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1920sladydectective · 2 months ago

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Best Friend's Mother Ch.3 6.8K

This is part three of the story inspired by @shinyshayminflower

It was gonna be the final part, but it's looking like there's at least another chapter or two to come

Angsty, Sad, just loads of stuff. Tiny bit of Smut MDNI 18+

Link to the whole fic on AO3 here lovelies, or you can scroll down my acc to find it here

Thank you @uselessbard1031 for being the best story sounding board

HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOO

The cold light of day revealed more than you could stomach.

You hated yourself, hated her, hated everything you had ever stood for and accepted and wanted in that stupid house.

Mel’s film came back a few days after you’d settled back into your flat, the Kodak Gold showing the pathetic rose tinted glasses that covered you for July and August. It was picturesque, toes in sand and melting Mr Whippys. Smooshed faces and a pissed off Mina. She showed them off, with a happy voice and gesticulating hands. It felt sort of like she was trying to cheer you up.

You’d been in a ‘funk’ since you got back and it was being chalked up to your immediately heavy workload.

That was it. Too much reading, four new essays and some new bullshit about work experience. Not the crushing void in your heart, not the breakup that was barely there, that existed for you and you alone.

Ambessa Medarda was a black hole, alluring in her violence, beautiful in her consumption and you were mere space dust. That she had made abundantly clear.

It kept you up at night, embarrassment curdled in you like milk. Body in tatters trying to keep your mind in check.

I’ll ring you when I’m back

Whyever would you need to do that

You fucking idiot.

Her stupid, soft pyjamas kept her grip on you, your phone’s fancy screen shining like her eyes. She was everywhere and you couldn’t tell anyone.

You were the living dead, cursed to be unloved and used forever. You never thought of yourself as dramatic before, preferring humour and dismissiveness, but the gaping wound in you cried for attention. Cried to be acknowledged and picked at, a scar in the making, as each little flicker of healing was ripped off again and again.

Six weeks later you still felt like a lovesick puppy. University and your job made time sparse and relaxation sparser still, but somehow the sadness lingered. You’d been grieving it for nearly as long as it had happened, some weird crossroads where it felt inappropriate to be sad. It was a summer fling, how many had existed since the dawn of time and yet it dug into you like an elusive splinter.

Mel was another issue entirely. Warm and tender, trying to prop you up when you stopped eating or didn’t keep up with the laundry. Part of you wanted to scream and cry. I’m not who you think I am, your mind shouted, I’m awful and you should hate me like I hate myself.

Then you’d eat a sausage roll, she’d send you a shitpost and you’d cry in the shower. Selfish as it was, you couldn’t lose both Medardas.

Sometimes you thought you saw her name pop up on your phone, you’d look each time like a baby falling for a game of peekaboo. Nothing. The last message made your lungs tense every single time.

Bacon Crunchy or No?

Crunchy, but still soft.

Demanding x

That breakfast in bed was the most revisited memory, probably spurred on by how many times you’d read those texts. You wouldn’t eat bacon anymore, flicked it out of your meal deal BLT before realising how counterproductive you’d made your sandwich. Wet mayonnaise and lettuce with half a tomato slice. What a sad life. Your cheeks were damp again and it was hard to breathe.

At some point enough was enough. You were a twenty three year old mooning over a woman over twenty five years your senior. You had a life, you had friends and a dad who called you sometimes. She was not the sun, you did not revolve around her.

That lasted for about a week, until Mel mentioned going back briefly for her Mum’s birthday. November 9th. You hadn’t known that, wished you still didn’t. Somehow you were in a shopping centre helping her search for a gift. Budget was extensive and so was Mel’s ability to shop.

What would be a good gift for Ambessa? Rat poison perhaps?

You saw it or maybe it saw you. Gold, each chain link tiny, making it look almost like falling sunlight. One large crimson ruby hung at the end, metal criss crossing over it in a pretty setting. It would fit almost every outfit she wore. It matched her favourite earrings. It was unique, like her and she didn’t deserve it.

“That seems perfect,” Your voice croaked, pointing towards the glass cabinet.

Mel agreed because well, it just was. You lived, slowly and painfully, Rowan Atkinson’s scene from Love Actually. This was your punishment, your karma for your indecisiveness and deceit. Leaving Selfridges (dissociated and bankrupt from a bagel) you allowed yourself to be talked at. That seemed to be happening a lot these days, more sounding board and less person. That seemed to be what you’d lost, your personness, stuck in silk sheets in Surrey. There was no recon mission to be had either, the invitation for birthday celebrations blissfully, brutally not extended to you.

You heard all about it though, obviously. You weren’t that lucky. Mel and Kino had organised a party, she had pretended to be ever so surprised and you had received fourteen drunk videos at three am. The house was different to how you’d ever seen it, twinkling lights and darker furnishings to herald the stormy winter approaching. Kino was doing the CanCan, offscreen choked laughter making your heart hurt. Each video devolved to make less sense, snapshots of the living room, pretty decoration and discarded champagne. The last one made your world spin, bile eating your throat.

It was Ambessa, glassy eyed with shimmering makeup and bouncy curls, grinning at the camera with a cupcake in hand. Sitting pretty, as perfect as you’d imagined, was the necklace.

“How’s your party been, Mum?” Mel’s hiccupped voice.

“Perfect, Darling,” Ambessa muttered, an easy smile growing.

“And your gift?”

“Also perfect, Little wolf,” Her fingers stroked it instinctively, feeling along the ruby.

“Say thank you to the camera then,” Mel says, impatient and swaying slightly, “She’s the one who helped me find it,”

The shift was slight, you only noticed because you were looking, her face draining of some joy.

Tone coy and light she stared directly at the screen, “Ah I see, when you said one of your friends, I didn’t realise you meant her! Who knew she knew me so well?” a criminally long pause, “Thank you, Sweet Girl,”

The footage stopped, her smirk immortalised.

You hated her. Vile, vindictive little bitch. You burned all but one of your pyjamas sets in the garden, mesmerised by the flames as if their heat could cleanse you. Charred linen smelt like shit and you dumped it in the bin before it became a problem for the neighbours. Lip chewed raw, you curled onto the dining chair you had occupied half an hour ago, looking down at your traitorous phone

Your text response was calmer after that.

Nice, cute party! Drink some water babe xox

I kissed Jayce

Oh?

And Viktor

Can you call?

�� It’s 4am Mel.

Yes

The shrill thrum of Facetime rang throughout your kitchen, ear twitching slightly as you answered.

“Thank fuck,” Mel sounded both stressed and excited, “This party has been so weird I wish you were here,”

You didn’t. “Weird cause you tongued your two closest friends? Or weird some other way?”

“Don’t say tongued it’s vile,” She was clearly stumbling down the corridor to her bedroom, “And both, I guess? It’s a long story”

“Babble away then, babe,” You’d missed this, missed her.

It actually wasn’t that long at all, content wise, Mel was just so drunk she restarted five thousand times. Jayce and Viktor were together, this you knew. Mel would sometimes kiss them both, occasionally more, and she didn’t know what to feel; this was new. Having a conversation about emotional intimacy versus physical with her when she was drunk and your last fuck had been her mother was like a stupid game of Monoply. It took forever, not much was accomplished and she ended up falling asleep just as you were getting to the good bit.

“Mum’s also been weird,” It was slurred, hair spraying on the pillow, “Nostalgic or something,”

“Nostalgic?” You didn’t want to talk about her, you didn’t.

“I dunno, think she missed me and Kino,” She coughed, “She’s been more quiet,”

Quiet. Of course. She didn’t seem quiet when she threw your pet name in your face, but hey what did you know? Follow up questions were useless, Mel’s snores crackling through the phone.

“Are you sleeping, Little wolf?”

You were going to throw up, twitching hands launching your phone across the table. Mel’s phone echoed the crashing, drawing Ambessa’s attention. Picking the phone from her daughter’s fingers, she raised a quizzical and then uncertain brow.

“Night Mel,” You whispered, slamming the end call button. The last noise from her end was that voice calling out your name.

You didn’t sleep, your only remaining pair of pyjamas mocking you from the laundry basket.

It washed over you like the tides, again and again, each time inching closer to consuming you. So much energy had been expended to move past this, but you crumbled like a stale biscuit in the face of her teasing, of your name from her mouth. Even now your heart skipped, ached, sang. It wasn’t real, the adoration and attraction she had looked at you with. How could you grapple with that? Alone and surrounded by all the kindness she had gifted you. There was a doubt, tart and strong, in your mind that you would ever matter to anyone ever again. Your clanking alarm clock seemed to agree, burrowing into your fitful dreams and warping to the sound of her laugh.

Mel came back, hungover and a little emotionally unstable which seemed to happen every time she went home. You had tacos on the sofa, sharing a beer and having the same conversation as before, though sober this time. You steered clear of her, focusing on Mel with an intensity that made the girl snort.

“Back to planet earth then?”

“What?” Lettuce tumbled out, they’d given you a hard shell by accident.

“I mean this is probably the most you’ve spoken to me since the summer,”

A flinch, body rejecting the truth, as your lips turned down.

“I get it, work and stuff,” Mel quickly added, stroking your arm like she would Mina, “Just missed you,”

“Missed you too,” It choked out, despite your efforts to stay calm, flinging yourself against her and squeezing.

Fuck Ambessa. It settled in you, a certainty fuelled by the intense turmoil of the past twenty four hours. You loved Mel and you would not be a shit friend anymore.

Days were lighter after that, your acceptance shifting the colours of your world slightly. Your fancy laptop was a blessing, not a collar, helping you write your thesis without trouble. The coffee shop could have been worse, it was in a beautiful building with a rich history and it meant you could eat branded beans instead of 26p sludge. You’d even managed to save some money for Christmas. You were rising from the ashes of unrequited love, becoming a true optimist. Maybe you might start liking yourself soon.

Then your dad called.

“Hey, Peanut,” His gravelly tone was easily decipherable. He was about to disappoint you, again.

“Hi Dad,” You settled in the armchair, chest deflating, “Everything okay?”

“I’ve got some news,” a rattled sigh, “I’m gonna need to stay on till January,”

Rough hands ran over your face, “Of course,”

“I’m sorry kid but with the mortgage and-”

“I know, I understand,”

“Maybe you could go back to that friend’s house?” He said hopefully, “You had such a good time,”

Not fucking likely. If you told Mel that’s exactly what she’d suggest, so this one was staying quiet, you weren’t that healed. “It’s alright, I think I’d like to be at home, see some familiar faces, could always have dinner with the cousins,”

“Yeah,” He sniffed, “Yeah okay love,”

“I love you, I guess I’ll see you in the new year?”

“Of course, and I’ll ring you in the holidays,” He was firm in his intentions, even if it wouldn’t stick, “Love you,”

Christmas alone. Lucky you.

It took more effort than you’d anticipated to censor the news around Mel. Part of you, small and desperate, wanted to fall into her and cry about it but then you would end up sniffling, sitting in her car on the way to that damned house. The last few weeks of term flew by, deadlines and Christmas parties numbing you out, pushing you into a glitzy, overwhelmed state. Mel was in her element, glittering gold as she wrapped a mountain of gifts, covered all of your kitchen surfaces in icing sugar and screamed George Michael. She was supposed to leave before you, giving you three days of peace in the house before you ended up in rural Derbyshire with nobody but the deer to talk to.

About an hour before Mel was due to leave you received a phone call from your father and it affirmed for you that the universe, in all its cosmic wonders, had it out for you.

Your terraced house had a very complex and old heating system, which had apparently died a sudden and dramatic death. Sure, whatever, no problem. Except a new one was going to cost at least ten thousand pounds and couldn’t be installed until January anyway. The neighbours had told him about the sudden flooding, and he had tried to deal with it faster, but being so far away and with so little immediate funds.

“So it’s fucked,” You groan, “I guess I’ll have to stay here then,”

“I-” Your dad sounded shattered, “We might have to looking at selling, I haven’t got the cash to fix it,”

“I’ll figure that out Dad,” Tight throat, air raspy, “It’s okay, thanks for calling,”

“What’s fucked?” Mel said, appearing like a ghost, your shoulders jolting.

“Eavesdropper,” It was a grumble, “It’s nothing,”

“It’s clearly not if you’re looking at staying here,”

Your eyes rolled, frustration bubbling,“House’s heating broke, can’t be fixed till January so I’ll stay here,”

Mel looked crestfallen, “Oh no,” She embraced you, the hug more loving than you deserved, “What’s your dad going to do? Come up here? He can have my room obviously,”

“Why would he need that?” You snorted, “He’s staying on the rig for Christmas-” Uh. Oops.

Brown eyes flared with anger, “What? You didn’t tell me that!”

“I-I” You were at a loss, desperate to avoid what was obviously hurtling your way, “I didn’t wanna be a downer on all the cool plans, I was just gonna relax alone or whatever,” Lame excuse, loser.

“You’re coming to ours,” Mel said, decided, waving away all of your protests like one would swat a fly. Somehow she was already calling her mother, telling her to expect another guest for Christmas. The stress of heating was the final straw on a decrepit, twitching camel.

Had you died? Were you in Hell?

That’s what the Land Rover felt like, speeding through endless countryside as she sang Christmas Wrapping for the ninth time. You felt almost outside your body, about to reunite with a part of yourself you’d allowed to die. Mel had chewed you out for the first hour of the journey about being an idiot, about upsetting her by not just asking to stay. I know it was awesome in the summer, she had whined, you’re not like a burden or anything.

Rolling up the driveway felt like that moment on a rollercoaster just before the adrenaline floods you. Your stomach turns, you feel the wind and feel how high up you are, seeking an out you know isn’t there. Then the ride drops, hurtles down the track and you’re too overwhelmed to think much of anything at all. Ambessa standing, cashmere jumper and longer curls, against the door waiting to greet you both was your drop. Blank, hot nothingness.

“Darlings,” She cried, lips as crimson as ever.

She stepped forward, throwing her arms around both of you and you thought you might die. You hated her. Her smirk showed she could tell, though it wasn’t as firmly fixed as usual. Sunrays, squinting eyes and that smirk as she ate a slice of watermelon. Shut Up.

A small dinner was already ready, a weathered looking Kino dishing up portions. His greeting was warm but distracted.

“Mum’s had me hauling all the trees into place,” He grumbled, passing you a bowl of stew, “because of course it couldn’t wait until the precious princesses arrived to help,”

Gods you’d missed him. “You think I’m a princess Kino? I’m touched,”

Mel forced you into your chair, snorting at her brother, “Would you believe this idiot was going to stay at uni all by herself?”

You didn’t feel like an idiot, you felt like a prey animal fleeing one predator to sprint into the den of another.

Ambessa interjected then, “Yes, what’s this I hear about broken heating?”

It was an innocent and very valid question from the woman hosting you. She needed to shut the fuck up. “Uh, our terraced house was still using its system from the 60s and it finally died,” You said, instead of telling her the former, “Dad’s on the rig and can’t get anyone to fix it sooner than January,”

“We’ll have you for the whole festive period then,” Ambessa said, tone calm as she sent you a smile. It was indifferent and kind, in the same way she had been those first days of the summer. It rocked you, eating some of the adrenaline and replacing it with tears that glazed embarrassingly for a second. Long enough for her to see, but with enough control to spare you from Mel.

Five weeks of being in Medarda Central, playing happy families, “If that’s okay,”.

“We’re so happy to have you, Dear,”

Bitch. “Thank you, Ambessa,”

That evening was like a dream, stuck behind the screens of a nightmare. Three large christmas trees to decorate, a tradition apparently, with mulled wine and gingerbread. Everything was beautiful, and to your surprise each ‘child’ was given a tree. The larger one in the foyer was put up on November 21st every year by Ambessa, Mel told you, but the Medarda siblings and Mina each got their own tree to decorate once everyone was home.

You had been given Mina’s with a snort from Ambessa, who was supposedly happy to have someone else take on the ‘lazy demon’s workload’. It felt nice, for a moment, as you stared down at the fluff ball who seemed to have accepted you as a guest. This was a new thing and if you closed your eyes and breathed out of your armpit no memories appeared. You decorated methodically, using some of Mina’s and some spare that had been assembled for you. A perfect evening, with your best friend and her stupid big brother. And their sexy, evil, confusing mother.

Like you thought, a dream to nightmare pipeline. A trend you saw continuing for the rest of the holiday. It ended with watching The Grinch, something you had never seen. Jim Carrey was unusual and Martha May was disturbingly attractive, but that’s all you really gained, too busy ignoring Ambessa’s joking gaze. Did she think you were crazy? That you wanted to spend this holiday being fucked about by her too? Mel’s head on your shoulder grounded you, saved you from the turbulence of her.

It caught you once, entirely by accident, and your head began to swim. Golden swirls, tender and amused. She looked more beautiful somehow, finally victorious in getting your attention as she raised a brow. Your neck mottled red as anxious teeth crushed against one another. Rough hands stroking your cheek, kissing your sleepy eyelids as you ignored the film that followed Trading Places. This place was haunted and you realised that you were just another ghost. Kino went to bed first and unlike a few months ago, you were determined not to be a straggler. You got your water and tea whilst Mel spoke to her Mum about the upcoming Carol Concert you were supposed to be attending.

“Night,” You said, voice soft, as she nodded to them.

“Oh,” Mel said, “Bit early for you, isn’t it?”

“Long day,” A smile, “See you in the morning,”

“Nice to have you back, well done with the Tree today,” Ambessa’s silky tone drifted, “Sleep well Sweetheart,”

That was a new one and it caused no reaction at all. Your hand was trembling because the tea was hot, that was all. Your body shook from the exhaustion in the spare room, lip wet and trembling, because the journey was long and you missed your Dad. You could not feel her phantom touches brushing the tears away, it was simply the wind.

Ten days of Christmas festivities passed and it did not get any easier. No matter when you woke, she still somehow had your tea ready for you. You’d hoped initially that it was Rictus, the man you had come to know slightly better than in the warmer months, but alas he hadn’t a clue what you were on about. Those eyes, hypnotic and cruel, still attempted to lure you in each day. Hands lingered, bodies closer than needed as you passed in corridors or sat on the same sofa.

One day you boiled over, alone in the kitchen with her as she sorted through recipes.

