#oh shush it. ( grim talks ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hannahssimblr · 2 months ago

Text

Jen and I used to play takeaway bingo when we were teenagers. You wind up at enough of them between midnight and two, and start noticing a pattern. Someone fighting—one point for your card. Someone forgetting what they ordered—another. Someone trying to get into the locked staff toilet. Someone kissing. A hen party singalong. The presence of a blow-up doll. Someone passed out in a booth, getting sick outside the door, a drink exploding over the linoleum, hapless drunks jostled around by bouncers.

The kebab shop is quiet tonight. One point for my card, for the guy snoring in the booth next to Evie and me.

She eats in silence under the lights, those grim fluorescents that hum faintly and cast a contaminated grey hue over everything—the kind I always thought made the food look suspect.

Still, she doesn’t care. She shovels it in. A kebab, handfuls of chips, chicken goujons, leaning over the paper packaging with greasy hands poised like a connoisseur of drunk food. Touch nothing but what you intend to eat. Can’t trust the surfaces. Never risk touching your clothing with saucy hands.

I watch her with admiration, fingers drumming idly on the side of my Pepsi can. I told her I wasn’t hungry, even though my stomach’s been growling since ten, and almost believe it myself when I say it. Hunger’s easier to ignore than the blow to my pride that would come from admitting I can’t afford a bag of chips. I long for the tacos I left on the plate earlier. Thirteen euros for them, sitting now in the bin in the Mexican place while I starve here.

But here I am anyway, watching her eat, the surreal, satisfying feeling of being with her again. Her. In the flesh instead of in memory. The different, less triumphant reality than what I had imagined.

She eyes me while I twist open the can, the hiss of it seeming to remind her I’m here.

“Wow, greedy,” she says.

“Yeah, I’m a mess. Might have to have me airlifted out after this feast. Here, can I’ve a chip?” I reach for the bag, and she swats my hand away.

“No. Look at you—doing that thing boys always complain about. Girls not ordering anything and then stealing their food. This is modern feminism.”

I laugh. “Oh, come on. Just one, for Christ's sake.”

She eyes me distrustfully as I pluck one skinny chip out.

“You want to count it?” I say. “Make sure I haven’t another hidden in my hand?”

“Ugh, shush for a minute,” she says, this edge of desperation in her voice. “Please, I really just want to eat this.”

I lean back, taking conservative sips of my drink while she tears into her food. It’s a bit insane, the ferocity at which she goes at it. This kind of relentless feasting, head down, elbows out, chewing with mechanical focus. Like if she stopped, she’s have to think about talking to me again.

“Skipped dinner?” I say eventually, and she wipes a blob of sauce from the corner of her mouth. “Didn’t have time to eat today.”

“Ah.”

“You went to some Mexican place earlier,” she says between bites. “The guys were saying.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm, risky move, isn’t it? Bringing you to a Mexican restaurant?”

“Why’s that?”

She shrugs, and a piece of kebab meat drops onto the paper. “Because you’ve probably had, you know, actual real Mexican food when you lived in the states. That’s what everyone always says, isn’t it? Like, ‘oh, you don’t know Mexican food until you’ve had it in America’, or something like that.”

“I imagine they’d probably say that about Mexico, too.”

She just smiles.

“Well, yeah, the food was okay. It was nice to see Claire and Shane again. That was the real reason I went out. They look good.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, of course. Shane’s gotten real fit, you know? He’s in great shape.”

Evie lets out a derisive laugh. “Yeah.”

“Hm?”

“Like, yeah. He’s working out the whole time. Twice a week home to train, then the coach has him sanctioned to the gym every other day, just about. He’s gone full protein-shake mode, at this stage. I assume he’s aspiring to become the Hulk.”

Feel my smile thinning. “Good for him.”

“Mm. Bit miserable, don’t you think?”

“Clearly you do.”

“Well,” she pauses thoughtfully, swallowing a bite of kebab. “He doesn’t do anything fun, in my view. He doesn’t have free time anymore, and his coach has all these rules, even, about things he’s not allowed to do off the pitch. It’s like a totalitarian regime.”

“Alright,” I say, and her face falls.

She doesn’t speak then. Just wipes her mouth with a serviette and shifts in her seat. Eyes locked on the food, though there’s something stiff in her posture now.

I sip my drink, watching her a bit as she pretends to focus on the next bite, but it’s like she’s eating something made of rubber, something unappetizing, eyes zoned out, like she’s left the room without her body.

The silence drags on longer than it should.

“So come on, Evie, what’s been going on with you? I can’t believe it’s been so long since we last spoke, to be honest. That’s crazy.”

“I know,” she says, flatlined voice. “Seems we lost touch there at one point.”

I hesitate. “Yeah, I regret that. Life got so busy so quickly and… it was all a whirlwind, really. But, I… uh, I thought of you often, Evie. I always imagined we’d run into each other again.”

“Ah, well, what can you do? Here we are. A year and a half on.” I reach for her arm across the table, a bid for connection, to bridge a gap between us, but she moves away, pretends to want a drink from her milkshake.

Nice, okay. Good to know where I stand, at least. I fist my hand in my lap. “You look really different. I always think of you with that really long hair you had.”

“Yeah. I cut it all off, as you can see.”

“And do you still run? And swim? Do you do all that stuff you used to?”

“No, actually I don’t,” she says. “I suppose I fell out of the habit when I moved here. Don’t really do most of the things I used to.” She fixes me with a new look, eyebrow quirked in some expression of defiance, like hey, you don’t know me at all anymore, and I will punish you for trying to. “How’s Berlin, anyway? Better than here, after all?”

“Yeah, really good. Hey,” again I move to reach out to her, knowing it’s futile before my hand rises above the table top. Drop it back down to my lap. “If you’re angry with me for losing touch—”

“Why’re you wondering about that?” she cuts in.

“You’ve gone chilly on me all of a sudden, I don’t know.”

Her eyes widen with fury. “It’d be a bit intense if I was still angry about something like that, wouldn’t it?”

I say nothing.

“Good to know you got my email, by the way. It was a pity it wasn’t worth responding to, apparently.”

I can’t help but laugh. In shock, really, instead of amusement. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. Yeah, I could have dealt with it better, but I was getting to know a new city, and there were all these new people… I left your email sitting there a bit too long and then, well, I suppose it started feeling like it’d be weird of me to respond after so long.”

“You didn’t really try, exactly, did you?”

I let that one sink in for a minute. Rougher than I expected. I always knew I should have tried harder, but I thought she’d just... forgive me, like she was supposed to. I didn’t want to be the bad guy here. I wanted proof I wasn’t one.

Say something. “You could have sent another message.” A reflex. Hollow sounding, and words sticking in my throat like they belong to someone else. Some weak little man.

Her face seethes. Oh, yes, good. She loathes me. Loathing is preferable to indifference. I might actually take that. The horrible, ugly victory of it. The proof she feels. Felt. Missed. Longed, maybe, for me to fill some dark and terrible hole. I hate the thought and the feeling. Sick triumph, like the smell of decay. I didn’t want to ruin you, not really, Evie. I just needed proof I mattered.

“Look, I–”

“You have a new piercing in your ear,” she says, sharp jerk of her head, like, no. Don’t dare go on. Her features swiftly neutralise as she goes back to picking at her food while I touch my finger to the silver hoop through my left helix bone.

“Uh, yeah. I did. I figured–” clear my throat and adjust in the seat. “You know, since my dad already hates the other two, might as well swing for a third.” It was a piercing I got done in Slovenia. Drunk. “It hurt,” I offer. Bled, in fact. She might relish the thought, but I don’t disclose it.

“Little baby,” she replies, smile tugging at her lips. “I got the same one done when I was like sixteen and it wasn’t bad at all.”

“I remember the piercings you had,” I say. “You had four on one ear. Can I see?”

And she turns her head for me, revealing a single hoop, the rest of her ear dotted with tiny punctures. Emptiness now in places that used to be studded with silver and gold.

“I took them out,” she says, rueful. “They didn’t feel like me anymore.”

And I am too—rueful about it. “Damn. I thought they were cool.”

She hums in vague agreement and glances around, eyes on a group of rowdy lads who come in, chanting some tuneless chorus on their way to the counter. “So, any other surprises up your sleeve?”

Yes, literally, up my sleeve. I risk it for another chip. She lets me have it, and I pop it, cold and rubbery, into my mouth as I tug my sleeve up for her, exposing the soft underside of my forearm to the fluorescent light.

“Did you design it?”

“No, I just thought it was cool.”

“Ah, okay. And like, does it mean something in particular? The mango, like. Bit unusual.”

“Uh, no, actually. It really doesn’t. It’s just I was in Thailand and kind of thought it’d be fun to get one.” How devoid of depth and opinion do I sound now, really? I think. Have yet to come up with a decent reason to have a tattoo—can’t even formulate a lie about its meaning. Just cos. That’s why. Stupid thing, really. Artistry is impressive, yes, but I’m not even sure I pull it off.

“Thailand, yeah? When was that?”

“June,” I say. “I always wanted to go. I think everyone should, if they can, to be honest.”

“Well, go on, then,” her straw squeaks in the lid of her milkshake. “Tell me all about it.”

“Oh, I can’t do it justice with words, really.” I retrieve my phone, aware that photos are safer than conversation. “Here, I can show you.”

“Yeah,” she shrugs, and gets up. Slips into the booth next to me. “New phone, I see. I thought you’d still have that piece of shit you used to.”

“Had to upgrade. Needed maps to survive Berlin.”

“Hope you’re making good use of the torch feature.”

I chuckle. “Alright, well, let’s look at my holiday pictures when you’re ready.”

She leans over but never close enough to touch as I scroll through Bangkok temples, islands, markets. She’s performing interest, laughing at the right moments, asking non-probing questions.

When her hair accidentally brushes my arm, she yanks away with a whispered “Sorry” like I might be contagious.

“Here’s Koh Samui. Near the end of the trip.”

“I could tell. You look aggressively tanned.”

“Yeah, I tan easily.”

“I remember.” A flash of something genuine in her voice.

“There’s a photo somewhere of a monkey that jumped on my shoulder. Let me find it—” My thumb scrolls too far. “Oops. Uh...”

A photo of Astrid and me flashes on screen. At the lake. Barely wearing anything.

Panic detonates, my thumb fumbles, scrolling too fast, Jonas asleep on the plane. Then back again. Astrid. My hand on her arse. Nowhere to hide from it.

I can’t exactly lie or say she’s my friend.

