#and let me tell you: that place is HAUNTED

[archiveofvirtue]

lovely kook!reader tries her hardest to avoid her ex bf!rafe, yet they unintentionally meet at the country club after her sudden disappearance from kildare island about a year ago

content / ex bf!rafe x fem!reader, lowkey toxic, rafe confronting reader, public arguing, reader lowkey hates kooks, topper and kelce being nosy, 2.1k words

notes / this is the start of my lovely kook!reader x rafe cameron (x jj maybank) trope, inspired by my own fanfic that I published on wattpad. prob not gonna line up with everything in the fic and might differ when it comes to the relationships or dynamics. storyline is roughly set around s1 but I pictured s2/s3 rafe while writing, feel free to imagine him however u want tho! enjoy <3

It had been one long, strange year since you had set foot on Kildare Island. The familiar winding roads, the ocean breeze rolling off the coast—everything seemed to have stopped, like a postcard frozen in time. But as you watched the streets of Figure Eight again, you knew that things were different now, at least for you.

There was a time when you’d loved this place, every privileged corner of it, but that had all died the day you’d left, slipping away in the dead of night without a word to anyone—not even Rafe.

Rafe. You barely let yourself think of him, but back at home, it was hard not to. He haunted every space you’d once felt safe in, like a ghost you couldn’t shake, a wound that kept opening just when it seemed to be healing.

You knew you’d see him eventually. But you definitely had no intention of rushing it.

Your first stop was Sarah Cameron though. The Sarah you used to be best friends with. You didn’t even make it up the driveway of your house before Sarah ran toward you, wide-eyed and disbelieving. There was a sense of relief while you two were hugging, tears spilling down both your faces as though the past year had melted away. But there was a hurt, too, a simmering anger in Sarah’s eyes when she pulled back.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sarah sniffled, her voice both angry and broken. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

You looked away, throat tightening as guilt clawed at you. “I couldn’t. There was too much… too much happening, Sarah. I didn’t want anyone else to get dragged into it.”

“And you think you didn’t hurt anyone by just leaving?” Sarah’s voice was calm, yet the pain in her eyes was obvious. “You hurt me, and Rafe—”

“Don’t,” you cut her off, the hurt in your own voice surprising you both. “Please.”

For now you didn’t want to think of him, you just wanted to do right by Sarah.

Soon you two sat on the porch together, and as the sun dipped low on the horizon, you opened up as much as you could, while Sarah led you into the crazy things that had happened in her family, yet there were some things she couldn’t say—not even to you.

But it was obvious that things were different in Sarah’s life now. Sure enough you weren’t the only one who had changed.

The next day you found yourself with your arms crossed sat in the back seat, as your parents drove you toward the country club. You stared out the window, jaw clenched, as you passed the manicured lawns and sprawling mansions of Figure Eight. You’d spent your whole life around the “kooks,” but now, after a year away, their pristine facades and carefully maintained smiles felt even more unbearable. You could already hear the empty chatter, the insincere “how have you beens” that would spill from every corner of the club.

Your parents, seated in the front, acted as if nothing had changed. As if you’d never vanished in the first place. Your mother had been chatting away, going on about the latest family news, updates from the other families you knew, parties you’d missed. All with that same flawless smile, the one you had once tried so hard to mimic, until you realized it was just another mask.

“Won’t it be nice to be back?” Your mom asked brightly, as if you had simply been on a long vacation.

You forced a tight smile, refusing to answer. You didn’t want to be “back.” You didn’t want to slide into this carefully molded life again, pretending to care about who had bought the newest yacht or who was dating whom. It was all so hollow, so far from the girl you’d become in your time away.

The club came into view, its grand facade stretching out against the sky, every line designed to impress. As you all pulled up, you spotted the familiar faces you’d once known so well—polished, proud, and utterly convinced of their own superiority. You felt a flicker of resentment twist in your chest. These people, so arrogant in their security, with their money and their reputations, hadn’t changed a bit. You doubted they’d even care to ask where you’d been or why you’d left. To them, you’d simply slipped right back into place, as if you were another part of the club’s decor.

You gritted your teeth as your father gave you a proud smile, as though parading you around the club was some grand triumph. But you knew the truth. You were just another polished dime in their collection, and that was all they wanted from you. The real y/n, with your broken past and unspoken truths, was something they’d never acknowledge.

You straightened, lifting your chin, your expression cool and defiant. Let them think what they wanted. You were back, but you wouldn’t fall into their world as easily as before. You were different now.

But then you spotted Mark, the clubs bartender and an old friend of yours. You quickly slid onto the barstool in front of him, trying to get away from the piercing eyes of the people. You two exchanged a few words, Mark catching you up on the most recent gossip of Kildare, but in the back of your mind you still had this uneasy feeling, the possibility of meeting Rafe here at this hour wasn’t really high, but it was still there..

You were almost starting to relax when you heard the low murmur of voices just behind you.

“Isn’t that y/n?” The voice was unmistakable—Topper, as easy to recognize as a long-lost memory.

A wave of anxiety hit you, wondering if Rafe was with him, but when you glanced back, your eyes met Kelce’s instead. Relief flooded you, and you gave them both a small wave. Topper and Kelce had been fixtures of your life in Figure Eight once upon a time, more Rafe’s friends than yours, but you’d spent enough time around them that you knew you could at least handle a quick chat.

“Y/N,” Kelce greeted, his surprise melting into a friendly grin. “Back from the dead, huh?”

You smiled a little at that, nodding. “Something like that.”

Topper gave you a once-over, shaking his head as if still trying to process that you were actually standing there. “You know, no one knew what happened to you. You just… left.”

“Yeah, I know.” You forced a tight smile. “I guess I had my reasons.”

You exchanged a few more awkward pleasantries, and you could feel their eyes flickering to each other, as if they wanted to ask more but were holding back. It was strange—normally, they’d be all over you for details, but now, they seemed guarded. And then, as if on cue, they went completely silent.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, glancing between them, suspiciously raising your brows at them.

But you didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“Y/N.” Rafe’s voice sounded from behind you, low and dark, charged with a barely-contained anger that made your stomach twist. You cursed under your breath, clenching your jaw before forcing yourself to turn around.

His gaze met yours, his ocean blue eyes widening with shock that quickly narrowed into something darker, more dangerous. He was silent, just staring at you like he was seeing a ghost. He could see the flash of something in your eyes—surprise, maybe a hint of guilt-but you lifted your chin, meeting him head-on.

“Rafe,” you replied evenly, fighting to keep your voice steady, though you could feel your heart hammering in your chest.

Topper and Kelce glanced between you, clearly uncomfortable, before they mumbled something about getting drinks and made a quick exit, leaving the two of you alone.

You stared at each other for a long moment, he looked good. Really good. His hair was slightly longer, the blonde tips hanging over his forehead.

Staring at him for a little too long you saw a flicker of something in his eyes—regret, maybe?—but you brushed it away. You couldn’t afford to let him get under your skin again. Not after what went down between you.

Rafe stepped closer, his expression twisted with the kind of disappointment that bordered on betrayal. “So, what, you just fucking waltz back into town like nothing happened?“

He stood slowly, stepping closer until you were nearly face to face. You could see the slight lines of fatigue around his eyes, could smell the hint of whiskey on his breath, mixed with his signature cologne. It brought back a flood of memories that you’d fought to bury.

“You just..,” he said, his voice thick with something that might’ve been hurt if you thought he was capable of it. “You like fucking with me, don’t you?”

You lifted your chin, your voice was icy, edged with a bitterness Rafe hadn't heard before. “What did you expect me to do, Rafe? Stick around after everything you pulled? After what you… made me do?”

He frowned, his jaw tightening as he processed your words that felt like a slap to the face. “Made you do? I didn’t make you do anything.” he echoed, his voice rising. “Do you even get how messed up it was, just disappearing like that? Leaving everyone behind, leaving ME behind without a word?”

A humorless laugh slipped from your lips, hard and cutting. Arguing in public like this definitely wasn’t planned, but at this point you didn’t care. “That’s the thing with you, Rafe. You don’t even realize the damage you cause, do you?”

He flinched, just a barely-there twitch of his jaw, but you caught it. For a moment, you almost felt a pang of pity for him. Almost.

“What happened, y/n?” he asked softly, his voice dropping to something almost vulnerable, caught off guard by the force of your resentment. The old you he remembered had looked at him like he hung the moon, but the woman in front of him now—was a stranger.

“Where’d you go? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you?” You repeated, a bitter edge creeping into your voice. “I didn’t owe you any explanations. I did what I had to do to protect myself.”

“From me?” he shot back, his voice cold. “That’s what you think, huh?”

You bit your lip, hating that he could still get to you, hating that despite your anger, some part of you still felt drawn to him. But you refused to give him any satisfaction. “You can’t change the past, Rafe. Just… stay out of my life.”

For a moment, his anger melted away, replaced by a flicker of pain that softened the hard lines of his face. But just as quickly, the hurt turned to anger again, and he took another step toward you, his voice a fierce whisper. “You think you had it all figured out in that pretty little head of yours, huh? You run away and pretend it’s all my fault?”

You held your ground, meeting his gaze with a defiance you didn’t have before. “Maybe it is. Or maybe we were just bad for each other. Either way, I’m not letting you drag me down again. Not this time.”

His face twisted, and you could see the realization dawn on him—you weren’t the girl he’d once had wrapped around his finger, not anymore.

Silence stretched between you as you waited for him to say something, anything, that might shift the weight of what you’d once had. But he just stared at you, and for the first time, he felt a sense of regret, an ache for what he’d lost. He wanted to reach for you, to say something that might bridge the gap between you. But he didn’t.

You released a shaky breath, the adrenaline slowly draining from your body. You’d known coming back to Kildare wouldn’t be easy, but facing Rafe again had torn open wounds you thought you’d closed for good.

One thing was certain, though—you wouldn’t let him break you again. You’d fought too hard to build yourself back up, and you weren’t about to fall apart now.

This time, you weren’t going to run away.

With that, you turned away from him, willing yourself not to look back, even though you felt his eyes on you as you walked toward the door. And before he could say anything to stop you, you were gone..

please let me know what u think 🎀

feel free to request anything for lovely kook!reader x rafe in my inbox !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @rafesangelita @rafescokewhore @rafesweetie @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms @starkeysprincess @starkeydolly @beausling @seasons-of-death @sematarygirls @dolcekissy @moremaybank @httpsdrewstarkey @t6urusmoon

[getoslamb]

a/n: slow intro with a fair bit of dialogue & little plot twist at the end? + if you don't like gunplay, i promise this is not the one for you, don't read it wc: 5.7k

the rest of kinktober here + (toji art credit) + special tag @risararelywrites <3

As the night crept on, the thrill of the scare park hung thick in the air, punctuated by bursts of laughter and muffled shrieks from other visitors. You walked arm-in-arm with Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru, revelling in the pulse of adrenaline that shot through you whenever an actor lunged from the darkness. Together, you’d gone through nearly every haunted house in the park, each one more elaborate than the last. 

But now, as you drifted toward the edge of the grounds, the lively sounds began to fade, swallowed up by the sight of a lone haunted house standing apart from the others—a grim silhouette shrouded in eerie, rolling fog.

This house looked different. It was darker, older, with an unsettling aura that seemed to thicken the air around it. Unlike the other exhibits, there were no bright lights, no cheering guides or costumed actors welcoming you in, just an open doorway that hinted at cracked wood, grimy windows, and shadows that seemed to hang around and watch.

"Why isn’t anyone going in?" you murmured, stopping to stare at the building. "Did they close it for the night?"

Shoko glanced at Suguru, exchanging a look that sent a tiny ripple of unease through you. “No, it’s open. Just not exactly popular,” she replied, her voice low.

“Not popular?” You smirked, letting the hint of a challenge seep in. “Is it really that bad?”

“Depends who you ask,” Satoru replied, his usual playful tone missing as he stared at the house. “People don’t go in alone.”

“It’s a scare park.” You scoffed, waving off his warning. “How scary could it actually be?”

Suguru placed a hand on your shoulder, a rare seriousness in his eyes. “This one’s different. People say there’s something… wrong with it. Nobody wants to find out for sure.”

“Wrong?” you echoed, crossing your arms. “How, exactly?”

“Some say there’s a man who hides in there,” Shoko murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “They don’t know if he’s some rogue actor or just… some crazy man. But he’s armed. Supposedly, he sneaks around pretending to be part of the act.”

You looked at the house again, half-amused, half-spooked. “So you’re telling me there’s a real psycho in there hiding out? Right.”

Your friends exchanged wary glances, their usual bravado notably absent, which only deepened your curiosity. “You’re serious? This is over some urban legend?”

