#like i never make edits but this had to become a reality lol

[officalgeorgestaniel]

Prepare your eyes and ears for the hardest fetus George edit of all time (flash warning)

I would love to post this to my insta but I'm worried that George will see it and get embarrassed so this is a george.staniel tumblr exclusive (at least for the time being) sjsksjsks

[regretmedaisy]

i can see you - tom riddle x fmc/reader

part II

loosely inspired by "i can see you" by taylor swift.

“I've been watchin' you for ages

And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it”

summary: She had always fancied Tom Riddle. It was an infatuation that bordered on love and obsession, that she had secretly grown and cared for, content with indulging in her fantasies and never bold enough to try and make them become reality.

When she meets him again in her adulthood, dormant longings resurface together with a newfound desire to be the object of his own devotion.

As their paths keep crossing, she starts to think he feels the same.

tags: afab mc, use of female pronouns and no descriptors (i tagged it as x reader because i guess it could be read as such if you use the same pronouns), somewhat period-accurate clothing, courtship (just a little because it's still tom riddle), fmc has a crush on tom, she's a bit anxious, a bit of fluff, explicit sexual desire, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, woman is on top.

please note that mc has a crush on tom, therefore the way she refers to him could sound a bit cheesy and exaggerated. i edited this last night and didn't read it again before posting. i'm sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes i missed.

bear with her in this one, she's a little anxious.

words: 6.7K

you can find part I here, I strongly recommend you read that one first.

this is me crawling out of my hole of shame to post this chapter.

i'm really sorry for this very late update, but the smut chapter is finally here after many days of writing (but still in time for smutober lol).

it's not crazy smut, but i hope it was worth the wait.

Part II: And I could see you up against the wall with me

She tapped her foot, pursing her red lips as she jotted a few numbers down on a parchment. She sighed, taking another folder from the pile on her side and checking if the reports corresponded. 

When Serena, her boss, had showed up that morning with two delivery men in tow, she already knew her day was going to take a detestable turn.

Serena had dropped three boxes full of last year's reports in the office and sprinted out of the door before they could say anything and try to stop her.

Apparently she had hired a cheap accountant to save money and now she had to review everything before the Ministry noticed and demanded an audit. Or rather, Serena had asked her to do it.

She was now holed up in the backroom while Will had taken her place in the main office, since Serena didn’t pay her enough to care about customers and save her from bankruptcy at the same time.

She glanced at the clock, noting that it was almost time for her usual break. She chewed the inside of her cheek and returned to the reports.

She wasn’t in the right mindset to meet Tom.

The day she had gone to see him had been like the calm before the literal storm. In the past week it had rained so heavily that she had had to give up on going out and he hadn’t come to post his letters. What had happened between them had been left unresolved.

She had replayed it so many times in her mind, at night and during idle moments in the office, picturing different ways in which it could have ended, desperately wishing she could indulge in his warm lips again.

The first few days she had fretted about it, but as the week had gone by without a word from him, she had just started to accept it as the normal course of things. Perhaps it had just been an extraordinary event, a moment that wasn’t going to repeat itself and that she needed to find contentment in. Perhaps it was supposed to be one of those memories she was going to return to in twenty years, thinking about everything she could have had, or it will sour in her mind, turning into regret while her lamenting soul grieved the possibilities of youth, the chances she had been too scared to take.

It didn’t matter that she was conscious of the anxious butterflies leading her decisions, she still didn’t want to find out if what she saw in him was just a product of her infatuated imagination.

She immersed herself in numbers, refusing to go down that rabbit hole again.

Fifteen minutes after the end of her break, a customer walked in. A beat of silence followed and then Will said, “She’s in the back.”

She almost jumped out of her seat, her heart rate picking up. She quickly smoothed her hair and sat straighter, crossing her legs.

Tom appeared in the doorway, his arm half raised as if he had wanted to knock. She pretended she had just noticed him.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Hello, Tom.” She gave him a mellow smile.

He was so good-looking, with his perfectly styled curls and black coat in the muted light of the cloudy morning. Her heart fluttered painfully.

He looked hesitant as he made his way to her and handed her a folded magazine. It was the weekly crossword.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it as her gaze met his. The way he was looking at her was so compelling it was impossible for her to divert her eyes.

He had been thinking of her, she realised, he had noticed her absence, perhaps even missed her.

“I hope I’m not disrupting your work.” His gaze trailed to the numerous papers scattered on the table.

“Not at all, a distraction is more than welcome.” The distraction of his presence was most desirable.

He drew closer, reading through them as he casually rested his hand on the back of her chair.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Maths mostly,” she replied, fiddling with the parchments to hide her nervousness.

He reached out over her shoulder to grab a folder but she placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I’d rather you didn’t. It’s still work.”

He dropped his arm. “You’re right, I apologise. I don’t wish to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“It’s fine.”

He stepped to the side, tickling her neck.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked.

She had to stop herself from grinning.

“Of course.” 

She watched him with desirous parted lips as he left. He said goodbye to Will and she heard the door closing. It was only a matter of minutes before Will came to pry.

She grabbed the crossword, flipping through the pages. He had bought her her favourite one.

As she got up to put it next to her bag, a small note fell to the ground. It was a plain piece of parchment. But as she picked it up, ready to throw it on the table with the rest of the documents, words started to appear.

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew to whom that elegant and neat handwriting belonged.

She read the note. Then read it again to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. 

“I hope to see you more often in the future.

You look stunning with that lip colour.

T.R.”

She brought her fingers to her mouth, staring at the words until each swirl of ink etched into her mind, terrified they might disappear.

Instead his message remained there, visible, tangible, real. He had taken time to write her a note, to think about something he knew she’d appreciate.

Something warm diffused in her chest, a new version of a familiar feeling, and a giggle escaped her as she realised the ridiculous effect he had on her. 

She was so engrossed in her reverie that she didn’t notice Will standing in the door until he cleared his throat. 

She quickly hid the message in her purse and  he was so considerate not to comment on it.

“How is it going?” he asked.

“Awfully slowly, these numbers are all over the place,” she huffed, returning to her chair.

He dragged a chair and sat across from her. He started bouncing his knee. “I know you’d prefer not to talk about this, but how are things between you two?”

She stopped twirling her quill. “What do you mean?”

Will shuffled awkwardly in his seat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you but I’d hate to see you hurt.”

She tilted her head to the side, disliking the territory the conversation was heading towards.

He was struggling with his words. “He never- I never saw him interested in a girl. I just want to be sure you know what you can expect from him.”

She averted her eyes. “I have considered all the options.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know, Will!” she bursted out. 

Her flare of annoyance suddenly deflated, making room for embarrassment for what he probably saw as naivety.

“I know I’m probably getting ahead of myself.”

“You are smart, I just can’t stand watching you smile at the things he writes to you.”

She feigned offence and threw a balled up paper at him. 

“When you find someone, you’ll be just as ridiculous.”

He laughed and steepled his fingers in front of him. “I’m curious to know, when did it start?”

She scrunched her eyebrows, thinking about how much she wanted to reveal. “I don’t remember exactly. It was more like a sequence of events, until one day I was anxiously waiting for him to sit at his usual spot at breakfast,” she replied with a smile. Will was smiling too.

“You and half of Hogwarts,” he said.

She chuckled. “I miss those years sometimes. Everything was simpler.”

“I used to worry about everything,” he admitted. “But fears always seem so big.”

They really did.

“What do you like about him?” he asked after a beat of silence.

It was her turn to be at a loss of words. “He’s handsome…and always so mysterious. I think I always liked him because it was easy to imagine him being exactly what I wanted.” She looked at him hesitantly, fearing judgement, but he was just listening. “But I think it’s impossible for me to dislike the real him.”

They shared a small moment of closure. She had always wished for someone she could confide in, someone that could help her see beyond the fabrications of her wary heart, and perhaps she had finally found them.

The bell chimed and Will got up. 

“Do you want to come for lunch on Sunday?” she asked.

“I’d love to. I’m sorry for earlier, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

His gaze shifted between the door and her. “Just make sure you both want the same thing.”

He went back, leaving her at the mercy of her insidious brain and foolish heart.

Throughout the afternoon she had opened the note at least three times, giggling like a schoolgirl everytime she read his words.

Her mind kept straying to what he had said.

“I’ll see you later.”

She wasn’t sure what he had actually meant. Was he just going to stop by or was he going to wait for the office to close? She wasn’t even sure she could see him today, since she expected to stay late to solve Serena’s mess. 

Will popped in. “I have to check something at the owlery. I’ll be back in a while.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

The door opened and closed and then she was submerged by stillness. It was soothing almost.

She had found out long ago that she enjoyed being alone, it freed her of any kind of expectation.

She turned up the heating with her wand and took off her jacket. Since they couldn’t light a fireplace in a room full of paper, they had refined a spell that kept the room warm and the humidity away.

It was a few minutes after the usual closing hour that the door opened again. She knew who it was.

He walked in, his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold and his lips reddened. 

“Are you still working?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m afraid it’ll take a while before I’m free to go.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said, grabbing her crossword and a quill and sitting down on a chair, bending one leg so that his ankle rested on his other knee.

Her face heated as she watched him but she didn’t say anything.

As she returned to her work, she realised that silence was a strange assistant. It felt like every sound was heightened and she was becoming keenly aware of everything that was happening. The scratching of their quill on parchment, paper being flipped as she checked the numbers or he looked for a crossword he liked, his soft breath threatening to pull her close like a magnet, her absentmindedly chipping her nail polish.

She kept throwing glances in his direction and she could feel his eyes on her from time to time.

An unspoken craving was growing between them again. She had waited long enough.

She slowly got up, gathering her reports and stacking them in a neat pile. She then took them and walked over to the shelves, conveniently passing by Riddle in doing so. 

As she stored them, his chair scraped on the ground and she felt him draw closer. She deliberately turned around, meeting his eyes.

His gaze was deep, like he was trying to read every thought that crossed her mind just by looking at her. She wasn’t going to lay them bare for him. 

He raised his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Did you get my message?”

“I did,” she replied, stepping forward and trailing her fingers down his suit jacket, feeling the fabric. “You keep mentioning it but this is the first time I’ve seen you all week.”

“It was storming all week,” he pointed out.

She tilted her head, finding his eyes again. His eagerness was palpable. “Still,” she said.

He grabbed her waist, pressing her body flush against his. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

She had thought about that moment since then.

“Tell me what you desire the most.”

What could she tell him? That she had been pining for him for so long she couldn’t imagine herself with anyone else? That she was jealous of even thinking about him with someone else? Will’s words played in her mind.

She leaned closer, murmuring against his ear. “Not until I know why you’re here, Tom.”

She left a kiss on his jaw, phantom lips brushing against his flawless skin.

“It’s a really uncomplicated answer,” he said, caressing her back.

“Explain it to me, then.”

Tender amusement tugged at the corners of his lips. “Do you really think I came here because I don’t own an owl?”

His words pulled at her heartstrings with raw delight and her mind went blank. Adrenaline was rushing through her as she listened to her impulses. It was enough, at least for now it was enough.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her hand in his hair, involuntarily tugging at the strands as she leaned closer. She could feel his warm breath as he pulled her in, gripping the silky fabric of her blouse.

She met his lips halfway, the burning touch consuming her as he pressed her against the shelves, one hand lost in her hair, the other splayed around her ribcage. 

She bit his lower lip, smiling as it elicited a groan from him and the kiss became more demanding.

It was a moment frozen in time, where she wanted to stay forever, like the scenery in a snowglobe.

“Hello?”

A man’s voice abruptly pulled them apart. She was breathless as she realised she had forgotten to lock the door. Was this a conspiracy? 

Tom was slightly panting and she left a small kiss on his neck.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered.

She used a finger to fix her smudged lipstick and went to see who had just dared to interrupt them.

There was a man standing in the office.

“We’re closed,” she said.

“But I saw the light on.”

There was a twitch in her jaw. “We are closed to the public. I must ask you to come tomorrow morning.”

He rolled his eyes and she ignored his grumbling as he left, locking the door behind him. When she went back, Tom was leaning against the table.

He turned his head towards her as she languidly got closer. She forgot pleasantries, immediately grabbing his face to kiss him again. He was quick to react, wrapping his arms around her.

His mouth trailed down, kissing her cheek, her jaw and then pressing against her neck, soft lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth. 

He grabbed her waist and spun her around, flattening her back against his chest and brushing her hair away from her neck to bite and lick her skin. His hands travelled down and he started gathering the fabric of her skirt. 

Merlin, it was finally happening. 

He caressed her inner thigh, tracing patterns and snapping the nylon of her stockings as his fingers moved excruciatingly slow.

Finally he pulled her underwear to the side, feeling the wetness between her folds with his fingers as his other hand cupped her breast.

She threw her head back against his shoulder as he stroked her clit, eliciting a sigh out of her, and she grabbed his thigh for support.

“I won’t drop you,” he murmured, amused, against her ear. He rubbed his palm over her clothed breast, the friction causing sparks to jolt through her body.

None of her fantasies came even close to what she was feeling right now.

“Should I trust you?” she asked, biting her lip to suppress a moan as he sunk one finger inside of her, his thumb still applying pressure on her clit.

“Such a great timing to ask me that,” he replied. She felt him smile on her skin.

“We don’t really know each other, Tom.” She dug her fingers into his flesh as he slipped in a second finger and started fingering her, stretching her as pleasure morphed her features. 

“And yet you are letting me do this.” He squeezed her breast, lewd wet sounds filling the room as he kept moving his fingers inside of her. 

She leaned her body weight completely on him, her legs unsteady as it was precarious the beating of her heart. 

He let out a low moan as she yanked his hair to catch his mouth, biting his lip hard to gain better access, their tongues tangling together.

He curled his fingers inside of her, an unrelenting wave of pleasure washing over her.

She stopped to imagine what it would be like if he dropped to his knees again, if he started kissing and licking her, if she could watch him at her mercy between her legs.

She realised in that moment that the fall down the precipice was inevitable. Tom had threatened to push her but she had allowed him to succeed, jumping into an abyss that felt unending but that could only allow two conclusions to her story.

What she had told Will was true. She loved the fantasy, all the glances, conversations, gestures that had never happened, that she had delighted herself with when the reality was harsher, but as she kissed him she knew that falling for the real Tom was unavoidable. Not if he kept touching her like that.

It was bound to happen, it was part of her story, the decision she was brave enough to take.

She focused on him, on the circles his thumb was drawing on her clit, on the indecent sounds falling from her lips, on his groans on her reddened skin, on him growing harder against her back. 

He pulled her hair back, tilting her head to meet her gaze. His eyes glimmered with rapture while hers were heavy-lidded, tension building inside of her. 

He didn’t take his eyes off of her, as if he wanted to memorise each detail of her, the way she looked at him, the way her lips parted slightly and the way she panted as she was nearing her orgasm.

“Just like that, darling,” he murmured, a pleased smile on his lips as he noticed she was still blushing.

She threw her head back, losing herself in the motion of his fingers, surrendering herself as blissed moans spilled out shamelessly. She squeezed his soaked fingers, and he kept moving, stroking her throughout her climax.

She panted, coming down from her apex in a flurry of emotions and flustered thoughts. He raised his wet fingers to her lips and she opened her mouth, tasting herself on her tongue as she sucked on them, never breaking eye contact.

“Good girl,” he said, holding her jaw and kissing her.

It was a slow kiss, meant to explore her depths in a different way from the breathless and unrestrained passion from before. She leaned into his palm, her hand closing around his wrist.

His arms snaked around her waist and he turned them around, pushing under her thighs to lift her on the table.

The kiss transformed again.

Teeth and tongues met with vehemence, burning urgency guiding their movements as he brought her legs around his waist and she quickly started to unbutton her blouse.

But at the third button, she stopped. 

Tom noticed the shift in her demeanour and drew back, observing her. Her eyes flew to the clock, as she had just remembered about Will.

She noticed with disappointment that they had no time.

“What is it?” he asked. She didn’t miss the urgent tone of his question.

“Will will be back any time now,” she replied, leaving a peck on his lips. 

He cleared his throat and stepped back, composing himself. She got off the table and

cool hands unexpectedly reached her again, adjusting her clothes and stockings. She shivered at the contact.

He smoothed her skirt and put his coat back on, watching her as she scribbled something on a piece of paper and gave it to him.

“If you want to stop by one of these days.”

“I remember where you live,” he replied, reading the address she had written down.

She shrugged, holding out one finger to wipe away the lipstick at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you have to go back to work?”

“I was supposed to meet with a potential supplier, so yes.”

“I’d stop by the bathroom before,” she advised, gesturing for him to go as she herself needed to compose herself again.

She braced herself against the threshold, leaning her head on the hard wood as she watched him unlock the door and leave. 

Then she was alone, finally finding an answer in the cluster of hypotheses that had tormented her mind.

Two days later, as she was returning from her meeting with Serena, she found Tom waiting for her.

