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#and also there were a few times where i was pretty proud about my answers so 🤓
doyouknowhoyouare · 2 years
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didn’t completely bomb my interview success
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azullumi · 6 months
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"once more to see you" ; aventurine
summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet
note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.
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“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down. 
you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind. 
(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)
“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.
he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”
“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.
“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.
“i’m sure he will.”
silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so. 
aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.
you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two. 
“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.
the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.
“do what?”
“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.
“why do you think so?”
“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave. 
“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”
he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”
“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”
he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.
“i love you.”
“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed? 
you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”
you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”
“i don’t know.” he whispers.
“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.
the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.
for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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solarmorrigan · 8 months
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Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 6
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
The days pass like cold mud – slow, uncomfortable, and relentless.
But they do pass.
Eddie had said he could give Steve the time he needed, and he’d meant it; he would wait out the two weeks and be there on the other side to talk to him. To hope for a second chance.
They see each other here and there, mostly in passing: Steve comes to pick a few of the kids up from a gaming session; Eddie stops in at Family Video with Jeff, Gareth, and Oliver to grab a movie (where Jeff and Steve exchange a surprisingly friendly greeting); they occupy separate sides of the room at a group dinner.
Each time, Eddie is sure to at least acknowledge and wave at Steve, in spite of any protective hovering and scowling Robin might be doing if she happens to be present. Steve gives cautious nods in return at first, but as they near the deadline, he’s returning Eddie’s distant greetings with a hesitant smile and that ridiculous little finger-wiggle wave that Eddie had been reluctantly charmed by in the beginning.
And in the meantime, Eddie plots.
He is not, by nature, an optimist (strangely, between the two of them, that’s Steve’s area), but in this instance, he plans for the best: the idea that Steve will say yes and let Eddie take him on a proper date. And as improvisational as Eddie likes to be, he’s also a veteran dungeon master and plotter of all sorts of campaigns; if you want long-term plans to go off without a hitch, it pays to be prepared.
So, he plots.
He brainstorms and makes lists of all of Steve’s favorite things and schemes out elaborate romantic gestures and draws on all the knowledge he’s retained from the romcoms he’d whined about having to watch with Steve but had always given in over when Steve gave him that puppy-eyed look that Eddie has no defense against.
(And somehow, he’d continued to think they were just friends. His lack of awareness should be studied as a scientific anomaly.)
He thinks Steve would be proud of his accumulated work (and Eddie himself isn’t ashamed of it, but all the same, he makes sure to hide the notebook where none of the guys will ever, ever stumble across it, because they would never, ever let Eddie live it down).
In any case, the ticking down of two weeks finally comes to an end, and Eddie stands in front of the phone earlier than he’d normally care to be awake, hoping that his work will pay off.
Steve picks up before the fourth ring, just like he always does, and answers the phone like a dork, just like he always does.
“Harrington residence, Steve speaking.”
This is where Eddie normally makes a joke – says he’d been trying for the funeral home and asks if Steve happens to have a shovel and some time on his hands; says he thought he’d had the number for the Hawkins Gentleman’s Club and asks if Steve is much of a dancer; once, he’d even affected a terrible New York accent and spun some lines about how he’d been trying to call a speakeasy. He can always hear the laughter caught behind Steve’s dry responses to his nonsense, and he always loves it.
But now is not “normally,” and Eddie only just manages to sound like himself as he replies, “Steve. Just the Harrington I was hoping would speak.”
“Eddie,” is all Steve says for a moment; he sounds almost surprised, but not displeased. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Eddie says back. “So, I know punctuality has never been my strong suit, but it’s, uh. It’s been two weeks. Pretty much on the dot. And you said I should come talk to you again, so…”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, no, did you – You can come over. If you want to talk, still,” Steve says – stammers, really, like he’s been caught off-guard, like he really hadn’t been expecting Eddie to call.
“Well, if I didn’t change my mind in two weeks, I’m not gonna change my mind in the fifteen minutes it takes to get to your house,” Eddie says.
“Sure,” Steve says, a little steadier now. “Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”
“You definitely will,” Eddie assures him. “See you in a bit, Steve.”
“Yeah. Yes. Bye, Eddie.”
It’s awkward, but – it’s something.
The only reason Eddie doesn’t break an egregious number of traffic laws on his way to Steve’s house is because he simply couldn’t bear the irony of getting arrested now, of all times. With his luck, he’d get sent up the river and Steve would be left waiting and waiting at his house before coming to the conclusion that Eddie had never really cared about him after all, only to be found surprised and jaded several years later when Eddie is finally released from prison and makes his first stop the Harrington house and – Christ, Eddie’s had romance on the brain too long. He’s going to have to binge reread Lord of the Rings or something to get his head back on straight.
He pulls his head out of the clouds and his van into the Harrington’s ridiculously massive driveway and heads up to the door with a vibrating surplus of energy sustained entirely by nerves and determination.
It seems like he’s not the only one running on anxiety power, though, based on how quickly the door opens after Eddie rings the bell.
It’s the first time Eddie’s really seen Steve up close since the trailer two weeks ago. He looks– better. He’s still tired, Eddie can tell; he’s got that slightly droopy look around his eyes and an almost painful set to his jaw that’s nearly impossible to spot if you don’t know what to look for – and most people don’t (but Eddie’s spent a lot of time learning Steve, even if he hadn’t picked up all the right tells). But he still looks better, and Eddie finds himself relieved.
“Hey, there,” he says, giving Steve a nod. “Just happened to be in the neighborhood, y’know. Thought I’d drop by.”
Steve shakes his head, a tiny smile quirking up at one corner of his mouth. “Come in, jackass.”
“Fine way to treat your guests,” Eddie drawls in return, gratified when Steve’s smile grows just a tiny bit more.
He takes off his shoes at the entryway (Steve hardly ever asks anyone to take off their shoes, because worrying about the state of your floors isn’t cool, but it bothers him all the same, and so Eddie takes them off) and follows Steve through to the living room, where they both perch awkwardly on the couch and sit in an equally awkward silence for about thirty seconds.
“So… you said I should come talk to you,” Eddie says finally.
“I did, yeah.” Steve nods.
“You said to tell you if this was still something I wanted,” Eddie goes on.
“I did, yeah,” Steve says again. “And… you’re here.”
“I told you I wouldn’t change my mind, Steve.” Eddie’s hand twitches, almost instinctively reaching out for a spot on Steve’s knee, or around his wrist, or threaded through his fingers, but he doesn’t think he can take Steve freezing up or pulling away again. “This – you, us – I still want it. I want to do it right. If you’ll give me the chance, I want to treat you how you should be treated.”
Steve nods. “Okay.”
Eddie blinks. “Okay? As in – just, yeah, okay?” He knows he’s not making much sense, but he’d been sort of prepared to have to make his case – to extol the virtues of the perfect dates he had planned, to sing the praises of all the things he knows now that he should appreciate about Steve, to lament the loss of trust and ease between them, but instead Steve is just sitting there, watching him with a funny sort of smile on his face.
“I was… I was never going to say no, Eddie.” Steve shrugs. “I just really needed you to think about it. To make sure this—a real relationship with… with me—is really what you wanted. Because if it’s not, if you took it back again, I don’t think I’d– I just really needed you to be sure.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, low and serious, “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. A real relationship with you is exactly what I want.”
Steve’s smile twitches, changes into something a little more familiar, a little warmer. “Okay.”
“You’re never gonna regret it, sweetheart,” Eddie says, can’t help bouncing a little in his seat as his nerves turn to excitement, to elation. “I have the corniest, most romantic dates planned, I swear, I’m going to knock your socks off. We’ll unlock your inner Molly Ringwald.”
Rolling his eyes, Steve shakes his head at Eddie. “You really don’t have to do all that. I’m not– putting you through a trial, or whatever, we can just go back to what we were doing, right? Just with… I dunno, more awareness.”
“Noooo, no.” Eddie shakes his head right back. “You said you didn’t want to pretend nothing ever happened, and you shouldn’t have to. I want to do this, Steve. Let me take you on a real date.”
Something unreadable flashes across Steve’s face, and suddenly his smile is wrong again. Sort of plastic – like he’s trying, but it’s not quite reaching his eyes. But before Eddie can ask what’s wrong, Steve is shrugging.
“If you insist…”
“I most certainly do,” Eddie says firmly. “I’m gonna romance the shit out of you.”
At that, Steve releases a helpless snort of laughter, and the plastic smile is gone, blown away by a real one.
“You’re making a super good argument for it,” Steve says, and Eddie grins.
“Aren’t I?” He bats his eyelashes. “So tell me: you free on Friday night?”
“I’m working, actually. Someone has to dole out dumb romances to other people out on dates,” Steve says drily, as if he himself hasn’t seen most of the films he’s maligning.
Eddie hums. “Saturday?”
“I could probably get someone to cover my shift,” Steve hedges, teasing and flirty and everything Eddie’s missed in the last few weeks.
“So you’ll be free?” Eddie asks.
“As a bird – as long as that bird isn’t a robin, considering who’s going to have to cover for me,” Steve says, and Eddie pulls a grimace.
“Yeah, maybe don’t tell her why you need the shift covered. I get the feeling she wouldn’t be as agreeable if she knew I was involved,” he says.
“I don’t think Robin’s ever been agreeable in her life, and she’d probably resent the accusation.” Steve smirks. “But as long as she doesn’t think I’m sneaking away to see you, and if I take the Monday morning shift she really hates, I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Let’s plan for Saturday?”
“Saturday it is!” Eddie pops up off the couch, both unwilling to sour the mood by overstaying his welcome, and suddenly overflowing with the need to set preparations in motion. “Six o’clock, sharp! I’ll pick you up.”
“Do I get to know where we’re going?” Steve asks, one eyebrow cocked.
“Absolutely not. The surprise is part of the experience,” Eddie says.
“Dress code, at least?” Steve wheedles, and Eddie supposes that’s fair.
“Casual. And bring a jacket,” Eddie says.
Both of Steve’s brows go up now, as he rises from the couch to follow Eddie back out towards the door. “Telling someone to bring outerwear to a date is usually a red flag, man,” he says, watching as Eddie shoves his shoes back on.
“But you love being outside,” Eddie counters, glancing up at Steve with a grin.
“I,” Steve pauses, blinking at him. “I guess.”
“And no more hints,” Eddie says, rising from the floor and reaching for the door handle. “I’ll see you on Saturday?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, his voice warming around a small, pleased smile, “I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“Can’t wait.” Eddie throws one last grin at him before stepping out into the brisk, late fall air.
He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way home.
Part 7
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The tag list is full at this time, but I'll be posting this fic to Ao3 soon, so hopefully people can subscribe there if they want update alerts?
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1for5 · 4 months
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TO ALL THE GIRLS I’VE LOVED BEFORE
paige bueckers x uconn student!reader
with caitlin clark, aubrey griffin, nika muhl, and emily engstler
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CHAPTER 2: Games and Feelings
prologue ch 1
a/n: not my best writing 🥲 will improve this further soon!
It has been a month of Paige and Y/n’s arrangement, and to say the least, Y/n’s whole college life has changed. Y/n gained friends, and her weekdays did not revolve only on her major and writing activities, Y/n started to have fun. Y/n realized that she’s got time; she’s got time to have fun, do leisure activities, and rest.
Y/n did not want to admit it, but it was all because of Paige. Paige introduced her to many opportunities where she can create fun memories that she will truly cherish. Y/n’s got people who are willing to accompany her whether it’s a morning jog or a drive around the area when she is not feeling her best.
KK and Ice are part of her closest friends now, and they are always with Y/n through the fun and not-so-fun times.
It was a Friday, and a game day. The UCONN wbb will be playing against Maryland. Luckily it was a home game, and Y/n did not have a long to-do list. Y/n prepared for the game, wearing Paige’s jersey and did braids on her hair, just like how Paige does it whenever she has a game.
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When Y/n arrived at the UCONN stadium, she went to her courtside seat. She was enjoying the loud roars of excitement from all sides of the stadium. Y/n was entertaining herself by people watching (not in a weird way, of course), observing the referee reviewing a list, the thousands of people taking pictures of themselves, and professors coming inside the stadium together. However, her peaceful thoughts were taken away when she saw Mia sit down a few seats behind her.
Mia was also wearing the #5 jersey with confidence. When Mia saw Y/n, she went up to her. “Hey Y/n! Hope you enjoy the game. Girlfriend duties!” Mia says and gave a weak laugh. It wasn’t not-normal whenever Mia talks to Y/n about Paige, but even so, this time, Y/n did not feel good. She was reminded again of the fact that her and Paige’s arrangement is not real, and may end in the near future.
Y/n was then flooded with negative thoughts, but it was cut-off when it was announced that the game would start, along with the players coming out to the stadium. KK and Ice saw Y/n, and knew immediately that Y/n was not feeling good. They both waved to her, giving a smile, which Y/n reciprocated.
Ice approached Paige, telling her to give her note to Y/n. Paige smiled and ran to the girl on the courtside seats, and gave her a note. “Glad you’re here pretty” Paige said and gave a wink to Y/n running back to her teammates, which left Y/n confused.
Y/n opened the note stating:
Hi! I already know that you will look so pretty in my jersey. Hope you enjoy my hoops. Meet me after and hang with the team? <3 Paige
Y/n smiled while reading the note, and behind her was an annoyed Mia. Not once did Paige have given her a note, which was an action she had been requesting for Paige to do during their relationship. Mia scoffed at the sight of Y/n, giving her annoyance.
When the game had started, and Y/n’s phone was getting multiple notifications buzzes.
Emily
Hey Y/n! I am confused.
Please answer me soon? Just give me a sign that you are okay.
I do not want to lose my friend.
Y/n shrugged it off, not ready to talk to her just yet.
As the game was going on, she could see Paige looking at her area, just not sure if the player was looking for her or for Mia. And it bugged her like it was the end of the world.
Paige was playing skillfully, from giving many assists, to shooting many 3s, and Y/n felt starstruck with Paige. Shifting from Y/n’s focus to the court, her thoughts began running.
Playing: Feelings by Lauv.
Y/n’s never felt this way towards Paige. Paige was undeniably attractive, Y/n will admit to that, even both men and women wanting to grab a date with her. Y/n always felt proud and happy when she watched a game, but this time felt different. She’s always seen Paige as someone with good skills and looks, but at that moment, Paige had an aura that was driving Y/n insane.
Y/n then started to think about how she would approach Paige after the game. Should she wait for Paige to come to her or should she do the first move? Should she wear a cuter outfit for the hangout later? Would Mia approach Paige? Why is she even thinking about Paige?
At first, Y/n never thought that she would be into the blonde. This was just rather an arrangement for Emily to stop messaging Y/n and for Mia to be interested in Paige. However, as time passed, Y/n saw another side of Paige. She saw how Paige loves, she saw how Paige was hardworking and determined, and she saw how Paige was willing to make her feel comfortable and liked, even if it was all fake.
Y/n finally admitted to herself. She has feelings for Paige, and its growing. She wants to make time for Paige, and make Paige notice her.
Real feelings are hard to find, but Paige made it so easy.
But.. How is she supposed to tell others? KK and Ice would feel betrayed when they learn that her and Paige’s relationship was fake in the first place, the reason why they started to actually hang out with each other. She can’t even tell them, she and Paige had a proper agreement.. But she needed advice. She was willing to tell Paige that she wants to share their arrangement to the duo.
And just like that, Paige shooted a 3, a buzzer beater. The Uconn team won against the Maryland! The game finished, and Y/n didn’t even realize it at first.
It’s now time for that party hangout.
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pjflmga · 18 days
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chicago, alessia russo x reader
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summary: story based on the song chicago by louis tomlinson. angst and no happy ending. stream chicago it’s banger🔥
a/n: english is not my first language and i’m dead tired + wrote it in the middle of the night, so sorry if the grammar and stuff is shit at times🥲 also it’s like my first fic writte so yea:o ig if you have an idea of a story or smth send them in :)
wc: 1,8k ish
enjoyy
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alessia was sitting on the coach of her apartment in north london, as she scrolled through instagram… or stalking through your instagram to be precise. your last post being a picture of your now 18 month(🥲) old baby.
“my baby girl olivia is now 18 months old🥹❤️” the caption said.
a tear formed in her eye as she thought of the name. the name that her and you had come up with together, at the age of 13. the name she thought you would name you little baby together. the name that you now used for your own baby, without her.
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alessia and you had been close friends since middle school, when you both were 9.
it had been a normal school day where alessia sat daydreaming about going professional in the thing she loved the most, football, when the blondes friend lisa came running towards her.
“lessi!!! giorgio and peter are at it again.” she said while breathing out.
“huh?” the young girl answered as her head jerked up.
“they got into some argument and it’s getting heated.” lisa answered as the two began running towards the fight. “i think you can talk him out of it.” she continued.
“GIORGIO!” she yelled.
“PETER!” someone else yelled at the same time.
alessia saw how her brother and the other boy looked towards her and the other voice quickly. at that time teachers had arrived as well and told the boys off. so instead of parenting her older brother, the blonde looked over to the other voice and caught your eyes, as you were looking at her with curiosity.
“wow” she thought to yourself “she has the coolest outfit ever” so like the 9- year old she was, she walked over to you and introduced herself. “hello, my name is alessia, but my friends call me less or lessi and i think your outfit is so cooll!“ she said.
“hi alessia, i’m y/n, my freinds call me y/n/n. ” you answered excitedly. “thank you, your eyes are so, so pretty.” you continued, entirely mesmerised by her blue eyes. “oh and that potato head over there, is my brother peter.”
“the boy who fought with your brother is my big brother gio. he usually is the best, we play football together all the time!” alessia laughed.
“no way? i love football too!” you screamed excitedly. “would you like to play with me sometime?”
and just like that a wonderful friendship blossomed out between alessia and you. years passed and the bond the blonde shared with you, only grew stronger. as the two of you turned 16 she realised she might be feeling something else than normal friendship for you. little did she know, you felt the same about her.
as the weeks past the two of you became a bit more and more bold and flirtier, and then all of a sudden you started dating. both of your families loved the other girl. even your big brothers had become friendly and only bantered up a little now and then, but more as a joke of course.
after a few months, on alessia’s 17th birthday, you officially asked the blonde to be your girlfriend. she answered more than happily with a “yes!”. the other present from you might have been even better though. it was your black nike hoodie, that smelled just like you.
both alessia and you loved football, but it was clear as a day who was actually going for it and who wasn’t, and had it more like a side hobby.
alessia was thriving and was currently playing for chelsea’s academy team as well as playing for england’s youth team. you were more than happy for her and watched as she smashed in goal after goal week in and week out.
alessia was so proud of you who were doing quite good as well, playing for the local team in kent. ruling the midfield and scoring some nice goals yourself. of course, when she didn’t have training or her own games, she was there to watch.
everything between the two of you was just perfect, you went to school, played football and had each other. and that weekly routine worked perfectly well for you.
but as they say, all good comes to an end.
the blonde striker and you had only one month left of school before graduating and you were buzzing. you had told your girlfriend that you weren’t too sure of what to do now. sure, you had applied for some courses at a university in london. but other than that your plan was to chill a bit, playing some football and so on. it was no real rush anyways.
alessia on the other hand, had big plans coming up. the striker had applied for different collages in the usa to be able to play football on a higher level, as well as studying. but these great plans of hers weren’t anything you were aware of.
so graduation came, you were celebrating with your friends from school, as well as had a graduation party with each other that your families had planned. everything was just perfect. a few days later alessia had to leave for camp, and that’s when she thought it was time to break the news to you.
“uh, y/n…” she started as she felt a big lump in her throat. “i uh- i, i have a applied for some collages in the usa for the upcoming years. and i uh, i got accepted for unc in north carolina.” she stuttered out nervously.
“oh.” was all you got out, as she saw tears threatening behind your eyes. “less that is great for you.” you forced out with a weak smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner, i really am.” the blonde whispered out. “but i just, i just didn’t know how to tell you and then time passed and you kn-“
“i get it alessia.” you said bluntly. alessia frowned a bit at the usage of her full name, instead of one of a nickname she knew you had, on your never ending list.
