#it'd make me happy and I need to stop worrying about what other people think when I'm enjoying myself
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I've reached a point in my hyperfixation where I want to like,, become my favorite character. I do not know how to describe that in a better way or in a way that sounds less crazy, that is essentially where my brain is at.
I know I can't become said character. It's a fictional highschool dude from an anime with superpowers. I am a disabled college student with an incompatible gender identity living in the real world. But I can't stop thinking about it, and it's gotten to the point where it's a constant itch in my brain to be more like him.
Thankfully it's not a bad character to have as a role model. So far all this means is that I dyed my hair, study more often and with more interest, clean more, and exercise more. All of those things are good for me. But. If I learned anything from my Harry Potter hyperfixation in elementary/middle school the thing that comes next is quoting, clothing changes, and diet changes. All of which is significantly harder to hide/not draw attention to.
#autism#adhd#also#istg if someone tells me to just stop I will actually lose it#even if I completely ignored this it would stay in the back of my brain until the hyperfix ends on it's own#and I don't even notice when I do some of this stuff#I dyed my hair green without thinking much about why I'd been wanting to go green for months#and completely ignoring the fact that I don't even *like* green#I'm stuck between being preemptively embarrassed and just letting myself give in#I really should just give in tbh#it'd make me happy and I need to stop worrying about what other people think when I'm enjoying myself#anyway#ramble over#sorry to anyone who has to read this lmao
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You've now filled my head with nothing but Alastor and Lucifer brainrot. Any other sharing thoughts you have for them? (I cannot stop thinking about them, I quite literally thought about them sharing me during my entire 8hr retail shift yesterday)
alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 3!
pt1, pt2
this was highly requested, thank you all for the love <3 im tagging anyone who asked/was fine with it last time but now you can fill out this taglist form to ensure you're tagged for future posts!
tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix @reaper-of-light-12 @ambi-squirrelly @hazelfoureyes @meggletoomanyfandoms @afernandez21
cw: angst ig?? idk reader is upset cause they keep fighting, general relationship issues for a moment, smut, reader gets eaten out, there's some light praise and condescension i think, alastor has a master kink, alastor discovers he LOVES eating pussy, there's like a weird sexual tension between alastor and lucifer for the majority of this if you squint, the ending is VERY suggestive
other: not 100% happy with formatting on this but i wrote majority of it on a 6 hour flight so like. you win some you lose some. not proofread that well, i kind of ramble at times too but it's fine. 2.1k word count and half of it is formatted in a headcanon cuase, again, lazy 6 hour writing. i also don't use the bolding and coloring that much cause it'd be a lot of work.
left the ending a little open, will probably do a poll tomorrow on if people want me to take this that direction.
■ okay so sex aside i would think outwardly everyone knows you're in a relationship with lucifer at the very least
■ but it's kept lowkey with the other part of the relationship
■ which both are fine with btw
■ lucifer loves pda so he's happy, alastor isn't a fan so it's whatever
■ the public part works out because alastor would genuinely be worried about someone trying to use you to get to him
■ it's bad enough that it's known the king of hell has a new partner, but nobody knowing that if they fuck with you they're fucking with the king of hell AND the radio demon is a silent advantage
■ if anyone knows, it's charlie. but only to the extent of like the fact it's a hinge relationship, everything else she doesn't know and honestly doesn't need to know
■ she's just happy her dad seems happy and is getting along better with alastor
■ i think alastor is the kind to really start caring during the relationship vs. lucifer caring about you deeply before
■ so occasionally alastor will pull you aside, or if no one is watching will just press a quick kiss on your forehead.
■ meanwhile lucifer is always making it known he's in love with you
■ arm around your shoulder, holding your hand, everything
■ again, alastor doesn't really mind unless lucifer decides to be an ass abt it
■ look they still compete with each other sometimes they can't help it
■ then it becomes a game of how much the other can get away with before you either get upset or it's too telling
■ that's the other thing is like, the competing gets really fucking annoying to you
■ we saw them in hells greatest dad it wasn't a want to be a better dad it's just wanting to out do the other
■ and when it transfers to your relationship it gets agitating fast
moving on
■ relationship side alastor isn't as involved with that
■ but if either of them did something that upset you or like there was a lovers quarrel between you and either side it's a big deal to them
■ especially if you're only upset with one half of the hinge
■ cause like, sure, they could compete with each other and purposefully drive you apart
■ but tbh.. both of them lowkey like this arrangement much more than they thought they would
■ so they end up talking to each other about it and figuring out what to do
■ same if you're upset with both
■ not that you're upset often it's just that when you are it's usually cause they crossed a line in their little competition
■ and they hate making their girl feel like a prize to be won :(
■ whatever their solution is, they do it together.
■ show you they can get along, that they both care about you enough
■ you're in your room, a bit of a blow up happened earlier after they got into one of their arguments
■ it's not that you genuinely think theyre using you to get to the other but sometimes with the way they act it's easy to doubt
■ anyways, they both come in, it's late
■ i cry when im frustrated/upset and i think it's a pretty normal reaction, so let's just say you're crying a little
■ they're both immediately at your side, apologizing profusely
■ you've never cried like this before
■ it scares them. alot.
■ for once there's absolutely no competition, the only worry is making you feel better.
■ both sitting next to you on the couch, lucifer murmuring how much he loves you, and how he knows how much alastor cares for you
■ i hate the whole "alastor doesn't understand emotions" thing because he does. he has to, he knows how to read people well.
■ it's just he hasn't ever comforted someone
■ he doesn't know what to do when someone he cares about is upset
■ so he's glad lucifer is here, as alastor just sits at your side nodding along and gently rubbing your back
■ alastor only tunes back in when lucifer offers to give some space for the night, and a little murmur from you agrees but asks they both come to bed that night
■ given its usually only lucifer who actually sleeps in the same bed as you alastor is surprised
■ but lucifer is beckoning him out for some space.
"cmon, we'll be back in an hour yeah?" he chimes from the door, and with a squeeze of your shoulder alastor is out of the door, but he opts to walk along with lucifer. "we gotta do better" lucifer sighs as he walks, not looking over at alastor. he's not accusing alastor, he seems equally disappointed in both of them.
"for her?" alastor adds, and lucifer gives a hum of agreement. "this while ordeal has been quite... stressful as of late, no?" alastor adds, "to our own faults, yes" lucifer murmurs, giving a sigh. alastor nods, and the two men walk in silence for some time, ending up in the parlor, husk far since gone to bed. "want anything?" lucifer pulls alastor back to reality once again, he's standing behind the bar while alastor had been staring off, his mind running with thoughtd of god knows what.
"whiskey, my friend?" alastor suggests, and giving it a considerate thought lucifer pours two glasses. the silence falls over them again, just the sound of the clink of their glasses on the counter.
"so tell me, how do you do it when you pleasure her?" alastor breaks the silence, lucifers eyes dart up to him. thinking for a moment before replying "i don't really think tonight is the time for that—" lucifer says, but in a gentle tone.
"no no, in the morning." alastor says, staring down at his glass. "you two indulge often in the morning, correct?" alastor says, now his eyes uncomfortably on lucifer. Watching as the other man almost pales a little, swallowing thickly.
lucifer immediately falters, giving a sigh. "look it's not— i‐ that's not her fault–" lucifer immediately starts, assuming this is a confrontation. his eyebrows raise as alastor shakes his head. "oh please, if i had problem with it i would have done something" he says, a static crackle echoing through the room. "no, i want to know how you do it when you... when it's just about her. how can i do the same?" alastor asks, and this is even more surprising to lucifer than this whole fucking idea in the first place.
■ so lucifer of course explains some stuff to him, of course it's hard because unless he's done it before it's hard to articulate some of his "moves"
■ i mean lucifer can hardly resist going down on you everytime, he's definitely experienced but it's hard to transfer that knowledge at times
■ but he's impressed alastor even asked
■ so when they return to your room, they're a lot more calmer with each other than before.
■ that night changed a lot between them tbh
■ it's slightly awkward for both of them when everyone gets settled in the bed
■ you're on your back, lucifer on your right side and alastor on the left.
■ they're both holding you to the best of their abilities
■ lucifer gives alastors hand a squeeze before shuffling it to have a better grasp on your waist
■ you all peacefully sleep through the night, not shifting much but it's pretty comfortable
■ is the morning you're mostly cuddled into alastor, which is entirely lucifers doing
■ when you're all awake though alastor gets arguably nervous
■ but you being you, you slump over onto alastors chest, murmuring some affection to him
■ lucifer gives a nod, it's time.
■ he'd honestly probably move to get out of bed, assuming some privacy is wanted
■ but he feels a shadow wrap around his forearm, it's a light pressure
■ alastor shakes his head, mouthing a small "please"
after lucifer processes for a moment what exactly is about to go down, he's okay with that. he settles back in, his eyes on the two of you as alastor tilts your chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips. "my dear, would you mind if i tried something a little different with you?" alastor chimes, and you blink your eyes open again, still a bit sleepy as you give a nod.
he gently maneuvers you on the bed so you're laying on your back, his hands pawing at your sleep shorts and pulling them to your ankles. lucifer watches, honestly a little mezmerized by the whole ordeal. he feels proud in an odd sort of way. “I think our little doe deserves a treat, would you like that?” alastor murmurs as he spreads your thighs open. You take a shaky breath before murmuring some form of agreement, maybe even a little plea.
without further prodigy, alastors finally leans down his tongue swiping down your folds, hands grasping your hips to pull you to his face. your hands go to hold lucifers, but he shakes his head tutting at you. “ah ah, that’s not very polite princess” he chides softly, guiding your hands to alastors hair.
and alastor makes good use of the tips and information lucifer gave him, his tongue plunging into your sweet little hole as his nose bumps your clit. his eyes wander up, making eye contact with you as he eats you out so wonderfully. you tug at his hair and he practically growls in pleasure, opting to change tactics and focus his mouth on your clit while his fingers slide inside you, gently curling into your sweet spot.
and lucifer watches it all, absolutely mesmerized. he doesnt know what it is about watching this but theres something about knowing alastor is doing exactly as told to in this scenario that makes lucifer feel warm. he lets alastor steal the show, doing only minimal work. maybe hes softly cooing praises or gently reminding you to show your appreciation to the one making you feel this good.
as you get close, evident by the murmur that falls past your lips, alastors eyes snap to lucifers for a moment, and he takes a moment to think before understanding. usually when youre close alastor is all over you, telling you to be such a good girl and cum, just slight praises and coaxing. given the fact hes face deep in your sweetness he cant really do that, so that job is up to lucifer now.
“isn’t alastor doing such a good job duckling? you want to make sure he knows how good hes treating you, dont you?” lucifer coos, scooting in behind you on the bed so you stop trying to writhe away. “I think he’d be so disappointed if you didnt cum for him, you think you can do that, hm? you wanna cum all over your masters tongue?” lucifer says directly in your ear, and alastor feels a bit of a warmth in his stomach by being referred to as “master”
when you give a weak moan in response lucifer sighs, shaking his head. “be a good girl now, you can do it little doe” he says which is what sends you toppling over the edge, your hips rutting up into alastors mouth, whiny moans coming from you as alastor desperately licks up your sweet release. this whole thing was quite enjoyable for alstor, but hearing lucifer call you “little doe” his petname for you made him smugly satisfied.
after some aftercare which mostly just involved more cuddling, alastor feels satiated enough to shift to leave, before getting a look from lucifer. he reluctantly stays, feeling as you come to lay at his side once more. lucifer seems to take note of something, giving alastor a nod down, he glances down, seeing the obvious tent in his pants. alastor looks back up, slightly annoyed. a like “yeah, no shit dumbass” kind of look is exchanged.
alastor looks back down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sigh happily. but alastor tenses as he feels a hand on his knee, shooting a glare to lucifer as he traces his hand up a little. the two meet as and alastor takes a shaky breath as lucifer leans in just a little, breathing out the next few words with a calmness alastor admires:
“just keep cuddling her”
#lucifer smut#alastor smut#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#alastor#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#lucifer morningstar#radioapple#alastor the radio demon#alastor x lucifer#smut#hazbin alastor#hazbin lucifer
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It's me yet again. I need me some slightly tipsy Kate and John in a lighthearted sparring match while her wife and Nik stand off to the side and gossip about their respective partners. (Again, take your time. Don't burn yourself out )
Now, because I can't describe movement for shit. I'm an internal dialogue like the Green Goblin voice or a banter typa muppet this interaction will mostly be between Nik and Laswell's wife. and I'm using my interpretation of her whom I have called Sarah if only because typing out Laswell's wife so many times makes the words stop looking real
"I cannot see this going well in the long run." Sarah Laswell, very proud wife of a certain Kate Laswell. It's not often she sees Kate get tipsy in front of anyone who isn't her, she'll indulge in a drink or two but never to the extent of this. However, it'd be dumb to assume that combining Kate, John and alcohol that Nikolai, bless that man, was paying for would lead them anywhere else.
"And yet you make no move to stop it." Nikolai doesn't bother pretending that he isn't amused, it's deeply humorous to watch two of the most fierce people he knows spar each other.
"Neither do you, don't think I can't see you staring at his ass."
"You haven't stopped looking at your wife's chest since she took off her jacket."
Okay, they're both deviants.
John is in what are probably his nicest jeans, not very suitable to a lot of movement given that they must've been painted onto his arse.
Kate is wearing a dark blue tank top that Sarah bought her absentmindedly last week and for the briefest moment, she considers just dragging Kate to the nearest closet and hoping it's soundproof.
The two move in such fluid ways that it's clear they've sparred together before. Even with a few drinks in both of them, it's the most gracious violence she's ever seen.
When John narrowly avoids Kate's elbow to the face Nikolai does little more than chuckle, he clearly isn't worried about his partner and he enjoys the smug grin on the other man's face.
"Tempted to video this." Sarah mutters, watching them both in awe. Even if her main reason for watching was to shamelessly admire her wife in all her glory, she can't deny how impressive Kate is. She throws a hit with enough force that Sarah almost pities John and she takes an equal hit with such little care. God, if there was to be a walking advertisement for lesbianism it would be Kate Laswell.
"That would involve taking your eyes off of them."
"Nevermind."
Nikolai understands, he truly does. His three favourite Johns are fucked senseless John, John when he's asleep and purring against Nik's chest like a cat and John when he's fighting just for the fun of it. Watching his biceps flex, testing the tight stitching around the sleeve of his t-shirt is a damn near biblical fucking experience.
Maybe the greatest bit of their little sparring match is how happy the two look to be there, throwing hits at each other while simultaneously muttering their banter in a way that neither Nikolai nor Sarah can hear. Carefree for once in their lives, it's no secret that their jobs weigh down on the both of them and to see them in a position so laid back, it's endearing.
"Those the socks Kate bought him for his birthday last year?"
"Да."
"Thought so, I picked them out."
"I assumed so."
"What gave it away?"
"The word cock printed on the soles." Sue her, she thought it was funny and given the expression on Nikolai's face so did he.
She watches John swipe out Kate's legs from under her and feels pride settle in her chest when the other woman immediately pulls the Englishman down with her.
She spares Nikolai a knowing glance, it would appear the both of them are going to be enjoying their nights when they head home.
Kate moves so quickly that Sarah can't help but think of one of their cats back home as she pins John to the mat, their sparring might be lighthearted but she wouldn't make the mistake of thinking Kate would let herself move.
Her muscles are taut as she holds the struggling Englishman in place, her back arched and a downright gleeful smirk on her face. Strands of hair fall into her line of vision, fallen loose from her typical bun and they frame her face in a way that can only be described as angelic. If angels were the single most fuckable woman that Sarah has ever interacted with in her entire fucking life, Jesus Christ.
As much as John is losing, he does so proudly. Who better to lose to than Kate of all people. And Nikolai isn't complaining, John's t-shirt is riding up and he's offered the perfect view of the happy trail he has every intention of running his face over later.
Their little sparring match comes to an end, with both participants walking over to their respective partners before heading to grab their shoes and the jackets that had been dumped carelessly on the floor.
It's only when Nikolai catches the two sharing a look that he realises they've been played. Kate and John are both too smart to start a friendly spar for no reason. And it isn't a coincidence that both Sarah and he are desperate to drag their partners away for the night.
They were putting on a show. Sly bastards.
#captain john price#john price#cod nikolai#nikprice#kate laswell#laswells wife#laswell cod#sorry i accidentally got so gay but this blog is called laswells ashtray for a reason#i think of kate sparring and my gay brain siren goes off like wee woo wee woo#oc: sarah laswell
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Snowstorm
*Looks around* Well hello lmao what a better way to return than posting a THICK ass fic huh
8K words - Warnings for getting trapped, small spaces, and everything that comes with it + general trauma + injury - Gender-neutral reader
Enjoy! <3
-
You often put others' needs before your own.