“Uh, yeah,” I look up from the photograph too fast, my thumb stills on her waist, mid-kiss, glowing on screen. “That’s my girlfriend, Astrid,” I admit. Feeble smile. Might as well be confessing to a crime.

Evie’s gone rigid in her seat. Not smiling, just observing. “Yeah, she’s very pretty,” she says.

“She’s… yeah. She’s absolutely beautiful.”

I flip to another photo. If we’re doing this. Astrid posing for the camera, hair sleek and straight, so long it brushes the waistband of her bikini. In moments like this, I see her as others do. Objectively. She’s extraordinary.

How’d you pull her? They always ask, and I have no idea how to answer.

Evie sits there in this calm way that makes me wish she’d just scream, or something.

“Wow. Yeah. There she is,” she says. Her eyes flick to the men at the counter, clinging to each other’s coat sleeves, bawling out their orders, rocking unsteadily as a unit. And it occurs to me that, though they fill the place with noise, her silence is louder than all of them.

I shut the phone off quietly. Slide it back into my pocket.

“We should go back, I think,” she says, all mild again. “They’ll all be wondering where we are.”

“Yeah, sure,” I reach for her food wrappers to help, but she tells me no. Takes them herself.

The men start on her as she moves.

Here, my mate fancies you. Can he have your number? He’s a gentle lover, he is. Ye’d have a beautiful life together.

Evie looks bored. Takes her coat from the booth and zips it to the top.

“We going?”

“Yeah, we can,” I hurry after her to hold the door.

“This was nice,” I say as she slips out ahead of me. “Thanks for the chips.”

“It’s fine. Thanks for coming with me.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

#lucky boy 2012 #YIKES #yes I changed the vibe #i felt like she kind of forgave him too easily the first time #not that she truly did #but she acted like it was fine #which GIRL #it isn't #all men are rats including Jude #a semi-lovable rat tho

35 notes · View notes

emlovslennon · 6 months ago

Text

bed chem

plot: it’s your first yet last year at Hogwarts. You finally decided to attend as a freshly 18 year old young woman, but following being put in the Slytherin house, you fancy the long haired professor that owned it.

(yes, this is based off a sabrina carpenter song because i love her and this song is so him).

warnings: smut, age gap (the reader IS AN ADULT), snape did not know her as a child, fluff ending cuz why not.

“So what took you so long to attend Hogwarts?” Your friend, Hermione asked. You and Hermione were in the same grade, she was just a year younger than you were.

“I ‘dunno, I just thought I’d give it a try.” You replied. You felt zoned out nearly the entire morning until a tall, fit, man walked past you. He looked as if he was the human embodiment of a raven.

“Moine… W-who is that?” You whispered, slightly nudging her shoulder.

“Oh, him? That’s Professor Snape. I wouldn’t bother him, he can be quite grouchy.” Hermione explained. You could hear him talking in the distance, he was merely a few feet away from you. Sounded like he was discussing grades with some student that, from the sounds of it, was not doing well.

“Oh my god, his voice.” You nearly squealed. Hermione shushed you almost immediately, followed by a giggle.

“He has real good hearing, y’know. He could be listening in.” Hermione giggled. You couldn’t say she was wrong, because before too long, Snape turned directly in your direction, walking toward you. Your heart began to pound as your eyes went from his face to the floor.

“Good morning, Miss L/N.” He greeted, his grim voice making you tremble.

“H-hello, Professor… um” You stuttered. You could have sworn your brain stopped working. I mean, Hermione just told you his name and you already forgot.

“Snape, silly girl. You should be becoming accustomed to it. You belong to Slytherin. I would start to become less ditzy, if I were you.” Snape scolded. Your blushing became so severely evident. You felt so embarrassed, but Merlin, he was attractive. You felt ashamed over how easily the most inappropriate thoughts scattered your mind at the sight of him.

“Y-yes, Professor Snape. I-I have your class, right?” You asked. Hermione gave you a look, as if to say, “why did you ask that?” Mainly because most students were horrified of him, and pretended to not know when his class was to avoid attending.

“Yes, you do. In fact, it starts right now.” He replied, the bell ringing for first period echoing across the cafeteria.

“Follow me.” He said. You turned to Hermione and gave her a goodbye hug before getting up and heading to class.

“So, I see you’re befriended with Hermione. The insufferable know-it-all.” He blurted out, clearly trying to start a conversation.

“Y-yes. I am. We’ve been friends since children, I just never attended Hogwarts until now. I think it would be better to graduate here.” You asserted.

“Makes sense, I suppose.” He responded. Your face was burning red, your hands were clammy. You couldn’t believe you made yourself such a nervous wreck over a man you just met. You prayed to Merlin he didn’t notice, but from your look alone, it could have been evident from a mile away.

“You look flushed, Miss Y/N. Why is that?” He questioned. Your heart sank. You felt as if your chest was gonna burst from how hard it was pounding. How do I explain to him he’s the “cute guy with the long black robe and the thick accent that I think I’d have really good bed chemistry with?” Simply impossible.

“I just, um. Don’t feel good.” You lied.

“Funny, you were just fine when you were snickering about me to your insolent friend.” He retorted.

“How did you know?” You asked. His brows furrowed up slightly, knowing he caught red handed.

“You know, Miss Y/N, it’s rude to talk behind someone’s back. Surely you’re smart enough to realize that.” He says, his voice lowering. At this point, we stopped walking and he stood in front of you, nearly towering over your body.

“I… It wasn’t bad. I just, I just said I liked your accent.” You stated. He chuckled darkly at your poor attempt to defend yourself.

“Is that so? We will discuss this more after class.” He said sternly. Discuss what? The fact you liked his accent? What kind of absurdity was that? Needless to say, you had no room to really complain. I mean, alone, together, with the guy you find hot. What’s wrong with that?

After class, although your body started to tremble, you made your way to his desk. He was still sat, his hands on the table clasped together.

“Sit.” He demanded softly. You obeyed almost immediately.

“What was it you wanted to discuss?” You spoke. The awkward silence between you two was damning, especially because you already know what he was going to talk to you about.

“I believe you know very well what I wanted to speak to you about. I know what you’re trying to pull, Miss Y/N.” Snape said, your breath hitched.

“I-I don’t know what you’re-“ you were shut up by the sound of your Professor getting out of his seat and walking towards you and kneeling right in front of your body.

“Silence. If you came here merely to bed me, I’d have you greatly mistaken. First and foremost, if that be the case, which it most certainly is, I suggest you actually pay attention in my class and not spend your time daydreaming and drawing while your know-it-all friend blurts out the answers that nobody else knows. Secondly, you can’t even attempt to deny your attraction when I can see your thighs trembling with lust. I know what you want, but I’m not so sure you deserve it, yet. I believe I’ll need some… Proof, if you will.” Snape confessed. If your panties weren’t fucked before, they sure as hell are now. You could feel your wetness seeping onto the chair. You mentally slapped yourself for wearing a skirt and no tights.

“Professor… I-I-“ You shushed yet again as he put his index finger to your lips.

“Severus. Do not call me ‘Professor’ right now. I am not your Professor in this moment, do you understand? You prove to me your… Submission, and you’re no longer my student, nor I your Professor.” Severus reprimanded. You nodded your head vigorously.

“I-I know what would make sense to me in this very moment.” You mumbled, nearly a whisper. Severus raised his brow at you in curiosity.

“I think you picking me up and turning me around over your desk just makes sense.” You whispered, leaning towards his ear. You could have sworn you heard a growl coming from him.

“Very well. Get up and bend over my desk. Now.” Severus demanded, sternly this time around. When you hesitated slightly, just by the mere shock of it all, he picked you up by your shoulders and pushed you into his desk, nearly slamming your chest onto the top of it.

“Silly girl. Can’t obey one task? Such a shame.” He mumbles. He lifts your skirt up to your abdomen and pulls down your cherry decorated panties.

“How juvenile. But, I mustn’t lie, I do enjoy them.” He compliments. Well, kinda. His fingers run across your soaked slit, he groans at the feeling of his fingers fondling your wetness.

“Such a needy little thing. Tell me, Miss Y/N, what is it that you want from me, hm?” He asks, his voice is low and seductive. You could not believe this was happening. There was no way in hell you could ever tell Hermione about this.

“Y-your fingers. Please, Severus.” You pleaded. Severus chuckled darkly at your pathetic pleas and shoved two fingers inside your core. You gasped at the intrusion. Severus made sure to keep his thumb on your bundle of nerves. For a man his students think get no action, this man knows what he’s doing.

“This? How pathetic. But, I must say, you’re such an obedient little girl. So eager for me.” Severus praised. Your legs shook at his vicious attack on your core. You moaned loudly, feeling a large hand cover your mouth.

“Quiet, incompetent girl.” Severus whispered. You felt so embarrassed at the fact that you were already getting close. But it felt all too overwhelming.

“Already close? How feeble. So pathetic. I suppose I should let you finish, hm?” Severus cooed. You were way too caught into finishing until you felt a harsh slap to your rear.

“Answer me. Or I won’t.” Severus ordered.

“Y-yes. S-Severus. P-please.” You managed to stutter out. He was right, you were pathetic. Nearly drooling on your Professors desk as he fingered you mercilessly. But it couldn’t end here, you wouldn’t let it.

“I-I need more, Severus. Please.” You begged. Severus looked at you with a confused look. As if he was shocked that you really wanted him to violate you.

“What do you want?” He asked, mere whisper.

“I need you to deflower me.” You mustered. Severus eyes widened, clearly taken aback by what you said.

“Y/N, I need to understand something right now. Once I start, I will not contain myself. Losing your innocence is something that is not of little importance. When it’s gone, it is gone. It will belong to me.” Severus clarified. You nodded.

“I don’t care, I need you entirely too much. I need you to bed me, right here, right now.” You admitted. It was with this admission that something changed within Severus. He picked you up and turned you around onto your back, now laying on his desk. You covered your face in nervousness as he removed his trousers. Without warning, he pushed into you. Causing you to yelp out.

“Y-you couldn’t even give me a warning?” You squeaked out.

“Why should I? I told you. I’m not containing myself. Explaining myself again would be futile.” Severus grunted. However, seeing you had tears prickling out of your eyes from the violation, he stayed still. Waiting for you to let him move.

“S-sorry, I’m just trying to get used to y-“ you stopped dead in your tracks as Severus cupped your face with his hands and kissed you. It wasn’t aggressive nor rough, but passionate and quite…. meaningful. You moaned into the kiss as he sped up, your skin colliding in a sinful orchestra.