“but i thought we could make it work anyways. i’d come back when i have breaks, and maybe you could do the same and we call and text each other all the time. i mean we can do that yeah?” she started to ramble.
“i… i have to go.” you said and left, slamming the door in her face a little too hard. with the sound of your steps leaving, alessia broke down on the floor and cried. this was not the way she had thought it’d be.
sad and slow alessia went to camp, as she put on a smile on her face. this time it didn’t quite reach her eyes though. when game day came around, the lionesses were playing in london. the blonde excitedly looked towards the small crowd to see if you were there, like you had planned. but to her disappointment, you weren’t. she saw her mom looking at her with sad smile, confirming what she feared.
after camp, alessia went straight to your house, only to be met by your mom, who didn’t look oh- so happy.
“please let me talk to her, i need to speak to y/n.” the blonde pleaded.
“alessia, she is broken, she doesn’t want to see you right now.” your mom answered with a stern face. “and you know why.” she added quickly.
of course alessia knew all this was her fault, but she also knew this was something she had to do for her career. so when august came around, she packed all her stuff and flew to her new home for the upcoming years.
the two of you hadn’t spoken since before her england camp, despite her texting and calling everyday, with no success of reaching you. as the blonde forward landed in north carolina, she sent yet another text message “i’m in the usa now. i miss you y/n, please call me<3 i know we can work this out”. to her big surprise you this time gave her a short reply “i miss you too, good luck with everything.”
maybe, just maybe this bitter end of yours, would turn around? maybe that could be the case for you two.
—————
the years past and alessia was now in back in england, more specifically in the red side of manchester. she had also gotten her first call up to national team. her time at collage had been an absolute blast, but not one day went without her thinking of you.
thanks to social media, she knew you lived in central london now. she knew you studied at queen mary university to become a journalist, a dream you had had as you grew older. and she knew you had a new life, that didn’t include her.
the years flew by and right out of nowhere alessia was the front face for the lionesses having won the euros, gotten a silver medal in the world cup and was now settled in north london. but still, not a day went by without her thinking of you. not a day went by without her wishing she could tell you about all her adventures and experiences she’d gotten the past years. not a day went by without her wishing to have you in her life. she wondered if you kept up with her life, what you would’ve said and if you were proud of her.
it had been a tough game for arsenal against their blue london rivals, chelsea. the blues had beaten the gooners with a comfortable 3-1 win at stamford bridge. despite the loss, she bid her thank yous to the fans, as well as signing some autographs and taking some photos. just as she was about to walk away into the dressing rooms, she spotted a face she would recognise anywhere. was it you? it couldn’t be? she blinked, and just like that you were gone.
as the striker got home she burst down in tears, putting on the hoodie you once gave her, thinking back to all the times you had been there and comforted her. especially after a loss. you always knew what to say and what to do, to make her feel better.
alessia replayed the day she told you about her heading off to collage over and over again, and thought once again, what she could’ve done differently. so the arsenal player grabbed her phone and typed in your contact, because of course she still had it saved with a red heart next to your name. but she quickly came to her senses and closed her phone. she couldn’t be that selfish.
she knew you were happy and had a baby. she knew that her name was olivia, just like the two of you had planned. what alessia didn’t know was whether after all these years, you had forgiven her or not. because believe her or not, even if it didn’t work out, the years you had together ever since you were 9 years old were the most meaningful and important to her.
but, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.
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buckys-wintersoldier · 3 months
Text
His forever and ever
// Chapter Five //
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// Pairing //
→ (Ex-)Boyfriend!Mob!Bucky Barnes x (Ex-)Girlfriend!Reader
// Summary //
→ Bucky does everything to show you what you really mean to him - also being stuck in a swing as long as you laugh. Plus rooftops are still the best place to make confessions.
// Wordcount //
→ 4.646 Words
// Warnings // Teen
→ fluff, feeling, a lot of love, hint of angst, Bucky being scared by Steve, love confession
// Authors Note //
→ The biggest thank you to the amazing @bucks-babe for proofreading, coming up with more details.
// Events //
-> Fandom-Free Edition: Wild Edition | I5 | ‘Tell me something sweet to get me by’ | @fandom-free-bingo
-> Multifandom-Flash Bingo: March | B5 | Compliment Backfire | @multifandom-flash
// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //
// Series Masterlist //
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<- Chapter Four
     The evening you and Bucky ended up in a dark alley and then in the restaurant was a few weeks ago now. You didn’t make it that easy for Bucky to get close to you again but he never relented, making sure he proves that he really means what he promised.
     When the two of you finished your food that day, he asked you to drive you home but he also made sure that you know that he won’t accept a no. Not because he wants to pressure you, just because he loves to protect you. And you would have said yes anyway, it was cold, rainy and having a drive in Bucky’s car with him is just so much fun.
     “Doll, you— come one. No,” Bucky laughs, trying to push your hands away from the radio but one glare of you and he lifts his hand in defense. “Got it, you’re the one who can decide which music we play, in MY car.”
     With a proud smirk you tap a few bottoms and surprisingly — or not really because he is still so in love with you — your favorite playlist is still on top. You tap it and turn the volume higher.
    “I love that song!” You shout, singing along with it, while Bucky drives a longer way to your home. He hasn’t heard your voice in a while and especially not so happy, or singing. He could listen to you all day, all night and he would never get tired of it.
     He brought you home, asked you if you would be interested to go out with him the other day and since it was your day off you agreed. Bucky told you it’s a secret where you're going. It was a long walk through the park, around the small lake and then he surprised you with a picnic.
     And after that he made sure that you knew when he was working or busy with meetings but he also told you to just call him in case you need something, company or “just your favorite man to save your pretty ass from weirdos”.
     And then there was the day where you knew that he was in a meeting, but it was rainy and already turning dark. You had just ended your shift in the bar and you were on your way home when someone was following you.
     Without thinking twice you remember Bucky’s words. ‘Call me when you need me. I told you you’re my priority and I will show you, nothing is more important than you for me, dragǎ mea.’
     So you pull your phone out of your pocket and tap Bucky's contact. Actually you would giggle about your background, which shows Bucky hanging in a swing, you’re not sure how he managed to get stuck in it but he did and you couldn’t help and took a photo which is now your background. But since you’re scared because the man behind you follows you the whole time you immediately look for Bucky’s contact and call him.
     It doesn't take  long for Bucky to pick up. “Hey, dragǎ mea, are you alright?” His voice is worried and you can hear him shifting in his seat when you don’t answer immediately.
     “Bucky, I’m so sorry, I—I know you’re busy,” you say, voice shaking. Tears build up in your eyes and you need a moment to calm yourself down, inhaling deeply.
     “Breathe, doll,” he mumbles. Then you hear him saying something to the men in his office before he leaves the room. “So what’s wrong?”
     “Could you— someone is following me and I— Bucky can you pick me up please? I’ll walk back to the bar right now,” you explain, hoping he will say yes and he does, assuring you to be there in less than ten minutes to pick you up from the bar.
     And Bucky did exactly what he said, picking you up a few minutes later at the bar. The man who followed you changed immediately the direction he was walking in, his eyes widened when he saw Bucky wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to his car.
     Bucky’s presence makes you feel safe and you feel comfortable around him, knowing that he loves you the way you are and that you don’t have to be someone else for him. He compliments you everytime, loving the way your cheeks heat up and you avoid his intense stare.
     “You look breathtaking like always, dragǎ mea,” Bucky says, a soft smile crossing his lips when his eyes roam up and down your body.
     He had asked you to go out with him, letting you decide which restaurant you want to go to. But just before you decided you told him to look for a dress, but there was none you liked in your wardrobe so Bucky used that opportunity to spoil you. He picked you up at home, told you you’re going shopping now and even though he knows that you can buy things on your own he will pay the bill for you.
     So you’re just changing into the dress you loved the most, walking out of the changing room and presenting it to Bucky. His mouth drops open, then he smirks and nods at you.
     “Breathtaking, doll. Do you like it because I absolutely love it, it’s fitting perfectly to you,” Bucky says, getting off the bench he is sitting on and making his way closer to you. “Do you want that or do you want to look for another dress?”
     You love that man, not just because he is spoiling you but also because you could go shopping with him for hours and he wouldn’t get bored — or he wouldn’t show you. Plus he compliments you so much but also tells you what he really thinks about the clothes you’re trying and you’re grateful that you two have the same taste in things.
     “This one is perfect, but it’s expensive, I should pay for it myself. We’re not meeting so you have to pay everything for me, Buck,” you say, Bucky’s hands grasping yours and causing you to look up and into his ocean blue eyes.
     “Can you twirl around for me?” He asks, lifting your hand and you twirl, giggling softly. Bucky admires the way the flying fabric is revealing your soft skin. When you stop twirling around you look back into his eyes. “I know you can pay for your bills, dragǎ mea. So if you want to, you can pay for that dress by yourself, because I don’t want to give you the feeling I want to buy you. But I love spoiling you, so I would love to pay for the dress and take you out on the planned date after.”
     The two of you had a lot of dates since the day Bucky asked you to get a second chance. And he never upset or disappointed you. Whenever you call him, he is there, showing you that his work doesn’t mean as much as you do for him.
     He doesn’t care that he is in the middle of the meeting — you need attention? You get his attention. Bucky has seen the world without you which is nothing he wants to experience once again.
     With you his world is bright, full of smiles and joy, happiness and love. But without you by his side it was not even close to that. His world turned dark the day you left the mansion, his smile faded away, his nights were sleepless and the joy and happiness wasn’t there anymore. Someone tried to make a joke? He glared at them with an annoyed  expression, his heart aching, his soul broken and the only person who was able to heal his wounds was you.
     You’re still the only person who can do this, but since he could maybe get another chance, his world lights up slowly. With you everything looks so easy, he feels like he can reach every goal as long as he as you by his side. And yes it needed a while for him to recognise that, but when he did — when his world crashed down on him — he knew one thing — getting you back is everything he needs, everything he craves. Because Bucky craves  you, adores you, loves you and he would do everything for you just to keep you close to him and see you smile at him — especially that soft smile you reserve for him.
     But then there was Steve, you have never seen Bucky that afraid — unless you were mad at him and didn’t accept make up sex. But when you asked Bucky to come to your shared apartment to tell Steve that you go on dates with Bucky, his eyes widened and he shook his head immediately.
     “I— You know I would do a lot for you, but I can’t come with you there and meet Steve. I’ve only met him once and that was before we broke up and all that,” Bucky explains, shaking his head wildly.
     “He won’t hurt you, Buck. And in case we will be together again you will see him too, so please?” You pout softly, trying your best puppy look until Bucky agrees with a sigh.
     He has never felt that scared around someone but when he walks into the apartment behind you, his body tenses and he wants to turn around and convince you to do something more fun. Bucky shakes his head, inhaling deeply and goeing you into the living room where two men are sitting.
     “Stevieeee! Look who I picked up,” you say with a giggle. Tony is looking at you first, his eyes widen when he realizes who your ex-boyfriend is.
     “WOAH!” Tony shouts, his eyes scanning Bucky up and down, then he smirks when he sees the big mobster shifting from one foot to the other. “He doesn’t look like a mobster. He looks pretty cute.”
     “Shortstack! Don’t look at another man like that,” Steve complains, slowly turning around. The moment you walked with Bucky into your shared apartment he knew you would bring your other half. Steve had that feeling boiling in his stomach and he was right, but when he turns around and sees the big broad man looking so small he can’t help but smile softly. “Hey, James.”
     The soft voice of your best friend surprises Bucky and he smiles helplessly. He nods toward the other men, then he turns his face to you and blushes softly.
     “Come on, big boy, don’t be shy now,” you tease him, earning a glare that makes you laugh even more. “Say hey and take a seat, they won’t bite. Although, I’m not sure, Stevie has some bite marks one or another day.”
     Now it's Tony who blushes and tries to hide himself behind his boyfriend. You pull Bucky with you toward the couch, pushing him down before you take a seat next to him. Both of you sit opposite Steve and Tony and you feel Bucky tensing when Steve stares at him.
     “Stevie, don’t scare him! You can’t scare a sweet little puppy,” you say, earning a chuckle from Steve.
     The four of you talk a while about everything, the men laugh together and you’re glad that Steve isn’t jumping on Bucky and punshing him for being an ass.
     Tony makes his way into the kitchen, showing you to follow because he has something for you. You look at Bucky, who isn’t looking like a lost puppy anymore before you follow the other man. You know that Tony wants to offer you your favorite cookies but it’s also the perfect opportunity for your Bucky and Steve to talk.
     “You know, I will come and cut off your dick when you hurt her once again. I love her, I would protect her from you but as much as I hated you for hurting her, I see her when you’re around. You know, she was nothing but a shadow of herself when she moved in here, it was better after a while but everything reminded her of you. Now, when you’re around she is so much happier, her eyes light up in the most beautiful way and—“ Steve stops himself, giving Bucky a moment to think about his words.
     “I know, I have seen her. I watched my girl until I decided to ask her for forgiveness. I thought she would never forget me, and I would have understood it but without her, I’m nothing and I needed a bit until I noticed but I won’t hurt her again. Steve, she is everything to  me and I know I hurt her, and I won’t forgive myself for a while but I need her and I adore her — I would marry her immediately if I could,” Bucky tells your best friend, causing the blond haired man to smirk before he nods.
     “That’s good! Wouldn’t like to cut off your dick, she said you’re good in bed,” Steve laughs, winking at Bucky.
     Bucky’s eyes widen, he blushes and rubs his hands over his thick thighs. “She told you about our sex life?”
     Steve nods, but before he can answer you’re walking back into the room with Tony, smirking at Bucky with a mischievous grin. “He is my best friend, of course he knows about things in bed, Buck. I also know stories in bed about these two here.”
     You’re  glad that Bucky, Steve and Tony became friends, so you were able to bring Bucky to your shared apartment or you could go out together. But more than that you love the time when you’re just with Bucky — when he shows you all his love and affection for you. There are a lot of things Bucky did for you, showing you that he really changed, that he has seen the darkness without you. He runs his business with Sam now, so he has a lot of time for you, and he uses that time especially when it gives him the opportunity to get you back.
     Bucky invited you to your favorite restaurant today and there you are right now, but not in the building because you’re still waiting for him outside. It’s warm but it slowly turns dark outside and you wonder if he put his work first again, or if he is tired of waiting for you to trust him again. But just before you want to call him or decide to go with him, he appears, walking out of the restaurant with a soft smile on his pretty lips.
     “Sorry that you had to wait but I promise it was worth it,” he assures you, holding his hand out to take yours. You place your smaller hand in his, sighing softly when his fingers curl around yours and he pulls you closer against him. “You look beautiful, did you have a good ride?”
     You nod, exactly knowing that Bucky knows who brought you there because it was one of his men who picked you up at your apartment and drove you to the restaurant. “It was nice, he had a good playlist and the seat had a heating so it was perfect.”
     Bucky chuckles, then he grasps into his back pocket and holds something in front of you. You tilt your head slightly to the side, narrowing your eyebrows until you notice what he was holding in his hand.
     “Kinky boy,” you chuckle, raising an eyebrow when you look into his ocean blue eyes. Bucky shirts, a smug grin on his lips when he lets go of your hand and takes the blindfold he is holding, in both of his hands to help you take it on. You chuckle when you feel his big, warm hands sliding over your skin and softly through your hair, Bucky smirks at you, leaning closer to place it right, his warm breath hitting your face and you shiver lightly.
     “So, I promise I won't let you run into something, just trust me, oke?” Bucky asks, kissing your cheek softly before he places his one hand on your waist and walks around you, standing behind you. He then pulls you flush against him, his broad chest pressed against your back and you feel the goosebumps erupting all over your skin with him being so close to you, both of his hands on your waist, holding you close while he waits for an answer from you.
     “Like you told me you would come out of the swing without problems?” You chuckle, leaning your head back to rest it against his shoulder while you sigh softly. His warmth and soft touches are feeling just so good.
     “That's not the point, dragǎ mea. And I came out of it without destroying it, I just fell forward and lied there like a– what do you call it?”
     “Whale, Buck,” you giggle, feeling his hot breath on the skin of your neck when he laughs softly. Bucky tried to convince you to never mention the swing accident ever again but you just can't stop it, and especially not when you see your background, it was just too funny. He definitely looked like a whale, maybe a muscular whale but he just fell forward and his legs were still stuck so, even though Bucky wouldn't confess it but he thinks the same way as you about the evening.
     “But I'm the prettiest whale you have ever seen,” he grumbles, pressing one of your legs forward with his so you take a step forward, then another.
     “You’re the only whale I have ever seen in real life until now. But yes, you’re the prettiest, Buck,” you mumble, letting him lead you into the restaurant. You immediately inhale the sweet scent of the food, but Bucky leads you further through the room. The voices around you are almost completely ignored from you with Bucky's thick arms wrapped around your waist, his broad chest pressing against your back and his legs pressing yours forward.
     “Then we should definitely show you a whale, how about a boat trip?” Bucky asks, and causes you to chuckle. He then nods toward a man who opens another door for the two of you. The noises from the restaurant are quiet when the door shut close behind you, causing you to flinch. The mobsters hands move up and down your sides, calming you down. “There are stairs in front of us now, twelve.”
     Together with Bucky you count the stairs, stepping slowly up while he follows you, his hands never leaving your waist. When you’re finally up you sigh softly, inhaling the cool air of the night and you wonder where you are. Before you can ask, you're pushed further forward, then Bucky stops and walks around you, taking a step back. You hear him picking something up and a soft chuckle leaves his lips when you turn your head toward the noise.
     “You can take it off now, dragǎ mea,” he says softly, waiting for you to take off the blindfold to face him. When you do so, your mouth drops open, Bucky is standing just a few steps away from you, a big basket of roses in his hands and he smiles softly, his blue eyes focused on you, and you stare from the flowers to him and then to the table behind him. There are more roses, candles and it just looks so romantic and perfect that you feel your heart beating faster and a tingling inside of your stomach.
     Bucky and you are on the roof of the restaurant, the lights of the city light up the night but you're still able to see the moon and the stars when you look up. You know Bucky is good with locations for a date but you didn’t thought that for the date right now. “For my best girl just the best, doll.”
     “Bucky! That looks wonderful, I-I don’t have words,” you say, blushing softly while walking closer to him. Your hands softly wrapped around his waist and you pull him closer, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pushing you closer and taking care that he doesn't squeeze the roses in his hands. “Thank you.”
    The mobster ordered a full menu for the two of you, ignoring that you won't be able to eat everything , but he just wanted to make it perfect and give you the opportunity to eat whatever you want and as much of it as you want. The talks are funny and light and even though you never thought Bucky would change himself for you, and be the way he was – focused on his work – after a few days, he showed you that he means what he said and that you're his priority.
     “And, do you think you can forgive me and give me another chance?” Bucky asks, getting off the chair and walking around the table. He reaches his hand out for you to place yours in his. When you do so, Bucky pulls you softly up and against his chest, he then lifts you by your hips and walks to the edge of the roof.
     He places you in front of him, turning you toward the city before he pulls you close and places his chin on your shoulder, his big, veiny hands around your waist to pull you as close as possible. “When I look over the city everything I think about is you. This is ours, our city our home – I thought that's the most important, that I needed to have all of that to have you. But it's not true, there is more than all the materials on this world that matter, and most important in my life is you, dragǎ mea,” he says, quietly. His blue eyes roaming over the roofs of the houses in front of you. You smile softly, sliding your hands down to place them on top of his, then you let your head fall backwards against his shoulder.
     “I think I can, but there is one more condition,” you say with a mischievous grin across your lips. You giggle softly when Bucky groans playfully against your neck, his lips trailing softly over your soft skin, causing you to sigh softly and tilt your head to the side to give him more space.
     “What's the condition? No sex for a year? I can handle that as long as I have you,” he says, biting softly into your neck. You shake your head, causing him to furrow and look at you until you tell him the condition.