“Will you knock it off?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t hum at me,” You snapped, hands clenching your mug, horror clenching your heart, “T-The touching and the looks, stop it,”

Ambessa laughed, pushing her glasses onto her head as she fixed you with a look, “Didn’t seem to mind it a couple of months ago, Sweet Girl,”

“A couple of months ago I was a fool,” A stuttered breath, half stuck and bubbling, “Mel’s my priority, I love her and this fucked up thing would hurt her, so stop it,”

Ambessa’s look changed into something you couldn’t understand, eyes pensive and face blank. She nodded once, head tilted to scan you. Was it respect? Surely not, she barely saw you as a full person.

“Okay,” Her tone was measured, “I can work with that,”

It relieved you, the thick, invisible smog circling overhead finally beginning to clear. You didn't trust her intentions towards you, but you could trust them towards Mel. The tremors and the cries slowed slightly, your sleep troubled but not totally absent.

Something new formed, something you could just about stomach. It was just as if she was your best friend’s mum, hosting you for the holidays, with jokes and motherly pats. She had never known the taste of your lips, you had never nestled your head between her thighs, never shared an overly fond look over her daughter’s head. It was easier this way, you promised yourself in the dead of night as you tossed from side to side. You’d spent so little time actually in this bed, that now it seemed as foreign to you as the woman who occupied the other. Her eyes still stayed on you from time to time, but it was insignificant now.

Did you prefer that? Was this better?

All Ambessa knew was that she did not like this change. Not one bit. She was unsure of how to process you coming back. You were a nice enough girl, an excellent fuck and actually funny to be around. You made Mel happy, which made her happy, but you had gotten a little too attached. She had avoided you since then for that reason, the thoughts of you that drifted through easy to push away. That being said, she missed you sprawled in her bed babbling nonsense as she ruined you. You were a pest, lingering around her thoughts and she was unsure of how to proceed. She seemed to regain one part of you, sarcastic and passionate, at the expense of any and all private access to you. It irked her, though she would not admit it, that you had called it before she had. Guilt sat heavy in her stomach, mixing with something else as she remembered your aggressive devotion to her daughter. Parts of you, buried, now resurfaced for her. How you took your tea, which hand would brush back hair behind your ear, in which order you would put your socks and shoes on. Tiny, minute details. She glanced at you, licking up cream on a hot chocolate and saw images of a similar kind, your pretty crinkled eyes eating an ice cream as you gazed at her across the sunlounger.

Ambessa Medarda could not wait for you to get the hell out of her house.

How ironic, considering you finally felt you were flowing into the new rhythm.

She wasn’t scary, she had no power. Other than the fact that this was, you know, her house. You shared tea, read together, joked and laughed. You only looked at her lips every now and again, a natural thing. You looked at Mel’s lips sometimes. Yeah. Her nicknames only caused nausea, not an actual gag to choke you. Plus you were distracted half the time by Kino and Mel. Frockiling about in London, seeing a show or wandering through museums, it was endless. Somehow you had done more in the first two weeks here than most of the summer, mind frazzled by Christmas joy. The best part was that on December 17th it started to snow and showed no signs of stopping. A true winter wonderland.

The only other distinct change from the summer was the shiny new vibrator in your bedside drawer. You still had needs, for god sake and the distraction should help. Nothing would satiate the burn like she did, but you tried not to think about that once you realised it was her you pictured to send yourself over the edge. Oops.

Ambessa, restless and frustrated, strolled down the corridor in the dead of night. Each door zipped past until a grunt startled her into stillness. It was from behind your door and a flare of worry resounded in her at the pained sound. Against her better judgement, her fist rose to knock on the wood when she heard it again. Clearer now, louder. Not pain, her mind roared, it was a cry of pleasure. Pleased little pants and gasps travelled to her ears, turning her thoughts to molten nothingness. She had uncharacteristically avoided sex for the past few weeks, and this was enough for her to tumble over the edge. Leaning against the wall, breath silent, she gulped. This was ridiculous, wrong and crazy and reckless. She was in the hallway for christ’s sake. Still, with chaotic urgency, her hand slipped beneath her trousers as she caressed her neglected clit.

You lay, legs wide and twitching, pleasuring yourself in bed totally unaware of your desperate audience. Tonight had been tougher on your resilience, her dress was so simple and yet it hugged her in a way that made you think of flowing water. Water led you to thinking of the pool and suddenly you were smacked with images of her naked swimming. It was too good to ignore, already halfway down the hot spiral your body craved, teeth bruising plump lips. Head thrown back, you began to keen and mewl, the toy pushing you into mindlessness, each gentle buzz pulling a whine.

Ambessa was almost nonsensical, unable to battle for her ironclad control as your noises had her frantically chasing release. You had haunted her for days, flushed cheeks and snide comments, as if nothing had ever happened. You essentially ignored any heat from her and it was maddening. She wanted to fuck you into the mattress you lay on now, the image making her eyes roll slightly. The final straw, shooting her into a shaking climax, was a sudden, bursting whimper of her name from your lips.

You hadn’t meant to, rocking yourself against this thick rabbit, but the image of her was so clear and you wanted it so bad, craved it. You cried out for her, as you had so many times before. Everything sang, bright and harsh, as you went limp.

She was much the same, choking her gasps back as her knees shook slightly. Finally some relief, her thoughts able to order themselves slightly. She did not, however, like the form they took. You, temptress and forbidden fruit, carved a home in her head she could not fill with anything else.

This was a mess. She was a mess. You were a problem.

Ambessa found herself bundling up, rambling at Rictus about almost everything as she prepared to check the lake, to see if it was ready for skating. He took it well, he was trusted for a reason. There was a merry glint in those eyes, a knowing of his Mistress. Something was wrong, was grating on her and he believed that something had a name and sparkly, open eyes.

“Need anything else?” Rictus asked, passing her the mug of coffee so she could finish it, “I’ll sort out whatever part of your wardrobe Mina has mutilated and then start wrapping the kids gifts,”

“Fantastic,” Distracted, dismissive, till her shoulders tensed, “Did you get anything for her?”

He remained neutral, “Did you want me to?”

A pregnant pause, stormy eyes, “I-Uh yes, I’ll send you a list,”

As if her house had become a prison, she smacked into you just as she wandered outside. You stood, fluffy coat and thick scarf, staring mystified at the white landscape.

“I’m sorry,” It was a squeak, mind haunted by your enjoyment last night.

“No, no,” She said, “That was my fault,”

“What,” A swallow, as you met her eyes with passiveness, “Where are you off to?”

“The lake,” She grunted, “See if it’s ready,”

“Ready?”

“For skating,”

Your mind exploded with excitement, never having even considered this as a possibility, lips betraying you, “Oh my god really, can I come?”

Your childlike wonder clawed at her lungs, posture softening, smile tugged forward unbidden, “If you’re careful, and do as I say,”

That was how you’d ended up watching Ambessa Medarda check this huge lake with military precision. You hadn’t visited it much in the summer, it was a fifteen minute walk through the woods so in the heat the pool was the obvious preference. Now though? It was a magical, entrancing grove that you giddy with joy. It was almost like it didn’t matter that it was her, that this was the longest you’d spent alone since August.

“Well,” Ambessa called, “Looks perfect to me,”

To your surprise, she removed two pairs of skates from her bag and chucked one at you, leaning against a large Yew tree to put her own on.

You didn’t know she knew to bring a second pair and it flared suspicion in you, “Why do you have these?”

“They’re Mel’s, Sweetheart,” She answered, amusement tickling her cheeks, “Didn’t realise they were still in there, you’re the same shoe size,”

Oh. Okay. That still didn’t solve the issue that you had no idea how to skate, and you said as much.

Ambessa could feel, as intimately as the danger of an oncoming bullet, that this would not end well. The offer left her lips all the same. She could teach you, it was Christmas tradition and Mel would end up dragging you here the second she found out it was ready.

She was a good teacher, patient and calm, with a habit of everexcessive praise and degradation intermingling. You were being a twat when gaining momentum, but did turning very well Darling. It felt unreal, distant from the dull ache she had placed in your heart, as acceptance slotted further into your bones.

Soaring like an injured bird, she watched you. Round and round you moved, grace slow to arrive but firm in staying, as her eyes stung. She couldn’t understand why, breath quick, as she coughed into gloved hands. The pressure built the more you moved and Ambessa nibbled her lip in contemplation.

“Oh my god, it’s ready,” Kino’s loud shriek saved his mother from further emotional introspection, “MEL. MEL. Come Skate,”

The Medarda siblings joined you, both skilled and dangerously competitive, forcing Ambessa to tug you left and right across the ice to avoid their thundering.

In short, it was the best day yet and that night you could sleep without a cry or an orgasm to force you. Christmas might actually be salvageable.

Another party. You’d joked to Mel that she really was the perfect upper class stereotype with a pool and horses you had avoided out of immense fear, with all her time spent getting drunk and talking about all the things she’d done. Mel was a bit offended, which made your assessment all the funnier, gold lips pouting. This one was very intimate, you’d know everyone there and it was more just a chance to see everyone before Christmas Day.It was just the Medardas and you on the big day, their first year having another person due to Ambessa’s usual strictness that it was only family. That was like a lobster slap to the face, making you feel special and like a burden all at once.

Somehow you were crucial in planning yet again, Mel too busy seeing old friends before they went away and Kino refusing to engage. He’d done his bit for the year with Ambessa’s birthday, he stubbornly replied, hiding himself away in the library with Mina.

That was how you found yourself in the kitchen, at the breakfast table expending half your energy to a Chess Game with Rictus and the other to being a food tester.

“Don’t like cranberry sauce,” You grimaced at her offering, Rook takes Knight “That one’s for him,”

“I don’t either,” Bishop takes Rook, his gruff smile making you laugh in kind.

“What’s the point of you then?” Ambessa snapped, eating the canape herself.

“Idle decoration?” “Part of the furniture?” You responded the same time as Rictus, giggles hidden by an insincere hand.

The three of you powered through the Everest of washing up she had created, humming to the radio and thinking up the worst Christmas cracker jokes we’d heard over the years. You were on drying duty initially, till it proved you hadn’t got a clue where anything lived.

“Didn’t you live here for three months?” He mocked, reordering the baking trays.

“She didn’t cook once in that time,” Ambessa sighed, “Some people just take and take and take,”

It was a joke, but it made you angry and the plate hit the water with more force than you could control. Soapy, lukewarm water crashed against both you and Ambessa, leaving you incredulous and her as still as a statue.

“Well,” Rictus said, warm presence cutting through the tension, “Off you both go to change, it’s enough for me to finish alone anyway,”

You both rushed down the corridor, and you felt yourself lurch as something reminiscent of the echo of an apology left her lips. You waved it away, eyes stinging as you slammed the door and curled under the duvet.

Everything was fine. Everything was good. You were friends now and you didn’t love her at all and you weren’t fuelled most by her laugh, her approval, her existence. You fell asleep with a wet stomach, melancholic music echoing in your head as you ended up back on that dreamlike lake.

The day arrived, December 22nd and you felt weird nauseous butterflies. Things had backtracked a bit since the washing up, but you were determined to drag yourself forward.

Everything shone, the powerhouse of a small country fuelling the lights and decorations as Mel sat crisscrossed on her bed, painting you like one of her canvases.

“This feels like a lot,” You said, yawning, “Everyone coming already knows what I look like,”

She smacked your arm lightly, “It’s Christmas, live a little,”

“I’m already living a lot thank you, you’ve got me in heels and spanx,” You flicked the snap to emphasise your point, moving your lips to hinder her lipstick application.

“Brat,” She gripped your chin, keeping you steady as her face lit up, “There you look like an angel now,”

You did, Your hair was shiny and curled, your face a painted marvel of Mel’s imagination and one of her white and gold dresses clung to you, highlighting everything you had ever been blessed with. Your eyes burned. A click smashed through your thoughts, the film camera flash capturing you forever, awestruck at yourself and grateful for your best friend.

Joy came easy here, her presence diluted by people you had come to love, as you slipped through the small crowd, challenging Viktor to a sober chess rematch. You didn’t win, but neither did he, and with a stalemate reached you gobbled up Ambessa’s admittedly perfect food parcels. Rictus seemed to circle back to you more often than anyone else, smirk on his face, a silent comradery.

The record player was soothing, champagne and eggnog mixing to make an odd sensation in your stomach as Kino twirled you around.

“I’m glad Mel has you,” He mutters against your ear, “She’s needed a friend to ground her,”

Everything spun weirdly, the compliment ironic as you nodded roughly, “I love her, she’s the best, and hey, you’re not too bad either,”

He laughed, twirling you a final time, “Always the charmer, Princess,”

Chaos devolved, as it always did with this group of friends, the snow too tempting a siren. You’d actually been having a coherent conversation with Ambessa and Cassandra Kiramman about your thesis progress, eyes only slightly hazy with booze, when you were hauled away by Jayce and VI. A snowball fight on the patio had erupted, bodies numb to the cold as their skin was heated by alcohol, violent throws and crashing dodges. No true adult participated, though some watched fondly, as Rictus recorded the whole thing on an old camcorder, another Medarda tradition apparently.

Ambessa trailed the scene, heart warm at the sight. She loved her children, loved the people they had become even if sometimes they seemed alien to her, more gentle and considerate than she considered possible. Their friends were a great reflection of them, loud and eclectic, with the loyalty of a wolf pack. You flitted about like a golden mote of light, drawing her eye more than she wished. That dress was sinful, you filled it in a way that made her ache, makeup turning your eyes into deep pools in wish she lost her senses. She knew nothing about your thesis, though Cassandra seemed to have continued that conversation with her as you were dragged away. This was becoming impractical, her body not her own. She retreated to the kitchen under the pretense of refills.

You bowed out early, freezing your tits off was fun until it wasn’t and you were less agile than the others. Beelinging for the kitchen, desperate for tea and to choke down more canapes, your cold skin smashed against a warm, firm wall.

She was beautiful tonight, as always. Resplendent and controlling, wielding her space perfectly. Braids and curls intermingled to frame her angular face, statement birthday necklace in place with matching earrings, as long lashes fluttered. It was the most stuck you’d felt since coming back to the house, an aura so similar to that first barbeque, that you’d almost slipped and made an inappropriate joke.

Your damp, snow soaked curls stuck your face as you stood inches from her, the kitchen silent save for your mingled breath.

“Good party,” You crooked, frozen in face.

“Yes,” She responded in kind, “A success I think,”

“I-I just wanted another salmon tart thing,”

She placed one in your hand, eyes widening, as she gripped your bare shoulder “You’re freezing, Sweet girl,”

Sweet Girl the tipsy, happy haze called. You nodded, “Was in the snow,”

She could warm you up, her sly and corrupted mind cried, thoughts blank as your innocent, devil eyes captured her body and perhaps even soul. She moved thoughtlessly, a gentle ringed hand tilting your chin as her dark lips crushed against yours.

Euphoria. You were in heaven, succumbing hungrily to the kiss, lungs starved of oxygen for four months. No logic here, no reason or doubt. Only her firm guiding embrace, and warm tongue. Ambessa Medarda was an evil, perfect woman and you could not escape her.

Dizzy, drunk in more ways than one, you pushed her off gently. It took everything in you, salmon tart crushed to nothing on the ground as you gulped.

Her inability to treat you a person was not why you’d stopped this, though if you respected yourself it should have been, it was because of Mel.

“This isnt-”

“Oh my fucking god,” It was shrill, whispered and bitter, your heart dropping out of your ass, ”No, you haven’t done this to me Mum, not again,”

Speak of the devil.

#ambessa x reader #ambessa medarda #arcane #ambessa smut #arcane ambessa #reader insert

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ducktoo · 5 months ago

Text

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

2. Begin anew…also a-screwed

Note: besides the dumb acc issue, nothing else. Enjoy!

Masterlist here

Morning came too quickly.

Y/n squinted at the pale sunlight streaming through the gaps in his curtains. His first day as aespa’s manager loomed over him like a storm cloud, and the nerves from yesterday had clearly followed him into his dreams. He sighed, rubbing his eyes, thinking back to that awkward encounter with Karina. He had barely gotten through that without stumbling over his own words.

Throwing on his outfit, he grabbed his bag and headed to the dorm to check on the members before the day's packed schedule. Maybe this time he’d manage to keep things less awkward.

Keyword: maybe.

He reached the dorm early, the streets still mostly quiet as the city slowly came to life. Swiping the keycard, he hesitated outside the door. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities already pressing down on him.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the dorm quietly. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the girls—he had trained with Winter back in the day and knew her well—but there was something about being their manager now that made him feel strangely out of place.

As he stepped into the living room, he froze. There, sitting on the couch in the dim morning light, was Karina, sipping on what looked like a cup of tea. Her gaze flickered up from her phone and locked onto him.

The air felt thick with unspoken tension, a remnant of their awkward exchange the previous day.

“Morning,” Y/n muttered, trying to sound casual, though his nerves betrayed him.

Karina raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. “You’re here early.”

“I, uh, wanted to make sure everything was ready for today,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. His voice sounded smaller than usual. He cursed himself for being so jittery.

She didn’t say anything for a few moments, just watched him with that same quiet, calculating expression. Then, without breaking eye contact, she took another sip of her drink.

“You seem stressed.”

Y/n let out a nervous laugh, trying to ease the tension. “Yeah, I guess managing a group isn’t exactly what I thought it would be.”

Karina raised an eyebrow. “What did you think it would be?”

Y/n hesitated. “I don’t know... less chaotic?”

Karina gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Well, welcome to the chaos.”

Y/n chuckled softly, though the tension still lingered between them. There was something about Karina’s demeanour that kept him on edge—like she was always assessing, always judging whether they were good enough to handle this job.

“I’m really trying, you know,” Y/n said, feeling the need to explain himself , to somehow prove they weren’t a complete failure. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

Karina’s gaze softened just a bit, but the edge in her voice remained. “It’s not about trying. It’s about being able to keep up. Mistakes happen, but if you can’t handle the pressure...”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but the implication was clear.

Y/n swallowed hard, nodding. “I can handle it.”

For a moment, Karina just stared at them, as if weighing their words. Then she sighed, standing up from the table and walking past Y/n toward the hallway. As she passed by, she paused, glancing back over her shoulder.

“We’ll see.”

Y/n was standing in the middle of the studio, phone in one hand, clipboard in the other, and a vague sense of impending doom swirling around their head. How does one organize a photoshoot without actually organizing anything? That seemed to be the question of the day.

