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cyoc49 · 5 months ago

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Put Some Clothes On!

I’ve made my thoughts about modern young people known in the past, but you must know I really do try to hold my tongue. Even if I disagree with the way today's young adults dress, that doesn't mean I have to project it onto folks who are just trying to enjoy themselves... I mean, I very much can project onto them if I wanted to, if you've read some of my other material you've seen what I'm capable of. But doing that comes with all other sorts of consequences, which are admittedly usually very fun for me, but can be a headache to deal with. So again, I hold my tongue and silently lament the state of manners and dress in the world.

But sometimes, even I reach my limit. The other day, for example, I was going for a walk by the beach, when I came across a group of summer breakers having a party. All were dressed in far too little, but I did my best to ignore them and keep walking. Until I saw this one man. He was clothed only by the loosest definition of the word. His swimsuit was more like a folded napkin, designed to cover the bare minimum. Where did he even find a swimsuit that small? Do they sell them that small nowadays? And worst of all was the cockiness. The clear pride he felt for his body and all that he was showing. It made me sick. I could see in his eyes he genuinely believed this is what a good life was about. If I looked closely, it even looked like he had applied oil to his body to maximize the appearance of his exposed features.

This was just too far, even for me. I felt my words wanting to make themselves known. And before I could quell my tongue, I burst out in anger

“Put some clothes on!”

The group looked at me, and several started jeering. But I only paid attention to the undressed man. He was staring back at me, and I could see a blank look in his eyes. Uh oh. This is what I was trying to avoid. But this young man had pushed me over the edge and now he was going to learn firsthand the effect I can have on people.

Suddenly the man stood up and started walking away from the group, paying no mind of any of them. He stared dead ahead, no sign of brain activity behind his eyes. He was walking like a man on a mission, until he reached what I presume was his car. He got in, still clad in only a speedo, and started to drive away.

Shoot. This was getting out of hand quickly. Before he got too far, I hailed my chauffeur and told him to follow the runaway vehicle. Roughly 10 minutes later we arrived at what I presume was the man’s house. He'd driven his car haphazardly up the driveway, leaving the car door open and keys still running in the ignition. I headed towards the front door, which had similarly been left wide open.

From what I could tell as I walked through his house, he lived alone. I heard noise coming from a room around the corner. I walked into what appeared to be the man’s bedroom, where I found him in the attached bathroom looking very different already.

True to my word, he had put on some clothes. But he’d done more than that: he’d gone into his closet and picked out an outfit typically reserved for more formal occasions. He was wearing a purple plaid dress shirt, a Vineyeard Vines whale emblazoned on the breast. The shirt was tucked into a pair of pressed white dress pants, cinched with a brown leather belt. He'd chosen a pair of brown loafers to wear with the ensemble, but had decided to forgo socks, giving him the air of someone more likely to spend summer afternoons at the docks or the country club than half-naked on the beach. To that same effect, he'd taken some hygiene measures to clean himself up all around. He had given himself a clean shave, now looking much more fresh faced than he did with the previous mustache. And he'd run some product through his hair, giving him an appearance that was put-together but not overly formal.

I slowly approached him, taking in the transformation he'd undergone in just a few minutes. He was intently staring in the mirror, flossing his teeth. Once he'd determined that those too were spotless, he turned to face me.

I looked him in the eyes again. The blank expression was gone, and I could again see that cockiness he'd exhibited before. Instead of pride for his body, he was now showing pride for his appearance. As I looked at him, the side of his mouth formed a smirk.

"Is this alright?" He asked me, with a tone somewhere between sarcastic remark and genuine inquiry.

He'd impressed me a lot in the past 20 minutes, but this was once again a step too far. I'd already broken my pledge to keep my words to myself, I might as well finish the job.

"On your hands and knees," I snapped, and within half a second he was on all fours on the ground. Bent with his head pointed towards my feet in reverence. That was more like it. “Now look at me” I commanded him, and his eyes turned up to meet mine. I could see a mixture of emotions in his eyes: Fear for the control I exhibited over his body, fading hints of that cockiness trying to hold on, a slight arousal at his current situation. But above all, in his eyes I saw that he now understood exactly what he was: an object. His life as he'd known it was over, from now on he existed for my pleasure. He could do his little cocky hot boy act, act like he was king of the world dressed up or down, but he would always know I totally controlled him, and with just a few words I could make him be or do anything I wanted.

I stared him back in the eyes with a hard glare.

“You’re mine now, you know that right?”

“Y-yes”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir”

“Say it again”

“Yes, sir”

“Say it again”

“Yes, sir”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, sir”

“Who do you answer to?”

“You, sir”

“Whose boy are you?”

“Yours, sir”

“You love the orders I give you”

“I love the orders you give me, sir”

“You were lost before I found you.”

“I was lost before you found me, sir”

“You were degrading yourself with nudity.”

“I was degrading myself with nudity, sir”

“You were degrading yourself with vanity.”

“I was degrading myself with vanity, sir”

“You will follow a better way.”

“I will follow a better way, sir”

“You will follow my orders.”

“I will follow your orders, sir”

“I will make you into a man.”

“You will make me into a man, sir”

“A man has class.”

“A man has class, sir”

“A man should always respect himself.”

“A man should always respect himself, sir”

“A man should always dress properly.”

“A man should always dress properly, sir”

“A man should always obey his superiors.”

“A man should always obey his superiors, sir”

“A man knows his place.”

“A man knows his place, sir.”

“Now repeat it all back to me, boy, and tell me what you are in this world.”

A last trace of fear flared up in his eyes, one dying attempt of his conscious to hold on. One last breath of his old self. And then it was gone, and there was nothing behind his eyes. Just a drone’s gaze. Then, he began to speak in a complete monotone:

“I am what you make me into, sir. I was nothing before you, now I exist entirely for you, sir. I was lost, now I see my one goal in life. I need to be a good boy. I need to dedicate every fiber of my being to becoming a good boy. To following instructions. To respecting myself and other. I need to be molded into the picture perfect image of a gentleman, and I need you to do it for me, sir.”

It was done. Just like that, he was mine. I knew it wouldn’t take long to reach this point, but I did always enjoy the process. The rebellious ones are always particularly fun to break.

Now that he’s mine, I’ll need him to take care of a few last tasks.

“Listen up. I’m going to let you stand up in a moment, but you need to listen carefully.”

“Yes, sir”

“You’ve got a few tasks you need to take care of right now. Understand?”

“Yes, sir”

“Good. First of all, all this old junk has to go. All your clothes, all your furniture, it's all vulgar and unbecoming of a man. Go through some luxury catalogs and order new clothes and furniture. Everything you wear should have at least three digits on the price tag. All your furniture should be vintage. And as for that hunk of junk outside, go to the dealership and trade it for something with an Italian name. You might drain your savings doing this, but you don't need that money anymore."

"Yes, sir"

"Next, you're going to quit your job. Your friends, any clubs you were part of, any sports, it's all going away. You're not even going to say goodbye. Take your phone and throw it away."

"Yes, sir"

"Good. Once you've done all that, you're going to pay a visit to me." I handed him a card, "This is where I live. You'll be spending a good deal of your time here from now on. You'll get the chance to meet your new colleagues, other men like you who have come under my employ through one circumstance or another. They'll make sure to give you a warm welcome, as well as explain the duties and regulations you'll be expected to obey. Does that all sound good?"

"Yes, sir" In his eyes I saw total obedience, not just a desire to follow my orders but a love for my orders. He’ll make a good boy. Particularly malleable, ready to be shaped into a fun new mold.

"Good, now stand up."

He stood up and looked at me eye-to-eye again. Any of the previous cockiness was gone. I silently admired my handiwork to myself. This was a particularly troublesome man, and I had done a good job getting him into this shape. I thought about making some clever remark to him about the change he’d undergone, but my tongue had already got me into enough trouble today. So instead, I just looked at him and smirked.

He looked down, embarrassed and aroused by the power I held over him. He walked off in an extremely rigid, formal walk, picking up trash to throw away. I walked out of his home and back towards my car, where my chauffeur was ready to take me back to my home. I’d alert my other boys that they’d be expecting a new arrival tonight, and then the fun will really begin.

#preppy #preppy tf #preppytf #stepfordization #gaytf #reality change #outfit change

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idesofrevolution · 2 years ago

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The Future of Ides

I am beyond pissed that I have to make this fucking post. But I’m at an impasse with the state of Tumblr and the tf community at large lately.

The continued degradation of the fundamental virtues of equity, human decency, and respect are becoming more and more scarce. After I made the first “Let’s Talk Honestly” post, I immediately noticed an uptick in false flags against my content, which I cannot dismiss as mere coincidence. Since I responded to an ask which was in support of my statements, just last night, I have received 7 new flags consecutively. All appeals have been denied: for the sake of brevity, I’ll just post one of the denials here.

This is a direct retaliatory effort against me. And when the very reason I am on Tumblr is being attacked and censored, I have no recourse. Tumblr is entirely disinterested in following their own content policies, and would rather blanket flag and take down anything that is flagged by the community or by algorithm without review or reasoning as to why. I have reached out to tumblr, and their response was a copy and paste customer service jargon that in essence said: “we know it’s a problem, we have no plans to address it.”

This puts me and my content in a predicament. I can either stay and try to continue posting with extreme limits on what I’m able to say and do, with trolls from within our own community actively seeking in a coordinated effort to destroy the blog. Or, I can go. The community at large has tried to clean up their own blogs and block those who are supportive of bigoted and pedophilic content, as have I, to little or no avail. I am at 5k followers at this time and I do not have the resources or energy to curate that base of readers. Thus, after this upcoming story, which will in all likelihood end up flagged and unable to be read, I cannot say whether or not Ides will continue.

This space has been safe for me for 13 years to express myself and write stories of transformation both outward and inward. I have tried to and succeeded in building a community of like minded folks who understand and appreciate the medium of erotic fiction with my rather niche subject matter. And while there have absolutely been bumps along the way, I have not faced adversity at this level ever before on this platform. I am for the first time unable to see a realistic solution to the issues faced, and it is a crushing blow to know that one of the few outlets for my creativity and expression is now reduced to what it is today. Not even the great purge was this difficult.

I will be looking into finding a new home for Ides, and my content at large. I will probably end up heading to blogspot and what you will see moving forward on this blog are links to the stories instead of reading them here on Tumblr. I am painfully aware of how much less of interaction and community involvement this will be, but in all truthfulness, it’s gone from a cathartic outlet to a miserable and soul sucking void.

To those who coordinated this effort against me: you win. Whatever disgusting, vile, hateful behaviors you continue to poison the tf community with are entirely on you. And what it devolves into is entirely on you. And the eventual censorship and destruction of the community is entirely on you.

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gravity-falls-dreamer · 2 months ago

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Gravity Falls: Dreamer Chapter 2: Carnival

“Come on, Dipper! Hurry up!” Mabel shouted as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “I don't want to miss the freaky carnival that rolled into town!”

"Alright, Mabel, just a second!" Dipper grumbled, struggling with his shoes. "A carnival appears out of nowhere and suddenly it's a must-see. It's probably cursed or something."

Dipper hurried after his sister, nearly tripping in his haste to reach Stan's old car where Mabel was already waiting.

Hearing the commotion, Evalin emerged from the hallway into the foyer, narrowly avoiding a collision with Dipper, who apologized quickly before dashing outside. She noticed Stan in front of the foyer mirror, looking surprisingly dapper in a dark gray suit and brown shoes, an 8-ball topped cane under his arm.

“Wow, you clean up nice,” Evalin teased. “What's the occasion?”

“I guess some crazy carnival rolled into town overnight while we were all sleeping,” Stan responded with a grin. “The whole town's buzzing. Plenty of folks to swindle. Why don't you go spread the word or somethin', eh? Make yourself useful.”

Evalin let out a nervous laugh before waving him off. “I think I'll start with breakfast first. Have you guys eaten yet?” she asked, heading towards the kitchen.

“I'm sure the kids probably had cereal or somethin',” Stan shrugged as he got his tie just right. “Hey, if you see Sixer today, tell him we went off to town, would ya? I'm sure he is down in his lab doing whatever nerdy thing he does. Well, I'm off to make my fortune! See ya!” Stan announced with a clap, striding towards his car where Dipper and Mabel were yelling at him to hurry up or they'd miss all the fun.

The old car rattled down the road towards the town. From a distance, Dipper and Mabel could already spot the carnival attractions, but as they approached, the bustling crowd revealed how much busier it was up close. The townsfolk's expressions mixed excitement with a hint of apprehension. Although carnivals were typically about wholesome family fun, this one had clearly seen better days. The rides and booths were dilapidated, the paint peeling and the structures creaking ominously. A large Ferris wheel stood in the background, its seats swaying gently with the breeze, while the carnival music played a slightly discordant tune.

Stan parked the car and retrieved a folding table from the trunk, his face lighting up with nostalgia. "Ah, this takes me back to my childhood!"

"Grunkle Stan, this place is kinda creepy," Dipper remarked, following with boxes in tow.

Stan waved off the concern with a chuckle. "It's just an old, mysterious carnival that popped up overnight without any warning. Sure, it looks a bit rundown, but that’s all part of its charm. It’s old-fashioned, just like me!"

"Definitely on the 'old' part," Mabel whispered to Dipper, barely suppressing her laughter so that Stan couldn’t hear.

They quickly found a spot to set up, and Stan wasted no time unfolding the table and arranging a display of Mystery Shack merchandise, topped with a large sign that beckoned to passersby. Before long, the stall resembled a mini Mystery Shack.

“Grunkle Stan, I thought you gave the Mystery Shack to Soos? Why are you out here trying to sell stuff from the shack?” Dipper asked as he picked up a bobble head.

"I did, but you can take the mystery out of the man, but not the man out of the money-making," Stan quoted with a grin. Dipper gave him a puzzled look, prompting Stan to add, "I like money, kid. And besides, I still get a cut of the profits, so it's a win for me."

Mabel started to jump up and down as she got Stan's attention. “Okay, okay, we helped set up the booth for you. Can we go now? Pleeeeease?”” she asked, clearly excited to go explore the carnival.

Stan waved them off nonchalantly, and the twins dashed into the throng. Mabel beelined for a ring toss game, while Dipper seized the chance to interrogate some carnival workers.

“So, where did you guys come from? How come we didn't hear you guys setting up overnight? There wasn't an announcement about a carnival coming to town until this morning. Seems like bad business practice,” Dipper rambled. The carnival worker, a younger looking man adorned with an old-fashioned striped carnival outfit, grumbled and rolled his eyes at Dipper's barrage of questions.

“Hey, Dipper! Mabel!” a voice called out above the crowd. The twins turned to see Evalin, dressed in a chic simple black dress and her hat on her head, approach them with a basket in her arms.

"Oh, hey," Dipper said, his voice tinged with unease. Evalin smiled warmly as she handed each of them a large muffin and a bottle of milk.

"I made these for you guys," she explained. "Stanley said you only had cereal for breakfast, so I thought I’d make you something a little more filling."

"Ooh! These look amazing!" Mabel exclaimed as she took a huge bite of the muffin and chewed with delight.

"Geez, Mabel! At least say thank you!" Dipper scolded at his sister. "Sorry about that. She really likes sweets. Like, really really likes sweets. Thanks from both of us."

"It's no trouble at all," Evalin replied, her smile lingering. "I'm glad she enjoys them." After a pause, she added, "Speaking of Stanley, have you seen him? I'd like to give him a muffin too."

Dipper pointed to the booth where Stan was doing a salesman pitch. Evalin gave them a quick nod before excusing herself to go over to Stan's booth.

"Step right up, folks! Don’t miss out on the chance to own a piece of the truly unique, the utterly unexplainable, the absolutely unbelievable—Mystery Shack merchandise! From bobbleheads that bobble with mysterious purpose, to t-shirts that might just change your luck, every item is a conversation starter. Deals like these don’t come around often. Get your magical and mysterious souvenirs before they disappear like yesterday’s dreams. Come see for yourself, and remember, every purchase is an investment in wonder!" Stan's voice bellowed out above the crowd. He watched as Evalin approached, basket in hand. “For the pretty hobbit lady, you can have a 5% discount!”

Evalin giggled and shook her head. "As much as I’d love to take you up on that offer, I only have breakfast for you," she replied, pulling out a muffin and milk from her basket. Stan grinned broadly as he accepted them.

"How’s business?" Evalin inquired with genuine interest.

"Eh, could be better," Stan admitted with a shrug. "With all these crazy attractions around, it’s tough to grab people’s attention." He took a big bite of the muffin, his eyes widened in surprise. "Wow! These are pretty damn good! You could sell these, y'know?" he remarked, crumbs tumbling from his lips. "I'd know. After all, I am the best salesman around!"

"Thank you, Stanley. I’m glad you like them," Evalin chuckled. "But I only made enough for you guys, so it looks like everyone else will have to go hungry."

"Damn, too bad for them. These are really damn good," Stan said as he finished the last of his muffin and quickly downed the milk. "They’re definitely missing out on some top-tier stuff."

"Thanks!" he added with a proud grin. "I feel like I could rip people off so much faster now!"

"What?" a passing tourist called out as he overheard Stan. Stan and Evalin exchanged a brief glance.

"You didn't hear squat, ham-bone," Stan grumbled. The tourist shot him a dirty look before walking away. Evalin couldn’t help but giggle at the exchange, and Stan, confused, felt his face warm.

"You thought that was funny?" he asked.

"Ham-bone? Really?” Evalin chuckled. “Besides, did you see the look on his face? Priceless." Stan beamed at the compliment, pleased.

"Well, if you thought that was funny, check out that guy over there," Stan said and pointed to a man with an unusual nose. "Hey, potato nose! Where'd you come from? The potato farm?"

Evalin burst out laughing, her amusement filling the air as Stan reveled in being the center of attention, especially when he could make someone laugh. Surprisingly, Evalin seemed to genuinely appreciate his humor. After a few moments, Evalin managed to regain her composure.

"Here, let me help with your booth. Got a pen and paper?" she asked while she wiped a tear from her eye. Stan glanced around and found a napkin and a pen, handing them to her.

Evalin leaned over the table and quickly drew an odd symbol on the napkin and poked it before handing it back to him. "You got a lighter?"

"Uh, yeah?" Stan pulled out his trusty Zippo.

"When you’re ready, light that sigil on fire," Evalin instructed, her voice steady. Stan looked at her, confused. She put her hand up and added, "please trust me.”

"Lady, I don’t trust anyone, but I do like to light things on fire," Stan said with a grin. He flicked open the lighter and set the napkin alight.

As the fire consumed the symbol, a sudden rush of customers surrounded the booth, eager to buy merchandise. Stan was almost overwhelmed by the influx of sales, while Evalin stood off to the side, watching the chaos unfold with a quiet giggle, satisfied with her work.

“What the hell?” Dipper responded as he watched the entire scene unfold from a distance. “Mabel, did you see that?”

“See what?” Mabel said as she walked up with a giant cone of cotton candy that was bigger than her head.

