#he later goes on to regret giving said support but oh well
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If Eddie had been in Sing 2
Eddie, after Buster lied at auditions: No, no, absolutely not! This is unethical, it's immoral, and it’s absolutely illegal. I want no part in this Buster!
Buster:
Eddie:
Buster: *smiles*
Eddie, sighing: FINE. You've convinced me. I'll help.
#sing 2#sing eddie#sing buster#noodlemoon is you squint blink and do a handstand#buster is chaos incarnate#eddie is a supportive boyfriend to buster's chaos#a tired but supportive boyfriend#he later goes on to regret giving said support but oh well#that's a problem for future eddie
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White Carnations, Red Roses (and other perfumed words I hide behind) [TEASER]
Pairing: Seungcheol x reader (ft other svt members)
Genre/warnings: fluff, humor, sorta enemies to lovers, misunderstandings, flower shop owner!Y/N, landord!Seungcheol, tags will be updated later on when the actual fic is completed
Word count: TBD
Summary: You were just starting to foolishly believe that your move to a new city wasn't as bad as people had told you it would be. You had your best friend as your roommate, your new flower shop was running relatively smoothly after the grand opening, and everyone you had met so far had been nothing but kind to you. And then you met Choi Seungcheol.
A/N: i hate writing summaries oh god i promise this fic won't be as bad at the summary makes it sound...anyway !! hi ! new fic on this blog that i haven't really touched in a l o n g time. hopefully, i don't give up on this fic and get back to writing like before but these are just simply baby steps for me so we'll see how this goes. please let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in reading this fic because i could use the motivation lmao. other than that, thank you for reading this and cheers to new beginnings !!
Perfumed Words (floriography) - "Once a form of clandestine communication, the language of flowers was a silent dialogue — an unspoken way to converse with friends, lovers..."
Flowers are said to represent many different things. On a basic level, they can express love, happiness, gratitude, condolences, congratulations, well wishes, and more. To those who look a little deeper, each flower has its own unique meaning and representation. It’s these more intricate meanings that make owning a flower shop so fun to Y/N. People will come in every day searching for flowers to fit a multitude of occasions and only deem the ‘prettiest’ ones worthy of their money, not at all aware that the bouquet they just purchased for an anniversary is full of flowers that represent rejection, foolishness, and ill-nature. Of course, there are the people that want to hear all about flower meanings and how to best express their desired message, but after moving to a bigger, more urban city in order to expand the once small flower shop owned in your hometown, the amount of patience customers seemed to have to hear about the symbolism of the flowers they picked had greatly lessened.
You grunted softly, dropping the large bag of potting soil on the ground. The new shop had only been open for about two weeks but there was still a desperate need for organization in the back areas, hidden from the view of customers. “That was all of them right?” Chan asks as he pants lightly, leaning his side against the wall of the storage room. Chan was one of your only part-timers and a lifelong best friend. Growing up next door to one another in a neighborhood full of teenagers and newborns almost guaranteed a solid friendship as you were the only two kids around the same age who also went to the same school. Chan had helped you learn to ride a bike and you had cried while playing hide and seek one time since it had been close to an hour and you hadn’t found him. As you got older, you stayed close and Chan was one of the biggest supporters in your life when you decided you wanted to open your own flower shop.
You laughed breathily at the boy next to you who was now dramatically trying to check his pulse. You push his shoulder gently as you move to walk back out to the front of the store. “I bet you regret saying you would go to university in the city now, huh?” Chan snorts at that, wrapping his arms tightly around you from behind to trap you in a bone-crushing hug, rubbing the side of his face against yours for good measure. You try to escape but he only holds you tighter, earning a loud groan from you, “Why would I regret moving with my bestest friend in the world? School has nothing to do with my undying loyalty to you,” You can’t help but laugh at that, finally freeing yourself from his arms and turning to face him. “Cut the shit, Lee Chan, we both know you’re only here because I have an extra bedroom in my apartment and could give you a job.” His shit-eating grin doesn’t falter as he extends his arms out for another hug, “Exactly what I said! Undying loyalty!”
You roll your eyes but can’t hide the smile on your face. “Yeah, yeah. Why don’t you show me that undying loyalty of yours by watering the plants in the greenhouse for me,” You smile sweetly while pushing a water spritzer into his chest. The way the smile on his face drops at your words makes you laugh lightly. He grumbles a bit but grabs the tools he needed and heads to the back door, raising his middle finger without turning back as you call out a sweet ‘Thank you!’. Chan was younger than you by a few years and the time for him to start university just so happened to overlay the time you decided to move the location of your shop for a much-needed expansion. You were lucky the area you settled on wasn’t too far from where you currently lived and Chan was even luckier that his dream school wasn’t far either. The small commercial strip you found with a space for rent seemed too good to be true at first. The area was popular and well developed with a large variety of stores surrounding yours. So far all the owners you had met were friendly and welcoming too.
You were almost immediately invited to game night by the owner of the coin karaoke, Soonyoung, who was two shops down from yours, and the manager of his place, Seokmin, looked as if he would cry if you declined the offer. When you agreed and met up with them later that night you met the co-owners of the souvenir shop across the street, Jeonghan, and Joshua, and Chan hit it off with the part-timer of the record shop who everyone called Vernon. The two found out they were both attending the same university in the upcoming semester starting in just a few weeks and you felt relief that Chan wouldn’t be completely on his own.
Everyone seemed to get along with one another and you were excited to slowly start joining the group for future get-togethers. The one person you couldn’t seem to get a clear read on was the landlord and property owner of the shops. You had met briefly twice: when you expressed interest in the vacant lot and when you signed your lease. Seungcheol was his name, and he always seemed to be in a rush whenever you met him, always leaving as quickly as possible with a tight smile and tired eyes. He was around the same age as you and the other shop owners and you assumed for a guy in charge of so many tenants he was just understandably busy.
You were mindlessly sweeping behind the check-out counter in the front of your store when the small chime of the bell above the front door drew your attention. You called out over your shoulder without fully turning to face the person, “Hi, I’m sorry but we’re closed for the day,” resting the broom against the wall, you brushed your hands off on your green apron and turned around to give the person your full attention. “I can’t even come in to see how you’re settling in?” The question catches you off guard, as does the presence of Seungcheol lightly stroking the petal of one of the white carnations on display. He looks up at you after a bit, cocking his brow slightly with a warm smile. He looks relaxed today, not as rushed and fidgety as your prior encounters, and the tan short-sleeved shirt he’s wearing hugs his previously hidden biceps wonderfully.
You blink once, then twice before you let out a soft, “Oh.” Seungcheol moves his hand from the delicate petals and crosses his arms over his chest while turning to face you fully. “I didn’t know you’d uh, didn’t know you would stop by…today,” You don’t know why you feel so nervous under the man's gaze but the light chuckle that leaves him makes you feel weak in the knees. He begins to walk up to the counter you’re still standing behind and you feel your eyes widen slightly. “I like to surprise my tenants every once in a while. Make sure they’re getting their money’s worth from their rent.” You nod slightly at that, looking down at the counter between the two of you to avoid his gaze. “Oh, yeah. That makes sense, I mean you-” he cuts you off with a gentle yet firm tone. “I also make sure they’re following the rules. They’re very strict here.”
Your head snaps up to meet his. His face looks serious and you can’t help but furrow your brows at his words. “Rules?’ You question quietly. He nods and his face holds the same serious expression as before. “This is a strictly business-only zone during operating hours. We can all be friends and whatever else when stores are closed but outside of that it’s rivalry and competition only.” You tilt your head in utter confusion and let out a “What?” that ends up being the loudest and most stable word you’ve spoken to him so far. The corner of his lips twitches just slightly upwards at that before he continues. “Every month rent is due, this isn’t news,” You narrow your eyes as he speaks, unsure if you’re going to like where this goes, “However, the shop with the highest sales for the month gets a benefit.” You raise an eyebrow at his vague explanation and cross your arms over your chest. “What does that have to do with rent, or being friendly with one another during business hours?”
Seungcheol sighs with a shake of his head, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans before meeting your eyes with a look of amusement. “Let’s just say the benefit is good enough that some good old-fashioned business rivalry and...sabotage, I guess you could say, is perfectly normal. If you don’t want to see your little flowers cut up or your water supply blocked then I would suggest you stick to the rules.” You let out a scoff of disbelief as he finishes. “I find it really hard to believe any of the people I’ve met so far would do anything like that, and I also find it insane that you would even allow it if it ever did.”
Seungcheol smiles at your words, enjoying the anger he can see beginning to grow. He leans over the counter slightly to get even closer to you before he speaks lowly, “You don’t know me or anyone else here like you might think you do. I really hope you’ll be able to last long enough to do that, but from what I see, you and your little flowers won’t make it to Christmas. It’s not like your sales would help you anyway.” You glare at him and clench your jaw at his words. You’re stuck in a trance of anger and disbelief and don’t even realize he’s walked away and out the front door until you hear the light chime from the bell once again. You’re unable to move as you replay the scene again and again in your head, only being brought back by Chan dramatically exclaiming his relief at once again being in a building with air conditioning. He sees your rigid stance and feels his eyes widen at the expression on your face.
“Y/N…are you good?” He asks hesitantly, unsure of what he missed while he was out. “I’m good,” you let out a deep breath as you meet his eyes, “I just need to go pick up a few things.” Chan looks confused as you walk past him to the back office space and grab your things, ready to leave. “What things?” He asks, following behind you and quickly ridding himself of his matching green apron as you quickly walk to the front door, flipping the open sign to display ‘Closed’. “Just some things to help me prove an asshole wrong,” You speak casually with a smile that Chan recognizes all too well. “Shaving cream or duct tape?” He asks in slight fear of the answer, letting out a sigh of disdain at the answer. “Lemons.”
“Oh fuck.”
#csc.mp3#toro writes#seventeen#svt fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#scoups fluff#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#svt x reader#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#scoups#seungcheol
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UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 34
Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader
Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.
Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.
After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.
Previous || Next
MASTERLIST
Aprox. time of reading: 10 minutes
After two weeks of being exclusive, I'm convinced I'm daydreaming and nothing of this is real. I can't believe I'm this lucky to have been chosen to be next to her after everything that's happened between us. And every day I spend with Y/n, I'm more convinced I'm trapped and never supposed to leave her side. I'm falling deep for every gesture. My heart races whenever she looks at me, and I'm aware that I'm the only one in her mind. She's quite hard to get to, she won't open up easily -and she definitely won't speak up her feelings so easily-, but her actions prove more than anything else, something so simple such as knowing me so well to be able to tell when I'm down just by the sound of my voice, and taking the time to come to my place just to cheer me up.
—Earth calling Jungkook? —someone calls me out.
When I look up, I see Mark crossing his arms over his chest while supporting the weight of his body against the door frame.
—What do you want?
—Oh, finally you speak —he steps inside the studio—. I thought I'd have to start thinking of an excuse to give to your sister.
—Tell her you're exploiting her younger brother.
—Hey —he warns me, pointing his index at me—. Out of us two, you work the least. Don't complain about having to cover it up for me today.
—You're the one who divides the customers —I shrug.
—Okay, then. From now on, We'll do fifty, fifty —he claps his hands in the air—. Or maybe seventy, thirty, since you want to work so bad.
—I'm okay —I finally say, giving him a short smile.
Rolling his eyes, he walks over the door again.
—I'll try to be here before five —he informs me—. There aren't many customers booked for today, so you should be fine on your own. I'll also try to be here before closing time, anyway. If something happens...
—You're acting as if I had never looked after the studio before —I interrupt him.
Mark stops talking for a few seconds, giving me an empathetic smile as his eyes soften after my comment.
—If something happens, call me right away. And if I don't pick up, wait until I do.
That being said, and ignoring my deathly looks, he waves goodbye and steps outside. Five minutes later, I'm hearing the main door closing among the silence.
The rest of the morning goes on as chill as expected, and as told by Mark. There are only three customers, and it's not like they're asking for too difficult designs. After being done with them, I go back to working on other drawings at the main counter -which will be my working desk for today, just in case someone comes asking for information or trying to book an appointment.
The ringing of the bell at the top of the door frame takes me out of my concentration, glaring at the door and instantly smiling when I see her here. We both agreed on meeting after she was done with her session with Jimin, but she arrived earlier than what we agreed on.
I start walking to her, ready to hide my face in the crook of her neck any time.
—I didn't expect you so early.
—I wasn't planning on coming so early either, but since you said Mark wasn't here today...
She also walks to me, wrapping her arms around my neck right after I've placed my arms around her waist to pull her closer to my body. The corners of her eyes instantly wrinkle when they connect with mine.
—Hey —I tuck some of her locks behind her ear.
—Hey —she smiles nervously.
I only give her a soft peck, sucking on her upper lip before I move away, resting my forehead on hers while our noses rub against one another and our breaths mix in the air.
—Are you still bored?
—You have no idea —I giggle—. I've been here alone all morning —I step back, just to be able to look at her properly while speaking—. There have only been three customers, and they all wanted small tattoos, so it's not like it took a lot of my time. How did it go?
I knew she was nervous about the session, and digging deeper on everything that she found out some weeks ago, but it seems like it went well by the way she puckers her lips and smiles again.
—Good —she nods—. You were right about Jimin.
—Told you —reaching my hand over the counter to get my drawing book, I save it back in my studio—. Want to go for a drink later? —I suggest, still inside the room.
—Why not?
When I'm outside again, I find her too concentrated on the amount of piercings that are exposed in the crystal counter. Honestly, I can easily picture her with a piercing, and I think she'd be able to pull any type so easily.
I wrap my arms around her again, resting my chin on her shoulder just to be able to look at the same spot she's looking at.
—Interested in getting one?
—No —she laughs
—A tattoo, then?
—Hmm... I'm more curious about tattooing one than getting one, actually.
—Is it? —the soft contact of her cheek on mine when I move to smile sends shiverings through my spine— Go for it then.
—Huh? —she turns to me confused.
—Come —I say, holding her hand to guide her steps.
We both enter the studio, and I only let go of her because I have to place all the things needed for what she's about to do right now. I move the craftelier with all the tools next to the tattoo stretcher, and later I move the chair I usually sit in between them two.
After everything is put in the correct place, I sit on the tattoo stretcher, getting as comfortable as possible -or, at least, as much as I always ask my customers to do-; and I tap on the free chair, inviting Y/n to take the spot.
—Are you serious about this?
—Why not? —I frown.
I got under her skin, so it was only fair she'd get under mine.
—Because I'm not a professional like you.
—Just sit here, I'll guide you.
—Kook, I don't even have a design —she complains, while she sits on the chair.
—Just do what crosses your mind.
—If I fuck up your skin...
—Just do a simple one —I encourage her—. Draw whatever you want —I smile to make her comfortable—. Where do you want to do it?
Whatever place she chooses, whatever thing she starts drawing... I honestly don't care as long as it means she's the one that did it.
She moves her fingers over my skin, stopping at the only spot in my wrist that isn't covered with ink, next to the snake she's always been vocal about liking so much. I open a plastic package, take a razor and move it carefully over that spot and get rid of the hairs that could be a problem for what she's about to do. Starting the machine right after, I hand her a pair of gloves so I can give her the pen as soon as she puts them on.
I pull from her seat, dragging her closer to me just so I can help her to sit correctly -and also so she can be as comfortable as possible. I also help her place her fingers on my skin, so the work is efficiently done.
The first few minutes, I hold her hand with my free hand, teaching her how to do it, what pace she should work on, and how she should be using the pen. And once she seems to be able to do it on her own, I let go of her. I only interrupt her whenever I try to move her hair away, wanting to see her expression while she's tattoing me.
—Am I hurting you? —she asks, not raising her eyes from that spot she's working on.
—It feels like someone is cutting my arm, actually —I joke—. But I can handle it, because I'm a tough guy.
—Sure —she rolls her eyes.
Y/n does a few more traces, and brings out her perfectionist nature when the needle goes over some spots she has already done. Once it's over, I look at the reversed heart. And I can't help but smile when I'm aware of the way it stands out compared to the rest of my tattoos.
—A heart?—I smile shyly.
—It was the only thing I could think about —she hands me the pen—. Nothing too personal. If we ever grow apart, it won't really hold any meaning. And it'll be easier to cover it.
—You did it, so it has a lot of meaning —I turn off the machine—. You're under my skin now.
I show off the tattoo right after saying that, lifting my arm and closing my fist. When she's finally taken off the gloves, I move the chair closer to me again, pulling her in for another long kiss.
✸ ✸ ✸
We get inside Taehyung's pub while holding hands, moving among the crowd piling at the door. Trying to make it easier for us to move, I step ahead of her, moving her arm around my waist so we're able to walk smoothly while I'm still able to make sure she's next to me. Soon I'm not even bothered by the amount of people when I feel her lips curve on my nape.
We should visit crowded places more often...
It's not like we need an excuse to act like this though. These two weeks we've been stuck together like our bodies were glued to each other whenever we had the chance. And it was even worse whenever we were in private. The only difference is when we meet up with my sister and her friends, that's when we have to pretend we aren't together at all and it gets more difficult every day.
After asking for our drinks, I feel her moving away from my body. Although it's all left to an attempt when I stop her, wrapping my arm around her waist and placing her body right against mine again.
—I want you glued to my body, baby —I whisper into her ear.
Her head falls back slightly when I kiss the spot under her earlobe, smirking at her reaction when our eyes meet again. Too bad we're interrupted again when our drinks are ready, because I'd probably be sucking into her lips otherwise.
We move to one of the few free tables, taking the spot before anyone else is able to take it. Once we're finally breathing comfortably, I see her eyes dropping to her icy drink and how her lips slightly pout when there's no straw.
Something I will always know is that Y/n isn't able to drink anything with ice if it doesn't have a straw, she just hates the feeling of the ice against her teeth, or having to work twice to avoid the ice while sipping on it.
—I'll ask for one —I'm about to get up, but she grabs my wrist.
—It's alright —she stops me—. They're too busy to just waste their time on a straw.
—You hate the ice hitting your teeth —I stand up either way—. I won't bother anyone. I'll just go and pick one. I'll be right back.
I kiss her forehead, reassuring that it isn't a bother for anyone. When I move behind the counter, I start chatting with Josh while he's serving drinks, and out of nowhere Brooke also joins us.
—Look who dared to show up by himself again.
—I'm not by myself though —I look for the straws.
—A new hook up? —she jokes.
—My girlfriend —I point at Y/n as I say that.
It's true that we haven't settled what we are yet. We're in the fake "knowing each other" face, and trying to see how things work between us, but I'd constantly refer to her as my girlfriend whenever I think of her.
—Wait... I know her. Tae also mentioned you were dating her when she came the other day, but I thought he was kidding.
—Why? —now I look at her.
—She was close to the guy she came with.
I scoff at that comment. Y/n, my Y/n, being close to a guy that isn't me to the point of making someone believe she's dating him? After we finally solved things out? Of course I can't buy it. And Brooke seems to be taking that scoff as the disbelief sign I exactly want to show off, because she brings up her phone and shows me the pic herself.
Y/n is smiling wide, resting her hand on Jin's arm while she's leaning onto him. I want to keep myself from reacting the way I shouldn't, to feel a way I shouldn't, but it's too late.
—Who do you think you are to do that shit? —Brooke is taken aback by my reaction, dropping her hand to the side slowly— Are you really that bored that you're taking pics of clients and saving them on your phone? I don't know what you expected when you took that pic, but I don't really care. Whatever happens between my girlfriend and I is my business, and you shouldn't be sticking your noses in them.
Of course I know Y/n well enough to bet all my money that she wouldn't even think of going to someone else. I trust her. But I'm still confused as to why she didn't tell me anything about that night, and how she went out alone with Jin after work.
—Here —I hand her the straw when I'm back at the table.
—Thanks.
Even if I know she wouldn't, what if she starts realizing there are better dudes out there now that she's started dating me?
Maybe I'm not what she expected.
—Are you okay? —her questions bring me back to our table.
—Yeah —I nod—. Why?
—Nothing —she shakes her head.—. I was just checking.
#fanfic#ff#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkookxreader#jk#bts#wattpad#kookie#smut#jungkook smut#tattoistjk#tattooau#jungkook pov#Under His Skin#reader insert#armpirate
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tommy's character gets far too much shit.
hi tumblr. i'm gonna need a few bitches to spread this post everywhere, essentially because i want someone, or just tommy really, to see it. so if you really want, you can screenshot it and post it on twitter, reddit, link it everywhere - go absolutely buck wild. i know he reads the VODS comments a lot, but they're chock full of people just insulting him, his character, his writing and everything about his story in the dream smp simply because they don't understand it and because they refuse to acknowledge his character's perspective (mainly because they only care about the pig). reading that many critical comments on something you've created can only make you feel worse about it eventually, and in light of all the awful techno apologist takes on his character, i wanted to basically just word vomit about how wonderfully crafted c!tommy is, as well as compile some other tumblr posts about his character.
there is a massive fuckin community of people who enjoy the character of tommy, because the character is incredible. i myself have made post after post after post commenting on and analysing tommy's character because i find that there's so much to pick apart. but that enthusiasm for his character only seems to be found on tumblr. reddit and twitter seem to hate his character, the VODS seem to be filled with comments from people who only care about techno's perspective (and treat techno as a reliable narrator, which, is the furthest thing from the truth - that guy lies through his teeth all the time), and the smp wiki is a hellscape of godawful takes and mistruths, not even on just tommy's character.
c!tommy is brilliantly acted and brilliantly written, and almost everything he does is either justifiable or has been rectified or admitted as a mistake. you can clearly make connections as to where he got his conclusions from. you feel what his character experiences, as a member of the audience, vividly.
if you look in the more objective sense, c!tommy, and this is especially in the context of him being the youngest character, is a scapegoat. people claim he's awful and destructive when in reality he's a lot less destructive than most characters on the server. a moment that comes to mind is where he diverts schlatt and quackity's attention from pogtopia by breaking part of the flag in manberg, and then replacing it so as to buy tubbo some time - he literally monologues after it about how he doesn't want to destroy but instead rebuild, and how he feels as if nobody else seems to understand that.
his arc in season two was incredible. it was very character driven, and it gave a spotlight to his motivations. at the start we see him in new l'manberg, and he's enjoying his time there, he's skeptical of his friend's presidency, but his main goal is to get back the discs so that he can stop dream and eliminate that threat. he made one screw up that didn't even matter to george, and he paid for it tenfold, even after dream had spent a while with puffy griefing the server and framing it on tommy - what tommy and ranboo did was convinient. then, in exile, we see c!tommy straight up get abused. he's gaslit and conditioned into being c!dream's friend, and in his brain he teaches himself that those acts of abuse are moments of bonding, and it eventually brings him to the point of wanting to end his own life - he's been torn away from his friends and his support system, and nobody will visit him consistently anymore because they only showed him pity, and all he had left was dream, who had hurt him.
but he doesn't die there, because while he didn't understand the full gravity of it back then like he does now, he recognises that dying isn't an escape, and he can beat dream, even if he doesn't know how. so this is where he goes to techno's place, and here's where the fandom starts to misinterpret the situation wildly.
it's the problem similar to when your parents tell you that they're owed something back because you put a roof over their head, despite that being Not How It Works. techno took tommy in and severely mistreated him emotionally. sure, and i understand this, c!techno is a bad communicator who isn't really that empathetic to anyone who isn't phil or wilbur, but that doesn't excuse the blatant lying to c!tommy's face, the guilt tripping, the friendship buying and the degrading. the day before the festival, tommy finally does something violent in his interrogation of fundy, and only then does techno tell him,,,,
that tommy's not equal to him, that techno doesn't respect him all that much, and that they're not friends.
from techno's perspective, and at the time, this was viewed as a positive development in their relationship. oh, he's starting to warm up to tommy! this friendship could really blossom!
no. from a more objective standpoint, what techno has just said to tommy is : 'i respect you only a little bit more now, because while you're starting to act more like me, you're still annoying and a burden.'
and i haven't even touched on the whole 'erasing the words 'Destroy L'manberg' from techno's to-do list' thing, because that instantly refutes the point of 'techno was upfront with his intentions the whole time' - because he wasn't! he may have said it the first time, but you also know what else he did? he repeatedly told tommy that they'd 'air the details out later' whenever the discs were brought up, and from a tommy viewer's perspective at the time, it was framed as if techno was no longer going to do that.
and i also haven't dared touch the 'i would have fought them all for you', because that's major guilt tripping if ever i've seen it.
so, the day of the festival comes, and here's where c!techno and his apologists completely misread c!tommy's thought process, and why he makes the decision he does.
tommy instantly regrets valuing the discs over tubbo, and it's framed as the culmination of tommy having become all the people he said he would never want to be like. and what does he immediately do? he tells tubbo to give up the disc, and he sides with tubbo. he puts his value in his friends, and, by proxy, l'manberg. and when he betrays techno, he tells him 'i'm sorry'.
from a more objective standpoint, tommy's time with techno is him valuing the discs over almost anything else. so, in leaving techno to be with tubbo again, he is valuing people above the discs. so when, on doomsday, techno says his 'discs aren't people' line, what he doesn't realise is that he himself fueled tommy's valuing of discs above people when attempting to fuel tommy's vengeance against tubbo and l'manberg. techno doesn't realise that he was an unhealthy presence for tommy, and an even worse influence.
what techno also doesn't seem to understand is that tommy never hated tubbo or l'manberg - tommy recognises, now at least, that his exile wasn't a product of tubbo, but a product of dream's manipulation, likely in part because at the time, especially with dream lying about tommy blowing up the community house, tommy was the only one who could see it because he had experienced it firsthand. so when techno sides with dream, it's like kicking tommy in the teeth.
and i want to mention that betraying someone doesn't necessarily make the person who was betrayed good, or in the right, or even justified, because tommy was entirely justified to leave techno. you know who else was betrayed? schlatt. but i don't see many schlatt apologists around angry at quackity for joining the rebellion.
tommy stole the axe of peace? good. it was a moment of tommy defining his self-worth, instead of having it defined by others. gone is the age of c!techno belittling him and deciding how much c!tommy should be respected. NEXT!
here's a moment i wanted to talk about that will forever be funny to me.
'i am a person.'
techno's very famous line from doomsday. techno says to tommy that discs aren't people, and that tommy should value people, despite not understanding that by leaving techno, he did just that. and what does tommy say in return, which has been omitted from every c!tommy-critical analysis, and every animatic?
'yes you are, but so are we.'
an acknowledgement of techno's hurt, to which tommy has already apologised for. a statement that says 'your hurt does not excuse, nor justify, the hurt you have inflicted onto us.' an acknowledgement that tommy has already learnt the lesson techno seems to be trying to 'teach' him. but you can't teach him anything by destroying.
c!tommy has had almost everything he has ever owned or built either taken from him or destroyed. ranboo even points out that the only two things of tommy's left standing are his house and his hotel, and if i'm honest, his house is dissheveled. it's a labyrinth of terror due only to how many times it's been torn apart. l'manberg being blown up didn't teach anyone anything about anarchy, or about valuing people over possessions. logstedshire being blown up didn't teach tommy to be obedient.
i could honestly ramble for ages about how nuanced tommy's character is and how much depth and complexity there is to his character's process and his relationship with others, but more than that, c!tommy is forgiving. he invites almost everyone who hates him to the grand opening of his hotel - if that isn't an indicator that he just wants friends, and not to be treated like the embodiment of evil, then i don't know what is. he holds grudges, but he doesn't really actively hate anyone, other than c!dream. but, we'll let him. c!dream deserves nothing but to be pummeled into the floor.
tommy doesn't spoonfeed his character nuance, and he doesn't really spell it out for his audience. he'll mention things like trauma and triggers in passing, but a lot of analysis on his motivations has to be picked up from what is said in passing or from what can be seen in between the lines.
i'd be here for hours if i were to talk about everything i love about c!tommy, because honestly he's one of my favourite characters, and there are so many angles you can look at his character from in terms of his age, his relationships with others, his motivations, his personality, his character arcs etc etc. so instead of doing that, i'm going to compile some much more specific analysis posts below to skim through because they highlight so many good aspects of his character.