     “You’re so needy, Buck, you can't be a year without sex, and I can’t either.”
     “You're right but just because you're so sweet and sexy. Can't help myself, doll. But what's the condition then? I can make you a whole bunch of mini James’,” Bucky suggests, making you laugh.
     “Doesn't sound bad, but let's talk about that later. I want you to tell the world that you love me,” you say, feeling him chuckle against your soft skin. He loves when you're bossy. And even though everyone around will find out that the mobsters biggest weakness is his girl, he will gladly do it. He nods, kissing your neck once again before he leans back to stand straight, his arms still wrapped around you.
     “Everything for you, dragǎ mea,” he says, inhaling deeply before he smirks widely, ready to shout it into the world, that he is a sofite for you.
     “Who thought the day where the mobster shows his real side would come already. I didn't but here I am, standing on the roof, my girl in my arms and everything I feel is love and affection. I messed up, thought my business would make her stay, that I had to give her the city, the country, the world to make her love me but as always — my future wife, the love of my life showed me once again, that there is more than that. I thought I would lose her because I was too much of the person I never wanted to be, cold and arrogante,” Bucky shouts, some of the people standing in the streets, looking up where the two of you are standing. “But nothing could ever fill the hole she would leave when she would leave me. I found love in the most adorable and wonderful girl I have ever met and I would do everything for her. So world, this is my love confession to my girl. Y/N – almost Barnes –this is the promise, in front of everyone who hears that, from me to you. I will love you forever and ever, and I will protect you with everything I have. You’re everything for me and I will never miss you like I did again.”
     You turn toward Bucky, looking up at him with tears in the corner of your eyes. He was always good at being romantic and lovely but this is just more than you have ever hoped for. He drops his face, looking at you, his hands immediately find its place on your cheeks, his thumbs running over your cheeks to wipe the tears away. Bucky smiles softly, leaning closer until there are only inches between the two of you.
     The two of you haven't kissed since you’re dating again, you wanted to be sure he really meant what he said and he wanted to wait for the right moment — which is right now.
     Bucky waits for you to break the distance between your lips and you do. The moment your lips touches everything around you is suddenly so far away, the only thing that matters are the two of you for one another. His lips are so perfect soft and warm against yours, he moves them softly, causing you to moan softly, desperate for more. Neither of you cares about the people cheering in the streets, laughing and clapping in their hands — for you it’s only Bucky who is important right now, and you’re everything that’s important for him.
     “Can you do me a favor too, dragǎ mea?” He asks when you pull away, his forehead resting against yours and his breath is heavy. You nod, looking into his ocean blue eyes which glistening with so much love and affection — just for you. “You asked me to tell the world that I love you, how about you do the same?”
     Bucky knows that you won’t shout it out loud, he knows that’s what you meant when you asked him to do that but it’s not what he is asking for right now. He smirks when you nod again, standing on your tiptoes and leaning closer to his ear.
     “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes,” you mumble, causing a shiver to run down his spine. “You’re everything for me and I will give you another chance. I love you more than everything and I know that you meant whispering that into your ear when you asked me to do the same like you did. And yes, you were my world, you are my world and you will forever be my world. I’m yours Bucky, forever and ever.”
     He smirks, when you lean back he immediately presses his lips against yours once again. The kiss is passionate but still soft, filled with so much love and adoration, that you could melt in his arms.
     “Mine, forever and ever. I love you too, and I will make it better this time! I will keep my promises, I will be the man I always wanted to be for you, thank you. You’re everything, doll. Could we continue to kiss you all night, or how about we go home and continue kissing there? Maybe with a bit more action?” Bucky asks, grinning mischievously. You nod, cravingving him just as much as he craves you.
-> Chapter Six
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clockwayswrites · 1 year
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I didn’t write two parts this week or anything. Nope.
But apparently you all have been very good/bad/tired/enby and deserve to be spoiled. Who am I to deny that?
Master List: Start of ‘Thirst Trap Lessons‘ wc 1220
Danny jolted up, going out of frame on the video call. "I have to seduce Red Hood."
"...dude," Tucker said after a moment. "He already likes you."
"As Jason."
"You just said they're the same person," Sam pointed out.
"That’s not important, not if they're pretending they're not. He's not, I mean. If I want to date Jason I have to convince Red Hood to let me and the easiest way to do that is to get with Red Hood too."
"Just pointing out that, again, he already likes you, my dude."
"As Jason. How is this confusing you?"
Sam sighed in that soul weary way that only someone who had been friends with Danny for years could sigh. "You're the one being weird. They're one person."
"With totally different lives.” How were they not getting this. They had been friends with him during his Phantom era. They had to understand the vigi life a little. Just because Jason and Red Hood were the ‘same person’ it didn’t mean they had the same needs or wants or even personality. “Nope. Need to seduce Red Hood."
"Danny, no." Two voices chimed back at the same time.
"Danny yes," he said, his smirk visible for a moment as he ducked down and ended the call.
He set his laptop aside and dug out his phone from between the couch cushions. It took him a moment to find the right number in his contact list.
"Danny?" The confusion in the voice was warranted. While they had all left Amity Park on surprisingly good terms, it was weird for him to outright call someone who wasn’t Sam or Tucker. Still, she was his best bet.
"Paulina,”Danny said. He knew that his grin was obvious in his voice and didn’t try to hold it back. “I need you to teach me how to be a lowkey thirst trap so I can seduce my accidental sugar daddy's boyfriend and date them both."
Silence hung heavy on the line. And then Paulina answered, "...oh we are so going shopping."
-
After some back and forth, Danny ended up going to Paulina in Metropolis. Paulina did demand to visit Gotham sometime, but pointed out she knew the stores in Metropolis already so shopping there would be way easier. This was especially true since she was in Metropolis to go to school for Fashion Merchandising.
Danny was pretty proud of her for that.
It was the two of them who had scattered to the East coast after graduation. A few had made it to the West coast, one down to somewhere in Texas, and the bulk had stayed in the Midwest. They weren’t all close, not by any means, but they tended to check in with each other in a sporadic group chat. Mostly it was talking about how freakishly normal everywhere else was.
Not that Danny could claim that about Gotham. (He thought the others might be sorta jealous of that.)
Still, even if it wasn’t a busy chat, it was a nice tether to have. It was a reminder that the insanity of their childhood had been real, but that they had made it out (mostly) alive despite it all. It was also a way to check in if they were being a little too weird— if the rest of the world really was that dulled.
“So,” Paulina started, smacking Danny’s hand away from where he was poking at his face mask again.
Apparently Thirst Trap Lessons started with a spa day.
“So?” Danny repeated, just to be an ass.
Paulina didn’t disappoint him and rolled her eyes. “So, now that we’re settled and soaking and alone, tell me about these people you’re trying to seduce.”
“Okay, well. Right. So this is a secret, which I won’t ask if you can keep because we’re Amity Parkers.” Danny said. He gave her the obligatory fist bump at that.
They had really come together as a class once the fact he was Phantom had become an open secret among the other students. None of them ever turned him in to the GIW or his parents. He liked to think it was more care than the fact that he had been revealed saving them all from being pulled into a realm of unending torture along with the school.
Amity Parkers knew how to keep secrets, they had proven that.
“They’re both the same person? Secret identity stuff. Just no one seems to know that.”
Paulina hummed. “Any people think they’re dating?”
“Apparently. One of them is Jason—”
“Sugar Daddy or boyfriend?”
“Sugar Daddy. Jason is… well, I’m pretty sure he’s rich? Even if he lives in Crime Alley.”
“Oh, so really a Sugar Daddy.”
Danny blushed red under his face mask. “I guess? Except I don’t think he knows he’s doing it! I sure didn’t. He just likes to help. He’s involved in a lot of charity stuff. But I’m pretty sure the money is his? Or his family’s? I don’t think it’s Red Hood’s.”
Paulina’s head let her head fall to the side so she could give Danny A Look at that. “Red Hood.”
“His other side. Sorta, um… anti-hero, vigilante, crime lord?” Danny said quickly in a squeak.
“Danny Fenton! What are you doing getting mixed up with vigilantism again!” She shouted, leaning over the edge of her tub to slap at his arm. “You were supposed to be—” Slap. “—done—” Slap. “—with—” Slap. “—that!”
“I am! Stop slapping me! I am done with it. I don’t help out or anything! I didn’t even know about the Red Hood part until Jason insisted I get some self-defense training because he was worried about me. And then I show up and bam— he’s also Red Hood!”
“And no one knows?”
“Not that I’ve met.”
Paulina was glaring at him again. “And just how did you notice?”
“He, um, might sorta be a Revenant?”
Slap. “Danny!”
“Come on Paulina, he’s amazing! He’s kind and confident and you should see his thighs,” Danny defended himself. “And… and since he’s died before maybe if this actually goes somewhere it means that he won’t…”
“Oh Danny,” Paulina said in a much softer tone.
Danny smiled a sad, lopsided little thing. “Don’t say my name like that. It’s something I have to think about. That’s just being realistic.”
Danny squirmed under Paulina’s gaze for a long minute before she finally looked away. “So one persona is a rich do gooder and the other a vigilante and everyone thinks they’re dating.”
“I know, wild how everyone just assumes that. They’re never even in the same room!”
“Not really,” Paulina said with a shrug. “Before we knew you were, you know, you, the whole school totally thought that Danny-you and Phantom-you were dating.”
Danny chocked on air. “What?!?”
“Like, I mean, so, you were always defending his name and Sam and Tucker would ask you if he was alright after ghost attacks and you got, like, all protective whenever the GIW was in town,” Paulina said. “So we thought you were dating you. I was totally jealous too.”
“Oh Ancients. Is that why everyone was asking me things like if Phantom felt cold to the touch?” Danny squeaked.
Paulina just laughed at him as Danny slid further down into his mud bath.
-----
AN: Ailithnight’s reply here was spot on that Danny was treating Jason and Red Hood like they had two separate needs even knowing they were one person, so I felt motivated to go off and finish up this scene that goes into his thought process for it. Please ignore that it really doesn’t have a start. I just really like the idea of Danny getting that it’s different in and out of the suit and while it’s not like it’s actually two personalities, there still are two very different needs and he has to step up and date both. It’s also nice that he can be more Phantom around Red Hood (Danny misses him a little).
I don’t know if I got Paulina’s Voice right, but I tried! I just find this concept hilarious, and I also think she’d understand masking, from a social side, maybe too well. Hope you all enjoyed being spoiled today and say delightful, darlings!
Good Squad, as you’ve named yourselves:
@addie-lover-of-stories​ @bathildaburp​ @d4ydr34min9​ @sometimesthingsfallapart​  @vythika96​ @worthlesswall​ @aroranorth-west​ @chrysanthemum9484​ @ver-444​ @impulsiveasshole​ @meira-3919​ @lazy-bouqet​ @cryinginthevoid​ @thegatorsgoose​ @cutelittlebeanie​ @blankliferain​ @ramblingkat​ @screamingtofillthevoid​ @themirrorghost​ @skulld3mort-1fan​ @may-rbi​ @nixthenerd​ @moonlupine​ @olivethetreebitch​ @overtherose​ @roseinbloom02​ @v-inari​ @nappinginhell​ @imchildish8775​ @leftmiraclechaos​ @mimilikey​ @mygood-bitch99​ @ailithnight​ @busterkeel​ @avelnfear​ @ravenshadow17​ @demigraceling-blog​ @maskygirl55​ @sroomheaddoc​ @undead-essence​ @desertbogwitch​ @addie-lover-of-stories​ @magic-pincushion​ @phantom-dc​ @lazy-bouqet​ @gin2212​ @meira-3919​ @apointlessbox​  @hollowgast1​ @cutelittlebeanie​ @friends-fam-fiends-hellothere​ @serasvictoria02​ @dulceringo​ @moonlupine​ @mushroom-jack​ @icedbluesoul​ @lumosfeather18581​ @impulsiveasshole​ @coruscateselene​ @escelia​ @firegirl108​ @roseinbloom02​ @crystalqueertea​ @booberrylizard​ @phoenixdemonqueen​ @shorterthanadverage​ @pyramaniac​ @seraphinedemort​ @fallenangle67​ @chaoticchange​ @soren1830​ @trippingovermyfeet​ @nutcase8691​ @themirrorghost​ @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff​ @a-salty-sal​ @guardianrex​ @dsabian​ @crystalqueertea​ @v-inari​ @8-29pm​ @consouling​ @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair​​
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rexlroze · 6 months
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𝟏 — 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, no physical description of reader (other then their clothing), Swearing, Mention of Alcohol, Mention of bugs, Violence/Fighting, and mostly Fluff I think.
𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠
𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
A/N: This is my first time EVER writing a proper fanfic so if it sucks. Yeah. Idk- I tried my best tbh and hope y'all like it cuz if not, idk either. I'll be doing a tag list so if you want in, uh. Comment or sumn ig. Leave tips for me to improve in areas you think I need improvement! Also this isn't exactly canon to Earth-138. It's set in the early 2000s cuz no way am I writing for the fucking 1960s or whatever fuckin' year that mf comes from. I don't do requests nor do I plan on doing so. Happy Reading! 💛
Chapter 1 >>> Chapter 2
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Recently, you just moved out of your parents house into a small cozy apartment in the North of London. About 200 miles away from your mummy and daddy dearest.
“No ma, I've already rented out my parlor. 'm not changing my mind at the last minute.” You grumbled into your phone as your mom hounded you with questions about literally everything. Your health, food, water, apartment and your new parlor.
Your new parlor, you were proud to say. You had finally rented out a small shop in Camden which was about a 10 minutes walk away from your apartment.
The only problem was that the area where your shop was grounded, it was in a small narrow area where people barely passed by and only a few residents lived and since you couldn't really afford a better place due to the flies that flew out of your wallet when you opened it and your limited budget, you just had to deal with it.
“Just know, if you ever need anything sweetie, me and your pops are always here.” Your mother reassured you sweetly but you could hear the concern trailing behind her voice.
“Yeah thanks, ma. Love you, and dad.”
“Love you too, sweets. But if you need anything like money, food or even—”
“Ma.” You cut her off abruptly.
“Yes?”
“I'll be fine, alright? I love you.”
“We love you too, sweetie.” She finally answered after a second of hesitation.
With that, you hung up the phone. Beeps punctuated the silence hanging in your room before you let out a deep sigh.
You sunk into your bed, looking up at the ceiling. As supportive your parents tried to be, they didn't really trust you with your career choices. The first time you told them you wanted to be a body piercer, they laughed and brushed it off… that was until they figured out you were being 100% serious.
You were grateful they didn't try to stop you, not directly at least because they never failed to mention and suggest a few other paths of careers. They got to the point of getting so desperate that they even suggested acting school but alas, you were as stubborn as a mule.
You got your license around 2 months ago. You can still remember yourself squealing and hopping around in your (old) room like a five year old who just got a puppy for Christmas. You couldn't wait to finally quit your side job (which was being a boring cashier with fake smiles and a faker kindness towards the karens that walked in and ruined your Monday mornings) and start your own little business in London. Your literal dream.
I'll get to work tomorrow. You thought to yourself since it was pretty much late afternoon now, turning the next 3 hours into a continuation of scrolling on your phone, listening to music on blast from the speakers sitting by your desk and knocking yourself out with some cheap bottle of booze that you bought during your ride to your apartment from the airport.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Making your way through the streets of Camden, you didn't fail to see the liveliness of it. People busy with their own lives, friends giggling, children skipping, couples holding hands, staring at one another with heart eyes. 
Something squeezed your heart at the sight of the adorable couple. It reminded you of what you could've had with him if he hadn't… but unfortunately, what life throws at you isn't really under your control no matter how much you wish it could be.
You brushed off the nostalgia quickly and turned a corner, finding your parlor that you had rented about a week ago. You were met by sudden silence. The streets were quiet and empty other then the two teenage boys who were giggling and had run away after when you arrived, disappearing into a narrow alleyway.
You walked to where they previously stood just to see a poster. Specifically a band poster that was vibrant with different colors. A lanky punk boy posed in the middle of the poster with a guitar slung over his shoulder accompanied by three other members.
You couldn't help but get lost in the beauty of said punk boy. Honey-coated eyes that shone back at you, the color complimenting his ebony complexion along with his puffy jet-black hair that were braided into wicks, jawline so sharp that it made you wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers along them.
You shook your head, breaking the love trance you were stuck in. You didn't have time for dating, falling in love or whatever, not that you wanted to either. Your eyes zeroed on the big font at the bottom of the page.
“Spidersica, performing this 9th March at 9:30pm.” You read out loud to yourself. Almost 2 weeks away. Shrugging, you turn back to your shop. You'll decide what to do with that information on a later date.
You twisted the door knob that was attached to the black sleek door with the obscure glass window adorning it. The gold paint was scraping off the knob revealing the silver underneath. Besides that, when you turned the knob, the door didn't budge. You twisted it once more. Nothing. You pushed the door while twisting the knob the third time. Nothing again.
Slamming your body against the door in frustration, making the door burst open and you fall through it onto the cemented flooring. The bell atop the door chimed, swinging back and forth, mocking and taunting you.
Get the door fixed, you made a mental note as you pushed yourself up back onto your two feet. Running a hand over your T-shirt and straightening it.
You scanned the room, eyes roaming over the unused facility. Cobwebs decorating the corners of the roof, dust bunnies waving at you from the floor, old cream wallpaper peeling off the walls revealing the cemented wall beneath, the polluted air making you have a cough fit after you inhaled some dust accidentally.
Unshed tears pricked your eyes as your coughing fit wore off after a little while. “This could use some renovations,” you croaked out to no one in particular as you switched the light switch on.
The light bulb lit up producing a very bright light (brighter than normal) that illuminated the room. At least something works— your train of thought was cut off when the light bulb abruptly exploded.
“Just had to jinx it,” you grumbled, placing your hand onto your face.
You found your way to some curtains beside the door, pulled the long dirty brown pieces of linen apart, revealing a huge window that let the warm sunlight seep in and lighten the dark room. You slid the windows up to let the toxic air out and fresher air in. 
Get the curtains replaced. You noted down somewhere in your brain as you took in the hideous pattern of the curtains.
You walked around the shop, letting your hand trace the long wooden counter that extended from the wall. Dust collecting at your fingertips that you wiped off on your shirt.
Making your way through the shop, you found a recessed door that was fixed into the left wall on the opposite side of the parlor. You gently turned the door knob not wanting to repeat the incident that transpired a few minutes ago. It opened without a fight.
When you peeked your head in, you found yourself in a small closet room. Metal shelves up against both sides of the wall with various random and dirty objects decorating them. The closet was just as filthy as the rest of the shop.
You found boxes, some small, some large sitting at the other end of the closet. That must be the furniture! You think, making your way towards them.
As you pick up one of the boxes carefully, wrapping both arms around the box that was bigger than your own head. You suddenly yelped falling back on your butt, the box falling into your lap.
“Fuck no!” You screeched in horror as you saw a cockroach fly up in the air. “Nononononono.”
You dashed out the closet, almost tripping on your shoe laces that came undone who knows when, slamming the door shut so the pesky rodent wouldn't escape and terrorize the rest of your shop as well. “What the fuck!”
Mental note 3, get pest fucking control. So far, the day was not going as planned.
You released a deep breath pulling your phone out from your back pocket to check for damage. You've never been more grateful for the invention of phone cases in your life. You doubted your phone could bear another crack on it's already kinda-fucked-up screen.
Pocketing your phone once again, your hands rested on your hips. You stared at the floor trying to calm down. “Fuckin’ hell,” you murmured to yourself rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm.
You kicked off your left shoe and turned back to the closet, mentally preparing yourself for the battle your a lifetime.
After fighting for your life and clearing out your closet of any other unpleasantries that may surprise the living Christ out of you, you pulled out your phone and began typing in some to-dos into the notes app. Tile installment, cleaning, probably pipe replacement, a door fix, bulb and wiring replacement, paint, decoration and all that stuff with the budget of five fucking hundred pounds. Just yay.