“Gods, you are beautiful, Y/N. Does it still hurt?” Severus panted into your ear. The burn was lingering, yet fading. You became engulfed in bliss as he began to roughly thrust into you.

“N-no. Y-you f-feel so good. Don’t s-stop.” You moaned out. You expected Severus’ hand to come over your mouth, yet nothing. It’s like he didn’t care anymore. Which to be fair, he shouldn’t. It was late, and one little moan shouldn’t be so loud that everyone in Hogwarts heard it.

“I do? You’re enchanting, you know that?” Severus chuckled. You were dazed beyond recognition. It was so deliciously sinful that it was too much for your little mind to process. Severus bent his head down to attack your neck, for sure to leave hickies in the morning. You make a mental note to wear a scarf for tomorrow.

“F-faster.” You squeaked. You felt yourself getting so feverishly close, so close yet so far. it was killing you. Severus took the hint that your climax was approaching by you tightening around him and your pants and moans were up an octave. Severus grabbed your hips and began to, for lack of a better term, pound into you. You looked up at his disheveled face. His raven hair was slightly stuck to his forehead from sweat, brows furrowed slightly, and his mouth agape, panting like a dog in heat.

“You’re close, I know you are. I want you to release for me, lovely girl. Can you do that?” Severus panted out. You nodded lively as you felt your sweet release wash over like a wave. Your legs shook at the force and you bit your lip to prevent a scream, causing blood to trickle down your bottom lip.

“Foolish girl, don’t do that.” Severus reprimanded. Taking his sleeve and wiping the blood from your chin.

“I-I want it on my… face.” You whimpered. Severus stopped thrusting and looked at you.

“You want me to…. Violate your face is such a way?” He questioned.

“Yes, yes I do.” You panted. Severus gave you a look of complete disbelief, but pulled out of you and grab your hand to help you stand up. He giggled as you wobbled when you stood.

“Get on your knees, then.” He demanded darkly. You wasted no time getting on your knees and sticking your tongue out for him.

“What an indecent minx you are.” He said. He began to stroke his member at a vigorous pace, biting his lip in the process.

“Gods, keep your mouthing open. Sweet, obedient, girl.” He moaned as he released on your tongue, face, and clothed breasts. Once he was done, his left hand cupped your face, admiring your profane beauty. He let go and went to grab tissues to wipe your face.

“I see I… painted your blouse.” He joked. Your white blouse covered with his semen.

“Well, I’d assume that’s what washing machines are for.” You retorted, causing him to chuckle.

“I assume this is a one time occasion?” Severus asked. You could hear the slight disappointment hinted in his voice.

“Not unless you want it to be. You interest me, Severus.” You replied. Severus’ face lit up as he heard the confirmation. He cupped your chin and gave you one last kiss.

“I’ll see in the morning, wicked girl.” He whispered. You nodded and smiled as you zipped your skirt back up and walked out of his office and back to your dorm. Gods, the excuse you’re gonna have to make up to Hermione.

HEYYYY GUESS WHOS BACK BACK AGAINNNN!!! Yes, I’m having a BAD SNAPE phase so my apologies BUTTTT I HOPE YOU LIKE THISSSS!!!

#severus snape #severus x reader #professor snape #snape smut #harry potter #snape #smut

51 notes · View notes

acetrappolaxeveryone · 4 months ago

Note

Ace : *Dreaming of a woman.*

Yandere!Silver : We have something to talk about.

I really like this dynamic! P.S. I really like your writing and my English is very bad, sorry😔

(It's okay, your English isn't very bad. I 100% love it, thank you. I have a perfect idea for you.)

After Sliver and Ace became boyfriends together, but one problem between them.

While a nice night for Ace who is sleeping with his sleepwear, he has a dream of a beautiful lady that is her age like his and are on a date together. His dream is so nice and romantic, he wishes anyone like his dream girl would confess her feelings to him.

But the next day Ace had an invitation card from the Ramshackle dorm for the guest room. He wonders if Yuu and Grim gave him a card but is glad to go to the guest room.

After changing his school uniform to his dorm uniform, have off to the Ramshackle dorm happily.

A long walk from the Hall of Mirrors to the Ramshackle dorm, he finally arrives at the Ramshackle dorm and opens the door, smiling, “Yuu! Grim! I’m here. Thanks for giving me an invitation card.”

“You’re welcome. Also you’re not the only one who gets an invitation card.” Making Ace surprised from Yuu, Grim adds, “It’s Silver, he’s in the guest room.”

“Silver? Is he supposed to protect his dorm leader?” He looks puzzled and tilts his head, both Yuu and Grim shrug and shake their heads at the same time. Ace blinks his eyes before giving them a smile, “Oh well, I’ll just hang with him, I won’t fight him I promise.”

He walks off to the guest room gladly, heading for the guest room and opening the door, smiling, “Hey Silver, I heard you’re in the guest room.”

Silver is sitting on the couch and smiling a little, “Hello Ace, have a seat.” He takes a seat on the couch and sits with him, a few chats later Silver finally makes a serious and calmly scowl, “Ace. We have something to talk about.”

Ace can see his face and can feel something’s bad, but calm himself down, “What do we have something to talk about?”

“Do you have…” Silver’s eyes darkened, “A dream?”

A silence zooms through the guest room, making Ace half-confused, “Yeah? I have a dream, why?”

The heart is racing from the Heartslabyul freshman, the sweat beads rolls on his face and the Diasomnia sopohomore nods, “Do you have a dream about dating a girl?”

Ace is pale and looks shocked, his heart skips a beat as Silver quickly grabs him in the wrist and pulls him, giving him a hug onto himself tightly, Ace starts struggling, “Let me go!”

“Ace.” Silver sternly stops him from struggling, “I am not here to punish you but to confront you for dreaming about a lady, which is hurting my feelings and nearly breaking my heart like that.”

Making Ace feel guilt fills in his heart, listening to him saying, “I just want to show you love, I want your love for me. I won’t leave you alone like that and I love you. Please Ace, please do not dream of a girl you want to date again, do you understand me?”

Ace feels so guilty, trembling and tries his best to hold his tears, decides to make a proper apology, “Silver, I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I’m sorry… I am so sorry… Forgive me.”

Silver hears him and shushes him, comforting him, “I accept your apology, Ace. I forgive you.”

As soon he and Ace soon slowly breaking a hug, Silver is the first to touch his cheek, leaning his head and giving him a kiss on the mouth while closiing his eyes and his Heart closes his eyes, the tears starts rolling down on his cheeks from his eyes.

Yikes, Silver can make him feel guilty if he finds out about his Heart’s dream, also he can make him to be with him all the time. Tsk, tsk, tsk. He doesn't tell him about his Unique Magic, kept hidden from him.

Their shipping name is Sleeping Heart.

#ace trappola #twisted wonderland #yandere silver #silver x ace #silver twisted wonderland #silvace #twst bl

22 notes · View notes

pinky27freak · 9 months ago

Text

~°¶_Idia x Yuu_¶°~

~°¶_Promise_¶°~

*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ

(Yuu has a sibling that came to twisted wonderland with them in this one)

*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ

Rumble, Crash!!

Are heroine,, Yuu, jumped nearly a foot as the storm worsened outside. Though the defening thunder and lightning didn’t seem to bother her boyfriend, who was busy trying to save Zelda. She sighed and scruntch up her face as she cuddled deeper into the blankets on Idia’s bed. She absolutely adored him to a t, but she really wanted attention and cuddles, especially since today was their one year anniversary of dating. Then again, she also liked watching him get all worked up about the game.

“Why do you have to be so cute when you're mad!” She thought, grabbing a blanket and rapping it around her like a hooded cloke. She then stood up and walked over to him and put her face into his shoulder. Idia stiffened a bit before relaxing into her touch. A soft smile grew on her face. “Is my gamer fustrated at the big boss?”

“Yes! Why can’t this old bisket die already!!” He furiously smashed his fingers in the controller as he jumped to dodged another attack. Yuu watched until he finally won the level, then she drug back his seat and sat on his lap. Idia's eyes widened. “Y-yuu?!”

“I want cuddles. I also want to watch you kick some butt. So this is the perfect combination!” She smiled and snuggled her head into his chest as he made a small shy noise.

“Why is she so freaking cute! My heart feels like it’s going to burst!” He internally screamed before relaxing back into his previous position and continuing the game.

Rumble, rumble, rumble. CRASH!!!

The lights flickered and then completely went out. The two sat in silence for a minute, each contemplating what had just happened.

“You did save your game right?”

“......... shit no!” Idia threw down his controller onto the desktop, signing in frustration.

“Awww! My poor little baby!!” Yuu Snuggle her boyfriend harder, hoping to somewhat comforter him in the fact that he was going to have to rematch with the boss that took him almost an hour to defeat. His arms wound their way across her back as he pulled her in a bit more and buried his face in her bobbed hair.

“You smell good.” He muttered, nuzzling his nose deep into her neck. Yuu squirmed. “Dose that tickle, sweetheart?” Yuu's eyes widened at his tone.

“Oh no.”

With that, her boyfriend started to mercsessly tickle her. Causing her to screech.

“I feel a disturbance in the force…….” Yuu's sibling muttered, perking up as they sat in Ramshackle, being single, unlike their younger sister.

“Oh shush.” Grim said, rolling his eyes. “Your just being paranoid.”

"Grim can just not talk sometime?" She growled, going back to reading as she thought about what her sibling and future brother in law were up to.

Back at the currently non electric Ignihyde, Yuu had somehow managed to escape her boyfriend’s grasp and was hiding. Idia was currently trying to find her.

“Yuu! Come on, it was just getting fun!” He said before tripping over some clothes on the floor. Yuu stiffeled a laugh as she squeezed further under the bed. Haha! No way he was going to find her!

“Ah! Here’s my flashlight.”

“……. Oh crap.”

The beam sweeped across the floor, before turning to the closet. She used this chance to wiggle further back under the bed. Though her attaition was caught by a rumging sound coming from the closet and a small.

“There it is!” by her boy. She was curious of what “There it is!” ment, and what “There it is!” was. The light then turned towards the bed and she stiffened seeing his socked feet walking towards her. They turned towards the nightstand and she could hear a small box being sat down on it. The light then clicked off and the only light left was from the soft glow of his hair. He then bent down and crouched on to the floor and poked his head under the bed.

“hi.” A small smile formed on his face causing Yuu’s heart to melted at the sight.

“hi.” Was her shy reply. He then reached out his hand as a offering, she took hold of it, and he slowly pulled her out into the open.

“How about we have a proper cuddle time.” He said bring her in for a hug.

