#absolutely love the casting though xx

[staraya]

[thewickedjazzy]

⌞𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰⌝

Part I : 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙉𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙪𝙨

Pairings: Chuuya x mafia boss fem!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mention of death, mention of other dimensions (could trigger derealization), please let me know if I forgot any Xx.

Author's note: Hey fellas!! Hope you enjoy my story ahead. Note: It consists of 3 parts. I've been toying with the idea of this story for a while now and honestly I am very satisfied with how it turned out!!

P.s: it's written in a 3rd person perspective.

Word count: 5.7k

In the deepest recesses of the human heart, there exists a haunting paradox: the insatiable thirst for power clashes with the equally profound yearning for connection. These two opposing forces, entwined yet in constant conflict, shaped the existence of a mafia boss who ruled Yokohama's shadowed underworld. Her life was a testament to this struggle—a legacy of power forged in the crucible of blood and betrayal, passed down as both a gift and a curse. Power was her birthright, a mantle she wore with unyielding resolve, yet its weight was a burden she bore in solitude, isolated by the very force that defined her.

At her side, Chuuya Nakahara stood as her most loyal confidant, a kindred spirit shaped by his own battles and scars. In the murky depths of their world, where loyalty was a currency as rare as it was valuable, their bond was forged in the fires of mutual understanding. Yet even with Chuuya's unwavering support, she knew that true power came at a steep price—a cost paid in loneliness and the silent suffering that accompanied her every decision. The shadow of her legacy loomed large, casting its darkness over every connection she sought to make until all that remained was the cold, unyielding pursuit of control.

Chuuya understood this truth with a clarity that bordered on despair. His unwavering loyalty was not merely a matter of duty; it was rooted in a deep, unspoken love that lay buried within the shadows of his heart. This love, a secret he guarded fiercely, was both his greatest strength and his inevitable downfall—a double-edged sword that he could never wield openly.

She, the one who controlled the very fabric of the underworld with her formidable ability, the "Malevolent Marionette," held the power to command not just armies, but the delicate balance between life and death itself. With a mere thought, she could pull the strings of fate, bending the wills of others to her own, yet this power, so absolute in its reach, left her isolated in a world where love was both a weakness and a danger. Chuuya, in his silence, bore witness to her lonely reign, knowing that his love for her could never be spoken, for to do so would unravel the delicate threads that bound their lives together.

In the dimly lit office of the mafia headquarters, the mafia boss was going through some paperwork as usual, on the top floor of the headquarters, her gaze fixed on the writings and patterns of the file she was holding, broke the silence first.

"Chuuya..." she said softly, her voice carrying a weight of unvoiced thoughts, "Do you ever wonder if the price we pay for control is worth it?"

Chuuya, leaning against the edge of the desk, met her eyes with a mixture of solemnity and affection. "Every day," he replied, his voice low but steady.

"But even in this world of shadows, it's your strength that keeps us going. Without it, we'd all be lost."

A fleeting smile touched her lips, but it was a rare moment of vulnerability.

"And yet, even with all the power we wield, it feels as though we’re trapped in a cage of our own making," she murmured.

Their conversation, delicate and laden with the gravity of their shared existence, was abruptly interrupted by a piercing alarm that sliced through the air like a knife. The blaring sound was a sharp reminder of the perpetual danger they faced.

“Alert: Intruder detected,” the automated voice declared with relentless efficiency.

"Ugh, give me a break," the mafia boss muttered, rolling her eyes as the alarm blared incessantly through the headquarters.

The shrill sound grated on her nerves, but it was more of an annoyance than a cause for concern.

She leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest as she considered the situation.

Chuuya, already halfway to the door, paused and glanced back at her.

"You really think they’ll get anywhere near us?"

She gave a small, dismissive shake of her head. "They won’t make it past the third floor, let alone reach us up here. But it’s still a nuisance."

Chuuya smirked, his confidence in her words evident.

"I'll handle it quickly, then."

With that, he turned and strode out of the room, the door closing softly behind him. Left alone, the boss exhaled, her eyes drifting to the window where the city sprawled beneath her like a living, breathing entity.

The layers of protection she had built around herself—both physical and emotional—were nearly impenetrable. No one had ever made it to the top floor, where she and Chuuya resided. And no one ever would.

She pushed herself up from the chair, moving to a hidden compartment in the wall.

She pressed a button, and the hidden compartment slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a sleek monitor embedded within.

As she activated the screen, a grid of camera feeds flickered to life, offering her a bird’s-eye view of the entire headquarters. She wasn’t one to micromanage her subordinates—she trusted them, especially Chuuya—but the instinct to keep an eye on things, especially when it involved him, was something she couldn’t quite shake.

Her eyes scanned the feeds, taking in the chaotic scenes unfolding below. The intruders, a small but highly trained group, had made it farther than most. The lower floors were a warzone, with her men locked in fierce combat, but it was clear that they were holding their ground. For now.

She switched to the third-floor feed, her gaze sharpening as she saw Chuuya enter the fray. He moved with lethal precision, a blur of motion as he tore through the intruders with the ease of someone born to fight not using his gravity manipulation ability just yet.

Despite her earlier confidence, a sliver of unease crept into her mind as she watched him. These intruders were no amateurs; they were too coordinated, too familiar with the layout of the headquarters. Her finger hovered over the intercom button, but she hesitated. Chuuya didn’t need her guidance—he was more than capable of handling the situation. Yet, the feeling persisted, gnawing at her as she watched him confront a particularly skilled opponent, their clash sending shockwaves through the walls.

Suddenly, something on one of the other camera feeds caught her attention. A figure, moving with uncanny stealth, had bypassed the bulk of the defenses and was making their way up the emergency stairwell—a route rarely used and known only to a select few. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the intruder was heading straight for the top floor.

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, quickly switching the camera view to track the figure’s progress. Whoever this was, they were dangerous—calculated, and possibly someone with inside knowledge.

Without wasting another second, she hit the intercom button, her voice steady but urgent.

"Chuuya, we’ve got a problem. There’s someone headed for the top floor, and they’re taking the emergency stairs."

Chuuya’s voice crackled through the speaker, laced with irritation.

"You sure it’s not just another grunt?"

"No," she replied, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

"This one’s different. They know exactly where they’re going."

There was a brief pause on the other end, then a sharp intake of breath.

"I’m on my way. Don’t do anything reckless."

She smirked at his concern but didn’t argue. "Hurry," was all she said before ending the call.

Her smirk faded as she watched the intruder move with calculated precision through the stairwell, each step deliberate and unhurried. Whoever this was, they were no ordinary assassin. They were heading straight for her, bypassing the usual layers of defense as if they knew exactly where to find her.

Her fingers itched to grab her weapon, but something told her this encounter would require more than brute force.

She had an ability—one she rarely used, because it was as dangerous as it was powerful. But this was different. This intruder was different.

She closed the compartment and stepped away from the monitor, moving to sit on a nearby desk near the door, her senses on high alert.

Every second stretched into an eternity as she waited, listening for the faintest sound of approaching footsteps. Then, just as she had predicted, they stopped right outside her door.

The handle turned slowly, and she felt her heartbeat quicken, her muscles tensing in anticipation. The door opened with an almost deliberate slowness, and the intruder stepped inside—a tall figure cloaked in black, their face hidden beneath a dark hood. They paused, surveying the room as if searching for something, before their gaze finally settled on her and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. But instead of striking, the figure remained still, as if weighing their options.

She didn’t wait for them to speak. “You’ve got five seconds to tell me why you’re here before I kill you,” she said, her voice sharp and commanding, yet calm, with an underlying edge that promised she would follow through.

The intruder lifted their hands slightly, a gesture of surrender, though there was a calculated caution in the movement. “I’m not here to fight,” they said, their voice muffled by the hood. “I’m here to deliver a message.”

She narrowed her eyes, distrust gnawing at her. “A message?” she echoed. “From who?”

The intruder took a cautious step forward, reaching into their coat. She tensed, ready to strike, but they slowly pulled out a small, sealed envelope instead of a weapon. They held it out to her, and she got up from the desk as she eyed it warily before snatching it from their hand, tearing it open with a swift, practised motion.

Inside was a single sheet of paper, the handwriting elegant but unfamiliar. Her eyes scanned the words quickly, her breath catching as she read the message. It was simple, yet devastating:

" 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳. ����𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦—𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘙𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴—𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘴. 𝘐 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦. "

At the bottom of the note was a name—one that sent a cold chill down her spine. Her stepfather. The man who had been a shadowy figure in her life, part of a past she had tried to bury. But he wasn’t buried—he was back, and he had her sister.

The intruder watched her carefully, reading the shift in her expression. “He told me to give you that,” they said, their voice low. “And to tell you that this is just the beginning. If you don’t do as he says… your sister will suffer.”

Her hands tightened around the paper, crumpling it slightly as she fought to keep her emotions in check. She couldn’t let the intruder see how deeply this cut, couldn’t afford to show any weakness.

“Why should I believe you?” she asked, her tone cold. “How do I know this isn’t some trick?”

“You don’t,” the intruder replied, their voice devoid of emotion. “But you know who he is. You know what he’s capable of. And you know he’s not bluffing.”

She hated how true those words were. She looked at the intruder, her eyes narrowing in calculation. “What’s your role in this?” she demanded. “Why are you helping him?”

The intruder hesitated, then finally pulled back the hood, revealing a face lined with weariness and resolve. “I’m just a messenger. But I know what he wants. He’s not just after you—he’s after Chuuya.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Chuuya? What does he want with him?”

The intruder shook their head. “That’s all I know. My job was to deliver the message and make sure you understood the stakes. What you do next is up to you.”

She stared at the intruder for a long moment, her mind racing. This was no ordinary threat. It was personal, and it was a game she would have to play carefully. Her sister’s life was on the line, and now, Chuuya’s safety was in jeopardy as well.

Finally, she stepped back, allowing the intruder to leave. “Get out before Chuuya gets here” she ordered, her voice icy. “And tell your boss that if he harms her, I’ll burn his entire world to the ground.”

The intruder hesitated, their eyes flicking towards the door as if they were weighing their options. But the cold determination in her voice left no room for argument. With a slight nod, they pulled the hood back over their head, turning to leave the room as quietly as they had entered. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving her alone once more.

As the silence settled back into the room, she let out a slow breath, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. Her sister—her only remaining family—was in the hands of a man she had long thought buried in her past. A man whose very existence she had tried to forget, yet he had resurfaced like a ghost from a nightmare, bringing with him a threat that was as personal as it was terrifying.

After a few seconds the door opened once again as Chuuya stepped into the room, his presence like a force of nature that filled the space. His eyes immediately went to her, scanning her for any sign of hurt.

“What the hell just happened?” Chuuya’s tone was sharp, cutting through the tension that still hung in the air.

She turned to face him, her expression carefully composed, though the turmoil inside her was anything but. “It’s handled,” she replied, her voice calm and controlled, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within her. “The intruder was just a messenger.”

Chuuya’s eyes narrowed. He knew her too well to be fooled by her calm exterior. “And what was the message?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. He took a step closer, his gaze locked onto hers, searching for the truth she was trying to hide.

For a moment, she hesitated. The urge to tell him everything—to let him in on the danger that now threatened them both—was strong. But she couldn’t. Chuuya was too important, too precious to her, to risk him being dragged into this mess. Her stepfather was a dangerous man, someone who thrived on manipulation and deceit. If Chuuya knew he was a target, he would rush headlong into the fray, putting himself at risk for her sake. She couldn’t allow that.

She forced a small smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s nothing we can’t handle,” she said, trying to sound reassuring. “Just someone trying to stir up trouble. But I’ll take care of it.”

Chuuya’s frown deepened. “Don’t give me that crap,” he snapped, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re not telling me something. What’s going on?”

She exhaled slowly, knowing she had to give him something to keep him from pressing further. “It’s about my sister,” she admitted, her voice softening. “She’s been taken, and they want me to come for her. Alone.”

The truth in her words wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole story either. Chuuya’s expression shifted from suspicion to anger, his fists clenching at his sides. “Taken? By who?” His voice was low, dangerous, the fury in his eyes barely contained.

“A man from my past,” she said vaguely, refusing to give him the details that would send him charging into danger. “Someone I thought I’d left behind. But he’s come back, and he’s using her to get to me.”

Chuuya’s jaw tightened, his eyes burning with determination. “Then we’ll find him,” he growled. “We’ll get her back, and we’ll make him pay for this."

She shook her head, placing a hand on his arm to stop him. “No, Chuuya. This is something I have to handle alone. It’s too dangerous, and I can’t let you get involved.”

His eyes flashed with anger. “Like hell I’m staying out of this. You’re not facing this bastard by yourself.”

Her grip on his arm tightened, her voice firm. “You have to trust me, Chuuya. I need you to stay close, but out of sight. Let me deal with him. I promise, I’ll bring her back.”

He stared at her, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. He wanted to argue, to demand that she let him fight by her side, but something in her eyes—something resolute and unyielding—stopped him. With a frustrated sigh, he finally nodded, though his reluctance was clear.

“Fine,” he agreed, his voice begrudging. “But I’m not letting you out of my sight. The moment I think you’re in danger, I’m coming in, whether you like it or not.”

She allowed herself a small, genuine smile this time, grateful for his stubborn loyalty. “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she replied, her voice softening.

Chuuya’s anger seemed to dissipate slightly, replaced by a deep, unspoken concern. He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto hers. “Just promise me you’ll be careful,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “I can’t lose you.”

Her heart tightened at his words, and she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I promise.”