He was talking to Will and they both turned to her as she entered, feeling tremendously self-conscious.

“How is Serena?” Will asked.

“Dim-witted as always,” she replied, earning a laugh from Will.

Her eyes trailed to Riddle, holding an unspoken question. 

Will seemed to notice because he stepped forwards.

“It’s quite late, you can go if you want, I’ll close.”

Tom didn’t wait for him to repeat himself, pushing down the handle and holding the door open for her.

She mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him and followed Tom outside. Once in the street, she huddled herself in her coat and took the arm he was offering her. 

“May I walk you home?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, a little breathy, still not immune to the chivalrous manners he always had with her.

They strolled through the streets, passing by scarcer and scarcer people as the stores emptied and everyone returned home seeking a tranquil evening.

She held his arm tightly, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of his coat.

The first time they had walked together it had felt like an accident, a singular mistake in the already waved threads of her life. This time, she yearned for so much more than she wanted for the error to repeat itself; she was willing to cut the strings herself and tie them back together, as messy as it might have looked. 

They crossed the road and he gently put a hand on her waist, pushing her away from the pavement. 

“Would you fancy dinner?” he asked. There was a foreign quality in his voice and when she turned to look at him, he averted his eyes. She blinked bewildered. Was he nervous?

“I’d love to,” she replied and she noticed his chest rising like he had just begun breathing again. “But not tonight.”

An almost imperceptible smile cleared his expression at her answer and she leaned her head on his shoulder, basking in his mere presence.

When they reached her front door, she looked for her keys with embarrassingly clammy hands. 

As she lifted her head to ask Tom if he wanted to stay, she found his eyes impatiently boring into her bag. 

“Would you-”

His gaze snapped to her, serious and scorching. “Don’t even ask.”

Something coiled between her legs at the way he was looking at her. She nodded and walked up the few stairs to her door, unlocking it.

“Second floor,” she said, more to fill the silence than anything else.

They stepped into the building, the sound of her heels and the soles of his shoes hitting the stone ricocheting through the empty hall.

She turned to gesture to him to follow her when he grabbed her face, kissing her as he pushed her against the wall by the foot of the stairs. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging at it just as she suspected he loved by the way he always pressed himself harder against her. 

He curved his palm around her cheek, better angling her face as their tongues met.

“I have a nosy neighbour,” she said after they pulled apart to catch their breath. “She is probably spying on us through her peephole.”

Tom didn’t think twice about it, taking her hand and leading her up to the second floor. She stifled a laugh as she unlocked the door, Tom’s lips skimming against her neck as she did, and was left breathless when he closed it unceremoniously behind them, resuming from where they had been interrupted.

As she dropped her bag and grabbed his waist, walking backwards into her living room, she remembered there were clothes somewhere - perhaps in the bathroom but she wasn’t sure - that she had forgotten to put away yesterday.

In any case, Tom didn’t look particularly interested in how tidy she was.

They quickly took off each other's coats and discarded them on the floor.

He sat on her sofa, pulling her down with him.

She was straddling him, her knees digging into the plush cushions as his hands appreciatively caressed her back, moving up and down and occasionally squeezing. She lit the fireplace with a wave of her hand.

She rocked her hips, rubbing against him and eliciting a long awaited moan from him. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, their lips collading so hard she was sure she cut him.

She helped him out of his jacket and vest and undid his tie, smoothing her hands on his white button-down.

“I’ve waited too long,” she said, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and grinding against him. Her hands disappeared under his undershirt and ran over his pale chest, lightly scratching his skin.

“Slowly, my dear. We will get there,” he replied between kisses.

His palms kept tracing her thighs and his face buried in her neck, nibbling at the thin skin.

When she was a small girl, before she discovered sex, Tom Riddle was just a boy she liked. During puberty, sharing stories and questions with her friends, she started to understand what was the sensation that passed through her everytime she was close to him, the one that made her cheeks redden and her mind go somewhere she wasn’t yet comfortable with.

As an adult, sexual relations weren’t unfamiliar to her, but this carnal longing, the need of a physicality that went beyond her skin touching his, was.

He opened her blouse, revealing her silk slip and bra underneath.

She wanted to touch his soul, to hold it and comprehend it.

Her eyes fell on the tattoo on his forearm, black tendrils of ink in the shape of a serpent slithering out of a skull.

“Does this have a meaning?” she asked.

He followed her gaze, blinking surprised at her question. “It does.”

“Am I prying too much if I say I’m curious to learn it?”

He bit his lip, opening and closing his fist as if he was scrambling for words. Or perhaps he was just determining if he could trust her.

“It’s a reinterpretation of the ouroboros, the snake eating its own tail,” he finally said. “It symbolises eternity and the renewal of the being after rebirth.”

She traced her fingers on his skin, following the outline of the snake. “And what does your interpretation mean?”

“There is time to talk about it later,” he whispered, his teeth biting her neck and sinking lower, kissing her collarbone and her sternum, moving the fabric covering her breasts to the side.

She let go of the subject. She knew what it meant not being comfortable sharing your life.

He held one breast between his fingers, latching his mouth over the other, sucking her nipple and twirling his tongue around it.

She moaned, rolling her hips faster as he revered her bosom, the cold air hitting her moist skin and making her shiver as he took her other nipple in his mouth, lightly tugging at it until she reached the point where pleasure and discomfort mixed.

“Since we are in the mood for confessions…” she said between moans. He raised his head and looked at her waiting for her to continue. She hesitated, collecting all her courage.

“Why did you pursue me?”

His eyes softened, glimmering with fondness. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Because there is something extremely valuable in your devotion.” His voice was an intimate murmur, a confession no one else could hear.

She freezed, turning her head to the side to hide her mortification.

He took her chin, searching for her eyes until she finally gave in.

“Don’t be embarrassed, darling, I respect it, I understand it. Obsession keeps us alive, it’s what drives us.”

She swallowed the lump of embarrassment in her throat. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Being the object of the desire of such a woman? Of a witch? I do,” he replied, and he was so direct and earnest that her heart swelled.

He lifted her to sit on the sofa, sliding down on his knees on the floor and taking off his shirt and vest. She remained silent as he rolled down her tights, his lips gliding down her smooth skin. He unbuttoned her skirt and helped her out of it, tracing patterns on her inner thigh as his other hand felt her damp underwear.

She tensed, something tightening in her lower abdomen and her eyes fell down to his trousers.

He kissed the crease of the thigh, like he had done that one time at Borgin and Burkes, but this time she wasn’t letting anyone interrupt them. 

He took off her underwear, his movements deliberately slow, and kissed her everywhere, except there.

His lips felt hot on her skin, searing her flesh like she had often dreamed about, carving his way into her body the same way he had done with her mind and heart, until her entire soul was consumed by him, until he could finally close that fist and feel her in a way nobody had before. 

Her breath hitched as he delicately kissed her mound, spreading her legs apart. She leaned her head against the backrest, licking her lips with anticipation, and she couldn’t contain a whimper as he felt his tongue dragging down her slit, sweet and cruel.

He took her clit in his mouth, sucking on it as his hand splayed on her abdomen to keep her still.

She squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed.

“Look at me, darling,” he murmured against her folds. His breath was warm and pleasant.

She obliged, meeting his devilish grinning figure between her legs. She was incapable of looking away as he resumed his work, she didn’t want to look away. She wanted to watch him, finally allowing herself to fully indulge in him, in what he wished to do for her.

She observed his curved eyelashes, the way his perceptive eyes followed her reactions, refining his movements to please her better.

He sucked her labia and she moaned loudly, the idea of him enjoying this as much as her being exhilarating.

He threw her leg on his shoulder, resulting in her figure sliding down the cushions and him gaining better access to her. 

His tongue probed her entrance as he coated his fingers in her wetness. He slipped one finger in, working her thoroughly as she gripped his hair, keeping his head in place.

He inserted a second finger, his tongue on her clit moving accordingly to the delighted sounds she emitted.

“Tom,” she cried urgently as she tried to press herself harder against him.

He curled his fingers inside of her and her hips jolted upwards, arching her back to an uncomfortable angle as she reached her orgasm with lascivious bliss, her obscene moans matching the wet sounds he produced by licking her until she came down from her climax.

“Tom,” she said again, so breathless her voice was a raspy whisper.

“I know,” he said, kissing her leg and inhaling deeply, like he was trying to commit the moment to memory.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean as she let her watch.

She gently pushed him onto the carpet, bracing her hands on his shoulder as she sat on top of him. The fire was burning, enveloping their almost naked figures in warm orange light, heating their already scalding skin.

She took off her blouse with quivery hands, his gaze tracing her naked form that was slowly revealing itself. She hooked her fingers into the straps of her slip, pulling it down and then getting rid of it altogether. His hands on her waist tensed as she did the same for her bra.

Her lips parted as he touched her breast with both hands, kneading the soft flesh, tracing her areolae. 

She undid his trousers, pulling down the fabric until they were both completely naked. She took him in her hand, her fingers closing tentatively around him. Her hand started sliding up and down, her pace getting quicker and more confident as moans escaped him. She brushed her thumb on his tip, her eyes admiring what was in front of her. His lips were swollen, residue of her lipstick still on them, his hair was tousled, curls falling disorderly on his forehead, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looked at her. She felt a rush of satisfaction in knowing his current state was her doing, that she had enough power over him to ruin his flawless exterior, to make him want her to do it. 

His lips caught hers and he gently pushed her hand away. 

What happened after felt like rehearsed choreography, something so familiar it was impossible to forget. Their bodies moved together, their movements responsive to each other, doing and touching exactly where it mattered.

She pushed herself up on her knees, slowly lowering herself until she sank down on him completely, shuddering breaths escaping her lips.

His jaw was tense as she placed a hand on his shoulder for support, positioning herself better.

She didn’t break eye contact as she rolled her hips, soaking in the hazy blue of his eyes, in every twitch of his jaw and emotion he was feeling as she increased her pace, in his voice murmuring her name against her ear as his hands squeezed her tights and traced her back.

Skin slapped against skin, his touch inebriating as he felt every part of her, caressing her, massaging her, kissing her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Almost.

His hand dipped between her legs again, stroking her clit as she rocked her hips, eliciting groans from both of them.

Sentiment and pleasure fused together in an exhilarating moment, seared in her mind and flesh forever.

She kissed him again - she could never get tired of that - and bit his lower lip roughly as his other hand went to her breast again, pulling at her nipple. 

She threw her head back, letting his mouth scrape over her neck and chest, leaving behind scorching wet kisses. Or perhaps those were marks reddening her skin, she didn’t particularly care.

He gripped her waist, thrusting upwards as she held onto him tighter. Her nails drew half-moons into his back and she bit his neck, the fibres of the carpet scratching her knees.

The lights in the flat fluttered momentarily.

His fingers increased the pressure on her clit as his thrusts grew in intensity with one purpose in mind. 

She bit her lip, trying to hold back, to prolong this instant of pure bliss before she inevitably plummeted onto the other side.

She arched her back, moving accordingly to his rhythm, her hips bucking erratic as she rubbed against his pelvis. 

And then she fell down, unrestrained, her walls closing around him as she moaned uncontrollably. He didn’t stop, drawing circles on her sensitive skin until her breath found a semblance of steadiness again. 

“You did so good,” he whispered against her forehead, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away.

She slumped against him, her hands grabbing onto his biceps as he chased his own pleasure, his movements turning frantic, losing his rhythm.

She found herself murmuring against his skin the same things she had never had the courage to say out loud, not even to herself. She wasn’t sure he was even listening to her, engrossed as he was, but it didn’t matter.

He squeezed her tights once and she understood, rolling to the side as he deftly touched himself, fast strokes that culminated in white spurts all over his hand. She watched him mesmerised

He turned to look at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The fire casted shadows on his gorgeous face. 

They stayed like that for a long moment, gazing into each other, trying to guess what the other was thinking, making sense of what remained of themselves after what had just happened.

Did it have the same momentous effect on both of them? Or was it just her that knew she couldn’t go back to being acquaintances after this?

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” she asked. Her voice sounded faint and husky to her own ears.

“I do,” he replied without a second of hesitation.

They didn’t get up, instead resting against the foot of her sofa. She curled up against him as his hand traced indistinct patterns on her skin, remaining in this haze of indiscernible unspoken feelings they were both still trying to find a name for. 

When she woke up the next morning he was gone. As she took in the cold sheets and missing clothes, her heart threatened to crack.

She got up groggily, conclusions already forming in her mind, building the most pessimistic of pictures.

She felt anxious as she wore her robe and opened the door, heading straight for the bathroom. Halfway down the corridor, the sound of someone flipping through a newspaper halted her in her steps.

She stepped into the kitchen, finding Tom sitting in a chair with his legs crossed.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she said back, adjusting the belt of her robe. 

She noticed he had made breakfast, a steaming coffee pot, kept warm by magic, and some pastries she had never bought waiting for her on the table. 

She turned to take a mug from a cabinet so that she could hide her smitten smile. When she closed the cabinet, she found him looking at her.

There was no need for words.

“Where did you get that?” she asked as she poured herself some coffee, referring to the newspaper. 

“I stole it from your neighbour, I hope she won’t mind.”

She laughed. “So you know how to make a joke.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She sat next to him, crossing her legs. She perhaps needed to rethink her choice of slippers.

“You were always so serious growing up.”

She put a spoonful of sugar in her coffee. 

“That never seemed to deter you.”

“It doesn’t.”

He took a sip of his own coffee. “Good.”

“Does it deter you, knowing how I feel?”

He blinked. “It never had. It makes it more interesting if I have to be honest.”

She blushed, scared to ask the next question.

“How long have you known?”

He got up, brushing his knuckles on her cheek.

“Long enough to see you for who you truly are.” 

He bent to give her a chaste kiss. “I should go, the shop opens in half an hour.”

He put on his coat and grabbed his leather gloves from his pocket. She turned in her chair, treasuring the last few moments of him in her apartment.

“There’s still a lot you haven’t learned yet.” 

She refused to be an open book to him. There was so much about her that was still incomprehensible even to her and too much she wanted to show him on her own terms. She wanted to be enigmatic, to drive him mad.

“I know.”

Her disappointment was visible on her face as she was met with his silence. She had wanted to continue that conversation, to learn what he had observed.

Instead he opened her front door, throwing her one last glance, heavy with unsaid intention she hoped she wasn’t imagining, before leaving. 

She had almost finished her breakfast when she noticed a small note under the newspaper he had left behind. She grabbed it faster than she was willing to admit, almost knocking over her cup in the process, and unfolded it.

“Dinner tonight?

I’ll pick you up at eight.

T.R.”

the last part is a bonus scene i wanted to write to apologize for my tardiness. tom is a little different, but I hope he isn't too out of character.

i honestly had so much fun writing this short story and exploring a different tom from the one i usually read and write about. i hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading!

[lightlycareless]

Hiii 🤍

So I got this idea from one of your one-shots, the one where naoya and y/n are doing it in a mission😭

So they are secretly dating in that right ? And I thought about them in highschool AU secretly dating too🤭 And you know her siblings and friends finding out eventually, like I really wanna see naoya and y/n sneaking outttt and those stuff yk, kinda like a forbidden romance 😭

Have a good day 🤍🤍🤍 byeee!

Hellooooooooooo anon hehehe

Thank you for liking that dirty piece of mine 😏 super indulgent, of course. Glad to have it out of my system. (Edit: it said sister, wtf lol)

So anything highschool au related is like my weakness, specially if I get to write things like secretly dating aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Anyways this is a two part story!!! heheheh Didn't mean to, but after that ending, I just had to. :) I hope you enjoy it!!

warnings: none. au. highschool. Naoya is like maybe super ooc, but he adores you so. 💖 it's only expected. FLUFFFFFFF.

Happy reading!!!

Secretly dating Naoya during high school is naturally filled with clandestine meet ups here and there, made possible by you asking for permission to go the “restroom” in the middle of class, only to head up straight to the designated place of reunion: right around the corner of a distant hallway and beneath the stairs, pulled into a tight embrace as soon as you cross his sight, and subsequentially letting you know how much he missed you and how dreadful it was to be away from you for even one second!

“I missed you too!” you would exclaim, wrapping your arms around his neck and attempting to pull him down for a kiss—you always hated how he forced you to stand on your tip toes, all for his seeming enjoyment. “Lean down a bit, I can't kiss you like this!”

But Naoya would only chuckle, letting you struggle a bit more until he finally obliged, taking your lips into another quick kiss before freeing you once again, to meet up later, that is.

“See you for lunch, princess.”

“… Only if you promise to not be mean…”

Naoya laughs.

Even if the two were meant to keep this a secret from the outside world, that didn't stop you from indulging in the things you always wanted to do with him, such as packing an extra box of lunch for him, obviously handmade by you, meeting up at the rooftop of whatever building was empty to have it together, and if he felt in the mood for such, feed him as well.