“It’s not a legend,” Shoko muttered, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting to see someone creeping out of the fog. “People say they’ve seen him covered in blood. They say he blends right in until it’s too late.”

“Staff avoid it too,” Satoru added, his tone unusually flat. “So if you’re thinking about going in, maybe reconsider.”

A thrill shot through you, half defiance, half intrigue. The house loomed ahead, daring you. “So you all think he’s in there tonight?”

Suguru’s hand tightened on your shoulder. “It’s not worth finding out. There are plenty of other places we can check out.”

But the challenge tugged at you, almost tauntingly. You took a step forward, drawing exasperated sighs from your friends.

"Are you actually going in there?"

"This is a hard no for me," Shoko insisted.

“Come on, we’re not kidding around,” Suguru said, his expression sombre.

You gave them a shrug and a smile. “I’ll just peek in, five minutes, that’s all.”

Shoko crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “Right, nothing bad ever happens in ‘just five minutes.’”

“Remember, if he’s in there, we’re not coming to save you.” Satoru jokes as he rolls his eyes.

"Noted," you replied, dancing around him with a grin. "If anything happens, at least I'll have a story."

But as you moved toward the darkened doorway, the memories of the warnings hounded you, and crossing the threshold, a small voice whispered, maybe they're right.

Inside, the shadows clung to the walls, warping and shifting with every flicker of the dim yellowing light bulbs. The air was heavy, still, as though the house itself was holding its breath, waiting. With each cautious step, the floor remained eerily silent-no familiar creaks, no whispers from other thrill-seekers echoing from somewhere in the darkness. The quiet was suffocating.

"It's just another haunted house," you whispered, trying to break the silence. But even your voice seemed to be swallowed up by the shadows.

You reached the edge of a dusty, darkened room when a soft dragging sound cut through the quiet. You whirled around, your heart hammering, but the hallway behind you was empty. The moment you began to steady your breath, a low rumbling chuckle echoed through the room, crawling down your spine.

"Didn't think anyone would wander in alone," a voice drawled from the shadows, smooth and dripping with dark amusement. "You've got guts.”

Your breath caught as a figure began to take form: a tall, wide man whose eyes glinted in the poor light. He moved like a shadow off the wall, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips as he took another step forward, the faint glow illuminating a pistol in his hand, his finger lazily resting near the trigger.

You swallowed hard and forced a grin, hoping to mask your unease. "Are… are you part of the show?"

He chuckled, his eyes raking over you with dangerous curiosity. "I'm part of an experience," he told you, that taunting smile twisting. "But not the kind you paid for.”

Your heart was racing as he closed in; his eyes were razor-sharp and predatory. He didn't hurry-if anything, he drew out the fear across your features. The pistol glinted in his hand, but his gaze stayed fixed on you, like he was reading every flicker of emotion.

He moved forward with a nearly lazy step; his head fell to the side as his smile grew, watching you inch backward. "So, you thought this was just another haunted house?" he asked, the tiniest thread of dark thrill weaved in. "Guess it's too late to warn you some rumours are worth listening to.

Your back hit the wall, and his eyes lit up with a spark of satisfaction. He leaned in closer, pressing the gun against his temple as he did so, an intense gaze and a chilling gleam in his eye. "You've got that look-the one which says you're curious. Brave, maybe a little too much so." He paused, smirk deepening. "So, how brave are you feeling now?”

You clenched your jaw and wouldn't flinch. "Maybe I am not as easy to scare as you think," you muttered, though your own voice quivered ever so slightly. "Oh?" His smirk whittled just a little sharper, a flash of mirth dancing in his eyes. "Then let us see.”

He let go of your wrist, only to trail the gun’s barrel along your jawline, his eyes drinking in every flinch, every shiver. He seemed to delight in drawing out the silence, each second weighted with his slow, deliberate movements. And in that quiet, somehow, the unspoken threat felt far more sinister.

As he studied you, his gaze lingered, savouring the fear that glinted in your eyes. “I have all night to see what it takes to break you,” he murmured, his voice almost playful. “And something tells me, this is going to be fun.”

The glint in his eyes held a dark promise, and you knew, too late, that you’d wandered into a trap—the kind that left you wondering just who, exactly, was meant to be scared.

You swallowed, struggling to hold his gaze, fighting the instinct to look away. But he had you cornered, and he knew it—knew you were trapped in his snare, just like he’d intended. The glint in his eye sharpened as he watched, a spark of twisted satisfaction lighting up his face as he took in every flicker of fear.

The man’s grin stretched wider, dark and mocking, as he watched you. With a slow, deliberate motion, he lowered the gun, tracing the cold barrel down your jawline, his eyes studying every inch of your face with a predatory intensity. The silence between you pressed in, suffocating and tense, somehow worse than any threat he could have made.

“You’re trembling now,” he whispered, voice dipped in dark humour. “But it makes me wonder…” He tilted his head, a false look of innocence softening his gaze even as his smirk stayed razor-sharp. “Is it fear making you shake? Or is it something… else?”

Your breath caught, a barely perceptible hitch that he didn’t miss. His smirk grew, as though he’d stumbled on a private joke, something only he was in on. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re the kind who gets a thrill out of all this?” he mocked, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, as if he were sharing a secret with you. “The type who’d never admit it, but… can’t help the way their heart races anyway.”

You tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let you off so easily. With a nudge from the gun, he forced your chin up, his gaze locking with yours. “I see you,” he continued, inching closer, his warm breath fanning across your skin. “People like you walk in here alone, pretending it’s just for the thrill.” He leaned in, his voice lowering to a near murmur against your ear. “But maybe you wanted more.”

His words sent a shiver through you, mingling fear with something you didn’t want to acknowledge. He leaned back, watching your reaction, fingers brushing the side of your face in a touch that was disturbingly gentle. “Maybe that’s why you’re here,” he said, a rough laugh slipping from his lips. “I doubt someone like you would admit it, though.”

Your mind raced, and your voice caught in your throat, a knot of indignation and fear keeping you silent. He noticed, smirking like he’d already won. “Right on the mark, aren’t I?” he murmured, his hand resting on your cheek. “It’s always the innocent ones—scare the easiest, break the fastest.”

Your heart pounded, and though you willed yourself to pull away, your body seemed frozen under his touch. He held your gaze, thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “Just say it,” he teased, leaning close again. His thumb pressed lightly against your throat, tracing the beat of your pulse. “You didn’t come in here just for the scare, did you?”

The mocking smile he wore softened slightly, his voice lowering to a nearly intimate whisper. “I can feel it—the way you’re responding. The thrill, the nerves, the part of you that’s not sure if you want to run… or stay.”

You hated the way he seemed to read you, hated that he saw through the mask you wore to the part of you he’d awakened, a part tinged with something reckless and dangerous. He bent down further, enjoying how he had you at his mercy. "That's it, isn't it?" he mumbled, "It's a game-this line between predator and prey." His voice dropped to a purr. “Between fear… and whatever this is.”

You tried to steady your breath as he studied every flicker of emotion that crossed your face. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the touch feather-light but charged, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“How much would you actually enjoy being pushed?” he wondered aloud, eyes glinting. “Maybe you’d even beg for it. Maybe you’d even like not having control.”

A thrill of panic mingled with something darker, something that made your heart beat faster. He could see it, knew the effect he was having, and the satisfaction on his face only grew. “Just admit it,” he murmured, his tone insistent, his thumb grazing your jawline. “Admit how much you’re enjoying this.”

His fingertips lingered on your hip, a reassuring touch that was highly unsettling, as if he were daring you to let those words pass your lips out loud. "Come on," he seduced, the devilish glint dancing in his eyes. "I promise I won't bite… unless you're asking.

His hand slid around to the small of your back, pulling you against him. The heat of his body reminded you just how close he was, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted. His voice dropped to a near-growl. “Last chance to back out.” His lips ghosted over your earlobe. “Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you don’t…”

His grip tightened, teeth grazing your ear, and then he pulled back, his gaze sharp as he slipped the gun into his waistband. His eyes were fixed upon yours with such intensity and something so akin to hunger; it sent the shiver down your spine. "So," he breathed, his voice low, with just a hint of challenge. "Ready to play?

Your heartbeat pounded against your rib cage, each thud a resonating drum in the silence between you. His words, his touch, the heat radiating off his body, it threatened to overwhelm you, drowning out every rational thought. You knew you should tell him to stop, should put space between you, but something kept you frozen there, curiosity mixing with the thrill of the unknown.

"I… I don't.", you stuttered, all but a whisper, while shallow breaths betrayed you, even in protest.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk edging toward a full grin. “You don’t what?” he asked, eyes gleaming. “Don’t want me to stop… or don’t know if you should?”

Closer still, he leaned in until his nose brushed against yours, his gaze burrowing into yours with an intensity that made your knees feel weak. “I think you want this more than you’ll admit,” he murmured. His hand slid up your back, fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your head, exposing your neck. “Just say the word,” he whispered, his lips hovering over yours. “I’ll give you everything you’ve been too afraid to ask for.”

He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, a playful nip that he soothed with his tongue, his voice softening to a near-coax. “Come on, sweetheart,” he breathed, every word a slow, dangerous promise. “Let yourself stop fighting it.”

"Okay," you whispered, just barely audible, the last shred of resistance dissolving as his lips claimed yours-hard and demanding. The kiss bruised with its possessiveness-he took your mouth with such hunger that robbed your breath, his tongue delving deep inside to consume you. His hand tangles in the strands of your hair, keeping you firmly in place, the other roaming along your body, mapping out every curve.

But the next instant, he pushed you away, and you tumbled backward, falling against a stack of old props that tumbled with you, a flicker of fear crossing your features. He saw it.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he mocked, stalking toward you on lean legs with a predator's ease. "Scared off so soon?"

His eyes shone with a feral light, a cruel smirk playing about his lips. "I thought you wanted to play."

He leaned over you, grasping at your chin roughly to force you to look up at him. "Maybe you're not as brave as you thought," he sneered. "Or maybe", the tone darker, "you just need a little more incentive."

His hand had gone to his waistband, drawing out his gun. He pressed the cold metal against your lips, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that chilled you to the bone.

"Open up, sweetheart," he ordered in his voice, a thick coating of mockery. "Let's see if you're as good with that mouth as I think you are." A hand twisted in your hair yanking your head back to bare the line of your neck. "Or maybe," he mused, "I should just shut you up completely."

He traced the gun along your jaw, down your throat, stopping at the hollow at the bottom of your neck. His eyes never once strayed from yours as he watched for the effects, feeding off your growing fear. "What's it gonna be, baby? Want to play nice, or should I get rough with you?"

He leaned closer, his eyes glinting with sadistic glee as he savoured the tension. "Tick tock," he murmured, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Time's running out, and my patience is wearing thin. Choose wisely, baby—it might just save your life."

A wicked grin spread across his face as he saw you open your mouth, lips parting just enough for the barrel of the gun to slide between them, the cold metal pressing against your tongue. "That’s it," he purred. "Good girl."

He pushed the gun deeper, savouring the sight of you as the taste of metal filled your mouth. "Suck," he commanded, his voice thick with lust as he watched you obey, your lips stretched around the barrel, tongue swirling over the smooth surface. His hand in your hair tightened, and he let out a low, satisfied groan.

"Fuck, that’s hot," he breathed, his hips pressing forward as he ground against you. "You’re a natural at this, aren’t you? I bet you'd look even better with your lips wrapped around something else."

He watched with rapt attention as you continued, cheeks hollowing, mouth working the gun with an obedient rhythm. His gaze darkened as he took in the sight of you, debasing yourself at his command.

Finally, he withdrew the gun, a string of saliva briefly connecting it to your lips. "Kiss it," he growled, voice low and commanding. "Show me how much you want it."

You pressed your lips against the barrel, kissing it softly, your eyes flickering up to meet his gaze, exactly as he demanded. Seeing you so submissive, so compliant, sent a rush of satisfaction through him.

"Atta girl," he murmured approvingly, his voice a soft purr of pleasure.

He pulled the gun away, resting it on the side as he freed his cock from his pants, stroking it slowly, teasingly, as you knelt before him. He smirked down at you, his eyes glinting with dark promise. "Put that pretty mouth to work, baby. Show me what you can do."

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, guiding your head towards his cock, the musky scent of him filling your nostrils. His other hand gripped the base of his shaft, slapping the head against your lips, leaving a smear of pre-cum.

He pushed forward, forcing the head of his cock past your lips, groaning as your warm mouth enveloped him. "Fuck, that's it," he growled, his hips rocking gently, pushing deeper.

He groaned as your lips stretched around his thick, veiny shaft, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head. His cock was long and hard, the skin smooth and hot against your tongue. The musky, masculine taste of him filled your mouth as you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked.