“That would be worth more than gold to me.” Yuu snuggled into his neck as he picked her up and flopped onto the bed. They emidetly entangled their limbs together and buried their heads in each other’s necks. Within a few minutes, I had fallen asleep. Two hours later, Ortho made his way into the room and found them all curled up and sleeping peacefully. His regular smile grew almost to twise it’s size seeing his big brother and his lover all cozy and warm in each other’s embrace.

He quickly grabbed Idia’s phone and punched in the code to unlock it and then took several pictures of the sleeping pair, then sent them to both himself and Yuu's siblings.

Idia: (sent with attachment)

Hey Sis-chan! It’s Ortho! I’m sending this evidence so there are extra files! (Read)

Sis:

>:) I fore see a wedding ring in the future!! LOL!!

Thank you, Ortho!! You're such a sweetheart!

(Read) I’ll be sure to print them out!l

Ortho stopped as something pinged in his head. He scanned the room before his eyes finally rested on a small box on the night stand. He silently walked over to it and opened the lid and smiled. He then turned around to his brother and gently shook him awake.

“Big brother!” He excitedly whispered as Idia opened his eyes. “I think now would be the perfect time!” He said, handing him the box. Idia’s eyes snapped open as he eyed the box that was now in his hand. Ortho gave a double thumbs up and whispered. “You can do it!!” He then exits the room, leaving a sleeping Yuu and a very flustered Idia behind him.

Idia swallowed as he looked at the box and then at his girlfriend. She looked so peaceful and beautiful it was almost like someone had put a spell on her.

“I’ll wait until she wakes up…..” He turned to put the box back onto the nightstand.

“I’m already awake, silly.” A small groggy voice sounded off. Idia snapped his head round to see two sleepy hazel eyes softly studying him as a smile tugged at the full soft lips of hers. “What does “I’ll wait until she wakes up” mean baby?” She said, rapping her arms around his waist and snuggling her head into his tummy. Idia stuttered, not knowing how to answer her exactly.

“I-I, uh, I-THISISFORYOU!” He blurted and shoved the box into her hands before quickly hiding his face into a pilow, making small noises of embarrassment while doing so. Yuu raised an eyebrow, not really knowing what he was doing, though it was just so adorable that she didn’t really care. Humming, she retangled their legs and pulled him closer. A small squeek sounded from Idia as she did so, causing her to lose it for a minute.

After her myboyfriendistocute attack she opened the box and peered inside. Idia watch her from a breathing hole he’d created. Her eyes widened as she took out the two silver rings inside and stared at them. One was more slender and had a dark blue stone in it, while the other was more wide and had a ice blue stone in it. She carefully turned each of them over in her hand, studding every part of them.

“Look on the inside of the band.” Idia’s shy muffled voice spoke, though the boy himself was still hidden. Yuu reached over, turning on the lamp stand, then remembering the power was out, snuggled closer to her boy, and used the soft glow from his hair to read the inscription on the ring.

Your Wonderlust lead to my Forelsket and our redamancy.

Yuu felt her heart ach at each word. But not a ach of pain, more of love and eumoirous. She loved this man. Nothing was ever going to change that or sway her love for him. Nothing was ever going to come between them. She’d had already made up her mind. She slid the slender ring onto her ring finger and then grabbed Idia’s and did the same with the wider one. She knew exactly what the rings meant for them both. Idia breathed a sigh of relief when he felt her slide the ring onto his finger. He then grabbed her and held her flush to himself, and closed his eyes.

“I love you, Idia, from storge to eros.” Yuu said, looking up at her boy. Idia opened his eyes and gazed down at her as she gazed up at him, his glowing yellow eyes as soft as the boy himself.

“I’ll never know how I got you, but I’m happy I did.” He said intertwining their hands together, feeling her ring on her hand, as she felt his. He tucked his head into her and they both closed their eyes.

Why did they close their eyes you ask? Well why do we close are eyes when we pray, when we cry, when we kiss, when we dream; because the most beautiful things in our lives are not seen but felt only by the heart.

*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ

(fancy and unusual words definitions)

Wonderlust (?.) A deep desire to explore

Forelsket (n.) the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love.

Redamancy (n.) the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

Eumoirous (?.) Happiness due to being honest and wholesome

Storge (?.) One of the six types of love, an affectionate love that slowly develops from friendship, based on similarity.

Eros (?.) One of the six types of love, a passionate physical and emotional love based on aesthetic enjoyment, is a stereotype of romance.

#twst wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland idia #twst idia #idia shroud #idia x reader #idia x yuu #idia x mc #romance #fanfic

31 notes · View notes

edosianorchids901 · 8 months ago

Text

Now That You've Come Back

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "empty house"

Cw: aftermath of violence and strangulation

After the police dragged Colonel Moran away, Watson finally allowed himself to lean against one of the walls of the empty house. Pain throbbed through his shoulder and leg, and he couldn’t quite catch his breath. The adrenaline was dying down too, and with that came the shakes.

The shakes, and the horrified awareness that had he been too hurt to get back into the fight, he might have watched Holmes be murdered. Might have lost him again, so soon after getting him back.

Holmes was pacing up and down the room sharply, a grim expression on his face as he watched Moran through the windows. Every inch of his bearing showed tension and anger. But was there pain? A hitch in his step, a rasping edge to his breath?

“Ah, there he goes.” Holmes paused by the window, shoulders still tight. “He is putting up a little fight, Watson. But at least he is well in hand.”

“Holmes,” Watson managed, tears rising.

At once, Holmes pivoted, and the hot anger on his face melted away to something else. His eyes widened, and his lips parted.

“Watson?” He dashed across the empty room and grasped Watson by the shoulders. “Were you hurt in the fight? Of course you are, you were thrown across the room. I really am very sorry.”

“No, I’m—”

“I am a fool not to have realized. Oh, my dear Watson, forgive me.” Breaths rasping and lip trembling, Holmes looked him over. “How could I be so stupid as to neglect you after… after…”

Holmes began to cough, and staggered. His hand went to his throat, and pain twisted his expression.

“Holmes, Holmes!” Quickly, Watson caught his friend’s arms and steadied him. “Do you want to sit?”

“There is… nowhere to sit,” Holmes rasped. He struggled for a deeper breath, then coughed again. “I should like to return to Baker Street. But… if you are hurt…”

“Sore, but not hurt. Sore, and frightened.” Battling against the tears, Watson turned them both so that Holmes might lean against the wall now. “Catch your breath.”

Holmes shook his head sharply and tried to speak. He promptly began to cough again.

“For God’s sake, Holmes. You mustn’t talk, not yet. I’m all right, old man. Don’t worry about me.” Keeping one hand on Holmes’ shoulder to steady him, Watson caught Holmes’ wrist. He found a racing pulse, racing but strong. “It’s all right. Just try to catch your breath.”

That would be easier said than done after a strangulation. Moran had a crushingly strong grip, and had managed to cut off Holmes’ air completely. In the dim light of the empty house, it was impossible for Watson to conduct a proper examination.

But although a wheezing edge remained to his breaths, Holmes soon managed a smile. “I’m all right,” he murmured. “And you, Watson?”

“I am as well.” But a tear escaped, and Watson shook his head as he touched Holmes’ cheek. “My God, Holmes. I nearly lost you again. I’m sorry, I ought to have been faster…”

With a soft shushing noise, Holmes touched a finger to his own lips and shook his head. “My dear Watson. You saved me. I am very much in your debt. And now, if it is not objectionable, I should like to embrace you.”

The statement caught Watson so entirely off guard that for a moment, he could only stare. “How could that possibly be objectionable?”

A quick, mischievous smile flitted across Holmes’ face. “Well. Earlier, when I meant to embrace you, you fainted. I feared perhaps, it was the thought of a hug…”

“Holmes, you are outrageous.” Watson lost control over something that was a laugh or a sob or both. “I can think nothing I should like better than to be in your arms, and to know that you are alive.”

He did begin to cry then, something that was most definitely a sob bursting from him as the tears escaped. His legs buckled, and anguish wrenched at his chest. After three years, Holmes had returned alive. The thought that he might so easily have been murdered now…

“Hush, my dear Watson. It is all right.” At once, Holmes folded him into a close embrace. One hand came up, cradling Watson’s head to Holmes’ shoulder. “It’s all right. I am alive, and I swear I shall not leave you again.”

The shakes returned in earnest now, and Watson pressed close against Holmes. He tried not too cling too tightly, especially as Holmes had so recently been seized around the middle and slammed into the ground. And even on an ordinary day, Holmes disliked being touched.

He betrayed none of that discomfort now, one hand rubbing Watson’s back and the other gently ruffling his hair. Watson sank into the embrace, distress easing as he held onto Holmes, so solid and real and alive. But the image of Holmes on the ground with Moran choking him lingered, still so clear.

They had made it through that fight, though. They were both battered, and there was still a wheezing edge to Holmes’ breaths. Watson would need to keep an eye on him, to ensure that there had not been serious damage.

When Watson finally felt himself again, he drew back and wiped his eyes. To his shock, there were tears on Holmes’ cheeks too, some still falling. “My dear Holmes, you’re crying!”

“As are you.” Holmes flashed a quick smile, though. “Ah, Watson. Words cannot express the joy I feel at being back with you again.”

Watson nodded, choked up. “Nor mine at having you here.”

“Come, Watson.” Still teary, Holmes offered his arm. “Let us return to Baker Street.”

Relieved, Watson took his arm, and together they made their way out of the empty house together. They were battered, yes, and shaken. But they were together again, and finally on their way home.

#sherlock holmes #john watson #granada holmes #empty house

27 notes · View notes

michelletsw · 2 years ago

Text

Cute thoughts

Romantic/crush writings not in a relationship

Gn reader (I don't have favoritism shush/j)

What if,

Grim got upset one night since you bought the wrong brand of tuna so he locked you out unable to get back inside, the ghosts finding it funny so the goof around helping grim leaving you locked outside for the night.

Ace

You sneak inside and get in his room quietly you see he has extra blankets on his bed and his blankets on the floor with a futon he's siting on his floor playing on his phone already in his pjs "why's your stuff on the ground?" Asking genuinely confused "just shut up and take the bed" he plugs in his phone and sets up where he'll be sleeping. "Your sleeping in your uniform?" He asks confused "I wasn't planing on it but I couldn't change before grim started throwing a fit" ace stands up and walk to his dresser he throws a shirt and sweat pants at you then lays down on the futon "bathrooms right there" you change and come back seeing the lights turned off and him falling asleep you lay down on the bed "thank you" you hear a sigh from him "don't mention it.." you fall asleep and his bed is way more comfortable then the one in ramshackle, that was the best you slept in awhile.