“Wait, before we eat, close your eyes.”

You’re no longer taken aback by requests of this nature, if anything, it excited you, so you quickly obeyed soon after. Naoya would then take hold of your hands, gently placing a box on them before asking you to open your eyes—a gasp ensued at the sight of your gift.

“No way! These are—how did you even get them?! I thought they were sold out!”

These were none other than the special edition tiramisu mochi your favorite store made just a few weeks ago. The desire to go and get a few was there, but your responsibilities at school were far more demanding, and so, you’d come to dejectedly accept the reality that you might never have them, not even a taste…

Luckily, Naoya's adoration for you (and determination to make you happy) was far bigger than anything else, literally, and with the possibilities he had… all that he needed to do was make a few phone calls and he’d soon have the happiest girlfriend in the world.

“Nothing's sold out for me” Naoya sappily admits, but to you, who was completely enamored by him at this point, was only the sweetest response yet.

“Oh, Naoya, thank you so much!!” You cry, taking him into a hug and attacking him with kisses all over his face. His cheeks become a flustering mess, and yet, does nothing to remove you. “I can't wait to try them!”

“Just be sure to eat first, though. I don't want you getting all full with mochi and then complaining you’re hungry…” he teases with a smirk.

You pout. “It was just one time!” that you wanted to recall. “But alright…”

Naoya kisses your cheek.

“Don't be upset, princess. If you want more, I'll get you more”

As long as you give him more of those sweet kisses, or more like tiramisu kisses, as they’d become known later on.

These were nothing more than just a few examples of the things you liked to do with Naoya. However, not everything would be completely enjoyable, and just as expected of life, the two were bound to eventually do things neither liked in its entirety—nothing too extreme, just… tedious by itself. Like studying.

Even then, however, Naoya always did his best to help you. Since he was the best student out of the two, he could easily provide you with the help you needed to improve your notes—if not the motivation to do so.

It was silly to think how Naoya at one point once hated doing this with you, or more like was oblivious to your actual intents when asking him for help. Back when the two were just barely staring to know each other, you'd come to him with the pretense of needing guidance with one of the many subjects you were struggling with.

And Naoya, was blunt and blind as he was with these social matters, would only limit himself to answer the follow:

“Why are you asking me? Isn’t your sister bright or something?”

It took a great deal for his friend Ranta to not slap the stubbornness out of him, instead, he managed to explain what you were truly attempting to do with these approaches. You can rest assured knowing Naoya felt like an absolute idiot after discovering this. Thankfully, now that he knows what you mean, he doesn’t let any opportunity pass. In fact, he even offers himself up for the job—even when you profusely refused.

“I don't want to study anymore…!!” You'd dramatically cry, resting your head onto your arms and down on the desk; simply continuing to whine. “I hate this!”

“Come on, princess; just a bit more and you’re done.” Naoya attempts to comfort, removing one of your hair strands covering your face. He enjoyed this silly side of you, thought it unbearably adorable… but he preferred you to be happy. By far.

“No. I don't want to; I don't care if I fail, I'm not doing this anymore! And nothing will convince me otherwise!”

“Are you sure?” He smirks, placing his arm around your waist and leaning closer to you.

“Yes!” You try your best to remain unaffected, even if deep within, you were desperately longing to bask in his touch.

“Not even a kiss?”

“Nope! Not even that!” You refuted his suggestions. “Don’t try to convince me otherwise, it won’t work!”

Well, you’d have to do better than that if you wished to stop Naoya.

“Oh, really? Not even…” Naoya then reaches for his bag to swiftly take out a small Gengar plushie. Coincidentally, the same one you saw at the mall a few days ago: the newest one Pokémon Center had released, and naturally, you’ve been dying to get. “…For this?”

You press you lips together, trying your best to control your impulses and freak out about the gift—but there’s one thing you always forget about Naoya: is that you can’t ignore his enchantments, and soon, you attempt to seize the plushie from his hands, only to once again, fail to acknowledge his impressive speed, a snarky smile on his lips as he imposes distance between the two.

“Nuh, uh, princess. You have to keep studying if you want this.”

“Just—give it to me!” you gasp, trying to reach for his arm once again, but he just keeps straying further and further away from you. In fact, he actually stands up to make it even harder for you!

But that doesn’t stop you, no, not at all, for you respond with the same energy, quick to stand up as well and throw yourself towards him in one last attempt to seize the plushie and claim what is rightfully yours!

If you hadn’t accidentally tripped over, that is, by innocently getting your feet stuck with the legs of a nearby chair and tripping onto Naoya, who instinctively grabs you and begins to worry about your wellbeing, Gengar effectively out of your mind.

Just like you—however, it was more by the fact you were embarrassed to have done such a thing, feeling nothing but stupid by allowing yourself to fall victim to such silly games, as seen in the redness of your face.

“Stop it!” you breathe, trying to free yourself from his arms, hide from his sight. But he holds you in place, fearing you were hurt. “Let me go!”

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

“I’m—I’m fine, just—just let me go!” you whine, and it’s a good thing that Naoya knows you so well to the point of understanding you don’t really mean to get away from him, but rather, hide your shame—which he hopes to ease by finally giving you the plushie of your desire.

“Don’t be upset, Y/N. It was just an accident.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head, you pout.

“This was so humiliating…” you lament. “I feel like a child! Oh, I’m so undeserving of this…”

“Hmmm, if it’s worth anything, today wasn’t that bad. In fact, remember that one time when you ate chocolate ice cream and—"

“Naoya!” you gasp, he laughs.

“Alright, alright!” He cups your face, pressing your cheeks together and making you pout. “I’m just joking; trying to make you feel better, you know?”

“Doesn’t seem like it…” you frown.

“I adore all of you. Even the embarrassing parts.” Naoya leans closer to your face, rubbing his nose against yours. Your heart swoons. “So don’t torture yourself about it.”

“…I adore you too.” You confess, eager to already tell him you loved him, but only when the time was right. When he felt ready.

“Let’s take a break and get something to eat, yeah?”

 “How about ramen? I bought some packets that are supposed to be super good the other day at the market. We can just get some hot water from the cafeteria and done!”

“You know how I feel about that type of food. I’d rather take you out to an actual restaurant.” He raises an eyebrow.

“I would like to but… we need to plan these things with time so we won’t be seen” you dolefully remind him, he sighs.

“Well, nothing beats a date at school.” Naoya then jests, you chuckle.

He then cups your face once again, leaning down to kiss you tenderly.

Saying it’s a nuisance falls short to how you actually felt about this whole ordeal. About having to walk around eggshells just to go out on dates, but until both were ready to let the world known of your relationship, (or prepare for the dramatic response you know your family and friends will have to it) this will have to do.

Unless you two were to lower your guards and let someone else win you to it, hinted by the sound of a shutter coming from the door, followed by a bright flash that made you and Naoya freeze instantly, eyes wide as both slowly turned over to the entrance, loathing all of the implications this moment provided, completely petrified when realizing it was much, much worse than anything you imagined.

For standing by the door frame, stood the culprits behind it all, the last people you wanted to know of your relationship with Naoya: Gojo and Geto—the latter holding the newest bane of your existence, and the former with his mouth agape, eventually letting out a loud shriek that snapped the two out of trance.

“Wait, Satoru, Suguru—It’s not—It’s not what you think!!” You scrambled to control the situation, to no avail, for it was exactly what they thought!

The same information that had them running into the hallways and heading to God knows where, certainly not to keep this secret hidden from the world.

It was only a matter of time before the whole school knew, especially if there was a photo involved! And after that happens, you and Naoya would be forced to give out explanations to everyone that dared ask. If fate found it to be merciful on you, then the only problems you'll have will come through your friends.

If not… then it’d also be a matter of dealing with his and your family as well.

The mere thought of it sends shivers through your spine—mind scurrying to envision all kinds of scenarios possible.

“Do you think they’ll—they’ll take me out from school?” you fretted. Naoya swallows, unsure.

Guess both will have to wait and see what the future has unwittingly prepared for the two—until then, you’d prepare the speech you’ll inevitably give your parents and his in hope of defending your relationship.

…

Or at least, the possibility of remaining in contact with Naoya, if settling for the worst.

I realized that I wrote Naoya doing 1000 things for Y/N. But in my defense, Naoya is the type to give you good things and you're the type to give him good times? If that makes sense. I mean, he has a lot of money, and you're actually allowed to live a normal human life so, complementing each other!!! hahaha

Anyways, what a shocker. Who would've guessed that high school bullies Gojo and Geto were to find out you were dating Naoya first? UGH HAHHAAHHA It was only a matter of time tbh. Though I do fear for their life 💀💀💀💀💀💀

Well, since I love this concept so much be sure that I will write more about it. Or just about HS in general, agjkhasjkgas I love it 😭

Thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Can't wait to write the second part, the.... revelation and everything that will ensue. I wonder if they'll make it out of this alive? Who knows!! hehe.

Take care and hope to see you soon!!!

[deathbxnny]

hello! aventurine, blade and sunday with a teen!reader like margarita blankenheim?

dont know if youre into ec, but its shocking that margarita is canonically 16💀

anyways, reader is very skilled at making poisons, are often in denial about the reality they live in and pretending that theyre happy despite not being happy at all and mostly pretending that their problems dont exit at all, often comparing themselves to a “doll” due to the prolonged explotation and neglect,and much like sunday, they believe that sleep and dreams will make other people and themselves happy

Despite my deep obsession with Vocaloid and Hatsune Miku in general, I have to admit that I never really got into the EC lore, despite still knowing the lyrics to all songs by heart lol. (If you play "Madness of Duke Venomania" at my funeral and I DON'T wake up... then you'll know that I've truly left you guys-)

After post edit: I misread this request and accidentally made it into a romantic relationship with an Aged up reader!! I'm sorry for that Anon but hope this is okay anyways!! :((

Content: Reader is kind of delusional/crazy?, vague mentions of non-descriptive neglect, mostly bitter sweet, romantic relationship, kind of suicidal descriptions in Blades part?, vague brain washing in Sunday's part, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》BLADE

Blade didn't get along with you at first. Mainly because he thought that your insistence on escaping reality was rather futile and pathetic. He saw dreams as a waste of time, always seeking the comfort of the dark reality he was forced to live through to find his way on the dark path he treaded.

And yet, over time and through the many missions you were sent on together, he learned of your own cruel fate and past, one filled with a loveless, neglected existence, akin to a broken, thrown away doll you often compared yourself with. He felt his emotions develop in odd ways for you, a mutual understanding despite your stark differences leading you into an aimless relationship only the two of you could comprehend.

Despite your lack of belief in yourself, that you often hid in utopian daydreams, he still found your talent for poisons rather interesting and even impressive. He had requested a vial of the worst poison you could make once, drinking it all in one go after a warm thank you. It didn't kill him, ofcourse, yet the pain of momentary death by your own hands was enough to drive him into another, much deeper level of appreciation and love for you.

》AVENTURINE

Aventurine understood you from day one, even if he didn't agree with all of your views. He knew the yearning for freedom all too well. He, too, attempted to escape all his troubles behind the mask of a sly gambler, the illusion, however, often shattered by the branding on his neck. You two bond over this silent feeling of helplessness as you try and find your way out of the hell that life created for you. This is what made you become an unlikely couple over time.

He enjoys spoiling you with all he has, perhaps as a way to compensate for the many trips and travels he has to take. It's also a way for him to show his deepest appreciation for your existence in his life, one he doesn't take for granted. He definitely funds your love for poison making, even if he doesn't fully understand why you enjoy it. He, however, views it as his own love for gambling, simply a coping mechanism, which makes him not question it any further than that.

With that said, he views himself as a doll as well, in a way, one especially crafted to be at your side. And yet... if the world eventually teared your strings in different directions, whether it be through the actions of other or even his own, he hoped this momentary solitude you two attained was enough to prove that you are more than your broken past.

》SUNDAY

Oh, how Sunday adored you from day one. You matched his ideals and understood him perfectly. You didn't put him down for his opinions, nor did you judge him for them. Your views were the same, after all. Dreams are an escape from the harsh reality that the "weak" couldn't handle. So where was the harm in coddling and keeping them safe in a realm far from it all? He saw himself as your savior through his plans, one's he eventually crafted to fit your perfect world. He wanted to make you happy, finally repaying you for the love and kindness you showed him.

He doesn't let you view yourself as a doll and often gently lectures you into seeing yourself as his "angel" instead. Every God needed a messenger, after all. Sunday also tries healing you from your broken past, attempting to undo years on years of heartache and pain all on his own. And he KNOWS he can do it one way or another, even going as far as using his tuning ability on you to help. He doesn't see anything wrong with it anyway, since it helps you feel much better, doesn't it?

Your love for poison making confuses him at first... but over time, he sees it as rather useful for the "elimination" of people who cross you both. Don't worry about some of your vials going missing. Just dream on and be happy, just like he always tells you to.

Alrightttt, I hope this was okay, Anon, and thank you again for the request!! (Sorry again for messing up the request, I haven't slept in a while😭😭😭)

[heyyyyyybuttercup]

I'm sorry but I hate the dikinbaus episode. I just can't understand how Kenny could possibly be so mean to Butters when he should be one of the kids that should understand him a bit more (and that's saying the least after Going Native and the fact that he in SOT preserved the clothing he had from there??? It was indeed important for him and Butters) and the fact that HE from all people was a lazy ass worker? He's hardworking! it's like Trey and Matt forgot they made an episode where Kenny worked at City Wok underpaid bc Lu Kim was broke and all of that effort in order to buy Karen a doll, and the point of him working was to prove to his parents that he won't be like them and make poor excuses like the economy, the society or that is just their reality as poor people. Kenny is the example of someone who will defy his own reality, he WON'T stay poor and he in fact becomes a MILLIONAIRE in PC in BOTH FUTURES, and what do you need to achieve that? HARD WORK

Yes in this part they're using Kenny's poor situation to convince Butters to invest in them and knowing how Cartman is, he told Kenny the plan beforehand (explaining why he says tf at the end because being so harsh about him was not in the plan and it was just Cartman bring Cartman) and that's why he's just there staring at Butters in a mindset of "please I'm just poor you gotta give me a hand" and EVEN if he doesn't actually believe this, it just shows how he will use his situation to his advantage?? Which is not very Kenny like to begin with. I genuinely believe that he wouldn't want anyone to be in his situation with how much he's mocked for it so it doesn't make sense that he will just use it like that. This could lead to an analysis about Kenny's morals tbh but also what puts me off about this is that he won't only use his situation to his advantage but ALSO use it to damage Butters because of course they weren't gen thinking they'd make a business or wtw, they were ACTIVELY screwing over him and that just pisses me off bc this is the first time he ever does this (outside if Princess Kenny). Kenny is known to be loyal to his friends and yeah he and Butters might not be friends you can say but he's not Cartman, he wouldn't just screw over people for his own benefit...

Or will he?

This part also puts me off and you could wonder why. After Cartman says this Kenny just looks around like saying "mmm ur right huh I didn't think about it dude" instead of a more reasonable answer like "of course im sick do you think I like this??" Or could be him masking but I just think this is the creators mistake lol

Kenny never got punished in the episode like Cartman "does" but this definitely cracks the friendship he could possibly have with Butters because unlike everyone, Kenny has never done active harm to him until NOW. And he wasn't just following along like always, he was Cartman's right hand man on this, that's simply different. It's like they forgot they made Going Native smh

Tldr: Kenny should've emphasized with Butters in this one, not taken Cartman's size just because it's "fun". Maybe the creators wanted to reward him because it was his birthday (the release date) but this was not the way imo

Edit: I elaborated a tiny bit more in the comments!

[yoshi-disney]

I wanted to write a Arcane CaitVi "The Wolverine (2013)" style au/S2 rewrite, what do you think??