Saliva dripped down your chin as you bobbed your head, your hand coming up to grip the base, stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth. He tasted of sweat and arousal, the flavour heady and intoxicating on your tongue.

Lewd, wet sounds filled the air as you slurped and sucked, your nose buried in his pubic hair, breathing in his scent. His balls were heavy and full, bouncing against your chin as you worked him over.

"Fuck, just like that," he grunted, his grip on your hair tightening, his hips snapping forward, fucking your face with shallow thrusts. "Take it all, baby.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he hit the back of your throat, your gag reflex working overtime, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you relaxed your throat, letting him slide deeper, taking him to the hilt.

He threw his head back with a groan, his abs clenching, his thighs trembling as you swallowed around him, your throat fluttering around his sensitive flesh.

"Goddamn, you're a natural," he panted, his voice strained with pleasure.

The click of the safety being disengaged sent a jolt of fear through you, even as you continued to suck him off. The cold metal of the gun brushed against your cheek, a stark contrast to the heat of his cock in your mouth.

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending vibrations through his shaft. "You like that, don't you, baby? The danger, the thrill. It gets you hot, doesn't it?" He pressed the gun to your temple, the barrel cold against your skin as he fucked your face harder, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper down your throat.

"Bet you're soaking wet right now," He groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he neared his peak. "Fuck, I'm close," he grunted, his hips stuttering, his cock throbbing in your mouth.

He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, his cock slick with your saliva. "Not yet, baby," he growled, his voice low and guttural. "I'm not done with you."

He grabbed your arm, hauling you to your feet, spinning you around and shoving you so you were bent over the wooden table. The rough wood scraped against your skin, the edge digging into your hips as he kicked your legs apart, exposing you to his gaze.

He flipped up your skirt, tearing your panties away with a sharp rip. His fingers dipped between your folds, teasing your entrance, circling your clit. 

"Fuck, look at you," he purred, his hand coming down hard on your ass, making you yelp. "Already so wet for me. Yeah, you’re not innocent at all, are you?” He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin as he spat directly onto your pussy, the warm liquid trickling between your folds before he licked a stripe along your slit.

He dove in, his tongue delving deep into your folds, lapping at your juices. He teased your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, flicking the sensitive bud with rapid strokes. The hand holding the gun rested against your ass as the other held one of your thighs, exposing you completely to his hungry mouth.

He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, darting flicks, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. He growled against your flesh, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine. His nose rubbed your clit as he buried his face deeper, his tongue probing your entrance.

He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them to stroke your G-spot as he continued to eat you out. He added a third finger, stretching you, filling you, as his tongue swirled around your clit.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he groaned, his words muffled against your pussy. "So sweet and wet for me. I could eat this cunt all day."

He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking hard, his tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive nub. His fingers pumped in and out of you, the wet squelching sounds obscene in the quiet room.

His cock throbbed, rock hard and leaking pre-cum as he feasted on your pussy. The taste of you, the feel of your wetness coating his tongue, the sounds of your moans and whimpers—it all drove him wild with lust.

He fucked his fingers harder into you, curling them just right to hit that spot that made you see stars. His tongue flicked rapidly over your clit as he sucked, nibbled, licked every inch of your sopping folds.

He pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. His eyes dark and hungry as he took in the sight of you, spread out and desperate for him.

"Mmm, you're so fucking wet," he purred, his voice low and dangerous. "I could eat this pretty pussy all night long."

He trailed the gun along your inner thigh, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. "But first, I think I need to prep you a little. Get you nice and ready for me."

He teasingly ran the barrel of the gun along your folds, the cold metal sending a jolt of sensation through you. "What do you think, baby? Think you can handle this?"

You looked over your shoulder at him, stealing a glance as his eyes gleamed in the moonlight, a faint nod of your head as you wanted it.

"I don't know," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Can you?"

He circled your clit with the tip of the gun, the metal cool against your heated flesh. Your hips twitched, seeking more pressure, more friction.

"Look at you, so desperate for it," he purred, his free hand coming down on your ass in a sharp slap. "Even with a gun to your cunt, you're still begging for it."

“Tell me-” he says as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, “Use those words.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to spill from your lips. His touch, his words, they were driving you crazy with need. You wanted him, all of him, and you didn't care how twisted it was.

"Please," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. "Please, I need it. I need you."

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "That's more like it”

He trailed the cold metal of the gun along your slit, teasing your entrance, circling it slowly. You could feel the heat of him, the weight of his gaze on your body as he watched you squirm

He pressed the tip of the gun against your entrance, the metal cool and unyielding. Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest as he applied just the slightest bit of pressure.

He pressed the tip of the gun inside you, the cold metal sliding in teasingly slow. You gasped, your body tensing at the unfamiliar sensation. He went deeper, inch by torturous inch, stretching you, filling you in a way you'd never experienced before.

"Fuck, look at you taking it," he groaned, his voice low and approving. "Such a good girl, so eager for me."

He worked the gun in and out, fucking you with it, the metal gliding along your walls, hitting spots you didn't know existed. Your pussy clenched around it, trying to adjust to the intrusion, the friction.

He pushed the gun deeper, the metal sliding in with a slick sound, your wetness easing the way. You whimpered, your body trembling as he filled you, stretched you, claimed you in the most primal way possible.

He pulled it out slowly, the metal dragging along your folds, teasing your entrance, before pushing it back in.

He twisted the gun, the barrel rubbing against your sensitive walls, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. Your pussy clenched around it, trying to adjust to the intrusion, the friction.

The wet, obscene sounds of the gun pumping in and out of your pussy filled the air, mixing with your moans and whimpers. He angled it just right, hitting that spot deep inside that made your toes curl, your eyes roll back in your head.

He pulled the gun out suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. You whimpered at the loss, your body craving more.

"Patience, baby," he purred as he tossed the gun to the side. "We're just getting started."

He lined himself up, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance.

He pushed inside you slowly, inch by throbbing inch, stretching you, filling you. Your pussy clenched around him, trying to adjust to his size, his heat. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady as he sank deeper.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his voice strained with pleasure. "Feels so good wrapped around my cock."

He bottomed out as his massive frame engulfed you as he leaned over your back, his balls heavy and full against you as he remained deep inside you. He stayed there for a moment, letting you feel every inch.

Then he started to move, his hips rocking, his cock sliding in and out of your slick heat. He set a slow, deep rhythm, pulling out until just the tip remained before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt.

Your pussy fluttered around him, your walls clinging to his shaft, trying to keep him inside. He grunted with each thrust, his fingers digging into your skin with a pressure that you know will leave marks.

He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you back against him, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper. His other hand slid up your body, coming to rest at your throat. Not squeezing yet, just a gentle reminder of his control, his dominance.

"That's it, baby," he growled in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Take it. Take my cock like the good girl you are."

He fucked you harder, faster, his grip on your throat tightening just a fraction. The dual sensations of pleasure and pressure, of being filled and controlled, sent waves of heat coursing through your body.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he panted, his hips pistoning, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur. "Gonna fill you up with my cum. Pump you full until it's leaking out of you."

His fingers tightened around your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your heart race, your pussy clench around him. He was so close, his cock throbbing inside you, his body tensing.

His grip tightened on your throat, his fingers pressing just hard enough to make your pulse flutter beneath them. His other arm cinched around your waist, pulling you back harder, his hips slamming into you with bruising force.

"Fuck, gonna come," he grunted, his voice strained and guttural.

He pounded into you relentlessly, his cock stretching you, claiming you, branding you from the inside out. His balls slapped against your clit with each brutal thrust, the wet, obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

His hand on your throat squeezed again, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your head swim, your vision blur. The dual sensations of pleasure and pressure, of being filled and controlled, pushed you closer to the edge.

His fingers found your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles as he fucked you harder, deeper, his cock pounding into your pussy like a jackhammer. The added stimulation was too much, sending you careening over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm.

Your pussy clamped down around him, fluttering and clenching, milking his cock for all it was worth. Your body shook and trembled, your moans echoing off the walls as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

He groaned, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering as your pussy worked him over. "Fuck, yes, come for me," he growled, his fingers pinching your clit, prolonging your climax.

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he emptied himself inside you. His thick cum filled you, painting your walls white, marking you as his.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight pinning you to the table, his breath coming in harsh pants against your neck. For a moment, you both just lay there, basking in the afterglow, your bodies still joined, your hearts beating in sync.

He rolled his hips, his semi-hard cock still buried inside you, drawing out your pleasure. He pulled out slowly, a groan escaping him as your walls clung to him, trying to keep him inside.

He watched, transfixed, as his cum leaked out of your pussy, dripping down your thighs. The sight of you, so thoroughly used, so marked by him, sent a fresh wave of arousal through him.

"Fuck, look at you," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. "So fucking beautiful, covered in my cum."

He leaned down, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your spine as you lay there, trying to catch your breath. His hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves and dips, the marks he'd left on your skin.

"You did so well, baby," he purred, his lips brushing against your ear.

He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing. “Come on, up, lemme get a look at you.”

He helped you up, his hands steady on your hips as you wobbled on shaky legs. He turned you around to face him, his eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over your body, taking in the marks he'd left, the cum still dripping down your thighs.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he growled, his hands cupping your face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. "I could look at you like this all day."

He kissed you then, hard and deep, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting himself on your lips. He pulled back, his eyes searching yours, a question in them.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks as he helps you redress, along with himself.

"No," you breathe, your voice hoarse and trembling. "It was... intense, but not painful."

You lean into his touch, savouring the warmth of his hands on your face, the solidness of his body against yours. Despite the darkness of what just transpired, there's a strange comfort in his presence, a sense of belonging.

“The gun-” you begin before he chuckles and interrupts you as he approaches the gun and picks it up, “Looks pretty real, huh? Feels it too.”

You laugh a little at that, “Yeah, it definitely felt it.”

“I’ll have to thank your friends for getting me such a good prop” He says, “And for arranging this whole place…You think they’re waiting outside?”

“God no, Shoko made it very clear yesterday that she wouldn’t wait around whilst I came in here to get fucked by my boyfriend. They’ll be long gone, we can call a cab.”

“Cab it is.” He smirks as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

taglist:

@l0v3m3-p13as3 @hishearttohave @williamafton26 @kentochronicles

@jays-adventure3 @nctislifue @eeveedvck @needtoloveoutloud @yowumi

@sweetpo1son @betelgeuse420 @yuhig-blog @psychedellyc @char-35

@kaeyeahsworld @sukunadckrider @ladyackermanisdead @szired

© getoslamb ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works

[semperama]

I wrote this last night when I was trying to distract myself from...everything. Set in 3x15, post-well collapse.

----

Buck is bleeding.

It’s Eddie who notices. He pulls the oxygen mask Hen just put on him to the side and nods down at Buck’s lap where his hands dangle over his knees. “What happened there?”

“Eddie, don’t—” Hen starts to say as the ambulance jolts into motion, Chim up front at the wheel. But then she looks at Buck’s hands, and Buck looks down at them too, and he sees what they see—rusty crust of dried blood, some of it bright red and oozing sluggish, dripping between his feet. A few of the nails are cracked or half ripped away. Now that he’s looking, his fingers throb. The pain is dull and distant, but it’s there.

“Buck,” Hen says, half dismay, half resignation. She reaches, hesitates.

“I’m fine,” Eddie says. He’s talking to Hen, but he meets Buck’s gaze and holds it. “Go check him out.”

“No.” Buck fights the urge to put his hands behind his back, like that’ll make a difference. “It’s nothing. Just a few scrapes.”

But Hen already has the antiseptic in her hands, and she takes Buck by the wrist, pulls him closer and leans over him.

It stings. He hisses, flinches. An ache haunts the back of his throat, and he can’t tell if it’s from residual panic or from screaming Eddie’s name, sobbing in Bobby’s lap.

“What did you do?” Eddie says. He’s still so pale, and Buck wants to take his hand away from Hen so he can pull Eddie against him, rub color and life back into his limbs.

“This idiot thought he could dig his way to you with his bare hands,” Hen says.

It sound crazy when she says it like that, but it wasn’t crazy, it wasn’t. It was essential. If Bobby hadn’t pulled him away, he would have gotten to Eddie eventually. His heart would have stopped beating otherwise, so—it would have worked. He could have done it.

Eddie won’t stop staring at him. And it’s fine, because Buck doesn’t want to look away either, or to let Eddie out of his sight ever again. He isn’t—he wasn’t supposed to be on this ambulance, but he’d turned to Bobby and said, Shouldn’t someone stay with him? And Bobby had looked at him for a long time before nodding, Okay, go on, and Buck was climbing in behind Eddie before the words had even fully left his mouth.

“Buck,” Eddie says, admonishing, and that’s—Buck laughs, short and sharp.

“You cut your line.”

