#i kind of went off rails somewhere along the lines
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Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous (Gender Neutral Reader Insert)
Chapter 2: Bedtime Mishaps
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You stand atop a frighteningly tall tower, along with the other campers. And if you weren’t so entranced by the dinosaurs right in front of you, you would’ve gone into full Ben-mode and puked from how high up you were.
Instead, you let out excited “ooh’s” and “ahh’s”, only becoming more enchanted when the dinosaurs continued to bellow.
“Dinosaurs!” Darius whisper-yelled, leaning over the wooden railing.
He continued, “There’s Brachiosaurus, Parasaurolophus, Stegosaurus, Ankylosaurus!” Pausing between each name, not truly able to believe what he was seeing.
“Wow, you really know your stuff, dino-nerd.” Brooklynn complimented.
Kenji, panicked for attention, and made a guess. “Check out the… Brontosaurus!”
“They don’t have those here. Common mistake.” Darius said with a smile.
Then he gasped, pointing somewhere in the dinosaur-packed herd, although no one would know which one he was referring to because of their distance. “Are those Sinocceratops? When did you get those!?”
“They are cooking up all kinds of dinos in that lab.” Dave said as Darius turned to him.
“Whoa!” Sammy squealed. “Where are they herding ‘em to?”
Her country accent was especially apparent now that you were standing next to her. You hadn’t noticed earlier because your nerves were fried. Now that you had the time to pay attention, you could really see how different everyone here was.
Tuning back in, you realized Roxie was answering her. “They’re herding them back to their nighttime enclosures.”
Suddenly, Dave walked towards an opening in the railing. “Enough banter!”
It was only then that you noticed what he grabbed ahold of.
“It’s zip-line party time!”
Dave immediately buckled Ben in. A bad choice for being the first person to go, but Ben had already brought up that point multiple times.
“Me?” He sputtered, gripping the pole connecting the trolly to the actual zipline as if his very soul would splatter onto the ground below if he didn’t.
“Maybe Yasmina should go first, or… y/n? Darius?” His eyebrows raised with each name listed, an attempt to egg on Dave to switch him with someone else.
You almost had the heart to be offended that he’d offer you up, but to be completely honest, you’d do the same thing if your roles were switched.
“Or anyone!” He yelled, “I really don’t-”
Dave pushes him off the edge. Ben’s last words being screams of terror and jumbled sentences that weirdly resembled that of a birthing mother.
After that whole situation, everyone else had gone. Including you, although reluctantly.
Despite your initial fear, it was honestly fun. More akin to that of a swing than the death ride you believed it to be earlier.
You could feel yourself laughing, although it went unheard because of everyone else yelling and cheering in delight.
Now below you, the dinosaur’s bellows were evermore apparent.
You only took your eyes off the dinosaurs on the ground when the screaming from Ben picked up again.
Then, you saw one of the Brachiosaurus lifting its head towards you all, and if you weren’t afraid of your arm being torn off because of your speed, you would have reached it out in an attempt to touch the animal.
And with that, zip lining was over.
Later, when everyone was sleeping,
you lay awake. Sure, you were tired, but you always had a hard time falling asleep anywhere else but your room. Unless that somewhere else was a car, but that’s a different story.
Although you were sure you were the only one still awake because of all the snoring, the creaking on your top bunk said otherwise.
Darius had asked to bunk with you, saying you were both “dino-buddies”. However, you’re sure it’s mostly because you were the only one he’s really spoken to.
You were originally going to just let him be. After all, you could understand how excited he must be. Though when you saw him climbing down the latter to your shared bunk, you had to ask.
“What are you doing, Darius?”
He froze, arms in a sneaking position as he slowly craned his head towards you.
“Uh… bathroom?”
The two of you stared at one another, him hoping you’d believe him, and you because he was so obviously lying.
“Oh.” You turned to lie the other way. It really wasn’t any of your business what he did. And if he ended up becoming a chew toy for a dinosaur or getting kicked off the island for breaking the rules, you really couldn’t care.
It wasn’t any of your business what he did, plus he probably wouldn’t want you to get all nosy. So you’d lie in your bottom bunk, and mind your business like you should.
“Y/n?”
God dammit.
You turn over, and Darius is standing over you, a hand stretched out.
“Uh, could you come with me?”
“To the bathroom?” Your face scrunched up in both confusion and a bit of disgust.
“No!” He almost yelled, but when the snoring in the room paused, he did as well.
When it resumed, he spoke again in a hushed voice. “I lied, about the bathroom, I mean.”
He leaned forward, cupping a hand to your ear as he spoke.
“I want to see some dinosaurs.” He whispered, and your brows furrowed.
Pushing him back, you got off the bed and walked out of the shared bedroom. Only then did you ask what he meant.
“You saw some today didn’t you?”
Now that you were in the ‘dining room’ which is what you assumed it to be. You didn’t know the specific house room terms, you spoke a bit louder.
“Well, yeah but-”
You both gasped as the lights suddenly came on.
“Oh, hey there, dino-nerd.” Kenji stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. His eyes met yours and his face wrinkled.
“And… you?” To be completely honest, you were glad he didn’t seem to think much of you.
He continued, “Whatcha doing?”
“Huh? Uh, nothing!” Darius unhelpfully added. You hit his shoulder with your own. Even someone like Kenji could see through a lie like that.
Darius winced. “We were just, uh, heading out ‘cause…” He stared down at his hands, which were pointing in opposite directions.
“Thirsty.”
Kenji smirked and pointed to some water dispensers on the other side of the room.
“Oh, yeah.” Darius nervously giggled. “I… I meant, um… hungry.”
He slowly walked towards Kenji, along with you. Because honestly you didn’t know what was going on.
Kenji patted one of the many cabinets, which you assumed was full of snacks. Man, he really paid attention when Dave was telling everyone where the consumables were.
“Oh, heh, look at that. Thanks, Kenji!”
As Darius grabbed the cabinet handle, Kenji grabbed ahold of his hand and forced it to slam shut.
“Look, bros.” He then grabbed your arm too, pulling the both of you into this weird, half-hug-not-hug.
“I don’t want you to be intimidated by me just because I’m rich, my father owns a few condos on the island, and I’m rich.”
“Uh, I’m not intimidated by you.” Darius said, weirded out by Kenji’s words.
“I don’t think anyone is.” You muttered.
“Oh, good.” Kenji leaned down a bit, brushing some nonexistent dust off of Darius’s jacket. “I just want us to be friends, and friends tell each other stuff.”
You three were most definitely not what you’d call friends.
“For instance, what they’re doing out of bed after curfew.”
Kenji’s head swiveled in your direction. “What do you think?”
“Uh…”
“I think you best get your arms off us, friend.” Darius said, saving you from having to talk to Kenji. Great, now you owe him.
“Oh! Why don’t you make me, friend?”
Right as it was getting too awkward to bear, the flash and click of a camera shutter alerted the three of you to a new presence.
“Huh,” Brooklynn murmured, “So that’s what toxic masculinity looks like.” She said as she scrolled through her phone.
Darius immediately stepped up to apologize, while Kenji simply crossed his arms with a smug smile. “Uh, sorry, we woke you. I-”
“THEY were sneaking out, but I set them straight.” Darius’s eyes widened as he shook his head.
“Look, I try to look out for the younger kids. It’s who I am.” Kenji bragged.
“We’re the same age.” You said, in absolute disbelief at how big this guy’s ego was.
He looked back at you for less than a second before looking away. “Oh, right.”
“You guys don’t understand.” Darius spoke up. “I’ve been waiting my whole life to get here, and I’m gonna make the most of it.”
His whole life? Were there really people that liked dinosaurs so badly they’d wait their entire life to see one?
Darius turned to a window. “Those lights must be coming from the Compy enclosure. I gotta check it out!”
Brooklynn intercepted, “Sneaking out to see dinosaurs in the dead of night,” she listed, Darius turning to her with his brows raised.
“Mad danger of getting caught, great mood lighting…” She sighed with intrigue.
She can’t be serious.
“I guess that means…”
There’s no way.
“We’re going rogue!”
She’s serious.
“Um, not to be a downer or anything, but I think I’ll pass.” They turned to you.
Darius sputtered. “What? But we’re dino-buddies! Don’t you want to see some up close?”
“Yeah but, not this bad.” You walked back to the shared bedroom.
“Do whatever. Just keep me out of it.” You didn’t want to appear cold, but you would not get kicked out of Camp Cretaceous because of some kids you barely knew.
You heard a muffled, “loser!” which was definitely from Kenji, but all you could focus on was getting back to bed.
You picked up your covers, prepared to dive under before a weird sensation came over you, like that feeling when your stomach drops because you forgot something.
You turned and counted the empty beds. One, two, three, that’s right. But as you looked to where Ben’s was, you noticed he was gone.
He probably went to the bathroom. It wasn’t any of your business.
You pulled the covers back up and fell into the bed. Sitting there, you couldn’t help but wonder where he was.
You should probably be more concerned about Darius and Brooklynn, not including Kenji, because he was a jerk. After all, they could be completely dissolved in some dinosaur’s stomach before the sun rises!
Yet you couldn’t stop thinking about where Ben could be. He was clumsy.
….
He was really clumsy. You remembered how many times he had slipped trying to get up after stumbling out of the trunk.
….
Oh God, what if he fell off the tree house?
You got up in a hurry, because he was probably enough of an idiot to do it. You speed walked past the beds, and the balcony–before backtracking and looking back at the balcony.
There Ben stood, FannyPack and all. What was he doing outside this late? Wasn’t he all about the rules?
Well, now, you were curious.
You slowly walked up to the balcony window, peering through it with squinted eyes.
….
He was just standing there menacingly! What was he doing?!
At this point, you became frustrated, and knocked on the glass.
You almost laughed when he jumped. Maybe he really would fall off the treehouse if you kept that up.
He was quiet as you walked onto the actual balcony area. And even once you stood next to him, looking down at the ground below, he stayed silent.
“Aren’t you a rules guy? Why are you outside of bed after curfew?” You said, resting your forearms on the railing.
Ben’s fingers anxiously tapped against said railing, and he cleared his throat awkwardly before saying anything.
“Uh, you won’t laugh, right?”
Your brows furrowed as you stared at him through your peripheral.
“Right, I didn’t think you would. I just wanted clarification.”
You nodded. His off-putting behavior was really getting to you now.
“I’m just… homesick, I guess.” He whispered, scared of being too loud although you were both alone on the balcony.
“Oh.”
Well, that was much more normal than you expected. It was also nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re pretty sure everyone would be homesick if they weren’t so focused on the exciting experience.
Your eyes widened as you stared at Ben’s face, the way his lips pursed and his eyes searched for a predator that didn’t exist. This wasn’t an exciting experience for him. That was the problem. The only aspect of this trip he seemed to openly enjoy so far were the rules, and he was already breaking them.
“So, why did you come here?” You realized you sounded rude a bit too late, as Ben immediately replied.
“I didn’t want to.” He sighed, not one of relief or exasperation, more so of anger. An emotion you didn’t expect from the boy. “My mom made me go. She works for Mr. Masrani.”
He continued, brows furrowing with every sentence. “She said it would help me face my fears but…” He paused, mouth closing as if he came to a conclusion in his mind.
“I won’t say I get it–because I don’t. But, I understand.” You said, avoiding Ben’s stare. “This whole thing must be more of a chore to you than an exciting adventure, huh?”
He huffed, a smile resting on his face. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Okay, so what you just said wasn’t total bullshit to him. Good. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a bit, at least until Ben randomly stood up straight and walked into your personal bubble.
“Uh.” You muttered, copying his stance, and almost chuckling at the constipated look on his face.
However, you went quiet when he stiffly wrapped his arms around your taller frame.
….
Okay, now this was uncomfortable. Ben seemed to agree as he let you go not long after initiating the hug.
“Uh, sorry.” He apologized, avoiding your gaze.
“No, it’s fine, man.” You pat his back, attempting to relieve the tension. “We kinda had a moment there, guess this makes us friends.”
His eyes seem to light up at that, and he grips his shorts in exhilaration. “Really?” He asks, almost in wonder.
“Not if you act like that, no.”
He huffs, rolling his eyes. Though, he reluctantly agrees not to act like it’s such a foreign concept, as he walks back with you back into the treehouse.
After that, you slept quite well.
#gender neutral reader#reader insert#x reader#jurassic world camp cretaceous#camp cretaceous#jurassic world
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The Dreams of Hyacinth 3
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Nick and Eastern left the bar and headed down the street. When they reached an intersection with a large blue and yellow painted square in it, Eastern stopped and looked on her pad.
"We're really going to take a Hopper, Eastern?" Nick looked up in the sky. "I hate the Hoppers."
"It's the fastest way to cross arms, Nick, you know this."
Since the arms of Hyacinth were only connected at the bottom, moving from one arm to the other was a bit of an ordeal. One had to make it all the way to the base, then walk along until they got to the other arm, catch transit and head back up. There were whole groups of people who prided themselves on having been born, lived and grown old never leaving 'their' arm.
The Hopper was a solution to the problem of crossing arms. It was a small vehicle, carrying anywhere from one to ten people, that would descend from the sky when summoned and 'hop' up into the air and over to another arm and drop the passengers off.
Only the rich and people looking for an ostentatious way to spend money took a Hopper. Even those of moderate means would take mass transit to the base. A Hopper ride could cost a month's wages.
As they waited, the warning siren of the descending Hopper started softly and got louder as it came down. Coming down on the hum of thrusters, the Hopper was an aerodynamic box that kind of looked like an expensive loaf of bread. When it touched down, an automated voice stated "Thank you for choosing Hopper. Please stand back until the doors have opened completely." As the doors opened, a small fanfare played and Nick smelled incense.
"Sandalwood?" He looked at Eastern.
She shrugged. "I'm sure it's to hide whatever happened in the cab with the last passengers."
"Ew" Nick peered inside.
Eastern raised an eyebrow. "Don't be so squeamish Nick, I was hoping you'd take me for a Hopper ride while we were dating. Having sex in the Hopper is a popular date night." She stepped past Nick and got in.
"I say again, ew." Nick got into the Hopper.
As soon as they were seated, the doors slid shut and it took off. Nick was surprised at how rough the takeoff was. He expected more of an elevator gliding up, but instead it was much more... dramatic. "This is kind of rough, isn't it?"
"People are paying for that. Gotta feel like you're going somewhere."
As soon as they left the ground and rose above the level of the buildings, the Hopper's direction began to move towards the arm the Eastern had requested. Being that Hyacinth spins for 'gravity' as soon as they were free of that motion, things began to feel very weird. Nick doesn't get motion sick, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either. He looked over at Eastern who was plastered to the window, watching Hyacinth pass below her. "People fuck in this thing Eastern? I figure they'd get airsick."
She laughed. "Nick, they'll stop in the center, relative to Hyacinth. You can fuck in microgravity for the low low price of a month or two's wages. Lots of folks use it to show off to their dates."
Nick quickly took his hand off the cushion. "Ew" He said again.
"Nick, they clean them."
"Not enough, I'll wager. I bet sandalwood is cheaper."
Eastern scoffed and went back to looking out the window.
Nick watched idly as Hyacinth spun under them as they flew to another arm. From high overhead, Nick could see that this one was much more industrial than the more residential arm he lived in. Things that look like factories dotted the arm, connected with heavier above ground rail lines than the lighter, hidden metro.
They dropped down into a Square that Nick wasn't familiar with. As the Hopper bounced once and landed, the doors opened, and the automated voice said "Thanks for choosing Hopper! Remember us for all your cross-arm transit needs!" and the little fanfare played again.
Nick had never been on this arm, and was completely lost. Eastern clearly had been here before, and she led him away from the Square, walking purposefully. Eastern turned left and right seemingly randomly as they walked through smaller and smaller alleys until she stopped in front of an armored door. Nick looked up. It looked like a warehouse or a factory or something. Tall, with a false brick facade to hide it's generic construction, it felt like someone doing their best with little money to make the place look like more than the box it was.
Eastern walked up to one of the doors and pressed a small box to the entry pad. Instead of the door opening however, two hatches slid open above them and rather large slug throwers spun out, their servos whining ominously in the quiet of the alley.
"What are you doing, Eastern?" There was a terse voice coming through the speaker. You are supposed to come alone after the job is done."
Eastern pointedly did not look at the slug throwers. "We need to see Jameson. It's about the job. I brought Nick along to corroborate the story."
"We don't know him from Gord, why would we take any bullshit he says as the truth?"
Eastern looked at Nick and raised her eyebrows, like she was trying to get him to join in.
Nick couldn't stop looking at the slug throwers who were following whoever was speaking. "Uh, I was at the job, I can prove I did it as ordered. There's a... complication, that's all."
There was a long pause. Then, the slug throwers spun back into their hatches, and the door unlocked with a loud clank. Only then, did Eastern take a breath and open the door. "Come on Nick, we've got to talk to Jameson."
Nick followed Eastern into the building. After a vestibule with more slug throwers - they were powered down at least - they came into a waiting room. It was... cozy? There were large, comfortable looking leather chairs, deep carpets and even a fireplace?
It wasn't real of course. Any fire on Hyacinth was a serious problem dealt with by the fire brigade as quickly as possible, but at first glance, it was a good illusion. A women was sitting at a desk in the room, watching something on her pad and chewing gum. Her eyes flicked up to Eastern and Nick and she said "Have a seat. Jameson will see you in a bit," and her eyes went back to her pad.
Eastern sat on the long couch across from the fake fire and patted a spot next to her. Nick sat back down, and Eastern leaned against him. Her scent and warmth familiar to him. "Thanks for coming Nick" she mumbled into his shoulder as she leaned against him. "I was worried for a moment you'd say no."
"Oh Eastern." Nick lifted his arm and put it around her, bringing his friend in close. "Old Boring Nick can't leave you in a lurch, you know that."
"I know." She lifted her head and looked at Nick. "I take advantage of it sometimes. I know you still love me."
Nick blinked. That was sudden. How was he supposed to reply to that? It was true, at least a little bit, but Nick thought that people weren't supposed to discuss things like that. "Eastern, you know I'd do anything for you. Even more so when you're paying me."
"I know Nick. You shouldn't though." She buried her head deeper. "I'm no good."
Nick put his arm around her tighter for a hug and she sighed and leaned in more. "Good thing for you I'm a terrible judge of character."
"You really are, Nicholas North, you really are." Eastern sniffed. "We're fucked, you know that right?"
Nicks reply was soft, quiet. "I had a hunch, yeah."
"So why did you come along?"
He shrugged just a little, Eastern's head bobbed as he did so.
"You asked me to."
"Oh Nick..." Nick felt the wetness as Eastern's tears soaked into his shirt. "Nick... if we make it out of this, do me a favor?"
"Sure thing Eastern, what is it?"
"Take me up for a Hopper ride."
Nick couldn't help himself. He blushed just a tiny bit. "Yeah. Okay Eastern, I'll take you up. We can see all of Hyacinth from the air."
She sniffed. "I'd like that Nick."
The girl at the desk looked up. "Mister Jameson will see you both now."
They both stood. Eastern wiped her eyes quickly and wiped her hands on her pants. She took a deep breath, her face hardened and she strode towards the door. She turned back. "Come on Nick, we can't keep him waiting."
Nick couldn't believe it, but he was proud and impressed with how fast she pushed her feelings down and her complete change of attitude. He shrugged and followed her through the door.
The moment they were both through the darkened doorway, it was slammed shut by an unseen hand, and a different pair of arms grabbed Nick and Eastern and thrust them into chairs. The option of resisting didn't even cross Nick's mind as straps were wrapped around his chest and legs. Eastern tried to resist a little and she got a back of the hand across her face for her trouble.
"Fuck! Jameson, why is he wearing rings?"
There was a cackling laugh from the darkness as the straps were tightened. "Your boy didn't even resist, Eastern. Is he the brains of the pair of you?"
"Jameson! We did exactly what you asked, we-"
Eastern was slapped again.
"Quiet, Eastern. When I need to know something, I'll ask. Until then, keep your hatch closed.
The lights came up in the room, and Nick saw Jameson for the first time. When his eyes adjusted to the room, he gasped.
Jameson was an AI.
Normally, it was tough to tell an AI in a body from a BI. They worked hard to make sure their bodies were as close to a biological human as possible. It was a point of pride among some them to pass as human.
Jameson made no effort to pass as a human. His body was missing from the torso down. Tubes and wires hung limply from his stomach, and he was clearly connected to the desk he sat at. His eyes met Nick's as Nick was staring and he winked. "At last we meet, Nicholas North. Am I what you expected?"
"Honestly sir, I didn't even know Eastern was in your employ. We always took jobs from her, and she provided the payment."
Jameson nodded. "Smart of her. I knew that she had a good head on her shoulders." He inclined his head towards her. "It's why you're both alive right now, honestly. He disconnected from the desk, and a small chair on wheels backed away. With a whirr, he wheeled over to where Nick and Eastern were strapped. "How much longer you're alive remains to be seen however." He leaned in to Eastern's face, and she stared at him defiantly. "Tell me what happened. Everything."
Eastern started the story from when she received the job, and Nick would add in where relevant. How he was able to get into the Houndstooth Offices by signing up for a tour (he did not mention Selkirk's work in getting the job set up for them), how he ducked out of the tour to 'use the bathroom,' how be boosted the coffin box from the lab - right where Eastern said it was - Nick made sure to point that out. For a split second, Nick thought about skipping the part about how he got pinged by the Houndstooth CorpCops on the way out of the building, but lost them in the metro and ended with him going to the Thirsty K'laxi to give the coffin box to Eastern.
When they had finished, Jameson leaned back in his chair and looked at both of them with a cool gaze. "You know Nick, a lot of people would have glossed over the fact that you got pinged on the job. They might think me upset that the job wasn't 100% glass." He leaned forward. "You did the right thing though. No job is 100% glass. You got pinged sure, but you ducked the ping like a pro and nothing came of it. I've been checking the Houndstooth back channels to see if I could find out when you boosted the box, and honestly, nobody has said anything yet. I don't even think they know it's gone.
Eastern visibly relaxed.
"But. The fact remains that the box is empty. Eastern scanned it, and I scanned it before you started your story. They either knew someone was going to try and boost her and moved her, or she was never there to begin with and our info was wrong."