(For context, in that scene where Caitlyn shoots at Isha and Jinx, she accidently shoots Vi in the shoulder, Jinx shimmer dashes Vi away, Caitlyn starts screaming because she thought she'd just murdered Vi, and leaves Piltover. Vi is alive tho lol. Also this is a first draft so this will be edited if/when I decide to publish)

How could she have let this happen? How could she have let herself fall so far, she thought as she watched her bullet pierce the shoulder of Vi, her sweet Vi. Vi's yell of pain seeped its way into Caitlyn's mind as Vi fell to her knees, blood gushing from the wound. Jinx looked at Caitlyn, then to Vi, Caitlyn was too stunned to speak, so Jinx took the opportunity and took Vi in her arms, and shimmer dashed herself, Vi, and the child away. Vi was gone now, and Caitlyn, in her anger, frustration, and vengeance, killed her. What could she say to that? She promised Vi she wouldn't change, Caitlyn had broken that promise, and now, it got her killed. Memories of Vi came flooding back to her, all the memories she thought one day they could've made together. All Caitlyn could do at this point was fall to her knees, and scream. Caitlyn was inconsolable after that. She cried as she met up with the others to end the mission, cried as she dragged herself home, cried as her father held her throughout the night, cried as she laid in bed, waiting till morning to see if all of this was just a bad dream, and she once again cried when reality hit her. Caitlyn stayed in bed for the rest of the week, barely touching any food given to her. She held a violet in her hand, caressing it and kissing it on her worst days, those days where guilt would take over and cause her to fall apart. One day she heard Ambessa Medara addressing her father, saying something about her becoming a commander, but then she heard her father belt out, "FOR GLORYS SAKE GIVE HER SOME TIME!!" He yelled. Caitlyn had never heard her father yell that loud before but she was glad he did, the last thing she needed right now was even more responsibilities. Just as soon Tobias entered her room with a saddened look on his face. "What was that about?" Caitlyn asked. "Ambessa's been adamant about you becoming the Commander of the Enforcers." Tobias said. Cait, still not looking at her father, sighed deeply. "What did you say?" She asked. "I told her that, well, you're not ready, and to piss off for good measure." Cait cracked a smirk at that. Tobias smirked as well and patted his daughter on the shoulder. "How are you feeling?" Tobias asked. "I miss Vi," Caitlyn said. Tobias nodded, understanding. "I'm sorry I was so, harsh to her when she was here." Tobias said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Caitlyn had yet to tell him all that had happened that day, all Tobias knew was that Vi had died on their mission to kill Jinx, the murderer of his wife, and his daughter's mother, and the deaths of her mom and apparent best friend broke Caitlyn to the core. He remembers the night Caitlyn came home, without Vi. She wouldn't stop crying, gods that sound was haunting to his mind, all he could do was hug her, and make her comfortable in her time of grief, keeping the world away until his daughter was ready to face it again, which could be a long time, but he'll wait for as long as his daughter needs. "Would you like anything?" Tobias asked. Caitlyn remained silent for a few moments until saying, "I could use some soup," she said. Tobias nodded and kissed his daughters forehead. Little did he know that this would be the last time he saw his daughter for 7 months, because when he returned, Caitlyn was no longer in bed, in fact, she was nowhere to be found in Piltover.

Caitlyn was gathering violets from the garden, creating a bouquet to remind herself of her frie, no, love's name. She had come to love Vi, and without her, the color in her life was gone, there was nothing left but black and white, except for the color of violets, her favorite color and flower. And every now and then a certain tint of red would pierce through her dark thoughts. As the scent of violets wafted up to her, she remembers that day before they spoke to the council, the way Vi looked at her, the joy in her expression, the calm. And it almost made her fall to her knees, but she had to keep going, to the airships, she needed to leave. She needed to find someplace new, start over, she had taken a large amount of her inheritance with her, enough to start a life in a new land. She put on a black cloak and snuck into Piltover Station, and bought a ticket out, she doesn't care where, just out. And as she entered the airship and it took off, Caitlyn took a deep breath, and for the first time in a while, had a dreamless sleep.

Cait awoke in her bed, an odd pain in her shoulder but nothing that some ice in the morning couldn't fix, she looked around, it was almost like she had never left, like her mother was never dead, "like I never shot Vi" she thought. Speaking of which, Vi had entered the room as quick as a flash, she was holding a water glass and seemed worried. "Cait, is everything okay?" Vi asked. "Yeah, I'm okay" Caitlyn said, astonishingly out of breath. "Cupcake I heard you screaming from the kitchen, what happened?" Vi asks setting down the water next to Caitlyn's side of the bed and laying next to Caitlyn. Caitlyn sighed, "I was thinking about that, day in the sewers." Caitlyn said. Vi's face turned into a frown, "oh, I, I see." Vi said, holding her own shoulder, right where Cait had shot her. "Oh, my sweet, sweet Violet" Caitlyn said caressing Vi's cheek, Vi closed her eyes, "listen, it's, it's okay." She said. Cait threw her arms around Vi, "I promise, I won't hurt you, or anyone else, ever again." Caitlyn said. Vi hugged her back and kissed Cait's cheek. "Don't make promises you can't keep." Vi said. Then Caitlyn awoke with a start, she was on the edge of a cliff, the campfire long went out, the air was cold, and the radio was playing orchestral music. Caitlyn got out of her sleeping bag and took a sip of water as she looked at the scenery down below, a large plain with a river, a perfect place for someone who doesn't want to be found. "Good morning Violet." Caitlyn whispered, feeling the ground beneath her, staring into the sky. Suddenly the radio went out, she shook the radio, the batteries were dead. Caitlyn got up, took an axe and began her trek into town. She began marking her path by striking an X into evrey tree in her path, many of them already have X's, but it became a force of habit at some point. Speaking of habits, a bear had growled as she crossed her path. Caitlyn had seen this bear before, and it was like the two had an unspoken respect, Caitlyn never bothered her, the Bear never bothered Caitlyn, they simply acknowledged each other's existence, and went about their day. As she made her way into the small village, she noticed a truck full of hunters with guns, beer, and really, STUPIDLY LOUD music. The hunters already seemed drunk, throwing slurs at each other and banning on their truck. Caitlyn entered a store and picked up some batteries, when she overheard one of the hunters talking with the cashier. The hunter was a man around her age, beard, looked like....Jayce, almost, but with a lighter skin tone. And the cashier was a woman, also around her age, straight blonde hair with a light skin tone. The hunter was obviously flirting with the cashier. "That'll be 135," the cashier said. "135" the hunter said, "cmon, can't get me a little discount." The cashier looked at him sternly, "cmon, at least a number?" He said, "I'd rather go out with the bait," she said pointing to the worms. Caitlyn snorted under her breath. The hunter looked at Caitlyn and then looked at the cashier, grumbled, and slammed the money on the counter and took his stuff. The hunter went to his truck full of rowdy hunters. The cashier sighed as Caitlyn went to the counter with her batteries, the cashier seemed to take a liking to Caitlyn, she smiled at her, Cait smiled back. Then one of the hunters shot a gun into the air, causing them both to jump. Caitlyn sighed and shook her head. "You're not a hunter are you?" the cashier asked her, with a seductive tone almost, but Cait wasn't having any of it. "Not anymore," she simply replied and took her batteries and left.

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND IF YOU THINK I SHOULD TURN THIS INTO A FANFICTION!!!

[zirobitches]

One Piece: Soulmate AU

Always in this twilight - Crocodile x GN!Reader

Summary: Soulmates are incapable of hurting each other. As a pirate, this leads to some tragic moments midst battles. You thought you were prepared for when it might happen to you, but damn you were wrong.

Gn! Reader, Angst no comfort, no beta we die like Roger, Reader is Croc's First Mate and a former Roger pirate (Shanks/Buggy's age) but it doesnt really matter, also former slave background, congrats you are now in the place of my self insert OC, no promises on not being cringe this is literally a /reader fic, also had to make a fake crew bc we dont know enough crocs backstory HAND IT OVER ODA

Word count: 4500+

Also first fic on tumblr, idk what im doing here, lmk ur opinions. It is now 2:03am and i have class at 10:30. Might have to skip lmao

EDITS: grammar check lol. also cross posted it on ao3 - same name as my blog

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Soulmates weren't as common as you'd might assume when you first hear about it. There's an easy way to prove someone is your soulmate, but when that method is to harm them, well, it doesn't make it easy to find that person. And society gets a bit weird when you know your soulmate is out there.

you've known that some people carry around little needles to poke into strangers hoping to find the one. But that was in decent society; among pirates you more often heard tales of bullets suddenly dropping to the ground after they hit their target, or swords stopping on someone's skin as though it just hit steel. A battlefield is a hell of a place to meet the person fate had decided for you, but for pirates it had become a norm.

Not that long ago, some genius named Vegapunk did a study on how many people meet their soulmate - 1 in a 100. And that's just how many people find them. It never accounts for how many actually happily end up together. You had chosen to live your life as a pirate, so a happy ending with your supposed soulmate wasn't something you foresaw in your future.

You were always grateful most of your current crew felt the same. There was a small group among pirates that were always on the lookout to find their soulmate and then immediately retire. Your crew however like to joke that if they found them in battle, they would move out of the way so someone else could finish them off. It was a grim reality, but it was your reality.

However, on nights like these where you drank the night away, some romantic always had to bring it up.

"C'mon, did old Roger really make you so cold hearted that you don't believe in true love?"

"Pfft, you're fucking joking right?" You scoffed back. You always argued with Tink about this, but you understood your young navigator still had hope. Too bad you were the pessimist of the crew.

"It's not that I don't believe in true love," you continued. "Soulmates are real, I don't really see another explanation for not being able to harm only one other person in the world. But why limit yourself to waiting for a person you might never meet? So many are denying themselves to fall in love with someone else and then end up dying alone because they never found their soulmate."

Tink pouted in front of you. This was a tired conversation, one that was repeated every few weeks much to the chagrin of your other crewmates. But a controversial topic was always a great topic for a group such as yourselves.

"I'm not denying myself the chance to fall in love! I'm denying ever feeling heartbroken over someone who doesn't matter!" Tink tried to argue back, but you just groaned in response.

"And if you never meet the one? You'll just live and die without ever letting yourself even get a taste of what it is you're chasing." Tink glared, knowing it was futile to keep going, but the pink of her cheeks told you that the grog in her system was trying to get her to keep fighting.

It was then that a familiar tall figure caught your eye. There was your beloved captain Crocodile, trying to sneak behind everyone's back to grab another bottle for himself.

Crocodile was never much one for festivities, at least not one 'undeserved' as he might put it. While there was no battle won to celebrate, the night sky was clear and the waters calm; in the Grand Line, shouldn't that be enough to be happy about?

However tonight you weren't going to let him sneak booze and hide from the crew.

"Cap'n!" Apparently the grog was getting to you as well. "Come over here and help me crush Tink's dream of a soulmate!" You laughed as Tink gasped at your audacity. The rest of your company seemed more or less happy with how the night was going, but your captain was still less than enthused to join.

"If this is the same soulmate debate you've been going on about for the past 3 years, I will pass again. You already know my feelings on the matter." Crocodile's deep voice reverberated across the deck of the ship. Even if he wasn't giving orders, he still commanded the attention of everyone within earshot.

He gave a long drag of the bottle in his hand, and then turned to walk away. However you felt it was your duty as first mate to pester your captain into spending casual time with his crew.

"I may know your opinion, but would you be so kind and gracious to remind the rest of the crew? Perhaps?" You called out to the dark coat trying to run from the party, and saw him pause, then turn to walk back.

You could see some of the newer additions to the crew cower. You didn't blame them, Crocodile was an imposing figure, and was developing a infamous reputation as a pirate on the Grand Line. But he was your captain, and he would never hurt his crew, this you knew.

"If I ever met my soulmate," Crocodile began, "I assume it would be when I attempt to kill them." He took another sip from his bottle. This was one of the rare moments he was not puffing a cigar you suddenly realize. It made his face look younger, as though he was actually a man in his 20s as he claimed he was.

As though he knew you were thinking of him, Crocodile made eye contact with you. "When I realize I can't kill them, I'll call out for you." You felt your heart skip a beat. "Then you can finish them for me."

It was purely the grog's fault for making your face warm. The lack of a sea breeze was also suddenly apparent. But you couldn't be flustered, not when you were the one who asked for this answer.

You smiled, doing your best to brush off the tension. You were still maintaining eye contact with him after all. "Well there you have it. Not exactly the opinion I remember, but I hope I can live up to your expectations, Cap'n."

Crocodile nodded, then told you all to start to sober up or get to bed. "I don't need a crew of drunks on the Grand Line, or else we will never make it to the New World."

Your crew began to disperse and you went below deck to your cabin. You really hadn't had much to drink that night, yet your chest felt tight.

You thought you had learned your lesson, but no. Even after promising yourself you wouldn't, you became attached to your crew. Even after your last one fell apart. Even after you watched your first captain, your savior, be executed, you fucked up and dove straight into a different crew expecting it to be different.

You laid down in your bed, staring at the ceiling, the world slightly spinning. Suddenly all you can think about is when you met Croc.

-

It was little more than 3 years ago now, wasn't it? A whole 3 years since Roger died. The weight is still heavy in your chest, but not nearly as devastating as it was in Logue Town that day. You were a wreck, physically and emotionally.

After watching the execution, you were too heartbroken to join the others in pursuit of the One Piece. Your world has just officially ended, the crew was technically already disbanded, but now there was no hope of getting it back.

You ended up in some local bar. No one recognized you, and in the haze of all the excitement following Roger's death, why would they? You had just been some nobody apprentice who happened to stick on his ship after Roger saved your life.

But your sorrow did catch someone's eye.

You sat at the counter of this dive bar in Logue Town, mindlessly stirring whatever number drink sat in front of you now. You had run out of tears, and sat stuck in some frozen state of grief.

However, this sad portrait of yourself did not seem to deter someone from sitting next to you.

You paid them no mind, just staring into empty space, not enough energy to even remember you were still alive.

"You were a member of the Pirate King's crew weren't you?"

A deep voice rattled from the stranger, but it was his words that really caught your attention.

"How'd you figure?" You had paused your stirring at first, but now focused on your drink to avoid eye contact. You were a mess, you could feel your puffy eyes, and were still sniffling every so often.

"There's no reason anyone in this town should be sad that someone like him died. So, you must have known him, right?" The deep voice continued, and you could feel their eyes staring, but didn't have the strength to meet them.

"Well, you caught me. Going to take me in and see if you can get a reward? I'm afraid you won't find any posters of me though. I tended to get lost in the crowd, you could say." After that statement you finally grasped the glass in front of you and decided to knock back what was left. If this was the end of your little pirating career, so be it. It can die with Roger.

"Will you join my crew?"

Your head snapped up at that, and you finally looked up at the stranger.

Long black hair was slicked back to show all the sharp features of the man's face. A strong square jaw, a prominent, perfect nose, and pale, piercing eyes, hooded by thin black eyebrows. Undoubtedly, even in your drunken haze, you were sure sober you would agree the man was handsome.

After a moment to take in this stranger all you could manage was a "Excuse me?"

He smiled - no, smirked - and pulled a cigar out from his coat. "I could use someone with your experience on my crew." He carried on, as if you were discussing the weather outside. He lit the cigar with a lighter you hadn't noticed him pull out. Perhaps it was the booze, but looking at this guy, he almost seemed… fuzzy, around the edges.

"Having someone who once worked for the Pirate King should help me become the next Pirate King."

The stranger took a long drag from his cigar, then exhaled over the counter. You didn't know where the barkeep was now, but at the moment, it felt like you and him were the only people in the building.

You should be mad. Enraged at the audacity of someone to come up to you on the worst day of your life, and to ask you to work for them. But you felt nothing.

No. That wasn't right. You did feel something.

You chuckled. Giggled even. A small laugh that built up till you were laughing, nearly hysterically. You hadn't felt like this sort of light headed elation in a long time, and it was nice.

After taking a moment to catch your breath you finally looked back at the stranger. He didn't look upset at your reaction. He just kept smoking his cigar, waiting for an answer.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"I am Sir Crocodile, captain of the Neverland Pirates."

"Hmmm. Well, Sir Crocodile, I can tell you now that you have no chance of being Pirate King." You smirked back at him, propping your head up on your hand as you leaned against the counter.

This response still didn't bother the man. If anything, you swore he almost seemed… satisfied by your answer. Perhaps he knows what's coming next.

"I can help you out on the Grand Line and maybe help you get to the New World, but I promise," you leaned in towards this captain, staring him down. "You will never be the man Roger was. No one will."

Yet Crocodile was unperturbed.

"So you'll join my crew?"

You leaned back and reassessed your empty glass. You cast a quick glance at the bar and then back at the other pirate.

"Sure. I don't have anything better to do anyways."

-

You thought back in Logue Town you could never feel the same way about Crocodile's crew that you felt with Roger's, but you were always the fool. Now you are attached.

Now you need a reason to leave.

You couldn't waste your time or your heart with them. You had already died once with Roger, and if you stayed any longer you know you could never leave alive. You got up from bed - still plenty tipsy you swayed over - to your dresser.

Middle drawer, back left, underneath some no longer worn t-shirts was a small box. You opened it.

There were several small scraps of paper. Vivre cards.

As a child on Roger's boat, you were ecstatic to learn about vivre cards. A simple way to know the people you loved were alive and safe, and be able to find their exact location? It was too good to be true.

When you remember the feeling of Roger's paper burning in your hands at his execution, you knew the reality of vivre cards.

Your fingertips gently sorted through the papers you had made for some of Roger's crew. Each had a tiny name written in a corner. Shanks, Buggy, Ray, Gaban, Oden, and a few others of people who had been most important to you.

Maybe you could leave this crew and seek out the others. Rayleigh had always said he would retire at Sabaody, and your crew was bound to get there soon, hopefully in a couple months. The ache in your chest; you missed your old family. This could be the excuse you needed.