Eddie grins. It’s dim with exhaustion, but it’s still—it’s— “Please,” he says. “You’d have done the same.”

Would Eddie have done the same, if their places were reversed? Would he have clawed at the earth, if it was Buck down there? When he was swimming through all that water, that impossible distance, was he thinking—like Buck was thinking—about how it wasn’t supposed to end this way? There was still so much inside Buck, and he needed someplace to put it, and he knew, too late and with dozens of feet of mud between them, that Eddie was that place.

Does Eddie know? Should Buck tell him now?

He opens his mouth, but he thinks better of it when Hen reaches for his other hand. No, not now. “Maybe I would have,” he says instead, “but you’d have given me hell for it.”

Eddie nods minutely. His gaze feels like a weight, pinning Buck to the uncomfortable bench. “Yeah. I would have.”

Hen finishes wrapping Buck’s fingers in gauze just as they arrive at the hospital. Now that he’s thinking about it, the pain is more pronounced, his heartbeat pounding in his fingertips. He jumps out of the back, and holds a hand out to help Eddie down too, but Eddie looks at him like he’s crazy and levers himself carefully to the ground without Buck’s help. It’s—considerate of him, avoiding Buck’s injured hands, but Buck wants to touch him so bad he thinks he might start screaming again. He settles for putting a steadying hand on Eddie’s shoulder when his feet hit the ground.

It hurts when he squeezes. He squeezes harder, until Eddie pats the small of his back and says, “I’m good.”

A nurse leads Eddie back to check him out. Hen and Chim head back to the station; they need to get the ambulance back, do their paperwork, help Bobby wrap up their shift, but they both hug Buck on the way out and tell him to call if anything comes up.

This is just a precaution, really—check Eddie’s lungs, check for hypothermia, get him painkillers for how sore he’ll be in the morning. Still, Buck stares at the doors that lead back to the exam rooms and doesn’t look away, hardly blinks. He wonders what the distance is between them now. If it’s more or less than the distance from the surface of the earth to the place where Eddie was buried alive.

At some point, Bobby comes, presses the keys to Buck’s Jeep into his hand and tells him they dropped it off in the parking lot, then leaves again. Buck must have spoken to him, but he doesn’t know what he said.

It’s fine. Eddie is fine, and Buck should be embarrassed that he still can’t draw a full breath. In, out, he tells himself. In, out, until the doors swing open and Eddie is there again, some color in his cheeks, smiling.

Buck gets to his feet, but he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They hurt more now, waves of pain pulsing up his arms. He wants to reach out.

Eddie’s close. One foot away. Less. No earth between them.

Buck could touch him. Buck wants to touch him. But Eddie beats him to it. His hand lands on the back of Buck’s neck, and Buck is so relieved, his knees nearly give out.

“Home?” Eddie asks. And—he’s asking for Buck to take him there, but there’s something in the way he says it, something in his eyes and the way they’re locked on Buck’s. He could mean something else. Yeah, you are, Buck wants to say.

“Home,” he says instead.

Eddie’s palm lingers on his neck. Buck’s own hands throb. He flexes them, takes comfort in the ache. He doesn’t have to dig anymore, right? He doesn’t have to dig.

[himasgod]

Kinich x r4ped!reader

Scaramouche x family issues!reader

(I finally finished this request! I've tried to make it as non-specific as possible, I know this is a sensitive subject. If any of you, dear readers, have gone through a similar experience, I want you to know that this is a serious subject, and that you are not alone. You have many things, many people, many laws and entities protecting you. Feel free to express yourself. You can count on me if you need anything.)

Kinich

Where you find comfort on him after being sexu4lly 4bused.

It was a thick night in Natlan, and the heat was barely able to alleviate the weight you felt in your chest. In the last few days, you had tried to return to your normal life, pretending that everything was fine; but the reality was that the shadows of your pain continued to haunt you. You didn't want to talk, not even to Kinich, afraid that your words would fail to convey the hell you had lived through. However, the concern in his eyes convinced you that tonight you could no longer bear your suffering alone.

Kinich was at your side, silent. Not asking for explanations, not pressuring. Despite his pragmatic personality, he was perceptive and knew when someone was carrying more than they could hold. He watched you for a moment, his eyes serious and attentive, without traces of judgment, only open for whatever you decided to trust him with.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to say," Kinich murmured softly, breaking the silence gently. His rough hands, accustomed to combat and hunting, sought yours with unusual care, as if he were afraid of breaking you at the slightest contact. “But I am here, for whatever you need. You know I love you, forever”

You felt the calm strength in his touch. A shiver ran through your skin, as if Natlan’s warmth was not enough to calm the coldness that had remained inside you since that fucking day. The words were stuck in your throat, and although you wanted to answer him, your voice seemed to have faded. But Kinich understood, as if your silence spoke for itself. He gently pulled you towards him, and without saying anything else, he let his arm surround your body with a protective warmth, gently, as if he were leaving you enough time to react, in case you did not want to have any contact.

“I know that what they did to you…” he began to say, his voice low and full of a weight that he rarely showed, “is something that no human being should endure. I can't undo what they did to you, or erase that pain… but I'll be here, even if you just want company without words."

You squeezed your eyes shut, and at last, the knot in your chest began to give way. Tears ran free, and Kinich didn't look away for a moment. He stayed by your side, like an immovable pillar in the middle of the storm that was hitting you. There was no rush, no attempt to change or minimize what you felt. He was simply there, sharing the weight in silence.

When you finally found your voice, you could barely whisper through your tears:

"I'm scared… scared that I'll never feel whole again, that this has taken a part of me away forever. I feel dirty, I've been taken away…"

Kinich looked at you, his gaze filled with an empathy rare in him. With a deliberate slowness, on purpose in case you didn't feel comfortable, he placed his hand on your face, gently wiping away the tears with his thumb.

"You're so much more... you are stronger than you think,” he replied, with a conviction so deep that he almost managed to make you believe him. “They haven’t taken anything from you. You will overcome it, and you will be the same as always. It is just a process that you will face… and I will be there throughout the process, helping you. You will overcome it. I promise you that.”

His words were like a balm, sincere and firm. Although the doubt and the pain were still present, Kinich’s presence enveloped you in a feeling of security. He did not promise that everything would be fine, but he did promise that he would be there, ready to accompany you in every step you took to heal.

You both stayed like that, sharing the silence under Natlan’s starry sky, and you understood that in Kinich you had found a refuge.

Scaramouche

Where he comforts you after you've told him your family's expectations of you.

The mood in Sumeru was gloomy, reflecting the weight of your thoughts. You had had a heated argument with your family earlier that morning, a conflict that seemed to repeat itself in an endless cycle. It was differences of expectations, impossible demands, and a constant comparison that drained every particle of peace you tried to build. You didn't know how to explain to them your desire to live on your own terms, without the weight of their expectations on your shoulders.

You found yourself walking aimlessly through the city, trying to clear your mind. However, a familiar shadow appeared in your path, and looking up, you saw Scaramouche, arms crossed and a disdainful expression you knew all too well.

"Are you done ghosting around town?" he asked in his usual scathing tone, but something in his eyes revealed more concern than contempt.

You sighed, trying to keep your composure, but the tension in your chest was too strong.

“If you’ve only come to make fun of it, then you might as well leave it,” you replied in a dry tone, hoping your words would drive him away.

To your surprise, Scaramouche didn’t move. Instead, he stared at you intently, as if he were trying to decipher the shadows behind your words.

“I’m not here to make fun of you, fool,” he murmured, his tone softening only slightly. “Though sometimes it seems like you don’t even understand what you need.”

His words made your barriers crumble, and without knowing how, you found yourself telling him everything. The overwhelming expectations, the rejection of your decisions, the constant criticism that felt like daggers in your heart. As you spoke, Scaramouche’s expression changed, a mix of contained rage and dark compassion that only he seemed to possess.

“So… you can’t live up to them and they know it,” he finally said, after listening to you in silence. “Why do you have to mold yourself in their image?”

You looked at him in shock, tears threatening to spill out. It was the first time someone had said it out loud, like a truth you hadn’t allowed yourself to believe.

“Because… they’re my family. I’m supposed to make them happy.”

Scaramouche snorted, his gaze turning icy.

“That’s absurd,” he muttered, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Family shouldn’t be a burden that crushes you. They don’t have the right to decide how you live. If they truly loved you, why would they hurt you this way?”

His words were harsh, but they carried a sincerity that cut through every one of your doubts. You moved a little closer, seeking refuge in his presence. Though Scaramouche rarely showed affection to you, eben if he was your boyfriend, this time he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let you lean on him, his hand resting gently on your back as the weight of your tears fell silently.

“You don’t need to live up to their expectations to be worth something. If they don’t see it, it’s their problem, not yours,” he murmured, almost in a whisper. “And I… well, I’m the last one who should say this, but… you’re not alone in this fight.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt like someone understood you without judging you. Scaramouche, with his reticent nature and his own history of pain, knew more than he let on.

And in that instant, you realized that even if your family would never understand your choices, maybe you had someone at your side who could support you without asking for anything in return.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Sweet Girl

Simon’s teammates began to show up more and more in your everyday life. They didn’t just come for kisses either. Kyle began to drag you to a new coffee shop every time he came back to town. He would pay despite your instance to cover the drinks at least some of the time. He loved to talk books with you.

He introduced you to his favorite used bookstore, a magical place that seemed to go on forever. In the back of the building, he showed you a narrow staircase and enticed you to follow him down. What you found was a dim, but not dusty basement. Shelves with flopped over books and copies of National Geographic from 1920, still with the classic yellow border, dotted the space. The basement seemed to run the length of the deep building.

At one point Kyle slipped from view as you stepped into a concrete room taller than you by at least twice. When you turn around, he had disappeared. Starting to panic you focused on working your way back through the dim to the staircase.

You made a horror movie actress proud when two hands shot out of the dark to grab you. Kyle laughs as he pulls you close, dropping a kiss on your hair. He apologizes repeatedly when you start to cry.

“Fuck, I hate scary things, Kyle,” you push away from his chest.

He does not let go. Fucker uses all those muscles to keep you tight to him as he rocks back and forth and apologizes again.

“I’m so, so sorry sweet girl. I won’t do it again. Now I know that scary movies and haunted houses are out of the picture.”

“Better fucking not be in the picture. Scary movies are fine if I can laugh through them, but absolutely no haunted house. I refuse to almost catch another case,” when you pull back from his hold you pat the tear stains on his chest. Mementos to remind him not to do it again.

“You almost caught a case from a haunted house?” Kyle looks both disturbed and intrigued.

“You see, haunt actors don’t like getting hit. I mean, fair, I don’t either. I had a bad ex that dragged me to one, despite repeatedly telling him not to do it. He left me in the haunted house, and I punched out of fear. They pulled me out the side and I got stuck in the manager’s office until the police could come and sort everything out. Broke up with that bastard and caught a ride home from the officer.”

Kyle looks more and more concerned for you the longer you go on.

“But you went to a scary movie with Roach?” He sputters.

“First off we laughed through that whole movie and when the scary bits did happen he let me hide in his shoulder.” You stick a finger in his face, “And secondly why do all of you call him such a mean name? I don’t get it! Gary is a perfectly good name.”

Kyle leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of the finger you pointed at him with. You glower at him.

“It’s not a mean name sweet girl. Gary has made it out of so many impossible situations people started calling him Roach, because he’s damn near unkillable. That man could have a building dropped on him and only come out with a broken collar bone. It’s a sign of respect that he has a call sign.”

“Fine,” you narrow your eyes at him, “But I will still be calling him Gary. I don’t like bugs. Is that why all the guys call you Gaz?”

“Yep, and why Johnny is called Soap, and Simon goes by Ghost. Well, Simon goes by Ghost for a lot of reasons but a call sign is one of them.”

Wiping your hand over your face once more to remove any leftover fear you hold out your other one to Kyle.

“I feel like you owe me for making me cry.”

He takes it, sliding his fingers between yours.

“How about I buy you a book?” He cajoles.

Narrowing your eyes at him as you follow him out of the dark you counter.

“How about three?”

“Make it two and you have yourself a deal,” he tossed back a devastating smile.

“Fine. You are forgiven.”

Using your interlaced fingers Kyle pulled you close dropping a kiss on your lips.

“Good, would hate to have you mad at me, sweet girl.”