He spent the last hour fumbling through their inbox, cross-referencing schedules, and making phone calls, only to realize one disastrous truth:

"Wait—no, the shoot's later, not now!"

He had accidentally mixed up aespa’s photoshoot schedule with another group’s. It wasn’t even a simple group—they’d mixed up with NCT’s schedule. The problem wasn’t just that the wrong studio had been booked, but that NCT and aespa were now both expected at two different places at the same time.

Fantastic.

“Okay, okay, we can fix this,” Y/n muttered to themselves, tapping frantically at their phone as if sheer determination could summon a miracle. “I’ll just... call the photographer. Yeah, and then—”

“Uh, you okay there?”

Y/n froze mid-sentence, slowly looking up to see Giselle and Ningning standing in front of them, both struggling to hide their laughter. Giselle had one eyebrow raised, clearly amused, while Ningning looked like she was a second away from bursting into giggles.

“You look... stressed,” Giselle teased, crossing her arms. “Something wrong with the schedule?”

Ningning grinned, leaning in. “You didn’t mix us up with the wrong group, did you?”

Y/n felt the colour drain from his face. “How the fck you know that?”

That was it. Ningning let out a snort of laughter, and Giselle wasn’t far behind, both of them cackling like hyenas. “Oh my God, you actually did it,” Ningning managed between fits of laughter. “You really mixed us up with NCT?”

Y/n groaned, running a hand through his hair in agony. “In my defence, it’s only my second day.”

“And you’re already creating chaos. Impressive.” Giselle nudged Ningning, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “We should keep you around just for the entertainment value.”

“Yeah, you’re doing a great job so far, Y/n,” Ningning added, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Maybe you should be in charge of our choreography next.”

“Please, no,” Y/n groaned, rubbing his temples. He shot them a mock glare but couldn’t help cracking a smile.

Before Y/n could make another attempt at fixing things, Karina appeared from behind them, arms crossed and an expression of mild disapproval on her face. “What’s going on here?”

Y/n’s heart dropped to his stomach. Of all the people to walk in right now, Karina was probably the worst one. She was the leader—the one who was supposed to have everything under control. And here Y/n was, doing the exact opposite.

“I, uh...” Y/n fumbled, waving the clipboard around like it would somehow explain the mess and eventually dropped the marker. “I accidentally mixed up our photoshoot schedule with NCT’s.”

Karina’s eyebrows shot up. “You what?!!!”

“He scheduled us for the wrong studio, unnie” Ningning added helpfully, still trying not to laugh. “So now we’re fighting NCT for a photoshoot. And not gonna lie, it will be funny to brawl with them”

Y/n wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

Karina sighed, shaking her head slowly. “Of course.”

“I’m fixing it!” Y/n quickly added, his voice higher-pitched than he intended.

But before Y/n could even finish that sentence, Karina was already pulling out her phone. With a few swipes and a quick call, she managed to smooth everything over, rescheduling the photoshoot without even breaking a sweat. Y/n watched in awe—and a little bit of fear—as she handled the situation with such ease.

“There,” Karina said after hanging up the phone. “Everything’s fixed. We’re going after NCT now.”

Y/n blinked, feeling about two inches tall. “Thanks, Karina... I’m sorry for messing that up.”

Karina glanced at him, her expression softening just a fraction. “It’s fine. Just make sure you’re more careful next time.”

Giselle nudged Ningning with her elbow, the two of them stifling their laughter as they exchanged amused glances. Winter, however, was full of worries. She knew Y/n promised to not hate the job too much, but she really didn't want his misfortune to continue further.

“Don’t worry, Y/n-oppa. You’ll get the hang of it,” Ningning said, still grinning. “It’s just... entertaining to watch.”

Y/n gave a weak smile, feeling the weight of their rookie mistake but also the strange comfort of the members not completely hating them. Yet.

Just as he thought things were finally settling down, a familiar voice rang out.

"Y/n?"

He turned to see Taeyong and the other NCT members walking into the photoshoot studio. His heart skipped a beat—these were the guys he had trained with back in the day, and seeing them again brought a rush of memories.

“Yo! What’s up, man? Long time no see,” Johnny greeted him with a broad smile, extending a fist.

Y/n grinned despite his current predicament. “Yo, I misplaced my group's booking with yours soo…"

“…yea sounds like your clumsy ass,” Mark chimed in. “Heard you’re aespa’s manager now. Nice upgrade from trainee life, huh?”

Y/n laughed nervously. “Uhh, you can say that.”

Karina’s gaze flickered toward them, clearly interested but staying quiet. Winter, however, who had been getting her makeup done nearby, walked over, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Y/n catching up with his old friends. Deep down, she was happy that only the intense training was the reason he first left.

“You’re still hanging out with these guys?” Winter teased, her voice playful. “Thought you’d have moved on by now.”

Y/n shot her a smirk. “Tsk. Like you, they loved my bougee ramen too much”

As the NCT members chuckled and shared a few jokes, Winter’s demeanour softened. For a brief moment, it felt like old times—back when they were all just trainees, with dreams as wide as the SM building was tall.

But then Y/n’s phone buzzed, and reality yanked him back. The photoshoot crew was ready for aespa, and his job wasn’t finished. “Alright, guys, duty calls,” he said, giving them a mock salute. “See you around.”

They parted ways with playful shoves and fist bumps, leaving Y/n to refocus on his chaotic first day.

Later that afternoon, the dance studio was buzzing with energy. Y/n stood off to the side, watching as the girls stretched and warmed up. Today’s dance practice has to go smoothly, Y/n thought to themselves. After the chaos of the photoshoot scheduling mix-up, Y/n was determined not to make any more dumb mistakes.

But, of course, things weren’t about to go that smoothly.

Instead of the polished beats of their comeback track, the speakers suddenly blared out an entirely different song—a song that definitely wasn’t theirs.

He expected the speaker to play "Drama", but all he heard was the chew chew chew chewing gum. Y/n froze, eyes wide, as the wrong track echoed through the room.

“Oh my God, Y/n!” Ningning exclaimed, covering her mouth to hide her laughter. “What is this?”

Giselle doubled over, clutching her stomach. “We're…doing Chewing Gum for today?”

Y/n’s face turned red. “I-I must’ve hit the wrong button.”

"Seriously, Y/n?" Ningning grinned, barely containing her laughter. "We thought you were supposed to be managing us, not confusing us more!"

Karina pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly trying to stay calm. “Just... switch it back, please.”

“Right, right,” Y/n stammered, frantically pressing buttons on the phone. But somehow, in his panic, he only managed to shuffle the playlist even more, causing another random song to blast through the speakers.

This time, it was "Celeb V".

The room erupted into laughter.

Ningning dropped to the floor, wheezing as she tried to catch her breath. Giselle had tears in her eyes from laughing so hard, and even Winter cracked a smile, shaking her head in disbelief. Eventually, the three just stood up and vibed to the song.

Y/n wanted to disappear. “I’m so sorry, guys” they mumbled, finally managing to get the correct song playing. “I don’t know what happened.”

Karina walked over, her expression stern but surprisingly calm. “It’s fine. Just... try to focus. Mistakes happen.”

Y/n blinked, taken aback by Karina’s patience. After the rough start that morning, they had expected a harsher response, but Karina’s calmness only made the guilt of messing up even heavier.

“Thanks, Karina,” Y/n said quietly, offering a sheepish smile.

Karina simply nodded before turning back to the group. “Alright, let’s go through the choreography one more time.”

As the girls resumed their practice, Y/n stood off to the side, watching as they danced in perfect sync. It’s going to take some time, Y/n thought. But he'll get there eventually.

Even if he had to fumble through a few more chaotic rehearsals along the way.

After a long, chaotic day, Y/n exhaled as he watched the girls file out of the van and back into their dorms. As much as he enjoyed hanging out with them, his brain needed a break. He pulled out his phone to check for any last-minute updates and realized the managers of the senior groups were still around at the company headquarters.

Without much hesitation, Y/n decided to head back. If anyone knew how to handle this circus, it was them.

As he walked into the company building, the usual late-night quietness settled over the place. He found a couple of veteran managers lingering in one of the lounges, sipping coffee and reviewing schedules. They looked up as he approached, some with raised eyebrows, others with knowing smirks.

“Rough day?” one of them, a manager for EXO, asked with a chuckle, gesturing for Y/n to join them.

“You could say that,” Y/n sighed, plopping down onto the couch. “I have no idea how you guys do this every day without losing your minds.”

The EXO manager laughed. “Oh, trust me, we’ve lost our minds plenty of times. But you get used to it. It’s all about finding a rhythm and sticking to it. Once you know how each artist operates, it gets easier.”

Y/n leaned back, rubbing his eyes. “Easier, huh? I had to navigate a photoshoot disaster, mix up their rehearsal schedules, and almost got them into the wrong studio, hyungnim”

Red Velvet's manager chimed in with a sympathetic smile. “Sounds like a typical day at SM. Everyone’s been there, trust me. It’s the rookie experience. First time I had to manage an event, I double-booked the studio with SHINee and Super Junior. Total chaos.”

Y/n was reminded of the incident today and couldn’t help but chuckle at the image of those two legendary groups being crammed into one rehearsal space. “What did you do?”

“Panicked. Very. Then one of the members kindly suggested I get my act together before they handle it themselves,” she laughed, shaking her head at the memory. “But you learn. The artists may give you a hard time, but they understand.”

Y/n nodded, though his mind was still swirling with anxiety about his performance. “Yeah, but… what if I keep messing up? I feel like every little mistake I make pushes me further away from the girls. Especially Karina. She’s… not to be mean but she scares me.”

The EXO manager raised an eyebrow. “Karina’s a natural leader. She has high standards for herself and her group. That can come across as intense, but she’s also fair. Show her you’re learning from your mistakes, and she’ll respect you for it.”

Y/n glanced down at his phone, which buzzed with notifications about tomorrow’s schedules. “Easier said than done.”

The Red Velvet manager leaned forward, her expression thoughtful. “You know, if you really want to bond with your artists, it helps to take the initiative. Show them that you care about their needs—not just professionally, but personally too. It doesn’t have to be big gestures, just small things that make their lives easier. Karina will notice that.”

Another manager chimed in, a senior staffer from SHINEE’s team. “Also, make sure to stay cool under pressure. If the girls see you panicking, they’ll lose confidence in you. Stay calm, even if everything’s falling apart. And trust me, it will.”

Y/n rubbed his temples, feeling both comforted and overwhelmed by their advice. “So, in summary, stay calm, don’t panic, fix my mistakes, and show I care. Got it.”

The EXO manager chuckled. “You’ll be fine. Give it a couple of weeks. You’ll mess up, sure, but you’ll also figure it out.”

Y/n gave them a tired smile. “Thanks, hyungnim and noonanim. I needed to hear that.”

As he stood to leave, the Girls’ Generation manager stopped him. “One last tip. If you’re still feeling lost, talk to Winter. She’s been there for a while now, and you guys have history, right? She can be a bridge between you and the others. And besides, she’s good at reading people. She’ll know how to help.”

Y/n nodded. “Minjeong, huh? Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

With a few more words of encouragement, Y/n left the lounge, feeling a bit lighter than before. As exhausted as he was, he couldn’t shake the determination settling in his chest. The day had been a disaster, sure, but it was also his first real taste of what it meant to be a manager.

He still had a long way to go, but at least he wasn’t alone in figuring it out. The advice from the senior managers echoed in his mind as he headed home for the night.

The next morning, Y/n found himself standing in front of the aespa's dorm once again. His mind replayed yesterday’s chaotic events, and though he still felt nervous, he also felt a newfound resolve. He wasn’t going to mess up today. Well, not as badly anyway.

As he knocked on the door, Winter answered, looking far too awake for this early hour.

"Yo" Y/n greeted. "The sleepyhead decided to wake up early for once"

He deserved that pillow to the face.

“Aish, this clumsy idiot,” she greeted, smirking as she eyed his serious expression. “You look like you’ve had some kind of epiphany overnight.”

Y/n shrugged, trying to play it cool as if that pillow didn't exist. “Maybe I did. Got any feedback and advice for me?”

Winter crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Depends. Are you ready to take it?”

Y/n chuckled. “I’m all ears.”

"Well first, make me brea-"

Now it was Winter's turn to eat that pillow. "You're welcome" He laughed while being unaffected by Winter's deathly glare.

"This guy I gotta- ok here's a serious tip."

"You sure?" Y/n raised an eyebrow. "I'll cook if it's a proper one."

“First, stop stressing so much. You’re going to mess up—accept it. We all do. It’s part of the job. But the more you freak out, the more you’ll mess up.”

“I already got that memo from the other managers,” Y/n muttered, following her inside.

Winter raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So, you’re getting advice from the pros now, huh?”

“Something like that.”

"Glad you're asking for help" Winter grinned.

She led him to the living room, where the rest of the girls were slowly waking up. Karina was perched on the couch, her eyes scanning her phone, while Ningning was curled up in a blanket, half-asleep. Giselle strolled in from the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee.

“So, ready for round three?” Winter asked, giving him a knowing look.

Y/n sighed, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Who the heck knows? Up to God now.”

Winter patted his back. “Yea, pray to me for good luck”

"This crybaby I gotta-"

Later that day, as the group gathered for another round of rehearsals, Y/n found himself in familiar territory: chaos. But this time, instead of panicking, he focused on staying calm.

“Alright, break’s over!” Y/n called, glancing down at the schedule. “Let’s get back to practice.”

Giselle grinned as she walked past him. “Wow, Y/n’s actually holding it together today.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Ningning added with a giggle. "It will happen in 3, 2, 1…"

Y/n smirked, rolling his eyes at their teasing. But unlike yesterday, their jokes didn’t sting. He knew they were just messing with him.

"Ha, not this time, you two-"

..and Y/n tripped on thin air and landed on his butt.

While the other three were laughing their ass off, Karina approached him during a brief lull in practice, not forgetting to help him stand up. “You’re doing better today,” she observed, her tone neutral but not unkind.

“Thanks. I’ve been getting some good advice,” Y/n replied, glancing at Winter, who was chatting with Giselle on the other side of the room.

Karina’s gaze followed his, and for a moment, her expression softened. “You’re learning. That’s what matters.”

Y/n nodded, feeling a bit of the tension between them ease. “I’ll try not to mess up again.”

Karina gave him a small, rare smile. “Good luck with that.”

By the end of the day, Y/n had survived another round of managing aespa—barely. After dropping the girls off at their dorms, he sat in the driver’s seat of the van, exhaling deeply. His mind wandered back to the advice he’d received last night.

Sure, he was still a mess of nerves and insecurities, but slowly, bit by bit, he was getting the hang of it. The girls were teasing him less (well, sort of), and even Karina wasn’t as icy as before.

Before heading home, Y/n made one last stop at the company building, not forgetting to buy some donuts as thank you gifts. He sought out the senior managers again, this time more eager to learn than before.

The EXO manager spotted him and grinned. “Back already? Didn’t quit after day two, huh?”

Y/n laughed, shaking his head. “Nope. Just looking for more tips and tricks. Figured I could use all the help I can get. And also thanks for the tip, hyungnim and noonanim. They were really helpful.”

The veteran managers chuckled and waved him over. “Alright, rookie, let’s talk.”

As they began sharing more advice, Y/n felt a sense of relief. He wasn’t perfect, far from it—but he was learning. And for now, that was enough.

#aespa ningning #aespa giselle #aespa winter #aespa karina #aespa x reader #aespa #kpop #karina #giselle #ningning #kim minjeong #ning yizhuo #yoo jimin #aeri uchinaga #x reader #aespa x male reader #aespa x you

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hp-hcs · 1 year ago

Note

I just had a Crazy thought. Idk if I’ve EVER read a Ton Riddle x ftm Reader before and now I’m CURIOUS. Pls （＾ν＾）

yk, i dont think i’ve ever seen one either 🤨 which is some BULLSHIT if you ask me

ANYWAYS i have no idea what this is but yk i actually finished something so that’s pretty girlypop. also GODDAMNIT i need more tom using 40s slang

phoenix tears (chapter three of phoenix tears) — 40s! tom riddle x ftm! dumbass! granger! reader

he’s babygirl i don’t make the rules

problem solving by creating more problems, a case study by harry potter and y/n fr

glad to see all of the ftms have found my acc, i love all of y’all mwah

TWs: ‘40s era homophobia; couple of outdated homophobic slurs; i guess tom misgendering reader? but he like, doesn’t even know what being trans is so-

requests? please? i beg??

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“What’s this?” You pulled a wrinkled old book out of Harry’s trunk, sitting down on the wood floor of his dorm, crisscross applesauce.

The cover must’ve once been very fine leather, but it was now warped with water damage and age. The pages were brittle and seemed liable to disintegrate at the lightest touch. But the most prominent part of the book was that there was a charred black hole right through the center.

“Huh? Oh- Tom Riddle’s diary. His very first horcrux,” Harry glanced up at you from where he was also sat on the floor, desperately trying to organize all of the shit that was in his trunk to begin with.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Nope, not in the slightest.”

You opened the cover, the leather creaking and cracking under the slightest pressure. You were surprised to find that the diary was completely blank inside. You flipped through a few more pages; nothing. It was totally empty.

Unless Tom Riddle had only written in the center of where the odd, charred hole was. Which was, y’know, pretty unlikely.

“How’d you destroy it?”

Harry frowned to himself, trying to decide if Runes homework from two years ago should go in the keep or throw away pile. “Basilisk fang. Has Ginny seriously never told you?”

You shook your head, eyes wide. He grinned at you, handing you a stack of various important-looking documents mixed in with past homework assignments to go through, and immediately dove into his story of shallow teachers and secret chambers and blood on the walls.

You gaped at him in awe as he finished his story. “But wait- if Fawkes’ tears were all you needed to like…heal and not die, would the same work on the diary?”

Harry paused, looking up at you. “That’s…a good question.”

“Think we should try?” You asked. “Maybe Teenager Tom could talk some sense into Adult Tom?”

Harry seemed to genuinely consider it before shaking his head. “Ach, but Hermione would kill us.”

Your shoulders dropped and you frowned as you think about your sister. “But…she’s at the Burrow tonight, remember?”