Deuce

Quietly and carefully you sneak inside and make your way to deuces room slipping in "what sleeping arrangements did you want to do?" You can see a soft pink on his cheek as he talks but trys to play it cool. Sitting on the ground he rolls out a futon "oh, ill take the futon it's your room after all" he looks at you confused "you sure I don't mind plus you had to deal with all this in the first place." He stands up already in his pjs and grabs the extra blankets for the closet "it's your room after all and you answered my distress call" laughing slightly from the situation. He places the extra blankets on the futon "I guess you wouldn't have pjs huh.." still in your uniform you sigh "no not really" fixing up the sheets as you talk, deuce goes to his dresser and opens the drawer and grabs one of his shirts and sweatpants "you can barrow these if you'd like" he seems a little embarrassed from the idea but still offers, you take them and go change in the bathroom once your done he's laying down on the futon asleep with his blankets and the extras on his bed for you, you lay down and get comfortable "thank you" he doesn't answer but it's still a sweet gesture.

Epel

One of the seven must be looking out for you since you got in through the window and into his room safe and didn't get caught. you see a futon on the ground next to his bed thats neatly made "you don't have pjs?" He sighs "I don't know if my clothes will fit you.." he's quieter with the second sentence, you sigh and start to ramble about grim but eventually get back to what your wearing "these are fine" you take off the jacket outerwear and are left with the simple white button up and your bottoms, "thank you for doing this really sleeping outsidewith nothing dosent seem that "fun"" you say trying to lighten the night some, while taking off your shoes "it's whatever just be quite so we don't get caught im surprisedwe didnt already but, the bathrooms over there" he lays down and trys to sleep, so you do the same the futon is still surprisingly more comfortable then the bed at ramshackle.. which seems a little unfair but atleast you have this now.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x y/n #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #ace x y/n #ace trapolla #ace x reader #deuce x y/n #deuce spade #deuce x reader #epel x y/n #epel felmier #epel x reader #twisted wonderland gn #twisted wonderland x gn reader #romantic #twisted wonderland fluff #fluff

153 notes · View notes

toytoriyadorm · 5 months ago

Text

CHAPTER 23: Locked in the Toy Box

“I can’t believe it, stuck in a cage in a cage.” Grim grumbled after yowling for help for the umpteenth time.

Yuukei groaned in response as he took another bite of a stale breakfast bar. Thankfully, his bag always had emergency food after Scarabia’s fiasco, allowing the two to remain healthy in this makeshift prison. “It’d probably be less annoying if you took a break from screaming for help, Grim.”

“But we gotta break out of here before the loop starts over, don’t we? I don’t wanna end up having no memories of everything going on!” ‘

“And we will soon, we’re just waiting on Winston. Time’s really weird in the loop anyways, so maybe he’s just taking really long with printing all those photos.”

“Oh yeah? And what if Winston got captured by Lotsie and we’re just stuck here?”

Yuukei went silent, before putting the half-eaten snack back into his bag and joining Grim on yelling for help. As if on cue, the door had suddenly begun to rattle before being thrown open. In the blinding light, the two saw a familiar face.

“Rocket guy!” Grim exclaimed at the sight of Saturn. He put his finger to the beast’s mouth in a shushing motion.

“What are you doing here?” Yuukei whispered, grateful for the purple-eyed student’s appearance.

“I had a weird feeling from the get-go.” Saturn replied. “Sorry I took so long, I didn’t realize he never actually talked to the Headmaster until I went to Ramshackle myself and found it empty.”

“Why’d you go to Ramshackle?”

“Our ‘wonderful’ dorm leader created some lie about you guys opting out of the festival. That didn’t seem like you guys with how excited you two were, much less any first year.”

Saturn offered his hand to the duo. “Now let's get out of here, I don’t know how long we got until he notices I’ve snuck away.”

CHAPTER 24: The Meltdown of a Lifetime

Back at the Festival, the 3rd day had come and gone once more. But this time, a new problem had arisen for the final act of the show.

“What do you mean you still can’t find Winston?” Lotsie asked a tense team of backstage students. Zackery stood next to Lotsie, having tried to help in the search.

“I told you! We looked everywhere from Toytoriya to Ramshackle, he’s nowhere!” The student bit his thumb. “Maybe we should tell Headmaster–”

“No! No one is telling anyone! He’s somewhere in the school, I know it.”

“King Huggins, allow this villain to propose canceling the performance. The hero will be enraged later, but it means more time can be put into looking for him!”

“A-and waste all your work?” Lotsie put on a sad smile. “That just won’t do. He– Both of you are needed for tonight, you’re the ending act after all!”

Lotsie turned back to the backstage crew, unnerved by their dorm leader. “I want as many people on the lookout for Winston, pull out people in the middle of setting up stuff, even. Just make sure he’s found within the next hour or so.”

“But we haven’t gotten our chance to perform yet!“ A short student argued.

“So? You should have just scheduled for an earlier time.”

“King Huggins, I really don’t mind needing to not perfo—“

“No, Zackery! You’re not canceling Winston’s act!” He yelled. “Can’t you just listen to me this one time?! Or are you going to go do some nonsensical weirdo crap that messes up everyone’s day like usual?!”

Everyone went silent at the outburst, the grip Lotsie had on his cane only tightened. He opened his mouth to yell more, but stopped as his eyes drifted to the crowd behind the stage. The sight of an animal’s ears blazing with blue fire made his heart stop. He pushed past a silent Zackery and confronted the group.

“Saturn, what are you doing?”

“Stopping whatever fiasco you’ve decided to make.” Saturn spoke with his usual confidence, “No wonder you’ve kept them locked up in that creepy basement, Yuukei’s way more convincing than he lets on.”

Lotsie sputtered. “You’re seriously trusting those two delinquents’ words over your own dorm leader?”

“From lying about what happened with Yuukei to saying they left the festival only for me to find them in the dorm’s basement… Even if I was suspicious of their claims, it's not like you’re any hero either. The Lotsie I know would care about all his classmates.”

Saturn paused, a scowl appearing on his face. “...unless the one I’ve been with has been nothing but a lie.”

The dorm leader gritted his teeth in anger when the stage light had suddenly turned on, directing everyone’s attention to the stage.

“Winston..?” Zackery whispered as the cowboy shined in the white glow of the stagelight.

#twisted wonderland fandorm #toytoriya's mayor of playtime #twst fanfic #twst oc

12 notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 6 months ago

Note

Can I have a sugar cookie, #5, with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle please? 🥺

I really like this format! It's like getting a secret Santa gift 💕

smirks eveilly. what a specific combination of tropes with this character... I wonder if I can force a certain au here

order #5, sugar with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a whole new world

tropes: exes to lovers, royalty AU characters: kalim additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, aladdin!yuu, jasmine!kalim, grim is the monkey, a little ooc, this is an au after all, obviously inspired by aladdin and the songs from it which are not mine, etc, word count: 1.5k

Poor, poor you

No, really.

Literally, poor you. As in, broke you. As in, Prince Kalim al-Asim royally dumped your ass, and now you're back to stealing bread off the streets.

And things were going so well...

You really liked him, after all- and that was before you knew he was the son of the richest man in the world.

He's just... something else. He's fun, and pretty- no beautiful. He's got these eyes, and that hair, and then his smile... but when you met, you had no idea who he was.

Now that you know he's a prince... yeah, not a chance.

You can't just make him fall in love with you. You can't even talk to him.

That is... unless you were also royalty.

And now, here you are.

"Who are you, again?" Kalim's advisor- what was his name?- asks you, eyes narrowed, arms crossed.

You adjust your clothing for the millionth time- expensive silk is an unfamiliar feeling on your skin- and you come up with some nonsensical name and title on the spot.

A noble from a foreign land, come to win the heart of the prince.

And, with that magic lamp of yours, it's almost believable, right?

"Right," he says, drumming his fingers across his forearm. It's obvious that he doesn't quite believe you, but he's in no place to say so.

Not when Papa al-Asim is so excited to have a new guest.

He's got an arm around your shoulder, talking to you like you're an old friend, showing you all of his jewels and gold trinkets.

"And Kalim has been ever so glum, lately, I can't imagine why! Teenagers," the man sighs.

You nod along, though you're not exactly sure what you're agreeing with.

"Pardon my curiosity, but where is this country you're from? I can't seem to recall it on any map," the advisor asks.

Papa al-Asim waves him off. "You're too worried, Jamil. Go oversee the kitchen staff, would you? We need to host a proper welcome banquet for our esteemed guest!"

Jamil sneers and mutters "esteemed, indeed" but leaves without being told twice.

There's something strangely familiar about him, but you put that thought aside for now... still, you feel the urge to double-check that your magic lamp is still safely tucked away.

"S-so... where is this prince of yours?"

"Oh, you'll meet him in good time. He's in one of his moods," Papa al-Asim shakes his head. "He's been rather sad lately. It's so unlike him..."

That is unlike him. You suppose you'll get to that, later.

...But you don't. Kalim isn't at dinner. He's not at dessert, either. He's not at the music performance that was arranged for you, and he's not in any of the rooms you tour with Papa al-Asim.

It's nerve-wracking.

Long after dark, you decide to take your chances.

"Prince Kalim?" you call out from the balcony attached to his room.

No answer. You don't dare venture any further, and you turn to your magic carpet (it came with the lamp) to shush it.

"Prince Kalim? It's... it's me, your... suitor...?" that word tastes sour on your tongue.

After a longer moment of silence, the silk curtains part, and Kalim pokes his head out. He seems to glow in the moonlight, and you can't take your eyes off him.

You also can't quite tell what he's thinking. His eyes narrow, then widen, then narrow again, and he comes outside.

"Do I... know you?"

"Kn-know me?" you stammer, leaning against the banister, trying to put some distance between you so he can't get a good look at your face. "I-I don't think so."

"You just..." he takes a step closer. "...Remind me of someone I met at the market."

Has he always been this perceptive?? "The market? Uh, no... I... have servants who go to the market for me, I even have servants that go to the market for my servants! Y-you must be thinking of someone else,"

Kalim sighs, his face falling. "...I must be. Sorry. I get confused sometimes,"

Enough about you. Say something about him! Anything! You clear your throat.

"Prince Kalim, you're very..." fun, interesting, sweet, thoughtful, punctual- "Punctual!"

"Punctual?"

"I-I mean beautiful!"