For a moment, they stood there, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging between them. She wanted to reach out, to tell him how much his presence meant to her, how much she relied on him, how much she cared about him not because of his ability but rather because of who he is. But there were too many walls between them, too much left unsaid. So instead, she simply held his gaze, letting the silence speak for them both.

The distance between them felt palpable, an invisible barrier made up of all the things they hadn’t yet confessed, of all the emotions they kept locked away for the sake of their precarious world.

He reached out, hesitating for a moment before finally placing a hand on her shoulder. The touch was light, almost tentative, as if he was afraid to overstep the boundaries they’d both carefully constructed. “You know,” he began, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it, “you don’t always have to carry everything on your own. I’m here, not just as your right hand, but… for whatever you need.”

His words hung in the air between them, laced with meaning that went beyond the professional bond they shared. She looked up at him, her breath catching slightly at the sincerity in his eyes. It would be so easy to lean into that touch, to allow herself the comfort of his presence, but the walls she had built around her heart held firm. She had spent so long keeping everyone at a distance, even him, that it felt impossible to let go now.

“Chuuya…” she started, her voice wavering, “you don’t understand how much this means to me. But it’s precisely because I care about you that I can’t afford to let you in too close. The world we inhabit is fraught with dangers—dangers that neither of us can escape unscathed.”

His hand moved from her shoulder to take hers gently, the gesture tender yet firm, as though he was determined to bridge the distance between them, however insurmountable it seemed. “Do you think I’m blind to that?” he replied, a trace of frustration colouring his words, though it was softened by a plea—one that echoed the vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. “We’ve faced every challenge together until now. I’m not asking you to tear down all your defenses—just to let me in, if only a little. We are stronger when we stand together, aren’t we?”

She turned away slightly, her gaze drifting toward the window where the city sprawled beneath them, a living testament to the power and control she wielded. But even as she looked out over the empire she had built, there was an emptiness, a hollow ache that power could not fill. She had sacrificed so much to be where she was—her freedom, her innocence, her very humanity. And yet, here was Chuuya, offering her something she had long forgotten how to grasp: connection.

"Chuuya," she said, her voice barely audible, as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. "In our world, everything is a transaction. Loyalty, trust, and even love—they all come at a price. I’ve always believed that the cost was too high. That to let anyone in was to invite ruin."

He didn’t respond immediately, allowing the silence to stretch between them, heavy with the weight of their shared history. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost contemplative. "Maybe that’s true," he admitted, "but maybe the price of keeping everyone out is even higher. We think we’re protecting ourselves by building these walls by staying distant, but all we’re doing is trapping ourselves in a cage of our own making as you always refer to it."

She smiles and nods. He was right... of course, he was right, yet she couldn't help but stay in that cage.

The night draped over Yokohama like a shroud, its darkness suffused with the ominous weight of impending tragedy. The air was thick with the scent of rain and the distant echo of sirens—harbingers of chaos that had become all too familiar. In the heart of this city, where shadows wove their own intricate dance, a final confrontation was brewing.

She had indeed managed to save her sister, wresting her from the clutches of the man who had once been a silent specter in her past. Her stepfather—whose dark presence had loomed over her life like a persistent nightmare—stood before her now, his power radiating like a malignant force that threatened to engulf everything she held dear. His ability to subsume other powers was a fearsome weapon, a black hole of dominion that threatened to consume all in its path.

The battle that ensued was a tempest of ferocity and desperation. She fought with the strength of a woman who had everything to lose, her every move fueled by a fierce, protective love for her sister. But as the confrontation dragged on, it became clear that her stepfather's power was overwhelming—an abyss that threatened to swallow her whole.

In a final, desperate bid to secure her sister’s safety, she made the agonizing decision to invoke the full potential of her "Malevolent Marionette" ability. The room was filled with a sombre silence as she whispered the usual incantation, her voice trembling with the weight of her resolve.

The master puppet, an intricate symbol of her ability, materialized in the center of the room—a dark, foreboding figure that seemed to pulse with an ancient, dangerous energy.

Her connection to the puppet was immediate and intense. The energy surging through her was both exhilarating and terrifying. The puppet’s power was immense, a dark purple tide that surged through her veins, promising the ability to reshape the world itself if she so wished. But the cost was steep—five minutes of devastation, followed by her own inevitable demise if the puppet was not destroyed.

The minutes ticked by like a slow, relentless drumbeat, each second a harbinger of doom. She fought valiantly, her power a raging inferno that lashed out at her stepfather, but he remained an insurmountable force, his power too great to be overcome. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each exhalation a reminder of the ticking clock that governed her fate.

Chuuya stood at the edge of the shadows, his heart pounding with a frantic rhythm that mirrored the chaotic storm raging within him. He had been waiting for what felt like an eternity, his every muscle tense with a blend of fear and frustration. The stakes had been too high, and he knew that his absence, though well-intentioned, was a gamble with dire consequences. The reality of their world was unforgiving, and he could sense the weight of his decisions settling heavily upon him.

As he watched the building, a sudden flicker of purple neon light cut through the darkness, casting an eerie glow over the structure. The light pulsed rhythmically, a harbinger of something both powerful and dangerous. His blood ran cold as he realized the significance of the display. It was a sign—a signal that she had invoked the full potential of her "Malevolent Marionette" ability —the very ability they had always relied on him to control, to destroy.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, and his heart raced with a desperate urgency.

The purple lights, casting long, twisted shadows, illuminated the building’s facade like a harbinger of doom. Chuuya could see from afar her silhouette, framed against the intense glow. Her movements were determined, each gesture a testament to the raw, untamed power she wielded.

Without a moment's hesitation, he sprinted toward the building, his every step fueled by a mixture of fear and determination. The forest trees blurred past him as he raced towards the source of the light, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Each heartbeat seemed to echo with the dread of what he might find.

The building loomed ahead, its once-sturdy facade now a chaotic wreckage. Debris littered the ground, and the air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and destruction. Chuuya burst through the entrance, his senses assaulted by the aftermath of the battle. The interior was a scene of devastation, the walls scorched and twisted from the unleashed power.He pushed forward, navigating through the wreckage with a sense of grim determination. His eyes scanned the ruinous landscape, searching for any sign of her. The purple neon light was now fading, its power waning as the last vestiges of the ritual played out. His heart sank as he approached the center of the chaos, where the battle had reached its climax.

There, amidst the debris and ruin, he found her. She stood amidst the wreckage, her form silhouetted against the dying glow of the purple light. Her stepfather lay defeated at her feet, the battle won but at an unimaginable cost. Her eyes, once filled with the fierce resolve of a warrior, now bore the hollow emptiness of someone who had sacrificed everything.

Chuuya's breath caught in his throat as he approached her, his mind struggling to process the sight before him. She had succeeded in her mission, but the power of the "Malevolent Marionette" had taken its toll. The puppet, a manifestation of her ability, had exacted a price that was painfully clear. She had unleashed a force of destruction that could only be contained by her own life force, and now, as the ritual’s effects began to consume her, it was clear that the cost was far greater than he had ever imagined.

Her gaze met his, a mixture of relief and sorrow in her eyes. "Chuuya..." she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling remnants of the power that had once surged through the building. There was a finality to her tone, an acceptance of the fate that had been sealed by her own choices.

His heart ached as he moved to her side, reaching out in a futile attempt to bridge the gap that had grown between them. He had wanted to protect her, to shield her from the worst of their world, but in doing so, he had failed her in the most crucial moment. The realization hit him with a crushing weight—his absence had led to a loss he could never fully comprehend.

As she fell to the ground, her strength waning, he held her in his arms, the enormity of the situation crashing down around him. The world they had fought to protect was now a stark reminder of the cost of their choices, the price of power and love interwoven in a tapestry of tragedy. The light of the neon glow faded, leaving only the echoes of their struggle and the heavy silence of a world forever changed.

In that moment, Chuuya held her close, his tears mingling with the dust and debris that surrounded them.

“Y/N, hold on… You can do this. You’ve got to hang on... I will destroy the puppet. Where is it?” His voice was ragged, strained by the relentless tide of his grief, an anguished plea that seemed to reach out into the void.

She looked at him with eyes growing dim, her strength ebbing away like a fading tide. She reaches out, placing her hand softly on his right cheek. "It’s too late now, Chuuya," she said, her voice a fragile whisper. "Please, take care of my sister and the mafia... I leave everything to you." Her words, though soft, carried the finality of a conclusion drawn long before, as the life drained from her. Her hand hit the ground lifelessly.

" I didn't even have the chance to kiss you. To tell you how much I loved you. Don't leave me alone in this cruel world! " He buries his face into the crook of her lifeless neck sobbing and holding her close.

Chuuya's heart shattered as he clung to her, his voice breaking with anguished regret. "I didn’t even get the chance to hold you in my arms, to wake up to you by my side, to tell you how deeply I loved you. Don’t leave me... please..." His sobs wracking his body, a poignant lament for a love left unspoken and a future now lost.

"You lied to me... you promised me that you'd take care of yourself... please...Y/N..." His plea hung in the air, a raw cry against the encroaching silence of her fading life.

The love they had fought to maintain, the connection they had both yearned for—it had all came to an end. As the life drained from her, he could only hold onto the bittersweet memory of what they had shared, knowing that their story had ended in a way he could never have anticipated.

Days passed, each one marked by the hollow ache of Chuuya’s grief. The world continued its indifferent march, but for him, time seemed to stand still in the wake of her loss. He took on the mantle of the mafia boss, a role he had never imagined he would assume, and every decision he made was imbued with the weight of her absence. Her sister was safe, and the organization continued to function, but the emptiness within him remained a chasm that no amount of power or responsibility could fill.

Each night, the office became a sanctuary of despair. Subordinates whispered among themselves, noting the sound of Chuuya’s sobs echoing through the walls. The man who had once been a pillar of strength and resolve was now a figure haunted by his own sorrow, his once-unshakable confidence replaced by a profound and unrelenting grief. The weight of leadership was no solace, only a reminder of the price he had paid.

Every evening, after the office was empty and the city below was cloaked in darkness, Chuuya would make his way to her grave. It was a ritual born of both reverence and desperation—a desperate need to keep her memory alive, to bridge the gap between the living and the dead. There, in the quiet of the cemetery, he would sit beside her grave, speaking to her as if she could hear him.

He would recount the events of his day, the decisions he had made, the struggles he faced as the new head of the mafia. His words were a mixture of mundane details and heartfelt confessions, a dialogue with the shadows of the past.

"Today, we had another power struggle," he would say softly, his voice trembling as he knelt by her grave. "I managed to keep things under control, but it’s never the same without you. I find myself longing for your guidance, for your presence... I’m lost without you."

With each visit, his words became a testament to the depth of his love and the void she had left. The cemetery, once a place of finality, became a space where he could grapple with his grief, where the echoes of their shared past offered a semblance of comfort in the midst of his pain.

And so, Chuuya continued his vigil, bound by the promise he had made and the love that remained unspoken but ever-present. His heart, though heavy and broken, remained steadfast in its devotion to the woman who had been his greatest challenge and his deepest love.

Then came a day like no other. The world trembled as a force beyond comprehension began to assert its presence. A powerful opponent, whose ability was as arcane as it was formidable, had managed to tear through the fabric of reality itself. This adversary wielded a piece of the reality book, a relic of unimaginable power capable of opening gateways between dimensions. As the fabric of their universe rippled and shifted, a rift emerged, a slit in the world that shimmered with an eerie, otherworldly light.

Chuuya stood on the precipice of disbelief in a scattered forest, his heart pounding as the dimensions collided. The air crackled with energy, and he could feel the weight of something monumental happening. His gaze was drawn to the rift, which grew wider, revealing glimpses of another universe beyond—a place of stark contrasts and unfamiliar landscapes.

And then, through the growing breach, he saw her.

There she was, a vision that defied all logic and reason. She stood amidst the chaotic light, her form illuminated by the strange, shimmering energy of the other universe. She looked different, her appearance altered by the peculiarities of the alternate realm, yet it was unmistakably her. Her presence was a beacon in the tumultuous void, a sight that sent a shudder through Chuuya’s very soul.

For a moment, the world around him seemed to cease its relentless march. Time itself appeared to hold its breath as he gazed at her, his emotions a tempest of disbelief, hope, and an unspoken yearning. He reached out, his fingers trembling as if he could touch the fabric of reality and pull her through.

Her eyes met his, and in that fleeting, impossible moment, there was recognition—a silent communication that transcended the barriers of space and dimension. Her expression was one of both sorrow and solace, a reflection of the love and loss that had bound them together in life and now, impossibly, in death.

The sudden, disorienting realization that had hit them both was almost too much to comprehend. Standing at the edge of the rift, they locked eyes, their shared astonishment mirroring each other’s disbelief.

"Boss...?" they both said in unison, their voices echoing in the charged air of the fractured reality. The word was spoken with a mixture of reverence and confusion, as if the title held a gravity that transcended their own worlds.

A/N : Hope you enjoyed it, fellas! Let me know if I shall continue? I'm very excited to finish writing part 2!!!

➵Want more of Chuuya Nakahara ?

[jahayla-parker]

In Time : Tom Holland x Reader

Chapter 11

The End

2k wc and SMAUs , click here for warnings and other chapters

Y/n sat beside Harry as Tom exchanged autographs with Son Heung-min. She watched as Tom paused, looking beside him and then frowning slightly. Before she could ask him what was wrong , his eyes met hers.