You left the parlor with determination to accomplish your goal; renovate. You thought as you found your way through the door and back on the streets of Camden.
In a matter of a few hours, you had managed to hire a few mechanics and workers to, one, install marble floorings into the parlor, two, get any pipelines or such fixed, three, get all cracks and crevices in the walls plastered, four, fix the door lock, and fix, rewire and reinstall the lightbulb. All in the cost of four hundred and thirty pounds, and with the seventy pounds left, you could buy the paint, curtains, and other pleasantries as such.
Walking through the appliances stores, your phone on hand as you check off a few to-do boxes. Satisfaction bloomed in your chest to see how much you had done in the matter of a day. 
A small smile spread across your face as you made your way towards the next shop when a sudden boom behind you made you stop in your steps.
Screams fill the air but they're tuned out by the sudden high-pitched ringing in your ears. People passed by you running towards the exit and evacuating while you just stood there, unable to move for some reason when finally, your head snapped towards the chaos to see what everyone was running away from.
Green Goblin. You had seen him on the news whenever you scrolled on your phone for too long or when you scrolled through the TV channels and ended up on the news channel but never did you think you'd see him in real life but if the Green Goblin was here then…
Abruptly, the villainous individual who was flying abounding on his hoverboard and terrorizing everyone in the mall was knocked off by a swift kick. The one who delivered it was quick, you only saw the red and blues colors blurring together. Oh my fucking god, no way.
Slowly, the blurs of color started mashing together into an appropriate form. It's Spider-Punk. THE fucking Spider-Punk. And you were seeing him not through tv, but through your own goddamn eyes.
You watched as the Green Goblin regained his composure and lunged towards Spider-Punk. The two vigilantes participating in a violent game of tango while you stood there wide-eyed and stuck amidst the chaos sitting in the front seat.
It didn't take long for both vigilantes to notice your presence. All at once, a shout broke out from the red masked punk, “move!” when a broken piece of the wall was thrown right in your direction by the one and only Green Goblin. You saw the white's of Spider-Punk's mask widen.
Move. An inner voice in your head screamed. You couldn't. Move, goddamnit! Nothing. It felt as time had slowed down.
The stone piece inches away from your face, ready to smash your skull in when suddenly a silky white rope connected to your side and pulled you towards it. A hand wrapped around your waist and suddenly, now you're in the air.
Your heart thumped in your ears from the sheer amount of adrenaline and fear coursing through you as the two of you swung out the appliance store.
Your arms were subconsciously wrapped around his neck, your face was buried into the curve where his neck met his shoulder. You peeked your head up to see yourself high up in the air, and a glimpse of blurred green chasing the two of you.
You sucked in a shaky breath, you wondered if he could hear how loud your heart pounded, like it was gonna erupt from your chest anytime soon.
You felt heavy air hitting your back when he abruptly turned a sharp corner and now you're sitting on a dumpster in an alleyway who knows where with a vigilante in front of you checking for any major injuries.
“You alrigh’, love?”
It took you a minute to register his words due to the daze but you finally managed to choke out a “I'm fine,” your voice was slightly breathless but you didn't focus on that right now instead, you focused on the individual in front of you. 
You quickly took in his wardrobe. A red spandex bodysuit, spiked mohawk, leather jacket, collar, spikes, nets, guitar, red boots, blue laces— blue laces? well damn…
“Aight, take a breather f'me, lovelie. ‘m gonna go deal w’him, ay? Take care!” He shouted, his voice fading as he ran towards the exit of the alley and swung away before you could manage another response.
What the fuck just happened?
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
You slowly recovered from the incident that happened just three days ago. An hour long face call with your parents who had seen you on the news swinging around in the arms of Spider-Punk. You lost count after sixteen of just how many times your parents had asked you if you were okay.
You had paid off the workers to get the job done while you were away, now you could only hope they hadn't robbed you and were currently flying to another state with your money.
You didn't have much left to do from your to-do list. The only thing you needed was some paint and furniture. You had ordered the paint (and paid) online, it would be at the door of your parlor in about a few hours. Or at least that's what the notification you gotten had said.
As you were currently laying in bed clicking away on your computer and chewing on the back of a pencil you randomly found in your backpack and an orange sofa that you found in your fridge, something ringed in your head.
Right!
The concert, you were supposed to look into it when you got home. Unfortunately, it had pretty much slipped your mind due to your little experience about a day ago.
You clicked away, opening a new tab, “Spi…der…si…ca… baa…nnd.” You pronounced each syllable carefully while you typed away.
Pushing down the enter button, you were met by a white loading screen that led you to another google page. You clicked the first link and found yourself on another website.
“A popular punk band in london with the following members: Karl Morningdew, the bass Guitarist, Riri Williams, the keyboardist and Mattea Murdock, the drumist followed by their BandLeader, Hobart Brown, the guitarist—” Your voice slowly faded out as you saw the image of a familiar punk boy pop up that you had gotten lost in just a few days ago outside of your parlor. “Huh.”
You scrolled through the website until your eyes settled onto the information you were looking for, “Spidersica, publicly performing on the 9th of March.” The information was followed by the location and other necessary details.
“Eh, screw it. I gotta socialize anyway,” you blurted out, clicking off the tab.
After finishing another can of soda, you finally had gotten ready to go back out after locking yourself in your house for the past forty-eight hours. Patting the pockets of your jeans to make sure you had your phone and keys in them, you escorted yourself through the door of your apartment.
You soon find yourself making your way down the three quarter turn stairs and back on the roads looking up in the sky for a particular rebellious masked vigilante.
You didn't know what for, maybe to thank him. Or maybe just curiosity at its finest. You shrugged the thoughts off and continued making your way to the parlor. You didn't have time for a cat and mouse chase where the mouse doesn't even know he's being chased.
After all, you were no one special. Just a normal everyday civilian whom his job was to protect.
Finally arriving at your parlor, it looked a lot less abandoned than it did when you arrived three days ago, the front door opening with ease when you pushed the keys in and twisted the knob which was also replaced. You could tell due to the shining new gold color coating it.
Polished white marble tiles installed in the once cemented flooring. The crevices in the walls were filled out along with the old cream wallpaper removed. An air conditioner was fixed into the wall above the recessed door, a fixed bulb and working electricity.
Those were some major improvements but that didn't change the fact the place was still filthy as fuck.
You sighed and grabbed a broom that rested in the corner of the closet, pulling your headphones over your head and began sweeping away.
After you finished sweeping, you decide to install the new curtains you had bought. They were a dark marengo made of a silky smooth material. As you tried to push the curtains into the metal pole, the bell aloft the door began chiming signifying somebody had arrived, when you turned the door, you were met by a man who stood in a blue-ish uniform, a clipboard in his hand while he tapped the back of a pen on it.
“Uh hello, delivery for Y/N Y/L/N?”
“That would be me.”
“Oh, please just sign here.” He turned the clipboard around to face you, offering you the ballpoint he had.
You walked over, taking the pen from his hand and signed the piece of paper where he had told you to.
He put the clipboard away, taking the pen back from you as he stepped out and came back in with a large box placing it down onto the tile flooring. “G’day, madam.”
He politely bowed his head while you let out a small “thank you” after he tilted his head back up and walked back out the parlor.
You picked up the box that was immensely heavy, probably because of the damn paint cans in them, Sherlock, you had just assumed they most likely were the paints you ordered.
When you turned away, placing the box onto the counter, suddenly the bell chimed once again. You spoke without looking up, “did you forget something, Mr.mailman?”
“Mailman? Hardly.” A familiar angelic voice spoke, making you freeze, Spider-Punk—? You thought as you turned to the voice with wide eyes, but to your surprise. It was someone completely different.
“You good, love? You look like you just seen a ghost.” Honey-coated eyes, ebony complexion, jet-black hair, sharp jawline, is that-?
“Oh my god,” you breathed, “are you Hobart Brown?” your voice was a higher pitch than usual but you couldn't help it. “Oh my god, what are you doing here—” you were abruptly cut off by him.
“Okay okay, I'm gonna cut you off right there, love, first of all. Just call me Hobie. Please.” He chuckled, a small smirk on his face, “and well, second of all, I heard you did piercings, hm?”
“Oh. Uh… okay then, Hobie. Yes. Yeah, I do piercings, why?” Well, that's a stupid question.
“I was wondering if you could do mine, because as you can see, my face is pretty clean.” He smiles softly, pointing to his face that didn't bear any piercings… yet.
“Oh yeah, um. I'm not really open yet—” you cut yourself off at a sudden realization. “Wait, how'd you find me?” You raised an eyebrow, you only remember telling everyone in your circle about the parlor yet.
“Oh, one of my friends told me.”
You raised your eyebrow higher, confusion bubbling in you. “Can I know their name?”
“Yuri.” He shrugged nonchalantly.
Yuri? As in your goddamn BEST FRIEND Yuri?
“Yuri Watanabe?” You asked, expecting a no.
"You know her?"
Of course I know my damn best friend, dumbass! That's what you wanted to say, but instead you held your tongue.
“Well yeah, she's my best friend. We met at a bar back in York.” You didn't know why you were telling him, you didn't even know if you could trust him. After all, he was just a random stranger— sure he was famous or whatever but you still just found out about him like three days ago.
“Huh, I don't think she's mentioned you but nice to meet you, er…?”
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too, Hoba- Hobie.” You quickly corrected your small error.
“Y/N.” He looked like he was trying to remember something from a long time ago. Suddenly his eyes lit up, “oh yeah, she has mentioned you a couple times if I think about it.” He gave you a polite smile, “Do you need help? with whatever you're doing?”
“What?”
“I said do you want help?” He repeated, “seems like you could use some.” He observed, eyes roaming around your unfinished parlor.
“Do… are you looking for something in return?” You were confused by his sudden offer. He had to be wanting something in return, right? I mean, he learned your name like JUST a minute ago.
“Nah, just wanna help you out. Plus, you could prolly use some company, ay?”
“I mean… wait, why would you wanna do that? Aren't you busy with things like… practice or something.”
“Do you want help or not?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes.” You answered with a small voice, biting down on your lip gently.
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @hobieszeze @missshelleyduvall
Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune
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your-local-baguette · 1 month
Text
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How long has it been ?
Warnings: angst, Rin and sae childhood spoilers, swearing, not proofread, slow burn romance
Pairings: sae itoshi
Word count: 3.2k
Authors note: this was my first slow burn so it's not as long as i imagined but i hope you liked it and it took me a while to come up with all this lol
Also i can't tag the person that requested it since i can find them i'm sorry. But anyway enjoyy
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Large round eyes, sparkling with admiration. They were locked onto ...., so captivating. She stumbled up, her little legs running at full speed. Where they they bring her ?
To the very beginning...
"rinn!" A loud high voice called out, the child turning his head at the call of his name, the ambitious child's eyes lit up, his eyes locking on his classmate. The six year old girl stopped right in front of him, for he, was quite confused about the situation. What were you doing here ? The child's elder brother, an eight year old, looked at the two, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his face. "Rin! Rin!" The girl was almost jumping out of excitement "can i play with you two ? Pretty please!" The young girl almost yelled, as for the green haired child, he looked up at his auburn haired brother. The older child sighted heavily at the pleading eyes of his younger brother. "Uh..okay." both younger child jumped at this.
The net of the goal stretched back, stopping the football's motion, a scream of joy couod be heard, along with an impressed "woaah!" Although the more experienced here, kept silent. "Y/n that was so amazing!" Rin said, impressed by the young girls goal. The girl pointed back at herself with her thumb, a proud look attached to her face. "I'm so amazing!" She did a little dance of victory, happy with herself. Rin kept fawning over the goal she just made, boosting her childish ego even more.
The sun was setting in the distance, the children stopping to look at it. Your mouth gaped like a fish's, the two boys were also quite captivated. The sun slowly but surely disappeared, the sky darkened, signaling it was time to go home. " This was so fun! I hope we can play again!" The little girl said, earning a barely noticeable nod from the auburn haired kid, while the younger brother replied with joy "me too!"
You started walking back home, waving back at them, you git big waves from rin and a small raise of the hand from sae. The fresh air of the evening made the intense feeling of adrenaline be subsided by a feeling of comfort and security.
The days, weeks even years passed by so fast, it felt like just a few months but guess what, it was six years that passed by. You and rin stood side by side, tears about to spill out like waterfalls, Sae stood there, a frown on his face. "I'm going to spain" he said, his tone cold, but that small hint of sadness in it aswell. Gosh, it hurt him so much too. He eyed your sad expression, he wiped a tear off of your face. "I'll be back before you know it" just like that, he left for his plane. You turned to rin, who was also crying, you pulled him into a hug, "it will be fine, i'm still with you" he nodded, hiding in your neck. You felt awful, although in the same grade, you were still older than him, he was twelve, you were thirteen. "I'll practice with you, you'll climb up the ranks as a striker, and i'll be your midfielder ?" He nodded, pulling away from the hug, wiping his tear " i promise to protect you, i'll become the best striker along with you and big brother" he said, still a little childish. You smiled at him "i'm sure you will, let's go get an ice cream and walk a bit, it will make you feel better"
The two walked side by side, heading to the ice cream truck nearby, you let rin choose what he wanted. Handing some money to the man in the truck who handed rin his ice cream. "Huh ? You're not taking anything?" Rin said, a questioning look on his face. You shook your head "i'm not hungry" you answered, he nodded, you ruffled his hair, a sad smile attached to your face. "Hey! Don't ruffle my hair!" You giggled "only when you'll be taller than me" he pouted a little, still eating his ice cream. You sighted "i'll walk you back home, mkay?" Rin nodded, walking alongside you, his eyes lingering on the ground. "When do you think nii-san will be back?" You lingered for a bit aswell " i don't know, but like he said, he'll be back before you know it" "i trust you"
You stopped walking in front of his home "see you " you said, waving at him. To which he waved back heading inside, you sighted, walking back home. You didn't live very far, actually, your houses were pretty close.
Countless goals have been scored between you and rin, the small fields that were once occupied by three childrens, were now occupied by a fifteen year old and sixteen. But this is the moment things between you broke off...
"rin, i want to tell you something" rin looked back, his hair that grew longer, piercing teal eyes. You stopped ruffling his hair, he grew taller than you, "i-" he waited patiently for whatever you wanted to say. "I'm sorry but...i don't feel the same joy playing football anymore" this hit rin like a car at full speed, what do you mean ? You ? Not want to become the best midfielder anymore. Before he could say anything "i'm not saying i won't play with you here anymore, but i've had another passion for a while now. I don't want to keep that from you" rin gritted his teeth, this made more sad than you thought, it was the last thing he expected, he dig his nails into his palm "what's that passion" "volleyball " you answered him, quickly at that, he nodded "volleyball..." He repeated, "if you're happy then good" it's not like he could stop you "i promise to come here once in a while to play with you, alright ?" He nodded, but walked away, while you picked up your bag, heading to your practice. You gulped, heading to where your practice was supposed to happen. It was hard admitting this to rin...
As promised, you came back once in a while, to think you didn't play football seriously, yet now, you were teaching him how to score from a corner. You pointed the part of the foot he needed to use, and explained the movement he needed to do. He was listening carefully, you demonstrated the curved shot, it entered the goal, you told him you had to go, he let you off and simply kept on practicing what you taught him.
SAE POV
Gosh, for him it was hell in spain, Real Madrid was awful, especially with Leonardo. It was hell after hell, not day after day. He despised him, so damn much. He even gave up on becoming a striker, he tightened his grip on his phone.
A ding! Caught his attention, his eyes widened for a second, surprised to see.
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His hand trembled slightly, biting down on his lower lip, his thumbed ghosted over the follow back button. He took him a few seconds before he pressed it, feeling all the tension in his heart wash away. He wasn't going back to japan before another year, yet he wanted to book a flight right this instant and go back. He closed his phone, pushing himself off the wall, walking back to where he stayed.
Y/N POV
You walked out of practice, holding your phone to check any notifications, you most likely did have some, but one caught your eye.
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You smiled slightly, walking back to your home with a happy smile, gosh, you missed him. Did he miss you, he did, just not the same way you did...
...
You stood next to rin on the field you used to play as children, he was drinking a bit of water. While you were in your volleyball attire, the sun shining down, you smiled at him. "Thanks for playing with me. Really brings back memories" he nodded, he went to grab his ball but got reminded of something. "Happy seventeen birthday y/n" you smiled at him "thank y-"
"yea, happy seventeen birthday" a monotone voice said, from beside you, well not entirely, more like a few feet away. That auburn hair...those teal eyes...that neutral expression, it felt like he hadn't changed a single bit. A single tear rolled down your cheek, your mouth opened bit nothing came out. The wind swayed between the both of you, aa for rin he clenched his jaw and walked away. "Sae..." You said, with a soft voice, you extended a hand towards him and engulfed the man in a hug. He didn't hug you back, he let you do as you please, not like he really cared anyway. He felt your arms tighten around him, your figure shaking a little. "Your back..." You pulled away, walking a few feet back "what took you so fucking long ?" He didn't answer, simply keeping quiet, he wasn't messing up here. "How have you been ?" You asked, still hesitant, it took him a while to answer you "fine" he simply answered, not that wasn't true, it hadn't been fine, but as if he was going to tell you that. He was hesitant but..." And you..?" A small smile tugged on your lips "i've been good..." You caught him eyeing your attire, chuckling a bit "i joined japan national volleyball team recently, i don't play football anymore" he had to be honest, he was caught off guard by that. "I see... congratulations..." He said, still with that monotone voice.
You took a deep breath, but went for it anyway "i know you just got back...but, i want to know if you're willing to try to build our friendship again..." It took a lot out of you to say that, but here you were, asking the one question that had been lingering in your mind, ever since you saw that notification. At first, you thought he was going to say no, that from how long he was taking to answer you. But at last....
"okay..."
You smiled at him "thank you..it means more than you think." He hummed in response, the sun was completely set, the stars were shining at their brightest, you bit down on your lip. "I'll walk you home" you agreed, grabbing the volleyball that was resting at your feet, you both started walking, he took the side closer to the road of the sidewalk. You noticed how he was similar but also how much he changed, he was around 5'11 ( 180cm), his jawline was sharper and his hair was longer. Now his bangs were pushed back, still with the long under lashes, he was more muscular, lot more attractive that he was before, more man like. He was still as quiet as before, he wasn't awkward, just quiet and only spoke when necessary. You reached your home in no time "thanks for walking me home sae...see you" he turned his gaze away "see you.." when he was sure you were safe inside, he started walking back to his home...
You slid down against your door, smiling to yourself, god, you were so happy. Letting out all your joy, you got up. Heading directly to bed, you had an important match tomorrow, you'd text sae tomorrow to ask him if he wanted to go see your match. You got in some more comfortable clothes, letting yourself fall on your bed.
Next morning
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You smiled at your phone and out your plate in the sink, carefully washing it while humming to yourself. Gently tapping your foot, you were already in your volleyball jersey and a volleyball was resting close to your backdoor. Your parents were barely home these days, so you almost had to the house to yourself. As you kept washing your dishes, a knock at your front door was heard and you frowned. Who could it be this early ? You swiftly dried your hands and walked over to the door, when you opened, at your surprise, you found Sae, in some casual clothings. "Sae ? Come in, come in" you opened the door further you let him in and he walked in, staying on the entrance mat. "What are you doing here ?" You simply asked, a look of confusion clear on your face "your match.." he answered and you immediately understood. "Oooh. You didn't need to come join me but nevermind that, come take a seat, just remove your shoes please" yet he stayed there on the mat, hands in his pocket "you look ready" "yes, but my match is in an hour, the gym is nearby" sae kept his neutral expression "you should get there early" you stopped your walk back to the kitchen and sighed, snatching your volleyball and backpack, everything already in it. Well, that was except for your keys, so you snatched them from the countertop, opening the front door and sae got out behind you. You closed the door and locked it, putting away your keys and started walking to the location. Sae followed, taking the toad side, matching your pace, the walk was a comfortable silence. It didn't long, maybe fifteen minutes and you both had already arrived. You showed him the way to the audience and he nodded while you headed towards your coach that had also, recently arrived. You discussed with her for a bit before starting off with the stretches. Soon enough the other and your oen had arrived, as for Sae, he was sat in the audience, observing from time to time. You both had arrived early so it was expected to have some waiting. Half an hour after both teams had arrived, captains shook hands and your team started with the serve. Sae now observed carefully, his eyes set on you, as you stood a few steps behind the line, the ref signaled the start and you threw the ball, jumping for a decent jump float. The other team easily picked it up, sending to the setter and second tempo attack was performed from their wing spiker. An attack which was picked up by your team's libero, sent to your setter and it was a high set, to give you some time as you performed a back row attack. That was the first point of the game and the sound of volleyballs hitting the floor one after another was heard for at least the next two hours. It was a very tight score at the end but you had won 2-1, you celebrated a bit with your teams but you looked up at the audience, smiling at Sae, had you looked more carefully, you could have seen the hint of a smile on his face.