He raises an eyebrow at your save, but doesn't question it. You're all over the place.

"Well... I'm rich, too, you know," he says, leaning against the wall. "The son of the wealthiest man in the world."

"Uh... you are,"

"A fine prize for any suitor,"

Something about this is setting off alarm bells in your head. "Yes, you... very rich,"

Kalim almost pouts for a second. "That's what I'm told. You must see me as nothing but someone to get things out of, just like the other suitors. I-I have to go,"

Those alarm bells get louder as you watch him turn and disappear behind the silk again.

Way to go. "You're right!" you blurt out.

"What?" he reappears, an eyebrow raised. Great. Now what?

"I-I said you're right," you say. "You're not some prize to be won, or a wallet to use. You should... be able to marry someone who likes you for who you are. I'll go now,"

You make a swift exit before you can embarrass yourself further, stepping backwards off the balcony and onto the floating carpet below.

"Wait!" Kalim gasps, and you pop back up.

"What? What's wrong?"

He blinks his big eyes at you, a look of wonder coming over him as you float upwards on the carpet. "How... are you doing that?"

"...It's a magic carpet,"

Kalim steps closer, admiring the intricate weaving and the golden tassels. "It's beautiful. My father has one, but I'm not allowed to use it. They're all afraid I'll get hurt..."

You frown. "No one seems to trust you with anything important, huh?"

He doesn't answer, but he's smiling as he walks around the carpet in circles. The space between you is silent, but warm now.

You return his smile. "You wouldn't wanna... take it for a ride, would you?"

Kalim's eyes light up, but then he shakes his head. He swallows, with some difficulty, whatever he was about to say.

"I... shouldn't. I'd worry Jamil,"

You reach out a hand. "No one has to know. Do you trust me?"

Something in Kalim's eyes change. That familiar glow of excitement almost has something... a little untamed in it. His hand is suddenly in yours, and in a breath more you're high above the palace.

Soon the golden lights of the city are all you can make of it, a sea of stars beneath you as Kalim clings to you. The wind carries his laughter with it.

You smile back at him. "Tell me, Prince, when's the last time you let go like this?"

"This is... unbelievable! Indescribable!" he shouts, the wind whipping around you both.

You chuckle. His hair is the same color as the clouds beneath your feet as you breach the endless diamond sky. He fits in well with the heavens, you think.

He clings closer to you, his arms around your waist as you dip back down, soaring, tumbling, weaving across the sky, taking him wonder by wonder on the carpet.

Kalim marvels at the moon, the inky water of the sea, gardens and statues, a hundred thousand things. He points out everything to you, the same smile on his face.

"How does it feel, no one to tell you no, or where to go?"

"Like I'm a shooting star!" he exclaims, reaching towards the heavens and pulling wisps of cloud from the sky. "I almost don't want to go back to where I used to be!"

Your carpet eventually comes to a gentle stop on the roof of a palace, far from his own.

"Hm..." Kalim hums, resting his head against your shoulder. His hair is messy, thrown around by the wind. "It's sad that Grim had to miss this."

You sigh, feeling content. "Nah. He doesn't really like flying," Maybe a little too content. "Uh- I-I mean-"

Kalim sits up suddenly, pointing at you. "You are the person from the market! I knew I wasn't making things up!"

"It's- uh, um- it's not-"

"Why did you lie to me?" he pouts. "Did you think that I wouldn't like you if I knew the truth?"

He seems genuinely upset. You cough, choking on your own words. "No! I just- I-I thought-"

"And Jamil told me you had been executed!" Kalim exclaims, running a hand through his messy hair.

You blink. "He what...? O-okay, um, we're gonna come back to that, but I- I just thought that you- um, you know. I was told you never wanted to see me again, and-"

"Who told you that?"

You bite your lip. "...The guards,"

Kalim crosses his arms. He narrows his eyes. He stares. You let him make an attempt to read you, staying perfectly still, as much as you want to squirm under his stare.

"Who are you? Really?"

Your teeth sink further into your lip. He's still staring, expectant of an answer.

Those alarm bells start ringing again. Tell him the truth, you think. Tell him the TRUTH!

"You want the truth...?" you start, unsure of where you're going with this. "The truth is..."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #kalim al asim x reader

94 notes · View notes

superstar-nan · 1 year ago

Text

Fight Tooth and Nail

Day 2

Summary: Michael takes you home and you have a long chat about what the heck is going on around here

Words: 5,077

Fun stuff: Descriptions of unusual self harm from a child, mention of child murder, graphic descriptions of undead bodies, canon typical violence, and mild swearing. Michael heavy chapter; he's still sassy and you're annoyed by it.

First ♡ Prev ♡ Next

───── (\ /) ─────

You barely even registered when you were done vomiting your guts out. Your head was lead, your fingers and toes were tingling strangely. The room was spinning again, and you felt out of yourself. Michael was saying something you didn’t catch, his voice startled and raspy, and looking at his face made you retch again.

The ringing in your ears waned and you could understand Michael, “Oh, gross! ” You wished you could go back to not understanding Michael.

You looked down. The trashcan was made of crossed wire, so your vomit leaked out and onto the floor. Despite how it really was gross, you still couldn’t smell it over the spoiled rot in the room. You clumsily kicked the trashcan away from you (coincidentally, toward Michael, who scooted away from it), and stumbled back against the wall.

It was strange, knowing that you were out of it but not knowing what to do about it. Everything was just a bit out of reach, even the decayed hand snapping in front of your face.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t sound worried, only slightly impatient with his typical drone.

You swatted his hand away, “I’m—”

“ Shh! ” That time, you really were talking loud, but you didn’t realize that he was quiet until he shushed you.

“I’m fine.” You looked at the panel. Did they all need to be rebooted? Or none of them?

“Really?” Why was his voice like low, buzzing wasps? Just another thing to add to the list of unsettling things about him. “Because you’re tapping the ‘ reboot all ’ option over and over again.”

Oh. You were doing that. “I’m making it easy for myself.”

Your chin was pulled up. When did Michael get in front of you? He tilted your head from side to side, and you didn’t fight his whims. At this closeness, you couldn’t avoid looking at him, and it gave you a visceral chill traveling from the base of your spine up your back. Though peculiarly, you didn’t want to avoid looking at him. His features held a grip of morbid curiosity over you, like watching something you were forbidden to see—or rather, that was forbidden to exist. The more you looked at him, the less unpleasant he looked. Not that he wasn’t still a little horrifying to look at, but his features held an... odd, haunted allure to it. You had the sudden impulse to hold his face in your hands, to brush your thumbs lightly along the death under his abyssal eyes, and to know the grim reaper that wouldn’t take him. Would he feel it? Can he still feel?

The corpse cursed under his breath, “Your pupils are different sizes. You probably have a concussion.”

Ah. Maybe that was why you were getting poetic and strange impulses. “I’m probably fine.” You retorted, grabbing his wrist. He let you go, but he didn’t look convinced.

“Can you tell me what year it is?” He asked.

“Uh,” Come on, you knew this. “2023? 2022? No wait, 2015.”

“Yeah, give me that,” He swiped the control panel from you long before you even knew it left your hands. Suddenly, a cold, wet gas-station soda cup replaced it. “Don’t fall asleep.”

You took a long sip and almost choked on it, “It tastes like how you smell.”

Michael stiffened. When did he get back to his desk?

You kept drinking anyway. Despite the taste, the cool liquid felt good on your bruised throat. Your head lolled to the side, facing the door. You should have been dead. Multiple times now. That thing —the monster would have killed you twice over if it wasn’t for someone else being there, someone who knew what was going on.

What the hell was going on? Was your best friend wrapped up in this crazy place too? Also, why was there a figure in the doorway?

For a moment that was both an eternity and nothing at all, you thought it was the animatronic and you could have screamed. It wasn’t, though. It was too skinny, but just as tall. You couldn’t focus right at first, but when you did, you noticed it wasn’t skinny or tall at all. It was a child. Small and shrouded in darkness; they couldn’t have been older than eight. Their wild brown locks obscured most of their face, and little fingers touched the edge of the door frame.

You smiled and waved at them.

They waved back, though you couldn’t if they smiled through the shadows. You wanted to ask them their name or if they were lost, but in a vague moment of clarity, you realized that a child shouldn’t be here. Your head started to pound, or was that your heart? The child lifted up a toy phone—the same one the animatronic fooled you with. You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t make a noise. Just like when you were being choked.

The child stabbed themselves in the chest with the phone.

Red—Flashing—Blaring—Red—Flashing—Blaring—

Was it blood? No, the child was gone. Michael was swearing, scrambling across the different cameras. You grabbed the panel and quickly restarted the ventilation. The corpse tried to swipe it back from you, but you pulled away just in time.

“I got it,” You said.

Michael opened his mouth to argue, but his eyes couldn’t tear from the cameras for long. Whatever argument he had for you was lost the moment he returned his focus, frantically swapping through screens. You restarted the audio, and couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the cameras. Not that you could make out the monster animatronic if you tried. You didn’t have the strength to consider why it was so good at hiding from the cameras. Or why it was so good at hunting you.

Your eyes burned when you blinked. You dragged your focus to the clock. 5:47. You couldn’t tell if the night was gone too quickly or not gone quickly enough. You bit your lower lip. Without any idea of what happened to your best friend, you decided the night was gone too quickly. It was unfair.

“What time is your shift over?” Even though your voice was a whisper, it still sounded torn to shreds. You rubbed your throat. It didn’t hurt now, but you knew it would soon. Damned rotted bunny.

Sallow eyes flicked to you and back to the cams just as quickly as you leaned on the back of his chair, “You’re cognizant now?”

You tilted your head from side-to-side, testing the pain in your head. Yep, it was still painful; throbbing, dull and heavy. Though it was difficult to tell how cognizant you were, since the whole night had been a nightmare straight out of a terrible horror movie. You decided to flick the back of Michael’s ear in response. It was spongy to the touch.

Michael half-heartedly swatted at your fingers, but couldn’t keep his hands away from the cameras for long, “Six.”

You swallowed, which was functionally more difficult than usual. You restarted the cameras. “What time does the other security guard get here?”

“Six.”

How inconvenient. You restarted ventilation. “The last security guard left fifteen minutes before you came.”

“If I did that, I would die.”

He was right, but he didn’t have to be so sardonic about it. Not when you were almost killed twice, not when your best friend was still missing, and not when your only clue was in the hands of a... Wait, the kid had the toy phone just a second ago, but you shattered it early. Were you dreaming? Hallucinating? Obviously, you were...