Not that you noticed you did it. It took some pointing out from your close friends to get you to realize just how you swept your desires under the rug.
After god knows how much pushing, you agreed to go on a trip by yourself. "No work worries, no guys, no girls, just you and your alone time!" Your friend had said.
You sat in your living room with your laptop, browsing through destinations and flight tickets. Everyone seemed eager to see you go on the trip. At least, you hoped it was that. While you loved your friends, you worried that if you were not helpful somehow, they would drop you cold.
Were they happy for you or happy to see you go? You didn't know, but the trip could help that too. You wanted to be more independent, sure, and in tune with yourself.
Your eyes stop on an ad, and immediately you click it.
Skiing in the Rocky Mountains.
You smile. The cool crisp air may do you some good.
You book the ticket and the hotel for your stay, and as the week goes by, you pack your bags. You had gone on other trips throughout your life, of course, but this one felt a little different. Maybe because it'd be your first alone adventure in a long time, but whatever it was, you felt good about it.
The day before the trip, you say goodbye to your friends and head back to your house. Only 7 hours of sleep and a couple more of flight separated you from snow and, hopefully, a lot of fun.
The trip is easy enough. You get to your room at the hotel and unpack just enough to start exploring as soon as you could.
Groups of people gathered at the tourist stops choosing what they would be doing and booking activities for the day. Just as you reach the board, the ski equipment is fully booked for the day already.
You frown as a lady beside you nods. "Yup, all gone! I'm pissed as fuck too! You either bring your own or get here at the butt of the morning to rent equipment." She sighs. "I'm going on a hike. Make sure to leave your name in the equipment call, though. If somebody gives up, they should give you preference, it seems." She shrugs.
You nod, perking up and signing your name with the clerk's list, looking back at the girl again, "what hike did you choose?"
"Me? One of the easy ones, that one-," she points at the boards again. The list still had some spots left, "It's the longest of the easy ones, though. Thinking about joining?"
You nod, "Yeah, it's only my first day here. It sounds good enough for a first day," you say, picking up the pen and putting down your info on the list. The group would depart in 30 minutes, enough time to prepare for it.
"Nice! I'll see you at the meeting point later then!" She smiles and walks off. You smile at the clerk and head back to your room to pack your bag for the hike.
You pack your backpack with energy bars, the biggest water bottle you could find, the emergency first aid kit one of your friends gifted you, a hiking map you bought in the reception, a small emergency light, an emergency bivy, and an emergency blanket, just in case.
On your way down, you buy two sandwiches from a machine, along with a soup-filled thermos, stuffing them in your backpack before heading to the meeting spot.
You look around, searching for the lady you talked to earlier, wondering if she would make it in time.
She arrives 2 minutes before your departure, panting a bit but smiling at you, waving as she walks over. "Hey there, ready to freeze up there?"
"Definitely not." You two laugh as your guide speaks up, stating the hike rules and emergency tips. "And lastly, do not go anywhere alone. The hike is easy, but don't underestimate it! Safety is in numbers, always. Now, with all of that said, let's get hiking!"
The way up is slow. People chat quietly while they walk, taking pictures and generally marveling about the views, you included.
The wind is ice cold and makes your lungs feel a bit prickly when you breathe. Your cheeks are cold, a reminder that you were really there, enjoying a hike on a trip you made on your own. It makes you smile.
You're halfway up when your newfound friend approaches you again.
"So, you came by yourself?" The girl asks. You nod, "yeah, I thought I would do something different…what about you?"
"I travel alone all the time. First time here, though!" She smiles, "After I started going places alone, I just couldn't stop. It's way easier." She says. The guide announces your first stop to rest is just up ahead.
As most of the group sits down to eat and drink, you and your friend sit on a fallen log at the edge of the trail. You pull out one of your bars while she takes a few swigs of her water bottle.
You're laughing at her jokes when a crack calls your attention toward the trees. You turn around to look, staring intently at the trees. Your friend’s gaze switches from you to the trees multiple times, “Bestie? You good?”
“Did you hear anything?” You ask her, still searching. The chatter from the rest of the group dies down as you strain to hear anything from the trees again. “It’s probably a squirrel or something.” She shrugs.
“I think that was too heavy to be a squirrel.” You say, hearing it again as you get up from the log, picking up your backpack. She does the same, “Okay….maybe it’s a huge squirrel or a deer?” She says, starting to sound worried as well.
The cracking sounds get louder and more violent before a strong gust of wind hits both of you. A big thundering sound follows it. You realize what’s happening all too late.
“Avalanche! Run!”
You both scream and make for it. The snow comes crashing down through the trees as you and your friend sprint through the trail, trying to catch up with the rest of the group. You look at the snow for a fraction of a second and slip.
You fall to the ground. You can barely hear any screaming over the falling snow’s booming noise. You scream and try getting up again, putting your hands up to shield yourself from the snow.
Another sound hits your ears before a blur launches itself toward you. The sound is blood-curdling, bone-chilling, roaring as loud as the snow coming for you. You feel the impact of said thing against your body, throwing you both off the edge. You hold onto it, whatever it was. Screaming and closing your eyes as you both flew over the edge.
He had seen it coming, of course. While his brothers and sisters went for the hottest countries on whatever planet they landed in. He loved the snow. He had over two centuries of experience with it.
He saw it coming.
You are as light as he thought you would be. He holds you and your backpack against his chest as you fall off the snowy ledge. The cord of his wrist gauntlet catches against the stone. He snaps it off as you both get launched into the cave underneath the ledge.
He lands hard on his feet, setting you down unceremoniously on the ground before rushing back to the cave entrance. The snow rages violently over as it falls from the edge, washing over anything in its way. He had been using this cave for a few days now. He knew this could happen. Would happen.
Still, he needed to close the entrance.
The snow piles and pushes inside the cave. He aims his blaster toward the entrance’s ceiling and shoots, jumping over to your side as the stones crash down, stopping the snow from burying you both alive as he shields your body from the falling rocks.
It’s too much. You cry and scream while keeping your face on the floor, hands shielding your head as the booming noises of cracking trees, snow, and falling rocks make your heart pound in every which way inside your ribcage. You get dragged closer by the man who saved you, and you hug the thigh he was crouching on the ground with, sobbing into it as you wait for the nightmare to be over.
It feels like hours. It probably is hours long until the wreckage comes to a stop. You still hear the avalanche layers settling on top of the cave and its would-be entrance. The cave is pitch black. You can’t see a palm in front of your face. All you hear is your ragged breathing and the man’s -somehow- calm one. His is heavier, although slower than yours. he was big, you were sure he was from the blur you saw standing there before the rocks fell. His breathing had a dragging sound to it, a soft ‘ch ch ch’ that made your hairs stand on end. Oh God, what if he was asthmatic?
“I- I think we’re okay now-” You say. He doesn’t reply. “Sir, are you hurt? Oh God-” You panic, patting around the floor for your bag, scooting away from him until you find it. “I’ve got a light in here. God, I hope it’s not broken!” You take a deep breath and try to remember where you placed it, counting the small bags on the front before reaching the fourth one. You pull its zip and reach for the light. The thick, now wet, gloves you wear make the metal almost slip from your grasp.
“Please turn on, please turn on,” You pray as you push the button, successfully illuminating the wall in front of you. “Yes! Okay, now we can-” You turn around, looking for the man,
Finding something else entirely.
It’s bigger than any man you’ve ever known in your life. Its skin is of a blueish hue with black mottling. It has protrusions that remind you of a hedgehog’s quills up its forearms, chest, and the sides of its face. It wore a mask along with dense-looking armor that looked battle-worn. Its chest heaved the same slow and steady breathing, making the quills drag against the black netting it wore.
Your pupils dilate in dread as you perceive it whole. Your body freezes. Your breath hitches.
And you faint.
The light falls from your hand as your body hits the floor. Your backpack acts as a hard pillow as the world darkens and comes to a stop.
He watches as you turn into stone and pass out on your equipment, and only then does he move toward you. He grabs the small light you produced from your pack and turns it off with the click of a button, careful not to break it. He did not need light, not as long as he had his mask (even if he didn’t, if he was honest), and not as long as you were unconscious.
‘Might as well save its power.’ He thinks.
He takes a quick check over your form. Bruising was sure to occur. Your ankle was sprained, also expected. All in all, everything is fine. He’s glad about that.
Now, for air.
He stands up and walks to the entrance again. While it wasn’t safe to leave the cave while the layers were still loose, and with the temperatures dropping outside, your chances of survival were low, even if his weren’t. But being wholly shut in wouldn’t do either, especially with your panicked breath. Screaming requires air. Lots of it.
He stretches his palm over the cold stone, feeling around. A few well-placed holes would do well enough. Stepping back, his aim shines over the stone once more.
Adjusting the width of each blast, he lasers perfect circles scattered on the wall. The snow outside melts, and fresh, cold air drifts in through the holes before more snow covers them once more. He reaches for his back pocket, retrieving several silver rings, and places them into the holes in the stone. Adjusting the desired length of each ring before pressing a button, he watches the holograms expand on his gauntlet until they surpass the snow outside. He checks each tube, satisfied when air flows steadily through all of them.
He turns back to you and walks over.
He couldn’t say what made him save you. He had been hunting in the mountains. He did see you and your group going up. But why did he risk himself to save you? He didn’t know. He found himself clutching the tree he was perched on when the snow went down, even though he would have been safe. He leaped before you fell to your knees in the snow.
Crouching down, he takes a second to look at your face.
You groan, and he sits down, moving back to give you some space. You look around, seeing the thin light streaks coming from the wall. You look a bit to the side and squint, spotting the one figure you hoped was a dream.
A scream rips from your throat as you panic once more, almost crushing your light in the process. You back up into the nearest wall and point your light at him, turning it on again. “What are you?! What-!”
It’s a strange creature, half man and half… something else. You had no idea what.
He lifts his hands up, and you grasp your light firmly as if it were a gun. “Don’t move-! Stay there! Who are you? What do you want?!” You ask. Demand.
You hear audio shuffling before a distorted, “Easy…- Easy…” reaches your ears. You recognize the voice. Your instructor, the line spoken to the whole group while going through a particularly slippery part of the trail that morning. “What-...What are you? You’re not a man-, who are you?” You ask desperately.
He shakes his head, and you want to cry harder, though he didn’t answer your second question. “Am I dead?” You sob. He shakes his head again and slowly points to the door.
“-..-Thick S̴̨̛̛̞͉̗̜̦̘̤̤̱͉͖͒̍̑̆̑͌͆̃̕n̴̡̳̖͕̹̞͎̝̞͂̿̀̾̏̈̈́́͝ơ̸̝̣̓̔̾͊̈́̇̇̋̎̓͜͝w-.”
You sniffle, not peeling your eyes from him. “Are you going to hurt me? Please don’t-” He doesn’t reply, slowly lowering his hands again. You start to get nervous again before he points to the corner of the cave. Hesitantly, you cast the light to it, seeing the glint of the metal-like cord he had used to save you both. Your eyes widen as you try to remember the quick flashes of the occurred. You fell. The snow was coming. Something caught you, held you, and you fell over the edge. The light moves back to his form. “It was you-, so you saved me, okay-, but why?”
Again, no reply.
The tears form cold, stiff streaks on your cheeks as you try to wipe them with the back of your gloves. You look around the cave. It wasn’t that big. You doubted you could stand up fully inside it, let alone someone as big as your…new friend. He had taken care of the air supply, but you weren’t properly trained for this. You feared you wouldn’t last until the morning. Not like this.
“You-, you made the holes in the walls, right? Can’t you get us out?” You ask him. He shakes his head. “Safer-...Here.”
“How is it safer here? We’re buried to our necks in-...Snow.” He nods.
“Snow is a good insulator, right?” He nods again. “Right…So you’ll get us out in the morning?” He doesn’t reply. “I’ll take that as a hopeful yes.” You say, setting your light down in the middle of the cave, pointing at the ceiling, illuminating the space the best it could.
You open your backpack and set to planning your night here. You see your phone and gasp, trying to get it. No signal.
You sigh as you look at the rest of your pack. You had your blanket, emergency bivy, and food and water were also fine. Nothing got broken during your rescue, thankfully.
You take a look at your companion to find him also going through his own pack, though his equipment looked far different than yours. They almost seemed like…weapons.
Oh, God.
“Do you come here often?” You ask. His head snaps at you. You freeze.
He shakes his head, and you sigh in relief. “You don’t…hunt people, right?”
He keeps staring. You wish you hadn’t asked. “Innocent people? You hunt innocent people?” Perhaps it was the trauma, the ice, the pain, or the sheer chaos of the situation you found yourself in. But judging an alien creature wasn’t as impossible as you thought it’d be. “Hunters- -Like me.” His mask croaks.
Your eyebrows shoot up. “You hunt…other hunters? Human ones or, like, -really- like you? People like you?”
“-Like me.” He repeats.
“Your own species? Like a cop?”
A few seconds pass before you hear your own voice. “Like a cop.” Your eyes widen more. “So you’re a space cop, got it…Then what are you doing here on Earth? And in the -snow- of all places?”
A strange sound comes from him. A scoff.
“Vaca̶̤͔͚͌̃͝ͅtion timee̷̛͖̬͙̞̞̯͙͉͓̓́̈́̀̚e̴̛̞͎͆̀͂̉̎̂͘̕͠͝e-” A young girl’s voice followed by laughter.
You find yourself laughing nervously at the audio. A soft laugh that makes him tilt his head slightly. “Me too.” You say, “Ironically enough.”
You set out your equipment in silence before you unwrap your first sandwich. You look at your watch. 3 PM. Nice time to have a heavier snack, then you could eat the bars until the night and then eat your soup. And you’d still have your second sandwich!
Your…second sandwich.
“Hey.” You look at him again. He looks up from organizing his gear. “Do you have any food in that pack of yours? I have an extra one here.” You lift the wrapped sandwich to show him.
He seems to consider before giving you a dismissive hand gesture, going back to his fiddling.
“I have plenty here,” You say. “I don’t think…someone as big as you shouldn’t go too long without eating something.” He looks at you again. His mask moves slightly. You weren’t sure if he was really looking at your hand or not.
“It’s just a turkey sandwich, are you vegetarian?” You ask, worried, for some reason. He makes a strange sound. Clicking and huffing came from his mask. Was he laughing?
“Look, to me, you’re a carnivore -at least- but I can’t be too sure, right? You’re the first…alien I know.”
He shakes his head. “Not-, Vegetarian.”
You nod, digging around your backpack for the other sandwich before tossing it to him. The speed with which he catches it is impressive enough. You blink, and his hand moves from the ground to beside his mask, catching the sandwich.
He eyes it as you eat your own. For a second, you wonder if he’s allergic to anything in it. You’re about to ask when he moves again, sitting with his back turned to you.
You frown in confusion as he sets the sandwich down on his thigh before starting to take the mask off.
Each pop it makes has your eyes widening impossibly more. With everything that happened, you forgot the mask wasn't his -face-.
He sets the mask down, its impassive expression staring at you from the floor while he picks up the sandwich again, unwrapping it.
You wondered what he looked like without it. It felt too rude to ask. Maybe he wanted to remain anonymous from you.
Maybe the light hurt his eyes. Maybe he didn’t want to scare you.
Maybe he was just -shy-.
The clicking sound- now much louder and clear, calls your attention back to reality. You watch as he apparently throws the whole sandwich into his mouth, if he really had one, and swallows it whole.
If he chewed it, you didn’t hear it. But you do hear the biggest ‘gulp’ of your life coming from him.
You jump a little bit when he picks up the mask again, snapping the tubes back on and turning around again.
You finish eating your own food and put the trash in your bag. "I need something I can…call you- you know, other than alien? That feels rude.”
He shakes his head, and you lick your cold lips in thought. “How does Storm sound? I don’t think ‘Avalanche’ is any good.” You shrug, taking a swig from your water bottle. “I don’t think I should mention this to anyone, right?”
He nods. You purse your lips again, “Look- I know the less contact between us the better, and I definitely shouldn't be asking these questions- but if I don't talk I think I'll go insane."
Storm crosses his arms, seemingly in thought before he says a simple, firm, "Yes."
"...Are there more alien species? Do you know them? Seen any?"
"Yes. -Yes….Yes."
"Wow." You whisper to yourself. "You're the most amazing and intense thing that ever happened to me…besides the avalanche, of course."
He relaxes, shifting a bit to sit against the stone wall. You do the same, resting against your pack. "Our government must know of you- are we friends? Our people?"
He shakes his head. You sag. "Oh…that sucks" Storm tilts his head, and a series of cut audios gather your attention again. "Government- sucks."
You laugh. His shoulders shake slightly. Maybe he was laughing as well?
"This wasn't what I had in mind when I came here, but I'm glad you're here. Thank you for saving me," you say. He stares at you before nodding slowly.