Jameson wheeled himself back to his large desk. With a whirr and click, he connected back into it. "Here's what's going to happen. You two-" he gestured to them "-are going to find out where she went. If she's in another coffin box, boost it. If she's in a body, nab her. If - God Forbid - they gave her a ship, steal it. I don't care how, you find her and you bring her back to me."
Eastern was even more pale than usual. She was very frightened of Jameson. Nick, being much more stupid than Eastern, or emboldened by the idea of dating her again spoke up. "Okay Jameson. We'll find her. We'll need some help."
"Your K'laxi fixer? I know about Selkirk. I already assumed she's in the job."
"Well yes, but I mean more, that we need more info. Who are we nabbing. I don't need to know why, but I need who. It'll make it easier to find her if they gave her a body or a ship."
Jameson looked at Nick. He stared a long time, like he was weighing a decision in his head. Finally, he blinked and shook his head. "All right Nick, fine. Her name was - is, Yon." He looked away from Nick.
"She's my daughter."
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#humans are deathworlders#humans are space orcs#humans are space oddities#sci fi writing#writing#humans and aliens#jpitha#the k’laxiverse#The Dreams of Hyacinth
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@markedprey said: It was late, really late- that much he knew. However, time wouldn’t stop him from celebrating something so important- something as meaningful as his birthday. Never had he cared for such things, until he stumbled into his life one day. Now, it was important to him, just to see those little moments of joy that would spark in his eyes. “You still wanna go somewhere? For your birthday, I mean.” To think, once it wasn’t even a thought that would pass his mind- to give him the freedom to choose where they’d roam. But he promised him a trip, to wherever didn’t matter. So long as he was happy, was all that mattered. “If you wanna leave, we can take a couple days… just you and me.”
leland liked evenings like this. a little cooler, quiet. just them. elbows are propped against a rickety railing, and they're looking out over the cotton fields surrounding the abandoned mill. up high, away from the house, from prying eyes. from feeling like some defenseless prey animal, penned in with the wolves. funny, fucked-up, or both, to be shoulder-to-shoulder with one, now. to feel safe, when he quietly steals a glance at johnny's profile, against the rose-dusk sky. just watching him out of his peripherals. taking a sip of his beer, thinking real deep about something, maybe. leland could tell — johnny found some kind of peace here, too. leland wishes it was always easy, like this. he wishes there was nothing to be scared of.
johnny speaks, and leland hums a noise of surprise. swings a bright-eyed look up at him; ❝ really? ❞ he asks, perking up. though he tries not to sound too eager — like, a regular amount. honestly, his birthday had been the last thing on his radar. didn't really seem like the type of thing they did, around here. let alone the type of thing he got to have, anymore. jesus. he turned twenty, locked up in this place. a year, since he'd been back at the dorms, with his old friends. now he's known johnny just as long as he'd known all of them. everything was different.
of course, they travelled off the property sometimes — johnny brought him along pretty often. motels and diners, long dusty roads with no sound at all but the radio desperately trying to catch a signal. when they didn't have to put a body in the back of johnny's truck, it was sometimes even nice — but they always had to come back home. and every time, he'd watch the line of johnny's shoulders go rigid, as they pulled into the property. part of him knows it's fucked, but facing things together made him feel like they were a team, somehow.
still, he followed johnny like a well-trained dog. and as easy as it would be to run, now, he never does. non-shockingly, spending months chained up in a basement would change your perspective on a couple things. like the wind in your hair, or the whole world outside the fences of the property. johnny was different when they were away, too. it was like he opened up, when he had the room to breathe. so, leland didn't ever complain about where they went. sometimes, he could even hassle johnny and get a drive-in, or a record store visit out of the deal. something like the illusion of freedom. for both of them, maybe. a place to hide in plain sight — to pretend they were anyone but who they really were. a killer. a dead boy. leland guesses he's both, now.
there's a familiar sinking in his chest. the voice that's always there, always scraping the back of his mind, that whispers; you're older than some of your friends will ever be. you're older than the leland mckinney on those missing posters, too. and part of him knows he should feel ashamed. he knows, whoever he is now would sicken that boy in the faded photo.
he doesn't realize just how long he's been quiet. johnny's waiting on him for an answer, and leland's eyes snap up to meet him again. he rubs the back of his neck, tries to recover with a laugh;
❝ ... could we go to a beach, maybe? doesn't have to be like, the ocean, or anything special. ❞ he'd probably accept a good pond, even. he wanted to feel open water under his fingertips. look out into something and wonder how deep it went. how far. what people lived like on the other side of it. leland grins at johnny, crooked and soft; ❝ you ever go? swimming, or camping or whatever? mom used to take us to lake texhoma. by the border. we have family in oklahoma. ❞ corners of his eyes crinkle with warmth. ❝ bet there's some pretty lakes out this way. ❞
#compelled to immediately finish up the birthday asks and also i like them op#( ☆ ) ⸻ THE FILM WHICH YOU ARE ABOUT TO SEE... / ic.#markedprey#love the chance to mess around w a strange thought process
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i don’t know if you where asked this yet- but opinions on each character?
If you meant each character, theres only really like, *counts fingers*-9 characters I care about in the OMORI game-
So I'll just give you a run down of my opinions for these 9 lucky peons starting from my least favourite to my favourite I guess.
.. its complicated.
My feelings about Sunny is so turbulent that I honestly don't really know how to feel about him most of the time. This is the best I could describe it.
He's cute, and his flower crown is so fun to draw and colour.
But I hate him. And love him at the same time. Most of all, I genuinely pity him for living.
She's just too... she hits way too close to home.
Aubrey, like me, is a hypocrite who does things impulsively. I hate how I'd probably do the same thing if I was in her shoes.
And Headspace Aubrey just has this pretentious tone of speaking that I definitely have (no matter how sincere I try to sound), so I can't even tell if she's kinning me or I'm kinning her anymore
Also fanfic writers, except for the few exceptions, cant for their lives write her right. Like do you guys just write Aubrey in there for the Sunburn????
Now on to my top 3
I draw her so much... way too much... 大姐我爱你。。。
TOP 2 is tied between
SLAY. QUEEN. SLAY.
Even tho she got her heart sweeped #heartsweep she's the queen in my heart 🎇
I'm probably like the #2 Sweetheart fan, right behind @lesleyn lmao
EUGH, IM CURRENTLY IN A HERO OBSESSION AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHHHHHHH AJSBWUJSNDNSKDJEH.
OH HERO YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH. YOU DESERVE TO GO BATSHIT AND YOU DESERVE TO GO INTO A YBM PHASE, BECAUSE I WILL STILL LOVE YOU AND SUPPORT YOU. 💔💔
Oh Hero... someone please feed me some Hero content PLEASE.
NOW ONTO THE TOP 1 WHICH TIED BETWEEN THESE THREE.
So I didnt really care about him all that much in the begining BUT THEN
Hikikomori route.
S P A C E - E X H U S B A N D
And then there was this Spaceboy centric fic that's about him stumbling into blackspace and realising the truth and i-
AND I FELL, HEAD OVER HEELS- COMPLETELY IN LOVE, LIKE MARRY ME PLEASE TYPE OF LOVE.
You are too good for SWEETHEART, my queen is mine and you are mine as well.
K E L
Just Kel.
The core of The Gang (sorry Mari, you got outshoned here)
Reblog if you agree.
And then there was one. The king of headspace and my heart 🖤🤍
I actually dont know why I love him so much, maybe he really is just the better version of Sunny (IN MY OPINION) he just gives off this empty, empty, depressing feeling that I love oh so much
and maybe one part of me is just super bitter with the fact that A03 writers always write Omori as this villain.
#Phew so yeah#lmao i feel like i didnt answer your question#i kind of went off rails somewhere along the lines#but this is generally how i feel about all of them#so it is my most accurate opinions about them#maybe I'll write a long analysis for each individual characters when im in the mood#QnA with Mango#omori fandom#omori#omori fanart#omori mari#omori sunny#omori aubrey#omori basil#omori hero#omori kel#omori omori#omori sweetheart#omori spaceboy#my art
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My sim (a different one, not related to either of the ones I posted before), has a teenage vampire son and he is a very good and sweet boy who just wants to spend every night fishing and practicing music. His name is London and I adore him.
#I actually did very little editing to him too#he gets most of his looks from his vampire mom#like his hair color his eyes his ears and his fangs (obvs) from his vampire mother.#He gets his complexion and his love of music and the outdoors from his human mom#who is raising him alone#because his vampire mom is kind of evil#and his human mom doesn't want vamp mom having a bad influence on him.#Z plays:#The Sims#I legit adore him though.#also lol sorry about the blinding neon orange shirt.#It's his favorite color and I didn't realize the photo's contrast would be so dramatic.#somewhere along the line my game went off the rails and now I guess we're playing with the supernatural elements.
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Hii!! Could you pls write a James Norrington x wife!reader oneshot where the reader is pregnant and wakes James up in the middle of the night because she got hungry and didn’t want to go downstairs by herself because she’s worried she might trip? Just make it warm and fluffy with a very caring James always asking if she was still hungry ☺️ Have a great day!
Hello dear 💖, thanks for your request.
James norrington x wife reader⚔️👰♀
A lady to behold🤰
It had been at least year since James’s encounter with the infamous Jack sparrow, he swore to give the pirate a wicked chase. The man’s mind was driven on tracking down that pirate, however at a cost he had lost a woman who was betrothed to him. James’s heart was shattered as she chose Will Turner after promising to marry him, in the end he respected her decision. The man was the captain of the interceptor, he was the admiral of her majesty, a proud Commodore of the royal navy. James’s pride could get in the way of many things, he promised to capture Sparrow and bring him to justice, however somewhere down his line of work he met a woman. A lady that mended what he wanted, she brought him love and light in his life. He married her in Port Royal after asking her to become his wife, y/n had taken her vows to hold her lover for the rest of her life.
In Port Royal, the moon shined over the horizon of the waters. In a mansion, the admiral slept peacefully along side his wife y/n, y/n had many attributes anyone could ask for. She had kindness, a heart of gold and loyalty. Y/n was about 5 months pregnant; she wore a flowy dress that would slightly show the bump in her stomach. In the middle of the night, y/n awoke to feeling hungry, she pulled the sheets off her and hoisted herself up. She started to walk; the floorboards creaked with every step. Y/n gasped as she nearly fell down the stairs, she held onto the railings to steady herself. Y/n looked back toward her sleeping husband; she didn’t want to wake him since he looked so peaceful. However, she was quite hungry, in instinct she gently went over to wake her husband “James” she muttered.
James in turn rolled over muttering “what”, he was half asleep, he couldn’t exactly see straight. Y/n whispered, “James please, I’m famished and I can’t walk down those stairs”.
The admiral started to flicker his eyes awake; he raised his hand over his eyes rubbing them. “Y/n, my dear it’s quite late, shouldn’t you be asleep” he questioned. Y/n started to plead him “I’m hungry, it’s late I know but I must eat”. James slightly shifted himself up, he couldn’t argue with his wife after all, she was precious to him. He pulled the covers off him and held y/n in his arms while he gently walked her down the stairs. He gently he sat y/n down, he asked the maids if they could fix up some soup for his wife. The maid nodded and served y/n some soup with bread, it was perfectly warm. James sat beside y/n; he held her closely while she ate. “Forgive me, I should���ve listened to you, in this condition your vulnerable” James apologized.
Y/n smiled at her husband “my love, you needn’t not worry for I awoke you at an ugly hour”. James pressed his head against his wife, he closed his eyes pressing his hand against the baby bump. “I love you y/n, ever since you found me, I couldn’t bare to part with you” James whispered. Y/n leaned in, her lips gently pressed against the admirals, the two shared a deep meaningful kiss. “My y/n, may I ask if you are still hungry” James asked, y/n replied with a smile “no, it’s perfect, the soup is of perfect temperature”.
James was always worried about y/n, he had never experienced something as strong as this. He was always a gentleman and quite good looking yet, never did he ever end up with a woman. Y/n was just a quiet bookworm until she met the admiral, she caught his interest even though it took time for them to get together. “Tell me the tale of the infamous Jack sparrow one more time” y/n asked, she had heard of James telling his story of his encounter.
For the rest of the night, James was looking after y/n, he was finally happy with the woman he truly loved, his wife, Y/n Norrington.
Anyways that's all I have for now:
Ta Ta ✨️
#pirates of the carribean oneshot#pirates of the caribbean x reader#james norrington#james norrington x reader#potc oneshot#potc#pirates of the caribbean headcanon#pirates of the caribbean oneshot#potc x reader#james norrington oneshot
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Chapter Five
The Bogeyman
A Heart of Ice - Jack Frost x fem!Reader
Chapter Four, masterpost
Word count: 3146
Summary: the first encounter after a bad parting is always awkward, but it usually doesn’t lead to a full-on skirmish. This time, it does.
Notes: couldn’t decide if it’s supposed to be “boogeyman” or “bogeyman” so I just went with the one that got rid of the little red line (”bogeyman”). Please, if anyone is an expert on this, let me know which one is actually correct 🤞
“North, North!” Jack shouted, running to catch up with him. “I told you, I’m not going with you guys! There is no way I’m climbing into some rickety old…” He trailed off, stopping dead in his tracks.
“Sleigh?” you finished for him, grinning. It had been ages since you rode in the sleigh yourself, and the last time you’d had your hands had been tied to the railing and Yetis with spears seated either side of you, but you’d never forget the feeling. It wasn’t as great as riding the wind with Jack, but it was a million times better than jumping from place to place.
The sleigh in question was being pulled by the same massive reindeer you remembered, still a gleaming red with silver and gold trimmings and still very imposing. The reindeer were all snorting, tossing their antlered heads and stomping their hooves almost like they were trying to shake you up.
“Ok, one ride,” Jack said. “But that’s it.”
“You remember this, eh, (Y/N)?” Bunny grinned, elbowing your side. “Want the same guards? I bet North’s still got the ropes somewhere too—”
“You better shut your mouth right now, rabbit.” you hissed, nodding to Jack who was swinging into the sleigh, running his hand along the side of it. “He doesn’t need to get pulled into all this.”
“Oh, you haven’t told him?” The rabbit laughed, then nudged North. “Get this, she hasn’t told him!”
“She doesn’t need to,” he replied. “I don’t see why you should either. It’s her business, and like she said, he doesn’t need to get pulled into it all. Very messy.”
“Thanks,” you muttered, shooting a last glare at Bunny before joining Jack.
“Everyone loves the sleigh,” North continued as if nothing had happened. “Bunny, what are you waiting for?”
“I think my tunnels might be faster, mate,” he called. “And uh, safer.”
“Argh!” North grunted, grabbing his scruff and pulling him over the side. “Get in! Buckle up!”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Bunny said frantically, looking around. “Where are the bloody seatbelts?”
“Dunno,” you grinned, “I’m sure there’d be a bit of rope lying around. Maybe you’d like that?”
“Hah!” North shouted, oblivious to the death glare Bunny was aiming your way. “Seatbelts was just expression. Are we ready? Good, let’s go!” He slapped the reigns down, shouting at the reindeer as they took off down the snowy runway and into a tunnel.
Beside you, Jack laughed, pointing to where Bunny’s claws were leaving scratch marks on the paintwork. He pulled you against him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you hurtled through icy corridors, Bunny still screaming and North still shouting.
“I hope you like loopty-loops!” he called back as you rounded a corner, the reindeer leaping onto the roof of the tunnel, dragging the sleigh upside down. You held tighter to Jack.
“I hope you like carrots,” Bunny muttered, pressed back against the seats.
“Here we go!” North ignored his protesting, slapping the reigns down once more as you came around a corner, bursting into the open.
Jack moved his hold to your hand, dragging you with him to the edge of the sleigh and leaning out over the railing. The wind toyed with his hair, making it all stand up like some kind of silver dandelion as he laughed, his eyes sparkling.
“You having fun there?” you yelled over the wind, but you were smiling too.
“Yes!” he shouted back, then looked past you to Bunny. He winked, then let go of your hand and jumped up onto the back railing.
“Jack, what—” you started, but stopped when he raised a finger to his lips.
“Hey Bunny,” he said, “check out this ahh--!” He broke off in a yell, tumbling backwards over the railing.
“Jack!” you shouted, jumping over in a flash.
“North!” Bunny yelled, looking around wildly but not moving. “He’s— he’s—!” Still shaking, he pulled himself up enough to see over. You leaned over beside him, frantically searching below. If this was one of Jack’s jokes…
“Aw,” the boy smiled, swinging his legs casually from the sleigh’s foot, “you do care.”
“Rack off ya bloody show pony,” Bunny growled, and you couldn’t help but agree with him.
“I swear to god, Jack,” you muttered as he leapt back into the sleigh, landing lightly beside you and draping an arm around your shoulders.
He was stopped from saying anything by North, who called back to you, “hold on, everybody! I know a short cut!”
“Oh, oh, strewth, I knew I should’ve taken the tunnels!” Bunny pressed himself back against the seats again, staring straight ahead.
“I’ve heard it helps to keep your eyes on the horizon.” you said, completely deadpan.
“Shut ya trap,” he growled.
There was a tinkling sound, then a burst of light from up ahead. “Tooth palace!” North shouted, then you were being enveloped by a whirl of rainbow light, and you were back in the air. Only something else was with you, something black and smoky, trailing sand as they streamed through the air around.
“Oh no,” you whispered. You recognised this, you knew this feeling. Just from seeing this sand, these creatures, you could practically hear his laugh, see his dark eyes gleaming.
“(Y/N)?” Jack asked, “are you alright?”
“It’s him,” you said softly, then louder. “It’s him.”
“What?” North asked, swerving to avoid the bullets of trailing black sand. They kept coming, shooting past the sleigh and narrowly missing you.
“They’re taking the tooth fairies!” Jack shouted, and with a start you could see that he was right. Little fairies were being snatched up by the creatures, taken to who knew where.
“Wait, don’t do anything!” you shouted, but it was too late. Jack jumped up, snatching a fairy from one of the creatures and cradling it gently against his chest.
“Hey, little baby Tooth,” he said gently, “you ok?”
It squeaked, nodding.
“Jack!” North shouted, thrusting the reigns into his hand. “Here, take over!”
“Huh?” Jack hastily shoved the tooth fairy into your hands, taking the reigns and frantically directing the reindeers away from the pillars and spires of the tooth palace.
“Watch out!” you yelled, and he swerved to avoid a golden lattice. Ahead, North was leaping through the air, sword in hand in pursuit of one of the nightmare creatures. He slashed at its side and it disappeared into black sand and smoke, scattering four hexagonal prisms onto the sleigh.
“They’re stealing the teeth!” Bunny called, picking one up and holding it out to Sandy. He frowned at the spatter of black sand on his arm, then at you.
“I swear I don’t know what this is,” you said. “I’ve never seen this sand before.”
“Jack look out!” North shouted, snapping your attention back to the front of the sleigh. Jack hauled on the reigns, bringing the sleigh around a corner and somewhat gently down onto the platform. At least, with no broken bones sustained by the passengers.
Above, Tooth was fluttering frantically, darting between columns and searching for anyone or anything left.
“Tooth!” North called, “Are you alright?”
“They… they took my fairies,” she panted, “and the teeth. All of them! Everything is gone… everything.” She sunk to her knees, and you quickly jumped to her side, resting your hand on her shoulder. You’d never had a personal problem with a Tooth, not the way you did with Bunny, mainly because she’d never had one with you. Sure, you disliked the Guardians, but on the few occasions when you’d seen them, the fairy had been, dare you say, nice. As much as you hated hated to admit it, it hurt a bit to see her so distressed.
There was a squeak, and a fluttering of tiny wings, and suddenly you remembered the little fairy still with you. She was hiding in your hair, you thought.
“Oh, thank goodness one of you is alright!” Tooth cried, gently cradling the fairy.
“I have to say, this is very, very exciting.” Came a cold voice, stopping you from replying. “The big four, all in one place! I’m a little starstruck.”
Please no, you thought, scanning the surroundings.
“Did you like my show on the Globe, North?” Pitch asked, leaning over the balcony above. He was exactly the way you remembered him, just how he was in your dreams. Or nightmares, you supposed. “Got you all together, didn’t I?”
“Pitch!” Tooth shouted, zooming up towards him. “You have got 30 seconds to return my fairies!”
“Or what?” he asked, appearing on the next spire across. “You’ll stick a quarter under my pillow?”
“Why are you doing this?” North asked, raising his swords.
“Maybe I want what you have,” he gritted, glaring at the other guy. “To be believed in. Maybe I’m tired of hiding under beds!”
“Maybe that’s where you belong,” Bunny countered.
“Go suck an egg, rabbit.” He scoffed, disappearing again.
You jumped back down a level, out from where you were trying not to be noticed behind North and to Jack’s side. “Jack,” you whispered, making him jump.
“Don’t—”
“Shh!” You cut him off, glancing around. “Just remember that whatever he says is supposed to—”
“Hold on a minute,” his voice echoed, “is that (Y/N) I see down there? My, my, the company you’ve chosen to surround yourself with. Really, my dear, I thought you’d have better taste.”
“My taste has drastically improved since the last time I saw you,” you called, readying your bow.
“Has it? Hanging around with these old fools? And who’s this? Jack Frost? Since when are you all so chummy?”
“Leave him out of it, Pitch!” You knocked an arrow to your string, raising the weapon. You concentrated hard on the delicate shaft, watching as it paled to bright, opaque white. Just like a bone picked clean by the elements.
“We’re not,” Jack said, and you mentally kicked him.
Pitch laughed, and the next time his voice came from directly behind you. “Oh good,” he said, “a neutral party. Then I’m going to ignore you, but you must be used to that by now.”
“Don’t fucking say a thing,” you hissed, your arrow following Pitch as he moved behind the gold latticework to the left.
There was an explosion of movement behind you, and Bunny hurtled past. “Pitch!” he shouted, “you shadow-sneaking ratbag, come here!”
You lost track of what happened, but Pitch disappeared. You thought Tooth rushed after Bunny, but then everything was obscured by the awful black sand and you couldn’t hear anything over the roaring, whether it was the blood in your ears or something else.
