed an arc around the bell tower to spectate. The posse especially seemed excited.

“So, it’s finally time.” You heard the familiar voice from beside you.

“Yep.” You replied, a little flatly. North Star walked out into the centre of the makeshift duelling ground. You followed in tow.

“Alright everyone!” He yelled out, everyone went quiet. The townsfolk’s eyes were glued to him, so uncharacteristically attentive. “In case this is yer first rodeo, I’ll go over the ground rules!” You look out into the crowd, the large group making your head whirl with dread. So many people watching- “We will both take a BB gun, and face back to back.” North Star started with the rules. You only half listened as your eyes located a familiar blue feather within the crowd. Martlet! She had come to watch you! Word must have gotten out about this Human vs Monster duel. Either that, or one of the Feisty Five had the decency to invite her. “We will then march ten paces, and Moray will yell “draw”. The first to shoot after “draw” is the winner!” As he finished the simple instructions, the crowd cheered with anticipation and excitement. The billowing sounds of their yells and whistles clouding your head.

“So let’s just get started! Mooch, provide our rookie with the designated tool.” Mooch walked over to you, fumbling on her small, stocky legs. You reluctantly handed her your revolver, knowing that it was not in safe hands. She handed you a BB gun that felt far more like the toy gun you had abandoned to Stars devices. Far lighter without the weight of a quick death on its trigger.

Mooch ran off with the gun, before Moray neatly snatched it off of her.

“I ain’t lettin’ you run off with this, Mooch.” They responded.

As you were receiving your weapon, Ace had handed North Star a pair of safety glasses adorned with blue flames on either side of the frames. Ace handed you a pair, this one with red flames. That was more your style anyway. You put the glasses on, feeling a little stupid for the way they must look, all stocky and chunky around your eyes. But safety is more important than looking fashionable (though Star and Moray would probably disagree), so you dealt with it for the time being.

“Okay you two.” Moray started. They leant against the bell tower, the rest of the posse at their side. “Go back to back.” They pointed to a spot just in front of them, right in the centre of the small, makeshift arena that had been fashioned with the barrier of bodies provided by the townsfolk.

North Star quickly made his way there, and you followed. He hadn’t turned his back however, instead holding out his gloved hand.

“Good luck, rookie.” You took his hand in your own, meeting his eyes with a panicked but grateful gaze. You thought for a moment, letting the tight grip of his hand in yours sink in, for this might be the last time you feel it.

“You too.” You shake his hand; up, down, then the feeling is gone and his eyes are no longer on you. Back turned, you do the same, wielding the BB gun in your hands. Don’t mess this up. Don’t make a fool out of yourself!

“Alrighty! Let’s get this started!” They crowd cheers in excitement once more. You can hear Martlet yell something over the voices, but her soft, chipper voice fails to make it to you in a coherent manner. “Alright, walk ten paces!”

One. Your feet feel weak just walking. These past couple of days of adventuring wearing them down to a comfortable sort of ache. A familiar, yet rewarding kind of pain.

Two, three. You grip your gun in your hands, your finger ready on the trigger. You could win this.

Four, five, six. Surely he’d let you win. In front of a crowd like this, in front of your friends, it’d be too embarrassing to lose.

Seven, eight, nine, ten. You had made it. Heart beating in your ears, thrumming like a drum throughout your body, a chant to not mess this up. A call to action. The blood flowed through you, hot and heavy and full of nerves. You breathed in. Exhale. You could do this.

You listened carefully, the whole crowd had gone quiet. The only sounds being that of the rustling wind, and the tumbleweeds smacking against the ground. Your face was hot, your whole body was on fire. If Star was here with you right now- well, he’d probably say something stupid, but it’d quell your nerves nonetheless. But that wasn’t exactly possible right now, was it?

You held your gun to your chest, pulling at the trigger just light enough so as not to fire it.

“Draw!” The ring of the charging bullet came out before you had even turned around, piercing your ears with an icy chill. Only after did you feel your fingers pull the trigger, and the small bullet pang against your shoulder.

The crowd erupted in cheers;

“He’s done it again!”

“I never doubted him for a second!”

North Star had won. Of course he had won, he’s the goddamn Sheriff! He’s the one who *taught* you how to shoot. How could you possibly think you had any chance to win this?

You looked up across the sand, up to where North Star stood, BB gun still in hand. The wind rolled through his poncho as it billowed and caved. You couldn’t see his eyes under the brim of his hat, expression unreadable. You could see his heavy breaths though, the crest and trough of his shoulders giving him away. You felt yourself do the same, gulping for any air that could possibly pass you by.

