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restwellsoon · 8 months ago

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Afterhours

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Pairing: Jason Todd x F!Reader

Summary: The Red Hood decides to confront you after work regarding a curious rumor you started as an informant.

/ “You know what I do to bad guys, but what I do to bad girls is even worse.”

Warnings: dubcon, crime lord!Jason Todd/ Red Hood, degradation and humiliation, toys, daddy kink, being called princess, mention of drugs (for the plot)

Scrubbing at your arms to get some kind of warmth, you huffed impatiently. The informant was late. Sure, it was understandable why the Bat would want all contact to be verbal; both of you–well, mainly you–would go down if you were caught. Everyone knew what Cobblepot was capable of. The shorter list of convictions compared to other Gotham criminals didn’t mean that he was less capable, and working for the corporate and legal end of his business meant that you were privy to the real reasons behind the sudden company reorgs.

You shivered before deciding to pace around your office. It wasn’t like the informant to be late. Were they caught? Were you busted? Maybe you should just go home. You spent too many hours working overtime anyway.

The goosebumps weren’t going away. The office A/C that you cherished in the sticky and humid summers of Jersey was now a frigid hell. You weren’t sure of who was punishing you–the Batman or the Penguin.

With the creak of your door, you snapped, “About fuckin’–��

The last word fell into the nylon carpet as you stared into the glowing eyes of the Red Hood. The door slammed shut, and he left it unlocked. It didn’t matter. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get past him anyway. Instead, you froze in front of your desk.

“Yeah, let’s talk about getting fucked.” The robotic drawl of your full name in perfect pronunciation made you grimace as he stepped towards you. Any thoughts of him walking into the wrong office and getting the wrong person were gone. “That was pretty ballsy of you to drop my name in your conversations with the Bat.”

You couldn’t even deny his accusation. You thought you were being clever, that maybe you could do some of that double-crossing shit that the vigilantes and villains played so easily. It seemed easy because you were an amateur; maybe you were fucking up this entire time. All you remembered were the extra zeros in your bank account as you played Batman and your boss.

“Mr. Cobblepot has an image to maintain,” you told the informant–Spanky? Or was it Matches? Either way the name was ridiculous–“so he wouldn’t intentionally let this new drug hit his clubs.”

The latest street drug in Gotham had a similar chemical compound to drugs like buprenorphine and chlordiazepoxide. They eased the symptoms of withdrawal, making a more tolerable and safer transition into sobriety.

“So you’re saying that sobering up his clients isn’t in his best interest?” His mustache twitched, and you wondered if it was glued on or real.

“Exactly. His regular clients would seek out other dealers to get the high they’re used to. They don’t go to the Iceberg Lounge for the atmosphere. They go because it’s one of the safer options to get snowed. Who knows what sort of diabolical shit is mixed into the Black Mask’s supply?”

His mustache wiggled as he hummed. “Well, if it isn’t the Penguin, who else would put this on the streets?”

The informant paid close attention to your words as you paused to give him a new lead.

“Well, if you're looking for the name of a cartel or gang, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I don’t know much about its manufacturing or distribution. I work in communications, so…”

Crossing your arms, you blew some air as you tried to think of a name to distract the Bat and keep your wallet fat. “The only crime lord that would benefit from this is the Red Hood, don’t you think?”

Ever since he first showed up on the scene, he’d been adamant about cleaning up the underbelly of Gotham. His strict rules against selling to kids made the areas he controlled safer. Commissioning this drug and letting it hit the Gotham market was a way to help addiction-addled neighborhoods rebuild.

His expression was unreadable behind his dark glasses. The only way you knew that he was satisfied with your answer was when you heard your bank app ding with the agreement that you’d meet again in two weeks.

At the time, you thought that mentioning the Red Hood was ingenious. Compared to other criminals, the Red Hood seemed to be less vicious towards women. Since his rise to power, there hadn’t been any reports or news about him or his henchmen attacking them. If the informant wanted you to name drop someone, you were going to choose someone who would maybe spare your life. Yet seeing him up close gave you some doubt.

You swallowed your nervousness as you edged to the desk. Your hands blindly reached for something that could do some damage, but alas, your laptop was packed away and your pens were in their drawer.

“Look,” he sighed, “if you’re gonna play dirty, you gotta make sure your opponent can’t find dirt on you.” It was a roundabout way of calling you a dumbass.

You half turned to watch him circle round your desk, kneeling to dial in the combo to your locked drawer. Stupidly, you got closer when you heard the click that told you he opened it successfully. Using your birthday backwards as the combo was enough to deter nosy co-workers but clearly wasn’t not secure enough to deter a crime lord with a vendetta. If you made it out alive, you promised yourself that you’d change all of your passwords to something with stronger security–you’d even make sure that you didn’t repeat them on several accounts.

“Jesus,” the Red Hood laughed through his modulator, “you got the rechargeable one too? I’m not sure if Cobblefield ain’t paying you shit, batteries are expensive, you’re environmentally-conscious,, or it’s some combination of the above.”

The sight of a cross-armed Red Hood with your rabbit vibe in his hands was something you’d never imagine in your wildest dreams.

“Your little toy isn’t the only thing I found out about you.”

Oh god, what else did he find? Your face felt hot from embarrassment.

“Did you know that the sites you go on and the things you search can still be tracked by an establishment’s WiFi network log?”

He was grinning beneath the mask, you just knew it. Bastard.

“Yeah, even if you use your phone on private browsing… Crazy, right?”

All you could muster was a choked ‘yeah’ as you tried to recall everything you looked up in the past week. It was highly likely that the Red Hood looked back at least a month. Now what did you search for that wasn’t related to work?

You didn’t have to recall. He listed it out for you in a painfully slow and enunciated manner.

“Red Hood shirtless, Red Hood legs spread, Red Hood dick size, mask or helmet kink, intro to BDSM, what is a service top… And this was just within the past two weeks, goddamn.” He shook his head in judgment. “Should I continue?”

Fuck.

You couldn’t show fear to these types of people, you learned early on in your career. That’s what they got off on.

“What’s wrong with a woman having a healthy sexual appetite?” You asked defensively. “You some kind of prude or what?” That seemed to get a genuine laugh out of him.

“See, here’s the thing,” he told you, helping himself to your luxury office chair, leaning back as his boots settled on the desk. “Everyone thinks that I’m a bad guy, that I just blindly use violence to punish even badder guys. ‘There aren’t any brains under that hood! He’s just some beefy bastard with a fat cock! An idiot! A dunce!’” If he was speaking in some high-pitched mocking tone, his modulator didn’t catch it. It stayed in that robotic monotone.

Jason paused for a second to see if you’d agree, forgetting that a normal reaction was to be scared shitless and mute. When you didn’t make an indication of anything, those combat boots of his hit the carpet with a thud, chair screeching and lurching forward to see your face. Your toy laid forgotten on the desk.

Audibly you swallowed as you looked at him–well, not really him but the mask that he wore, the bright white of his eyes a stark contrast to the cherry red of his helmet. It was the mystery of what he looked like beneath it that drove your imagination wild. What color were his eyes? His hair? How full were his lips? Did he have scars?

As if knowing that you wanted a better angle, he tilted your chin to comply with your unspoken wish. It wasn’t as if it changed anything; you still knew nothing of his looks, but the cool leather of his glove made you more aware of how starved you were of any kind of touch. That healthy sexual appetite you claimed to have suddenly turned into hunger pangs.

“There was a lot of thought put into this plan, sweetheart,” the Red Hood chided.

His glove left your face to press on some hidden panel close to his jaw. There was a soft click that loosened his helmet.

Then you heard him–somewhat muffled and low and incredibly human.

“See, I’m giving you a pretty sick deal. You get to live out one of your fantasies in exchange for recanting your statement to the Bat. Even if I have nothing to hide, I hate whenever the old man comes sniffing around. Don’t worry. I’ll even promise my protection too in the event of retaliation–from him or Cobblepot. Do we have a deal or not?”

Your voice came out breathier than you realized. “And if I say no?”

He made a show of taking off his helmet, and to your surprise, a red domino mask covered his eyes. Tousling his dark curls, he pursed those perfect lips, “Well, shit. When I was searching through those logs, I figured that you’d be so horny for me that refusing wouldn’t even cross your mind.”

It was starting to make sense why Cobblepot was always irritated after dealing with the Red Hood. You laughed. “Look Hood, the quips were cute at first, but they’re getting old fast. You��re so full of yourself. Now tell me what happens if I refuse.”

“One, if you say yes, you could be full of me too.” You imagined that if he took the domino off that he’d punctuate that sentence with a wink. “And two…”

You could hear the smile in his voice along with something devious. When did he get so close? He was slotted between your legs as you sat on the edge of your desk. The cool feel of his gloves pulled your arms back and held your wrists there, leaving you captive to whatever he had to say.