“Woah! Hey! Easy, girl.” Up on the balcony, Pitch was now standing beside something else. A huge horse, made entirely of streaming black sand with bright golden eyes. It was horrible, but sort of beautiful in a way. Yes, Pitch had always been like that. Dark, intriguing, powerful, mesmerising. It was what had drawn you to him in the first place.
The creature whinnied, winding around Pitch’s slender form and glaring down at you.
“Look familiar, Sandman?” he asked, running a hand through the sand trailing from his monster. “Took me a while to perfect this little trick, turning dreams into Nightmares.”
“Sandy,” you said softly, jumping to the little man’s side, “don’t do anything. Don’t respond, don’t get angry. Don’t—”
“Don’t be nervous,” Pitch continued, cutting you off. “It only riles them up more. They smell fear, you know.”
“What fear? Of you?” Bunny laughed, taking his boomerang from Tooth who held it out to him. “No one’s been afraid of you since the Dark Ages!”
“Oh, the Dark Ages.” He sighed, his gaze sliding over to you. “Everyone frightened, miserable. So much… chaos. So much strife. Such happy times for me, for us. Oh, the power we held! Do you remember those times, (Y/N)?”
“Nope,” you said firmly. You could see Jack out of the corner of your eye, glancing between you and Pitch. You ignored him.
“A shame,” he sighed. “And then the Man in the Moon chose you all to replace my fear with your wonder and light, lifting their hearts and giving them hope! And then… and then you, (Y/N). You—”
“Stop, Pitch!” you shouted, raising your bow and pointing the arrow's tip directly between his eyes. “We don’t need to hear your sad life story, we all know how it goes. Everyone wrote you off as a bad dream, nobody believed in the Bogeyman anymore. Blah, blah, blah, what’s new?”
“(Y/N), what the--?” Jack whispered, looking at you like you’d gone nuts.
You didn’t reply, watching as Pitch stared at you. You couldn’t quite read the expression on his face, so you reached out towards his emotions. Bitterness, anger, hatred, the craving for power, everything just as it was the last time you’d done this. But there, underneath it all, was a tiny glimmer of something else. He missed you, genuinely missed you.
“That’s all about to change,” he laughed, his mouth twisting into a wicked grin. Behind him, part of the paint on the spire of the palace was crumbling, followed by more and more of the massive structure. “Oh look,” he smiled, “it’s happening already.”
“What is?” Jack asked, turning to Tooth.
She gasped, staring in disbelief at her crumbling home.
“Children are waking up and realising the Tooth fairy never came,” Pitch continued. “It’s such a little thing, but to a child…”
“What’s going on?” Jack frowned, glancing from Pitch to Tooth to the crumbling walls, and finally to you.
“They… they don’t believe in me anymore.” Tooth said, her eyes bright with tears.
“Didn’t they tell you, Jack?” Pitch laughed. “It’s great being a Guardian, but there’s a catch. If enough kids stop believing, everything your friends protect – wonder, hopes and dreams—it all goes away. And little by little, so do they. No Christmas, or Easter, or little fairies who come in the night. There will be nothing by fear and darkness. And me. It’s your turn not to be believed in.”
With a shout, Bunny released his boomerang, sending it spinning end over end towards Pitch. You followed, each with your own weapons as Pitch jumped astride the Nightmare, speeding over the edge of the balcony and downwards, around a corner. Bunny threw a few eggs, explosions of coloured gas obscuring everything from view. When they cleared, there was no sign of your quarry.
“Nice one,” you snapped, sliding your arrow back into your quiver and putting away your bow.
“Zip it, (Y/N).”
“He’s gone,” North muttered, looking around. Everyone looked at each other, all doing the same as you.
To your right, Tooth fluttered sadly over to the edge of a pool, a hexagonal prism of teeth clutched in her hand. The little fairy you saved went with her, chittering quietly.
“I’m sorry about the fairies,” Jack said, crouching next to her. He looked up at you, gesturing for you to come over as well. You glanced at the others, chewing the inside of your cheek, then back to Jack.
“You should’ve seen them,” Tooth smiled sadly. “They put up such a fight.”
“Why would Pitch take the teeth?“ you asked, kneeling beside your friend as the little fairy flew in circles around him.
“It’s not the teeth he wanted,” Tooth sighed, looking up at you. “It’s the memories inside them.” She held out the prism, tapping it lightly with a finger.
“What do you mean?” Jack asked, frowning.
“That’s why we collect the teeth, Jack. They hold the most important memories of childhood.” She got up, fluttering across the water of the pool towards a mural on one wall. You followed, Jack creating a path of curling frost over the water. “My fairies and I watch over them,” she continued, “and when someone needs to remember what’s important, we help them. We had everyone’s here, yours too. And yours.”
“M-my memories?” Jack stammered.
“From when you were young,” Tooth elaborated. “Before you became Jack Frost.”
“But… I wasn’t anyone before I was Jack Frost.”
“Of course you were,” Tooth smiled. “You too, (Y/N), before you were Cupid. The first time, that is.”
You glanced at Jack, then back to Tooth and shook your head. Just the tiniest bit, but she seemed to get the idea. You didn’t want Jack to know about Eris.
“We were all someone before we were chosen,” she said, her violet eyes shifting between the two of you.
“W-what?” Jack’s breathing was coming fast, and you could practically see his neurons firing frantically as he processed this new information. “That night at the pond,” he whispered. “I just assumed… I… Are you saying I had a life before that? With a home? And a family? (Y/N),” he turned to you, his eyes shining. “I had a home! And a family! You had a family! You… we… we could…” He trailed off, looking back up at Tooth.
“You really don’t remember?” she asked, frowning.
“All these years,” he murmured. “All these years, the answers were right here! If I find my memories, I’ll know why I’m here!” He grabbed your shoulders, still with that look on his face. “We’ll know, (Y/N). We’ll know why. Tooth, you have to show me! Show us!” He jumped up, rushing through the air away from you and Tooth.
You made to follow him, then looked back at Tooth. She was watching sadly, shaking her head. “I can’t, Jack,” she sighed. “Pitch has them.”
He stopped mid-air, spinning to face you. “Then we have to get them back!”
Tooth opened her mouth to answer, then gasped. “Oh no, the children! We’re too late.” She looked down at herself, at the feathers drifting off her and onto the ground. Behind her, the mural on the wall was fading, the colours becoming splotchy and grey.
“No!” North protested, drawing his swords. “No, no such thing as too late! Hmm…” he muttered, pacing on the spot. “Wait, wait, wait, wait wait wait wait wait… Idea!” He shouted with laughter, swinging his sword around and almost decapitating Bunny.
“So close,” you muttered to Jack as he settled beside you. He just shook his head, but he was smiling.
“We will collect the teeth!” North continued, grinning at you.
“What?” Tooth asked, incredulous.
“We get teeth, children keep believing in you!”
“We’re talking seven continents, millions of kids—”
“Give me break,” he scoffed. “You know how many toys I deliver in one night?”
“And how many eggs I hide in one day?” Bunny chimed in.
“And Jack, (Y/N), if you help us,” North turned to you, “we will get you your memories.”
Jack grinned, then looked at you, raising an eyebrow. It was clear how much he cared about those memories, about finding his teeth.
“We’re in,” you smiled, taking his hand.
Chapter Six
#jack frost#jack frost x reader#jack frost x yn#rise of the guardians#rise of the guardians fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#self insert fanfiction#reader insert#fem!reader#Self Insert#multi chapter#work in progress#teenage romance#angst with a happy ending#angst with a hopeful ending#angst with fluff#some angst#friends to lovers#friends to more#hurt/comfort#amnesia#miscommunication
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Pet (Karl Heisenberg x Reader)
[Summary: After being gifted to Heisenberg, you manage to survive his games. From there you start to develop an interesting relationship. And as you start to play the role of his pet, things get a bit interesting. (She/Her pronouns)
Warnings: SMUT, unhealthy relationship dynamics, Author belongs in horny jail, Reader has “female” anatomy, themes of pet play, swearing, biting (Blood), reader is losing her sanity a bit, spanking, oral (both receiving), hair pulling, unprotected penetrative (vaginal) sex
Request: Literally, not a single person asked for this. You only have me to blame.]
You felt a bit foolish, being in the situation you were in. You had been one of the people gifted to the “Lords” of the village to do with as they pleased by Mother Miranda. You had to admit, when you were frightened, even more so when you were handed over to the infamous “mad wolf-man”. He had quite the reputation. But unlike the others, you had proven yourself useful enough for him to keep you around, instead of experimenting on you or feeding you to his lycans.
You survived at first by staying out of his way. It was like a game to him. Heisenberg liked games, and you adapted to them rather quickly. At first, the game was to be the perfect assistant. You’d clean, cook, do minor repairs, and stay out of his way as needed. You were there when he needed you to do something, you’d do it perfectly, and then you’d be out of his sight. And he’d try to catch you slipping up, making you nervous with whispered promises of the punishments that awaited you if you did.
It was an odd dance, having to learn the ins and outs of Heisenberg’s moods. Learning how to tell when he was in a bad mood, and when he was in the mood to joke. And as time went on, it seemed that there were more days when he was in the mood to sit and banter with you. And you started to bond a bit, less as captor and captive, and more as something close to friends, though you wouldn’t necessarily call it friendship.
Eventually, he started to grow a bit fond of you, occasionally joking with you that he had started to see you as a pet. He’d grin a bit as he called you pet names, names that were somewhere between affectionate and demeaning. He’d pat your head, like he was praising a dog, when you did something right. He had even joked about making you a collar to show the rest of the Lords that you were his pet.
You knew you probably should’ve hated it. You should’ve gagged at the idea of a collar, and you should’ve hated his pet names. But you didn’t. You found yourself grinning when he called you a “good girl”. You leaned into his touch when he’d pat your head. You could feel yourself losing your sanity. You had to be insane to feel this way, but as you got to know Heisenberg, you found yourself feeling as though it was worth it.
Karl Heisenberg was an interesting man, and one you had to admit that you were fascinated by. He had a biting form of humor that had become much funnier as you realized you weren’t in the danger that you thought you were, and you could hear the intelligence behind it. His jokes were always at least a little clever, as long as he could keep his head. He was complex, with motivations and actions that didn’t always match. And his emotions were so complicated that you were pretty sure he hadn’t even started sorting through them, choosing to instead deny their existence.
He was a mess of a man. He got mad enough to throw metal scraps of rusted metal around the room when an experiment went wrong. He’d rant for hours about the issues he had with his “family”, having to hold himself back from breaking things when he got to Alcina. He felt as trapped as you did. He thought of letting his appearance go as an act of rebellion. Because of that, he’d go a full week without washing his clothes, letting the blood and oil stain the fabric until it might as well be dye. And he didn’t sleep for days sometimes, choosing instead to stay up all night in his workshop, only leaving when he starts to border on collapsing.
But between his anger issues and dysfunction, you saw something in him that you weren’t sure that even he saw. You saw it in the sparkle in his eyes when he figured out an issue that had been bothering him. You saw it in his sleepy groans when he woke up in the middle of the day after staying up all night before. You saw it in his smirks and smiles as he thought of something clever to say.
He was charming in his own way. Not in the way you thought of charming. He wasn’t elegant like Alcina, but he was warm. He was like a fire. Volatile. Deadly. Beautiful. And warm. And perhaps you were a bit of a pyromaniac, as you found yourself staring into a fire pit, longing to see the damage it could do if you let it free. You wanted to see what Heisenberg could do to you. You wanted to let him.
- - - - -
You were a bit suspicious that you weren’t hiding your feelings very well. Heisenberg was clever, and he was incredibly observant. He needed to be. His “family” didn’t exactly get along with him very well, and knowing what you knew about his “siblings”, they would’ve taken any opportunity possible to kill him and take his place as a favored lord. So he was constantly on his toes. And that meant that you were sure that he had noticed you were acting a bit off recently.
And you were sure that he had figured out exactly what was causing you to act that way, by the way that he teased. There was a glint in his eyes when you started to get flustered that was new to you. The way he smirked at you as he praised you, his hand resting casually on your arm for a few more seconds than before. He had even gone through with his collar joke, though he hadn’t given it to you to wear.
He’d wink at you as he held it in front of you, though. It was a silver chain that was about an inch thick, made into an easily adjusted necklace by the extra bit of chain that hung through the loop. The extra bit of chain that also worked as a built-in leash. He’d hold the collar in front of you, dangling it casually from one of his fingers when you started to get sarcastic with him, making comments about how his “pet” needed to be put in her place. And you’d try your best not to show how much you truly wanted that.
It had become another one of Heisenberg’s games. You could tell that he knew. And he knew that you knew that. So the game became how long you could go without breaking.
“So, kitten,” you jumped a bit as Heisenberg appeared behind you. You were making dinner, and had thought that Heisenberg was still working in his shop. He usually didn’t leave for dinner until you came to get him if he ate dinner with you at all, “You seem a bit spaced out. Care to tell me what you’ve got on your mind?”
You could say what you really wanted to. You could say that you wanted him to rail you until you couldn’t walk. But that would end the game. And Heisenberg only liked to end games if he could win them in a satisfying way.
“Nothing you need to worry about, sir,” You muttered, finishing the food you were cooking and pulling it off of the stove, “Just lost in thought.”
He hummed a bit, noticing how you refused to make eye contact. That wasn’t new, but you weren’t usually so awkward about it, “Come on, pet. I’d like to know if you’re planning your escape or something,” A bit of metal began to dangle in front of your face and you knew exactly what it was, “Honestly, (y/n), I really might have to put this collar on you if you’re going to be keeping secrets.”
“It sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to put a collar on me, Karl,” You had gotten a bit bold, knowing that the line of how much you could get away with was quite a bit further back, “You can just admit that you’re into that.”
He chuckled a bit, resting the arm that he was holding the collar with on your shoulder and leaning into you just a little bit. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him. You always wondered how he was always so warm, living in this factory, surrounded by the cold metal walls, “I don’t know, pet, you haven’t been protesting quite as much. It seems like you may be coming around to the idea. Maybe you’re projecting a bit.”
He had set his chin on your shoulder by the end of his statement, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear. It had sent a shiver down your spine, and you could tell he felt it by the satisfied hum that passed his lips.
“You’re not arguing with me, kitten,” he purred as you failed to muster up a rebuttal, “Is that what you want? You want me to put the collar on you? Do I need to put my needy little pet in place?”
Fuck. You shifted a little, trying not to make the throbbing between your legs obviously. You were trying so hard to think of a comeback, but the teasing had been going on for so long that you were reaching your breaking point. You wanted him to fuck you so badly that it made you look stupid.
He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him. It was so much harder to keep a poker face when you were looking into his eyes, when you could see that glint in them. The kind of glint that made you think he wanted to eat you alive. And you wanted him to.
“If you ask like a good girl, maybe I’ll give you what you want,” his voice came out so much smoother than usual. It intimidated you a bit, knowing that he was holding himself together so well. You knew that there was no way your voice was going to come out nearly as smooth.
“I’m not going to beg, Karl,” Your voice was shaking, but you tried to hold your cool. He always had fun when you talked back a little, and you were hoping that translated to this situation as well. And the wolf-like grin that grew on his face told you that you were right.
“We’ll see about that, kitten.”
- - - - -
You weren’t quite sure when the collar had appeared around your neck. Somewhere between the kitchen and Karl’s bedroom, though, it had snaked its way around your neck, even though his hands never seemed to leave your hips. You were a bit too occupied trying to keep up with his ravenous kisses.
His lips were latched onto your neck as he pushed you through the door to his room. You landed on his bed soon after with a slight bounce. You had been in his room before to clean, but the context was different now. The actual room itself was entirely irrelevant, as Karl climbed on top of you, throwing his hat and glasses to the side, not caring where they landed. All you could look at were his eyes, glowing bright yellow as he looked down at you.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how much of a fucking brat you’re being,” he growled, looking down at you, “You’ve earned yourself quite the punishment.”
He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, biting just below the hickey that was already forming on your neck. He growled a bit as you squeaked in surprise, biting down a bit harder. You both felt when he broke the skin, and something told you that the mark he was leaving was entirely on purpose. He didn’t want anyone to doubt who you belonged to. His fingers dug into your skin, one hand holding your wrist above your head and the other digging into your side just above your hip. You had a feeling you would be covered in marks and bruises in the morning, and you were alright with that.
He pulled your clothes off quickly, throwing them to the side of the room. He wasn’t wasting any time, so you were pretty sure he had ripped through a seam or two on your dress. And he didn’t hesitate to rip your underwear completely in half.
He threw you around so much easier than you had expected. You knew that he was strong, you had just expected it to take at least a little bit of effort. You supposed that you shouldn’t have underestimated his inhuman strength, because in seconds he had flipped you, moving you so that you were on your hands and knees in front of him. You were entirely vulnerable in front of him, entirely bare as he remained fully clothed behind you.
It was weirdly hot, being at his mercy. He wasn’t a good person, and you knew that. In fact, there was still a feeling in your chest reminding you that he could kill you whenever he wanted. But that didn’t matter at that moment. The fear just made it better in some sick way. You knew you were insane, you had to be, but if insanity felt this good, you were going to accept it.
“Now, kitten, be good and stay quiet through your punishment, and maybe you’ll get a reward,” he stated, sliding his hands from the place they were resting on your waist to rest on your ass instead, “Do I make myself clear?”
You nodded in response, not trusting your voice as his hands slid further down, reaching the back of your thighs, one of his thumbs dangerously close to your pussy. His hands were callused, so as they slid across your skin, it created an interesting sensation. Your eyes almost rolled back into your head as his thumb brushed lightly against your clit, and you heard him chuckle a bit at your reaction. However, before you could enjoy yourself too much, he pulled his thumb away, sliding his hands back up to your ass.
There was a pause for a few moments, and you felt his eyes scanning your body. They always seemed to feel so much more intense than anyone else’s gaze ever could. Before you could get self-conscious, though, one of his hands raised from its place, only to come back down hard. The smacking sound echoed through the entire room, and you couldn’t hold back your yelp.
“Now, now, pet, I thought I said to keep quiet. I’ll let this slide once because you’re cute, but any more, and I’ll have to add some more punishment,” he cooed, grabbing the leash of the collar around your neck and pulling it towards him. He leaned forward until he could actually look at your face, seeing the tears prick at the corners of your eyes already, “I’d hate to break my toy right away, so try to behave.”
He didn’t give you a chance to respond before shoving your head down into the bed and resuming your punishment. You bit your lip, trying your best not to actually break the skin, as you did your best to stay quiet. You were a bit surprised by how much you enjoyed it. After the first few, the pain started to melt away, hidden behind a numb tingling that sent electricity shooting through your whole body. And it was pretty obvious to Heisenberg as well, when slick started to drip down the inside of your thighs.
You lost count before he stopped, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen. He let out a satisfied hum as he looked at the handprints that were already starting to form, rubbing his hands gently over the forming bruises. You almost started purring as his hands continued to slide across your body.
“You’ve been such a good girl, kitten,” he praises as he moves your body, eventually making you stand in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed, “Do you want your reward now?”
You nod, far too gone to even try to not look like a desperate fool. He looked proud of himself, seeing you so needy and bare in front of him. It was like a work of art. You had never seen so much admiration and need in his eyes. It wasn’t love. But it was need, and want, and possession.
“Ask nicely.”
You were too desperate to argue. You needed him more than you could remember needing anything, “Please, sir.”
You swore you saw the bulge in his pants twitch at the word “sir” and the glint in his eyes confirmed your suspicions. The grin he gave you showed his teeth, highlighting his fangs like a predatory animal about to lunge.
“Good girl,” He drew it out, shifting his body so that his legs were spread as far as they could be comfortably, before commanding, “Kneel.”
You do as you’re told almost by instinct. It was almost as though your body moved without your brain giving it permission. You had been entirely possessed by your lust. And it only got worse as his hands moved to unzip his pants, only removing enough of his clothing to free his cock.
“You want this, don’t you?” He looked almost amused as your eyes locked onto his cock. You were practically drooling over it. He almost laughed as you nodded, “Enjoy your treat, pet.”
He leaned back a bit, his weight being put on one of his hands, positioned a bit behind him on the bed. He looked so casual as you moved your hands to timidly take the place of his own, which had previously been holding his cock in place. He had to admit you looked adorable, needy and desperate as you kneeled between his legs. You were practically drooling for him.
You started out a bit slow, which surprised him a little. The little kitten licks and kisses felt good enough for him to close his eyes to savor it. However, from the smirk that had formed on your face by the time that he opened his eyes, he realized that you were planning on teasing. He wasn’t about to let that slide.
The hand that he had rested on the top of your head tightened its grip on your hair. “Watch it, kitten. Don’t be a tease,” He growled, pushing your head down a bit until about half of his cock was in your mouth.
With that, your willpower to hold back faded, and you took the rest of him into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat just a bit, making you hold back a gag. And as you looked up at him through your lashes and found him smirking down at you, you could tell that he saw it. You reveled in the soft groans that slipped past his lips when you finally got to work, swirling your tongue around as you bobbed your head. You moaned as he pulled your hair, the vibrations causing him to curse and pull your hair even more, “Fuck, kitten, you’re pretty good at that.”
You continued like that for a few more minutes, his grip on your hair getting tighter and tighter. The salty, bitter taste of precum started to hit the back of your throat, making it a bit harder not to gag. But the sounds that slipped from his mouth fueled you even more. You felt proud, hearing how much he was enjoying himself. You almost felt a bit disappointed as he pulled you off of him by your hair, causing you to whine loudly.
“Aw, don’t worry, kitten,” He says, patting your head, “We aren’t done yet. Why don’t you lay down and let me take care of you? You’ve been such a good girl.”
You do as you're told, without saying anything. As you had gotten into the mode you were in, playing the role of Heisenberg’s pet, talking seemed unnatural. It felt right to listen to his commands, obeying him like a dog. So you laid on your back, spread out and completely bare. And you couldn’t hold back the yelp as he grabbed your hips and yanked you roughly to the edge of the bed, so that as he kneeled in front of you, his face was entirely level with your pussy.