You didn’t know how to feel about the pet name but let it ride for now.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[definitelynotshouting]

Hi I’m obsesseddddd with your hunger au and after reading the lore doc and the fic I have a couple questions if you don’t mind

Ok first off this isn’t really a question and more like a “huh wouldn’t that be fucked up” thought but uhhhh. So og grian was pretty much trapped in a box and constantly watched while the larva developed right. Did the watchers ever feed off him? Bc I imagine being trapped and just waiting to die wouldn’t be great for your emotional state. Or would they not since he is hosting the larva and that point so they can’t/wont feed on a host? Oh also you said that he made the deal to become a watcher while under duress. I imagine that duress could easily be heightened by some hungry watchers. And having your brain lightly fried would probably make you more susceptible to agreeing to a fucked up situation

And for my second question I was curious how aware the general populace/the hermits are of watchers?? Like are they a known thing and ppl just aren’t sure how they work or what. Because the rescue group had to puzzle out that grian was benefiting from their suffering in some way, but pearl seemed to have some idea of what grian was with the whole “eating our brains” bit so I’m curious what levels of knowledge they’re operating with here

Anyways thanks for reading my silly little thoughts on your amazing au!! It’s so fun I’m having such a good time with the horrible things happening

Im so glad you like the fic, anon!! :DD im always so touched when people tell me they enjoyed it enough to read the lore behind it-- gods ive gotta update that, there are a sizeable amount of newer asks i havent added to it yet, plus my beloved friend @/corvidaearts made a proper carrd for it on my birthday that i plan on replacing the google doc with!!! Just, uh, as soon as i add aforementioned posts dkcjsjdjfj

That would be super fucked up if they fed on him while he was trapped, OUGHHHH.... id say in canon probably not, because feeding off of one Player is really really dangerous for them, and Grian was now a host for their experiment to see if they could bring their population back up. If anything, nobody touched or interacted with him beyond the bare minimum it took to keep him safe from any potential respawns, and it was likely only the colony elders who even had direct access to him in the first place. THAT BEING SAID..... GODS THATS FUCKED UP I LOVE IT. And, well, i suppose one Watcher did feed on him.. which was Grian himself, as he emerged from his Player cocoon. Player!Grian's final moments of agony and terror were amplified to the max as his Watcher-self's very first meal, and that haunts Grian a lot late at night if he lets himself think about it

The duress he was placed under to become a host in the first place involved a significant amount of heightened emotional leverage though, thats for sure. One of these days i need to map out how exactly that went down, but i know that it involved an offer that was not actually an offer, several lies through omission, intimidation tactics that spanned the entirety of Evo in the first place, and using Grian's own fear-- both of them, and for his friends-- against him. Real fucked up situation all around 😔😔😔😔

General populace does not know much if anything about the Watchers!! The Watchers are, aside from this one colony, pretty much extinct; even before that, they relied quite a lot on camouflage and secrecy to keep their presence from being discovered, both by their prey and by the Seekers that hunted them.

Some very very old Players might know whispers of information-- rumors from the tail end of a game of telephone, as it were. And there are for sure a few individuals here and there who know of them due to personal experience (including the entire Evo crew, which was ofc a special case), but because Player information is not centralized in any capacity in this universe, the vast majority of Players have zero knowledge that Watchers even exist, let alone what they do and how they feed.

Pearl, with her previous knowledge and experience with Watchers and how they operated while involved with the Evo server, made some really good educated guesses about how Grian works and what's going on with him. And ofc everyone on Hermitcraft, plus all the lifers, knows that Grian at the very least can manipulate Player emotions to an extreme degree-- putting those context clues together, you can piece together quite a few connections. She doesn't have the full picture, but at this point in time she's basically figured out a good chunk of it. The rest will have to come from Grian himself >:]

[ak319]

Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

《Beloved's Veil》

PART VI

➺ Part V

"Rahim, please… say something," you tried again, your patience stretched thin by the gnawing worry in your chest. This was the third time you'd asked, and with each unanswered attempt, your resolve to get to the bottom of things only grew stronger. If he didn’t speak soon, you were prepared to go straight to his family’s home yourself.

"That's it." You rose to leave, but before you could take a step, a small hand gripped your sleeve, halting you. Rahim’s expression was haunted, his eyes wide and pleading. His hand trembled, clutching you like you were his only anchor in a sea of terror. The fear in his gaze didn’t diminish your anxiety, it only sharpened it, tightening like a vice around your heart.

"You’ve got to say something, kiddo," you murmured, leaning close so he wouldn’t feel pressured. "You’re making me worry here."

Finally, after a silence that stretched unbearably long, Rahim’s voice came, barely a whisper. "U… uncle…"

You leaned in, gentle and steady. "Habib?" you prompted softly. "Are you talking about him? Yes, tell me, Rahim… what happened?"

He hesitated, the words hovering at the edge of his lips, but then, as quickly as he’d started, he fell silent again, retreating into himself. His eyes shifted away, shadowed and unreadable, as if something unspeakable lay hidden just beneath the surface.

You let out a quiet sigh, knowing that pressing him further wouldn’t help. He needed time. Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, you signaled Odai to come closer. "Odai, stay with him," you instructed, casting a final, lingering glance at Rahim

"B-but what about you, ma'am? Where are you off to?" Odai's voice trembled slightly as he watched you prepare to leave.

"To his house, with Maha," you replied firmly, glancing at the clock on your desk. It was 7:30 a.m., too early for peace but not for action.

Odai shifted uneasily. "I should go with you, and Maha can stay here."

You silenced him with a look, then took the gun from your locker, its cold weight in your hand grounding you with the resolve you needed. "I can handle it, Odai. Just watch over him and call me if anything changes."

Odai nodded reluctantly, his eyes flickering to the unconscious Rahim. And with that, you left, setting out with Maha, who looked more unnerved than usual, her hands twisting in her lap as you drove.

"What if… what if it’s related to the story I told you, ma’am?” Maha's voice was small, hesitant. “And from what you’ve told me about Rahim, and everything… what if Habib’s… possessed again? I warned you, didn’t I? It’s not right to get tangled with him, or that family. The way his brother insulted you…” Her hands clenched in her lap, remembering that day, the bitter words she still hadn’t forgotten.

“Maha, we talked about this.” You kept your voice calm, though tension simmered beneath. “Habib needs help. This… this might be something worse, yes. God, I have no idea what we’re going to find there or how deep this goes. But if this is connected to him, I’m stepping in, Basim’s objections be damned.”

Maha looked at you with renewed determination. Her gaze shifted to the gun secured in its holder beside you, her expression hardening with resolve.

“Yes, ma’am.”

═════ ◈ ═════

When you reached the house, the air was thick with an unsettling silence, the kind that seeped into your bones. There was something about it that felt wrong, like an invisible void, as if you had come to collect the fragments of something lost. The house, once a familiar place of comfort, now felt like a hollow shell. You shook off the feeling, attributing it to the paranoia caused by Rahim's cryptic behavior and the events of the night.

"Ma’am, he... he’s very sick. He wouldn’t stop saying your name..." Kadir's voice faltered as he stood beside Habib's bed. You looked down at the unconscious man, your grip tightening on his hand as his body trembled. His mouth was dry, letting out soft, pitiful whimpers that seemed to grow quieter, calmer, as if he found some semblance of peace in your presence.

"What did the doctor say?" You asked, keeping your voice steady, despite the deepening sense of dread gnawing at you.

"He has a high fever, and he's under extreme stress..." Kadir responded his voice a mixture of concern and exhaustion. You glanced at Dana, who was sitting beside Habib, her eyes filled with a motherly worry that was almost suffocating. She didn't need to say anything, her gaze spoke volumes, each one filled with unspoken fear and you couldn't take it anymore.

"I’ve had enough." You stood abruptly, your voice hardening with resolve. "I’m taking him with me. And nobody here is going to stop me." Your stance was unwavering, your eyes locked with Kadir's, whose face paled at the weight of your words.

Kadir seemed to hesitate, but the look in your eyes made it clear you wouldn't be moved. He nodded slowly, his expression resigned, knowing full well what you meant.

"I just..." you continued, turning your attention to them, "Do you both know where Rahim is?"

The couple exchanged a glance, confusion crossing their faces. "Rahim? He must be in his room... You want me to call him?" Dana’s voice was tentative, unsure of the sudden shift in the air.

"No, no." You cut her off. "He’s not in his room. He’s in my bungalow." You watched as realization hit them like a wave, their faces draining of color as you explained the strange events that had unfolded, the boy's frantic running, the collapse, and the chilling connection to Habib. Their expressions grew ashen, the weight of the situation settling over them like a suffocating fog.

Kadir blinked in disbelief, his voice a low whisper. "I better go... inform Basim of this."

"No." You turned, cutting him off once again, your tone sharp. "Not until I leave with Habib. I am not in the mood to deal with him right now. Trust me, you don’t want me to." Your eyes flickered to the unconscious figure of Habib, then back to Maya, your resolve unshakable.

Maya, who had been quietly observing the situation, nodded in agreement, her eyes meeting yours with understanding. She didn’t need to ask any more questions. The decision had already been made.

"In fact, you both are coming with me, I think... Rahim might not mind it." You said with a touch of certainty, even though your mind raced with the implications of the situation. The bruises you had seen on the child’s body were unmistakable, and they burned in your mind. You were certain they were from Basim. You had seen his cruelty before, and this was no different. A gut feeling told you the two were somehow connected, and the thought churned uneasily in your stomach.

"Um, yes, definitely." Kadir’s voice quivered slightly, his worry for his grandson and son making him agree without much resistance.

"Good," you responded briskly, trying to push the anxiety down.

The air between the five of you was tense, the weight of unspoken words hanging like a heavy cloud as you made your way back to the bungalow. Your eyes were drawn to Habib, his limp form resting against his father in the backseat, his chest rising and falling weakly. The image of him like that, vulnerable, fragile, almost lost, was a stain in your mind that wouldn't fade.

By the time you arrived at the bungalow, the place felt more like a sanctuary and a prison in equal measure. The heavy silence from earlier still clung to the house, but now you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Dr Ali was already there, pacing in front of the door, looking visibly tense. He was here to check on Rahim and Habib.

═════ ◈ ═════

it had been three days since the atmosphere in the bungalow had turned so heavy, each day thick with the silence of unspoken fears and unanswered questions. Habib, thank God, was showing signs of improvement, but he was still too weak, refusing to eat and constantly haunted by nightmares. The only time he seemed to find peace was when you were by his side. His vulnerability clung to you like a weight, and no matter how many times you tried to shake the unease off, it lingered.

In the other room, Rahim was still as quiet as ever. He hadn’t spoken a word since you brought him back, and every day that passed without him opening up felt like another failure, a missed opportunity to get to the root of whatever was haunting him. Still, his grandparents’ presence did seem to calm him in some way, though you couldn’t help but wonder if that was enough. You prayed for his voice every night, hoping he would say something, anything, to give you a clue about what he was going through.

Kadir had told you that Basim and his wife had gone to visit some relatives for a wedding, which felt... odd, to say the least. How could a wedding be more important than their son’s condition? And why hadn’t they been told about what was happening? Kadir, of course, insisted that it was better they didn’t know yet, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it. His reasoning didn’t sit right with you. And then, there was Samir and his family, who had moved out of the village with no warning. Something didn’t add up. Why would they leave so suddenly, just as things were escalating?

Maha’s voice broke through your thoughts, her tone tentative but insistent. "There is... I just... feel fishy, ma'am. I mean, all the Rahim fiasco and how Kadir insists on you marrying-"

You held up your hand, cutting her off, your voice steady but carrying a weight of finality. "It was my decision, Maha. I want it to be done."

"But, why, ma'am... why so fast? Shouldn't we wait for things to settle?"

You let out a slow breath, your fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup as you gathered your thoughts. "Maha, I can't have some man in my bungalow..." You trailed off, hoping she understood the gravity of what you were saying. "Y'know, try to understand."

Maha was silent for a moment, her eyes dropping to the floor as she processed your words. Then, without a word, she nodded, her expression softening with understanding.

"I have... talked to my parents," you continued, your voice low but resolute. "And they agreed. Fortunately. Tomorrow, go find the cleric. Bring him, and in the afternoon, the ceremony has to be done with." Your parents were shocked to hear your sudden announcement but as you kept the details about the current situation mostly vague they agreed, somewhat happy and given our urgency they agreed to be on a video call during the ceremony. It was going to be a small one, Habib's parents, Rahim and you both.

"Yes, ma'am." Her tone was firm, her eyes momentarily drifting to the hallway. You followed her gaze, only to catch a glimpse of Rahim standing by the corner of the hallway before he quickly disappeared out of sight. You sat there for a moment, your heart thudding against your chest as you absorbed the subtle shift in the room

"Rahim..." You stood up, your mind heavy with worry, and moved toward the hallway. You quickly were on your feet and stalked in the direction, Maha, following behind.

With a gentle knock, you entered the room, your eyes falling on the boy sitting quietly on the bed. His back was turned, half of his body facing the door, but his posture was stiff, unnatural, like someone trying to brace against something they couldn’t see or understand. The atmosphere around him was thick with tension, his usual mischievous energy nowhere to be found.