With a heavy sigh you closed the box and hid it away again. Sleeping on it would be good. Sleeping away the booze would also be nice.

Maybe then the tears would stop silently slipping down your face.

-

It turns out the excuse of seeing your old crew was unneeded. The news coo was kind enough to drop a reason to leave directly in your lap.

You stared at the newspaper for a long moment. The sinking feeling in your gut still did not go away.

You walked up to the bow where Crocodile was standing. He stared at the horizon as you approached the next island, Water 7.

"Captain."

Crocodile turned to look at you, face neutral, signature cigar in his mouth.

"Morning. The news any good?"

"They want to make you a Warlord."

Your own feelings were swept under the rug as your crewmates overheard. Instantly the deck was buzzing, the news spreading and making the once sleepy, slightly hungover crew come back to life.

"This is perfect!" The helmsman Diat yelled, a grin wide on his face. "Not only do we get the Marines off our back, it's recognition that we are some of the strongest pirates on the Grand Line!"

You would have laughed at him if not for the ice in your chest. Similar celebratory remarks were made all around you, but you didn't have the strength to pretend this was good news to you.

All you could feel was an icy feeling on your back, right where you had a large scar that tore up a long faded tattoo. But time could not get rid of the mark you could never forget about, no matter how much you wanted to.

Amid the spontaneous party you finally turned back to Crocodile. Amidst it all, he was still only looking at you.

Your words were quiet compared to the raucous around you, but your captain heard you just fine.

"If you become a Warlord I'm leaving the crew."

A couple of nearby crew gasped, heads whipped in your direction and murmurs quickly took place of all the yells.

Instantly protests, people yelling your name, yelling their arguments, but it all fell on deaf ears as you stared down your captain.

Tink of all people knew it was futile to argue with you, and turned to the man of the hour. "Captain! You can't just let your first mate leave!"

Before she could continue, Crocodile interjected. "You never planned on making me King of the Pirates, right? So you never planned on staying on this ship anyways."

This evoked even more protests from the crowd. Many of them weren't sure what you two were talking about, and some had begun to yell again.

The sounds were starting to be overwhelming, and this was not a conversation that required the whole crew anyways.

"That's enough from everyone!" You yelled over the cacophony. The crew went quiet. "This is a conversation for me and the captain, the rest of you need to beat it! Do something useful, we will make a port soon."

The crowd was not placated in the least, but it was true the ship would be docked soon, and there were things that needed to be prepared beforehand.

"You heard them. Get back to work." Crocodile finished your command, and the crowd dispersed. You knew they would still be listening, but it didn't stop you.

"I refuse to be part of a crew that works alongside the Marines. If you become a Warlord you automatically become their dog - then you may as well be a dog of the celestial dragons." Your tongue burned even at the mention of the world nobles.

Crocodile took a long drag of his cigar. He looked away from you and sighed an exhale of smoke, then dragged his line of sight back to you.

"I haven't decided yet."

You bristled at this. "Are you suggesting they already offered this to you? And I had to find out through a newspaper?"

Crocodile took yet another drag, and you lost your patience with his nicotine addiction. "Answer me Crocodile."

Your captain sighed through his nose this time, some of the smoke reaching you, a familiar smell after all these years. It once may have been a nice fragrance, knowing your captain was near, but now it blinded you and stoked your anger.

"We are almost to Water 7. Let's save it for there."

-

Tensions were high, especially between you and Crocodile, when your mood worsened when he disappeared while you oversaw the docking. But you docked. You got the crew into a hotel. During this time the crew began splitting into sides, which was not something you had anticipated. But you ignored it all until finally, Crocodile returned and you cornered him into in a room alone with you.

He had no cigar, and you had no drink in hand. It was a painfully sober room.

Crocodile sighed and slumped into an armchair. He dragged his eyes across the room till they met yours. You refused to look away this time, jaw set with determination to stand your ground.

"I don't want to be the Marine's dog," Croc began. "But they offered me a deal."

"The deal that our crimes are excused? Big whoop, as long as we don't get caught it's almost the same."

"No," he sighed, a large ring covered hand dragging down his face in exasperation. "A deal to help take down Whitebeard."

That got you silent. For a moment, as you recalled every time you saw Roger and Whitebeard exchange blows and fight for days on end.

"You? Take down Whitebeard?" You laughed, but it was a dry and bitter thing. "Your bounty is $81 million berries. Your devil fruit is great and all, but it is by no means fight and beat Whitebeard good. Even if Newgate was without his crew, our entire crew would be wiped off the map. You've lost it if you truly believe that this is achieveable."

Crocodile glared from across the room. Not his usual, perpetual glare, but a genuine, freeze you in your tracks ice cold glare.

He stood up, all 8 feet imposing over you as he stalked across the room. "I have let you say plenty of cruel things to me, but this may cross the line."

But you were his first mate and you couldn't fear him if you were supposed to talk sense into him. "Cross the line? I'm not the one who is making deals with the Navy so I can sail us to our deaths at the hands of Whitebeard!" You were yelling now, no, roaring at your foolish headstrong captain.

"If you take that ship and that crew as it is now to the New World to fight Whitebeard and his sons, no one will come back alive!" Your heart was on fire with rage and frozen in fear. Rage at your captain, who is very much overestimating his abilities. Fear for your crewmates who have no idea what sort of danger their captain was going to put them in.

Crocodile was now truly enraged on the same level as you. He sneered down at you as he suddenly grabbed you by the neck - much to your shock. "I wanted you there to see me become the next Pirate King. But if you can't support me for this, one of the biggest moments in my life since I've been a pirate, then I have no need for you anymore."

With his free hand he opened the door that was behind you. A group of Marines walked in with cuffs ready. "To sweeten the deal, what better than to give a former Roger pirate to the Navy?"

You felt all the blood drain from your face, as fear for your own well being finally pierced your heart. You looked up at Crocodile, and you could feel tears begin to creep at the corner of your eyes. "You never fail to surprise me, Captain."

"Well done Sir Crocodile." One of the Marines spoke, and you could tell from their uniform it was a Vice Admiral, though you didn't recognize them.

"A public execution of a Roger's pirate should be a grand way to ring in your instatement as Warlord."

You felt the world slow down around you and felt Crocodile's grip on your neck slip at the Marine's sentencing.

Crocodile began to speak, "That was not what we agreed on," But your ears had begun to ring.

Growing up on the Oro Jackson, you had picked up some neat tricks. You found out you were hopeless with the color of observation haki, but had a special knack for color of arms. Perfect against those darn logia fruit users.

In a blink of an eye you ripped Crocodile's arm away from your neck and you made a mad dash past him. And jumped straight through a window, glass and all.

You could vaguely hear a commotion behind you as Marines ran after you, but it was lost with the ringing in your ears.

You could hear and feel your heartbeat, pounding throughout your body as you ran through the endless alleys and canals of Water 7. You could feel tears pierce through the wind rushing past your face as you ran, desperately with no objective.

All you could think about was the way the heat of Crocodile's hand felt on your neck, the cold metal of the rings that had pressed against your pulse.

Have you ever really touched Crocodile before?

…

You missed him. You didn't understand why. He had just betrayed you - fucking hell, he was just handing you over to the Navy as part of his deal to become a warlord, but god. You wanted to be with him anyways. You're not sure how long you've been in love with him; his sharp eyes, the smell of his cigars, the rings on his hands, but gods above.

You had fallen in love with Crocodile.

In your realization you slowed down. Your legs and lungs burned, you were gasping for air and not just because you had been running.

Has it always been this dark? When did the day leave you behind?

You now stood in some nondescript alley, dimly lit a golden hue by windows that lined it. It was a long alley, each end blocked by canals. How you arrived there you weren't certain. But you weren't alone.

At one end sand had appeared. And from it stepped your dear, awful captain Crocodile. You both stared at each other, both of you panting for breath.

"I didn't want it to be like this." Crocodile's voice cuts through the air to you. You knew you should run. But for some reason you couldn't find the strength.

"I didn't know they would execute you. I imagined they would send you to Impel Down." Crocodile continued to speak. You just stood there and listened as he walked towards you.

As you watched him, there was a strange look on his face. You've seen it before but still didn't know what it meant.

He stopped walking ten feet in front of you. The light was still too dim to see him clearly, but it was fine. You knew his face well enough.

"I won't let the Navy kill you. Not after what the nobles did to you, it feels wrong." You had never told Crocodile what the scar on your back was. It didn't feel like it mattered anymore.

"I think I'll feel better about this if I'm the one who kills you."

You knew this was coming. The second you saw him at the end of the alley. But you agreed with him. If you had to die at someone's hands, you would pick Crocodile over anyone else. Even if it meant he didn't feel the same about you, it didn't matter anymore. You were so tired.

It would be nice to see Roger again.

But then Rayleigh's face flashed in your mind. You still had to pay him a visit. You still had to visit Wano to see Oden. You wanted to see Shanks and Buggy find the One Piece.

You couldn't see Roger just yet.

So, in a sudden scramble, you turned around and ran.

The ground where you had been standing suddenly crumbled. You felt a gasp finally escape your lungs as you realized you almost gave up. But not yet. You had to save your crew too.

Then you finally ran out of luck. The dim light hid a hole in the cobblestones and you fell to the alley ground. You quickly twisted your body just in time to see Crocodile's scythe of sand arc straight towards you.

It hits you right in the chest, and crumbles to dust.

Confused, you run your hands through the sand that has landed on your lap. You're not cut in half - instead you just have sand all over you.

Crocodile change his mind? He was letting you go? Thoughts and heart still racing, you looked up at him.

Oh.

Oh no.

The horror on his face was plain to see - that was supposed to be a killing blow.

But he didn't hurt you.

Your hand jumped to your neck from when he grabbed you earlier. But in retrospect, you had just been shocked by the action, he hadn't harmed you.

Crocodile didn't hurt you.

No.

Crocodile couldn't hurt you.

Because he was your soulmate.

It was the look on his face that hurt you the most. The disgust, anger, horror - this man did not want a soulmate. He did not want you. So why bother sticking around?

You scrambled back to your feet. Even if he couldn't hurt you, the Marines still could.

So, with blurry eyes and a heavy heart, you ran away.

Faintly, you heard a painfully familiar voice call your name, but then all that was left was the wind as you ran.

pt. 2 (if you want, but this might be better as a one shot)

[fruity-legos]

tacos tirade is litteraly villan nova and redeemed night hunter so here is a analysis

Orange text-Taco/Nova

Pink text-Mepad/Night hunter

Are you sure this is what you want? - Night hunter trying to reason with nova

If you want to psychoanalyze someone, don’t look at me, Look at them, - Nova trying to deflect the question if this is realy what she desires and pushing it to the night bureau/dream chasers

it's so pathetic How they run to fetch their sticks - How the dream chasers/Night bureau fix others problems

Sure, call me polemic, unsympathetic At least I know other tricks - Nova being seen as delusional or unhinges in season 1, and how she tries to actually make an effort in the team

Look at me and all you'll see is the debris of some defective outcast A frenetic, antithetic (if poetic) little iconoclast - Nova and the insomniacs being excluded from the dreamchasers and once again being percieved as delusional

But I won't live in the past- oh my gyat i love this line!!! This both represents taco and nova in a really god way, how nova is still stuck to thinking shes inferior

I almost won this game once, you know?- How nova found out about the night bureau and dreamchasers

But, history is rearranged just to credit those who win the glory So reality is changed in the edit when they spin the story - Nova talking about royce and maybe the dram chasers and feeling jealous shes not getting any credit for opening the rift to reunite izzie and mateo with sneak, even if its supposed to be classified

And we choose to feel this pain - Nova talking about how the night bureau CHOOSES for some dreamers to get hurt

And we lose more than we gain - Nova talking about how she lost her freinds and only had izzie

But I will break this cycle of mistakes, unlike all Of these snakes whom I call to condemn - Nova feeling like shes saving all of them from the night bureau and reffering to the dream chasers/night bureau as snakes who she thinks shes saving

If I can't win the prize, I'll play this last reprisal Just to bring their lies all to an end - Nova knowing that she can and never will be a dreamchaser, and becoming a threat to the night bureau for trying to expose the,

Ack! You need regeneration! Unfortunately, I don't have much faith in that process. - Nova not believing in regeneration/healing i guess??

Of course not..

Why of course not? You believe yourself to be incapable of starting over in more ways than one, I do not know who you lost, but is it not possible to get them back? - Night hunter knowing that nova feels like she cant change her ways and wants to bring her freinds back ( since the insomniacs are in a diff grade i think?) despite going through it himself

'Clear the slate, start again' Are you hearing how preposterous that sounds? - Nova so suprised how night hunter sounds considering what he is

How do you not comprehend that for someone with my

MONSTRUS BACKROUND! - idk what to explain here lol this is just really fitting to me

The whole slate has fallen apart - Novas dreams of figuring everything out falling apart (Taco that is not true, there are other ways to--)- Night hunter trying to reason with her

It's too late..

(It's not too late..) For me to restart! - fits the so well guys i cant explain it

But its not I, its they

Who deign to play this game!

So cruel and inhumane,

Base and uncouth! - Nova talking about how the night bureau is terrible at their job and acts cruel and inhumane not only to non aware dreamers like her, but everyone in the dream world.

Let us talk about it when your

Head is not so clouded. You're no

Menace, Taco, how did they hurt you? - Despite this, night hunter still tries to get through to her despite her actions because he docent want her to make the same mistakes he did

( Please think this though!!)

I think they're too afraid to

bear the bed they made Can't bring themselves to face the awful-

Feeling double-crossed is part of

Dealing with a loss, yes, but the

Healing is a process, that's the-

TRUTH..

Haha bed because dreamzzz hahah im so funny! anyways nova feeling like the night bureau cant handle that they hurt dreamers and dream creatures in their ways

And night hunter giving his advice after what hes been through, but it fails.

( AAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHH )

So I'm turning up the heat to 'sauté', I've a beef to get grilled But I fully guarantee that today all the beans that get spilled Won't be mine, no I'm FIIIINNNEEE! - nova in denial of her actions once more

Shh! Now it's time - nova putting her plan into action, with night hunters actions failing to get through.

( sorry if this is confusing crying emoji, and sorry if i get any innacuracies with the au!!)

HTHSHHDJSHSHS RABHHHAHDBSSJ

TWEAKING, CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP ASCENDING DOING BACKFLIPS RNSNFNNFFNNFNFNFFNFN OMGGGGG

I'M GONNA HAVE TO DRAW OR MAKE AN EDIT IDK CUZ THIS IS LITERALLY PERFECT

Oomf pls tell me you have more songs I need more food JRJAJDJ🙏

[bane-amesta]

Vergil's journey: The true DMC5 Special Edition (?)

First attempt ever at posting fics here, let me know if I made a mistake in any sort of way plz Basically this is my "fuck it I'll do it myself" about Crapcom's custom to make Vergil playable just a copypaste into the og campaign with no story or context at all lmao

Also is a prologue for my longer DMC5 fic (too long to post it here sadly), I'll add the links to AO3 at the end :D Enjoy!

Autoimposed rules while writing this:

1º Using only Vergil's POV 2º Make it work within the game, aka not using scenarios, dialogs, etc from other entries 3º Make sure to add sections that can be interpreted as gameplay, cinematics, and also the trope of obtaining weapons along the way (I excluded bosses since this can be just any random thing from the enemies list lol) 4º Exclude any of my fanfic shenanigans since those are already a creature on its own xD

Nightmares were always with him. It was the only thing that was always with him. And he was on the verge of wishing for death just to see if he could make them dissapear once and for all.

Until suddenly, without any explanation, that endless cycle stopped.

He opened his eyes, looked around him, not knowing where he was. But that was not important. Hell will always be hell.

Something was different, however, the eternal torture that had become part of him was gone.

Finally, he looked at his hands, hoping to see the damn armor that had held him captive for how long? Months, years, centuries?

But no, there was none of that, except his own hands, covered by the usual gloves, and the blue coat was badly damaged, but not destroyed.

This was so unusual that it took him a while to understand. But it was undeniable.

Nelo Angelo was dead. Vergil had been reborn, survived, somehow.

He tried to get up, but he was very weak, in pain. But that pain was only physical, something new, because it told him that his body, even in that state, refused to die yet. He could see faint marks on his skin, as if he were made of clay about to crack. Yet he was still in one piece, alive.

And that was enough for the moment.

Hearing the usual demonic roar in the distance, he rushed to unsheathe his sword, only to realize it was not in his hand. For a brief second horror filled his face. But then his mind brought back the memories that had been taken from him when he was forced to be a puppet of the prince of darkness.

Vergil trying to get the power of Sparda, Dante trying to prevent it. The final battle at the entrance to the underworld, with his father's sword, his hands barely picking up the amulet that was rightfully his before leaping into the void.

Mundus, glaring at him as he charged forward feigning arrogance, despite knowing that this battle could be his last.