You smile and look at his pack on the floor, "Hey, do you have water? I have some if you want." He shakes his head and pulls out a metal bottle from one of the pouches on his back. A canteen?
“Do you want to lay out our things? We could see what we have and how we’re going to split it until tomorrow. I know the first rule is overpacking is good but…I don’t reeeally have that much,” you let out a nervous laugh.
He takes a second and stands on his knees. He is almost as tall as you'd be standing like that. He gathers his pack and throws it closer to you while he moves over.
You stare at him for a couple of seconds before the mask slowly turns to you. “Oh-, right, sorry- you’re just- okay never mind- So, I got my light, of course-, I got some energy bars, water, a map, a bivy, a blanket, a knife, a little emergency kit, and soup! Well-, more food if you can’t translate that.” You hold up the thermos like it was a prized trophy, "what do you got?"
He starts laying his own things out.
A dagger, cuffs of some kind, knives, a -whip-, the canteen he had shown you earlier, mini orbs that suspiciously looked like smoke bombs from movies, plus other things- probably weapons too, you had no idea the use of. And last, but not least, he offers you a jar.
You put yours down and hold his. The lid is not nearly as simple as yours, it has a mechanism on top of it. You frown in confusion before he snorts and presses two buttons on top of it.
The lid fizzes, and you gasp, looking up at him. He nods, and you slowly take it off, placing it on top of your blanket. The smell hits your nose, and you look at him again. "Jerky? Oh my God-, can I?" He nods.
You carefully take a strip of meat from the jar. "What kind of meat is this? This isn't…human, right?" You gulp. He shakes his head and lifts his wrist. His gauntlet shows a hologram of a deer.
"Ohhhh, wow, you're really a hunter, aren't you?" You marvel, putting the strip back in the jar before closing it again. Storm taps the same buttons, and it seals tight again.
You place the jar on the floor along with everything else. The contrast between your equipment and his is stark. You laugh a bit. "Well, aren't we made for each other?" He snorts as you check your watch.
You look up and find his mask very close to you, also looking at your watch. "It's not as fancy as yours," you laugh, holding your wrist up for him to see.
Being this close, you feel your face heat up. You look down at his torso when he gently grabs your wrist, inspecting it closer. "You- are you not um- cold? You're not exactly ah…layered up."
He did wear some fur around his shoulders and waist, but other than that, only the netting and some armor. He does the clicking sound again- chuckling?
The hand on your wrist firms it while the other pops your glove open, pulling it up and off your hand. You jerk a bit when he pulls the naked hand to his chest. "Oh- what-...Oh."
Hot. He is hot. Literally.
You can't tell if the netting is heated or if he's just a furnace. But he's incredibly warm. Your fingers twitch as you concentrate on the feel of his skin. It wasn't like yours, that was for sure. It was almost rubbery, and hot but texturized as well. It was…well, alien. The prickly quills he had also were interesting to stare at.
What a Tarzan moment.
You take your hand back, putting your glove on again, "I'm jealous of that temperature. Even with all these layers, I'm still cold," you frown, "your planet must be scorching hot," you say.
He takes a while but nods.
He didn't exactly like sharing information, you learned. It was fair, he saved you- and he was an alien. Things were complicated. "I think you look great here though, in the snow," The glove feels cold compared to what you just experienced.
He scoffs, crossing his arms as you think about the events of today over and over again before looking at him once more. "Do you have any family?" The question hits you like a train and blurts out of your mouth before you could filter it. "I mean- if you can tell me."
He nods, and your eyebrows go up in surprise. Not that you thought he wouldn't have one. He had a belly button, so he couldn't have just…spawned from somewhere. You smile at the mental image of him just popping into existence.
You look back at your equipment, especially at the food. "Look, I know we're on 'not too much involvement' thing, but you don't have to turn away every time to eat. I won't tell anyone- though I'm sure the government must have blurry pictures of others like you in their archives somewhere already."
He's closer to you than before, having not moved away since your little touching moment. His presence is as grounding as it is exciting. It makes you alert and awake, even though you're so tired.
Storm's mask turns to you slightly, considering.
"Scary."
You frown. "Scary? Your face is scary? But your mask is so…familiar? Is it too different from it?"
He nods again.
"Oh- well, I won't be afraid of you, you saved my life, and now we're here chatting and having an icy picnic covered in snow. I'd say this makes us best friends." You smile. He huffed.
What he does instead is lift his wrist gauntlet again. Another hologram pops up.
"Ohhhhh my-" You look back up at his mask. Its cold expression almost mocks you. "Okay, you weren't lying when you said it was different- why do you guys make it like that? You know what- that's none of my business, sorry." You look back at the hologram.
While you didn't know if it was really him- the hologram was all red-, the way their faces were just…made sense. The tusks, the teeth, the mandibles. You marvel at the quills on the eyebrows, just like they were on the rest of him.
Something must have been wrong with you, but you didn't think he was ugly.
"I get the scary part. I'd freak out if I saw you in the dark, no offense." He chuckles deeply, the most you've seen him laugh so far. You smile again. "Thanks for showing me, now I won't pass out on you again if you take it off." He shuts it off. You almost made a sad noise at it.
Suddenly, all the excitement takes a toll on you. With your last burning curiosity sated, your eyes begin to get heavier. "Okay, I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off." You say. "I think I'm going to sleep a bit."
He gets up, checking the air supply tubes in the stone. You worm your way into your bivy, leaving the blanket for him if he needs it. He probably wouldn't, but the thought eased you. "Wake me up if anything changes okay?" You say. He doesn't react. You take a painkiller and lay down again.
"...and please don't leave me here alone." You say, with a little more emotion than you anticipated.
He turns his head and nods before going back to his inspection.
You close your eyes for a second.
Just a second.
You jolt awake when a hand closes around your shoulder. You blink several times, breathing in deeply as you focus on the mask before you again. "Hey- anything changed?"
Storm shakes his head, pointing at your watch instead as you sit up. You check the time. 7:15 PM. Your ice cave definitely feels colder now.
You get up, taking your soup thermos out of the bag. Its lid made for a little bowl. You prayed it was still warm.
You sigh in relief as you pour the soup on the lid. It was lukewarm, but the warmth spreading through your torso was priceless. You're on your second sip when you hear the same fizzy noise as before. Your eyes darted to your side where Storm was taking his mask off.
You gulp as the second tube is snapped off. He's facing forward as he's sitting beside you. But still, you would see it.
You tip the cup back as you swallow your third sip, hoping the thick plastic would disguise your blatant staring.
Storm's fingers slip under the metal, snapping it briefly before lifting it from his face. Your breath quickens quietly as your eyes follow the metal until it's placed on the floor. You stare at it before slowly looking back up.
Storm is looking at you.
Your eyes dilate as you take in every aspect of his face. The mandibles, the tusks, the sharp teeth peeking from behind tightly closed tusks. The blue hue from his body painted his face, fading into a cool white tone in the middle of his face. The edges of his head are shaped like a crown. A black crown that closed into the middle of his head, where the blues and whites were.
And then the eyes. His eyes.
Unlike the rest of him, Storm’s eyes were yellow. Deep, electric yellow. The primal instinct in your brain told you this was wrong. His face was wrong. Well, he wasn’t human. You were coded to think anything with different features walking on two legs was weird.
Your brain told you to run, scream or get help, to do something -against- him while the rest of you knew well that he was an ally. It was hard to go against every fiber of your being and stay still.
‘He’s still your friend.’ You think. ‘He just looks a little different.’
Storm’s expression changes, and while you can’t grasp what the tusk movements must mean yet, you surely know what a skeptical eyebrow raise looks like. “I’m not freaking out, I swear.” You manage to say. You have no idea if he still understands you without the mask.
He seems to, as his top tusks twitch and his eyebrows relax. He looks away and grips his own jerky jar. You’re suddenly reminded of your soup. You pour more soup onto the lid, gulping it down while trying your best not to openly stare at him.
It’s evident he’s also trying to ignore you while he eats. His tusks part and he inserts the chunks of jerky in. You can’t see any molars in your ogling. Maybe he was made for tearing out chunks of food and swallowing them like a crocodile?
You gulp down more of your soup until it’s down to half of it. You shake the thermos a bit, doing your best to stir the soup before leaning it toward him. “Would you like some?” To your surprise, he’s also offering you his jar. You smile, nodding, “Let’s swap.”
You trade bottles, picking out a piece of jerky while he brings the thermos closer to his mouth. He didn’t have an apparent nose, but maybe he just smelled things differently. He must have deemed it good enough for his mandible part, and he tips his head back, drinking the soup. You half expected it to spill over and make a mess, but having done this for however long he had lived, he knew what he was doing.
You, on the other side, had no idea what you’d do without your lips.
After eating your fill and re-packing, you huddle close to him. Storm messed with his wrist gauntlet as you lost yourself in your thoughts once more. For once in your life, the silence was comfortable. Sure, you couldn’t exactly communicate, but that didn’t feel like a problem.
You could communicate with your friends and family, but it still made you anxious at times. Next time you check your watch, it's about 9 PM. “I think we should sleep,” you say, getting his attention once more. “I’ve slept a bit and…fainted, but you haven’t slept yet.”
Seeing him without the mask was as otherworldly as it was interesting. Seeing his expressions as he listened to you, then changing while he thought before finally setting as he nodded.
You smile and crawl back to your bivy while he checks the air supply once more. You had no idea how you would get out of the cave tomorrow, but you trusted Storm and his high-tech equipment. And his muscles. The muscles were a big plus, too.
By the time he turns around, you’re inside your bivy, but you point to the blanket folded neatly on top of your backpack. “I know you’re well warm, but the blanket is over there if you need it.” He looks at it briefly before nodding at you. He hands you your emergency light and lays down on the opposite side of the cave, about two arm's lengths away from you.
“Good night, partner.” You say before shutting the light off, getting a grunt in return.
The cave was pitch black as you expected. You shuffle a bit in your bivy before settling down completely on your side. You wondered how people outside were doing. Did the avalanche make the news? Did your friends know? Was anyone else hurt during it? You were thankful to be alive, thankful for Storm, but you felt bad for everyone else.
Tears prickled in the corners of your vision as you try so hard to fall asleep. It’s cold, you’re trapped in a cave with an alien. Not that Storm was a negative point. You’d be dead without him. But things were far from okay right now.
You hear shuffling and wonder if Storm also has trouble sleeping. He’d been calm so far, never raising his voice or panicking. ‘Maybe he’s used to these situations.’ You think, given the scars he bears on his body. You didn’t want to think of what could hurt someone like Storm.
Your chest feels tight. It’s hard to push the anxiety down. You almost want to talk to him again, but what would you say? What -could- you say? You were the one to suggest sleeping in the first place. Your heart beats faster, and you’re awfully aware of your surroundings, even in the dark.
The walls are cold and wet. The air is a little stale. You can smell yourself as you can also smell Storm behind you. You can smell the thick rubbery scent of your gloves as they grip the bivy’s lining with all they got. Like you had gripped Storm earlier that day when he rescued you.
You swallow dryly, trying to breathe in and out to avoid negative thoughts. Things would be okay. You were alive, fairly warm, and you had a big alien as your personal bodyguard through a disaster. You hear more shuffling. The sound of the emergency blanket being unfolded hits your ears. You wait a couple of seconds, eyes darting around in the dark before you open your mouth to ask him if he was okay.
You’re in the middle of breathing your first word when you feel the blanket getting laid on top of your bivy. Storm smooths out the blanket on top of you before laying down again, closer to you this time. You’re at loss for words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.
You feel his breath against the top of your beanie, so his chest must be somewhere in front of you now. You bite your lip, feeling the knot in your chest loosen the tiniest bit. You were not alone. Things were going to be okay. You focus on his breathing pattern, so even and calm. Constant. The sound his tusks occasionally make is soothing over the deathly silence of the cave. You don’t remember closing your eyes, nor do you remember falling asleep.
The way your bladder burns wakes you up. Storm’s breathing is heavier now, asleep. It pains you to move, like getting your pet out of your lap after it finally got comfortable.
As soon as you move, his breathing stops. Then resumes in that light, calculated rhythm. Awake.
“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, worming out of your bivy, patting around for your light. You go to the far corner of the cave and do your business, covering it with loose dirt with your boot, thanking the universe Storm didn’t move an inch from where he was.
Taking your pants off in the unbelievable cold of a 3 AM shut-in ice cave was no easy business. Curse bodily functions to the end and back. You do your best to push the burning shame down and head to your backpack, sanitizing your hands.
You steal a glance to your side while you think, catching Storm looking directly at you. Your spine shivers a bit, a mix from the cold and his gaze. You take another sip of water and crawl back into your bivy, mindful of your ankle.
It makes your face heat up more to see how close he’s been to you for all these hours and how he doesn’t care enough to move away, even now that you disrupted him awake.
You lick your lips and clutch your light, looking at him again before shutting it off. Your face is still hot from all of it, but you listen intently to his breathing and clicking. You hoped he wouldn’t move away from you just yet, at least until you fell asleep.
You feel the warmth coming from his chest, moving your head forward so you could be closer to it, trying to chase away the rest of the cold from your suit again. That pee break cost you some precious degrees.
You’re still sulking internally when he finally moves. Your eyes widen in the dark as he spreads the blanket over you again. You smile and close your eyes, only to open them again as widely as before when you feel his arm drape over you.
He grunts, and suddenly you’re being dragged forward by that same arm. Your forehead hits something, and you instantly know it's his chest. You swallow hard. It’s as hot as it was earlier, rumbling with each breath.
“Warm.” He croaks. You shiver at how deep his real voice is. You nod fervently against his chest. The arm stays around you.
It takes you several minutes of internal struggle to calm down again. Your face is hotter, both from your embarrassment and his body temperature. Your ears turn back on when you hear a faint noise.
You squint, leaning in closer, and the sound gets louder.
His heartbeat.
Your body relaxes, almost melting against him.
His arm tightens the tiniest bit around you. You press your cheek against his chest, feeling his mandibles graze against the top of your beanie.
The rest of the night goes by too fast for your liking.
He wakes you up at 7 AM sharp. You almost want to cry when you realize the arm is no longer holding you, that his heartbeat is not against your ear still.
He packs his equipment, and so do you, leaving only the map out. “We were here yesterday.” You say, pointing at the map. “The hotel is here, and I think the equipment stall is here?” You felt like you were explaining your destination to a taxi driver.
You look up at him. He’s masked and ready to leave. So are you.
“How are we going to do this? Or, well, how you’re going to do this?” You ask. Storm makes a punching motion toward the stone. You almost can’t believe your very eyes. “Oh.”
Storm retracts the tubes and puts them away in one of his bags. This was it.
You stand at the side as Storm readies himself. He pushes some buttons on his gauntlet. You brace yourself as it makes a firing-up noise.
Storm steadies himself and times the punch with the gauntlet’s blast.
You close your eyes at the noise, protecting your head with your hands before you’re snatched from the ground once more.
You open them again when blinding light covers your eyelids. Everything is white as your eyes adjust. When colors flood your vision, you realize that not only you’re out of the cave but you’re in the air. Everything moves too fast.
Storm holds you up as he lands harshly in the snow piled below between trees. You shake the snow off your face as he works you both out of the thick snow bank. He squats again, and you hold tightly onto his neck before he jumps once more.
You struggle not to scream this time as well.
Storm lands firmly onto the snowy forest floor. He places you down gently as he surveys the area before relaxing once more. You look around, looking at the mountainside, following the trail of broken rocks until you see the cave's would-be entrance, quickly getting topped with more falling snow. “We were there?” You ask, out of breath. Storm nods. You turn to him. “Good legs.” You compliment. He huffs behind the mask.
You feel buzzing coming from your backpack, frowning in confusion before you remember your phone. Placing the pack on the floor, you quickly check it, watching as the multiple messages and missed calls finally load into your screen. You smile, choking on your breath before looking at Storm again.
You avoid your hurting ankle as you surge forward and wrap your arms around him again. He barely moves, not stepping back or stopping you. His hands hesitate at his sides before coming up and resting them on your shoulders, pressing you against him once before letting go.
You look up at him, seeing him at full height in daylight felt unreal. “Thank you so much. I owe you everything. You saved me. You had no obligation to, but you did. Thank you so much.” You bury your face into his chest again, feeling it rumble. You smile before he tenses up, and you both hear the helicopter sound from far away.
You let him go, looking up at the sky before looking back at him. Your heart tore into pieces. “You can go now.” The tears sting your eyes. “I’ll be fine from here.” He looks back at you.
“I’ll never forget you.” You sob, “Thank you again, for everything.”
The helicopter gets closer. You watch as he disappears in front of your very eyes. The blue skin and armor blend with the snow and trees behind him before the reflective figure jumps up one tree to another, and another, until you lose track of it in the distance.
Cold tears slide down your face as you hobble your way to a clearing, throwing your arms up when the helicopter comes into view.
The rest of the day goes by too slowly for your liking.