^^ A thread about the 'yes you are, but so are we' line.
^^ About how shit the VODS comments are.
^^ A comment on how c!Tommy is actually pretty peaceful, and is actually less destructive than most characters on the server.
^^ Possibly the best c!Tommy analysis thread I've ever seen in relation to his trauma, which gives multiple perspectives.
^^ About how c!Tommy is treated as a scapegoat, and how, from an objective standpoint, he is no more violent than any other character, it's just that the little violence that is committed is blown far out of proportion.
^^ Tumblr user flypaw being a bad bitch, as per usual.
^^ c!Tommy being incredibly intelligent, and talking about wanting to rebuild and not destroy. A very underrated monologue of his.
^^ Something short about c!Tommy and c!Wilbur's relationship in Pogtopia.
^^ Less about c!Tommy, more a meta on L'Manberg. Really interesting to think about.
^^ A take on Doomsday.
I'll add some more posts in a reblog in the notes, but if anyone's post(s) is on this and they want me to take it off, let me know and I'll do that for you! Feel free to add your own banger c!Tommy takes or ones that you've found.
#dream smp#dsmp#dreamsmp#dsmpblr#tommyinnit#dream smp analysis#dsmp analysis#dreamsmp analysis#dream smp tommy#dream smp tommyinnit#dreamsmp tommy#dreamsmp tommyinnit#dsmp tommy#dsmp tommyinnit#tommyinnit dream smp#tommy dream smp#tommy dsmp#tommyinnit dsmp#tommyinnit dreamsmp#tommy dreamsmp#mcyt#tommyinnit mcyt#mcyt tommyinnit#dream smp discourse#dream smp theory#dsmp theory#long post
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Hi! It's me again the levi hc anon haha.. How are you doing? I was wondering if you could do a hc on Levi having a crush who's good with kids. OR a scenario where he doesn't still know his crush that well and they're in an orphanage and a kid runs to her yelling "Mama!" and then Levi's like 'I lost my chance with her.. She's not single" and then he somehow gets to know that she doesn't have kids and she is single. Thanks!
𝐀 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
→ Text: Omg hello there! thanks for coming back with another request 🥺💕 I am doing alright (just getting so tired nowadays cause of work-) I hope you are well though! also, this is such a cute idea for a request so thank you for sending it! I hope you like it and sorry for the delay <3 enjoy it :,)
Synopsis: Y/N has started her new job as a nurse caregiver in a orphanage institute, wanting to look after kids who don’t have any family or parents and show them support and love. Levi, mistakes this as Y/N having kids and he is quite upset about it, defeated after he was getting to know her ever since he bumped into her in his tea shop which she usually goes to.
cute fluff, modern au, headcanons imagine ♡ —
Levi has been noticing his rather loyal customer recently in his teashop. She would come in usually all the time around the same time, and get the same tea that Levi would prepare minutes before she comes in.
He developed a small which later grew to a big crush on her and he decided to take his chance to get to know her and chat with her.
“Here, it’s on the house. Also, I didn’t get your name?” Levi said while handing her drink, and then started to clean the counter.
“That’s nice of you, thanks! And, its Y/N. I assume yours is Levi?” Her smile was beautiful to him, he loved how you always gave him that smile to him only after you both have gotten close and having small chats once a while.
He sometimes wished you stayed longer and would hope there won’t be any customers in the store whenever you came in, because of the short time you stayed there, he wanted to spend every minute of it!
“So, what do you do for a living? You seem to work.” He said while crossing his arms and taking a seat right next to you. Y/N could smell in his scent which was a scent of pure black tea which he just brew for you, the scent of fresh green leaves, floral and a nice fresh mint smell. “I am a nurse working in a institute.” You say with a smile and turned to glance at him, looking handsome than ever.
“Oh? I see, that’s interesting.” Levi said, he started to become more curious about you and he was dying to know more about you too. But he decided to take things slow and also because, he did feel kind of nervous when talking to you, especially if he starts to stutter or becomes lost of words every time he makes eye contact you, because to him, you looked pretty in his eyes and he admired your beauty and personality.
“By the way, I will be shutting my teashop for a couple of days so I was wondering. Do you want to hang out tomorrow? Of course, if that is a-alright with you.”
‘Shit, I fucking stuttered.’ He thought to himself and cursed in his mind when he realized that, and now you could see a slight blush on his cheeks. Y/N chuckled and then got up taking her purse and approaching the door to leave, “Sure, I would love that. I finish work early tomorrow, Soo maybe you could meet me there after I am done with work?”
Levi felt pleased and happy to hear how Y/N accepted his offer, now he can have a longer time to spend with his crush and he was happier than ever, getting a fuzzy feeling inside of him. Wishing tomorrow was here already. “That’s fine with me, I will pick you up then and I will find us a place to hang out.”
“Sounds like a plan! I’ll see you tomorrow, Levi.” You gave him a small wave and left his tea shop place. Oh how he adored you so much, and throughout the day he was thinking of what to wear and even where to take you, and how you would look so beautiful, also how lucky of him being able to even see you.
The next day approached, and Levi was exactly on time, and he was around the parking lot of the institute. “Hm, Reiss Royal institute? Why does that ring a bell.” He wondered but let the thought leave his mind once he started to think of you and how he was soon to see you.
“Hey Levi!” Levi looked up immediately from his phone and looked towards Y/N who was waving at him and walking towards him. He quickly put his phone away and he got off from his car as he was laying against it, and Levi was now fixing his posture, nervous a bit but stood still.
“Oi, Y/N How-” As Levi was about to ask how Y/N was doing, he was caught off guard as he saw a child running towards Y/N and she quickly grabbed her hand.
“Mama! Look I drew this for you!” The little girl said with a big happy smile and Y/N bent down and started to ruffle the girl’s hair. “Awh really? This looks amazing. I will make sure to keep this.”
After hearing that, the little girl got so happy and quickly went and hugged Y/N around her neck, while chuckling. “Thanks Mama! I will draw more for you!”
Levi, now stood there still, all speechless and his eyes widen. ‘Wait it can’t be....Is that her kid?’ He thought and suddenly went sad, feeling quite upset how Y/N might have already been in a relationship and was just thinking of Levi as a friend this whole time.
‘I..I lost my chance with her. She clearly is not single.’ As soon Levi thought that to himself, his trace of thoughts was cut off as Y/N waved her hand towards his face. “Hey, I’m talking to you! What’s wrong? You suddenly went quiet?” Y/N said in a concerned tone, not sure what made him change so quickly.
“Sorry. It’s just, your kid surprised me that’s all.” He uttered and looked away from you, feeling quite let down and how he finally lost his chance with someone he finally had feeling for and actually loved for the first time.
But, Y/N quickly held on his hand to get his attention and he turned around, looking at her. “Wait.” She then furrowed her eyebrows and suddenly started to chuckle. “Haha! Levi, That is one of my students! You don’t actually think this was my child right?”
Now, Levi went red, feeling rather embarrassed how he mistook the little girl as her daughter. Y/N kept on giggling and Levi would beg her to stop but, he felt relieved and smiled. He later then realized that, after getting to know her well that she worked actually in a orphanage institute academy and was a nurse there for the kids, and was loved by all the children that called her ‘Mama’ by how caring, affectionate and kind-hearted she was as she treated them and helped them and this made the kids thinking Y/N was their role model Mum!
Y/N would now then, tease Levi, knowing pretty well how seeing him really surprised by what happened and how he was wondering if it was actually her child or not was cute and funny to her. She then reassured him that she doesn’t have any kids and she was actually single. “O-Oh. I see...” Levi said sitting there with a slight blush, now feeling that his chance is back and he was now getting butterflies in his stomach. It was clear to Y/N that with his response that he was kind of happy to hear that instead, and it made her wonder if what she felt for Levi, was the same with him feeling towards Y/N.
In one of their hangouts, Levi finally takes his chance now, before he loses it and regrets it. He took his shot and finally asked you out as his girl. “Y/N, I want to get to know you better..” He said nervously and he went and grabbed your hand, which he caressed lovingly. Y/N went red and her eyes would widen and Levi looked at it, admiring how beautiful they were as the stars in the evening sky was reflecting it. “I want you in my life, so will you...be my girl? Is that alright.”
Y/N smiled at him, happy how Levi finally took the step and Y/N reassured Levi that they would be having such a loving and happy relationship and that made his world hearing that, especially from you. Just though your words, made his life better and he knew from then on, he would now be happy with you and he couldn’t be asking for more than that as long as you were by his side.
Now, ever since you both started to date and go out together. Levi would always pick you up from work after you were done. Never missing a day, after all you were his priority. With this, the kids would notice Levi and see him now and then whenever they follow Y/N to the parking lot. And the kids were curious who he was and they would be behind Y/N and looking at him, a bit scared. They then liked him as Y/N explained to them that he was not scary at all and he was actually really kind and sweet. This made the kids call him Dada and some calling him Dad too!
“Wait, I’m not your- Tch, Whatever Brats.” Levi said and ruffled the kids head as he bent down, greeting them with a small hand shake, they all quickly liked him. He lowkey liked that though, at how they referred to him as Dada and Dad but he won’t admit that! “Hey Levi! Don’t call the kids that!”
The kids actually love and ship you both, they always tell Y/N when coming by to her nurse office if she is seeing Levi after school and they would ask to tag along to see him. Giving him some craft arts they made and giving it to him as a gift for always coming by to see Y/N. And, ironically Levi on that same day bought many gifts for the kids such as sweets, their favorite chocolates (since he asked the little girl what kind of chocolate the students liked) and some toys.
You then noticed Levi smiles a lot when the kids come to him and you started to find that cute and when you mention that on your way back, he denies that and goes “No, they are annoying brats anyways.”
Okay this was really cute and sweet to write so thank you for the request anon :,)! And if anyone out there enjoyed this then please leave a like, a message or a reblog! Thanks and I hope you all have a great day ahead ♡♡♡
#Levi ackerman#levi headcanons#levi ackerman x you#levi x reader#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman headcanon#levi ackerman headcanons#levi headcanon#ackerman x reader#levi x y/n#levi x oc#levi hc#levi hcs#ackerman hcs#ackerman hc#aot hc#aot hcs#snk hc#snk hcs#ackerman headcanon#ackerman headcanons#aot x reader#snk x reader#fanfiction#levi fanfic#levi fic#levi fanfiction#ackerman fanfiction#fanficiton x reader#aot fanfic
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I’m sorry, but can I just go on a little rant about the Louis, clouis, and the Clem comic...?
I didn’t really talk about Louis in my overall review of the comic because I wanted that to be more contained to the content shown on the pages, Clementine’s relationship with AJ, and her as a character.... but the more I think about these comics and Louis, the more frustrated I become thinking about what Clementine abandoning everyone would do to him.
[... okay it’s not little anymore since I guess I can never just do anything simple when it comes to Louis, sorry my bad]
So, no surprise, we all know the comic’s bullshit by now. Clementine leaving everything and everyone behind because she’s not happy is dumb, AJ just letting her go is dumb, and Clem going to the mountains on crutches and a peg leg to find this so-called happiness is dumb.
Now that we’ve established it’s dumb, I wanna talk about Louis because I got a lot of built up feelings about how bullshit this storyline is with how Clementine would not only abandon AJ, but also abandon Louis.
Because let me tell you..... his heart would be broken beyond repair and I need to talk about why.
Sigh.... so.... muh boy.
Before he met Clementine, Louis was this laidback, irresponsible, but caring and musical person who kept his head down to avoid conflict and never looked at the future. He was the kind of person who took things one day at a time, saw survival as a day-to-day task, and said that the future doesn’t exist, there’s only today. You get the point, he was never too concerned with things because they always seemed to work out, and if they didn’t, then that sucks and that’s why we should appreciate every day while we have it.
Louis is shown to be charismatic and friendly, he spends his free time playing piano and card games, but no one really takes him seriously. Not even Marlon, his best friend for 8+ years. While he doesn’t seem to be on bad terms with anyone [including Aasim, they just act like people who disagree with the other’s point of view and have had the same argument many times, but that doesn’t mean they hate each other, y’know?] he also doesn’t appear super close with anyone outside of Marlon and possibly Violet, but even then.
Marlon’s shown to have little faith in him with the way he talks about if Louis will even show up to hunt. He has a controlling grip on Louis that’s prominent during the confrontation scene when he uses intimidation to try to convince Louis to not interfere. Oh, and there’s the fact that Marlon’s been lying to Louis for the past year about the twins and then continued to lie to his face about what really happened to Brody... which isn’t great when you consider how Louis was the only one who had blind faith in him as a leader and, according to Marlon, was the only one who couldn’t see how pathetic he always was.
Violet, while having a few more nicer moments with him than Marlon, still invalidates him and his feelings several times throughout the first half of the game which makes me wonder how close they ever were, or at least if Violet ever considered him a close friend to begin with. And no, a small monologue in the dorms doesn’t make everything better or confirm they were brotp the whole time... especially when once they’re on the boat, Louis might as well not exist because Violet can’t be bothered to acknowledge what happened to him or inquire about how he’s doing. I guess she just didn’t have time react while standing in her cell for several unbothered minutes-- no wait, it’s she already reacted off screen. Right. Good writing is good.
What I’m getting at here is that even though Louis is surrounded by people who he genuinely cares about, there is an argument to be made that he’s a lonely person. Hell, he’s aware of his loneliness when he says that no one hears past his music and jokes. I mean, how many nights do you think he spent by himself playing the piano because no one wanted to hear it? Are they like Violet and crack jokes about how he doesn’t have actual talent? Probably, given that someone literally carved “you suck at playing” onto the side of the damn piano.
Oh, and let’s touch on that backstory of his. Louis grew up wealthy with two parents who loved him and each other, and they gave him anything he wanted except singing lessons. Louis says he wanted to be a real musician. But I guess his father didn’t like that idea and told him no, with the [as Louis puts it] dumb dad lesson of, “You get to be happy, or you get to be rich, can’t be both.” ...which is interesting given that Louis and his family were stupid rich but also.... were they not happy? well, that doesn’t make sense because little Louis knew that if he broke up their marriage, they would be hurt.
So yeah, Louis was so upset that his father continually refused to let him take singing lessons that he broke into the man’s credit cards and faked an affair, which led to his parents divorcing... and then he spit his father’s words back in his face.
Then they dumped him at Ericson. And the walkers came.
There’s so much to unpack from the story he tells that it could be it’s own analysis, but basically.... Louis is aware of why what he did was fucked up, and he carries it with him every day.
He regrets what he did, chews himself out for being such a “vindictive fuckhead” [and the amount of force used in that line tells you a lot, like how it’s not the first time he’s chastised himself like this] and he admits that he doesn’t even know the person he’s talking about. Yet, he still sees himself as bad, saying that they [I assume the staff] told him and the other kids they’re bad people. I don’t doubt that Louis internalized that which played a huge role in the confidence and self-esteem issues he has during tfs.
Anyway, I’ll come back to this later, but when you take that amount of guilt and regret, and mix it with the fact that they dropped him off at this school that was supposed to make him better.... then the walkers came and those teachers, staff, and headmaster? Gone. Left a bunch of kids to fend for themselves, with the exception of Ms. Martin [but given how she looks when we find her I doubt she lasted that long] and I cannot imagine how horrifying that was for all of them. The dead are up eating people, and if you die you become one of them... and the people you thought you could rely on just fucking left you to die at this school.
Every kid in that school has trauma and abandonment issues from before and after the world went to shit, every last one, and Louis isn’t the exception here. Over the years, a lot of kids died and they’ve all seen horrible shit. They all knew they were never going to see their families again, and as far as we know, no one came to get their kids at the beginning. They had to find ways of coping while trying to survive, and all they had left was each other.
Louis copes with music and games and jokes. He’s built up this persona where it seems like he’s unaffected by the comments the others make, that the death and suffering he’s gone through is in the past, that he is confident and open to those around him.
But then Clementine and AJ show up, and Louis grows close with both of them. They had immediate chemistry upon first meeting, he was the one who looked after AJ since it seems like everyone else saw him as a little terror, and he went out of his way to be kind and make them comfortable.
When they go hunting with him, Louis and Clementine have a moment after taking care of the walker where they lower their guards a bit-- Louis gives her more in-depth reasons for his views of survival, and going off her expression, it gets to her and makes her think.... but they’ve know each other a day and he’s not quick to infodump his life story or let her in, so he cuts the conversation short.
Then we have the Marlon confrontation scene that I have gone over so many times in the past. I won’t dillydally with it too long but..... Clementine appeals to Louis, who curls in on himself because of the control Marlon has on him. He wants to help, and hell, he knows this is wrong but he’s so used to not getting involved that he gets defensive.... plus, he’s known Clementine for two days, and he’s known Marlon for 8+ years.... he wants to believe Marlon but you can tell he doesn’t want this, either. It takes Clementine talking to him to give him courage to stand between her and Marlon’s gun and it’s a lot.
AJ shoots Marlon and everything goes to shit, and Louis is a goddamn mess. His best friend was murderer right in front of him, so add that to the trauma list, and he’s overwhelmed with all these feelings that again.... they keep getting invalidated by Violet because “Marlon was a liar and murderer, therefore you shouldn’t feel bad about his death. Get over yourself, Louis, you can be such a shithead sometimes.”
Oh yeah Vi, I guess he should care more about two people he’s known for a total of two days rather than for the safety of the people [including you] he’s grown up with and cared about for 8+ years.... makes sense.
So yeah, little to no support during this time. Alone again.
And just because I have to make this clear so no one gets a hair up their ass-- both Louis and Violet are wrong here. Kicking them out isn’t the solution, but neither is acting like AJ was right to commit murder just because it was Marlon.
But plots gotta plot, so they get voted out and you can see that Louis is conflicted about the whole thing. He wants them gone, but at the same time, he knows what kicking them out means. You can see it on his face that he’s not okay with kicking them out. He’s hurting when he’s there in the dorms telling them how the vote went... he literally doesn’t know what else to do. He just knows that everything hurts, Clem and AJ caused it, and he wants the pain to stop. He even tries to justify it to himself by figuring that they’ve done this before so they’ll be fine. Not a great thing to say, Lou.
Anyway, we know the story, Clem and AJ come back and Louis once again sees the consequences of acting out of pain.... AJ is shot because Louis was hurt and he made a bad decision that he’s gotta live with.... something that he’s done before, and this affirms to him that he’s bad. He wishes he could take it back, and goes as far as to admit that to Clementine during the archery scene.
By the way, credit to him for his apology to her. It’s rare in these games that Clem gets a genuine apology from someone who hurt her and doesn’t turn around to repeat the hurtful behavior, y’know? Plus, I can think of plenty of characters who owed Clem an apology in the past or if they did apologize, it was half-assed.
You can feel how conflicted he is with this whole thing-- learning who Marlon really was and what he did, feeling something for Clementine before everything went down and not knowing how to handle those feelings afterward, caring about AJ and understanding why he thought shooting was the best choice but still hurting that his friend is dead....
And the thing is.... Louis forgives her for so much, as she does him, and through all of that bullshit, they manage to develop that strong connection that turns romantic. Louis lets himself be fully vulnerable with her and is honest about his feelings, how she listened when no one else did and seeing him for more than just the persona he put on.
This works on Clementine’s side, too. Clementine has been through her own fair share of bullshit-- trauma, abandonment, loss, injury, you name it. She’s made mistakes, done terrible things, and has been in enough groups to know that romance usually ends in heartbreak.... and yet, she’s willing to open herself up to Louis and admit she feels a lot for him.
Is it a little rushed? Yep. Could it have been handled better? Of course, most things this season could’ve, but what we got was pretty good.
So Clementine and Louis are romantically involved now, the raiders attack, and she saves him... and boy does Louis feel guilty about that one, too. He feels bad enough that he questions why she would pick him because he can’t fathom his life being worth saving over another’s. He doesn’t see himself as useful, and even though Clementine is literally his girlfriend at this point, his self-esteem is so all over the place that he can’t understand why she would have him at her side.
And when Clementine tells him that he’s too important to her, he’s too baffled to even give a response. He looks at her in disbelief like he wasn’t expecting her to say that. But this shows that at the beginning of their relationship, he still doubts himself, and through her working with him, he begins to build up that strength in himself.
He becomes brave enough to share what got him sent to the school with her, and he plays Don’t Be Afraid for everyone at the party and like.... for once, everyone is listening to him. Really listening to him. They’re not talking shit about his musical skills, they’re not ignoring him or the feelings he’s putting into the song, they’re sitting there with him and I just..... if you watch him, you can see that his eyes get pretty glossy throughout the song. The moment meant something to everyone.
There’s also the fact that Clementine asked him to come with her and AJ onto the boat, and to be the one in charge of the bomb... that’s a huge responsibly and he feels the pressure of that. He starts to panic a bit about if he can do it, because what if he fucks up? What if he gets them caught and makes everything worse? What if something happens to Clementine and he can’t do anything about it?
She’s there to reassure him that she believes in him, and that he can do this. They’re going to get everyone back, and he needs to focus... then he asks her to slap him which why would you? that’s dumb, so Clementine smooches him instead and like.... he physically relaxes into her because he’s comfortable and trusts her in this situation.
Also, he loves her and cares about this mission enough to cover himself and his fancy jacket in walker guts.... sure, he complains while doing so but how else is he gonna cope with rubbing rotten guts on himself to blend in with a herd of walkers?
Skipping ahead so that we’re not here all day, I wanna talk about the walk back to the school because it’s one of the most important clouis moments in the game and a huge reason that solidifies why the comic is bullshit.
Louis went off on his own to go out and find them. He didn’t know where they would be, he just knew that he had to go out and find them after making sure everyone was okay back at the school because he couldn’t bare the thought that he had lost them. And the way the AJ gets so excited to see him? and the group hug??
At this point, Louis has grown so much as a character. With Clementine by his side to support him, he’s grown stronger and more reliable. Remember how he never thought about the future? Well, now he is because his relationship with Clementine has given him a reason to long for a future. He talks about building this imaginary house with her, one he knows they can’t physically build... but it’s his way of saying we can build a home together, that he wants a future with her and AJ and everyone else. It’s such a personal conversation that flows so easy between them. Louis is more comfortable talking to her about things from his past, which is something he didn’t want to do back in ep1.
He confides in her how he’s feeling after he shot and killed Dorian, he tells her that having a home means protecting it and I just.... it’s so good, okay? And from Clementine’s side, you can feel how at ease she is with him, too. Just the way she smiles at him as they’re walking? like he’s the cutest thing and she’s so happy to have him with her?
But then we gotta deal with Minerva’s crazy ass on the bridge and well, AJ shoots Tenn and Louis is having flashbacks to Marlon and it’s not great. That’s a whole thing, and he ends up separated from them while escaping.
We don’t get to see Louis’ reaction to Clementine getting bit and losing her leg since I guess that puts a damper on the overly happy ending. But, going off of what we know about him and what I’ve explained [which isn’t even all of it, this isn’t a full Louis character analysis. if it was, it would be much longer and in multiple parts... believe it or not, I’m trying to not make this too long and only sorta failing...] we can get an idea of how he would react.
Um, to say he was upset is an understatement.
Because remember, he had no time to think and climbed over the fence, thinking he could get them to climb over and they could get away, but it didn’t work. He ended up leaving them in order to save himself since walkers were closing in on him.
But you know that he’d blame himself for the bite. A lot of, “if I had just stayed” and “I should’ve climbed back over, I should’ve stayed with you.” I’m sure there were points where it looked like Clem wouldn’t make it and I can’t imagine how much hurt he went through watching her suffer and heal from losing a leg like that.
Not only that, but knowing that AJ was the one to do it? And him thinking about what Clem’s death would do to AJ after all this? There isn’t a doubt in my mind that Louis would take care of AJ if she died. He cares about AJ, and he loves Clementine, so he be there for both of them, even if he’s still hurting from Tenn’s death.
However, Clementine didn’t die. She survived the bite and amputation, and when we flashforward, she and Louis are still happily together. Louis is right there next to her at dinner, and he’s the one to help her with her crutches. He’s there to go over future plans to meet the traveling caravan, and Clementine wants him to be the one to go.
Oh, and Louis once again forgives AJ for shooting Tenn, claiming that he understands that AJ saw something that he couldn’t. Like with Marlon, he’s not happy Tenn’s dead but he can see why AJ did it to save his life.
I just..... happy ending. Clementine and Louis are together and she’s truly happy to have found a home for her and AJ with him at Ericson.
....But then the comic thought it would be fun to say “nah.”
The comic isn’t canon, I’m still insulted that it would ever consider itself as such, but even so I can’t help but feel so frustrated about how this would destroy Louis.
He finally found someone he would consider his best friend, not just his girlfriend. She saw past that funny man persona and he trusted her enough to let her past this wall he built around himself. He let himself become vulnerable around her, he named his song after her. Their initials are carved into his piano with a heart surrounding them. He loved her.
Clementine left him feeling loved, something he probably hasn’t truly felt since he was a little boy with his parents before their divorce. She loved him even after hearing his past because she knew that wasn’t him anymore, and she helped him build the confidence he needed to step up. Because of Clementine, Louis wants to enjoy every day while also looking at the future. He isn’t lonely anymore, he has her and AJ. He’s truly happy.
So to tell me that Louis would wake up one morning only to have AJ tell him that Clementine’s gone, she’ been planning an escape without telling anyone because she wasn’t happy...? I’m sorry, but if you think that wouldn’t leave Louis absolutely devastated, then you know nothing about him as a character.
This idea is just.... look, Louis is perceptive. That’s a big part of his character, he’s perceptive of those around him. If Clementine was showing signs of being unhappy or depression, he would see it. He would notice a change. He would be able to tell if something was off, and he would ask her about it. Louis is the type of person to ask you what you need. What can he do to help? What do you need to feel better? And if you don’t know, it’s okay, he’ll help you figure it out in any way possible.
Plus, the comic suggests that there are times where she went off on her own but came back [probably doing her escape prep ugh] and you expect me to believe that Louis wouldn’t notice that or wonder what she’s doing? Wouldn’t sense that something’s going on?
After she’s gone, he’s going to blame himself for not being enough. He couldn’t make her happy and he was a fool to think he ever could. AJ lost the only family he’s known since he was born because Louis couldn’t help her, couldn’t do anything to stop her from leaving.
And for him to realize that she didn’t love him? Clementine, the girl he thought the world of because of how strong and confident and in-charge she was, because she saw him for who he was..... she left him, abandoned him... and she couldn’t even be bothered with a goodbye.... that says that she didn’t care all that much about him in the end.
You KNOW that he would think he had this coming, too. How could the universe allow him to fall in love and be happy with someone who loved him back after what he did to his parents? He would feel so heartbroken that he would see this as some sort of karma for breaking up his parents happy marriage as a kid years before he ever met Clementine and before the apocalypse.
I fucking can’t.... I don’t have the words to fully explain how much I hate this. Louis wouldn’t be okay afterward, and I doubt he’d ever fully recover. I wasn’t joking when I mentioned before that Louis would stop playing piano. How could he sit there and play when I he can see is their initials and remember the night she confessed to him? When he named his song after her? Clementine left and took the music with her because Louis wouldn’t have it in him... something that he used to cope would be ruined and that’s just.... it’s fucking awful.