You had lost. Why did it feel so bad?

Suddenly, you shot up at the feeling of a large hand on your unwounded shoulder.

“Hey there newbie.” You turned around, it was Ed, “Don’t get yourself down. Star’s a great shot!” He flashed his one-toothed smile. Moray continued; “Yeah- C’mon, let's get that shoulder of yours patched up! I know those things ain’t lethal but they can sting!”

You looked back at North Star who still stood in place far across from you. Everything in your body– in your soul– urged you to go over to him but you *couldn’t*. You felt paralysed by betrayal- you couldn’t face him after that embarrassing display.

You turned away, walking off with Moray to go patch yourself up.

–

The softness of the hospital couch sunk in with the weight of the afternoon. Moray sat beside you, lightly cleaning the small wound on your shoulder.

The heat of the day didn’t make the spiralling in your mind any better, the weird way your thoughts whirled around like the wind had you fumbling for an appropriate response. But how does one respond to a betrayal that isn’t a betrayal at all?

“Hey, I know you just got shot in the arm- but are you feeling okay?” You turned to look at Moray, who gave you a worried look. “You’re not feeling faint, are you?” You shook your head at them.

After they had finished cleaning the small wound, they wrapped a light bandage around your upper arm, pulling it tightly around your shoulder.

“I’m just thinking.” You responded, tapping your foot on the wooden ground, finding comfort in the solid sound it returned to you with.

“Thinkin’ about what?” They guided your arm back into its sleeve, covering the bandaged shoulder.

“I knew I was gonna lose today. But- I guess a little part of me had some hope.” You looked down at your lap where your hat and revolver sat. The hat and gun North Star had given you.

“I get that. Honestly, I thought you were gonna win this one.” Moray smirked, “Don’t tell Star that though.” They smiled, and you managed out a giggle for their sake.

“Of course not. I guess I just expected him to go easy on me. I had hardly turned around by the time I got hit!”

“Yeah. I could tell he wasn’t goin’ easy on you. Which is very unlike him.” They frowned. It made sense, for the past week he had been so patient with you; accepting your mistakes and broadcasting your achievements. The North Star you saw out on the grounds today was so different. “I don’t know why myself. He hasn’t been talking to the rest of us much about this stuff.”

You gripped the soft edge of the mattress, digging your fingers into its soft torso.

“How’s the shoulder feel?” Moray asked. Their tone cut through the peaceful silence that had settled between you. You found it somewhat irritable-

“Better. Thank you so much.” You managed out.

Suddenly they stood up beside you,

“I’m gonna go celebrate with the others in the saloon. Wanna come drink away the feelings?” You felt a little embarrassed that they had read you so easily, but perhaps you were an open book.

It felt rude to not accept the offer, Moray had spent the time patching you up after all. Your body reluctantly slumped off of the mattress, and fixed your hat atop your head.

“Sure.” And off you went.

–

The saloon was loud. Much louder than you had ever heard it.

You had hardly managed dealing with the volume previously, but by this point it enraged you. Coupled with your prior frustrations, the world felt like one chaotic blur of sound and noise. Everything else was too difficult for your mind to render.

You followed Moray through the depths of people who swayed in a drunken stupor, flicking around cards and lighters. Ceroba sat with the other members of the Feisty Five at the end of the bar, each of them enjoying a drink and some chitchat. You and Moray mingled with the rest of the group, latching onto the circle they had formed to talk to one another in the cramped bar space.

You didn’t dare speak a word, you could barely get a noise out at this rate. Everything was too much- speaking would just push you over the edge.

You felt the group babble on around you, the sounds of their voices that once filled you with immense excitement only now brought about anger as your senses were brought to the limit.

Where was North Star? He was all your mind could focus on.

You looked back at the bar, back to the group. The stage was empty, and the rises above them were littered with monsters that looked nothing like him.

Your search having come up short, you returned your gaze to the group, your eyes landing on Ceroba’s who eyed you down.

“He’s at the house.” Despite her calmer tone, you managed to hear her over the monolith of voices.

You gave her a nod for thanks, before slipping away from the group without a word.

–

You walked down the path that led to the Feisty Fives residence, and sure enough North Star was there, pacing back and forth in front of the house, mumbling to himself.

You had caught wind of this behaviour in a previous conversation with Ed. Seems the Sheriff couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.

Despite seeing him like this, all flustered within the crowd of his own thoughts, anger still surged within you. Your soul not forgetting the duel’s outcome.