Finally, the darkness surrounding him as his sword fell to pieces, engulfed by a sea of blood, before his eyes were covered and his mind closed, to give the last touches at the new toy of the underworld's ruler.

His head kept spinning, all that coming back suddenly was too cruel.

Vergil managed to get up at last, not so much from needing to move, as to focus his thoughts on something else, anything, but it was useless. The memories kept coming back to him.

Trish's creation, Mallet Island, Dante fighting his way with his father's sword instead of his own, and facing Nelo Angelo without knowing who was behind the armor.

What would Dante have thought after that victory, and discovered Vergil behind the creature he just killed?

He put his hand to his neck on reflex, and found only the fabric of his worn clothes. He almost felt like laughing. Even the amulet, now useless, had been taken from him.

Another noise, closer this time, brought him back to reality. This time he had no choice, he must face danger, or flee. But Vergil has never been that kind of person.

Even without his Yamato, he was going to fight somehow.

With enormous effort, he accomplished his goal. About eight bright blue swords appeared around him, creating a constantly rotating shield. A technique created years ago, imbued with the most vivid despair, when he was still a child and there was no one, nothing to protect him.

That idea made him frown. He greatly disliked having to go back to this to survive, but after thinking about it for a moment, none of it mattered anymore.

He has anything to lose, not anymore.

And he could still fight.

He walked in the direction of the noise, which turned out to be a miserable low-grade demon, which didn't last long enough for it to mean anything. At least in this state he could still have that kind of personal satisfaction.

The only thing he regretted was not being able to beat his brother one last time. He had been defeated so many times that he could no longer live or die in peace until he did. A single victory was all he needed.

How to do it was not clear yet, but he was sure that something could be done about it.

Yamato separated the demons from the humans. It was the key to isolate both worlds and separate them completely.

...Why had that particular phrase popped into his mind?

More importantly, did that phrase have a more literal meaning than he ever thought?

There was one thing Vergil had never tried, and which, in the current situation, might as well be his last chance.

Dante's power awakened when Vergil pierced his brother's body with his own sword.

Something that never happened to him.

What would happen to Vergil if he did the same?

The only way to know was to try.

The Yamato was so attached to his being, that he feel capable to even tracking the sword, as soon as he had regained some energy.

That was motivation enough to keep walking.

With effort he disposed of the garbage that crossed his path, even before they knew he was there. The summoned swords turned into spears that he could throw away, saving energy. His body wasn't in the best shape, so he wasn't going to try too hard if he could help it. Vergil was grateful for the distant moment when he received a simple but powerful advice: that disdaining firearms was no excuse for not having an ace up his sleeve, in the form of a long-range attack.

If he had no weapons, he could just try creating some other variation of the same attack, after all, he had plenty of time to experiment. And there were many demons that could give him something interesting after a fight.

The latter was an idea that he would only use in an emergency, since it was nevertheless only one weapon that he really needed. The rest was optional.

He kept walking and slaying demons, avoiding the ones that were too much for his current abilities, for who knows for how long. Time is a concept that have its own rules in the underworld, but something was evident. The Yamato was in the human world. He had to find a way to get back.

Luckily for him, the most powerful demons used to be near the dimensional holes that led to the other side, which they always used to go hunting when they were fed up with the usual garbage.

When he was not fighting for his life, Vergil heard voices, rumors of something coming, an event so strange that some no longer remembered whether it was true or not, but that those who were above the rest knew very well, and were preparing to take advantage of it.

The Qlipoth, the demon tree, was growing again, and it would soon reach the human world. And the demon who managed to eat its fruit would rise as the king, the strongest of all, just like Mundus in his day.

With such an opportunity, no one cared about the poor wretches at the end of the food chain. Something that of course Vergil used for his own purposes. Being ignored, probably for the first time as Sparda's son, deeply offended him, but he couldn't afford it, considering his state. Besides, he had more important things to do.

At this point, he had already managed to create a near-perfect copy of the Force Edge, his father's sword, which he was unable to claim for himself and ended up in Dante's hands. He was still somewhat angry about it, but lamenting was useless. This new version was part of his energy and therefore he would never lose it. That gave him a little more self-confidence.

And perhaps luck was reaching out to him, feeling guilty after ignoring him for so long, because as soon as he set foot in the human world, he knew immediately where to turn.

The city of Fortuna.

Unfortunately, his body was not in tune with his mind, since he also felt that what little strength he had gathered was leaving him again, this time with the certainty that there's no time to waste. A quick glance at the first surface that allowed it, informed Vergil that his face was beginning to crack as well. So the first thing he did in the human world was look for something that would hide his pathetic appearance.

Another unexpected stroke of luck led him to find Beowulf on his way to his destination, at the home of a collector who clearly had no idea of the weapon's true value.

In the eyes of mere humans, that would be considered theft, for Vergil it was nothing more than recovering something long time lost.

But his body grew weaker and weaker; for the same reason, his mind was focused back on that single purpose, dispatching the enemies that appeared as quickly as possible, conveniently forgetting that he had already visited that city once, and that the young man who kindly offered him something to eat might or might not to be more than just a stranger.

Why did he have the Yamato? Why was his appearance so similar to Vergil's?

Those questions disappeared immediately, the boy noticed that something was wrong, and his arm flashed to show him the threat.

That was all that Vergil needed, with what little strength he had left, he tore off the kid's arm without hesitation, and calling the sword, opened a portal, crossing it without looking back, with the certainty that he had won another enemy.

But that didn't matter. His mission was more important, he could not afford to die without achieving it first. And a child was no reason to worry. The end justifies the means, after all.

He went on his way, although this time the correct thing to say would be that he was going back instead of forward. Going back to his childhood's city was not something to take lightly.

Vergil is not the kind of person to look back. He never did it before, it was a waste of time, a useless torture. Right now, however, it was a kind of ritual that needed to be done.

To achieve his goal, severing ties permanently was a prerequisite.

And doing it in the old family home was the most appropriate thing to do.

He looked at the huge portrait of what was once a happy family. It was quite damaged, but the overall image was still somehow recognizable. Mysteriously the mother had been "saved", her features were the only ones clearly visible, while the face of the father and the two children had been lost in the black of combustion.

How ironic, Vergil thought, as he focused on the twins, and it didn't take any effort to tell them apart, it was obvious to him.

-Dante...

His twin brother, the only living relative he had left, the reason he was there, about to abandon everything, hoping to regain his lost honor back, in one last desperate attempt.

Turning his back on the portrait, to his family, he focused on what he had come to do, he didn't know what would come of it all, but again, it didn't matter anymore.

Separating man from demon was his last hope, and along with it, he also took care to cut off everything he considered a weakness, the reasons for his defeat, the nightmares that constantly reminded him that he still had not managed to obtain the power that he had sought so much.

He stabbed himself with the sword while he recited that spell that, to tell the truth, he no longer remembered where he found it.

As pain stalked him again, he felt that his plan had worked, his human side and his nightmares were successfully discarded, and something grew within him, a raw and savage power that grew ever greater.

And so Vergil ceased to exist... for a period of a month, or so.

When V achieved his own goal, and plunged the cane into the demon king to unite the two halves again, the being known as Vergil returned. As he watched the pieces of the illusion fall, the mansion disappearing, he realized that he never predicted this outcome. V had been discarded and his mission was fulfilled at the exact moment of his "birth", but he did not expect that, instead of lying down to die and accepting his fate, that remnant of his would do the opposite.

However, to say that he was upset about it would be a lie.

Because thanks to that, this time he could finally face his old rival in the same conditions, a fair and long-awaited fight, because yes, Urizen had also left his mark on this new Vergil and he remembered his battles, but for some reason, it was not the same.

Perhaps the human side of him was much more complex or important than he ever thought, but Urizen, powerful as he was, was far too… simple. A creature with only one purpose in mind was not what Vergil wished for when he thought of a perfect demon, and his victories were far from truly satisfying.

Vergil didn't have an answer to this question, and he would probably never find it, but that was past.

At this moment, something more interesting was in front of him: Dante, tired, but in the mood for a fight.

Beside him, that boy, Nero, his expression showed with brutal frankness the confusion he felt in this strange situation. He had helped V, but of course he never imagined that V was a part of the individual who stole his arm. Even with V's explanation, he didn't seem to understand why this was absolutely necessary for the brothers, something inevitable.

However, instead of going straight for the attack, Vergil looked to the ground, where was the book that V had taken with him from the first seconds of his existence. Again, he wondered why he had held onto that object so vehemently. It was not a weapon, nor was it a pleasant memory, yet he couldn't help it. Now, as Vergil, he did the same, pick it up, and put it away. Something unusual about him, but there was no time to think, Dante made the first move.

Vergil felt refreshed, this time, stronger than ever thanks to the fruit of the tree, which gifted him with a couple of new skills that he was eager to try, and dispatched Dante almost effortlessly. He even felt the luxury of giving his brother a chance to rest, before the final fight.

For some reason he couldn't understand at the time, he turned around, looking at Nero before disappearing through the portal.

-Thank you, Nero...

Why he said that? Those kinds of words weren't his style, always used to getting what he needed on his own. But denying the boy's participation was absurd, even when V didn't hesitate for a moment to use him as a tool to achieve his goal, Nero as well didn't hesitate to help V when he was so close to die.

Vergil opened his eyes again. This time he was at the top of the demon tree, thousands of meters above the city, waiting patiently for Dante, and in that span of time he had done something unbecoming of him: look back, reflect on the past and all the decisions that led to this time and place. It must have been a bad habit inherited from V, who had perhaps become too used to that mental torture, as he searched for the discarded nightmares in a pathetic attempt to confront Urizen.

But that little lapse had come to an end. Dante had arrived, demanding the sword that belonged to him by right, and that this time no one would steal it ever again.

-If you want it, you'll have to take it. But you already knew that.

-I had the feeling you'd say that.

A smile was born from both of them, aware that this time would be the last. Years of conflict and rivalry, condensed into a decisive battle.

One of the two would die here. But even so they smiled, remembering old times and accustomed from their earliest childhood to solving everything that way, their own particular way of relating as a family.

That last word, however, ended up attacking Vergil in an unexpected way, when Dante in the middle of the fight, remarked casually (or perhaps with a well-calculated purpose), that Nero was his son.

-You cutt off your own son's arm for THIS?

-My son…? That means nothing to me!- Vergil replied immediately, without stopping to think about what Dante had meant.

The confrontation continued almost like nothing, but when Vergil was about to be defeated, he stepped aside to throw Dante away, and in that moment, his brain finally made the missing connection.

-Nero is my son?- He asked wearily, unable to hide the disbelief in his voice.

-Yeah, dumbass- Dante answered with a slight laugh as he got up-, You can't remember through that thick skull of yours?

If Vergil stopped to think, yes, it all made sense, and he wondered why he hadn't noticed it before, even that annoying bird hinted at V more than once the same thing. Something that, in those moments of uncertainty, did not matter.

Although it was more correct to say that he deliberately ignored all the clues.

But then, something else passed through his mind, a memory that he had believed dead and forgotten, a woman's face that...

-Well, well, that was a long time ago- he said without further ado, ending that topic.

-I guess you were young once too. As much as I'd love to hear that story, I think it's about time we...

-...Ended this- Vergil answered immediately.

That was too deep of a secret, which he preferred to take to the grave, and would do everything he could to make sure of it.

Dante would never know about that matter. If he already had motives to kill him before, now he must do it at any cost.

Both men drew their weapons, took their most powerful form, ready for one last attack.

They charge at the same time, intending to finish it all in one strike.

The dreaded final slash never happened. Something appeared in front of the brothers, stopping them with a hand on their chest, also holding the hands that wielded both swords at the same time.

A demon with long white hair and blue wings.

They barely had time to recognize Nero, before he threw them away, and gave his own opinion on the matter.

-This ends, right here. I won't let you kill each other. 

Vergil couldn't help but react when Nero in one blow sent Dante flying as he tried to pull the boy to the side, without even looking at him. Maybe the boy was indeed his son after all.

He was aware that Nero was still upset about being called a deadweight, and knew immediately from whom he had inherited that spiteful trait.

Unfortunately, he couldn't celebrate seeing Dante on the ground, because now Nero turned in his direction.

-There are other ways to settle your differences. I'm putting a stop to this sibling rivalry.

Vergil couldn't help but laugh. Nero made it sound so easy.

The situation was so absurd.

A child trying to teach adults a lesson.

-Ah, you came all this way just for that.

-Vergil, V... Whatever you call yourself. Dante won't die here, and neither will you. You have a problem with that?

Okay, now this was unusual. V witnessed in the front row his talent to hold a grudge, how Nero was determined to defeat and eliminate the bastard who cut off his arm. Perhaps knowing now that they were family had made Nero reconsider, despite what Vergil had done to him?

Would he forgive him just for that?

No, of course not, that was not what Nero had in mind. He would not be a descendant of Sparda if he chose the peaceful route.

So this kid wants to fight. Vergil understood his motives, of course, but that was not equivalent to taking him seriously. Having a new power was not enough. Vergil tried to engage Dante, tempt him to fight again and thus pushing Nero aside, but he completely ignored him.

-Whatever, I don't really care, I'm just gonna sit this one out- said the younger twin, laying down on the ground ready to take a nap.

Damn it, Dante.

So it was Vergil vs Nero.

-When this is over, I'll make you submit… Father.

That word sent a chill down his spine. It was strange, unknown, and he immediately knew he would never get used to it.

Again Vergil tried to not engage in the fight.

-This has nothing to do with you. Stand down.

-Nothing to do with me? It has everything to do with me!

-Nero…

He suddenly realized something. It's not just that he has no reason to fight Nero.

Vergil doesn't want to fight Nero.

But why?

It's not fear, no. The boy is stronger now, but he is still too young and inexperienced to compare up to the twins. Or maybe, maybe yes, because Nero wants something very particular out of this fight, and Vergil isn't willing to even think about it.

He just dodged, and launched weak attacks. He really did not want to take the situation to a point of no return, but the boy would not listen to reasons.

-Fuck you!

-You…

The kid is angry. Without even seeing him grow up, Vergil knew that he had inherited the method of solving problems with his fists. It brought back memories of those old fights with Dante over anything and everything, but this time the motive was more important, getting Vergil to recognize him as his son.

-You feeling accepting yet?

-…Your existence, or your strength?

-Both you fuckin' asshole!

...If Nero wants recognition from him, then he will have to earn it.

It was time to check the boy's real strength.

Vergil had no choice but to fight seriously, an oversight could send him flying, just like Dante. He wasn't going to let himself be humiliated by the boy, not when he could see Dante out of the corner of his eye, sitting down and enjoying the show. He wanted so badly to kick his ass when it was all over...

The fight ran its course, and to Vergil's disappointment, the youngest was the winner.

-Interesting...

-Ahahaha, oh brother, you cut off your son's arm for more power, and you still lost.

-Enough dammit! The underworld is taking over, we need to do something before it's too late.

A trembling proved Nero right.

-He's right, we need to close that portal. Hey, you lost, so you better do what he says.

Vergil wasn't going to admit defeat so easily. He got to his feet as best he could, and for the first time he felt that the weight of his age was upon him.

-I can still fight.- Nero was on guard again. -But if those roots continue to spread through town, it'll just interfere with our business.

Vergil started walking and Dante got up to follow him, leaving Nero behind.

It was not necessary to explain to his brother what they had to do. Without crossing a word they had already agreed.

-Now, that's the smartest thing I've ever heard you say. Better hurry up… We still got a score to settle.

-Evidently.

-Wait, where are you going?

Vergil turned to Nero to explain the situation.

-We need to sever the Qliphoth roots from the underworld itself. Then we'll seal the portal with the Yamato.

Nero looked at them both, immediately understanding the situation.

-Hang on, if you do that, you can't come back.

This time Dante answered.

-Why do you think I'm goin'? Somebody's gotta keep an eye on your old man.

The brothers turned their backs on Nero as they walked away.

-You can't just expect me to stay here while you both go-

-It's because you're here we can go-. Dante said suddenly. -We're trusting you with things on this side, capisce?

Vergil didn't stop to watch. Whatever relationship those two had, that moment was the closest thing to a goodbye, and he didn't want to be a part of it. It was better to leave as soon as possible.

-Make haste, Dante.

-Yeah. I know.

Of course, Nero disagreed. There was no need to look him in the face to figure it out.

-Hey, wait!

They both heard him run in his direction, and with that twin instinct, they synchronized to hit the young man and send him flying back, far enough away that he couldn't do anything about it.

-Take care, Nero. Adiós.

Dante left first, clearly intending to give the two of them a moment alone.

Vergil wasn't in the mood for a family reunion, but he couldn't just walk away.

-I won't lose next time.

He looked at the book in his hand, considering that idea that had just occurred to him.

-Hold onto that until then.

There, it was done. He threw the book to the ground, and while he followed the same path as Dante leaving his son behind, he thought that "farewell" wasn't too bad.