“Of course you didn't,” Dipper groaned. "Evalin gave Grunkle Stan some paper, he set it on fire, and then suddenly, he was swarmed by customers. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

“Maybe the fire attracted them? Everyone loves a good fire show!” Mabel suggested, though Dipper remained skeptical.

“No, there is definitely something paranormal going on here and we should investigate,” he insisted, starting to head over, but Mabel grabbed his arm.

“Hey, bro, look!” She pointed to a carny walking into a tent that said 'Employees Only', carrying a small, seemingly unconscious Gorney in his arms.

“What the actual hell?” Dipper gasped, momentarily distracted from the earlier mystery. He quickly motioned his sister to follow him into the 'Employees Only' tent.

The twins slipped into the tent after the carny. Inside, they found a space that was much larger than its exterior suggested. The interior was dimly lit, with only a faint light at the far end of a long, cobweb-strewn hallway. Moving cautiously, they tiptoed toward the light, stopping at a threshold concealed by a curtain. They peeked through a small gap.

The room beyond was eerily silent and strangely unsettling. A haunting echo of children's screams seemed to emanate from the walls, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Shelves lined the walls, filled with empty jars.

“Dipper, look!” Mabel whispered urgently.

Dipper's gaze followed her finger and spotted the carny from earlier, although now he looked different, almost transparent with a faint green glow around him. In his arms lay Gorney. The worker carefully placed the child in the center of a large circle drawn on the floor. He then raised his arms, and Gorney began to levitate just off the ground. Suddenly, a blinding light burst forth from the Gorney's chest, shooting upward and ricocheting around the room.

The carny grabbed an empty jar from a shelf and opened it. The light zipped into the jar, continuing to bounce within as faint, muffled screams emanated from it. After securing the lid tightly, Gorney's glowing form faded to transparency and then disappeared entirely. With the jar in hand, the carnival worker vanished through a door at the back of the room.

“Oh man, poor Gorney!” Mabel whispered, covering her mouth.

Dipper’s heart pounded in his chest, unsure what he just witnessed. "Mabel, we have to get out of here and get help," he whispered urgently. Without another word, the twins turned and sprinted back down the hallway.

As they reached the tent's entrance, they sprinted toward Stan's booth, but a sharp, mechanical voice halted them. "You there! Young Tree Twins!" it called out. Turning, the twins saw a fortune teller, a tall figure draped in gypsy garb, confined within a small wooden booth. Her crystal ball flickered with a cheap, artificial light, casting an eerie glow. There was something unsettlingly robotic about her demeanor, yet an inexplicable force drew them closer.

“Listen, lady, we are in a hurry here and don't have any time for-” Dipper started, but Mabel cut him off excitedly.

“Tell me how many boyfriends I'll have in the near future!” Mabel chirped.

“Mabel!” Dipper chided.

“What? I'm not going to waste this opportunity!” Mabel retorted. Before Dipper could say anything more, the fortune teller responded. The crystal ball flickered briefly before the fortune teller answered flatly.

“Four.”

Mabel's eyes widened, a twinkle forming in each as her grin stretched. “Four,” she repeated, delighted by the prediction. Dipper massaged his temples, exasperated, before turning back to the fortune teller.

"Look, lady, whether you're human or robot, we're really in a rush to find our Grunkle, so we're just gonna—" he started, but the fortune teller cut in with a cryptic warning.

“Listen and heed, boy:

The time comes soon, it fast approaches

From the mind that's filled with roaches.

The soul that has lost something which can't be found

Will release a power that is heavily bound.”

Dipper stared, bewildered. "Wait, is this about the carnival? Is something going to happen here?" he asked, his voice tinged with panic.

"Oh, my stars, no," the fortune teller chuckled dismissively. "But beware here:

A man wants to fill the hole of loss for in this place, he is the boss.

For what he wishes for, there's a heavy toll. The price he must pay is that of one's s-” Suddenly, there was a loud crash as a jolt of electricity surged through the fortune teller's body. She froze, silent, her eyes blank. After a few moments, she powered back on, as if nothing happened.

“Huh, I guess she really was a robot,” Mabel said as she tilted her head.

“Um, hello?” Dipper asked, hesitant. The fortune teller's eyes blinked before focusing on him, her gaze almost human.

“Hello, child. Would you like me to tell you your fortune?” she asked, her voice soft and mechanical. Before Dipper could reply, her robotic jaw clattered to the floor, and her body began to slump.

Dipper recoiled. "Uh, no thanks," he said quickly, seizing Mabel's hand. They hurried away, eager to escape the eerie fortune teller. They ducked into a tent marked "Mirror Maze."

"AH!" Dipper yelped as he froze, staring at a figure that looked just like him.

"Geez, Dipper, it’s just a mirror," Mabel said, unimpressed, and started making silly faces at her reflection.

Dipper edged back, his anxiety mounting. "We need to leave," he insisted, turning to find the exit only to be confronted by more mirrors. His panic spiked. He reached for Mabel's hand, but found only air. "Mabel? Mabel! Where are you?!"

Desperately, Dipper backed into one of the mirrors, only to feel a firm grip on his shoulders. Spinning around, he came face-to-face with... himself. But not quite. This version of Dipper was entirely reflective, like the mirrors themselves. As Dipper's eyes darted to other mirrors, he saw even more disturbing versions of himself: one of him looked like a zombie with part of his brain exposed; another Dipper appeared to be melting, as if made of wax in the scorching sun; and another was completely encased in a tree. Each version of himself stepped out of their respective mirrors and began to close in on him, surrounding him on all sides.

In panic, Dipper reached out for help, but his screams became muffled as he was engulfed by the pile of Dippers.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, a hand grabbed his and yanked him out of the suffocating mass. Mabel, battered with bruises and cuts, pulled him toward the entrance.

"Woah, Mabel! What happened to you?!" Dipper exclaimed, his voice filled with panic as he checked her over.

"Bro, all these other Mabels came out of the mirrors and started beating the crap out of me! They looked like me, but they were... so different! This place is totally cray-cray!" Mabel paused for a moment. “Although, one of them had a super cute sweater that I think I'm going to have to make now.”

"Come on, Mabel! We need to warn everyone to get away from this crazy place!" Dipper exclaimed.

The twins dashed through the carnival, arriving breathless at Stan's booth where he was busy selling merchandise and playfully ribbing tourists, much to Evalin's delight. However, upon spotting Dipper and Mabel, Stan’s jovial demeanor vanished. He hurried around the table, parting the crowd to reach his great-niece and nephew.

“Woah! What the hell happened?!” Stan demanded, his eyes wide with shock.

"Grunkle Stan, there’s something seriously wrong with this place!" Dipper exclaimed. "We saw the employees performing some sort of ritual, but they’re not even human—they're like... spectral beings! We saw them kidnap Gorney, who was passed out for some reason, and they extracted some light out of his chest!"

“Yeah!” Mabel added, her voice rising in panic. “Then we went into the Mirror Maze where there was a bunch of Mabels that popped out of the mirrors and started to beat the crap out of me! I barely got out in time to find Dipper and escape!"

Listening intently, Stan’s expression darkened. "The Mirror Maze, huh?" he growled, fists tightening. "Well, I'm about to rack up a whole bunch of bad luck by breaking mirrors, because NO ONE messes with my pumpkin!" With that, he charged toward the maze, a battle cry echoing behind him.

Dipper went to follow but Evalin placed a hand on his shoulder, gently stopping him as she shook her head. “I think it would be best if we didn't disturb him on this one. He is a man on a mission right now. Let's focus on figuring out what's going on here. First, can you show me the tent where the 'spectral beings' were performing their ritual?”

“Uh, that one,” Dipper said, skepticism laced his voice as he pointed to the tent marked “Employees Only”

“Perfect,” Evalin replied with a determined tone. "Pack up Stanley’s booth. It looks like we’re done here." She navigated through the crowd effortlessly, untouched by anyone. Dipper turned his focus to the booth.

"Alright, folks, the Mystery Shack booth is now closed," he announced, ushering people away.

"You don't have to leave, but you can't stay here!" Mabel added, playfully waving her arms to disperse the crowd. The visitors reluctantly began to leave, their disappointment palpable.

After the twins finished packing up the booth, Evalin returned with a handful of unusual herbs that Dipper and Mabel hadn't seen before.

"Mabel, come here, please," Evalin called. Mabel approached, and Evalin inspected her wounds. She chewed the herbs into a paste and applied it to Mabel’s cuts. With a circle of her finger, the cut began to glow. Soon, the wound closed in an instant.

“Ew, gross!” Mabel exclaimed, but her disgust quickly turned to amazement. “Hey, it's gone! Thanks, Evi!”

"I'm just glad you're okay," Evalin responded, smiling warmly.

Dipper watched with a mix of awe and suspicion. "How did you do that?" he asked, scrutinizing his sister's now flawless arm.

Evalin continued her work on Mabel, unaffected by his scrutiny. "Just something I’ve learned over the years," she explained simply.

Before Dipper could probe further, a sudden scream cut through the air. "Oh my god! There's a fire!" someone yelled. They all turned to see flames engulfing the 'Employees Only' tent. Dipper turned his attention to Evalin who pulled her hat down over her eyes so she didn't meet his gaze.

Stan reappeared, covered in cuts and looking as though he had just battled a wild animal, his clothes torn and skin scratched. He watched as people scurried around, trying to put out the fire.

“Woah, what's going on over there?” he asked, pointing toward the burning tent.

"Um, I think it’s best we leave," Evalin suggested quickly, urging them to grab their things. They loaded the car, and Evalin prepared another batch of her herbal paste.

She reached out to apply the mixture to Stan's wounds, but he jerked back. "Whoa, crazy lady! That was just in your mouth!" he protested.

"Relax," she said, frowning slightly. "This will help prevent infection."

"Grunkle Stan, let her do it! She healed my cuts too," Mabel encouraged, pointing to where her wound had been. Stan eyed her skeptically before giving Evalin a reluctant nod. Smiling, Evalin chewed more herbs and applied the paste to his cuts. Stan shuddered as the mixture seeped in, but, just like Mabel's, his wounds healed rapidly.

"There, that should do it," Evalin said, patting his shoulder. "Sorry I can’t numb the pain, but at least this will keep you from getting infected."

"I suppose I should thank you, I guess… So thanks for being gross!" Stan grumbled, half-smiling.

Evalin couldn't help but to laugh. "Grunkle Stan, you can’t just call people gross! That’s rude," Mabel scolded.

"It’s okay, he’s not wrong," Evalin conceded with a laugh, though her expression soon turned serious. "Dipper, about those employees you mentioned—what exactly did you see them doing?"

Dipper took a deep breath before explaining. "There was a carny who took Gorney into that tent, the one that was probably set on fire by you, we will circle back to that another time, and performed some kind of ritual on him to extract a light from his chest. That light freaked out, flying all around the room. Then the carny captured it in a jar, and after that, Gorney just vanished."

Evalin frowned, deep in thought. "Hmm, I might have an idea of what's happening here, but we should talk to one of the carnies to get more information," she murmured, completely ignoring Dipper trying to call her out.

"One creepy carny coming right up!" Stan declared, puffing out his chest. He approached the carny responsible for admissions, cupping his hand over his mouth. "Hey, punk! We've got questions!"

Noticing the determined look in their eyes, the carny tried to escape, but Stan was quick and tackled him to the ground. "Oh, no you don't!" Stan shouted, pinning him down.

"Hey! What the hell is your problem, old man!?" the worker yelled.

Evalin stepped forward, her face shadowed by her hat, and pressed her boot against the carny's hand. A mysterious green glow enveloped his body, revealing his true nature. The carny's alarm was evident, his cover blown.

"Listen, spirit," Evalin commanded firmly. "Tell us who's controlling you. Where is the puppet master here?"

Under Stan's weight, the glowing carny struggled briefly before resigning. "Alright, alright! It's the Ringmaster, Mr. Destori!" he confessed desperately. "He's got us all roped into soul gathering. Please, lady, we're just lowly spirits. Let me go!"

Evalin's expression softened as she knelt beside him, placing her hand on his head. "So be it," she murmured. A bright silver light flared from her hand, illuminating the area.

As soon as the ethereal words left her mouth, the carny faded away, sending Stan tumbling face-first into the ground with a thud. Dipper and Mabel looked up at Evalin who's face was unreadable for a moment.

"Whoa, what did you do?" Mabel asked, her eyes wide.

"I did as he requested; I set him free," Evalin replied, her demeanor softening.

"A little warning next time would be nice," Stan grumbled as he got up, brushing the dirt from himself. "Ugh, I got dirt in my mouth."

"We'll need to circle back to that later," Dipper interjected, shifting the focus back to their original concern. "Did you hear what that guy said? We need to find the Ringmaster. We probably should have asked where this Ringmaster is before letting that spirit go."

“Uh, Dipper?” Mabel pointed towards a trailer parked right outside the entrance labeled “Ringmaster”.

“I hate everything right now,” Dipper sighed, slapping his forehead as they made their way toward the trailer.

Stan led the charge, knocking firmly on the trailer door. The door swung open to reveal a large man, his attire flamboyant—a bright red, blue, and gold striped tailcoat and ribbons cascading from an oversized top hat, his theatrical appearance completed by rosy cheeks and a broad, unsettlingly jolly smile.

"Well, hello there, good folks! How can I assist you on this fine evening?" he greeted warmly.

“We have some questions if you have time, Ringmaster,” Evalin said, her voice smooth yet commanding. The Ringmaster chuckled, a twinkle in his eye, and gestured for them to come inside.

The trailer's interior was a surreal mix of luxury and decay, lit dimly by a dusty chandelier. The air was thick with the scents of incense, leather, cigar smoke, and a faint mustiness.

"Smells like Grunkle Stan’s room," Mabel whispered to Dipper, barely stifling her laughter.

At the heart of the trailer, an ornate desk cluttered with oddities—playing cards, a tarnished pocket watch, bones, charms, and a cracked crystal ball—sat behind a velvet armchair. Heavy curtains draped the windows, sealing off any natural light.

"If I'd known I'd have guests, I would've tidied up a bit!" the Ringmaster joked, rubbing his neck.

“That won't be necessary, sir,” Evalin replied firmly as she locked eyes with him. “I have only one question, if you will. What are you doing with the souls you've stolen, beast?”

The Ringmaster visibly paled, tugging at his collar. “What? I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered, his composure completely slipping under Evalin’s icy stare.

“Someone should really knock out your teeth for lying like that,” Evalin retorted sharply, then nodded subtly at Stan. He understood the signal immediately.

“Finally, a reason to punch a carny!” Stan exclaimed, and with a swift motion, he sent the Ringmaster sprawling to the floor with a solid right hook.

“Whoa! I don’t think we need to start beating him up, guys!” Mabel intervened, her eyes wide.

However, the Ringmaster rose, his now glowing green body floating slightly, green ooze dripping from his mouth. He spat it out with a sneer, his friendly demeanor gone. "Really? That’s how you want to play?" he growled. A gust of wind began swirling, gathering strength and forcing them closer together. “Let’s see how you handle my underground Maze of Death!”

“That is such a lame stereotypical name!” Mabel shouted over the gust.

The Ringmaster growled. Frustrated, he yanked the run out from under them, revealing a large, gaping hole. With a collective yell, Dipper, Mabel, Evalin, and Stan plummeted into the darkness below. As they fell, Evalin and Stan were able to grab the kids, pulling them close before they hit the ground hard. Evalin landed on her back with a pain yelp while Stan was able to take the landing well.

“Whoa, Evi! Are you okay?” Mabel asked, concerned as she got off of her. Evalin used the wall to slowly get to her feet, dusting herself off and adjusting her hat.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she replied, rolling her shoulder. “I'm tougher than I look.”

“That's great and all, but how do we get out of this dark hellhole?” Stan muttered, peering up into the darkness above them.

“Looks like we fell right into the Ringmaster’s trap,” Dipper groaned.

“Literally,” Mabel added with a sigh.

The area around them was pitch black. With a quick snap of her fingers, Evalin summoned a small flame from her fingertip, illuminating a narrow, chilly hallway just tall enough for them to walk through. She covered her hand slightly so they couldn't see where the flame was coming from. Suddenly, a loud, booming voice echoed through the air.

“Now you are all trapped in my newly named Maze of Lost Souls.... forever!” the Ringmaster taunted.

Mabel rolled her eyes. “Still a lame name! Try not going with cliché villain names!” she shouted, her voice echoing into the distance.

“Mabel, how about not antagonizing the entity that has us trapped here, huh?” Dipper chided as he pulled out his flashlight from his vest pocket.

“Alright, listen up,” Evalin interjected. “We need to find the source of his power that way we can break the Ringmaster's grip on this place. Look for glowing spots in the walls. That'll lead us where we need to go.”

Before they could take a step, Dipper held up his hands to stop them. “How do you even know that? Just who the hell are you?” he demanded, looking at her intently.

Evalin sighed, meeting his determined gaze. “Listen, Dipper, I'm just trying to get us out of here and hopefully save your Gorney friend, alright?” she said in a calming tone. “Please, just trust me.”

“Dipper, she seems to know what she’s talking about, and she has a plan,” Mabel supported. “What other choice do we have?”

Dipper looked to Stan for guidance, who shrugged. “Hey, I’m just as confused as you are, kid. But I’m with Mabel on this one. Let’s let the weird forest lady work her magic and get us out of here, yeah?”

Evalin stiffened a little before looking over at Dipper. “Please, just let me get you out of here and I will tell you some of my survival stories, okay?”

Dipper didn't respond right away. He stared her down before nodding, trusting her for the time being. Stan barked out a laugh and slapped Dipper on the back hard enough to make him lurch forward. “Kid, if you just wanna hear some survival stories, I can tell you a million of them! Did I ever tell you kids about the time I survived by navigating through a swamp using nothing more than three rubber chickens and a harmonica? Let me tell you, that was not a good time!”

They began walking the dimly lit halls, listening to Stan's exaggerated tales as they moved. His tales surprisingly kept up their spirits, making Evalin chuckle from time to time. It was hard to tell if she believed him or not but it didn't matter. Even Mabel cracked in some jokes to keep the mood light.

After a while, Evalin suddenly stopped everyone in their tracks, narrowing her eyes as if she sensed something. “Wait! Here's something,” she exclaimed, pointing at the wall.

“I don't see anything,” Dipper said, squinting.

“Look closer,” Evalin urged, confused why he didn't see what she saw. Dipper leaned in, inspecting the wall, but still didn't notice anything unusual. Evalin shook her hand, the flame fizzling out before she rubbed her hand down her face.

“Oh, right,” she murmured. She put her hand on the dirt wall and started to dig. Mabel soon jumped in to help, chanting, “Diggy diggy hole!”

Dipper aimed his flashlight at Evalin as she dug fervently, her hands growing increasingly raw. He scanned the area for something to aid her but came up empty. With a deep breath, he let out a battle cry and hurled himself against the dirt wall. Everyone's eyes widened as Dipper broke through.