Tom’s frown softened into a pout. “Love, come ‘ere,” he requested, shifting on the couch so there was more room for y/n. He smiled as she sat beside him. He kissed her cheek before turning to Son Heung-Min.. “This is my girlfriend , y/n,” Tom said proudly.

liked by harryholland64, yoursername, zendaya, and 9, 362, 916 others

tomholland2013: bts of today’s No Way Home Travel Vlog @/sonypictures

(link in bio)

view all 654,789 comments

yourusername: boyfriend material 😘

tomholland2013: the jersey or me? 🤔

yourusername: do i have to choose? It’s really cozy T

karinainatlanta: stopppp! girl are you stealing Holland’s clothes? 🙌

yourusername: 😇 no comment

harryholland64: @/ karinainatlanta yes, yes, she is… Tom won’t share with me… even though it’s MY last name on the jersey 🙄 but @/yourusername can wear it whenever she wants

tomholland2013: it looks best on her 🥰

hollandfanatic17: Just finished this episode and I cried!

brothersofholland: running to watch now 🏃‍♂️



———

Y/n closed her eyes peacefully as she rested her head on Tom’s shoulder as they sat in the van on the way to the next press event. She felt his lips press tenderly against the top of her head. She hummed as he quietly asked if she was doing okay. She smiled as his arm around her waist tightened lovingly.

Tom took advantage of y/n’s restful state. He slyly nudged Harry and looked over at y/n. When his brother nodded and took his phone out to take a picture for him, Tom smiled and mouthed thank you. Harry grinned But teasingly shook his head. Tom knew he was probably being a bit much, but he just so proud that she’s with him.

Tom watched from the side as y/n chatted with some of the crew backstage at his latest press event. He’d made sure to introduce her to as many people as he could. He couldn’t help but want to show her off. But he also hoped that pointing out her hard work and skill at y/f/h would help her lock down a job she enjoyed here in London. Because he can’t imagine her having to go back to the us. Mostly as she doesn’t want to, she mentioned this herself several times after arriving and getting comfortable with some of the cultural differences. So for her sake he didn’t want for her to have to leave. But truthfully he also didn’t want her to leave simply because he selfishly wanted her to stay for his own sake as well. Lucky for him, it seemed like y/n had picked up on networking early on in the press tour. Tom smiled to himself knowing it should help her land a job she’d enjoy that would also let her stay here.

———

LA premiere

liked by harryholland64, tomholland2013, zendaya, and 3, 795, 528 others

yourusername: The One Where The Press Tour Ends and The North American Premiere Begins. 🕷️❤️

So proud of my incredibly talented and handsome boyfriend, and the rest of the cast and crew! You definitely don’t want to miss this film! ❤️

📸 credit: @/harryholland64

view all 254,789 comments

karinainatlanta: You look like royalty y/n! 👑🔥

yourusername: He sure made me feel like royalty 🥹

tomholland2013: Thank you for coming, my darling xx❤️

yourusername: No place I’d rather be than by your side T😘

nikkihollandphotography: you both look incredible ❤️

hollandfanatic17: That photo is the cutest 😭

parker_13_holland: he took her to the premiere, im deceased!!!!

zendaya: thank you girl, you looked so gorgeous! ❤️❤️❤️

tomholland2013: isn’t she absolutely radiant? 🥰

liked by yourusername, karinainatlanta, hazosterfield, and 8, 964, 271 others

tomholland2013: I can't believe we actually did it. Sharing the screen and my life with these incredible people has been nothing short of life changing. This movie is a labour of love a celebrates three generations of cinema. It truly is a dream come true and I'm forever grateful for all the love and support we've received over the years.

You made this third movie possible and I’m so grateful for that because it gave me the greatest opportunity of my lifetime. This film brought with it the chance to meet the most incredible people; off and on set. It was an experience I’ll never forget.

We love you and thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Enjoy the movie.

P.S. Bring tissues!

view all 996,247 comments

yourusername: forever happily indebted to this film ❤️

tomholland2013: as am I 😘 xxx

karinainatlanta: What a stylish couple! 👏👏

tomholland2013: She makes it easy 😊

yourusername: p.s. YES, definitely bring tissues! That is unless you feel like being a crying mess when you leave the theater cause this talented cast WILL make you cry🕷️❤️

tomholland2013: @/yourusername: you still looked beautiful, xxx

hollandfanatic17: OMG him helping with her heels? 😭

yourusername: 🥹 So unbelievably proud of you honey ❤️

tomholland2013: ❤️🥹

parker_holland: anyone else see they shared the same photo of them embracing and spinning? 😍

toms_wife_13: i saw a tiktok of that moment! It was so cute, she was so happy for him

parker_holland: @/toms_wife_13 plz send me the link! I HAVE to see that!

marevlicious_sam: @/toms_wife_13 me too plz!🙏

harperhollander: curious to see what’s next for them now that the premier is over? 🙄 Finally no more fake media reporting

hollandnews: wtf are you taking about? Look at these photos, the only thing fake here is you. But I agree, can’t wait to see what is in store next for them because they’re here to stay😌

tsholland_4ever: alert! Y/n commented multiple times on this same post! 👀

yourusername: yeah… I couldn’t help it 🤷‍♀️ 😂

tomholand2013: @/yourusername always has my back ❤️

Taglist: @theslayerofthevampires @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @justapurrcat @natswifeysblog15 @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @laylasbunbunny

Tom Holland Masterlist

In Time Series Masterlist Navigation

Peter Parker / Spider-Man Masterlist

All My Works / My Main Masterlist Navigation

[lestappenforever]

Then I want to for obviously Lestappen: 🤤

49. “You're so beautiful." "You are, too, you know."

39.: "Don't leave me alone." "I won't."

xx 😘

Ask, and you shall receive, my lovely. 💕

---

49. "You're so beautiful." "You are, too, you know.", and 39. "Don't leave me alone." "I won't."

Every time they're in Suzuka, Charles really fucking hopes it won't rain.

And every time it does rain, he has a heavy feeling in his chest. In his gut. Because a rainy day in Suzuka always brings back memories of Jules, and the crash that would eventually take Jules from him. From the world.

Although he knows the safety measures that have been impimented as a result of Jules' death have been effective — Romain Grosjean surviving his horrible crash in 2020 was living proof of that — Charles can never rid himself of the hint of anxiety that lingers in the pit of his stomach and in the back of his head whenever it rains in Suzuka.

It doesn't surprise him when it rains at the 2023 Japanese Grand Prix. But it does surprise him that he manages to finish P3 despite it all, just like he had done the year before.

And just like the year before, he's sharing the podium with Max, who of course added another P1 to his absolutely dominating season. The one thing that is different from 2022, though, is the fact that it's Lando standing on the P2 podium step, and not Checo.

It's one of the very few highlights to his otherwise shitty season, and Charles wants to revel in it. Wants to feel happy and proud of himself for managing another podium. Wants to hold on to the joy he sees on the team's faces as he looks down at them with his bottle of champagne in his hand.

And he does, because Charles Leclerc is nothing if not grateful for every positive result he manages.

But there's just something about the rain in Suzuka and the memory of Jules that puts a damper on it all.

It doesn't rain during the podium celebrations, but it does rain later, when Charles is back in his hotel room, standing at the large window and looking at the rain drops pounding against the glass. The rain is so heavy that he can't actually see much aside from the rain.

"You're so beautiful," Max says from the bed behind him, watching as the lights from outside cast a soft glow over the Monégasque's face, making his green eyes sparkle.

The only source of light coming from inside the room is a small lamp on the bedside table, on the opposite side of where Max is laying on his side, propped up on an elbow.

Charles turns his head to glance at him, a soft smile on his face.

"You are, too, you know."

Max mirrors Charles' smile with one of his own as he pushes himself up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed.

Charles turns back to the window as he hears Max coming up behind him, strong arms winding around his waist from behind.

"I bet he's so fucking proud of you up there," Max says, propping his chin on Charles' shoulder and looking up at the night sky outside, even though he can't see much of it through the falling rain. "They both are."

Charles places his hands on top of Max's arms, leaning back into the other man's warmth.

Max is not a religious man by any means and he doesn't know if he truly believes in the concept of heaven. But, he knows how badly Charles wishes for the people he has lost to be able to keep an eye on him, long after they're gone. And it costs him nothing to do his part to assure Charles that they do.

Charles hums. "I wish I could give them something more to be proud of this season."

"You give them plenty to be proud of, every single day," Max says immediately, arms tightening around Charles' waist.

Charles smiles again, a small, soft thing as he leans his head back against Max's shoulder. Max takes advantage of the position by pressing gentle kisses to Charles' exposed neck, making the Monégasque shiver slightly in his arms.

"Cold?" Max asks against the skin of Charles' neck, and Charles shivers again.

"No," he breathes, closing his eyes. "Tickles."

He feels Max smile at that before there's another series of kisses being pressed against his neck.

They stay like that for a long moment, not moving. Not speaking. Just holding on to each other as they listen to the rain against the window.

There's a heaviness in Charles' chest he knows won't disappear until they leave Japan.

"I know you need to go back to your room tonight," Charles begins softly, opening his eyes. "I just —,"

He trails off, biting his lip. They never spend the night together during race weekends, both knowing there's too much of a risk of getting caught.

Max lifts his head from Charles' shoulder and pulls back just enough so he can look at the other man. Charles turns his head to meet his gaze.

He doesn't say anything, waiting for Charles to continue. To elaborate.

"Don't leave me alone. Not tonight."

Max turns him in his arms and reaches up with one hand to cup Charles' cheek, keeping his other arm wrapped around Charles' waist.

"I won't."

It's a promise he makes while brushing his thumb carefully over Charles' cheekbone.

Charles breathes a sigh of relief, not having realized he was holding his breath until that very moment.

Max leans forward, resting their foreheads together.

"Any time you need me to stay, you just tell me. Okay?"

"But what if —,"

"Any time, Charles."

Charles stops trying to argue. Instead, he captures' Max's lips in a kiss. And Max kisses him back, like he does every single time.

The heaviness in Charles' chest isn't going to disappear until he leaves Japan.

But having Max next to him is at least going to make it a little easier to bear.

[frenchfrywrites]

on the topic of tiddies ™, which of the obm cast do you think likes their tits played with most ??

oddly enough my bets are on Lucifer, i bet you could get him to cum just by playing with his tits as he grinds on your thigh, but he'll never admit it.

or mammon, but he's so possessive that any touch by reader/mc could get him to cum

v curious to hear your opinions !! kisses xx

WHEW LOVE your suggestion of lucifer being the one with the most sensitive tits.. very fun

Thoughts under the read more bc I wrote far more than I thought I would

I want to put satan at the top of the list because I like to imagine he adores foreplay and he could have you touch his chest for hours... he could absolutely cum from it alone, and is obsessed with you massaging, biting, bruising, kissing, sucking on, or fucking his tits. He is not picky with how you play with is chest, but you have to give them a lil attention every day. I also think he likes it because he can kiss you while you play with his chest, and he's a silly lil romantic who loves kissing you.

I think I'd put mammon next because (like you said) he's so obsessed with you, and turned on by everything you do to him, that he loves being touched by you anywhere and his chest is soo sensitive to your touch. Also he's absolutely got nipple piercings and looooves having you fuck his tits.

Dia is next because along with having big tits, they're super sensitive, AND he's sooooo in love with you that you could play with his chest for hours and he'd love it

I don't have much of a reason as to why (your propaganda worked..) but I want to put Lucifer high on the list.. I like it being a secret weakness of his. He loves it more than anything, and would never say it (though he does arch his chest towards you while you fuck him; sometimes he's better at showing what he wants than telling you)

Simeon loves having his chest played with, but it's overwhelming for him to have a lot of your attention focused on any one place on his body. He's very sensitive but won't be able to cum from you solely playing with his chest and after a bit might ask you to touch him in other places so he can cum.

Belphie is in the middle for me bc he's largely indifferent (would rather you touch him elsewhere), BUT his chest is so sensitive and i hc him having big boobies, so they're very fun to play with. A perfectly timed tug on one of his nipples, or biting into the meat of his chest will have him seeing stars as he cums.

I think Asmo loves being touched anywhere, but he couldnt sit and have you play with his chest for more than like 15min, he wants to be touched in more fun places!! He loves if you give them some attention, but it's not necessary for him either

Solomon loves to tease you by wearing things bring attention towards his chest, but the only reason is to tease you. As soon as you spend more than 5min or so playing with his chest he gets bored and wants you to touch him elsewhere. He doesn't mind if you play with his chest while you finger him or busy yourself elsewhere, but he gets restless if the main event is you focusing on his chest.

Beel is lower on the list to me bc I can't imagine him being very thrilled by the sensation.... that or he doesn't receive much sensation from his chest at all. He's a total romantic tho, and loves if you rest your head on his chest, or kiss him over his heart, or worship his body in general

idk I can see Barbatos, like Beel, being largely indifferent towards his chest. You could sit there and play with him for a long time, and he'd blush and it feels nice, but it won't satisfy him at all.

Idk if this is a surprise, but Levi's low on the list for me... I think he'd have some chest dysphoria, and would not love attention on his chest. this hc is so weak though, because I constantly write about levi having his chest played with lol

[t4tozier]

answering this ask but cutting out some of it sorry anon <3

Anon here that had the Jace did porn in college idea (also just to be absolutely clear I meant to say “lost half elf twink gets railed by group of viscous half orcs”, not orcas, bloody autocorrect).

Kinda going off that but how about Jace being a pretty popular Cam model like on only fans or something in order to make a bit of extra cash during college and just not stopping once he starts teaching, he also definitely finds it fun and enjoys reading all the comments and feeling wanted.