About thirty minutes later
You stretched your arms and smiled at Sae as you both walked back, you with a drink in hand. You had stopped by a cafe "gaah! I'm so glad of this match's outcome!" He glanced towards you whispering 'you did good' and you turned your head towards him "mhm? Did you say something?" "No" he answered dryly "dry much" you commented which earned you a slight eye roll. You chuckled and shook your head "i'm glad you came" you simply said, expressing your gratitude to him. Honestly, you didn't think things would go so well, he nodded and kept up his quiet persona. You let out a small sigh and looked up at the sky, it was around noon or so. "I hope we'll have a next outing soon! Feel free to invite me whenever!" You said excitedly to which he smiled internally, what ? Did you think the sae would physically smile at you for that? But, he gave you a nod nonetheless. As you both reached your home, he waved you goodbye as you headed back inside.
A month later
Ever since then, you and sae had talked through text sometimes but never went out, you wanted him to ask you out this time, which was very irrealistic of you but oh well. A girl could dream right?! But you occupied yourself with some romance book, comfortably layed on your couch and enjoying a drink. What else did you have to do ? Nothing, but romance books are life so it's fine. Suddenly a bing! Caught your attention, you picked your phone.
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You squealed a little and hugged your phone tight, spinning in circles "it happened!!" You sprinted upstairs to get changed into some pale jeans shorts and warm red knitted sweater. No need for makeup this time, you still had about 2-3 hours to pass though, so you kept reading your book and the time passed like lighting. As the doorbell rang you swiftly got up to answer and there he was, standing in some casual sweater and black jeans. It wasn't overboard, just to be comfortable. You greeted him and smiled at him, which he didn't return at all, but worth the short. You walked out and Locked your door, starting to walk with him. Apart from the casual small talk like hello, how are you, there were not many words exchanged and maybe it was better that way. Sae was a man of very few words and you were quite comfortable observing the sakura trees in the park. So you both kept on walking until you reached the fountain in the middle of the park, there no people around...perfect. a surprisingly gentle touch reached out in your hair, only to pinch a small petal that had fallen in it, tossing it aside. You looked towards sae with curious eyes and a smile, his body was facing yours, there was no tension only untold feelings. The kind of feelings that went infinitely deep into both of your hearts. His hand hesitated to reach out towards yours, but he clenched his fist, contenting himself with being able to see the happiness in your eyes, the happiness he wish he could have. "Thanks" your voice snapped him out of his trance and nodded with a small hum, guiding you to start walking back to which you agreed, still walking alongside eachother silently, yet this time...it felt more..intimate ? It was a tough feeling to describe. You looked up at the sky, still that gentle smile gracing your lips and as the minutes passed, the exit to the park got closer and closer. The outing coming to an end, as you prepared to depart back home, a voice called out to you "y/n" you stopped and looked back towards Sae, specifically right in his eyes, you noticed the very subtle signs of nervousness coming from him. "I..." His voice came out a little stranded, he was hesitating. You fully faced him and he took a few steps towards you, his hand still hesitating to reach out for yours "i love you..." Your eyes widened and a slight blush crept on your cheeks, you looked right back at him, while to others he might have seemed unbothered and a tiny bit arrogant. In your eyes, he was genuine, nervous and especially, in love. "Sae....i-" you wuck in a sharp breath as you felt his hand on yours and the other on your cheek. He was close and he seemed impatient, waiting for an answer..."i love you too..." You felt the tension in his hold immediately released and it became more gentle than ever. He silently asked for you permission and as you slid your hands on his shoulder, he tilted his head a bit and leaned forward. It felt like an eternity before your lios connected in one gentle and light kiss. But it felt so passionate too, your hands soon enough found themselves on his nape and your lips separated. Both of your gaze locked in eachother, alone to the world but one last sentence left his lips
"how long has it been since i've wanted this..."
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robin-the-enby · 10 months
Note
Hello! I was wondering if you could do a Markus(DBH) x Reader where she is the S/O of Leo Manfred, but the relationship is definitely not a happy one. Like he insults her and pushes her around all the time.
If that is triggering please ignore this request! Hope you have a lovely day! :)
You can think that you're in love, when you're really just in pain...
Pairing: Marcus x f!reader
Warnings: use of Y/N and she/her pronouns, female reader (appearance is not discussed or mentioned), swearing, mentions of psychological and physical abuse, Leo is a gaslighter, I guess that' it
A/N: OMG, I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! Will you ever forgive me? 😭 But I took my time with this piece (and honestly might have gone a bit overboad) and while it did suck the soul out of me, I am very proud f it and hope you will like it. I made the reader female in the end, but the appearance of the reader is never mentioned, she is only reffered to with she/her pronouns, so I hope that's not a problem. If yes, I'll make sure to change it ;)
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By now, you knew these streets by heart, that's how often you visited Carl Manfred. The old artist liked to joke that you were his in-law, given that you were his son's spouse. This wasn't the only reason however, because Carl also thought you were a kind and gentle soul and he really hoped that Leo saw that and tried to better himself in life, if not for himself, then for you at least.
Carl only talked well about his son, preferring to think about the god times instead of where exactly it went wrong and whose fault it might have been. But your presence was calming and very much enjoyable. He did have Marcus to run errands for him and take care of him, but you offering your helping hand gave him the feeling that he oh so lacked - his family taking care of him, now that he couldn't do it very well himself.
Even though you and Leo weren't married or even engaged, the old artist still considered you family. After all, you have been with Leo for a few years now, the thought of you leaving from his and Marcus' lives was strange and one Carl did not like to think about. Although...
Sometimes, when the house got quiet, when Marcus was fetching some paints or doing other errands in town, Carl would think. To be fair, he didn't know what you saw in Leo, even though he'd never admit that. He knew that opposites often attracted, and he really did hope your love would help Leo, whenever he'd ask you how his son was doing, no matter what mood you were in, it instantly changed. Something in your eyes...shifted. You looked tired, somehow older in those times, and he could see there was a heavy burden weighing you down. When it came to talking about Leo, you stuck to the basics. "He's doing fine." you'd say with a smile. But whenever Carl would ask hopefully "Has he found a job yet?" or "Is he...clean now?" you found that you could not answer. You didn't want to worry the old man, but it felt wrong to lie to him either. So you just hung your head low and admit quietly that no, he doesn't have a job and no...he isn't clean. You tried to lighten up the mood by saying he's looking for a job, which wasn't really a lie, at least, Leo insisted that he's looking for employment any time you'd bring that topic up, but you suspected Carl had stopped believing you at some point, although he never said so.
Today, you were once again visiting the old man and his android. It was strange to think that Marcus wasn't human. Every time you interacted with him, you almost forgot about it, enjoying his presence around you that much. Marcus was...serene. He wasn't loud, he wasn't crass and he was always kind. To everyone. Even if it created more trouble for him. Sometimes you wished you didn't have to leave. That you could stay with them. You were pretty sure Carl would be more than happy to let you stay, wishing for the company of his loved ones, even if he never said it, and Marcus...well...Marcus would be happy if Carl was happy. If you could call it happiness. It was strange to imagine that Marcus has never experienced any emotions at all. It made you a little sad. But the fact that he didn't know what emotions were and so he couldn't be aware of the fact he's missing something made you feel a little better. Although sometimes...sometimes it felt like Marcus was...different. Many a time have you seen him just...space out. You could see the, probably very much real, cogs in his head turn as he processed...something. But what that something was? You weren't sure.
Pulling your car into the driveway of the Manfred residence, you didn't even attempt to fight the stretch and the deep breath you took. It felt so freeing to be here, far away from...well, home. And the air was so clean and fresh, too! You could spend the whole afternoon sitting in the garden, just breathing. Carl sure did have taste when he picked out this place to live out the rest of his life at. It was calm, mostly quiet and smelled so, so good. Most people don't realise how amazing fresh air is until they taste it with their lungs, you thought to yourself. But even as you were here, your mind couldn't stop comparing everything to how it was at home. The yelling outside and inside. The constant sense of unease. The constant suffy air that wouldn't get out of your apartment, no matter how long you left the windows open. And you knew you had to come back. This place, as nice as it was, was just a break. A small oasis that would fill you up with strength until your next visit. But your reality was out there. In the downtown Detroit, in the tiny apartment you were renting.
Maybe if Leo admitted that he has issues and put his pride aside just once, you wouldn't have to take up so many shifts. You could actually like your job. You could do so much more than to just keep the both of you alive. Maybe you could have a bit of peace. But you doubted that. No matter how hard you tried, how much you did for the both of you, it seemed to never be enough. You took up extra shifts to treat the both of you to some nice meal? The apartment wasn't clean enough. You deep cleaned the apartment? You didn't cook dinner. You didn't have money to lend him? He didn't believe you, unless you showed him. And god forbid you asked him what he needed it for. Or if you complained.
Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you made your way to the front door. Yes, reality wasn't...perfect, but you wouldn't let it ruin this moment for you. Or, at least, you would try. As you were about to raise your hand to ring the doorbell, a figure appeared from behind the corner, abruptly stopping at the sight of you. You whip your head around, startled a little at the stranger's sudden appearance. But, as your eyes focused on the person, you recognised Marcus. His intense eyes that never made you feel unsafe, his short hair, which you weren't even sure was real, you thought briefly, and his firm build...
"Oh, (Y/N)! I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you..." Marcus apolgised with a very sincere feeling smile. You chuckled slightly at your reaction "Oh hello, Marcus. It's alright, you just startled me, that's all." Marcus was quiet for a moment, and judging by the intensity of his gaze, you assumed he was assessing your vitals to ensure you really were alright. At first, the intensity with which he looked at you sometimes unnerved you, but when he explained it was just to make sure you were physically and mentally alright, you relaxed. It was handy to have someone that could tell you something was wrong with just one look, something you yourself might not have even noticed.
"Carl noticed your car, so he instructed me to tell you that we're in the garden." Your mouth made an "o" shape in silent understandment as you nodded and followed Marcus around the house. The short walk was silent, but comfortable. Soon you could see Carl relaxing in his wheelchair in the sun, looking as content as can be. You couldn't help the smile that bloomed on your face at seeing him. You've come to learn that this place, these people, were your safe place. You felt free here, not judged, not scrutinised. Nobody expected anything from you here and everything you did for Carl or for Marcus was met with appreciation.
Carl turned around at the sight of your footsteps on the small stone path and his face lit up "(Y/N)!" he exclaimed, opening his arms for a hug. You hugged him shortly and greeted the artist. "It's so good to see you! Come, come, sit down, let's have a chat!" he urged you as he moved towards a wooden bench overlooking the various flowers and bushes in the garden. From what you knew, Marcus not only took care of the old man, but the house, and by default the garden, as well. And if that was true, then he did an amazing job. The colours of all the petals were radiant and fresh, bees buzzing around happilly. It was a lovely sight. Sitting down, you made yourself comfortable. Carl stopped in front of you in a way that he could comfortably talk to you, but let you enjoy the sight as well. Something was telling him you needed it.
"Marcus, could you get us some drinks please?" he asked his android assistant gently. You always admired how Carl treated Marcus with such respect and care, as if he was a real person. All the time, you were met with people abusing their androids, seeing them as things to care for their every need, including receiving their master's anger. And although it felt obvious that one should treat their helpers respectfully, it was still a nice change. Another perk of spending time here. Marcus nodded with a small smile, asking Carl what he would like. "Some tea would be nice." Carl replied and Marcus turned to you. For some reason, you felt your face warm up slightly and you looked away from his enchanting eyes. Your mind ran a million miles per minute, trying to come up with something that wouldn't troube him too much. "Uhm, just some lemonade, please." you stammered after a second. Marcus nodded, never mentioning your stutter or pointing out your awkward behaviour.
When the android disappeared from view, Carl looked towards you "So, how is everything?" he asked, smiling. You never liked to answer that qestion, No answer felt right unless you went into detail, but you didn't want to burden him with all that. So you did the thing people usually do, you smiled and waved your hand dismissively "Ooh, you know. Everything is the same. Nothing interesting happening in my life." Carl nodded, but you were sure that being the perceptive person he is, he could see right through you. So he nodded without pressing the issue, and instead decided to press another one. "And how's Leo?"
It was as if that protective curtain around your happy place opened and you were exposed to the harsh light of reality. As if on autopilot, you hung your head slightly, the idea of looking into the old man's eyes suddenly uncomfortable. You chuckled awkwardly and shrugged "Yea, Leo's...Leo's good." you said, but your voice was small, void of the confidence and cheeriness it once posessed. Truth was, you haven't seen Leo in two days. He has been ignoring your calls as well as your texts. On one hand, you were worried about where he was, what he was doing and with who. But on the other...You were relieved. Your home is finally quiet, you don't wake up in the middle of the night to unexpected company coming over, because Leo invited them for a red ice party. You feel bad for feeling good when your partner is missing, but at the same time you can't help but enjoy it.
Sometimes fate has a strange way of playing with our lives. And it seems that in your case, Carl chose this day to finally choose the uncomfortable topic and interrogate you. "(Y/N), what's wrong?" the artist asked softly and you wondered when exactly has this became an intervention. "Nothing's wrong, work has just been tiring." Not a lie, but not a complete truth either. For some reason, you felt ashamed to admit to Carl how has Leo been treating you. You knew it wasn't right, but you also weren't someone who'd let others just push them around, and you knew Carl knew that. And maybe that's why you didn't want to tell him. Besides, how do you tell someone that their child is a toxic abuser?
"Cut it out (Y/N), I know something's wrong. Now, I know Leo doesn't have a job and that he's still on that...thing." Carl said the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth "But I feel like there are things you haven't been telling me." The worst thing about this conversation wasn't the fact Carl knew you were lying to him, it was the way he was so nice about it. You felt like this whole thing was wrong, for some reason you felt like he should have been mad at you, should have been asking why you were so stupid as to staying with his stupid son, who everyone knew was a scumbag. You sure felt stupid. And yet... "You know I wouldn't do that." you smiled at him while racking your brain for an exit out of this conversation. "Hey, Marcus has been gone for quite a while, huh? I'll go help him out a bit." you didn't wait for an answer, already standing up and heading to the backdoor. Carl turned around to look after you and from behind you, you could hear him call out, cheekiness masking his worry "I may be old, but I'm not senile!"
Stepping into the house was like teleporting to another world. While the garden was full of colours and bustling life, the house was quiet and the brown hues of the furniture and decorations almost made it feel sleepy. But it let a lot of light through its big windows and it didn't feel heavy or suffocating. The worst you could say about it was that it felt serious, but glancing at the life sized giraffe taxidermy in the living room disproved even that claim.
Following the soft clacking of mugs and the conistent hum of the kettle, you made your way to the kitchen. Marcus was standing at the counter, preparing Carl's tea, your lemonade already done on a small tray on the table. His broad shoulders moved uder his uniform and you found the movement...mesmerising. And while observing Marcus quietly was quite normal for you, as creepy as that sounds, this was the first time you felt as if your...affection, towards the android might not be as platonic as would be appropriate. You were taken for pete's sake, you couldn't be fantasising about another man like that! But, you reasoned for yourself what was the harm? It wasn't like Leo was here and even if he was, he'd probably pay little mind to you. You would be surprised if he could even stand still for more than half a minute.
"I know you're there, (Y/N)." you heard Marcus chuckle, successfully bringing you out of your thoughts. You realised that during your internal argument, you have leaned against the doorframe and probably was watching him like a creep the whole time. Great. "Heh. Somehow, that does not surprise me." you chuckle in return, hoping to brush off your inadequate behavior. Marcus' shoulders shake in silent giggles as he looked behind his shoulder at your drink "Your lemonade is done. Do you want to drink it outside with Carl?" he asks and you shake your head. "It's okay, I'll stay here for a while, but I'll join you two afterwards." you explain, hoping he doesn't push the matter. But it seemed that luck was not on your side that day.
"Did Carl's questions about Leo tire you out?" Marcus tried to joke, but he quickly realised he must've brought up a sensitive subject at your lack of a positive reaction. You just hung your head, as you were used to when talking about your boyfriend and smiled, although the expression held very little joy. "Yeah...sort of." you said quietly and sipped on your lemonade. Your brows scrunched together and you odded a little "Hy, this is some really good lemonade!" you commented, hoping to divert the conversation once more. Marcus thanked you and finished with Carl's tea. Then, he wordlessly picked up the tray and went outside to give it to the man.
He was gone for quite some time, that you almost thought that you would really be left alone, even though you didn't know whether that was what you wanted anymore. But it seemed that Marcus was more in tune with your emotions than you would've guessed for an android. He quietly sat down next to you and after a bit of silence, during which he probably ran through all the things he could've said, he finally spoke up. "Why Leo?" Yo had to say that it was the last question you expected, although, you didn't really know what you were expecting.
Sighing, you shrugged "I don't know...anymore." you added after a second, deciding that if you were to tell someone about your troubles, it would be Marcus. Would he tell Carl? If he asked, which you know he would, then the android would tell the artist everything. But hey, at least you didn't have to do it yourself. "Anymore?" Marcus asked quietly and you felt those gorgeous eyes trained on your face as if it was the only thing he could see. You nodded "Yeah...I guess- I guess he wasn't that bad at the start." you shrugged, the memories of him showering you with sweet words and gifts that weren't expensive, but that much more meaningful, almost gone from your brain. "And then I found out about the drugs and I thought-" you took a sharp breath in, already feeling the familiar pressure behind your eyes "I thought, he loves me, I'll be there for him and help him get through it. But he never got better. And when he blamed everything on the drugs, or on the withdrawals I believed him, because...Well, because I never thought I'd end up in that kind of situation, you know?" you chuckled, the noise laced with self deprecation.
You felt his hand land on your arm gently. A fleeting thought of how warm his hand was crossed your mind, before you heard him speak "It's not your fault." You quickly nodded "I know, I know, but it doesn't feel like it, you know? From a young age, we are warned of the signs of abuse in relationships, so how could I have ended up in one?" you sighed "I just feel...stupid." Your shoulders sagged and you slumped a little in your chair, as if a tremendous weight was lifted from your chest.
Even though Marcus was already lookng at you, you somehow felt his gaze sharpen "Is he..." he breathed out and it looked like he didn't know how to phrase what he wanted to say, which made a weird feeling spill throughout your gut, because it was strange, almost unsettling to see the lovely android, who is always so composed, at a loss for words. "Does he hurt you?" "No, no!" you were quick to assure him and you could see his shoulders droop as he relaxed his posture slightly. "He can be a bit rough, but-" you shook your ead again "it's no a big deal."
"What do you mean, rough?" Marcus presed on, his tone still as gentle as if you were a scared animal that could run away if he made one wrong move and yet, his eyes never left yours and when you looked at him, looked at those beautiful eyes that you were sure could count as a piece of art, there was...emotion behind them. You were sure of it. You've lived around androids for the better part of your life and you knew how they looked, even when they were assisting someone. Never ever have you seen such intensity behind synthetic eyes. And yet, you almost felt...relieved. You cleared your throat "Oh it' uh, it's ot a big deal..." you tried to reassure him once again (or maybe you were trying to convince yourself it hasn't gone that far, that hope and love haven't blinded you towards physical abuse as well) "Just sometimes when we fight, he grabs me a bit too roughly. It usually doesn't even leave a mark." you shrugged, but as you were saying it, you realised how horrible it sounded. So you stopped yourself before you'd dive into explaining how sometimes it was not just grabbing but shoves and pushes that you'd endure from Leo when you were too uncooperative for his liking.