“Well,” Harry said slowly, still on the fence. “If Hermione’s not around to scold us...”

~~~ “This was a terrible idea this was such a terrible fucking idea-”

The diary smoked and hissed, writhing around on the floor. The book flapped open, the pages ruffling around and fizzing.

Scrambling backwards, you clung onto Harry, praying Slughorn wouldn’t walk in. Or worse, Filch.

You’d snuck into the Potions classroom after curfew, hidden under Harry’s invisibility cloak, with the intent of finding phoenix tears. After going through Slughorn’s potion cabinet, you'd found the vial all the way in the back. Which, of course, had led to you two deciding to test your theory about the diary right then and there.

The diary suddenly made a pop noise, like someone cracking bubblegum. It then stilled all of its movement, lying open at the center of the book, when a dark liquid, ink, began seeping out from it. The ink pooled around the book, turning all of the pages black and heavy.

You mentally cursed the stain it would leave on the flagstones.

The diary then erupted with a bright light, rattling against the floor with the exertion of whatever magic it was using.

Harry pushed you back behind him, forcing you to sit down and throwing his invisibility cloak over you, then pulling out his wand. Taking an offensive stance in front of where you were hidden, he waited, every muscle in his body coiled like an animal waiting to lunge.

The light seemed to grow thicker, like honey, and started taking a corporeal form. Then just like that, the light vanished, and the form—a person, by the looks of it—crumpled on the floor in a rather undignified heap.

The person staggered to its- his feet.

Tom Riddle, you thought, holding your breath.

God, he was pretty.

He started laughing, seemingly unaware of neither you nor Harry’s existence. “O Lord and butter, now we’re cooking with gas!”

You blinked. All of that was English, but not a single word of it made sense.

How old was Tom Riddle?

Harry took a tentative step forward, hiding his wand behind his back. “Are…you alright?”

Tom whirled around, startled by the sudden voice. He looked Harry up and down appraisingly before a wild grin spread across his face. “All reet? A schnook done brought me back!” He laughed rather maniacally, eyes gleaming. “What’s your name then? I oughtta thank you.”

Harry’s lips thinned. “We’ve met before, Tom.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised. “We…have?”

Wordlessly, Harry pushed up his fringe.

Tom drew in a sharp breath. “Potter.”

“Riddle.”

“So what, you’ve brought me back to kill me again?” He sneered. “There’s no basilisk around to save you this time, Potter.”

When Tom took a step towards Harry, you gasped quietly—evidently not quietly enough though, because Tom’s head swung around towards you.

He stared straight at you. You held your breath again, praying that he’d go back to threatening Harry, or something.

Instead Tom stepped closer to you, mumbling a quiet Revelio. He smiled and leaned down, tugging the cloak off of your head.

“Well well well, what’s this? A spook?” He pulled the cloak off of you completely, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Hm. Well aren’t you a bit of a scrag, cookie?”

“I’m…sorry…?” You questioned, baffled. “I don’t speak old.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a bit plain and homely, doll,” he said with a mock-apologetic look on his face. “In the nicest way possible.”

“Aw, shucks,” you said dryly. “I was worried the genocidal maniac who’s killed a bunch of our friends might think I’m unattractive.”

He raised an eyebrow at your sarcasm, looking you up and down again. “Ah. Or are you a swish?” He asked, tilting his head. “Can’t quite tell.”

“A swish?”

“You know, a queer. One of those.”

You cringed. “Harry, make him go back in the fucking diary.”

“Did I hit a nerve, doll?” Tom asked with a smug smile.

“Not really, but I have a feeling that if I have to deal with your ancient ass any longer, you will.”

“Ooh, well ain’t you got moxie, little thing? Tell me, you a dame or a fella?”

“Ah yes, the two genders,” you mumbled under your breath, causing Harry to snort and cover his mouth with his hand. “I’m a uh…‘fella’.”

“You sure look like a gal to me.”

“Yeah, and you sure look like an asshole to me.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I see. You’re a mudblood, aren’t you?”

“Lot of sass coming from Mr. Pureblood over here.”

Tom took a striding step towards you, his teeth gritted and his fist raised.

“Wow, resorting to Muggle fighting? Wouldn’t expect that from you, Thomas Marvolo.”

His cheeks flared red with anger. “I oughtta-”

“It really sucks being made fun of for your blood status, doesn’t it?” You asked casually.

Tom paused.

He took a step back.

“All reet. I’ll admit, you got me there.”

Harry scowled. “Look, we wouldn’t have brought you back unless we had good reason. And Old You is now indiscriminately killing Muggles, which seems like a pretty fucking good reason, if you ask me.”

“Ah. Yes. That does seem to be an issue,” Tom acquiesced. “But why me?”

“We figured you could reason with Old You?” You jumped in. “Or at the very least, you’re the least corrupted; you have the most soul left.”

Tom shrewdly glanced between you and Harry, then back at you. “What do I get in return?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. What do you want?”

“Not to go back into that damned diary,” he said vehemently. “Never again.”

You glanced over at Harry. He shrugged. “We can try…?”

“Hipper dipper,” Tom replied dryly. “Where do we start?”

~~~

“Well that’s a barney old game the old coot’s been making you play, huh?”

“You’re just saying words,” Harry mumbled, resting his chin on his hand as you all sat at one of the Potions classroom tables. “Not a single part of that was comprehensible.”

“He basically just said that you’re fucked,” you shrugged. “You’ve been doomed to die since you were born. Dumbledore’s been raising you like a lamb for slaughter.”

Tom looked at you, surprised. “Well…yes.”

You rolled your eyes. “Smarter than I look, Thomas.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll stop as soon as you you stop calling me a fairy.”

He furrowed his brow. “Why’s that bother you so much?”

“It’s a fucking slur, Thomas. This ain’t the forties, or whenever you’re from; people are allowed to be gay now.”

Tom froze, eyes wide. “W-what?”

“Yup.”

“Well, cut off my leg and call me shorty,” he murmured, amazed.

“Wait’ll he finds out you’re trans,” Harry mumbled, snorting.

You elbowed him in the side, rolling your eyes.

“Trans…?” Tom questioned.

“We don’t have that much time, Thomas. Focus up.”

“Natch, all reet,” he shook his head. “Are we ready then? Plan all set?”

You nodded, a sly grin spreading across your face.

“Let’s go fuck some shit up.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

chapter four

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #hp x male reader #x male reader #gay #x reader #tom riddle x male reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #transgender #trans reader #trans

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woozvc · 1 year ago

Text

call you tonight

the student council :

seungcheol - svtct captain #1. constantly in the top 2 positions in class. whenever someone asks him how he studies he says he doesn't (he stays up all night)

y/n - svtct captain #2. jeonghans cousin but no one knows as they decided to keep it a secret. constantly in the top 2 along with seungcheol. prioritizes studies over everything and still somehow has friends.

hoshi - svtct dance captain. spends 90℅ of his time in the dance room with the excuse "we have a competition coming up" (there is no competition coming up)

wonwoo - svtct literacy head. spends most of his time in the library. surprisingly good at sports

jihoon - svtct music head. goes by his producer name woozi too. good at basically everything but won't participate in anything

mingyu - svtct sports captain. school's heartthrob yet he's single. seems narcissistic but is a really big softie

seungkwan - svtct cultural head. organizes most events and if you're wondering if seungkwan knows someone, he knows

other profiles :

svtct updates acc - run by seungkwan and dino. was initially supposed to be for serious updates but now it's become a gossip account.

jeonghan - y/ns cousin but no one knows as they decided to keep it a secret. does modeling part time. lowkey a menace to everyone but they love him

joshua - would've been cultural head but he had too many absences. would do anything for a dollar

jun - wants to own a cafe when he graduates. is good at studies but doesn't try enough

mingao - fashion kid on the block. has a fashion blog by the name the8

seokmin - ur own loud speaker. everyone and their mother is friends with him

hansol - the quiet kid in your class that u just kinda admire from afar. is clueless to his fan following in his school for his looks.

chan - joined this year and is new to the group. he's mostly unaware of things but runs the updates acc because he LOVES gossip

#seventeen fluff #seventeen #seventeen smau #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt scoups #scoups smau #scoups #choi seungcheol imagines #seventeen series #choi seungcheol #seventeen scoups #seventeen seungcheol #scoups imagines #seungcheol fluff #—call you tonight 📞

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wake-me-up-inside-imagines · 16 days ago

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I love those requests where Charlie is preparing and caring for his beloved when they are pregnant🥹. Im actually wondering how would he be as a father though, I feel like he'd be so overprotective of his baby not letting anyone touch them (except for reader ofc). And he would spoil his baby even though they are barely 1 month old. I also wanna see some baby and daddy bonding time😼Overall I live for charlie domesticity 😋🙏

Oh absolutely, Charlie LOVES his baby and would do practically anything for them. This’ll be fun to write!

Mafia Boss Charlie With His S/O And Baby

Technically GN! Reader, reader is assumed afab because of the previous baby stories but I tried to keep it gender neutral

Warnings: Charlie’s semi-normal in this one (as normal as a mafia boss can be) so I’m not tagging Yandere, mentions of violence, mentions of murder, mentions of death, mentions of child injury (nothing happens to baby don’t worry), overall anxiety, other than that it’s mostly domestic fluff

Also Charlie’s a girl dad in this because I say so.

Divider credit goes to @konatasoup

When you were pregnant with your baby, Charlie was absolutely terrified of becoming a father. Not because he didn’t want the baby, but because his childhood consisted of a whole lot of violence, brutal training, and what his father liked to call “tough love.” It was all in the name of preparing him for his future role as heir to their organization, but…it wasn’t pleasant. Charlie’s whole childhood was robbed from him, his innocence, his joy, and the thought of potentially doing that to his daughter scares him more than he’d like to admit. He loves her dearly and wants to shield her from the terrors of his daily life, but how can he do that when he never had a good example? What if he ends up just like his father? What if he hurts his daughter when he’s just trying to do the right thing? What if-

Charlie makes a promise to himself, one he asks you to keep him accountable for: No matter what, he’ll love and protect his baby with all the gentleness and affection he never got growing up. He swears his organizations name on it.

You know you don’t have to worry about him breaking his oath though, not only because he treats you so well, but because the second you bring your daughter home, Charlie’s doting on her like nothing else in the world matters except for her (and you).

Charlie is so, so gentle with your daughter. He can’t imagine being anything else. He’s a violent man by nurture, his job demands it of him, but all traces of who he has to be melt away when he’s anywhere near his kid, leaving a sensitive, loving mess of a man behind.

A part of him is absolutely terrified of hurting your kid, so he makes sure he’s always careful and intentional with every movement he makes around her. He holds her like she’ll break if he even slightly shifts his arms, rocking her as tenderly as humanly possible while cooing down at her softly. If you’ll allow him to bottle feed her, he’ll make sure to hold the bottle in the safest way he knows how, lest he somehow hurt her while she’s feeding (he genuinely gets scared he’s hurting her if she begins to aggressively eat because he thinks he’s choking her or something).

Still, despite his fears, he wants to do everything with her. Due to the circumstances of his job, he doesn’t usually get much time off for paternity leave, so he makes up for it by spending every waking moment he’s home with her and you. Watching movies, taking care of your daughter, snuggling together, whatever he can do to spend quality time with his family, he’ll do gladly. He’ll even take the two of you out for family dates if he deems it safe enough (and if you’re up to it, of course). This is his first time having a family, a real, semi-normal family, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make the most of it while he can.

He also loves to show his daughter affection by giving her gifts. The most eye catching toys, the most comfortable clothes, the cutest little accessories… whatever Charlie can get his hands on for his little one, he’ll bring home. She’s not at an age where she can really appreciate or ask for anything, but Charlie doesn’t care. The act alone of spoiling his daughter is enough to make Charlie’s heart swell, especially when he sees her exploring the different items he got with a curious look on her face. With the amount of money he makes, he feels like it’s the least he could do to shower his baby in gifts.

When it comes to others holding your daughter, he’s…not happy. He tries to tolerate family holding her for your sake since he knows that you want them to be in the baby’s life, but…he still hates it. He’ll stand by whoever is holding her with attentive, hard eyes, and if he gets even the slightest impression that his daughter wants free or is unhappy with being held, he’s snatching her back up and not letting go for the rest of the day. He’ll only comfortably let you hold the baby, anyone else is on very thin ice. Dont even think about letting anyone you don’t know well hold the baby, because Charlie will snatch her back before they even get a chance to properly hold her.

Since Charlie is still working and out for a lot of the day, you’re still the primary caretaker of the baby. Because of that, Charlie insists you rest as soon as you get home, allowing him to spend some one-on-one time with his daughter as he takes care of her. He loves hanging out with you and the baby at the same time, but he also enjoys having time to bond with his baby, just the two of them.

In the name of fairness, Charlie and you take shifts at night, when the baby wakes you two up with her crying. The way he sees it, you’re both working full time with different jobs, so it’s only fair that you take turns waking up for her instead of pushing on to one parent. He would have been happy to take care of it all himself, but he knows that focus is critical for his job, and focus is impossible with no sleep.

Oh, and don’t think Charlie’s forgotten about you. As much as he loves showing his daughter affection, he’s gonna make sure you know how loved you are and how much he still adores you. Just as he spoils your daughter, he makes sure everything you could ever want is in your reach, and he’ll do it all while reminding you how beautiful you are, how amazing it is to be a parent alongside you.

Overall, Charlie’s a really good dad. The way he takes care of his daughter will shift and fluctuate as she grows up, but no matter what happens, he’ll always make sure she knows how loved she is.

Little blurb because I thought the prompt was super cute:

“-Aaaaaaah!”

“Hmm,” Charlie groaned, blond strands of hair falling over his face as he raised his head, blearily blinking away the sleep in his eyes. Waking up to wailing had become the new norm ever since his daughter had been born, but the volume of her voice still never failed to surprise him, even now, at the two month mark. “Mm coming, mm coming.”

“Sounds like her hungry cry,” you yawned from behind Charlie, your voice dripping with tiredness. He could feel you shift behind him, your warmth leaving his clothed back. “I’ll go feed her.”

“Absolutely not,” Charlie sat up, throwing the blankets constricting his legs to the side before getting out of the bed. He let out a small grunt as his back popped underneath his skin, stretching away the aches that had settled in his bones. “You had the last shift. It’s my turn now. Besides, we have bottles in the fridge, I’ll use one of those.”

“But you have work in the morning, it’s not fair-“

“No, it is fair.” Charlie turned around to look at you, a small smile creeping across his face. He was tired, and he did have work in the morning, but he wasn’t about to miss out on spending time with his daughter, especially when he’d probably be out all day the next day. Besides, you looked tired, sleep still embedded in your eyes, and he’d be damned if he made you stay up any later than you needed to. “We agreed on shifts, remember? You deserve sleep too.”

As he spoke, Charlie leaned over, watching your lips part in protest before tenderly pressing them against his own. You looked beautiful like this, half-asleep and wrapped up in fluffy blankets, hair tousled every which way. He wished he could stare at you forever, wrapping you up in his protective arms.

Another wail sounded out, and Charlie hesitantly pulled away, giving you one last peck on the head. “I’ll take care of this. Go sleep, I’ll come back when I’m done.”

“…Fine.” You flop back down on the bed, head hitting the pillow as you gaze up at Charlie. Despite your annoyance, there’s a layer of gratefulness shining in your eyes, filling Charlie’s heart with a warmth no fire could give him. “But I get the next shift. If she wakes up again, I’ll deal with it.”

Charlie smiled, standing up off the bed. “Deal.”

Without wasting another second, Charlie padded to the bedroom door, slipping through the crack and setting his sights on the nursery. It wasn’t that far from your shared bedroom, just down the hall in fact, but with how loud your daughter cried, she might as well have been on a different floor.

Another sharp cry, this one louder than the others.

“I’m coming baby, I’m coming.” Charlie stepped into the nursery, making his way next to the crib where his daughter lay. Her face was crinkled up, tears shining in her eyes as her tiny hands flapped and pulled incessantly at the striped onesie she was wearing. Little cries of hunger spilled from her lips like a mantra, but they quickly quieted as Charlie got closer and closer to the crib’s edge.

“It’s ok baby girl, I’ve got you.” Strong hands reached into the crib, effortlessly lifting the baby from where she was resting. Equally strong arms held her to Charlie’s chest, propping her head up so that she could look directly into his affectionate gaze. “You’re ok, you don’t need to cry anymore. You hungry? Is that what you need? You want some food?”

The baby made another annoyed grunt, her hand going out to tug on a strand of Charlie’s long hair.

Charlie’s soft smile turned into a small grimace as he turned towards the door, pulling his baby away from his body as he walked in a desperate attempt to free the taunt strands of hair. “Ok, ok, I get it, you want food and you want it now. But I gotta fix your bottle first, so give me a second will ya?”

That seemed to satisfy the baby, because she released Charlie’s hair, letting out another string of unintelligible babbles as they descended the stairs, her body bouncing softly with each step.

“You recognize this place?” Charlie hit the bottom stare, shifting his daughter in his arms until she was able to stare at the rapidly approaching kitchen walls, the fridge right in her line of view. “Do you know where we are?”

As always, there was no real verbal response, just babbles and whines for food as the baby shifted in his arms.

Despite how careful he was trying to be, Charlie couldn’t help but look down at his daughter as he walked, smiling softly as she reached towards something he couldn’t see. “Hey, don’t wiggle around too much, ok? You’re gonna fall out of my arms, and then what are you gonna do, huh? You gonna crawl and get the bottle yourself?”

The baby didn’t acknowledge Charlie’s teasing, only squirming more as the refrigerator door came closer to her tiny, outstretched hands. Almost like she knew her food was within reach.

Before she could grab at anything, Charlie shifted the baby until he was carrying her with one arm, her fragile head looking over his shoulder. “Ok, ignore me, I get it. I understand. Papa’s too mean to you, isn’t he? He took a whole minute to get down to the kitchen, didn’t he?”

A small snort escaped Charlie’s mouth as he opened the fridge door, shifting his still-wiggling daughter over his shoulder. “You’d think I’m starving you with how slow I am. S/O would have been much quicker, wouldn’t they?”

It was a little difficult for Charlie to get the refrigerated milk into a bottle and heated with one hand, but he managed to get it done after a couple of minutes, his daughter protesting the long wait during every second. As soon as the bottle was ready to be used, Charlie snatched it up and walked over to the nearby couch, clutching the milk in one hand and his baby in the other.