[rumors start spreading about it when he starts at aguefort and one of the teachers is like it's just a rumor it'll die down] And Jace without even looking up from whatever he’s doing just casually replies that oh yeah it’s all true, they’re my videos (poor Henry hopclap whos worked at aguefort for less than a year and just wanted a drink in the teachers lounge almost choked to death when he hears that).

Porter suddenly makes it his life mission to find those videos. Also to go with Porter having a paladins upbringing and still having a bit of that mindset, he thinks that anyone who does sex work must be desperate and forced into it in some way.

He begins to fantasize about being Jaces knight in shining armour almost and ‘rescuing’ him from it, only for Jace to turn around and be like ‘lol why would I stop I enjoy it plus I get payed?’

Alternatively before Jace became a teacher, Porter during a particularly bad dry spell ends up coming across Jaces video and becomes somewhat of a fan.

And not long after the new sorcery teacher turns up, and holy shit, it’s him (I’m not even sure Porter new Jaces real name at that point and instead only by the online allies he used)

Porter with an almost celebrity like crush of Jace and the knowledge that he’s seen him naked fucking himself with a extra large Goliath sized dildo along with a number of other stuff, just sort of short circuits and completely ignores Jace.

Everyone takes this as Porter being rude and overly gruff, instantly deciding that the young fresh overly friendly sorcery teacher isn’t worth his time, including Jace who then makes it a goal to befriend Porter and takes every opportunity to try and chat and ask him about himself. Xx

okay love this. i love porn/sw aus where they don't stop after getting in a relationship because like. they like doing it and it's not something they need to be "saved" from. i can see jace continuing to make videos even after starting at aguefort and kind of coming down from his club era because like you said, it's some extra money on the side and he has a soft spot for some of his regular fans. i love freak porter hunting down jace's onlyfantasy After finding out that he has one. he's fucked coworkers before what's the harm in jacking off to their page? or subscribing,,,

but also porter being that one tumblr post that's like "i had a crush on a girl and didn't know how to handle it so i slipped a note in her locker that just said 'get out of my school'." that's porter in the second option. jace is also a little freak though and casts detect thoughts one day just out of curiosity and sees That video of him where he used his mage hand to open himself up for a DP. fully just porter's surface thoughts because he glanced at jace when he bent over. perv <3 and then jace starts being all coy and teasing because now he Knows why porter's being the way he is and it's fun to pretend like he has no clue while simultaneously giving this man blue balls.

[onesummertime]

hey... hey. how y'all doin

jia (21+, s/h) back again with the main vocalist of f/f, but this time with a brand spanking new personality and face! as always, discord & ims available for plotting, with the former being preferred! more under the cut, as always. i'll be slowly making the rounds & popping into the ims to say hi and hopefully plot with everyone, but like this and i'll get to u a lil speedier ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

background:

parents separated when she was younger, and mama carted her off to canada claiming she was giving yeoreum a good education & a leg up by raising her in an english speaking country.

moves back to korea years later, because mom scams her way into marrying some well-off guy. mom's happy to let her go-- for yr's sake, ofc. korea's education system is better than canada's. her new man's pockets are deeper than whatever child support check papa han could ever write.

she's cast by everlast through instagram dms, and decides 2 do it for shits and giggles (and because she's got dreams of being the next jiyeon and roly-polying her way through life. mostly shits and giggles, though the popularity boost doesn't hurt either.)

the giggles don't last long, though, because reality checks her. hard. while she falls in love with being an idol, she struggles with the rigorous standards, only ever too much or too little.

eventually, she makes the decision to quit in high school and focus on her studies.

spoiler: she doesn't! so here she is, a high school graduate with mediocre results that get her nowhere near seoul universities. her dad tells her to stop having one foot out the door at all times and figure out what exactly it is that she wants and to focus on that goal.

a twist of fate, and she finds herself on a survival show. this action will have consequences!

starts off strong, but every tv show needs its ratings, and she's an easy villain. people start to criticise her ambition, and she looks more greedy than desperate. a hate train eventually starts, which she takes to heart. stressed and tired, she ends up snapping at a fan-favourite contestant during a lapse of judgment, and ruh-roh!

gets kicked off, unsurprisingly. she sticks around only for the final episode, as contractually obligated, but after that, it's back to the land of moose... meese... for her. doesn't want to talk about it, but...

releases a self-written song on soundcloud, which leads to culture creative's scouting her, and the rest is history.

now:

a study in being split between two worlds, dealing with the fact that everything you wanted isn't quite that, and being everything everywhere all at once.

one of f/f's producers and composers, and will brag about her group to anyone unlucky enough to be within earshot.

a big fan of 2nd gen ggs. doesn't listen to anyone in her own generation, cause like... what? are they meant to be competition?

in that vein, also very confident. never arrogant, because she knows that some shiny new thing could just as quickly take her/their place, so she works insanely hard to keep herself & the group relevant and in the public eye.

big 3: virgo sun, libra moon & sag rising. life of the party, but also a perfectionist... but it's whatever rly.

pretty girl who knows it. still, tell her! would've absolutely been called a diva if she was an actress in the 2000s because she knows what she wants and isn't scared to ask for it.

pls ask me for explanation/context behind a pin off her board because i would be so happy to answer xx

[dearaliya]

Five Nights at Freddy's: My longest love affair

Dear Aliya,

I know we have spoken at length about this, but what can I say? I always come back.

I cannot remember a time I have not be utterly obsessed with FNAF and I know there's probably not a time you could remember either. From day one I was enthralled, perhaps it was Markiplier's doing, but that is an entirely different train of thought.

Through the convoluted timelines, the constant piecing together of snippets and tidbits and everything refusing to make even a hint of sense, I've only wavered once in my love of the franchise. A dark time indeed, but I quickly realised the emptiness in my heart and fully immersed myself in my own weirdness continuing on to today.

How lucky am I that the movie has finally come out! After years of waiting, mostly thinking it was a rumour, I am fed so well by Blumhouse, Scott Cawthon and everyone else that made the movie possible. My rose-coloured glasses may be blocking deeper criticism, but we are all allowed one faultless glance back at our childhood and this has been my choice.

Shall we dot point? And stop me if I might spoil this for you!

Characters All of the favourites were here, as well as some I don't think I expected.

The gang, all beautifully done as costumes and a single animatronic by way of Foxy, stole my heart in an instant. Visual effects can be a tricky thing to handle so having the main characters be practical with only a few helping hands along the way was a choice I couldn't grin wider at. Jim Henson's Creature Shop, I salute you.

Seeing Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) as Mike Schmidt was a crossover I hadn't anticipated and what a time for him. He must be seeing a surge in attention now, considering there's that new Hunger Games movie coming out that I absolutely haven't mentioned. A renaissance for him indeed.

Matthew Lillard?? In my Springtrap?? They wrote this movie for me xx What a gem of a performance, even if the twist was ruined because of casting sheets. I think this was the character they needed to nail because William Afton is the reason anything exists and it's safe to say they nailed him.

My brain sure did itch when I saw Elizabeth Lail, though I didn’t remember her immediately. Lo and behold I do know her and enjoy her previous works, just as much as I enjoyed seeing her play Vanessa! Welcome to the party, you’re earlier than we thought you’d be but no less welcome! I’m excited to see how any sequels plays out, her being here now means a whole new continuity.

Plot For the critics who called it paint-by-numbers, predictable and decidedly unscary I have just one question.

What movie did you think you were coming to see?

FNAF is a franchise that thrives on jumpscares and the anticipation surrounding that, which wears off the longer you're exposed to it. More importantly, it's an adaptation of a game that's been around for a good long while and whose target audience is kids and of course long-standing fans. It's a gateway for anyone new and slightly interested to check out the games, where there is a lot more to interact with given that games are an interactive experience.

That being said, and with a heavy heart I admit, I get where some of the complaints stem from.

Bits and pieces of the story were admittedly disconnected. A few plot points seemed to pop their head in the door, wave and then leave again. My personal sticking point was the aunt who I’m pretty sure died. I'll have to noncommital shrug about it because she doesn't get mentioned again, despite her prominence in the rest of the movie.

Lore Deeply engrossed as I am, I know that nothing is static in the FNAF continuity. A few things remained the same, which is great! William still gets springlocked, Golden Freddy is the most vengeful of the bunch, so on and so forth.

Some things changed.

William is now the father of just Vanessa it seems, no longer Michael, Elizabeth and a third child named ????? which I don't know how to pronounce. If more movies do happen, we're following a new-ish continuity which may further the headaches of the theorists (MatPat you've suffered greatly) but it gives me more content to consume so at least I'll be fed, fat and happy a-la-garfield style.

The books don't follow the games don't follow the movie don't follow the other games and nothing ever sticks or makes sense. It's a very standard affair.

EASTER EGGS

Oh boy was this movie full of fun little treats for the longtime fans! I felt like a zoo animal laden with enrichment activities, there was not a single moment I didn’t spot something in the background and wiggle with glee. I was a very respectful movie guest, no noise from me but I did swat my poor companion several times.

Here are my favourites!

Dream Theory Book

ITS ME, written on the foggy mirror

MatPat, oh how delighted I was to see you.

The crossing road game on one of the thugs shirts.

LivingTombstones Song!

And of course, all the other little treats we were given.

Nothing more comes to mind, so I appreciate you listening to my thoughts. I’ll see you next time, stay well!

Hannah xx

[missmrah]

what did u think of greywaren

I don’t normally get this kind of ask so this is actually exciting for me! Even though I’m still working through a lot of my feelings (and will probably require a re-read at some point to fully process), I’ll try to summarize my current thoughts without direct spoilers… warning: some of my takeaway is not exactly positive. 

I think, for me at least, the plot of The Dreamer Trilogy, and especially Greywaren, often required too much willing suspension of disbelief. 

It suffers from existing within the established universe of The Raven Cycle while attempting to vastly expand upon it. New and then subsequent revelations regarding Dreamers/Dreams, the Mods/Visionaries, and *spoilers* about Ronan himself that were meant to advance the plot and up the stakes, often felt cheaply contrived. Worse, sometimes these contrivances actually felt like Stiefvater was coming just shy of retconning the events of her previous works, retroactively adding to the narrative to the point of making it nearly unrecognizable. 

This meant that as I found myself constantly having to reevaluate my understanding of how this universe operates it wasn’t generally in a way that I felt the storytelling had earned; there weren’t enough satisfying moments of, “OMG, I should have/didn’t see that coming (that’s so cool)?!” Instead, my response was more often, “Oh… yeah okay. I guess I can accept that.” To be clear, this didn’t ruin my enjoyment, but the fact is, I might have genuinely loved the events and twists in Greywaren if there had been a little more groundwork to make them feel less unprecedented (an example would be the nature/origin of the Visionaries, which introduced about a million questions and the only explanations we were given were the ones convenient for the immediate story, which unfortunately I remain unconvinced made much sense within the context of the universe?) For me, a little extra thoughtful foreshadowing would have gone a long way. (To be honest, I felt this way sometimes while reading Blue Lily, Lily Blue and also The Raven King). Ultimately, if TDT had existed independent of TRC, the extended scope of the world and the magic that exists in it wouldn’t have introduced so many glaring gaps in consistency… but therein lies another problem: if it hadn’t been about the Lynch brothers I might not have read it in the first place.

All of that said, I actually did really enjoy Greywaren, and I came around to some of the story choices that at first I had found hard to swallow. Stiefvater’s dedication to character exploration and development in both TRC and TDT is what really makes her writing shine and both these series bring to life a compelling cast of characters that practically spill off the page with their raw and messy emotions, at once loveable and agonizingly human and so very deeply and beautifully flawed. In the end, I find that the heart she brings to these characters and their feelings and relationships with one another is more than enough to make up for the confounding plot twists that occasionally lead to somewhat bewildering or unsatisfying payoffs. But really, so what if I’m not overly attached to the world building? Let’s not pretend my investment in these novels was ever for anything other than the emotional journey of Ronan Lynch et all—and later Hennessy and co as I came to love them too—and in that department I think Greywaren absolutely delivered. (I might have liked to see more Adam Parrish, and more mentions of his dreamt motorcycle too… but this is why we have fanfic!)

I hope this wasn't too long, sometimes I get carried away xx

[steelycunt]

you having your hater moment is actually Everything to me and the worst ships list is... well it just needed to be said really :/ love hearing you talk about r soooo top 5 worst remus head-canons you've heard?

hey omg!! i am so glad people didnt mind me having my hater moment im not built for mean anons frankly xx and worst head-canons!! can absolutely do that!! can only think of three though rather than five honestly because i am very good at sheltering myself from bad r takes xx so im sure there are worse out there but luckily i have managed to avoid being subjected to them xx

3. the chocolate thing. oh good lord retire it.

2. anything where his lycanthropy turns him into some weird possessive alpha guy. like sorry regardless of what time of month it is he's soo brittle and snappable face it.

1. the uhh. any sort of super-hot conventionally attractive conception of r. any hc that involves him being cast as a hot guy. if you genuinely think he is a hot-coded character i feel there is such a vast difference between our interpretations of this guy that they may as well be different people.

[scarlet-star-witch]

Can you please do fingering smut with Steve where the reader squirts for the first time and the reader is super embarrassed/shy but Steve is super turned on and absolutely loves it? Maybe when they’re on a little getaway together at a lake house in the summer? Lol my dream 😩 thank you! 🥰

This is just filth, enjoy! xx

~~

“You sure they’re not gonna mind that we’re here?” She asked, looking around at the fancy lake house in awe. 