“You know what I do to bad guys, but what I do to bad girls is even worse.”

“Oh yeah?” you breathed out. Fine, you’d admit it. That was fucking hot. “Then show me.”

“Show you what?”

His thigh nudged your center, pushing your dress skirt up with the motion.

“What you do to bad girls,” you said through gritted teeth. His hold on your wrists kept your upper body in place.

“Say it for me first.”

But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t use your leg to drag him closer. You hooked one leg behind him. Now you could feel his length against you though he wouldn’t budge otherwise.

“Please.”

Nothing.

“Daddy, please.”

“You can be obedient when you want to be, huh? Fuckin’ brat.” Jason found amusement in your frustration. “Sorry, but those aren’t the right words. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, we have a fuckin’ deal.”

Finally that thick thigh was back to putting sweet pressure on your clit, the Red Hood’s slight movements providing teasing friction that kept you slick.

“Atta girl, princess. ‘Fraid I gotta shut you up for a few though. I know your performance reviews say that you’re well-spoken, but they made no mention of you being so damn chatty.”

Before you could talk about the irony of his comment, Jason let your wrists go and stepped back, using his free hands to unzip his pants and pull out his cock and balls. Your mouth hung open at the sight.

Giving it a stroke upwards, his balls followed the movement. Jason smeared his precum over the shaft, giving it a nice shine before ordering you to lay flat on your desk with your head hanging from the edge. His sack looked heavy and full.

“So this is what you meant–”

“Less talking, more sucking,” he grunted, taking the opportunity to shove the tip into your mouth.

The girth was unexpected as your jaw stretched to accommodate his size. You gave it a suck before relaxing your throat to take more of him. Jason eased into you slowly, watching as you swallowed as many inches as you could before pulling out and smearing his spit-laden cock across your mouth. You jerked him while gently sucking on his nuts, thinking about the reward you’d get if you could edge him long enough. The thought of him filling you up with a big, hot load made your center ache.

So focused on your thoughts, you hardly noticed that Jason replaced himself with your toy, watching as your drool frothed and dribbled down your chin while you gagged.

“Be patient with me, princess,” he murmured as he leaned across your body, vibe in hand, to push your panties aside, cock pressing against your cheek. You tried to move your head to take his length but the Red Hood’s weight made it difficult to do so.

Jason wasted no time shoving the entirety of the toy inside you, making you gasp. If you wanted him as desperately as he thought, then he had to prep you well so you could take him.

“Patience,” he lightly scolded you. “Damn, if I knew you were this needy for Daddy’s cock, I would have come earlier so the fun could last longer.” He placed himself back in your throat.

Slow deep breaths through your nose, you reminded yourself. It was difficult though when he was facefucking you in sync with your toy. There was little room for your moans and sighs to escape.

He most definitely understood your muffled ‘FUCK’ when he turned on the toy though, both shaft and rabbit ears vibrating. Your knuckles were white from desperately clutching at whatever you could; you needed something to keep you grounded from the assault on your clit, toy shaped perfectly to hit your G-spot.

The vibe kept making you moan, making your throat squeeze in ways that would make Jason cum early. “That’s it for now,” he said to deaf ears, pulling out to focus on playing with your pussy. He repositioned himself so one hand controlled the toy and the other held you down.

“Is this all you got?” You taunted, sweat catching the neon lights from the window. Your hair was disheveled and stuck to your forehead. Your legs quivered. You looked pathetic.

The Red Hood laughed, and you weren’t sure of what you wanted more of–that mocking robotic modulator or the rich tones of his real voice.

“The way your lips are wrapped around that toy tells me that’s more than enough. If you want this,” his cock was still perfectly hard and this angle highlighted the thick veins that lined his shaft, “then we need to take our time. Luckily for you, I have the patience of a saint.”

“Well, I don’t. Sit down, so I can fuck you.”

He was used to more demure requests to ride him, so your brazen words lit something inside Jason. Fuck it, he thought. He was still annoyed at you mentioning his name to Bruce. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he watched you struggle to take him.

The toy came out with a yank, your pussy aching. The emptiness was only temporary though. There was something more filling, waiting for it.

Seeing that slight look of surprise on his mouth was worth it as you pushed him onto the chair, spitting on his cock before straddling him. Your panties were lost in some dark corner along with your bra. Your disheveled office wear struggled to maintain your modesty with loose buttons and crumpled fabric.

“Mmfph–fuck!”

Your nails dug into the Red Hood’s shoulders as you tried to find your pace. You had about halfway more to go.

“Told ya,” he said smugly, reaching beneath your dress to squeeze your ass. He buried his face in your tits, sucking on whatever flesh he could. You gasped when he finally reached your nipple, his tender suction making you shiver.

“Big motherfucker,” you grumbled, bouncing up and down on what you could with his help.

“Damn, you feel good,” Jason sighed.

Lately he’d been so focused on the complicated aspects of his line of work; it seemed like he could never just chill and do something for himself. Isn’t that what all the experts say? That self-care was important?

So when one of his informants told him that Bruce and his band of bat brats were poking around his turf, Jason’s first thought was to dispose of whoever Bruce paid off. When the informant said that the rat was the Iceberg Lounge’s hot publicist, he considered his first reaction too harsh, that perhaps it’d be best if he investigated this personally. Oh, he was so fucking glad that he did.

With each bounce, he pushed you lower on his length, and he’d go by half-inches if it meant reaching heaven. Fucking you with the toy first was a brilliant idea. Even though you didn’t say it, he knew you came. That’s why you were struggling on his cock. That cute little cunt of yours was still spasming from your first orgasm. How could anyone be so tight and wet, he thought, and for him.

He sat back and watched as you kept riding him with frustration. Your sweet pussy nectar was pooling at the base, and the lewd sounds it made was music to his ears. But the sound of his balls slapping your cheeks would be even nicer.

“Good effort, princess, but you’re starting to look pathetic and needy and desperate. What?” He laughed, swiping his thumb along your pout. “It’s cute. Daddy’ll take care of you.”

He hoisted you off him with ease, giving you another reason to make your pussy throb. A part of you wanted to ask him to fuck you while standing or maybe against the wall. No! A small rational voice told you. Let’s see what he does first.

Laying you on the ground, he pushed your legs back with your ankles on his shoulders, exposing your cunt to cool air. It was slick and puffy from all the work you put in. Taking two fingers, Jason spread your lips so he could tease your clit. Each little movement made you twitch.

Perfect, he thought. He knew how to get you where he wanted. The feeling of his thick, heavy tip rubbing your most sensitive spot made your toes curl as you huffed and moaned at his touch. Your hips pressed up in a weak attempt to slip it in. Your heels were nearly dangling off your feet from the movement.

“Since you want this cock so badly, I’ll give it to you, princess, but we’re doing it my way.”

Eagerly, you nodded. Your way, his way. It didn’t matter as long as he was in you.

Yet quickly you found out that you shouldn’t have agreed so readily. He moved impossibly slow.

“It’s a shame,” he tried to make small talk, one gloved hand carefully keeping the distance between you and his cock while the other balanced his weight above you, “that you chose to work for Cobblepot. How bout you work for me instead? Name your salary–I’ll double it. As a bonus, we can even fuck whenever you want.”

“You act as if I need your cock.”

Ignoring your tone, Jason stated the obvious. You did. Your body practically melted in the carpet when he went completely in.

“Look how full you are. You think you can go back to your toys or another man’s cock after this? I ruined you, princess.” Instead of sounding remorseful, he was proud. “I bet in the days after, you’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout how empty you feel without me.”

You didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of being right–his cock felt so good once you got through that first bit of discomfort–but there was no point in being stubborn. The Red Hood didn’t intend on having you hear him out. He was going to show you.

He fucked you as roughly as you imagined, using long strokes that left both of you breathless. There was something erotic about the sudden silence. There was only heavy breathing and moans, slick sounds and pounding.

And when you came, it was like the lights cut out, eyes squeezed shut for total darkness. The only electricity existed in his touch, sparking waves of pleasure throughout your body.

–

Uncertain if you actually dozed off or not, you woke up to a familiar mechanic hum. He had his helmet back on, his clothes back to their baseline level of grunge. Perhaps it was because of the intimacy you shared, but the Red Hood seemed far less threatening now compared to the start of the night.

“Don’t forget about the deal we made,” he told you, standing near your feet.

Like him, going back to how you normally were was easy now that lust no longer clouded your actions.

“And what if I don’t?” you asked, standing slowly from sore muscles. “Like you said earlier, I am a bad girl.”

“I’ve already planned for that.”

You tried to fix your dress to the best of your abilities. It was no use though. It was a poor victim of your decisions.

“Well, if that’s the case, expect another visit.”