Not only that, but now he has AJ who I assume is hurting just as much [though the comics inaccurately assume he would just let Clem go sooo... yeah] and he would be the only one Louis would really talk to about it, but then again.... what if AJ doesn’t wanna talk about it? What if AJ starts to act out and things just become terrible and Louis is just too overwhelmed?
I just.... UGH. That’s how I feel. UGH.
Clementine from the comic? Not her. She would never fucking do this to Louis, AJ, or anyone else at Ericson, and you would know that if you played the tfs.
Sigh.... sorry, I just needed to get this all out. I haven’t seen anyone talk about how Clem leaving would affect Louis and I’ve gotten some asks/come across some posts about Louis that have left me incredibly annoyed.... well, I was annoyed before because of the comics, so my annoyances with those things were only heightened. So yeah... I wanted to talk about Louis’ character in hopes of explaining why he would be so hurt if this comic was canon.
Which it’s not. So it’s fine.
How are we all feelin’ at this point, by the way? I know I’m not the only one still annoyed with the comic, so I hope y’all are doin’ okay. Hope you’re stayin’ chill and thinking about your faves to help cope with this mess hahaha
#twdg louis#twdg clementine#twdg clouis#twdg aj#twdg marlon#twdg violet#clouis#twdg#sometimes i just need to talk about louis okay#one day i'll do a full character analysis that goes over everything#but today isn't that day#long post
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hi! may i request hcs of the haikyuu boys watching/helping their significant other workout? maybe yoga or just a regular workout? would be sweet if it was all of them but i know there are so many, so mainly kuroo, kageyama, bokuto, oikawa and nishinoya <3 thank you!!
hi anon!! i’m sorry i didn’t do all the boys, but i wrote for the specific boys you requested. if you, or anybody else, wants these hc’s for other boys i’d love to do them hehe. hope you enjoy!
kuroo tetsurō
he’s so excited as soon as you’re like “hey wanna work out together”
like his whole body freezes up and then he just
screams
if you’re already like pretty athletic, he makes everything a competition
but doesn’t actually compete
he just wants to watch you 😏
no fr he’ll be like “i bet i can do more squats than you”
and then just doesnt squat and only watches you squat
this mf 😭
he gets way too excited and puts an alarm at 4;30 am to text you/wake you up to go on a run with him
you: see that’s what we’re not gonna do
if you’re not very athletic or you’re just starting to get accustomed to working out
he is so. encouraging
like sickeningly so
tries his best not to overwhelm you and does really basic workouts with you
but also if ur laying face down on the ground crying “i dont wanna do this anymore” he will NOT have any of it
good luck unsubscribing to his services
he just wants to see you succeed 🥺 👉🏼👈🏼
cooks you the best healthy meals you dont even feel like youre missing out on anything
now
yoga
listen he’s so cheeky
he’s so mf TOUCHY
couples yoga with kuroo >>>>
it’s so funny bc this man is so strong he can do pretty much any move that requires any type of strength but pull out the flexibility card and he will pass away on the spot
he also just likes to watch you do yoga
not just bc he’s a pervert
but also bc it’s just interesting to see you in your zone
buys you yoga pants just bc <3333
“u just wanna stare at my ass”
“how dare you i would never objectify my gf”
stares at your ass <3
kageyama tobio
remember when i said kuroo would make everything a competition but wouldn’t really care
kageyama cares
he’s so annoying youre just trynna have fun working out w ur bf but here he is trynna kill u bc he’s so much better at everything
okay but if YOURE better 🤑
it pisses him off at first but then he realizes he’s pissed off bc ur so hot and make his spine tingle
work outs with him are intense as fuck
like he goes all out
but then he helps you stretch and 😏 it’s worth it
if he’s helping you workout, he’s kinda harsher than he intends to be
and when he realizes that yk maybe he’s being a lil extra
he apologizes and just asks how you wanna do it
spends the night researching hehe
is encouraging in a demeaning way like “do you WANT to regret not working harder” ur like tobio i swear on my life i will start crying
when y’all are done he does like give u a small kiss and the sweetest smile “good work” and it makes it all the more worth it
about yoga though
when he first watched u he was horny hwbwjwks
he was like oop what is this feeling
but then it clicked lmao
avoids watching you unless you’re doing it privately so he can embarrass himself less
if you invite him to join you it’s just rigorous head shaking but he loves you sm he’ll do anything for you
he just follows your lead and is listening so attentively and is trying to mimic your movements exactly and is so awe oh my god he’s so CUTE
once ur done and ur both just laying on the ground you roll over and kind lean over him and give him a kiss “thank u for doing this with me”
“we should do it more often”
not horny just in love with you <3
bokuto kōtarō
so hyperactive good luck keeping up with him
he’s also like
built
LIKE HAVE YOU SEEN. HIM???? no way he doesnt go crazy w the work outs
if you suggest to work out together he’s so excited and he just does everything normally the way he does at 2.5x speed and you’re just like bruh 🧍🏻♀️ slow down
you do eventually find your own rhythm that kinda matches his own
and it’s nice to have him with you because like if you’re at a gym and ur using a device across the room from him he’ll just yell and wave at you and blow you a kiss god i love this dork
after you’re both spent you just sit on the ground across from each other stretching just talking just vibing
gives you a big smooch in between everything if he can
it becomes a really positive addition to your life ngl
if he’s helping you work out
he is actually the fkn BEST
despite him being a work out freak, he doesn’t force that on you in any way
if anything i think he’d be super gentle
so cheerful when encouraging you
and rewards you a lot
too much probably
“20 PUSHUPS BABE !!!! LETS GO MAKE OUT FOR 20 MINUTES”
he doesn’t just say it he really does mean it when he tells you he’s proud of you
loves it when you do yoga
immediately tries to join in
“oouu teach me this move” proceeds to fall on his ass <3
t’s okay he has a lotta cushioning 😏
he always wants to try the couples yoga moves
he saves them on his phone to show you later and you cant say no bc ur already in gear and the yoga mat is on the ground hehe
(if you watch cody ko and kelsey kreppel’s couples yoga video that’s basically how it goes with you two)
^^^ in one of the moves he has to like lift you up by your arms as youre sitting down and he’s standing and he accidentally just shoves your face into his crotch
you both couldn’t stop laughing until you nearly peed and thats the beauty of love
oikawa tōru
he has to repeatedly ask you if you’re s u r e you wanna work out with him
if you’re s u r e you can keep up
please hand his cocky ass to him <3
if you’re athletic, prepare to have him try to one up you every time you do something
it’s so sweet though cause he’s so determined and he’s sticking his tongue out between his lips and you’re just like baby please what is this
tells you to lay beneath him while he does push ups so he can kiss you
you complain about how sweaty he is but really you just want him to take his shirt off <3
okay two important things i want to go over
one. oikawa does not know when to stop. so, honestly, you probably suggested to work out with him to keep him in check and make sure he doesn’t overwork himself
please make him drink water and take breaks when necessary :(
two. his knee :( he would probably need to be very careful and he’ll teach you the correct way to massage it and prep it before he does any critical work
if you approach him one day about helping you work out cause you’re clueless — yes it will get to his head
but like ??? he’s your boyfriend??? your very athletic boyfriend???
who else would u ask tf 😹
anyways he makes a whole like list and shit
organizes it so well with color coding and different handwriting
keeps you up to date with your progress and always says things like “look how well you’re doing babe!” and gives you a hugeeee hug
now, oikawa is either weirdly flexible, or not flexible at all
we’re gonna go for the first one for this yoga hc
joins you randomly and starts doing the poses correctly right away ur like ??? sir ???
distracts you. so much.
“can i have a kiss— another one?— one more— one more babe— okay an—“
make out sessions ensued :)
nishinoya yū
actually i think noya would like to be in own zone kinda thing when he’s working out
probably blasting some katy perry in his ears ngl
but when you tell him you wanna go work out with him??
now you’re both blasting katy perry in your ears
stares. stares so much. provocatively.
he’s your bf so you get it
but women have come up to you in the gym asking if you’re okay hbwjwkwe
makes you try out his routine while he tries out yours
“wow babe this is sooo easy” he’s dying dont believe him
you guys probably have a handshake that’s so motivating to do before and after eeekkkk he probably makes you feel SO good about yourself after
takes you to eat the unhealthiest shit he can find after a workout because why not right ? chivalry? undead 😻
if you ask him for help he’ll accept right away
competes with you to help you improve
“one day babe you’ll be beating me at these with such ease”
he’s the loud kind of encouraging
yells a lot
like so much
body worship all the time <3333
“god u look SO good right now i love you so much”
this simp i love him sm
anyways. onto yoga
did i mention he stares 👁👁
because he does
he already knows you do yoga and he will find out your schedule
just. likes to watch you tbh
if you offer to do couples yoga with him he refuses bc he likes the view where he is lmfao
there are so many tiktoks of him just doing the dances while you calmly do yoga
it becomes a trend lmfaowjwnsj
anyways yes best supportive bf award goes to noya (actually all of them who am i kidding)
end note; MY BEST FRIEND PAINTED AKAASHI FOR MY BDAY GIFT I STOPPED BREATHING ,,, anyways i hope y’all enjoyed this!! feel free to request some more mwah
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#kuroo x reader#kuroo headcanons#oikawa x reader#oikawa headcanons#bokuto x reader#bokuto headcanons#kageyama x reader#kageyama headcanons#nishinoya x reader#nishinoya headcanons
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Hawk’s eye| 18+
pairings: hawks [keigo tamaki] x female! reader
summary: hawks is in his rut, desperate for some relief. his annoying secretary won’t stop irritating him so he decides to take his pent up frustrations on her. ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
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anonymous said:
hi!! so while the requests are still open, could you write some headcannons for Hawks x reader when he's in rut? maybe the reader is a bit clueless and doesn't even know he goes through stuff like that? dirty details are welcome 👀❤️
this was high-key inspired by @tainted-wine‘s this fic. (i hope u like my take on it !! 💓)
a/n: aaaa this took so much longer than i thought it would take 😭, also thanks @the-grimm-writer for proof reading this! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) also this is porn w plot so if u just was to skip to da porn. skip to this ‘◌’ bhai
ALSO THANKYOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS LMAO WTF FOR REAL 😭
tagging: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa, @koiibito, @reinawritesbnha, @shorkbrian
warnings: noncon, hate fucking, one slap, she bites his dick at some point, scumbag hawks.
word count: 5862
navigation
The sound of your phone buzzing on the side table with a loud, irritating noise jolts you awake. You roll around on the bed, your fingers reaching to turn the vibrating device off. Groaning, you sit up straight. The warm mattress under you threatens to lull you back to sleep but you shove the thought away instead choosing to stretch your arms over your head and yawn endlessly. You were tired, so goddamn tired. Rubbing your temples lazily you start thinking about the dreadful day you have ahead of yourself. You think about your boss: Hawks, the man who makes you hate your life and job. He has trapped you into a never-ending nightmare which starts the second you open your eyes till the moment you fall asleep and even then he still manages to haunt you in your dreams.
Cleaning up after his messes, obeying his ever so pliantly. He has turned you into his little pet slave. He says that it’s your job as you are his assistant, his little helper there to make his job a little less hectic. You must listen to his needs and wants and to some degree, you do agree with him: it is your job, it’s what you signed up for after all but you can also sense him misusing his title when he is with you. He never listens to your suggestions which results in him calling you late after work hours to help with his problems knowing damn well you had already warned him beforehand. And, oh his flirty, suggestive comments which borderline sexual harassment. Hawks is a difficult man to work with and you often find yourself wondering how much calmer your life would be if you never worked for him but you do not have that luxury of leaving the job. It pays ridiculously well and you have bills to pay, your family to support. No, you cannot afford to lose this job. So you sit through his torment and hope for the best.
Seconds later after you have gathered your will to live you start scrolling through your phone, skimming through the morning news lazily. Your eyebrows furrow and eyes turn into angry slits as you glance upon a displeasing, astonishing article.
‘No. 2 Hero Hawks spotted partying with strippers–’
Your heart stops for a moment.
What the fuck was this?
You hesitantly read through the article, your heartbeat increasing every second that your eyes focus on the led screen, reading the details of the damned article. Eyes widening as panic settles in your nerves, you realize the gravity of the situation you had found yourself under as Hawks’ manager. Hawks had been spotted partying with strippers in a nightclub with a bunch of celebrities. The crazy stalker who had managed to follow him succeeded in capturing exclusive pictures of Hawks dressed in an expensive suit, his hair styled to perfection dancing under the dim lights of the club with women in basically their underwear shamelessly grinding upon him. You honestly couldn’t have given a single fuck about what Hawks did in his free time but since he had managed to get a paparazzi to tail him and now that his career was at risk; it became your problem. Your first and foremost instinct was to call Hawks and ask him what the hell he was thinking. Not being careful enough, he had managed to taint his entire reputation. The people of Japan now probably viewed him as a reckless party animal rather than the No. 2 Hero!
Before you could call him, your phone’s screen lights up illuminating a contact you dread. ‘Hero Commission’ it’s written in bold letters, your face drops. Your fingers shake, filled with anxiety as you accept the call. Inhaling and exhaling, you try to calm your nerves. If it is a call from the Commission, you know it’s bad. Bad.
You pick up the phone and instantly regret it, “What were you doing?” an angry, masculine voice snarls through the screen. You open your mouth to answer but are not given a chance too. “How did you let him go to a strip club during patrol hours?” you bite your lip thinking of an acceptable excuse, “He had to go there for work! It’s a misunderstanding. He went down to the strip club undercover to meet up with a crook to get some intel– that’s what he told me. This is a misunderstanding, I–” your explanation was cut short as the person on the other end of the call deemed it enough. “Whatever it is, fix it and never let this happen again.” he sneers a warning before cutting the call. It wasn’t a complete lie, Hawks did tell you that he was investigating a case on his own and that he would be gaining information from shady people but you did not expect him to go to a strip club out of all places. The worst part: he never even told you in detail anything about this case neither did he notice the paparazzi tailing his back. You sigh in frustration, rubbing your forehead, you quickly ring up his number only for it be sent right to voicemail. You almost scream. Where the fuck was this bastard?
Managing Hawks was not a walk in the park. The hero commission had sent you down especially to be Hawks’ secretary. You had a reputation: you were known to be responsible, diligent, and punctual. You were one of their best, entrusted with the responsibility to manage Hawks and you did a good job but it was Hawks who just made the job so hard.
Creating problems he could never solve by himself; on lucky days you would get a call from him at three in the morning, him begging you to come to help him. You want to say no, deny him any help. Let him suffer by himself but you cannot do that. If he screws up and you are not there to fix it. You lose your job, you can’t afford that. You give your 100%, you do but it’s Hawks. He has a problem with you, well, he has a problem with everyone in the commission but projects it mainly at you. He does not respect you.
He chooses to ignore your decisions and suggestions, diminishing them with a cruel chuckle, “Look, I need you but just not now.” He would say with an apologetic smile, “just let me work at my own pace, I will call when I will need you. After all, I love seeing your cute face.” You would always have to force yourself from not slapping his smug face before he took off into the bright, blue sky.
The truth untold, it wasn’t his fault completely either. He was just so fast. It was hard for anyone to keep up with him and since he did his job right; bringing peace to the nation you could not deem him worthless. But it still was a bother at times like this when you were left completely in the dark while Hawks ruined his hard-earned reputation.
You got into the building earlier that morning to wait for Hawks in his office, you needed to talk to him. This was not his first mishap. Not long ago, another article about him shamelessly flirting with a fan had been published. It had said the fan was visibly uncomfortable with him but Hawks didn’t seem to care, he kept presting. You had managed to cover it up as the two being close friends who were publicly joking around, there was no real harm done. It was a lie though, you had to pay the fan a large check to keep her mouth shut. She accepted the money and the story was lost and forgotten but you had no idea how you were going to cover this hell up.
The clock struck nine as the day began, people rushing into the building all tensed but there was no sign of Hawks. You tried calling him on his number but the call directed to voicemail yet again. You were growing impatient, did something happen to him? Sure Hawks fucked things over sometimes but he never disappeared like this. It got you genuinely worried. Something horrible could have happened to him. After all, he was on a case.
You waited for another thirty minutes and there was yet no sign of him. His sidekicks came knocking on his office door only to be surprised to see you there instead of their boss. You told them to continue with their day and not worry about Hawks, he was just awfully late. Not a big deal, he will be here soon. Soon.
Another hour passed by, no sign of Hawks and about now your phone was blowing up with angry calls from his sponsors and business partners, screaming at the top of their lungs frowning upon the scandal. Heck, even Endeavor called you after he couldn’t reach Hawks himself. The call made you nervous as anxiety crept in yet again. Hawks wasn’t answering to Endeavour something bad must have happened. Getting tired of the wait, you make up your mind to drop by his penthouse and to go see him for yourself. His silence was driving you crazy and worried at the same time, you just hoped he would be there well and safe. You could not imagine the ruckus that would create if something were to happen to him.
You walked out of his office after waiting for an hour. Rushing down to the basement you got into your car and before driving away to his house. Just before leaving, you decided to test your luck by calling him. Hoping, praying he would answer this time and luckily he did .
“Hawks!” you cried, a wave of relief washing over you, “Where are you? What are you doing?” you began pestering him with questions, not letting him answer even once. Hawks, tired of waiting, interrupted your monologue of questions with a chuckle. “Aw, you’re worried about me, baby?” his tone was low and mischievous, the sentence slurring almost into a moan at the last word. You rolled your eyes and clenched your fists in irritation, you weren’t new to his teasing. Hawks thought it was appropriate for him to casually flirt with his secretary. Send unasked comments about your figure, perverted implications about what he would do to a ‘cute little thing like you’ which made you very uncomfortable being around him at times. But it wasn’t that what made him get on your last nerves. It was the fact that he could even think about joking at a time like this which made you furious.
You screamed into the phone, giving him a piece of your mind. Degrading him for not taking care of himself, complaining about how he had managed to put you in such a tight spot.
“Once again I am asking, where the fuck are you. Hawks?” you ended your speech with spite in your words. Hawks sighed, “I am in the office,” he says your name with an edge in his voice, instantly shutting you down, “Where the hell are you?” The smugness in his tone remains and you can tell he is smirking on the other side of the screen as if he’s won. You hang up abruptly before walking out of your car and into the building, hurriedly making your way towards Hawk’s office.
You slam the door open glaring upon hawks as he sits behind his table. Dirty boots resting pliantly on the shiny, polished wood. His wings out, stretched to their fullest, filling up the room standing on high alert. They have a deeper hue to them, they look darker– a darker red. How did that happen? You find yourself wondering. Is he on drugs? His face is tilted upwards, facing the ceiling. Eyes screwed shut. They open as he hears you enter and walk towards him, his wings falling back behind him calm and collected.
“You’re late,” he says with a smirk, you bang your fist on the table beside where his feet rest, making him flinch and bring them down instinctively. His eyes widened in shock, he was not expecting you to be this furious. Sure, he knew he knew he had gotten you mad but he was not expecting you to be this angry. Without any hesitation, you start scolding him again. He watches you ramble in ominous glee. A poker face masking his expression, he watches you trot about how much trouble he is in. His job is to protect meek and weak citizens who cannot fight for themselves, what he was doing in a strip in the name of business is something you cannot grasp your head around. You repeat your lecture which you had already tortured him over the phone while the entire time Hawks drums his fingers underneath the table, waiting for you to get over with your dumb speech. His eyes trail on your lips, watching it move. Plump, pillow-like features tinted dark red ramble on about how much of an irresponsible person he was. Complaining about how much trouble he puts you through daily. Honestly, he doesn’t quite catch what you were saying. His mind busy imaging you shutting the fuck and letting him get through the day– or better yet how pathetic you would look underneath him while he shoves his dick down your throat. The thought makes his cock throb. His eyes change from an unbothered, bored look to something sinister as they start trailing all over your body. His eyebrows slightly furrow as he catches up on the few degrading terms you throw at him.
You talked too much. Way too much, do you realize how much better you would look if you keep your pretty, little mouth shut? The entire time, it’s always: Hawks don’t do this, Hawks don’t do that. Don’t you ever get tired? He wonders whether your dumb little brain had any thoughts other than the ones which tell you to irritate him all the time. You should shut up, really stop talking. He might do something bad, he’s already stressed enough as it is being in his rut and having no way to relieve himself, he is going through a rough time here. The other night he escaped to a strip club in hopes of relieving some stress and it had worked but it had also brought along a mind splitting scandal.
The entire morning, Hawks was busy avoiding people. Whether it be his fans, reporters, or even someone he knew; he paid no mind to them trying to get to the office as soon as possible to deal with the mess he had created.
It wasn’t his fault entirely, he was in his rut and needed sexual relief which he was finding very hard to receive. With his work piling up and you breathing down his neck, he couldn’t even take represents as they slowed him down. He couldn’t risk falling asleep on duty. A stupid, little headline about what he does in his free time was much more favorable than a failed mission in which he would let countless innocent lives slip by his fingers.
He watches you ramble, his eyes trailing over your body locking on your tits. He stares at them intensely, watching them bounce slowly every time you huff out of irritation and frustration. Your work shirt works him favors, the white almost translucent material shows off the slightest shadow of your black, lacy bra. It’s enough to get him going- imaging how your soft mounds would feel in his hands. How you would whimper under his touch as he tugs and pulls on your perky nipples, you probably wouldn’t sound as monstrous as you do right now. Your moans would be girlish, small whimpers would leave your lips as you would try your best to cover them up. You would try to hide your face under his assault but he wouldn’t let you, pinning you down instead and forcing himself on you while you cried for him to stop. Beg for his mercy.
He can feel his jeans tighten.
“So please, Hawks. Just be a little more responsible.” you finish, your voice turning into a plea. He hums and apologizes for his impulsive thinking, like always, he is not sorry. “Let's fix this mess, what do you say?” he asks with an apologetic grin, trying to be polite. You on the other hand don’t even spare him a glance, walking right out the door instead. It leaves him very offended.
◌
“Ah! What a troublesome day it was,” Hawks chimes in walking into his office with you closely following behind, “It was all your fault.” you spit making hawks chuckle, “Whatever happens, happens for the good.” he says, a scoff leaves your lips, “What was good about that?” you ask annoyed. “I get to have you alone with me now~” Hawks winks at you making you roll your eyes dramatically. Both of you stand together in Hawks’ office after hours. The day is done, everyone in the agency building has taken their leave excluding the two of you. It had been a long day fixing up after Hawks. You were tired and all you wanted was a warm bath and some sleep.
“Do you want to know why it happened?” Hawks asks out of the blue, “What happened?” you question, “Why was I at the strip club?” you sigh, “I don’t give two shits about your personal life, Hawks.” replying sternly. A look of disappointment arises on his face, “It’s actually more than that, really, I u-uh have this condition- it gets very hard to work during these times-”
“What are you even talking about?” You interject confused and clueless. You turn to him, a glare evident on your face you stare at him sheepishly. What was he on about now?
“I am serious, I went into my rut, and that's why I went to the strip club-” “Into a what?” Hawks’ eyes widened, were you really that clueless? “A rut, [y/n],” he says like it is a matter of fact, something everybody is aware of. “A rut. You know like how some animals go into heat and they-” your face scrunches as he explains his rut to you, you visibly grow more and more repulsed. Hawks studies you face, his heart genuinely breaking at your expressions. “Why are you telling me this?” you screech, “jeez Hawks, I did not need to know any of that!” you continue.
Hawks is hurt, he accepted a reaction which showed more concern. Maybe he went a bit too far imagining that you would offer him help but seeing you so disgusted by him shattered his heart and made him lose all his respect for you. You were a terrible human being, no different from those villains he put behind the bars every day. “I am telling you all of this because- this actually happens! Many- fuck- millions of people like me actually suffer from this shit! You should be a little more emphatic.” he reasons. He accepts you to understand at least now but you gloriously manage to disappoint him yet again. A rude snarl leaves your lips followed by a scoff, “What are you really trying to tell me Hawks? That you don’t want to do your job and to justify your laziness; you are making lame excuses now?” you shove a finger to his chest, it pushes him off the edge.
Something in his snaps, he looks down where your fingertip touches his chest. You are smaller than him, he’s at least a foot bigger than you. Where does your bratty, puny self get all this confidence from? His eyes darken as something sinister floats within him. He stares down at your finger, wanting to rip it off. He wants to see you cry. He wants to see you in pain and misery, suffering a great deal while nobody comes to help you.
“Hawks, you know what? I am so done with your bullshit. I am leaving.” You turn away from him, heading to the door but before you could move a step. Hawks grabs you by writs, caging your delicate hand into a bone-crushing death grip, “What the fuck?” you question, “Hawks?” you continue. You wait for his response, turning to him. He is facing the floor, his hair scanning over his eyes making it impossible for you to read his expression, not that you could read what was going on with him normally but now; it’s even harder. “Are you going to let go?” you ask again only to be met by him squeezing your wrists even tighter. You bring your other hand over him to pry yourself free from his clutches but he doesn’t want to let go.
“Hawks wha-” you don’t get to complete your statement as Hawks pushes you down on the floor making you fall on your butt. You let out a loud hiss. You frown, yelling out “What is wrong with you!?” You try to stand back up but his hands settle on your shoulder pushing you back down. You try fighting but it’s to no use. Did you forget he is the no. 2 Pro- Hero? He is much stronger than you, he brings down villains twice his size daily. What makes you think your weak kicks and punches will be enough to beat him?
You keep struggling under him, screaming how you were going to report him and ruin his career, how he is going to be sorry for messing with you.
“Shut. Up.” he finally speaks, he brings his gloved hand to your perfectly styled hair. Pulling tightly on your roots he stretches your face upwards, making it easier for him to look down on you while you cry in agony, “Stop crying.'' His voice is deep and raspy, much different from how he usually talks. You look up at him, fear swimming in your eyes as tears prick at the corners of your sockets, lips trembling. If you already weren’t terrified enough, your horror becomes tenth fold when you see his boner raging in his pants, “Come, on. Hawks..” your voice is small and weak, it's a broken cry. You know what he is going to make you do. He was going to violate you, break you beyond repair.
This was so wrong. As much you hated Hawks, you never would have thought he would do something like this. Hawks was a hero. He is meant to fight for justice, punish evil. Why is he doing this? “Hawks no. Please. Was it something I said? I take it back I didn’t mean it-”
“You know, y/n, you are not so different from those villains yourself,” if looks could kill, you would be dead. The pure, anger, and hatred he looks at you with bothers you. It makes you hate yourself, there is something sinister in his eyes which makes you sure about the fact that he is not afraid of hurting you. He has given up on you, after all, his polite gestures, generosity you always ignored- he’s fed up with your sheer ignorance and your ego. He hates you. He does and heck if he wasn’t in his rut; he would never bring his dick anywhere near you. He does not respect you as a human and in no way does he have any romantical attachment to you. All he ever saw was a walking alarm clock, bugging him every second, and now all he is going to see you as is his cocksleeve whom he can stuff his fat cock into whenever and however he seems fine. To him you are just a walking hole he can ruin whenever he wants to, you have managed to get on his bad side and he is going to show you his bad side.