Steve just shrugged. “Not like they’re gonna be using it.” 

He used to hate when his parents were constantly on work trips, leaving him alone more often than not, until he realized just how much alone time that left him with the girl of his dreams. His parents' absence started to feel like a blessing.

He kept his eyes on hers, smirking cheekily as he dropped their bags and crept up behind her, snaking his arms around her waist as he began to plant kisses down the length of her neck.

“You wanna go check out the lake?” 

“By ‘check out’ you mean…”

Steve’s smirk only grew more wicked and he nipped at her ear playfully. “I mean going for a swim… and more.”

“Right.” She drawled out sarcastically, knowing exactly what the two of them would be doing all weekend. 

Miraculously, they managed to make their way down to the water. Steve’s heated gaze never left her form, watching with wide, eager eyes the way the sun casted shadows over her skin, all the tantalizing skin her skimpy bathing suit allowed him to see.

He felt his entire body heat as he watched her swim through the blue waves, his eyes trailing down the droplets of water that trailed over her as she resurfaced. 

She caught his heated stare and laughed, biting her lip teasingly. “You gonna come in or just watch?”

“Well, I am enjoying the view.”

“I think it’s my turn to enjoy the view.” She drawled out, satisfaction rolling through her as the heated look in Steve’s eyes grew darker with lust.

It was soon her turn to stare admiringly as Steve stood from the dock and jumped into the water beside her. She giggled happily as he splashed her obnoxiously, shielding her face from the onslaught of waves. 

As she moved her hands away from her face she was met by Steve’s heated eyes on hers. Her smile faltered, the cute, lighthearted moment dissipating as the lust between them reached a peak they could no longer delay.

Steve swam towards her, his arms moving around her waist, holding her up as her legs wrapped around him, and he wasted no time in catching her lips eagerly.

They kissed heatedly, both of them smiling at the greedy touches given by the other. Her hands snaked into his hair and pulled, smirking at the stunted groan that left him. She knew his weaknesses by heart.

His hands gripped her tightly, his fingers finding their way under the hem of her bathing suit, his intentions with her clear. 

“We should-” She tried to say, but his desperate lips barely left hers. “We should go inside.” She breathed heavily, finally able to pull away from his unrelenting kiss. Though the way he began to nibble down the length of her neck didn’t make it any easier for her to find her words. 

Steve refused to let this moment end, his touch never straying from her body, his lips never leaving their eager trail up to her jaw to capture her lips again. 

“Steve,” She moaned. “I don’t want anyone to see us.”

He pulled away from her with a low, annoyed groan, letting his forehead rest against hers. “Fine.” He relented and she couldn’t help but laugh as he practically jumped back onto the dock and reached his hand out to haul her out of the water.

Barely a minute later, they found themselves in a wet, tangle of limbs on the couch, her body writhing under his touch.

He had two fingers thrusting in and out of her wet heat, the sound of his ministrations barely heard over her loud, keening moans. 

Steve’s lips were parted in awe, his chest heaving as he looked down at her, watching as her eyes fluttered shut as he curled his fingers in just the right way. 

“Oh god, Steve, right there.” She panted, her leg raising to wrap over his waist and as he let a third finger join in, she swore she felt a fire ignite within her. She yelped, her head throwing back against the arm of the couch, her nails forming crescent moons on his shoulders. 

Steve hissed at the feeling and huffed out a laugh. “Jesus, baby, you’re so fucking hot.” He moaned, his voice barely above a whisper. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d done this for her, far from it, but he’d never heard her this whiny, this desperate before. It drove him wild. 

The coil that built within her came quicker than she thought it would and she was left unable to utter anything other than his name, the desperate loop of his name moaned by her raspy voice bound to get them caught by neighbors on the other side of the lake. 

“Steve-” She went to warn him, though her breath got caught in her throat at that blinding feeling of his fingers curling tantalizingly. 

Something was different. She didn’t know what it was, but a feeling, more intense than she’d ever felt before, crashed over her like a tidal wave, making her limbs lock in preparation for what was promising to be an intense release. 

“Right there?” Steve asked with a smirk, though he already knew he was hitting the right spot by the way her voice rose in pitch and volume, calling out for him like it was all she knew how to do.

“Yes, yes! Steve!” She yelled, her nails dragging down the length of his back harshly. Her back arched, a shrill scream escaping her lips before she abruptly went quiet. Steve looked up to watch her, a delighted smile on his face as he watched her face twist in pleasure, her mouth parted with a silent scream.

His eyes widened as he felt an unfamiliar wetness on his hands. He looked down and he could’ve sworn he almost came then and there. 

“Fuck… holy shit baby, that was so hot.” He breathed out.

Still riding the wave of her orgams, her eyes lazily fluttered open and she looked down to see the mess she had made over his arms. 

“Oh my god.” She moaned and covered her face with her hands. 

That had certainly never happened before. 

“No, no, no, don’t you dare hide from me.” Steve said as he took her hands in his, revealing her embarrassed expression. “That was the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen.” 

She looked up at her boyfriend who was practically panting over her and the bashfulness began to fade. “Really?”

“Really.” He assured her. He leaned down and kissed her soundly, moaning against her. “Think you can do it again?” He mumbled against her lips and she smiled.

She knew she was in for a long night.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Hello! I love your blog and I was just wondering if you had any LGBT+ headcanons for Pride Month?

Happy Pride 🌈

Hmm, let me tackle human characters first.

Earl of Norramby is gay. Obviously.

Nancy is bi and demi.

Also... in classic "at first I was joking, but now I really like it" fashion… I HC the first Fat Controller as trans.

No one ever named their child Topham Hatt OK????

But a sufficiently ballsy dude might choose it if they were forming a new legal identity. And we know Hatt I was ballsy indeed. He stole everything that his neighbors didn't have nailed down and some things they did. He bricked up a gauntletted line even though it shut down his railway. He told the LMS to pound sand. He drained Tidmouth despite the fishermen wanting his head on a platter. You'd have to be a VERY strong personality to be such a successful, powerful transman in the early 1900s but you'd have to be a strong personality to be him anyway???? I'm serious. An ADHD transman with zero chill who literally made his own world. I'm tempted to write a fic of the Young Topham days, who knows. Those old British schoolgirls could be tough birds and I love reading their bits whenever they break through conventional history. I like to think the first Lady Hatt used to be a roommate of him at the girls' school they attended. Jane probably helped him the night he ran away to get a job at the GWR shops. And then maybe she didn't see him again until after he transitioned and became successful and he wooed her for a little while before the reveal that it was her old friend, Euphemia or whoever.

And Jane was soooo pissed off. (Luckily she was also in love.)

I also absolutely adore the idea of an FC5 (not sure Richard will ever get a chance to be FC4, at this rate) who is a woman. But butch. Everyone calls her "sir" but she is also she.

Okay, vehicles! This is where I've hesitated, unsure if I can make myself clear.

I don't particularly vibe with putting human gender and sexual labels on them.

This is not because I want to erase or minimize the diversity of human gender and sexuality.

It's because they are not human.

I mean, okay, I do have my old 'conversion AU,' so I do mentally play around with them as human every so often—to catch most readers up, my notion was that sometime within the 2020s-2040s a large portion of our cast is turned into humans as a fancy alternative to maintaining or retiring them as engines. But even in this AU the whole point is that they adjust to being human but are still rather 'alien', so, like many fans, I kinda take it that they are pansexual by default. There are some more specific things, though (incomplete because, again, I don't think of my human AU very often, so I still have a lot of question marks):

Thomas, I think, would be aromantic

Bertie -> also aro

Edward -> intersex (specifically XX male)

Henry -> gay gay homosexual gay

Gordon -> some sort of greyscale but also he has no clue about this and pursues (straight) dating because it's the 'normal' thing to do (good luck, dude)

James -> will figure out his human gender identity only if given another hundred years to experiment

Percy -> fine with identifying as male but also quite gnc

Toby -> straight and demisexual

Duck -> agender

Stepney -> nonbinary

Donald -> asexual spectrum (unlike Gordon he does know this about himself)

Emily -> lesbian lesbian homosexual lesbian

Philip -> multigender

Harold -> pan. i know i said pan is kind of the default for ex-vehicles but Harold merits a special mention for being, uhh. how shall we say. very sex-positive. a big gallant flirt.

But, again, I'm not too interested in forcing myself to figure out everyone's full identity profile in my human AU because I find the concept of 'gender' and 'sexuality' in them as trains to be far more interesting.

From a creative standpoint, it's actually a lot of fun to play them 'straight' but to use their experiences to explore the whole concept of gender, to push the idea of sexuality to its limits, and also to play around with metaphors for human identities...

Again I know it looks like LGBT erasure but, well. It feels very queer to me.

Here's some of how I see engine gender history. The allegory to real-life stuff is not intentional; it just sort of naturally sprung up when I played around:

At the period (RWS) canon begins, the normal, "natural" order of things is for an engine to be romantically bonded with their coaches.

This very much has a similar status to human heterosexual marriage. It appears to have the seal of tradition. It's acceptable. It's expected. In general (subject to the approval of your manager) it's allowed. (Yes, there is the obvious difference that the union is between one engine and several coaches but it was rare that the convention was for you to exclusively commit to one among the rest. Basically... harem culture I guess.)

If you were built to privilege—if you actually had some coaches you regularly handled, and you did feel this sort of special bond with them—then you might fail to have any occasion to start asking some otherwise very... obvious questions.

Such as:

What if you and your coaches despise each other?

What if you develop particular feelings about just one or two of 'your' coaches, which are increasingly impossible to hide? Like... do you have to?

What if you feel absolutely neutral about your coaches, but your firebox starts to burn with the heat of a thousand suns when you catch sight of that smart tank engine runabout at the end of the line?

What if your line is so big and busy that you don't have coaches that you pull 'regularly'?

What if your railway grows so big that you hardly see any coaches consistently?

What if you are strictly a goods engine and you've only ever exchanged five words in your life with any coach? Okay, so you're just... condemned through no choice of your own to solitude and abstinence, with no hope of happiness? Sounds like horseshit, doesn't it?...

... Say, what's this whisper you hear from the old wheels that fifty years ago the managers didn't approve of these kinds of relationships? That Back In the Day this sort of romantic attachment that is now considered 'the norm' was actually considered scandalous and beyond the pale? What?

'Fifty years' is just an average; different regions and railways progressed at different rates. But, in general, the earliest period of rail history saw an insistence that Useful Engines don't have any such attachments at all. For all its pomp and status, the model of 'passenger engine and coaches' was itself considered quite unnatural before it won acceptance.

But for a good period circa 1900 it was The Thing That Was Done. It became the norm by which rail romances are still rather judged. And it's telling: although humans tended to assign engines human gender (at first usually female; as the idea of a romantic bond between engine and carriages became normalized, humans started to see their engines as male, in a reflection of human marriage), probably the best analogue for vehicular gender remains type. Powered vehicles are one gender; unpowered stock is another. There are also gradiations within those two poles, of course.

And, when freed from human surveillance and control, vehicle sexuality tends to express its preferences in that way. So, to take engines: They very rarely give a rat's ass as to whether a potential mate is male, female, nonbinary, whatever. They recognize the distinctions among themselves but they are seldom relevant in matters of attraction ever, really. Instead, an engine might have an attraction to rolling stock or other engines (or of course both! but 'both' is definitely not a given). Then, within those categories, they are very likely to instinctively be attracted to a subcategory pool based on vehicle type.

I feel like I should give examples but I actually feel more comfortable using my OCs to illustrate:

Joscelyn — a female engine who is attracted to coaches exclusively (she is also absolutely terrible at forming any such connections so she is effectively maidenless)

Skimmer — a male engine who is attracted to both coaches and other engines. This does saddle him with the stereotype of being kind of slutty. (I mean he is kind of slutty but he is judged as such based on his 'sexuality' rather than his actual history.)

Poppet — at the risk of spoilers... she is attracted exclusively to trucks and lorries (which, in her era and culture, is definitely one of the more transgressive "sexualities" for an engine!)

Lizbet (she was formerly Lillibet but I didn't realise at the time how that nickname is not quite so rare and quirky for Brits as it is for us) — attracted to other engines exclusively (which—of course!—means m, f, and nb engines; no meaningful difference from an engine PoV). She is old enough that this 'inversion' caused her significant trouble with her humans back in her day. (She never exactly repented, albeit she did act circumspectly to preserve her friendships with the engines she lived with.)

Araby — male engine who has a hopeless thing for ships. When he worked a landlocked railway this didn't matter. When he was sent to Sodor for a while... oof! did our boy have an awakening...

Columbine (this is a real-life engine, of course) — the equivalent of human 'pansexuality'; she is potentially attracted to anything with wheels

Coppernob (same; sue me) — the loco equivalent of 'asexual'. He does know how to play the role of gallant beau to lovely coaches (which he had to learn late—it wasn't tolerated on the F.R. during his first couple of decades) but I reckon he just thought everyone played it as a role and will be endlessly baffled as engines over the years assert their rights to form bonds with each other because why do you all care about this so much? it was just a bit we had to do for a while for respectability... innit?

Because a vehicle's build is essentially their "gender," that means that I have long kind of viewed rebuilds as having strong metaphorical ties to gender reassignment!

Absolutely horrifying when imposed upon you against your will, of course.