"Um, Maha..." you said softly, and she nodded before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone with him.

You stepped forward slowly, the floor creaking faintly under your weight as you sat down beside him. For a long moment, you said nothing. It seemed there was nothing to say, no words that could bridge the silence between you both. You just sat there, letting your presence speak for itself.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his voice broke the stillness, soft and hesitant. "You... are going to marry...?"

At first, you were unsure whether it was a question or a statement, the words hanging in the air like a fragile thread. You glanced at him, his face still angled down, avoiding your gaze, but the emptiness in his eyes struck you hard.

"Yes... I am... isn't that a good thing?" You gave him a soft smile, one that didn’t reach your heart, but you tried. Gently, you reached out and rubbed his back, trying to offer comfort, though you knew he wasn’t the same boy who had always bounced around, full of life and questions. "You getting this cool aunt." You chuckled to lighten the mood.

But his response was far from what you expected.

"Don't."

"You...don't...want me to marry Habib?" He stayed quiet. Once again.

"Rahim…" you whispered, though you knew he probably wasn’t listening. But you couldn’t stop yourself. "Talk to me, please."

"They...they...always...just didn't let me tell you. I wanted to." His leg started bouncing and you immediately held his hand, the other on his leg to calm him. "Take breaths, I am here, you are safe. No body is going to do anything. So, talk freely, and fully. Whoever it is about. Even if it's Habib, if he's done something to you, tell me that too. I won't say a word to you, or anyone about this to anyone. Even if it is about... the thing regarding your uncle being possessed and all...I know the story...Habib himself told me, so don't think of me as a stranger. Alright?"

He nodded and wiped a tear. He took moments to clam down and with a heavy breath continued. "My...uncle...he..." He breathed in a breath.

"Was never possessed."

“He’s known for his extraordinary beauty. I have not seen him myself though. So, up until he was about sixteen, everything seemed fine. But then, he suddenly vanished from his friends’ lives and stopped attending school. Despite the family’s best efforts to conceal the issue, it eventually came to light that he was... possessed."

"When I was younger—around sixteen—I... went through something. Something I can’t fully explain, even to this day."

"It was like... something else had control over me. I was sick...and I was dangerous. I hurt people--people I loved, hurt myself too. My family didn’t speak about it much after it was over. They believed it was better left forgotten. But I can’t forget. I’ve tried to move on, but..."

No...those...those are all stories? He gave you and himself to catch a breath then continued.

"When I was a child," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "I thought...what everyone thought that...indeed Uncle was. He was praised for his beauty, and my dad... hated him for it. Every chance he got, he'd tear into him, beat him, humiliate him. It only made Uncle more closed off. He stopped going out, hid from everyone, saying he was cursed by his own looks." Rahim’s voice cracked, his gaze distant as if seeing those memories unfold all over again.

The words tumbled out of him, fast and desperate, as if he had held them in for too long. "He started saying someone was using black magic against him, someone in the family. And my dad, he... he enjoyed it. He fueled those fears and made Uncle believe he was haunted and cursed because he was angry at Uncle for rejecting my aunt's hand and just y'know jealous. Everyone around started to believe it too because he started to act...like...he was. It became this... rumour that swallowed him whole. Even the cleric knew it wasn’t true, he told everyone but no one listened. And my grandfather, even he started believing it."

Rahim’s shoulders shook, his hands clenching into fists as he struggled to contain his grief. "We live in a village where nobody talks about mental illness. People don’t understand, they don’t want to understand. They just accepted that something was wrong with him and left him to rot. But I knew… I knew it wasn’t magic. I researched on my own, in school, and I just can't figure out what's wrong with him but I know there is....there is something psychological. I wanted to help him, I tried to, but nobody would listen."

Tears streamed down his face now, his voice breaking as the words poured out like a dam finally bursting. "Dad would beat me whenever I tried to bring it up. And Grandfather who has always been helpless against my dad always said that he will be fine once he gets married… he just wants to marry Uncle off because he thinks marriage will fix him like that’s some kind of miracle cure. Especially getting him married to you.... someone of your status. But it’s all... it’s all bullshit! Marriage won’t solve anything! The medicines he takes are just mostly sleeping pills and--and some herbal stuff my grandfather gives him which are not what he needs! He needs a proper treatment...proper treatment."

Rahim’s outburst ended in a sob, his chest heaving as he broke down completely. He was no longer the reserved, cautious boy you knew, he was vulnerable, raw, and heartbroken, carrying the weight of years of pain and helplessness on his young shoulders.

"When you came here and even better, took interest in my Uncle, I thought that maybe marriage wouldn't be bad because he would be free and you would get him treated, I would tell you about it myself when the time is right. It was...about to happen but...again my Dad...he ruined it, I thought it was over, you were out of his life, but I still hoped, he loves you so much and I know you do too so...I was ready to help my uncle run away but.."

You were too shocked to even ask him why he had stopped speaking and simply let out a questioning hum.

"My mum and dad… they… they tried to…"

"Tried to what?" You were both startled by the sudden ringtone of your phone. Seeing Odai's name on the screen, you quickly answered, bracing yourself against the possibility of more bad news.

"Ma'am, I checked the footage from the village gate. Samir left last night with his family around 4 a.m. But Basim and his wife… they never actually left the village."

Your eyes widened. "What? Are you saying… they’re still here?"

"Yes, ma'am," Odai confirmed before you ended the call. You turned back to Rahim, whose face had gone pale, frozen in place as if dreading the implications of this revelation.

"Rahim…" you said slowly, your voice soft yet urging. "They tried to what? And… where are they?"

(AN: Did you guys expect that ʘ‿ʘ? Do comment and lemme know! Also, I know I should have mentioned it earlier but the story is set in 1990's due to which especially in the village people don't use much tech, like wifi and all cuz not everybody has computers etc that's why Rahim did whatever research he could in his school's library and computer.)

[cynthiav06]

I was just having a Percy jackson Brainrot and I was curious about something...

Considering the fact that Most Demi-gods Rarely ever Live that Long it makes me wonder just How Dark the Percy Jackson Series is

Like despite casting Neglectful Gods Aside, I can't imagine wanting To be a Demi-God due to the fact of how much Danger your in the moment you realize your a Demi-God

Percy said that once you figure out your a Halfblood it's only a matter of time before *They* Figure it out too and they'll come for you

I'm guessing he's talking about The monsters but even if he's not I can't imagine wanting to be a Demi-God cause I Genuinely wouldn't be able to handle being in that much Danger

And worst imagine how your mortal parent would feel, well that is if they care about you enough to care

It's just thinking about some of the things that were in the books it really made me think about the amount of Danger the Demi-Gods are in just really thinking about it

I mean it is the main premise of the Percy Jackson and the Olympian series, not to mention the opening words of the book.

It's also the theme that haunts the narrative of Heroes of Olympus or any other sequel after that.

It's the driving force behind Luke's actions, behind Percy's actions and beliefs, it's literally the motto of being a demigod.

It's the reason Kronos was able to rise with an army, it's the reason why Percy loathes all if not most gods.

Because Demigods are stuck in an all loss system. Choose the Olympians and suffer through neglect and quiet oppression, living and dying by whims of ignorant gods, or choose rebellion and be exterminated like pests. Do nothing and let yourself be molded by the gods into a dutiful child and even then death awaits you at the mouth of monsters.

Even having to suffer many abuses from their mortal parents at times and lack of any safeguarding system or protective group.

No matter what bargain they pick, the demigods will always get the shorter end of the stick. It's inevitable.

Even Poseidon, despite how greatly he loves Percy and how dearly he favors him, still tells him immediately after they meet that a heroes fate is always tragic. That even a god cannot undo it. That he, a god, is entirely and utterly sorry for the fate he has subjected Percy too. That it's his greatest mistake because he has doomed his son to die a painful death.

Hermes foresaw to some extent what would become of Luke and did nothing for he could do nothing.

It's why Hades promptly had to leave his children to their fate after their hiding place was uncovered. It's also why he could even if, in a fit of anger, dare imply that Bianca would have been of better use to him than Nico to Nico's face.

It's why Zeus, the supposed strongest Olympian (I have doubts), couldn't prevent Thalia's death and could only trap her essence in a tree. It's also why he has the audacity to offer up Jason, an actual child he sired as some sort of collateral and apology gift to Hera.

An object to use and throw. That's what gods view demigods as. They can always sire more, at least that's what they believe.

Even Athena, enraged and blinded by her hate for Romans, had no problem sending her children (who are quite literally a manifestation of her own essence) on a death quest to retrieve her statue of power, not a few times but for countless centuries, with no remorse not even when she regained her sanity as Athena.

Even Chiron is but all too happy to send demigods to die to fulfill the whims of gods.

It's also why the series should end in Percy and the two camps overthrowing Olympus. Maybe not all the gods but Zeus definitely. A new order. Maybe they team up with the so-called minor gods (I think the title is derogatory and an inaccurate term), and Percy will need to ascend (let's admit it, that's unavoidable. He is more god than mortal at this point. But maybe just maybe he will not become a god but another type of immortal, something different and stronger. (Cause he had the power to manipulate and take control of the domain of one of the protogenoi and use it to overpower the said protogenoi in their own place of power).

Either way, your ask is literally the entire premise of everything, small or big, that takes place in the books. It is also why Rick should commit to the idea of toppling down the system that enables such a thing.

I have no hopes for Riordan but in my mind, that's what Percy and the Seven and all the demigods from both Camps did with the help of minor gods and even Atlantis [Poseidon won't say no, not to this, even he knows the extent of Zeus's depravity, of his own past actions. He will help, and so will Hades. After all that's been done to his children. I think Tartarus was the final straw for both Poseidon and Hades. After that, they would do anything to protect their children. The true canon really, but Rick is too much of a coward to write it. ]

Sorry, I just had to rant. As you can tell, I have thoughts and feelings on this. Quite a lot of both.

[uglly-rodent]

Don't make my love your tragic Juliet Take me away...

That's how I feel

Tell Mom and Dad goodnight Wish them sweet dreams, at least It's bedtime for grownups

Choking on captivating caramel Entwining my bare, bashful legs How far can we venture tonight?

Be gentle, don't bite I still dislike bitter tastes Having been spoiled on Mom's homemade sweets

When there's something you don't know It's only natural to want to find out Show me everything And just for you, I'll show you mine too…

I'm a Cinderella, yearning for you I'll come running in my school uniform Oh magic, please stop the hands of time Before the villain interferes

I'm a Juliet who wants to run away But don't call me by that name We have to live happily ever after Otherwise where's the fun?

Tell me, will you choose life?

I applied a little too much mascara But I'll be a good girl when tomorrow comes So please let me off the hook for now

The boundary line is just this black lace And there's no one to guard it today so If you cross it, how far are you going to go?

Enough you bite me, enough to make me hurt I'm the one you fell in love with, right? But Dad doesn't seem to like you that much

You say you're holding out your hands for my sake But isn't that a collar you're holding? Just take me away, oh my Romeo Far enough away that they scold us

The bells are going to sound and Cinderella has to leave her glass shoe Obviously, you have to look for her quick Or she'll be haunted with nightmares

Definitely, even she did it like that-- She lied when she said she "accidentally" dropped it That's right; same with me Since I want to be loved by you more

Look, I am right here

Won't you peek into my heart? See how it brims with desires? I've got room for more; pack my heart until it's full Until it fills up the place where you are

But what would be the point?

They say happiness comes in small packages If something doesn't change You're going to end up hating me

But Mom and Dad are the same as ever, they just want more You're right, I should be honest The axe I dropped was one of gold

Cinderella told one too many lies And got herself swallowed by the wolf If something doesn't change He's going to end up eating me too

Come to my rescue, before it's too late!

[imnotaman]

Nightmare

Penelope woke up in a strange place, a room in pitch black, she was about to grab her sword when she realized it wasn't beside her where she always left it. A voice called behind her

"Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you?"

Him. How had he gotten to her?

she looked behind her back and got into her fighting stance, protecting both hands, glow and behold; there he was

"Ares!"

"Have you forgotten to turn off your heart? This is not you."

Why was he saying this. Did he just want to haunt her with the fact he'll never be her Mentor again? Why did he have to be like this.

Ares glitched, he seemed to be shifting onto another form. There were 2 options; either Penelope's dreams decided to be Extra Bitchy to her that day, or ARES decided to be Extra Bitchy to her that day.

"I see you changing from how i've designed you."

The walls began to shift, growing, shrinking, anything you could think the room would change to that.

"Have you forgotten your Purpose? Let me remind you."

She was somewhere else now. The Cyclops cave. Why the hell was Ares doing this to her. Soldiers were managing to run away, one of many was right behind her

"Circe." She looked as beautiful as the day she'd lost her. It took so long to realize the Cyclops was about to club at Circe, and she was blissfully unaware.