“You’re too small to be putting up this much of a fight,”Charlie sighed, flopped down onto the rather comfy cushions of his couch. He shielded his baby’s head from the fall, bringing the bottle up to her lips as soon as they both settled comfortably into their new resting place. “You’re gonna turn out just like me, you know that?”

The baby’s hands grabbed eagerly at the bottle, and in no time at all was eating vigorously, her eyes trained solely on the milk as it disappeared from the bottle.

“Easy baby, you’re gonna make yourself sick if you keep eating so fast.” Charlie chuckled, propping his daughter’s head up enough for him to feel like she would be comfortable. He held the bottle steadily, watching with all the affection in the world as his daughter drank, intently focused on the bottle in front of her. “What’s S/O gonna say if I come back to our room with vomit all over my clothes?”

The baby made a small, content sigh, and then she went right back to eating, ignoring Charlie altogether.

Charlie let out a breath before leaning back again, careful to keep his daughter in a comfortable hold. He loved moments like these, when he and his daughter could just exist together, peacefully snuggling away the problems of the outside world. Moments where he could look at her new, innocent face, completely oblivious and untainted by the horrors of the outside world, and for once in his life believe that life might be more than just the violence he had dealt with for so long. His daughter was a new light in the world, a beacon of hope and love to all that could look at her-

…

…Love and hope. Right. The same light that Charlie had snuffed out of him, years ago.

Love and hope didn’t mix well with the mafia.

Charlie looked down at his daughter (who still entirely encapsulated by her food), and frowned. She was a beacon of all things beautiful for now, but what would happen when the realities of life kicked in? What would happen when she got a little bit older, old enough to become aware of Charlie’s profession? Would she let it harden her, like Charlie’s had done when he was little more than her age? Would she become one of them, dealing in the parts of humanity Charlie didn’t want her to see?

What would happen if someone got wind of the big bad boss having a tiny infant daughter at home, one of the only things in this world that he could possibly care about losing?

Charlie grimaced and tried to shake the thought away, but it was no use. It’s not like it was the first time he had such thoughts, they’d plagued him since the moment he found out you were pregnant, but…

It was worse when he was actually holding his daughter, holding her with hands that had been caked in blood more times than he could count. Holding her with hands that had inflicted so much pain, so much suffering, so much anger.

He was the opposite of his daughter. She was the light of his life, while he was the darkness that sought to snuff out such light. And with darkness came more darkness, swallowing up everything in its path-

A loud grumble startled Charlie out of his thoughts. His daughter was done eating and was trying to shove the bottle away whining when Charlie’s steady hand wouldn’t let it budge.

“Crap, sorry moonbug.” The bottle was quickly placed aside, Charlie maneuvering his daughter until she was lying in his arms, head and body comfortably resting against his chest. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I was just…thinking.”

Charlie’s hand went up to hold his daughter’s head, his arms gentle as they swaddled the baby in a protective hug. Whatever violence waited outside, whatever darkness was lurking, plotting to take his baby away from him, Charlie wouldn’t fold. He’d keep his baby right there, safe in his arms. He wouldn’t think about his enemies getting their hands on her, he wouldn’t think about her pained screams, he wouldn’t think about what her body would look like-

Charlie’s eyes hardened. No, no, he wouldn’t think about any of that. Because she was safe, and she was with him. As long as he lived, he would never let anything happen to her. He’d rip anyone who tried to shreds. He could see them now, bodies strewn about, limbs ripped from their sockets, blood seeping from their wounds-

A small yawn sounded right under Charlie’s chin, a wave of guilt crashing over him as he nestled his sleepy daughter closer. How could he? How could he think such violent thoughts while his daughter was with him, oblivious to anything of the sort? How could he waste such precious time with the light of his life thinking about such sickening scenes, imagining them in detail so vivid he could nearly feel it? How could he?

“…No. You’re not gonna turn out like me.”

Tears welled up in Charlie’s eyes at he brought his lips to the top of his daughter’s head, but he didn’t care. He was tough, but he was still a man. He could still feel, still love, still cry, and as long as he could do that, he’d be able to keep his daughter safe in every possible way. He had to, for her sake, your sake, and his.

“I’m gonna give you the world,” Charlie murmured, stroking his baby’s head and back softly. “I’m gonna give you every river and valley and road this earth has to offer. But this one alleyway…you can’t take it. I won’t let you. That’s not your future, I won’t let it be. You’re not gonna turn into me, not as long as I have breath in my lungs.”

There was a moment of silence, nothing but breathing to be heard. Then the baby looked up at Charlie, uttered a small string of unintelligible babbles, and grabbed his nose.

“I’ll take that as an acknowledgment,” Charlie snorted, giving his baby another kiss on the head. “Do we have a deal?”

“Does who have a deal?”

The baby’s grasp on Charlie’s nose was too strong for him to break, but your voice was unmistakable to him, your presence growing closer by the second. “S/O? I told you to go back to sleep, how long have you been up?”

A small thud sounded out, and then you were beside him, kneeling next to the couch. “I couldn’t fall asleep again, so I figured I’d come see how you two are getting along. She wasn’t too fussy, was she?”

You stick out a finger, and the baby grabs onto it, releasing Charlie’s nose in the process.

“A little, but nothing I can’t handle.” Charlie sits up, swinging his legs back onto the ground below. “Here, come sit. I don’t what your knees to hurt in the morning.”

You obliged, Charlie watching your every move as you get up and flop down next to him, picking up the discarded bottle with a smile on your face. “She was hungry, wasn’t she?”

“Very,” Charlie chuckled, shifting the baby until she was facing you, her head still leaning on his chest. “She got antsy as soon as the fridge was in sight. She’s calmed down now though, I think she’s starting to get tired again.”

“Well, babies do sleep a lot,” you wiggle your still-trapped finger, the baby laughing happily as you move her hand around and around. “Although, you two seemed to be having a conversation when I came down. What were you two talking about?”

A light hum escaped Charlie’s lips, his head leaning over to rest on yours. A brief vision of blood flashed through his head, but he pushed it away. No, it was none of your concern. You didn’t need to be burdened by the same worries he was. “Nothing much. I just made her promise to make us proud.”

You snort, leaning further into Charlie. “I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue. Shes already making us proud, isn’t she?”

Charlie let out another small hum as you yawn from beside him, curling up into his body. “She is. Let’s…let’s spend the night here, yeah? Just the three of us. How does that sound?”

The baby let out a small grunt, and you smile, your eyes already closed. “I’d like that, but won’t you get tired? You have work in the morning, remember?”

“I don’t mind. Im not all that tired. Besides, I like spending time with you. And with her, of course.”

Charlie bounced the baby up a little for emphasis, both of you letting out a little chuckle as she gave out a joyful screech. “Ok, but if you get tired, wake me. I’ll take over from there, all right?”

“All right.”

With that, Charlie felt you relax against him, your finger still trapped in the baby’s hold. A few seconds later and you were snoring away, eyes shut blissfully as you slept beside your husband and daughter.

Charlie leaned back, letting out a content sigh as his arms tightened around his daughter. This was why life was living. This was why he had endured so much pain, so much cruelty. It was all worth it to be able to protect his spouse and daughter, to give them the life they deserved to live. All for you, and All for her.

Living was suffering, Charlie knew that well. But living was also for moments like these, where he could wrap the two of you up in his arms and hold you as close as physically possible. Moments where he could watch his daughter life, where he could watch you smile, and where he could finally feel the love and joy he had been starved of for so many years.

Charlie turned his head and kissed you on the forehead. He could worry all he wanted later, when it was him against the dangers of the world. For now he would enjoy the peace and quiet he could get with the two of you as long as he possibly could.

Charlie closed his eyes, pressed his head against yours, and smiled.

I hope you enjoyed! The ending of the blurb felt a little dumb to me, so let me know if it turned out alright!

#x reader #my ocs #ocs #my writing #oc x reader #charlie x reader #charlie craven x reader #charlie craven #mafia boss x reader #mafia au #mafia romance #baby fever #tw violence #romance #romantic

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mayoiayasep · 3 months ago

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pass2 ramble ab/share your headcanons ab your favs 🙏🙏⁉️⁉️⁉️

you have unleashed the visty paralive demons >:). cracks knuckles. this is long as hell so under a readmore it goes!!

shogo:

with the little amount of sleep + insomnia this guy has his ass should def be close to if not already having a caffeine addiction. however i think he eats enough sugar regularly for it to balance out

adding on to that this guy cannot drink black coffee. idc if canon says anything different. he wont drink it unless its almost just milk

a journal hoarder. i do think he actually uses all of them eventually but he always has like. 2 empty ones somehow.

had one of those 3 am cut + dye your hair breakdowns as a teenager. it was when he was 15 and literally the night before he retired from the film industry bc his hair looked like his dad's at the time and he was one interview away from snapping on camera

touma

yknow those tiktoks where its someone with a 35+ step facial care/night routine. yea thats touma

she's transfem also. to me. for silly reasons its bc theres no women inthis goddamn franchise and touma's my highest fave who isnt already trans/transcoded

for serious reasons i do think that it could connect to what we have revealed of her trauma

stocks up and has a stash of cosmetic store coupons that she spends all at once after exam season

her hair is sooooo soft despite the fact its been bleached to hell and back. touma tell me ur secrets please

kantarou

i've said this before but has enough phone + backpack charms to use that shit like a warhammer

has a tumblr acc argue w the wall. kenta has one too to me and i just knwo the two would be in each others dnis

is barely in touch w his parents bc of their work. however he tries to keep in touch w his grandma consistently even after moving in the the visty living situation (he gets her free tickets to shows!)

was super homesick after he first joined visty and had to move in together like it was bad

not a hc but i am obsessed with how he lies about his least favorite foods. "[dislikes] Tapioca (he hates the way it looks), but if you ask him, he'll say it's green peppers" there's something so wrong w him

aoi:

if they were to ever play bandori they would attach themself to kaoru seta like a duckling to its mother. kin assignment style even

surprisingly good at carnival/crane games!

aroacespec. to me. yes i know their whole schtick is how they want to be a prince and the inherent romance that comes w that however. they are my favorite and hence get my arospec isms. i like to think that despite not actually being attracted to anybody, acting out that prince role still gives them that gender euphoria

also canonically a journaler but is more organized about it than shogo

was briefly living w their aunt before joining visty due to their relationship w their parents getting strained

groups hcs time

everytime visty has a movie night aoi/kantarou/touma like. thoroughly checks the cast list + directing credits bc early in the tradition there was a yamatodad feature jumpscare and then shogo spent the next 2 hours in the bathroom

they have matching friendship bracelets! kei had one too so when he left they had to remake them so there would be that constant reminder (they all still keep the old ones somewhere tho. even kei)

shogo and aoi watch cooking/baking shows together and try to replicate their favorite recipes

i am a kantaaoi besties no 1 supporter. like ive said this in another post but i don’t think they had anyone their age that they were super close to before each other

they do hair dye touchup livestreams

#the solo hcs ended up being long too oop....welll whatever ive yapped for longer in the prri tag #inbox mail #pastellmochi #sal 🍡#paradox live #paralive #visty posting #visty #shogo yamato #touma hikage #kantarou misuji #aoi kureha

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professionally-petty · 1 month ago

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[Recording Log: Assistant Peter | GRN-YLW Operations | Timestamp: Classified]

Alright, listen up, because I’m only saying this once.

The name's Peter. Not 'Pete,' not 'Petey,' and God forbid, never just 'Assistant.'

Anyways Im the Assistant to GRN-YLW Operations, professional handler of chaos, and...let’s be honest...the only person in this building who knows how to use a damn stapler correctly...

My job? Everything. Logistics, schedules, managing egos, and ensuring this team doesn’t accidentally blow itself up before lunch. Frankly, I deserve a medal for putting up with this bullshit of incompetence. But do I get one? No. Instead, I get last-minute emergencies and a pile of paperwork that could rival Mount Everest.

Why do I do it? Because if I didn’t, this place would collapse faster than a Scout’s patience in a losing game... And if you think I’m exaggerating, try spending five minutes here without me. I dare you...

Anyway, if nothing’s actively on fire, I’m ending this recording. I have better things to do—like fixing all of your mistakes. Goodbye.

Heres some things to keep yourselves organized such as myself

Tags:

📞#hello? its peter - answering questions

📞#someone is calling - interacting

📞#I got a job for you - asking questions

📞#journal entry - random peter bs

📞#(I AM SO SORRY QMQ) - mod apologizing for peter aka peter being a fucking bitch compilation

PSSSSSTTTT OI OI OI (baka-) MOD STUFF DOWN HERE!!!

Mod is a minor! so pls dont do anything weird! Like super weird asks and stuff. but rizz up the asshole all ya want ig?

You know the usual DNI; if ur homophobic, racist, transphobic, bigoted zoo/pedophile stuff ect ect JUST DON'T EVEN BOTHER-

any acc is highly encouraged to interact :DD feel free to ask questions and such! HUZZAH

feel free to ship him with anyone/any of your OCS!! I'm really happy to do so!

Fun Fact :D :peter's pronouns are he/they and he is intersex YUPPIE so do what you will with that information!!

here are some of mod's tags

TAGS (mod edition):

🍜#(ze noodle is doodle) - any drawings of peter i did

🍜#(CRYING,SCREAMING,GRIPPING YOU) - FANART DONE BY ANYONE!! fan art is highly encouraged and i love it when you draw the silly fucking bastard

🍜#(I AM SO SORRY QMQ) - like at the top- Im apologizing for peter-

🍜#HEAR YE HEAR YE 🗣️ - mod annoucements

#tf2 rp blog #tf2 blog #tf2 rp #tf2 ask blog #tf2 grn #tf2 oc art #tf2 oc rp blog #tf2 oc askblog #tf2 ocs #tf2 oc

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lapdogchase · 3 months ago

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the gwayupdates guide to safely buying resale tickets 🙏🏼, from @.gwayupdates on twitter

copy-pasting this thread here for ppl who don't have twitter:

regular resale marketplaces 🌟

if you don’t want to deal with a potential scam and have the money to spare, ticketmaster’s own resale market is your safest option, followed by third party resale websites like stubhub & seatgeek. the third party ones aren’t foolproof, but you can dispute sales that go wrong to get your money back. tm & third party have the highest prices because they take fees from sellers + are the easiest places for scalpers to sell. if you value saving money over ease of purchase, i’ll walk you thru how i buy my tickets.

cheapest places to buy resale 🌟

my go-to places are twitter, facebook, and reddit. i’ll go over them one by one. on twitter, i use keywords to search for sellers, usually a mix of artist name, city name, and the date. there is no set verbiage so it’s important to cover all of your bases. here are some screenshots of what my search history may look like if i wanted tix for the arlington show. note the variation i use. twt saves your history, up to 5 at a time, so usually i’ll search across diff accs multiple times a day to get to new posts first.

there’s so many other keywords you can use, as well. sometimes fandoms will make a hashtag for dates or tours, and those are great places to look. for facebook, join as many tour groups as you can. look up my chemical romance, and join tour specific ones or any buy/sell ones. on reddit, it depends on the subreddit rules. sometimes there will be specific posts designated for people to list their tickets and you can keep an eye on those. for all of these, it’s important to keep checking because for high-demand tours, well priced resales go fast too.

what to look out for before you contact the seller 🌟

look at their post history. have they tweeted about the artist before? recently, i’ve seen scammers who will change their layouts to look like a fan account, but their profile is completely unrelated, clearly bot posts, or cycles thru fandoms based on whatever tickets they are selling at the time. is their whole profile just selling tickets? do their posts sound organic and human? do they interact with people? note that actual people also do make accounts solely for selling.

another thing to look out for is wording—at some point you’ll start seeing the exact same selling tweets copy/pasted by multiple different accounts. don’t bother with those. when you spend enough time searching, you’ll notice patterns in how bots/scammers tweet.

verifying tickets with the seller 🌟

ok, so you’ve determined the account looks normal, or maybe there’s just not enough info, so you contact the seller. what now? before any kind of payment, ask for proof of them having the ticket. i’ve grown wary and now i’ll only accept screen recordings as proof, since screenshots can be doctored, stolen, and reused. i’m also very specific with what i want out of the screen recording: the seller should start in our open dms, exit the social media app, open up ticketmaster, show me their name on the account, and navigate to the ticket they’re trying to sell me. 99% of the time they’ll say yes, because they’re an actual human being who actually wants to sell their ticket for a good price. occasionally i’ve had people say things like “you don’t trust me?” or try to guilt trip me, and i just block and move on. scammers will do anything to convince you they’re trustworthy but actually show you real, undeniable proof. when i ask, i usually start with “sorry i’m paranoid of being scammed, could you please send me xyz” and normal people will understand & do it.

payment 🌟

unless you know this person, either directly or thru a friend, ONLY use the goods & services option in paypal/venmo to pay, and state in the description exactly what you are buying. if you get scammed, you can dispute it with the service, and they’ll refund you. using zelle, cashapp, or regular venmo/paypal opens you up to scams. note that g&s takes a fee from the seller, so i’ll always add 2% or whatever the fee is to my payment so they get the full amount, and i offer to do that upfront when suggesting my method of payment.

other random notes and tips 🌟

some sellers don’t like using g&s because after a certain amount you have to pay taxes on your sales. for a purchase this big, i wouldn’t risk it personally. i’ve seen people send half the money, receive the ticket, then send the other half, i’ve seen people facetime during transactions to ensure stuff goes thru and that there are real people on both sides and all of those are valid options. unless it’s someone i or a friend know, or if it’s a small purchase, i personally always use g&s and leave no room for error.

best time to buy 🌟

this next week or two will have many resellers, and then again in the 1-2 months leading up to the show. the weeks leading up to the show are when i start to do my rounds of searches every few hours, every day. it pays off.

if you’re willing to risk not getting anything, you can get great deals the night before or day of the show, even on those resale sites like stubhub or on tm itself, cuz this is when ppl are desperate to sell. i’ve even gotten free tickets before looking on twt hours before.

ok that’s all. lmk if u have any questions and feel free to dm me if you ever want help vetting someone! i want all of u to be safe and am willing to help make sure things work out for u. thank u! 🌟

again, here's the link to the original thread!!