You stalled, letting the fabric fall as you tried to decipher his meaning behind the modulator. Was that a threat or a promise?

“And next time, I’m coming during office hours.”

You let the warm sensation of his cum sliding down your thighs decide for you.

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madamesinsalot · 2 years ago

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What if...

Moon completely accepts the insanity, the sadistic nature, and bloodthirstiness of the retched virus? He relishes in maniacally guarding their home while maiming every unwanted guest that enters the forbidden areas he and Sun’s claimed over time, that much is true. If that was the case though... how did he end up like this?

Ayooo! i finally FINALLY made part 2 of this snippet! I’m tempted to continue the story I’ve kept planning so far should you guys want it! :D please enjoy!

Here’s Sun’s Version, the beginning!

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When you first met Moon after forgetting your belongings one unnerving evening. You expected a lot of mishaps to arise like Chica’s munching escapades, or STAFF bots entering the weirdest areas of the plex. What you’ve never expected was the Lunar animatronic hunched over numerous wrecked robot parts, spasming heavily over the gruesome scene while clutching his wire-exposed spasming arm. From the cryptic warnings your uncle has reminded you of, the jester had every opportunity to throw you out for intruding the facility afterhours, especially when you were caught looking. Yet, instead of enacting the heinous deeds that were described to you... the glitching bot merely guided you out the front doors with only a calm wave, items returned, and that unreadable default smile.

You knew then and there that you had to know more about this msyterious character.

You remember the earful you had gotten from your Uncle the day after. It was brutal. Though you were a tad guilty and apologetic to the old man, your curiosity was far greater just from the reminder of that evening. In fact, it was the sole reason why you started visiting the daycare more frequently ever since. At first, the Moon-like automation was courteous, but wary. Sun moreso. Then that apprehension quickly melted away once they realized you’ve never bared any ill-will since speaking to them. Moon was especially forthcoming towards creating a bond at that point for some unexplained reason. And while you had theories, it didn’t bother you more than the worried glances your Uncle would give you at the mention of the attendant.

Goodness did he want to tell you everything. The unsolved murders both robotic and human, the faulty machinery they’d manipulate to spend more time with you, even the intentional spastic sparks that would shoot out of Moon all the time as a failsafe to talk to you. But the biggest and most troublesome aspect that your stoic Uncle would battle with was the lunar bot’s skilled evasions to getting caught and or decommissioned by the man himself.

Every piece of security footage, any type of recording depicting the attendant in anyway, or written notes your relative would make and stash away would usually end up getting destroyed; sometimes marked off as false information by the higher ups. All of that was Moon’s doing. Sun is the more dangerous, violent, and volatile of the caretaker AI while his counterpart prepared alibis and well-timed distractions, making the sunny jester open to whatever plan he’d receive in their coding to appear inviting and innocent to the public according to Moon’s plan. They made an efficiently menacing team, much to your Uncle’s chagrin.

It quickly became clear that things would be increasingly difficult since your arrival at the Pizza Plex. The wily night-themed animatronic had definitely caught on to your familial relation to the Janitor, taking any advantage to heighten your Uncle’s personal hell. This was especially true when you ended up being romantically pursued by the celestial duo themselves. Improvised dances, mutual petnames and long-lasting hugs were part of his own personal torture, and your own unaware bliss.

The moment... the absolute moment that your Uncle discovered he had truly lost you to the Daycare Attendant, was a seemingly normal night when he finished cleaning the last of the security rooms. He always made sure to find you before completely leaving the premises so as to carpool back to your respective homes, totally not to drag you away from the murder crazy jester. Not at all. Doing so also meant going to the daycare much to his exhaustion. It wasn’t a secret among the rest of the employees that you spend all of your free time there. That night though, things were different. The daycare was dark when the perimeter was brightly lit up. Wandering in, your Uncle fished out his flashlight, taking cautious step after cautious step through the cushioning and calling your name with absolute caution and vigilance. He would even flash his light in every direction when he came across the security desk, with every monitor and screen having been deactivated. An obvious omen. Ducking underneath the bridge led him the display forever seared into his mind. You were peacefully sleeping among pillows and a glowing star-clad lap. Surrounding you... or rather towering over you, was the ominous Moon animatronic. he jerkingly etched huge tears into the fabric of the foam padding. Whether it was due to the glitch, or the flashlight in your Uncle’s hand, the man wasn’t so sure. The sparks flying out of the bot flew out of different parts of the animatronic... it was probably the main reason you ultimately came to the daycare this late at night. Moon’s face though... was less than inviting when he glanced into those hostile eyes.

Seeing that made your Uncle reluctantly stay away within a nearby security room and watch over you through the security cameras for the rest of that night until you woke up hours later. The crazed machine was not helping matters when glaring at the every mounted camera in the Daycare’s vicinity. It wasn’t because he was scared of the lunar nightguard. Not really. No, the real reason he did it was because of the jester’s resolve... it was possessive. Dangerously so. If he hadn’t had years of dealing with their heinous acts to the point of gathering a psychological profile for each alter, he would’ve thought Moon was... protecting you. But that’s impossible! It can’t be true.

Can it?

Safe to say... That question was enough incentive to help your Uncle to stay awake that night... and every evening after that.

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AAAHHHHHHH! I missed you guys SO MUCH! Many things were happening in my hectic life that I had to go away for... yeesh, over a month??? Now that the stress has died down, I’m more than ready to get back into creating that sweet Sun and Moon content again. I’ll start with this and finishing up that Sun’s confession comic. I’ll see you guys until then! Love y’all!

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sweetbillwriting · 3 months ago

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In The Dead of Night

THE LAST CHAPTER

& EPILOGUE

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: Thanks to @b-afterhours for helping me with the language. Picture credit to @hiddlelecki

It was obvious Robin had done something to destroy for Eric, and the only thing I could see it could be, was the relationship with Lotti. The relationship with Simone wasn't good enough to feel a victory over by destroying, and it didn't have anything to do with their relationship either. The thing the two of them had fought about their whole lives was the love from their parents, so it must be that Robin had taken away from Eric.

Eric didn't see Lotti; Lotti even believed he was dead, but that seemed to be his own decision—not anything Robin had forced him to, but Eric grieved his relationship with Lotti, even so loudly he cried over her like a little child. Once again I thought back on Eric's hurt look I had inflicted, and I swallowed dryly. I owed it to him to get to the bottom of this, and if Robin didn't want to talk to me, I must find someone else, someone who had been by Lotti's side more than her sons had in recent years.

×××

I had visited Lotti several times at the home and started to get used to the procedure, but that day I wasn't there to visit her but to talk with someone else; Fiona, her contact nurse, who had the closest relationship to her of all the nurses. I didn't know if she would give me anything because of the patient's confidentiality agreement, but I needed to at least give it a try for both Lotti and Eric. They deserved having a functional relationship, and something obviously stood in the way for that to happen—something Robin had created.

At the reception stood a young nurse I recognized, and with a small smile I asked for Fiona.

“She's with a resident right now, but if you want to, you can wait for her here.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll do that then. Would you let her know I'm here? I just have some questions.” The nurse nodded with a bright smile before turning her gaze back to a laptop. I looked around while waiting and felt my nerves going up by just standing there. Fiona might refuse to talk to me. After ten minutes, I saw her come out from the door behind the reception, and when she saw me, she smiled.

“Here to see Lotti?”

I took a deep inhale and approached the reception again.

“No, I want to talk to you actually.”

Fiona looked at me surprised but then nodded a little.

“Is it a sensitive topic?”

I nodded, and it made Fiona nod too, and then she gestured to me to follow her.

She took me to a little room with a view over the yard and with four armchairs. It felt like the room where they told family members someone had died, and it made me a bit uncomfortable, but I still sat down in one of the armchairs while Fiona fixed coffee from the machine in the corner.

She sat down with a loud exhalation and corrected her ponytail.

“So what can I help you with?”

I looked down at my phone and looked through my phone’s gallery. It was full of pictures of Eric. It wasn't weird; he was so photogenic it would be a crime not to photograph him. I found a picture, modest but sweet, to show Fiona. He sat on the couch, occupied with his sketchbook, brows furrowing deeply. He wore an acid patterned t-shirt; in many of my pictures, he was shirtless. I gave her my phone, and she looked at the picture of him and nodded a little.

“The son she lost?” Fiona said carefully. My gaze lowered into my lap, avoiding the question, but she probably believed it was a yes.

“Did he ever visit her?

Fiona laid my phone on the table and gave me an empathetic look.

“I can't talk about that.”

“But I don't mean to know anything about Lotti, I just want to know if he was here. Fiona looked between my phone on the table and me. My eyes were glassy, and I tried to make my hands stop shaking by dragging them over my jeans-clad thighs. Fiona licked her lips and then nodded.