You saw that glint in his eyes again as his warm breath hit your already dripping core. You were getting reckless, trying to inch your way closer to speed up the process, only for his grip to tighten on your waist, holding you in place. He had an iron grip on you, and you were thankful for that as he licked a broad stripe up across your pussy before diving in, focusing almost all of his attention on your clit.
You were practically screaming his name as swirled his tongue around your clit with dexterity you didn’t think was even possible to possess. His hands were definitely leaving fingerprint-shaped bruises on your hips, but at least they were holding you in place as you involuntarily started to buck your hips and arch your back. You could feel the knot tightening in your abdomen, your hands ripping the sheets so hard you were a bit worried that you were going to tear them. He slid a finger into you, hitting at just the right angle to make you squeal. You honestly couldn’t think of a time that someone had made you come undone quite so fast, but you certainly weren’t complaining as the tangled nerves in the pit of your stomach finally seemed to snap.
Karl had to admire you as you came, your head thrown back and your legs shaking. Your skin was practically glimmering from the thin layer of sweat that was already clinging to it. He couldn’t help the pride that flooded into his chest as you started to come down from your high looking absolutely destroyed. He wasn’t done yet, but he was glad to see he had it in him to affect you this much.
He slowly stepped back, his eyes never leaving you as you laid on the bed, trying to catch your breath. He made sure to lock eyes with you as he slowly stripped the rest of his clothes off, layer by layer. By the time you recovered, he was finally taking off his necklaces, dropping them onto the pile he had made with the rest of his clothing. Despite his strength, he wasn’t exactly ripped. His arms were fairly muscular and defined, but he had a bit of squish around his stomach. His body was coated in a layer of body hair, the bits of silver shining in the dim light of the room you were in.
He was attractive in the rugged way that made it make sense that he smelled like metal and cigar smoke as he crawled on top of you, keeping pace as you inch yourself further up the bed. It was only once you had settled into place that he leaned down, kissing you feverishly. It escalated with every second, the hand that he wasn’t using to support his body weight roamed your body. It wasn’t long until his hand was moving your legs, angling your hips to make it easier for him to line himself up with your entrance.
He pulled away from the kiss just long enough to slowly push himself into you, watching your reaction as you slowly adjusted to his width and length. It didn’t take you long to adjust, though, and he could tell when you did. He started off slow. It surprised you how gentle he was being, but you didn’t mind at first. Before long, though, you were craving more. You wanted him to use your body.
“Please,” You whined, “Harder.”
He grinned a bit at your begging, recalling your declaration that you wouldn’t beg. He honestly couldn’t tell what part he enjoyed more, the win he had earned or seeing you beneath him, begging for him. Either way, he wasn’t going to deny you what you wanted.
So he leaned back, shifting his weight to his knees so that he could grab your ankles. He pinned your legs to your chest. As he slammed into you, much harder than before, you could tell just how much the angle had changed. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head as he continued to thrust into you. Your moans got louder, and he started to groan a bit too, cursing under his breath as his thrusts got a bit uneven.
“Fuck, kitten,” he breathed into your ear as he leaned down, your legs on his shoulders. You could feel him twitching inside of you, getting close to his own ending, “You’re such a good girl.”
You couldn’t help yourself as your hands moved to scratch down his back, digging your nails in as deeply as you could. He responded by biting into the same place he had earlier, a bit of blood from before sticking to the corners of his mouth. With a few more rough thrusts, his teeth sinking a little bit deeper into your shoulder, he finished. And the two of you both started to relax.
After a few seconds of you both catching your breath, he pulled away, rolling to the side so that he could comfortably lay on his back next to you. It was an awkward few moments, both of you laying there in near silence, only for him to break it with, “We should probably get that bite cleaned up, huh? My bad, pet. I forget how fragile you are sometimes.”
And with that he got up, moving to gently take care of you. He cleaned up your bite mark, and helped you clean between your shaky legs with a damp washcloth. It was a whole new side of him as he helped clean you off, making sure that he hadn’t been hurt too badly. And after a few minutes, when you had been cleaned enough that you weren’t actively uncomfortable, he climbed back into bed and wordlessly pulled you into his chest.
(A/N: So... um. I'm sorry for this. This is my second smut ever and I needed to get a bit... self-indulgent so my brain would stfu.)
#karl heisenberg#lord heisenberg#heisenberg smut#re8 heisenberg#resident evil heisenberg#heisenberg x reader#karl heisenburg x reader#resident evil 8 village#resident evil village x reader
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Magicked Away
I saw this post from @ilovecharile last night and couldn’t help myself, so here’s a short piece inspired by their Forgotten AU concept!
Bill and Ben pulled into the yard at Brendam Docks and found Edward, resting in a siding. Their search had been entirely fruitless. Every engine they’d asked about BoCo so far was acting like he never even existed. They figured if anyone would tell them the truth, it’d be Edward.
“Hey, Edward,” they said together as they whistled in greeting. Edward smiled and whistled back.
“Hello, Bill and Ben,” he replied. “You look like you’ve got something on your minds.”
“We do,” said Bill.
“Why is it we haven’t seen BoCo recently? Is he away being mended?” Ben asked.
Edward was puzzled. “Who’s BoCo? Do I know him?”
The China Clay twins were shocked. They hadn’t expected that response from him at all.
“Of course you know him, Edward!” Ben said. “Y’know, the big green boxy diesel?”
“He runs the branch line with you! He has for years!” Bill added. “When you had that accident with your crankpin, he filled in for you while you were being mended, remember?”
“You told us exactly what kind of a diesel he is when we first met him!” Ben continued.
“Did I? And what is he, then?” Edward said with a grin, not fully believing them.
“He’s a… oh, no, I don’t remember,” said Ben. “I think it’s… Cosmopolitan Bickers?”
“Silly,” Bill said, “he’s a… a… Neapolitan Snickers!”
Edward chuckled. “Is this an engine or an ice cream flavor you’re talking about?”
“No, no, it’s…”
“It’s…”
The twins gasped as they remembered the words at the same time.
“Metropolitan Vickers,” they chorused. “BoCo’s a Metropolitan Vickers!”
“Hmm, a Metropolitan Vickers… big, green, and boxy…” Edward thought for a moment, then his face fell. “You wouldn’t be thinking of a Metropolitan Vickers Diesel Electric Type 2, would you?”
“Yes, yes! That’s it!” the twins peeped hopefully.
“I’m sorry, you two, but I’m fairly certain that there’s only one of those engines left. That class had a lot of mechanical problems, and the Other Railway has never been kind to engines like that. If your friend was one of that class, he’s probably long gone by now.”
Bill and Ben gasped. They were horrified. How could Edward say such a terrible thing?
“N-no, he doesn’t belong to the Other Railway, he, he belongs to the Fat Controller,” Ben stammered. “The Fat Controller doesn’t scrap his engines, you told us so.”
“Right! So he can’t be gone,” Bill went on. “He has to be around here somewhere, he has to…”
“I am sorry,” repeated Edward. “If there was an engine like that on the island, he was probably sent away for some reason years ago. And if he was, then…”
Ben suddenly went red in the face, and Bill began to tear up. “If you’re trying to get back at us for something we did, it’s not funny, Edward!” Ben shouted.
“How can you not remember BoCo?” Bill cried. “You share a shed with him!”
“He’s the only one you let call you ‘Ted’!”
“You love him!” The twins shouted in unison.
Now it was Edward’s turn to go red, first from shock, then from fury. He glared daggers at the twins. “You two should know better than to joke about things like that,” the old engine said coldly. “My feelings for other engines are a private matter. I don’t appreciate you making up stories like that about me.”
“B-but Edward, we-“
“That’s enough,” Edward interrupted. “Find your trucks and go back to the clay pits.”
“But-“
“GO,” he said firmly, and he wheeshed steam at them.
The twins were shocked. Edward had gotten cross with them before, but he’d never once wheeshed them. Bill and Ben looked down at their buffers and slowly backed away from the old blue engine. Edward watched like a hawk as they silently collected their trucks and headed back up the line as they were told. Once the pair were out of sight, he sighed and let off another cloud of steam in frustration, then went back to his own work.
As the twins rolled along the rails, Ben broke the silence.
“… Bill?”
“Yeah, Ben?”
“Do you remember the day we met BoCo, and we didn’t know what diesels were, so we thought he’d magicked our trucks away?”
“Yeah, I remember…”
“Do you think… do you think maybe he got magicked away?”
“At this point, that’s the only thing that would make sense...”
#my own writing#edward ttte#bill ttte#ben ttte#forgotten au#with a little edward x boco added in for extra angst points!#sorry if the formatting’s weird#ttte
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Endless Nights
Pairing: Benny Miller x gn!reader (no descriptions or pronouns)
Summary: You and Benny can't seem to get enough of each other's company. Could tonight be the night you find the courage to do something about that crush?
Words: 2,101
Warnings: Nudity but not the sexual kind, food/eating. Almost zero editing and a tired writer.
Notes: I don't always participate in Writer Wednesday, but when I do I take one look at the picture, get an idea and then go completely off the rails. Sorry. So the pic doesn't really have a lot to do with the rest of the fic but I hope that's okay. For this week's @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday, thanks for organizing it every week!
I had the idea for midnight shopping at the supermarket with Benny and then realized I didn't want the night to end there... So it didn't. I actually like this piece, even if it probably suffered a lot from my fast writing and non-existent editing. Reader is mentioned having shorter legs than Benny but other than that I think there are no descriptions or pronouns used of reader, lmk if I'm wrong.
MASTERLIST
You and Benny have been driving around aimlessly for a couple of hours already, taking turns in picking the music, and talking about this and that while sometimes falling into a companionable silence. It still amazes you how easy and comfortable everything is with him. You have never felt like this with a crush before, used to the feeling of always obsessing over what you felt like you could and couldn’t say or do, or spending a lot of time and energy into trying to figure out what the other thought.
No, with Benny you don’t have to pretend anything or force yourself to keep the conversation running in fear of those horrid awkward silences, because both of you know that you can talk for hours on end when the mood strikes. You met through mutual friends only a few weeks ago, but the connection was clearly there. As was the obvious mutual attraction.
Strictly speaking, though, you and Benny are just friends. Nothing has ever really happened to indicate otherwise in any case. But friends don’t usually try this hard to find any excuse just to hang out, nor do you stay up late every night talking to your other friends. And when you hang out in a group you always seem to gravitate towards one another. What’s more, somehow it always seems to be just the two of you left at the end of the night, often not even noticing the others leave.
Your interactions always border on the line of obvious flirting with your touches and already formed inside jokes, but neither of you ever dare do anything that couldn’t be brushed off as innocent behavior between friends. You guess you’re both just kind of scared to take the leap - you have been burned before, and so has he.
It’s not that you doubt your own feelings for Benny, or indeed his feelings for you. Even you have to admit that he does seem pretty interested in you, but you still wave away your friends’ squeals of “he’s totally in love with you!”, mainly not wanting to get your hopes up too much.
Because a small part of you still finds it a little hard to believe; someone so handsome and funny and kind wanting to be with you? What if he likes you, but just not as much as you like him? What if you were just a second choice for someone you really like until something better comes along - again? That scares you, both of you.
Tonight has been like many other nights lately; you had been to the movies with some of your friends, but after the movie ended you had been grasping at straws to come up with a way to continue the night so they (Benny) wouldn’t go home just yet. Benny had helpfully suggested just driving around and seeing if any ideas came to mind.
Santiago in turn had rolled his eyes at you two knowingly (making both you and Benny fluster and try to fake complete nonchalance) before saying good night and leaving with the others, who apparently didn’t feel the compulsive need to continue spending time together.
--------
The sun has gone down already but you two are still enjoying each other’s company too much to go home yet.
You end up in the 24/7 supermarket parking lot, craving a midnight snack. You are reminded of your teenage years, when you used to hang around different parking lots, popping into the store to buy a soda or a candy bar, spending all day outside with friends.
The only other customers doing their midnight shopping are tired people just off their shifts or young people staying up late just for the hell of it, much like you and Benny are, in fact. You wander around the huge store together, pointing out different products you’d like to try and reviewing stuff one of you already has tried.
Before long you realize that you have already spent almost forty minutes idly wandering around the supermarket, collecting new soda or chip flavors to test. Neither of you thought to grab a basket at the entrance, so your arms are starting to get a bit full.
“Benny, do you think this might be enough?” you ask while struggling to maintain your hold on the different bags of chips.
Benny looks back at you from where he is pondering over whether to get some ice cream. “Huh, I guess. I do still wanna get a sandwich, though!” he exclaims and promptly takes off in the direction of the deli counter where they sell sandwiches and salads left over from the day.
You try to keep up with his long strides, certain that you must look a bit comical half-running after a man with your hands full of treats. Oh, well. Benny often complains about how much focus it requires of him to “modify his steps” to fit your much shorter legs, and he always forgets about it when he gets excited.
When you catch up with him, he has already picked a sandwich for himself and one for you. “I got you salmon, that’s your favorite, right?”
“Yeah, thanks!” you say a little breathlessly after your speed-walk, taken that he remembers.
As you finally get to the cash register and start loading your stuff in your bag you see Benny sneak one more candy bar among the rest of your purchases. For someone in such good physical shape he sure does like his candy.
“Where to next?” Benny inquires as you get back to the car.
“Hmm, how about this one waterfront type swimming spot? It’s pretty secluded, has a pier, and there’s a nice view to the sea. I sometimes like to sit there on the cliffs to watch the sun go down,” you suggest, and offer him directions to the place.
It’s a short drive and you show Benny where to park his car. Even though it’s somewhere around 1 a.m. and the sun went down hours ago, the night is still light enough that you can easily see where you’re going and it doesn’t feel like you’re just sitting in the dark.
You settle down on the small pier with your sandwiches and sodas and chips and munch away happily.
Benny hands you the candy bar you saw him grab earlier at the cash register “for dessert”. It has a cheesy text on the packaging about giving this to someone special. He grins and shrugs, “I know you love these”.
It’s such a simple gesture but you can’t help feeling really flattered and even more smitten with him than you already were. You don’t read too much into the text on the packaging, but even the fact that he would buy you a candy bar he knows you love - just because - warms your heart.
(What you don’t know is that the candy bars have lots of different texts to choose from, and that Benny specifically picked “give this to someone special” instead of “give this to a friend”. There was also “give this to someone you love”, but Benny worried that might scare you off.)
--------
After you’re both done with snacking you try to think of what to do next, still reluctant to pronounce this night to be over, you get an idea.
“You know what I would really like to do right now?” you ask Benny, looking out over the water that looks so tempting. “Go swim,” you announce, turning to look at him.
“You don’t have a swimsuit with you, do you?” Benny asks, turning to look at you too.
“No… But there’s no one here,” you point out with your eyebrows raised in challenge.
Benny looks at you for a few beats with a blank expression on his face, before shrugging “Alright,” and throwing off his hoodie and t-shirt, jeans following next. “What are you waiting for?” he shouts over his shoulder as he jumps from the pier into the water.
You’re left sitting there with your mouth open, blinking rapidly as you try to catch up with the fast turn of events. Shaking your head, you stand up and shrug off your clothes before quickly running after Benny and getting into the refreshing water.
The night is still warm, and the water feels wonderful. You swim to catch up with Benny.
“You know, it’s pretty dark here but I’ve basically seen you naked now,” he remarks, waggling his eyebrows, and you snort with laughter.
“Benny, you’re not allowed to make me laugh in the water or I’ll drown,” you try to say sternly.
“Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t let you drown,” he answers in a surprisingly serious voice.
Suddenly the energy between you is full of.. something. Something new and buzzing, sort of scary but also exciting. Something you can’t quite explain. You’re swimming around each other, looking at each other intently, but not daring to say anything that would break the moment and burst the bubble.
Someone else does that for you.
A couple of teenage girls, you’d guess around 18 years old, stumble on to the pier and immediately notice you two in the water. The other girl lets out a shriek and tightens her hold on the towel around her, and before you can even try to reassure them that everything is fine, they run off giggling and shrieking some more. Evidently, they had had the same idea for a nighttime swim but found the place already occupied.
“Yeahhhh, maybe we should put some clothes on before someone calls the police,” Benny suggests dryly.
You two climb out of the water giggling and grinning broadly. You don’t have any towels with you since you didn’t exactly plan this impromptu skinny-dipping session, but Benny gives you his hoodie to help keep you warm.
Sitting back down next to Benny you’re even closer together now than earlier, ever so slowly inching closer and closer to each other. Both of you think you could pass it off as huddling for warmth if the other were to question it, but somehow you know that won’t be an issue.
Soon enough you’re snuggling together on the waterfront overlooking the sea. You stay quietly like that for some time, maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more. It’s hard to tell when the world is so still and quiet around you.
Suddenly you think that this is it, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. In all honesty you sort of enjoy the pining stage of new relationships, but right now you feel like you might burst if you keep these feelings inside you any longer.
You turn and burrow your head into the crook of his neck and decide that you will have to take the leap now. You start pressing gentle kisses on his neck and hear Benny’s breath hitch at the first contact of your lips on his skin. He goes still as a statue, but you can feel more than hear his unsteady breathing at your actions. You’re practically vibrating with nervous excitement as you work your way up to his jaw and towards his lips.
Taking one final deep breath you close your eyes, not daring to look at Benny in the eye right now, as you bring your lips to meet his.
The kiss is sweet and unhurried, and yet your head is swimming and your whole body is buzzing with it as you melt into each other. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, which just proves that everything really is different - better - with Benny. You pull away when you find yourself quickly out of breath just from feeling so much.
You finally dare to open your eyes to find Benny gazing at you with a dazed expression that surely mirrors your own and you slowly beam at each other, not feeling the need for words just now. Maybe you couldn’t even find them if you tried.
You settle back against his chest and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the night, sometimes spending long moments just kissing each other, sometimes talking quietly, sometimes just enjoying each other’s presence.
--------
Around five in the morning, when the sun is already getting up, you finally start to really feel the need for sleep. But this time it doesn’t feel wrong to leave and go home, since you’ll be going home together.
Later that day you wake up to a good morning, sweetheart in Benny’s arms where you fell asleep on his couch, tired but happier than you’ve ever felt in your life.
#benny miller fanfiction#benny miller x reader#benny miller x gn!reader#benny miller x you#triple frontier fanfiction#i still don't know what i'm doing#i accidentally wrote something#writer wednesday#garrett hedlund fanfiction
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past lives | 3
a/n: Ok this is like the pre-climax? is that a thing? no well I'm gonna make it a thing right now! time to meet more of the family!! enjoyyy <3
Fallon nudged your shoulder to get your attention. Previously your focus was on the champagne flute, and before that the odd waiter who served it to you with an old scar straight through his mouth.
“I brought you here to snatch and grab stuff, where’s the team spirit?” they ask.
You make a face, “You brought me here because you didn't wanna go alone. And I can’t blame you if I had to come here alone I would-”
“Definitely throw myself off the balcony. Running start.” a voice adds.
It was neither yours or Fallons. So the two of you turn around and find the culprit. And just like destiny or fate or something, you see the guy you handed off a letter from your dead parent a few days prior.
“I mean isn’t it kind of your party?” you ask.
Tim shrugs a bit and sips the drink in his hand. It’s a non verbal answer that gives something away. Maybe it’s in the
“If you think that, then think about me. I’m the plus one.” you say.
He chuckles, “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Same”
“Again?” Fallon asks.
You nod your head, “I had to drop something off at the Wayne building not too long ago. To Mr.Drake actually.”
“Oh it’s just Tim.” he says and holds out his hand.
You quickly take it and shake as instructed. Then Fallon follows the action, along with an introduction. Tim smiles and it looks like a genuine one.
“Well when I said we were gonna smooze I didn’t know you pre-planned.” they say.
You nudge them as they snicker.
“I’d probably be the wrong Wayne to smooze. My hectic schedule allows for no free time.” he answers.
Fallon laughs at this. “Oh, well you’re kinda on the younger side too.”
You can see Tim’s check taint red. His eyes dart away from the both of you. You still couldn’t believe that a young man like him was in charge of Wayne enterprises- or enterprise, however that worked out.
It probably felt like the world was on his shoulders.
The phone in your cocktail bag buzzed. Even though you didn’t know who it was, you had a very high suspicion that it was the league. What they wanted you to do at tonight’s event was still under wraps. But you knew that whatever task it was, wasn’t going to lead to a happy ending.
It never does.
You open your bag and take out your phone, “I’ve gotta handle this. My Aunt.”
Both Fallon and Tim nod as you walk away from your table and out into the balcony. It was a bit chippy outside so it wasn’t really of use to anyone. The rich don’t like the cold you guessed. Makes sense, heated floors and sidewalks.
The cold air reaches your skin. You don’t shiver. Growing up in Gotham until you were eighteen you hadn't gotten used to it. It was no Antartica but then again that Icicle man did like to rein terror sometimes. It was like practice.
You open the text and sure enough,
tonight you act as transport.
when you get handed a package deliver it here:
45 Gotham Harbor
Great. You were acting as a convoy tonight. It shouldn’t bother you that much, but it does. If whatever they were planning was something real and dangerous and they were keeping you low on the food chain, that mean you were expendable to them.
It hurt.
It wasn’t like you ran away from them. They gave you an opportunity to leave after a couple of years being one of their fastest rising recruits.. At first it felt like a sick test. Like one final trust fall before they could actually believe your unwavering loyalty.
You sat with the decision for days. It was a whole week before you decided to get out of the league. You thought that as soon as you stepped food out of the place they would kill you. But you walked out the front door and kept walking.
Oddly enough they had even given you a ride to Gotham.
But you being a convoy tonight? This felt like a test. One you needed to pass. If not for your life, then to find out what they were really planning. The league never takes care of things so out in the open like this.
“Did you just get dumped or something?” another random voice.
You turn off your phone and turn your head to the left. In the dark corner of the balcony is a guy. You can only make him out because of his lit cigarette. If it weren’t for that, you probably wouldn’t have made him.
Have your senses and training begun to fade? Ra’s is probably somewhere vibrating off the walls.
Sure enough he comes out of the dark and you can see him fully. He’s not in the night standard uniform. Instead he's in a dress shirt underneath a brown jacket. He did try with the black slacks you see.
Was he security? No he looked a bit familiar.
You think you should probably say something before he thinks rudely of you.
“No, just an interesting text.”