“What the hell Star!” You managed out as you made it to the house. He jumped at your intrusion, getting snapped out of his stupor.

“You couldn’t just let me have this?” You continued, the anger starting to bite at your tone, leaving it with sharp edges that cut deeper than you wanted them to. But there was no stopping this. It had to come out.

“I- what?” He responded with a confused tone, seeming just as off put as you were. Perhaps the chaos of the day had got to him just as much.

“The duel. Could you not have gone a little easier on me? That was humiliating!” You stammered out, your harsh tone becoming a shout, “I know I’m just some trainee, but, I thought you’d at least let me have this.” You turned away from him, embarrassed. This was stupid and you knew it, but your emotions kept pushing.

“I- I couldn’t I’m sorry I just-”

“After all this training. After this whole week. You gave me so much confidence only to play me for a fool?” The narrative your mind weaved tugged and pulled at your throat. You hated being mad at him, but you hated feeling betrayed more. This was the only way to fix that feeling, right?

North Star held his hands up defensively, as if you had pointed your revolver right at him.

“Please, darlin’ I was just trying to-”

“Quit it with that pet name! It won’t work on me. I know you’re just trying to use me for your games! You wanted to look good infront of everyone so you used me!” Your cheeks felt wet with what you assumed to be tears, the world around you blurred, your thoughts screeched to a halt. It was hard to speak.

You turned away from him, not being able to face him like this. It was no longer his presence that had become overwhelming, but your own. You wanted to step outside of your body, away from the thing that was making you act like this. So childish- You just wanted to shed it, be lifted of this feeling.

“I had to! There was nothing else I could do!” Star shouted back, his voice pleading with your mind,

“I didn’t want you to go- If you- If you won, you’d leave.” His voice sounded desperate. You didn’t have to turn around to know he was also crying, but you did anyway, knowing the sight would pain you. “You would leave and never come back. You’d go to the surface or get killed, and I’d never feel like this again!” It was hard to hear the way his voice broke and quivered as he talked, so different from the previously zealous and overconfident North Star you had known.

His staggered breathes and gulps for air in between slight sobs echoed in your mind. He didn’t want you to leave- He didn’t want you to leave, that was it.

You felt your anger dissipate, gone with the harsh words you’d thrown at him earlier. You took a step towards him, feeling his heart crush through the mere vibrations of the sand.

“Please, don’t go.” He begged, looking at you with an unrelenting gaze.

You got closer to him, taking him in your arms. It was the only thing that felt right. Words couldn’t fix what you’d already said.

You felt him hug you back, his arms resting around your shoulders. A warm pain shot through one of your arms, but for Star’s sake, you ignored it. You held him tight, the pain feeling real and grounded, the most clear your mind had been all day.

“I-” You started, your voice breaking as you uttered the simple word. You wiped the tears away from your eyes, “I want to stay.” You responded, your chin leant against his shoulder. His weight supporting yours. Your words supporting him.

He pulled away from you, looking down at you through worried eyes. “Don’t. I can’t keep you here if you want to leave. I’ve had you to myself long enough, darlin’.” This time the name didn’t sound so bad. It sounded just like the first time you heard it. Light and soft, it made your cheeks blush and your head spin. You loved it. You couldn't leave feelings like that behind, could you? You couldn’t find this sort of fluster, this sort of adventure, this safe community anywhere, could you? You couldn’t find love like *this* anymore.

“I want to stay, Star. I can’t leave you.” You managed a smile, despite the tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I betrayed you for my own selfish means.”

“I’m sorry for lashing out at you. I just jumped to conclusions- You didn’t betray me at all.” You held both of his hands in yours, squeezing hard to ground yourself. He pulled a hand away to wipe away his tears. His eyes became obscured under his hat and hand.

“The others are back at the saloon celebrating.” You piped up, confidence slipping its way back into your vowels. North Star turned to you, reaching a soft hand atop your good shoulder,

“Maybe let’s just sit this one out. Just you and me.”

“Just you and me.” You echoed, before heading inside the house.

***

“It’s only been a week, you know? Only one week for me to get too attached to this place.”

“I guess that’s my Western Charm working its wonders on you?”

“Pft- I wouldn’t say that-”

“Aw c’mon! At least give me this.”

“Sure- sure Star. You’ve got me smitten ‘cause of your “Cowboy Charm”.”

“It works wonders, I tell ya!”

“I’m sure it does, hah.”

“Rookie?”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t wait to get to know you more.”