“Once… Not long before his accident happened. He… He didn't look like he felt so good…” She said everything low, like she was afraid someone would hear her. “Then it was so... It was really awful—his last meeting with his mom, and she didn't recognize him. Robin told me she more or less had screamed at him, and,” Fiona pointed to my phone. “He ran away. I didn't get a chance to talk to him and explain it was a bad day.”

I swallowed hard and dragged my hands over my cheeks. I couldn't even imagine what happened in Eric's head when his mom didn't recognize him, but I could also guess what Lotti saw instead of her youngest son. I had seen the pictures of the unhealthy Eric, thin and pale, hollow-eyed, and then on top of that, all his tattoos. The meeting must have been heartbreaking for Eric. His loving mom screamed in terror at seeing him, the person he loved the most judging him. I laid my hands over my face when I once again could hear my own words to him. Fucking junkie. I was the worst human ever.

“I can't tell you more; I've already said too much…” said Fiona, and I nodded.

“Thank you, thank you…” I said when I had removed my hands from my face. Fiona gave me a small

smile before we said goodbye.

×××

I sat on a bench in one of my town's parks even if the wind blew cold. I looked at Eric's number on my phone. I didn't want anything else than to call him and beg him to forgive me, but I had already done that once, and it felt like it was harder to defend my right to do it.

I wanted to be able to say something real to him—not just whine and beg again, but it also felt like I had something to say.

I tried to paint up a timeline in my head, and for everything I put on it, a more and more clearer picture grew in front of me.

Eric Senior; Robin and Eric's father had died, and it had made Eric lose his footing again. Once again, he started to use drugs. Lotti got in an accident, causing her stroke, and when she met Eric, she couldn't recognize him. Robin got him into rehab, but they also said to Lotti that Eric was dead.

Looking at the timeline, it felt obvious what was missing. Robin had never told Eric it was just a bad day, that Lotti did remember him but just had a confused day. He had let Eric believe his mom saw him just as a druggy guy. Robin had taken his mom away from Eric when he had the chance and left Eric alone, without a family.

I let my tears run down my cheeks slowly while I looked down at the ground. My heart was bleeding for Eric, but I also felt so fooled by Robin. He had been my best friend for two years, and never had I thought he was capable of such an evil crime. I couldn't see another reason to do it than just punish him for being the favorite son, but with this, it became even more understandable why Eric was the favorite. He had a heart of gold, while Robin obviously could let his heart become stone.

Eric needed to know this as fast as possible; he had already missed so much time with Lotti.

×××

It wouldn't be easy to get Eric to listen to me; I knew that, but that didn't make it any less frustrating when he didn't pick up when I called him. I called him every day that week while working in the salon. Robin was sick, but I was quite certain the truth was he didn't want to meet me.

When the weekend came, I had decided to go to Eric, but to my surprise my sister showed up with Odin. I didn't think Robin would keep our schedule, but clearly he would. Desiree looked at me irritated when she just dropped Odin's leash so he could give his wild hello to me.

“Are you fighting again? Come on, you too shouldn't have a dog together!”

I sighed a little while patting Odin's dark fur. It looked like Eric's hair, but Eric's hair was much softer. “He refused to see you.”

“Yeah, because he lied to his mom about Eric being dead,” I said with a pointed look. Desiree looked at me with big eyes; once again, the gossip devil burned in her eyes.

“Seriously??”

“Yeah, because he's jealous. If I could, I would crush his nose!��

“That's insane! But are you and Eric a couple now?”

I gave her a pained look.

“It's so fucking messy, but I will fix it. I know it sounds silly, but I can't live without him. I can't breathe right without him.”

Desiree smiled a little at me and nodded. She probably started to understand Dante wasn't the real deal, Eric was.

“What is your plan?”

“I must go to him and tell him about Robin so he can fix his relationship with his mom. It's a super long story... But his story.”

I meant it wasn't my story to tell, and Desiree nodded, but she looked disappointed. She wanted more gossip.

“But now you have Odin, will you wait-”

I stop her with a head shake.

“No, I'll bring him. Eric loves him. He loves Eric more than anyone else.”

She giggled. “More than you?”

“Totally. I'm the third wheel with them.”

Desiree giggled, then gave me a hug.

“Fix this then. I want to know how dad reacts when you have a boyfriend with Lovecraft on his back.”

I smiled warmly at her but also nervously, not because of my dad's love for gothic literature but because I couldn't mess this up now when Desiree rooted for me.

×××

“Please open Eric! Please!” I shouted outside of his door. I didn't know if he chose to not open it or if he actually wasn't home. “Eric!”

Odin barked twice, but not even that made Eric open the door. I walked to my car again and tried to find a solution. I looked at Odin in the seat next to me, and he looked at me with one eyebrow lifted and eyes full of worry that I wouldn't fix this.

“We will fix something for us to eat and take a long walk and maybe a nap because we will visit someone late tonight…” I said to him and patted his head and ear.

I bought us each a hamburger, not the best dog food, but for one night it was okay, then I tried to make the time pass by walking around; it was boring as hell, but at 00.30 am we could finally go to Jackie’s. I didn't care that it was desperate; I was desperate.

Jackie opened with a smirk. He was obviously high and didn't even give us a confused look. I let Odin's leash go; that way Jackie or anyone else couldn’t easily kick us out. Odin ran into the living room so fast he slipped on the floor. That kind of joy could only mean Eric was there. My heart speeded up at once, and for a few seconds I wanted to turn around and flee.

“Eric is here if you’re searching for him, but I don't think he wants to see you,” said Jackie teasingly. Normally I would answer such teasing with attitude, but now I just swallowed hard and looked down at the floor. Jackie turned to the living room but stopped in the doorway, probably because of my big dog. I looked at myself with the help of the front camera on my phone. I had fixed my makeup and hair earlier in the car, but now, with the nerves, it felt like it all had fallen. After that, I finally brought myself together and walked into the living room. The scene there looked like it usually did. Five guys listening to music, drinking cheap beer, and smoking herbal joints. The air was heavy with the spicy smoke and the mist hung in the air for a long time after someone had exhaled.

Eric had moved down to the floor to cuddle with Odin, and he lay on his back while the dog licked his face almost sensually. I wanted to lay down with them but knew that would be too much, so I sat down on the armrest of the couch. His friends looked at me with big eyes, but none of them would get themselves involved in our mess. Eric sat up and pushed Odin away when he started to get way too excited, and with a snap of his fingers, he got him to lay down on the floor next to him. Odin looked at me pleased, and I envied him for how easy it was for him. When I looked at Eric, he looked away. I had planned to be cool in front of his friends but forgot all about that when he finally looked at me. The sob and tears came from nowhere, and even if I didn't see anyone's expression, I knew everyone in the room was uncomfortable.

Eric didn't let me sit and cry in front of his friends for a long time, he was too kind to do that and took my hand so we could get away.

He guided me out to the hallway and succeeded in having Odin as a tail.

“We’ll take a walk, okay?” He said lowly to me, and then he put on his khaki-colored vans and his long black coat. I put on my outerwear with some struggle, and when I was finished, Eric stood with Odin, leashed by the door.

We walked in silence, the only thing we could hear was my nose that couldn't stop running and Odin's claws landing on the concrete. I looked carefully at Eric, who looked sad and disappointed. I hated the look, and especially that it was me who had caused it.

“I want to say sorry three hundred times for what I said to you—that I accused you of taking those pills, but it isn't why I am here, or not just that reason.”

Eric gave me a quick look but then looked away, uninterested.

“It's about Lotti. Why did you stop seeing her?”

Eric scoffed after a while and shook his head.

“None of your business.”

His answer had some attitude, and even if it was just a little, it surprised me.

“Is it because she forgot you?”

Eric scoffed again and looked down at the ground. He really tried to have a cold attitude, but he was too bad at concealing his real emotions.

“She hasn't forgotten you-”

“Fuck Della! Please, why do you do this?” He said, irritated, and stopped to look straight at me. I stopped just in front of him and looked up at his face.

“She hasn't forgotten you; she misses you all the time-”

“I've met her! She threw a fucking glass at me! She has forgotten me, okay?!” His voice was loud now, but it didn't feel scary because it was such understandable frustration and pain.

“It was just then. It was just that moment. She forgets me too; the next time she's her normal self again. Robin has lied to you. She talks about you all the time and is broken without you!”

My voice was also loud now, to make him listen and shut him up. It worked because Eric stood and looked at me with big, glassy eyes they gave more light than the street light next to us.

“...what?” He said after a while, with a small voice.

“It's a lie, Eric. She hasn't forgotten you. She believes you're dead because that's what Robin said to her, and you believe she has lost the memory of you, but she hasn't! She thinks about you daily!”