He hums some sort of sound. And then he walks a bit closer. You notice its not close enough to reach out and touch him. He’s really careful. He must be some type of security.
“You were talking to Tim, you one of those Gala Groupies?” he asks.
The shock that falls upon your face can't be helped. It instantly turns into sourness at the implication that you were a groupie. First off, Galas are boring. Second you’d more likely be a groupie for a rockstar than a rich old man- let alone a younger guy like Tim.
You hiss and cross your arms against your chest, “That was bit presumptive wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t mean it as an insult. Presumptive to think that I did.” he bites back.
You nod you head along with a grin.
“Didn’t know the security detail came with snobbery. How do I know you’re not a groupie for Tim?” you ask.
He looks like he wants to hurl. Then he beings to laugh. His laughter fills the balcony a bit and you just watch in interest. He calms himself and then places his hand over the railing to rest.
“I would not, it’d be weird.”
“Not your type?”
“My brother will never be my type.”
Ah.
You look at him for a second more and then it clicks. This was Jason Todd, the black sheep of the Wayne family, you are talking to. You thought he looked familiar you just couldn’t place him earlier. Even though the white streak through his hair should’ve gave it away.
“My apologies.” you say.
He fakes wiping a tear from his eye. “no worries, you gave me a laugh tonight. I should be thanking you.”
“I am not gonna be your groupie either.”
“Presumptive, but okay.”
“Have a good night.”
-
Bruce finds Tim in-between mingling and cuts in.
“Oh thank God, I thought for another second my head would burst.” Tim says.
Bruce smiles, “Saved you then.”
“Have you seen Dick anywhere? I wanted to get his eyes on a case of mine.”
“No night work at the Gala. Take a break.”
Bruce begins to look for Dick within the crowd of people. His eye bounce from person to person. Effectively he’s glanced over you without a second thought. Or so he thinks.
When he does finally find Dick, he calls for him. This makes his son stop in his tracks. He comes to a stop and you were right behind him as he did. You aren’t quick enough to stop yourself and so you go colliding into his back.
-
“So sorry about that.” he says.
You shake your head, “It’s fine. No drinks spilled or whatever they say.”
He throws out a laugh so easily. You smile quickly and make a B-line for Fallon. As you make your way to where they have taken new residence, you see their face change. More specifically their eyebrows go up in the way that says ‘oh?’
“Cut it out, he bumped into me.”
“Maybe you guys can do some more bumping. Later on, if you-”
“I know exactly what you mean and I’m not entertaining you.”
-
Dick makes it over to his father and his brother. When he does Tim claps his back with his hand. It makes Dick wonder where the time went.
“Nice to see you brother.” Tim says.
“You too. Bruce.”
Bruce just nods. A man of not many words for those closest to him. He sure did know how to entertain guests though. It was all a mask anyways. If anything he was doing them a service not using it with them.
“I almost ran into someone. Thankfully there was no drinks involved, I would’ve ruined a whole outfit.” Dick says, pointing back to you.
Tim follows his finger over to where you and Fallon are standing.
“Oh, that’s who delivered me that letter the other day. Speaking of which, there was another one addressed to you Bruce.” he says.
Bruce nods his head once, “I know I saw it the other night when you passed out on your desk. At some point we’re gonna have a conversation about your sleeping habits.”
Jason walks up to the three men.
“You’ll never correct it. He’s more of a bat than you.” he says.
Bruce is doing double the work. He’s listening to the conversation happening in front of him about Tim’s horrible sleeping schedule or lack thereof. While he looks over at you. The person Tim said delivered the letter.
His child.
#dc#batman#Dick Grayson x reader#Tim Drake x reader#Jason Todd x reader#batman x reader#Bruce Wayne x reader#dc x reader#PAST LIVES#redhood x reader
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Misread Details: Robert
CW: Dehumanizing language, BBU blanket warning, serial killer/death talk, descriptions of death/abduction/murder, blood, whumper death, some real vague implied noncon references, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper
Part One: Nanda | Part Two: Brute | Part Three: Robert
The Dark Discovery in Robert Weber’s Basement: Box Boy Killer, Part 3
r/LetsTalkTrueCrime
•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee
3 days ago
After Part One, where we learned about the mysterious, but possibly entirely natural, death of Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson, and Part Two, where we saw Henry “Brute” Hanlon’s double life lead to his untimely gruesome murder, you see the single thread that connects these two men who otherwise never met, interacted, or even shared a single person in common… a nameless Box Boy, present at the death of Nanda even if he isn’t responsible for it, and the proven killer of Brute.
It’s my theory that this Box Boy may have accidentally killed his legal owner, Nanda, and then picked up a taste for the act and moved on to taking shelter with those he turns into his victims.
With Brute, he simply didn’t know the man had a wife and children and entire other life, and may have assumed no one would come looking for him or recognize his death. With our third individual, Robert Weber, it seems like our Box Boy Serial Killer got in over his head.
I give you… the Accidental Vigilante death of Robert Weber.
You decide if our unknown killer is simply the unluckiest guy in the world or a killer who even now may be somewhere living with - and earning the trust of - his next victim.
-
One bright and sunny day in the quaint, old-fashioned California town of Rancher’s Rest, Robert Weber was late for work.
Weber worked in a vehicle repair business owned by lifelong “RR” resident Randy Niles, who had known Weber since his childhood and had been his boss since Weber was eighteen years old and fresh out of high school.
Niles, who is now nearly seventy-five and still spends his days in the shop with an Australian Shepherd named Cody and a blind pit bull named Sue keeping him company everywhere he goes, stated that Weber had no living family he knew of beyond his sister in Vermont, and he was just about the closest thing Weber had to a relative just from having known him so long.
“He didn’t have too much to do with his sister,” Randy said in an interview with Unsolved Mysteries. (You can see the interview on the new Netflix reboot of the show! It’s a really good episode, definitely recommend. It’s how I got into this case in the first place.) “Or nobody, really. Just us at work, the guys at the bar, that kinda thing. He was quiet, kept to himself really. You’d never just strike up a chat around town or anything. But he got on just fine with the boys here in the shop. He was a bit of an egghead, too, always going on about this thing or that he’d seen on the news. Little… odd. Little bit off, you might say. But really, who isn’t? In any case, you know, I’d known him since he was a little boy, so he was just Bobby Weber to me.”
Then, of course, one day Robert Weber didn’t show up to work. Randy Niles immediately felt that something was very wrong.
“When nine, nine-thirty came and went and he wasn’t there,” Niles said, “I knew someone needed to go check on him. Bobby showed up for work right on time or ten minutes early, rain or shine, for twenty years. My first thought was maybe he’d had an accident at home, or some kind of, you know, health thing. Almost never called in sick, took one vacation a year, that kinda thing. So I drove right on over there. This would’ve been, oh, probably ten or ten-fifteen when I got to the house. Had my dogs with me, and they never did like Bobby much, but as soon as I opened my door and got out of my truck they just lost their damn minds. Barking, growling, Cody’s hackles were up like you wouldn’t believe. I know it sounds damn crazy, but I’m sure those dogs could smell that evil had been done in that house.”
On camera, Niles goes quiet, here, his gaze slipping away from the interviewer as he scratches at the side of his nose. When he looks back, the hint of good humor that seems to be an eternal part of his expression is gone.
“I didn’t know what Bobby had been up to all this time. None of us knew. I’ve known Bobby Weber his whole life, and I… I had no idea.”
Randy Niles was unable to convince his two dogs to exit the truck, and eventually rolled down the windows to give them some air and a way out if they chose (he is insistent on this point in the Unsolved Mysteries episode - “don’t you dare say I left my dogs locked up in a truck on a sunny day, I sure didn’t - Cody even knows how to pull a door handle if it’s the right kind”) and got out to knock on Robert Weber’s front door.
No one answered.
Niles knocked again. Still no response.
The front door was locked, but Niles was able to locate an unlocked back door into the garage, where he found Weber’s car neatly parked and nothing out of place. However, once he used an interior door in the garage to enter Weber’s home, what he found was so shocking he still struggles to describe it today.
“The, uh. The first thing I saw,” Niles says in the Unsolved Mysteries episode, wiping at his mouth with a handkerchief, “was a cage. Big old cage in the living room. Like a kennel for a big dog, Great Dane or something, except… except, you know, kennels’re usually mostly wire, not that heavy. You can fold ‘em up, put ‘em away. This was… geez. This was pure metal. Bunch of blankets all piled at the bottom, too. Here’s the-... you know, my mind just didn’t want to even make the thought, but I just, I looked at it and-”
In the episode, Niles has to take another moment, here. His eyes grow wet, and his voice is hoarse when he speaks again. “People cage. Bobby had a damn man-sized cage in his living room. That’s when my stomach just fell out. Even then, though, I couldn’t-... I just thought, oh, well, what people get up to in their own homes is their business. But still, I just. I just decided, find Bobby, figure the rest out later. So I kept walking around looking for him.”
Randy Niles continued to call out, hoping to hear Weber’s response, but received none… at first. The radio in the kitchen was playing a local public radio station (“Bobby always hated the country western and classic rock we played at work, he was a big news man, big into classical, jazz, you know.”)
Niles noticed, he says, that the cage next to the couch had a wooden top, as though it were meant to act as a side table, and on that table was a small woven basket. Inside the basket appeared to be several State IDs and Driver’s licenses. Niles took note of this but his first assumption was maybe that Robert Weber had stolen some IDs or something.
Which was technically true, just… not quite the way he thought.
The kitchen, hallway, and all three bedrooms were equally empty of life. Every room was clean, everything neatly in place. Empty bottles of Jameson whiskey, Weber’s favorite brand, were lined up like décor along the mantel, and one half-full bottle was next to two clean, empty glasses on the kitchen table.
Even the beds were perfectly made.
The only thing missing was any sign of Robert Weber himself.
The question of Weber’s whereabouts was answered when Randy Niles heard a sound coming from the open door to Weber’s unfinished dirt basement.
“Like a ghost,” Niles said in his interview. “Just this low moaning sound. Hardly even thought of it as human, you know. But I just-... I called out, ‘Bobby? That you?’ and the moaning got a little louder, like whoever it was was tryin’ to answer. I could still hear my girls in the truck just going nuts, probably worried about me knowing what they maybe could smell even out there. I figured… I figured I’d best call the cops and get them out here. Seemed like a plan. So I picked up my phone and dialed, and then I headed down those basement steps.”
What Randy Niles discovered in Robert Weber’s basement was a dying man, battered and stabbed eight times, lying in a half-dug grave.
Robert Weber had been beaten with the very shovel that had done the digging. The shovel lay off to the side, caked in dirt and blood. Police would find some of Robert Weber’s hair on it, too. Then, the individual who had beaten him had gone back upstairs - blood smears were found on the railing to the stairs - and taken a kitchen knife out of the knife block on the countertop. A bloody fingerprint was found on the side of the knife block. They had then returned to the basement where Weber was stabbed, almost entirely through the stomach and chest, twenty-six times, until the cheap knife simply broke from the force.
Randy Niles admitted in his interview that he became very ill at this time. “From the shock,” He elaborated. “I haven’t been able to smell much since I was in a car wreck when I was young, so I didn’t smell what-... what my girls prob’ly smelled from outside, and what the cops smelled. To me, it was just… just a little off, is all. It was the sight of it that got to me, not the smell. The sight of the-... the hand.”
Behind Robert Weber’s body, the hand of another person was sticking up out of the loose dirt, as though someone was trying to dig their way out.
“I remember… I remember her nail polish was pink. That’s when I got sick, actually, was when I saw that hand with the painted nails. That’s when it just hit me all at once what Bobby had done.”
Randy Niles went back up the stairs and waited for the cops to arrive. Rancher’s Rest is a small town where everybody knows just about everybody else, and Niles was on a first-name basis with every single police officer he spoke to that day and in the days after. He would learn alongside the investigation that Robert Weber was not simply the quiet, intellectual car mechanic he had always seemed.
Instead, Robert Weber was a serial killer whose potential final victim had managed a miraculous, deadly escape.
Robert Weber never answered a single question about his own murder - he never fully regained consciousness and died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. His injuries were simply too severe. His autopsy showed that the cause of death was a stab wound that went deep into his chest and that he was first stabbed only after the beating with the shovel had taken place. Like Brute, most of his stab wounds were applied post-mortem in a rage rather than as part of the killing itself.
Medical examiners also found scratches on Weber’s face and arms, indicating that he had attempted to defend himself - or someone else had attempted to defend themself from him.
So why was Robert Weber killed, and why was there already a body in his basement? Investigators would piece together the story over the following days and weeks from a crime scene that only seemed to become darker and more baffling as time went on.
Excavating the basement was originally thought to be something that would be brief, but after the first body was removed, another one was found beneath it. Then another off to the side of that. And another, although this was simply bones.
Every time the forensics team thought they’d found the last human bone, they dug a little deeper or in a new spot and found more.
Eventually, the remains of twenty-two individuals would be removed from the basement of Robert Weber’s home, not including Weber himself. The oldest located victim was identified as Melinda Traxson, an Iowa woman reported missing by her family after she ran away in March of 1996… more than two decades before Robert Weber didn’t come to work one day.
Investigators are still working to match up every body with a missing persons’ case. For nearly all of them, the cause of death could not be easily ascertained due to the deterioration of the remains, but some showed signs of skull fractures. Identified individuals so far include:
Melinda Traxson, 19, from Iowa, ran away from home in 1996.
Billie Mortimer, 21, disappeared from a day out with friends at Lake Tahoe one year later in the summer of 1997. Her friends went to get lunch from the car after a swim and when they returned, she was gone.
Matthew Ranger, 22, went missing during a road trip to Yellowstone National Park in 1997 (only five months after Billie). His car was found abandoned by the side of the road with a flat tire.
Karl Janssen, 24, a tourist from the Netherlands who was also visiting Yellowstone, disappeared a month after Matthew. Last seen by an employee of the park who witnessed him speaking with another young man and getting into the man’s car. The employee said that the two seemed to be friendly with one another and did not seem like strangers.
Hannah Pointer, 26. She was reported missing in 1999 by her mother after failing to return home from work in Reno, Nevada. This disappearance occurred more than a year after Karl Janssen’s. Investigators would later discover that during this time period, Robert Weber dated a young woman from his hometown and he may not have wanted to risk her finding out what he was doing.
Isaac Jackson, 26, a Rancher’s Rest resident who disappeared after going out to a local bar to see his friend’s band play in 2000. His car was found submerged in a small pond two years later. This is the first time Weber apparently killed anyone close to home. He was actually briefly suspected in Jackson’s death, as he was the last person noted to see Jackson alive, but was cleared of suspicion at the time.
Dustin Swill, 21, who was driving from Colorado to California to visit his sister who had moved to Berras to work for WRU in 2001. He was last seen in a gas station near Yellowstone, where employees noted he spoke to a man who was smoking outside, who gave him a cigarette. When Swill left, employees saw the man put out his cigarette and leave shortly after. They did not find this unusual or noteworthy at the time.
Maria Vargas, 25, a Rancher’s Rest resident who was reported missing in 2002. Her family is intensely private and have shared few details about her, but it is known that her boyfriend at the time suspected Weber, who had attempted to convince her to leave the boyfriend for him and had apparently threatened her. He remained a suspect but there was never enough evidence to charge him.
Jennifer Striker, 28, from who never arrived for an appointment with a realtor in 2011. The long pause between Maria Vargas’s murder and Jennifer’s appeared to be due to Weber keeping a man named Finn Schneider within his home for more than a year after abducting him, as well as Weber serving five years in prison for a violent assault on a man he believed had sold him a defective vehicle. (Schneider was no longer in the home before the assault and prison time.)
Riley Nievelt, 25, was staying at the Big Meadow Campground with six friends during a weeklong vacation in 2012. She vanished while on a trip to purchase supplies. Her cell phone was found on the ground in the parking lot of the Food Lion in Rancher’s Rest, a short and easy drive away. At this time, with multiple individuals vanishing after being seen in Rancher’s Rest or being residents of the town, police begin to suspect and start hunting for a possible serial killer.
Alexander Peterson, 29, was a long-haul driver who vanished while working. He was last seen at a rest stop in 2014 on the California/Nevada state line, and would likely have passed right through Rancher’s Rest on his journey. He was reported missing by his ex-wife in South Dakota when he did not return as scheduled for a custodial visit.
The most recent victim, and owner of the hand that Randy Niles saw sticking up out of the dirt, was Yolanda Pierce, 26. She was a Rancher’s Rest resident with a troubled relationship with her husband, who had stormed out after an argument and was never seen again. She is believed to have died the same day as Robert Weber.
More remains exist but have not yet been identified. If you or anyone you know has a friend or family member who went missing during this time period in or near Rancher’s Rest, Yellowstone National Park, or Death Valley, it may be worth looking into, as those appear to be Robert Weber’s “hunting grounds”.
Disappearances in Yellowstone and Death Valley almost always matched up with Robert taking one of his rare weeklong vacations from work.
When investigators located three large diaries hidden inside a locked box in Weber’s closet, the first two fully filled up and the third nearly two-thirds finished, they found an exhaustively detailed record of Robert Weber’s crimes.
In these records, they discovered Weber’s first three victims were killed within 24 hours of abduction, with the rest being kept alive for longer and longer time periods. It is believed all of them met their end in Robert Weber’s basement.
Diary entries included records of two victims who were not a part of the bodies buried in Weber’s basement, both of whom may still be alive:
Finn Schneider, 19, a German tourist who disappeared in 2003 during a visit to Death Valley. Until Weber’s journals were found, it was believed he had perished in the park and had simply never been found. Robert Weber also visited Death Valley during this time. No one linked the two together. Evidence found in Weber’s home after his death, including the aforementioned diary entries and photographs, shows that Schneider was alive in Weber’s home for nearly sixteen months. It is believed Weber purchased the “human cage” that Randy Niles noticed around this time. The last diary entry that mentions Schneider states that he was “traded” on June 16th, 2005, to an individual only referred to as “Mouse.” What Weber received in exchange is unclear, but he was seen driving a new, custom-painted truck around this time, which he said he bought “from a personal ad” when asked by Niles about it. Schneider has never been found. However, his mother did receive a phone call in 2013 from an individual she believes to be her son, telling her that “Finn” was okay and to stop looking for him.
Our Box Boy, 334235, purchased by Nathaniel Benson years prior, whose whereabouts had been unknown since he murdered Brute Hanlon. Weber believed the Box Boy to be in his early twenties, according to his diary entries, and mentioned that he had picked the Boxie up hitchhiking and had intended to kill him before seeing the barcode on the inside of his left wrist and changing his mind. His diary suggests the Box Boy remained in his possession for roughly a fourteen months prior to Weber’s murder. Police have not released the details of what the Boxie was subjected to during this time, stating only that it is not the public’s interest for this information to be known, and they would like to locate the missing Boxie and interview him about certain details.
Four murders occurred during the time the Boxie was kept by Robert Weber. Weber noted that “the dog helped” with either murder or burial, suggesting that he may have worked as Weber’s accomplice in his terrible crimes.
Is it possible that they bonded over a shared urge to kill? Did the Boxie start a captive and become a companion?
Weber’s diary contained other disturbing facts, as well:
Weber also noted three failed abduction attempts in detail, in 1998, 2004, and 2017. In each he described with incredible precision of memory the appearances and descriptions of each person he failed to capture. He also appeared to do intensive research using their license plates and other information to find out where they lived and who they were. The names of these individuals have been kept quiet for privacy reasons.
Other failed abductions were noted, about one per year, without much detail. Or at least not enough for police officers to know who they were. Nearly all these failures were in one of three locations: Yellowstone National Park, Stanislaus National Forest and nearby campgrounds, and in or near Death Valley.
The last entry in Robert Weber’s diary was penned the day of his death.
NOTE: Weber referred to the Boxie as “the dog” in nearly all his journal entries. His last entry went:
May 6th, 20XX: The dog is pissed about something again. He’s always pissed about something. I think the thing in the basement probably kept him up all night with her caterwauling. He never gets used to the noises they make. God knows I can’t sleep either, at least not well. I’ll handle her tonight, have a drink with the dog after, see if that shuts up his nonsense for a while. Note: missed NPR interview with Senator Carlotta Grant on new leg. about the bb prohibition act. Find that on website later.
Found in Weber’s home, in boxes under his bed, were a series of restraints made of leather, high-quality items that appear to be custom-ordered to specific measurements. These included “gloves” intended to keep someone from being able to claw or scratch in their own defense, five sets of cuffs, a body harness, a leather half-face-mask that police referred to as a “muzzle”, several gags, some of which were deemed to be “designed to cause injury to the inside of the mouth”, and “other assorted items for use in torture and torment”.
You can find some leaked police docs online that go into more detail, but suffice to say they pretty much match the kinds of “toys” found in Nathaniel Benson and Brute Hanlon’s homes, too. And apparently, if you really know where to look, you can find some blurry low-quality photos Weber took, too.
While the items are a bit salacious, they aren’t entirely uncommon in consensual relationships, too, so it’s really not clear if they’re evidence of the Boxie being held against his will or not.
The investigation of the crime scene suggests that at some point after writing his final diary entry, Robert Weber made himself a pizza, which he ate half of and put the rest away in the fridge. His shaving cream and razor were found out on his sink, and Weber’s body was clean-shaven, suggesting he shaved shortly before his death.
He then watched three episodes of Law & Order: SVU. We know this because he texted during this time with his only living relative, the sister in Vermont. Little is known about Weber’s family and childhood, beyond his sister’s recounting of a quiet, strained home life with an overbearing mother and her mention that Robert endured several head injuries as a child and adolescent, including one that hospitalized him for days.
After he finished watching TV, Weber entered the basement and murdered Yolanda Pierce. It is believed he took the Box Boy downstairs with him, either as accomplice or witness. At some point while he was disposing of Yolanda Pierce’s remains, the Boxie became enraged for one reason or another, beat him with a shovel, got the kitchen knife from upstairs and stabbed him to death, and then left the house.
A neighbor remembers hearing odd noises around 3:30 AM and looking out their window to see a shadowy figure walking quickly down the road, but they weren’t able to see well enough to say whether or not the individual matches the description and WRU-provided photos of the Boxie. It does seem reasonable, though, to assume that the neighbor witnessed the Boxie fleeing the scene of the crime.