You turn to face Marcus again and he looks a you with such sadness it almost feels like it was him who went through thaat. It wasn't just pity, the kind of look the pharmacist would shoot you every time you'd come for that one cream to help soothe your skin after a rough argument with Leo. But no, Marcus seemed...almost heartbroken, the kind of heartbroken a child is when their beloved pet dies.
"You don't have to put up with it you know?" Marcus asked gently, although it felt more like a reminder "You only have to say a word and I'm sure Carl would have nothing against-" you stopped Marcus' rant by putting a hand on his chest "I know, I know," you said nodding "but I don't want to bring Carl into this. He shouldn't have to put up with whatever mess Leo gets into, let alone my problems."
"It's ok to ask for help." he put his hand over yours that was on his chest, caressing yor skin lightly with his thumb. Your eyes were immediately drawn to his and on yours, the contact making your cheeks heat up as you mentally cursed yourself. "I know, but..." you trailed off "I just feel like...if I got into this mess, I have to get out of it. I don't want to-" you groan "I guess I don't want to give him the satisfaction of having that complete control over me. I know it sounds stupid-" you went to pull away, feeling the hot shame flow over you, making you want to cringe away from your robot friend. But Marcus only queezed your hand and tugged you closer to him. "It's not stupid. And there's no need to be embarassed." he reassured you and you shot him a quick smile, which he reciprocated, before you continued "So yeah, I guess that's why I never...said anything. Besides, he's not always like this. Sometimes he wakes up and is the textbook version of a doting boyfriend. I guess...I guess it made me hope that something could be done, that if I try hard enough, he'll see what he's doig and we can ge through it together." you chuckled sadly and this time, Marcus hugged you.
At first, you went stiff as a board, not expecting such a gesture from him, after all, Marcus has never been very touchy, since he wasn't programmed for that, but by now you were suspecting that Marcus could do more than what he was programmed to do, even if you didn't understand how that worked. Gradually, you relaxed into the hug, letting your arms gently wrap around his neck as his were wrapped around your waist. You let your head rest on Marcus' chest and as you breathed in, you caught the smell of his clean clothes. The warmth rdiating from his body was also something you couldn't complain about. You stayed like this for what must have been minutes, before you felt the android shift. Thining he was done with the hug, you went to let go of him, but his arms only tightened around you. You looked up at him only to find him already looking down at you, his eyes portraying some sort of inner conflict.
Just as he was about to voice whatever was on his mind, you registered hurried footsteps as well as rushed sentences beig exchanged, and not in a positive manner. Both you and Marcus let go of each other just in time before Leo rushed through the dooray, visibly seething, with a worried Carl on his heels.
"I told you dad, I just want to talk to her, so either you tell me where she is, or-" he stops mid sentence when he sees you and Marcus in the kitchen. He looks disheveled, his hair tussled, his clothes wrinkled, he looked sweaty and the whites of his eyes were very red, no to mention his pupils, which were way out of proportion. For a while, he just looked beween you and Marcus, his gaze jumping from one to the other, before he nodded and chuckled throwing up his hands "Well isn't this just great. I come home to no girlfriend, no car, no food and when I finally find her, she's all over a fucking robot." he sneers first at you, then at Marcus. Leo takes a few steps towards you, extending his hand as if to grab yours and you can't help but back away out of habit. Leo, of course, notices this and chuckles awkwardly "C'mon babe, we're going, the taxi won't pay itself." he says it as if he was lightheartedly joking, but the tension in his voice as well as his body gives away his real emotions.
And for some reason, something inside you...switches. You've had enough. Enough of not being appreciated, enough of being ordered and pushed around, when you deserved something, someone much better. Someone who would hold you tenderly, who would smell like fresh clothes, who would be warm and lovely, who could at least take care of himself.
"I'm not going anywhere." you said calmly, shaking your head. Leo looked at you like you just grew another head "Sorry?" And you gladly repeated yourself, adding "Maybe if I would've known where the hell you've been for the last two days, I would have waited for you. But I guess I'm not worth picking up the phone for. That is, if you even have it." you allowed yourslf to release the frutration that's been building up inside you for god knows how long now. Carl's eyes were wide, shocked fromhearing all this new information about your relationship with his son.
"Babe, you know I was busy-" Leo tried, but you were having one of it "Yeah, I see how busy you are. Couldn't you at least wait until you sobered up till you came here?" you scoffed. Leo narrowed his eyes at you and growled lowly "Listen, we can talk this through at home, no need to make a scene." And you actually laughed, catching all three men present slightly off guard "Cause a scene? You roled up here in a taxi, which you expect me to pay for, because no way you have any money on you after wherever you've been, you barged in like a hurricane and demanded to see me, and why? Just because I dared to drive somewhere? The ca is the only thing you have to your name, you live in my aparment, off of my and your dad's money, which you still send on useless shit. You don't help me out with anything, whatever I do is not enough, even though last time you actually put any effort into our relationship was years ago, so when I decide to take a break and visit a place I actually feel welcome at, it's still somehow my fault."
Maybe if it weren't for the fact that your soon to be ex boyfriend's face was getting redder with your every word, you could actully focus on the weight being lifted from your soul after that monologue. But Leo didn't look just mad, but insane. A small part of you started regretting your words, but feeling Marcus' and Carl's presence slightly calm you down. Still, when he took another step towards you,your body tensed up and you took an instinctive step towards Macus, trusting him to intervene if something went wrong. And given how your stomach squeezed uncomfortably, the situatio was more than likely heading that way.
But Leo, of course, noticed this "Bullshit." he spat out "I try, so fucking hard to please you, to be enough for you. Every day, all I think about is you. So sometimes, I need something to help me relax. But none of you," he turned around to direct his words not only to you, but his father as well "none of you get that. You all just bring me down." at this point, Leo was borderline yelling and you tried to stop your body from shaking, out of fear or adrealine, you didn't know. "I was worried, have you thought about that?" he focused on you again"I was worried where you were, what happened. So I looked for you. And when I finally found you, my fucking girlfriend, what do I see?"he turns his attention to Marcus now, both of the men staring deep into each other's eyes "I found you all over this fucking piee of plastic." he growled with disdain "I have no idea what you and dad see in these monstrosities-" he would continue, if it wasn't for Carl jumping in "Leo, that's enough!" the old man said sternly, even though you knew very well how much it pained him. As Leo was turning around to face is father, Marcus grabbed his shoulder firmly "Perhaps you should leave." he said, keeping his voice calm, although you knew that he was anything but calm. You never noticed how expressive Marcus' eyes were until today...
"Not without her I'm not!" Leo jerked away from the android's hold, turning to face you again, bringing you out of your thoughts. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere." you said, suddenly more tired than anything "I'll pay for your fucking taxi, but it's the last time I ever want to see you." you offered, just wanting him to be gone already. You knew you didn't have to do it and that it would probably be wiser to not do it, but you just wanted him out of everyone's hair. At least for today. Carl sure didn't need this day to be more stressful than it already was.
Surprisingly, Leo huffed "Fine." and you pulled some money out of your wallet and handed it to him. And with that, he turned on his heel, muttering "Fucking bitch..." as he walked out, making Carl almost scold him again, but you placed your hand on his shoulder as a sign to let him go.
After that exchange, the tension disappeared from the room, until Carl moved to the table and you sat next to him, Marcus standing by Carl's side. For a while, none of you said a word, until he old artist sighed "I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know it was that bad." he muttered apologetically and you shook your head "It's ok, you couldn't have known." and after that, you had a very long conversation with Carl about you, Leo and everything that has been going on with him. Some of it he knew, most of it he didn't. You went through many different emotions during that conversation. Frustration, anger, but mostly relief. It was finally over. When the tears started maing their way down your face, you felt Marcus' hand gently squeeze your shoulder and you grabbed it with a sniffle, intertwining your fingers to ground yourself. You felt Carl's eyes follow your every move during that interaction, but you didn't look at him.
Finally, after the tears had mostly dried, the old man sighed "I think...I think I need to lie down." he said quietly and you almost apologised. Almost. Mrcus let go of your shoulder to help him, leaving you alone. After they disappeared up the stairs, you stood up and went into the small bathroom on the ground floor, to wash your face, now sticky from all the tears you've shed, but also to get your mind together. You knew you would have to leave at one point, but you really didn't want to go to your apartment. And definitely not alone. After all, Leo still had the keys. Changing the locks would be a pain, as well as making sure he won't try to pull some other shit in the ext few weeks, maybe even months. You knew that there was a chance he would leave you alone, but something was telling you it would not be so easy. Not with Leo. You sighed and returned to the kitchen, only to find Marcus already there, waiting for you.
"Would you like a cup of tea? There's an herbal mix that should help you calm down." he asked you so gently you thought you would start crying again. Instead you just sniffled and ndded with a thsnkful smile "That would be lovely, thank you." As Marcus started preparing the tea, you found yourself sanding awkwardly a few steps away from him, leaning against the counter. It felt wrong to just sit down. You didn't even know what to do with your eyes, or what to say, but luckilly Marcus beat you to it "Carl said to tell you that you should stay here tonight. Unless you don't want to of course." he informed you as gently as before. "No, that would actually be very nice, thank you." you said, relieved "I'll nee to bring some take out for him as a thank you." you said, knowing very well the artist liked some junk food every once in a while, despite his doctor's protests, as a treat. "You don't have to do that." Macus turned to you, while carefully filling up your cup with the hot water. You shook your head and closing your eyes with a sigh "It's only right, after what happened today."
Suddenly, you feel a presence right in front of you and you open your eyes to fid Marcus right in front of you. He leans forward, resting his hands on the counter on either side of your body, looking deeply into your eyes "You may feel like it, but none of this is your fault. You didn't deserve the way he treated you and you're not stupid, or a failure for getting tangled up in that." he said quietly, but firmly enough to let you know you should better get it through your thick head sooner than later. You gulped as you got lost in his mesmerising eyes that told you how sure he was of what he has just told you. And suddenly, your hands found their way to his chest, catching the android slightly by surprise. His eyes seemed to pull you in, until you realised that your faces actually were getting closer, both of you leaning towards each other, none of you brave enough to clos the gap entirely.
You saw something in Marcus's eyes shift and he exhaled, lowering his head unti it was resing on your shoulder. You almost automatically wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close. "I'm sorry, I..." he started, but agai, didn't quite know how to continue "This is all very new to me, but... something is telling me I- we should wait." he confesses, chosing to bluntly say what he was feeling, probaby figuring out you knew he gained the ability to feel and that he definitely felt something for you. He could feel you nod next to his head "Yeah, that's...that's probably for the best." you pulled away slightly, and he could sense that your body temperature rose slightly, especially in your face "But in the future...I would really like to try again...I think." you said bashfully and Marcus couldn't help the smile growing across his face.
Sure, you had a long journey of healing and finding yourself ahead of you. And inevitably, he would have to talk to Carl about his deviation, but as long as he could figure out his newly gained sentience alongside you and help you flourish again and find that spark that had almost been snuffed out of you, he could wait for eternity.
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shiny-jr · 5 months
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So what was the process like for creating the MC's personality in damantion au? Like how similar they are to their counterparts
how close they are to the version of the characters in the film they are based on.
I assume you're asking this for each MC thus far? Since I won't reveal too much on the last two MC's yet. So, this'll probably be a long post, or not, as there isn't a lot about the MC's that hasn't already been said.
King!MC. The very first MC I developed for the damnation series. In fact, I thought of this MC before I even knew damnation would become a pretty long series. They were the first, they came before the majority of the plot and all. At that point, all I knew was I want an MC that acts like the king, and screws things up. And thus, King!MC was born. I mainly drew inspiration from the animated version of the King of Hearts, however, the fate the MC knew awaited them was inspired by what had happened to the King of Hearts in the live-action version. I would say that of the MCs thus far, they are the most like their counterpart. Although the King of Hearts is not a major character in the animated film and only appears for brief moments, those few seconds give the little guy a lot of personality, which I drew from and then some. Really, I just wanted someone kinda pathetic with Riddle.
Chief!MC. Before I even began writing for them, my main goal for them was to be the epitome of girlboss, boyboss(?), theyboss(?). Basically I wanted them to be badass, a mature figure but still with a bit of a temper or snark at certain times. Someone that could stand toe-to-toe with Leona when he's being cunning. Like the previous MC, here I had the privilege of having two sources, the animated one and the live-action version. In the animated version, Shenzi is more humorous at times but in the live-action, she's much more serious, so I used both. I thought I'd used their point of view to portray a different perspective of the Lion King story, and use Chief!MC's traits and desire to survive push the plot forward but eventually make mistakes due to being a bit rash at times.
Diviner!MC. Ah yes, the first difficult MC. For them, I had to think a while. I was stuck thinking, just where exactly I could assign their role since there was essentially no role for them. For a short time, I entertained the thought of a possible apprentice under Azul, but in the end I opted against the idea as that would make it difficult for MC to reason why they would want to leave and it would make things more complicated with the whole legs and fins, air and water, thing which was hard enough to write for. Diviner!MC is loosely inspired by Vanessa, the identity taken up by Ursula. I say loosely, because yes, while they did take over seducing the love interest, they also changed things. There were a lot of changes I had to make in order for this new role to work, such as the protagonist also being seduced. Really, it just made a whole mess and it was not fun. Ultimately, not an MC I'm proud of, but they're there. I figured someone suave and confident was needed for the role, not only to be distinct from the meek King!MC and assertive Chief!MC, but also to be on par with Azul.
Anyways, that's a lot so I'll leave that there for now. Let me know if you wanted to hear about Vassal!MC and Retainer!MC, and I'll answer that in a separate post.
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jtl-fics · 11 months
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Fluent Freshman - Part 43
PREV
FF is a pretty good student. Solid Bs in his Gen-eds and As in regard to his major. With one C+ that he’s still working on with Captain Neil but it’s higher than the D+ that he had been pulling before Captain Neil had started to tutor him and he really just needs to pass the one gen-ed required math class.
There was many a deep breathing exercise before he made an appointment with his educational advisor for the next semester back in October but it hadn’t been that bad even though she was the one that had asked if he knew anyone good at math since it obviously was not a strong suit of his. So he dragged his grade up from a D+ to a C+ and he was pretty proud of that.
FF has a preferred spot in each and every one of his classrooms. In his Gen-Ed courses he sits in spots that the Professors don’t even notice and where there is almost always a gap between him and the next person. He arrives perfectly almost late every single day for every single class he can to achieve this feat.
For his Major classes he sits near the front with the few Foreign Language major friends that he has.
FF likes to be prepared. Studying was a nice way to prepare for the future. If he’s already read the entire textbook front to back and taken notes then a pop quiz can’t catch him off guard. He double, triple, and quadruple checks homework. He could probably recite the syllabus for any of his classes off the top of his head. He has read it so much to make sure he’s gotten everything and is on track.
FF kind of likes finals week.
For once, for one week, everyone is as anxious as him.
He sits next to Nicky patting his back as his friend sobs into a pillow. “I’m not going to graduate and it’s going to delay seeing Erik by an entire year!” Nicky yells as he brings his face out of the pillow.
“Nicky, you only got one flashcard wrong how about you shut the fuck up!” Aaron yells from his desk where he seems to have spontaneously developed ambidextrousness as he writes notes with both hands. “Fuck I am NEVER fitting all of this one one index card.” Aaron slams his face into the table.
“I don’t even need this degree.” Matt says looking down at a textbook that he has not turned a page on for the last hour. The fact that Matt had also not even opened that textbook before now was a bit of a cause for concern. “I’ve already got offers for professional teams. I can just play Exy. I do not need to pass a workplace psychology course.” Matt says.
“You think Dan wants an idiot?!” Nicky demands not wanting to go down alone.
“She thinks it’s cute that I’m stupid!” Matt exclaims.
“No she doesn’t!” Aaron points at him, “She said and I quote ‘I love it when you use that big ol sexy brain of yours.’ the last time you had her on speaker phone!” he uses a slightly more…effeminate voice when he impersonates Dan but FF had spoken with Dan and to his memory she did not sound like that.
“Fuck you’re right she deserves an all rounder!” Matt cries, head in his hands.
“Why do I even have to TAKE this Gen-Ed about history?” Nicky demands now holding onto FF as if he were a teddy bear.
“So that we’re well-rounded individuals with a wider perspective on-”
“Smithy, my sweet child, I was not looking for an answer.” he feels Nicky’s hand come up to his hair and maybe he’s being treated more like a favored pet?
“You’re having trouble with a Gen-Ed?!” Aaron asks turning around in his seat, “That’s embarrassing.” he turns his nose up.
“I’m having trouble with something that is going to be useless in my adult life.” Nicky says as if he were not currently an adult. “You are having issues with a class that will have huge ramifications on your future if you don’t manage to learn it!” Nicky points out.
“Eat my shorts Nicky.” Aaron hisses.
“Maybe I could study if you would wash your shorts Aaron. I can smell your laundry pile from over here!” Matt spits.
The fight devolved from there and FF slipped out of the dorm as Nicky was holding a chair over his head to seemingly throw at Matt for his ‘unreasonable number of sticky notes messing up the flow of Nicky’s studying’.
He heard a crash.
“It’s probably fine.” he says to himself and he has his index cards with the speech he has to give for and he really should go over to talk with Captain Neil.
He walks to Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door and- “There faster-!”
FF walks away from Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door, remembering only in this moment that Kevin had declared that he would be “Living in the library until this paper is done or I am.” to the team at the last practice of the year.
Captain Neil and Andrew were never the type to waste an empty dorm room.
He misses Pepto Bismol as he hears a particularly dirty line of Russian coming from his Captain’s dorm room.
***
Eventually Finals week is done and dusted with only 4-5 more blow-ups in his dorm room that result in Nicky, Aaron, and Matt stopping their fight to see if they accidentally had knocked him out with all of the thrown debris (only happened once when Aaron threw a textbook that Nicky ducked but he didn’t.)
FF came out of his final…final feeling pretty good all around. He had managed to get some extra tutoring time with Captain Neil after Kevin managed to finish his history paper a little early. Despite all of their fears and complaints Aaron, Nicky, and Matt all did manage to pass all of their finals and their classes.
The Tower was closing tomorrow for the rest of the year and despite checking almost every day with Nicky he still was invited to go to New York City with most of the team to stay at Allison’s house.
“Smithy, did you pack a swimsuit?” Nicky asks.
“Nicky, we’re going to New York for Christmas break. Do you think we’re going to swim?” Aaron asks incredulously.
“Two words, my fetus of a cousin: Hot. Tub.” Nicky holds his hand up and putting one finger up and then another. “Is hot tub two words?” Matt asks as he reaches for his own swim trunks.
“Yes Matt hot tub is two words.” FF says nodding.
“Thank you Smithster.” Matt says.
“I can’t believe you don’t know that hot tub is two words.” Aaron says with a huff.
“I can’t believe that you don’t know how to not be an asshole even after you started getting regular sex with Katelyn.” Matt returns, “Look at how not a thing that was when Smithster answered it.” he gestures to FF.
“You cannot compare Smithy to Aaron. Apples and Tomatoes.” Nicky dismisses.
“Whatever, so Allison got a hot tub at her place?” Aaron moves past the conversation.
“Aaron you just made fun of Matt for asking stupid questions.” Nicky says with a hand on his cheek.
“I fucking hate being part of your family.” Aaron says without any real heat.
“Yeah sure.” Nicky says, rolling his eyes and smiling as he saw Aaron packing swim trunks that FF knew he had bought for his cousin.
“Okay, I’ve got the packing list that Allison sent. Do we wanna run through it so that we’re all properly packed?” Matt says holding up his phone.