“Damn, kid!” Stan applauded. “Nice one! That's how you do it!”

“Look at you go, bro-bro!” Mabel added, following him through the new opening.

Evalin smirked at Dipper, a playful lilt in her tone. “I'm taking some credit. I did dig most of the way through,” she said, wiping her hands on her dress.

“But I'm the one who actually broke through,” Dipper grumbled.

Ignoring Dipper's comment, they all ducked through the gap and discovered a room on the other side. It was furnished with a bed, toys, and numerous open jars near the corner. In the center of the room, a small child floated just above the carpet.

The child, with a round face and faintly glowing green skin, was trying to open a jar, unaware of their presence until Mabel spoke up.

“Hey, there's a kid in here!” Mabel's voice made the ghostly child jump, almost dropping the jar.

“Ah! Please don't take me away!” the ghost child shrieked, his hands trembling.

Evalin held up her hands gently. “Hey there, little guy. What are you doing in a spooky place like this?” she asked gently, but the child recoiled. Turning to Mabel for help, Evalin suggested, “Hey, you've got a gift for talking to people, right? You're a cute girl. Could you try talking to him?”

Mabel stepped forward, her voice cheerful. “Hello, friend! This is a nice deep underground hideout you got going on here. What's a little guy like you doing down here all by yourself?”

The child hesitated, his glow dimming as he looked at her. “I... I just wanted friends. It's so lonely here. Daddy sends me friends, but they never stay long.” He hesitated as he looked at Mabel and then over at Dipper. “You seem different. Are you here to play with me?” the child asked, hopeful.

Mabel half shrugged. “Sure, kid, we would love to! However, we need to get back home first. Do you know the way out?”

The child's face scrunched up, hurt turning to anger. “I thought you were here for me! I don't want you to leave me here alone! I DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE ANYMORE!” he shrieked, causing the ground and walls to shake violently.

“Hey! Hey! She didn't say we couldn't play, man!” Dipper interjected, trying to calm the child. “If you help us out, we can come back and play with you, for sure!”

Dipper glanced at Evalin, mouthing, 'Get us out of here!'

“Well, I'm not playing with this little bast-” Stan began, only to be silenced by Mabel's elbow.

The shaking ceased and the child eyed them uncertainly. “Really? You would come back and play with me?”

“Of course! We are buddies now!” Mabel assured him with a bright smile. The child scrutinized them for a moment as if assessing their sincerity, then returned the smile.

“Alright! Follow me!” he instructed as he floated towards a door on the far wall, still carrying the jar from before. As they traveled, Evalin leaned down towards Dipper.

“Hey, is that your Gorney friend?” she asked in a whisper. Dipper looked past her to see the jar clearly. Inside indeed was Gorney, his round face glowing within the bright light of the jar. Dipper met Evalin's gaze and gave a subtle nod. Evalin focused on the jar, silently formulating a plan to retrieve it.

They trailed the ghost child through a labyrinth of turns until they reached a corridor bathed in a faint light from the end. The child stopped and pointed toward the light.

“There you go,” he chimed playfully. “The land of the living!”

“Oh, thank god, I can't wait to see the sun again,” Mabel said, hurrying forward. But Evalin grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She traced her finger along the wall and around the frame of the opening, then reached up to tug at its edge. A ripping sound echoed through the corridor as she peeled back a dark void that obscured their path.

“Aw, man! You figured it out!” the ghost child laughed as he floated in place, kicking his feet playfully. “I wanted to keep you here with me FOREVER!”

Unable to contain his frustration any longer, Dipper lashed out with a right hook, striking the ghost child squarely in the face. Everyone froze, their eyes wide in shock. Stan and Mabel quickly recovered, their initial horror turning into excitement.

“FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!” they chanted, fists pumping in the air.

Evalin raised an eyebrow, her tone incredulous. “Really, Dipper? Beating up a little ghost kid?”

Realizing the gravity of his actions, Dipper's heart sank. He looked down at the ghost child, who was now whimpering softly. "Oh, uh... sorry, buddy. I think I went too far," he stammered, a wave of guilt washing over him.

The ghost child spat up some ectoplasm, standing shakily as tears welled in his eyes.

“Nonsense!” Stan chimed in, clapping Dipper on the back. “That little bastard was about to get us all killed! He had it coming! I just wish I had thrown the punch myself! Nice work, kid. Give him one more quick jab for your Grunkle Stan, would ya?”

Before Dipper could respond, a loud, booming voice echoed through the hall. "HOW DARE YOU LAY A HAND ON MY SON!" The Ringmaster appeared suddenly, his presence commanding as he scooped the ghost child into his arms. He inspected his son for injuries, then turned a fierce glare on the group.

“Dude, come on! He was literally trying to kill us!” Dipper shouted.

Evalin swiftly moved to intercept, gliding across the space with a lightness that made it seem as though her feet barely grazed the floor. She closed the gap to the ghosts quicker than they could comprehend, gently placing her hand on each of them before she began to speak.

As soon as the ethereal words left her mouth, a brilliant flash of light enveloped the room, and the ghostly figures of the Ringmaster and the child vanished with an anguished cry. When Dipper, Mabel, and Stan finally dared to open their eyes, they found that the ghosts had disappeared. Evalin stood alone, calm and composed, in the space where the specters had just been.

“How did you—?” Dipper began, but his question was cut off by a violent shaking of the ground.

“The spirits that were binding this place are gone, and this maze is collapsing!” Evalin yelled over the rumble. “We need to get out of here, now!”

As they turned to run, Dipper glanced back to see the void in the ground had vanished. Not wanting Dipper to fixate on the missing hole, Evalin quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him along, moving at a pace he struggled to match. They narrowly escaped as the tunnels crumbled behind them. Catching their breath outside, they realized they were just outside the carnival, or what remained of it, as flames engulfed most of the structures.

“Oh, yeah. Totally forgot about that fire,” Evalin muttered under her breath, adjusting her hat. “Oops.”

“We didn't even figure out the mystery behind all of that crazy ghost carnival biz!” Mabel lamented, throwing her hands up in frustration. Stan cleared his throat, pulling a weathered newspaper clipping from his pocket.

“Hey, uh, I grabbed this while we were in that maniac's trailer,” he explained, handing it to Dipper, who began to read aloud:

**Missing Children After Carnival Accident:**

Following the incident where children began to vanish in the Mirror Maze, The Enchanted Carnival closed down. Ringmaster Lugini Destori expressed regret for the lost children, stating, [“We are deeply saddened for the lost souls of those lovely children. May they safely find their way home. We are officially closing down the carnival until the children are found!”]

Destori’s body was later found by the roadside, covered in blood, and his carnival destroyed. The missing children were never found, and the investigation went cold. Police had no leads, though bones—believed to belong to the Ringmaster’s son, the first disappearance—were found on the carnival’s original grounds. This discovery could not be officially linked to the other disappearances.

“Hey! Isn’t that the ghost kid we saw?” Mabel asked, pointing at a picture of Destori’s son in the clipping. They all crowded around Dipper to see.

“Sure as shit looks like it,” Stan confirmed, peering at the photo with narrowed eyes.

“Another case of tortured souls,” Evalin murmured regretfully.

“Speaking of tortured souls, we didn’t even save Gorney!” Dipper suddenly realized. Evalin turned away briefly, fiddling with her dress, then faced them again, holding out the jar containing Gorney’s soul. Dipper stared, astonished. “When did you—?”

“Before the ghosts vanished, I managed to snag the jar to save your Gorney friend,” Evalin explained, her smile bright. She twisted the lid open, releasing a burst of light that was trapped inside. The light fluttered around before zipping toward the remnants of the carnival and diving into the ground where the 'Employees Only' tent once stood. Suddenly, Gorney’s head popped up from the ashes, a bright smile on his face as he threw his hands up.

"I've been twaumatized!"

< Chapter 1 // Chapter 3 >

#fan fiction #fanfic #gffanfic #mystical writing #dipper pines #dipperandmabel #grunkle ford #grunkle stan #mabel pines #mysterytwins #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls #dreamer

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auntbibby · 1 month ago

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i wrote chapter 2 to this scifi furry empty spaces story. its on deviantart here & furaffinity here. its inspired by living in psych wards and group homes as a person who has violent meltdowns.

i remember the stomping of boots. sounds of harsh movement; thick clothing thrashing thru my bedroom door. sleep paralysis giving way to waking up giving way to fear. then a loud blinking noise as a sharp pain in my neck put me back to sleep.

ohhh…. that nightmare again. i turned over in my giant doggy nest and licked my muzzle. that was the night the canadian government kidnapped me and took me here. my last memory of my normal human life.

the government had predicted using their internet algorithms that i was just about to turn anomalous. so they faked my death with a 3d printed corpse. i still wonder what my parents thought of me “dying”. they were probly very sad.

no time for me to be sad today though. today was the day i was going to eat in the communal cafeteria!!!!! with the other anomalies!!!! as i climbed out of my nest my tail wagged. i was so excited. i had to prove i was safe to be around for what felt like MONTHS to get this privilege. my….. meltdowns…… had slowed the approval process, but i made up for it by bein cheerful & cooperative most of the time!!!!

3 hours later, long after the tertiary guards had brought my breakfast to my living quarters and i had eaten it, vibrating in anticipation like a chihuahua, the alarm finally rang again.

*EEEENNNNGHHH!!!*

*click* *wheeeeze*

my primary security guard walked in, wearing full-body armor and holding a tranquilizer gun as usual.

“hey tina!! hows ur morning going?”

he was followed by 3 secondary guards.

“hi zayn!!” i yowled. “im exci….. ive had a decent mornin. im excited for lunch!!!!!!!!”

the primary guard armed his tranq gun with a *click*. “well, im glad ur excited!!!! we cant go yet though, tina, we gotta wait fiiiiiive minutes okay??”

i turned my head sideways and involuntarily made a slow rising grunt. “we……. umm…… ya?”

i could smell the guards sweating. “yeah just five minutes tina!” zayn was coincidentally inbetween me & the door.

i went and sat down as a show of peace. “ok bub. but dont stretch it out past five minutes please if u can please.” i whined.

the guards all relaxed their stances a little.

7 minutes later, the primary guard turned his head and put his hand to his ear. “affirmative. affirmative. negative. ok moving to checkpoint.” he turned back to me. “hey tina we can go now ok??”

i stood up and tippytoed from one hindfoot to the other a few times, nodding my head excitedly and panting. “ok good ya!!!! lets go!!!!! ill stay close!!!!!”

we walked with two security guards in front of me & two behind me. the hallways were long and confusing. i smelled what smelled like a swamp behind one door we passed, and i heard loud dialup computer modem noises behind another. finally we reached a very large double door that had many smells coming from it.

“affirmative. checkpoint reached.” said zayn.

*EEEENNNGGHHHH* rang the alarm

*click* *wheeeeezze* the doubledoors opened on their own.

inside was a vast sterile grid of benches & tables. over on the side one bench was bent in half vertically upwards, and a big roomba-like robot was cleaning up murky liquid off of it and the floor beneath.

in seemingly random spots among the grid of benches & tables there were anomalous folks eating lunch. some were big like me, some were human sized, one of them i couldnt look directly at for some reason (they smelled like rotten eggs).

my primary guard zayn motioned toward a table which had a big bowl on it. “hey tina your lunch is over here dear!!” i started walking toward it but stopped to look out at the other anomalies. i waved at one that looked like a cross between a giant bug and a sexy lady. she smelled like ladybugs. after a moment she waved back!!!!!!! i was so happy; my tail wagged rapidly. my social urge fulfilled, i went & sat down with my bowl & started eating.

my guards had gone to stand at the wall after a while. after i finished licking my bowl clean, i looked back at them nervously, and turned & slowly began to walk toward the bug lady.

my guards immediatelly started running to stop me. “tina lets go back to your living quarters okay? we’re all done our food huh?? tina??” zayn was pulling at me. all four guards had their tranq guns armed.

“i want to talk to the nice person!!!!” i yowled. “she….they seem nice!!!!!” i turned around to Zayn. “pleease????”

zayn shook his helmeted head. “im sorry but youre not approved for interpersonal anomaly-to-anomaly contact tina…. srry.”

i howled quietly. i turned my head to look back at the bug lady.

she was waving!!!!!!!!

i waved back enthusiastically, then turned and walked away with my guards over and out the double-doors.

that night, when the tertiary guards brought my supper to my living quarters, zayn turned to me.

“im sorry u didnt get to talk to Blum- uh… i mean The Nice Person”

i looked away to hide my smile. “thats ok zayn. im sorry if i broke the rules again.”

“no” zayn turned back toward the door of my living quarters to leave. “ur impatience is understandable. i hope u enjoy your supper tina.” all the guards walked out of my room to let me eat in peace.

Blumo…… i thought to myself.

he was gonna say Blumo…..

her name is Blumo…..

i wagged my tail as i ate my supper from my bowl.

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on-coming-dusk · 2 years ago

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Scott Clarke anyone?

“Alright kiddo, one for you, one for me.” Scott sat next to Eddie Munson, handing him an ice pack for the bruise already forming around his left eye.

“Thanks…” The boy wouldn’t look at him, refusing to meet his gaze. Scott wasn’t surprised, he had seen his own reflection, his nose and under his eyes was a nasty dark purple already.

“So…” Scott chugged along. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Eddie only shook his head, pressing the ice to his face. This was the part of his job that Scott enjoyed the least.

Something happened between Eddie and Tommy Hagan this morning. There were more than enough black eyes, broken noses, and bloody knuckles to prove it. Scott had watched for the last few months as Eddie tried to find his place among his peers. With his primary friend group a year or two below him it wasn’t a surprise he was having trouble adjusting. And now this, a fight on his previously clean record. It was highly probable that Tommy antagonized Eddie until he got a reaction. But Scott couldn’t say that without creating more problems that none of them needed to deal with. If he could just get Eddie to tell him what happened. He didn’t have much faith, he had been trying to get this kid interested in class for weeks with little success. But that didn’t mean that he was going to quit now.

“You know what? That’s fair. I’m sure I wouldn’t want to talk about it either, if I were in your shoes. But Eddie, I can’t help you if I don’t know what happened. Shoot, I won’t even know what to tell your uncle when he gets here. Will you consider telling me even though you don’t want to? It would really make my life a whole lot simpler.”

Still, Eddie said nothing. But he reached into his backpack, hesitating for a moment before producing a newspaper. It was crumpled up, having seen better days, and Eddie refused to look at him as he handed it to the teacher. Scott set his own ice pack down, taking the paper gently and smoothing it down so it could be read.

His stomach twisted.

Wabash Local Faces Trial Born and raised in Wabash, Indiana, Edward Charles Munson Sr. was arrested May 13th, 1980. Beginning this week he will face trail for charges of auto theft, possession of controlled substances, distribution of controlled substances, breaking and entering, and assault with a deadly weapon.

Scott read those words at least three times in an attempt to wrap his mind around them. It was the answer to a lot of questions that seemed to follow the boy around.

It was already common knowledge that Eddie only moved to Hawkins permanently upon beginning to live with his uncle full time a few months ago. In town Wayne Munson was well liked. Friendly but quiet, he stuck to the few friends he had made upon his arrival, never partaking in town gossip or the rumor mill. There were whispers about how strange he was, the way he never seemed to go on dates or have an interest in finding a wife, for that matter. Some folks still believed Eddie was his son and he was lying to everyone about it. But even still, he was welcomed to the town when he arrived all those years ago, upon his return from Vietnam.

It would take less than a week for Wayne Munson's well received image to shatter if this headline started spreading around town.

"Eddie, is this what made you hit Tommy?" Scott folded the paper in half, hiding those words from anyone else who might see.

______________________________________________________

So. I think it's safe to say that i have a certain thought for Eddie's dad in my head already and that i have for a while.

this is a piece that i wrote probably six months ago and decided to put on hold until i caught up with some of my more planned out stories. (still working on that but progress is progress!!!) i found it in and old doc today and i wanted to share it because i really like it

yes, eddie accidentally broke mr. clarke's nose. no, he does not blame eddie at all.

yes, the town thinks that wayne is either gay or attempting to hide the fact that he has a bastard child. no, neither of these things are true either.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things writing #eddie munson #eddie munson's father #middle school eddie munson #hawkins middle school #scott clarke #mr clarke #wayne munson #tommy hagan #referenced drug dealer #small town rumors #hawkins

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kentmac · 7 months ago

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The Fall of Constantinople in the Style of Dave Attell (Part 3)

Alright folks, so we got this Mehmed dude coming in hot with his army, ready to attack the Theodosian Walls, the only thing standing between him and Constantinople. They set up camp outside the city, the day after Easter - must've needed a little break after all those chocolate eggs. Now, these Ottomans knew their stuff when it came to besieging cities. They had a whole system going on - burning corpses, getting rid of poop in a sanitary way, and making sure their water was clean. Gotta hand it to 'em, they were taking hygiene pretty seriously – or lack of it - considering they were about to wreck some walls. Thank good you can’t smell the old times though the funny stories in the history books.

So, Constantinople, also known as Istanbul, was like the toughest city in Europe back in the day. Mehmed, the dude leading the Ottoman Empire, sent some of his best troops to take out the remaining Byzantine strongholds outside the city. They managed to capture a couple of forts and even some islands, but they couldn't get past this chain blocking the entrance to the Golden Horn, which is like this harbor area. But then, Mehmed was like, "Nah, I'm gonna drag my ships over a frickin' hill and bypass that chain." So, they greased up some logs – get your mind out of the gutter - and pulled those ships up the hill. What do you know – lube makes everything better This move seriously messed with the flow of supplies for the defenders and pretty much killed their morale. The Byzantines tried to fight back with fire ships – that’s a ship that you set on fire for those not in the know. Apperently, you man them with crew, set them on fire and then the crew bails at some point. Don’t ask me I aint no general. But the Ottomans won out and the Byzantines who bailed from their sinking ships after they set them on fire got impaled on stakes when the reached the land because the Mehmed was right there to intercept them. In retaliation, the Byzantines executed their Ottoman prisoners in front of the Ottoman army. So yeah, it was getting pretty intense on those sea walls defending the Golden Horn.

Hey folks, so there were these Ottoman dudes trying to break through the walls of Constantinople, right? And they had these sapper guys, Serbian miners or whatever, sent by Zagan Pasha, trying to dig tunnels to get inside. But this German engineer named Johannes Grant, along with the Byzantine troops, they were like, oh hell no, and they dug counter-mines to kill those miners. It was a whole underground battle, man. They intercepted tunnels, destroyed 'em with Greek fire, and tortured some Turkish officers. Meanwhile, Mehmed, the Ottoman leader, sent an ambassador to the Emperor, offering to lift the siege if they just handed over the city. But our Emperor, Constantine XI, he wasn't about to give up without a fight, my friends. That's some real badassery right there.