You’re taken back to the hotel, where a makeshift hospital has been set up. You’re asked questions, to which you reply either ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I was buried in the snow all night’. You text your friends and relatives back while your ankle is tended to. You see the hiking girl from yesterday when you’re getting cleared from IV hydration hours later.
She screams in surprise, coming to hug you. ‘How did you make it?! Oh my God, we thought you were dead! I’m so happy to see you!” She cries, and so do you. After talking for a while, she shakes her head. “I’m cutting the damn trip -short-. I’m going the fuck home, and so should you. The flights are crazy, but there’s a company giving preference to the victims and their families.” She informs you.
One hour later, she hugs you one last time before leaving.
You do as she says, cutting the trip short as well, needing to process and recover from everything that happened. You’re promised heaven on earth by the hotel and the flight companies for future trips. Your friends scoff at the very thought of it. “Why the hell would you go back there? That’s insane of them to offer you packages like that.” One of them says.
You nod along the next few weeks until things slowly blend into normality again. You don’t tell anyone about what happened that night, and people don’t bother you about it. You look at your bag in your wardrobe every time you open it, thinking back to him, wondering if he also thought about you.
Six months of this go by. Followed by another six months.
One day, you open your wardrobe and pull your bag out again, dusting it for your trip. People worry about your decision of going back there. Some worry it might reopen wounds rather than closing them for good like you told them it would. Some others just thought you were crazy.
Crazy or not, you packed your bag and left. The flight took off and landed. You found yourself at the hotel, looking at the same clerk in the eyes again while she checked you in again, welcoming you back to the hotel.
You look at the hiking lists, finding them slightly different, but still running. You check in for solo hiking. You pack your bag accordingly this time, filled with all the necessities a survivor could need before you take off.
The forest is peaceful, and the track is fresh beneath your boots. You’re enjoying soup fondly at the end of the track when you hear that noise. The rumbly, clicking noise that you heard in your dreams for the past year. Always followed by the steady sound of a strong heartbeat.
You turn around, smiling when blue hues and armor flood your vision once more. ----------- If you read it till here, you're a champ lmao
Thanks for reading <3 muah muah
more work like this here
#no cause the last few months have been SO hard dude#like depression kicked my ass so bad lmaooooo#hope yall like this one#yautja#predator#alien#the predator#yautja/human#human/yautja#headcanon#alien relationship#predators#yautja boyfriend#yautja x human#alien x human#predador#aliens vs predator#alien vs predator#alien romance#alien boyfriend#gender neutral reader too#reader#reader x predator#predator x reader
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Hi! I love your works!! Could you please write something about Blade, Dang Heng and Jing Yuan (separately) with a significant other who is like Kiana Kaslana?
Characters: Blade, Jing Yuan, and Dan Heng x Female Reader
Synopsis: s/o that's like Kiana Kaslana
Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes,
𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒
Complete opposites of each other you see the world in high regard, protecting everyone needs to be protected while he, on the other hand, is the one causing the damage, he’s basically gasoline thrown into a forest fire, and that never ends well. you’re a saint and he’s a sinner nothing can change that since good and evil are always to be equals.
He is fine with how you think since it’s not like you'll change your mind and you won’t change him, but what does that have to do with your relationship? Your reckless thoughts call yourself, invincible all you want but did you forget you are a human? A human that's such an idiot, rushing into situations with a second thought, some people...
You jump onto him wherever you finish a fight while yelling his name so loudly (which hurts his ears a little) he can hear you normally so just stop yelling so loudly, and you not grabbing onto him right, have a tighter grip, or else you’ll fall off and then whine about it later.
𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃
You show up at his office half of the time and just stay there waiting for him to finish his work, then drag him away to some new restaurant you want to try but also want to have him with you as well.
For how long he’s been alive for the longest time, you make him feel young, reminding him of how the first you met each other, back when you were kids and you were rivals fighting to chance to become better than each other (not like that still doesn’t happen at family game night: jing yuan, you, and yanqing all playing together).
You're still bratty and cheeky, that's the one thing that doesn’t change no matter how old you both get. you age like fine wine though, and look better and better getting older and older with your fashion changes but always making you look very beautiful.
𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔
You two are always so close with each other and want to stay with him all the time, he even tells you to go and not waste your time here boring yourself to death: like go have fun with everyone else but NO you going to stay here! because...it‘s boring without him.
You cheer for him when he wins a fight, “Whoa you amazing, you went like this and that” Imitating his punches and kicks, ah he can’t help but get a little embarrassed you didn’t have to imitate it! You look better when you’re the one fighting anyway so you shouldn’t be the one cheering for him. He compliments you on your fighting it improved since the last you fought, seeing your eyes light up with joy, if it makes you that happy then he’ll do it more, if he doesn’t get flustered before that.
He worries for you a lot since you’re all bark and bite, yelling and doing the riskiest things without a care in the world (not true since you always know the consequences of your action but still do it anyway) and has to get one of those backpacks with leashes yeah he’s getting that, he doesn’t want you to wind up in prison again for 50th time.
You guys
if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!
#✧*:・゚✧:・ Yurinna's Writing :・゚✧*:・゚✧#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x reader#star rail#star rail x reader#star rail x you#blade x reader#blade x you#hsr x reader#dan heng x reader#jing yuan#jing yuan x you#hsr jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#hsr x you#hsr x y/n#dan heng x you#honkai blade x you
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how do you think Tighnari would deal with a crush where he walks in on this conversation? Collei says to crush “Oh please don’t think too harshly of Tighnari. I know he sounds harsh. He actually is very nice”. And crush looks so puzzled, “what? He was being harsh with me? I think he’s sweet”?
First I'm really sorry I took forever to answer you! Sickness kicks in for the past two weeks and I literally have no strength at all! But today's the day I'm going to answer it the way I think it'd be!
I hope you'll be happy and satisfied with how I made it And thank you for the little scenario you made me have about it~
In the peaceful scenery of the forest, your best friend passionatelly talks of her studies. You know Collei for a long time now, and you're well aware that she isn't the type to have lots of days off... So when she asks if you want to hangout, how could you refuse?
You don't know as much of the Avidiya Forest as her, your knowledge on it is only about what you've heard through your friends, or when you'd get scolded by the Chief Officier himself.
Sitting in between the trees, her voice trails off, and she turns to look at you. “By the way...„ your head snaps up at her worried tone. “I know Tighnari can become somehow a tyrant when it comes to the forest but...„
You stare. Tighnari, a tyrant? It's true you aren't too close of him, but it isn't because you think badly of him. On the opposite! You find it endearing and amazing that some people are willing to take care of nature. You just don't need to see him everyday.
But when he comes by the city, he always makes a detour to come visit you. He enjoys your talks, and so do you. How could you not anyway? He brings you some sweet flowers when he stops by, and if he forgets, he apologises.
“A... tyrant?„ you question quietly, a silent chuckle escaping you. “I-.. I mean! The other day, I saw him scolding you pretty badly! I don't want you to think he enjoys doing so! He just cares both about the forest and the people!„ she corrects herself.
It's true. You came around last week and, unfortunately for you, you've done such a silly mistake! And that under the very eyes of the fennec boy. It didn't took many seconds before he helped you and took the occasion to scold your stupid behavior.
“And... That was supposed to be bad? I found it... Nice of him. I never saw him as harsh.„ you reassure her. She sighs in relief and leans closer to you. She's an idiot to think you'd see Tighnari poorly, isn't she? But you won't mention it. Instead, you let her rest her head against you and appreciate the moment.
But little do you know...
The little fennec fox man is on patrol, and overheard the conversation you just had. His cheeks flashed pink and his ears flattened on his head. Did he heard this right? Poor baby has always been anxious you'd think his duty as a Forest Watcher aren't separated from who he truly is!
He's fast to make a runaway from the crime scene, though. If you or Collei would see he eavedropped on you, he'd be dead on the spot! He reaches his tent rapidly, deciding he'd just fill some reports instead.
So when a few hours later, he hears yours and Collei's laughters ringing in his ears, he stands up to sneak to his door and watch you. Collei's about to depart and call it a day. And you'd do the same... If he would've not called for your attention.
“So... You like my scolding?„ he teases. How could he not? If he doesn't, he'll just stutter and be incapable to say a thing. But now, you're the one stuttering.
Rolling your eyes to try and ignore his words, you scoff. “As if! I just know you don't do it because you enjoy it.„ you deny, even if a part of you has to admit... You like his scolding. And he could see right through you. “Wait! How do you even know that?! Did you listened to us?!„
His eyes widen, forgetting about that fact. He clears his throat and gazes away. Now, your cheek took a pink tint, just like his. “... If you don't say I did, I won't mention to anyone you like my scolding.„
Hesitantly locking your eyes with his, a silence takes place until you take a few steps back. “I keep your secret, you keep mine... And that's a deal. Now I'll, erhh.. get going!„
You don't even let him answer you and flee. You've never felt so embarrassed before, but something in it made it so nice. You're eager for it to happen again.
Both of you have a crush on one another, and you know it. But he loves that cat and mouse play way too much, just like you, to be the one to confess first.
/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuichi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.
#/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ's writing#/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ's answers#genshin impact#genshin#genshin tighnari#genshin impact tighnari#tighnari#tighnari x reader#genshin tighnari x reader#x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader
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TV Life, 12/27/2024 Issue ft. Chinen Hidekazu & Hayama Yuki (translations below)
Publication: December 11, 2024
GavvPare! Vol.8 (Chinen Hidekazu)
-I was worried about the scene where he confronts his older brother and sister-
I confront Siita and Jiip in episodes 13 and 14. For Shouma, they're his older brother and sister, and although they abused him, they lived together in the same place, so I think he feels differently about them compared to how he's been fighting the Granutes and Agents so far. He has to take them down, but he's abit hesitant in taking action. With these complex feelings, I was worried about how to convey his feelings during the confrontation scene. However, the Director told me, "If Shouma doesn't stop them, the people of the world will lose. Stop them as if they're two violent criminals, don't think of them as his brother and sister." Even though Shouma's conflicted, he's determined to carry out his basic desire to "protect people," so I think I was able to show a different side of him than usual. We're enemies during the performance, but Hono-chan who plays Siita and Ruito-kun who plays Jiip, are similar in age to me and are good friends in our private lives. We also have a relationship where we can say what we want to say to each other, can compete with each other, and the three of us even set goals for the next year and promised to "make them happen together." Now that we've overcome the difficult scenes, I'm truly happy that Hono-chan and Ruito-kun are Siita and Jiip.
It's alittle early to say this, but looking back on this year, it's been a really crazy one. Around December of last year, I was saying to those around me, "I feel like something big is gonna happen next year." I never thought it'd be this production, but I'm really happy that I'm actually playing the lead role in Kamen Rider Gavv like this, and that I'm able to spend my days making my dream a reality. I'll never forget what I learned this year, and I hope to make even more progress in the next one!
Q: What's something that fills you with energy when you eat it?
A: Okinawan senbei. It has a taste that brings back memories of eating them during my childhood, but there are very few places in Tokyo that sell them. My mother in Okinawa often sends them to me. They're so delicious that I can't stop eating them once I start, so I try to restrain myself from eating them before filming so that I don't become bloated (laughs). I'd love it if everyone gave them a try!
Off Shot: During the last scene in episode 14, Hanto rushes to Shouma's side after his deadly battle with Jiip and Siita. Hanto helps Shouma up by lending him his shoulder, and the two of us imitate how to carry off an "injured person." On a tokusatsu set, the actors often discuss with the Directors how they'd react together during such unusual situations! That was alittle peek into the behind the scenes. _
BakuDAYS Vol.20 (Hayama Yuki)
-If I could express Ishiro's individuality-
In episode 37, I was assigned to perform two different types of action scenes. I had a scene with Taiya and a scene with Sutea, a colleague from his spy days, and we practiced the action about a week before the shoot. When the screen splits, there's a line where both Ishiro and Taiya say to each other, "I believe in him," but the real line in the script was, "I believe".* However, Haruhi consulted with me, saying, "I think "I believe in him" would be better since it sounds abit more like they have no doubts." I understood what he was saying and also revised my line. I also played the role of the fake Ishiro in episode 37, but I had trouble separating the two roles. I consulted with the Director in advance and was told that there was no need for me to force out two different characters, so I played the role while being conscious of facing everyone in Boonboomger with a cold expression and avoiding eye contact. Ishiro's strong point is analyzing, as he can anticipate what's going to happen in the coming future. So, as I play the role of Ishiro, I try to anticipate things that aren't written in the script, and ask the staff in advance about things that might happen in the future. By doing this, I hope to express Ishiro's individuality. Other things, for example, include his posture when standing, his vibes when speaking, and the pauses in his speech. I feel that it's been a very valuable experience being able to create Ishiro's character like this over the past year. (*it's the same meaning, but the first is casual while the latter is formal)
From now on, the internal circumstances regarding the Hashiriyan organization will become clear. If you pay attention to the actions of each and every character, I think you'll be surprised and amused!
Q: What's something the "Informant" wants to research?
A: I started working on my body once I started performing action in Boonboomger. I've been going to the gym for a couple months now, and I spend my free time researching the anatomy of the body, efficient ways to work out, and foods that are good for attaining the ideal shape (laughs).
BakuageSHOT: Thanks to the efforts of the production team, they made sure that I wouldn't get scars from the handcuffs, and I was able to film without any injuries. This filming session made me once again realize how much support I get from those around me!
#bakuage sentai boonboomger#boonboomger#super sentai#kamen rider gavv#kamen rider#shouma inoue#inoue shouma#shouma stomach#ishiro meita#meita ishiro#my scans#my translation#chinen hidekazu#hidekazu chinen#hayama yuki#yuki hayama#tokusatsu#toku cast#various tv japan#interview#just to be clearer#both mean I beleive/trust him#just the first is used if you're already close with each other#the other is if they weren't really
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The Talk
You and Rick tell your father that you're dating, and he decides it's time to have The Talk
Rick Tyler/gn!reader and Dad!Richard Swift x gn!reader (BUT I wanted to make the grandpa joke so there's the implication that reader has a uterus. You can easily skip that line though)
Warnings: There is discussion of sex here in the context of a father talking to two teens about being safe but no one is actually having sex
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Yeah, of course." You stopped your fist before your knuckles could rap on the door and looked over at Rick, who had his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. "You're not?"
"I just don't want to be sent to purgatory."
Smiling, you rolled your eyes. "Come on, he wouldn't do that. He likes you."
"He might not like me anymore when he finds out we're dating," Rick pointed out matter of factly.
"It won't be like that." You reached out and gave his arm a little squeeze. "We came all this way. We have to tell him eventually, so we might as well just get it over with."
Sand had invited you to come stay in New York and spend Thanksgiving week with your father, and he was happy to extend the invitation to Rick when you asked. The two of you arrived that morning and spent the day with Sand, Jennie, Todd, and Grant, as well as your father, and while it was fun, there was another reason for bringing Rick along. So, after dinner, you made your way to The Shade's quarters to deliver the news of your relationship.
Before Rick could agree with you, the door swung open to reveal your father sitting at his desk, which was as neatly organized as the rest of the room. He didn't look up from his journal as his fountain pen scratched the paper.
"Are you two going to come in, or did you plan on standing out there all evening?"
You held your hand out to Rick, and he took it without hesitation, lacing your fingers. Stepping into the room together, you went straight to the point. "Rick and I wanted to let you know that we're dating."
Shade had an amused look on his face as he finally turned his attention from his writing. "Oh my, is that what the bickering was about? I already suspected as much."
"What do you mean?!"
"You two haven't exactly been subtle today."
Rick looked at you and you at him, and you both realized what he was talking about. Casual affection was already pretty normal at that point since the two of you had been falling into it before even going on a date, so neither of you thought much of being close to one another. Everyone else in the house already caught onto it, but you thought since he hadn't spent as much of the day with you, he probably hadn't noticed. Well, you were wrong.
"So, you're not mad?" Rick had been prepared to hear how he wasn't good enough for you at best and for a trip to the Shadowlands at worst. Not this.
"Mad, dear boy? No, I'm quite happy for you both. I noticed your fondness for each other months ago. Why do you think I invited you into our home?"
Whether it was in Opal or Blue Valley, he was quite protective of his space and his peace. You didn't really consider the significance of having Rick over until then, thinking it was because of their work to resurrect Grundy. You chuckled softly and explained. "He rarely lets other people in our home. Jack's the only other person he's invited over since I started living with him. Who even knows how long it'd been before that?"
"Decades," Shade answered as he got to his feet and came to stand in front of the two of you, clapping a hand on Rick's shoulder. "You have nothing to worry about, Rick."
He was still a little on edge because it seemed to be going too well. "You're not even going to give me the 'hurt them, and I'll kill you' speech?"
Shade smiled. "I always thought I'd have to someday, but luckily, they brought home someone who doesn't need it."