The Box Boy has never been seen again.
Police are pretty mum about the active investigation into the Box Boy’s whereabouts. I was able to get ahold of one source closely related to a member of the investigative team who said that there’s just not a lot of urgency. “Weber killed nearly two dozen people, just that we know of,” The source said. “The cops are a little bit ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ about the situation. Unless the Boxie comes back to RR, they’re just inclined to let sleeping dogs lie.”
The sense of “let it be someone else’s problem” would be understandable… if this Box Boy weren’t responsible for one other direct murder, possibly two.
Police believe the Boxie has not left California, and is likely to be continuing to survive by engaging in prostitution or perhaps panhandling or some other hidden way of making money. Unconfirmed sightings have been located in three cities in central California, but all of these are unverified and should be taken with a grain of salt.
It’s also possible he hooked up with a pet liberation movement group, in which case he may be hiding out in a safehouse, protected from the consequences of his actions by the pet lib movement’s understandable insistence on total secrecy and anonymity for the Boxies they take in.
If he’s an innocent victim of circumstance, that’s fair.
If he’s a burgeoning serial killer with three victims under his belt and a taste for inflicting terrible violence on those who take him in… well… anyone who gives him shelter may be next.
Is our Boxie a purposeful killer or just supremely, almost incomprehensibly unlucky? Will he kill again? Was he Robert Weber’s accomplice or his victim?
Will he strike again?
Should there be an audit of WRU’s psychological testing on potential sign-ups to see if, perhaps, a Box Boy-wannabe with an urge to kill slipped through the cracks?
What do you think?
-
@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary
#whump#jameson bb#bbu#box boy universe#box boy#epistolary#epistolary fiction#epistolary writing#sadistic whumper#death talk tw#dead body tw#serial killer mention#description of dead body#implied noncon references#pet whump tw#dehumanization tw#dehumanizing language tw#creepy whumper#horror fiction#horror writing#horror#whumper death#god I want to write about Finn Schneider now#and what he's up to#he is absolutely still alive#whumpblr#whump writing#writeblr#original fiction#true crime fiction
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A Favor: Part Thirteen
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: merry christmas
***
Nesta and Cassian agree to take separate cars to Velaris— not because they’re so afraid of being discovered together that they’ll risk global warming, but because Nesta has a preceding event and tells Cassian not to wait up for her.
After a rushed Secret Santa with the boys at Emerie’s apartment, Nesta drops by Gwyn’s place and leaves a small parcel at the doorstep. She doesn’t have time to knock and make conversation, but the gift is the least she can do after Gwyn surprised her the other day with a copy of a highly anticipated romance book weeks ahead of its official release.
“The library got early copies and I borrowed this one for you,” she said out of nowhere one afternoon, handing her the book. Nesta blinked in shock, not realizing that she and Gwyn were close enough for such acts of kindness. Even if their conversations felt like they’d been friends for much longer, they’d only known each other for a couple of weeks. It was then that she realized that’s just how Gwyn is. She does nice things because she can, not because social bonds or etiquette compels her to.
Guilt isn’t something Nesta feels often, but she was ravaged by it when she thought of not repaying Gwyn’s kindness. She couldn’t bear the idea of imbalances or debts being created in her relationships with her new friends, and spent the last two days searching everywhere for a decent gift to make up for it. She’ll have to text to make sure Gwyn got her present later tonight.
After a two hour drive (she might have taken detours to stall), Nesta is in the hallway leading to Feyre and Rhysand’s penthouse apartment. The door is cracked open enough that laughter and music float out to where she stands, and her fingers tighten on the bag carrying her sisters’ gifts. She checks her makeup in the hall mirror one final time, assuring that not a smidge of her perfect armor is out of place.
An in-and-out operation, she tells herself, flicking a lock of hair away from her face. She’s prepared for this.
Walking up to the half-open door, she’s struck down by the decision of whether to knock before going in or not. Luckily, the choice is taken away from her when the door swings open on its own, and Feyre is on the other side.
“Nesta,” her sister says in surprise, in a good or bad way Nesta doesn’t know.
Nesta blinks. “Did you know I was here?” She gestures to the door.
“Oh, no...” Feyre pokes her head past Nesta into the hallway. “Actually, I was checking to see if the pizza guy was here yet,” —she looks back at Nesta— “but this is even better!”
The slight strain in her voice makes Nesta think otherwise.
She doesn’t play along with the game. She doesn’t even comment on how they’re having pizza on Christmas Eve. Feyre adds after a moment, genuinely this time, “You look beautiful, by the way.”
Nesta glances down at her dress, a skintight ruched piece that shows more chest than usual, and then back up at Feyre’s designer jumpsuit. “So do you,” she says, her voice more flat than she’d prefer it. But she means it. “Can I come in?” she gestures inside, hoping to put an end to this conversation and her nerves.
“Right, duh,” Feyre laughs, grabbing Nesta’s gift bag and waving her inside. “Elain’s in the kitchen if you want to see her. Grab a drink and make yourself comfortable.”
Nesta steps past the door cautiously, eyeing the penthouse as if it’s her first time here. The winding iron-railed staircase is to the right, leading up to the second floor which holds all the bedrooms. The living area sprawls to her left, and through a wood-paneled threshold across from her is the dining room and kitchen. If anything is different from the last time she visited, it’s that the place is now considerably more lived in: pictures, hand-picked art, and other signs of life and love decorate every inch of the apartment, to the point where it makes Nesta feel like a home invader.
She’s so busy absorbing this place she doesn’t belong in that it takes her a moment to realize the room has fallen silent.
She turns to the living area, and her eyes land on Cassian first. He went so far as to put on a suit for tonight, and he’s watching her with a stunned quietness that makes her proud of her own outfit choice.
Nesta knows there are other people in the room, but she really can’t bring herself to care. Her hands twitch at her sides, instinctively reaching for him—
“Look who finally decided to show up,” a smug voice drawls.
Nesta looks away from Cassian to find that just about everybody else is staring at her, too. The voice who spoke up is that tiny woman named Amren, and she’s watching Nesta now with a sharp glint in her gray eyes.
Slick discomfort coats Nesta’s insides at Amren’s tone, and she lets her hands fall behind her back so they can’t reveal her anxiety. “Merry Christmas, everyone,” are the first words out of her mouth.
“’Sup, Nesta,” Cassian is the only one that bothers to respond. His tone holds none of the closeness or intimacy it usually does— it’s been replaced with a removed, almost strained friendliness instead.
Remembering that seeking him out for comfort is not an option tonight, she tries to find somewhere else to look.
In the span of a second, she spies Mor’s curiosity, Rhysand’s vague distaste, and Varian’s hesitance, before finally settling on Azriel’s bland look of disinterest. His phone dangles lazily from his hand, and he looks about two seconds away from going back to it and ignoring her completely.
It’s his detachment that grounds Nesta enough to remember her words. “I’m going to…” she gestures vaguely toward the kitchen, “get some food.”
“I can help—” Feyre starts.
“No, thank you,” Nesta quips, then hightails it out of there. The conversation, along with Nesta’s heartbeat, restarts as soon as she’s out of the room.
Following the short hallway connecting the dining space to the huge kitchen, she freezes when she finds Elain standing before the dual range oven, staring intently down at her phone. She curses herself silently— how did she forget her other sister would be waiting here right after being told so?
Elain’s head snaps up at the sound of Nesta’s heels on the tile, looking flustered. She quickly tucks her phone into the pocket of her apron before she realizes who she’s looking at, and a wide smile overtakes her beautiful face. “Is that really you?” Elain marvels in her lilting southern accent.
The words hit Nesta bluntly for some inexplicable reason. She shakes it off with a blink and smiles back, far more subdued than Elain but still genuine. “Lain,” she greets kindly, like they’re two old friends picking up right where they left off.
It’s Nesta’s fault that things are like this, she knows. She hasn’t bothered holding a real conversation with her closest sister in months, and now she’s in the same room as her hoping she won’t have to face Elain’s disappointment for her distance.
“Oh, get over here, how’ve you been?” Elain crosses the sleek kitchen and waves her into a hug. Nesta awkwardly pats her back, and is held even tighter when she tries pulling away.
She only manages to detach from Elain when Elain’s apron pocket vibrates. Stepping back, she takes her phone out and silences it before tucking it away once more. “So,” she grins when her focus returns to Nesta, “how’s the lone wolf life treating you? Isn’t it great to be back at your old apartment?”
“It’s good. I’m doing good,” she nods along. Nesta hates small talk more than anything, but this is the least she owes Elain. And the least she owes herself, if she’s being honest. Even if she knows she will never truly be fit for a life of socialization.
She takes things a step further and nods to the oven, asking, “What are you cooking up?”
She knows she’s done something right when Elain’s dark eyes light up, and she starts rattling off the three-course menu she’s prepared for tonight. (“What about the pizza on the way?” Nesta asks. Elain’s face darkens. “Don’t get me started. Some of the people in that living room have the taste palate of five year olds.”)
Nesta takes a seat at the island and falls into the age-old rhythm of listening to her sister talk, her heart feeling bruised and soothed at the same time. How similar and different they are now from the people they were ten years ago. Nesta doesn’t know if this is a good thing or not.
***
“That’s the thirtieth time you’ve checked your phone since Mor started telling her dolphin story,” Cassian mutters to Azriel sitting next to him on the couch.
Az clicks his phone off and turns it facedown so Cassian can’t see the screen, his face remaining blank the entire time. “I can’t help it if I’ve heard the dolphin story a hundred times already.”
“You’ve been staring at that thing the entire night,” Cassian calls him out. “Anyone on there more interesting than us, dear brother?”
Az snorts, not bothering to look at him. “Like you’re one to talk.” He reaches for his glass of liquor on the side table.
Cassian frowns as the chatter drowns out his murmur. “What do you mean?”
Azriel takes a sip from his drink, not replying. “When do you plan on letting us back at your cabin?” he says instead.
Cassian snorts. “It’s not like I’ve been keeping you away from it.”
“You turned Rhys and me down every time we made plans about coming over.”
“Because Nesta was staying there.” He is very, very careful about the way he says her name. Even talking about her is walking a thin line.
“She moved out a while ago, though,” Azriel continues. He leans back into the couch. “Speaking of Nesta, I don’t remember her being that hot. Did you see her in that little dress tonight?”
Cassian tenses, dull anger sliding over his bones and under his skin. “We all fucking saw her,” he says tightly.
Az clicks his tongue. “Damn. A woman like that shouldn’t be wasted in a small town.” His eyes slide over to Cassian’s with a dark glint of amusement. “You mind sharing?”
In that moment, Cassian is presented with the option of punching Azriel in the face. Hard. It’s only due to a divine miracle that he doesn’t.
Even with his temper, Cassian knows when he’s being played with. “How did you know.” His voice is flat, cold.
“You have ‘Nesta’s bitch’ written all over your face.”
Goddammit. Cassian clenches his teeth, saying nothing. Can everyone see it, or only his closest brother? How long has he known?
“I had my suspicions,” Az says simply, “when you ran out of Thanksgiving dinner like your ass was on fire after she sent you that thirst trap.”
Cassian blinks. Of course; the bastard peeked at his phone the last time they were together. No reason other than that.
“It wasn’t a thirst trap,” he grits, on high defense now. “It was a perfectly appropriate photo that you never should have seen.”
Az’s lips twitch upward. “Could’ve fooled me with the way you reacted to it.”
This— this is exactly why he doesn’t want anybody to know about him and Nesta. Because even though a weight has been lifted off his chest with Azriel knowing, an even heavier weight has started to sink in his stomach.
For months, Nesta has been his alone. And the idea of opening their relationship up to others’ opinions and judgements...
“Cass?”
He breaks his death glare at Azriel to find Feyre standing over the couch. He blinks; when did she cross the room? “Yeah?”
“You okay?” She glances between him and Azriel, clear-cut concern in her eyes. “You’ve been a little out of it tonight.” These last several weeks, actually, he knows she’s thinking.
He pulls his best Nesta face, all emotion carefully hidden behind a wall so blank it’s almost dead. “I’m doing fine,” he says simply. “Don’t worry about me; worry about Rhys spending all of your money on cards tonight.”
When Feyre still looks hesitant, Cassian summons his signature smile, the one that puts everyone and their babies at ease. He knows he’s succeeded when Feyre’s shoulders sink and she smiles back, nudging him in the arm. “Alright,” she says begrudgingly. “Just don’t keep pulling that long face. It’s Christmas Eve.”
***
Nesta is still hiding out in the kitchen while Elain finishes up a roast chicken when Feyre wanders in, eager to play the doting host.
Nesta pauses in the middle of telling Elain what she got earlier today for Secret Santa, waiting for Feyre to interrupt or insert her opinion, but Feyre only leans against the kitchen entrance and waits for her to go on.
“... So I thought it was hideous, but she insisted I keep it,” Nesta finishes cautiously.
“Who insisted you keep what?” Feyre speaks up.
“My friend Emerie got me a Christmas sweater.” Nesta waves a hand. “It looks like it came out of the recycling bin of a thrift shop, but I think she legitimately expects me to wear it tomorrow.” She huffs a lighthearted laugh, remembering how she and Emerie had cackled over the tacky gift together.
She finds she doesn’t mind talking about Emerie to her sisters. Rather, it’s something that brings her pride, like how she imagines new parents talk about their babies.
“Ain’t that amazing?” Elain speaks from where she arranges the chicken onto a platter, her back turned to both sisters. “While we were worried this whole time about Nesta being holed up in her room, she’s been going out and making friends.” Her voice is tight with a forced cheerfulness that only their mother could have taught her. Nesta stiffens in her seat at the island.
“Oh,” Feyre says shortly, blinking. “I see.”
The easiness Nesta had from talking about her friends slips away, being replaced with her usual mask of steel and ice. “See what?”
“Nothing,” Feyre defends, moving to lean against the island across from her. “We barely ever speak anymore, Nesta. How are we supposed to know what goes on in your life these days?”
“Well, I’m telling you now,” Nesta says coldly.
“She’s also in therapy.” Elain still hasn’t turned around from the stove. “How exciting.”
Nesta whips her head toward Elain in disbelief at the information spilled. So she is angry at Nesta for avoiding her calls.
“Therapy?” Feyre looks taken aback. “For what?”
Elain swoops in before Nesta can choose between scoffing or rolling her eyes at Feyre’s question. “Who cares what it’s for?” She finally turns around, bracing her hands on the counter. “Does it even matter?”
Nesta tastes venom on her tongue, and it wants to be spit in her sisters’ direction. “If you have something you want to say, Elain, say it. The passive-aggressive act makes you look like a fake bitch.”
Elain flinches, and Feyre looks away to hide her tired disappointment. “We still can’t have a single conversation without you going from zero to a hundred, I see.”
You haven’t even seen a hundred yet. “Tell me,” Nesta demands. “What did I do to mortally wound you this time? Is it the fact that I have a life away from your incestuous circle, or am I missing something else?”
Feyre scoffs incredulously, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s the fact, Nesta, that you have it in yourself to be good to everyone except for your sisters! When it was just me you hated, I could accept it fine, but then you left Tennessee and shut Elain out, too. With no explanation.” Hurt dances across her face. “It’s been years and it’s only gotten worse. And after months of near silence you show up here like—like you would rather be part of any family except ours.”
She keeps saying we, like her and Elain’s feelings are one and the same. Like they’ve talked about this before.
Nesta crosses her arms. “So you are mad I have friends.”
“How is that your takeaway from this?” Feyre has to struggle to keep her voice down.
Nesta’s heated eyes cut to Elain, who’s been silent during this whole exchange. “And you agree with her? Or is there something else you’d like to add?”
Elain opens her mouth to respond, but Nesta doesn’t give her the chance. “If I haven’t changed, then neither have you two,” she seethes. “You still think this is the fucking Disney channel or something, where we’re all best friends who have sisterly sleepovers and text each other good night. Wake the fuck up,” she bares her teeth. “Stop expecting things from me and just be happy I’m alive and doing well— because that’s the bare minimum that I’ve always given you!”
But no matter what Nesta says or does, they will never understand her. She will never be enough for them. The realization sinks in with a rattling finality at the resigned look on Feyre and Elain’s faces: like they didn’t hear a word she said. Nesta wonders when they stopped listening.
A throat clears behind her, and she whirls to see Feyre’s boyfriend at the doorway. His pretty-boy face is drawn tight, barely hidden rage simmering in the violet of his eyes. “Pizza’s here,” he says curtly.
Elain blinks tears out of her eyes, spinning back to the counter to pick up the platter of chicken. “Of course,” she says quickly, “the rest of the food is ready too.”
Feyre leaves the kitchen first, then Elain, then Rhysand with a final deadly glare at Nesta.
Nesta doesn’t know how long she stands there in the same spot, unmoving. Only when her phone buzzes from the island countertop does she turn.
Gwyn: did u get me a vibrator for christmas???
***
Cassian hasn’t looked at her all night.
Nesta doesn’t know what she expected when she told him they couldn’t be together in public, but it wasn’t this: him, laughing and talking with everybody at the table save for her. Like she isn’t even sitting there.
Nothing has changed. Least of all her.
She swallows around a mouthful of dry meat, feeling herself slip back into that old, familiar role: the background character. Except tonight is different, because everyone saw Elain’s watery eyes and Rhysand’s furious stare when they left the kitchen, and now Nesta is being ignored on purpose.
The buzzing in her head is louder than any conversation going on at the table anyway. Whether her sisters would believe her or not, Nesta had made plans. Plans to call more often, to make amends for the years of radio silence, to reintroduce herself to Feyre and Elain as a better sister. Not now, but one day— when she finally learned how.
Plans that were all dashed in the span of one conversation. Her knuckles turn bone white around her fork. So much for getting better.
The longer the night goes on, the more hurt and rage swells in her chest, until she fears she can’t say a word without screaming. How long will it be like this between her and her sisters, between her and the world? As if Nesta owes them all one thing or another: her time, her energy, her best smile and her affections. Why does everything have to be an exchange, and why is she always the one giving something up?
Cassian is the one person who always let her be, adjusting to her whenever she couldn’t adjust to him. But she’s having trouble remembering that fact when he won’t even spare a glance her way. When he’s sitting there laughing with Mor in a way he never laughs with her.
“And what about you, girl?”
Amren’s voice drags Nesta out of her haze, and she realizes the woman is speaking to her.
Nesta doesn’t like the way Amren speaks— with barely hidden cruelty, like she takes joy in watching people squirm.
Nesta blinks. “What?”
A slow smile creeps up Amren’s red mouth. “I said,” she repeats, “are you finding the pay for your work at Night Court sufficient?”
“Amren,” Cassian starts, but Nesta is already on her feet. The table falls silent.
“I have to...” she mumbles unintelligibly. She can’t come up with an excuse. Shaking her head, she leaves the table without finishing her sentence. Leaves the dining room and the whole damn apartment.
***
The slam of the door shutting echoes through the penthouse. No one speaks for a long moment, and Cassian finds himself filling the silence: “Was that necessary, Amren?”
Amren sneers. “What did I do?”
Because he’s counting down the seconds until it’s acceptable to go after Nesta, Cassian indulges her. “Not everyone has it in them to play Mean Girls with you whenever you feel like it.”
“Yeah, but did she have to ruin dinner over it?” Mor snorts, reaching over and plucking a roasted Brussels sprout from Nesta’s nearly untouched plate.
Feyre stands up. “I’ll go after her—”
“Don’t bother,” Cassian says, earning a raised brow from Azriel. Elain looks inclined to agree with Cassian until he adds, “I’ll check on her. You don’t need to stress, Feyre.” With a reassuring smile, he pushes out of his seat and heads for the door.
Each casual step toward Nesta lasts a million years, but he finally reaches the hallway beyond the apartment, letting his facade drop in the same breath that the door shuts behind him. Relief wracks his body when he finds Nesta waiting for the elevator, still here.
“Nes,” he calls, hurrying after her.
She punches the elevator button repeatedly, as if that’ll get it to hurry up. He catches up to her and takes hold of her hand, turning her around—
She snatches her wrist out of his grip like she’s been burned, her fingers flexing with pent up emotion. “Not tonight, Cassian.”
“I’ll go home with you, you can tell me what’s wrong—”
“No.”
“Why the hell not?” he demands. She never shuts him out like this.
Nesta stares intently at the elevator doors. “Go back to forgetting I exist.” Her voice is flat.
He scoffs in disbelief. “You’re not serious—”
She whirls on him so quickly he almost stumbles back in surprise. “You didn’t look at me once the entire night.”
Cassian stills, stunned. Is that what this is about? “How could I have?” he laughs, shaking his head. “You’re the one who doesn’t want anyone knowing about us!”
“So you pretend I’m not there at all?” Hurt flares beneath her angered words.
“I can’t do both.” He fights to keep his voice low, aware of the thin walls. “I can’t look at you and not have everyone see what I feel for you— you’re all over me.” Even Azriel sees it, for God’s sake.
“What’s the truth, then?” she hisses. “Are you a terrible actor or a great one? Because in that apartment I forgot we were even in a relationship.”
“You walked in looking like that,” he gestures wildly at the black sheer mesh hugging her body, “and I was supposed to, what? Act like we were friends?” He hasn’t spent all night nearly losing his mind trying to fulfill Nesta’s wishes, trying not to let his feelings show, to get dragged through the mud for it.
“Is that your best excuse?” Nesta sneers. “I used to be too boring to spare a glance, and now I’m too sexy?” She steps closer to him, bringing them chest to chest. “We were good distractions for each other in your lonely little cabin, but deep down you know we wouldn’t last a day in the real world. That’s why we haven’t told anybody, Cassian.”
Cassian knows a spiral when he sees one, and he’s fighting not to get dragged into Nesta’s. “I know this isn’t about me.” He closes his eyes, praying for calm. “It’s about whatever happened with Feyre and Elain tonight.”
Which is the wrong thing to say, from the way Nesta’s face reddens. “Don’t even fucking go there.”
He doesn’t realize that the elevator has dinged open until Nesta reaches out her arm to stop the doors from closing. “You know nothing about me,” she says heatedly. “You were sad and desperate for acknowledgement when we first met, and you’re the same way now. You haven’t. Learned. Anything.”