#text #long post #reposting for ppl who dont have twitter

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wisecrackingeric-2 · 1 year ago

Text

‘Mourning Doves’

Summary:

Despite the fact that it had been years since Valdelobos- years since Leon saved Luis from that knife to the back- Leon still can’t help but remember that day. He still can’t help but get triggered by the smallest of things and dissociate as a result.

But luckily, Luis is always there to comfort him, hug him, and offer him a distraction. Oddly enough, in the form of Mourning Doves

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,000

Trigger Warnings: Panic attacks, dissociation, depression, anxiety, derealisation

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff and angst

A/N: UHHHHHHHHHHHH SORRY FOR NO FICS IN SUCH A LONG TIME TUMBLR EXPLODED MY ACC!!!!!!!!!! BUT HERES A MEW SHORT ONE FOR YOU GUYS YIPPEEEE!!!!!!! Go give it some kudos or something idk!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fic under Cut!!!!

Leon sat on his unmade bed. Completely motionless. He had his legs crossed and arms folded tightly against his chest in some vain attempt of self-soothing; not too nonadjacent to a young child forcing themselves out of a panic attack.

Except Leon had nothing to be upset over. Nothing tangible or real, at least.

But that didn’t stop the horrible, yet ever-familiar grip on his chest from tightening its claws around him even firmer. That didn’t stop the sickening, ill, and all-consuming pit of anxiety to worm his way deep into his sternum; pulsating like a virus Leon was familiar with destroying.

Leon could deal with Bioweapons. He could deal with viruses and plagues and whatever manmade horror the sick freaks he fought against could think to create.

But his own mind? He wasn’t trained for that. He was never taught how to deal with his mental health in a way that seemed healthy. He was never taught how to deal with his problems without the use of alcohol- Which led him to where he was right now.

Sitting on his bed, effectively paralyzed, staring out the window while internally screaming for his brain to stop replaying the same series of events over and over again like some kind of sick and twisted form of torture.

Leon couldn’t think about anything else. He couldn’t think about how the sheets under his hands felt or how the breeze from his window smelt like early-summer; he was trapped in his own mind.

So much so, that even when Luis silently slipped through their shared bedroom door and sat down on the bed beside him, Leon didn’t even notice the weight dip beneath the both of them. He hadn't even noticed Luis was there at all until a familiar hand crept up his shoulder.

“ Mi amor,”

His voice was soft. Characteristically so. He

spoke like Leon was made of fragile porcelain. Which, in that moment, he felt like he was.

Luis paused, waiting for Leon to respond. A sign of life from behind those distant blue eyes. Something, anything.

“What’s got you so upset, ¿mi vida?”

And oh, how Leon was so easy to break down by just a simple question.

He turned to Luis with big, watery blue eyes and a trembling lip- trying his damned to not shatter right then and there- but the second he came face to face with Luis’ kind, ever-understanding and patient expression, he had no choice but to break down in his arms.

He sobbed as Luis held him. He sobbed like he’d never cried before; like a baby taking their first breaths and finding the world too overwhelming. Everything felt overwhelming to Leon. His body felt like a prison of fear and relentless anxiety and all he could do to remedy that was to cry and cry and cry and cry and cry and-

“ Ssssshhhhhh… está bien, mi amor… te tengo, te tengo…”

Luis ran a hand through Leon's hair, keeping him grounded- protecting him from his own memories. Like the tried and true knight in shining armor he was.

He was so patient. So comforting and reassuring that it only served to make Leon cry even harder. He waited for what felt like ours for Leon to stop crying- and was right there to dry his tears with his thumbs once Leon had finally gathered the strength to sit up from his curled-up position on Luis’ lap.

“I-I’m s-sorry-“

“Don’t be,”

Luis kissed him on the cheek.

“You don’t ever need to be sorry. I just worry for you, cariño-“

“I-I k-know you do… I just…”

Leon trailed off, sighing like an old dog. Words were hard to express, especially when Luis already had an idea of what was coming.

“What’s got you so upset, mi mundo?”

Leon’s lips tightened as he pressed them together. He could feel his own heart thump against his chest- sickly and repetitive.

“….I don’t know”

“You don’t know?” Luis cocked his head. Leon shook his own, sinking further into his partner’s arms.

“I don’t know why I’m so upset. I don’t know why I’m so anxious. I just… am.”

“Do you know if there was anything that, ah, what’s the word-“ Luis snapped his fingers, “triggered it?”

Leon paused.

He knew exactly what had ‘triggered’ this train of emotions. He knew exactly where it had started; but part of him didn’t want to admit it out loud.

The thought had come to him early in the morning and left him feeling rotten all day.

How on earth was he supposed to explain to Luis that a single, made-up scenario in his mind had left him practically glued to his bed like this? He felt pathetic, to say the least.

“…. You can be honest with me,”

Luis whispered into his ear, as if he were able to read his mind.

“ I promise, I only want to help..”

“ I know you do,”

Leon mumbled back, burying his nose in the familiar fabric of Luis’ jacket. It smelt like cigarettes and leather.

“ I jus’ dunno how to explain it…”

“Take aaaaaaaaall the time in the world you need, mi vida,”

Luis pressed a kiss to the crown of Leon’s head and began rubbing circles into his back. Slow, repetitive and comforting.

“ I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”

And true to his word, Luis didn’t pry. He didn’t try to coax anything out of Leon when he remained silent for god knows how long; he just… stayed with him. Holding him. Being the pillar of comfort Leon so desperately needed in his life right about now.

God, where would he be without Luis?

That thought made him shudder.

“…¿Amor?”

Luis must’ve noticed it, too.

“I was thinking about what would’ve happened if you died,”

Leon blurted out. Rather ungraciously. The panic that teetered on the edge of clawing at his chest and ripping his ribcage wide open was far too threatening for Leon to stay silent over any longer.

“T-This morning,” Leon managed to collect his words best he could, voice shaky and uneven.

“I-I w-woke up- a-and y-you weren’t there- and- and- and I thought to myself- w-what would it have been like if- if I didn’t help you? If I- I- I- if I left you there to-“

“ Oh, mi amor…”

Despite the very-much-so-alive Luis’ gentle voice being audible in Leon's ears, the mental image of his bloody body strewn across the floor with Krauser’s knife lodged firmly into his spine was too much for the anxious man to handle.

So Leon cried. He cried and he cried and he cried. He sobbed so loudly his own ears rang and his knuckles went white from grabbing onto Luis’ leather jacket so tightly. He cried so hard he thought he might vomit.

It was awful. He felt trapped in his own body with no way of escape. All his mind would let him do was replay that same imaginary image of Luis’ corpse sitting lifeless against the wall like a Ragdoll; cruel and taunting. No matter how much Leon tried to break away from that picture in his head, it just never left.

He wanted it to stop. He’d do anything to make it stop. He’d drink he’d throw himself in front of a van he’d bash his head against a wall he’d-

“Oh, huh, would you look at that…”

“ W-What??”

Leon was broken out of the sickly and unending grasp of his brain for just a moment when Luis spoke up; his voice weirdly lighthearted and… distracted?

The brunette was staring at something on the opposite end of the room with an expression of mild curiosity.

“¿No puedes ver? Look,”

Luis ever-so-gently grabbed Leon’s chin and gingerly tilted his head towards the window;

Where, sitting on the sill that had been overgrown with weeds at this point, were two mourning doves- preening each other and cooing into the sky.

“Doves”

“Y-yeah…”

Leon sniffled, a little confused.

“Oye, I wonder how long they’ve been there”

“I haven’t seen them before,”

Leon mumbled against Luis’ chest, instinctively sinking against his body weight a little as his attention fastened entirely on the two birds sitting on the windowsill. They fluffed up their feathers and began to nestle down into the thick ivy, and silently, Leon thanked himself for not ripping it out earlier. Their little eyes closed in comfort as they squished against one another.

“I wonder if they’re building a nest”

“I hope so,” Leon mumbled again, suddenly feeling oddly… calm?

“I’ve never had, like, a bird nest on my window before”

“My old home used to be a paradise for birds,” a smile was evident in Luis’ voice as he spoke,

“They’d nest in the attic, in the windowsills, in the chimney- anywhere you can imagine, they’d be there.

“My Abuelo used to help me feed them, too. We’d tear up bits of bread and feed the crumbs to the sparrows outside…”

Luis began to trail off, recalling a memory in which as a little boy he slipped off the roof of his home while trying to throw the baby birds sitting on the chimney some bread crumbs- and Leon listened to every single word that left his partner's mouth. All the while watching the doves slowly nestle their way to sleep.

It was as if the bird's exhaustion rubbed off on Leon, too; because in mere moments, the poor man was slowly starting to struggle keeping his eyelids open, let alone make out the convoluted sentences that left Luis’ mouth.

It was like he had suddenly become so very aware of the way his body sat in his partner’s arms; the way his jaw ached for clenching it for hours on end and the way his limbes screamed as though he’d just run a marathon. The way his eyes stung and the way the puffiness clogged up the little amount of vision he did have left.

Leon’s brain felt thick; foggy, heavy and swimming with emotions so fickle and impossible to grasp- like fish in a pond- yet so impactful it left him rotting in his bed for hours on end. Funny how the mind works like that, right?

What was Leon worried about again? He couldn’t even remember. It was as if his mind couldn’t fathom a world beyond the methodical melody of Luis’ familiar pattern of speech and the low purring the doves outside cooed. It was as if Leon had been snapped back down to his reality and could finally feel the sheets beneath his fingers again and-

Oh.

Ooooooooooooohh.

That’s probably why Luis pointed out the birds. That’s why he started talking about something totally unrelated.

He was trying to provide Leon a distraction. Some semblance of relief.

Leon didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the realization.

And even if he wanted to, he felt far too exhausted- emotionally and physically- to bring his body to do either of those things.

What he could do, however, was sink even further down into Luis’ lap; resting his head on his chest, which was characteristically showing through an unbuttoned shirt just how he always wore it.

That was one thing Leon was grateful for; that no matter what life threw at him, little habits like that never changed with Luis. Little habits that Leon learnt to adore so thoroughly over time made him feel overwhelmed. Little habits he wouldn’t trade for the world.

Leon instinctively nuzzled his nose against Luis’ chest hair and practically melted the second his partner ran a hand through his hair- cold rings clinking against his scalp was a welcomed replacement to the way his skin burned and stung from his tears.

Luis’ heartbeat reverberated against Leon's ears and the rumble of his voice soothed his already tired body down to a mere puddle of exhaustion. It was repetitive. Comforting. Real.

Luis was real. Here was right here, holding him, talking to him in time with his beating heart. Telling him stories of a time long-gone while simultaneously pointing out all the little things that still remained.

Speaking of, the doves on the windowsill had fallen asleep a long time ago now. And Leon wasn’t far behind.

Maybe Luis didn’t notice it. Maybe he did, but still kept talking just to be safe- but Leon had fallen inbetween the cracks of wakefulness and sleep long ago. His mind was still active yet there wasn’t a chance in the world he could be moved from his position anytime soon.

And if Luis didn’t notice it earlier, he certainly had now with the way he so delicately kissed the crown of Leon’s head, mumbling into his ears;

‘‘ Go to sleep, Amor,’’

Luis kissed him again. This time on the forehead.

“ I’ll be right here when you wake up. Te amo.”

Leon trusted him. By god, he trusted him more than anyone else in the entire world; and he loved him even more than that, too.

So he trusted that Luis would be there when he woke up.

He trusted that he wouldn’t leave him- that he wouldn’t stop holding him in his arms like this. Safe, quiet, and loved.

Leon didn’t have to listen to the cruel torment of his mind anymore- and, yes, saying that was easier than done- but he at least knew that if did fall down that sick, dark and neverending rabbit hole ever again;

He’d have Luis by his side to help pull him back up.

And Leon would do the same for him in a heartbeat, too.

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bluenightcomedies · 1 year ago

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uuuugh i keep procrastinating cuz i wanna make new refs n' arts n' all for us all but art slow so fuggit placeholder pinned abt the system better pinned with comm details, other accs, etc later :3 will reopen for commissions once arty verifies me! as a whole we're legally deaf and disabled! we can all draw but have diff styles/preferences :3 body is 30 (eugh i don't like admitting that) so am adult BUT we don't wanna be involved in nsfw art so pls respect that⭐ We can't get a formal diagnosis due to various real life issues, so we're not going to claim any particular diagnosis, but we can't exactly ignore the symptoms and stay masked forever. We're going to stay out of syscourse as much as possible, of course. 🌙 each alter has an assigned emoji so ppl can tell us apart easier if needed, use em as our tags too (when we remember) note- using they/them for any of us fine too!⭐

(doesn't include alters that rarely or never front) ⭐star emoji = Blue! she/her pls~ guess i'm the honorary host cuz i front most. uhhh... nothing rly too fancy i can say abt myself, i'm p affectionate and love y2k art and hanging out, i try to be as nice as i can >w< my art's usually sketchbooky, with thin lines and soft colors/shading!

💠this blue gem/flower emoji is Azure! she/her, she's kinda new to the system. looks n' acts a lot like me but uh... more childish i guess? very silly, very 'cringe culture is dead'. loves to rp, say silly things, n' cling to people. hyperfixates on Dot Hack (RIP) her art looks like mspaint x3 🌙 (Writing for myself since I'm available.) The name's Lune, hence moon emoji, and I use she/her pronouns as well. Formerly "Starry" but people kept confusing me with Blue due to her star symbolism. Used to be the designated mask, I'm glad I don't have to do that anymore... Sometimes I re-mask out of habit so if something sounds like me but wasn't marked as an alter, it probably is me. I have a flat tone and chronic paranoid anxiety so uh... Let me know if I come across as rude, I usually don't mean to. I enjoy doing research and organizing information, so I'm often the one to fact-check things or find guides and how-to's for the system. My art's very bold and colorful, and friends describe it as 'angular'. Clashes with my personality, huh? 🗝️key emoji = Sylverwynd! he uses he/him! he's super laid back and chill, i've never seen him upset or anything, but he's rly long-winded talks... kinda poet-y? he loves reading and talking abt lore and myths so he'll pop in if ur talking abt something he likes or if he has trivia 2 share! fave genres r horror n' fantasy he's still experimenting w/ style but likes drawing rly soft

❌cross emoji= Laceburner! it/its or they/them pronouns! tbh i'm not used to it/its pronouns but Lace wanted em; it's very uh... emotionally empty i guess? aroace, agender, can't socialize or empathize v well. it usually fronts when the rest of us are tired or in pain cuz it just ignores all that. likes 2000's scenemo aesthetics though which is surprising but ye idk how to describe its style, but it's trying to mimic emo art n' likes bright colored lines with dark bg/colors 🗡️the dagger is Kal! he/him pronouns, he gets angry and stressed abt things really easy but he gets too hostile abt it so he tries to not front too much; need to find him a way to de-stress n' chill out... when he's not mad at smth he's a good sympathetic listener imo, still swears and talks all rough tho hasn't drawn much yet but does rly harsh lines and fast/messy sketches when he does (and gets riled up by mistakes =w=;)

❤️heart is Weiss! genderfluid, goes by any pronouns, usually uses whatever they like at the time x3 has a hard time fronting but tries to. flirty, loves dumb jokes, overly confident... (we worry they'd get us in trouble sometimes cuz the shit they want to say) loves demon and monster-related stuff! still experimental style but uses bold colors and thick rough lines a lot, may get suggestive (forbidden from outright nsfw, don't ask >:c) btw ur always welcome to direct asks @ someone specific >w< we just might take a while to respond

#pinned post #pinned intro #plural artist #furry artist #system stuff

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courfeyracs-swordcane · 1 year ago

Note

Who are the ballad brothers I have seen you tag them on a variety of posts and I am intrigued

THREE MONTHS LATE BUT HERE WE GO!!! I also did a post about this ages ago which I’ll link HERE but! There’s been a lot of development since then!!!

This is going to get long. Sorry in advance. (Also I’m keeping it to just the Ballad Brothers themselves (and co) but lmk if you also want to know about the saints! They’re not at all relevant to the main plot (two and a half exceptions) but they live rent free in my head)

TLDR. Little guys took up residence in my head when I listened to music in the car and it’s become a whole scifantasy worldbuilding exercise.

Anyway!

KYRIE ALEIDIS BALLAD

- she/her

- 29 years old

- 5’11 (and a half)

- Massive Fucking Tech Sword

- Enneagram 8w7 if you’re an enneagram guy

- she is YOUNG she’s FANTASTIC she’s GOD’S FAVORITE and she’s NEVER GOING TO DIE

- The main character!

- She is the city (symbolic) and her name is god

- Former sword-for-hire/star player/golden girl/mascot/diversity hire (whatever you want to call it) for evil organization(tm) Rekah’s Finest

- (named after St Rekah of the Guard)(think somewhere between the CIA and the Pinkertons)(National guard type of thing that staged a very quiet coup/government takeover about a decade before Kyrie was born and is gradually got to the point where they’re running the city-state where this all takes place as a police state)

- current renegade and aspiring vigilante

- she fucked off the minute she turned 18 to join the metaphorical army/become a cop (same difference)(except there’s also regular cops and they kind of suck shit) and very quickly became very good at it!

- wound up as essentially the Special Little Guy they have as the face of the organization doing a lot of like. Public outreach and shit. Also doing a lot of assassinations inside and outside of the city

- A few years before the story starts she Realized Some Things about how her and Alonzo were orphaned and quit her job EXTREMELY publicly and extremely dramatically and left with nothing but her Massive Fucking Tech Sword and the clothes on her back and fucked off to go hide/live in a massive tower monument at the center of town

- It’s… legally difficult to get her out of there due to the historical site preservation regulations so she’s just been kind of vibing there ever since

- Theoretically. She’s trying to take down the RF and get them Out Of Her Damn City

- In practice she’s one singular burnout and has no idea how the hell to go about doing that so she’s mostly just hanging out in the tower and evading arrest

- She’s a fuck boy dirt bag piece of shit (etc etc etc) and I love her for it

- She gets no bitches despite being a local celebrity with one of The Fanbases Ever (she would do numbers on scifantasy Twitter) bc She’s So Sucks <3

- (no bitches except she does have a weird homoerotic thing going w her roommate/childhood best friend who’s kind of a reincarnation of St Ely who built the city and lives in the tower)(she’s not looking at it)(she’s got bigger problems called Avoiding Confronting Any Emotion bc if she looks at any of them she’ll have to process all of the Guilt she has irt. Pretty much abandoning her baby brother on the streets to go be a hero and then Never Contacting Him Again)

ALONZO BALLAD

- he/him

- 25

- 5’4

- two regular guns

- Kyrie’s aforementioned baby brother!