I looked at him straight in the eyes, even if they shifted round and round. He dragged his hands over his face and dropped Odin's leash, but he stood by his side anyway. Big tattooed hands covered his face while sob after sob left his mouth. I wanted to hug him but didn't dare, but when he started to cry uncontrollably and was forced to sit down on the ground, I sat down in front of him.

“You can meet her, baby... You can be with your mom again…” I said calmly, and it made him lean his forehead against my shoulder. I took that as an invitation to hug him, and it caused him to unleash his feelings again. He cried loudly in a way I never heard a grown man cry before, and that made it even more heartbreaking. He wasn't a man at that moment, he was Lotti's little boy.

I hugged him hard with Odin sitting close to us, and Eric hugged me around my waist like he was much smaller than he was. I wiped his tears over and over, hushing him, but it took so long for him to calm down. He was shaking when he looked at me with red eyes and nose.

“I want to go home,” he said, wiping his eyes and nose with the backside of his hand. I nodded and dried away a tear on his jaw.

“Let's get home.”

×××

He calmed down quite quickly at home and let me help him take off his clothes down to his boxers and then bundle him up in bed. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought he had a serious cold; he both acted and looked like a sick person, but he was just upset. I sat down on the edge of the bed and forced him to drink a glass of water. He looked at me with his red-rimmed eyes. I was prepared for him to turn his back against me, but instead he pulled my top and pants like he wanted me to take them off.

“Do you want me to lay here with you?” I asked softly, and I got a nod back.

I took off my clothes close to the bed—so close he could drag his hand over my leg while I did it. It was obvious my skin was calming to him, and he tried to feel as much as he could. When I just wore my bra and panties, he looked up at me, then stretched out his arm and pulled in my panties. He did it again when I looked at him pointedly, so I pulled both them and my bra off. He lifted the cover so I could crawl down next to him, but he pulled me up over him. I sat up, straddling his hips to be able to look into his eyes.

“I love you, and we should talk and all that, but... I need you now, please. I need you now.” He said with a low voice while pulling down his boxers. I nodded and leaned down to kiss his lips. After that, I didn't drag it out; I let him slip into me, and I rode him until he couldn't handle anymore. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

×××

I asked so many times if he had forgiven me, and he said yes, and that he loved me, every time. He could see that both of our emotions had been wild in every way lately, but I still continued to say I was sorry for a long time.

I had hoped he would want to see Lotti at once, but something held him back, so it wasn't until two weeks later he dared to come to my town to visit her. I would talk to her together with Fiona the day before so she wouldn't get a heart attack from the news. Robin hadn't tried anything to stop us from seeing her, and maybe he had given up. I tried to tell myself he wanted to do the right thing, but to be honest, I didn't know. It felt like I didn't know him.

Fiona and I looked at Lotti as she fixed coffee for all three of us and searched for some biscuits, but they seemed to have disappeared, in some sort of way. She was a bit confused that day but still in a good mood, and me and Fiona waited patiently on her to not destroy the good mood. She needed to be calm to be able to hear that her youngest son was still alive.

“I don't need any biscuits; I think just coffee sounds great!” Said Fiona optimistically to not make Lotti sad.

“Yeah, same,” said I, so Lotti would sit down with us. She gave us a bit of a bothered look but accepted what we had said and sat down by the little table with us and took a sip of her coffee. I looked at Fiona to have permission to talk, and she gave me a nod. She had never heard anything like Eric's story before, so neither she knew the best way to do it.

“Lotti, I am here to tell you something, something great, really, really great but strange,” I began and smiled nervously. She looked at me with a bright smile, like she thought I would tell her I had a bottle of wine in my handbag.

“Eric, Eric is alive and wants to see you.”

Lotti stared at me, then turned towards Fiona with an upset face; she probably wondered if I was lying.

“It's true, Lotti,” said Fiona, who had talked with Eric over a video call.

I could see how Lotti's face changed in slow motion from anger and confusion to laughing in disbelief.

“What are you saying? Are you trying to give a sick lady a heart attack?” She said with a laugh while wiping away tears with a plaid handkerchief. I took her other hand in mine and smiled at her.

“Eric is alive, Lotti.”

“But Robin..?” The emotions swam in her eyes, and I could also see disappointment, like she knew Robin had lied. I just nodded a little; she got to interpret that however she wanted, but she didn't seem to have time to because she laughed and cried in a beautiful mix of emotion.

“But where is he then??”

“He's at my place. We thought you maybe needed some time-”

“Time?! You say my son is alive, and you think I need time to calm down?? I need to see him! I'm his mother! I should see him now!”

Now Lotti sounded angry, and Fiona patted her shoulder a little.

“Delilah, maybe you can tell him to come, while Lotti, you can rest a bit on the bed?”

“Rest?! I want to see my son!”

“Lotti,” said Fiona, giving her a strict look. “This is a big thing, so you should be rested when Eric comes here, right? So he can see you at your best.”

Lotti looked irritated and wiped away some more angry tears, but then listened to Fiona and went to bed.

Seeing Eric in the reception of Lotti's home was surreal even for me, and it seemed so even for Fiona. She looked at him up and down like she really was seeing a ghost, but she also smiled a little embarrassed when he took off his long coat and showed off muscular tattooed arms in a black t-shirt that also hinted about the rest of his fit body. I smiled big with every positive feeling in my body but also to calm Eric down, who looked so worried.

“Sometimes you're the only thing she talks about... She has been angry at me now because she can't wait,” said Fiona with a giggle. It felt like she acted differently in front of Eric, and to make things a little more clear, I took Eric's hand in mine. He smiled nervously at Fiona and then at me but didn't say anything. I knew talking to new people wasn't his thing and especially not when he was nervous.

“I’ll go in and see if she's ready,” said Fiona, and Eric gave her a little smile.

When we were alone, he leaned down to kiss my lips, then rested his forehead against mine. I laid my hands on his cheeks and breathed deeply together with him.

“I'm so fucking nervous... It feels like I will throw up…”

“It's Lotti. Your mom, no one else, you will feel better at once when you have seen her.”

He nodded and moved away from me so he could smile at me. I smiled back brightly, high on love, and fixed his hair and played a little with his dagger earring.

“You're so handsome.”

He shrugged his shoulders but kissed me with a smile. I let our tongues say hello a couple of times before I giggled into his mouth.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Most in the entire world.” He whispered and kissed me again.

I left them alone to have their meeting to themselves. Just like I most often wanted Eric to myself, I knew Lotti felt the same. Eric was everything, after all.

×××

Epilogue

Mine and Eric's lives changed drastically after he and Lotti had a relationship again. He wanted to be close to her as much as he could, so after a couple of months, he moved into my apartment. Robin fled from us to another town but still visited his mother. Odin became mine and Eric's dog. It wasn't anything we discussed; it just happened.

My mom succeeded in finding a job for Eric. He was skeptical at first when he heard it was at a daycare and couldn't understand how my mom could feel that was a good idea, but after just a few months, he went from being an extra staff member to getting himself established employment. The whole thing was so sweet, and sometimes I just went by the daycare to see him play in the sand with the kids or have three of them climb his long limbs.

Life was good for thirteen months, without really any big problems, but then Eric's beloved mother had another stroke and left us without a warning. It led to Eric getting depressed again, but with a stronger, better safety net, he didn't fall down the hole with drugs, but he still ended up sleeping for weeks and weeks while I tried to encourage him to do something instead, but he didn't listen. He just wanted to sleep.

It was a sunny March day, and he finally wanted to leave the apartment. He had lost a lot of his muscles and was a skinnier version of himself. He had moved to the couch from the bed a couple of weeks before but now felt so good he even smiled when we spoke.

“Do you want company?” I asked while he put on his running gear. He shook his head with a smile.

“I just want to clear out my head; I can take Odin, though.”

He gave me a peck on the lips when he had tied his shoes, and I gave him several more after that. He smiled at me and then buried his nose in my neck.

“I can make tartar tonight.”

“Really?” I said excitedly and lifted his head so I could look at his smiling face.

“Yeah, with your help and a better alcoholic-free wine than the last time.”

He didn't even drink anymore, and I glowed with pride when he said it. He had made so much progress. But life has a tendency to break when it is finally good. I wasn't even worried when Eric left our home with Odin. I had been that in the beginning of our relationship, but now I felt sure he wouldn't do anything crass; the only thing I didn't think about was that there were also things like bad luck.

The first thing I noticed was that he was out running for a longer time than usual, but I thought he probably just needed some more time in the fresh air. When he had been out two and a half hours, I started to think about calling him, but it was then an unknown number called me. I thought about not answering, but something made me do it anyway. I regretted at once doing it because the thing they said was nothing I wanted to hear. I knew something had happened as soon as they said they were calling from the hospital and wondered about my relationship with Eric.