Cassian almost wishes she would scream senseless things at him like she used to do whenever she was upset— because this refined wrath of hers is so much more hurtful. And it makes him angry, too.
He leans in until his nose is brushing hers. “If this is one of those things where you try to push me away by being cruel, I’m not fucking buying it.”
Like a switch is flipped, the flame in Nesta’s eyes flares out. He sees that dead nothingness and knows he’s lost. “You don’t have to buy it,” she says simply. She steps onto the waiting elevator, and he doesn’t try stopping her. She doesn’t want to be stopped.
Nesta gives him a final look before the doors shut between them. “And I wore this dress for you, asshole.”
Cassian stands there long after she’s gone. Not knowing what to do next.
A muffled laugh breaks through to him from the other side of the walls, and he realizes that everyone has moved back into the living room. Turning around, he goes back inside to his friends.
***
;)
taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2
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just before.
just before. (Undertale fanfic - based off of Wickedtale by @alch3mic - rated M by AO3 standards.)
+ soldier!sans x dancer!reader (they/them prns)
+ 4456 words, english
+ prologue to soldier’s story. first time he ever meets dancer.
+ cw: mentions of murder, classism, yandere/obsessive personality, abusive/controlling parents
+ “he hadn't heard that phrase in years. so constantly aware of the corruption plaguing the world... well, as it seemed, there was still one highlight to live to protect.”
+ AO3 link
Ebott City. The corrupted hell hole that was somehow above ground, while the actual hole the "monsters" came from had been far more palatable. At least, in one case. Many didn't have the same experience he did, but… whatever. That didn't really matter. He didn't really care about it anymore. Why dwell on the past? There's too much shit going on in the present to even have time for something like that.
Day-to-day life was flooded: constantly moving, constantly working, never slowing, never stopping. There's no time for that. The day he gets time to take off and sleep, get whatever medication he's sure he needs for his horrifically weak non-stomach, and lead a healthy and safe lifestyle while retaining his wealth? Ha. In dreams, maybe. This city wasn't kind enough for that. Though, maybe if his ambitions weren't so specific, he wouldn't have fallen into this path of endless work… but it's a little late for that.
His brother had made use of their skills the two of them had attained growing up, and with that opened a dance studio where others of all sorts could come through and learn how to dance. A small corner of peace in this awful world, that little building, where monsters and humans could both dance without feud, where rich and poor could both talk without judgement. Maybe it was ironic, maybe it was fate, or maybe it was straight coincidence that his brother had named the place "Enchanted Dancing." He knew that the name was merely in reference to the magic of their home where everyone had their own sort of dances they practiced, which they all soon found was very different from most other monsters who had battle magic specialties. But even still… heh, ah, it just further proved his point. The only decent place in the world was the Underground, before they ever surfaced.
A beep. 6:00 P.M. Work.
Or, rather, his second line of work.
While he'd abandoned his dance skills long ago, he never really fully disconnected with music as a whole. It's not like he really could when he doesn't have anything else to his life or history -- he doesn't know anything else. So, he made it a pastime to make his own musical works, trying to sell them online for money, but quickly found it's not exactly easy for people to find your work… let alone get them to pay for it when they do. He had run low on money fast -- so fast that he needed something quick and easy that he could do to not end up on the curb in a weeks' time.
He doesn't remember how he heard about it, or really what possessed him to go along with it anyway; but somewhere along the line, he'd caught word of some pretentious wealthy human furiously rattling off how their reputation would be "demolished" if the rumor that had begun about their business didn't come to a halt. How they would pay "insane amounts of money" to have that rumor "eradicated." You know, without really doing any work themself, or trying to better the work that they were doing, or fixing the root of their problem to begin with… Yes, because throwing money at the problem until it's pushed onto someone else is the better solution.
And yet… when someone comes up to you in your hour of despair, presenting to you an arguably invisible layer of protection in this world of work or die, something to get you out of the dark and stop the ticking clock of your otherwise inevitable doom…
It's not like he was going to turn down the offer.
He'd forged some sort of alias -- whatever it was at the time no longer mattered, since he'd had many over the half year or so he's been doing this -- and scribbled out a note of sorts explaining what was, at the time, a feigned, short "resume" for work as an information broker. The note was left with the pretentious prick, who did, in fact, end up contacting him in the end, offering more money than he thought he'd ever see in his waking life. Needless to say, he took the job… and found the issue to be so incredibly simple to resolve that even a child could have done it.
Well, no.
A child would have had more sense of morality.
... probably.
Who was he kidding here, honestly? He complains about the rich on a regular basis, their foolish waste of money, their apathy towards those that didn't have any money, just pure care for only money.
But here he was.
Morality erased.
Lives ruined.
Bank account overflowing.
Doing the same things they were doing.
The very least he could do -- and the very least he does do -- is support those whose music he'd wanted to support while he was on the edge of homelessness. Even some of his online friends, music composition friends, were consistently met with the cash they needed in a moment's notice. "Where did you even get this kind of money?" they would ask him. He would just jokingly say that an old witch blessed him with unending wealth, or something else to that extent of unbelievable ridiculousness.
But, unfortunately, not all of his money could go towards such good causes. While he did have far beyond the money to sustain multiple dozen families, at least a third of it was thrown right back into the exchange as he paid person after person for job after job he was unwilling to do.
There was no blood on his hands. No dust caked into his bones.
But it was splattered all over the money he handed out like trick-or-treat candy.
He'd met two others, notably, that did a lot of work alongside him. A crafty cat and a wily wolf… figuratively, of course. The three of them sharing the same first name, they merely tossed nicknames at each other. More often than he probably realized, they took much of his budget for work he was far too lazy to bother with. You know, scouring the dark web for information, stalking people to track their pathing… the occasional hit here and there. Sometimes, he would do it himself, but only if he really felt up to it… and frankly, he was never in the mood for murder. But that damn wolf was shockingly willing -- for the right paycheck.
He did recognize, however, the two of them did seem to have a mutual similarity that he, personally, did not share.
… he did not have anyone close to him. He didn't have anyone who looked after him, cared for him. It didn't bother him until recently, when apparently that damn wolf managed to lock the object of his affection into a relationship. Even the cat seemed bitter when he heard the news. Someone so fucked as him still manages to find someone?
… the world was just trying with his emotions at this point. Taunting happiness at the end of a pole taped to the back of his head, leaving it just out of reach, but always in his way and always in his line of sight.
Of course, he had his brother…
... who he doesn't talk to for weeks at a time…
... and he keeps turning down his offers to meet up again…
… yes, he had his brother. A strong emphasis on the "had."
He was alone. He knew that. But, at least for the case of his brother, he'd done it on purpose.
The last thing he wants is to have his brother, someone so passionate and pure, hands still clearly clean of sin; find out he has the richest humans of the city wrapped around his fingers out of both fear and dependability.
So, frankly, sometimes he found himself jealous of the other two. The other two who had someone to care for them.
He supposed the trio of them could sort of be friends…
He'd met the wolf a few times in person, both intentionally and not.
He'd bumped into the cat, wasted in a bar, more than once.
… No, they really weren't his friends. Co-workers is the best way he could probably describe them.
Yes, he was just jealous of them.
He was alone.
…
… Well, work isn't going to start itself. He pulled his phone back up to his face, clicking it on to see how long he'd zoned out for. 6:03 P.M. Not too terrible. He slammed shut his laptop, pushing back from his chair as he went to put on the outfit that had practically become his "uniform" at this point. A dark under layer of tight leggings and a fitted long-sleeve athletic tee with a zip-up turtleneck; a desaturated over layer of a baggy, now sleeveless hoodie and equally as baggy gym shorts. And, of course, a hat, as usual… but he wore those no matter the time of day.
His apartment door clicked shut behind him as he left, and once the door was locked, he evaporated into thin air.
-- only to appear, moments later, in front of one of the most lavish mansions in the richest part of Ebott City. It was so bleeding with "I'm such a rich, extra asshole" energy that it made his Soul twist with disgust. The walls were marble, shimmering from small lights below them to show off their sparkling, smooth surface. Each edge of the building was lined with gold-plated metal, even the rails to the stairway. Arching windows stood on either side of the front door, which was probably big enough for an average sized elephant to fit into with some extra ear room to boot.
Thank the stars he didn't have to go inside again. He already knew what his job was for the night, and to be back inside that disgustingly overdone building these pretentious humans called "home"... Just thinking about it made him feel beyond insulted.
He took another shortcut -- this time, finding himself on the rooftop. Although the sun had not yet fully set, even so, it was still much darker here than standing in front of the artificially-lit trophy they called a front entrance. He popped open his phone again. 6:05 P.M.
Unlocking it completely, he pulled up a message from the cat he'd gotten this morning.
morning soldier~ i managed to get done what you needed me to for today last night. which, you owe me BIG-TIME for, mister.
i was up until 4 am doing this!!
Soldier checked the timestamp. Yesterday, 11:34 P.M. Does that cat think he's an idiot? Whatever, it's not like this was the important part of the message. But, if anything, he's getting docked pay for really bad lying. It's not like the guy needs more alcohol money, anyway.
here's a list compiled of all the parties in ebott tonight. i only looked for ones starting after 6 pm like you asked, but there was still far too many… the list is very long (T▽T)
[file download link]
i hope you're happy!!! cause im not looking any more than that!!!!! ☆⌒(> _ <)
He downloaded the file to his phone, browsing through it to see what parties had been collected into the spreadsheet. He only could assume that's what was bringing them out, at the very least.
Oh, yes, his job for the evening. That's integral information, I suppose.
The mansion whose roof he sat upon currently was owned by a human family with the surname King. They had twelve children, all adopted, but were all also kept on very rigorous and strict schedules. The eldest of the children very recently had been caught sneaking out of the house every evening by one of their siblings, and sleeping noticeably late in the morning, their final semester of university was suffering from this all as they refused to finish their thesis. So, naturally as it is for all the rich, they threw their money at the problem hoping that would fix it.
Today's "that" was the skeleton monster sitting on their roof, waiting to see when someone would eventually leave the house.
With a hefty sum of money, upfront payment, as usual; Soldier was told to follow their child for three nights, and to report back after that time with what they had been up to. Seemed easy enough. Of all the jobs he'd gotten, tailing someone for a few days and tracking their every move was probably the easiest he's ever had the misfortune of doing.
He continued to scroll through the list. He had been given absolutely nothing to work with from the Kigngs as to where their kid was headed or when they tended to leave the house, or any information of actual use; so he was going into the job without a clue as to what he was really looking for. It was probably the most difficult aspect of the job -- hence why he outsourced the bulk of it. As for the "where," parties seemed like a reasonable assumption to make for a human college student. That's a rather common stereotype of sorts, college students getting drunk at party after party, is it not? Better than nothing, he supposed. Nothing else really came to mind anyway, but that doesn't mean there wasn't another option. Even still, it's a better start than nothing.
Now he had to just wait for the "when." He had the list in front of him, hoping he could deduce when the human would leave their house… but the more he read it over, the more bored he got. Guess the cat wasted his time. Oh well. That's not Soldier's problem.
Just as he locked his screen shut, planning to come down from the roof and investigate any exits that might be hidden to most of the house, he heard an absurdly loud sound he initially thought was a gunshot, followed by a raspy huff of various curses. Peering over the edge of the rooftop, after shortcutting there silently to avoid making attention towards himself; he noticed there was, in fact, no gunshot, but rather, an awfully messy and junky trap door of sorts, seemingly made of plywood. A human, who he assumed was the one who swore earlier, grabbed a bush that had been sitting next to it, picking it up like it was nothing and placing it over the door. It was in line with several other, similar bushes. The human dusted off their hands before walking, keeping a close eye on the mansion walls to their side.
Well, looks like he's found who he's supposed to tail.
He kept watch over them for as long as his eyes could follow, and then, the moment they left his vision, he shortcutted to where they had been moments ago, though slightly distanced as to be hidden nearby; and simply repeated the process. Soldier knew this part of the city better than the back of his hand, so he knew where he was at all times, as well, making shortcutting silently even easier.
… However, what he didn't understand was where the hell this human was headed. A few times he tried clicking on his phone, scrolling through the list again, but they weren't headed in any direction towards any party. And even when they started heading in the direction of one… they would end up taking a "wrong" turn and dodging it completely.
…
… this was taking a really long time…
It's… almost been an hour by now. Soldier's starting to recognize this area a little less. He knew the map layout, but not all of the details about where they were or what was distinctly different about each street. They were outside of the rich part of town, but not quite in the poorer side that he was used to, either. If he was remembering correctly, this was in the direction of downtown. Unless this human's planning on breaking into some probably-already-crashed college dorm party for the night, they definitely weren't planning to party at all. Okay, well, that throws that plan out the window.
But now he had no idea what to expect. Were they banned from getting help, so they're actively seeking it out? Unlikely. Were they secretly addicted to drugs? Unless it was alcohol, getting away with drug smuggling in downtown was a horrific, nearly impossible idea. Did they have a significant other that their family wouldn't let them see? Well… he had no idea. Thoughts and questions and possibilities kept cycling in and out, but he never lost sight of where they were going.
And, sure enough, the bright downtown lights descended upon them as they started making their way across the long bridge leading to the most eventful point of the city. Due to the sheer length of the bridge, and the fact that Soldier was not as well-versed in the map of the downtown Ebott area… he resorted to traditional stalking, mimicking their every step as casually and nonchalantly as possible, as though to avoid being spotted.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. One new message.
weeeeell? was my work useful? >:3c
He merely huffed half a laugh before typing out his response.
i didnt use it at all
what?! Σ(・口・) soldier, i went through all that hard work, and you didn't even LOOK at it???
i looked at it
i didnt use it
...you're at least still paying me, right?
no
you are the WORST 凸(`△´+)
i'm never doing anything for you again >:(
you dont need the alcohol money anyway
But the cat never responded to that one. Well, Soldier's never been the best at landing most jokes, despite his tendency to make them. Clearly sarcasm wasn't his strong point either. Whatever. He'd pay him later.
He put his phone back in his pocket, putting his attention back to his job as the bridge finally began to end. If the human was suspicious of his following them, they showed no signs of it. Good. Frankly, being silent by stalking someone in this manner isn't his strong suit. He had assumed they would have stayed nearby… not gone to the other side of the city.
The sun had set, but even still, downtown was overwhelmed with artificial lighting, and frankly, it was already giving Soldier a headache and he hadn't even been here for more than 10 minutes. Curse his ridiculously weak and sensitive body.
The human kept walking along, though their pace was beginning to hasten as they flickered their gaze between stepping and a phone screen. Naturally, he also quickened his footing, although unsure as to why. Maybe they were running late for something?
They took a sharp left into a shady alleyway; Soldier shortcut to its entrance, spotting them sprinting down it as fast as they could before eventually climbing up a wooden fence at the end, reaching its peak and jumping over it with ease. Like they'd done this many times before. Soldier, confused, checked the name of the buildings on either side of the alleyway… but neither were significant. One was even an apartment building of sorts, but it looked abandoned at best. Well, might as well continue.
Reaching the end of the alley and pushing himself over the fence with magic to avoid making as much sound as possible, Soldier's feet landed on the concrete of the other side. It was surprisingly… clean. As if someone kept it nice regularly. He went to take a step forward when he heard chattering, and instead, tucked himself behind the smallest edge of the nearby wall, barely peering over its edge to see the rest of the area.
It was like a very small park. Perhaps a courtyard? But it was too barren for that. Well, all except the trees. There were four skinny trunks sprouted from the ground, all of different kinds, and probably no more than two and a half meters tall. Around them was a square-shaped sidewalk of the same concrete he was standing on.
But, at that center of the trees, were two humans, not one. He recognized the one he'd been following up until this point -- vaguely, and mostly just from the color of their clothing -- but the other was new.
"I'm sorry I'm late, I was held up worrying I was going to get caught…" the human he'd followed spoke. "My dad apparently hired someone to follow me for a few days. One of my sisters told me… she apparently ratted me out -- she was forced to -- and now my dad's on a manhunt to find out what I'm doing."
"Yikes," the other person responded. They had a higher pitched voice, but a lower tone of interest. "Sorry to hear about it. You didn't need to come racing here to tell me that, you know. You could have stayed home and texted me to move the lesson."
Lesson?
"No, it's fine. I came because I wanted to. It probably would have been better if I waited… but I was too excited about tonight," the human explained. "It's the first time we're practicing the whole dance routine straight through. I've been practicing on my own some other nights, too."
… dance routine?
The other human let go of a heavy laugh. "You've really been practicing for two weeks straight with no other dance party breaks?"
"I said on some other nights!"
The both of them laughed.
But Soldier was stuck on "dance routine."
A phrase he typically only heard from his brother anymore, and he barely talked to him as is.
A phrase he'd never said himself in… so long.
An act he hasn't tried since they were still trapped Underground…
An act that, even back then, he'd sworn off doing after so many years of it.
It's like he'd been punched directly in the Soul. Possibly even with a knife.
"Well, are you ready to start, then?"
Soldier's attention peered back to the two humans.
"Yup, whenever you are!"
There was a brief period of silence.
Then the music started. He didn't recognize it at first…
But the realization that it was his own piece hit him in the face like a truck. Some sort of shivering heat rushed through his body. … embarrassment? ...maybe? He… wasn't sure.
But even still…
He soon became entranced by their dancing.
Only the human he had been following was dancing the routine. Every step timed perfectly to every beat and measure… so meticulously performed with such dedication. But then, some old part of him started to creep back from where it had been shoved away, as he started judging the technique of their every move. Sure, they had a… beautiful dedication to every step they took… but much of it was wrong. Though, they were not missteps. Everything planned was executed with confident perfection. The moves themselves were wrong. Some of them didn't match the tone of the piece at all, and it was clear that they were self-taught, just based on how they were moving in between each one. He wasn't mad, no… no, rather… he was utterly fascinated.
Soldier stood and watched the whole routine, start to finish. Though, he couldn't help but have a yelp from his own Soul every time they did something his own memory was screeching to be incorrect. It was yelping because… he wanted to correct them. He wanted to walk up to them, tell them what was wrong with their choices, and point them in the right direction. He wanted to… take them by the hand, directing their movements through his, teaching them how to dance the way he was taught. He… couldn't stop staring…
A scream. Soldier shortcut in a panic. He was now on the opposite side of the wooden fence, back in they alleyway.
"What, what is it?" The voice of the second human.
"I… I thought I saw someone." A breathy, horrified tone from the dancer. "I thought someone was watching me but… th-then I blinked and… they were gone."
The second human huffed angrily. "You haven't been getting proper sleep lately, have you? Maybe you should go home and rest."
Still breathing heavily, the dancer hummed a sound of malcontent. "I… Can I finish the routine first?"
"Really, now…" But with a sigh, the second human allowed them to start again from the beginning.
Meanwhile, Soldier…
He was doing his best not to scream on his own. So many emotions overwhelmed him entirely. Most of which he could not identify. But one thing would not stop looping in his mind. One thing other than a raging beat echoing in his skull from the sound of his own Soul racing, that was. In fact, that only heightened.
The thought of taking their hand. Teaching them to dance.
The overwhelming feeling of hearing someone else not just listening to his work… but expanding upon it. Being able to express themself through it. Being able to see themself through him.
The raging passion burning deep inside of him, regretting his forgone dancing career. It ate at his Soul, bit by bit. Begging his laziness to cave for them and them alone.
The fact that all of these thoughts happened in the very same millisecond that he made eye contact with them… he felt unexplainably and weirdly hot.
That eye contact. Their eyes, their face. They were almost as beautiful as the dances they performed… no… perhaps even more so.
Another loud beat echoed in his skull. The song was reaching its end. He knew he needed to start going home before he was caught.
But part of him wanted to be caught.
Part of him wanted to catch them.
… And all of him wanted to see them dancing… just one more time. Once more, that's all he asks.
Just one more time.
Maybe… maybe that will suffice.
Maybe that will drive away the fortissimo thoughts clouding his sense of reality. Maybe he'll be able to go back to…
A thought. A separate one, remembered from earlier this same evening.
"Alone."
He was… alone.
…
Did he really want to go down the same paths as…?
No, not really.
But it seemed his Soul was not giving him much other option. The mere thought of never being able to label himself as lonely… and if it was because of someone as beautiful as them…
Well. He already was a hypocrite, chanting against a society he partook in regularly. What other damage could be done by reaffirming what he already knew?
Besides. His Soul was desperate.
He wanted that dancer for his own.
No… no, this was most certainly a need.
#undertale#undertale au#soldier!sans#dancetale sans#wickedtale#undertale fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#undertale fanfiction#yandere tw//#zircon writes#zircon arts#i am too tired for this#but i could not sleep#so instead i am posting this#ive had it done for a while#but the drawings been sitting half finished for a while lol
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𝙁𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙨 𝙄𝙣 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚
Sim Jake x Reader x Lee Heeseung
Genre: Fluff, Best friends to lovers!au
Summary: Your class went on a 4 days retreat, staying at a retreat house to do fun activities and connect with people without mobiles. Scared confessions and denying feelings, what else could go wrong?
“Welcome to St. Augustine retreat house, the boys dorms is at the east while the girls dorm is at the west. We’ll give you 30 minutes to prepare blah blah blah” your teachers voice gets in and out of your ears when your attention got hooked on the nice scenery of the place, the retreat house gives you Fantasy vibes so much. Lots of trees and flowers can be seen anywhere , it looks so refreshing. Birds chirping and the nice Sunlight hitting your skin that doesn’t seem to feel like burning at all. A perfect place to read books and spend time with your love ones.
“Miss l/n?”
You snapped back to reality and turned your gaze to your teacher, cursing under your breath when you realize you were the only one left at the entrance. “Your mind is flying to somewhere again, go to the girls dormitories and unpack. We will start the activities tomorrow”
“Right... where is it again?” You asked.
“On the west”
———
Everyone finished unpacking their stuffs and put on casual comfy clothes, you and Jake decided to meet up at the garden and take a stroll before dinner. “I wonder what kind of food they’ll serve us?” Jake initiates the conversation, kicking a rock out of his way. “I feel like, just chicken with rice and a soup” you said. Both of you went to the fountain and made a wish.