- Enneagram 3w4 which if you were friends w me 2019-2021 you’ll know exactly how much that says everything you need to know about this guy (derogatory)

- Most repressed mfer on the planet and a neurotic little freak

- Considers himself to be the only guy in this found family with a braincell. (Untrue, even if you don’t count An)

- His first instinct in a lot of situations is Improv Theater. (Seeing his sister for the first time in more than ten years? Better wear a hood and prepare a whole dramatic reveal about it. Ran into the guy he kissed at the office holiday party while trying to get his expense account wrangled for an upcoming assignment? Time to launch into an extended bit about how he’s so sad and poor and he’s gonna starve and freeze to death all alone on the street and Only They have the power to help him. please.)(they think it’s hilarious but jfc what’s wrong with him)

- The main issue with him is that he gets his apartment and all of his necessities directly from his employer, so his first priority at all times is Preserve His Job At All Costs

- He thinks of the way he lives as self care. I think of it as masochism.

- His main idea of a Life Plan from the ages of 15-his early 20s was Look At What His Older Sister Did And Then Do It Too

- (his main idea of a life plan from the ages of 3-20 was Don’t Get In Trouble Ever or They Will Come And Kill You To Death)(these are not especially compatible philosophies.)

- So he’s a sword-for-hire (gun for hire. And not even a fancy tech one. They’re not trusting any more Ballad brothers with any more expensive technology.)

- This is not working out well for him. he’s not overwhelmingly good at the job. He doesn’t find any purpose in killing people. He doesn’t even like blood.

- He is, however, very good at following orders. But only when he wants to.

- He’s also very good at Lying To His Boss’s Boss

- They keep sending him to try and assassinate Kyrie as like. Kind of a power move? Trying to show her that they’ve got her only family at their beck and call and they can make him do whatever they want

- Unfortunately Alonzo has no interest in killing her so those missions pretty much just wind up with him going to hang out in the tower and shoot shit for a couple days and then going back and turning on the big sad wet eyes for his report to tell them that he did his best he really did but she’s always been stronger and he just couldn’t take her— but he’ll do better next time he promises 🥺🥺🥺

- Kyrie had been their best guy for several years and Alonzo is, in all other regards, the perfect employee (turns in all his paperwork ahead of time, does every other mission very efficiently and never gets caught, goes to all the company mixers even though everyone can tell he’s exhausted, always has his uniform meticulously clean and pressed) so this is plausible, and they go “aww okay better luck next time :) go get some rest :)”

- Also he’s lowkey a hostage here. What are they gonna do? Fire him? No they need him for leverage

- It drives his immediate supervisor who knows EXACTLY what’s going on up the fucking wall. We will get to them.

- Gets Fucking Shot With A Cheater Bullet (very small timed action grenade) on an assignment midway through the story and his first instinct (instead of going back to the office where they have like. Actual doctors and medical equipment to deal with that) is to head to St Ely’s tower, where they have his sister and his kind of boyfriend and also his sister’s roommate who can sew and his childhood buddy Jonesie down the street who knows first aid

- He’s not thinking especially straight due to the Panic and also the Blood Loss from the Bullet In His Ribcage and he’s got a whole emotional thing about how he wants to die at home w his people— and then it goes off and he Fucking Dies. Whoops!

- He gets better his boyfriend (for real now lmao) is an aspiring necromancer and God’s Pet Freak (there’s a lot. Behind that. more later) and he very pointedly doesn’t believe in magic or saints or anything but also his chest cavity did very much get exploded and he’s fine now (besides the lingering Effects) so like.

- He deals with this by 1. Contacting his supervisor who lets the higher ups know there’s been An Incident. 2. Going back to work as soon as they’ll let him (like three days later). and 3. Getting himself transferred to the security division and becoming Ari’s dad’s bodyguard so he doesn’t have an excuse to go hang out at the tower anymore and he doesn’t have to look at any of those emotions he can just Focus on his Work <3

- Obviously that does not go well for him.

SENECA “ARI” FINCH

- they/them/any

- 25

- 5’2

- Enneagram 5w6

- Mad scientist

- Nepo baby

- Front desk intern for the RF financial department

- Aspiring necromancer

- God’s Pet Freak

- If you’ve ever wondered what happens when you raise a child in one of those beige instagrammable influencer houses. It’s this.

- Their dad is the puppet city governor for the RF (Kyrie wants him dead so goddamn bad)(he’s kind of a useless twink but he’s an easy guy to blame for all this shit)

- Their mom died when they were like 8 of something pretty regular and they have since dedicated pretty much their entire life to Bringing Her Back

- (No they were not especially close or anything why do you ask?)

- TECHNICALLY their dad, knowing their passion for Science (and not much else about them) got them a cushy RF job developing biotech to make the cool individualized tech weapons

- In practice, they got their funding and their fancy work lab and immediately proceeded to squirrel just about everything useful from it downstairs to their own personal lab in the basement (not on the floor plan) where they don’t have to worry about things like “supervision” “safety regulations” “proper ventilation” “their job” etc

- They are still doing their job but they’re getting it done in like. Two days out of the month and spending literally all the rest of their time on the necromancy

- It’s gotten to the point where they’re not even clocking in upstairs anymore so they made them take a couple shifts a week at the front desk of the financial department just so they have something on record to pay them for

- They’re okay with this! it’s fun to switch it up and there’s snacks in the breakroom

- I cannot emphasize enough how much they Do Not Leave the horrifying unventilated unethical science basement. there’s a couch in the corner and a sink and an employee bathroom in the stairwell what more could they need.

- One of the early plotlines is centered around Getting Them To Go Outside (really outside, not just to the regular parts of the RF building) and like. Idk. Maybe seeing a leaf or smth would be good for them)

- where they also wind up meeting and hanging out w Kyrie and El, doing some upkeep on Kyrie’s fancy sword, and being Absolutely Fascinated by St Ely’s Tower (there’s some generally buried Magic Shit that perks up when them and El are in the room together)

- BECAUSE!!! (And this is why they haven’t succumbed to the Fumes in the horrifying unventilated unethical science basement, or the gas leak in there from the pipe main running through the middle of it that they’ve been siphoning off of, or any of the experiments they do on themself bc they can’t get any other test subjects and also bc they wouldn’t trust anyone else’s testimony as to What It’s Like) the magic, which is how Ely built the city (and how all of the other saints Did Their Things as well but that’s a whole other can of worms) is a vapor that lives underground and speaks no human language but saw this little freak trying to defy the laws of nature from their hole in the ground and took a liking to them

- It can’t bring their mom back bc she’s been dead for fifteen years and it never met her so it wouldn’t even know where to start

- But it likes them! It follows them around and keeps them alive and helps with their experiments :)

- (they remind it of Saint Ely, who was a similarly tiny passionate freak, but that’s also a whole other can of worms)

- Ari is not aware of this in the slightest.

- Their second arc is getting Disappeared from legal existence (very easy. They live in a basement and barely ever leave it and don’t really talk to people), realizing that they are in fact mortal and could potentially die someday, and trying to contact their dad to make sure he knows they’re okay. (Doesn’t work. They’ve been disappeared and are no longer allowed past the front desk.)

- Their third arc (during the communal breakdown era. Kyrie’s abandoned by god arc where she decides to run away from her problems in a literal sense and Alonzo’s evil arc where stops speaking to everybody and dives headfirst into his job at the war crimes factory) is deciding that the same thing happened to their mom and the necromancy isn’t working because she’s NOT actually dead which means she’s out there somewhere and they can find her! :)

- That is not even a little bit true. :(

EL (no last name)

- he/him (woman)

- Doesn’t really have an age. They don’t really exist in time in the usual sense

- 5’0

- Enneagram 9w1

- Lives in the tower

- Just kind of showed up there one day as a kid and has been living there ever since

- There’s a nearby convent of some kind that fed and clothed them growing up (same place that looked after Kyrie and Alonzo after they were orphaned)

- Kind of a reincarnation of Saint Ely. not in so many steps bc again. Out of time and who knows how long he’s been there but like. He’s back for more but he’s a lady with an ounce of common sense this time. It’s unclear how much he’s aware of this part of it. He knows the tower is important, and he knows restoring the murals inside of it is important. I don’t think he knows why.

- only guy in this found family who’s even remotely capable of coping with the idea of death (he already did that)(kind of psychopomp coded about it)

- Kyrie’s best friend and second in command so much as she has a command. Weird homoerotic gay thing going on there. I assume there’s some of the traditional St Ely brand of devotion but like

- (And by traditional I mean I don’t think that’s a widely known thing about Ely the Saint but it is one of the more prominent things about Ely the Guy)

- Spends most of his time restoring the tower and the murals inside that nobody has seen in years

- (That’s a whole thing)(different can of worms)

- This is @nosongunsung11’s guy so I’ll tap them in for the details but I think that’s the basics!!

AN “PUNK” JANG

- they/them (lesbian)(in gender moreso than practice)

- 35 but they’re lying about it. actually 33

- 5’5

- Enneagram 1w2 😬

- Twin fancy tech rapiers

- The previous Special Little Guy/Mascot/face of the RF

- Ran away from home, changed their name, and lied about their age to join up when they were 16 and they’ve just kind of been going off that ever since

- Went by Punk for a while towards the beginning of their career bc they were 16/17 and it Sounded Cool and it would up becoming almost like their callsign (that’s what Alonzo calls them bc he was very much an enjoyer when he was a kid. They were like Spider-Man to him. Blorbo from the news.)(and he continues to call them that bc he’s a little shit.)

- (They wound up naming themselves after Saint Anjane of Strength not because they believe in any saints but because they desperately wish they did and this way at least they can pretend they know what it might feel like to have that kind of faith.)(in a fun and funky coincidence, they’re actually very very similar to Saint Anjane herself. El has some Complicated Emotions about this.)(long story. It’s Saint Ely’s Monument but it’s also the closest thing he has to a grave— he pulled it out of the ground so he could be alone w/ Anje’s body after he got to her execution too late to talk her out of it)

- Got shunted when Kyrie showed up and was infinitely more personable due to her heroics in SciFantasy 9/11 (long story. Building exploded.) and general bright-eyed and bushy tailed unjaded Disposition

- And by shunted I mean promoted to middle management in the Murder Department

- They’re fine with this it’s significantly less work on their end

- They do make sure after that to have everything they need for basic living separated from the job though

- Only guy in this found family with their own actual apartment. And basic cooking skills. And healthy sleep schedule.

- When Alonzo gets into the Murder Department they wind up as his immediate supervisor!

- Exciting prospect at first! He’s a high profile assignment (hostage) and also an easy assignment (does all of his paperwork on time, completes his missions Quietly and Efficiently, doesn’t really do anything interesting at all)

- Less exciting prospect once they actually work with him. He’s a little shit and a motherfucker and he knows exactly what he’s doing

- They can’t stop covering for him at this point without doing a hell of a lot of paperwork and jeopardizing their own job so they’re stuck now

- Also. unfortunately. they got attached. They’re not the step-older sibling, they’re the older sibling who stepped up.

- They’re the one who arrests Kyrie at the beginning of the story and kick off the whole first half of the plot, but they also wind up putting in their two weeks after Alonzo Gets Fucking Killed and then immediately goes back to work

- They do it significantly better than Kyrie tho they keep their apartment and their bank account and return most of their uniforms so the rf doesn’t have any reason to come after them besides Aiding and Abetting (and also trespassing. On the protected historical site that is St Ely’s monument. But that’s the least of anyone’s worries here.)

- They wind up kind of taking charge of the. whatever the hell these guys are doing. during the Communal Breakdowns arc. they would really prefer not to be doing this but somebody has to. So.

- Also during that arc they wind up facing off with Alonzo and boy howdy is there a reason they got assigned as the rf’s Special Little Guy and he didn’t, bc he doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell even with them holding back

AND THAT’S THE MAIN CAST! Thank you for coming to my ted talk! (Get it?) I’ve hit the image limit on mobile so I’ll come back and add the before/after pictures in a reblog bc I had fun making those

#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK BLUEBERRY I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG #ballad brothers #please disregard the world’s Shittiest Low Effort Backgrounds on the art I slapped them together in like ten seconds #Kyrie ballad brothers #Alonzo ballad brothers #Ari ballad brothers #El ballad brothers #An ballad brothers

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void-botanist · 9 months ago

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OC Pokemon teams tag: AOM

I'm taking an open tag from @kk7-rbs for this one! I chose these for the main AOM players based on vibes and also story potential.

Also an open tag!

Sid

He doesn't really favor any type, and that shows in his team. He evolved the Sirfetch'd from a Farfetch'd that fought him for an onion, the Goodra from a Goomy he found in the garden (his parents did NOT want him to take it inside), and the Alcremie from a Milcery he caught with the smell of his baking (it's probably a different variant than the one shown but he let it pick out its candy). The Mimikyu showed up when he was cleaning out the attic, and he feels like they have a lot in common actually. Donovan gave him a Galarian Yamask and fully believed it could never be evolved, but Sid figured out how to evolve it anyway. Emma gave him the Froslass when she got a shiny Froslass, and he had to retrain it to be less slappy and bitey.

Donovan

He loves ground and rock types more than anything but those alone are kind of a weak team, so he's diversified. He's a big fan of Pokemon that are Shaped, hence the Shelgon and Gastrodon. Unfortunately he has never met someone who was fooled by the Sudowoodo. The Mudsdale is his hard hitter, the Trevenant is his favorite, and the Sableye he picked up from a cave because it reminded him of Sid (then a small child). Through no fault of its own it got most of Donovan's care and affection (RIP Sid) and is kind of a spoiled brat.

Emma

Her team organizing principle is cuntiness. She picked Sobble as a starter years ago so she could end up with Inteleon. Pheromosa, Tsareena, and Froslass were all pretty easy choices too. She thinks the Machamp is cute and it has a great attitude (smash all opponents). It actually has not given her the most injuries - the Rapidash has, between its pointy horn and its tendency to get into her head with its psychic abilities. She doesn't super discourage this kind of behavior because any Pokemon that can knock her down can doubly do it to her challengers.

Avis

She favors ghost types (she used to have a Trevenant in her main team but she switched it out when she found out Donovan had one). She loves Rillaboom the most, though, because she's had it the longest - she raised it from a Grookey. Her default strategy is to use its size (it's 6' 11") to intimidate most challengers (including Sorian), and then switch to Dhelmise when it gets a little low on health. Anyone who knows their types will assume she has a grass-based team, at which point she can pull out Kommo-o or Grappleoct to surprise them. Gengar and Dragapult also unnerve people, which is fine by her. She hates it when people point it out but she's very kind to her Pokemon and is far more worried about how good of a trainer she is to them than how powerful they are as fighters (pretty powerful).

Sorian

He loves fairy and psychic types and they love him. Obviously the Ninjask is an exception, but he keeps it in his team just in case and because Horatio gave it to him (he still doesn't understand why Horatio thinks it's like him, but okay. It's cute). He often lets the Comfey stay out of its Pokeball and wears it as a flower crown, which Avis finds infuriating (how dare he have a cute Pokemon like that. fucking asshole). People think Avis will be irrationally pissed off by the Hatterene, since it looks kind of like a human woman, but it just looks like that - why would she be mad? Sorian's favorite Pokemon is actually the Togekiss, which likes to snuggle with him when he's alone but retreats as soon as Avis shows up. His most powerful Pokemon in battle are definitely the Claydol and Musharna.

Horatio

Horatio didn't start out trying to bridge as many types as possible, nor to have only dual-type Pokemon, but once he realized it was happening anyway he leaned into it. He started with the Galvantula, which used to ride in his pocket when it was a Joltik, and ended up with Vileplume when his Oddish would not stop accompanying him out of his florist shop. Edith gave him the Swinub he evolved into Piloswine, and Sorian gave him the Deino he evolved into Hydregion because it looked like him (it did). The Aegislash came from a Honedge that tried and failed to blend in with his gardening tools, and the Gallade - which he suspects used to belong to someone else - he found wandering in the woods when he was studying river plants. It has very little self control around people who are rude to him, and it sometimes gets switched out of his team temporarily when it's being moody.

#oc pokemon team tag #tag games #id in alt #c: Sid #c: Horatio #c: Donovan #c: Emma #c: Avis #c: Sorian #wip: aom

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unfortunatelyilikebnha · 1 year ago

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Ok now that I’m thinking abt it cfv cast social media headcanons if cfv was set a little closer to now than 2011:

Aichi: he has Instagram but mostly to follow Kai (who didn’t actually accept his follow request until like the end of season 1 lmao) and Misaki and all his other friends rather than out of a particular desire to post pictures himself. It’s a private account and he posts when the mood strikes him, with content wildly varying from like pictures with friends to cute animals to cool new vanguard cards to food that was particularly good. Has Snapchat because Kamui bugged him about it and mostly uses it for streaks (but he forgets a lot & kamui’s like BROTHER AICHIIIIIIII :( OUR STREAK :( ).

Kai: Instagram. It’s also a private account, and for a while he just had 2 followers (Ren and Tetsu), then after their fallout he blocked Ren and Tetsu but Miwa bugged him into accepting his request (though he didn’t really post during that time just used it to observe), then after s1 he finally accepted more of his friends’ follow requests. Eventually he starts posting food he made & ofc his favorite kagero units (& maybe his friends. Occasionally. He’s not big on writing captions though). I can also see him having a Twitter where people try to antagonize him & he roasts the shit out of them (Kamui is constantly in his mentions trying to start shit, at first out of genuine dislike - he gets blocked for a while because of this - but then just for fun. Kai still blocks him every so often, and/or occasionally plays along and snipes back with some rude comment, but it’s mostly to annoy him back rather than out of genuine malice. Mostly. He does enjoy being an asshole to Kamui though). Has Snapchat but pretty much only opens it when Aichi sends him something (Ren likes to send him a million snaps chronicling his whole day to annoy him so mostly he ignores the app).