“I'm his fiancee; has something happened?” I said worriedly and held on to a chair in front of me. I rarely called myself his fiancee because it sounded a bit silly to me, but I was, he had proposed to me in the October sun, at a farmer's market. It was spontaneous, like he often was, but straight from the heart. He didn't have a ring, so we bought one together instead. I didn't care that he couldn't afford one by himself; that wasn't important.

“We want you to come down here; it's good if you bring a friend with you,” said the nurse.

“What happened??” I asked, upset because that sentence made it seem like something was really, really wrong.

“Eric has been in an accident, but it's best if you come down here instead.”

I started to cry on the phone because if it was good, or at least if there was hope, they would have told me.

I brought Desiree with me, who came and got me in her car. I just cried and cried in panic while she tried to say it was probably not as bad as I thought, but it felt like not even she believed it. At the hospital, they took me to a similar room I had spoken with Fiona in. Desiree hugged my hand in hers because now she couldn't pretend it wasn’t worse than it was.

“Eric came in with a gunshot wound in his chest an hour ago. He had stepped in and tried to stop a fight between some teenage boys without knowing one of them was armed… We did everything we could to stop the bleeding, but... I'm sorry, but he didn't survive.”

…

How do you react when the love of your life gets taken away from you so fast? How do you react when they tell you how unfair life is?

Eric had come jogging with Odin in one of the rougher parts of town. He didn't think much about it because he had always been in those sorts of areas and people had respect for him. He was tall and built and tattooed in a way that made some believe he was in a gang.

The teenagers were just fifteen, and in his eyes it looked like kids having a fist fight. Other people let them fight; they either didn't care or didn't have the courage to do something, not even when one of the boys lay on the ground, getting kick after kick towards his head and neck. Eric acted on impulse. Fear was nothing that held him back, and if he thought something was wrong, he would jump in, so he did. People around saw how calm he was, how he acted like a safe grown up and got the kids to move away, everyone except one who acted just as impulsive as Eric.

It was his older brother's gun. He had brought it to be cool, but he fired it when he felt powerless, shooting Eric in the chest once and Odin in the neck twice. People around just looked at the mess for several minutes while Eric disappeared slowly from the world. Odin had left it behind at once. My fiance lay several minutes without receiving help until a young couple ran up to them, even if the boy still held the weapon pointed towards Eric. The boy was in shock, seeing the grown man on the ground fighting for his life. Another man succeeded in taking the gun, and others around called 911, but their help was too little, too late.

Eric died in the ambulance. He never even saw the harsh light of the emergency room.

How do you react when a kind soul as Eric dies while he tries to do good? How do you react when someone who has fought his whole life dies in such an awful way?

They showed me his body. They had tried to make the room look nice with dimmed light and him lying on a covered observation table, but it couldn't be nice because then they showed me Eric's lifeless face, pale and relaxed. His face had changed because of the relaxed muscles. He looked much softer but still so regal with his high cheekbones.

How do you react to seeing the man you love not breathing? How do you react when you realize that everything the people have said is true?

Eric didn't exist anymore. The light had left his eyes, his voice just living inside of me. The magic was gone forever, and I was left behind. My whole little unit disappeared on the same day. My fiance and our dog. My whole life. I didn't have a life anymore.

×××

I didn't cry after leaving the hospital. A numbness took over—a feeling of resignation. Crying was for people who were cleansing, that tried to move on, I wouldn't move on. Tears were a relief, making tension disappear. I didn't need that. I didn't have any tensions, I wasn't scared, and I wasn't vindictive because I didn't have a future. I was just as dead as Eric.

I could feel everyone around me staring. I just sat on the couch, looking straight forward. Even Robin stretched a hand out but I didn't give him any response. My family thought about calling the psychiatric hospital but let it be, they thought I would come out of the daze I was in. They were wrong, so wrong. It wasn't even a daze; it was my reality. They believed I was stuck in grief, but I had left all earthly feelings behind. They lay forgotten on the hospital floor.

If there is nothing left for you at the party, you should leave it; you will have it better at home. I needed home again—Eric's warm embrace.

If my family knew what I was thinking, they would have taken me to a hospital, but it wouldn't really matter. It was too late. I would have done it anyway.

They had taken me to my parents house so I could live there. They thought I just needed love and comfort, but I couldn't even understand what they tried to do because I wasn't there; I just searched for an exit. They didn't believe I would go out in the dead of night in my trance-like state. I already had found my exit. I didn't have time to spill; I needed to go to Eric.

The exit was at the central station, the trains came all hours of the day, even in the dead of the night. It was easy. My party was over, and I needed to come home to Eric. It was easy.

…

I recognized the place at once. I had been there many times—oh, so many times. I was at my old street again, by the playground. It wasn't as dark as it had been the last time I was there; all the streetlights were on, and the sky shifted in a warm peach color. The sun was on its way up. I looked around, seeing if there was someone there; it was, I heard a loud bark. I recognized that bark so well, and it made me shiver in comfort. I laughed when Odin came running, and I sat down on the ground to let him give me a proper hello. While he licked my neck, I heard footsteps in the gravel. I wouldn't even need to look up to know who it was, but why wouldn't I want to do that? I stood up and looked at my tall fiance standing there, looking like he did in the prime of his life. His cheeks were a bit rosy from the coldness in the park, but still he just wore a black t-shirt with his khaki cargo pants.

“Hey,” he said with a warm smile, and I threw myself around his neck at once, without even thinking. His warm embrace caught me. I was home again. He laughed a little and then kissed me. I couldn't stop, and when we had started, we let it become a make-out session. I giggled into the kisses, and I could feel him smile.

“Did you get to decide on a meeting place again? Fuck, I thought it was my turn now!”

I laughed and dragged my fingers through the hair in his neck.

“So you remember this place?”

“Yeah, from when I was in the coma. I didn't remember the girl's face though, but it was you… the whole time.” He hugged my waist while looking me deep my eyes.

“I never dared to tell you about my dreams; I would have sounded like a stalker.”

“More than you already did, you mean?” He teased, and I hit him playfully on the arm, but then we laughed together. He gave me a soft kiss but then looked at me seriously.

“You shouldn't have taken your life, babe. You had so much to live for.”

He looked sad, but I wasn't really. I felt bad for my family, but I wasn't sad; I was with Eric.

“I think it was meant to be. Here we are, the three of us again-”

“Four.”

“Hm?”

He pointed to a light pole, and I looked up at it where Crow sat, looking down at us.

“He has guided me back two times; I know he will guide me away today. To my parents.”

I looked at him seriously.

“And I will follow you wherever you go.”

Eric looked at me examining with big green eyes. The mesmerizing eyes. He nodded and looked up at Crow.

“I love you most in the entire world, you know," I said with a giggle and took his hand in mine. He smiled at me and kissed my hand.

“And I love you most in the entire world and wherever we will go!” He said it playfully. I giggled, because I wasn't afraid. Eric looked at Odin, then at Crow. The bird made a caw and lifted his wings. I knew that was the signal, and when Crow lifted from the light pole, all three of us followed him towards the sun.

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #fan fiction #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #the crow #eric

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threadsoflacee · 7 months ago

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hi guys thinking abt hannigram somewhere in late s2 afterhours drinking wine and eating gourmet food and smiling and talking ….. then drinking vodka and getting so drunk ….. hannibal taking will upstairs bc theyre both too out of it to drive and drunk-dog walking up the stairs and laughing like excited giddy teenagers ….. then just dropping in the staircase and laughing and their heads r spinning and theyre holding onto each other to not slip and fall and crack their skulls on the floor and die . will looking over at hannibal and staring where his eyes crinkle with a fanged smile and where his collar is open and showing his chest hair and realizing his feelings for hannibal r so much more than pure hate and disgust . . . .. and the next morning will rushes home so fast bc he doesn’t want to linger bc of what it could mean between them … IM SO FUCKING SICK

#hannibal #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannigram

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fanonsupremecy · 4 months ago

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911 prompts based on emojis:

🇵🇷 - Tevan adopt a hispanic little girl that ends up calling Eddie, Hen, Chim, Maddie, Lucy and Sal Tío/Tía and Bobby and Athena Abuelo/Abuela (Bathena as Buck's parents supremacy). She calls Buck Papá and Tommy Taita.

🙈 - Evan throws Tommy a surprise bday party

🏳️‍🌈 - Buck has a 'coming out' party (idk is it ooc?)

📞 - Dispatch!Josh/Eddie

🎧 - Rapper!Buck/Violinist!Tommy AU

🍺 - Drunk Eddie and Buck try to get dicked down by Tommy. (Maybe an AU where Tommy never had to leave the Bachelor Party? idk. Maybe buck is like "eddie! Guess what?! Great! IDEA! join us!!!" or some shi and he and buck beg Tommy.)