He undoes his belt, his pants falling to his thighs displaying his expensive boxers and his growing hardness. His cock is throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His free hand pulls his boxers down and his cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. It stands long and hard, the tip blushed red and angry, tiniest bit of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit. He pumps his cock in his hand before forcing it against your mouth, pressing it to your lips smearing his pre all over your lips. You whimper in protest, moving your head the littlest you can under his tight grip. “Bitch open up. You had this coming for a long time,” his dick slaps your cheek while his fingers try to pry open your mouth. Pushing his gloved digits forcefully into your mouth, the rough fabric feels disgusting on your tongue. His fingers capture the lower part of your jaw, tearing your mouth apart with deranged strength. A loud cry escapes from you as he stuffs your empty mouth full of his cock, “Yeah, that’s more like it. Fuck.” he bottoms out into your throat, his shaft hitting the back of your throat making you gag, “get on with it. A slut like you would have the experience, right?” he taunts you. You do as he says, puckering your lips firmly around his length, your hands resting on his exposed thighs while you stroke him with your tongue. You feel his chiseled thigh muscles flex under your fingers as he melts in pleasure, tiny moans leaving his lips shamelessly.
As Hawks drowns in overwhelming pleasure, a criminal idea crosses your mind. Your eyes trail up to his face. His eyes are screwed close, he bites his lower lip softly. Carefully and slowly, you graze your teeth over his cock. Clamping down on it lightly, you hold your position. Your heart beats faster when Hawks stiffens and in a quick flash, he pushes you off his cock throwing you into the ground before backing up, squealing in pain.
“YOU LITTLE BITCH!” he screams, you sprint to the door. Trembling fingers try to unlock the doorknob while Hawks cries in agony behind you. You can feel him loom behind you, ready to come for your neck. A part of you tells you that you will not make it but the adrenaline rushing in your veins calls to be hopeful. Just open the door and just run.
Your cold, quivering fingers almost unlock the heavy wooden door but before you can push it open. Hawks appears right behind you, pushing his body onto your back. You feel his cock poking at your ass, his hand grabs your head pulling you, prying you off the door. You scream and cry trying to break free, grabbing his hand clawing on it to let you free. Hawks chooses to show no mercy as he drags you by your hair to his desk, your scalp hurts from his grip. You can feel tiny strands breakaway. He turns you around and slams your back to his wooden desk, you whimper at the contact. He stands in front of you, pressing his knee between your thighs. His hand reaches out to pull at your collar, forcing you to look at him.
He is livid, eyebrows furrowed with a death glare his jaw clenched, and his eyes darker than you have ever seen before. He looks at you with murderous intent, you think he might as well kill you with his wings flared open. The feathers turning into knives, you beg for your life.
Hawks observes your face. Broken, scared for your life your eyes are glassy, ridden in fear your makeup smeared all over your face. He thinks it's beautiful, he has finally got you begging for mercy, finally thinking of him as the man he is. He appreciates your submission but it does not erase the fact that you just bite oh his dick. You beg for mercy, your voice is small and broken. It comes barely above a whisper, “I am so sorry hawks, please don’t do this.” He doesn’t listen, staring at you head-on with his jaw clenched. He brings his free hand to the air, keeping it steady for a second before bringing it down with a horrendous force. You feel it before it happens; white, hot flashing pain erupts through your cheek stinging you hard. You cry out in agony as your face drops to the other side. The strike was powerful, it left you sore, you can still feel it sting your face. It leaves you swollen, you try to bring your hand up to your face lightly to carcasses you paining cheek but Hawks pushes your face on the wooden desk before you could, trapping your arms behind your back holding it with one hand. “You don’t realize your position, do you? You know what? I was going- planning to be gentle with you. I thought I would at least make you cum but now,” he pulls a feather out his wings preceding to tear open your pencil skirt with the sharp end. The ripped fabric falls to the ground leaving you in your panties and the pantyhose you always wear under your skirts, “There we go. I hope you are a pain slut, otherwise you would really not enjoy this.” he says with a small chuckle before ripping you out of your bottoms, leaving you in your panties completely vulnerable to him. He abandons his gloves, rubbing his fingers on your clothed cunt roughly trying to gather slickness from your dry hole. Pleasure shoots down your body as his digits find your clit, rubbing tight circles on the little pearl, “Does this feel good? You are getting wet.” a smirk scars his face, “Who gets off to being raped?” he says sharply. Your face scrunches up in disgust and embarrassment. A heavy lump forms in your throat and the waterworks that you had been holding off burst open. Big, fat tears roll down your cheeks as you cry for mercy. You didn't know why this was happening to you, for your entire life you had been a nice person: always helpful, sensitive, and kind. At least, that was what you thought yourself to be. Never in a million years could you- or anyone, in fact, could have ever thought that you would be crying pathetically while your boss: a person known to all as a Hero, the truest, most honest person to exist ever would be the one defiling you, tearing you down to nothing just for his pleasure.
“Shut up, you like this.” He snarls at you, so sick of your loud wails he even shoves two fingers inside your mouth plunging them to the back of her throat, “Don’t you dare bite now, slut.” he warns. His fingers stop prodding at your clit when he notices the wet spot forming on your panties, he wastes no time shimming them down to your ankles, whistling when he sees your glistening pussy. You only wail louder pleading him not proceed any further. Hawks turns a blind eye to all your begging, “I should just shove it in, right?” he asks petting his finger over your hole, “but that won’t be fun,” he snickers. You feel his move away from your cunt and move higher. Panic settles, he couldn't be serious, “Hawks. Please no. Please don’t. I don-” finger rims along your asshole, inching to dip in, “What? Don’t want me to fuck your ass?” he spanks your ass hard making you flinch, “Please I’ve never-” you cry out hoping he would understand, “No one’s ever fucked you in the ass before?” you whine at the lewd words which shamelessly fall from his lips, “Guess there’s a first for everything.” he says with a scoff.
His digits bury into your hole, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The stretch burns, filling a fresh set of tears rolling down your eyes, smudging your mascara and eyeliner You looked like a whore. He keeps hammering his fingers inside you without mercy, a loud whine leaves your lips as you feel a tingle of pleasure from him hitting the right spot. “Do you like that? Too bad, this isn’t for you.” he moves his fingers from you before lining his fat cock to your almost too tiny hole, “How will this fit?” he laughs to himself, pressing his engorged tip in slowly, “Will be a tight fit,” he continues to shove his cock into your hole, his face turns off one to ecstasy as your walls take him inch by inch. You scream in pain, his cock was much bigger than his fingers. It was stretching you out, numbing your mind and soul, you did not know how much more you could take. Salty tears fell from your eyes as Hawks bottomed himself in you, he waited for a moment before starting to thrust into you unforgivingly. Dragging his fat cock out and your walls pulling him right back in. As he kept ramming into you. Slowly, you start to pleasure tingle up your spine as his tip smashed against the right spots. Your cries of pain turn to pleasurable moans. Hawks wastes no time in teasing you, “Look at you moaning like a slut,” he spanks your ass with swift force sending your rear to sting. You feel unbearable pleasure starting to build up in your abdomen, a straining coil wanting to burst which each of Hawks’ strong thrusts yet it is left unfilled as the simulation is not enough to make you cum from all alone. Hawks notices this, the pitiful crying for him to touch your swollen little clit which was begging to be played with. He almost thought he would give it to you, after all, he was a good person. Almost.
Hawks just snicker, his cruel, sadistic laugh echoing in the room, “No, no, no.” he teases, “no matter how much you cry, baby. I am not letting you cum. This is your punishment, you deserve this. You’ve been a bad girl.” Hawks couldn’t formulate how he was able to form complete sentences. The moment he had caught you, he had let himself go feral. Dragging you down like a predator, he finally had you under him. He kept grunting and breathing profanity down your ear along with shameful praises about how well your slutty ass takes him. He is glad he is finally getting his much-deserved relief but he is not done yet. He won’t be done until he is filling your vulnerable womb with his seed, he won’t be done until he hears you asking him to give you his children. He is not going to leave you be until he has destroyed you, balls deep in your tiny pussy. He is going to keep you here all night fucking you, he is going to stay there all night fucking you with hate which he has buried within himself for you over the years. He is going to melt you in his hand, break you until only he can build you up, and maybe he will not let you go even after that. Maybe he will keep you after all hawks mate for life.
Just hope he lets you cum the next time.
#tw: noncon#hawks x reader#yandere hawks x reader#bnha hawks#my hero academia hawks#yandere hawks#hawks#wing hero hawks#hawksbnha#hawks imagine#hawks scenarios#hawks x reader smut#hawks smut#hawks fanfic#my hero academia#my hero acdemia x reader#my hero academia fanfiction#my hero academy fanfiction#dabi my hero academia#my hero acdemia imagine#bnha#bnha fanfiction#bnha manga#bnha fanart#momo bnha#bnha smut#bnha x reader#bnha yandere#yandere#yandere smut
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Now that the undatables are datable, can I see some thoughts on a jealous Diavolo who wants to hoard the mc? Just maybe a punishment for going on a trip to the human world with some of the bros and leaving him behind. Or he’s upset about how little time he can grab between the demon bros eating up all of their attention and his own duties. He’s just so cute, and I’m so happy he’s finally a surprise guest!!!!!
Bruh ask me!!!! Everyday I open the app to be welcomed by the handsome demon-king-in-making and my heart goes doki doki ♥ I decided I need a change of mind since I worked on the book for four days straight, so I wrote you a scenario instead of just my thoughts! Thanks for requesting and please enjoy!
»»———————— ♡ ————————««
Humming, you were led down the hallways of the Demon Lord’s castle. With a smile and short waves, you greeted the little devils that passed you, snickering and welcoming you back. You had only been back home in the human world for a weekend, but they all seemed awfully joyous that their exchange student had returned, even though you couldn’t pinpoint why that was.
Thanking the Little D that led you to Diavolo’s study, it swirled around you, giggling for a moment before leaving you alone, and you took a deep breath before knocking on the massive doors that separate you from the room. With a hint of anticipating nervousness, you waited for an answer, hoping Diavolo would be as happy to see you as you were to see him. Over your time in the Devildom - no matter how harsh the truths you had discovered were and how often you had questioned your capabilities since you met the brothers - you had grown quite fond of the Lord, always knowing he supported your progress and time here.
“Yes?” it called out from inside. You had no doubt that Diavolo knew everyone who knocked at his door, but it was still nice that his voice never lost a certain tinge of curiosity when he called someone in. With your smile growing wider, you entered, looking into the instantly brightening face of the man of the hour.
“[Name]!” he called out, jumping out of his chair like an excited child, and you greeted Barbatos quickly before focusing your attention on the Lord in front of you. “I am back!” you announced, holding up the small package with sweets you brought as a gift from your trip.
“Where have you been?” he asked, his voice urgent despite the smile on his face. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“Huh?” you muttered in surprise. “I thought Lucifer was going to tell you that we were visiting my home for the weekend?”
“Is that so?” Diavolo grumbled under his breath, expression faltering and becoming somber for a moment before the corners of his lips curled up again. He opened his arm as he approached you, adding, “It’s good you’re back then.”
Even before he could reach you, you quickly handed over the package in your hand to Barbatos, who whispered a short, “His majesty was a little... tense this weekend.” Then spoke up louder, “I shall prepare some tea.”
With that, he was gone, and Diavolo pulled you into a hug, an affection you two had grown used to. It was wild for a mere human like you to embrace the future Demon Lord, but you weren’t complaining, especially not since it was Diavolo’s wish to act more normal with you. “I’m sorry. I really thought Luci was going to keep you updated,” you mumbled into his hug, and Diavolo let out a long, sad sigh that tugged on your heartstrings.
“I can think about why,” Diavolo revealed, and your curiosity perked up at that, showing in your face when you finally brought some distance between you two. “Why?” you asked, unsure what he could mean, but Diavolo’s answer kept you waiting while his eyes scanned all over you, inspecting all of you as if he hadn’t seen you in years. “It’s not a surprise. Anyone would want you all to themselves.”
Furrowing your brows, you let yourself be led to the discussion couch in the middle of the room, sitting down together with Diavolo on his urging. “If Lucifer had told me, I’d have insisted on tagging along. I am sure he wanted to be the only one to have all of your attention this weekend.”
Spluttering, you felt the heat shoot into your head as you shook it vehemently. “It’s not like that! I just showed him around my hometown, and we had all kinds of foods, and...” your words trailed off as you heard the door behind you open again, Barbatos walking in with an apologetic smile as if he had interrupted something, tea tray in his hands.
“As I said, it was just a change of scenery.” Clearing your throat, you tried to change the topic, looking Diavolo straight in the eyes as you spoke up. For a moment, you thought to notice a disapproving gleam in his eyes, but you merely spoke over the bad feeling his unusual stern expression and crossed arms gave you. “What have you been up to? I hope you didn’t just have to work all weekend!”
Prolonging his response, Diavolo hummed thoughtfully before sitting up straight and opening up his arms to receive the cup of tea Barbatos was handing to him, and afterwards to you. “That’s all, Barbatos,” he confirmed to his servant, the latter bowing before taking his leave. You thanked Barbatos too and took a sip of the hot beverage, letting the delicate aromas of the drink fill your nose.
“I’ve... I’ve been busy, yeah,” Diavolo eventually simply admitted, an uncommon short answer coming from him. Not like he had much leisure to tell endless tales, but usually, he talked in longer sentences. “It’s been a quiet weekend, and I actually wanted to ask you to join me for tea, but I guess my message never reached you.”
“Oh, no...” you mumbled, realizing that since your DDD didn’t have reception in the human world, you hadn’t even checked it once in all this time. Not even know had you charged it and looked at it, having come directly to the castle instead after your return. A crude mistake on your side.
“It’s no problem.” A short smile crossed his lips as Diavolo looked into your regretful eyes. “I am used to it. You are always up to something with the brothers, so I am not surprised when you didn’t reply.” But disappointed. The words he didn’t speak were plainly visible on his face, and you felt a sting in your heart knowing that your carelessness had upset him. Biting your lip as you thought, you decided to make it up to him in the best way you could come up with.
“I’m sorry, your Highness... But I am here now! How about I wait for you to finish your work and we can go out together and have dinner? Promise I won’t leave this time!” Laughing, you tried to lift the mood, and at first, he gave you a raised brow and a somewhat skeptical look, but soon enough, even the Lord couldn’t resist your smile, chiming in softly.
“Here, let me,” he prompted, taking your cup from you and filling it up with fresh, warm tea even though you hadn’t even finished. Being only able to see his back, you could only assume he even put sugar into the new brew for you, stirring your cup dutifully. It was an honor to receive such a treatment from someone like Diavolo, and you made sure to thank him plenty when he handed the cup back to you.
“I think spending some time with you is a good idea. This weekend I’ve just been a bit too gloomy for everyone in the castle, I think. Can you believe it? I broke half of the entire inventory on tea sets we own in my frustration.”
Diavolo laughed out loudly while you couldn’t help but feel concerned about what he just revealed to you. It didn’t sound very healthy that he’d let out his mood on the items around him, much less on the people who had to endure the chaos he caused. Giving him a forced polite smile, you decided it was best to let him talk while you sipped your tea. It was almost too sweet now to enjoy it, but since Diavolo went out of his way to prepare it, who were you to refuse the gesture just because it was a little sweet?
“Everytime they brought me a new one, I felt so lonely since you never responded. Eventually, Barbartos decided no more tea for me.” His laugh became even louder as you felt your stomach twist anxiously, not liking what you were hearing.
“But now you’re here.” Diavolo’s eyes focused back on you, blinking innocently as if he didn’t just reveal that he caused quite an unnecessary troubles. He opened his mouth, breathing in visibly before he continued to speak, one of his hands coming down to lay on your free one resting in your lap. “Let’s not talk about the past anymore. We should think about what we want to do when you wake up instead!”
“When I wake up?” you questioned, confused. Was this a dream? Did Diavolo meet you while you were asleep still? But everything and even his touch felt so real and warm, it couldn’t be. “Well, I didn’t think I’d stay the night. There’s school tomorrow, right?” you chuckled jokingly, nudging him slightly, but when you continued to talk, your voice betrayed you, cracking as you felt a nervous pull inside of you.
“I... I just thought we could go for dinner later, so we have enough time to prepare for tomorrow at home.”
As if on cue, the moment you finished your sentence, you looked back at Diavolo, feeling suddenly very light-headed. “I heard you, [Name].” Diavolo spoke slowly, sounding a bit like he was talking to a toddler, trying to pronounce his words clearly. “But you said it. You’re not leaving this time, and a promise is a promise.”
“W-What... What’s going on... ?”
Indifferent to your growing discomfort, Diavolo took the cup of tea from you, putting it down on the coffee table before inching closer to you. An arm wrapped around your shoulders while another pressed between your knees and the couch, all while you felt dizzy and dizzier, your body slowly but surely growing heavy. “I think I deserve some extra time with you, and tonight must suffice for now. Maybe even tomorrow? Let’s see how long the magic lasts. Do you like movies?”
Really, it was more of a monologue by now as you could barely manage to speak anymore, being hit by seemingly the weight of the world as Diavolo lifted you gently from the couch. “We could watch one of the new movies I sponsored. Rate if they did a good job.” Giggling like an excited child, your head fell against his chest, your breathing growing slow and steady despite the inner panic you felt just seconds ago. Your eyelids felt like they were solid blocks of cement, ready to bow to gravity and fall closed.
“I know, you're very tired, you don’t need to answer me right away. I promise we’ll have a lot of fun together later, and you can tell me if you like movies then. If not...” Diavolo’s words came to a halt while he carried you forward, doors opening for him with seemingly no effort as he simply kept going and going. But it was too hard to comprehend what was going on, only a feeling of fear and disapproval left bubbling inside of you for a few moments more.
“If not, I am sure we’ll find something,” he promised with a wide grin on his face. You felt his lips connect with the top of your head briefly before a second wave of tiredness overcame you, this time too strong to resist. Your eyelids refused to open while your mind was lulled into a dreamless sleep, your limbs hanging loosely from Diavolo’s arms. The last thing you remembered wondering was what he was going to do with you, but luckily, you didn’t finish this thought and rode yourself into more anxiety than the situation already gave you.
If Levi’s envy, Satan’s wrath, and Lucifer’s pride - feelings that were ever so possessive over you - were awful in your opinion, then you should have known better than to rise all of them in the strongest Demon that currently existed. Unless, that was, if you wanted him to catch you like a mouse with a piece of cheese?
If that was the case, you achieved exactly what you wanted.
#Diavolo#diavolo obey me#yandere diavolo#yandere!diavolo#obey me#obey me!#obey me shall we date#yandere obey me#yandere obey me!#yandere!obey me#yandere!obey me!#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere fanfiction#yandere writing#yandere oneshot#yandere drabble#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#Yandere TW#crow-buns
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i think you're really cool
pairings: cale makar x OC / tyson jost x OC
a/n: reader will be addressed as Ellie (the OC) to look cleaner
based on i think you're really cool by guardin
cale makar helped you get together with tyson jost but now he regrets it
Chapter One
For Cale, today started as a regular day of practice. Keyword: started. That’s because Tyson Jost soon made his entrance later that very morning. And where Tyson goes, she goes. Cale held back a breath as he caught the eyes of Jost’s girlfriend. That was her– His little crush for her had developed over a couple of years of knowing her. If he hadn’t made the dumb mistake of introducing Tyson and Ellie, she could’ve been his. Maybe it was his insecurity. Perhaps he believed Tyson would be better suited. In a way, he is. She seems happy with him. Could she be happier?
“Yo, Cale! What’re you doing?” The captain’s voice cut through his thoughts like a hot knife through butter.
Cale’s cheeks flushed a bright red at being caught by Gabriel. “Sorry, coming!” He called and skated away from the sight of Tyson’s girlfriend.
It was just his luck that Tyson was practicing in the same area as him. Cale quietly practiced balancing and catching pucks on the blade of his hockey stick as he waited to take shots on the Darcy Kuemper. Tyson, naturally, had to stand beside him.
“Hey, I never got to thank you for getting me with Ellie,” He said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Cale replied.
“She’s…She’s amazing,” Tyson gushed. Why would Cale want to hear this? “Like, I’ve never met a more beautiful, amazing person. Should I get serious?”
The puck Cale was flipping smacked into the blade at an awkward angle and flew off onto the ice. Get serious?
“Ahh, maybe it’s too soon, eh?” Tyson chuckled, dismissing his friend’s clumsiness. “I’m so blinded by love, I forget I gotta take it slow, y’know?”
“Oh– yeah. Yeah, man,” Cale agreed mindlessly. He bent down to pick up the puck as he snuck a glance over at Ellie. She observed all the other players in the stands, smiling softly to herself. One thing Tyson was right about was her beauty.
“Cale? You okay?” Gabriel had skated into his view and was now in his face.
“Uh, um…Yeah, I’m good,” Cale sputtered. “Just feel a little slow today, but I’m all good.”
“Just checkin’,” The captain frowned with concern visible in his eyes. “Go on now. Your turn to take a shot.”
Right. Hockey came first. It’s how it’s always been with Cale. He took one last look towards Ellie before skating to the enormous space between the goaltender and the blue line. A bunch of pucks lay scattered in front of him. He got ready to wind up for a shot, but it ended up weak and poorly aimed. He let out a sigh and scooped up another puck.
That was a horrifying shot, and he knew why it was. All he has to do is forget Ellie for a minute so he can get his groove back. Like that was simple, he thought. He looked down at the puck he was handling smoothly on the ice. Maybe he didn’t need to stop thinking of Ellie. She could be what he needed to work harder. It may not be direct support, but her being here was support enough.
“Alright…” Cale muttered under his breath. He now looked up towards Darcy in the net. He drew in a breath and began to skate, dragging the puck along with him. Without much thinking, he slammed the puck home. Darcy ended up being caught off guard and let the puck slip past.
“Aww, come on, Darcy! You’re being easy on him,” A teammate shouted from the benches. A few others laughed. Darcy, on the other hand, was beet-red.
“W-Well, so what if I was??” He stuttered. “Kid’s got talent.”
Cale smiled to himself, semi-proud of the praise, but he’ll stay modest. He glanced over towards Ellie’s direction, and he found she was watching. His heart nearly did cartwheels at that point! But the excitement soon died down due to a tap on his shoulder, snapping him out of the daze.
“Gonna move, Cale?”
It was Tyson.
“Oh, yeah…” Cale lightly cleared his throat and moved off to the side, giving Tyson the floor. Instead of watching him, Cale watched Ellie on the sidelines. She looked proud watching Tyson, and he had to admit, it hurt to witness. He was stupid to let her date him. Why wasn’t he more expressive of his feelings? Damn his self-effacement.
Practice dragged on slower than usual, which didn’t ease Cale’s suffering. After practice finished, he had to watch from afar while Ellie and Tyson met up outside the locker room. At least the door closed on them, keeping him from visually torturing himself. Unfortunately, he wasn’t safe from their PDA when he left the locker room. Right down the hall, Tyson and Ellie were holding hands, giggling together.
A tightness developed in Cale’s throat as he watched them turn a corner and slip out of sight. Each and every time he sees them, regret washes over him. He’s taken back to the day he should’ve told Ellie, “Date me! You won’t regret it!” Where was his pride?
Behind him, the locker room door closed and a voice called out to him. It was his linemate, Sam Girard.
“Hey, Cale,” He said, shrugging a jacket on. “You okay? You looked a little off.”
Cale shook his head. “I’d rather not talk about it,” He muttered. “It’s silly.”
“Shoot.”
He paused for a moment. Sam has been there for him more than the other guys. As he should; since they played almost every single game together. They were practically glued to the hip. Yet, for some reason, he didn’t want to spill out all of his secret feelings. Girard wouldn’t understand how much he wanted Tyson’s girlfriend.
“C’mon, it can’t be that bad,” Sam pressed teasingly. “I can tell you something bad about me right now and I bet it isn’t as embarrassing as–”
“I like Tyson’s girlfriend!” Cale admitted, his face flushing.
Sam stared at him for what felt like a lifetime. “Oh, wow.” That’s all he had to say.
“I-I know, it’s stupid, and I know I got him together with her, but every time I see them together, I can’t help but think of the what-ifs.”
“Let me guess: you haven’t told her,” Sam stated. “Just let her know how you feel.”
Cale laughed half-heartedly. “She’d find me weird, man,” He replied.
“Well, what’s better? Torturing yourself by watching them, knowing she has no idea of how you feel, or getting it all off your chest? If she decides you’re a weirdo, then you don’t need to keep messing around with her.”
What Sam had advised stuck in Cale’s head up until he had the guts to ask Ellie out for a cup of coffee. This was it. Judgement Day. In front of him, he had a cup of steaming fresh coffee. The other cup was Ellie’s seasonal favorite: peppermint mocha.
He remembered it from the first time they ever hung out. Ellie was studying for a sports journalism degree and she had the opportunity to internship as the team photographer’s assistant. The Avalanche had won a match against the Wild, and Cale and some teammates were celebrating the win as usual. They had plans to go meet at a local brewery, so shortly after dressing out of their uniforms, they marched on out to the parking lot. A fairly attractive woman was walking out to her car. She appeared invested in something in her hands until it mysteriously dropped out of them. That’s when they met.
“Are you alright?” Cale called out to her. The other guys stayed behind with him.
“Um, yeah…shit,” She cursed. He jogged over to her and picked up the camera she dropped. The whole lens was taken off by some force and it looked to crack off in pieces.
\
“I’m no camera expert, but that doesn’t look too good,” Cale said jokingly. And his joke seemed to cheer her up a bit because she let out a little laugh. He could feel his heart flutter in his chest.
“God, my employer’s gonna be pissed when he finds out about this. I can’t afford a new camera right now…”
Cale looked at her with some sympathy behind his eyes. Buying a fancy new camera might hurt his wallet, but if it meant helping someone he would do it. “Look…I only have the salary of a rookie, but I wouldn’t mind buying you one,” He said.
The woman looked up at him with surprise. “Oh, no. No, no, no, I can’t ask that of you!”
“It’s alright,” Cale smiled reassuringly and placed a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Just promise to get some good shots of the team.”
“Tch, that’s practically my job, or my would-be job,” She chuckled. “Well, thank you…Cale.”
Once the camera was delivered to his doorstep, he had it gift-wrapped and placed in the photographer’s office with a tag addressed to the woman: Ellie. Following that day, they’ve been in steady contact and grew pretty close. Then Ellie expressed interest in Tyson and here they were now. Meeting in a coffee shop. Discussing his feelings towards her.
The door to the shop jingled merrily and there was Ellie. Her beautiful amber eyes surveyed the place for Cale, and then their eyes met. She gave him a friendly smile and walked over.
“Oh, you got the peppermint mocha! Thank you, Cale, ever the sweetheart,” She beamed.
Cale blushed at the compliment. If he was such a sweetheart, why didn’t she choose him? “Of course,” He said quietly. “So how are things?”
“Oh, they’re great,” Ellie replied. “Tyson and I are sorta tip-toeing around the idea of moving in together.”
Wonderful. Cale nodded at her. “That’s cool, but do you think it might be too early? I mean, you two have only been dating for five months.”
She shrugged as she went to remove her scarf. “Well, when you know, you know, right?”
Oh, he definitely knows, but he thinks he might be stuck on a “just friends” basis.
“So what about you? Anything new? Aside from the obvious,” She smirked. He knew what she was getting at: his new franchise record for most points by a rookie defenseman.
“Uhh, well, I…I wanted to talk to you about something,” Cale began nervously. He felt his hands start to white-knuckle his coffee cup. “It’s about us, and our friendship…and your relationship with Tyson.”
Ellie’s happy disposition slightly fell at his choice of a conversation topic. He continued anyway.