“More than one week?”

“More than one week.”

#Undertale #Undertale Yellow #UTY #north star #starlo #fanfiction #starlo uty #undertale yellow starlo #uty north star #uty starlo #north star uty #north star undertale yellow #north star x reader #starlo x reader #north star uty x reader #starlo uty x reader #no country for young humans

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rayslittlekitten · 5 months

Text

Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls

A/N: This is finally done! I swear I started this like two years ago inspired by a Writer Wednesday prompt and I kinda got stuck trying to paint the exact picture I had in my mind and I think I finally succeeded. Okay maybe a little less detailed, but it's got the point I wanted to make across. This is kinda like a villain origin story. I chose to pair him with an OC (who also has physical descriptions) instead of reader character because this is really all about Dieter and I don’t think the reader would want to be the OC anyways. Also thanks to the lovely @lovebarefootblonde for beta reading!

Rating: T/M

Word Count: ~4.5k

Pairing: Young!Dieter Bravo (18+) x Named OFC

Plot: Dieter stumbles into his own Hollywood movie, but it's not the ending he expected.

Contains: mentions of sex, recreational drug use, angst

The sun is starting to set and palm tree silhouettes sway in front of the pink and orange skyline. The Golden Hour. The light casts long shadows as the glowing star descends. Dieter quickly pedals, cutting through alleyways and side streets to avoid the rush hour traffic and tourists.

Finally, he bursts through the front door of his apartment holding a take out bag and sweating like he just ran a marathon. He pants and tries to catch his breath as he quickly makes his way to the kitchen and shoves the bag into the nearly empty refrigerator. After slamming the door shut, he jogs over to the bathroom where he passes his roommate on the couch.

"I brought home some leftovers if you want it," Dieter quickly mentions.

"Is it a cheeseburger?" his roommate asks, his eyes never leaving the television screen.

"No! It's spaghetti and meatballs!" Dieter shouts from the bathroom where he starts getting rid of his sweaty and smelly clothes from waiting tables all day after turning on the shower.

"There's a party happening downtown tonight. Are you going?"

"No, I got this gig last minute. I gotta leave in like 10 minutes," he replies before shoving his toothbrush into his mouth.

"Come on, there's gonna be so many women there!" his roommate comments.

Dieter rushes through cleaning his teeth and spits into the sink.

"I'm working the Titanic premiere at the Chinese theater," he shouts before jumping into the shower, not even waiting for the water to warm up. He shrieks at the shock of the cold temperature.

After Dieter's record quick shower, he throws on some decently clean clothes after giving them a sniff and then shoves his feet into his shoes.

"The Titanic premiere? Get out! Who the hell did you have to blow to get that gig?" his roommate asks skeptically.

"No one. One of my coworkers also works catering and someone dropped out," Dieter shrugs. "I'm getting paid to serve stars. I'm not passing up on that."

"Well, look at you, climbing the Hollywood social ladder. Next, you're gonna tell me you're the new Leonardo DiCaprio."

"You could be the next Leonardo DiCaprio if you actually went to auditions instead of waiting for someone to notice you," Dieter shoots back.

"You do you man. I have my own methods," he replies smugly.

"I gotta go. See you later. Please do the dishes before you go to this party," Dieter adds before grabbing an apple out of a fruit bowl sitting on the kitchen counter and taking off.

***

As Dieter races to the theater on his bike, riding as quick as he possibly could while weaving through traffic, he slows down for a moment when he sees the large crowd lined up by the red carpet outside of the beautiful iconic theater. His breath is taken away as he admires the glitz and glamor in front of him.

The Grauman’s Chinese Theatre is a place he’s gotten well acquainted with since moving to Los Angeles. It’s one of his favorite places to go in his free time, watching all the new film releases. Sometimes multiple times if he enjoys them that much. However, he’s never actually attended a movie premiere and the elegant transformation has him in a chokehold.

As he approaches the theater, he hops off mid-roll as he slows down and hears a loud roar coming from the fans barricaded off to the side. He can't see who it is, but a limo just pulled up to the front of the theater and the screams get louder as someone steps out of the car and walks down the red carpet. He knows one day, it'll be him walking down that plush red carpet and loved by fans.

He moves quickly to behind the theater where his coworker told him to meet her. He sprints when he finds his coworker right outside the back door appearing to finish putting on her uniform.

"Oh, thank goodness you made it!" She says as she buttons up her uniform vest.

"I got here as quickly as I could." He drops his bike and with his hands on his knees, Dieter pauses to catch his breath.