“Yeah, let’s run through it.” Nicky says with a sigh.
They went through Allison’s provided list twice and then zipped up their suitcases. Smith was going to be driving to the airport with Matt. Neil and Andrew were going to be driving the Maserati up alone while the rest of them were going to be flying up to New York City.
Now onto something that filled FF with far more dread than simply passing tests that determined whether or not he continued to get a free ride in college.
Meeting new people.
NEXT >>
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MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
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I read that she opened requests and it can be requested, then it may be one where those at the hazbin hotel discover that Alastor has a wife (Fem, Male, Gn) and she is someone who is very pure, innocent and almost angelic but she was also a murderer along with her husband and it surprises her more that she was also a sovereign, her power lay in her voice; She can sing and make the rest obey her, even bind them to her, but she has only a few sinners attached to her 🦑
of course! I’ll try my best, thank you for the request)
“Pretty but deadly”
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You opened your eyes and looked around to a place that didn’t seem familiar, a pain in you head made it hard to think as you got up from a bed that was not comfortable what so ever. You looked out the window and were confused, this looked nothing like earth. You turned around and looked at yourself in a near by cracked mirror trying to remember anything that could help you figure out where you were.
You fixed your dress to make yourself more presentable as you took a deep breath and started to walk down the street.
A big, bright neon sign caught your eye and you started to head towards there hoping you can find some answers
you walked into what seemed to be a hotel and looked at the walls as you walked into the main lobby.
“hello?” You ask as you then were approached by a tall woman dressed in a red suit “Hi there! Welcome to the Hazbin hotel my name is Charlie” she said with excitement In her voice
“I’m y/n” you said with a softer voice. She started to tell you about the hotel with another presence entered the room
“hey Charlie there i-“ Alastor said before he saw you freezing for a moment as your eyes locked. “My darling? Is that you?” He asked still in shock as you nod and smile as you made your way over to him hugging him.
he hugged back for a moment as he looked at you “my dear but what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in heaven?” He asked as she shook her head no “I did a bad thing” she said quietly
Alastor smiled his big smiled as he was proud of his darling “Well then I guess you’ll be stuck with me” he said “let me introduce you to everyone while we’re here”
Alastor walked you over to where everyone was as everyone started to stare at you, you slightly hid behind alastor. “Now, everyone I would like you to meet my wife, y/n” he said as he looked at you
angel chocked up a little looking at you “That’s your wife? She ain’t look like she hurt anybody” he said
“Well everyone has there secrets now don’t they” alastor said as he then stepped to the side a little putting an arm around your waist
“Now dear I have to go take care of something real quick but don’t worry these people will take care of you for the time being” alastor said as he walked off leaving you there
you looked at everyone gently putting your head down as you looked at the floor figiting with your hands a little
“Hey it’s ok you don’t need to be scared we’re not gonna hurt you” Charlie said as she led you to the table pulling out a card game “wanna play” she asked as you nodded you and some of the others started to play
Time passes and Alastor eventually returns to seeing the table with cards and you winning against everyone a grin comes to his face.
“Well I see someone is enjoying themselves” he said as he took a seat by you “Now my dear, may I ask how you got here?” He asked, you looking down at the cards mumbling to yourself
“What was that deary? I didn’t hear you” he said as you looked over at him “I-um.. I killed a few people..-“
his eyes widen as he smiled his big smile and a little shocked as well as everyone else looked at you shocked “you did what?” He asked again just to clarify “I killed a few people” you repeated again
“well isn’t that interesting” he said with a smile “And my dear, who did you kill per chance?” He asked. “It was only supposed to be the person who killed you.. but then the feeling felt good so then it was the new radio person they hired, our neighbor who said very mean things about us and then one of the teachers at the school” you said
“well now I see” he said with a smile “no need to worry darling I’ll be here with you if you need anything” alastor said as he held out a hand which you carefully took and got up “let me show you to your room”
Alastor led you to the now shared room as he closed the door softly behind the two of you. He took a small deep breath as he walked and gave you a hug gently wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to him “I missed you my dear” he said with a soft voice
“I missed you too,” you said as you hugged him back. The two of you just stood there in silence as you started to hum softly one of the songs that played on your wedding night. Alastor grinned as he slowly moved his hand to yours and the other to your side as you gently swayed together.
The time felt slow and a small moment of peace between two lovers became one again, Alastor was about to mention something when there was a knock at the door. Alastor let out an annoyed sigh as he held you “What is it?’
“There is a visitor for y/n’’ charlie said through the door as you looked at Alastor giving him a confusing look as the two of you then walked out into the hall where you saw your ex. You looked at them and wanted to puke- you HATED them and seeing them here just made you want to leave.
“Hey babe, im so glad your here” they said in a cocky tone “Im not anything to you other than your ex, get that through your dumb head” you said snapping back quickly “Yes you are, i heard you singing and it led me to you. That has to mean something” he said as you rolled you eyes getting annoyed “ It means nothing. I was humming a song between me and my Husband” you said making sure to emphasise on the last part
“Wow wow my bad, but remember when he leaves youll know where to find me” he said giving you a wink as he left the building. You rolled your eyes a sigh leaving your mouth as you look at alastor who looked ready to kill him. “Im sorry about him i-”
“There is nothing to be sorry about my dear it wasn’t your fault, lets just forget about it ok?” he said and you nodded agreeing
Later that night the two of you caught up on well everything! The death, the real world, new things going on, whatever needed to be brought up the two of you talked about as you both were now together forever
( I apologize if this isn’t what you wanted I did my best )
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rubykgrant · 10 months
Text
(Segment of my story, How It Feels, with Jon and Martin recovering at Daisy's cabin after leaving London, and before the Eye Apocalypse happens. This in particular focuses on Martin, how he's changed since being in the Lonely, and how he is also still himself. This involves tooth loss and feelings of depression/disassociation, but isn't gory, and leans more toward being comforting. Inspired by the art of @lonelyslutavatar ~)
Jon is quite proud of himself for responding to Martin in a very calm manner, instead of rushing in and assuming the worst.
The calm quickly shatters when he sees Martin standing in the bathroom, face a mix of embarrassed and worried, holding two teeth in the palm of his hand.
Several teeth-related horror stories from past statements flash into Jon’s mind (the apple, a few dozen about some sort of “evil tooth fairy” that were probably not real but still upsetting, and several connected to the Flesh and the Hunt). Jon nearly starts to panic as well, but somehow he composes himself, and moves slowly, helping Martin sit down on the lid of the toilet, and begins trying to figure this out.
Martin has some pain in his jaw, but nothing feels “broken”, and there isn’t any blood. The teeth look “fine”, except for the fact that they aren’t where they should be. Jon asks Martin to open his mouth, and it doesn’t appear as if anything is infected or irritated. To be thorough, Jon runs to get a small torch.
“I’m VERY close to freaking out! Just so you know!” Martin says, loudly.
“Yes, I’m- I’m sorry, I’ll be there in a-”
“ANOTHER ONE JUST CAME LOOSE!” Martin is able to spit it out before yelling the news to Jon. He does NOT want to swallow any of his teeth.
“I’M COMING BACK! HERE! HERE I AM!” Jon stumbles to a stop at the small door, and walks back in carefully.
This time, Martin opens his mouth WIDE, and Jon shines the little light to see properly.
“Oh,” Jon says after a moment.
“Oh? Oh, WHA?” Martin asks, making sure his mouth doesn’t close.
“Oh, um… I sort of see the- er, the issue?” Jon answers, without actually giving Martin a real answer.
“Wha ih ih?” What is it?
“Well, I can see the empty areas, where your teeth were, and… it looks like something is, er- pushing them out?” Jon elaborates. Martin finds this description unhelpful and worrisome.
“UH HUH UH AH EEE?!” The fuck does that mean?! Good God, what was in his mouth?
“Sorry! There are NEW teeth coming in! Like- like when we lose our baby teeth, and-”
“I AREHEE AH I AHEE HEE! HOW OOH I HAH OR!?” Martin demands, and after a brief second of trying to translate it in his head, Jon realizes Martin has just said- “I already lost my baby teeth! How do I have more!?”.
“Uhh…” before Jon can say anything else, two more teeth fall out, helped by Martin’s attempts to talk. These were from his top row, on the left side. They completely leave Martin’s mouth, and land in his lap. Martin groans, irritated. Jon tries to speak again, before something else distracts him. “If- I had to guess, which is all I’m doing, I’m sorry, this- this might be like your OWN spooky puberty?”
Martin groans again, giving Jon a glare.
“You were working with- hell I’m just saying his name, Peter, you were working with Peter for a while, and before that you were working at the Institute. That changed all of us, a little bit, but Peter really pushed you along, and… what finally made me change and become something more than just human was- I died. Sort of. When I was in that coma, I was pretty close to being dead, but then I came back. You were… you were almost ready to fade away when I finally found you, and then you came back. I think you might have become something more than just human,” Jon pauses a moment, to let Martin have a chance to understand what he’s saying… and because another tooth falls out. “And we saw what happens to ME when I don't feed on any statements, so… you haven’t been doing anything at all when it comes feeding what you are connected to,”
Jon places his hand on Martin’s cheek and turns off the torch, letting Martin know he can close his mouth again. Martin does so, and then immediately gives an angry huff, spitting still another tooth into his hand. He gathers up the rest in his lap, so he’s holding all of them together.
“What the hell. The isn’t FAIR. Your- your eyeballs didn’t fall out when YOU changed! And why my TEETH?! Am I supposed to start eating people? Peter didn’t even do that!” Martin blinks a few times, uncertain. “I mean, I never SAW him to that…”
“This might not be so LITERAL. I doubt this is a sign you need to actually eat anybody-”
“Pff, whatever, you don’t KNOW…” Martin scoffs.
“What I mean is- sometimes when people like us change, it isn’t always straight-forward. This might be more… like it symbolically represents the way loneliness can, er- consume you? Eat you up?” Jon is leaning back against the wall opposite Martin, arms crossed anxiously. He hunches his shoulders up, as if to shrug in a way that asks for approval.
Martin does not exactly “approve”, but unfortunately, he’s beginning to see that Jon may have a point. He also remembers that nightmare he had, as if it had been some kind of “punishment” for rejecting the Lonely. The fact that Martin can now remember Peter purposefully pulling him into the Lonely to avoid true and permanent death added up as well. Did the Eye punish Jon when he wouldn’t feed it new fear? Yes, he supposes so.
“Wonderful. So my teeth are falling out as a METAPHOR. And what am I even supposed to DO about it? Read statements that are relevant to feeling forlorn and isolated?” Martin now feels THREE teeth pop loose. Great. More to add to the collection in his hands.
“Perhaps not…” Jon ventures another guess. “That’s sort of the specific thing I’m stuck doing. And it started even before the coma, remember? So maybe- was there anything you did while working with Peter that might have been related to feeding this particular kind of fear? It might have even been something that seemed almost normal, but the more it happened, the more it had an affect on you, and when you stopped, you felt strange?”
Martin’s first reaction is to just say NO, because he’s in an ornery mood (Why shouldn’t he be moody? His teeth are falling out! He has a right!). Instead, he tries to give Jon’s question some real thought…
When Jon was still in the coma, and Peter first became the “new boss”, Martin had initially tried to take on more responsibility as a way to shield other people from the problems that came from working so closely with… a man like that. The most unnerving part was how pleasant Peter seemed. He often asked Martin to come along as his personal assistant when he went on various errands; some were clearly for meeting with other unusual people part of the whole Fear situation, while others were part of the more normal side of business for the Magnus Institute.
These people, in either situation, would usually not even acknowledge Martin at all until Peter made a point to turn to him, ask a question or make a request, and then they’d startle to see there was a WHOLE man there beside Peter. When Martin got more used to it all, he’d speak up on his own, blatantly pointing out when somebody was giving Peter incorrect information or outright lying. In those moments, they were not only surprised that Martin existed, they were suddenly INTIMIDATED by him.
Peter was very amused by this, and proudly complimented Martin on being so “accomplished”.
Yeah, that may have been how this started.
Martin was well practiced at going unnoticed, keeping quiet, fading into the background. That was a good way to keep yourself safe. It was also a good way to be lonely. The shock of suddenly being given attention no doubt fed Peter’s patron Fear plenty of Martin’s own nervous energy… and when Martin did it on purpose, making himself known with an aloof sort of confidence, it caused unease in other people. The Lonely probably loved feeding on all that.
That was the start… but what turned it into a pattern, something that Martin had to continue doing, and also something that he did without thinking about it?
It finally occurs to Martin that what was happening when he first left the Lonely might be a hint; the sleepwalking. That never happened back in London, not exactly. However… very often, when Martin left the hospital after visiting Jon, or took a break in the evening in the middle of working late, he would walk through the city and let his mind wander.
No, that was putting it mildly. He’d feel a growing disconnect from his own feelings and thoughts, and whatever remained gave him a sense of bored contempt, if anything.
He blended into the crowds, but still wasn’t “part” of it all. Martin remained separate, even in the shared experience of riding the bus or waiting for a light to change.
Occasionally he would pop into a store and use the self check-out lane, or even a bar with no intention to mingle or drink, and he would go unnoticed.
All around him, he would see people talking to each other, or chatting on calls, crying over break-ups, getting into arguments, lying about what they were doing, waiting to meet somebody who wasn’t coming, staring at displays in stores of things they longed to buy but couldn’t afford, getting frustrated after searching for a job all day, trying to be funny for friends or deal with a stressful visit with family… Martin could nearly picture himself, as if looking on from another point of view, and he was nothing but a nameless face on the street.
Obscure and forgettable. Martin would walk on, automatically, no effort in reaching his destination. It was eventual and certain. He may as well be a memory, instead of somebody who was still there.
Then he would be back at the Institute, or at home, and his thoughts would click back into place. Maybe he’d take a shower, or have something to eat. If it wasn’t too late and he was done with research or paperwork, he’d watch something on TV. It was alright. Mostly.
In the current situation, with Martin sitting on the toilet in a bathroom of a safehouse in Scotland, trying to figure out why he’s losing his teeth… he thinks that he’s finally connected some dots, and sees the bigger picture.
“Yeah… well, um- I guess maybe when I would walk around London and sort of lose myself in groups of people, without interacting with anybody, that was possibly like feeding on loneliness. So. Maybe I just need to do THAT again,” Martin looks up at Jon again, now the one checking to see if what he’s saying makes any sense.
“Hmm… it might work when you go out to buy us supplies. You’ll be around people again, and- whatever lonely feelings they have,” Jon nods, though he doesn’t look happy about it. That’s fine. Martin isn’t happy, either.
“What if I… Jon, when you got REALLY bad, you compelled people to talk about things when they didn’t want to. What if I VANISH somebody? What if I can’t control this?” Martin asks, and as soon as he closes his mouth, he has to spit three more teeth into his hand.
“That is upsetting, I know…” Jon replies, reaching out one hand to place on Martin’s shoulder. “But, listen- a few days after I started to really try and rein myself in, one of the people I compelled actually showed up at the Institute again. I was… well, I- erm…”
“You were outside, sneaking a smoke,” Martin guesses.
“Yes, FINE. Anyway, I thought they were still having problems because of me, and I immediately apologized and assured them it wouldn't happen again. I was honestly sort of distressed about that, I didn’t want to go find everybody I had compelled, because seeing me might just make them even MORE afraid, but I still wanted to say I was sorry… well, this person told me they only came there to explain they weren't angry with me. They didn't forgive me exactly, but-,”
“What, they wanted to rescind what they said before? Like, withdraw the complaint?” Martin raises his eyebrows at this.
“Something like that. They told me… they weren’t having nightmares anymore, about me OR what I made them talk about. It had faded after a while. They also told me that it sort of helped, in a weird way, to finally confront something they’d been ignoring for so long. And now they knew, the world had scary things in it, that was REAL, and they weren’t crazy for wanting to be careful…” Jon sees Martin wants to jump into the conversation, but has to pause to catch another tooth that has escaped. Jon continues talking, knowing what Martin was going to ask.
“The reason I didn’t say anything at the time- I didn’t want it to seem like I was making excuses. Oh, this person says the nightmares stopped and they faced their fears, this means nobody should be mad at me anymore! Hell, no. I still forced people to share private thoughts and experiences against their will, and that wasn’t right. I’m only telling you this NOW because I’m hoping that you being around people in public, absorbing whatever you need, THAT will be more like when I read the statements. The fear and the hurt already happened. You aren’t making it worse. If you keep ignoring this hunger, then… it will most likely get more intense, but even if that happens, you still might not vanish somebody to death. People even escaped from what Peter did, occasionally. I just don’t want you to feel… hopeless,”
“OK… yeah, OK. This is still pretty fucked, though,” Martin says, trying to steady his breathing.
“Yes. And it will probably continue to be fucked. But we can try to help each other feel better,” Jon smiles down at Martin, and somehow, that makes a tense knot in his chest loosen.
Jon waits with Martin as the last few teeth come loose, and gets a small glass jar for them. After some “Should I leave them under my pillow?” jokes, Jon grabs the small torch again to see what the situation is with Martin’s new set of teeth…
“You really don’t feel them growing in?”
“Uh-uh,” Martin may not physically feel the teeth coming into place, but he has noticed that the ache in his jaw is gone, and the weird grinding has stopped (that was probably his weird new “spooky” bones making room for his weird new “spooky” teeth. This sounded like such a stupid problem when he thought of it that way, but there just wasn’t a better term unfortunately).
“Well, they’re almost all here, and- they’re sharp! Martin, your new teeth are POINTY!” Jon uses his hand not holding the torch to tilt Martin’s head back slightly.
“WHA? LIE A HA-HIRE?” What? Like a vampire?
“No, not like that… you don’t have fangs, exactly… oh lord, I can see them rising up!” Jon says, and now Martin is starting to get annoyed that he sounds EXCITED about this. “They’re wider, and sort of flat… Martin, I think these are like- like shark teeth!”
Jon has set the torch aside, and is now holding Martin’s head with both his hands, leaning him back even more so the light from the ceiling shines into Martin’s mouth. Jon is pushing aside Martin’s upper lip to see the teeth as they move through the gum better, and that is IT, Martin is DONE.
“GEH YER FEE-HERS OW UH I OW!” before Jon can translate that into “Get your fingers out of my mouth!”, Martin actually SNARLS as a final warning, Jon whips his hands away, and just to be dramatic, Martin CHOMPS his mouth shut.
His new teeth are officially finished growing in; all the severe ridges fit together. Sharp, solid, and strong.
Shark teeth... really? Was that just the Lukas Brand? Martin has to turn half-way into a SEA MONSTER? For the aesthetic?
Jon knows Martin wasn’t actually going to bite him… and Martin knows that Jon knows this. Which is why Jon still looks more fascinated than afraid of Martin’s new MONSTER TEETH, and that just makes Martin want to try and snap at him again. Jon can see that as well, and he starts to snort laughter. Martin wishes he was strong enough to stay furious, but the corners of his mouth betray him, curving into a smile.
Yep. All his human adult teeth fell out, he’s got weird spooky shark teeth now, he’s damn near close to laughing about it. He must be mad. Oh, well. So is Jon.
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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year
Text
Lover's Spat
Will Graham x Hannibal Lecter x Fem!Reader
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Summary: You had been the prized protege of the household for some time, but a sudden distance leaves you reeling. What happens when a junior killer feels neglected? Short answer: a bloody tantrum.
Word Count: 3.4k words
Warnings: DARK CONTENT, MINORS DNI, heavy angst and whump, graphic depictions of violence, graphic depictions of gore, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non-sexual nudity, injuries, inebriation, use of sedatives, use of restraints, threats, mentions of blood, bit of a power imbalance yeah, corrupted reader, use of she/her pronouns, lmk if anything else!
A/N: Special thanks to @glitchedpup -- my muse and co-creator of this delightfully dark fic <3 i couldn’t have done it without you!! Pretty proud of this one! I shouldn't even have to say this but I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE ACTIONS DEPICTED IN THIS FIC. IT IS NOT A REFLECTION OF MY OWN MORALS/VALUES. Don't like don't read, as usual.