🧋- Buck discovers the joys of Boba and gets everyone to try it.

🦈👨‍🚒- Evan Grant-Nash AU where he's in college and there were 3 other Evans in his Frat so he started going by Van (instead of Buck). He's studying Marine Biology (or something else that feeds his encyclopedic brain) and is out as Bi, Bobby is still the captain of the 118, Tommy is still at the 118 (and out) and Athena married Bobby when Evan was 5. Maddie is still his sister and Doug never existed. (Evan and Maddie get with one of Bobby's firemen (Tommy and Chim) and Bobby is like Both of my kids want my firemen???)

🌸 - Tommy gets Evan flowers.

🧷 - Buck gets piercings/tattoos (I have some NSFW ideas for this one, not just sfw.)

🤝 🛶 - Little Mermaid!AU w/ Ursula!Gerard and Ariel!Evan enraptured by Sailor Prince!Tommy (with Grimsby!Lucy and Talking!Max!Sal). Featuring: Scuttle!Chim, Sebastian!Hen, Flounder!Eddie, King Triton!Bobby, Alive!Queen Athena!Athena and Mersiblings!Maddie, Eldest!Queen Athena's Fate!Daniel, Harry, May, Christopher & Ravi.

🙊 - Tommy and Buck sneak into the firetruck afterhours... iykyk...

🍫 - Eddie copes with Christopher going to Texas by becoming addicted to chocolate.

🫂 - ANGST/FLUFF. BuckTommy reunion after Tommy gets deployed (for whatever reason) for a year.

🔥 - ANGST. (HURT/NO COMFORT.) Eddie gets stuck in a fire at a call, records a message for all his loved ones when he thinks he gonna die. (maybe he does. I'm in a mood for a lil painy-pain apparently.)

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offbeat-manga-ships · 9 days ago

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i've been thinking half-baked thoughts about the longevity of romance "gimmicks" in today's romance manga plots.. mostly it started with a bit of a reflection on how stories like boku no kokoro no yabai yatsu and ijiranaide nagatoro-san have first seasons (of the anime) that i really like, but one common denominator is that the second season (or even just from the middle to the end of the first - which is like only 6-12 23min installments later) really tones down on the initial propulsive elements that drew people in... and people actually like it.

like, the thing on ijiranaide nagatoro-san is that a gyaru underclassman "bullies"/really teases the hell out of her spineless senpai. the first episode is her actually making him cry and wiping down his tears herself and it was great (better than an entire manga called 'i want to drink your tears'). for a while he actually stays underhandedly enabling her to do it while on the surface providing weak protests because that is the gimmick. this manga is selling the appeal of having a confident, loud, gyaru-styled, mischievous and downright devilish girl forcibly coming into a painfully shy person's life. and by putting him through the ringer they actually form a weird kind of connection because of course they are both having net positives from this scenario.

similarly, boku no kokoro no yabai yatsu depicted an extremely edgy and gloomy kid at war with himself because even though he has decided one day he should totally kill the girl that annoyingly just can't stay out of his field of vision, he can't stop himself from doing nice things for her instead. and the girl is just the right mix of airhead and subconsciously confident in her own people skills to dodge all of the walls he puts up saying nobody talk to me or get close to me to make a genuine connection with him that belongs only to them in the afterhours at the school library.

and yet, as i mentioned, as we go further into toned down territory, people have more and more praise for how amazingly they are "developing as characters", which is to say how much closer they are to being normal kids who can just shed their past problems and quirks and develop into normalcy in the name of love. because love means growing up which means being a normal member of society.

but speaking honestly for myself... i still can't think of a single iconic moment during their normalcy-core era where the characters are being their unique selves in the weird but compelling situations that were the premise of the story. and yet i still can't forget that initial crying scene or nagatoro's find the nipple game or when she straight up convinced senpai that she was a vampire ready to suck his blood. i can't forget ichikawa and yamada being library buddies and him helping her smuggle and have her sweets in a forbidden place. i can't forget all the times he swore to himself he didn't care and yet went out of his way to grab her a glass of water from a far away place, write down his family name on a grave decoration instead of hers and straight up yeet his bicycle into a river because he wants to help her without letting on that's what he's doing.

in season 2 it's like... idk. they talk on the phone i guess? and ichikawa cheers her on her modelling career or something. sure. as i said, normal kids doing normal love things. and don't get me wrong, i still like it. it's pleasurable storytelling when you like the characters. but it's like the author is trying to please every possible type of reader by giving them a different and compelling start and saying just kidding, i won't leave you guys hanging, here is them living their romance dreams right away please don't abandon my story for some of the thousand other titles that can give you that quick dopamine boost, i swear you don't have to wait anymore!

and of course these are not the only ones. i just posted a kawaii dake ja nai shikimori-san manga panel grieving the fact that the manga couldn't keep up that specific vibe of shikimori being more aggressive for a long time and just turned into a nice normal teenagers doing nice normal things series, which of course doesn't really have room for the freaky escapades of a boyfriend who is chronically into his girlfriend turning into a don juan. in maybe a smaller scale but keeping up with the pattern, horimiya started as a story of a queen bee type girl who was more relaxed outside of school meeting the gloomy long haired glasses-wearing unpopular kid from her class wearing alternative fashion, piercings and tattoos. when they get together of course. he stops wearing those things, cuts his hair and gets rid of his glasses and they become a nice matching normal couple.

and i mean, this is just off the top of my head. as you can see, what all these titles have in common is that they are very recent. if you think back to not even that much older romance, they are so much more consistent with their gimmicks. koizumi and ootani will keep being a couple of violent gremlins for a good long while. tsuruga ren will stay on the outskirts of kyoko's career for like 50 volumes or something. haruhi will keep crossdressing and rebutting tamaki's corny af moves. and i don't even have to watch/read that much ahead to know that ranma and akane will keep butting heads instead of "communicating already".

if something like kimi wa pet was made today however, in 10 or so chapters a lesser author would make takeshi or someone explain to sumire how weird and "disrespectful" it is to keep someone as a pet without "looking properly at them". they would start dating because he is a real man who can make a woman out of her and it would be 5 thinly written volumes focused on everyday moments instead of the 14 packed to the brim with plot & drama.

authors used to know how to make the absolute most out of a premise or a gimmick or a trope. because the goal is not to get to the normal romance part. it is not to hurry up and solve these problems so we can get to the good stuff. the journey is the point. there is charm to be seen in these abnormal situations and waiting makes the moments when they do get closer that much more impactful.

i don't really have anywhere to go with this except i guess hoping and praying we can get authors who see a weird or freaky gimmick and like it so so much that they know exactly what they want to write instead of going with today's hurried flow of romances who need "development" and "clear communication between characters" and are on the palm of the audience's hands and a a machine to serve their whims. please remember there is a reason why you are the artist and they are the audience.

#mycommentary #mypost #anime #manga #ijiranaide nagatoro san #boku no kokoro no yabai yatsu #kawaii dake ja nai shikimori san #horimiya

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blainesebastian · 2 years ago

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because

words: 2,219 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) "reader jokingly brings up the fact that she has always wanted the clichés in a relationship but have never been with someone who would want to give that to her" warnings: none notes: requests are open for now :) thanks to anyone who's left me one! appreciate it xx tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted, @rairaielv

You’re still pretty new to the whole interview thing—this being your first major breakthrough in film with an upcoming project. Not that you’re not proud of everything you’ve done prior, of course you are, those steps are what’s gotten you to this point. Starring in a film you can really sink your teeth into. Great plot, wonderful character development, intrigue and opportunities for growth.

And it certainly doesn’t hurt that your co-star is Austin Butler.

The whole experience of working with him has been an absolute blur, you’re just trying to take things as they come at you—one day at a time. You can’t quite put into words how great it’s been to make this film with him, that he’s so incredibly humble in his experiences, that even though he’s done a film like Elvis, he’s still willing to learn and keep himself down to earth in how he presents himself, how he talks to people.

You’ve become really good friends over this entire process and, admittedly, you’ve been thinking about Austin in a not so friend way either but. How can anyone not have a crush on this man?

Regardless, you’ve kept that (for the most part) completely to yourself. The last thing you want to do is somehow disrupt your working relationship, especially when things are going so well. There was only one slight mix up and Austin’s never brought it up again so you’re ninety percent sure that it didn’t even happen. One too many drinks afterhours with people from set and all of a sudden you’re spilling state secrets out to Austin when he tries to make sure you get home safe. Not your finest moment, though you don’t remember it being too embarrassing?

Definitely something capable of keeping you up at night—that and admitting during an interview that you never had an ex that indulged in all the clichés of dating.