Rick relaxed considerably at those words, that last bit of nerves completely disappearing. Hearing that from your father, knowing that he didn't think his kid was dating trash, really meant something. When he looked at you, you were beaming, and you brushed your thumb over his.
"See? I told you it would be okay."
As it turned out, that particular discussion was only the beginning.
A short time later, the two of you were in your room, Rick having snuck over from his own after you both got ready for bed. You were snuggled into his side, nice and warm under the blanket, until you heard a knock on the door and your father's voice saying your name.
You shot up and threw the blanket off. And Rick? Well, he just knew he needed to be anywhere else at the moment besides in your bed.
"Get in the closet!" you whisper yelled, pulling him over by his hand and giving him a peck on the lips before practically shoving him inside. "Sorry!"
Rick couldn't exactly argue with your urgency because finding you and him in bed together, as innocent as it was, probably wouldn't go over well with your father. Still, he never thought he'd be the boyfriend hiding in the closet.
Pulling the door open, you tried your best to look and sound casual. "Everything alright, Papa?"
"Oh, yes," he answered with a smirk. "I wanted to speak with you."
Seeing your chance, you stepped out and began to close the door behind you. "Okay, let's go for a walk."
"No, no. Let's talk inside."
"Sure." You had a feeling that he knew what was going on, but you still played along for the moment and flipped on the light before letting him in. Shade shut the door and sat in the chair in the corner, and you took the bed. "So, what's up?"
He looked over at the closet, and you knew your suspicion was correct. "Come out now, Rick. You need to hear this, too."
Slowly, Rick opened the door and peeked out. You were clearly nervous, which was understandable considering the situation, but Shade didn't look even a little bit as enraged as he assumed he'd be.
Rick stepped out, and Shade gestured toward the spot next to you on the edge of the bed. "Please, sit."
He took the seat, and you placed your hand over his in support. "We were just going to sleep. We weren't doing anything–" you started, but your father stopped you.
"You don't need to explain." Shade sat forward in the chair, letting out a sigh. He'd tried to prepare for this moment before he came by, but it clearly didn't do him much good. "Oh, damnation. I thought I had a few more years before I had to do this."
You were still waiting for him to get to the point because, as quick as you were, you hadn't caught on yet. On the other hand, Rick's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Once Shade produced a box of condoms from his coat, you also realized precisely what was happening. "Oh, no. Papa, we've only been dating for three weeks! We're not doing that."
"I was a young man once, too. I know how quickly things can happen." Shade reached out and placed the box on your bedside table, knowing that you'd only be more embarrassed to take it from his hand. "I'm not here to judge you on what you may or may not be doing together. I simply wanted to remind you to please be safe. If you ever decide to do more than sleep, please use one of those. After all, I'm far too young to be a grandfather."
"Oh my god!"
Shade stood from the chair as Rick still sat frozen, and you had your head in your hands. "If either of you need to talk about these things, you can always come to me."
"Yes, Papa." You zipped over to the door, holding it open for him to get out as quickly as possible. "We appreciate that. Thank you. Goodnight."
Once he exited and you shut the door behind him, everything came out at once. "I'm so sorry I didn't think he'd do that I mean not with you here it was humiliating I get it if you want to go back home that was too m—are you...laughing?"
Rick bit his lip to try and hold it in as you sat down next to him again. "Sorry. I just can't believe I got the facts of life talk from The Shade of all people."
You couldn't help laughing, too. "Yeah, I see your point. Still, I'm sorry. We've only been dating for three weeks, and it's not like I haven't thought about it, but–" Your eyes went wide, and you threw yourself into bed. "Okay, goodnight!"
Rick smiled as you yanked the blanket over your head to hide, and he gently pulled it back down. "If it makes you feel better, I've thought about it, too. More than once."
Your grip on the blanket loosened. "Really?"
"Yeah. But I'm not ready for that yet."
"Neither am I."
"Then we don't need to worry about those," he said, nodding towards the condoms, "until we're both ready. Whenever that is."
You smiled up at him. "That sounds good to me."
"Still want me to stay?" After everything, he could see you preferring he stay in his own room.
"Please."
Rick turned the light off and climbed back into bed with you, holding you in his arms like he was before your father appeared.
Even without your father's approval, you would've kept seeing Rick, but it was still nice to know you had it.
#rick tyler x reader#rick tyler imagine#stargirl x reader#stargirl imagine#dc comics imagine#dc imagine#dc x reader#my fics**#struck by lightning#minors dni
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Birmingham | Tommy Shelby x Reader (Part 14)
Previous Part
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: Tommy holds a meeting with two IRA men; that (Y/N) ends in a similar way to their very first time meeting each other. An onlooker of this meeting shares the last bit of information they have up their sleeve, which may change the course of things completely.
Warnings: language, mentions of drinking, violence (typical to series), weapons, character death
Word Count: 3725
A/N: it was a bunch of fun putting my own twist on one of my favorite scenes from s1 (I’m sure you can tell which one by the gif)…I’m really happy with how this one turned out and I can’t wait to share how the rest of the story will unfold with you! Enjoy! :)
A/N 2: Italicized words are taken directly from the show.
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!
...I'm getting worried about his actions, (Y/N). Your father's usually able to level him out, but he's even been going against him now. I worry about what will happen next... These three sentences kept repeating through (Y/N)'s mind as she made her way to the Garrison. The letter from her mother was unexpected, and now the contents of it were making her stomach turn nonstop with worry.
The Garrison soon came into view, and she took a deep breath to try and steady herself so that she could focus on the job she'd have to do. Harry greeted her with a friendly smile and immediately put her onto tasks that needed to get finished. She was happy for this, because she wanted the happenings in Sheffield to be the furthest thing from her mind.
—
The day had gone surprisingly fast. (Y/N) was thankful that she was busy. She hadn't thought about the ending of her mother's letter since she'd arrived at the tavern. Her shift had a few more hours left to it, and she was trying to think of what to do afterwards to ensure that the letter's contents still stayed out of her thoughts. Maybe she'd go to Ada's.
"(Y/N), are you in here?" Tommy's hurried words came from the hallway that led to the stockroom, breaking (Y/N) from her planning and making her turn to face the door.
"Yeah, I am," she answered as his figure became visible in the doorway. She noticed his frantic temperament, and immediately became worried by it. "What's wrong?" she was almost afraid to ask.
"Good. I need you to leave," he told her, his words coming out as quick as his first statement did.
(Y/N) furrowed her brows at him. "What do you mean? My shift's not finished for another few hours," she pointed out.
Tommy stepped inside the room then, moving closer to her so that he could talk in a lower voice. "I have two men coming to meet me later. They're interested in some guns that I have in my possession. It'd be better if you'd just leave," he told her, his eyes wide as he explained what was happening.
"I..." she was unable to say anything else before he cut her off.
"Please, (Y/N)," he looked at her with serious eyes, "please don't fight me on this."
She looked at him for a moment, studying his face as she let his pleads sink in. "O...ok. Do you want me to leave now?" she asked hesitantly, the intensity he was exuding at the moment making her shrink into herself slightly.
"Yes," his answer was quick, and he was almost out the door the second he finished speaking. He stopped and turned back to her before leaving completely, "thank you," he added, a slight bit of relief present in his words now. (Y/N) smiled and nodded at him before he exited the stockroom and made his way down the hall.
She waited a few moments to exit the room, listening until the sound of his footsteps faded out, meaning that he was far enough away. There weren't many people in the main area of the bar as she walked through it to the doors. I guess I'm going to Ada's now, she thought to herself as she began walking down the street with that destination in mind.
——
"This is a surprise," Ada remarked when she opened the door to see (Y/N) standing on the other side of it, "what are you doing here in the middle of the day?" she asked, eyeing the woman standing across from her suspiciously.
"I can't just come and visit my friend?" (Y/N) answered with a question of her own. Ada's look still remained, which made (Y/N) sigh. "Don't worry...your brother hasn't sent me here or anything," she assured the other woman, which made her quizzical look dissipate.
The slightest smile formed on Ada's face as she opened the door wider for (Y/N) to enter the apartment. "Karl's sleeping at the moment," she informed her friend, motioning to the bassinet in the corner of the room.
"How have things been?" (Y/N) asked as the two women sat down on the couch, a smile on her face as she craned her neck to take a peek at the sleeping baby.
"They've been fine," Ada answered, a slight sigh escaping her lips, "it's been tough not having Freddie around, but I'm managing."
(Y/N) nodded knowingly, a sympathetic smile on her face. She looked down at her clasped hands then, wondering if she should wait a bit or rip off the bandaid. "Tommy wasn't the one who gave Freddie away," she blurted out then. I guess we're ripping off the bandaid.
Ada's eyebrows furrowed in response before she spoke, "what do you mean?"
"I went with Polly to the Garrison that night. She blamed Tommy for getting Freddie taken away. I wanted to tell you that it wasn't him who did it," (Y/N) explained.
"Who was it then?" was Ada's next question.
"Grace," (Y/N) answered almost as soon as Ada was done speaking. She let it sink in for a moment before continuing, "she was the one who told Campbell your address. She got it when she came with me; when I extended the invite to the wedding."
"Fucking hell," Ada mumbled, looking up at the ceiling as she exhaled a sigh.
"I'm sorry, Ada," (Y/N) felt the need to apologize, "had I known her intentions, I never would have..."
"Don't apologize, (Y/N). This isn't in any way your fault," Ada put a pin in the other woman's apology before she could even finish it. "Does Tommy know this?" she asked then, her eyebrows raised.
"No," (Y/N) shook her head, "I didn't get the chance to tell him yet. I would have today, but he rushed me out of the Garrison before my shift was finished. I told Polly though...she said she'd think of a way to handle it."
"Telling Pol was the right move," Ada agreed with the choice, nodding her head to show her approval. "Tommy rushed you out of the Garrison?" she asked then, a mixture of surprise and confusion present in her voice.
"Yeah. He said he had a meeting with two men later today...that they were interested in some guns that he has," (Y/N) recounted the brief conversation, "he seemed rather frantic about it," she included, mentioning the detail that stuck out to her.
"Bloody hell, Tommy," Ada breathed, sighing as she hung her head, "he's going to get himself killed."
"What do you mean?" (Y/N) was confused by Ada's response.
"Polly's told me that those guns are stolen...and that's the reason why Campbell is here. He's trying to get them back. Pol told him to dump them in the Cut, but he obviously hasn't listened."
"You're joking," (Y/N) gasped, her eyes wide at Ada's admission.
"I'm not," Ada shook her head, her tone serious.
"He is going to get himself killed," (Y/N) agreed with the previously made statement. "What can I do to stop him?" she asked then, a mixture of anxiousness and determination present in her words. She stood from the couch before anything else was said, a sense of urgency in her movements.
"You're not going to be able to stop him, (Y/N)," Ada told her before she could take a step.
"I can at least tell him how stupid he is for arranging this meeting," (Y/N) didn't let the comment deter her, and she made her way to the door before anything else could be said.
The ladies said a quick goodbye to each other before (Y/N) exited the apartment and started off for the Garrison. She probably got some looks from passersby as she hurried her way to the tavern, but she couldn't care. She had to give Tommy a piece of her mind.
—
"Are you out of your mind, Tommy?!" she exclaimed the second she walked through the Garrison's doors. Tommy was the only person in the tavern, and he was standing behind the bar with a bottle of whiskey in front of him.
"I told you to go home, (Y/N)," he responded, keeping his voice level as he moved around the bar to stand in front of her.
"You can't let this meeting happen," she ignored his statement, staying focused on her own.
"It's happening. You need to leave," he diverted her again.
"I'm not letting you do it alone then," she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest as she stood her ground.
Tommy sighed as he heard her answer. He couldn't have this happening right now...the men were set to arrive at any moment. "(Y/N), no. I'll be fine," he tried again to get her to leave. Of course he couldn't promise that he'd be fine. These men were notorious for going to any length to ensure they got what they wanted.
"I'll stay here to see it through then," she still held her ground.
"Fuck," Tommy breathed, unhappy that she hadn't listened to him. He was fine with the potential of things going sideways for him, but her sticking around had thrown a wrench into his stoic plans. "Ok..." he started, looking at her again, "you're going to stay in the back..." he paused again, retrieving the revolver from the holster under his jacket, "take this and wait for me to come back to you. You don't come out at all, understand?" he spoke seriously to her, wanting her to realize the severity of the situation.
"Ok," she nodded her head, swallowing as she processed her directions. She took the weapon and held it to her chest, immediately feeling the heaviness of it.
"Go," he nodded to the archway then, and she nodded before wordlessly turning and going to where he'd told her to.
The sound of the main door opening was heard not long after she'd gotten into the hallway, and it was followed by Tommy greeting two men, who sounded to be Irish. (Y/N) wondered for a moment if maybe they secretly worked for Campbell. She kept the gun clutched to her chest as she strained to listen in on the conversation, her heart hammering in her ears.
Time passed by agonizingly slowly, or at least it felt like it with the pauses that came between each abrupt statement. Then, two statements came that made (Y/N)'s hair stand on end:
"Did you think we'd let you live?"
"Make your peace, Mr. Shelby."
(Y/N) didn't wait around for Tommy to say anything in response. She knew what sound would follow next. So she rushed out from the hall with the gun held steady in her hands. It took her only a moment to locate the other weapon, and she made quick work at cocking the hammer and firing, striking the target she'd been locked on with ease.
Tommy's hands flew up in the air upon hearing the shot ring out. It took him a moment to realize that it'd come from behind him, and when he did, he spun back to the other man and flipped the table out of the way so that he could lunge at him. In the chaos, the other man had pulled out a gun, and he was fully intending on using it.
(Y/N) saw this as well, and she cocked the hammer of her revolver back with the intent on firing again. She waited for Tommy to swing the man to the side so that she'd have a clear shot, but when he did, the gun misfired. "Shit," she breathed, panic starting to rush over her. She looked down at the weapon and fumbled with it for a few moments before looking back up at the scuffle that was happening a few feet away from her.
Tommy and the man were still fighting over the gun, and it seemed as though neither were letting up. She continued to fumble with her weapon, looking down at it again. She felt a sharp pain emanate from her temple the second she glanced down at her weapon, and she was knocked over from the force of whatever hit her. It took a few moments for her to focus again, but when she did, she saw that Tommy was now on top of the man and that he was repeatedly striking his head with a bucket. She flinched each time that he struck the man. It was obvious to her that he was stuck in some sort of loop.
"Tommy!" she was able to muster out, hoping that her calling his name would break him out of it. Things were getting more gruesome by the second.
Thankfully her voice worked in breaking him out of his focus and thereby stopped his actions. He dropped the bucket to the ground and began taking deep breaths as he tried to level himself out again. After a few moments, he turned to look at (Y/N), who was still sitting on the floor; propped up against the bar.
He slowly rose to his feet, his eyes not leaving (Y/N)'s. As he stood, (Y/N) did the same, using the bar to steady herself as she felt another rush of pain on the side of her head. Tommy was still breathing heavily as he made his way over to her. She was stuck in her spot, still trying to process everything that had happened.
"Why'd you come out here?" Tommy asked once he stopped in front of her, still almost breathless, "why'd you shoot?"
"They were going to kill you, Tommy. I wasn't going to let that happen," she answered, her voice shaky, "and I would have killed the second man but the gun misfired and I tried but I couldn't get it to go, and...I..." her words began to waver with each one she said, and Tommy didn't wait for her to finish her statement before he pulled her into him, hugging her tight against his body.
"It's ok now, love...I've got you," he said to her, his voice right next to her ear as he held her for as long as she needed him to. Their embrace lasted for a few moments before he pulled away and rested his one hand against the back of her neck. He searched her eyes for a moment before exhaling a shaky breath, "now you've seen me," he said to her.
This statement was vague, but she knew exactly what he meant. "You've already seen me," she answered him, calling back to the very similar situation they'd been in months ago when she'd first arrived in Small Heath. "There can't be another time like this, Tommy," she breathed then, tears stinging her eyes as she kept them locked on his.
"There won't be," he told her, an assured tone laced into his words. He couldn't quite promise that to her though...not with the nature of the families that they both belonged to. She was safe now though, and that was all that mattered. He pulled her back into his arms, holding her tight against his chest as he felt her breathing slow back down to normal.
"I...I need to tell you something, Tommy," she whispered to him, several different things swirling through her mind just as the sound of the doors opening was heard.
Tommy pulled away from her and turned to see the three coppers that were standing by the door. "You were supposed to come on the sixth chime...you were supposed to come on the sixth fucking chime!" he yelled at the men, who seemed to be completely unfazed by the scene that was laid out in front of them. He then leaned back against the bar as he looked up at the ceiling, retelling his version of what had gone down. He couldn't bear to look at what had been done...never did he think he'd go back to a place like that again in his mind.
One of the coppers then made a comment about the condition of the scene before telling Tommy that it'd be swept under the rug.