“There was a kid here...” You mentioned, anyway.

“You were dreaming,” Even though you came to the same conclusion, you didn’t like how dismissive the corpse was.

“I didn’t fall asleep,” You said while rebooting the audio.

“Then you were hallucinating,” He said, also preoccupied with swiping and selecting and switching and searching.

You wanted to hit him again. You bit your lip.

Michael’s eyes flicked to you for a fraction of a moment before returning to the cameras. You could only imagine how chaotic you must’ve looked: body shaking with fatigue, eyes red from crying and exhaustion, lips chapped from vomiting, and you didn’t even want to know if the bruise around your neck formed yet. However you looked, apparently it was pitiful enough to make the corpse sigh and say, “The ventilation in this place—something in the air, makes people see things.”

Very briefly, you wondered if the whole night was just some gas-induced nightmare. God, you wished it was.

You rebooted the ventilation. It didn’t need it, but you did it anyway.

As you watched the cams flick through one and the next and the next, you tried to muster the motivation to attempt one last search, to do one last sweep of the place for your best friend’s phone even if it was only with your eyes on the cams. But even if there wasn’t a seven-foot tall monster of a robot hunting you for sport, you didn’t have the life to keep searching. You put your hand in your pocket and felt something smooth and cool. Your best friend’s wrist watch. You wanted to cry, but you didn’t have the life for that either.

Pushing through the exhaustion and misery, you willed yourself to look for the rotted animatronic. You didn’t care how tired you were or how broken you felt, you had to find it. You had to. If only to pour every last emotion caving in your chest into hatred, to point it outward so it at least wasn’t in you. You didn’t follow Michael’s eyes, you wanted to find it on your own.

You found it, but not through perception or wit and that burned you. The rotted, foul thing was standing right where it had been when the night started. As if it was a being with the cognizance to deceive the day shift, and by now you would be a fool to believe it wasn’t.

You were startled by an alarm going off. You quickly checked the panel, but it wasn’t yours. Instead, the alarm was the sound of a grandfather clock, and Michael’s phone was lighting up. 6:00 AM. You could’ve thrown confetti.

A bright light blinded you briefly from outside the office. It was the day shift security guard.

“Hey, Mike. Just finishing... Hi?” He said, once his eyes laid on you.

“Hi,” You replied. Michael stood up, shuffling his things. You didn’t know when, but Michael had slipped on a black face mask, hiding his more grotesque features.

“Uh, who are you?” Oh yeah, you were doing something illegal.

You looped an arm around Michael’s, leaning your body into his cold lifeless one, and he stiffened, “Michael’s my boyfriend. I’m just here to pick him up.” As you leaned into him, you were hit with a waft of spoiled cake that you promptly ignored.

“You’re, uh—to him ?” The guard seemed to be trying not to offend either of you, but it was very obvious he was shocked Michael pulled you. Good to know that even in your disheveled state you were still a few leagues above a zombie.

“Yep. Ready to go—” Your voice caught in your throat when you looked at Michael. His hollowed eyes bore into you with an unknowable emotion. You were reminded of his haunting allure you noted earlier, but fleetingly it was just haunting enough to frighten you, a small flip upturning your stomach. He didn’t take his eyes off of you even as you swallowed and managed to croak out, “ Sweetie? ”

It was deadly silent. Why didn’t the animatronic murder you when it had the chance?

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Thank god. He played along.

You gave the dayshift guard a small wave and a smile, holding Michael’s hand as you left the god-forsaken horror attraction. His flesh was cold to the touch and depressed under the pressure of your fingertips. You ignored the more visceral flip in your stomach at the realization you were touching bone.

The moment the door closed behind you, Michael swiped his hand back, but you were filled with too much relief to be offended. The air was clean, healthy —something you didn’t know you desperately needed until your lungs were filled with vitality. You felt drunk on the morning rays of light and colors that weren’t dull greens and browns. You hadn’t realized you were in hell until earth felt like heaven.

You lowered your eyes after you were able to breathe. Michael was already walking, so you followed him and said, “Thanks.” You meant it for more than pretending to be your boyfriend

“No problem,” He said, and it was strange hearing his (brittish) voice in something other than a whisper. It was raspy and scarred low but still held weight. Like a smooth narrator who had his voice shredded in a cheese grater. “You’re actually going to give me a ride home, though. The bus takes forever.”

You wondered if it was the wait or the staring from other passengers that he wanted to avoid, “Okay, sure. But I also actually need a place to stay.”

He stopped and stared at you. For the first time, you could finally discern his expression clearly. Annoyed disbelief.

You gave him your best innocent smile, which might have ended up a grimace with how exhausted you were, “I thought I’d only stay one night so I didn’t book a hotel.”

He rolled his eyes (something that was fascinating to watch since his eyes were hollowed out voids), turned around and resumed walking. That wasn’t a no. You jogged to match pace with him and when you reached him, he held out his hand. You stared at it, before Michael snapped you out of your stupor, “The keys.”

“You want to drive?”

“You’re sleep deprived, had a concussion, and look like you might fall over.” His hollow eyes scrolled you up and down briefly as he walked.

In a more stable and coherent state, you might have been offended and argued with him. Though, if you had the strength to argue, you had the strength to drive. You put the keys in his hand.

The drive to Michael’s place passed in a blur. Scenery melted across your window as you dully pressed your arm against it, your face resting in the crook of your elbow. Your muscles felt atrophied into the passenger’s seat, your mind was numbed to a dull buzz, you stared out the window and saw nothing, and after all of the impossible things and complicated mysteries that needed explaining, you could only think collapsing into bed. Your eyes were lidded and your breathing was slow. The car’s drone was just ambient enough to calm your fused mind. The relief was enough to make you sigh.

It was only when the car came to a stop that you realized you were half asleep. Michael wordlessly got out of the car, closing the door with enough sound to wake you up completely, and you followed him mindlessly.

You hardly had the energy to take in your surroundings, but even exhaustion wasn’t enough to keep you from wondering how a corpse lived. The answer? Incredibly boring. His flat was small, just enough room for one person, and minimally decorated. No pictures, no aesthetics or ornaments, no personal touch—you might as well have been in a stock photo if it wasn’t slightly messy.

Michael dropped his backpack on the bills scattered across his small dining room table. He took off his mask and hat, his dark brown hair ruffled slightly, and tossed them on the table as well. As he opened the fridge he pointed nonchalantly to the bedroom door.

“Shower’s on the right.”

You guessed that meant you needed a shower.

Michael’s bedroom had slightly more personality to it, emphasis on slightly. A few pieces of clothing were strewn about the floor, the bed was rushedly made, and empty soda cans piled in the trash bin. Though the bed called for you, you forced yourself to the bathroom anyway.

Your reflection was haunted, just as you imagined, but you didn’t look as bad as you thought you would. Eyes bloodshot and dark circles for days, but the worse feature was the ugly yellowing bruise beginning to form around your throat. It would turn blue and purple before too long, and you swore you could make our large, thick fingers in its shape. You swallowed and turned to the shower. You didn’t want to think about that.

Steam filled the bathroom after a minute of letting the hot water run. Michael didn’t have any shampoo or conditioner. After snooping through his bathroom quickly (in case he kept them somewhere weird—and because it’s fun to snoop) you found a few dark brown wigs instead. That made sense; his hair was his most living feature. He did, however, have an endless assortment of different soaps. None of which able to mask his smell, unfortunately.

You wondered if you would end up smelling like him? You picked the soap in your favorite scent and lathered your body in it.

Stepping out of the shower, the motion of peeling back on the clothes you sweated, cried, and vomited over was too much to even think about. Instead, you picked up a hoodie off the floor, one that seemed slightly too big for Michael, and slipped it on. Whatever damage you mended using the soap was undone the moment you put on the hoodie, but you were too tired to care.

You could hear the TV playing from beyond Michael’s room. You couldn’t wait for him to finish whatever he was watching and you didn’t have the energy to discuss where you’d be sleeping, so you collapsed on his bed.

You were out the moment your head hit the pillow.

───── (\ /) ─────

You woke up disoriented, aching, and somehow still drained. Weren’t naps supposed to make you less tired? Your disorientation only grew when you didn’t recognize where you were, your vision teetering back into focus.

The fog of sleep cleared when your hand touched something spongy and cold. It was Michael’s hand. Your memory of last night (morning?) came back to you. You rolled your head over to the nightstand and instantly hissed in pain. Your neck hurt like hell and just turning made it enough to throb with pain. When the pain subsided, you slowly opened your eyes. 6:42 PM. You slept twelve hours. Your head felt like you slept three.

You rolled your head, this time slowly and carefully, back over to Michael. He was sleeping in the bed with you, lying on his back with an arm nestled behind his pillow. For some reason, he was wearing his wig to bed. That couldn’t be comfortable.

You didn’t know when he came to bed with you or if he got a full night’s (day’s?) rest, but you couldn’t wait around for him to wake up. You poked his shoulder. “Michael.”

He grumbled, sleepily. He turned his head away from you, revealing parts of his jawbone visible through abraded skin.

You poked his shoulder again, “Michael.” You insisted.

He swatted at you.

You smacked his shoulder, “Michael, wake up !”

He cursed, grabbing his shoulder, “ What? What—?!” Michael’s voice caught in his throat when he turned to you, his void eyes going wide. You had to be only inches apart as you stared at him, unphased by your closeness. He awkwardly shuffled away from you, scooching inch by inch to put some distance between you too. You blanked. He was the one who decided to sleep in the same bed as you, what did he have to be bashful for? “What is it.”

“What is it?” You sat up, fistfulls of blanket in your hand as you ignored your pounding head. You tried to keep your tone controlled, but you nearly bit your own tongue in your frustration. “ What is it? A seven-foot massive bunny robot tried to kill me twice and—!”

“Rabbit,” Michael interrupted you. “Bonnie is a rabbit, not a bunny.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“Can’t this wait until after breakfast?”

You swiped the pillow out from under his head and tried to smother him with it. After just a second of struggling with it, he easily pried it out of your hands.

“Alright, alright,” He sat up with a groan, rubbing the back of his neck. “But coffee first. No discussion.”

Your jaw tensed, but you forced yourself to relax with a worried sigh. You stood up, “Okay. How do you take your coffee?”

The corpse collapsed back into bed, swinging the pillow behind his head with closed eyes, “Four sugars, two cream.”