“So, I didn’t realize how I felt about you until I saw you and Tyson always hanging out together. Ellie, I’ve always thought you were a cool person, you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met before, and while our friendship is amazing, I…I want something more with you. I’ll admit, it was stupid of me to suggest Tyson to you when I had these feelings. I should’ve just been upfront with it, but I wasn’t sure how you would feel. So I need to know, Ellie. Do you, or did you ever, feel the same way?”
For a moment, Ellie was staring at him with an unreadable expression in her eyes. Then she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Every second she wasted not giving him an answer left him more and more hopeless.
“Ellie–”
“Cale, I’m sorry, but I’m happy with Tyson. I’d hate to say it, but you’re just like all the guys I usually go for and vice versa. Tyson is…Tyson is like a breath of fresh air for me. He’s different. He’s outgoing and unafraid to do something a little dangerous. He’s a fun guy to be around. Believe me when I say this, Cale– You’re amazing, but I can’t go down the same paths I have before.”
Cale could feel his heartache at every word she said to him. Of course she didn’t feel the same way. Every part of him wants to believe that it’s because she’s dating Tyson, but his gut was telling him it was because she never saw him as more than a friend. He swallowed down his pride and nodded at her.
“Thanks for being honest with me, Ellie,” He said and finished his coffee before standing up. “I…I should go. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
Time felt so slow as he left the coffee shop. It felt almost like the movies. In a way, it was like that. It’s a classic drama where one loves another, but they don’t feel the same so they part ways and never speak of those feelings again. This was that parting moment. Or it was supposed to be. Ellie had grabbed his arm, keeping him from leaving the shop. The action attracted some looks from other customers which caused Ellie to quickly remove her hand from his arm.
“Hey, Cale? Please don’t think I don’t wanna be friends anymore. I-I still do. You’re a great friend–”
“Don’t sugarcoat it, Ellie,” Cale sighed. “It’s not worth the effort. I’ll see you around.” With that, he left Ellie standing alone in the coffee shop. He said what he needed to say. He got his feelings acknowledged, but unfortunately, they weren’t reciprocated. Now he just needed to move on with his life. Focus on his career. The right person will come along eventually. They always do, right?
#colorado avalanche#avs#nhl#nhl fanfiction#nhl fanfic#fanfiction#nhl rpf#based on a song#cale makar#tyson jost#watching someone you love fall in love with someone else#x reader#fluff and angst#jealousy#hockey boys#heartache#bittersweet#stuck in the friend zone#short fanfic#hockey fanfiction#cale makar fanfic#tyson jost fanfiction#avs fanfiction#original character
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shut in [8]
Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)
Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, guns, anxiety
Word count: 4.2k
A/N: oh my god oh my god sam stans how are we feeling djkghdfjkhgdf. no thoughts only sam wilson in ep1 of tfatws <333
i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!!
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist
“Hey, I’m just going to step out for today.” You looked up from the doodle you were making on the corner of the paper. “Catch you later? Just find me if you need anything.”
“You okay?” You automatically sat up straighter, blanket creasing under you. Something was amiss in his body language.
“Yeah, just-” He seemed like he was struggling for words. “-Brooklyn.”
You didn’t get what he was making a reference to until it suddenly dawned on you.
It was the codeword he had suggested right at the beginning of your time in the house. If he was in danger you were sure he’d tell you, at least an inkling of information.
But no, this was for some time alone, further confirmed by the distant look in his eyes.
“Oh.” You blinked. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here if you need.”
He gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, turning around and leaving the room.
You were left staring after him, the drawing you were making of the house layout discarded on the bed. You were working on strategies, vantage points- anything that could help in case something went wrong.
Was it because of the dumb ‘moment’ you had shared two days ago? It didn’t seem like it because he hadn’t brought it up at all and God knows you would never. Was it something else that had happened, something you did?
Stop overthinking. He probably just needs a day to himself.
You had spent almost a month in each other’s company and he had never once complained. He had a tendency to be petty about minor inconveniences, like you trying to watch a movie when his favourite segment on the local news channel was going on. He liked the cooking show they hosted.
He had never made it a point to specifically tell you that he needed some time to himself, much less use the word.
“Get yourself together,” you whispered to yourself, shaking off the nagging feeling you had.
If he had an issue, he would have voiced it. He never shied away from doing that before and you knew he wouldn’t start now.
You forced yourself to think about something else, grabbing the copy of American Gods you had already gone over once before but were subjecting to a reread. Opening the page you had last left it at, you were determined to distract yourself.
Nearly twenty minutes later and exactly zero pages since you had started, you realised that no matter how much you forced yourself to get into it, you went over the same line over and over again, not a single word registering in your head.
“Motherfucker,” you groaned, letting the book fall on your face. You took a long look outside the window, mind drifting.
It was a nice day out. Maybe some sun would help.
You lifted your legs off the bed, taking your book with you to the kitchen. You could get a nice sandwich-- the same as the last three fuckin’ weeks but you digressed-- a glass of water, and you could sit outside for a while. A mini picnic.
You opened a new packet of sliced bread, taking two out before stopping. You pondered over whether you should make him a sandwich for when he returned, knowing that he didn’t eat lunch before he left.
You thought about it for a good minute before rolling your eyes, pulling out two additional slices to make him one as well. It was just a sandwich. It wasn’t a big deal.
Tucking your book under your arm, you carried your lunch and a glass of water to the patio around the back.
The wind rustled the leaves and the sun wasn’t harsh. The low buzz of insects was the only sound that kept you company.
The air was crisp and you instantly felt better than you had all day in the room.
Setting your stuff down on the bench, you sat down, inhaling deeply.
The book suddenly didn’t seem so impossible to complete as you tried once more, slipping into the pages easily. Even after you finished your food, you continued to lounge about there, too engrossed and content to move.
You didn’t notice the afternoon go by, evening coming and going just as swiftly. You swatted at the occasional fly but nothing else bothered you.
It felt like summer break. At least what you thought it would feel like. You never had one, being homeschooled about things from various people in the organization. There wasn’t a singular, long break. You were just forced to adapt.
You didn't know how to deal with the suffocating realisation of knowing there were so many things you missed out on. It grew the longer you spent time away. You just shoved it away, forcing yourself to deal with it another day.
He comes back when the sky is slipping into shades of orange, a backpack on his shoulder. There was a patch of sweat around his neck and his head was hung low as he walked.
“Hey,” you hoped it didn't look like you were waiting for him. It could easily be taken as you camping out there, waiting for your husband to return from a hard day in the fields.
Sam looked up at your greeting. You noted that the bruise on his nose was starting to change colour but the swelling had reduced from how bad it used to be.
“Left you a sandwich on the counter if you’re hungry,” you added. He nodded in acknowledgement, making his way up the stairs and into the house without another word.
You let out an exhale, feeling a little better knowing that he was at least back in one piece. No reason to believe otherwise other than the anxiety you had developed over imagining the worst case scenarios.
You picked up your book again, intending to finish off the last bit before you went back inside for the day.
About half an hour later Sam re-emerged from the house, your attention snapping to him as the door opened and shut. He had changed into a new pair of clothes, looking a little cleaner like he was fresh outta the shower. He had a sandwich in his hand that he had already taken a few bites out of. You wondered if it was the one you left for him.
You didn’t expect him to take a seat next to you on the bench. He didn’t look at you or open his mouth to talk so you followed suit. You continued reading, or at least tried to, as he just sat there, finishing his sandwich without any kind of other interaction.
There was a strange tension he wasn’t addressing. He instead leaned back, arms crossed behind his neck to support his neck and closed his eyes. His foot tapped against the wooden floor and rather than getting annoyed, you found solace in the repetition.
“They recruited me on this day,” Sam said to no one in particular. His eyes were still closed and his feet still tapped against the ground. “Parents died when I was a kid, I got shifted around orphanages and homes a lot. Finally Ransone had someone pick me up.”
You closed your book softly, setting it down beside you. That’s what was bothering him.
Secret adoption is what they called it officially in the business, but around the organization it was just known as the recruitment process. Every record of Sam being alive would have been destroyed to maintain anonymity.
To the world he just… disappeared.
It was a day that clearly brought with it so much pain. You were too young to remember when you joined, and no one had kept track either. You supposed it was for the good.
It was supposed to be a happy day, one filled with new beginnings. Maybe that’s what he would have thought when he got picked. It’s what you did.
“I’m sorry,” you said, not having anything else to offer. You relieved your memories everyday in your head. Having a morbid anniversary of sorts would no doubt drain the life out of you; remembering one singular day that would trigger the rest of the decisions you made in your life.
He didn’t say anything in return. You turned your attention to the sky, finding it easier to look at that than the disturbed look on his face.
“Do you regret this?” he asked out of the blue.
“All of it,” you replied, without skipping a beat.
“Every single one, huh?” Sam’s one eye opened to peer at you.
“It wasn’t up to me to take someone’s life away.” You were just a child. You knew nothing other than what you were taught; so then why was it so fucking hard to forgive your past self for straying into this. “Even once I realised that I couldn’t leave.”
You didn’t form any relationships while you worked with Ransone. Whoever you did allow yourself to care for ended up dead or worse, sometimes as a cruel lesson to not make friends in the organization you worked in because all they served as were distractions and liabilities. Others were plain scum; people who you knew were using you but you didn’t care. The loneliness hurt worse.
“What about you?”
“I’d give anything to go back and change things,” he admitted. He didn’t have a say either. It didn’t make things easier.
“You regret all of ‘em too?”
“Mostly,” he said. “One of them I don’t.”
“That one must have deserved it then,” you deduced. It was the only logical explanation you could think of; the worst of the worst.
“Nah. I let him go.”
It took a while to register what he said.
“What?” You twisted your body to look at him.
“First mission I ever did.”
His hands were shaking lightly, barely holding on to the gun. This wasn’t what he was taught. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.
He had already managed to get his way into the house through the back. His partner had taken care of most of it and Sam only had to knock people out. He hadn’t had to kill anyone yet.
But now his partner was injured outside the door. Quick shot to the leg, a punch in the face and he was out cold. Sam was already in the master bedroom by the time it happened. He had no idea about where his partner was, only the crippling fear of being left alone and the nerves from the threat posed to him if this didn’t go right.
He knew he didn’t have enough time. He had only a few minutes to kill him and get out of there before his family returned.
The man itself was sitting at the study table, his back towards Sam. Just pull the trigger and get out of here. It was deadly silent.
“I know you’re here to kill me,” the man said suddenly. Sam nearly jumped but instead tightened the grip on the gun.
“Stay where you are.” He sounded confident.
“I’m not planning on going anywhere.” His chair swiveled around, letting him face Sam. His hair was white with a beard that matched. He was dressed down in his pajamas, a robe covering him. He didn’t look nervous.
“Stop talking.”
“You’re younger than what I expected,” the man observed, not paying heed to what Sam was in. He was a considerable distance away. “You’re not even legal yet, are you? I got kids, I would know.”
Sam didn’t say a word, only lifted his gun up to align with his forehead. “I said, stop talking.”
“I’ve made mistakes. Several, actually,” he mused, “It’s why your boss sent you here. I’ve accepted my fate.”
“Then it should be easy.”
“Oh, it never is,” the man chuckled. “It doesn’t get lighter. You learn to ignore it but it’ll weigh on you for the rest of your life.”
Sam’s jaw clenched. It would get easier. It had to.
“I doubt that’s what you heard, however,” he continued. “Ransone’s a bit… unstable. It’s in his blood, but you- you don’t look like you could live with it.”
Ransone’s history was well known enough that rival gang leaders knew it too, apparently. The man would have been delighted at his infamous reputation.
Just shoot him. Just shoot him and end this.
“What’s your name?” the man asked, taking a sip from the tumbler he had in his hand. “You’re going to be the last person I talk to. It’d be nice to have a name.”
“Sam,” he whispered, inwardly cursing himself.
“Sam. That’s a strong name,” the man said, clicking the roof of his mouth with his tongue. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Sam?”
It wasn’t.
“I don’t have a choice.” He hated how defeated he sounded. It was a weakness.
“They want you to believe that. It takes away your freedom. I would know, I’ve used it.” The man smiled, setting down his glass. “I’ll tell you this though, Sam. You always have a choice.”
“Stop talking, man.” Sam pulled the safety off.
“Once you go down this way, there’s no way you can escape. Someone will always have to die; either him or you.”
“That’s not true.” He could leave at any time. He just needed-
“You’ll see for yourself.” The man leaned back on his chair, resigned. “But for now, go ahead. I’ll make it easy for you.”
He simply closed his eyes and sat back.
You waited for Sam to continue.
“Couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “Son of a bitch got in my head and I knew what he was doing too. Told him to get the fuck out before my partner shot him in the face.”
“Does Ransone know?” You were still reeling from the incident he recounted. You didn't know what else to say.
“Holds it over me every damn day,” he scoffed. “Some fucked up way of saying that I owe him one.”
To be frank, you were surprised Sam was still alive to tell you. Everyone knew that Ransone forgiven the first mistake someone made, but this was huge. If it were anyone else, he would have had someone try out a hundred different ways to push Sam to the brink of death and back; having him begging for the release that death would bring.
“He hasn’t ever cashed in that favour?”
“He did. Had me take out the leader of the Ten Rings after that.”
“So then why did you still continue?”
“I did something extremely dangerous a couple of years ago that he found out about recently. Used that to get me to come for this mission.”
He didn’t elaborate what he meant and you didn’t ask him to. You supposed it was a story for another day. This was heavy enough.
“He wants to get rid of me as much as I want to get away from him, trust me. We’re the weird, toxic relationship those self-help Instagram pages warned you about.” Trust Sam to make a dumb joke during a conversation like this. “Probably the only time someone from the gang let their target go and not died.”
That wasn’t as true as he thought he was but you didn’t want to seem like you were one-upping him. You didn’t want him to think you were making this about you.
“You remember the big break you were talking about?” you tread carefully, gauging his reaction before you continued. “The one that pushed me up the ranks or whatever.”
He gave a small hum of acknowledgement, bringing his hands from behind his head to fold across his chest.
“Similar story, ‘cept Ransone doesn’t know.”
“What?” His eyes shot open. “How?”
“I was so tired of him treating me like a child. Everyone around who joined after me was out there doinghardcore missions and I was stuck with petty shit.” You didn’t know any better. You wished you had. “So he told me if I made it through this one, he’d send me on more.”
This wasn’t your first mission. You had handled hits before, mostly in the shadows, from a distance.
This was different. It was broad daylight, waiting behind a wall near the gated entrance of the house for a car to pull up.
A challenge, Ransone had posed, with strict instructions to do it in broad daylight. If you got out of this undetected, he’d consider sending you on more sophisticated missions.
“Highly stealthy. They’re dangerous,” you were warned. “You won’t know what hit you if you’re caught off your game.”
The low rumble of the car outside the gate alerted you of your target’s arrival. The gates weren’t going to open, the guards were dead.
The car stopped, waiting for the path to open up. When it didn’t the car’s engine slowed to a stop. The man in the driver’s seat got out to open the gate, giving you a clear shot.
You took a deep breath, clenching your eyes shut for a second before taking aim.
The body hit the gravel and you quickly made your way to the car. You could see the woman in the backseat gaping at where the man was standing a few seconds ago. She was struggling against the door, trying to escape.
She finally succeeded, the door opening suddenly as she stumbled over herself trying to get out.
“Stay there,” you commanded. She slowly looked up at you, face white as a sheet.
“Please,” she croaked. “Don’t hurt us.”
“I’m sorry.” You truly were.
Her face changed, dropping the facade immediately. She just looked on in acceptance, not making an effort to move. Manipulative. She almost had you convinced
You held the gun over her, pulling the trigger. A single shot. Her body slumped over.
You stared at her in silence, expressionless. You let out an exhale, tucking the gun back into the waist of your pants, stepping over her body to leave.
A small, staggering breath made you stop in your tracks. It was so slight you barely heard it. You took a step back, trying to trace where it came from.
You ducked your head to peer into the car, your heart stopping. Your hand instinctively reached for your weapon.
“What the-” you muttered, facing a boy who looked only a few years younger than you. He was staring straight ahead, muscles in his jaw tight.
The son wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be abroad, according to the case file. Unless there were two of them you didn’t know about, this boy wasn’t supposed to be here.
“Listen,” you began, but he didn’t look at you. Just stared straight ahead, body trembling. He was scared. He didn’t show it.
“Show no mercy,” Ransone’s voice rang in your head.
“He’s a child,” you murmured to yourself. Your gun felt heavy in your hand.
Show no mercy.
You could only imagine what would be in store for you if you returned to Ransone with some tale of sympathy. This boy was only a few years younger than you. He didn’t have anything to do with this.
Show no mercy.
“Kid,” you called out. He slowly turned his head. “Go on. Get out of here.”
“What?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“Leave. You can’t be seen if someone comes back,” you urged. “I won’t be able to help you.”
“You killed my mom,” he jeered, unmoving.
“I’m sorry. I had to.” Your voice was quiet. Your hand clutched at the hood of the car to keep your balance. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Go.”
When he didn’t shift, you slammed the hood of the car, scaring him enough to pull at the door and stagger out of the car.
You turned your back to him, not waiting to see where he was going. The more deniability you had, the better.
“Did he make it?”
“He did,” you divulged the information you had found out a while ago. It was a messy confrontation to say the least but you got out unscathed.
“And Ransone doesn’t know.”
“There’s no record of this kid. He thinks he was at boarding school.” You shrugged. “Wasn’t going to correct him either.”
“If he did find out-” Sam trailed off.
“I’d be dead,” you concluded. “Being his favourite wouldn’t matter.”
“Why was it such a big deal, this mission?”
“She was a part of a major gang that Ransone was losing to.”
Sam just nodded knowingly, looking ahead again. You knew he’d done missions like this as well. Things like this were common so it didn’t need further elaboration.
“This job sucks,” he let out.
You gave a short laugh. That was an understatement.
“I want out. Can’t keep doin’ this for much longer,” he continued, however, to your surprise. “Don’t wanna keep doin’ this.”
You bit your lip, eyebrows knitted in concern. “You will.”
“How?” You hadn’t seen him like this before, this hint of desperation in his tone that left as quickly as it came. “I’ve tried, everything just comes up short.”
“I’ll help you.” You wanted to, God you did.
“You gonna kill him for me?” He looked at you. “‘Cause that’s really the only way out of this.”
If you were pushed to the limit, if he was on his knees in front of you and there was a gun in your hand pointed at him; would you be able to pull the trigger? Would you be able to kill the only constant you’d had for more than half your life?
“I can’t,” you muttered, dejection making its way into your thoughts.
“I know,” Sam said softly, “I wouldn’t ask you to either.”
You took a moment to observe him. The sun did him good. There was a soft glow to his skin, the colours of the sunset dancing in his dark eyes. Laugh lines were becoming more prominent around them, only adding to its charm.
He was a good man. He deserved better.
“I’ll find a way,” you sounded determined, “I promise.”
You didn’t say that very often. Your word didn’t mean a lot to people in the business, but it seemed to, to him.
“Thank you.” He appeared taken aback but didn’t show it in his words.
You simply sent him a smile, a reassurance. You knew what you had to do, just weren’t sure how.
He was right. There wasn’t a way out of it other than the one he proposed, but it wasn’t an option. You had to find another.
You would. You’d figure it out.
“It’s Cinnamon, by the way,” he said without any context.
You looked at him in question.
“My embarrassing nickname.” This was not where you saw the conversation heading but you were delighted all of a sudden. “My ma used to call me that all the damn time. Mortifying.”
“Cinnamon and Buttercup.” You didn’t bother hiding the grin that spread across your face. “World’s best assassins.”
“If that name ever leaves this conversation, I’ll know who to murder.”
“You couldn’t even if you tried,” you said playfully, nudging his shoulder.
He shrugged, face relaxed. “T’was worth a shot.”
An unintentional pun you snickered at. You didn’t tease him any further, just filed the name away as a memory. Maybe you’d use it later.
“Have you ever let anyone go after that?” You didn’t want to keep coming back to this conversation but you liked having someone to relate to.
“No.” Sam shook his head. “Didn’t want to test my luck.”
“Me too.” One had been enough. You lived in fear for so long, waiting for someone to pull the plug and tell him what you’d done. That fear only grew everyday, finding a place at the deepest corner of your mind to fester.
“It’s what I meant when I said Serpentine had a motive to want me dead,” Sam said, piquing your interest once more.
“Huh?”
“The man I was supposed to kill- he was their old head. He disappeared after that and no one heard from him but it pissed off everyone, right from Ransone to their stupid gang’s janitor,” he explained, your eyes going wide with every word. “So the irony is, if we’re right, I might have led us into this situation. They’re looking for revenge.”
“Holy shit,” you uttered under your breath.
“I just assumed he died of old age if someone didn’t get to him first. He looked like he was one birthday away from the grave anyway.”
“How are you still alive, Sam?” you asked in wonder.
“I’d do it again.” He laughed, a deep one from his stomach.
He was reckless, clearly. Happily and unashamedly so. And if you continued to hang out with him after this was over, he’d probably get you killed in some stunt or two.
But maybe you’d deal with that if the time came.
He leaned back again, this time no creases on his forehead from stress. He looked at peace.
You sat together in silence. You occasionally stole glances at him as the sun set in front of you, a small smile on your face.
You leaned your head on his shoulder tentatively. You could feel him tilt his head to look at you and you prepared to have him ask you to move.
It never came. Instead, he scooted closer to you, letting you rest against him more comfortably. Your heart skipped a beat; barely but surely.
A realisation quickly hit you, suddenly before consuming you. Your stomach sank.
“Fuck.”
Next part
#sam x reader#sam wilson x reader#mcu fic#sam fic#sam wilson fic#sam wilson fluff#sam wilson angst#sam wilson series#falcon#falcon x reader#the falcon x reader#hitman!sam wilson#hitman!au#shut in fic#marvel fic#marvel#mcu#sam wilson#the falcon#sam wilson fanfiction#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#sam wilson imagine#sam imagine
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Poly MC! hc for the: Demon Brothers!
This is my first time writing anything about poly relationships! So I'm a bit nervous! I took the time to do a bit of research about the subject...however I still have a lot to learn; if you find anything that might be offensive please let me know! Just know I didn't do it with any ill intentions and I'll make sure to correct my mistakes!
Also I didn't knew if you refered to a poly MC who is in a relationship with all of the brothers or how each individual brother would react to MC coming out as poly to them and later starting a poly relationship and how they behave in said relationship...so I did the latter bc I found it to be a bit more easy to write and the first option would have been way too long and I was worried it might come off as boring because of it :c (but maybe I'll try to edit it and then upload it...some day...idk)
so...here it is!
Keys: MC = your main character name
Summary: MC comes out as poly to the Demon Brothers and how they behave in a poly relationship!
Additional notes: MC is gender neutral!
TW: small mentions or implications of jealous/possessive behavior (they're very minimal, but still...just in case)
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Lucifer
Lucifer is probably the one you're the most nervous to talk to.
But when you finally find the courage to do so it goes...to put it mildly, a bit... weird.
He stares blankly at you like you just said to him that water is a liquid or something, he's not very...responsive.
His reaction might come off as rude, considering you spend all this time trying to figure out the "best" way to come out and talk about the possibility of starting a poly relationship.
But the reason why he's not talking much is because he's trying to avoid saying anything he might regret later, you see... he's trying to process his own feelings towards the matter.
Lucifer is someone who has lived for a long, looooooong time, so it's more likely than not that he's already experienced being in a poly relationship.
thing is...such relationship was more experimentation rather than something serious.
And now he has you...someone for who he'll be willing to die for...
He won't say it but deep down he feels like his pride has been bruised.
He just doesn't want to "share" you, you're his and his alone!
But when he looks up at you, and see just how nervous you are, waiting patiently for any kind of reaction from him.
He realizes he's thinking of you as an object and not a person and mentally kicks himself in the face for it.
Lucifer reaches for your hand and offers you a small smile.
After a long conversation where you two express your own desires and worries, you two agree and decide to give it a try.
At first... I'm not gonna lie...it would be quite... difficult...
The man is possessive and struggles to see you giving any kind of affection to any of his brothers.
However I think he genuinely wants this to work, he wants to see you happy and knows that just because you also love his brothers doesn't mean you love him any less.
So he'll sit down and talk to you whenever he feels jealous, he knows communication is key and it honestly makes him feel a bit better.
With time Lucifer comes to accept it; He loves you and he loves his brothers and it makes him happy that they all can share such bond with you.
Mammon
I think he's the one who'll have a harder time adapting to a poly relationship.
I'll even go as far to say Lucifer's jealousy pales in comparison to Mammon's and I think this is due to his low self-esteem.
He won't accept it but he's jealous af when he sees you "getting cozy" with any of his brothers.
He'll even interrupt the moment by placing himself in the middle of whoever you were getting close to or think about some lame excuse to take you away.
This makes things more difficult and tense for everyone, so if Mammon continues his shenanigans expect a LOT more arguing from the brothers...(yes...more than normal...)
You'll have to sit him down and talk to him about his insecurities.
The first times he won't be very open with you, I think he might even get a bit angry if you even imply he's jealous and act all offended and walk out of the room.
Surprisingly the one who makes him understand how toxic he's being and how much this affects you is Asmo!
He'll have a serious talk with him, and just the fact of seeing his often bubbly and cheerful young bro being all serious is enough for Mammon to realize that what he's been doing and how he's been acting hurts you and his brothers.
He'll apologize...the Mammon way...
But ultimately he now makes an effort to respect whenever you're close to one of his brothers.
Just like Lucifer. Mammon will come to accept you love him and his brothers all the same.
He'll sometimes even suggest places you all can go together for a date.
Please, be patient with the avatar of greed with time he will come to accept that love exist in more than one way or form.
Leviathan
Surprisingly, unlike his older brothers, your favorite shut-in-otaku has an easier time adapting to a poly relationship.
Easier, however does not mean problems are inexistent...
He has a low self-esteem and sometimes might get the feeling that you're ""picking favorites""
However he won't tell you anything about it, and he'll just try to pretend like nothing is wrong.
Fortunately for you, Levi is quite easy to read so you immediately notice whenever he's feeling sad.
But all you have to do is have a little gaming session with him, and as the two of you "game" the night away he'll eventually open up to you about whatever is bothering him.
All it takes is a little reassurance and saying "I love you" to the avatar of envy from time to time and he'll be all good with you showing affection to the rest of his brothers.
Satan
Uhhhh...this is a tricky one...
You see...Satan is probably the second brother you came out to and perhaps you didn't even realized that you did because it just happened so natural.
The two of you were talking and it just slipped out of your mouth and he was like "hahaha, right?" And continued the conversation as normal.
He genuinely doesn't care, (don't get me wrong I don't mean that in a bad way) but all he knows is that he loves you and he wants you to be happy, and if expanding the love that the two of you have to his brothers makes you happy, then so be it!
However... remember I said this was tricky?
Satan has no issue with you being affectionate with his brothers...all of them except for Lucifer...
When he sees you getting close to Lucifer he won't say anything, he won't make a scene or a passive-agressive remark, he'll just excuse himself and exit the room. (Neither he will confront you about it later when the two of you are alone)He won't say anything at all; he'll just stay silent and pretend like nothing is wrong.
However you'll be able to notice Satan's true feelings whenever Lucifer has a small present or gesture with you.
Oh? Lucifer gifted you a $300,000 coat? Well, Satan will give you another coat but this one is $600,000.
Lucifer treated you to dinner at ristorante six? Well, darling... guess what? Satan will reserve the entire building just for you!
At some point he will notice how bad this makes you feel, since he's turning a relationship into a competition and that's no good...