But I imagine there are lots of cases where it wasn't. You can usually tell by whether or not the engine (or whatever) thrived after the rebuild. While I consider 'human AU' Henry to be cis, I read 'engine' Henry's history as very much a trans allegory: he was originally made wrong. I mean his builder canonically had no idea what he was doing! The form he got later at Crewe at last made him into himself. There are plenty of real-life cases that I like to see as similar in an RWS universe. The SECR 'Rivers' had endless problems and angst in their original form; being converted into tender engines felt right for them. Some of them had been consciously eating their heart out wanting such an impossible change for years. The 'Queen Mary' type brakevans I consider to be similar, or at least some of them: unhappy as locomotives, never really feeling right as an engine, perhaps even pestering the engineers for ages to make them into brakevans...

Of course, I don't consider all such transitions to be successful. Some engines, like poor No. 62768 of the LNER., found themselves much unhappier after their rebuild (he was just chosen at random when he was in the shop for repairs, it's not like he wanted it!) Then there are situations like the GWR autotanks who were given panelling to disguise their locomotive nature so they could pass as coaches. Do I read this as cross-dressing, or a sort of cosmetic transition? You bet I do! 😇

Can an engine be assigned a human gender but later determine that it was given to them in error? I mean, it's possible and it happens that engines choose a new human gender but it's quite rare, rarer by far than in humans. They are much more preoccupied with the engine dimensions of their identity. What is much more common is actually what I suppose we'd consider genderfluid or multigender: Various owners (or, if they are unnamed, drivers) over the course of their career might assign them different genders and in virtually all cases the engine (to forgive the pun) rolls with it, untroubled by being a 'he' one decade, a 'she' the next, and perhaps later again being a 'he' even while he answers to the name Lady Eleanor or whatever. To them human gender is very arbitrary and they tend to be perfectly content to just go with it. Often they wish to choose their own name, but even very early in their lives their builders or owners have already gendered them and they seldom care to change that because, again. That bit is all very arbitrary and meaningless to them. The humans seldom treat their engines differently no matter what gender is assigned and therefore the engine sees little distinction.

Soooo, yeah. As for some of our characters, well... this is also very unformed and embryonic still, but...

I do think a lot of our classic lads would have thought they had No Romantic Feelings Whatsoever. Some genuinely were! Neville and Donald spring to mind (Donald is also Duck’s queerplatonic partner, natch.) But for most of them, this was just because they didn't care for coaches, nor indeed other engines of their own type.

However, I reckon as the decades went on their complacency was shattered. (I call it complacency not because acephobia isn't a thing but because for engines in this universe 'asexual' would be considered a positive trait. Useful Engines Don't and all that. So there is some privilege there.) For instance, Thomas may find that he is attracted to non-rail vehicles? And Percy definitely has a thing for flying vehicles, poor chap... (Percy also has long been comfortably attracted to engines, coaches, and ships too. But whirlybirds, man. Kinda ruined/enhanced his life.) James and Gordon found that they weren't "above" such ridiculous things as "playing at" love; they were just diesel-sexual. Henry liked other engines for a long time, so he is open to steam and diesel; he did however get knocked through a loop of his own within this century when he encountered his first electric car and was absolutely useless for the two hours afterwards...

Anyway. God it's late and I hope this makes sense. In any case I don't see the engines as 'gay' or 'straight' or whatever but I do think they have as much gender and sexuality diversity as we humans do; in fact they probably have a good deal more! I also think that they have had a long struggle for most of these identities to be accepted. So they get it. And, most of all, engines would absolutely not understand homophobia at all. Human gender is such an arbitrary thing! Why anyone would get so hung up on policing something like that is baffling to them. They are keen to be of service to all humans, they really love seeing all humans happy, and apart from that they don't have any opinions on humans' peculiar romantic or sexual lives (they barely understand what human sex is!)

Now, how humans board trains or polish an engine or mend their fences or behave in any way even remotely connected to the running of their railway or yard... well, that they have opinions on. Strong opinions. That they will argue with you about. That matters. ;)

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided)  ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

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It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too. 

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby. 

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air. 

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully. 

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr. 

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby? 

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too. 

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen. 

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration. 

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic 

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised. 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively  good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls.  The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly,  “get my pretty name out of your mouth.” 

There’s a pause full of tense silence. 

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.” 

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis. 

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

  ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing. 

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan. 

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour 

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. 

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno. 

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi. 

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

 Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[demilitarised-zone]

how does Thermite act with a woman operator (rather shy/discreet) who interests him? thanks for ur work xx

Thank you for the request! I'm sorry it took so long, but I ended up wanting to perfect this story as much as I could, then I got stuck at the ending. Luckily my dear friend @inkerdinker came through and helped me. So special thanks to one of the best artists I know here on Tumblr!❤

Thermite is often described as an 'evil mastermind', someone just as loud and fiery as his exothermic charges. Which is exactly why Hibana had to stifle a snort when he looked just like a scolded schoolboy sat before his principal; eyes cast to the ground in an open refusal to meet hers, or perhaps he was just too abashed to. There was something so... Odd about seeing this well known and respected operator, a specialist on his field like no other, so utterly disarmed. Kinda cute, almost. (Not that she'd ever admit that though.)

There's innocence in love is what she believed, and now bore witness to, as the soldier who taught her about combat and warfare struggled to talk to a woman. It's... Pitiful, to say the least. How he struggles to find the right words in a voice that drops to a baritone as he tries to keep it steady, thinks it makes him seem more confident. He believes he's playing it cool, leaning against that wall, yet his eyes never leave her. Even when she turned away, when her eyes wavered and his never did. The intensity of his stare makes her shy away even more, but he can't help it, the way his eyes stick to her whenever she passes by, whenever he hears her voice from across the room. Perhaps she won't even notice how he looks at her like no other woman existed. She probably won't even notice how he's flirting with her, because he does it all the time, tries to read into her cues and dance at her pace when it's clear just how frustrated he's getting with himself.

There's this... Fear of his that she'll be bound to some other guy before he even mustered up the courage to open about his feelings. Thermite knows he's not the only one she draws the attention of: The stares she gets that ignite his reflexes to punch a whole in the wall, the obvious flirting and invites to the nearby cafè that they promise to pay for- It gets to him. But he's not someone to want to restrict her in any way either, doesn't have the right to.

"So... Let me get this straight.", Hibana looks at him with a smirk edging at her lip corners, "You've been flirting with her basically non-stop. You're frustrated with yourself that you haven't asked her out yet, and you're absolutely, hopelessly in love."

A nod. Blows some air, rubs his neck.

"And you think she's into it, but you're not 100 percent sure. Well, what's keeping you from asking her out then? It's simple. She can say yes or no, and if it's not a clear yes, it's a no."

Thermite huffs.

"That's the thing. It's not that simple. We're like polar opposites. What if she's just polite and I've made a fool of myself this whole time? She's got plenty of choices here, that's for sure."

"Which is exactly why you gotta make a move," Hibana's head shook ever so disapprovingly, "or else you'll miss your chance and hole yourself up in your lab, sulking and burning your hands even more than usual, and Ash will get annoyed again and-", she gasped for air, ready to continue her tirade until Thermite's hands rose in defence.

"Okay, okay. I get it. I'll ask her. As you said, she can say either yes or no. Or maybe she'll take a good look at me, grimace and say 'ew, why would I'-", a smack followed by an "ouch!" that had passerby's raise eyebrows.

"Alright everyone, that's it. Any questions? Ask now or regret later."

Jordan let his eyes wander over every single operator before him, watching their determined gazes and ready stances. A tiring debriefing it had been, robbed him of more sleep that he hoped his face showed. Always the dependable one, wasn't he? A leader as confident as him needs but a nod to signal the others to go and prepare for the upcoming mission. Boots shuffled, murmurs carried out the door that he waited at.

"Sorry to keep you", hand gently laid on her shoulder when it really wanted to squeeze tight for she felt hot to the touch, as if daring him to reach out to her again.

Where was that confidence now, oh big leader?

"I don't mean to keep you long." Shoulders rolled back and straight as a pole did he put on his most award selling, most casual yet charming smirk - somewhere behind his eyes he saw Yumiko giving him a thumbs up. "But I was just wondering if you'd like to go out once all of this is over?"

He lets his words sit, carefully watches her expression. "You don't have to answer now, of course." See if that chance paid off.

A sigh he'd been holding for way too long left him after she went off to her duty. One full of relief as he combed his hair, eyes wandering in the cold debriefing room; so cold it must've been that he seemed to sweat bullets, pulling at the collar of his shirt for some fresh air, trying to get that gear in his chest to stop rattling so.

"See? I told you she'd say yes", a voice rung behind him, smug yet proud all the same. Hibana patted him on the shoulder in blissful ignorance at his wide eyes.

"Yumiko? Have you been listening to us?",a giggle had his head turn towards the door, "Oh c'mon. Not you too, Grace."

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 7)

a/n: aaand part 7 is finally here! however i want to warn yall that we are nearing the end of NHIE, im planning on having one more part and i don’t think it’ll be any longer, so enjoy while it lasts! lmao as always, feedback is very much appreciated!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 5.7k

warning: some slight violence? it’s the good kind, you’ll see lmao

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Sitting in your trailer you stare down at your phone longingly, rereading Harry’s last text.

“Miss you, hope everything is alright. Facetime when you’re free?”

You hate how your chest is aching at such a small and sweet thing. If you had the chance, you’d run into Harry’s arms without a second thought, but you are stuck in Atlanta while he is currently back in LA, feeling farther away than ever, in every sense.

It’s been three weeks since you left the city and parted ways with Harry. You hated it. You absolutely hated how he was looking at you and how you was about to cry in his fucking Range Rover as he was dropping you off at the airport. You tried to make it quick so you don’t get too caught up in the moment, but the moment he kissed you, it was over for you. For a split second you were ready to cancel on the whole movie and just stick with the plans you made before you got the role, but that wasn’t really an option.

Since that day, Harry has been very respectful of your will to keep some distance, he always checks in before trying to call to make sure you have time, he doesn’t text you about the most random things like he used to, maybe because you both are so busy, you basically live on set while he has left for his tour exactly a week ago, and you can tell he is trying his best to never even mention Levi.

The news that you’d have to work with your ex came as a punch in your stomach. Taiki contacted you himself to talk to you about his choice to include Levi in the movie. He has informed you that they all agreed on him at the end of the casting process, but he wanted to make sure it’s okay by you as well. What would have you said? You wouldn’t just start off a project with getting someone out of the movie before filming even started. You had no choice but to suck it up and say that it’s all fine.

Now you are stuck to see him almost every day and spend your free time with him as well since he is always the first one to show up when a little group of the cast is out and about. He has always been such a social butterfly, though now you wish he would just lock himself up in his hotel room and not show up until he is needed on set.

Levi has been trying. He’s been pushing on your nerves, always coming up to chit-chat, like there’s nothing weird or absurd about the situation, but there’s plenty. Seeing that the last time you two saw each other you threw a book at him and he threatened you to sue you if you dare to even say his name ever again. Your breakup was the definition of nasty while the rest of the world just noticed a quiet and uneventful parting, photos disappearing from Instagram and awkward smiles whenever either of you were asked about the other.

While you are all about being civil and professional, what he has been doing feels like he is trying to get under your skin, testing your patience with him, which is starting to run short.

For an outsider he is acting perfectly fine, even human towards you, but you know him all too well, you know all his little tricks and moves because you used to be an expert on the topic of Levi Hudson.

Huffing to yourself you get back to the text and type a quick reply.

“Still on set, I have two more scenes to film. Will text you when I’m back at the hotel xx”

You wish you could call him right away, you wish he was here with you and you wish you didn’t have to go back to set and face Levi once again. You really thought you’d get entirely consumed by work once filming starts and run short on time and energy to even think about Harry, but it hasn’t been the case. He is all you can think about, you always catch yourself wondering what he is doing, how his day has been or if he is thinking about you too. You cling onto your phone the moment they yell Cut! and frantically check if he has texted you. It’s taking a toll on you and you can only hope you’ll last until the movie is wrapped and you can finally join him on tour, just like you planned.

“Hey there,” Maya steps out of her own trailer when you turn the corner and she catches up with you quickly. “Wha’s up?”

“Just plotting how I can leave early,” you huff, making her laugh. You’ve become the closest to her, you right away bonded when you met at the table read and she caught you grimacing behind Levi’s back when you thought no one was looking. She came up and simply told you she doesn’t like him for literal no reason, he just has a punchable face and an alliance was formed right then and there.

“Oh Honey, let me know when you figured it out,” she chuckles, circling an arm around your shoulders as you both make your way to the set laughing.

Trying your best, you focus fully on the job on hand so you can leave as soon as possible, call Harry and go to bed. Today has been way longer than you would have liked and you just need to get away from set, despite how much you enjoy filming in general. Sometime during the taping Harry texts you that he is free whenever you are and will be waiting for your call and it just makes you even keener on leaving.

When filming is finally finished, you find yourself storm out faster than ever, already ringing up Harry as you are walking back towards your trailer. When he answers the call, his smiley face fills the screen and you feel your heart flutter in your chest.

“Hey! Done for the day?” he asks, seemingly eating something as he talks.

“Luckily,” you breathe out. “What are you eating?”

A blush appears on his pixelated face as he glances down and grabs his bowl, showing it into the camera. He is eating your pesto pasta recipe.

“I had a strong craving for it,” he shyly tells. “It’s not as good as yours though.”

“There’s nothing to do different about it, H,” you chuckle.

“I know, but it’s different when you make it,” he smiles and his words warm your chest. Just as you are about to tease him about being so corny, you hear your name being called out. Turning around you see Levi jogging towards you.