"We don't have time!" She tosses him his uniform vest.

Dieter instantly throws the vest on.

"Come on! We gotta run," she tells him as she takes off inside.

"What about my bike?" he asks as he throws his bag over his shoulder.

"Bring it in!" she shouts from the long hallway.

Dieter takes his bike with him and rushes inside, letting the door close behind him. He leaves the bike and bag somewhere and she gestures to him to hurry. As he follows her, he buttons up and stuffs his shirt into his pants. By the time they enter the kitchen, he's mostly put together as he smooths out his hair, slicking it back.

He doesn't even get a moment to catch his breath when a tray of hors d'oeuvres get shoved into his hands.

"Go, go, go!" the man in apron shouts as he nudges Dieter towards the swinging doors.

Dieter rushes out while trying not to tip over the tray. He gathers his composure and walks around offering hors d'oeuvres while taking in the celebrities and VIPs. He was so in awe of everything and everyone around him, being in the midst of one of the most important parties celebrating what he believes will be one of the biggest movies of the year. It’s James freakin’ Cameron!

Throughout the night, he continues to walk around with trays of food and beverages while taking everything in. He’s taking notice of what people are wearing, saying, who’s talking to who. Even though he’s not able to mingle with the stars, he’s just as happy that he gets to still, in a way, be in the middle of it all. He was even able to sneak into the theater a few times to watch the movie.

As he makes his way back to the kitchen with an empty tray, suddenly he’s blindsided by a swinging door.

“Oops! I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t know you were behind the door,” the person apologizes.

“You went out the wrong door,” he exclaims while picking up his tray off the floor.

“Are you okay?”

When Dieter looks up at the offending person, his face softens. She looks like a Golden Aged Hollywood star. Her long wavy hair cascades down her exposed back. Her floor-length shiny dress is slinky against her smooth skin, hugging her every curve and dip, and flaring out at her ankles. Her long fanned out lashes and cat eyeliner frame her piercing eyes.

“I… yeah I’m… I’m good,” he stammers, swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth. “Um, can I help you? Are, are you lost?” He vaguely points to the kitchen doors.

“Say, you happen to know where I can powder my nose?” She asks curiously while tapping the tip of her nose with he satin-covered fingertip.

“Uhhh, the ladies’ room is that way,” he points to a general direction.

“You’re adorable,” she compliments with a giggle after a silent moment studying him. “This is your first time working one of these big Hollywood parties, isn’t it?”

“Uhhh… no?”

Something out of his eyesight catches her attention and she loops her arm through his before quickly swooping him away into a different direction.

“So, uh, what did you say your name was again?” She asks as she briskly moves them farther away from where they were, occasionally glancing back.

“I, I didn’t,” he stutters. “Where are we going?”

“You know where we can just get away from the crowd and maybe get some air?” She asks while scanning the place.

“Yes, I actually do. Follow me!”

Dieter stealthily navigates them both to a section for employees only and out through a back alleyway. She looks behind them and when she sees that nobody has followed them, she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Phew! Thank you so much,” she says to him.

“No problem. So who or what were we running away from back there?” Dieter asks her.

“What are you talking about?” She asks calmly.

“You wanted to get the hell out of there and you kept looking back like you’re checking to see if anyone was following us.”

She ignores his observation, walking off a few feet away to put some distance between them as she takes out a cigarette from her clutch.

“Are you in danger?” Dieter asks.

She scoffs and lets out a chuckle.

“No, nothing dramatic like that,” she responds right before she lights her cigarette and takes a drag.

He notices she doesn’t have a wristband or any visible credentials.

“Are you even supposed to be at this party?” He asks her with narrow eyes.

Suddenly the door swings open, knocking into Dieter and preventing it from opening further. He moves aside and pokes his head around the door.

“Hey, sorry, buddy. Did you happen to see a woman with long dark hair about this tall come out this way? She has on like a long shiny dress?”

“Uhhh…” Dieter glances around the alleyway on both sides and briefly notices the woman hiding behind the door with her back against the brick wall, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.

“I mean, that could be anyone here,” Dieter responds to the man with a small smirk. “But no, I didn’t.” He shakes his head to underline his confirmation.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks with slight suspicion, noticing his uniform. “Shouldn’t you be inside working?”

“I’m just taking a break,” he shrugs.

The woman quietly offers Dieter her lit cigarette behind the door and he takes it from her without raising any alarms.

“A smoke break.” He shows the man the cigarette in his hand before taking a puff himself.