He'll eventually take a step back and realize how childish he's being, how his behavior hurts your feelings and might have even made you feel guilty or responsible for his beef with his older brother.
Before you even decide to talk to him about it, he already knows what you're trying to say, so he'll be the one to sit you down and apologize for his wrongdoings.
You're someone who he values dearly and all that he wants is for you to be happy, so he'll be willing to make the effort to get along or at least be a little more tolerant of Lucifer.
There might be times where they still fight and stop talking to each other for long periods of time, but the two of them will take the time to let you know that this has nothing to do with you and that there's no reason for you tu feel guilty.
Because if there's something in wich both, the avatar of pride and wrath agree in... Is in how much they love you.
Asmodeus
Asmodeus (definitely) was the first one to know about you being polyamorous.
He probably knew before you even said anything, let's be honest here...
He's probably the one who you're more comfortable talking about it.
The brothers accept you, yes...but Asmo understands you!
He knows that the world can be quite cruel to people who love differently to what our society stablish as "normal".
Whenever he expressed his liking for more than one person he was shamed or labeled as someone promiscuous who'll never be deserving of "true" love.
It happened in the celestial realm, in the human realm, and even sometimes here in the devildom.
Angels where expected to only focus in the lord and nothing else, some humans are close minded and shame whoever is different from them, and demon's often confuse love with obsession and get easily tangled up in possessive behavior, often viewing their partners as objects rather than individuals with their own goals and desires. (his brothers are the perfect example of that)
So he just knows how difficult it might have been for you to find acceptance.
So he gives it to you; acceptance, reassurance, however many times you need to.
He'll be the one to encourage you to talk with his brothers, he'll be there to support you if you ever feel nervous, and he'll be the one to call his brothers out on their bs whenever they start to show any signs of toxic behavior.
He knows in all relationships communication and trust in your partners is key to a successful relationship, so he reminds this to everyone and even goes as far as to make plans where everyone feels included.
Overall the avatar of lust is the voice of reason in this relationship, because he knows better than anyone else that love is something that can't and should never be limited by what others believe or expect "true love" should look like.
Beelzebub
You weren't sure how Beel would react once you told him.
But still you were pleasantly surprised by Beel's reaction!
He was so accepting from the beginning and even thanked you for trusting him enough to share this with him.
He's happy that you want him to form part of this relationship.
He knows his brothers love you as much as he does and that you love them back, so he sees this as the perfect option for everyone.
He even thinks this relationship has brought everyone closer together.
Over all the avatar of gluttony is more than happy to be with you and share your affection with people he holds equally as dearly.
Belphegor
Belphie, much like Lucifer struggles to understand why would you want such a thing?
Is his love not enough for you?
It takes little more time for him to understand you, and learn that love doesn't just limits to one person.
He can be a bit insensitive some times, so he might accidentally say something hurtful to you about it.
And that's when Asmo has to intervene...
He'll have a talk with his younger brother and make him realize that there's more than one form of love and how his words might have hurt you.
He'll apologize...(much like Mammon) in his own way...
After thinking about it for a while, he realizes he's happy whenever you show affection to Beel, and wonders if it would be the same with the rest of his brothers.
Slowly but surely, Belphie it's more open to this new relationship.
There'll be times where he might try to monopolize your love, but he'll stop once you, Beel or Asmo call him out on it.
His favorite thing of this new relationship is whenever you spend time with him and Beel.
Please be patient with the avatar of sloth.
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If you find any grammatical errors let me know! I'm trying to improve my english and that would help me so so much!
I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be as fond of her as much as I am!
Anyway, thank you for reading!
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#lucifer x mc#obey me hc#obey me lucifer#satan x mc#levi x mc#leviathan x mc#demon brothers x mc#satan x reader#lucifer x reader#mammon x reader#mammon x mc#asmodeus x reader#asmodeus x mc#beel x mc#beel x reader#belphegor x reader#belphie x mc
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Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone P.2
So, a little while back I wrote piece titled Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone (linked here) which was inspired by the works of @petrichormeraki and @redorich, who popularized the AU of Tommyinnit from the Dream SMP getting dropped into Hermitcraft somehow and summarily getting adopted by the entire server. I, in my infinite wisdom, decided “yes, but also angst” and spat out a solid 1500+ words with a cliffhanger at the end because it was getting ridiculous and I had yet more to write. This is another 1500+ words of continuation.
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It's not easy, knowing things. Joe knows more things than most, and oh, how it eats at him sometimes. He jokes with Cleo that between the two of them and their dogs, they are perhaps the leading experts on being chewed on, but she never laughs at that joke. He can't help but wonder why, his thoughts drifting as he lies still and silent in her arms, curled up together on his bed in the winery. Her orange hair tickles his nose as he moves to bury his face in her shoulder a bit more, her cool breath ghosting over the sticky tear tracks that still line his cheeks. All the things that remain unsaid lie between them, but their silent agreement binds them together tighter still. And indeed silence is the name of the game, however much he wishes it wasn't necessary- everything will work out in due time, he knows. But oh, how it aches that he can't say anything more on the matter, not even to her.
"Cleo?" The zombie woman makes a soft inquiring noise, politely ignoring how his voice cracks on the syllables. "Are we doing the right thing?" Her grip tightens again, almost crushingly so, and Joe goes limp at the implied rebuke. Be it right or wrong, his silence must be ensured- he knows so much that if he said anything, it'd all come pouring out. A real modern-day Cassandra, verbal fountain and harbinger of doom in one. No, best to stay cryptic when he can and silent when he can't- and if even his silence fails, Cleo is there, sword in hand, ready to keep him quiet.
He should not take comfort from that. But here, wrapped up in his best friend's embrace, utterly at her mercy and all the safer for it... He does anyway.
-----
Joe and Cleo aren't in a romantic relationship, but it would not be amiss to call them platonic life partners in this universe. Joe has been seeing things for as long as he can remember, the exact mechanics are strange and baffling at best, and if he tries to actually do any Science to figure out how this stuff works, the magic changes to spite him. It's led to a lot of unfortunate visions of peanut butter and how the server generally tends to misuse the stuff (Etho sometimes using it instead of slime in a sticky piston is a milder example), so after enough peanut visions to make him allergic on principle, Joe tends to just let the visions come as they may. The only hard-coded bit that comes with them is that anyone living who hears his prophecies won't believe them and will have something bad happen to them as a result. Cleo, being a zombie, is a special exception to the rule. She's only alive in the most technical of senses, so while bad things still happen to her if she hears Joe speak about his experiences, she at least will believe him.
Which is why she is so determined to not know more about whatever is going on with Tommy. When Joe had rushed in a month ago, tears streaming down his cheeks and glasses barely hanging onto his face, she had merely put down the book she had been reading and had opened her arms wide to him. Convincing him that she would not betray his trust or break his heart had been hard, but she had known it was worth it. How can it be anything but, when Joe had looked at her then as if she was the most precious being on the planet and had immediately thrown himself into her arms, bursting out into troubled tears? He offered to tell her the full story, eyes wet and longing, and her long-dead heart ached at the trust he is giving her- but she is far too selfish to give that up. So she had turned him down, smile on her lips.
Even when he whispered, voice hoarse, that they wouldn't be seeing Tommy for a while. Even when he shuddered and shook in her arms, fragile as glass in her grip. Even when he begged her to ask, just ask, please, it's too much... She did not ask. If she asked, he would tell her, and then she would be hurt and his heart would break because it would be his words that had hurt her. She would not, cannot, will never inflict that upon him, or let him inflict that upon anyone else. (Of all the heads in her collection, the one she has most of is Joe's.)
She simply asks him if there will be a satisfying ending, and when he says yes, she asks no more. Everything will be okay, in the end. So long as there is that much, so long as she has Joe in her arms and the comfortable silence stretches out between them, then she will be content.
(At the foot of their bed, deep in Joe's winery where the barking is muffled and the light cannot touch them, there lies a chest of heads. Inside it, nestled among the many faces of the dead, rests an old iron sword bearing the name Hush. It's blade is rusty from disuse, but if Cleo ever decides that she isn't satisfied, well. There are ways of dealing with that.)
(Things will be okay. She'll make sure of it.)
-----
Philza was no stranger to death. A veteran of a hardcore world, where even the very earth was out to kill him, he had seen his fair share of deaths and had dealt out even more. Usually just to the local mobs and wildlife, but there was still the occasional player dropped into his world by the cruel hands of the Void as a sort of "apology" for leaving him alone, bereft of his sons. As if some random strangers could ever fill the Void in his heart.
Most of them had wandered off upon seeing him, more interested in escape than any companionship he could offer them, and he'd inevitably see their death messages in the otherwise silent chat a few days later. Others would approach him, some curious, some desperate for kindness- he gave them none, was often intentionally cruel just to drive them away. He had the Void in his heart and the Void had him, and he ached and ached for what he could not have. Anything less would be a pale imitation, a mockery of the love he was desperate to return to. He tried not to think about how those kind strangers would also come to meet their ends, often more messily than those that had decided to leave him be to begin with.
Then there were the rare few with... less than gentle intentions. (Blood for the Blood gods, no matter the universe.)
Theirs were the deaths he regretted the least, but the blood still gave him nightmares. For all that he loved his sons, he never understood their love for glory, be it found in conquering other nations or the sticky ooze of a dying foe. Maybe that's why he had spent so much of his time with his elder sons when he returned, the Void finally releasing him from his hardcore prison. Just a father's attempt at understanding, even if it left his youngest at loose ends.
But the problem with loose ends, he had come to find, is that the world had a way of setting them to rights- either by tying them back into the grand narrative, or by cutting them out entirely. For months after Dream had come to him, apology on his lips and charred shoe in hand, he had believed that Tommy's fate had been the latter. He had mourned his son as if such was the case, weeping openly at the news for the first time in years. (He wasn't the only one, though- Technoblade was an only child now and he was not taking it well.) It was only when Tubbo came to him with his compass to ask about its ever-spinning needle that he felt a spark of hope, for a compass that spun was not a compass linked to a dead soul- simply a lost one. Such hope was justified when, six months later, Technoblade burst into his house with a snarl on his lips and a smile in his eyes. Tommy had returned.
And as Phil stood, back straightening and wings spread wide, hope bloomed in his chest like hanahaki, choking him with love right down to his core. Tommy had returned, despite everything.
And Philza would not let him go again.
-----
For all that Tommy might have been... gone for at least a month now on the Hermitcraft server and life has significantly slowed down for all involved, by no means has it stopped entirely. The shops are still stocked, the torches are replaced when the old ones burn out, Hermits still go out and see each other, if less often than before. Xisuma, in fact, instates a series of mandatory meetings every week or so as a way of making sure that everyone is still alive- a bit of reassurance that no one else has died in the time interim. Even the hermits who prefer to keep to themselves show up, such as Tinfoilchef, Joe, and Cleo, although the latter two remain distinctly separate from everyone else on the server during the meetings, their refusal to take a side alienating them from the rest. Grian, broken though he may be, also comes, usually in the arms of Iskall or with a vacant smile on his face depending on the state of his mental health on the given day. His presence is also alienating, as most of the hermits don't quite know what to say around him and thus will give him and Iskall a bubble of space to themselves during the meetings. Mumbo is the only one to cross the divide, standing loomingly tall at Iskall's back, as if daring anyone to say something potentially hurtful to either of his friends.
Frankly, the entire concept of weekly meetings is a bit of a mess. Xisuma stands at the front with Keralis at his back, voice and posture more and more tired with every meeting and Keralis standing just a bit closer, a silent show of support (ready if his admin ever needs some physical support too). The prognosis is usually a mix of dull stuff and hopeless stuff- lag is better than it has been in years, the Chestmonster shop is out again, Tommy still has not been... found. It's not exciting exactly, but the tension during the reporting stage is palpable as everyone waits to hear if something else has gone wrong. It's a bit like being on the front lines- horrible, drawn-out minutes of tedium as everyone holds their breath, waiting to see if another bombshell will drop but knowing that they have to be there, because some warning is infinitely better than seeing a death message in chat one day and not knowing if that person will ever make it back.
In addition to this is the tension that comes from the server being split in three- the believers, the mourners, and those too damaged or too caught up in their own narratives or too neutral to swing to one side or the other.
The meetings are where the most near-fights happen, and Xisuma is so, so tired of having to be the sane one these days. (The benefit of a helmet, he's come to find, is that no one can see you cry.)
(He doesn't take it off much anymore.)
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It's after one such meeting that Zedaph finds himself cooped up in his base, eyes burning with unshed tears and feet dangling out into the Void as he sits at the bottom of the hole in his base, the one that goes straight to bedrock and then even further still. The chill is a welcome distraction from his own inner turmoil, and for all that it's dangerous to be sitting so near to the edge of the world, he can't find it in himself to move away form its cold comfort. After all, Tommy can't have died permanently, right? So sitting there is perfectly safe. He has to believe that. He has to.
The meetings are tough on everyone, but sometimes Zedaph wonders if they are a bit worse for him than they are for the rest. It can't be normal that the first thing he does after every meeting is burst into panicked tears as soon as he gets back to his base, as he's certainly never felt such deep fear and relief after the meetings they had before the Incident. And yet, as soon as the iron door of his base sncks shut behind him, he drops down into the Void hole, sits at the edge, and bawls his eyes out. It's kinda funny- he's shed more tears in the last month than he has in his entire life so far. And all for a boy he had known for less than a year.
During this particular day, however, something odd happens. When he sits down for a good cry, it feels like there's the slightest of breezes coming off the Void beneath his feet, chilling him right down to his bones. It's cold, yes, but a welcome relief as he feels a bit like he's burning up from the inside out. Every moment he spends with Tango and Impulse is stifling, as with them he has to shove himself into a hateful mold he never wanted for himself. He doesn't like being angry, and being angry alongside his best friends is hardly any better. If he had it his way, he would have curled up in bed and simply slept the horror away, only waking when the nightmare was over and he could go play mini golf and Among Us with Tango, Impulse, and Tommy again. Instead, his love for his friends demands that he supports them in all their endeavors, even if their goals these days seem to run a little closer to "get them all killed" than is comfortable.
But yes. The breeze. It feels like ice on his skin and sends every nerve in his legs buzzing. It has a distinct smell to it too, like TV static, ozone, and that sensation you get after you brush your teeth and go take a big gulp of cold water. It's... odd. But vaguely comforting. And as the tears finally well up in his eyes and drip down his cheeks, as he lets himself sob for all the friends- both new and old- he's lost, he finds that it's exactly what he needs.
And if Zedaph would only listen a little closer, let himself see beyond his broken heart, perhaps he would hear the whisper on the wind, too.
Everything will be okay. I'll make sure of it.
-----
Evil X has his own troubles to deal with. He had been present when Tommy had died, if watching from the wrong side of their dimension. Lost in the Void with nothing better to do, he had often found himself watching his friend go about his day. With space and time being as screwy as they were in the Void, he could find himself taking three steps and then would be watching Tommy go from sleeping over at BDub's base to having "breakfast" with Rendog. So when Grian and Tommy had gone out End-busting that fateful day, of course he had been watching. And that was all he could do- watch- as he saw his best friend fall to his apparent death, that little line of code that signaled "perma-death" flashing once, twice, and then glowing a deep, ominous red.
But that wasn't the end of it, even as his dull and bruised heart stuttered in his chest at the sight.
Like a redstone pulse lighting up everything around it, that red glow set off a cascading chain reaction that rippled up and down Tommy's code until it eventually trailed out to wherever his code stretched out into the Void. There, it must have severed something because before he could even call for help, his friend's code yanked inwards and away, slingshotting the whole mess into the distant darkness beyond, leaving naught but a vague impression on the inside of his eyelids behind. It was... awful. One of the scariest things he had ever seen, perhaps second only to watching his brother, stern-faced and cold, send him off to the Void once again. But for all that it hurt to see that red glow and watch in mute horror as the server he had once tried to destroy shake itself apart at the seams, there was still hope.
The code was gone, yes, but not unraveled, not destroyed. Merely... transported. Moved. Like a file being sent from one computer to another, or a player teleporting between servers. Tommy's code vanishing like that was cause for alarm, yes, but somewhere out there in the vastness of the Void, it lingered still- and it had left a faint impression of itself in its wake. That meant there was hope.
Evil X- and by proxy, his twin Xisuma- were voidwalkers, beings specifically designed to see, understand, and even modify the world's code. Were he anything else, he surely would have perished by now, his consciousness scattered across the Void as it was. And having been in exile for so long, he had gotten to be adept at seeing the seams between worlds and reading the truths of existence as the Void had intended for her children. If anyone could follow that faint trail, could get Tommy back, it would be him.
For the first time in a long time, Evil X had hope. And hope is a vicious motivator indeed.
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TBC :)
#fanfiction#my writing#minecraft#dream smp#hermitcraft#hermit tommy au#heartstone#i'm pretty pleased with this
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not a request but, Idia seems like the type to make a hentai game based on his darling correct? so he uses that as a base to have experience to woo his darling. but now as he tries it irl, he's confused it worked in the game. so why is the darling crying? is there a glitch somewhere? thoughts?
It all started when he thought that you looked like a character from an anime he watched once. He was a fond of the character so, he couldn’t help but to observe you more than he should, hiding his excitement throughout. There, he found out that you don’t just share a similar appearance but a similar personality as well, the perfect embodiment of that character. Idia almost thought that you were some kind of base for that character, cosplaying even, but you were from another world, weren’t you? Could it be that you’re actually that character and just got reincarnated into his world without knowing that you’re an anime character yourself!?
Reverse Isekai, was it? A twist in that overused genre where the fictional character is the one who gets to be trasported to the normal world. Idia was there on the peak of its popularity, reading all the manga, novels that he can find, watching all the anime adaptations along the way. Then the premise just gets redone over and over again that it slowly became boring. Even if they add twists here and there, it still ended up the same.
But now comes you, a real person that got transported into his world! A person who just happens to look and act like the character from one of his beloved shows! You can’t blame him for being this intrigued by your existence! Because how can he not!? This is an otaku’s dream coming true right here!
And best of all...You have his favorite character archetype! How awesome is that!?
Before he knew it, he was all over you. Well, not really...Since he was too shy to actually talk to you, and all he was just doing is either hide behind that tablet of his and a wall at least five meters away. He had already embraced the joys of being a loner and is practically a master of running away from social gatherings or talking in general, but now that it came to this, it became a double-edged sword.
Ortho said to just build up the courage to talk to you if he so badly wants to and he does. He really, really wants to talk to you, at least once...Or twice...Or thrice- The point is that he really wants to. But as supportive as the little brother of his is, he makes it sound so easy. Of course, someone who doesn’t know jackshit about making friends would never be able to master that skill that easily. He cringes at the thought of doing so without any experience, you’d probably see him as another creepy otaku.
Then, it came to him...A thought that proves that he was actually the genius that everyone claims him to be.
Experience. Of course! He’ll just have to gain experience so he can level up! With that, he can conquer your route doing just that! And what better way to do this than to combine it with something what he’s well-experienced with?
So, he started working. His fingers worked on the holographic keyboard faster than he’d ever been, creating a dating simulator game in less than three days. Ortho himself was surprised to see his usually unmotivated and borderline depressed brother having this intense look in his eyes. Idia barely ate or sleep during all of that, but he doesn’t care, what matters is that he finished it.
He finished the game that can finally help himself out, a dating simulator with only one character to focus on. A character who’s basically a spitting image of you and named after you, he even sneaked in some voice lines that he secretly recorded you saying. Idia had observed you longer to know what to write in the game script, which choices you would make, which words you would say, there was even different sprites and assets of you, depending on your emotions! Though, his hand seems to have slipped and before he knew it, he had already hired some Top-tier doujinshi artists to draw some Not-Safe-For-Work CGs of you for some Not-Safe-For-Work scenes. Yeah...He thought so far ahead that it just kinda turned into...Those kinds of simulation games.
But he regrets nothing.
...Other than the fact that he should probably keep this game away from Ortho as much as possible.
Anyway, it was probably one of the games that he took his sweet time with. Even though it was a game that he himself created, it was like he had developed some form of amnesia and was marvelled at his first time playing such masterpiece. All the twists and events left him in awe, squealing at every single CG when your character goes as little as holding his in-game character’s hand. The more...special scenes had him gulping down his own saliva as a physical reaction, the moans and groans that he recorded from you was when you were stretching in the morning, or when you’re startled or exercising, and yet, it fits so well with each sex scene. His face flushed and his pants felt so tight as he read through the dialogue box, his hand later slipping underneath them just so he could relieve his excitement.
“(Y/N)...Hehe, (Y/N)...♡” He blissfully moans as his hand goes up and down his cock, biting his blue lip in anticipation. Sweat was dripping down his forehead and his flaming hair burned a brighter blue, expressing his excitement. His imagination was going ballistic, imagining your own tightness around him as he slid in and out of your slick insides. The closer the scene reached its climax, the faster his hands became, determine to release at the same time as your character. “Haa...(Y/N)~♡ It feels so good...So good...Haha...”
With a satisfied moan, his own strings of semen shoots against his screen, perfectly coming just in time as your character appears, all flushed and exhausted. Idia let out a sigh, calming down from his high with a few strokes here and there to make sure of a satisfying release.
“Haa...Idia-kun, I love you ♡”
That was his favorite dialogue, no matter how many times he replayed this scene, it never fails to arouse him, making him all warm on the inside. A huge blush covered his cheeks as he smirked, slowly building up into an unhinged chuckle. He brushed his hands down the tainted screen, smudging his cum even more as he imagined it as your face. “Aah...Me too...I love you too, (Y/N)~” He whispered, shivering in excitement. “Aw...I can’t wait to have you for real...Wait for a little while, ‘kay? Hehe...”
This plan was a success and certainly helped him gain the confidence and experience that he needed to finally talk to you properly. Memorizing all the available scenarios and route he can go to, he just felt like he can do just about anything right now. With all these knowledge in mind, you surely won’t be weirded out and things wouldn’t be as awkward as he had already formulated a full conversation on his head. A bad end flag was still left arise, but it was placed so low that Idia can’t just spend another batch of his precious time with it, nothing would go wrong if he just do what he practiced, right? For that reason alone, his birthday was coming up and for the first time in forever, he could use a party as an excuse to talk to you. It doesn’t matter who comes anyway, he’ll have Ortho to accommodate them, Idia’s main focus should only be directed at you.
Plus, if he was going to confess on his birthday, then that’s just a major advantage! Plenty of stuff happens when it’s your own character’s birthday in any game, developers becomes extra generous with the drop rates in gachas, they give you more game currency to spend, and extra scenarios with your favorite characters! Sometimes even free stuff of your choice! This would definitely put his chance rate well above what he expected, it’s you after all!
“Happy birthday, Idia-senpai. I brought this gift for you, I hope you like it.” Ah, there it is, his goddess’ voice echoing through the walls. You said that you were going to conduct a birthday interview with him which got his heart beating like crazy. W-Were you going to start the confession event here!? With all these people!? That’s too daring! Though, that’s really charming of you, and a part of him actually wanted that to happen so he could finally point his fingers to these losers-
But no, unfortunately, he doesn’t have that much confidence to give and so, he ended up having to push you somewhere more secluded. Somewhere more...private. Like his room for example- that’s a good place, right~? Nobody can interrupt this interview that way and...and they can do play all sorts of games right after too...That’s fun, isn’t it!?
The interview was surprisingly fun, although it really just consisted of him ranting to you all about his interests. He ended up spilling all facts about his favorite idol group, games, and movies, his big mouth going off on a tangent once again because of that one question. This wasn’t exactly part of the plan, he was planning to give off a smooth vibe to it but he guessed he was just a tad bit under-level for that. Anyway, you ended gracing him with an adorable giggle so, it doesn’t really affect his motives! He’ll still conquer your route like he did with the game!
A few more questions about his favorite and least favorite food comes, Idia couldn’t help but be impatient. When were you going to activate the scenario, huh? The love confession event, it was the one question that he was waiting for. His heart was ready, his body was ready, his everything was ready...So, why were you standing up with a satisfied look on your face? Aren’t you forgetting something here?
“And that concludes our Birthday Celebration Interview! Idia-senpai, thank you for answering all my-“ Idia’s heart skipped a beat as his hands automatically grabbed your hand and pulled you down, rather aggressively.
“W-Wait! Wait, wait, waitwaitwait-“ Idia stumbled over his words, his face flushed as he stared at you with a crooked but nervous smile. “U-Um...! T-There something else...That I want to tell y-you...”
Oh, no...This was that one scenario in the extreme difficulty mode of the game, where you’re not triggering the confession event at all. You’re probably so conflicted with your emotions that he has to do it himself as the main character. It’s not the original route that he’s going for, but it’s fine, he has the script of this mode in memory too, he should be able to pull it off...That’s weird though, he never remembered activating anything to play in this difficulty...Whatever, real life really is something else, isn’t it?
You were surprised and quite honestly, bothered at his sudden outburst but that’s fine. You were the same in the game too, he just had to take control of the situation. “I-I...” He gathered the words in his head, his face heating up than it ever did before.
“(Y-Y/N)...I like- No...” He stammered as he tries his best to form a nervous smile, his heart was beating so fast but that’s not really something new. “...I love you, (Y/N)...”
Idia heard a slight gasp from you but delusions took over his mind before logic can come bursting through, rendering him practically heart-eyed at the situation. He was distracted, but he still waited for your response even if he was already a hundred percent convinced that his confession was a success. It has to be, he had already seen this exact scenario in the game for a millionth time. “...D-Do you...love me too, (Y/N)...?” He fiddled with the tip of his burning hair, leaning close to you as he knows that it’s a special skill that increases his success rate up to at least twenty percent. “...You l-love me too, don’t you~? Hehe...♡”
Yes. You’re going to say yes. You always had said yes in the game as there was absolutely no reason for you to say otherwise. Everything that happened before this went according to plan, he followed every route, said the correct dialogue choices, so there’s no way that he can fuck this one up. He had definitely conquered your route for real this time!
“Ah...” But he had to wonder though, why were you averting your eyes for? That’s cute, but you don’t have to be shy...Just say that you love him too, he can hardly wait! “Idia-senpai...”
“...I’m sorry.”
Idia blinked, his body freezing on its spot as you bowed in front of him so respectfully. Your mouth began to move to deliver more words of explanation for him to understand, but he just couldn’t hear anything else anymore.
What did you say? You’re...sorry? Haha...For what though? That’s weird, that’s not what you were supposed to say, even if this was set in extra hard mode. He did everything correctly so, no matter what difficulty he’s in, you should be able to accept his confession every time.
...Is it a bug in the system? A glitch that he didn’t see?
You called out to him once again, you called out his name and upon looking up, he could only see your face. So full of concern and pity, but no signs of falling in love whatsover. No...You shouldn’t be looking at him like that, what the hell just happened?
This is all wrong...!
Before Idia could even properly process anything, he had found himself on top of you, both frustration and anger building up inside him. His hand, albeit really shaky, had found itself a dangerous clasp around your neck and your expression suddenly turned white. You’re struggling underneath him, like a deer caught by a hunter, kicking and scratching his arms away. But you were scared, he could tell by that look in your eyes, he could easily squeeze your neck in this position after all.
“I-Idia-senpai...!” He heard you call out but your voice just bounced off his ears, he was too distracted by his own shock. This was not in any of the scenarios that he formulated inside his mind, and he created thousands, for Hades’ sake! His breathing became unstable as he began to hyperventilate, sweating immensely as he tries to wreck his brain for whatever the hell he was supposed to do in this scenario. This wasn’t how the game continues after a confession event! Was he too inexperience or under-level to conquer your route? Did he miss a side quest from you or something? What did he do wrong? Was it the lack of gifts of affection? Normally, you were supposed to say that you love him too, embrace him before the two of you share a kiss and-
...A kiss?