Now there was only one problem left: getting rid of Dante.

It was obvious that he would stick to Vergil like a pesky plague while they were in the underworld. They were heading to cut down the demon tree and the younger twin was already talking way too much. Vergil let him be, more out of boredom than anything else. As soon as he managed to defeat Dante, that annoying chat would be a thing of the past.

But again his plans weren't working, and they were already enjoying the fights as a game rather than a death battle.

-Score for Dante! I'm up one.

-Where did you learn to count? We're even.

Dante lay down to rest, as if they weren't in the middle of hell, open to a possible attack.

-You know, I'm starting to think, this is never gonna end.

-Maybe. We have plenty of time.

He couldn't deny that there was some fun, just like the old days. The only problem is that Dante occasionally threw out things about Nero way too casually for Vergil's taste, like nothing.

-By the way, how'd it felt catching up with your kid?

-There's no need for us to "catch up".

-Well, with an attitude like that, you'll never gonna meet your grandkids.

Vergil didn't take a second to put the Yamato on his brother's neck.

-That's enough. I don't want to hear it.

Dante nodded, but his expression made it clear that he wasn't going to shut up about it so easily.

At least Vergil will have plenty of time to try to silence him once and for all...

My AO3 page for those interested

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurasakiWitch/works

[sunskate]

FD-

with nearly half the teams cut after the RD, the FD was all teams who had Grand Prix assignments (except S/F who weren't yet eligible 🇨🇦→🇮🇪)

PiriHara's Chicago program was a surprise - it hadn't made much of an impression over a stream, but what do you know, Broadway is better live 😅

Olivia and Tim - they never did work out the timing glitches in this program. at least he made it to the end without struggling so much condition-wise like he did at Challenge Cup a few weeks ago. catching up to her in one season was a tall order. i really love how languid and easy she can make it look while covering big ice. send him to IAMO for the summer. it's no consolation to them, but going below both sibling teams allowed the Czech Republic to keep 2 spots for next Worlds

Taschlers were low balled - in no reality should they be below Davis/Smolkin

the swan lakes - D/S in this context, skating against strong teams, look so very small, shallow and with not much ice coverage. it doesn't help that they picked huge music that normally would be danced by an entire stage full of swans. plus their music cut had a couple awful jarring edits - the audacity to slug in extra notes in Tchaikovsky 💀 i might be the only one so bothered lol

the Mrazeks by comparison looked smoother and faster and smarter in that they picked some of the gentler swan lake music including the waltz. for a first year senior team, they can be proud. another first year team who's been even more stellar is Hannah and Ye -

omg they were so good - they're able to be so emotional without feeling over the top. just expressive and connected to each other. lovely ❤️

i like Demougeot/LeMercier - i'm going to look forward to see what they do next. i hope they keep being quirky

really happy to see T/V and R/A live - T/V are willowy and ethereal, and her ballet background shows. but i don't think they get down into the ice. i like this FD a lot, but the interest in it is in those arm movements and elements more so than the skating. R/A i liked the RD a little more than the FD but like them very much

CPom are raising their game all the time - so happy for them and their well earned rise. what i love is that not only do you see them becoming better skaters and performers, but you can see they believe - their confidence in themselves is at a completely different place than it was 2 years ago

omg, live i didn't see just how long Charlene's skirt was caught on her blade at the end. idk if Barbara in the kiss and cry was holding her breath to see if the judges used the little mistakes to put F/G ahead. thank god they didn't, because G/F still have such a higher quality

and Piper and Paul - this program uses the glide and sweep of the music to emphasize that in the skating in a beautiful way. a skated program is so much more satisfying than an element-fest like C/B's. as impressive as their elements and performances can be, i don't know if i've ever been moved by a program of theirs

my favorite of the entire event - LaLa - i was crying by the gorgeous OFt. they alone would have been worth the trip. but gratitude to all the skaters and their coaches - my cup's full. i'm still processing

[wytfut]

wth is with the title?

I live in my own little world. Pretty sure most folks that know me personally, know this. And they either just handle it, or ignore... No matter. And the “Captain Obvious” side of it, is me running around with blinders on, missing reality.

I came up with this title, as I wanted something that tells a bit about me, AND is obscurely different enough to draw curiosity. Why that? I don’t know, ... guess I've never been one to appear common, or like everyone else. Pretty sure most folks like to be the individual they are,... but maybe a touch afraid of attracting attention.   Because of my attitude towards being an individual, I do attract attention. I don’t believe its intentional (could be), but no matter... I’ll let someone else decide

Been that way most of my life.... I like being me. Never insulted so much as when Lincoln Hoot and Hollar got bought out by Alltel. I went from Bruce Whitefoot to , umm.... really can’t remember that number anymore. LTT, I could call any department, and they’d at least recognize the fact to know me, whether they did or not.

I am a grandpa. I’ve got 5 grand kids.... love them all. Don’t get to see them enough.

Grumpy..... yup, older I get the grumpier I’m getting... thats a fact.

Pants.... since 1999, I have put on the pounds. I went from my fighting weight of 197 (I was at that weight for over 20 years) to my max of 257. When I got up to that weight, my pants were starting to become uncomfortable. Even with upping in sizes a couple of times. This in turn would add to the “grumpy” side of  the title. 

Lil known side note: I’ve been on a diet since October, and here in February, I’m down almost 30 pounds. Really got tired of pants that hurt. Been a battle, losing weight and my back. Want to get down 50 total.... I’m pretty sure I can do it.

X world...   as in Excelsior Henderson World, or Super X community, etc. 

I’ve been a member of many organizations thru the years. None have met or surpassed what I’ve experienced in this community. Have developed some strong everlasting friendships, all over this country.... and few in other countries. 

This group of folks..... I like to think it wouldn’t mattter, if the common denominator was something other that “Super X”, and still be attractive .... BUT as we all know Brucie, its because its different that attracts me. 

Thus “Grandpa Grumpy Pants X world” ... and you can search that on youtube.

Just posted another video yesterday on youtube. Here I’ve got 5 already and thought I’ve be lucky to get 4 a year. LOL

That came about, as my original video I chopped into 4 episodes. And then I remembered a bunch of stuff, I had forgotten, and made the 5th epsiode of the original 4....    I’ve probably still forgotten more stuff. I’ll get it all on there sooner or later. 

I’m nutz...

Cleaning my video files yesterday on my pc,  I recognized that I’ve probably got 2 more videos ready to publish. And one already edited waiting. 

Pull in the reins Brucester...   

This site, and the youtube site, both will have episodes other than Super X context.   The title isn’t “strictly”... 

I know my audience will never be huge. I’ll never make a penny on any of this. But so far I’ve been enjoying. And as long as my Grand kids have access to both, I’m happy.

Talking into a camera/mic isn’t near as intimidating as the first time, but I must admit, I do get tongue tied easily. Editing... I’ve figured out a process that makes it easy for me. Not a smooth motion yet, but getting there. 

Uploading to Youtube is a real clock eater. I’ve had to get up close and personal with my computer. Get to know the ins and outs everyone else knows except for me. Tech language, just kicks my ass, 99% of the time I have no idea what the words are telling me. And then the grumpy shows up...

Thanx Jordan Anderson for your help. 

Those Youtube influencers.... I highly respect the work they do to do what they do. Amazing quality, and talents. 

[reilleclan-blog]

V's Compassion

So, happy new year but honestly I don't find anything happy about it. Considering the shit going on in the world/has been going on for years. Genocides, oppression, senseless death. Sounds like a colonizers wet dream. I can't sleep so I decided to share my thoughts.

V's only "option" for the end of the game "canonically" is getting help from Arasaka(excluding the suicide ending). V can strictly focus on their path, ie looking for Evelyn and Hellman, finishing the quests with Goro relatively fast(shoutout to the ppl that rushed thru the game) and that's that. Their time is running out hell they don't even have to save Takemura's life given that Johnny kinda says "there's no way to help him" so V waits patiently for Judgement Day. Looking back on it V is completely alone aside from Johnny being there(at the motel with the shotty).

V is told to meet with Hanako and decide their fate. Which is so jarring. V can have up to three options(4 including the secret ending?) but instead is left with only one. Now if the player never reaches out to other characters or rushes thru the game/V only looking out for themselves, V would've never received the love and compassion from other characters in the story.

It's so interesting V was mostly just a "small time merc" that's it but when playing side characters quests it shows how many ppl V influences and fights for. If V never had any sort of compassion at all none of this could've been possible none of those bonds could've been formed. Friendship or love all of it could've been lost if V hadn't cared for others. V became a beacon of hope of light for so many ppl's stories.

And yes they would've gotten the "cure" or "help" from Arasaka and u can even be mean asf to Johnny and never care for him but in the Arasaka ending V will still feel a hole in their soul. V would've still been left empty. Left ppl behind, making only room for themselves V is left with the consequences of their actions being half a person. Being empty losing their sense of self(literally?)

Even with ur life ticking down, breath leaving ur lungs, always have something to fight for. For ur life for others for love for passion. Find something to care about and never let go until it's time.

V didn't have to care about Judy after Evelyn's suicide, or Jackie dying, or even helping Johnny fix shit with Rogue. BUT THEY DID B/C V CARED. V was basically killing themselves when they even let Johnny take over their body in the first place. But true V would do it without skipping a beat b/c of their care.

Even the little friends V had after siding with Arasaka was looking at them sideways cause why in the fuck would V ask for Arasaka's help lol. Misty is hurt and then just leaves NC. Viktor is the only "friend" left and considering the endings voicemails V only gets voicemails from ppl wanting work from them. Really having V dumbed down to truly "another merc"

[ edit: If V betrays Songbird in the PL dlc and gets the ulty cure, V is put in the same situation except they betrayed a friend that had zero options/zero help. And doing so, V is left again with their two friends Viktor and Misty except Misty is actually happy to see V. So many parallels in this game I love it so much ]

Which, thinking about it now Night City's compassion is so rare to come by so how did we find it in V? Just thinking out loud lol. Never stop fighting and never stop being urself. Truly what V and Johnny really showed me. AND FUCKING CARE ABOUT PPL CARE ABOUT SOMETHING HAVE SOME FUCKING PASSION FOR ANYTHING. Also im scared Night City is slowly becoming a reality, please find some fucking compassion it'll save us. But yeah I truly love V's compassion for one it's so rare to find and I feel like it's the type of shit ppl don't think twice about. Like ur my "friend but u do so much without even looking for help in return"

—

Also correct me if I'm wrong but I have a theory that Arasaka could've removed 100% of the engram but decided not too cause if they did, V wouldn't be able to carry out their merc life duties.. but idk I just started thinking about it.

Anyways stay safe, and I'm looking for financial assistance if anyone has an enny to spare I'd greatly appreciate it. I'm trying to move out of a toxic household at the age of 24 self diagnosed adhdautistic queer black woman. Even trying to get me affiliated on twitch id appreciate it. Anyways peace out(link in bio)

Edit edit: I'm not trying to be rude but ig this will sound rude anyways but I decided to post this on Reddit, and I know Reddit has "rough critiques" or ie ppl that are loud but don't know wtf they are talking about. And I know I'm not a fucking poet but like if we played the same game, I feel it's not hard to recognize when I say the "canon" ending is the ending that is the "only Choice" V has if they don't help Johnny or don't help Panam... like OBVIOUSLY it's not the actual fucking canon choice holy fuck. Idk ppl on Reddit are like the ppl in school that was never told to stfu? Or something and stopped critically thinking after 12 years old or some shit. I'm all for ppl disagreeing but please if u gonna disagree make some fucking sense when disagreeing omg. I'm not tryna be like "I'm right" but theoretically speaking I am "right" V is known to SHOW COMPASSION THRU OUT THE GAME EVEN SIMPLE ASS QUESTS LIKE NOT WATCHING SOMEONE GET THEIR ASS BEAT. Or giving money to ppl that need it. Like im so confused how we all "played" the same game but had way different experiences. Different experiences to were some ppl just finished the game but didn't think of the different impacts everything had. Such a meaningful game(TO ME) and some ppl all they take away from it is "become famous" "sex scenes"

[yeonchi]

Sea Princesses: Into the Liamverse Part 10: Axolotl Princess Katrina

This is another Liamverse character created by fan pulpina amiga/Pulpina Eg mlp, a newcomer to the Liamverse. You’ll forgive me if things seem a bit all over the place because the creator repeatedly deleted and reuploaded their posts featuring Katrina, editing the design and description each time, so the character description is a combination of what I gathered up to a certain point. Like seriously, make up your mind lol.

Further instalments of this series will be produced when Liam or his fans publish descriptions for more OCs.

Name: Katrina

Occupation: Axolotl Princess

Race: Salacian

Gender: Female

Age: 8

Likes: Being with her friend Polvina, spending time with Isa, treating Delfi like a sister, hanging out with her friends, making cookies, playing video games, pop music, studying, painting, supporting her friends, seeing the stars, Marcello

Dislikes: Fighting, jokes, people treating others badly, Ester and Tubarina taking advantage of her and Polvina, being pranked, her friends being hurt, the thought of others taking Marcello away

Friends:

Polvina (best friend)

Ester (sometimes)

Tubarina (sometimes)

Isa

Delfi

Sirilo

Marli

Hugo

Tata

Bia

Vivi

Lia

Soraia

Daniel Camielez/Giovanny

Elektra

Leia

Maurico

Marcello (formerly rival, currently boyfriend)

Enemies:

Carlos

Swordfish King Marcos

Socita (jealousy)

Personality

Katrina is a kind and friendly princess, however she is Marcello’s rival due to him making fun of her, calling her nicknames like “Katri” or “little princess”. Deep down, Katrina loves her friends and gradually, she becomes affectionate towards Marcello. Katrina is extroverted, kind and cute, however she can also be naive. Although she is best friends with Polvina, the same can’t be said for Ester and Tubarina particularly after the events of The Argument.

Katrina is an only child who never knew her parents. When she was a baby, Katrina’s mother, the Axolotl Queen, became obsessed with Drylander culture and abandoned her baby daughter to live on Dryland. As a result, Katrina’s father, the Axolotl King, was executed by the Shark King Trebon and Katrina was placed in the care of a family whose father was later revealed to be one of Bonnie’s sons. She would later be informed of her identity as a princess and enrolled as a student at the Sea School.

Relationships

Polvina: Polvina is Katrina’s best friend and would never take advantage of her, always supporting Polvina and defending her if anyone tried to hurt her. They met each other from the first day of school and became friends since then. In The Diary, she joined in the search for Polvina’s red notebook. In The Argument, Katrina defended Polvina during the events of said episode, which made her feel bad even though she wasn’t at fault for anything. In Stage Fright, she worked with Ester and Tubarina to help calm Polvina down when she got stage fright.

Ester/Tubarina: While Katrina has interacted with Ester and Tubarina, she doesn’t like how they take advantage of her and Polvina at times.

Marcello: Katrina first met Marcello during the events of The Royal Ball, where she falls in love with him at first sight and introduces herself to him. Their rivalry started sometime following the events of The Gift, where she heard Marcello badmouthing girls and berates him so fiercely that Polvina and her friends had to calm her down. It calmed down gradually over the events of the second season; during Marcello’s coral-induced coma dream as shown in Grow Up, Katrina was shown to be in love with the heavily-muscled Marcello. In reality, Katrina helped take care of Marcello while recovering from his injury in said episode. Katrina loves Marcello for being a bad boy and is the only one who likes Marcello’s victory dance as shown in Ester’s Fear. In The Scare, Katrina sat behind Marcello, clinging onto him as she and her friends listened to his scary stories.

Elektra: Katrina met Elektra during the events of The Return. She was initially suspicious of Elektra due to her interactions with Marcello, but Katrina would overcome those suspicions and become friends with Elektra. This was because Marcello never had any other interactions with Elektra aside from in The Return.

Isa: Isa lives far away from Salacia and so does Katrina. The two of them connected over this and because Katrina is an only child, she considers Isa her little sister and loves her as such.

Curiosities

- Katrina becomes jealous towards Socita after she learned that Marcello took a liking to her in The Piano Lesson.

- She is rather intelligent, similar to Polvina but more so the character of Blu from Rio

- She hates Carlos because he is a bully

- Aside from Isa, Katrina sees Delfi as an older sister

- She compares herself to Courtney (who tf is Courtney?) but the difference is that Katrina is calm and not bossy

- She doesn’t know how to dance (as some would say, she dances like she has two left feet)

- She is able to defend himself with fighting skills

Old designs

These were the initial images for this post reflecting old designs posted previously. As such, the last three images were retrieved from low-quality artefacts from Google Images.

[iwillbreakyourfuckingskull]

Hey, fictive here!

I think my first question to a fictive searching for sourcemates would be: why?

(Ended up kind of addressing the reader as if they were a fictive who wants to seek out sourcemates - i apologise for that, but it made it easier for me to write)

Why do you need to find introjects you share a source with? Why is it something you want?