“Here we fucking go,” you mumble, not ending the call with Harry who is a little confused about the situation since he can’t see the intruder in your conversation.

“Are you heading back to the hotel?” he asks, catching up with you.

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on sleeping in my trailer,” you answer with a frown.

“Wanna share a car?”

“Why would I?” you simply ask.

“What’s with the attitude, Y/N?” he scoffs as if he was an angel and deserved all the respect on earth.

“Why do you keep coming up to me?”

“Because I’m trying to be nice!” he snaps, but it’s all for the wrong reason. You don’t buy this shit, nice is the last thing he is trying to be and you know that for sure.

“No, you keep getting on my nerves and you know that! We don’t have to interact outside of set and I want to keep it that way, Levi!”

“Now you are being a bitch, Y/N.”

“Excuse you?” Harry’s voice is coming from your phone’s speaker and you suddenly realize that he is still there, listening to the conversation. You glance down at the screen and see his now angry expression on it.

“Who’s that?” Levi nods towards the phone with a frown, but then realization must hit him. “Is that Harry Styles you’re talking to?”

“None of your fucking business, Levi. And leave me the fuck alone.” Turning around you start marching back to your trailer that’s now so close, but once again, his voice stops you.

“You’re making a fool out of yourself, Y/N!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you snap back at him, one hand already on the door handle of your trailer, the other one holding your phone.

“If you think he wants more than just a good fuck and some publicity out of you, you’re delusional.”

“Fuck you, Levi!” you flip him off before walking into the trailer and shutting the door behind you.

With your back against the door you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, fighting with yourself not to go back out and kick him in the stomach. This is how it has been, he starts acting all nice, pretending like he is the good buy, but when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants, he is quick to show his real, asshole self he keeps hidden.

“Angel? You alright?” Harry’s voice brings you back from your thoughts and once again, you realize that he is still in call, staring from the screen with a worried expression on his handsome face.

Taking another deep breath you bring the phone up so he can finally see your face.

“Sorry you had to hear all of that,” you mumble, feeling way more tired than you were just a few minutes ago.

“Don’t apologize, it’s none of your fault. But I gotta ask, has he been this big of a dick since the start?”

“Kind of,” you sigh, walking further inside. You put the phone to the little vanity, propping it up against the mirror as you start washing your makeup off.

“Have you tried doing something against it? You really shouldn’t let him treat you like that.”

“I’m not trying to be the whiny star who gets someone kicked out. I don’t know what others would think if I told Levi is being a jerk to me, because he is fine with everyone else. Maya is the only one who knows about it, so I’m kind of stuck.”

“Then just punch him,” he suggests making you laugh.

“I wish I could.”

“Want to talk about it? I would love to listen to you talk about how big of a dick your ex is and about your hatred towards him,” he tells you, way too excited about the topic and it makes you chuckle.

“Let’s not talk about him, I get enough of him all day. But not enough of you.”

It just slips out, way too cheesy than you intended it to be, but it makes him smile so you don’t mind it.

“Is this your way of being casual?” he chuckles softly.

“Shut up,” you grin. “Tell me about your day while I get ready to leave.”

You listen to Harry tell you about his day in the smallest details as you clean your face, brush your hair out and change into your own clothes, finally feeling like yourself again. You’re talking even when you’re already in the car, but that’s when it ends.

“Talk tomorrow, Angel?” he murmurs, now lying in his bead, propped up against the headboard without a shirt on.

“Yeah. I’ll be off around five so just call me whenever your show is over.”

“Will do. Take care, alright? And… just hang on a little longer.”

“A little?” you huff. “There are still two more months to go.”

“You can do it. Text me whenever you want to talk, alright?” You just quietly nod, ignoring the ache in your chest. You want nothing else than to crawl into bed with him, curl up against him and never leave from under the covers.

“Good night, Angel,” he smiles sweetly.

“Night, H,” you sigh before ending the call.

An hour later you are already in your hotel room, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, lying in bed as you scroll through Instagram, aimlessly opening posts here and there. The explore page is always a mess, you like so many different things that Instagram sometimes can’t decide what to show you, but that’s just how you like it. Lately it’s been a lot of Harry on there, given the fact that you’ve often found yourself lurking photos of him when you were missing him more than the usual.

When a paparazzi photo comes up of him from yesterday, having lunch with Kendall Jenner you can’t help but feel the jealousy ignite a fire inside you. It’s not like you didn’t know they met up, he told you a week before it and even asked if you are cool with it, to which you said that you are not an official item and you’d never tell him not to see a friend, even if it happens to be an ex as well. After all, you were the last one to throw a stone at him since you are now working with yours, even if it’s a living Hell.

But after such a draining day, seeing him have a good time so far away from you with a woman who is not you, your opinion about the situation seems to be different.

You’ve never been that extremely jealous type and you are also very much aware that you have no right to feel this way, but… you do. Scrolling through the few paparazzi photos that has nothing odd on them, just the two of them sitting at a table on a terrace, enjoying their meal and then leaving in separate cars, you can’t help but tear them apart to the tiniest detail, your brain fixated to find the smallest thing that tell you that they have something more than friendship going on, when you also know damn well sure that there’s no such thing. Harry has talked to you openly about his friendship with Kendall, how they tried to make it work two times but both of them ended up the same way: they realized they are far better as just friends and that’s how they’ve been since then.

But because of the distance, your horrible days with Levi and your agonizing feelings about wanting to be with Harry but also not being able to, you find yourself letting out a silent cry as you close the app, but the pictures still haunt you.

Before you could even think twice, you are kneeling in front of the minibar you haven’t touched since you arrived, but now you’re determined to empty it out, paying extra attention to the alcoholic drinks.

You are well aware that it’s not how you should be coping with the situation on hand, but you don’t know what else to do. You were the one who told Harry not to make things official, there’s nothing you can do against the distance between the two of you and you are stuck with Levi for the rest of filming as well. You have no other choices but to somehow dumb the pain that’s been torturing you silently ever since you found out you got the role.

It’s nerve wrecking, because this role means so much to your career, you know it’s your big chance to be finally taken as seriously as you’ve always dreamed about, but does it worth it? If you lose yourself along the way and everything that’s been making you happy lately, does it still worth just to have an Oscar nomination, which is not even guaranteed, just a speculation.

It’s past one am when you run out of drinks, but because of the small portions, you are just buzzing, not really drunk. But it’s enough to make you lose your rationality and snatch your phone from the bed and open your text threat with Harry.

“I miss you. A lot, like a whole lot.”

You send the text before you could change your mind and for your biggest surprise the status changes to seen just a few moments later before the three little dots start dancing on the bottom.

“I miss you too, Angel. Everything alright?”

Harry knows you too well, you wouldn’t just text after you’ve talked on FaceTime before and you’re usually asleep by this time, since filming starts early in the morning usually.

“Do you really miss me?” you write back with a heavy sigh.

“You can’t even imagine how much…”

“Tell me. How much?”

“I’ve written three songs about you since we parted. Does that tell you how much I miss you?”

“Oh fuck!” you choke out, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t want to be in this hotel room anymore, damn the movie, Levi and the Oscar, you need Harry. Now.

“Can’t wait to hear them all.”

“There’ll be plenty more, Angel. Get ready for a whole album!”

The pictures with Kendall are long forgotten. Now you’re just lying in bed, rereading the texts over and over again until your eyelids get too heavy and you fall asleep, still clinging onto the device.

 ***

 After years of being an independent and strong woman you’ve always aspired to be, you find yourself only focusing on two men to keep your nerves stable enough to stop you from breaking down every other day: Oscar and Harry.

The possibility to win an Oscar is what you think of every time Levi is pulling on your nerves, working harder than the devil to make you burst while acting like a saint in front of everyone. His attempts of ruining your days every imaginable are getting worse as the time passes and when thinking about the Oscar doesn’t help, you reach out to Harry. You’ve felt terribly at the beginning when you kept calling him whenever you felt like screaming after an encounter with Levi, even apologized for it, but he made sure you know he doesn’t mind it, not even the tiniest bit.

“I’m happy I’m the one you come to for comfort. I like that you’re thinking about me,” he told you one night when you called him so late, but he still answered.

Today has been extra hard. Two weeks have passed since your little late night breakdown when you emptied your mini bar out and felt like leaving Atlanta as soon as possible. Luckily, the morning came with an ease, though the pain was still there, you just managed to bottle it up enough to make you keep going.

You’ve been on set since 4 in the morning, having shot some scenes during sunrise and you’ve been going since then. Now it’s four pm, you are desperate for a good sleep already, but you still have some hours to go before you can head back to the hotel.

It seems like Levi has made it his mission to make you cry today. His latest favorite thing has been throwing shade about fellow actors who end up being the talk of gossip sites because they’ve dared to go on a public date with another celebrity. So, just to be clear, he is shaming you for being all over the tabloids, people are still speculating about you and Harry and Levi doesn’t hesitate to call you out about that in a sugarcoated way.

All he has been saying all day is “I guess I’m just more careful about my privacy!” or “Everyone is different, but I like to be noticed for my professional success!” but your favorite was “I get it that women need more effort to stay relevant.”

You were shocked how no one else realized how sexist he was, but deep down you weren’t that surprised. Levi successfully brainwashed everyone to make them believe he didn’t think it seriously, when you know for a fact that even if it was just to piss you off, he really meant it. You were once one of those who couldn’t really see how wrong his beliefs are and now you can’t believe you used to ignore all these sexist comments, but now they make your palms itch.

“You know, you once were just like that. I still remember us being on the covers,” you snapped back at him before everyone left for lunch and it was just the two of you, but he just snorted, brushing it off.

“Hated it. Always felt like just a toy they like to throw around.”

You needed all your self-control not to laugh right into his face and then jump at his throat. Instead, you just watch him walk away and you are quick to fetch your phone from your bag to text Harry, but then you realize that he hasn’t texted you back in the past ten hours. Your last four messages are sitting not just unanswered but unread as well so you talk yourself down from sending another one. It’s odd, because he always tells you when he is about to be busy, but he didn’t this time and you wonder if you’ve said or did something that upset him with you enough to stop talking to you. But then you tell yourself that something must have just come up.

“Hey girl!” Maya calls out for you, already dressed in her own clothes since she is done for the day. “I’m heading out to lunch with Timmy, want to join? Please don’t say you’ll just order in and stay in your trailer!”

“Only if Levi is not coming,” you grumble making her chuckle.

“Don’t worry, it’s just gonna be cool people.”

You both take your car to the little diner close to set, you’ve been going there quite often, they have the best pancakes and that’s exactly what you need right now. Timmy is already there sitting at a booth, waving at you happily. Aside from Maya, he is the other person you’ve been quite enjoying spending time with on set, he is a genuine guy and helped you a lot professionally which was a huge boost along this rocky way.

All through lunch you notice that he’s been checking his phone a lot, but you don’t think much of it, he is a busy guy, that you’ve learned already. It’s nice to have some time away from set and you’re thankful that Maya and Timmy are trying their best to make you forget about Levi and that eventually you have to head back.

The three of you return to set about an hour later. When the both of them stick to your side and they keep asking if you are going back to your trailer, you start to suspect something.

“You guys alright?” you ask with a chuckle. “Where else would I go? I still have thirty minutes from my break.”

“Just making sure,” Timmy shrugs. “We’ll walk you there!”

“Yeah! Let us walk to your trailer!” Maya nods in agreement and you give them a glare.

“You guys are weird,” you mumble under your breath.

As the three of you reach your trailer you notice how excited they are acting and you are confused about what’s really happening, but it’s just until you finally throw the door of your trailer open and gasp at the person waiting inside.

“Hello, Angel,” Harry smirks at you, leaning against the wall as you completely freeze.

“Angel! Oh my God!” you hear Maya squeak behind you, but you can’t pay much attention to her or Timmy, because you are busy throwing yourself into Harry’s arm, who envelopes you into his embrace, lifting you up from the ground.

“What are you doing here?” you breathe out, face buried in the crook of his neck.

“Should I not be here?” he jokes chuckling, his hands running up and down your back.

“Well, you are not supposed to, but I’m glad you are!” you chuckle and pulling back you kiss his lips, not able to hold yourself back.

“Thank your costars,” he mumbles nodding towards the door where Maya and Timmy are standing, grinning widely and proud of themselves.

“You guys did this,” you breathe out.

“Well, it was Maya’s idea, and then I was the one to message Harry,” Timmy admits, hiding his hands in his pockets. “Wanted to surprise you.”

“You surely succeeded,” you chuckle and turning back to Harry you hug him again, holding him tight as if he could vanish any moment.

“Alright, we’ll leave you two alone,” Maya chuckles before shutting the door and giving you some privacy.

“So how long are you staying?” you ask, arms circled around his neck.

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time. I need to fly out late tomorrow.”

“You came here for less than 48 hours?” you gasp in disbelief. He has been on the road for weeks now, all the traveling has been hard on him, that you know, yet he still went into the trouble of flying here for such a short time just to be with you.

“If Timothée didn’t reach out I would have still tried to mess around with my schedule to come here. I know how hard it has been for you here, I wanted to help you.”

“Stop or you’ll make me cry,” you chuckle, leaning in for another kiss.

You spend the rest of your break cuddled up on your tiny sofa in your trailer, talking but mostly kissing, because you’ve been missing Harry’s kisses the most probably. When it’s time to head back to set, you need everything in you not to lock the door and just never leave, but your work is calling.

Walking towards set you find yourself lacing your fingers together with Harry’s, to which he smirks at you in satisfaction. You couldn’t give less shit about that people will think the rumors are true, let them! All you want is to be as close to Harry as possible.