You closed your eyes, clasping your hands together. “I wish for more better things to come” and threw the penny to the fountain. You turned at jake who’s still wishing, eventually he threw his penny to the fountain like you did. “What did you wish for?” You asked him.
He smirks, “I’ll tell you if you kiss me on the lips” you playfully tried to smack his arm which he dodged, it’s happening again where Jake will flirt with you to make you blush and frustrated. You hated it. it’s makes you question if you have romantic feelings towards him or not. Most of the time you just roll your eyes at him and talk about something else. Suddenly, some tall dude wraps his arms around Jakes shoulder and messes his hair- oh it was just Heeseung. “Dinner’s ready lovebirds”
“Don’t call us that, we’re just bestfriends” you corrected him.
Heeseung glance at you and smiled, he somehow felt relieved “Sure”
Day 1
9 am, you pretty much struggled getting out of bed cause it was so comfy, you were the last one to get out of the girls dormitory. Heading at the dinning hall, you sat between Jake and Heeseung and ate breakfast together. After that, the activities started. It was held in a room, enough for a class to fit in. “It’s kinda chilly in here” you said, hugging yourself. You flinched when someone suddenly wrapped their jacket around. “Take it” Jake said, you literally need to look up to him cause he’s towering you. “Thanks, I’ll return this later”
“Okay class, as you can see we have white candles and pink candles here. Each one of you will choose a candle and give it to someone, the white candle means ‘I’m sorry’ while the pink candle means ‘thank you’ not only that it also means that you’re confessing your love to the person you’re giving it to. So to those who’ll chose pink candles better explain what they meant or else we’ll have a misunderstanding” the teacher instructed and told the class to form a line.
Everyone got their own candles and returned back to their seats, it’s finally your turn to chose and you picked the white candle. You wanted to apologize to someone sincerely since your apology before was not really done well. The teacher turned off half of the lights so that the room would look dimmer and the candles will look more noticeable, setting the atmosphere comforting. You immediately approached the person in your mind, thankfully there wasn’t anyone near him so that you can apologize better “I’m sorry if I kicked you in the face on first day of school” you handed him the white candle.
Heeseung declined it making you frown, “you almost dislocated my jaw”
“Did it tho?”
“No”
“Then I’m sorry” you said again and this time he accepts it.
You were about to walk away when you heard him call your name, he then gave you a pink candle. “I like you”
You didn’t know how to react, you don’t like him back but you also somehow feel touched. He likes you? Since when? You opened your mouth but not a word came out, Heeseung’s starting to feel nervous as he waits for your answer. “Y/n!” You heard your bestfriend’s voice and turned your head at him. Jake has this wide smile on his face that made your heart feel heavy. Has he been always this pretty when he smiles?
Jake also gave you a pink candle but what he said next is different “Thank you for being my bestfriend” he wanted to say more but Jake chose to keep his mouth closed. No, he’s still not ready yet. Now there’s two boys holding out a pink candle towards you, both waiting for your response but instead of speaking up you just accepted both of it.
———
The First day of retreat eventually ended, It was fun. Though you have to put away your shyness and talk to everyone. There were some stories told, depressing and happy stories. You didn’t know what your classmates go through. Moving on, it’s now midnight and you’re completely just staring at the ceiling while the other girls are already asleep. You sighed, no matter how hard you try you didn’t feel sleepy at all. ‘Should I go take a walk?’ You thought, ‘yeah maybe I should’
You sat up and put your slippers on, surely there’s no one patrolling outside right? And you’re just going out for a little stroll it wouldn’t hurt. You slowly twist the doorknob and opened it, careful not making any sound to wake the others up. You headed out, the cold breeze making contact with your skin, you went to the fountain and sat there. Good thing they kept the lights on, you admired the place once again. “Thank God I thought you were a white lady from afar” Jake pops out of nowhere with his pjs and sat beside you.
You got surprised by his sudden appearance but calmed down after knowing it was just your best friend, you guys mistook each other as ghost “can’t sleep?” You said.
“Mm, some boys keeps snoring so loud.. you?”
“I don’t feel sleepy” you look down and swing your legs.
Jake turns his body at you, “ok how about I sing you a song?” You haven’t actually heard him sing before, all you got was humming as he gently slams the desk and snap his fingers after, creating a nice melody. You nodded.
Jake clears his throat, “Do you know how much I feel for you?” He stares into your eyes.
“You make my heart skip a bit or two
Oh my love, you made me love you like a fool
So tell me what do I do?
To know what’s inside your mind
Everytime you look into my eyes i melt inside” he stops, you wanna complain and tell him to sing more but you just let him be. His voice is so soothing you wondered why he never sings in public or atleast when you two are alone.
“Your voice is beautiful”
Day 2
“The class president told me we’re having lunch with Roseville high!” you heard one of your girl classmate, their friend group squealed but not too loud. What’s up with Roseville high? They have a lot of good looking rich students so it’s no surprise most of your classmates are excited to share the dining hall with them. Todays activities was held short and it’s now time for lunch, you yawned. Walking along with everyone heading for the dinning hall.
It started to rain, you stopped in your tracks and looked outside, letting everyone else go past by you. There was a terrace at front, you leaned in at its railings and stick your hand out catching the raindrops with your palm. “There you are!”
“Hmm?” You pulled your hand back.
Heeseung leaned his back on the railings, putting his hands inside his pocket. “Everyone’s waiting, we can’t eat with one missing.. Actually make that two” out of nowhere he grabs your hands and and drags you with him to the dining hall, you felt tiny when almost every student darted their eyes on you when you entered the room. Your eyes automatically scans the room searching for your bestfriend. You saw him eating not really far from you with.. a girl that obviously looks like from Roseville High. You gently tapped Heeseung’s arm, successfully getting his attention you pointed at the girl that seems to be having fun talking with your bestfriend. “Who’s that?”
“Just.. some girl”
“we should join them later” Heeseung said, grabbing a tray and falls in line. You trailed behind him and and grab your own. “I think... we should let them be, they look like they’re having fun” you suggest.
———
“You didn’t give me an answer yesterday”
You got confused for a bit but then you remembered what happened yesterday, Heeseung’s sudden confession... right.
“I uhh...”
“It’s okay if—“
“I guess we can try” it’s like your mouth has a mind on its own and blurted that out. You wanted to slap yourself so bad and take it back but it already happened. And he’s smiling.
Your little moment got interrupted when Jake sat in front in of you two with a smile on his face. He turns his head and wave at the girl he was talking to earlier. Your hands balls into a fist under the table as you watch them glance at each other happily again before the girl leaves. Why does your heart feels burning suddenly. “Did you have fun?” You ask your bestfriend.
Jake raised his brows, “Yeah pretty much”
You snorted and stood up, leaving the dining hall to calm yourself down and figured out why you’re feeling like this. Jake tried to catch up on you but you immediately leave the hall and went to the girls dormitories.
Day 3,
“These were sent by your parents, you can find a place to read their letters and have some privacy. We will give you guys some time to reflect” your teacher handed the letters one by one, you got yours and went for the garden to read it. You sat on the bench and took a deep breath before opening their letter. It started out with simple greeting but as you continue to read it gets deeper and deeper you cried. It’s just simple words but they really pour their heart in it to show that they love and care for you.
You went back to the recollection room, others still hasn’t finished reading theirs and some are crying. You eyes found jake, he’s sitting in the very corner of the room and hugging his knees. You approached him, “hey” you sat beside him and put your arm around his shoulders. He put his head on your shoulder and quietly sobbed. You hummed to atleast comfort him, He wipes his tears away and fished out something out of his pocket. “I wrote you a letter too”
You were about to unsealed it when Jake grabs your hand to stop you, “but don’t read it yet until I say so”
“Ookayy?”
“You feeling better now?” You ask, he nodded.
Jake sighed and leaned against the wall, he stared on the ceiling trying to calm himself down while you look at him, scanning his features. You know he’s handsome but he got even more handsome now and not just that Jake has a great personality his future partner is lucky. Jake glance at you, you didn’t look away but instead you stared into his eyes even more, it’s sparkling. He holds your hand and rubs it with his thumb.
———
Dinner already ended, Everyone hung out outside while others went to the dorms to rest. You decided to pack your things since tomorrow will be a more busy day than the past few days, it’s the last day and there’s going to be festival held downtown tomorrow. The teacher are taking the class to join the civillians to celebrate and buy some goods to take home. Time skip, it was still early to sleep so your girl classmates sat on the floor and formed a circle sharing each other stories. Since you don’t have anything to do you joined them. They’re just asking about each others crushes and boyfriends while you space off and stare at somewhere until...
“Hey y/n! What about you? Do you have your eyes on someone?” The class president asked you.
You rub your neck “I don’t-“
“Wait wait do you guys hear something?” Everyone got quiet.
“It’s coming from outside!” suddenly everyone rushes towards the window, you were left but it was a relief. “Isn’t that Heeseung?!”
What.
You dashed towards the window where everyone else are at and forced yourself to the crowd, you eventually got in front. There was Heeseung out side strumming on a guitar (where did he get that?) while looking up at you. His smile grew even more when his eyes landed on you, he kept singing. The girls screamed and nudges you, telling you to go downstairs and meet him. You did. But as soon as you were in-front of him, Heeseung gets on one knee and gave you flower (that he probably picked out somewhere) you accepted it. He then reached for your free hand looks up to you. “Will you please let me court you?”
Oh my god, isn’t things going too fast?
“I...”
“Well what do you say?!” “Y/n say yes!” The girls screamed.
“Y-yes!” Heeseung finally gets up and hugs you tightly, you did the same. Your girl classmates cheered. “Oi oi! What’s all this commotion all about?” the teacher interrupted. They’re already wearing their pjs seems like the screaming disturbed someone. “Ah nothing.. I’m just uhm it’s nothing” Heeseung said.
“Really? Then you kids go back to your dorms and sleep, we’ll leave early for tomorrow” and after that your teacher left.
“So.. I’ll get going now, see you tomorrow” you gave him a smile you were about to leave when Heeseung gently grab your wrist and pulled you back. He gave you a peck on the cheeks and smiled. “Right I’ll see you tomorrow” he said and waved goodbye. You hold your face, hiding the redness as you go back to your dorm. The girls greeted you with a hug, cheering you up. “If my future suitor doesn’t do that to me then I don’t want him”
You lay down on your bed and faced the wall, recalling what the hell just happened. Admit it, you don’t entirely like him but why did you say yes? Sometimes you can’t even understand yourself.
Day 4, Last day
The class president woke you up telling you too prepare and that breakfast is ready. you nodded and got up. After changing into normal clothes and styling your hair you head towards the door and opened it not expecting a guest this early. “Pres told me you’re still here, let’s eat?” He didn’t even wait for your response, Heeseung drags you along with him to the dining hall. The both of you met a sleepy Jake at the entrance.
He yawns and streches his arms, he saw you and Heeseung and decided to Greet you “Good Mooorrning???” Jake enthuastic tone drops as his eyes landed to your and Heeseung’s holding hands. You realized it and took your hand back but he just holds it again. Jake tried to brush it off but he can’t help but to glance at you two while eating. Each giving you suspicious look. Jake’s the one who finished his meal first, he didn’t think twice and stood up. “hey Hee can we talk for a min? alone?”
“Sure” they both leave the dining hall, Jake lead him to the farthest place, the boys dormitories.
“Are you.. and Y/n a thing?”
Heeseung smirks, “Yeah”
“The hell’s wrong with you? You knew I liked her! I’ve been planning to confess and yet here you are just swooping her in so easily, what happened to Bro code?”
“I don’t know jake, I guess you’re just too slow” Heeseung walks forward decreasing the gap between him and Jake. He pats Jake on his shoulder “so I say you do what you want to do before I can make her entirely mine”
———
You looked at yourself once again in your pocket mirror and shoving it inside your bags front pocket after. “Alright! since everyone’s here now get on the bus and let’s head downtown” the teacher, you and your classmates cheered, excited to go downtown and shop for souvenirs/gifts and to celebrate the festival. You got on the bus and you picked the seat near at the back, you put your bag on the luggage rack and sat down after. You saw Jake, you waved at him and pointed on the seat beside you. But before he could even occupy it Heeseung preceded him and took the seat. “Hee that’s my seat”
“Did you pay for it?”
“No”
“Then go sit somewhere else”
“Ok how about we just seat at the very back so you two can seat beside me?” You suggested, they didn’t protest.
Heeseung got up, letting you out. Him and Jake both followed you. You sat at the middle, “oh it’s kinda cozy here” you said, thankfully there wasn’t any air conditioner above the seats to freeze to hell out of your head. The three of you finally settled down, good thing Jake and Heeseung didn’t bickered so you were at peace. The ride didn’t took long, you eventually arrive at the said destination and got out. The class agreed to meet at 1 pm, it’s only 8 am so you still have 5 hours to spare. After that the class went on their separate ways, and of course you went with your bestfriend also not leaving Heeseung behind.
“Lets go shopping for clothes” Heeseung Suggested.
“No we should shop for souvenirs first” Jake said, and the two boys continue to argue again. You rolled your eyes scanning the place where you at right now finding a place to go first. Your eyes trails up on the hill whereas there’s a lot of people sightseeing and taking a lots of photos on top. “Guys I think we should go there first, it looks cool!” You pointed out.
———
Time flies so fast only one hour left before you return back to the meeting place, you’re currently having lunch on a small fast food chain. Jake excused himself and went to the restroom Heeseung took this as a chance to confess something. “I.. I can’t take it anymore” he started. “All of the things that I did in these past few days, it’s all an act” he admits, causing you to look up to him and furrow your brows. “Act? What do you mean?”
“Jake has something to tell you so just play along” he said.
You got even more confused “Hee how am I going to do that when I don’t even know what’s going on?”
In the very corner of Heeseung’s eye he caught a glimpse of Jake’s figure coming to your table so he took a tissue and wipes your mouth pretending that there’s something in there. He crumpled the tissue and dropped it on the table, he then looks at Jake who’s now sitting beside you and giving Heeseung death glares secretly. He smirks. “Okay That’s it” Jake finally decided to man up, he turned his head at you and holds your hand.
“Y/n I need to talk to you”
“I-whoa okay!” You said, Jake didn’t waste anytime and drags you out of the fast food chain. You glance back at Heeseung giving him What’s-going-on?! Look but the boy just waves at you.
After you disappeared in sight, Heeseung rest his head on his palm. He did like you, but after he went at your dorms to serenade you. He saw a big difference of how you felt between him Jake, he couldn’t make you blush and flustered like him and that’s when he knew he didn’t stood a chance in the first place. And the only thing to escape or deny that he in fact have also fallen in love with you too is to show you that it was all an just act, to make Jake feel jealous all this time so he can man up and tells you how really feels.
Jake took a deep breath before speaking up actually he took a lot of deep breaths trying to calm his heart down, “Jake you good?”
“Listen I, I like you okay? Wait no scratch that I love you. I don’t know when and where it started it just it happened and I thought it was just a silly old crush but no it starts to grow big I couldn’t- It won’t go away anymore. I’ve never felt this way in my past flings only you made feel so complicated understanding what I feel which is love, you’re the best person I’ve ever meet so will you please choose me and not him?” Jake confesses leaving you speechless. You felt your worlds collide.
So this is what Heeseung meant earlier? You were relieved it was all an act because you can’t like him back the way he wants you to, the reason why you agreed to him to court you was, you got too pressured on answering him so all you did was to say yes.
“I also feel the same way but what about the girl from Roseville high?” you tuck your hair behind your ear.
“What about her? she’s just my cousin” he explained.
“Didn’t Heeseung told you that?” Jake asked, you shook your head in response.
“That prick” he whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing, lets go back?” He offered his hand, you nodded and smiled. The both of you got back inside again while holding each others hands.
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Okay.... hear me out. T4T post-war Snarry where substance use starts them on the path to cracking their eggs and meeting as new people who are ready to give each other a second chance. A sickeningly self-indulgent fic idea, pure rambling. Target audience: me and me alone.
Transfemme Snape is on probation after the Death Eater trials and is stripped of her magic. It's temporary and much better than Azkaban but it also means that Snape is essentially a Squib for three years following the sentence. One of the things that happens as a result of this is that all of the subtle "notice-me-not" charms on the area around Spinner's End wear off and the local authorities finally decide it's time to get rid of that slum. Snape is forced to move, which is probably for the best, all things considered. Living with your abusive parents' ghosts isn't conducive to healing... and there's a lot that Snape needs to heal from. As things stand Snape really doesn't want to have anything to do with the wizarding world so she moves to a muggle town somewhere on the coast. What with not being able to do magic she also turns to muggle solutions for a lot of her problems. She makes a living tending bar (she's basically nocturnal, doesn't drink, and can quell unruly customers with a look, so it's a good fit). She starts taking medical marijuana for the chronic pain caused by her encounter with Nagini and it stops her from feeling mildly suicidal for the first time in ages. It's nothing like her life was before and so she slowly starts shedding some of the fear and pain that kept her in line and an effective tool... basically her whole life.
Trans guy Harry goes a bit wild after the whole "I died to save the wizarding world" thing. He feels like he's been robbed of his childhood, his adolescence, and basically all the experiences that "normal kids" should have, so he lets go of his remaining impulse control and starts to spiral. The summer of 1998 is rough. There's the funerals, the trials, everybody trying to pick up the pieces of their life. Harry doesn't think he has any pieces of himself left to pick up. He didn't really plan for a future after the war... he could never see himself grown up. Harry breaks up with Ginny because the way they are together makes his skin crawl, even if he can't put a finger on why that is. Ron gets really mad at Harry for dumping his sister and even more so when Harry says that he doesn't want to be an Auror anymore. He briefly goes back for his 8th year with Hermione but drops out in November when he only manages to turn in two assignments and spends most of his time finding ways to sneak off the grounds to get drunk in London clubs. Harry's friends worry about him but there's only so much they can do to help somebody who really doesn't want to be helped. Harry moves into Grimmauld Place, cuts his hair really short, and spends his nights "living" which mostly just means doing party drugs and having a few ill-advised one-night stands. When there is no one to party with, Harry gets drunk alone in Grimmauld Place and punches mirrors. He doesn’t see a future for himself so he decides to just live in the present, however long that's going to last him. He can feel a break coming, something terrifying but necessary. It feels like the only way to forward is to spiral down.
Snape, who has known something was off since she was a kid, finally lets herself accept what that thing is. It isn’t an earth-shattering revelation, just part of slipping off the masks of professor and spy and Death Eater until all that's left underneath is her. How the fuck did she fool everybody into thinking that she was a man for all these years? Maybe that’s why she was such a good spy. Started young. Hid it even from herself. It’s not really an easy thing to accept, but inevitable. Snape is already grieving everything else about her life so what's another lie, another chance at happiness that slipped away before she even knew what it was? She spends a lot of time in her shabby little flat getting stoned but she also walks along the beach and starts planning the rest of her life.
Harry cracks on another of his drunken nights out to some rather unpleasant consequences, including ministry officials having to obliviate dozens of muggles in a Camden club and a hangover so bad even potions don't help with it. Most of it gets hushed up but the yellow press takes the opportunity to start saying how the "Girl-Who-Lived" finally went off the rails, complete with an unflattering picture of Harry's new haircut (granted Harry was about to throw up when the picture was taken...). Harry lays low for a while but he is also a man of action and so he begins to research ways he could transition. St. Mungo's doesn't provide that kind of healthcare so if he wants to go the magical route he would have to figure it out himself or find an expert in gender magic... who doesn't seem to exist. There are references to a witch who brewed a potion to change her gender, but she lived in the 18th century. Being trans is stigmatized in the wizarding world so he assumes that wixen who have transitioned probably don't advertise the fact. Harry doesn't trust himself to do any magic or potion work that advanced without killing himself, so he decides to keep searching. He swears Madam Pomfrey to secrecy and asks her if she can help him. She's taken aback and tells him this kind of magic is not well studied and she doesn't know if there's a potioneer alive, other than Severus Snape maybe, who would even try working on something like that. However, even if Snape wasn't a squib and unable to brew anymore, Harry certainly isn't planning to have anything to do with his old potions professor. He decides that maybe he should just try muggle means.
Meanwhile Snape has been doing theoretical research on magical transition but hits a dead end. She needs access to a magical library, she needs to be able to actually experiment... Not to mention that she still has years of her probation left, which means years before she can even attempt transition. The only thing to do is turn to muggle means to both manage her dysphoria and maybe inspire the next stage of her research. It takes a while to secure an appointment, but one fateful day Snape walks into the reception area of a London clinic... right as Harry Potter is exiting the doctor's office after his check-in for being 3 months on T. To say that there is a moment of shocked silence would be an understatement.
They meet up for coffee and cautiously become a two-person support group for trans wixen who got fucked over by fate (and Dumbledore) and miraculously survived a war. Harry lets Snape use the library at Grimmauld Place and Snape promises to expand her research to try and develop something for him too. Harry apprentices to a curse-breaker and weathers the press dragging him through the mud every chance they get. Snape might have mellowed out a bit but she still gets on Harry's case about the drinking and not finishing school. They bicker a lot and sometimes Harry overcompensates on the machismo and acts like James, or Snape feeling a blinding rage that Harry is so fucking young and has his whole life ahead of him... but they end up coming around to each other every time. On some level, they are the only people in the world who can really understand each other.
Over the course of the next year and a half, they slowly get their lives sorted. And through that process, they become the most important people in each others' lives. What started out as reluctant solidarity grows until one day Harry can't imagine a future that doesn't have Snape in it, and Snape starts thinking of "home" as being wherever Harry is. It's not easy, considering how many issues both of them have, but it's the easiest thing in the world compared to the alternative. Cue resolution of them both magically transitioning, dealing with public perceptions, and leaning into being a scandalous power couple who doesn't take shit from anybody.
Now, if only I could write this as an actual story....
#the target audience for this is me#i feel like if i ever write a fanfic this would be it#except i can't make myself write#and if i ever do i will probably turn this into an original story#but here#i can think of maybe two people who will be into this#severus snape#serverus x harry#snarry#trans snape#trans harry potter#substance use cw#alcohol cw#self-harm cw#weed cw#idk#ask to tag
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