Oh...Oh, that’s right! Maybe this is where the code got rewritten and that the kiss should come first now? Maybe your character was taking a different turn, you were probably shifting to other character types to accommodate your new-found feelings...You’re being a Tsundere, aren’t you~? So cute, but you don’t have to push him away though, he’ll keep coming back to you anyways.
...And so, in hopes of desperation, that’s exactly what he did, he leaned down at you as he smashed his lips onto yours. You widened your eyes with a muffled scream coming out of you, but Idia kept your mouth busy as it is. He was on cloud-nine, enjoying your soft lips against his chapped ones so much so that he just instinctively started grinding his hips against yours. You were starting to panic, but that’s fine, that’s a normal reaction. Both in real life and in-game.
By the time that he finished selfishly sucking up your lips, ultimately creating a little bruise on the side, he pulled away with a string of saliva connecting both your tongues together. Idia giggled to himself, the feeling of your lips and tongue was still lingering on his that he can’t help but be hungry for more. However, looking back at you, he blinked as tears suddenly began to stream down your cheeks. Your chest heaving up and down as small hiccups comes out of your every sob.
It made him panic slightly at first, but then remembered a scenario like this once in the game...Though, it wasn’t a scenario as drastic as this one, that he’ll admit. “A-Ah, you shouldn’t cry...” He tried comforting, letting go of your neck and wiping your tears away with a nervous smile. “Y-You’re not supposed to cry after a c-confession event, it’s not in your file...”
You flinched at his touch. “S-Stop, please...L-Let me go...” You whimpered, lifting your arms up to try and shield yourself away from him. “I-I won’t tell anyone, I-I swear-!”
Idia’s hand twitched, quickly covering your mouth as a nervous rection so that he wouldn’t hear the words that he doesn’t want to hear anymore. He felt scared to touch you now, seeing how defensive you got, his little angel’s crying and it’s all because of him. Your words certainly impacted him, but he shook his head instead, he has to keep himself from looking down.
“...You shouldn’t say that either, that’s not in your script.” He said with a bit of stricter tone onto it, attempting to show you how capable he can really be. He grabbed your wrist and forced your hands open, revealing your terrified expression. “Don’t worry...It’s just a little twist on the story, I’m sure. I just have to restart the system, right...?”
“I-I’ll fix you up soon enough, H-Honey~” You watched him with eyes slowly widening in realization and terror as he started to untie his tie, to remove the birthday outfit that he clearly dislikes. You were frozen, you can’t move, not like you could do much with someone as big as Idia straddling above your stomach but you were left immobile with fear. His use of love words sounds extremely clumsy and Idia himself cringes at the sound of it coming from his own mouth but he’s enthusiastic. That doesn’t make it any less terrifying for you at all.
The game’s not finish yet. It’s just as he expected, there was a little glitch that needs a little fixing. It was the cause of a scenario as unreasonable as this one to appear. But it’s fine. He can fix it all up, he can fix you all up and when he’s done with that, he’ll definitely conquer your route for real this time.
After all, there’s no game that he can’t finish, that would be a shame to his Otaku title! It doesn’t matter if it’s his birthday, he’s going to work all night to fix this very unpleasant glitch in you. What a pain~ Idia wonders what kind of price he’ll get from you after this.
...Not that he’s going to complain anytime soon lol
Idia has the personality of an ugly bastard. Just saying *cough*
#twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere#idia shroud#yandere idia shroud#Birthday Crumbs
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Out Loud
A Martin character study AO3 Link
“G’night mum, love you.”
“Make sure you put the trash out, don’t want it stinking up the house.”
At 12 it occurs to Martin, he can’t recall the last time his mother said “I love you” to him. She must have. He knows she loves him, so why can’t he remember her saying it? Was it before dad left? It can’t have been that long ago. He knows if he brings it up she’ll just tell him off for being silly so he just decides to not say it unless she says it first. She doesn’t say it.
“Look how nice our neighbor’s garden is,” she says instead. “If only we could have such a nice garden.”
“The neighbors hire a man-” Martin tries to explain. He had just done law maintenance over the weekend; he would have to bring up memory issues next time they saw a doctor.
“Aren’t you happy with how I provide for you?” She snaps. “Ever since your lousy father left us I have done my best even with my health and all you can talk about is getting a bloody gardener.”
“Sorry, mum,” he says. It’s better not to argue when she gets like this.
“Forget it. Just get me my tea.”
He goes and brews her a cup of Oolong tea. It’s far too bitter for his tastes but it’s all he buys when he does the shopping. Perhaps that was it, instead of saying she loved him she just provided for him.
Martin tells himself that until she gets too sick to work and begins needling him to get a job at 14. Suddenly he’s providing for her on top of school and everything else but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. She was just sick and the medication she was on made her tired most of the time so it wasn’t like he could expect her to be excited to see him; especially not when he’s the one bringing it to her.
“Is soup the only thing you buy?” She asks one evening when he brings her dinner.
“You didn’t have soup last night,” he reminds her patiently after a long day of school and work.
“Oh, so you think I’m ungrateful? I am your mother! I gave birth to you! You should be happy to take care of me!”
“It would be nice if you acted like a mum for once!” Martin snaps back. He regrets it as soon as he says it and doesn’t wait to hear her response. He leaves the house and sits in the park near his house for a long time and cries. Of course she loves him. It must be so hard on her to be stuck at home all day with no one to talk to and there he went snapping at her. She’s asleep by the time he comes home and neither of them mentions it in the morning.
Martin doesn’t know what he expects when he starts to transition. He hadn’t even called it a transition at first, he just likes how he looks with short hair, baggy clothes, and a sports bra. His mother disagrees. There are days she won’t even look at him and when she does it’s usually even worse.
“You cut your hair again,” she mentions one morning over breakfast. “Just when you were starting to look like a girl.”
“Yup,” Martin replies tight-lipped. He had been thinking it over for a while and he’s slowly coming to terms with the fact that he isn’t a girl. The way she says it hits him sharply. If she was never going to say “I love you” to a daughter, why would she say it to a son? He doesn’t bother coming out to her properly because he can already see the disgust on her face when he gets a proper binder.
When she decides to move into a full-time care facility, it’s almost a relief. He feels foolish for expecting her to say it when she leaves. He feels even more foolish when he says it in goodbye. The receptionist gives him a sympathetic look when she doesn’t say it back but the receptionist probably assumes his mother has memory issues and forgot who he was. She doesn’t. Still, he appreciates the gesture.
Dating is nearly impossible for most of his life. It’s easiest to blame his busy schedule; he doesn’t even have time for friends outside of school. The fact that no one even asks him out isn’t something he wants to think about. After he drops out of school and his mother leaves, dating and friendship don’t get any easier. He can’t let anyone he works with get close enough or they’ll find out his real age and utter lack of qualifications. Online dating is also out of the question for similar reasons. If one of his coworkers saw him with the age 19 in his profile they would either know he wasn’t actually 25 or they would think he was a creep and he didn’t exactly feel comfortable lying about his age to potential dates. Meeting people organically isn’t the worst thing in the world but it’s difficult. He makes a few passing friends at a local trans support group but even then, he can’t get close to anyone without risking someone discovering his falsified CV.
He doesn’t have his first real boyfriend until he’s 23 years old. They meet at a Holloween party thrown by a mutual acquaintance and date for almost five months before Martin ruins it.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dominick, I love you,” Martin says as he serves dinner.
“Oh, uh, it’s a little fast to say that, don’t you think?” Dominick had stammered awkwardly. Was it? It didn’t seem like it to Martin and even if it was, it was true. He loved Dominick.
“I-I don’t think so,” Martin replies nervously. Some distant part of himself starts to berate him for being so needy.
“It kind of is. Let’s just pretend you never said it and we’ll see how we feel in a few more months, ok?”
“You mean we’ll see how you feel,” Martin says a little bitterly.
“Why can’t you just relax and enjoy the holiday?”
Martin had sighed in resignation and picked at the rest of his plate. They broke up a week later because Dominick felt like they were “looking for different things.”
Martin doesn’t have another serious boyfriend after that. He goes on a few more dates over the years but nothing that lasts longer than five months. Nothing that lasts long enough to say “I love you.” In some deep dark part of him, he wonders if he was ever meant for love. His father hadn’t loved him enough to stay, his mother hadn’t said she loved him in over a decade, and he’s not even sure he was in love with Dominick. He gets crushes, sure, but he just throws himself into his work at the Magnus Institute instead.
Working in the library isn’t bad. He gets along with his coworkers well enough but he can never get close to them. Not close enough to love them as friends or be loved in return.
Then he gets transferred to the Archives.
Jonathan Sims is not the first asshole boss Martin has ever had. He doesn’t understand why Mr. Bouchard sent him down to work in the Archive in the first place and his first impression with his new boss is less than stellar when a dog follows him into the building. It doesn’t help that Jon is good-looking and every once in a while Martin catches glimpses of a version of the Archivist without a stick up his ass. Like when he spends Martin’s ice cream birthday talking about emulsifiers. If only he would be clearer about what he actually wants from Martin. No report or follow-up seems to be good enough, even with the help of Tim and Sasha.
Martin works hard for Jon’s approval. He doesn’t know why he wants the recognition but it’s either this or quit and he really, really can’t quit. So he spends three full days looking for every woman named Angela over fifty in Bexley only to be berated for actually talking to one of them and then he offers to look into a case about spiders that clearly upsets Jon only to get trapped in his flat by a zombie worm woman.
When he finally escapes, he takes a few worm corpses with him and he dumps them on Jon’s desk while he’s in the middle of a statement. Let Jon try and disprove that When he gives his own statement he makes special emphasis on reminding Jon how hard he worked to meet his exacting standards. He refuses to be yelled at for this.
Except Jon believes him. More than believes him, in fact. He offers Martin a place to stay. Of course that would be enough to ignite a crush in Martin.
As soon as they get to document storage Martin sits on the cot and begins to cry with exhaustion. He expects Jon to leave but again he surprises him.
“I-it’s alright, Martin,” he says awkwardly as he pats Martin’s shoulder. “You’ll be safe here and I’m certain Elias will respond promptly to my request for extra security.”
“Thanks,” Martin sniffs. He can’t remember the last time he cried in front of another person.
“Would...would you like me to stay until you fall asleep? If- if you think it will help.”
“Oh, er...no...I’ll be fine, thank you. You should be getting home, anyway. It’s Saturday, Jon.”
Martin blacks out as soon as Jon shuts the door to document storage. When he wakes up he finds his crush on Jon stubbornly still in place.
He can’t help himself after that. He starts taking special care of Jon in hopes of encouraging the kind man he saw that night into emerging. At the very least Jon doesn’t yell at him as much and he even thanks Martin for the tea he brings. It’s then that he notices other things about Jon, like how rattled he gets by certain statements and how he’ll often go an entire day without eating or drinking anything unless someone brings him something. That someone being Martin. He also notices how late Jon leaves, if he leaves at all.
It’s on one such night of Jon still being in his office at 11 o’clock that Martin knocks on Jon’s office door.
“Jon?” He calls gently.
“Hzzmt! Martin?” Jon responds, having been startled awake from dozing at his desk. “You should be asleep.”
“And you should be home.”
“I see your point,” Jon sighs. “I’ll finish up here and head home. Unless you need something?”
“Actually….I-I was thinking,” Martin beings. “Since I sort of kicked you off your cot...D’you want to come back to document storage with me? You know, get some sleep?”
“What?”
“Er...forget I-”
“The cot would be rather cramped with both of us,” Jon warns as he gets up from his desk. “If...if you’re sure you want me to join you.”
“Yeah...I thought you had work to do?”
“It can wait until morning, no use keeping you up longer than necessary.”
Martin only half regrets offering to share a bed with his crush. Jon was right, the only way to fit both of them on the cot is for both of them to sleep on their sides (or for Jon to sleep on top of Martin but even the thought has his face burning) and it’s difficult for him to fall asleep with Jon’s back pressed against his. It’s good to hear Jon fall asleep, though, and as time wears on it’s easier for Martin to goad Jon away from work to sleep a few hours.
The more of himself Jon reveals the harder Martin falls for him. Especially after Jon accuses him of being a ghost during the Prentiss attack. Even with the guilt Martin feels every time he looks at Jon mummified in bandages. That was Martin’s fault. If he had just paid more attention then he wouldn’t have lost Jon and Tim in the tunnels. He does everything he can to try and make up for it; despite Jon becoming more and more closed off by the day. Intellectually, Martin knows that Jon has gotten like that with everyone, but something deep down makes Martin feel like it’s his fault Jon’s gotten so cold. It doesn’t help that Jon seems to have gotten friendly with the policewoman investigating the murder of the previous Archivist. Tim even seems to think they’re having an affair which does wonders for Martin’s self-esteem. Jon wouldn’t be the first straight man Martin has ever had a crush on but Martin was pretty sure Jon wasn’t straight. Again, he wonders if he’s done something wrong to push Jon away.
After Jon stumbles out of his office covered in blood claiming to have had an accident with a bread knife Martin finds all the excuse he needs to regularly drag Jon to the canteen to make sure he eats something. The silences during those lunches are hard. They had eaten together before but now Jon wasn’t talking to him. The most Martin could get out of him were a few one-word answers. He tries not to think about how it reminds him of his mum.
“So,” he tries for the millionth time while Jon picks at his sandwich. “Did I tell you what happened while you were at physical therapy the other day?”
Jon doesn’t say anything but he looks up with a gaze that bores into Martin.
“Uh...A little girl came in alone with a statement, she must’ve only been eight years old,” Martin says. Jon looks at him with an expression that almost seems afraid. “Don’t worry, it recorded fine on digital. She walked right down into the Archive, walked up to my desk, and said ‘Excuse me. My name is Beatrice Walker and I’d like to make a statement about a supernatural occurrence.’ She sounded so grown up and she refused to leave until I had recorded her statement. Turns out her dad was using the library for research and she had just wandered off.”
“What was her statement about?” Jon asks to Martin’s surprise.
“Oh, a hamster with mysteriously changing spots.”
“Ah,” Jon replies thoughtfully. “Not much need for follow-up there, I suppose.”
“Not unless you really need me to track down the shop where her parents picked up the new hamster.”
He catches the briefest of smirks from Jon before the conversation dies again.
After that Jon’s coldness and paranoia comes out in the form of a screaming accusation over letters Jon found in the trash. Martin barely manages to make it to the bathroom before he bursts into tears after coming clean about his CV. Tim thankfully doesn’t check on him while he silently curses his taste in men. Jon doesn’t meet his eye for the next week in what he bitterly hopes is guilt. He does seem slightly more willing to talk with Martin at lunch, though.
Then Jon goes missing. After trying to get Martin and Tim to go home early because Jon was feeling under the weather; he disappears. Not before apparently bludgeoning someone with a pipe and isn’t that exactly what he and Tim need to see as soon as they get back from a two-week kidnapping by a spooky door monster?
With Sasha gone, Jon missing, and Melanie King being suddenly hired by Elias, whatever’s left of Martin’s relationship with Tim deteriorates. More so when Martin becomes the only one in the world to believe Jon could be innocent. It’s probably that that makes the police detective “investigating” Jon so actively hostile toward him. Apparently, people say he and Jon are “close” and that probably only means the lunch thing but he wants to imagine it’s something more. Like people are somehow picking up that Jon likes him back.
When Jon comes back to confront Elias it’s all Martin can think to do to fall back on his tea-making. He ducks into Jon’s office with a piping cup of the overly sweet tea he spent months perfecting to Jon’s taste and finds him with his face buried in his one non-bandaged hand.
“Jon?” He calls as gently as he can while he closes the door behind him. “I brought you some tea.”
It’s when Jon looks up that Martin notices the bloody mess down the front of his shirt.
“You’re hurt. Let me go get the first aid-”
“No!” Jon interrupts frantically. “Just...Could you just stay with me for a moment?”
Martin acquiesces and they sit side by side on the sofa in Jon’s office in silence until Jon starts sniffling into his tea. He offers Jon a hug and Jon all but dives into his chest to cry. It’s the saddest most broken thing Martin has ever heard and it’s all he can do not to pull Jon into his lap and curl around him protectively.
“Martin...I-I...I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For everything. For Sasha and Prentiss and...and for the way I treated you. You didn’t….no one deserves that.”
“None of that was your fault and I sort of deserved it. I didn’t actually know what I was doing.”
“You didn’t deserve it,” Jon insists before going back to quietly crying into Martin’s jumper. Martin doesn’t respond. He can’t recall the last time someone’s apologized to him. At least not like that. He’d been told off most of his life for not doing things up to people’s standards. A few people over the years had told him he didn’t deserve it but Jon was the first person to apologize. No wonder Martin was falling in love with him.
Damn it.
Cuddling doesn’t become a regular occurrence for them by any means but Jon begins doing more to seek Martin out after that. They eat lunch together more often and Martin stays up late to talk to Jon while he’s abroad. It drives home how deeply buried into Martin’s heart Jon has become. Especially after he comes back after going missing for a month and has the audacity to joke about being moisturized by a clown mannequin for a month.
He wonders if Jon feels the same way. Sometimes Jon will smile shyly at him, and he can almost believe that Jon would be interested in a relationship if the world wasn’t ending. The last time they speak before the Unknowing they’re in document storage.
“Are you ready?” Jon asks as he shifts nervously.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Martin signs. He heard what happened to Melanie. He knows what’s likely to happen to him. Some small part of him is screaming to just tell Jon his feelings like it’s the climax of an action movie.
“Stay safe,” Jon says.
“Come back,” Martin replies. Jon offers him a hug. It’s no movie kiss but it allows Martin to hold Jon as close as possible. Jon himself is hanging off of Martin’s neck and it feels like a final goodbye.
Then Elias confirms what Martin has always suspected deep down. That his mother never loved him or if there was a time when she did, she stopped when his father left. Even after everything. After he spent years taking care of her. After he had to quit school to care for her. All she ever saw was his father. All his transition did was to remind her further of how much he looked like his father’s son. At least it was worth it. To distract Elias so Melanie could find evidence to arrest him.
Then Peter Lukas shows up and reveals that Elias planned to get arrested. Worse than that, he offers Martin a promotion of sorts.
Then they get the news from Yarmouth. Tim’s body is found in a charred heap, Daisy is missing, and Jon is dead in all but brain activity. At least Basira is physically alive.
Martin spends as much time as he can next to Jon. He’s used to loving someone who can’t love him back. Maybe this is all he’s destined for. Love unrequited. He talks to Jon’s dreaming corpse. Tells him about his day, reads him poetry, even a statement, but nothing draws Jon out of his coma.
Then his mother dies. He barely has the emotional strength to mourn her. Instead, he scatters her ashes and mourns his childhood lost to trying impossibly to earn her love.
After the Flesh attacks, Martin makes a decision. He’ll join Lukas. It’ll probably lead to his death but what did that matter? His mother was gone and didn’t care about him anyway. Tim and Sasha were gone. Jon was basically gone. Basira and Melanie were the only people left that he vaguely cared about and by doing this he could at least protect them.
He visits Jon one last time in the hospital. He’s still covered in wires and his eyes still flit around violently behind his lids as Martin sits down next to him and takes his hand.
“Hey Jon,” he says quietly. “I...This is the last time I’m going to see you...Probably ever. I know, I know old dramatic Martin surely he’s exaggerating. I’m not. The Institute is in danger and...I have a way to keep Melanie and Basira a little safer, so I’m doing it. I just came by one last time to say...Jon, I...I love you. Goodbye.”
He gets up and presses a kiss on a part of Jon’s forehead not covered in wires before leaving. It’s alright that he doesn’t say it back. No one ever says it back to Martin.
When Jon wakes up everything becomes that much harder. Suddenly he had a reason to live and the way Jon pursues him makes him almost believe...No, even completing the thought would be dangerous for all of them. Jon trusts him enough not to be constantly badgering and that makes it worse. When Jon is there the Lonely makes Martin resent his presence and when Jon’s gone Martin resents his absence.
The final, most excruciating pain is when Jon comes after him in the Lonely. He’s excepted his fate in the chilling numbness of the Lonely. Maybe that’s why he says it. The certain, inevitable rejection would be numbed utterly. So he says it.
“I really loved you, you know?”
And Jon looks broken. Even after he rips Peter’s statement from him. Even when he reaches for Martin’s face with hands that seem far too warm and makes him See. Knowing Jon loves him isn’t like “knowing” his mother loves him. Instead of a lie born in Martin’s mind to stamp down the fear of rejection, it’s a reality pouring from Jon’s mind mingled with Jon’s fears of rejection.
Jon’s hands still feel too warm compared to the icy chill of the Lonely as he leads Martin out. Still, he refuses to let go all the way through the tunnels, the Institute, talking to Basira, packing at each other’s flats, and on to the train. The way to Daisy’s safe house feels like a blur and when they finally arrive it’s all Martin can do to remember to take off his binder before collapsing into bed with Jon’s warm arms around him.
He wakes to Jon’s quiet crying. The awful, stifled thing that breaks Martin’s heart.
“Jon,” he whispers.
“Martin? Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I’ll-”
“It’s alright, Jon,” he assures as he swaps their positions so Jon is tucked firmly against him. Jon makes another broken noise and Martin can’t stop himself from crying, too.
“I-I’m here, Martin. You aren’t on your own,” Jon soothes and Martin almost has to laugh. They lay crying and comforting each other until they both fall back asleep.
When they wake up properly they take stock of the safe house’s pantry and make a list of things to pick up in the village after breakfast. Martin gives in to the temptation to buy a new notebook to try and write poetry in. They have enough canned food to survive to the next ice age so they pick up perishable items like milk, bread, butter, and eggs. Jon also picks up fresh peaches and a box of Martin’s preferred tea. It’s easy to pretend like they going on a normal shopping trip as they walk up and down the aisles to check things off their list.
They return to the cabin and settle in. Martin sits on the sofa and tries to write out a poem while Jon tries to read a book from Daisy’s personal collection. After a while, Martin beings to feel Jon’s gaze on him.
“Is there something on my face?” He tries casually as he’s met with an expression he’s never been on the receiving end of.
“I was just thinking about how much I love you,” Jon sighs. Martin can’t stop the noise that comes out of him. All his life trying to earn love and Jon just says it while Martin’s thinking of a synonym for ‘yellow.’
“I-I don’t expect you to reciprocate,” Jon says quickly, his soft expression suddenly turning worried.
“But I do.”
“Oh…Oh!”
“Yeah.”
Jon starts giggling and it’s impossible for Martin not to follow suit until happy tears stream down both of their faces.
#the magnus archives#martin blackwood#jonmartin#jonathan sims#I wrote a fic#this was supposed to be posted on valentines day
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A Day in the Life of Gyro Gearloose
Ao3
i.
Gyro arrives at the lab at six A.M. on the dot, two hours before call time. The lab is empty, for once. He slips through the elevator doors and darts around the lab, putting on coffee (even though he’s already had two cups at home), and arranging his papers.
At last, he settles down at his desk, fully prepared to get a good amount of work done before Fenton and Manny bustle in with their noise and cheer that used to bother Gyro oh so much.
He’s excited to have the lab to himself, for once. Even Lil’ Bulb is still charging, as it’s too early for him too.
Gyro lifts his pencil, ready to write… and lowers it, unable to think of a concrete idea.
He struggles to put words and calculations on paper, and only gets a couple steps in before he inevitably loses focus again.
“This is ridiculous,” Gyro spits at the empty air, startling a sleepy Lil’ Bulb out of his slumber. “I am Doctor Gyro Gearloose. I do not lose focus.”
Missing the rest of your team? Lil’ Bulb flashed at him in Morse code.
It’s a testament to how far Gyro’s come since Fenton’s original hiring that he only crosses his arms indignantly and mutters a quiet “Maybe.”
It’s not physically possible, but Gyro knows Lil’ Bulb is smirking, somehow.
He busies himself by bustling around the lab, taking inventory of mundane machines and ordinary tools. The lab is still uncharacteristically silent, but at least with Gyro’s manually manufactured noise it’s somewhat bearable.
Fenton, bless him and his errant punctuality, arrives a blissful seven minutes early.
“Good morning, Dr. Gearloose!” he chirps, dropping his bag on the floor with a thud that would’ve made the Gyro of a year ago scoff, but today’s Gyro just sighs in relief. “How are you today?”
“Unproductive,” Gyro grumbles. He’s reluctant to admit the supposed cause of his unproductivity, but knowing Fenton it’ll come out sooner or later.
Fenton hums in response. “Sorry about that. Hopefully you’ll escape your funk! In my experience, a refreshing walk always clears my head!”
Gyro snorts. “I’m not going outside, Doctor Intern.”
“I’ll get you out there someday,” Fenton replies, not swayed in the slightest.
“Whatever you say,” Gyro says, waving him off and turning back to his workstation. Fenton’s presence in the lab is noisy, which used to bother Gyro to no avail. Now, it seems, he can’t focus without it.
“Huey’s coming later today,” Fenton calls over as he makes coffee. “He has a promising project he’s presenting.”
Gyro snorts goodnaturedly. “You make it sound like a school assignment.”
Fenton shrugs. “Huey’s words, not mine. Besides, I think that format works well for him. It does for me, too.”
Gyro snorts in lieu of a reply. He actively chooses not to tell Fenton it works for him as well.
As their conversation fades out, Gyro settles down at his desk. With his coworkers’ chatter floating around him, he slides easily into a focused headspace. In fifteen minutes, he’s made more progress than he had in the hour before his coworkers arrived.
While Gyro tinkers with a gadget, he’s vaguely aware of Fenton getting up and crossing to Manny’s desk. Usually he’d pay more attention, but he’s busy cursing ridiculously small screws.
“Dr. Gearloose,” Fenton calls. It only half registers, and Gyro hums in response, waving a hand dismissively.
“Dr. Gearloose,” Fenton says, a little more insistently this time.
Gyro starts. He blinks down at his project, which is nearly completed. “What do you want, Doctor Intern?”
Fenton quirks a brow. “Can you look this over?”
“We’re having trouble with it,” Manny clops via Morse Code. “Could use an extra eye. Or four.”
Gyro rolls his eyes behind his aforementioned glasses. “What are you, six? I’ve never heard that used outside the elementary school playground.” But he acquiesces, crossing the lab and settling his hands on his hips as he eyes the gizmo Manny’s been working with.
“It’s the double-sided shrink ray,” Manny says, pushing it towards Gyro with his hooves.
“We were able to activate the shrinking command upon request, but it’s unstable,” Fenton says, carding a hand through his swoopy hair. “The beta waves are successfully translating into gamma rays, but some of the neutrons are glitching.”
Gyro pushes closer to the table. “Let me see.”
“That’s why we called you over,” Manny clops, but steps back. Fenton chuckles softly, making Gyro roll his eyes.
He picks up the device and squints at it, examining it from all angles. After a little while of tinkering, he drags a nearby chair over. Fenton drops a cup of coffee next to him, but he barely notices it.
The lab falls back into its quiet - but not silent - rhythm while Gyro works. It’s comforting.
During the second dissection attempt, Gyro lets out a small “Aha!” and tweaks a few wires. Triumphantly, he leaps out of his chair and holds the device out to Manny, puffing out his chest. “That should do it!”
Manny twists the device sideways and fires. Simultaneously, an apple and a pile of paperwork shrink into almost-nothingness.