"Get the bodies out of here," Tommy spoke in a monotone voice as he stared at the far wall.
"Alright...are they making the lady uncomfortable?" the copper questioned, cracking a grin as he looked in (Y/N)'s direction. He looked at her for a moment before focusing on Tommy again, "I'll leave you two love birds to it then, eh?" he got one last comment in before turning and giving orders to the two men standing behind him.
Tommy dropped his head and sighed once the conversation finished. He kept his head hung for a few moments, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he tried to compose himself. After taking a few leveling breaths, he looked at (Y/N) again. "Let me walk you home," he said to her, and she responded with a nod before finally taking a step from the spot she was standing in so that she could fall in beside him.
—
Grace Burgess 'just so happened' to have let herself in through the side door of the Garrison earlier that afternoon. She had Arthur to thank for the access to the door...he'd given her the keys when she'd agreed to take on looking his books over. She managed to get into the back office undetected and overheard Tommy and (Y/N)'s initial conversation about the meeting that was happening that night. Of course she was going to stick around and find out what the meeting was about; she was still searching for information about the guns after all.
She somehow managed to stay under the shroud of darkness that the office provided as - surprisingly to her - (Y/N) came back into the hallway after a brief conversation with Tommy. She listened into the meeting that was being held in the main room while keeping a close eye on the actions of the other woman standing in the hallway. It would have been over for her if she'd get found out. She hid when the gunshots rang out, and stayed in place until things were quiet again.
It was then that she decided to creep her way to the end of the hallway to see what had happened. The sight she was greeted with shocked her: Tommy and (Y/N) were embracing; holding onto each other like their lives depended on it. A pang of emotion rushed through her as she saw this. Maybe this was why she had come and confronted her the other day. Either way, she knew exactly what she had to do now.
She waited until the two were cleared out before she also exited the tavern, making her way to the place she told Campbell that she'd meet him that evening.
It was no surprise that he was already sitting on a bench when she arrived at the park. "What do you have for me?" he asked, standing up as she approached.
"The location of the guns," she didn't even try to dance around it, "I believe that they're being kept in the graveyard; beneath the headstone of a man who is not dead."
"And you're sure?" Campbell raised his eyebrows.
"I am," Grace nodded definitively, swallowing harshly before continuing, "I only ask that you don't go after Tommy for this once you find them," she added to her initial statement, her words making Campbell's eyes widen.
"Why not?" he was quick to ask her.
The image of Tommy and (Y/N) embracing at the Garrison flashed in her mind before she spoke again, "he's not the one who's decided to keep the guns," she explained her reasoning, blinking rapidly as she looked away from the man in front of her. She just couldn't meet his eyes as she said this for the fear that he'd see right through her.
"If the Shelby's aren't to blame, then who is?" Campbell was quick with another question, a demanding tone laced his voice, "are you telling me we've been on the wrong trail this entire time?"
Grace looked at him momentarily as she contemplated taking this lie further. His expectant gaze practically sealed it for her; there was no way she could get out of it now. "A woman named (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is holding them. She has family in Sheffield...they've been keeping the guns here," she blurted out as many details of (Y/N)'s backstory as she could in hopes that it would add more credibility to the situation, "she's the one you need to go after," she finished by looking at him again, hoping that her straight faced expression would seal the deal.
Campbell pursed his lips as he mulled over this new information. He hadn't heard of this woman before, but his desire to close this case and find the missing guns certainly kept him open to the possibility. Grace hadn't led him astray before.
——
"The name my informant gave me was (Y/N) (Y/L/N). This person said that she lives in a rented apartment here in Small Heath and has been in town for roughly around the same time as these guns have been missing. She's got connections in Sheffield; they could be needing these guns for leverage there," Campbell rattled off this newfound news to one of his subordinates the following day.
He made sure to leave Grace as anonymous, but happily dished out the information that he had gathered about (Y/N) in hopes that it would help as they got themselves ready to take on this new target. There was a sense of delight within him now as this was going to be way easier than he expected it'd be. How hard could it be to take down a woman?
Unbeknownst to him, as he continuing with his rattling, was that Sargent Moss had been listening in to the entire conversation. The senior police officer's interest had been struck when the guns were brought up, but he really started listening when (Y/N)'s name was brought into the conversation.
He even started writing notes down, knowing that they'd prove useful to Polly Gray, who he'd be meeting up with later to share all of this information with. She came to him wanting concrete proof, and now she was going to get it.
Next Part
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#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby series#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby fanfiction#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x y/n#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders series#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic
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If you are ever down I would love your take on a Luke with a ND partner, maybe one who isn't expressive or picks up on social cues. says what ever comes to mind. Takes things a little too literally, is blunt in conversations. Like someone who struggles with their tone so people think they're bored or mean when they really have constantly racing thoughts and new ideas and are always open to new relationships.
I'm pretty sure it has never taken me this long to answer an ask before, but I wanted to make sure I'd put the same time and effort into yours as I did with every other one so far. Sadly I never seemed to get the free time to do so until now, so I REALLY want to thank you for your patience, anon, and hope you're happy with the result🩵
Please note though that for requests like these I'm only able to draw from my own experiences which possibly differ from those of others.
Accordingly nothing I said about "you" is meant to impose any kind of insinuations about behavioral patterns on those reading this, nor is it my intention to criticize or sound harsh in any way.
It goes without saying that Luke, as a friend as well as a partner, couldn't be any more wonderful to be around and I believe that especially for someone on the neurodivergent spectrum it's basically a dream come true to date him.
(Apart from that he's definitely that one friend who listens to you when you think nobody else does and waits for you when you need to stop to tie your shoe laces.)
He's empathetic and sensitive to the emotions of those surrounding him and thus would never make you feel like you don't belong, are weird for acting a certain way, or like you'd be better off pretending to be something you're not to "fit in".
And while Luke's connection to the Force certainly adds a lot to the fact that he has no trouble reading you, he would manage to just as well without it.
Still there's no denying how useful his abilities could prove themselves to be in a relationship, especially should his partner struggle with expressing themselves.
I won't go into much more detail though, because many of the things I already talked about in my other posts regarding his understanding and supportive character can be applied here as well.
(e.g. Master Luke Skywalker headcanons, Luke with a partner on their period, Luke x a reader with mental health issues, breaking down in front of Luke)
However I think it'd be really interesting to take a look at his initial reaction to getting to know a neurodivergent person with the behavioral features you described since I believe they differ depending on which Luke era we're talking about.
• ANH Luke wouldn't even bat an eye
• on Tatooine everyone has to put up a rough exterior in order to protect oneself
• it's not a place of friendly conversations and common niceties; people know they're better off minding their business and staying on their own
• you're very blunt and speak your mind?
• you seem unfazed, even bored during most encounters?
• good for you, it's not easy to navigate this corner of the galaxy and much safer to hold others at a distance
• growing up Luke came across a wild array of all kinds of beings too, one more interesting (and really scary) than the other
• he's not put off, instead even used to supposed unfriendliness
• also he doesn't know anything about where you're from and your people, maybe that's just the way they are and how you were raised?
• he probably thinks you're very cool too
• because surely you have seen a lot? Been on great adventures across the galaxy?
• he really wants to do the same
• if you come across as mean without meaning to it's not a big deal, it only makes him want to spend even more time with you
• ("if mean, then why friend-shaped??")
• most importantly ANH Luke judges a person more by their actions than their words, so there is absolutely no need to worry about how he may perceive you
• it's safe to say you're not getting rid of him as it's nearly impossible to shake him off once he decides he wants to be someone's friend
• he's more than delighted once you get to know each other better and it turns out his intuition was right!
• ESB Luke, on the other hand, may be a bit slower to come around
• not necessarily because he dislikes you but because he doesn't have the time nor the patience to put effort into really getting to know you
• people talk and so he probably heard a thing or two that has him eyeing you curiously
• most likely he won't pay you much mind as he's gone most of the time anyways
• generally speaking though, I think you'd get along pretty well, Luke is a friendly and open minded person after all and would surely grow fond of your quirks before even knowing about their source
• still there's a possibility of the two of you butting heads should it come to an actual meeting
• nothing really severe, of course, but still I can see Luke growing easily frustrated at, for example, your lack of expression, or at your questions when you don't quite get something and want to make sure you understood everything correctly
• and while he's not going to show it or tell you outright that he thinks you're a bit annoying, he's not that good at surpressing dramatic sighs or a roll of his eyes
• HOWEVER if you catch him off guard with blunt words said in a tone that could come across as mean it could definitely get a rise out of him
• after all we get to see that he has developed a certain attitude; he's snippy, quick to talk and slightly judgemental
• (mainly towards Han and Yoda but I can see him acting this way quite often because of all that he's being put through)
• I'm sure that under different circumstances Luke wouldn't react as strongly but with how things are during ESB he might hurt your feelings without meaning to
• once the dust settles and he has a quiet moment to himself he'll feel awful though and most likely seek you out to make amends
• naturally RotJ Luke is a different story altogether
• (the character development this man went trough is absolutely crazy, and I'm amazed every time I do comparisons like these)
• before even taking to you for the first time he'd regard you with a warmth and patience you seldom get to experience
• he quietly smiles to himself when he overhears you having a conversation in that special way of yours or when he senses something sparking an idea
• he appreciates your bluntness
• maybe at first you'd think he's laughing at you but don't worry, he just thinks you're cute
• he feels you in the Force, senses your excitement, your curiosity
• it draws him in
• he is able to see you as a whole, not just what you present on the outside, and so isn't deterred by what others would view as a potential attack or criticism
• (take notes ESB Luke)
• once you've grown closer he's always there to point out social clues you might have missed and/or walks you through certain situations to explain how your behavior might have looked to others when it's something you're worried about
• often he knows what you're going to say before you do and, if that's what you want, gives you a sign you agreed upon, letting you know if maybe it'd bet better for you to be silent instead
• (he absolutely explains dumb sexual jokes to you when you don't get them and I don't care how self indulgent this is, I could really use someone to do that for me, thank you very much)
#ask#luke skywalker#luke skywalker x reader#luke skywalker x you#luke skywalker x oc#luke skywalker fanfiction#gn reader#star wars#luke star wars#star wars fanfiction#star wars a new hope#star wars empire strikes back#star wars return of the jedi#fanfic#star wars headcanons#luke headcanons#headcanons
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Could you possibly do some relationship milestone headcanons for Venture?? I just need more fluff for them 😭
What I mean by that is first date, first kiss, first 'i love you', first time staying over at each other's house...etc! Sorry if this sounds weird >_<
Not weird at all don't worry 🤗 I'm happy to write it. Sorry it took a bit to get to.
I'm writing this with the thought that y'all worked together somehow in mind since that's what I went for in my alphabet posts.
Milestones 💛
Kind of a milestone, but when Sloan first knew they were in love with you. You may not have known it but that was a pivotal moment for them. It was just a random day for you; you'd found something interesting that you wanted to show them, excitedly rambling about it. Sloan was all grins, looking at you with admiration before they felt a familiar pang in their chest, like a longing. Their breath caught and they gripped at their chest as they tried to swallow the feeling. It was undeniable, as you looked at them with an expectant smile, those butterflies in their stomach could only mean one thing. Sloan would give you what had to have been the warmest smile you'd ever seen and continue your conversation, leaving you blissfully unaware of the turmoil they were going through.
The confession was- well it was something else. They had a plan, hell- they had lots of them. They just failed. Giving you rose quartz, telling you that historically they were given to people you loved. You'd just giggle and thank them, call it pretty. Dejected, they'd try again; this time they gave you an old omnic core drive, they'd tell you it's like a heart. One they were giving to you, "Guess that means my heart is yours huh?" ....And again flew right over your head. They were trying to be cute about it, but metaphors were clearly not going to work. So one night they pulled you aside for a walk, 'just to get air'.
"Do you think history repeats?" Sloan asks, giving you a grin. They swing their arms as they walk, looking at the stars. "I do. At least sometimes." They stop, kicking a rock at their feet anxiously. "I wonder if someone stood here like I am right now, and confessed to the person they admire most just how much they like them." Their face was dusted a dark red, not that you could see it well in the dark. They snort out a laugh as they peer up at you, "I sure hope so. It'd make me feel less nervous." A silence fell between you both for a short moment as you stared back at them in shocked wonder. "I like you. A lot. I mean I've never missed someone so much even though I see you all the time, and I can feel my chest about to burst anytime you smile at me! And- and it just makes me want to.." They fiddle with their hands as they ramble, "I want to go home and talk to you. I want to hold you and kiss you when I get that swell in my chest- because maybe it'll make it go away." You pull them into a kiss suddenly; it was short and sweet, and you give them an endeared smile when you pull back, "Did it work?" Sloan's face burned, and they had the biggest goofiest grin as they touched their lips where you'd kissed them. "No I think you should try again-" The two of you laughed, sharing another kiss, longer this time, more intimate. You held hands as you walked back to camp, recounting Sloan's failed attempts at telling you before in amusement.
Your first date was at a museum. You'd think Sloan would've scoured over every one of them already, but ironically enough they never gave themselves the free time to think about it. It was them who'd come up with the idea, something you could both enjoy while having plenty of time to talk. Be prepared to have them drag you around though, because Sloan goes absolutely wild the second you step in. It's a long day, that's for sure, but a fun one. You buy matching souvenirs from the gift shop to remember the day.
The first time you went over to Sloan's house was because they were on medical leave. A minor injury to their shoulder during a fight with some raiders, nothing too bad, but enough to earn them some time off. Not that they wanted it. Had it not been for you visiting, Sloan would've started going mad. Not literally of course, but close enough. You were practically a god send. They'd grab you into a hug the second you walked in, whining about how bored they'd been. You were only supposed to stay the night, but Sloan's incessant begging and stubbornness got you to stay two. ;)
It was on the second night ^ that they said "I love you" for the first time. You'd just about fallen asleep on the couch, cuddling. You were laying on Sloan's chest, lazily watching some history documentary. One of their hands was laid warmly on your back, the other playing with your hair absently. While you watched the TV, they were watching you. "I love you" they'd mumble out tiredly, hand stopping as they realized what they'd said. You propped your chin up on their chest to look at them, cheeks flushed, but a sweet smile on your lips. "What? It's true... I love you." Sloan would say again, more confident this time. You brushed some hair out of their face, leaning up to kiss them. "I love you too, goofball."
Your one year anniversary was celebrated with much care and love. A night under the stars outside of some random city. They'd cooked one of the first meals you'd eaten together as a couple. As you ate, a meteor shower rained overhead. They'd give you an almost too smug grin as they looked at your shocked face, "What you didn't think I chose this place for nothing did you?"
BONUS 💛 We haven't heard much about Sloan's family, but they talk lovingly about their grandma so they'd definitely want you to meet her. She's a sweet lady, and absolutely adored you. And Sloan got to endure the famous torture of family showing off baby pictures of them. She called you her new grandbaby and asked if she'd live long enough to be a great grandmother, to which Sloan just about short circuited. 🤭
Hope you liked it and that it was what you were wanting 💜 much love, thanks for the ask!
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The bunny from the Red light District
<---Previous
Part VI
Tokito is constantly following him around, well, all of them do when they come back from a mission to keep Nezuko and him safe.
Tanjirou finds that endearing, especially right now with Tokito, despite considering him a very distracted person at first, Tanjirou must admit he can really focus on something if he wants to.
He's been watching Tanjirou do house chores all day and listening to everything Tanjirou's been telling him.
"You're beautiful, Tanjirou," Tokito suddenly says, there's no hesitation in his voice; he blurts it out like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
The redhead can't help but blush to the tip of his ears; curiously, it's not the first time it happens, all the hashira seem to enjoy complimenting him. There's no need honestly; getting Nezuko and him out of that dangerous place was more than enough.
"Thank you, Tokito–san."
Still thinking about pleasing him, Tanjirou starts brushing his hair, Tokito sighs and leans into the touch with a satisfied grin on his face.
Tanjirou can't help but smile back at him.
***
Sometimes, they all come to pay him a visit at once; Nezuko is more alert on those days, keeping an eye on all of them as they gather around Tanjirou.
Having their undivided attention is overwhelming at first, but Tanjirou gets used to it quickly; they're honestly so friendly with him, but he's glad, he's never had so many people caring about him the way they do, at least not since his family died.
That day, Uzui's wives insist on making dinner for everyone and they all sit around the table, like they're some sort of a big family.
Tanjirou can't help it, he's so happy he starts tearing up; Nezuko notices it first and gets closer to him before pulling him into her arms.
Of course, the Pillars get worried for a moment. Shinazugawa cradles his face in his hands, although he's very careful and gentle, like he's afraid of hurting Tanjirou.
"Did someone hurt you? Tell me so I can give them a lesson... They won't hurt you again after I–"
"I'm fine," Tanjirou's assures him with a chuckle; Shinazugawa's aggressive way of showing he cares makes him smile again. "These are happy tears."