Penelope screamed out her name, any kind of warning! But it was too late

"600 Lives to take"

2 more people hit.

"600 lives I'll break"

4 in a single hit.

"And when I kill you then my deed is over."

Hit.

"You're dying here and now."

Hit.

"Escape is not allowed."

Hit.

"You won't live through this day so die."

Hit.

"Die."

The scenery changed, causing a sense of Nausia in Penelope, she couldn't see much as she was trying not to Puke. All she could hear were the sounds of the ocean and the wind in her hair

"And now it is finally time to say goodbye today you die~"

No.

"Unless, of course, you apologise."

Please.

"For my son's pain and all his cries"

Penelope looked up, maybe this time it could be different. Maybe Ares would be merciful enough to show what could have happened instead

"Amphitrite, we meant no harm," she began, her voice shaking. "we only hurt him to disarm him! We took no pleasure in his pain. We only wanted to escape~"

Ctimene was beside her, holding her shoulder as if she knew what was coming.

"The line between. Naiveté and Hopefulness is almost invisible"

FUCK.

"So close your heart"

There had to be a way to save them

"The world is dark."

There had... there had to!

"And ruthlessness is mercy--"

Fuck.

"Die."

The scene shifted again. She was in the Underworld.

"Waiting...."

Why. Why did he want her to suffer!?

"Waiting..."

Penelope turned, she knew who that was

"...Dad." it wasn't a question. Not this time at least. Her father's face began to shift

"Waiting... Penelope when you come home I'll be waiting..."

A tear couldn't help but fall down Penelope's eyes, at that point she had just started crying.

"Even if you're the last thing I see I'll be-"

"I-I'm right here Dad! Can't you see me? I'm"

"Waiting..."

A ghasp escaped her lips, why did Ares want this. "I took too lo-"

"--you on the brink of death"

Tireseas.

"I see you draw your final breath. I see a man who gets to make it home alive."

Penelope could only whisper what the Prophet said, "But it's no longer me..."

Penelope felt numb, she could only cry and beg with the same words she had spoken all those years ago

"This can't be... we've suffered and sailed through the toughest of Hells! Now you tell us our efforts for nothing!?"

The Prophet continued, "I see your Palace covered in red... Faces of Women who long thought you dead." She got closer to the Prophet, angry. She was so close home. It was all worthless!?

"I see your man with a girl who is haunting." Who. Who was it!? She got even closer to Tireseas "a girl with a trail of bodies..."

She grabbed him by the neck in anger

"WHO!?"

The scene changed, a boat. Directly inside of a cave, eyes glowing, 6 torches behind Penelope, she only had a single order.

"ROW FOR YOUR LIVES"

"DROWN IN YOUR SORROWS AND FEARS"

One.

"CHOKE ON YOUR BLOOD AND YOUR TEARS"

Two.

"BLEED TILL YOU'VE RUN OUT OF YEARS"

Three.

"WE MUST DO WHAT IT TAKES TO SURVIVE"

I know.

"GIVE UP YOUR HONOR AND FAITH"

Four.

"LIVE UP YOUR LIFE AS A WRAITH"

Five.

"DIE IN THE BLOOD WHERE YOU BATHE"

Six.

"WE MUST DO WHAT IT TAKES TO SURVIVE"

The figure appeared in front of Penelope, this never happened the last time Penelope want through this, Scylla's eyes grew red. Ares was in control of this.

"We are the same you and. I~"

"Choose."

Thunder appeared behind her. No. Please. ARES

"Someone's gonna die today and you have got the final say~ choose."

Penelope looked up at Zeus, praying to both him and Ares

"Please don't make me do this. D-Don't make me do this."

She didn't hear anything for a while, until Ctimene's voice caught her off guard

"Captain?"

Penelope looked up at her friend, she ran to hug Ctimene, which seemed to catch her by suprise

"I have to see them."

"B-but we'll die."

"...I know."

And with that the scene changed with a shock of Thunder, this was a different place, she was in a Palace. Ithaca? Why was she there

"Cause I'm stuck with your stories..."

That voice. She knew it all too well after the last to days.

"But no clue who you are"

Telemachus?"

"And no idea if you're dead or just too far~"

"TELEMACHUS!?"

Penelope fell down, cowering like a pathetic child. This was how she gave up.

"Somebody tell me."

The voice of the child she never met.

"Come and give me a sign"

Her real child.

"If I fight those monsters is it you I'll find?"

A monster. That's all she was. 600 men who died under her command. A monster to both Man and God. Why. Why couldn't she move

"I still intend to make it so you don't Lower your Guard"

Ares.

"Don't forget that you're a warrior, do not tear yourself apart"

ARES.

"You are a warrior of the heart"

Penelope stood up, ready to tackle him at any moment, she ran as quickly as Possible and landed a punch, he didn't even flinch.

"Don't disappoint me"

She really had nobody. Her friends were all dead, Amphitrite would probably drown all of Ithaca, and the people she cared about weren't even from her universe

Solana would never actually care. Telemachus only likes her because him own mom's a γιος της σκύλας. And Odysseus is in her own place so she'd never see him.

It was worthless.

She was worthless

And the she woke up in the tent she set up in the tress, just outside the barrier of Ithaca.

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] // Online/Offline [C.S] - one hundred and one* | we’re both here now

  “Come on! Don’t you want to go on another one?” Y/n asked excitedly.

“I feel like six rollercoasters is enough,” you laughed.

“Come on,” she pleaded as she tried to drag you and Yunho back.

Yunho looked at you. You didn’t feel nauseous but you were maybe a little tired from having your body whipped around at high speeds for the past hour or so. 

“What if we do something that doesn’t involve a rollercoaster?” He asked.

Y/n huffed.

“The great Jeong Yunho doesn’t want to go on a rollercoaster?” San asked.

“Does he like them?” She asked.

“He’s an adrenaline junkie. He’s been bungee jumping five or six times. Dragged me along too.”

This was new to you, but it made sense. Whenever the two of you went biking in the summer, he’d always talk you into riding down the big hill in town. He rode down it with his feet off the pedals, filled with reckless abandon. You walked your bike down in a sensible manner.

Y/n turned to Yunho, smiling. “How was he?”

“Wooyoung made fun of him until he jumped.”

“Oh my god.” She laughed and punched at San’s arm lightly. “Hey, not all of us need to fling ourselves off of high places for fun.” San tried to catch her hands as she kitten punched at him, settling on letting her hit his hands while he laughed at her. He turned to you, “Right, t/n?” 

You nodded. Rollercoasters were enough for you and you didn’t really see the appeal in the first place.

Y/n rolled her eyes and sighed, thwarted by your help. She looked around for a moment before smiling. She pointed. “What about that?” 

Why did a theme park have a haunted house?

“It’s not even Halloween,” you protested.

“And? They have it all year round, silly.” She pulled on your wrist and, finding you immobile, pulled on Yunho’s instead. “Come on!” She said as she - only somewhat successfully - dragged him towards the building.

He looked back at you. 

You shrugged and followed them.

“Um, I’m not really a fan of haunted houses--” San started, but y/n ran over to him and pulled him away so she could whisper to him.

“Why can’t we hear it?” You asked Yunho.

“No idea.”

San seemed to agree with whatever she had whispered, but reluctantly. He stomped his foot at her and whined and she stomped hers back and widened her eyes at him, looking like she was warning him of something. He huffed and nodded. Very reluctantly. 

“Okay!” Y/n said as she pushed San in front of her. “Let’s go!”

The two of you looked at each other for a moment and Yunho shrugged. You sighed and both of you followed them into the haunted house, San protesting while y/n steered him through the door by the shoulders.

San screamed, a scream of terror. Y/n screamed too, a scream of delight.

San clung to her side. “I hate this kind of thing…” 

She laughed.

“You know I hate this kind of thing,” he whined.

“In my defense: I did not--”

“He does!” He wheeled around and pointed at Yunho.

Yunho smiled and shrugged at him. San whined again. A ghost jumped out from behind a faux prison door and shouted. San shouted and put y/n in front of him to lead the group. She laughed.

You couldn’t tell if she was just laughing at his antics - since he seemed so strong all of the times you met him - or if she was taking genuine delight in watching him be tortured.

The four of you turned a corner and walked into an area that looked like a schoolroom.

“Ooh,” y/n said. “Do you think it’ll be like Death Forest?” 

“Death Forest” San squeaked. “What’s that?”

“That Japanese movie where there’s like a school teacher or someone summoned a spirit for vengeance, and I couldn't really understand anything because I couldn’t find a translated version and youtube translate is shit--” she inhaled “--and the vengeance is like a giant, pale head that flies around and eats people, and the school girls have to try and stop it.”

“That doesn’t sound scary.”

“Hold on.” She stopped walking and took out her phone. “That’s what it looks like,” she showed him.

San’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the phone’s brightness and when they finally did: “Ahh! I hate it! Why’d you show me that?” He clung harder to her back.

“What’s it look like?” You asked.

She reached over his head and showed you and Yunho.

The two of you nodded and she pulled it away and went back to leading the group.

“It’s so stupid,” you whispered to Yunho.

He nodded with a chuckle.

As you proceeded down the hall - y/n leading with a grown Choi San clinging to her like a koala and you and Yunho following behind them - you could hear the crying of a young woman from a bathroom.

“No no no no no…” San whimpered.

“Let’s see if she needs help, Sannie.”

“No…”

Y/n leaned as far as she could, while San tried to pull her back.

“Oh toilet ghost, why are you crying?”

“No…”

“There’s no need to cry.” Yunho joined.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” y/n said to San.

“See?” Yunho said as the crying got quieter. “She’s going, she’s gone.”

The ghost screamed.

“She’s not gone.”

“I hate this! I hate this.” San whimpered.

Yunho sang, “Baby don’t cry~”

San swiped at him gently. “Don’t you dare sing EXO in here!”

Y/n laughed.

The crying had stopped around the time Yunho went to sing and it seemed like the ghost actress moved to whatever area she was supposed to be in next. Unless she was getting ready for a jump scare.

“See, San?” Y/n said, turning her head to him. “She’s gone.”

He picked up his head. “She’s gone?”

“We’re done.”

“We’re done? Can we leave now?”

“No, we still have the rest of the house.”

He whined and buried his head in the back of her neck. She laughed.

“Come on, we’ll do the rest and you’ll be such a brave boy for having done the whole thing.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

She chuckled and patted his hand.

Yunho came over to you with a smile and whispered, “He’s going to be such a brave by.”

You laughed. “He’s very delicate.”

“Apparently.”

“Was he like that when you went bungee jumping?”

He shook his head. “So much worse.”

You laughed again.

You moved around a corner together and found that the “hallway” had been blocked off by stacked up desks and chairs. 

“I guess we have to go through the classroom,” y/n said.

San whined. 

She chuckled. “You don’t even know if somethings going to happen.”

“It has to, we’re in a haunted house!”

She laughed. “Oh, so you are aware that this isn’t real.”

“Shut up.”

She laughed and opened the door. 

As the four of you went into the room and Yunho was the last to walk through, the door slid closed behind him with a slam. San screamed and you all jumped and turned to see the door was closed.

“Must be a mechanism with a motion sensor or something.” Yunho said.

“Or they have a camera and are doing it manually,” you offered.

He nodded as he looked around for a sensor or a camera.

“Mission for class 1-4…” y/n read.

San whined and she patted his hands reassuringly.

“...Move the matches and make the object reverse. You can only move two.”

On the board was two shapes made of large matches that had magnets stuck to them so they could stick to the blackboard. One was in the shape of a house and the other was in the shape of a chair.

“I guess they do have a camera somewhere,” Yunho mused as he looked at the shapes.

You nodded. You walked up to the house and moved a match, making it seem as if the house that was facing towards the right, was now facing towards the left.

“Ahh…” y/n nodded. “They want us to make it look like it’s facing in the other direction.” 

“One move,” Yunho nodded appreciatively.

“Easy peasy.” You said and sauntered back to where he was, to view the second one.

“I’ve always been dazzled by your intelligence.”

You chuckled as you folded your arms over your chest and looked at the second one. 

Yunho walked up to it and tried. He moved two matches, moved them back, moved to other ones, moved them back.

“How do you change the perspective of a chair when you can only move two matches and it has four legs?” He asked.

“There’s only three there though.”

He shook his head.

After five minutes of both of him working on it and being unsuccessful, the ghost started crying outside the door. San yelped, and y/n patted his head as he leaned on her shoulder.

At least someone was getting something out of it.

So you didn’t have to hear the ghost cry - or him whine - anymore, you walked over to Yunho to help him. After about five more minutes, there seemed to be many voices growling, wailing, screaming, probably a track they were playing on a hidden speaker-- to move you along because it was taking so long.