“You did it!” Fenton’s grin splits his face in two. “Thank you, Dr. Gearloose!”
Gyro still finds it difficult to meet Fenton’s gaze when he’s so openly enthusiastic and supportive, even now. He settles for glaring at the coffee maker behind him, pointedly not looking at Manny either, even though he’s laughing. “Of course. It was nothing.”
Fenton’s smile softens, but it’s no less genuine. “Well, we still appreciate it.”
Gyro crosses back to his desk. “Well. It was nice to actually get some work done.”
Fenton frowns, dropping his pencil to focus on Gyro. “What do you mean?”
Gyro drops his gaze, gritting his teeth. “Well… maybe… I’ve unfortunately gotten used to your incessant, needless background noise,” he finishes in a rush, scowling. “It was too quiet this morning.”
Fenton beams back at him. “Aww, Dr. Gearloose! That’s so sweet!”
“It is merely an observation,” Gyro grits out.
“Admit it, “ Manny says. “You love us.”
Gyro only huffs in response.
“Well, it’s nice to work with you too,” Fenton says, still smiling widely. Gyro would say his grin is too wide, but for some reason it doesn’t quite bother him like it used to.
He’s grown fond of it. He’s grown fond of them all.
ii.
There are three constants in life. Change. Death. Gyro Gearloose’s inability to leave the underground lab for long periods of time.
Della texts him just often enough to be a nuisance, but not often enough for him to justify blocking her (it would result with a very angry Della in his lab, a volatile variable he’d rather not contend with, especially when Fenton, Launchpad, and Scrooge fulfill that dangerous category as well. He knows this from experience.). The familiar buzz of Gyro’s phone, once startling from disuse, is now a surprisingly comforting constant of the background noise in the lab. Gyro’s a scientist working under Scrooge McDuck, with Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera and Manny the Headless Manhorse in his lab - he has to be able to tune out the white noise.
You. Me. Coffee. Della texts. She leaves no room for argument, which frustrates Gyro to no end even though he’s the exact same way. He sighs, tucks his phone under a towering pile of papers, and resolves to ignore her until the time she’s set for their gathering has passed.
But Della cannot be swayed that easily. Nothing can stop Della Duck.
At five minutes to their set meeting time, the elevator doors open with a ding. All of the lab’s primary occupants are present, but Gyro is too buried in his work to notice.
He does, however, notice the next noise. It’s impossible to ignore.
“Heeeeyyy, G-Man!!!” Della chortles, all exuberance and energy. She’s next to Gyro’s desk before he can say “Blathering Blatherskite!” (Hey, it was his catchphrase before it was Fenton’s!). She slams her hands on his desk, sending papers flying. Gyro squawks in protest, but Della ignores him.
Della shoves her face in his personal space, grinning like a maniac. Gyro maintains his death glare for a moment longer before slumping into his chair, dropping his head into his arms.
“I’m not going for coffee with you,” Gyro groans. “I have enough on my plate right now,”
“Enough of that,” Della nags, smacking his shoulder lightly. Gyro just groans in response. “You prooomiiised!”
Gyro’s head snaps up. “I did nothing of that sort,” he hisses, low and dangerous. “I didn’t even reply!”
Della smirks triumphantly. “But you did see it,” she says, tugging on Gyro’s perfectly pressed shirt. “So you were ignoring me! Now you have to go.”
“Of course I was ignoring you,” Gyro replies matter-of-factly. “I hate you.”
Della grins at him. “C’mooooon, you looooove me. Now let’s get going!”
Gyro turns pleading eyes back towards his crew. “Tell her! Tell her we have work to do!”
Fenton smiles at him apologetically. “Dr. Gearloose, you worked really hard today and got a lot done. You deserve a break!”
“Yeah,” Manny clops. “Also, I’m kind of tired of hearing your inhuman screeches whenever something goes mildly wrong. No offense.”
At that, Gyro treats his coworkers to one of said inhuman screeches. None of them enjoyed it very much, it seems.
Which is how Fenton, Manny, and Lil’ Bulb (betrayal!) ended up bodily shoving Gyro into the elevator with Della dragging him by the shirt and pressing the buttons for him, Gyro glowering furiously all the way.
“You’ll regret this!” he vowed, shaking his fist. “You will rue the day! The great Dr. Gyro Gearloose will never forget this act of betrayal!”
“Aw, you care!” Della says flatly as she opens the elevator door. “Now c’mon, let’s get some coffee in you that’s not from your lab machine. You look like you need it.”
—
By the time they’ve arrived at Della’s fancy coffee shop across town, ordered, and gotten their drinks, Gyro has calmed down considerably. Nursing two coffees that will be sure to give Gyro a heart attack someday, he settles in across from Della on the patio. Outside the thin fence separating the restaurant from the sidewalk, passerby flit along on their way through the city. Downtown Duckburg is usually far too crowded and populated for Gyro’s taste, but today, separated from the hustle and bustle of the crowd and sated by the infuriatingly good (if ridiculously expensive) coffee, it is… palatable. Almost enjoyable, although there’s no way he’s telling Della that.
Della grins at him like she can read his mind. (Did Mr. McDuck mention anything about a mind-reading artifact last time he stopped by the lab? Or did the Narration 3000 reach her hands? He could’ve sworn he sold it for scrap metal…)
“So.” Della sets down her coffee on the table and leans forward with her head resting on her hands. “Gy-man. Nerd. Mr. Mad Scientist. Bearer of Bad Taste.”
Gyro frowns. “Excuse me? Bad taste? I’ll have you know that black licorice is objectively the finest taste in existence. You have bad taste.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, buddy,” Della says, lazy and lethargic, smirking like she just won a presidential debate.
Gyro huffs and crosses his arms, turning sideways in his seat to face away from Della as much as he can. She cackles.
“You’re a dummy,” Della says, smiling fondly.
“I’m a world-renowned scientific genius,” Gyro replies, rolling his eyes.
Della snorts. “I know. You’re still a dummy.”
“Impossible.” Gyro wants to say more, but Della laughs and laughs. They dance easily between insults and compliments, toeing the line between teasing and hurt. Their arguments continue, sometimes flitting dangerously towards genuine. They both revel in the fact that an average eavesdropper wouldn’t be able to tell if they’re friends or not.
Sometimes Gyro himself can’t tell if they’re friendly or not. But he knows for certain they’re friends, at least.
Before he knows it, his coffee cup is empty.
iii.
After Della returns to the mansion for Dewey’s flight lesson (a phrase that made Gyro want to flee into an underground bunker for a year) Gyro heads back to the lab and vows to actually get something done for the rest of the day.
Unfortunately, in his life, things rarely go the way he wants them to.
Even with Huey in the lab (why did Fenton agree to work with him once a week anyway? Why did Gyro agree?) and Manny, a surprising force of calm, out for lunch, they make it an entire hour without incident. Before things inevitably go wrong.
The first sign of trouble is the explosion that rocks the Money Bin.
It takes all of them by surprise. Gyro and Huey scramble to save their projects while Fenton calls for the Gizmosuit. With the Gizmosuit’s enhanced strength, Gizmoduck shoves aside debris and forces open the elevator doors only to find a supervillain already there.
To their credit, the supervillain, a broad-shouldered orange lizard with medieval-style armor, seems just as surprised as Fenton.
They narrow their eyes at Gizmoduck behind their mask and drop into a fighting stance, their fists raised and their weight centered beneath them. “I don’t know how you predicted that I, the Liliputan Lizard, would raid Scrooge McDuck’s coveted lab. But now that you’re here, we will have a battle for the ages!”
While the villain monologues, Gizmoduck’s head snaps around to stare at Gyro and Huey. He can feel Fenton’s piercing gaze through the impenetrable visor.
“Get to safety!” Fenton hisses through his teeth, flapping a frantic, dismissive hand.
“But-” Huey steps forward, raising something he’s holding, but Gizmoduck just shakes his head and turns back around, readying for the villain’s attack.
The force of their gadget knocks Gizmoduck into one of the side tables. Taking advantage of the chaos, Gyro snags Huey’s arm and hightails it into an all-too-familiar closet.
“Dr. Gearloose!” Huey yelps, stumbling along at his heels. “Wait!”
“Blathering blatherskite,” Gyro scowls, peering frustratedly through the tiny gap in the closet door. “I’ll never get anything done at this rate. They’re going to ruin all my projects!”
“Dr. Gearloose,” Huey snaps, tugging at Gyro’s sleeve insistently.
Gyro spins around. “What, kid.”
Huey clutches whatever he grabbed close to his chest and peers up at Gyro with wide eyes. “We have to go out there and help! I have-”
“No way,” Gyro says, cutting him off. “That would mean too many variables. I’m not about to see another project crushed to bits because you want to get in the way.” He glares out into the fray, fists clenched. “Although I have half a mind to go out there and punch that guy for messing with my work.”
Huey presses up onto his tiptoes to peer around him. “But I can make a difference,” he insists, impassioned. “Look.”
Huey holds up his object, and Gyro reluctantly turns away from the fight to examine it. He pushes his glasses up on his beak to get a better look.
A short, stiff antenna pokes out from a small rectangular box with a big red button in the middle. As far as gadgets go, it doesn’t look very impressive - but looks can be deceiving.
Gyro adjusts his glasses. “Did you make this?”
“Fenton helped,” Huey confirms bashfully. “It discharges electricity, in both large bursts and streamlined blasts. Theoretically, it can reprogram circuits and switches, although I haven’t had any chances to test it out yet.”
“Just my luck,” Gyro grumbles, dragging a hand down his face. So that’s what they’ve been working on. “Well, I’ll tell you a secret, kid. I test all my inventions to the nines, and they all seem to blow up in my face. It’s worth a shot. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, anyway.”
“Not all of them,” Huey says, smiling in a way that’s far too knowing for a twelve-year-old boy. He steps in front of the doors, readying the remote.
Gyro reaches for the unlock button he’d painstakingly installed after one too many times of getting stuck in this closet.
Huey steps around Gyro to peer through the gap. “If we cross behind these tables here and Manny’s desk, we’ll have a clear shot at the elevator. I can use my remote on it.”
He glances up at Gyro, eyes wide. “Is that good?”
Despite himself, Gyro’s beak quirks up. “Yeah. Let’s get these jokers out of my lab.”
Huey’s face lights up. Gyro snaps his head away, unwilling to let the sappy moment go on for any longer, and punches the unlock button with far more force than necessary.
They duck out of the closet (with an undignified sigh of relief from Gyro) and behind the worktables. Almost unconsciously, Gyro scampers just ahead to slip closer to the tables, keeping his body between Huey and the fight. (With the tables between him and the fight, of course.)
Within seconds, they clear the worktables and duck behind Manny’s desk. Huey steps out, angling his remote to the most precise degree. He’s got a clear shot - but he’s also out in the open.
Gyro’s fingertips hover just over the hem of Huey’s sleeve, not quite holding on. But if anything happens, he’ll pull Huey back to safety.
Hopefully.
At that moment, Fenton dives towards them to avoid an oncoming attack. Gyro can tell the moment he sets eyes on the pair - his jaw tenses and his shoulders flick back. In the back of his mind, Gyro wonders if it’s even noticeable to others. The supervillain certainly doesn’t seem to notice.
Does he really know Fenton so well he can read the nuances in his body language?
It feels nice.
The softness blossoming in Gyro’s chest is unfortunately overridden with adrenaline and fear, and he barely registers it. Gyro gives Fenton a tiny nod towards Huey, who waves his remote.
Gyro can see Fenton grapple with the situation internally, before eventually giving up and turning to distract the Liliputan Lizard. He grabs them by their shoulders and spins them, hauling the villain so his back is to Gyro and Huey.
Gyro nods begrudgingly. Smart.
With the window Fenton’s given them, Huey lunges forward and blasts a stream of electricity at the elevator. It dings, and the floor numbers at the top whir and whir. They don’t settle.
The Liliputan Lizard’s head snaps up. “Huh?”
Huey frowns, deep in thought. Gyro doesn’t mirror his cliché thinking pose, but they’re both pondering the same dilemma: What now?
A fresh surge of adrenaline pumps through Gyro’s veins, and, on impulse, he jumps out and does something twelve months ago he wouldn’t even have considered.
“My lab is filled with dangerous, votile inventions,” Gyro snaps, intentionally drawing out his words with more annoyance than he feels. He steps out from behind the desk, away from the elevator. “You just messed up my project! You’ve doomed us all!”
He points an accusing finger at the supervillain and wills it not to shake. “Don’t you see what you’ve done?!”
The Liliputan Lizard shoves Gizmoduck away (no easy feat) and strides towards Gyro, slow and confident. His tail lashes behind him, knocking a vial of bubbling fluid to the floor, but they don’t even flinch. Gyro drops his hands at his side and clenches them into fists.
“Ah, Gyro Gearloose,” the villain says, smirking. “I almost forgot the reason I came here in the first place. Thank you for reminding me.”
“It’s Doctor Gyro Gearloose, actually,” Gyro intones, holding up a finger. “And what is that oh-so-important reason? Surely it cannot be more important than my projects. Which, may I remind you, you’ve ruined!”
The Liliputan Lizard is close enough to touch now. They stop an arm’s length away from Gyro and settle into a wide second position with their weight centered. It’s a position of power.
“The double-sided shrink ray,” the villain drawls. “Hand it over.”
Gyro narrows his eyes. “And why should I do that?”
“Well, I’ll trash your precious lab, for one,” the Liliputan Lizard says, gesturing lazily to the already trashed-lab. Gyro growls. “More than I already have, of course.”
Gyro takes an unwilling step back, his feet moving of their own accord. Something hard brushes against his back. His hands hesitantly fall on the edge of Manny’s desk.
“So what’ll it be, Dr. Gearloose?” The Liliputan Lizard mocks, stepping forward into Gyro’s personal space again. He snarls.
Gyro chances a glance behind him. On Manny’s desk, glinting underneath the overhead lights, lies the famed double-sided shrink ray.
Oh, if only he hadn’t given it to Manny for the finishing touches today. Today, of all days!
Gyro chances a glance back at the scene before him. Fenton’s still on the ground, and Gyro staunchly refuses to acknowledge Huey in case the villain will see him.
Is it worth it?
Gyro’s fingers graze the corners of it.
“Hey!” A bolt of electricity, sparking blue, arcs into the villain’s side. They double over, revealing Huey behind them. “Leave Dr. Gearloose alone!”
Fenton rises to his feet just in time and cracks his knuckles. “All right. Playtime’s over.”
The Liliputan Lizard whirls around, snarling, as Gyro twists and steps sideways. “Like you can stop me! I’m getting this shrink ray, like it or nooooooooooooooooooooot!”
Tinny screeches pierce Gyro’s ears, but it’s the most damage he takes. The once-mighty Liliputan Lizard stands tiny on the lab floor, joined by Manny’s desk lamp.
Slowly, Gyro lowers the shrink ray. “Stay out of my lab,” he snaps, sharp and biting as always, but with a rather uncharacteristically dark undertone. “Stay away from us.”
Gizmoduck scoops the tiny figure up in his gloved hands, muffling any protests. “I’ll get him out of your feathers, Dr. Gearloose!” he says with the awkward, stiffly polite manner they use to protect Fenton’s identity.
Gyro nods once sharply as Gizmoduck leaves. All of his adrenaline leaves him in a rush, and he sinks heavily into the nearest chair (which happens to be Manny’s, but he’s out for lunch and Gyro can’t bring himself to care).
“Dr. Gearloose!” Huey scampers over to him, eyes wide. “Are you okay?” He bustles around to Gyro’s side, not waiting for a reply. “The Junior Woodchuck Guidebook advises to rest after stress.
Gyro takes a deep breath. “Yeah, well, I did have a quiet day planned. Mostly.”
“With your track record, that’s highly inaccurate,” Huey snorts, raising an eyebrow.
“I’ve had enough excitement for one day,” Gyro grumbles. “All my excitement was planned for later, thank you very much. I’ll take a quiet rest of the day.”
iv.
Except things are never quiet in McDuck Industries’ Research and Development.
It’s a surprise when the elevator dings, signifying an arrival, but the figure that emerges is no surprise at all.
The elevator is still in pieces and sparking with remnants of Huey’s electrical blast, but that’s never stopped Scrooge McDuck. In fact, he probably finds the challenge appealing.
“Gyro, my boy!” Scrooge says, spreading his arms open wide. “
“Mr. McDuck,” Gyro acknowledges his boss with a nod. “What do you need? Progress checks?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Scrooge saunters over to Gyro’s desk, glancing around the lab. He smiles to himself, the kind of smile only a secret brings, like a joke just before the punchline.
“I thought you could accompany me out, eh?” Scrooge says, light and lilting. “I’ll let you choose where we go~”
“I sense a conspiracy,” Gyro grumbles, dropping his chin. He levels a fierce glare at Fenton, who hides a triumphant giggle behind his hand.
Scrooge tugs on Gyro’s arm, gentle but forceful. “Come on. It’ll do you good, laddie!”
“I already had one spontaneous outing today,” Gyro grumbles. “With your niece.”
Scrooge only beams brighter. “Ah, good lass!”
With a little more poking and prodding, Gyro begrudgingly allows Scrooge to drag him out the door and into his car. True to his word, Scrooge lets Gyro choose where they go. For a while he drives around aimlessly, with the intent of wasting time until Scrooge gets bored and lets them go back. But before Gyro can see his plan to fruition, he spots somewhere he’d actually like to go.
“Ah, the library. Good choice, lad!” Scrooge praises as they step out of the car. “All the wee lads and lassies prefer that blasted telly to good, old-fashioned books.”
Gyro frowns at Scrooge. “I’m not one of your kids.”
Scrooge just snorts and brushes past him, leaving Gyro to run in his footsteps.
When Gyro catches up to Scrooge, he finds the older duck humming to himself in front of a displayed stack of books about Inducknesia. Planning for a new adventure, probably. Gyro laments the lack of science books in the front and starts to head to the back in his search.
“Excuse me,” a familiar voice pipes up. “This book will likely interest you, Dr. Gearloose.”
Curious. Of course everyone should know the name of Dr. Gyro Gearloose, acclaimed inventor and mad scientist, but unfortunately that just isn’t the case. Yet.
So just who is this mysterious stranger?
Gyro whirls around to find a familiar-looking child, holding a thick leather-bound book patiently out to him. He squints at her.
“Violet Sabrewing,” she supplies helpfully after a minute of dead silence.
“Ah.” Gyro nods awkwardly at her. Isn’t she one of Pink Niece’s friends?
Scrooge wanders over, likely to check that Gyro hasn’t somehow set the building on fire in the five minutes he’s been gone. His gaze lights up at the sight of Violet. God, all the Duck-McDucks are weak for children. “Ah, Violet! What brings you to the library today?”
“Hello, Mr. McDuck,” Violet says politely. “I’m looking for references on micronanite portal technology.”
“Ah, micronanite portal technology!” Scrooge says blusteringly, grinning wide to hide his confusion. Gyro snorts.
Violet’s smile flattens. “You have no idea what that means, do you?”
“I’m afraid not,” Scrooge confesses abashedly.
“It uses miniscule robotic parts to create wormholes in time and space,” Gyro jumps in flatly, earning him a nod of approval from Violet. Gyro tries not to sneer, since Mr. McDuck would likely chastise him for it. He doesn’t need approval from a child.
Even if it is a very, very smart child. Who’s working with micronanites, which Gyro didn’t get to study until he was working under Dr. Akita. Who’s also friends with the Niblings.
Scrooge chuckles softly. “Thank you, Gyro.”
Gyro nods sharply.
Scrooge turns his attention back to Violet. “That sounds… interesting! I look forward to seeing your adventure with this technology,” he says kindly. “
As they converse, Gyro wanders away to peruse the library. Every so often, he passes by Scrooge and Violet, deep in conversation.
Eventually, Violet leaves, and Scrooge finds Gyro flipping through a book of scientific theoreticals. “I’d say it’s about time we left, eh, laddie?”
“Finally,” Gyro mutters, but he makes them stop to check the book out. Scrooge smirks knowingly at him.
On the drive back, Scrooge prattles on about his latest adventure. The constant socialization is zapping Gyro’s energy exponentially by the minute, but Scrooge seems content to fill the silence himself.
It’s only when they’re walking into the Money Bin does Gyro finally initiate conversation.
“You have a weakness for children,” Gyro tells Scrooge flatly as he walks into the elevator. “You should spend more time humoring them instead of me.”
Scrooge smirks at him. “Really,” he says teasingly. Gyro feels like he’s somehow fighting a losing battle, although he has no recollection of entering any kind of argument. “Aren’t I, though?”
“I’m not a child,” Gyro tells him again.
“Neither are Donald and Della,” Scrooge responds immediately.
Oh. Oh.
Quick as a flash, Gyro spins away from Scrooge, pressing a fist to his beak. Behind him, Scrooge laughs heartily.
After he’s composed himself, Gyro steps away from the episode. Scrooge pats him on the back, harder than he usually does. Gyro stands there frozen for a moment, hesitant, before giving into his instincts and pulling Scrooge into a tight, impulsive hug.
Scrooge lets out a grunt and coughs dramatically, but he hugs Gyro back just as tightly.
Just then, the elevator doors open with a ding and out steps Gyro’s favorite person in the whole world.
“Hi, Dr. Gearloose!” Boyd chirps. “I went down to the lab to see Huey, but he just went home, and Dr. Fenton said you’d be up here!”
Gyro smiles fondly and turns away from Scrooge. “I was just about to head down there, but now I guess I don’t need to.”
Boyd takes Gyro’s hand as they leave. Gyro smiles down at it, soft and loving. Lil’ Bulb hops from Boyd’s shoulder to Gyro’s, and he keeps carefully still as Lil’ Bulb clambers across his head to perch on his favorite shoulder.
As they pass, Gyro turns to say goodbye to Scrooge, who looks like the cat that caught the canary. Gyro raises a questioning eyebrow.
Scrooge’s triumphant smirk turns into an all-out, unabashed grin. “Where do you think you got it from, lad?”
Gyro looks at Boyd blissfully clinging to his hand and Lil’ Bulb contentedly perched on his shoulder, and chokes.
v.
Within minutes, Boyd and Lil’ Bulb are safely packed away into Gyro’s rickety car and on the road. Gyro slides in one of his cassette tapes Boyd likes, one of the eighties soft rock tracks his dad gave him. Lil’ Bulb perches on the dashboard, fiddling with the volume dials. They coast through the streets of Duckberg with Boyd’s bright chatter and electric guitar notes floating through the car.
Gyro relaxes at the wheel, slumping back in his chair and exhaling gently. He’s often the personification of road rage. It feels odd to not white-knuckle the steering wheel today. But when Boyd came back into his life, and subsequently into his car, he has made a conscious effort to not let frustration get the better of him. At least, not when he’s driving a two thousand pound death machine with a child inside (robotic child or no).
But to Gyro’s delighted surprise, he’s found that Boyd’s mere presence calms him more than any of Donald’s breathing exercises or Dickie’s yoga classes. When he’s with Boyd, he loses tension he didn’t even realize he had.
After a quick drive, Gyro pulls into an offshoot of the Duckburg Mall. Boyd’s out of the car before Gyro’s fully parked, making the chicken roll his eyes and grumble under his breath. When he’s ready, he steps out of the car with the full intention to admonish Boyd. But one look at his excited face and the way he bounces eagerly on his toes, and all feelings of frustration vanish.
On Gyro’s shoulder, Lil Bulb cackles via Morse code. Gyro pointedly does not look at his other son as he takes Boyd’s hand and lets him lead them to their destination.
“Huey and I come here all the time,” Boyd babbles as they cross the parking lot. “We always get the Sugar-Free Butter Pecan, because Huey doesn’t do well with sugar.”
Gyro ruffles where Boyd’s head feathers would be. It’s metal, but warm to the touch, just like Boyd. “You can have sugar, though.”
“Yeah,” Boyd replies, unperturbed. “But I like the routine.”
Gyro nods in understanding. They reach the ice cream shop and peer up at the menu. “Do you want to get that today?”
“Hmm.” Boyd puts a finger to his chin, contemplating. After a moment, he brightens like a lightbulb - somehow more than the actual lightbulb on Gyro’s shoulder. “I think I’ll try something new today! I’m not with Huey, after all.”
Gyro hums in agreement and examines the menu himself. They order and choose a small table outside the restaurant, overlooking the parking lot.
“Did you have a good day?” Boyd asks, digging in with his spoon.
Gyro thinks about how his day started crappy and unproductive, but immediately flipped when Fenton and Manny came into the lab. He thinks about how Della’s impromptu visit, for all of his frustration at the break in routine, provided a much needed excuse to see his friend. He thinks about his terror and fury when a supervillain entered the lab, and the rush of adrenalinic joy helping Gizmoduck gave him. He thinks about his quiet afternoon out with Mr. McDuck, and how he’d missed researching in libraries as well as hands-on in labs. He thinks about how the people he cares about shaped his day.
He turns his gaze towards Boyd and Lil’ Bulb, who fit perfectly into that category.
“Yeah,” he says, smiling softly. “I did.”
Behind Boyd, the sun is setting, with pinks and purples blossoming across the tangerine sky and seemingly setting the clouds ablaze. The grapefruit-orange light of the setting sun makes Boyd and Lil’ Bulb shine. Gyro’s heart clenches and aches, but it’s with love.
Boyd beams back at him. “I’m glad.”
“You’re my favorite person,” Boyd says, tilting his head back to gaze unflinchingly into Gyro’s eyes. Although the self-deprecating side of Gyro vehemently denies the sentiment, but somehow his words ring with a truth Gyro can’t deny. He may not believe in himself, but Boyd does wholeheartedly.
Gyro splutters and coughs, still unused to open affection after all this time. After a minute of struggling to cope, he settles on setting his ice cream down so he won’t squeeze the cone so hard it cracks. (It’s happened before, but it was fueled by anger, as many things are in Gyro’s life.)
Boyd reaches up to take Gyro’s free hand. “You don’t have to say anything. I know this is hard for you. But I want you to know how I feel.”
Gyro bites the inside of his beak and rubs his thumb over Boyd’s hand. “I… I wish it wasn’t,” he whispers, surprising even himself with the rare display of vulnerability.
Boyd scoots his chair over next to Gyro’s and leans against him. Gyro exhales, feeling a knot of tension leave his chest, and leans back.
Lil’ Bulb, already perched on Gyro’s shoulder, scampers over his head to settle on Boyd’s shoulder. He rests his head against Gyro’s shoulder, settling directly between them.
Gyro squeezes Boyd’s hand tighter. Boyd squeezes back.
“You are loved,” Boyd says.
Gyro smiles. “I know.”
“Thank you.”
~
this is my piece for the Gyro Gearloose zine run by @georgiarose and glo.draws! I had a wonderful time working on this zine, and there are so many amazing pieces in it! It’s free to download, and we’re asking for donations to the Crisis Text Line in lieu of payment. I highly recommend checking out the entire zine!
For this piece, I wanted to explore the variety of relationships Gyro has with the people around him. he’s such a fun character and i love writing for him so much!
both the micronanites and huey's gadget are references to existing tech in disney animation (which i probably spent too much time researching to represent accurately akfghak). cookies if you can guess them!
thank you to @mrpinniped for the beta and to the entire Gyro Zine server for the lovely encouragement and feedback!
#ducktales#ducktales 2017#dt17#gyro gearloose#fenton crackshell-cabrera#della duck#huey duck#scrooge mcduck#gyro gearloose zine#manny the headless man-horse#lil bulb#violet sabrewing#wavey writes#ducktales fanfiction
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