Alright folks, here's the deal - it's 29th of May, and shit's about to go down in old Constantinople. The Ottomans are all fired up and mobilized for this final assault. They prayed and rested, because you know, gotta be well-rested before kicking some Byzantine ass. Meanwhile, the Venetian fleet was like, "Yo Emperor, ain't no big relief fleet comin'." So, tensions were high, and mass religious processions and ceremonies were happening all over the damn place. The Ottomans were blasting cannons left and right, shooting 5,000 shots using a shit ton of gunpowder. Then, just past midnight, it was game on. The Christian troops attacked first, followed by these azaps and Anatolian Turkmen dudes who aimed for the weak-ass 11th-century walls. They managed to breach it for a hot second, but the defenders were like, "Nah, not today." Finally, the elite Janissaries went all out and attacked the city walls. And in the chaos, the Genoese dude in charge of defense got seriously messed up, causing a good ol' panic among the defenders. Shit's escalating, people!

The Battle

So, there's this crazy battle, right? The Genoese troops are retreating, Constantine and his dudes are holding their ground against the Janissaries, but eventually, the Ottomans break through and all hell breaks loose. Greek soldiers run home to protect their families, Venetians retreat to their ships, and a few Genoese escape. Some guys surrender, some jump off the walls, and it's a straight-up massacre. The Ottomans take over the city, loot the houses, and behead some dudes. But hey, at least a few people manage to escape. It's chaos, bro.

Well folks, according to the fancy book, Mehmed II let his troops do some looting but tried to stop it from going too far. But let me tell ya, those sailors and marines went berserk, looting everything in sight. The city was in ruins, churches desecrated, houses destroyed, and stores emptied. Mehmed II was supposedly moved to tears, saying, "What a city we have given over to plunder and destruction." And let's not forget about the pillaging and atrocities. Thousands of Christians were killed or enslaved, nuns and innocent women were raped, and youths were forced into obscene acts. It was a bloodbath, folks. The Ottomans even captured children and stole treasures from the imperial palace. Resistance was futile - anyone who defied them was straight up slaughtered. It was a gruesome scene, piles of corpses everywhere you looked. Just goes to show the brutality of war, my friends.

So the Hagia Sophia got a makeover, huh? Knocked over an altar and put a muezzin up there to sound a prayer. Talk about a holy renovation! But hey, the Greek Orthodox Church still got to chill inside, so I guess that's cool. And this whole Ottoman millet system thing? Yeah, apparently that's just a myth. But anyway, back to the real drama - Constantinople fell, and Europe freaked out. Some were all for another Crusade, while others thought maybe talking it out could work. Pope Pius II was all like, "Let's grab our swords and go!" and this German dude was all like, "Nah, let's talk it out, bro." Meanwhile, poor Morea fortress held on, but eventually gave in. And poor Constantine XI didn't have an heir, so his brothers' kids became Ottoman favorites. One became Governor-General of the Balkans, and the other became an Admiral. Talk about a family affair! And now, with Constantinople under Ottoman control, it was like a punch in the gut for Christendom. But don't worry, the West kept dreaming of a Christian reconquest, fueled by rumors of Constantine XI's rescue from an angel. Oh, and the Pope called for a crusade, but no one really cared. So yeah, the age of crusading was pretty much over.

You know, back in the day, when Constantinople got sacked and fell like a ton of bricks in 1453, it triggered this massive migration of Byzantine scholars and all sorts of folks. We're talkin' grammarians, humanists, poets, writers, printers, the whole package. These guys brought with them a boatload of knowledge from Byzantine civilization - stuff that Western Europe hadn't seen before. And guess what? This whole shebang is considered by many fancy-pants scholars as the kickstart to the Renaissance. Yeah, that's right. The end of the Middle Ages, baby! It's like a whole new era started when these Greeks made their way to Italy. Authoritative source? Me, that’s who.

Now, there’s your bedtime reading folks. Sleep tight.

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bakubub · 3 years ago

Text

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

#racer!kuroo #haikyuu x reader #haikyufics #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsurou #haikyu angst #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu au #kuroo angst #kuroo comfort #kuroo fluff #kuroo au

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xbadgerbearx · 3 years ago

Text

your people will have our help

word count: 2.1k

Can’t Sleep: [1] … [3]

Of course you had to jump out of the aircraft into the cold water. What a perfect way to start the mission. Your team swam for a bit before wading through the shore as you approached the beach.

"Congratulations, Bloodsport."

"How'd you do it, Waller? There's no soldiers out here on patrol at all."

The beach was completely empty. There were no disturbances and more importantly, no enemies anywhere to be found. It was... peaceful.

"Let's just say they were distracted."

You only walked on the sand a couple feet before a large explosion erupted.

"Control, we have a disturbance south of here," Bloodsport reported after you jumped in surprise.

"It's just a diversion, Bloodsport."

Bloodsport seemed to weigh his options before speaking, "All right, we cut through the jungle to get to Valle Del Mar."

"Don't they have blockades at the city limits?" Peacemaker interjected.

"That's the word."

"How we getting in? Especially with Charlie the Tuna here," Peacemaker said while looking back at King Shark.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"You're the leader. You're supposed to be decisive."

"And I've decided you should eat a big bag of dicks, how's that?"

"You're being facetious, but if this whole beach was completely covered in dicks and somebody said I had to eat every dick until the beach was clean for liberty, I would say no problemo."

"Why would someone put penises all over the beach?" Ratcatcher II asked.

"Who knows why madmen do what they do."

"Chris, this is the second time you've made a comment like this today. Is there something you want to tell us?" You joked.

"Well, you know what I think?" Bloodsport started. "I think liberty is just your excuse to do whatever you want. Whether that's to eat a beach full of dicks or killin' folk."

"Oh, yeah? At least I don't kill men for money like you."

"Oh, here we go," Bloodsport sighed as he turned to face Peacemaker.

"There's something wrong with your skin," Ratcatcher II called out as she pointed to Polka Dot Man. You turned to see his face covered in bulging colorful... polka dots.

"It's just a rash."

"Oh, my- Abner, are you okay? You don't look so good," you said worriedly as you reached your hand out to touch him. You were interrupted by another loud explosion off in the distance.

"Never mind that, we need to continue forward."

You made it quite the distance before Bloodsport dropped his bag onto the ground. The entire time walking you watched Abner with both curiosity and worry.

"Alright, we'll camp here, and tomorrow we'll go straight through the city to get to La Gatita Amable by nightfall."

Everyone was laying out their sleeping equipment, in this case sleeping bags, as you figured out where you should lay yours.

"Why don't you lay over here, (L/n)? I could keep you warm," Chris offered with a laugh.

"Fuck no," you replied with the same humorous energy. "I'd rather you not roll over on me like you did last time."

"Last time?" Abner piped up timidly.

"It's nothing like that," you assured while rolling your eyes. "Me, Chris, and some of our other teammates at the time had to huddle up for warmth after Waller sent us on a mission somewhere in Siberia."

"Oh," Abner said, kind of relieved.

"I'll just put mine here," you placed your bag next to Abner's and DuBois. "It's near the fire."

You changed into your sleep clothes. Well, to be honest you just took off your shirt and slept in your tank top, but it was close enough. It wasn't long before you drifted off, however, you awoke some time later to some shuffling sounds and a quiet groan. Peeking under your lashes, you find yourself facing toward DuBois who was resting on his elbow, alert. You quietly sat up and turned to see what DuBois was looking at. A colorful light show was dancing on the leaves and tall grass. Almost as quickly as it happened, Abner appeared. He looked a little out of it, but quickly dawned a look of shock as he was caught doing... what exactly?

You got up to make sure your favorite awkward man was doing okay before you were cut off by a loud bang! Instinctively, you disappeared. Literally. DuBois kept shooting Nanaue until he was backed up against a tree.

"How deep of a sleeper are you?" DuBois asked Cleo, to which she responded sleepily, "I was having the most wonderful dream."

"If it was you about to be eaten by King Shark, then you're psychic," Chris said.

"I don't believe he would do that. He has very kind eyes."

Sebastian was saying what you could only guess was that Nanaue was, in fact, going to eat her.

"Hungry," Nanaue whined.

"You bastard!"

Rats from every direction emerged from the darkness as Cleo held up her glowing device. DuBois was looking rather uncomfortable.

"All right, calm down with the rats!" he yelled.

"What?"

"I have a thing with rats."

"You have a thing with rats?"

"Yes."

"And you're on a team with someone who controls them?" your disembodied voice asked.

He whipped around trying to find you before yelling, "What the fuck?"

As if suddenly remembering that you cannot be seen, you revealed yourself behind Abner whom you were using as a shield. As cute as he thought it was that you were using him as protection, it did startle him that you just appeared randomly behind him.

"Partnering up with someone with rats is not something I asked for!"

Peacemaker started laughing.

"What are you laughing at me for, man? Why the fuck are you in your underwear?"

You looked over and sure enough, Chris was in nothing but his underwear.

"Woah!" you yelled while burying your face into Abner's back. "Chris, put on some pants for fucks sake!"

"Tighty-whities? Really?"

"Now that's just racist."

"No, it's not racist! They're tighty-whities!"

"You didn't tell me you had a fear of rats, DuBois," Waller said over the comms.

"I'm an assassin! Why would I share my liabilities?" This was promptly followed by an uncharacteristicly girly scream.

"Aww, he's offering you a pretty leaf to show you he means no harm," Cleo cooed.

"Why the fuck would I want a leaf?"

DuBois was getting increasingly more freaked out while Chris started laughing again.

"Just get the rats out of here!"

Cleo turned off her device and all the rats scurried back into the jungle.

Peacemaker turned to DuBois and asked, "Hey, we gonna kill Megalodouche now, or what?"

"Nanaue's the strongest member of your team. You need him to get into Jotunheim."

"Yeah, well we can't function as a team if we gotta watch our back from one of our own eatin' our bollocks," Bloodsport replied.

"Nanaue," Cleo started as she kneeled down to his height. "Would you eat your friends?"

"I no friends."

"You have no friends? Well, if you did, would you eat them?"

Chris answered with a "yes" before he was shot a look from Ratcatcher II.

"No?"

"Then can we be your friends?"

Chris scoffed, "Come on, he's obviously lying."

"If I die 'cause I gambled on love, it will be a worthy death."

DuBois shook his head, "You are a little idiot."

So much for a full rest. It was nearly morning by the time the shark incident was resolved, so you decided to just pack up and dress yourself.

"Task Force X, you have an additional mission directive. We've located Colonel Rick Flag. He's been taken by the enemy."

"Rick Flag?" DuBois asked while your team made your way through the jungle.

"I know, you both served on special forces in Qurac that took down Avral Kaddam. Flag was the one who initially recommended you."

"You had other operatives in Corto Maltese and didn't tell us?"

"There was no tactical advantage, now there is. I've uploaded the location on your MTS. Terminate his captors with extreme prejudice. Kill anyone you see. These are dangerous people. Recover Flag before moving on to the city."

You eventually made it to a decent sized camp before DuBois MTS started beeping.

"That's where they're holding Flag."

"Nothing like a bloodbath to start the day."

"I thought they called you Peacemaker," Ratcatcher II questioned.

"I cherish peace with all my heart. I don't care how many men, women, and children I need to kill to get it."

Ratcatcher II turned to Polka Dot Man before whispering, "I thought you were the crazy one," which was swiftly answered by you lightly shoving her shoulder.

"I am."

"All right," Bloodsport said, getting everyone's attention. "Let's get it."

You and Nanaue crept behind a man who gave his cup to his buddy.

"Gracias," you heard the man say. Soon after, King Shark picked the man up and ate him as he started screaming. He dropped what looked to be a communication device. Nanaue smacked his mouth as the comms device went off.

"Cualquier cosa?"

As your nearby teammates looked in somewhat fear as to what to do, you picked up the dead soldier's comms and said "Nada, Señora" while perfectly mimicking his voice. Your team carried on.

You hastily turned yourself invisible as you scouted for Rick Flag. It took a couple of minutes but you managed to find the only white guy there. You assumed he was Rick since he was injured, but were they... laughing?

"Bloodsport," you whispered into your comms. "I found Rick Flag. He was laughing?" You sounded unsure.

"Most likely drugged," Peacemaker said. "Where's he located?"

"Northmost tent, past the watchtower." Right after you said that you saw a bunch of colorful polka dots disintegrate the watchtower.

"On our way."

You could hear some of your team's conversation as they approached your location. You made yourself visible again.

"I'm sorry it's so... flamboyant."

"It looks cool," you heard Cleo say.

"I don't like to kill people, but if I pretend it's my mom, it's easy."

"TMI, mate," said DuBois.

More laughter could be heard inside the tent as Bloodsport ripped open the tent curtain. An uncomfortable silence settled.

"DuBois?"

"Hey, Flag."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Bloodsport looked around confused. "Waller told us that you were... uh... are you drinking tea?"

Flag gestured to his female companion sitting across the table from him, "This is Sol Soria, she's the leader of the freedom fighters, the resistance trying to take down the current government. They-they saved my life."

"Oh. Wow."

Everyone put down their weapons.

"Why did my people not alert me of your arrival?"

You awkwardly hide yourself behind Abner again.

"We didn't see any people," Bloodsport swiftly lied.

"Yeah, I didn't see anybody on the way..." Peacemaker continued.

"There's no one out there."

"They were gone when we got here."

"I turned them into my mother in my head and killed them."

Everyone turned to look at Polka Dot Man. You just sighed and smacked his shoulder. To make matters worse, King Shark hacked up... was that a finger with a wedding ring? Sebastian squeaked out an audible "Uh oh."

Soria promptly lunged off the table and made her way outside. You and your team awkwardly stood amongst the destruction you caused while Flag and Soria looked in pain.

"Typical Americans. Just run in, guns blazing."

"I know, this is messed up. These guys, they're..."

Rick looked behind him to see Peacemaker and Bloodsport getting into a stupid cat fight, while Ratcatcher II was rubbing her face ashamed, and you and Polka Dot Man were looking off into the jungle having your own conversation and not even paying attention.

"They're fucking idiots, but right now our objectives aligh with yours. If Jotunheim contains the technology our intelligence says it does, then it could be used on the people of Corto Maltese as well as Americans. That's why we need your help to get into the city so we can stop 'em."

Soria just stared past Flag and asked, "Is that rat waving at me?"

Sure enough, Rick turned back around to see Sebastian waving at them. Cleo was messing with her hands, Chris and DuBois were looking around while tapping their feet, and you were admiring Abner's polka dots on his costume as he was awkwardly trying to accept your compliments.

"It appears it is."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna guess because it's friendly."

Soria thought for a moment, weighing her options, before speaking again.

"Luna and Suarez murdered my entire family. I'd make a deal with the devil to stop them." As if it physically pained her to say, she continued. "Your people will have our help getting to Vall Del Mar to apprehend this Gaius Grieves."

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edenmemes · 4 years ago

Text

assassin’s creed valhalla starters

words within ‘()’ are additional, optional choices! more maybe to be added at a later date. some n/sfw present.