“Are we stupid?” Yunho asked with a laugh.

“Hey, I got the first one.” You countered.

He laughed.

You turned to y/n and her koala: “Do you have any input?”

She walked over, encumbered, and looked at it for a few seconds before shaking her head. San whimpered again and she ducked out of his grasp, squatting down quickly before sidestepping behind him and holding her hands on each side of his face and pointing it to the board. “All you do is build houses with the fewest amount of blocks needed. What’s the answer?”

He looked at the board, shell shocked for a second from her speed in shirking him off.

“Do it, doofus.” She laughed, giving him a shake.

He reached out, and moved two matches making up the back of the chair, changing the perspective of the seat from left to right.

“Ohhh…” You and Yunho said unanimously. You nodding at the answer, and him pointing to where the matches had been and now were. 

The spooky soundtrack stopped and the crying ghost ran off down the hall. 

“I didn’t know a ghost could have such heavy footsteps.” Yunho said.

You chuckled.

The sound of a hydraulic pump letting out air could be heard at the back of the room, right before the door popped away from the frame, sliding open slightly. 

“See? Look at how helpful you are when you’re not hiding in my hair,” y/n said as she patted San on the shoulder.

He frowned at her.

As y/n opened the door to continue your “Tour of Terror”, the ghost leaned into the room with a scream, making San jump, and hide behind y/n again.

“Stop!!” He screamed.

Y/n laughed.

“What are you, asserting dominance?” You asked. 

Y/n laughed again. “If only. Hey, maybe you can scare them off if you scream loud enough.”

“No, stop,” he whined. 

“Maybe you could work here.” Yunho said.

“Stop making fun of me…”

Y/n laughed and led the way out.

You walked the short walk down the hall and walked into the nurse’s office. There was a skeleton on the table.

“Ah!” San yelled.

“San, nothing has happened yet,” y/n laughed.

The door slammed shut and he screamed again. 

“Okay, I'll give you that one.”

You looked around for a moment and realized that a length of clear fishing wire was hanging in a loop from the ceiling above the table. Yunho walked over to the table, focused on the skeleton.

“Be careful, something’s going to fall.” You pointed up.

“Huh?” Yunho looked at you and then a plastic skull fell from the ceiling and swung. 

“AHH!” San screamed.

“Don’t your lungs hurt?” Y/n asked.

“Yes.”

She laughed.

Yunho tried to catch it, fumbling it before catching it, looked at it for a moment, and set it down in the body of the skeleton.

Yunho looked at you. “That surprised me.”

You rolled your eyes at him with a chuckle. 

He laughed at your reaction and looked around the room. A soundtrack of a stormy night with thunder started playing, as lights flashed outside the “window” to effect lightning.

“Look at the window. There’s little chests in front of it.”

You turned as he walked over and started opening chests.

“Don’t touch it!” San yelled. “Why do they have things to touch?”

“We have to see if there’s a note.” Yunho said.

“I don’t want a note!”

“Is there a note?” You asked, standing a foot or so away from him as he looked.

He turned to see where you were. “Are you scared?” 

“I’m not the one who wanted to come in here and he’s your roommate.”

He chuckled and went back to looking.

“And I solved one of the last problems, so I’ll get it when I’m up next in the rotation.”

He chuckled again. “They're all empty.”

San whined.

Yunho looked over at him and huffed a laugh before turning to you to get your attention. San was behind y/n with his chin in the crook of her neck, holding her shoulders with his hand as he stared blankly at the many small treasure chests on the counter. Yunho raised his eyebrows in San’s direction and said, louder than normal:

“I guess I have to open another one…”

“Nooo…”

“How are you the same guy that flung himself at my stalker?” Y/n asked.

“He wasn’t a ghost.” San pouted.

Yunho looked at you and you both chuckled.

You watched him open chest after chest before rolling your eyes: there were too many chests. You walked next to him and started opening them anyway. You wanted to get out of here today.

Hands slammed against the window, the ghost screamed, San screamed, y/n yelped and laughed, and you laughed in the ghost’s face by accident.

“See?” San yelled. “You think it’s scary too!”

Y/n laughed as San held onto her. “I only screamed because you scared me!” 

The ghost seemed to look right at you for a moment before pushing off the glass and accidentally pulling her wig off in the process. She ran into the darkness before you or Yunho could do anything.

“Should I apologize?” You asked Yunho.

He laughed.

“I didn’t mean to laugh at her, she just wasn’t scary.”

He looked out the window and opened the sliding door next to it, bent down, and stood up with the wig precariously balanced on his head.

You laughed. “I think that’s how you get lice.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t see her scratching.”

You laughed again. Idiot. And went back to opening chests.

“This isn’t even a fucking puzzle. It’s just opening boxes.”

“I know. This is the worst.”

“At least they’re having a good time,” you whispered as you gestured at y/n and San arguing; San adamantly insisting that she also thought it was scary, and y/n laughing like a hyena at his insistence. 

You shook your head and opened a chest that had a white paper in it with three words on it that you didn’t understand. You held it up to Yunho. “Please tell me this is it.”

He looked up. “It has to be.”

“Read it, big guy.”

He took the paper and read. “Klaatu, Verata… Nikto.”

“Groovy.” Y/n said.

“What’s groovy?” San asked.

“It’s from a movie.”

The thunder and lightning effects stopped.

San picked up his head and looked around.

“See baby boy?” Y/n asked. “Our very smart friends figured it out.”

“I’d call it diligent, not smart,” you said as Yunho put the chest back on the counter with the others and led the way out.

“I don’t want to do anymore…” San whined as you all walked in a much darker area of the haunted house that seemed to be a bit more slipshod.

“Yeah, I’m starting to get tired of it.” Y/n agreed.

Yunho stopped and looked at the wall for a second and followed whatever he was seeing down to the floor.

“Hold on.” He took off the wig and flung it who knows where.

“What?” You asked.

He knelt down and lifted the wall, everything attached to it swinging, exposing the exit on the other side.

“Freedom!” San yelled and ran for the exit.

Y/n laughed as she followed him.

“After you,” Yunho gestured.

“Show off.”

He walked to the other side and put the wall back in its place. “In my mind, what I’m showing off is that I realized it was a faux wall, like the kind you see on a stage or a cheap set.”

You laughed. “How’d you realize that?”

“I saw the seam when I walked past it and realized I could see daylight.”

“Ahh,” you nodded. “Maybe they should fix that.”

“Did you want to be stuck in there any longer with my crying roommate?” He asked pointedly.

“Hell no.”

He laughed. “Then be glad they were sloppy.”

Upon exiting the haunted house, San was sprawled out on a bench and y/n was walking back over from the nearest snacks stand with her arms filled with goodies.

“What’s this?” You asked.

“I figured, since my suggestion was such a flop, I might as well apologize with treats.”

She held her arms out and you took a bag of chips while Yunho took a drink and some candies. She put a bag of chips on San’s head and he sighed.

“You okay?” Yunho asked.

Y/n put a small pile of candy on San’s chest and sat next to him.

“I never want to do that again.”

“We play horror games all the time and you never act like this.”

“Because those are games,” he sat up, knocking all the candy and the chip bag into his lap. “Not real life.”

“That wasn’t real life either.” 

He unwrapped a lollipop and held it out for her to take. She bit over it, pulling it out of his hand.

“You know what I mean. Not three dimensions with long haired girls crying and shit.”

She chuckled.

You all stood around for a few moments and gnoshed on the treats she had brought over, and she went back a second time to get more, not allowing any of the rest of you to help. 

“Whelp,” she said as she slapped her hands on San’s shoulders and massaged them for him as he came back to a reality where he could eat chips and not be scared every two seconds. “What should we do now?”

“No more haunted houses.” He said.

She nodded. “Of course. No more of that.”

“What about the aquarium?” Yunho asked and pointed at the building across the way.

“Aquarium?” You asked as y/n and San stood and walked off to the building.

He shrugged. “I doubt the fish are going to cry or scream at us.”

You laughed. “Good idea.”

He chuckled and opened the door for you and you walked in.

The four of you wandered through the exhibits for a while, y/n and San in front of you and you and Yunho trailing behind. 

“Ohh! Look at the sharks, San!” Y/n said and grabbed his hand to drag him to the exhibit.

You chuckled.

“Something funny?” Yunho asked.

You shook your head. “Of course she’d be excited about the sharks.”

Yunho chuckled. “She’s excited about a lot of things.”

“At least they’re enjoying themselves.”

“I think we could have strapped them to one of the roller coasters for the rest of the day and they would have had a good time.”

You laughed. “I didn’t think a streamer would be such an adrenaline junkie.”

Yunho laughed.

“And we wouldn’t be able to leave them on the roller coasters all day, because then they’d never talk to each other.”

“That’s very true.”

You stopped in front of a large, cylindrical tank filled with jellyfish.

“They’re almost like aliens,” Yunho whispered.

“Mhm. It’s so weird that they’re in the oceans, as normal as we are standing here.”

He nodded. “They’re only weird because they’re in the wrong place.”

You nodded. “Reminds me of us when we were kids. At least me.”

“...Normal, but in the wrong place?”

“Yeah…”

“But hey, we’re both here now.” He elbowed you gently with a smile. “We made it out.”

You smiled and nodded.

He watched you for a second, smile on his face

You peeked around the tank. “Where’d they go?”

Yunho peeked around the other side. The two of you walked to where you thought they might be. You found them on a bench, playing a game together on y/n’s phone.

“What are you two doing? Look at the fish,” you laughed.

“We were waiting for you guys.” San said.

“Why didn’t you just come get us?” Yunho asked.

“Because you were talking about something,” y/n winked at you.

You looked at Yunho but he hadn’t seemed to notice as he was kicking at San’s foot to make him stand up.

Wait a second… Were they trying to do to you what you did to them at the butterfly garden?

… No. There’s no way. You might be harboring a little crush on Yunho again, but there was no way anyone else could know and there was no way he was into you. He wasn’t even into you when you guys were kids, so why would he be into you now?

Obviously that wink was because they were just spending time together, which is what they actually wanted to do.

“San! Horseshoe crabs!” Y/n shouted and dragged him along to another exhibit. The two of them laughed as they left, y/n explaining how they were older than dinosaurs.

“She really is Just Like That, huh?” You laughed.

“I guess so.” Yunho smiled as you turned to the tanks near you. Might as well look at the fish while you were here-- “Ah!”

He spun to face you. 

You were on the floor collapsed in laughter and pointed at the fish that spooked you. It was staring right out of the tank, mouth agape and eyes staring right into you. 

Yunho laughed and helped you up. “Are you okay?”

“I wasn’t expecting that.”

Yunho waved at the fish. “Hello sir, peeping is a crime, please move along.” The fish seemed to be perturbed by Yunho’s gesturing and left. Yunho turned to you in amazement.

“You’re the fish whisperer.”

He laughed. “I guess I know what I’m doing if acting doesn’t work out in the long run.”

You laughed.

You weren’t sure how much time later, y/n and San finally came back.

“Hey, we’re gonna go,” y/n said. “I have to stream later and I have to check out the game first.

You nodded. “Yeah, no problem. See you two later.”

“Thanks for the double date,” she winked.

Before you could respond, she and San left, giggling to themselves.

“Double date?” Yunho asked.

“I don’t know what that was about. Your roommate and his future girlfriend are really weird.”

Yunho laughed.

c.s previous | main cast | masterlist | next

j.yh previous | main cast | masterlist | next

a/n: Aww, of course t/n and Yunho would have a ✨moment.✨ (And not t/n nearly realizing what was happening lol)

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🎵 Any comments, reblogs, or asks are appreciated! I love talking with you guys and seeing what you’re saying about the chapters, it keeps me going 🥰

@luvvvx • @iamthehotdemon • @hrts4hanniehae • @rachs-words • @stayatinykatsy • @dinossaurz​​ • @conwunder​ • @tinyelfperson​​ • @anythingrelatingtojinyoung​ • @jaytheatiny​ •

[idledreams4]

I improved my morning alarm

[chocosvt]

[vaguely-concerned]

just going about my day idly contemplating how some of the ways hawke can interact with a romanced anders are not at all unlike how they interact with leandra (and a bit of carver too, especially with a purple hawke), and then thought about my hawke in the timeline where he romances anders and was hit straight in the face with 'was he ever actually in love, or was he just desperately trying to renegotiate with his mother's ghost in any way he could' and now i need to lie down. this is the power of dragon age 2

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Seele (Honkai: Star Rail). Listen, I used to write her and I miss her a bit, and also: there's Belobog people around. And also, well, she's much more interesting than people give her credit for. Also, prepare for some 'rewriting', because Belobog's pacing in specific ways kind of blew a little bit much.

[pyrriax]

ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