“Well, make it quick. if you see anyone matching that description, please let me know.”

And with that, he hands Dieter his business card.

“Will do, sir!” Dieter nods to him as he takes the card.

Dieter watches the man walk back into the building, and when he is completely out of sight, he looks over to where she is and notices she has started to tiptoe away.

“He’s gone,” Dieter tells her.

She stops in her tracks and turns around.

“Thank you for that. I really appreciate it.” She claps her hands together.

“You owe him some money or something?” Dieter asks, slowly walking towards her while taking another pull of her cigarette.

“Mm, I guess it depends on who you ask,” she replies coyly.

“What does that mean?” He tilts his head curiously.

After what he did for her, she feels she owes him at least an explanation.

“We had just met a few hours ago and I charmed him enough to sneak into this party but I got bored halfway in. I thought I’d be able to rub elbows with some important people, but turns out he doesn’t really know those important people here and if you don’t know anyone, you’d be lucky to even get to say just hi to the people everyone wants to talk to, so I dressed my best for nothing,” she replies.

Dieter checks the business card that was handed to him and it reads:

“Lights, Camera, Catering

Abner Bailey Jones

CEO”

“Shit, I think that was my boss,” Dieter laughs. “But that still doesn’t explain why he’s looking for you and why you’re avoiding him.”

“My guess is he’s expecting something in return for him getting me into the party,” she shrugs.

“Oooh,” he simply replies. “Wait a minute. So you got all glammed up and came here not knowing if you were going to get into the premiere?” He asks.

“You gotta fake it ‘til you make it, right?” She shrugs again as she struts back to him and takes her cigarette back. “So you ever gonna tell me your name? You can call me Beatrice.”

She takes a long drag while waiting for his answer.

“Dieter. My stage name," he explains. "It's a nickname my family gave me when I was a kid because I couldn't pronounce theater correctly which I loved going to all the time and it came out sounding like Dieter and it just stuck. The movie theater is where my passion for acting started."

“Of course you’re an actor. What’s your real name?"

Dieter doesn't answer, but simply flashes a cheeky smirk at her, his dimple creasing deeper into his face.

"Hmm, suddenly so mysterious. Nice to meet you, Dieter.” Beatrice extends her gloved hand out and Dieter shakes it.

“You’re new in town, aren't you?" she asks curiously then drops the cigarette butt on the asphalt.

"Not really. I moved here about six months ago."

"Six months only? Oh, you are new in town," she comments. "Practically a tourist."

"Really?" he asks with a tilt to his head. “What makes you say that?"

"Your eagerness. You still got that sparkle in your eyes. You haven’t been jaded by Hollywood yet.”

“And you have, I suppose?”

Beatrice shrugs and flashes an award-winning smile, her turn to be a little mysterious. Her blood red lips make her perfect teeth even brighter.

“Hey, you wanna get out of here? Got a place we can go to just like, hang out?” she asks.

Dieter looks around to make sure she was talking to him and then stares back at her like a deer in headlights.

“M-me? You wanna hang out with me?” He points to his own chest, shocked.

“Yeah, why does that surprise you?”

“I mean you… you look like that,” he points to her dress. “And well…” He then gestures his hands to himself.

“You look like a star. I just didn’t think women who look like you would want anything to do with people who look like me,” he replies.

“It’s that kinda thinking that makes me want to hang out with you even more. You’re not full of yourself. You seem like a cool guy, Dieter.”

Dieter’s face flushes. “Thank you. You seem super cool too. Like way cooler than me. Oh! My shift ends in…” he glances at his watch. “Maybe another hour.”

“Oh, come on, Dieter!”

Dieter sighs, stuck between staying for the party or going with this beautiful woman in front of him.

“You’re not gonna leave a damsel all in distress, are you?” Beatrice fakes an exaggerated pout while batting her hazel eyes.

“You have a habit of following around strangers?” He teases.

“Strangers? You and me? No. You lied for me and basically saved my life. You’re practically my savior,” she corrects him.

“Saved your life? I thought you weren’t in any danger. ‘Nothing dramatic like that’, I believe you said,” he jabs back.

“You saved me from dying of boredom,” she smirks and it draws a small laugh out of Dieter. “So what do you say, hero?”

Dieter chews on his lower lip as he weighs his options.

“Come on, you really wanna work this boring party? I’m pretty sure half the cast left already,” she gripes. “Oh, I also got…”

Beatrice fishes inside her clutch and pulls out a small baggie.