Is it because you want to talk with someone who went through the same as you? Because they still might not be able to relate to your specific experience. They might have a totally different relation to "canon" than you. Maybe they don't have memories or feelings towards that. Maybe no memories or feelings towards canon or any characters at all. An example: a fictive of the character Hange might have some expectation that I, a Levi fictive, have some sort of feelings, friendly or otherwise, towards them or share memories of us going through hardship together. While I acknowledge that Levi in the manga has a close relationship with Hange, I simply don't (i feel bad about it lol but this is how it is). This could upset both of us, since they might be hurt that I don't share their memories of "us" bonding over shared trauma, and I might be hurt because I feel guilt of not being as close to them as what I feel like I should be

Is it because you miss your friends, family or lover? Because holy shit I get this, but the tough realisation is that those people you miss don't exist and never will. If you meet an introject of the person you miss, they are exactly that - an introject. They aren't the person you long for. They will never be that person. Don't seek out a sourcemate if this is your reason. Example: I didn't seek one out, but when I randomly ran into an introject of the only source character I have any fucking attachment to, I became the biggest mess and was crying until I couldn't breathe - all over a person I had a few short interactions with, but whom I felt like was my soulmate. This lasted months and it's been over a year now and writing this response is making me feel kinda sad again. Fuck I miss that guy, but he's never been real and never will be

Is it because you feel like it could be fun to chat with people whom you have this significant thing in common with? Again, I get it. But just remember that even if you think you are able to distinguish between your own exomemories, canon, and the other fictives, you might still experience what I did - intense grief and heartbreak when you are confronted with the fact that you will never meet those friends/family/lover(s) you had in your exomemories, you will never have that body and those abilities, you will never live in that world. For me, it became a very harsh reality check mixed together with the opposite kinda, where I just wanted to become my own person (singlet, no fusions) and live with Erwin (the guy I love) for the rest of my life. I was in so much pain holy shit and I dont want others to go through this if it can be avoided

I think it can be unhealthy to actively seek out sourcemates, since you might have the wrong expectations and could be hurt, even if you think that you won't. Being friends with sourcemates is all good, though! We are friends with a fellow Levi introject lol (we met him "randomly"), but basing a friendship on the sole reason that you are both introjects from the same work of fiction? That seems like a disaster waiting to happen imo. Maybe it works out for other people! But my personal experiences have been almost exclusively negative

Anyway, it's 4 am and I'm getting too tired to edit this anymore, so sorry that it's long and might not make a lot of sense, but I wanted to give my thoughts on this while I was at the front

maybe this is a controversial opinion, but i don't see the harm in fictives making friends with others from the same source? as long as everyone is respectful of each other?

i do see the potential issue in mixing fictive stuff with kinnie/irl stuff though

idk. ive heard mixed reactions to fictives looking for "sourcemates" and im curious about others' takes?

my questions are— if this is harmful, why? is it truly deeply messing with the trauma of those involved, and if so, how?

[splinteredbone]

baker’s choice

masterlist / navigation / @splinteredmercies

pairing: eddie munson x reader

contains: no spoilers for s4. mentions of drug consumption, edible production, and profanity. not edited, we die like men.

wc: 1.13 k

author’s note: inspired by that one episode of derry girls where michelle makes edibles but they’re scones. anyway, please enjoy girlboss!reader ‘cause sis is literally running an edible empire in the sleepy town of hawkins all by themselves!! lmk if i should continue this. i might because i think the ending is lacking but i literally wrote this while at my graduation ceremony lol. (p.s., all my reader inserts are gender neutral, poc friendly, and very vague with the physical characteristics unless stated otherwise.)

Daylight had ceased from entering your kitchen hours ago, your counter was littered with baking utensils, and you fought the urge to lick the double chocolate brownie batter off the whisk.

Under any other circumstances, you would lick some of it off before throwing it in the sink to be washed, food safety be damned. But you knew better. The thick batter on the whisk wasn’t the usual. Your recipe had been altered to include one more ingredient: weed.

You didn’t like how weed made you feel while high—anxious, paranoid, and grogginess. The side effects never changed whether you smoked it or ate it. But, fuck, did edibles bring in money.

Not that you really needed it. Both of your parents worked good jobs, but it sent them miles away from Hawkins for months at a time and they sent a hefty check every two weeks. It left you alone with nothing to do, so baking—cooking in general, really—became a mechanism to avoid the reality of your house being way too big for one teenager in high school.

You set your timer to twenty-five minutes and placed it back on the counter. It’d be enough time to clean up before sitting down to cut up brownies and individually wrap them with plastic wrap and your labels.

You paused when you realized Jenny’s cookies were still sitting on the dining room table. Christ, I forgot to call her. She’ll have my head, it’s for her fucking birthday party.

Shaking your head, you went to your telephone to call her about the cookies. Meanwhile, you thought about how you had to go to Eddie Munson’s trailer to get more weed. Ugh.

.

It was nearing midnight when you pulled up to Munson’s trailer. You didn’t want to be here, not so late and on a Friday night, but you needed to replenish your weed stock. You had a large order to be prepped for Saturday night. (Or was it for tonight?)

You exited your car and were about to knock when Munson’s door swung open.

The lanky man leaned on the doorway, watching as you squinted at the sudden amount of light. “You look like shit.”

“It’s midnight and I’ve been awake since five. I think I can allow myself to look like shit, Munson.” You pushed past him and entered the trailer. “I’m here for the usual.”

You scanned your surroundings and realized it was… neater. Frowning briefly, you turned back to Munson, only to see his eyes snap back to your face.

No wonder he was quiet, you mused, not at all bothered that he was checking you out.

You were wearing shorts—ones you had made yourself from an old pair of Levi’s that had become too stained from mud and grass to be salvaged—and a band t-shirt from middle school that somehow still fit you.

“Nice shirt.”

You stared at Munson for a moment and then looked down. The painted faces of KISS stared up at you. “Thanks. I think it’s a real shame they stopped painting their faces. It’s what really brought that mysterious appeal to them, you know?”

You looked back up at Munson. A beat of silence ensued. You became worried and leaned toward him. “Hey, are you okay? I just want my weed, I can always come back in the morning.”

He blinked, seemingly coming out of a daze. He didn’t seem high though. You watched as he turned away, mumbling something to himself that you could not decipher.

“What do you even do with all this?” Munson questioned as he brought you what you wanted.

“Why are you asking?”

“I doubt you can smoke it all, not with how frequently you’re here.” He tilted his head to the side and smiled. “And I asked around too. No vices of any kind. So, what do you do with all that weed?”

You fought back a shiver at hearing Munson say your name—softly, intimately, downright reverently—at the end of his question.

“My only vice is sex.” The statement fell out of your mouth faster than your brain could stop it. Horrified, you sputtered, “That’s a joke—just a really, really dumb joke—”

Munson laughed, harder than you’d ever seen him laugh. Something about his laugh made you feel better. You laughed with him and felt your shoulders relax.

“I make edibles,” you answered his question from earlier. “I sell to the people who don't like smoking it, don’t want their parents finding any buds laying around, or too lazy to make it themselves.”

“And people actually buy it?”

You scoffed. “I always come back to buy more weed, don’t I?”

You grabbed the bag out of Munson’s hand with a little more heat than necessary. Throwing the money down on the nearest flat surface, you started walking out. “See you around, Munson.”

“Wait—! I didn’t mean—” You turned around with raised eyebrows. Munson continued sputtering, “I just think that it’s… cool. That’s all.”

He leaned on the doorway to the trailer, and you could tell he was trying to look nonchalant.

An idea popped up in your head. Debating with yourself, you looked between Munson and your car.

You motioned toward your car. “Want to try one?”

He jumped away from the doorway and made a beeline to the passenger seat. “Thought you’d never ask.”

.

You felt odd brining Eddie Munson into your home. It was one thing to enter his trailer—most people with an illegal vice in Hawkins went inside of his trailer. But no one had been in your house before, you always made deliveries and drop-offs to avoid so many people entering your space.

You toed off your shoes and Munson followed; your sock clad feet made no noise compared to his boots thudding behind you.

“What are you craving? I have double chocolate brownies and M&M cookies.” You asked as you entered the kitchen and turned your head to look at him. You didn’t why, but he seemed very attractive all of a sudden.

“Baker’s choice”

Rolling your eyes, you hummed in confirmation and pushed away your earlier thoughts. Grabbing one of the many individually wrapped brownies from earlier, you chucked at him and he caught it flawlessly.

How can someone look good catching a pot brownie? You thought, frustrated with yourself.

You watched, like a fucking creep, as he ate the brownie.

“This is really good,” Munson said in between bites.

“Thanks.” You looked away sheepishly, leaning against the counter. Feeling emboldened, you added, “If you think that’s good, you should try my lasagna. I’ve perfected my recipe over the years.”

You dared a glance at Munson.

“Is that an invitation?”

You shrugged. Now, it was your turn to look nonchalant. “Maybe.”

He beamed at you. “It’s a date then.”

[hyunsuks-beanie]

Enhypen Reaction to Fans Shipping You with Another Member

Mellow speaks: Sorry this got a teensy bit delayed, I was just celebrating my brightly lol. Enjoy you guys!! 

Tagging: @sweethyuka @yedamology @enhacolor @axartia @hyunsuksmygod @yogurteume @duolingofanaccount (send me an ask to join the taglist!!)

Heeseung

Keeping your relationship a secret was something he had never been a pro for, but given your popularity as one of the top soloists in the country and Enhypen's image as one of the classiest boy groups around, he knows he's gonna have to do it for the greater good. After all, as much as it annoyed him, Heeseung definitely knew what would become of him and the boys if news that he was dating ever got out. 

But the secret left a bitter taste in his mouth more often than not, especially when he saw some other idols getting too close to you and making fans go gaga. So can you imagine the shock on his face when he randomly logged on to Twitter, only to see the hashtag Jake and Y/N trending worldwide? He knew that all the Aussie had done was lend you a handkerchief during Music Bank, a soft smile on his face as he watched you take your first win. Your boyfriend was on the other side of the stage, so he couldn't have helped, and it felt nice seeing his mate warming up to you. 

But right now, all he feels is annoyance, his fingers quick to dial your number as he waits for you to pick up. "I'm the only one you love, right?" is what he asks, a pout on his face as you assure him that you only have eyes for him. Yet he isn't satisfied, leaving the dorms as quickly as he can, just to go see you and have you give him the comfort he needs. 

Jay

To be fair, he's always been surprised at how people have never been able to guess just how whipped he is for you. Do they not see the way he gives you heart eyes every time he's on Inkigayo? He just can't help it, you look so adorable standing there reading from your cue cards. And the smile you throw him whenever Enhypen grab a win is to die for. Yeah, he's in love. 

And being in love for him means being possessive as well, so it's no surprise that the first thing he feels is anger when he realises that you're being shipped with none other than Sunoo, his groupmate Sunoo. The reason? Stupid as hell, or that's what he scoffs out anyway, skimming through articles that claim that you winked at the younger boy while handing him the trophy the other week. "That wink was meant for me," he all but screams, catching the other boys by surprise as his eyes land on Sunoo, sending him into a panic. But it's not like he's gonna do anything irrational, because he knows it's pointless.

So what he does instead is stomping out of the dorm, only barely remembering to grab his mask so as to not be recognised as he makes his way over to your dorm, needing to feel your love while he lies in your lap, holding you close to himself by the waist. And that's what he gets too, a couple pouts and dramatic arm flailing being all that you need to melt.

Jake

How is it that you always manage to get shipped with every one of his members except him, when in reality, he's the one you're dating? This is why he almost hates the fact that both your group and Enhypen are among the most popular idol groups around, because it means having to constantly come face-to-face at award ceremonies, variety shows, and even having clashing comebacks. Don't get him wrong, he absolutely loves getting to see you backstage and kissing you luck before your performance, but what he hates is having to stand to the side and watch your interaction with one of his members being blown out of proportion when he's the one who...you guess it, kissed you luck. 

It's no different this time either, your reaction to a joke cracked by Jay becoming the center of attraction and making it to all the gossip columns, the ship Twitter blowing up with all sorts of theories and edits and whatnot, every single one of them making your boyfriend sick to the stomach. He doesn't like this at all, and he hates feeling jealous of his best friend, even though he knows there isn't even an ounce of truth in the articles, just speculation, and that too, all incorrect.

He needs to get a grip on himself, and to do that, he needs to see you first. Needs to feel your hug, needs to feel your head resting on his chest as you tell him he's the only one for you.

Sunghoon

It just had to be you, right? You just had to be paired with Ni-Ki for the dance-off during the award ceremony, the sponsor's way of bringing the talented 4th gen idols together into a single performance. He just didn't know who to root for, his mate or his partner, finding himself getting lost in your moves because he already had Ni-Ki's memorized by heart. And at the same time, there's also that twang of jealousy, wanting to have been the one who got to share the stage with you. But that jealousy was short-lasting, or that's what he thought anyway.

Because barely two days later, that green feeling was back, his eyes landing on all the shipping edits featuring his maknae and you, be it on Twitter or on Instagram. He couldn't even get rid of them, because his entire feed was filled with you anyway, and that just meant having to see those edits again and again. Knowing how petty he can get when jealous, Ni-Ki had taken it upon himself to talk to him, but Sunghoon wasn't gonna talk to anyone before talking to you. 

And so, it was up to you to make him smile again, deciding to stop by and make him see the logic he had stubbornly shut his eyes too. Sure, it was hard, but when has your boyfriend ever been able to say no to you? Before long, he's back to being the dorky, shy Sunghoon that you love. All he needs is some affection from his love. 

Sunoo

Sitting down on the couch, he was more than excited to watch the special feature of KBS, happy to see you getting getting recognition you deserve and helping Sunghoon host the special segment in Wonyoung's absence. You looked so adorable standing there in your cute little dress, twirling for the camera as you showed off your fantastic chemistry with your boyfriend's groupmate. And it wasn't exactly staged either, seeing as how you had actually grown quite comfortable with the elder over the course of your relationship with Sunoo, considering him to be an elder brother of sorts. 

But when have people stopped from misinterpreting friendship as something more? Yours was a case no different, the ship game starting barely minutes into the episode's beginning. Of course, it wasn't until later that he noticed though, his brows getting furrowed together as he took in the "evidence" suggesting that you had a crush on Sunghoon. Knowing how he can be, it wasn't a surprise that before long, he had become a grumpy, pouty mess. 

Luckily though, the boys had been quick to act, calling you up and filling you in on what had happened. Because they know you're the only one who can get their boy back to his smiling self, an awkwardly smiling Sunghoon standing by the door in an attempt to hear how you're getting by.

Jungwon

It wasn't Heeseung's fault, really. And neither was it yours, something that Jungwon knew in his heart. Because in the end, all you were doing was taking help from the elder in selecting a gift for your boyfriend, wanting a guy's opinion to back your own choice. But of course, the paps wouldn't understand that, instead choosing to have a feast day snapping two of the hottest idols going around the town together. The tabloids were on it in an instant, the "Are they dating?" question buzzing in the air like static. All it took was a couple of photos, and social media was already in a frenzy about the "Hot new pair."

What the world didn't know, though, was that you were already dating Heeseung's groupmate, Jungwon, and were very happy with him. Of course they didn't know that, and that's the reason why the Hee-Y/N ship made it to the top of the worldwide trends. And that's how it had come into your boyfriend's sight too, a frown making its way over to his face as his eyes skimmed through the tags and articles, growing deeper with every word. 

He looked so adorable barging into your dorm, a pout on his face as he demanded answers he knew he didn't need. And as if he wasn't already feeling bad enough about it, what made it worse was when you came clean about your "outing," just so he wouldn't feel neglected or upset. All he can do is give you a hug that's as tight as his chest feels every time he sees you, whispering soft I love yous in your ear.

Ni-Ki

It was pretty much incomprehensible for Ni-Ki how the paps managed to snag pictures of Jungwon with you, when all that the two of you did was exchange pleasantries, while they failed to even see the kiss that he had placed to your cheek. Yeah, your relationship with Enhypen's maknae was a secret kept well, but that doesn't mean it gave the media the right to create the mass frenzy they did, over something that was completely unnecessary and stupid. There was absolutely no need for the world to know that you had been talking to Jungwon backstage, and the drama that ensued was even more uncalled for.

What drama, you ask? That of the shipping of the members of two of the most popular idol groups around, mentions of just how adorable the two of you are together doing the rounds on social media and sending everyone in a frenzy over the new OTP, without a single soul noticing that you, in fact, are taken, by none other than Jungwon's bandmate.

Ni-Ki rather took it in his stride, cracking up as he showed you the messed up theories people were coming up with. But it wasn't all that hard to see it was affecting him just a little bit, and being the amazing partner that you were, it was only natural that you took it upon yourself to comfort him. His favorite food, an hour or two of cuddling, a couple (or maybe a dozen) kisses, and he was back to being your dork.