He really wants to do something for them in return, but he still doesn't know what and Nezuko didn't help him at all the other day by telling him to just put a red ribbon on his head because he was the best present for them.
She was laughing the whole time, which obviously made Tanjirou happy but at the same time time he pretended to be slightly irritated at her joke.
"I meant something they really want!"
Nezuko chuckled again before getting closer to her brother and rolling her eyes at him.
"Tanjirou, the only thing they want is you! Anything you do will make them happy!"
Tanjirou shakes his head, suddenly coming back to the present; the Pillars are giving him their undivided attention again.
He thinks about the maid outfit the butterfly girls brought for him the other day and decides that's what he's going to do; Iguro told him it'd make them happy after all and Tanjirou doesn't have any other ideas at the moment.
"Excuse me, I'll be right back," he mumbles before running towards his room.
He hesitates as soon as he puts it on though, it feels really good and is very comfortable, but he's not sure he looks good in it.
Taking a deep breath, he decides to just go back outside and show them; he can change back if they don't like it.
"What do you think?" He asks, feeling a little bit nervous. "Does it please you? Iguro-san and Suma-san said it would but..."
He stops as soon as he realizes he's being unfair to Himejima so he gets closer to him and sits on his lap. Tanjirou explains to him what he's wearing and takes one of his hands so he can feel the fabric of his uniform.
Himejima makes a choking sound before turning completely red, then to his shock, he realizes that the others are probably as red as he is.
Are they angry?
Sometimes he thinks Nezuko has some sort of power and can hear other people's thoughts, even though she assures him it's just because his face is very easy to read.
"No, they're not angry," she assures him, trying not to burst into laughter.
"Not at all!" Kanroji agrees with his sister before the others start saying more or less the same while Himejima nuzzles against his cheek.
"You have made us very happy, Tanjirou," Kocho mumbles, looking like she's fighting to hold back her own blush. "But you really don't have to do anything you don't want just to please us..."
"It's alright," Tanjirou grins, feeling more relaxed now. "I think I like it... It feels really comfortable."
"It's my turn," Uzui says suddenly, like he can't quite help himself. He looks desperate, at least until he takes Tanjirou in his arms. "Why are you so... Oh, your stockings look like they're a little bit... tight."
For some reason, he looks flustered, which brings back memories of the night they met, when Tanjirou was wearing his bunny suit.
"They are tight, but not uncomfortable," he assures him. "I think my thighs are just too wide..."
"Your thighs are perfect," Tomioka blurts out before he starts bleeding from his nose. Tanjirou gasps, realizing he's not the only one.
"Is everyone alright?" He gets closer to Tomioka, but Rengoku kneels in front of him and puts his arms around Tanjirou's waist, smiling happily.
"We've never been better, my boy!" Rengoku says, but Tanjirou thinks he's lying for a second, because Iguro looks like he's in some sort of trance and Shinazugawa has walked into Tokito, prompting him to fall to the ground.
It looks like chaos for a moment, although Nezuko seems like she's having so much fun.
"Maybe I should change back–"
"No!" They all say at the same time, startling him.
Iguro clears his throat.
"No... I mean, if you want to, you can, but if you like the outfit you can keep it," he manages to say.
"Oh... Okay."
He does like it actually, in fact he'd like to wear skirts more often, but he decides not to mention it at the moment...
Tanjirou spends the rest of the evening sitting on different laps; the Pillars insist, actually they beg him to do that.
"Just keep your hands where I can see them," Nezuko warns them every now and then to which they nod in response.
"You know they won't hurt me, Nezuko..."
"I know, I'm not worried about that," she smiles at Tanjirou, quite amused. "But they have to behave if they want to make a good impression."
"Of course, Nezuko!" Rengoku nods enthusiastically and everyone else seems to agree with him, even Shinazugawa. "We'll be good. We're very serious about this!"
"You better be," she warns.
"What are you talking about?" Tanjirou asks, feeling lost.
"Courtship, darling," Kocho says with a genuine smile on her face.
"Oh... Okay," he nods. So they'll start courting soon? Who are they going to court? Are they going to court different people at the same time? Do they want Tanjirou's help? Sadly, he doesn't know anything about that... But perhaps it's better to keep his questions to himself at the moment.
***
Next--->
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#demon slayer#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#tanjiro kamado#sanemi shinazugawa#shinobu kochou#mitsuri kanroji#obanai iguro#tengen uzui#kyojuro rengoku#giyu tomioka#muichiro tokito#gyomei himejima#giyutan#kyotan
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Hey uh
I'm leaving my mask at the door for a minute
If you enjoy the image of myself I put forward, the happy cheery autistic trans girl who doesn't dwell on her issues
Please just ignore this post
If you are uncomfortable with mentions of self harm, talking about non prescription drug addiction, suicide rates of trans kids
Please just go
Look
I say my biggest fear is that I'll be forgotten
It's easier than saying that I'm scared to death of myself
I'm worried I'll give up on life and stop eating... considering I can't gain or maintain weight I'd have a week before I was dead at the most
I'm afraid that I'll give up trying to look like the person I want to be rather than being stuck, trapped in a body that isn't mine but I'm wired up to like some sick torture method
I don't want to fall into drug use or self harm hoping that it'd pull me out of this pit of self hatred and hopelessness
I don't wanna be another tally mark on the trans suicide charts
I don't wanna die
I feel like I'm suffocating
That I can't move my legs... only the ones attached to me
I don't even know if I matter at this point
I just
I wanna be me
Not some false image that I was born with
Nobody understands how it is for me
My dad almost killed me with th fact he understood so little he put me into survival mode where I cared about nothing but staying alive because of how much damage his insistence that my body was in fact his son and not the cage that trapped his daughter
He used to have twins now he just has one kid with her twin sister... my sister
Now I live with my mom who doesn't understand, how could she? She's never wanted to tear her skin off because it wasn't hers... she understands how much I hurt though
She's able to see through my mask that I'm really suffering inside
Without her yall wouldn't have ever known I existed
You would've heard a news article of a trans kid who killed herself by diving off the balcony at her school although the media would misgender me.
I've almost done it
Sitting on the edge of a lethal drop fighting with myself to not do it
Not sure if I was lying when i told myself things would get better
I'm not sure if they are
Everything just keeps getting worse and worse
I can't even cry anymore
I don't care about so many things that I used to
I used to love
Then I was heartbroken
I used to care for my friends
Until I moved away
I used to enjoy helping others
Now I'm so tired I can't
Just
Fuck
It's kinda funny
How part of me thinks it's all my fault
How I'm not sure if it's something I did
But then I have to think
What could I possibly have done that'd make this torment justified?
How can any higher power exist when I've prayed to every God and Goddess I've ever learned of and not once has a goddam thing happened
How would a higher power let the world get this fucked up
Fuckin hell
My trans siblings are getting murdered for being themselves
Innocent people who live in unfortunate places are being killed because of stupid ass reasons
Fucking hell in America most people aren't free enough to take a month off work without becoming homeless
Decades of prejudice make people think women are weak and need defending but don't pay them well because... fuckin I don't know why!
It's pathetic that men get away with rape while women get away with false rape accusations usually destroying every relationship the man ever cared about
People look at others and treat them differently based on the color of their skin
YA KNOW HOW FUCKIN STUPID THAT IS?!
ITS DUMBER THAN PICKING ON SOMEONE WHO WORE A BLUE SHIRT PURELY BECAUSE OF THE SHIRT
What for?!
WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS FOR?!
The privilege to go through 12 to 20 years of school to earn the right to have to work a job I'll probably hate until I'm like 60?!
Right now I'm pretty sure my life is gonna end before I reach 30!
What's the fuckin point?!
America for fucks sake
The land of the free
Yeah free to work or die because the 0.01% run the fucking nation like their playground
People wonder why I've responded to hostility with hostility in the last 3 years
Simple
I've bottled my emotions for so long the bottles are all full
Yelling and ranting always make me feel a little better
If anyone comments on this negatively I hope you die in a vat of boiling vinegar and drown in the yolks of rotten eggs
That goes for all the phobic people too
If you made it through this whole essay sized emotional breakdown and don't think I'm a complaining winey bitch
I can only say I wish the world was made of more people like you
Alright
Time for sleep
#tw: depression#tw depressing stuff#tw self destructive behavior#trans#trans woman#me#depressing shit#trans struggles
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*cough cough*
Chef Hatchet x Scary reader? Please? ;-; a reader who only Chef finds cute but the others are scared to death?
😳 I never had a Chef request before! Thank you so much for sending this in, I hope you enjoy and have a marvellous day!!
CHEF HATCHET X SCARY! READER ONE SHOT
"So glad we could finally do this." Chef grinned, happy he could use the weekend to take you out to dinner.
You twirled your glass of champagne in your decorated hand, a smile carved onto your lips,“Me too. Why do our colleagues find me scary?"
Chef sat in a clean blazer,"They just don't see you like how I see you, (Y/N)."
Intriguing,"Other men have begged me for their lives, acting as though it was a hostage situation than a date." you calmly claimed, looking wide eyed at Chef,"Do you think your big muscles could help you if you were taken against your will?"
He shrugs,"Depends on how many people. If there's one, five, ten, sure, but twenty, it'd be foolish to try something."
"How about nineteen?"
"Nineteen, I could take any day. The army didn't train me to stop at ten."
"Even if it were to happen now, as we are enjoying the heat of each other's company in this refined establishment?" you gestured around the classy environment.
"I'd think about you first." he offered a wink.
"Oh Chef, you don't need to worry about protecting me." you reciprocated the wink,"In fact, such people would need the protection more.”
He snorts, the memories of how terrified the contestants and staff were of you, gave him a sense of pride that you had taken a liking to him. He wasn’t even mad that you had used fear more effectively than he did,“I don’t underestimate your ability to protect yourself. You have your reputation after all.”
“And what is my reputation, Norbert?” you lopsided your head, asking sweetly.
He smirked,“Sexy, different.”
“My, you sure know how to please a woman.”
"A woman that never told me what she does besides Total Drama." his eyes were begging you to get into it.
You chuckled,"The first assumption people make is that I’m a witch, which isn’t true, although I am fascinated by the craft." you picked up your knife and drew the air with it like a wand,"I wonder, since you are a Chef, if we were back hundreds of years ago, and they tied me at the stake and set me on fire, would you use the fire to heat your pan?"
His voice went slightly high when he exclaimed his “No!”. By the silent stare you casted, however, it was clear it wasn’t what you wanted to hear and he had internally debated if he should change his answer before you had eventually lowered your knife.
"What a pity. If you really did love me, you would have said yes."
Absurd. He loved it,"The hell am I supposed to be yes-ing to?"
You leaned slightly forward, swishing the knife again,"You're a smart man, Chefy, you can figure it out."
He scoffed,"I can hardly imagine why I'd want to put a pan on top of your pretty head while you're cooking alive, girl."
"Who said the pan will be on top of my head?" you leaned back.
Speaking of cooking, the server came along.
"I'll take the steak. Burn it to the crisp." you hummed with certainty.
"Crisp? Really, girl?" Chef made his inquiry, not due to the sole nature of your order, but how different it was to your usual raw.
"This conversation inspired me. I want to taste what could have been my sweet body. As all livestock. Slaughtered.” your fingers began to crawl around the head of your fork,“Don't you understand that?"
He paused. You were just so cute,“Sure do.”
The server did not question anything else and left with a pale expression. What was there to be afraid of? That server didn’t know the troubles of flesh if all it took to get him unnerved was that.
“What a nervous man.” you commented more sympathetically, averting your gaze back to your date,“Where were we?"
His head twitched at the sound of your voice,"I lost track."
"That's okay. We can start anew." your tone was mischievous, almost indicating that you had remembered, but didn’t mind to change.
From the corner of his eye, some customers were requesting to be moved to tables further away, and when they got denied, they either ate in paranoia or left altogether.
What strange people.
“Did I tell you how magnificent you look tonight?” he asked, complimenting you.
“No.” you responded straightforwardly, not breaking your glance for your scarlet dress. You set your fork down to hold your attentive head in both your palms,“But no need. Let’s move on to...you. I want to hear every secret.”
Yet how adorable it was when you had finished his every sentence, almost like you had already knew.
#tdi#request#total drama#tdi x reader#chef hatchet#total drama chef#total drama chef hatchet#total drama chef hatchet x reader#chef hatchet x reader#td chef#td chef hatchet#td chef hatchet x reader#tdi chef#tdi chef hatchet#tdi chef hatchet x reader
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13 for the one word prompts!
Thank you for the ask!! The list is here if anyone else wants to see it =)
One word prompts- Dancing
Matty stops, shaking his head and laughing, and says, "Dancing involves not tripping over each other, ya'know."
George frowns, his hands on Matty's waist feeling far less sure. "Maybe you should lead," he suggests.
Matty shakes his head. He could lead, he supposes, but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to worry about being in control of everything for once. He wants to follow. "You'll get it," he promises. "There's a learning curve."
"You should lead," George repeats. "You know what you're doing."
It suddenly dawns on Matty how nervous George really is. He doesn't see George nervous very often--he's usually very level-headed and even, a realist. "Are you nervous?" Matty asks, taking his hand from around George's neck and cupping his jaw, thumb running over his cheekbone.
George isn't the problem, Matty knows. Sure, Matty is the one with any kind of dance training between them, but slow dancing really isn't all that hard. The problem is more that they haven't come to an agreement on what they'll actually end up dancing to and the fact that they're both a little bit tipsy and trying to dance in the kitchen in their socks.
"A little bit," George admits. "I don't wanna get it wrong. Not something that matters to you."
"Aw, love, you're not gonna get it wrong. I promise you that," Matty murmurs. "'s just dancing."
"I know," George agrees, "but it matters to you."
Matty stands on his tiptoes and leans in for a short kiss, then says, "You matter to me. I could take or leave dancing. It's just what people do. We don't have to do what everyone does. I mean, tradition isn't really that important and nothing about us is traditional."
"It is tradition," George echoes.
"That doesn't mean we have to. You know how I feel about tradition. We could stand there and make out and I'd be happy. We could sneak out for a smoke and I'd be happy," Matty counters. "It's our wedding. Do you even want to do a first dance?"
"Do you?" George counters.
"Only if you do. Like I said, we could leave after dinner and I'd be happy. We could leave after the ceremony and I'd be happy. I mean, you should let me know if you wanna leave after the ceremony sooner rather than later 'cause I'd change the wine pairings and you'd have to buy me dinner eventually, but I'm happy as long as I'm with you."
"You'd doom our friends and family to subpar wine?" George teases, hands a little more firm on Matty's hips now.
Matty nods, shameless. "I'm not paying for it if I don't get to drink it."
"God, I love you," George murmurs. "I can't wait to marry you."
"I love you, too," Matty responds. "We're gonna be a horrible old married couple."
"I can't wait," George repeats. He resettles his hands on Matty's hips and says, "Let's try again."
Matty drapes his arms back over George's shoulders, and agrees, "'k."
He lets George take the lead again, murmuring quiet instructions and suggests as the need crops up. "Am I gonna distract you if I tell you how much I like this?" he asks quietly.
"Maybe," George answers. "Tell me anyway?"
"Ok. I really like this," Matty says. "It feels," he pauses, "intimate, like there's no one but us. I like just being close. I like loving you. Loving you is the best thing I've ever done. If I did nothing else with my life, I think it'd still be a life well lived."
George stills, quiet, then tugs Matty close, into a proper hug.
"Was that the wrong thing to say?" Matty asks after a few moments of quiet
"No," George murmurs. "I love you. I love our life and I'm really glad you said yes."
Matty smiles and moves so that he can kiss George. "Did you think I'd say no?" he asks.
"No," George admits. "I'm just glad you said yes."
"Me too," Matty agrees. "Me too."
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To See And To Hear | Chapter 4
First | Previous
NOT FOR EVERYONE
Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of murder and death. The concept of someone who was killed living their after-life on Earth. Dark thoughts/themes.
Run Down: Fazbear Corporation has a dark past full of death and murder. On one hand, it'd be safe to assume at least one unrestful spirit would haunt their last resting place. On the other, if they knew the plans William Afton had in store, any reason to stay should immediately be replaced with moving on as soon as possible.
It's still Friday!
_____________
Jeremy can’t help but pace in the attempt to calm his nerves as he waits.
Mike, on the other hand, isn’t nervous in the slightest. Had even put his feet up on the desk and leaned back in his chair, hat over his eyes in order to take a nap. Though this time he’s keeping all four wheels flat on the ground.
And to be honest, seeing Mike so relaxed he’s able to sleep makes Jeremy feel a lot better about the fact he’s going to be meeting another ghost. Because if someone who’s still alive isn’t concerned despite Scott having warned them it most likely won’t be a calm meeting, then there really shouldn’t be anything to worry about, right?