“Weed! I don’t know if you indulge, but I’m willing to share,” she tempts him as she dangles the baggie. “We can chill out and talk about the movie or whatever.”

After a few more moments, he finally makes a decision.

“Wait right here. I’ll be right back,” Dieter tells her right before he rushes back inside.

“Yes!” Beatrice exclaims enthusiastically.

A few minutes later, Dieter returns with his bag and bike.

“My coworker’s gonna cover for me. She owes me a favor,” Dieter says.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s gonna fit the both of us, especially not while wearing this.” She points out her delicate gown. “Let’s hail a cab!”

***

After grabbing some tacos off a street cart, they end up back at his place.

"I don't think my roommate is home. He went to some party downtown,” Dieter says while giving her a quick tour of his apartment.

When they finally reach his messy bedroom, she notices the canvases sprawled throughout.

"You're an artist?” Beatrice asks while admiring the art.

"I dabble in paint whenever I have the time,” he shrugs. “Which sometimes is a lot,” he laughs.

"Your style is interesting. What do you have going on here?" She asks, pointing to a canvas with splotches of color on it.

"I don't know yet. I just paint whatever comes to my mind." He stuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs as he walks over to the painting.

"Whenever I get inspired, I just..." He vaguely gestures his hand to the half empty white surface. "I have to admit, many of them have been under the influence," he laughs.

"Oh, yeah? What's your poison of choice?" she asks, suddenly very interested.

“Well, usually just some marijuana. That one was actually a result of the first time I tried mushrooms.” Dieter points to a different painting.

“Have you ever tried cocaine?”

“That’s a rich man’s candy,” Dieter replies, shaking his head.

“I can get some for us,” she offers. “I know someone.”

“You have that kind of money?” He asks curiously with a raised brow, inching closer to her.

“Money isn’t the only currency there is, especially out here in Hollywood."

Dieter studies her for a few moments trying to understand what she could mean.

“A-are you… do you…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question without possibly offending her.

“No, I’m not a prostitute if that’s what you’re going to ask,” she chuckles. "But you wouldn't be the first person to think that."

"I'm not judging." He puts his hands up in defense. "Everyone's gotta do whatever they can to survive."

"Especially out here in the wild, wild West. People are nice to each other, but in the end it's everyone for themselves." She tips her head to him.

"I wish you success but also hope I get the role instead of you, ha ha ha,” she mocks with an obvious fake laugh and then rolls her eyes. "So much ego."

“Ouch. Sounds like you've been burned before.” Dieter walks over to her.

"Yeah, but I have thick skin. You've gotta have that to be in this game. You've gotta grow one after the umpteenth rejection. Or even worse, having to suck it up and reject a role because you refuse to suck a dick for it— a background role at that. You mind?" She pulls out a joint and the corner of his lips turn up.

“Not if you share," he replies.

She lights it up and after taking a pull, she hands it to him.

"Can't say I've had the opportunity to suck a dick for a role yet," he chuckles before taking a hit.

"Oh, trust me, you will. There is no discrimination. Women might get it more often, but there are definitely men who have fucked to get a role as well."

“I should be, but why am I not surprised?” he chimes in.

“Enough of all this talk. It’s bringing the mood down. Oh, I’ve got an idea!” she says, taking a drag of the joint as she lays down on his bed. “Draw me like one of your French girls.”

"Are you for real?" he asks.

"Yes, I am." She takes another drag and passes the joint back to him before starting to strip down.

Dieter is shocked and speechless. He is in awe as he watches her remove her clothes until she's down to her lacy underwear. Her braless breasts hang freely as she lays down on her side, just like Rose did.

“Are you just gonna stare at me all night or do you need more drugs?” she asks him after a few moments.

“I’m just admiring the art that’s already in front of me,” he replies before taking another toke of the joint. “Not sure if any amount of drugs will do it any justice.”

“You’re sweet,” she comments as warmth rises to her face. “But I wanna see what you see. As they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

Dieter continues to study her for a few more seconds before finally nodding.

“Alright. I think I got something.”

He passes the joint back to her and with that, Dieter starts squeezing some paint onto his palette, mixing colors and spreading them on the canvas. His dark round eyes dart around her face and body, taking in the image in front of him and then finally scraping some paint onto the canvas to spit out what his mind is processing.

She can’t see what he’s doing but notices he’s using a lot of different colors and broad strokes. After about ten minutes of this, a wide smirk plays on his face.

“What? Do I look silly like a Picasso or something?” She asks.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I just can’t believe the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met is naked on my bed, asking me to paint her.”