❝ you should see the other man. he got the worst of it. ❞ ❝ and who better to lead us to glory than me? ❞ ❝ i am most at home helping others. ❞ ❝ i’ve waited long enough for you, and you for me. ❞ ❝ thank you for not saying anything about my past. ❞ ❝ know that however far away, you’re always in my thoughts. ❞ ❝ when you see your god, tell them i sent you. ❞ ❝ what you make up in muscles, you’re lacking in spine. ❞ ❝ i almost envy you, to see the world through such a muddy glass and live with such petty concerns. ❞ ❝ i smell the stink of a dozen kingdoms in your beard. ❞ ❝ this feud is not yours, yet you fight it all the same. i find that strange. ❞ ❝ by the look on your face, you have lost your will to live. ❞ ❝ my arms are numb from battle. does it need any dressing? do you think it is a serious wound? ❞ ❝ oh dear. this is not how i foresaw things. not at all! ❞ ❝ should we take this to your chamber? ❞ ❝ i want this. i want you. ❞ ❝ turn around, walk away, and you keep your insides inside. ❞ ❝ stay back! back! i will fight you! ❞ ❝ you look like reddened shit. what happened? ❞ ❝ i have always wanted to experience the world as you do. ❞ ❝ you come like a valkyrie out of a fog. but i have no dead to give you. ❞ ❝ all right, stay close and do as i do. ❞ ❝ home. or...it was home, once. now it is nothing but bone. ❞ ❝ i’ll have no qualms wiping clean your grin. ❞ ❝ just take care. such hatred can make you careless. ❞ ❝ away from your table for a day and you are already lusting for blood. ❞ ❝ if i did not know any better, i would say you are teasing me. ❞ ❝ the dream of new lands is a powerful lure. ❞ ❝ i love climbing up here. makes me feel as high as a raven. ❞ ❝ if i don’t find your horse, i will steal you a new one. ❞ ❝ i feel somewhat trapped. in this room, in this settlement, in this life. ❞ ❝ you are lost in a sea-storm of your own making. ❞ ❝ the poet in you sings once again. ❞ ❝ tonight, we will eat and drink like gods and wake in a kingdom made new. ❞ ❝ i wish i understood you better. for those i do not understand, i do not trust. (and i cannot stomach a lack of trust.) ❞ ❝ i’ve been called worse. ❞ ❝ you have nothing to fear from me. i bear you no ill will. ❞ ❝ you are a shadow of your father. weak and witless. ❞ ❝ what is this? is this...are we in hell? ❞ ❝ keep company with kings and you will soon have a crown of your own. ❞ ❝ a toothless cub may grow to be a dangerous wolf. ❞ ❝ you are far too young to speak so wise. ❞ ❝ i need clear, sound judgement. i need you. ❞ ❝ kind and courageous people live the best lives, but it can be a difficult path to keep. ❞ ❝ i want to say...i love you. and i have for some time. ❞ ❝ you smell that? the stink of jealousy. (of our budding friendship, i think). ❞ ❝ ah, while i have you, i’m reminded...i have this for you. ❞ ❝ your lies are just like you. big and bold. ❞ ❝ don’t excuse yourself. you enjoy this too much. ❞ ❝ you've come back. why are you wasting your time with me? ❞ ❝ care to sing a song? helps me pass the time. ❞ ❝ that is twice you have earned my admiration. ❞ ❝ you have only the setting sun to tell you when to stop. ❞ ❝ i want to know what you know. name your price. ❞ ❝ people like you deserve something worse than death. ❞ ❝ they called me a lout, a disgrace. they were right. ❞ ❝ i will have to get used to watching the sights of war from afar now. ❞ ❝ there’s no other way. fight or hide. it’s up to you. ❞ ❝ do not think me a coward. i am not afraid of war. ❞ ❝ friendships end. often at the point of a spear. ❞ ❝ i will make you beg as your father begged. ❞ ❝ (until that time,) it would be best to keep all discussions about... about us to yourself. ❞ ❝ without you i would have lost my way a thousand times. ❞ ❝ you have no other friends. so tread lightly here. ❞ ❝ be it a blessing or a curse, family is always first. ❞ ❝ let’s not walk too far with that idea. i need you right where you are. ❞ ❝ you bested me. yet, i’m the one left standing. ❞ ❝ it’s a pleasure to meet you at least. ❞ ❝ you and your people here have done more for me than i could ever repay. ❞ ❝ you have my highest respect, regard, and trust. ❞ ❝ you’re not shy, are you? ❞ ❝ if we do this, you’ll earn the right to call me friend ten-thousand fold. ❞ ❝ does this have the stench of betrayal to you? ❞ ❝ today has meant so much. we rode, we fought, we drank, we laughed. (you showed me your world.) ❞ ❝ your end was written the moment you came for me. ❞ ❝ i am a sellsword. i ask what i please, and i take what i’m owed. ❞ ❝ you move and i will take your eyes. you hear me? ❞ ❝ i will leap first. on my word, you must follow. ❞ ❝ many times i wished to tell you. wished to say what was in my heart and what i desired. (but duty kept me from it.) ❞ ❝ these wounds will heal quickly. you’re lucky. ❞ ❝ anything to help you feel at home. ❞ ❝ our friendship is the best thing to come from this mess. ❞ ❝ you will be remembered for this, for years to come. ❞ ❝ i thought i had lost you. for good this time. ❞ ❝ you have shown me a great kindness. it is only fitting that i do the same. ❞ ❝ the mess you’re in...you don’t know the half of it. ❞ ❝ you have drawn a dark conclusion about me, haven’t you? (that is all well and good. i’ve drawn some about you as well.) ❞ ❝ you seem...strangely familiar. ❞ ❝ here i am, an upright man who never once learned how to bend the knee. and yet...i shall try. ❞ ❝ that’s a bread knife. do you mean to butter me? ❞ ❝ is that not something you worry over? ❞ ❝ a blind pursuit of vengeance has made you predictable. ❞ ❝ no matter where you are, or how far you travel, i will hunt you down. ❞ ❝ i came for you, looking for a friend and ally. ❞ ❝ people change. it may be that you change with them, or you go your separate ways. ❞ ❝ i wish you whatever peace you may find in this new life you’ve found. ❞ ❝ i want your word: you will follow my orders. ❞ ❝ the day is new, and the air is bracing. are you ready for the fight ahead? ❞ ❝ er...good to meet you as well? ❞ ❝ what riches are worth so much misery, and the deaths of honorable men and women? ❞ ❝ my destiny is mine to weave. ❞ ❝ my road forward has been a muddy one. slick with blood and tears. (but we can reach its end together.) ❞ ❝ it is a wise leader who considers the needs of others. ❞ ❝ i think my mouth has gotten me in enough trouble today. ❞ ❝ at the end of all things, you will find yourself with nothing but your regrets. ❞ ❝ you saw fit to keep me guessing through your fits of madness. ❞ ❝ by all the gods, what was that? ❞ ❝ i was...restless. a quiet walk alone clears the head. ❞ ❝ when winter is past, summer will come and wind you in a flowered skirt, for you are beauty and shall not wither. ❞ ❝ ...unless you had a more interesting day planned for us? ❞ ❝ i do hope you see it now, for all you have done for me. ❞ ❝ your passion, your strength. i have never met such a burning soul. ❞ ❝ i have no guilt nor regret for what we have done, but we should be careful. ❞ ❝ i see before me a person full of passion, vigor, and a love for their people. ❞ ❝ if i wanted to hear you talk shit, i’d cut out your tongue and shove it up your ass. ❞ ❝ you! you look stronger than most of the others. ❞ ❝ your hatred for me burns bright. i could warm my balls on it. ❞ ❝ you’re quite like your arms: incredibly thick. ❞ ❝ i fought as i do, as hard as i do, to survive. (for i know what awaits us in the end. only darkness.) ❞ ❝ a shameful trick. you are your father’s child. ❞ ❝ you destroyed my life. i will take yours. ❞ ❝ you snore a little, like a wounded bear. ❞ ❝ that’s when i knew i would live and die for you. ❞ ❝ i’m going to pretend your last words were taken by the wind. ❞ ❝ i might still kill you yet, if your prattling doesn’t cease. ❞ ❝ you are weak like your father was weak. (you dance better than you fight.) ❞ ❝ have you ever seen muscles as massive as mine? ❞ ❝ i’m honored by your faith in me. and your confidence. ❞ ❝ after my missteps, i worry what you must think of me. ❞ ❝ with so much blood in the water and death in the air, i’d like to know your name and purpose. ❞ ❝ i have a good feeling about this place. ❞ ❝ you helped me reclaim what i had lost in myself. ❞ ❝ you speak of honor. where’s yours? ❞ ❝ you will throw away all reason to defend what you sworn to. ❞ ❝ you really are like a hero out of folk tales. ❞ ❝ how much would you sacrifice to be freed of fate’s shackles? (would you give your tongue, your hand, your sight?) ❞ ❝ there’s no power strong enough to do what you say. ❞ ❝ please, you must fight for me. who knows what vile people might come to harm me? ❞ ❝ i have no need to count my kills. they number too many. ❞ ❝ i appreciate you for all of your qualities. ❞ ❝ not even the gods can change fate. ❞ ❝ i think it is time i take my leave. ❞ ❝ you really thought my life was in danger? (and you risked your own life...) ❞ ❝ the path ahead is bright, with glory at its end. ❞ ❝ it is easy to lose one's way on the road to glory. do not let false victories blind you to what is true. ❞ ❝ the act of leaving so beloved a home, there is a sadness to it. ❞ ❝ so there’s nowhere...you call home? ❞ ❝ all things end. ruins are not a warning, they are a testament. ❞ ❝ be nice to sleep in a real bed when this is over. ❞ ❝ in my sleep i dream. and in my dreams i see an end to the doom that will grip the earth once again. ❞ ❝ even when we win, we lose. ❞ ❝ i am as good with my lips, as i am with my tongue. ❞ ❝ is this your idea of a pleasant ride through the country? ❞ ❝ no whispering god brought me here. i brought myself. ❞ ❝ i would like very much to pass some time with you. ❞ ❝ ...and that’s how i got that scar. ❞ ❝ do i now haunt your dreams? ❞ ❝ it was never in their character to lead, it was always within yours. ❞ ❝ so easily wounded by words. imagine the ruin my axe would inflict on your flaccid ego. ❞ ❝ i have felt this way for some time now. i care for you. ❞ ❝ i have not felt safe since then. not really. ❞ ❝ how long have you been chasing me? seventeen winters? eighteen? ❞ ❝ you are not always to be trusted. your passions overcome you. ❞ ❝ i like you. you may help me here or step on me...and by the look of you i’d welcome either. ❞ ❝ it is good to have you in this fight. ❞ ❝ you need only know my impressive scale and flawless build. ❞ ❝ i am better than any man here. ❞ ❝ i can tell by looking at you, you are not a great warrior. (you know it too, there is no reason to deny this.) ❞ ❝ i am looking for honor, and have become lost as a result. ❞ ❝ many apologies. you are no child, simply a frail and fully-grown fool. ❞ ❝ i was stupid, selfish, reckless, blind, boneheaded, and i smell like blood and shit. ❞ ❝ anything to say for the mess you led us to? ❞ ❝ how was your...first kill? ❞ ❝ you squirm like that and my axe will miss your neck! unpleasant for both of us. ❞ ❝ i know you would defy me to the death, fighting for a glorious end. that i will not allow. ❞ ❝ most men choose to be loud or stupid. impressive, that you managed both. ❞ ❝ you are a great warrior. conquerer of this land and that of your birth. ❞ ❝ you’re chasing shadows like a madman howling at the moon! ❞ ❝ quite a hit you took. how many were lost? ❞ ❝ well fought! even if your wits were somewhat rattled. ❞ ❝ we suffered no losses in this fight, and the men who humiliated us are dead. what is there to say? ❞ ❝ i would like to be close to you. ❞ ❝ if you are a warrior with honor running like sunlight in your veins, then you may help me fulfill my destiny. ❞ ❝ you are a long way from any warm hearth, warrior. Is this where you call home? ❞ ❝ am i to go the rest of my days without love or attention? i think not. ❞ ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞ ❝ the others, they are like clubs. blunt and ungainly, you are nimble, like a knife. ❞ ❝ people with eyes that gleam like yours are always up to something more. ❞ ❝ only a fool stays awake all night worrying. you are tired when you get up, and the problem is still not solved. ❞ ❝ i liked you from the first. i saw something in you that captivated me. (as if a forgotten memory of an old friendship had suddenly resurfaced.) ❞ ❝ you've done nothing but give me your blind word! ❞ ❝ did you bring me any treasure? ❞ ❝ the woodsmoke from your firepit does sting the eyes. but the warmth is welcome. ❞ ❝ it is not something i can speak on. or wish to. ❞ ❝ i'm with you. only say the word. ❞ ❝ until we cut off this serpent's head, it will poison us, day by day, drop by drop. ❞ ❝ get some rest and return here at first light. ❞ ❝ i missed having you at my side. how i wished i could have taken you along on my travels. ❞ ❝ i do not like this, but i will not stop you. ❞ ❝ i have waited too many years for this day. when ___ stands before us, give me the final blow. ❞ ❝ why do you carry such a useless burden? let it go. ❞ ❝ i have waited years for this, but i will not risk losing it through rashness. ❞ ❝ i cannot fathom your game. you are either a young fool...or deceptively wise. ❞ ❝ your confidence blinds you to so much in plain sight. ❞ ❝ it’s good to be here, with you and your people. (i feel my life has found a new road.) ❞ ❝ there has always been war, even among the gods. ❞ ❝ my honor has been stained. until it's wiped clean, i want nothing else. ❞ ❝ i lack the patience for pole fishing. i would have better luck with my bow. ❞ ❝ if we tell all our stories, we’ll be here for a week. ❞ ❝ can you teach me the art of archery? ❞ ❝ bury the past. build the future. ❞ ❝ i missed you. your clear head and your courage. (we have not had enough of both in recent months.) ❞ ❝ i have a good feeling this war is near its end. ❞ ❝ explain in plain words why you have willfully disobeyed my commands. (do you mock me?) ❞ ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞ ❝ my love for you rises tall and strong, like the tree of life. ❞ ❝ the prize is some of my time. (a walk in nature, maybe more if that is where our conversation takes us.) ❞ ❝ together, we are unstoppable. ❞ ❝ it is natural to fear change. to resist it. (but all things change, and all things end.) ❞ ❝ you said nothing of this to me, not a word. ❞ ❝ so long as men and women fight to secure honor and freedom, their allegiance hardly matters to me. ❞ ❝ i care for you. i do not know how to say it any other way. ❞ ❝ love can burn brighter near death. ❞ ❝ i knew this would be difficult, but sometimes the weight bears down heavily. ❞ ❝ you are young and still foolish, so i will spare you your life. (but cross me again or harm anyone i cherish, and you will join your friends in hell.) ❞ ❝ if you are as brave as you appear, you will come. ❞ ❝ this is not a natural quiet. it's as if a curse has befallen this place. ❞ ❝ there was a curse here long before i came along. ❞ ❝ we’ll forge a warrior from your softness, hammered on the anvil of war. ❞ ❝ you are different than the kind my flights of fancy attract. burdened, decorated and…delicate. ❞ ❝ i do not know what else to say. m-my memories are faint, hazy. ❞ ❝ how are you doing? you survived a serious blow. ❞ ❝ we’ll weave our sagas together, thread upon thread. ❞ ❝ i try to use my knowledge to help others. i am only a threat to those who fear the unknown. ❞ ❝ slap some moss on that gash and wrap it well. ❞ ❝ a knife to the back is a wound that never heals. ❞ ❝ with me you have wisdom! glory! power! what more do you need? ❞ ❝ if your hell is real, i’m glad you’ll get to see it. ❞ ❝ to fight beside such legends is an honor. (i've only heard tales of your conquests. now i get to live them.) ❞ ❝ i have tried to live well. it is enough that the gods know that. ❞ ❝ a cloud hangs over you. is something wrong? ❞ ❝ you have plunged my city into chaos. ❞ ❝ my sword is gore-greedy. i am ready to fight. ❞ ❝ accept your fate and die a coward, here before your people... and i will spare the rest. ❞ ❝ you would take the rescue for yourself, so the victory song is written about you? ❞ ❝ kneel, and i will spare your life. ❞ ❝ it has been some time. what brings you so far to see me? ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #long post for ts /

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hyukmoon · 3 years ago

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moon. | l.sy x gn!reader

lee sangyeon x gn!reader

word count: about 4.01k

to put it short: congrats! Something you should actually say, right? Your best friend and crush is getting married in two days and you feel,... well, not very good about it. So, wait... he's returning the feelings? Damn.

content warning: ANGST in capital letters, I would add lots of exclamation points but im lazy. So yeah, hella angsty. Some good old making out, it's kind of heavy at some point but no smut at this point lol. I don't condone any of the done actions, so yeah, I would've personally handled everything differently, but you know, y/n is kinda wild. Very awkward sometimes, but that's more the situation in itself. ALSO, NOT PROOFREAD

taglist: @loki-in-hogwarts

note: the second thing i wrote and im somewhat excited!!! Yes! Exclamation points. So,... thanks for reading :)

It was a great day. Well, at least seemingly for everyone but you. Your best friend in this world Sangyeon was about to get married to the love of his life, who is notyou and now you just stand in the hotel lobby waiting for it to happen. Funnily enough, the crushing feeling of desperation and fear didn’t seem to set in yet.

The hotel lobby was filled to the brim with acquaintances and other guests possibly confused by the uproar of the wedding guests. So, who were you specifically waiting for? The rest of your friend group, the ones who will most likely clean up after the wedding whatever will be left of you.

A nervous smile swept up to your lips, casually just avoiding every sort of tension that could come across you. Just with the luck of this entire occurrence an older woman started to approach you, demon alike features spreading around her face almost like she knew you were apparently the only single person here. An aunty, that wasn’t even related to you but had all the business to judge.

“Are you here for the bride or the groom?”, her sweet voice rang a familiar feeling in your stomach. Almost too sweet, making you suspicious of her intent. “I’m here for my best friend, Sangyeon. So, yeah, for the groom.��, you hesitated a second, “What about you though? Do you know the bride?”

“She’s my youngest niece, the only one that still visits, her sisters don’t even care anymore…” You nodded politely, not wanting to anger her now and stepped towards a different direction.

“So, my dear, are you here with anybody?” You already feared that question, the same as always. The eyes of yours started with a panicked expression searching through the room a familiar pair. “No, I am here on my own. I kinda wanted to focus on getting Sangyeon through with it, being there for him.” As a friend.

Possibly this was the first part of feeling despair and fear. People at this wedding were really waiting for them to get married. They weren’t joking, this would change everything.

“Ah, I see. You know, get over him. Well, it is time for you at least, you’re not getting younger. There are quite few handsome men here. I remember the names Juyeon and ah yes! Kevin, get over here!” As far as you were concerned, your facial expression couldn’t possibly look more stunned than a moment ago, yet another one of your good friends appeared, seemingly just as confused.

This only held on for a good second, Kevin knew exactly what to do. “Oh hi, I’m so sorry to steal [Y/N] away from you, but I actually need to talk to them on my own over a gift we both prepared for the couple!”, he grinned at the lady, who was obviously smitten with him. “Yes, of course, hun. Take your time.” She finally hushed into a separate direction.

“So, how are we doing? You seem kinda… stressed.”

“You don’t say”, you sighed, “if I have to go through a conversation like this again today, believe me I’ll-. “

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I get the sentiment. Even though I meant more the other situation. Like in, Sangyeon getting married and you sitting here all grumpy because of it.”, Kevin was already aware of your “small” infatuation with your best friend, a man too far out of your reach also funnily enough, the man’s wedding you’re attending. However, your friend in front of you didn’t seem to mind talking about it out loud in a place like the hotel lobby. Your lips tightened up into a fine line.

“I’m not grumpy! I just…I don’t really know what to do. I mean, I know I’m going to be there for him but yeah, okay, I might feel a bit grumpy.” The lobby did clear up a lot now.

“Okay, oof. There’s this dinner with everyone in the evening today, do you think you can get through that?”, Kevin asked hesitantly just as stressed with this additional complication.

“I mean, I probably have to, don’t I? This makes me so sick, ugh. Not gonna lie, my stomach feels like a laundry machine.” You laughed quietly and drifted off again into a place where you didn’t need to think about this.

“What did you really expect though? You know I love you, respectfully, but like, this feels like an incredibly bad move to do.”

“Don’t you think it would be worse if I didn’t show up at all? I’ll just need to go through this weekend and I’m outta here. No one will know anything.” It might feel like a nightmare but at least a nightmare you can actually run away from and not actually have to face at some point.

“Well, I hope you’ll keep your confidence. Because imagine I saw the person, I love getting married to someone else. Oh my, believe me, you wouldn’t find me for the next three weeks.”

“Not very helpful, a good three out of ten. I guess, I’ll just stick to sulking around then.” A dead smile crept up your lips following a stern look from your side at your opposite.

“Seems like a good plan, just stick to me, maybe we will find someone to take your attention away from this, huh?” A sly grin was visible on Kev’s face.

“Ughhh, of course. Let’s do this. It can’t get much worse than that”, you cleared your throat, “thanks, though. You actually make this here somewhat bearable.”

“Awww, come on. We should pack out our suitcases.”

No one can really prepare someone for a moment like this. Most older folk turned into their hotel rooms which left you in a party like situation seeing your closest friends turning it up in a huge pavilion while the future groom sits comfortably on a velvety sofa hand in hand with his fiancée.

The air was quite warm even at this time of the evening, not humid, just warm enough for everyone to taste the end of this era with nostalgia and a slight feeling of energy to experience what’s to come afterwards.

You as well sat down, continuously processing your environment. With a cup of your favorite drink, you felt invincible, nothing able to shake you down.

Now while this wasn’t a preferred environment, this was manageable; you could look your best friend into his eyes and proudly congratulate him on his wedding. You would be able to get over this and continue to be a great friend. Black hair with an intense facial expression made its way into your viewpoint along with a somewhat tipsy Kevin. Simultaneously the lighter hair of your best friend fought his way through the crowd.

Lee Sangyeon, the man lighting up your mood with simple touch of his fingertips was now signalizing for you to head outside towards the veranda of the pavilion. He exuded patience, yet clearly waiting for a response of you. You nodded and brushed cautiously over your evening attire.

“Hii, [Y/N]! Can I introduce this someone to you? This is Juyeon, he might look a bit intense, but he’s really nice to talk to! So, I’m gone for a sec then!” Kevin started drifting off into a different direction where you stopped him in his tracks.

“Could this wait? Sangyeon needs to talk to me. I think it’s important, I’ll come back though in a bit!” You gifted both of them an apologetic face and made your way around the men towards the going to be groom.

Surely it wasn’t exactly clear why he wanted to speak to you, especially on his own. He was still waiting for you after all.

“[Y/N]! What has it been? Like three? Four months? I missed you so much.”, Sangyeon pulled you into his chest abruptly and sighed softly into your shoulder. Engulfed entirely in his figure you never wanted to wake up from this again. Was it now 10 seconds? 15 seconds? Neither he nor you really seemed to let go, taking in all the scents of his that were formerly familiar to you.