Misaki: she’s a Pinterest girlie for sure. Very organized Pinterest boards with images that are always properly sourced. She also has Instagram (also a private acc) but she didn’t use it much before she met her card capital friends, now she uses it to keep tabs on Aichi and the others. She doesn’t really post pictures except on special occasions but she is an avid close friends story user, especially when she knows Kourin will see her posts (before s4? Or au where she doesn’t disappear I guess? Idk it’s my city & I’m already diverging from canon to say they have social media just roll with it). There’s also an official Card Capital Instagram, and when she becomes the store owner in G she doesn’t really run it but she has to approve the content that gets posted there. I can also see her having tumblr just bc of her “strange” sense of humor, like she’d be very anonymous about it and not put basically anything in her bio (MAYBE her name but maybe not even that, & possibly a fake name), but I can see her being fairly popular here.

Kamui: he’s too young for social media AND YET he has it anyways. Can frequently be found getting into fights on Twitter. He’s also a big Snapchat user and HATES when people leave him on read, or when someone’s about to break a streak. Very big on streaks in general, has insanely long ones with Reiji and Eiji. Also he definitely has tiktok and (he will deny this but) he’s jealous when anyone he knows has more followers than he does. How does Suzugamori Ren have that many followers anyways >:/? In G era he downloads Instagram because he heard that Emi did it.

Miwa: definitely a Reddit user (but like not in the derogatory way, he’s just fascinated by the site). He has a personal Instagram as well as a wildly popular other account dedicated to unflattering candid pictures of his friends (mostly Kai but Misaki Kamui and Morikawa are also frequent features, and, on one memorable occasion, Jun). Semi-popular on TikTok for being a sweet & funny guy and also for casually mentioning insane things that happened and never elaborating (“yeah sorry I was absent I got kidnapped because my dumbass friend wanted to play cards with a gang leader, that guy better be grateful”).

Reiji and Eiji: have the same social media Kamui does, and hype him up on it (/occasionally bemoan how lame he is) but also do their own things.

Morikawa: Tumblr user, fully believes the wizard blogs are real wizards. Gets anons from people like “I want to study you” all the time & he always misses the point and makes it into “the Morikawa vanguard school is always open to new students because I am the greatest teacher ever”. After meeting her, a lot of his posts start focusing on Kourin and his followers have an equivalent experience to when someone you’ve followed suddenly turns into a K-pop blog with absolutely no explanation. Kind of famous just because of how fucking weird he is. He also has Snapchat but is like really bad at taking pictures so everything he sends/posts is blurry or at a bad angle, but unironically. Had no interest in any other social media until he heard Kourin had Instagram and Twitter, at which point he downloaded them both and immediately started posting about her.

Izaki: Twitter user /derogatory (sorry Izaki but I know this in my heart to be true. He’s gotta have some red flags to have stayed friends with Morikawa this long). Also has Snapchat and tries (and fails) to help Morikawa take better pictures. Kamui frequently bullies him about losing their streak, which since they’re not actually that close is probably their main form of communication. Izaki’s not totally convinced that Kamui actually knows his NAME, so he’s confused about why he cares so much (it’s bc Kamui has a Snapchat streak with literally everyone he knows who 1. has Snapchat and 2. does streaks). Also possibly has an Instagram where he occasionally gets influxes of followers when he’s tagged in pictures with his more famous friends, but some of them probably don’t think he’s that interesting and soon unfollow (lmao rip)

Emi: does not have social media in the main series but gets an Instagram by G era (when Kamui finds this out he suddenly downloads Instagram even though he has never expressed an interest in it before, and thus so does Nagisa, somehow sensing what Kamui has done).

Nagisa: has Twitter only so she can follow Kamui (again, she is too young for Twitter). Kamui has her blocked but she can still somehow sense when someone’s arguing with him & she comes into their replies like “leave my man alone!!” I would not be surprised if she doxxed people tbh. She keeps getting banned but somehow every time she appeals it the ban is lifted (Kamui suspects dark magic). Also downloads Instagram in G era after Kamui does (how does she know he got it if he didn’t tell her??? She has her ways).

Kourin: has an official ultrarare Instagram and Twitter where she promotes her idol work, and also a private Instagram and Twitter where she posts pictures of her friends and nerds out about vanguard and thoroughly logically dismantles stupid people. Once she posted a stupid meme making fun of Kai on her official ultrarare Twitter instead of her personal one by accident and fully freaked out trying to take it down before the fans screenshotted it (she wasn’t successful bc idol fans are crazy and ended up saying she was hacked) (Kai will never admit it but he thought it was funny). She probably has Morikawa blocked on every platform.

Rekka: an instagram girlie FOR SURE. She posts often and sticks to a cutesy aesthetic, and is wildly popular. She’s also very into Snapchat, both in terms of doing streaks with people and live-blogging funny bits of her day on her story. Probably also spends a lot of time on Pinterest & has a lot of Pinterest boards for every situation.

Suiko: I’ll be real I have no idea. I feel like she either has no social media at all and just like guest appears on Kourin and Rekka’s, or has like official instagram/twitter accounts with tons of followers that she semi-maintains and weird shitposty anonymous accounts where she just posts whatever comes to her brain. Tbh I can see her stirring the pot so she can observe Kamui into getting into more twitter beef just to see what happens. Redditor??? She is a mystery to me.

Kenji: has Tumblr & like 60% of it is dedicated to Ancient Rome, 30% of it is about vanguard, and the last 10% is just him reblogging like feminist stuff and positive messages. A wife guy without actually having a wife or realizing he’s a wife guy (posts a lot about “his friend” - Yuri - bc he just thinks she’s neat, but his followers seem to think he’s in love with her for some reason???). Cries when people on tumblr celebrate the ides of March. Probably has been cancelled for unironically stanning Caesar. Also has an official Instagram but doesn’t post on there much, when he’s there he’s usually just there to like his friends’ posts and log back off. People are surprised by his lack of social media and have not connected his tumblr (where he stays completely anonymous thank you very much, he is Not a fan of the attention) to him, and are always begging him to post more on his Instagram/get more social media, but when Yuri and Gai bring this up hes like no <3 I will not <3

Yuri: she’s a YouTuber for sure & she has helpful videos on deck building, strategy, how to stay calm under pressure, etc. Occasionally she includes her teammates or people from other teams in her videos (Aichi featured in one once and now her fans regularly ask for him to come back lol). She also has an official Instagram and Twitter, and runs most of the official Team Caesar accounts on various platforms. Yuri and Misaki are tumblr mutuals, and she is aware of Koutei’s tumblr (bc they’re both in the vanguard tag a lot and who else would be THAT obsessed with Julius Caesar. She’s no fool, she recognized it was him instantly) but she thinks it’s funny to not tell him it’s her (+ she’s kind of embarrassed in a fond way/thinks he might be embarrassed about the posts abt her if he knew) so she just scrolls through his nice posts abt her when she’s having a bad day.

Gai: tiktok famous for generally being a chill dude who’s willing to answer your vanguard questions but mostly for posting Team Caesar behind the scenes videos, which range from Yuri being mad at one or both of them to them doing challenges/playing games together, to some of their movie star stuff in G, to one particularly memorable video where he just stared at the camera while Yuri and Koutei were being in love with each other and (at least in Koutei’s part) oblivious to it in the background.

Ren: pre-season 1 he had no social media except an Instagram account and a Snapchat, both of which he used to post an ongoing stream of whatever was in his brain so that Tetsu and Kai would see it. After The Breakup™️ he went private and posted a lot of stuff about revenge, and being stronger, etc (which was no use since Kai had him blocked and he was not popular pre-Asteroid era, so pretty much only tetsu saw his posts). Also he’s DEFINITELY a Reddit user lmao. Post-season 1 Asaka got him into tiktok which he immediately became famous on, he joined Twitter which had a preconception of him due to the way he acted during season 1 and so he gets cancelled every other week for a while (eventually they mostly get used to his new personality and the way he says the weirdest shit), and he rebooted his Instagram to be public and deleted most of the old revenge posts (he probably leaves one up just to cause controversy lmao). Often leaves Kyou on read on Snapchat, but whether that’s on purpose or an accident is anybody’s guess. Actually he probably would have tumblr too & be kinda infamous bc his personality would definitely make him popular here tbh. He runs a “official ren suzugamori” blog but he never acknowledges he’s on tumblr anywhere else and everyone thinks it’s just a fake parody blog.

Asaka: tiktok famous for being hot, on team asteroid, and if she’s feeling generous for answering people’s vanguard questions (with a special focus on the Pale Moon of course). Probably also has a sizable following on Instagram. Lords her amount of followers over Misaki who pretends she doesn’t care but early seasons Misaki was actually a little annoyed by this.

Kyou: had a Twitter. Keeps getting banned from Twitter and making new accounts and the cycle repeats. Doesn’t have a tiktok but is tiktok famous anyways for always appearing in team asteroid videos in the weirdest ways (disguised as a potted plant. Scaled the building and can be seen inaudibly yelling in the background through the window on the third floor of team asteroid headquarters. Parachuting down from an airplane. Etc). When people comment about him on Ren’s videos he’s always like “who?” “I don’t see him?” or “huh, that guy looks vaguely familiar…” and when people comment about him on Asaka’s videos she refuses to name him but always says something about how much she hates that guy. Has Snapchat but about half the cast either leaves him on opened/read or straight up has him blocked (he Does take really interesting pictures though, and it’s cool to see all the places he goes! How does he have the money for all this??? Nobody knows).

Tetsu: runs “official team asteroid” accounts, including a YouTube on which Ren is IMMENSELY popular despite not being the account owner. Known for being intimidating on Twitter, and also for (one-sided tbh) twitter beef with Kamui (who would @ him like HEY ASSHOLE ACKNOWLEDGE ME >:/ & Tetsu would just ignore him) in earlier canon. He doesn’t actually use any of his accounts that much besides the YouTube and to publish official updates about team asteroid, but - though he’ll never admit it - he’s a fan of terrible memes. He asked what Asaka was laughing at once and she showed him a vanguard meme (“I don’t know if you’ll get it though”) and he excused himself and went to another room to laugh (Asaka was like ???).

#cleaning out drafts!! oh my god this has been in here for ages…I’m so bad at posting shit #morikawa and nagisa probably both have at least one account with an embarassing kourin or kamui themed name #if they weren’t fucking insane and utterly disinterested in anyone that’s not the person they’re obsessed with they could bond over that #cfv #do I really want to tag everyone. that’s so many people…#sigh. here we go.#sendou aichi #kai toshiki #tokura misaki #katsuragi kamui #suzugamori ren #shinjou tetsu #miwa taishi #uno reiji #saga eiji #morikawa katsumi #izaki yuta #sendou emi #daimonji nagisa #tatsunagi kourin #tatsunagi rekka #tatsunagi suiko #mitsusada kenji #usui yuri #usui gai #narumi asaka #yahagi kyou #anyways I don’t even know if this is good but it’s been sitting in my drafts for like 83 years so out into the world it goes

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popawritter12 · 4 months ago

Text

Yantober: Third Day

"If the only way you will love is by making you crazy, then i'm gonna do it, darling"

There are traces of spit in the kitchen.

I never knew how to explain to my friends, or rather how to make people understand that I have never left spit in my house or in anyone's house, and I even doubted rats were capable of leaving such levels of that shit on the table, on the furniture, on the kitchen, or anywhere in the house. It was extremely stressful to explain to people that I found it inhumane to live in such depraved conditions.

It seemed so disgusting to me that more than once I hesitated to buy a gun, a camera, something to help me and my anger always increased when I stepped on it or touched it by accident.

It was so disgusting that I did not last even a month living with those levels of unknown saliva in my house. I thought about moving out of the house, and a few weeks later, I did it. For the first time in three years this person ---or whoever it is--- had managed to do what I never thought was possible; Took me out of my comfort zone, took me out of MY house to sent me to any place in the world, and for the sole reason that there was always spit in the kitchen, and I find so annoying to always find that horrible liquid in my food, in my forgotten breads or in my juice jugs ---and without going any further my bottle of water---, or even the tiny remains that I left on the table during the nights that I snacked on something or simply forgot to put it away properly.

But even in the new house, a few hours after arriving, where I realized that I had even more space than I ever had in my old apartment, or in my life in general, I always find the same traces of dirty and smelly spit on my bread; traces of slime on my table; traces of spit on my clothes; traces of spit on my furniture; any place that is part of my house in general since more than once I have had the misfortune of finding that viscous liquid.

I usually wouldn't complain if it were small remains, if it were a little more tiny, even if I could identify the causer of this the rats or any other rodent that decided to invade my home. But it bothers me even more to know that it was a person, or that it was some stranger who is obsessed with breaking into my house, eating my food and leaving as if nothing mattered, as if this were his house and not mine, not that of a poor man who only wants to stay on his feet in such a disastrous economy.

I started putting out rat traps, I also used that glue trap that my mom used to cockroaches invasor or I even bought different sprays to keep them at bay, but after a while the traps kept staying in the same place, unused; as if they were a modest decoration, just any one. And more than once I found them organized in different places; As if that person or strange entity was mocking all the effort I had made, all the money I spent to try to cope with this complicated situation, each and every one of my efforts.

I knew at that moment that I was doomed, doomed to live in this miserable house always full of other people's drool, doomed to have some kind of monster stalking me or a very mentally ill human who only wants to delight in my suffering, that is because anyone who knows me would know how difficult it is for me to deal with the issue of wasted food, or even worse; dirty places.

I was ---without a doubt--- an idiot who did not know how to organize or put things away after using or buying them, but I have never committed such a sin of not putting the ingredients away properly inside each bag ---although the only exception to this is nighttime meals---. No! My mother didn't raise me with so much effort to teach me the minimum basic notion about life, so that this stranger comes along and wants to change everything, leaving his disgusting drool behind.

And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, one day I woke up with that viscous liquid on my neck; it wasn't a droplet, or a mark that was dry, but it was accompanied by an unevenness in my skin; I was bitten, and the same traces of saliva were enough proof to know that, indeed, this person or entity seems to know perfectly well what they are doing to me.

I can't stop shaking; I drag my fingers along the already wounded skin, with a certain burning sensation escaping from my neck with each caress from my fingers, whose trace seems to always start and stop in the same place. I still don't understand what to do.

I feel my own words stuck deep in my throat, drowned, tied by the thread of fear, which so possesses my body, and which leaves so much horror on my skin.

But soon I had to go back to work, and the questions were accompanied by a mischievous look, passive jokes that caused a laugh or two among my colleagues, and a feeling of loneliness that embitters my heart.

I press each key of the keyboard with the same ease that it feels, but I can feel my mind going on.

Immersed in this field of terror, full of desolation, and with subtle clues that I refuse to even see or feel under my bare feet. The caresses of the grass have the opposite effect on my mind, and at the same time that I could feel dead in life, my head leaned subtly forward, trying to find a space to continue writing, to finish the report of the day.

And I fall, I fall against the keyboard, I fall into my imagination again. The light was conspicuous by its absence, and the darkness ruins my notion of time. Seconds passed into minutes, and minutes into hours, but I still saw everything completely dark, leaving in front of me only an almost permanent blindness. But my body, even if I am sunk in an imagination corrupted by the constant nightmare of the beast lurking behind the walls, is awake. It was contradictory, but I could understand that thanks to my constant alert to an unwanted attack from that stranger, my own body decided to stay awake, even if my mind was rested.

But it was useless to understand why I could feel everything around me; even if it was the gentle touches on my head from a companion or the feeling of wood against my legs, there was only one feeling that reminded me why this life was hell.

A hot air landed on my light blue shirt, being so heavy that my own body hair stood on end, and at the same time the feeling of my skin and clothes receiving that wind that moved my little beauty and garment was so constant that only that was going to be able to wake me up. Although that would be in a normal situation, and this was not a normal situation.

Soon the hot wind became even heavier, increasing its temperature level in a matter of seconds, going from what resembled a slow and soft inhalation and exhalation to heavy sighs, accompanied by a noise similar to that made by a canine when it's keeping its mouth open. And I felt it; first it was a small drop, then another, followed by a journey of both along the contour of my shirt, generating traces of drops on my clothes. And soon, his breathing felt heavier, closer, and his saliva fell more frequently, now leaving traces indefinitely visible to anyone's eyes.

And they lips collided with my neck, I knew it by the tiny 《muak》 that was deposited on my skin, right on the occipital triangle, and soon it was another, now on the collarbone, and another, and another, and another.

I painstakingly tried to move my body, but the space around my own muscle mass seemed oppressed, forced to stay in the same place, and its mobility was practically impossible. I wouldn't even have the strength to sob, since even the surface of my face was paralyzed.

Everything stopped, their breathing, which seemed more irregular with each unwanted contact, now moved away from me, slowly and surely. I celebrated internally, thinking that, at least for today, I had been saved from this kind of entity trying to somehow taste my skin, as if I were its victim, its prey.

And then, they bit me.

It was sudden, it was painful, and it was a long period of time in which they decided to cling to my skin. They teeth, selectively, clenched and released for several seconds, but without ever letting go of my skin. My own screams, now locked deep in my chest, do not express the discomfort I feel as my muscles were compressed in the same way, and the feeling of mental ambiguity seemed to be stronger, my body had accepted this horrendous fate; to suffer the strong and marked bites of an entity whose name I do not even know.

And I woke up.

A girl had woken me up, and seeing my eyes half open, a nervous grimace formed on her cheekbones, and as she moved her blond hair with the help of her fingers, a small whisper escaped from her lips.

---We have to go, unless you want to make overtime again.

It was a barely audible whisper, and I soon realized that I had indeed fallen asleep at work.

She left, and I was left in that office, still shaking; my legs could barely stand on their own, and my arms tried to find balance with the help of the furniture.

It is not until I notice a previously unknown level of moisture on my neck that I can touch that viscous liquid between my fingers again.

Characters that could be used in this story:

League Of Legends:

-Fiddlesticks.

-Nocturne(?

-Evelynn.

I honestly don't know anymore more, bc this looks like a medium- horror story(??? maybe I was reading too much Lovecraft.

#poppa thoughs #yandere #poppa things #obsessive love #yandere x you #yandere male #lol #yandere female #yandere stories #yandere writing #yandere thoughts #yandere tendencies #yandere blog #yandere x reader

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