“You don’t get a lot of women getting naked in your bed for a portrait?” She teases before taking another drag and passing it on to Dieter.

“No,” he laughs, taking a pull of his own.

“Although, I’m not quite naked yet.” Beatrice slides off the bed and struts towards him. “Let me see what you’ve got so far.”

“No, no, it’s not quite finished—“

She takes a peek despite his protests and the breath is knocked out of her.

“Dieter, this is…” She’s at a loss for words.

“Yeah, I know, it’s… it’s really rough and—”

“This is beautiful!” She turns to him.

It’s a somewhat abstract piece with globs of paint spackled onto the canvas. He highlighted the soft features of her face and how her tendrils of long curls hung off her head. Her bright red lips pop out against the browns, beiges and yellows behind it. A splash of blue and green in the background pulls her away from the canvas. While her body isn’t complete yet, the simple and rough outline he laid out seemed intentional. If he hadn’t said anything, she would have thought he was finished.

“Thank you, you’re kind.” His face heats up as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I mean it, Dieter. Seriously! You have a gift.”

Dieter is now the one speechless. His face starts to get warm and pink.

“But maybe you need a closer look to finish this painting. Catch the details you might have missed.”

Beatrice proceeds to push her panties down until they hit the floor, which made his jaw do that as well. She then takes the joint from him, takes a big hit and straddles his lap. Leaning in, her lips graze his as she opens her mouth. He opens up his own and sucks in the smoke into his lungs. After a moment, their lips meet and they begin to make out, working up to fog his windows.

***

When Dieter wasn't at an audition or waiting on people, he spent most of his time with Beatrice. They'd sneak into movie theaters to catch a flick, especially when they were playing classics, which they both appreciated, but many times they ended up making out instead. Sometimes they'd take long strolls along the Santa Monica pier while smoking weed. At some point, she introduced him to cocaine and whatever drugs she was able to get her hands on, and in turn he would churn out pieces of art while admiring her, his muse.

They did almost everything together. They laughed, cried, loved, and tripped together. They even went on auditions together and supported each other in preparing for them. He had such a strong connection with her, sharing the same passions and navigating life together in this crazy movie town. He thought he found his soulmate.

It was the best time of his life. He was living his own Hollywood movie and he felt like he was at the top of the world, just like Jack Dawson, but he then learned he’s no Leonardo DiCaprio. As quickly as he got high on all this, the crash came down just as fast.

"I don't understand," Dieter says, confused.

"You don't make friends in this business, Dieter. You make transactions and deals."

"Wow," he could only muster up with wide eyes. "What about relationships? Friendships? Do you have any connection - a genuine connection - with anyone?"

"The only connections I need are transactional. I give something in exchange for something else, whether it be for survival, pleasure or power."

He scrubs a hand over his face and studies her for a few moments.

"So what was I? What did you get in exchange for... for whatever this is?" Dieter asks, waving his hand between them.

"You had a good time, right?" she shrugs as she throws a small smile.

"This was more than just a good time for me," Dieter shoots back with air quotes. "I-I thought we had something special. We talked about making it in Hollywood together!”

"Oh, honey..." she frowns and reaches for his face, but he flinches, pulling away from her and walking off.

"How do you-- how can you--" Dieter takes a deep breath to compose himself.

"Hollywood is going to eat you alive, sweetheart. You're not cut out for this place," Beatrice shakes her head.

"No," Dieter shakes his head. "You get one fucking role and then you think you're too good for me?"

"It's nothing personal," she explains. "I'm just playing by the rules. I didn't create them. And once I'm in, like in in, I can help maybe you get your foot in too."

Dieter is speechless. He just stares at her with misty eyes and brows turned down, shaking his head in disappointment.

“I don’t need your charity or… or your fucking connections! Did you have to suck a dick for that role?”

She looks back at him in disgust and scoffs.

“No need to be rude. I earned that role,” she replies with her arms crossed.

“That’s not a no,” he retorts.

“Whatever. I don’t need to explain myself,” she huffs. “Look, I just came to tell you I can’t see you anymore and to pick up my things and say goodbye.”

Dieter just stares at her again, trying to process what is unfolding as the reality sinks in.

“Just go. Take your shit and go,” he simply says.

After she gathers her things, she takes one more glance at him.

“Goodbye, Dieter.”

When he doesn’t respond, she finally walks out the door, leaving Dieter to cry alone and pick up the broken pieces of his heart.

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x OFC #the bubble

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