It would be right, if Jeremy didn’t know that Mike is the most fearless person he has ever met. Doesn’t flinch when animatronics who have discussed how they’ll kill him are standing only a few feet away. Antagonizes them at every opportunity by cussing them out proudly, though they’re starting to realize it’s done out of fondness. But his point still stands!
So Jeremy continues to pace. Thinking about everything that can go wrong. Feels himself begin to tremble as he remembers what Scott said about people who die violently, that they tend to hold resentment toward the living even if they don’t deserve it. And if Scott had almost hurt Mike even though he cares about the night guard and that’s the reason why it almost happened then-!
“Jerber,” Mike grumbles, earning a fearful squeak. “I can’t fucking sleep with your pacing, asshole.”
Jeremy immediately stops before wringing his hands in guilt. “S-S-Sorry.”
Mike moves his hat back to its proper place on his head, raising an eyebrow as he looks the ghost up and down. “What’s fucking with you?”
“I’m w-w-worried,” Jeremy murmurs. “I-Isn’t it bad Scott w-warned us?”
Mike looks up at the ceiling for a moment before shrugging. “Phone Guy and Purple Guy haven’t fucked with a lot of ghosts. But if the bastard is happy to follow Douche Bag here, sounds friendly to me. They just want to be goddamn careful. And I don’t listen to shit.”
At least it’s admitted genuine concerns aren’t always heeded by the man. But that does make Jeremy feel better. He’s never met David, but he’s heard plenty of stories. So, maybe it will be okay. Scott wouldn’t take a chance when it comes to Mike’s life. He hasn’t met Vincent yet, but he’s pretty sure the same thing can be said.
The ghost imitates taking a deep breath. Glances down the hallway in the hopes Scott appears soon. “When do y-y-you think-?”
Jeremy jumps at the sound of keys unlocking the door. Becomes frozen when he realizes that’s not the sound he wants to hear. Because keys means a living person is entering the restaurant. Meaning the unknown ghost is here before Scott is.
He’s going to be meeting them alone.
Sugar honey iced tea.
“Why are the lights on?” a voice growls, sounding almost menacing as it echos down the hallway. And then a towering figure appears at the very end, looking intimidating at such a far distance. With a fierce glare that has Jeremy thankful that, for once, he’s invisible. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Hey, Douche Bag,” why did Mike decide on that nickname!
“Fucked Up Night Guard,” and never mind, now he understands...
Jeremy holds his breath despite knowing he doesn’t need to breathe in the first place. But it’s truly terrifying watching the suited man make his way closer. Looking a lot like his disappointed father coming to lecture his disgrace of a son. He expects yelling. Possibly the demand Mike explains himself before interrupting and sending him out of the restaurant.
Instead David shoves Mike’s legs, forcing him to sit in the chair properly. “I know you weren’t raised properly, but even Eggs knows not to put your feet up on the desk.”
“I wasn’t goddamn hurting it.”
“It’s the principle of the matter, show some respect. And why are you here so early, it’s only half past 8.”
“Wanted to fuck some shit up.”
Jeremy waits, tense because he knows there’s going to be shouting. But the longer the two talk to each other without any raised voices, the more he relaxes. Up until the moment he spots a much smaller, much friendlier looking figure standing just outside of the hallway. Who’s distinctly transparent.
Any fear he might’ve felt considering this was the ghost Scott had been concerned about, and Jeremy feels nothing but pity. This ghost, he doesn’t look older than sixteen. He died a violent death with no one around to help him?
The ghost suddenly looks over at him with wide eyes. Takes a moment to glance over at David before giving a small hopeful wave toward Jeremy. One that’s immediately returned.
“Not that I love our conversations,” makes both of them jump at the hostility dripping from David’s voice. “But I came here at this time to avoid you.”
If Jeremy had to talk to the tall man, he would’ve agreed and left, no matter how much time would be wasted going home just to come back later to work his shift. But Mike only shrugs, unbothered by the fact his presence isn’t wanted. “Sorry, Douche Bag, guess you’re shit out of luck. But I can fuck off to another room, or I can help with shit you need. Your fucking choice.”
There’s a long moment of silence before a finger is pointed down the hallway. “Show me where the keys to the basement is. Your dumbass of a manager keeps avoiding my calls like a coward.”
“Not my shitty ass manager,” Mike says as he obediently stands up to lead David to the keys.
“They are whenever you’re working a shift in this dump.”
Jeremy almost follows after his friend out of habit, only holding himself back this time with a reminder he technically has a guest. And considering Scott isn’t here then the responsibility relies solely on him. Someone who has never been good at human interaction. Or, ghost interaction in this case.
Meaning he watches Mike leave with a look of panic.
“I’m Fritz,” earns a squeak of surprise. But instead of being watched with bewilderment or even annoyance, Jeremy’s only sees a smile. “Were you the friend Vincent told me about?”
“N-N-No,” Jeremy responds. Waves his hands at the way it sounded like Fritz somehow came to the wrong place. As if he was supposed to meet different ghosts. “I-I mean I’m not Vincent’s f-f-friend, but I know h-his friend! He’s late, though, s-so f-for now it’s...just me.”
That was the worst way to greet someone newly dead! He’s terrible at this, he’s going to make Fritz regret ever wanting to meet another ghost! He’ll think no one cares and this was all a big mistake agreeing to meet them and he’ll never want to talk to any of them including Mike or Vincent and it’ll all be Jeremy’s fault!
“Late?” Fritz asks, his smile growing wider instead of it disappearing. “Does he work too?”
“I don’t th-th-think so. He told me h-he follows Vincent everywhere, b-b-but h-he's never given details.” Jeremy wrings his hands. Freezes as the question fully processes. “T-T-Too? Do you work?”
Fritz blushes. “I, uh, answer the phones after hours for Mr. Harrison.”
“Like r-recordings?” he asks, a little confused. It’s a much more professional title for what him and Scott do.
“No, actual calls with customers,” the teenager clarifies with a nervous chuckle. “You’d be surprise how many parents are willing to call at midnight just to be able to book for a party. Or people who just don’t realize how late it is and wanting more information on how the animatronics work.”
Jeremy stares for a moment. Slowly thinks over what all of it meant until it registers that a fellow ghost not only has an actual job, but he talks to those who are living.
“They h-h-hear you?” Jeremy breathes. Amazed by the thought someone other than Mike would be able to actually hear him with just a phone.
“Sometimes I wish they didn’t,” Fritz grins. “There’s been a few times I sighed a little too loudly while talking to Mr. Harrison. I’m just glad I don’t really need my paycheck because at this point he’s lowered it to a dollar an hour.”
Jeremy’s mouth almost drops open at someone docking a paycheck for sighing. “Your boss s-s-sounds...”
“Controlling? Egotistical? Definitely will never figure out on his own a ghost is working for him?” the younger guesses. And even though it’s been numerous times this is someone who had a violent death, there’s no trace of malice, of anger. There’s no hint of frustration even though Jeremy certainly would be working for someone like that with seemingly no way out. Even if he couldn’t use the money, it’d still upset him!
But Fritz seems to have more control over his emotions than Scott does. Or maybe that’s just his personality. Whatever it is, Jeremy likes him. Feels guilty for ever thinking Fritz is someone to be scared of, or worried that he’d lash out at someone.
“...i-interesting.”
Fritz laughs at the very kind way of describing it. “So do you work?”
“K-K-Kind of? I help M-Mike keep the T-T-Toys out of the office,” Jeremy murmurs. Compared to what Fritz does, how can he claim he works? He can’t even get in trouble, and if he doesn’t wind the toy box in time then Mike would get killed. But if he doesn’t do it, no one will, because apparently Mari doesn’t deserve to have his music played. Even if it’s the only way to ensure Mike isn’t killed.
There may come a day when Jeremy gets as upset as Scott did due to Mike’s disregard for death...
Fritz gives him a confused look. “Why do you need to keep them out? Do they like to mess with the paperwork?"
Jeremy suddenly feels like he is completely unequipped to explain that the animatronics, most likely including Fritz’s, aren’t as friendly as believed. It definitely took him a while to come to terms with the Toys not only being murderer’s, but enjoy it. It’s not something you just say, though.
“D-D-Did you work at Freddy’s b-before?”
“For about a month,” Fritz says, his voice getting quite, eyes watching the ground as if it’ll disappear. And maybe it even might because it seems like the younger is fading. “I was a waiter before my...accident.”
Oh. So that means...
Jeremy reaches his hand out before he can think about it being a bad idea. He doesn’t touch Fritz, not wanting to make the younger uncomfortable, but his hand is almost immediately grabbed. Gently squeezed in what he could safely assume is meant to be a thank you. There’s no sudden hug like he did to Scott, but at least Fritz doesn’t get any dimmer.
“I-I-I never worked for Freddy’s b-before I died,” Jeremy offers, hoping it sounds supportive. Because he knows what it feels like, haunting an unfamiliar place he never thought would be his grave. One that was meant to be a happy memory instead of becoming a fatal visit. “It’s k-kind of cool learning s-secrets I-I-I never would’ve otherwise.”
Fritz laughs loudly, most likely not expecting such a morbid sentiment. Which Jeremy hadn’t meant it to be! “That’s true.”
“Hopefully anything you do learn doesn’t scare you away,” has both of them jumping, having missed Scott’s entrance. Despite the scare Jeremy’s just glad he’s finally here, more than happy to let the sandy haired man take over and make sure Fritz wants to come back after this. “Sorry for being late. I’m Scott, the friend Vincent told you about.”
Fritz lets go of Jeremy’s hand in order to shake Scott’s. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Scott smiles. “I hope Jeremy has been good to you.”
Jeremy sputters, admittedly offended by the thought Scott was concerned he wouldn’t be good to Fritz. “M-M-Me? You should’ve been w-worried about Mike!”
“I’m worried about him for other reasons,” the older ghost admits.
“Jeremy’s been amazing,” Fritz reassures. Something that admittedly makes Jeremy feel a little better with the confirmation. “I’m, I was surprised another ghost would want to meet me. Usually they’re a bit possessive.”
Before he can ask what that’s supposed to mean, Scott’s nodding his head like he understands. “Vincent’s been my best friend even before I died, but I’m more just on the cautious side because I know how dangerous we can get. He hasn’t met Jeremy yet, but that’s more so on preference rather than me not wanting him to.”
Preference? Does that mean Vincent doesn’t want to meet him? What did Jeremy do someone doesn’t want to meet him!
“Bad memories?” Fritz guesses, his expression kind and voice soft.
“For different reasons.” Oh. Oh. He never thought, he never asked how or where Scott- oh no. “But you never have to worry about Jeremy and I.”
The mentioned ghost jolts when he realizes he hadn’t really been part of the conversation, quick to nod in agreement. “N-N-Never!”
Fritz beams at the confirmation they want to be friends. Jeremy’s almost scared to ask what kind of ghosts the teenagers met before, but they can talk about it later. And possibly loop back around to what was meant by being possessive. But later!
“How have you been, Fritz?”
The teenager suddenly goes pale, looking almost afraid. “I-I’ve been okay.”
This isn’t how Jeremy expected it to go. He had been emotional finally meeting someone who understood his situation, but it was definitely mostly relief rather than fear.
“You have a lot of energy, don’t you?” Scott asks.
Now Jeremy has another thing to be confused about. But Fritz understands as he nods somberly. “I’ve accidentally broken about two phones now.”
“Only two phones? You haven’t made any lightbulbs explode?”
“H-Have you?” Jeremy demands, not liking how proud Scott sounds. And what kind of broken, did the phones also explode!
“More than I can count,” Scott smiles even though he shouldn’t be. “It used to be impossible for me to walk into a room without making at least one explode.”
Fritz is now grinning. “I haven’t had anything like that, just flickering and making the room cold.”
“Well color me impressed.”
“Are we s-s-supposed t-to be able to do that?” Jeremy questions. Not knowing if he wants the answer.
“It, uh, depends on how you died,” Fritz explains. “Tragic deaths tend to give ghosts a lot of energy and they appear pretty quickly. Quiet deaths give ghosts little to no energy, and it takes them a little longer to appear. Both gain more as time passes, one just starts with a little more.”
Jeremy looks up at Scott for confirmation, only to find the older watching Fritz with suspicion. “How many ghosts have you met before us?”
“Oh! Uh, quite a few. But I’ve only met you two after I died.”
He can’t help but feel disappointed Scott and him weren’t the first Fritz met. At least that means all of his questions can get answered if Scott can’t.
...wait.
“You,” Scott begins as Jeremy can only stare at Fritz. They’re both speechless for a minute as the teenager starts to look more and more nervous. “You could see ghosts before this?”
“Y-Yeah, I-”
Fritz yelps as Scott grabs his arm before pulling him out of the office. Leaving Jeremy behind, uncertain what just happened. Hesitates before darting after the two, both from the want to not be left out and a little worried what the older ghost was planning.
He thought they would go into a more private room. Maybe to Mike in order to test something. Instead, Scott walks through the front doors.
Jeremy stops just before he leaves the restaurant. Stares into the darkness, unsure where Scott and Fritz are without bright lights illuminating the parking lot. For once in over a year he actually contemplates going outside.
It fills him with terror, thinking about leaving the one place he’s familiar with, even if he only goes out a few feet. Because Fazbear Pizzeria has been the only thing he’s ever known since his death. It’s where the Toys are, the ones who have been there for him ever since the beginning of him haunting the restaurant. It has the sound of Mike’s voice echoing through the dinning room, the only living person he’s interacted with after being nothing but invisible to hundreds of other people.
What if he gets lost? What if something happens to him? What if he just disappears?
“Hey, Jerber.”
Jeremy nearly screams at the sound of Mike’s voice, turning away from the daunting outside to see a familiar smirked aimed toward him.
“You sc-sc-scared me!”
“Sorry, Douche Bag got sick of my ass, so I came to fuck with you.” Mike looks outside then back at Jeremy’s glare. “Want to go outside?”
The ghost wrings his hands before slowly nodding. “W-W-Will...will I d-disappear?”
“Phone Guy’s ass doesn’t,” the man muses. “Irish Jig walked all the goddamn way here. Why can’t Jerber’s?”
That...is a valid question. But what if he can’t? Fritz said Jeremy doesn’t have the energy to make the room cold because he had a quiet death. He doesn’t know how Scott died, but he’s made lightbulbs explode. So what if he doesn’t have enough energy to survive like the other two do?
Jeremy suddenly offers his hand, staring up at Mike with a pleading expression. The man doesn’t say anything as he takes the ghost’s hand.
It’s warm. Instead of feeling a freezing chill when someone walks through him, Jeremy’s hand feels warm. Like it’s actually being held. And then he’s being tugged forward as Mike opens the door and walks outside.
Mike isn’t left alone in the night as Jeremy fades away. The ghost stays right by his side, not even growing dimmer as they make their way toward what sounds like an argument.
“It’s not my fault I apparently repel ghosts!”
“Who else’s would it be!”
It takes a moment for Jeremy to realize the voice Scott is yelling at isn’t familiar. And at first, he doesn’t see the unknown person. But he does sense something. Like a bad feeling. One that makes him want to run in the opposite direction.
He doesn’t resist Mike’s gentle pull as he guides them closer. “Hey, assholes, you forgot the fucking Jerber.”
Fritz gasps when he spots them. Scott turns to them with a look of remorse. And then a living shadow gives them a smile.
That. That is what’s giving him the bad feeling screaming danger.
“I’m sorry, Jeremy. I didn’t even think about it,” Scott murmurs.
“Jeremy, it’s nice to properly meet you,” the shadow greets. “Scotty’s told me so much, I was disappointed when you weren’t part of the welcoming party.”
Now that they’re closer, the shadow becomes a tall figure. With long hair tied back in a ponytail and wearing a Fazbear uniform. Who’s a deep purple from head to toe.
Scott gestures to the man, as if he doesn’t feel the paralyzing sense of terror radiating from him. “Jeremy, this is Vincent. Fritz, this is Mike. Mike, Fritz.”
Fritz stares for a moment. Gives a small wave. “H-Hi.”
“Your boss is a dick, Irish Jig.”
That earns Mike a smile. But Jeremy can’t seem to move.
“So about this repellent,” Vincent begins as he looks Jeremy up and down with interest. “How does it work, exactly?”
“I-It’s a sense.” Fritz only looks concerned. Opens his mouth to say something before deciding against it. “You feel like danger, so spirits will automatically avoid you. Some can ignore it. Others, n-not so much.”
“Fucking with shit, Purple Guy?”
“Seems like it,” Vincent hums. “Tell me everything you know.”
Jeremy has a feeling it’s going to be a long night.
#I'm excited to start getting further into the worldbuilding#we've got so much lined up#and while I know it's super niche#I hope ya'll are enjoying it#have a great weekend!#FNAF bois#BTE writing#Ghost Jeremy AU#To See And To Hear#cw#content warning
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