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– “Decipher me, my love, or I will be forced to destroy you.”  Clarice Lispector, from “The Book of Delights”.
The room was a complete mess. 
Upturned furniture, slashed curtains, and deep gouges on various surfaces. Rorschach stains of crimson fury stained the walls and the once pristine white bed sheets. Bits of bone and flesh were haphazardly strewn about like broken puzzle pieces. 
There had clearly been quite the struggle — terror and brute strength versus agility and sheer animal determination. 
The mutilated corpse of a man was splayed atop the bed. His chest had been torn open, ribs smashed to pieces in order to access his tender insides. His eyes were closed and his hands had been crudely tied together, palms facing up – like a supplicant. His heart was cupped in them, with a paring knife driven straight through it.
A crime of passion, through and through. But the man himself was inconsequential, merely a vessel to convey a message.
At first, Will didn’t register anything amiss. There were a few small clues here and there that were familiar, like a trail of breadcrumbs left behind for only the most trained eye to find. His eye, more specifically.
They led him closer to the body, where he recognized the fine mother-of-pearl handle of the knife. Suddenly, he could barely hear the voices of those around him. Cold fear momentarily ran like sludge through his veins, but he kept his composure.
This was your design. 
He’d known you were under Hannibal’s tutelage, but it was uncharacteristic of you to be so rash and utterly careless. Not once before had you left a trace, but then again, you’d never worked outside of Hannibal’s house.
He’d thought you’d mastered clinical detachment, but this scene was tainted with ire and resentment. It permeated the air like a poisonous gas, roiling in his lungs and threatening to choke him.
“Will?” Jack said, getting his attention. “Any motive you can think of?”
Shaking off the last of his visions, Will took a small fortifying breath and glanced back at him over his shoulder.
“None as of yet.” 
Will knew there’d be many components to cleaning up this mess. Not only would he have to get the police far off your trail, but he also had to find you. He called Hannibal to inquire about your whereabouts, but he confirmed you were not home. He tried to get ahold of you too, but of course, there was no response.
Once he could disentangle himself from Jack and the crime scene crew – trying to keep his hands from shaking – he racked his brain for all the possible places you could be in. He knew you liked going on long walks, but you preferred to stay away from densely populated areas unless strictly necessary. The woods were too broad a place to search, and there was no way you had made it all the way to Wolf Trap on foot.
Then, he remembered the old apartment you’d lived in before he and Hannibal took you in. It was a shoddy building on the outskirts of town, which he was pretty sure had been foreclosed for a while. Still, it was the only other place you had, really. So he made his way there.
There, he spotted a hole in the chain link fence surrounding the building. He ignored the No Trespassing sign, much like he figured you had, and maneuvered himself through the gap. He made his way up to the third floor, where your unit was, and heard murmurs behind the door.
He found you half naked and rambling, still caked in blood and viscera. In one hand, you were tightly clutching a large kitchen knife, a ribbon of fabric clinging to it. Much of your clothes were in tatters, ripped apart like you’d been desperate to get them off of yourself.
In your other hand, you had an unlabelled bottle of what he assumed was cheap vodka or gin. You were swaying a little in place, clearly inebriated. You held it to your swollen cheekbone, as if the tepid glass could soothe it.
A dark bruise bloomed up the right side of your ribcage, and your breaths were shallow and slow. On the other side, near your belly button, you had a poorly dressed wound, the fabric soaked in dark, shiny crimson. His eyes lingered on this detail for a moment, but his face did not betray the concern he felt.
It was a clear admission of guilt, but he wanted to hear you confess your sins out loud. 
“What did you do?” He asked, keeping his voice low and even.
You lifted your head and looked at him without really seeing him. Your gaze was flat and unforgiving, almost unrecognizable. A small blood vessel had burst in your left eye, leaving a red splotch in the sclera. Your muscles tensed and your nostrils flared when you registered him as an intruder.
His hand was close to his waist, where his gun was holstered, in case he’d need to draw it.
“I took him for one last waltz, carried him in my arms as the saccharine wine of his blood spilled over us.” You closed your eyes for a moment, as if reliving it. “He adored me deliriously with his last breaths. I saw it in his eyes.”
Will took a step forward, causing a floorboard to creak, and your eyes snapped open. You slashed the knife in a wide arc, silently warning him to stay back. Your eyes were wild and unfocused, much too dark in the low light. 
You swung sideways just as fast, the blade barely missing his midsection. He quickly drew back at your third frantic attempt, and you stumbled forward a little. Despite your skills and abundant bravado, both the drunkenness and the pain made you clumsy. You winced, but did not back down, still in a fighting stance.
He pulled out his gun and pointed it at your shoulder, which made you freeze.
“Hannibal’s going to be pissed if I shoot you,” he said, unfazed by your display. “Put the knife down before you get hurt.”
“You don’t have the guts to hurt me, Graham,” you sneered.
“Try me.”
For a long, tense moment, the two of you stared at each other. It was clear that neither of you actually wanted to hurt the other, but your pride wasn’t going to let you go down so easily. 
And you knew that he wouldn’t hesitate if it came down to it, especially for your own good.
“He knows, then?” You asked, still unmoving.
Will simply nodded, and for a brief second, you considered angling the knife towards yourself. You started to adjust your grip on it, and he took the opportunity to lunge forward and knock it out of your hand. It clattered loudly on the floor, and he kicked it away, grabbing your wrist.
“You’re in deep trouble, you know that?” He said, grip tightening. “What if they hadn’t called me? You left evidence everywhere! Do you know how hard it was to hide all that without getting caught? Reckless! Very reckless!”
You tried to struggle out of his grip, and he knocked the bottle out of your grasp, which shattered on the floor. As you lifted your hand to strike him, he grabbed it, now holding both of your wrists.
“Don’t touch me! You don’t get to touch me!” You spat, still thrashing.
“Oh, I beg to differ. But I’m not going to be the one to punish you,” he said, forcefully turning you around and cuffing your hands behind your back. “Now, let’s go.”
He took his jacket off and draped it over your shoulders before ushering you out of the building. He had to steady you as you stumbled about, still furious and not entirely lucid. Even the familiar scent of him enveloping you did nothing to calm you.
He wrestled you into the back seat and made sure you wouldn’t be able to unlock the doors from the inside. For the time being, you resigned to lying on your side, slightly easing the discomfort of your shoulder blades being pinned together.
“Where are we going?” You asked as he started the engine.
“Home,” he said, glancing at you from the rearview mirror. “As you know, we’re expected.”
The drive there was torturous. Every turn made your head spin, the world outside the window swirling into a dizzying whirlpool of colors. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing, keeping down the bile that threatened to crawl up your throat. You stained the fabric of the seat, since the wound on your side had torn just a little further open.
All of the events of the past forty-eight hours were still shoved to the periphery of your mind, but you knew you couldn’t keep a blind eye to your sins forever. Eventually, they would come at you like a raging river, consuming you.
Will pulled into Hannibal’s driveway just after sundown, and a sense of foreboding made your stomach bottom out. Once, the house was a safe haven; A place you finally felt welcome in, despite the fact its walls had witnessed your flaws. 
But at that moment, with death hovering at the threshold, it felt like you were heading to the gallows.
As he marched you inside, your knees almost buckled. You gritted your teeth and raised your chin, angry at yourself for displaying any sort of weakness. You were still a little lightheaded and disoriented from the drive, so you had to try even harder to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
The two of you found Hannibal in the living room, sitting by the hearth and staring at the fire within. He said nothing as he looked up, his eyes skirting over you and landing on Will, who held your arm.
In the flickering light, the harsh planes of his face spelled out your fate. You almost expected to hear a gavel pounding before the sentence was carried out… whatever it was.
“Take her downstairs,” he instructed, his tone almost bored. “And leave her there. Repentance always begins with solitude.”
His coldness stung, fueling your resentment, but it did not necessarily surprise you. Still, you tried to catch his eye, but it was no use. He returned his gaze to the fire, and Will dragged you along to the basement.
You were compliant as he led you down the metallic staircase and past a plastic strip curtain, but your eyes were fixed on the various tools against one of the walls. A pang of dread made your heart stutter as you wondered which ones might be used on you.
It was then that you tried to fight back again, desperately this time, survival instincts kicking into overdrive. Without the use of your hands, you resorted to twisting your body and attempting to bite.
He struggled against you, trying to immobilize you in his arms. You managed to get a hold of one of his forearms when it got a little too close to your face, sinking your teeth into it. He growled as you broke the skin, a metallic taste filling your mouth. When he was able to pull you away by the hair, you licked his blood from your teeth.
Instantly, you were backhanded across the face. The entire left side lit up with white-hot pain, and he grabbed you by the throat, pulling you towards the tools.
“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” He admonished as he clasped your collar around your neck. “You know I’m gonna have to muzzle you for that, right?”
He made you kneel, attaching a chain that was against the far wall to your collar. The muzzle followed right after, a layer of leather covering your mouth. 
You glared up at him as he inspected the bite on his forearm, which was still pulsing with bright pain. You felt some satisfaction at having gotten him at least a little, even if it’d potentially make things worse. If you were going to go out, you would do so fighting.
Hopefully, Hannibal would at least be able to appreciate that.
Will left you there without a parting word, instead giving you one last disgruntled look. Once he was up the stairs, you sagged in place. It wasn’t your first time being disciplined, but you knew this was different. A line had been crossed that you weren’t sure you could ever come back from, but you feared what awaited you on the other side.
The basement was dry and cool, slightly soothing your feverish skin. Your head swam once more as adrenaline began to fade from your system. You were sobering up, too, and that was the only way you could tell time was passing.
There, by yourself, you only had your thoughts to torment you, filling in the silence with a buzz like the swarming of bees.
Good things are so slippery, aren’t they?  Happiness becomes complacency, and thus monotony. Pleasure wanes quickly, and tragedy seldom waits to make itself known.
And what, then, if you are the harbinger of your own tragedy?
You rested your head against the brick wall, the blue darkness of your eyelids providing some comfort. 
After what seemed like an eternity, you heard footsteps descending the metal staircase. You opened your eyes to see Hannibal, his expression still impassive.
He knelt in front of you, undoing the straps of the muzzle. You eyed him warily, but remained unmoving. The barest ghost of a smile was on his face as he saw the crusted blood on the corners of your lips. He’d patched up Will’s arm already, skin mottled purple and red with your molar imprints. He only wished he could have seen you in action.
In his hand, there was a familiar white capsule – one you recognized from his lessons.
“Open,” he ordered. 
You clenched your jaw, turning your face away. 
"You will either open your mouth and take the medication, or I can simply dislocate your jaw and force you to take it... The choice is yours.”
Begrudgingly, you did as told, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. You swallowed the pill dry, grimacing slightly. 
“It should, at the very least, quell that sharp tongue of yours. Or perhaps it’ll only encourage it. We shall see,” he mused, looking you over. “I’ll undo the other restraints when that takes effect.”
“I’m no threat to you,” you murmured.
“Indeed. You are not.”
Still, he made no move to free you, making his point clear. He stood, walking over to the tool wall and wheeling out a metal examination table. Two trays followed right after, and you swallowed hard at the realization that he was setting up for what came next. 
"Now, darling, I have been a psychiatrist for many years... I know we can break that defiant streak of yours. The question is how many more bones will have to go with it?"
He gestured towards your ribcage, and you felt a sudden urge to hide your injuries. All the evidence of what you’d done – the irreparable mess you had gotten yourself into. You ought to beg, to grovel and weep at his feet to spare your life. But you would do no such thing, if only for the sake of keeping whatever dignity you had left.
The world began to blur at the edges, like a frosted window during the winter. The maelstrom of emotions that had been brewing inside of you began to evaporate with your exhales, giving way to a blissful nothingness. You watched him wash his hands thoroughly, donning latex gloves.
Once your body was loose and your mind was like a forest of thick fog, Hannibal undid your bindings and carefully scooped you into his arms. Your head lolled against his chest, and you swore you could hear his heartbeat like a loud thunder in your ears. You wanted to cling to him tighter, but you couldn’t find your strength.
“I missed the way you tenderized me,” you rasped, voice weak and breathy. “Soft and pliant flesh for your hands to mold. Didn’t you love me best then?”
“An artist’s job is never quite finished,” he said. “There is love in destruction, too.” 
Will descended the stairs as Hannibal was laying you down on the examination table. He used trauma shears to cut what remained of your clothes off, intent on examining every inch of you for the extent of your wounds.
The lights overhead framed their heads like halos, sanctifying them. Shouldn’t your hands be folded in prayer? Your knees on the cool stone floor?
For a moment, you wondered if you’d already died. Soon enough, you supposed.
“Jack’s taken care of. At least for now,” Will’s voice sounded far away as he spoke to Hannibal, who nodded in acknowledgment.
You focused on him, glancing at his bandaged arm. “I’m not sorry for biting you.”
He huffed in bitter amusement. “I know you’re not.”
“Just a little gift for you to remember me by.”
“Why don’t you tell us what’s troubling you?” Hannibal chimed in, listening to you hiss a little through your teeth as he cleaned up some of your scrapes. 
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” Will said. “You left us a very pointed message. Can’t imagine all that mayhem wasn’t inspired by something.”
“You’re the goddamn empath. Why don’t you tell me?” You hissed, still feeling particularly prickly with him.
Hannibal tsked in disapproval, fingers barely tracing your ribcage — a silent warning more than an assessment. Unable to help it, you let out the softest whimper, on edge at the prospect of more agony.
You weren’t entirely surprised that they were ignorant of your rage. They were too preoccupied with other matters to notice. It had been a gradual process, in which they spent more and more time away, leaving you to your own devices. The more tedious tasks were left to you, all of which you could perform almost automatically. It made everything dull at first, but whenever your thoughts would wander to their whereabouts, resentment steadily grew like a thorny bramble in your chest.
But you were quiet in your seething. You tried to remain obedient and useful, in hopes that they would just see how indispensable you were. Anger had always been a reliable companion, especially in moments of fear or weakness, but it was a dangerous fire to stoke. And stoked it was.
Until one day, you couldn’t bear the weight of it all anymore. And this was where it led you.
“I have needs, too, you know,” you began, your words slow and slurred. “Not just carnal. I wanted frenzy and fury, a pain that only you could give and take away. You said destruction is another form of love, but I felt merely endured. An afterthought.”
The two of them shared a look, finally understanding the extent of their negligence. A stray tear escaped your lash line, and Will reached down to brush it away with one of his knuckles. 
“‘These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume.’” Hannibal recited.
“And quite a fire it was,” Will murmured.
“Would you kiss me before it’s over, then?” You pleaded. “One last time?”
“Last time?” He repeated, frowning in confusion. 
“I know what happens next, Will,” the words left you with a ragged sort of exhale, defeated. “An errant flame must be snuffed out for its destruction. I am at your mercy.”
Hannibal removed the piece of cloth from your side, exposing where you’d been stabbed. He noticed the weapon was still buried inside, so he went to retrieve some long, thin surgical tweezers.
"And mercy you shall be granted, just this once. Your fire will not be extinguished tonight, we’ve worked much too hard to keep it kindled. Though discipline should douse that raging inferno considerably,” he leaned in close, so that you were eye to eye. “Did you have enough?”
You managed a small grin. “Never.”
He couldn’t help but smile back. “Atta girl.”
Will glared at him. “But it will not happen again. Our fondness for you is a weakness, despite our faults, forgiveness is not a mistake we will commit twice.”
“The scars shall serve as a reminder. But not to worry, we’ll keep a closer eye on you,” Hannibal reassured. “We are sorry too, isn’t that right, Will?” 
Will merely nodded, reaching down to place his hand on your shoulder affectionately, fingers brushing your clavicle. 
Hannibal straightened to his full height once more, the metal tweezers in his grip glinting in the light. “This is gonna hurt, darling.”
You nodded, ready to sink into delirium. “Bring it on.”
---
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goodluckclove · 2 months
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Why Are You a Writer?
So the other day I did the second of my Writer's Refuge interview series, soon to be posted later this week. It went pretty well! It was with an artist on here I admire a lot and it was a really interesting conversation.
Perhaps even too interesting. We got onto the topic on why a person would tell stories, and their answer ended up being drastically different than mine. It ended up sending my on a little bit of a spiral (No fault of yours if you read this, Cass), but I didn't really talk about it with her at the time. You know, it's an interview. It's not about me.
My instinct when I'm feeling emotionally vulnerable is to sort of hide away most of the time, but it's a sleepy day in the Gardener household and I think it might help me to talk about it. So below the read more I'm going to get deeper into the question often asked to people in my trade: why are you a writer?
Spoiler alert: it's because I'm lonely.
No real gravitas or dramatics there, I don't think. Little actual literary merit. I've heard people say that they're writers because they're overtaken by stories, just a vessel to the act of creation that can't help but craft narratives. I think that's cool in theory, and it's something I relate to, but I also think it's a mind type that doesn't exist in a vacuum.
I grew up a child of addicts with about a five and eight-year age gap between me and the rest of my siblings. We were conditioned to be deeply loyal to each other and care in the way our parents couldn't care for us, but most of the time my siblings didn't want to play with me. My parents didn't want to play with me. I had a few friends at school, but not many of them were able to hang out with me outside of campus for one reason or another. Throughout my developmental years I spent a majority of my time on my own, just figuring out different ways to entertain myself.
And I felt a fundamental other-ing from the rest of the people around me. I was precocious, considered "mature for my age" (a poison adults have been feeding the youth for generations), but it went deeper than that. I would speak quickly to my peers, joking almost frantically without letting them get a word in edgewise. It felt like they all knew a common language I was never able to learn and never could. At one point in middle school I told myself I was better than them. i don't think that anymore. Now I'm just confused.
As an adult I'm often confused by other people, sometimes to the point of fear. I struggle to stay afloat in large social situations, to look charming and keep the other person placated and talking, making sure they don't realize the fundamental truth that I'm not supposed to be there. Sometimes it gets to the point where I'm so exhausted that I physically can't look at human faces for hours afterwards. They all look like fleshy slugs.
Does that make sense? I say that a lot in conversation with those around me, a constant plea for validation. Am I making sense?
So I write. I write a lot. With no other line of work at the moment I've been writing about 60k words every month for the better part of the last year. And I do it to tell a story I'm passionate about, sure. I do it to process emotional ghosts from my past. But if I'm being honest with myself I know I write to create a connection between myself and the audience. To create a story that someone can read or watch and say "I understand", even if their interpretation is different than my own.
I do it because I'm lonely. And I'm not really proud of that. But it's the truth.
Riley was surprised when I told them this. So are you saying that if you were happy you wouldn't be a writer? They asked. Well, I am happy. I'm also lonely. These two things can exist at once.
But if I had a different life. A more functional family system that would've likely resulted in me needing far less treatment than I currently do. If all that was the case then I might not see the need to be deeply embedded in my own head. The rest of the world might not come off as the threat it sometimes is. But then again, my life and my identity would be so drastically different that I don't really see the point in speculating.
Would I be a writer? Maybe. I don't know. I'd probably have other hobbies.
I don't usually like talking about myself like this. It feels indulgent. A little too skin-less for my tastes. But, as with anything else, maybe someone younger and in a similar state could read me talking in this way and feel an aspect of comfort. If one person does then that would be worth it. I'm glad I'm a writer and I think I'm a capable one. I'm also aware that being a capable writer doesn't necessarily mean you're also deeply neurotic, which is both a comfort and a small point of envy.
If you've read to this point - which, by the way, is an oddity of cosmic proportions to me, maybe reblog and speak a bit about how you became a writer. But maybe be a little honest with yourself. If it comes from a deep well of pain, that's meaningful. If you just want to create a powerful story that people can lose themselves in, that's also meaningful.
You don't need to suffer to be a good artist. That's absolutely not something I believe to any extent. I'm just one of the ones that did, and that's something I'm going to have to work out over the course of the next rest of my life.
I don't know. I'm rambling. Maybe it can be your turn to talk now.
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