“Yeah, I think so. You were probably busy planning this all and I just had to work, I guess.” Trying to keep it short was your main goal, appearing distant maybe. He didn’t mind at all though. Not discouraged from continuing this conversation Sangyeon pointed at the veranda, showing the only speck of space with little to no crowd.

The veranda was close to closed off to the party. Non distinguishable palm trees in the far distance were playing right into your cards for not having to look into his eyes. Magnetically glowing, that’s how he appeared. All happy and smiley about the obvious luck he was experiencing. Now again, he sat down with you in the beach chairs without loosing a word.

“The palm trees are so pretty. You remember me wanting to buy some new plants?”, you tried to invite him to the conversation.

“You always want to buy new plants, which time do you mean?” Sangyeon grinned to himself. “You know what? It’s so weird. Everything feels still so unreal. This wedding, also you at my wedding… So weird.”

“I am literally your best friend, where else should I be? Your funeral? At home? Who else is going to charm the hotel staff for some free capri suns and new towels?” Your mouth crinkled up and you let out a soft laugh.

“[Y/N] … You know exactly what I mean!”

“Noo, not at all. I’m so confused right now, not gonna lie.” Your face finally moved towards his direction, seeing his gentle gaze resting on you.

“Do you remember when we were still in school, and we promised each other we would marry each other if we didn’t find anybody else?” His gaze got more intense with each sentence.

“Yeahh, kind of. I was probably tired and it’s like ten years ago. I’m not really sure what you’re trying to tell me.”

“I really thought I was going to marry you. For several years, actually.”, he laughed. “I had such a crush on you and then you met your s/o and all that. Ughh, it seemed so complicated back then. Kind of weird to think about what could have happened if I did ask you out or something.”

“True.”, you turned away again standing up and resting against the wooden railing of the pavilion. “But you didn’t so, let’s just drop it there.” The weather as well started rebelling a bit, the wind hugging your figure slightly too tight for your taste.

“Why are you so cold all of a sudden?”, he whispered closely behind you.

“Well, you’re getting married tomorrow. And you’re telling me about a crush you had on me?”, you croaked.

“I was just being nostalgic, I thought this would be fine with you.” Sangyeon appeared now next to you on the railing, waiting for you to face his concerned dark eyes.

“It isn’t for me. It just feels wrong.”

“What feels so wrong about it? It was a long time ago.”

It is here, the bitterness. Bitterness shouldn’t even be the correct term, the pain of your heart going into a slump didn’t feel like a fitting word. Being reminded again that you will never have a chance again.

“Wait or is it not a long time ago for you?”, The voice of his tried to word his next sentence very carefully.

“I went out with them because I thought you were joking. Then when I thought about you, it was always different. It was too late though, you met her.” Only the close ocean along with the wind were hearable, neither you nor he were able to form another thought put into a sentence.

“You could’ve told me. I would’ve-.”

“Broken up with her?”

“No, I-.”

“Then what could you have done?”, you interrupted Sangyeon’s rambling, trembling while speaking. Terribly spiteful with a bite that wasn’t too often dripping down your lips.

“This.” Sangyeon pressed a fluttery kiss against your lips. Slender fingers tapped onto the skin right under your chin, signalizing you to look at him.

The now much calmer atmosphere made you snake your arms around his torso. Heat rose towards your head, longing after a second out in the cold again just to see his lovely facial expression. Your lips broke off and touched once more in an almost hypnotic fashion.

His hot breath started sliding downwards your cheek to your neck, physically making you unable to resist his entrancing presence. Also his hands broached over from your face down to your waist, holding you with the lightest touch.

Sangyeon’s lips darted away from yours, catching you staring deeply into his eyes. The silence felt warm now as well, filled with the slow and recovering breath of the participants.

“[Y/N], I think I still feel that way.”, a rosy blush swept over the man’s face you wanted to hear say these things so many times and so long ago.

“No. No. No. You shouldn’t! I shouldn’t either! I have to go.” The reality of the situation caught up to you. This was bad. Incredibly bad. Still the disgusting feeling of hope within this made its way up to your head. Stinging alongside the feeling of remorse, you didn’t think clearly, especially now, next to him.

You darted in the fastest way possible from the pavilion up to the hotel to your room, leaving him there.

Today should be the final day. The hopes that already should have been buried a long time ago, crawled up again and clawed its way into your mind. What if he leaves her for you today? Like in those unrealistic rom coms. Yes, again, it was unrealistic.

Leaving her at the altar and running after you. While all those thoughts of hope and wishes came together you found yourself with a stomachache. His fiancée was an incredibly nice person, sweet and kind along with being a beauty. You shouldn’t even dare to think about Sangyeon that way anymore, she deserved a lot more. Quite honestly, you felt pathetic. Who were you to run into their possible future?

Just because of a simple brush over the lips, his eyes staring into yours like no one else existed but you and his soft hands delicately touching your waist. A tap on your shoulder put you out of your trance, “[Y/N]? Can you go up to Sangyeon’s room? He asked for you.” Kevin’s eyes glanced at you with uncertainty. Neither you nor he knew why he wanted to see you.

Even more importantly, why did he need to see you alone? This seemed like dangerous territory after, basically yesterday. Agony rose again, what if he really was going to leave her?

“Sure, I don’t know why he wants to see me again though.”, you said and left to see the groom’s room. You stumbled more and more over every step closer to the door of the man who’s going to rip your heart and air out of your lungs. The normally soft laid out carpet felt in this moment like you were stepping barefoot over glass. There was the door, brightly painted in eggshell paired with the digits of the hotel room.

Before you could reach the door to knock on it, light brown waves greeted your overtly surprised face.

“You clean up well.”, Sangyeon’s rang in your ears clearer than freshly hung-up laundry in your nose. His previously concerned face curled up into a faint smile.

“Same goes for you”, you tried your best to hide the very apparent frog in your throat, “So, why do you need me?”

“Just needed to see you before going out there, I guess.”, his voice got a lot quieter. It got silent.

Not sure if a said word was necessary, you plopped down on a small, velvety stool. Every whisper was to be heard. An otherness surrounded Sangyeon, like he wasn’t there anymore, and his thoughts took over his being. You scooted closer towards him, just wanting to see him up close for the last time like this, smelling his earthy cologne from this distance.

“Why are you doing this to me?”, your voice went close to hoarse after the question. He was just as silent as before. No sound, nothing. This torment of a weekend was supposed to end with no gratification, not feeling free from this feeling on your chest? Your hand slid over his, the most desperate attempt to get his attention while also experiencing his touch again. Sangyeon jerked his hand back and returned to his absent posture.

“Why do you want to hurt me like this? I am your best friend, and you use me like I’m nothing.” The lack of power you had now made you sink down to the beige teddy carpet. Small tears started swelling up in your nearly dry eyes, kind of contradictory, yet the more tear drops rolled down your cheeks the rottener and hollow you felt.

“You were my best friend until you-.”, he stopped midsentence, “made me feel things again I didn’t need, I didn’t want.” Also his face was wet, ridden with tears making his usually calm and cheerful persona look like a painful insult.

“You asked me here. It hurts, Sangyeon. I can’t make it stop hurting, I don’t know what to do”, you reached for him again, “Could I ever be enough for you?” He returned your former attempts to stroke your face. Cornering both of you, the air trapped you in the toxins of heartbreak and hopelessness.

Once again, Sangyeon’s hand glid over your soft skin and halted on your face. Glaringly staring into each other’s eyes, you were there again. The day before, yesterday. Close to baring the soul of each person present.

“[Y/N], it’s not about being enough. It never has been. I have made a commitment I already broke, I…I can’t do this”, he sighed, “you know I love her.”

“I thought you loved me as well.” Overwhelming nothingness overruled you, almost scaring you about this reaction. You weren’t crying, yelling nor having any physical reaction at all. It was convincingly numb; the resting hurt would come later. Sangyeon’s head dropped in the dip of your shoulder and neck.

This sort of closeness would never happen again. You feeling him breathing into you while having his comforting heartbeat close to yours.

“I do, but I can’t do this to her. I would never do this to her.”, he whispered into your shoulder. A sigh came from his side.

“Then, please. Kiss me, for the last time.” The last part of the sentence left a disgustingly bitter taste in your mouth. This was over, right? His head, which was formerly resting on your shoulder, drifted up and towards yours. Also his expression blank and hollow, like he didn’t know anything.

For the last time, his hands cupped your face in a comfortable manner. As always, he felt homely, but he surely wasn’t yours ever. Not even waiting a good second or two, the light brunette’s face came closer to yours. With no hesitation both of your lips touched tenderly, releasing every sort of affection that could be expressed at that second. You inhaled again his intoxicating scent, in the hopes of having him all over you. His now reddened lips moved closer towards your jawline making you gasp for air.

Also, you weren’t completely still, constantly shifting your hands up and down over his torso upwards his neck, desperately feeling everything, you can for the last time. Sangyeon’s locks tickled you softly while he suddenly latched his mouth onto your neck right below your ear.

“No. Please, I just want a kiss on my lips.”, you said lowly, closely resembling a whine afterwards. He complied pretty quickly, leaving you with no thought but him tickling your bottom lip with his warm tongue. With him being this fast, you didn’t want to keep him on his toes. Entirely engaged in this moment, hands surprised you again on your waist, wandering closer and closer under the blouse you were wearing. You moaned into the kiss, making him take the opportunity to maneuver his tongue into your mouth.

Similarly to you, he was also stunned for a short moment when you grabbed up onto some strands of hair. A sigh left his now plump lips, a need of fresh air arrived onto both of you. Yet this was short lived, his hands captured your chin and attached his lips again onto yours in a matter of mere seconds. A bell rang, close footsteps to be heard across the floor reminding you of the situation you were in.

“Why am doing this? I am so sorry.”, you broke off his lips and took a step backwards at the door.

“[Y/N], we both did this, and it won’t happen again. We just need some time without each other. I think it would be for the best if we don’t spend time together alone anymore.”

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing? I don’t know what to say. I-.”, His lips captured yours again fast with a lot more force behind his kiss.

A strong arm shut the about to be opened door again and hovered over your head. The other one caught grabbed your chin with an almost contradictory feeling to it, the lightest touch just to shove you into his direction. You sighed into his lips, waiting for him to commit with his tongue one more time. Buttery lips pressed against yours and clang inside your mouth. Fiercely did your tongues meet, ending with him sucking on yours. Wet cheeks batting against each other with no intent of separating, your movement still came to a halt.

“You know what? I hate this. I want you to be happy, then if it is with her, I will just y’know…go or uhm mind my business.”, you slurred the last part. It wasn’t really one of your most prideful moments. Still flushed with tears and embarrassment you dropped again against the room door.

“I ask for one condition though,” incredibly hearse was your voice after the crying and even more so because of your follow up, “I do not not want to see you for some time, I don’t want to have to see your face ever again.” Tears weren’t anymore swelling up in your eyes, they never seemed to stop running down with no chance of leaving this conversation with an ounce of self-respect and pride.

It wasn’t even really much of a problem to leave him behind for a bit, it most likely would be for the best anyway, yet while his words should only leave a small mark and feel like a ripped off band aid, you felt alone. A sense of loneliness crept stealthily into you leaving you with nothing but a severe feeling of dread.

“If that is what you want, I’ll respect that.” The room got quieter till you heard the last of his words: “Of course, I still want you in on my wedding though, you’re still my best friend.” Sangyeon’s usual soft and kind smile appeared on his face, seemingly reaching you an olive branch. The former assertiveness and confidence drained through the conversation; you were nothing but a wreck.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

The ceremony was beautiful. Fairy like flowers were hung all across the beach space, making the place more surreal than it was to begin with. Everything light with a hint of light green and an even lighter lavender tone. The air seemed to have evaporated all the tension and sadness from your face. All across the seats were relatives and friends sitting with a nervously happy face. Ironically, he really thought it was going to be you someday.

“You’re [Y/N], right? Everyone always tried to introduce me to you. Now we’re sitting next to each other at Sangyeon’s wedding together! I’m Juyeon by the way.”

#lee sangyeon x reader #sangyeon x reader #lee sangyeon #sangyeon #tbz #tbz fic #tbz angst #the boyz fic #the boyz #the boyz au #the boyz scenarios #sangyeon x you #sangyeon x y/n #the boyz x reader #sangyeon tbz #the boyz kevin #the boyz juyeon #moon kevin #lee juyeon

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heart-of-gold-outlaw · 4 years ago

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Welcome Home | Chapter Ten: Still Breathing

Finally—finally—, the day comes to rescue Sean. You honestly don’t know what to expect. Most of the others in camp aren’t much help, referring to Sean with a roll of their eyes and something along the lines of: “half a mind to let the bounty hunters keep him.”

They should be saying that about Micah, you think to yourself as you watch Charles and Arthur saddle their horses. Maybe then Dutch’ll kick him out.

Still, Sean is a bit of a wildcard to you. You won’t figure out what he’s really like until you meet him, and until then, you decide to keep an open mind. Worst case scenario? He’s Micah’s long-lost brother. Best case scenario? He’s… well. Maybe it’s best not to think about all the things he could be. Keep yourself on your toes.

You sit on a tree stump while the boys get ready. Taima is an absolute beauty of a horse, and you can tell by the way Charles dotes on her that she’s got a good life. Briefly, thoughts of having a horse of your own cross your mind. That appaloosa gelding is probably still for sale in Valentine. Maybe if you can get enough money, you can buy him.

Arthur and Charles take their sweet time packing more than enough ammo, which means you quickly get bored. Every scratchy detail on the tree stump bothers you, too. Hopping to your feet, you decide to get some chores done. Everyone’s been so preoccupied with the big upcoming rescue, they’ve neglected some of the finer details in camp.

The ax is in its usual spot, surrounded by whole logs that need to be chopped. You grab ahold of the handle. It feels lighter than it used to, and you realize you’re getting stronger.

Goodbye noodle arms, you think as you bring the ax down on to the first log. You don’t quite split it, but it’s getting closer than ever. And hello Jack Lumber.

A few chops in, you feel the muscles in the back of your neck tense. Someone’s behind you, and you’re not quite sure who. But soon enough, a low, sinister chuckle reaches your ears. Micah.

“Well,” he says. “Looks like the camp nuisance is finally doing some work.”

You slowly count to three before turning around. Micah stands by you, a little too close for your liking, and he’s got a smirk on his face that twists your gut something awful. You’ve started wearing a gun belt, and the hand that isn’t holding the ax inadvertently twitches toward your revolver.

“You know something, Y/N?” He takes a step toward you. “I think you’re starting to wear out your welcome.”

Fire ignites in your chest. No. No. Micah doesn’t get to do this, try and make you second-guess yourself and your place in the gang—especially not after you’ve just started feeling comfortable.

“Back off, you useless mineral,” you hiss.

Micah’s lips curl into a snarl as he takes another step toward you. This one feels infinitely more threatening, and you barely keep yourself from taking a step back. You’ll be damned if Micah wins this fight.

“Take another step,” you warn, “and I’ll jump rope with your intestines.”

Honestly, you don’t really expect him to feel threatened, but the odd choice in words is enough to throw him off. You can see him trying to process everything you said, which gives you enough time to throw the ax down and skedaddle.

Your heart thuds frantically in your chest as you hurry to Arthur and Charles. Micah won’t try anything if you’re with them; that much, you know for sure.

“We ready to go?” You ask as nonchalantly as you can. “If I chop one more piece of wood, I’ll have to start wearing flannel.”

Charles looks confused at “flannel,” but Arthur frowns as he glances over at the chopping block. His expression hardens when he sees Micah storming away.

“Micah giving you trouble?” He asks, a hint of something dangerous in his voice.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” You go to lean against the hitching post, miss, and almost topple over. Face burning, you settle for folding your arms over your chest.

Arthur and Charles exchange looks.

“If he tries anything,” Charles tells you, calm and steady, “let us know. We’ll take care of it.”

We’ll take care of it. How a statement so simple and so general can sound that dangerous, you’ll never know. You wordlessly nod, not knowing how to respond.

Charles leaves, then, to go saddle Taima. You look to Arthur, ready to follow him to Florence, who’s already tacked up and ready. But he doesn’t move.

“Micah been buggin’ you a lot?”

You shake your head. “Not really. I mean, he gave me a hard time when I was cleaning up Pearson’s wagon a while ago, but Hosea scared him off.”

Arthur turns to look at you. “And today?”

“Oh.” You think back to the confrontation. “Well, he called me the ‘camp nuisance’ and said I was starting to wear out my welcome.”

A glint of fury flashes through Arthur’s eyes as he throws a glare in Micah’s general direction. You shiver involuntarily. Thank goodness you’re not on a certain cowboy’s bad side.

“I’ve been called worse, to be honest,” you say with a shrug, and smile slightly when Arthur looks at you again. “I’m kinda used to it.”

He gives you a troubled frown instead of sharing your nonchalance. Confused, you feel your smile waver a little.

“What?” You ask.

“You…” Arthur begins, trails off, then continues: “You know it ain’t true, right?”

“What isn’t?”

“The part about being a nuisance. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either.”

Something pulls at your heart, something strong, and you’re suddenly at a loss for words. You’ve had so many doors slammed in your face, so many people come and go, never staying, never even wanting to stay… And you couldn’t do anything but watch them leave.

“Oh,” is all you manage around a tight throat.

Arthur looks at you some more. His eyes are soft now, soft and full of what you think is understanding. He reaches out, maybe to put a hand on your shoulder, but apparently thinks better of it and instead motions for you to follow him. You trail a little behind as he walks toward Florence. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either. Did… did Arthur really mean that? Does that mean the rest of the gang, minus Micah, feels the same way? You can’t help but shake your head in wonder. You don’t think you’ll ever understand these people.

Once you catch up, Arthur easily swings himself on top of Florence, then hauls you into the saddle behind him. You’re starting to get used to horseback. Florence may be absolutely massive, but you don’t feel so unsteady anymore. In fact, you might actually like riding.

“We’re meeting up with Javier just outside of Blackwater,” Charles says as he brings Taima over. “Trelawney thinks the bounty hunters will bring Sean upriver.”

Arthur nods and sets a steady trot out of camp. “Good. We can probably cut ‘em off when they reach the border. I think there’s a canyon that’ll give us some decent cover.”

“Any luck, we’ll take them by surprise.” Charles urges Taima into a canter, which Florence matches. “How many do you think there’ll be?”

“For Sean?” Arthur laughs, and you try not to look too enamored. “Any pair of fools could handle him. But there’ll be a lot of ‘em, no doubt.”

Charles hums in thought, but doesn’t say anything else. Much of the ride passes in comfortable silence. Although you want to focus on admiring the scenery and marvel at the lack of, well, everything, you find yourself thinking about the upcoming fight. You may not know a lot about the past, but you’ve seen enough Westerns to know bounty hunters always put up a hell of a fight. That, and they always keep coming right when you think you’ve killed them all.