As everyone is slowly gathering back, you lounge around the buffet tables with Harry and Timothée, just genuinely having a good time, right until Levi walks in and he freezes upon seeing you with Harry.

At first you are convinced he’s going to come up to you, but luckily, he chooses to keep his distance this time, saving you some stress about what would go down if the two of them were to talk. Harry has definitely noticed his presence as well, but he doesn’t say a word, just holds your hand tight, kissing your knuckles.

Harry sticks around the whole afternoon, watching you film scene after scene and the excitement in his eyes is priceless. He takes every opportunity to praise your work and tell you how amazing you are doing and it means the world to you since it’s the first time Harry is seeing you working.

Through the afternoon, you can feel Levi’s burning glare on you, but you try your best to ignore it. You can tell he doesn’t like having Harry around but you haven’t figured out if it’s because he is jealous of you and him or because now Harry has all the attention he usually has. Either way, he is a petty fucker and you are enjoying pissing him off for once.

When filming finally finishes at six you are one of the first ones to head out, eager to finally be alone with Harry in your hotel room and not be disturbed for the night.

“I would say to pick up something to eat on our way, but maybe we should just order room service, how does that sound?” he asks as the two of you are walking back to your trailer.

“Room service is gonna be perfect,” you smile up at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Y/N!”

The voice calling out your name makes you growl in annoyance. The situation is all too familiar, Levi stopping you on your way back to your trailer with the pure intention of ruin your mood.

Oh for fuck’s sake,” you mumble under your breath before turning around. “What?” you snap back at him, clearly annoyed that he is here again.

“Hey, just… thought I would introduce myself to your friend over here,” he smiles as if it was the most natural thing, but you and Harry stand there, completely confused about how he can act so casual about him meeting Harry.

“I’m sorry, you what?” you question.

“Just wanted to meet Harry,” he tells again. “I’m Levi, nice to meet you,” he nods smiling, holding out his hand and you can’t hold your laughter back. Luckily, Harry is quick to react the best possible way.

“Are you really just gonna pretend like I didn’t hear you call Y/N a bitch the other day?” he asks, voice stern and surprisingly calm, however his hold on your hand is a little tighter now.

Seemingly, Levi is taken aback and you can tell he was convinced Harry wouldn’t bring it up straight to his face, but he did. He definitely just did and you are so happy about that.

“I’m, uhh—I don’t think you have any business in that, Harry,” he chuckles nervously, still trying to somehow dominate in the situation, but he is failing miserably.

“Oh, but I think I do. If you think you can just go around and call women bitches, you are in the wrong and if you ever have just one bad word for Y/N again, I’ll definitely won’t be this calm.”

The cherry on the top is the warm smile on Harry’s lips and your mouth hangs open at how bad he just burnt Levi. If you were alone now, you’d definitely jump his bones right away.

Watching Levi you see the exact moment when he drops the act and before he even opens his nasty mouth, you already know you’ll get another taste of his real self.

“What, you fuck her once and think she is the Queen of England who has to be treated with special care?” he scoffs and your stomach drops. Here he goes with the insults, buckle up!

“Excuse you?” Harry snaps back, clearly losing his patience with him.

“She is not that big of a deal, Styles. Might be a good fuck, but she is a fucking bitch in reality and you’ll see that soon.”

“I think it was just you who made her act that way and that’s entirely your fault, m’ friend. Anyone would be that way if they had to deal with you.”

“You know what? You two deserve each other, two low-life, attention seeker celebs, I just don’t get what people like so much about you. Especially about you,” he adds, eyes snapping to you. Your anger is boiling, he is dancing on your very last nerve and you have no idea how long you can last.

Harry then turns to you, a calm expression on his face, but his eyes tell you otherwise as he simply takes his rings off and places them into your palm, confusing you about what he is really doing.

“I’m sorry in advance, Angel,” he mumbles before taking a step towards Levi and with a simple but graceful move, he punches your scumbag ex.

You gasp as you hear Levi’s groan, his hands flying to his face while Harry shakes his fist off with a heavy sigh.

“Oh fuck, this feels better with a glove on,” Harry breathes out, taking a step back.

“You fucker!” Levi spats as he straightens up. He moves his hand from his face, checking it to see if he is bleeding, but it’s just some redness on his cheek.

“Don’t freak out, princess. You’ll just have to sit some more in the makeup. But Swear to God if you ever speak about her that way,” Harry warns him pointing at him, “You won’t be able to fix it with some powder.”

And with that, Harry grabs your hand and pulls you into the trailer, leaving a shocked and raged out Levi outside. As soon as it’s just the two of you, Harry changes from the confident, protective man to a frightened little puppy as he looks at you.

“I’m so sorry, but I just couldn’t take it any longer. The way he was talking about you and I—“

He doesn’t get to finish because our lips shut him up with the most heated and passionate kiss you two have ever shared. It’s hard and messy, your fingers thread through his hair as he grabs your waist forcefully, yanking you against her tightly.

“That was literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you pant against his lips.

“Yeah? So you’re not mad?”

“I’m only mad because you got to punch him before me,” you chuckle making him laugh as well.

“God, I have no idea how you could put up with him this long,” he breathes out, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m convinced that my nerves are made out of steel,” you joke pecking his lips two more times.

“I don’t even see how you could be in a relationship with him in the first place,” he huffs.

“I was younger and dumber. Don’t worry, learned my lesson,” you laugh, cupping his cheek in the palm of your hand, running your thumb along the soft skin under his eye.

“If I’m being honest, there’s one more thing that’s upsetting me about him.”

“And what is that?”

“Please don’t get mad at me though, okay?” he chuckles softly.

“Just tell me!”

“I’m mad… because he is able to say that he has been in a relationship with you and I’m not. It’s pissing me off, properly,” he admits and your heart skips a beat. “I know you said you don’t want anything official, but I just want to call you mine and—“

You cut him off for the second time now as you kiss him again, grinning against his lips. If he didn’t bring this up now, you would have for sure before he left, because there was no way you would have been able to say goodbye to him again without having all strings tied.

“Just to be sure, was this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?” you smirk, your hands holding onto the base of his neck.

“Kind of? Yeah,” he chuckles softly.

“Alright, cool. Now let’s go back to my hotel room, boyfriend.”

You watch as his eyes light up and leaning down he kisses you again.

“Just so we are on the same page, was this your way of saying yes?”

“Kind of, yeah,” you nod, using his own words.

“Great. Okay, let’s go, girlfriend.”

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[rose2jam]

hi rose!! so glad you’re feeling better <3 !!! could you do a sev/luna bit? i’m not too picky about what happens I just love them both so much hehe xx

for the sev/luna would it to be too big of an ask for like a muggle au and somehow they run into each other at some sort of art museum or so? a play on words where luna thinks the art is magnificent and sev thinks luna is? xx

So, I definitely took some liberties with your prompt :'3 I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you were hoping for, but when I got this idea in my head, I had to run with it. I hope you still enjoy it!

Characters: Severus Snape & Luna Lovegood

Words: 1,412

Rating: T

🐉🐉🐉

La Galerie des Bêtes Fantastiques.

It was an absurd little installation.  You were quite certain the building used to be a pub or something (everything around here had been a pub at some point), all tarnished brick and peeling hardwood, but you were also quite certain that it had been abandoned for years.  Then again, this wasn’t a part of town you typically frequented, and the only reason you were here now, was because Lucius had bailed on you.  Again.  You didn’t know why you continued to give the man the time of day any more.  If you made one more plan for drinks only to have him text that he couldn’t make it, you were going to ghost his posh ass.  But… he also knew where you lived.  There was no escape.

You’d already been one beer in when he’d texted you, and after that, your stomach had turned sour.  You hadn’t felt like drinking alone; there was nothing more pathetic than that.  But you also didn’t feel like taking a cab back home now that you were already here.  So, you found yourself walking the dimly lit streets, glancing into shop fronts, looking for anything that might have made the initial cab fair worth it, when you were suddenly face to face with a human skeleton in a bay window.  Its torso was attached to the skeletal body of a horse, a mockery of a centaur, and probably a taxidermist’s worst nightmare. 

But… it caught your attention.

Ten pounds for admission, and you found yourself walking delicately through the cramped little space.  It was dimly lit with antique style bulbs (probably so you couldn’t get a close look at anything), and it was absolutely crammed floor to ceiling with fantastic beasts.  The walls were lined with antique bookshelves sporting slimy, unidentifiable things floating in jars, small taxidermy displays and skeletal articulations of curious creatures, as well as photographs, footprint castings and fossil samples that were trying very hard to make everything feel authentic.  In addition to the centaur, there was also the skeleton of a mermaid, a jackalope, and a winged dragon.  It was all very… kitsch.  And while there was no denying that everything in this little museum was fake… that didn’t necessarily mean that the bones and fur used to create them were fake, and that made you feel a little uneasy.  The animal bones you could reconcile… but the human ones?

“That’s not actually a dragon, you know.”

You gasped, just barely managing to swallow down a yelp as you jumped back and away from said not-dragon, looking around wildly for the owner of the voice, to find a little blonde head right next to your shoulder.  And she was a little thing; short and petite, more hair than anything else, with an odd-looking pair of winged glasses perched on top of her head, a notebook tucked under her arm, and a camera slung around her neck.  She was gazing wistfully up at the “dragon” hanging from the ceiling, and you wondered why she felt the need to strike up such an… obviously stupid conversation with a complete stranger.  She didn’t make any comment about spooking you, though, so… neither did you.  You merely arched a brow, before joining her in looking up at the display. 

“Of course it’s not a dragon,” you murmured.  It did make you wonder if it was made from the remains of real animals, though.  Some sort of lizard?  A crocodile?  Maybe bat wings?  Did bats even get that big?

“You would think they would know the difference between a Dragon and a Wyvern,” she said airily, tilting her head toward you.  You blinked slowly, glancing over at her, to find that she wasn’t laughing, or even rolling her eyes.  She just had a placid, curious look on her face, and you realized that she was absolutely dead serious.

And you didn’t know what to say.  You didn’t even know what to do.  Part of you thought it was time to turn around and make your escape, but she just kept staring at you with these big, silver eyes, and you felt powerless under such a gaze.  So instead, you cleared your throat, working up your nerve before asking, “Uhm… Remind me?”  And you decided it was well worth playing along to watch her face light up with a bright, excited smile.  Just for you.

“Oh, of course!” she gasped, flipping open the notebook she had, and you leaned over to peer over her shoulder at the scribbled notes and diagrams held within.  “A Dragon has four legs and two wings,” she explained matter-of-factly, like she was answering a routine question for a professor.  “While a wyvern only has two legs, and wings for arms,” she pointed up at the skeleton hanging from the ceiling.  “Like this one!”

You followed her gesture, gazing back up at the Wyvern, before nodding slowly in agreement.  As if you could somehow refute these claims.  “Right, of course,” you deadpanned, waiting for her to break this charade, to burst into giggles and have a good laugh at how silly this all was. 

Instead, she did the exact opposite.

“And then there are Drakes, which are like dragons, but without wings, and Lindwurm’s, which only have front legs and no wings, and also Wyrms, which have no legs or wings at all.”  She was making little gestures to the side with her free hand, her fingers stretching up and down, as if counting the number of legs and wings in her head.  She was speaking so quickly, prattling off these facts so excitedly…  You felt an odd little pang in your chest.  It was incredibly endearing. 

You’d been like that, once upon a time.  Excited to tell anyone who would listen about whatever hyperfixation you were stuck on at the time.  It was usually science, space, chemistry.  You’d used that passion to become the head of the science department at Hogwarts Uni.  But it was also something you had tried to force yourself out of as a child, because nobody wanted to be around you when you went on your tangents.  Strange, annoying, awful little body.  The only person who had ever listened to you had been Lily and…

(and then you’d scared her away too and you’d ended up sucked into a doomsday cult and now you were finally getting your stupid life back together and…)

“Wouldn’t that just be a snake?” you asked suddenly, forcefully derailing that train of thought.  She hadn’t noticed that you’d been preoccupied.  Or if she had noticed, she blessedly hadn’t said anything.  She seemed to ponder on your question for quite some time, before shaking her head.

“I think Wyrms are much bigger than regular snakes,” she said, her tone once again pragmatic, like this was an absolute fact and not just total nonsense.  And you couldn’t help yourself.  This time you grinned.

“Fair point,” you relented, putting some actual thought into your base knowledge of mythology, or cryptozoology, or honestly, just urban legends.  It made you think of when you were a kid, and there was a stupid rumor about a giant snake that lived in the sewers under your school…  “Then would that make a Basilisk a Wyrm?”

There was a short pause, the young woman staring up at you, her mouth in a small ‘o’ as she considered, what must have been an incredibly eye-opening question.  “You know, I’ve actually never thought of that!” she squeaked, clapping her hands together and leaning towards you eagerly.  “I think you might be right!”

Later, you would find yourself back at the bar you were supposed to meet Lucious at, seated at a high-top table with a zoology student named Luna, pouring over her notes about real animals and esoteric ones alike.  You were more than happy to listen to her infodump about dragons and wyrms, to look through her camera full of her Nessie sightings from the holiday she’d taken to Scotland with her father just a few weeks ago, as well as the impressive collection of ghost orbs on her phone.  You’d been surprised when she asked to see you again, and yet, not too surprised at all when she asked if you’d like to search for Jenny Greenteeth in the river near your home.  And to your great surprise, you agreed.  Because really, what did you have to lose?  You could always cancel your plans with Lucius.

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