It’s like one of those early hours nightmares, your clock burning 2:35AM into the side of your head, as you stare at the ceiling. Along with your eighth grade prom date fiasco and that one time you told that hot waiter ‘you too’ when he said ‘enjoy your food’. Just…utterly putting you in shambles. And maybe it’s not something to worry about, you’re still getting used to interviews and not overtalking when you’re nervous. Austin’s given you some tips about breathing and really listening to the question, counting to three before replying so you’re sure about what’s going to come out of your mouth.

And you suppose it’s not the worse thing? Not like it’s a childhood story you’ve divulged and overshared that you should be ashamed about. It’s just…you mentioned to the interviewer that you’re actually kind of fond of all the old-school cliché things that come with dating. Fresh flowers, goodnight texts, someone that’ll call just to hear your voice, good morning texts, sending random pictures throughout the day of things that remind you of the other person.

Your past two relationships didn’t bother with any of those things, they were fast paced and kinda…thrown together? It feels so hard to describe them now that you’re outside of it, and it took you a while to actually listen to your heart that you weren’t as happy as you wanted to be anyways. There’s a difference between being single and just settling—you don’t want to do that anymore.

Especially if it doesn’t come with all the romances and small pieces of love languages that you feel it deserves.

It doesn’t have to be overdramatic or complicated…you’re just asking for effort. And the typical clichés? kinda demonstrate that.

“There was literally no reason for me to divulge that on live television,” You place your phone on your shoulder, holding it against your ear with your head. Your friend Katrina gives a soft laugh in response, “I mean, really, all the interviewer asked me was if I had a date to the Golden Globes.”

But that simple question just popped off the whole thing about why you’re single, about why you’re taking time to find someone right and not just jumping into a relationship. Then, of course, there are always those teasing questions about Austin—about your friendship, how sweet and humble he is, how handsome. Like…that’s all very obvious but why do people talk to you like you’re supposed to do something about it?

To threaten everything you’ve already built with him, personal and professional wise? No thank you.

“I think the real question everyone was asking is whether you’re goin’ with Austin.” A loud sigh leaves your lips, tipping your head back to look at the ceiling of your living room as you lie on your back on the couch. “There are no sighs when you have a man that hot in your life.”

A soft chuckle vibrates in your throat, shaking your head because…everyone (meaning Katrina) on the outside thinks it’s easy having a crush on your friend. That you could just…cross that bridge, build that connection if you really wanted to. But this isn’t a movie, you don’t have the script right in front of you, you have no idea what’s going to happen if you decide to do that.

And you’re not sure if it’s worth that risk.

“You won’t know if you don’t ask.”

“Oh my god,” You exclaim, amusement wrapped around your tone, “Are you my best friend or relationship therapist?”

“I get the privilege of being both,” Katrina grins, you can almost hear it as she speaks, “For free.”

Rolling your eyes, you can’t help but smile, playing with a loose thread in the sweater you’ve got on. “All I called you for was to ask if we were still on for brunch tomorrow morning and if you think I made a fool out of myself on TV.”

Katrina sighs softly and hums and you can tell that she’s backing down, for now, “Yes always to brunch and no, you did nothing that was embarrassing. You were just honest—nothing wrong with that.” Then she pauses…and you already know she’s back at it again,

“Besides, maybe someone was watching and taking notes.”

You run a hand over your face, shaking your head—God, “Goodbye.” You laugh gently, pressing the red button before she can start herself in on another rant.

Setting your phone down on your coffee table, you’re considering ordering take-out or conquering laziness and going down your street to the taco counter on the corner when there’s a knock at your door. Your eyebrows draw together in confusion because you’re not expecting anyone…unless it’s your neighbor. She’s older and her cat is constantly getting stuck in the closet and she always has trouble getting her out. Sighing, you draw yourself up and off the couch, wandering over without looking through the peep hole.

Which is how your jaw almost ends up on the floor.

It’s Austin, which is not exactly surprising, he’s been to your apartment plenty of times—just not like this. He’s got a giant bouquet of black roses in his arms, almost kinda comical for him because he’s tall and skinny and it feels like it throws him off balance somehow. He’s also got a small white teddy bear, a maroon heart sewn onto its chest and you kinda…open and close your mouth because you’re so confused and slightly overwhelmed, you have no idea what to say.

Except the first thing that comes to mind, “Well, you’re definitely not Mrs. Deborah.”

He laughs lightly, pulling the flowers away from his face a bit so that they don’t obstruct his view as he steps forward into your apartment. “Was hopin’ I had the right door,” He jokes, “Hard to see around these things.”

Closing the door behind him, you’re still completely thrown off as to what exactly he’s doing here with these things like, “It’s uh—it’s not my birthday?”

Austin raises his eyebrows, “I know that,” He replies warmly and then begins talking about the roses, “I know gettin’ black ones is a little strange but I figured with all the…horror movies you like and Halloween aesthetic that you have up all year—”

Amused laughter wraps around your tone as you speak, “Halloween is a feeling, not a season.”

“—I figured you’d appreciate these.” He smiles and hands them over.

Your stomach does this ridiculous flip-flopping, cheeks kissing pink because you’re so confused and stunned. You take them carefully, pressing your nose and lips into a few flowers, breathing them in. Austin smiles and uses the bear to press a kiss to your cheek before giving you that too.

“I…not that I’m not completely in love with these,” You say after a moment, almost hesitantly, “But why?”

Austin hums, shrugging his shoulders lightly as he pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “Because.”

And that stirs something heated and distinct in your chest. You’re attempting not to overthink such a simple answer. Because.

Letting out a breath and preventing yourself from spilling your thought process out, you give him a soft smile and bite down on the inside of your cheek. You turn to take the flowers into the kitchen, finding scissors to cut the ends of the stems off.

“Not sure I have a vase big enough.” You chuckle, wondering if it’d make more sense to split up the large bouquet—some out here, some in your bedroom. You settle for a smaller black glass vase you’ve got dried flowers in by the windowsill and swap them out, letting the rest of the bouquet rest in the sink until you’re ready for them.

You lean against the counter, taking a long look at the flowers as the word because spins around in your head. And while you’re touched at the sentiment, at the explanation that Austin has given you—you can’t help but wonder…

“I’m assuming you saw the interview?”

Austin smiles a little, the prettiest of blushes kissing his cheeks, highlighting some of the freckles he has on his cheekbones. It’s ridiculously attractive and your stomach does a full swirl before you have to look away. There’s this itch to run your fingers through the blonde curls above his forehead.

“I did—but it’s not the main reason why I brought you those today.”

A soft self-deprecating laugh leaves your throat, “Oh no? Not because you’re pitying me?” And even though you’re joking, kind of, attempting to smile through it—you’re worried that’s the only reason he’s even here, that he somehow feels sorry for you.

“No, hey,” Austin says softly, taking a step towards you to reach out and touch your arm. He gently grasps your elbow to keep you from backing up, squeezing, his thumb rubbing back and forth. “It’s actually uh—you probably don’t even remember this but, that time when we went out to drink with the cast and crew?”

And your cheeks instantly flush red because of course you know what he’s talking about. You thought for sure you could safely assume you hadn’t said anything that’d come back to haunt you. Which is worse? This or the interview? You shake your head, running a hand over your face,

“You remember that?”

He smiles a bit and moves his hand to play with a few strands of your hair near your cheek, curling them around your ear, “Kinda hard to forget.”

And while you feel like that should somehow make it worse…it doesn’t. Austin takes a step forward, keeping the proximity close between you. You can feel the heat from his skin radiating off his body, kissing your own, pressing against your pores like a gentle embrace. It’s dizzying.

“I mean, who knows what I even said,” You attempt to play it off with a small laugh, your eyes looking into Austin’s soft blue ones.

But given where this conversation has been going, maybe you should have been prepared for Austin to reply with, “You said you had feelings for me but you were afraid to tell me.”

God. “I really need to never be allowed to drink again.”

Austin smiles, shaking his head, “Did you mean it?”

You let out a slow breath, holding his gaze as your heart begins hammering in your chest. Here’s the moment of truth, right, where there’s no barrier of a long night or too many drinks to hide your emotions. There’s no taking it back after this, and yet you feel like Austin already knows what you’re going to say.

You lick your lips before a soft laugh echoes, “Of course I meant it.”

“Good,” Austin hums, cupping your cheek with his one hand, “Because I mean this.”

He leans down to kiss you, heat exploding pleasantly in your chest, slipping between your bones and making you melt towards him. You wrap your arms around his waist, keeping him close, and you can’t help but smile against his lips as he continues the kiss before you both pull back slightly to breathe. There’s butterflies in your stomach and you feel slightly dizzy from this turn of events. All these clichés that you never thought you’d be able to experience.

Then, unable to keep the smile off your face, you lean in and nip at his lower lip.

Just because.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

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