Your revolver suddenly feels heavy in its holster. You bite your lip, a little unsure. Yes, you’ve used it once at Six Point Cabin, and yes, you’ve managed to hit a few bottles, but those were honestly lucky shots. And neither of them were shooting back.

Bounty hunters, though? Different story. For as much bravado as you showed Dutch during his little tirade, you have to admit that you’re a little nervous. It’ll be your first real gunfight. You’ll have Arthur and Charles looking out for you, but you can’t help the anxiety knotting deep in your gut.

If I die, I die, you think. No going back now.

///

Conversation lags for the remainder of the ride. Eventually, after crossing a small river, you’re in what Arthur tells you is West Elizabeth. It looks… well, it looks like a perfect snapshot of a history textbook. Rolling hills and open land, bison… it’s absolutely stunning.

Off in the distance, you see two people looking over the edge of a cliff. You recognize Javier, but you don’t recognize the other man, with his mustache and mischievous eyes. He smiles when he sees Arthur and Charles, then peers at you curiously.

“And who might this be?” He asks as Arthur dismounts, leaving you alone atop Florence.

Your brain goes into a blue screen of death, and before you know what you’re doing, you say: “My name is an enigma and holds all the secrets of the universe.”

“That would be Y/N,” Arthur says, exasperated. He helps you down and grabs his rifle from the saddle. “Y/N, this is Josiah Trelawney.”

Trelawney bows with a flourish. “At your service, my dear.”

You instantly decide you like him. Waving hello to Javier, you approach the edge of the cliff, crouching low like everyone else.

“Sean?” Arthur asks as he looks down the scope of his rifle.

“I think he’s in that boat over there.” Javier gestures to a small vessel upriver. “Think they’re docking to take him further inland.”

Arthur turns the scope, then gives a hum of confirmation. “That’s him alright. Giving those bounty hunters hell.”

Trelawney nods and rises before mounting his horse. Setting a slow walk, he motions for everyone to follow him. Arthur helps you on to Florence, and then you’re off once more.

“If we do this right,” Trelawney says, “we can cut them off. Remember: we’re just innocent folk out for a ride on the trail. Let’s not draw their attention just yet.”

The five of you ride toward a canyon. Ahead, you can see the boat docked at the shore, along with several well-armed, intimidating bounty hunters standing guard. They don’t look like they’re in much of a mood to negotiate. In fact, they look ready to shoot on sight.

Everyone takes cover around the bend. Trelawney, odd man that he is, seems more preoccupied with his coat than the problem at hand.

“Now ain’t the time for a fashion statement,” Arthur drawls.

“Au contraire, my dear fellow,” Trelawney says with a smile. “Bounty hunters are even more gullible than hillbillies. I have to look the part if I’m going to make the proper distraction.”

Then, before any of you can say a word otherwise, Trelawney strides confidently toward the bounty hunters. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you just know he’s spinning a tale bigger than the Grizzlies. He waves his arms in a grandiose gesture. In another situation, you would have mistaken it for part of the act. But now, along with Arthur, Charles, and Javier, you recognize it for what it is: a signal.

Arthur fires a quick shot, striking one of the bounty hunters between the eyes. From there, it’s chaos. All you can hear is the sound of gunfire and shouting. You take cover behind a rock, firing your revolver without really trying to hit anything. You don’t know if any of your bullets find their marks. Honestly? Probably not.

“Let’s push up on ‘em,” Arthur commands.

You stick close by him as you make your way up the canyon. The bounty hunters have regrouped by now, which lets them put up more of a fight. A bullet whizzes by your ear—too close for you to ignore—and you yelp and duck further into cover.

Arthur quickly lays down some cover fire, then hauls you up and pulls you behind a larger rock. You don’t even have time to tell him thank you. The firefight picks up again, bullets flying, ricocheting, sometimes hitting their targets, sometimes hitting the canyon walls. It takes nearly all your self-control to keep a level head.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Javier reloading his guns, but also just barely peeking out of cover. You look up the canyon trail. There, off in the distance, half-hidden by gun smoke and dust, you can just barely make out the silhouette of a bounty hunter—and he’s aiming right at Javier.

You steel yourself. You’re not some useless coward who needs to be protected. You’re a member of the Van Der Linde Gang—an outlaw. And one of your own is in danger.

Your anxiety flees, replaced by determination. Edging ever-so-slightly out of cover, you fire off a shot toward the bounty hunter, then duck back behind the boulder. A pained yell tells you that you hit your mark, and it’s followed by silence.

Javier looks at the fallen bounty hunter, then at you. He nods his head in thanks. Smiling, you tip your fingers in a mock-salute, then follow Arthur as he pushes further up the canyon.

It doesn’t take long for your little group to reach a clearing. Right away, you see someone dangling upside down from a tree. He’s also surrounded by vicious-looking men who you would honestly rather avoid.

Well,you think to yourself. That must be Sean.

The bounty hunters have been expecting you, and they fire several warning shots into the tree line. You duck behind the trunk of a massive pine. To your right, you see Arthur considering the situation, trying to figure out the best approach. On your left, Javier and Charles wait on a signal. You don’t know what happened to Trelawney, but you think he’s alright.

“If we can get around them,” Arthur eventually says, “we can come at them from all sides.”

Javier grins. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

Charles gives him a look. “Only the fish can shoot back.”

Arthur nods, then looks back toward the clearing. “Someone’s gotta get to Sean quick as they can. I got a feeling he’s gonna be bait.”

“I’ll do it,” you tell him. “There’s enough cover behind that tree he’s tied up in. I’ll be fine.”

For a long, long moment, Arthur looks uncertain. But when you give him a pleading look, silently begging him to let you prove yourself, he sighs and folds the cards.

“Alright,” he agrees. “Wait until you got a clear opening, then go for it.”

Everyone heads off in opposite directions, leaving you to prepare yourself for the sprint of the century. One by one, the boys shoot the bounty hunters, hitting each with impeccable aim. Then, almost before you’re ready, you spy the perfect opportunity.

Making a beeline for Sean, you dive behind the tree just as the bullets start flying again. You sit there for a few seconds, catching your breath. You can’t believe you’re still alive. All that time in open space, and not a single scratch on you.

“It’s over!” You hear one of the bounty hunters shout.

He sounds dangerously close to you. Peeking around the tree, you see him standing not a foot away, pointing his rifle at Sean.

Shit.

You duck back into hiding before you’re spotted. This is exactly what you didn’twant to happen, and it happened anyway. Wracking your brain for ideas, you look around for anything that could be of use.

Think think think think think think—

There’s a corpse not too far from you, and you spy a knife on its belt. Moving purely on instinct and adrenaline, you snatch it from its sheath, turn back to the bounty hunter, and shove it through his throat right in the middle of his next sentence. He stays on his feet for maybe a second longer, then collapses.

You slowly back away from him. Dimly, you realize that the fire fight is over, that everyone else is okay, but you can’t bring yourself to focus on that. All you can do is stare at the body on the ground… the man you just killed.

“You alright there, friend?” Sean asks, still upside down.

“Uh,” your voice sounds far away to your own ears, “yeah. I’m fine.”

After that, you have maybe five seconds before your stomach lurches. Doubling over, you heave violently for a while before coughing, spitting out the taste in your mouth, and wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

“Hiya Sean. I’m Y/N.”

Accompanying Music: Still Breathing | Green Day

Ko-Fi

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fic #welcome home

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cazzyvintage · 4 years ago

Note

Cazzy, dear! Congratulations on your 900 followers! You deserve it! You writing is fantastic and the writer herself is a sweetie! 💛💛💛 I don't know if you are still taking requests but I wanted to request anything from the smut list with Sebastian Zöllner 👀 (i swear that I tried to pick one but as I was reading the list i just "ohhh this is nice" at least 20 times so... yeah)

Thank you, Artemis 🥺 you are so amazing and kind!

I couldn't decide either 😅 so I consulted @rumblelibrary on the matter and we decided to go with the smut quote, "I couldn't stop thinking about you all day" and the 'Sex in car' so here we go!

It was a normal Saturday.

The radio quietly played in the background as you cleaned the plates from when you had been making an apple crumble which now sat half-eaten on the countertop. Your cat, Mittens, walks between your legs, rubbing up against you in an attempt to try and con more food out of you.

You giggled at her effort, bending down to give her a scratch on the top of her head which had her purring.

You glanced out of the window in front of you, sighing happily as you watched your prized roses lightly sway in the wind, the way the letterbox that you had painted yourself fitted in with the colour scheme of your house made you abundantly happy.

Yes, this was a normal Saturday afternoon.

Until it wasn't.

You watched in shock as a car rounded the corner, and though it had lots of space, it managed to drive straight into your letterbox, subsequently knocking it over.

"What the fuck!" you yell, almost dropping the plate in your hand in surprise. Quickly after placing it down, you picked up the end of your skirts to run quickly to your front door and confront the driver, but as you opened the door you saw a man you had hoped you'd never see again.

"Y/n!" he yelled gleefully, throwing his arms up into the air in excitement.

You groaned, closing your eyes for a second, hoping, praying that when you opened them he wouldn't be there, but when you did he was still there, lifting his sunglasses up and down on his eyes smiling at you.

"Are you drunk?" is your first few words to him, causing him to frown in confusion,

"No?"

"You don't sound very sure"

"I'm confused as to why you would think such things!"

You point to your broken letterbox but Sebastian just scoffs and waves it off.

"I'm not drunk, I'm high!"

"High???"

"High! High on love my dear y/n"

You sighed, once again closing your eyes hoping that this wasn't happening.

"Sebastian, we've been broken up for three years now"

"And you have been on my mind ever since, every year, every month, every day. Like today, I couldn't stop thinking about you all day"

"You're crazy"

"Perhaps, but I've come to take you away, come let's go" he urges, opening the passenger's seat for you to get in but you shake your head.

"I'm not going anyway with you Sebastian"

"Sebastian, Sebastian" he mutters, "Why Sebastian, you always called me Seb before"

"When we were dating, we are no longer dating after you stole that money from me"

"I was going to give it back!"

You scoff, knowing very well he wouldn't and from the look of his worn, messy suit that was almost falling off him, he still didn't have much money, which made you frown at the expensive car beside them.

"Sebastian... where did you get that car?"

"I stole it from my ex-girlfriend"

"You did what?" you exclaim, not believing he could surprise you anymore, yet he did.

"Here look, come with me in the car and we'll take it back together"

"No! There is no need for me to come you should do it on your own"

"But I might not! I might drive somewhere completely different, but if you are there I'll make sure to drive to the correct place"

You bite your lip, a part of you saying you should go, while a part of you said you shouldn't.

"I'd have no way to get back home" you mutter,

"I'll pay for your taxi, she'll pay!"

You sigh and resign yourself to its fate and quickly get into the car. Sebastian smiles widely at you and quickly runs to the other side of the car and gets in.

At first, the car ride was awkward, with Sabastian trying to talk to you, and you effectively ignoring him until he resulted in turning on the music in the car.

You almost chuckled as you heard the familiar sound of the Bay City Rollers 'Saturday night' starting to play through the speakers, fitting for today.

Sebastian rolled down his car window and stuck his head out, enjoying the feeling of the wind rushing through his hair though it made you anxious about his driving. As the lyrics started he shouted them out to the wind.

"S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night!, S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night!"

You rolled your eyes at his excitement and Sabastian caught it, "Come on! Sing along. You're not going to tell me you've now gone off the Bay City Rollers, you used to sing to me 'Bye-bye baby' all the time, I certainly listened to it a lot after you left"

A soft smile breaks out upon your face as you start to sway to the music and watch how much Sebastian was enjoying himself. It was almost like the good old days when you two were together and it made your heartache missing them.

"Sing!" he exclaimed, looking back over to you, and you just had to give in.

"At the good ol' rock and roll, Folk show, I've gotta go!, Saturday night, Saturday night" you sing alongside him, the mood of the song lifting your spirits a lot.

That's how you and Sebastian spent your trip, driving through landscapes blasting music as loud as you could, singing your hearts out until finally, he pulled in on a ledge on a hill, looking out over a landscape.

"Sebastian this isn't-" you begin but he cuts you off before you could state you weren't at his ex's house.

"I know, I know, I lied, it's just... I really missed you, I missed us, this. It's, it's not the same without you y/n"

You shake your head, feeling your heart falling, "Seb, don't do this, please"

"Why not? We both want this"

"I can't set myself up for heartbreak again"

He licks his lips and then grasps your hand tightly. "I promise y/n, I can change, I won't steal your money again, I won't runoff. Please, Let me have another chance"

He gave you those goddam pleading, puppy dog eyes, tears welling up. He knew how to play you like a fiddle and of course, you gave into him.

Nodding, a smile broke out onto his face and instantly he grasped your face and pulled it onto his, kissing you passionately. You reached up and grabbed his long hair, wrapping it in your fingers and tugging it making him moan into your mouth. After a bit, he tried to push himself nearer you but there wasn't enough space.

"Let's take this to the back," you say and he nod's excitingly.

Getting out of the front of the car, it hardly took you a second till you both were in the back, and you found yourself lying down on the back seats as Seb pushed your skirt up to your thighs and slowly pulled your pants off.

You had to hold onto the side of the seat as you gasped when you felt his tongue lick your sensitive area, twisting upon your clit before diving into your cunt, quickly lapping at you.

His fingers tightened around your thighs as he pushed his mouth into you, determined to have you cum on his face.

Say all the bad stuff you want about Seb, but one thing he always knew how to do well was eat you out, he was an expert at it. In only a few minutes he had you quivering before him, calling out his name, and oh the wonders that did to him, hearing his name upon your lips, it made him more eager, pushing his tongue as far as he could inside of you until you were coming on his face.

He licked up as much as he could before finally pulling his face out of your legs and slowly climbing on top of you to kiss you again, letting you taste yourself upon him.

With one hand he interlocked his fingers with yours, holding you gently and with the other he undid his fly and pulled himself out, slotting his legs between your thighs to start pushing into you.

You cried out and let out a loud moan feeling the way he stretched you out, and Seb also heaved and moaning into your neck as he trailed kisses upon it.

"Oh god, how I've missed you y/n. I've missed this so much"

"No one has ever been the same" you gasp as he starts to move his hips thrusting into yours slow as first, but then picking up the pace.

"That's because you were meant for me, no one else could satisfy you the way I do, and no one else ever will get a chance to"

"I'm all yours" you exclaimed in the heat of the moment, and at hearing your words he eagerly pushed his hand under your skirt to rub your clit, making your back arch from blinding, please.

"Seb- I'm going, I'm going to"

He grunted as he pushed into you as hard as he could "Same" was all he was able to say before you felt his seed spill into you as he stilled and the feeling of him cumming within you was enough to send you into your own blinding pleasure, your eyes rolling back as you let out a loud moan.

Eventually, he collapsed onto you, breathing heavily as he pressed lots of kisses upon your face, saying how beautiful and amazing you were,

You sighed, wrapping your arm around him to hold him close. You knew he wouldn't keep his promises, you knew he would run off eventually, that's just who he was, but at least for now, you got a chance to pretend that wasn't so.

#sebastian zollner #sebastian zollner x reader #sebastian zöllner #sebastian zollner x y/n #sebastian zollner smut #sebastian zöllner x y/n #sebastian zöllner smut #daniel bruehl #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl

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rodeo-boots · 4 years ago

Note

hello my dear! i was hoping if i could request some charthur! in many fics i see arthur constantly being comforted by charles, but never the other way around... so many, you could write charles returning back to camp injured/tired, and arthur has to care for him for the night? 🥺 i would love to see some trans!charles as well, but i won't ask for too much... nsfw is welcome, and as always, feel free to let your wonderful brain work its magic with any other ideas you have <3

Thank you so much for your request hny, I hope I did your idea justice <3

Rating: Teen and Up

Words: 3122

Warnings: mild gore, angst

AO3

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Beaver Hollow was a shithole. The air was humid and dense, the mood at camp even lower than the temperatures could get during the nights. Arthur positively hated it, wished they had another choice but to take camp at such a spot. Breathing was getting harder for him by the day and some nights, he rode out only to take a deep breath of fresh air in the wide open meadows elsewhere.

He much preferred being anywhere but at camp, preferred to be far far away from Dutch and Micah, from those friends of his – whatever they might be called. These days, he couldn't even exchange a proper word with Javier or Bill anymore, met with stubborn phrases of loyalty whenever he dared to cross their paths.

The only reasonable people left were getting ready to pack up and leave, and Arthur wished they had done so earlier. He wished Molly had taken that chance while she still had it, wished that John and Abigail and Jack would be long gone by now. Not much longer, and he wouldn't be able to help them anymore, would succumb to the illness nesting within his chest and die the death that's always been destined for him.

He only saw one glimpse of hope and that was Charles, Charles who's loyalty had never solely belonged to Dutch but to a life of freedom. His only reason for being here was the younger man these days, the younger man who rightfully preferred to be anywhere but here himself. He had work on his hands, had assigned himself way too many tasks at once, trying to help out the Wapiti reservation while wanting to provide for the last folks at camp here.

Arthur wished he could help him, but just like Sadie, Charles treated him as though he was already standing in the grave.

Today, Arthur was solely here to catch up with Charles, like he was most of the time. He missed him, missed the times they had once spent together in a past that had been much better than what one might dream up now. All they could do was dream at this point, though Arthur's sleep was plagued by nightmares most of the time.

He had waited an entire day, had asked Sadie just before she could ride off to town. No one knew where Charles was, and by the time Micah saw him trail around camp like a lost puppy one time too many, he took it upon himself to finally give him an explanation.

"Your sweetheart's out huntin', got a little caught up it seems." The man grinned at him with his foul, yellow teeth, Arthur rewarding him with a grunt before he turned on his heel. If that was the case, and Charles had been out for days by now, something couldn't be right. The man was the best hunter they had, the best tracker left at camp. And no one seemed to care about the prospect of having lost him.

Arthur shook Micah off his tail, climbing into the saddle of his horse without missing a beat. Even though he wasn't as talented a tracker as Charles, the man had taught him a few tricks in the past, hopefully enough to come in handy now. He departed without looking back, spurring on his stallion with his heels firmly pressed into his flanks. Arthur snapped the reins, further on edge now than he had been all day. He had a bad feeling about all of this.

It took a while until he had picked up a trail of hooves, unsure if he even could identify them accordingly. His vision swam more regularly these days, his head feeling heavy as he peered down the side of his horse. He felt like he was getting sea-sick but he pushed on nonetheless, having only one goal in mind and that goal being Charles' safety.

All the time they had known each other, they had guarded one another's back better than their own. Arthur had no problem watching out for his friend, though Charles was way more than that to him.

They had ridden out together one too many times, had shared too many stories of the past and plans of the future to consider their relationship as professional and distant as it was meant to be. Often enough, they had kept each other warm at night, had shared their secrets and their doubts, and had listened to what the other had upon his heart.

Arthur's own now beat frantically in his chest. He hadn't noticed how tears had begun to cloud his vision the further he rode. It might be the wind stinging in his eyes, but the air was perfectly still. He brushed the back of his hand over his eyes, blinked, caught his breath and pushed onward. After all the time that had passed, he couldn't be sure how far Charles might've ridden, least of all with a fast horse like Taima beneath him.

He just hoped they were okay.

Day soon shifted into night, and without a trail to follow now that his eyes were no longer of use, Arthur decided to settle down. He didn't bother setting up his tent, didn't bother with much more than a small campfire to stay warm. His nose was running within the cold but he ignored that, too, staring down at his own two feet while his arms loosely hugged his knees to his chest.

A sound from aside tore him out of his thoughts, made his head snap up and his hand instinctively drop to his gun belt. "Who's there?" He asked, rasped more accurately, coughing against the scratchiness of his throat. Maybe he really shouldn't be out here, but it was much too late to turn back around.

He pushed himself up, his bicep quivering beneath his weight, the rustling within the bushes stopping, until a figure pushed through all the way. "Arthur?" He could identify Charles' voice well enough, would never be able to forget it, cursing under his breath as he stumbled to his legs to catch him. The man had to have found him with the last of his strength, had to have followed the smoke and the scent of the campfire until he'd eventually seen him.

Arthur couldn't tell what was wrong from one glance alone, pulling Charles closer to the campfire to examine him. It was dark by now, cold, the humidity making way for temperatures that were much too cruel for most humans to endure. But Arthur knew he was going to die anyways.

"Christ– what's happened t'you?" He muttered, not even daring to ask where Taima might be now. Charles' shirt was left in pieces, torn and bloodied, scratches and what appeared like bitemarks upon his skin. "A cougar?" Arthur asked, laying his friend's head down in his lap while peering down at him with concern in his eyes. The tears were back, but he didn't acknowledge them.

"Murfrees," Charles' voice came, little more than a gust of air, meeting Arthur's cheek as he spoke. The man tried to sit himself up, pushing at Arthur's upper arm to give him space. And while Arthur backed away enough to allow him to breathe, he didn't let him put any more strain on his wounds. He hadn't gotten much of a look at them until now. "What're you doing out here, Arthur? You shouldn't–"

Arthur softly shook his head, muffling a cough with the back of his hand. "Don't talk," he muttered, grabbing for the knife on his belt to help the other man out of his shirt. "S'this okay?" He asked quietly before bringing the blade to the hem of Charles' shirt, watching him swallow until he got a small nod in reply.

His lungs rattled when he exhaled, leaning further above his friend to cut through what was left of his shirt, his breath catching at the gruesome sight of his torso. "How bad's it hurt?" he murmured, catching onto the sweat upon Charles' forehead and the strain in his eyes. He knew he had to act fast if he wanted to help him, able to see that his wounds already had started to swell and shape bruises. When his friend only hummed, his eyelids fluttering in a way that made Arthur's chest constrict painfully, he reached for his satchel right away, pulling out the last bit of alcohol he carried.

Arthur didn't wish to do anything that might make his friend uncomfortable, but he couldn't exactly ignore the deep gashes on his chest, mumbling an apology while ripping fabric off his shirt and drenching it in alcohol. "Hold still," he advised, biting down on his lower lip as he started to clean up the wounds, applying minimal pressure and stopping every time Charles stirred beneath him.

He had never seen the other man in so much pain, had never seen him as vulnerable to begin with, cursing under his breath when he didn't find a set of bandages where he had thought they'd be. "Hang on–" Arthur got to his legs, cushioning Charles' head on his rolled-up bedroll before stumbling over to his horse, his vision clouded by black and white specks.

These days, he couldn't move as swiftly as he was used to anymore, grabbing the saddle for support and gritting his teeth, his free hand slipping into his saddlebag to blindly feel around for the bandages he hoped he carried. He returned to Charles' side right away, falling to his knees in front of him, not caring for the mud that smeared his shins and knees, hands shaking as he unraveled the bandages.

"You'll be alright– jus' hold on," he kept on muttering, even though Charles' eyes had long since fallen shut, his breaths much too shallow for him to see. "It's okay, please…" he wrapped the bandages around his torso, covering all the open gashes he could find, his muscles quivering when he lifted Charles' body ever so slightly. The man was deadweight in his arms, Arthur's lip trembling while his throat grew tighter, swallowing down a sob when he laid the other man down again.

Arthur took off his jacket, covering Charles as well as he could before taking his hands off of him entirely. "Charles? Charles… are you with me?" He couldn't stop himself from reaching out, cupping the man's cheek in his hand, his features peaceful, though that wouldn't calm Arthur just now. His skin looked much too pale, what he could see of it through the illumination of the campfire light at least, running his thumb over his chin as his eyes stayed on the other man.

"Don't you give up on me now," he whispered, his eyes glazing over further. "I– I need you, Charles." And while he knew that the other man was unable to hear him, Arthur couldn't stop talking, the panic within his chest spiking the longer he didn't get a response. "I promised you I'd get you out of here– that we'll run away, make a life for ourselves out West." His breath rattled, a sob leaving his chest after all. Arthur dropped his head to Charles' shoulder, his hands holding onto the man's upper arms.

He tried to calm his breathing, hot tears streaming down his cheeks to seep into the jacket he had covered the other man with. "You can do it– you have to," he mumbled, his voice barely audible through the tightness of his throat. "I still— I still haven't told you I love you." His shoulders shook, keeping his face buried within Charles' shoulder as he stayed hunched over, not caring for how hard it was to breathe like this.

The night had grown darker and colder around them, merely sounds of nature audible after Arthur had passed out from exhaustion. His hand held Charles' in a loose grasp, body curled up by the other man's side to offer him more warmth. The tears had left salty traces upon Arthur's cheeks, his lashes sticking together though he had no strength to open his eyes either way.

Maybe he'd die out here, with Charles by his side, wishing and praying the man hadn't passed away already. Arthur couldn't bear the thought that he might still be breathing while his friend wasn't, the worth of his own life much less than what Charles had amounted to by now. He had only ever wished for his friends and family to be safe, for his loved ones to escape this cruel and harsh life, but it seemed there was no escape. For even when Dutch wasn't involved, people got hurt.

Arthur didn't feel how the other man's fingers moved within his grasp, how Charles squeezed his hand tighter and stirred by his side. He was far gone by now, captured by a deep sleep he hasn't had any way to fight.

It only was with a tightening hold on his shoulder that he eventually woke, turning his head away as he rasped out one cough after another into the crook of his elbow. "Arthur." Charles' voice sounded faint, like it came from far away, even if the man laid right by his side. Arthur turned again, heaving his breaths as he rolled onto his back, his gaze meeting that of the man next to him.

He swallowed thickly, knowing that his eyes had to be reddened and puffy, not only from his illness but because of the crying he had done previously. "You look… horrible," Charles whispered, letting go of his shoulder to reach down and take his hand again. His fingers were clammy, but undeniably alive where they held onto Arthur's.

"I was always ugly," Arthur responded, wheezing out a laugh that turned into another cough before he knew it. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, relief encompassing his expression, though he knew that there was no reason to believe that the worst was overcome just now. "Let's get you home," he muttered, weakly whistling for his horse that had to be somewhere nearby. They had to leave this place, get Charles back to camp to try and stitch him up, hoping that they still had the supplies to do so.

Charles held onto him, not letting go even as Arthur tried to stand, softly shaking his head when he turned to look back down at him. "Leave me," he said. "I'll only be baggage to carry–"

But Arthur wouldn't hear that. "I ain't rode out here to abandon you," he grunted, gathering Charles in his arms as well as he could, his horse already waiting by their side. "We'll get you to camp, get you back on your feet and fix this." It was hard to maneuver Charles onto his horse, the man barely able to keep himself on his own two legs. He managed, anyhow, stubbornly bringing his own body into the saddle behind the man to make sure he wouldn't fall.

"We– we don't got supplies at camp. Don't make it hard on yourself, you can't… safe everyone." Charles' head lolled back against his chest, Arthur dearly trying not to listen to the words he had spoken in an attempt to stay composed.

"Then I'll bring you to the reservation, Rains Fall will—"

"I'm not gonna take anythin' away from them." Arthur snapped the reins, pushing his heels against the flanks of his horse to get the stallion going.

He stayed quiet, brows furrowed while he concentrated on the path ahead, leading his horse through the trees as fast as he could. "I'll get you to a doctor then… just hold on." Charles didn't raise his voice again, so Arthur focused on riding for now, unwilling to face the thought of leaving his friend anywhere to die.

They arrived in Annesburg before the sun had crept too high up in the sky, Arthur stopping a man on the streets to ask for directions to the nearest doctor's office. He had slung an arm around Charles' middle to try and keep him from falling off his horse, the man seemingly passed out once again.

Urgently, Arthur followed the directions he had been given, yelling for someone to come help him once he had found the building that had been pointed out to him. From there on out, everything happened much too fast. There were hands helping him off the horse, hands that pulled Charles from his grasp before he could do or say anything. He only saw how the other man was led away from him before he collapsed on the wooden porch to the building, waving people away that tried to pull him back to his feet.

Arthur woke in a bed with clean white sheets. The room was lit by sunlight, smelling of disinfectant and cleanliness. He stirred, his head pounding nastily when he tried to sit up upon the mattress. His first thoughts belonged to Charles, though he didn't need to search for long until he saw the other occupied bed within the room, grunting as he swung his legs over the edge to stand.

With uncertain steps, he made his way over to the other man, his clothes different from before, white and clean, feeling like nothing he had ever worn in his life. Arthur sat himself down on the chair by Charles' side, able to see that his clothes had been changed, too, the visible bandages around him clean.

He reached over, taking one of the hands the man had rested upon his stomach. His motion seemed enough to rouse him, Charles' eyes blinking open slowly, the dark orbs meeting Arthur's own soon enough.

"You okay?" Charles asked, his voice heavy from disuse.

Arthur stared down at him, shaking his head in disbelief before bringing the man's hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. "You's the one who nearly died, and you're askin' me if I'm fine." The corners of Charles' mouth lifted ever so slightly, Arthur releasing a light sigh. It was a relieved sound, fueled by his belief that now everything would turn out to be okay.

"What you said to me before, in the forest. Did you mean that?"

Arthur had to think for a moment, not having expected Charles to have heard any of his words at the time, nor for him to remember now. He nodded, kissing the back of Charles' hand once again. "Every word," he whispered, not embarrassed on behalf of what had left his mouth in a moment of desperation.

"Good." Another brief smile passed over Charles' features. "Because I do, too. And I want to keep living." He disentangled his fingers from Arthur's, reaching up to gently grasp his jaw. "With you."

#charthur #charles smith #arthur morgan #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfiction #angst #tw mild gore #my writing #requests #long post

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bastillewolf · 4 years ago

Text

Corpse's Bride (I)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: When you end up in an unfortunate arranged marriage to salvage what is left of your parents’ wealth, it seems fate has other ideas in store for you; or perhaps it was the Devil who decided to bring back the dead?

Notes: Yea, I don’t know why I wrote this either, and no idea where this series is gonna go. If you have any suggestions, please send them. But I wanted to write something for Christmas since I haven’t posted in a while. I hope you all have safe and happy holidays! Let’s just get 2020 over with, please.

Tag list currently closed.

Chapter I - The wedding

Somewhere through the clouds of smoke erupting from the city, just beyond the hills, lies a small town called Gloomington. Where the streets are always swept and yet seem never clean, where birds fly high through the sky yet never manage to reach the clouds, and where dreams are crushed underneath the wheels of creaking carriages and half-empty fish barrels. It might seem like the most boring old town, with its inhabitants that look like they’re either on the brink of death or very much willing to be, but it wasn’t to you. No, to you life appeared much more interesting, though not by your own volition. You did not turn a blind eye to the grey streets or creaking bones or listening ears, as they had always been the same to you, but the troubles you had yet to bear were much too big to focus on anything else.

Your parents had deemed that on your twenty-first birthday, you were finally fit for marriage. It was the age that they had gotten married, and by tradition, through their parents as well. Why they had decided to force this upon you as well, you did not know, for as long as you could remember you’d only ever thought of your parents to be miserable together. Their time with you was now something of the past, however, because if all went well today, you would be married within just a day or two.

It was already raining, which would’ve made the situation so much gloomier to you if you hadn’t been revelling in the fact that it meant you could take the carriage instead of walk. You didn’t mind getting your shoes or the hem of your dress dirty, but other people did. And the people you would be seeing today would not approve of anything that wasn’t perfect upon arrival.

You only remembered the Everglots vaguely from your childhood during the instance when you’d been playing in a similar storm and one of their maids had shooed you away, saying you were being too loud and an unfit view for their folk. Their house was a different story, however. It stood tall above all other houses, even yours, so it was hard to miss. You weren’t rich, even though your parents liked to pretend they were. Your father owned the biggest and only fishing company in town; the main source of income from Gloomington. The thing was though, the seas were being overfished, and all he was getting from the ocean now were ones the sizes of goldfish.

You presumed this is why your parents decided to marry you off to the Everglots’ son, Thomas. According to your nanny, they were a bunch of washed-up aristocrats. Otherwise, you’d never even caught a glimpse of them, let alone of their offspring. Which is probably why you were so nervous. If he was anything like his parents personality-wise, you hoped he at least made up for it on the outside.

“Stop fidgeting,” your mother said, snapping you from your daze. You looked down to your hands, which had been crumpling a bunch of the fabric of your dress together, probably creating creases. You wonder if you had subconsciously done it, simply out of spite, because the nerves had numbed any other senses. You smoothed it out, crossed your legs and folded your hands across your lap, to which your mother gave a pleased nod.

A glance towards your father told you not much else, he was too busy going through last-minute calculations in his notebook. This must seem like ordinary business to him.

Your heart jumped a little as you watched the horse pulling your carriage nearly slip in the mud. He’d been in your family for fifteen years now, it was a wonder he was still standing. Perhaps the whip was reason enough for such a solemn animal, confined to his leather straps and iron mouthpiece. You tugged on the silver chain your mother had draped across your neck. Some of the diamonds had been taken out, but you could only see it if you looked very closely.

The carriage wavered and eventually managed to stop with another crack of the whip. It went almost simultaneously with the clash of thunder.

Hopping out, you looked down to see your polished shoes had landed directly in the biggest puddle on the square.

“Oh, miss, you should’ve let me put my coat down for you,” the old coachman called out, rising from his seat.

Your mother’s unnerving gaze followed yours down to the puddle around your feet. “Yes, you should have. I told you to watch your step with those shoes. Henry, clean them up.”

The coachman then proceeded to lay down his coat in the puddle anyways, and even after your protests continued to polish your shoes with his previously clean white handkerchief. You thanked him when he was finished, to which he tipped his hat.

“Hurry up. We’re already late,” your mother said. You wanted to rip the whip from his hands and hit her with it, but your composure and good sense got the better of you.

The massive doorknocker hit the hardwood three times because of your father’s shaky hand, which seemed to collapse back down to his side immediately after.

To your surprise, no maid opened, but the lady of the house herself did. Missus Everglot looked down upon you with a smile that looked more like a sneer. Her hair was greying, almost to the point where it was white, a colour matching the black dress she wore. Weren’t you supposed to wear colour for a special occasion such as this? You’d been so bold to wear something green; your best dress, to be perfectly honest. Were you supposed to wear black?

“It is good to see you again,” she hummed, and your parents made noises of agreement.

“Our apologies for bringing the bad weather. But that usually means good luck!” Your father said. You all laughed, though mostly out of politeness.

She invited you in, and you were finally able to see the grandeur of the Everglots household. Or well, what was left of it. The unlit fireplaces on either side of the entrance hall made you wonder if they no longer had maids working for them or if they simply enjoyed the cold. There was only one butler you saw so far, the one who took your coats from you and then scurried off. A big staircase stood in front of you, leading two opposite directions upstairs.

“Ah! You must be the daughter we’ve been hearing so much about!” Mister Everglot suddenly appeared, his arms spread wide with the same smile as his wife spread across his pale cheeks. He also wore black, though he bore quite a bit more weight than his wife, almost to the point where the top button of his shirt looked like it wanted to bail ship.

“It’s a true pleasure meeting you, mister Everglot,” you replied quietly, holding out your hand for him to shake. He barely did, before brushing you off to gloat about things to your parents. “You know, we’ve picked out the finest gold for the rings. The blacksmith in town just did a marvellous job on them-“

The ring on your hand felt heavy. It was your grandmothers’, passed down from your mother and onto you. Now you had to bear the burden of a loveless marriage.

Your silent sigh was interrupted by a quiet clearing of someone’s throat.

You looked up to meet the eyes of a dark-haired boy, who was scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He asked you if he got your name right. You nodded politely.

“Hi, I’m- I’m Thomas. It’s very nice to meet you, miss.”

You huffed in amusement at his stuttering. “I don’t think you have to call me ‘miss’, Thomas. We’ll be married soon.”

He smiled shyly. “I would keep calling you ‘miss’ if you preferred it. Marriage wouldn’t change that for me.”

You stood there, slightly aghast. This boy was nothing like his parents. You wondered who had raised him because as you had been fortunate enough with your nanny, you couldn’t imagine his having been any different.

“Better watch it there, Thomas.” Another man strutted down the stairs behind him. He looked just about as pretentious as mister and missus Everglot. “Don’t want to scare the little lady off there.”

Sykkuno only chuckled, but you could sense that his friend didn’t have the best intentions. He introduced himself after you, “The name’s Barkis. I’m a… good family friend of the Everglots, I suppose.” He kissed your hand, which made you shiver uncomfortably. You tried your best to hide it, instead turning your eyes to meet Thomas’ again. They seemed much brighter in this gloomy place.

At least, that’s what you kept reminding yourself of as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to refrain from fainting as your mother kept pulling on the strings of your corset until you were quite certain a few ribs had been broken off in the process.

“Now,” she reminded you, “This will be good for the family. I know you’re an unconventional spitfire, - I don’t know who you got that from – but you shall learn to listen to your husband. It will save your father’s business and his honour, not to mention your dignity.”

You couldn’t breathe, you needed air. Your mother saw the look in your eyes.

“And as a final warning, young lady, if you dare to try to run, you better remind yourself that this family will never take you in again. Not when you come crawling back with not a penny to carry, not with a baby you got from another man. You will be as good as dead to us, if you wouldn’t have already died in some gutter.”

You nodded, “I understand, mother. I just need some air.”

She gave you one last glance, before nodding. She locked the door after she left.

It allowed you to burst through the doors to the Everglots balcony, where outside the rain had thankfully settled a bit to a slight drizzle. But you didn’t care if your dress got wet. You had to untie the knot at your back.

Quickly.

But you couldn’t reach.

You leaned across the railing.

If you could reach a little further-

But your hand slipped, and you felt your feet being thrown the wrong way as you plummeted down the second floor.

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#Corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse #among us #youtube fanfiction #corpse bride #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye

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