You managed to navigate through Michael’s kitchen—which only had the bare necessities: minimal cutlery, meager pantry, an air fryer but no toaster—well enough to make two cups of coffee, one prepared exactly how you like yours. You organized your thoughts, figuring which questions you should ask first and how. You were having trouble sorting out the mad hell that happened last night, let alone figuring out what happened to your best friend. First you needed to know what was going on, then you could take steps on finding them.

You sat on the bed and handed Michael his mug. He mumbled a thanks and took a few gulps, despite how scalding it was. You once again couldn’t tear your eyes off of the window in his cheeks revealing liquid rushing down his throat.

“Alright,” He said with an exhale, setting his three-quarters empty mug on the bedside table. “Who are you and why did you break into the pizzeria?”

You almost started yelling at him again, but you stopped yourself. He saved your life twice, the least you could do was go first. You lowered your eyes as Michael watched you intently, his expression betraying nothing. You pulled out your phone and played the last message your best friend sent. Michael listened without saying a word.

“Someone I care about worked the night shift before you,” You locked your phone and kept it face down in your lap. You didn’t look Michael in the eyes out of fear you might start crying. “I need to know what happened to them.”

“They’re probably dead.”

Your eyes were storms as you stared daggers at him, tears forming thick droplets, “ You don’t know that. ” The venom in your voice was tempered by its tremble.

Michael was silent as you swabbed at your tears with his hoodie you were wearing. When he spoke next, he was slower, as if treading carefully, “ If you find any answers, you won’t like them. And that’s if you don’t share their fate. Go home. ”

“ I won’t, ” You said through teeth tight enough to grind. “I won’t. Not until I find them, or-or I find what happened to them and-and—”

“And then what?” Michael challenged, “What are you going to do once you find out?”

You waved your hands in the air, frustratedly, “I’ll figure out what I want to do when we get there!”

Michael sighed, long and tired. He grabbed his mug, swirled it around for a bit, and then downed the rest of his drink. He exhaled when he was done, “I’m not going to help you get yourself killed.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” You said, stubbornly.

“Yes, you did,” He put his mug down on the bedside. “You asked me to keep him on camera eight.”

There was that ‘ him ’ again. “Okay, but I don’t need your help.”

He raised a brow, unimpressed, “Yes, you do.”

Now was the time to change the subject, “Why do you keep calling it ‘ him ’?” As if startled by your own question, you realized you hadn’t asked the ones you planned. “In fact, why is it alive? Why are you alive? And why is it trying to kill me? What happened last night?”

Michael set his jaw while you gained your breath, just realizing how worked up those questions made you. “What do you think happened last night?” He asked.

You opened your mouth while your eyes scanned the floor, as if the dingy carpet held the answer. Your brow knotted in confusion, “You call it ‘ him ’ because it’s Bonnie. Its programming makes it seem alive. You’re just really sick. It has faulty wiring. Last night was a horrible horrible accident. That’s what I was telling myself.” But even saying it now, you didn’t believe a word of it.

“Good,” He said. “You’re right.”

You trained your eyes on him, “No, I’m not.”

“For your sake, you are.”

“No.” You insisted, more determined. “I’m not.”

He exhaled sharply, “You’re too stubborn.”

“I was honest with you,” You pleaded, softening your expression in an effort to appeal to his conscience.

He set his jaw again (you could even see the grind of his teeth through his worn skin), and though his expressions were nearly impossible to read, you were starting to recognize his tells. “Don’t come back to the attraction.”

“I can’t—”

“ They’re gone. ” He said, and he didn’t know how cruel he was being. You couldn’t even tell if he felt guilty when new tears fell down your cheeks. “Be satisfied that you didn’t share their fate.”

You wiped your tears, shaking with anger and grief. You hated Michael for saying that, for pointing out something you feared more than anything. “There was no body,” You said, weakly. Even you knew it wasn’t a great defense.

“It was probably stuffed in a costume,” He said, heartlessly. “Or in an animatronic torso. He’s anything if not consistent...” The last part he said more to himself, but you didn’t miss it.

You found your voice, “What does that mean?”

When his eyes met yours, he sighed, “Don’t come back to Fazbear’s Fright, okay?”

You bit your lip and stared holes into the floor. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and clearing your mind. Then, you nodded, tentatively.

“What do you know about the kids that went missing at the pizzeria? The one Fazbear’s Fright is based on?”

You looked back up at him before furrowing your brow in concentration, “I know a little. A bunch of kids went missing in the 80s. A lot of people thought they were murdered, but their bodies were never found. I know someone was charged, but they never found any evidence.”

“That’s because they couldn’t find the bodies.”

You swallowed.

“They were stuffed into the animatronics.”

You couldn’t help but stare, horrified. Michael was patient with you as you fumbled through your next question, “How do you know that?”

“Because my dad did it.”

You almost reeled back in shock, “Oh my god.” You said, incredulously. Maybe a serial killer dad shouldn’t have shocked you. Afterall, you were sitting and chatting with a zombie. You still couldn’t help the surprise coming from a national cold case solved. “Wow. Uh. God.”

“Yeah,” Michael was as nonchalant as ever.

“Okay,” You said, slowly nodding. “So this old Bonnie animatronic is... is one of these kids? Or their ghost or...?”

“No,” He said. “It’s my dad.”

This time, you did reel back. “ What? ”

“Yeah.”

“... What? ”

“Yeah.”

“No, I need you to explain,” You said.

“I’m not sure,” He scratched the back of his head. “That suit, the Spring Bonnie suit, he used to lure kids. It’s a springlock suit—” He shifted when he saw your confusion, “Part animatronic, part costume, held together by sensitive spring locks that snap shut. It looks like they went off while he was still inside. Can’t say he didn’t have it coming. Too bad he didn’t stay dead.”

“Oh my god,” You wrung your face with your hands. “That’s-That’s unbelievable. I can’t-... I’m in a horror movie.” You turned to him, “ He’s still in it? ”

“Yep.”

You shook your head slowly, “How is he still alive?”

Michael shrugged.

“How are you alive?”

Michael soured, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You didn’t push him, less for his sake and more for your own. You don’t know if you could take any more ghost stories. “A child killer is- is reanimated in the seven-foot-tall rabbit suit he killed and died in, and now wants to—What? Haunt the haunted pizzeria attraction?”

Michael shrugged, “I guess.”

You threw your hands up in the air exasperatedly, before dropping them loudly on the bed.

“He’s not... himself.”

You sighed, “What does that mean?”

Michael shrugged again, but this time more unsure, “You saw it yourself. What serial killer would stop mid-kill just because they heard a child’s laughter?”

You almost shivered at the memory of it—monstrous creature over you, crowbar in hand, eyes distorting and twitching— but he was right, “There was something strange in its— his eyes. They looked too human, which was eerie enough, but when you... when you played the audio clip, it was like the robot was battling for control.”

Michael hummed at that, “I don’t think it’s just my dad anymore.”

“Your serial killer dad.” You said, more to mention the absurdity of the situation.

Michael wasn’t pleased by it, “Yes. My serial killer dad. Apparently he’s been stuck behind a plastered wall for thirty years, so maybe he just lost his mind. Or maybe the suit has some leftover code that he can’t control. Probably, it’s a bit of both. But...”

You waited in anticipation for him to finish.

He shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. What matters is he won’t stop until he gets what he wants, and he’s not lucid enough to listen to reason.”

“What does he want?”

“To kill.” In Michael’s low, shredded voice, his grim warning sent a shiver up your spine. “So it’s good that you're not coming back, right?”

“But what are you doing here?” You asked, “Are you trying to stop him?”

“You’re not coming back, right? ” He bore holes into you with those unnerving, hallowed eyes of his.

You swallowed, “Right.”

───── (\ /) ─────

Wrong.

You parked your car off to the side where Michael wouldn’t be able to see; in the shadow of Fazbear’s Fright.

At least, now that you knew what you were dealing with (a serial killer in the metal body of a giant rabbit—that still felt absurd) you could be prepared for it. And just like the rabbit, you wouldn’t stop until you got what you wanted. Answers. And if the answers hurt too much...

Revenge.

44 notes · View notes

rainy-s-other-corner · 2 months ago

Text

Part 6 | Part 8

*The scene is set in the evening. Rosabell and Grim were on their way to Pomefiore with a duffel bag. Grim groaned before leaping on Rosabell's shoulders.*

Grim: *pouting* Why are we doing this again? We could have celebrated his birthday earlier.

Rosabell: True. But we haven't had time to hang out after the SDC and I have questions for him that he cannot get out of. Plus, you get to be pampered by us tonight.

Grim: Ugh! I know you're just going to put sweaters on me! And you're gonna treat me like a pet!

Rosabell: I know it'll be rough but if you promise to deal with it, and keep our secrets, we'll go into town and go to that favorite ice cream shop of yours this weekend.

Grim: *beams* Really?! Alright! You got a deal!

*The duo reaches the mirror to Pomefiore. Waiting for them next to it was Rook.*

Rook: Bonjour Mademoiselle Belle and Monsieur Fuzzball! I'm glad you could join us for the sleepover of Poi du Poison.

Rosabell: Of course. Vil had so much to do earlier that it's only fair we do this tonight. Besides, I have a question for him that he better not avoid.

Grim: *tilts head* What question?

Rosabell: Don't worry about it. Let's go ahead and get going. We can't keep the Queen waiting.

Rook: *smiles* Yes. Let's. *bows at Rosabell* Beauty first.

Rosabell: *rolls her eyes before turning toward Grim* I think the boss should go first.

Grim: *puffs his chest out* That's right! The boss should go first! Follow my lead! *jumps through the mirror*

Rook: ...

Rosabell: ...

Rook: *smile turns into a smirk* How did you figure it out?

Rosabell: It's the same thing you two did during SDC. I walk through and you bombard me with a makeover I didn't want. I'm not falling for it a second time. *gestured to the mirror* You go first.

Rook: Very well. *walks through the mirror*

*Rosabell follows him three seconds later, going through the mirror. She appears in front of the Pomefiore dorm. She sees Vil holding Grim by the scruff while Rook is laughing.*

Grim: Myah! Rosie! Help! Vil wants to put me in a sweater!

Vil: *smiles* It would be a fun birthday activity.

Grim: No!

*Rosabell tried to not laugh but noticed something was off.*

Rosabell: Huh? Where's-

???: Gotcha!

*Rosabell is picked up from behind. She turned her head around to see Epel smirking.*

Epel: Time to put you in a pink frilly dress!

Rosebell: *laughing* Epel! You piece of-!

Epel: Oh come on, Rosa! You should have seen this coming. We want to know what you look like in that dress! *starts carrying Rosabell inside Pomefiore* Come on, ya black cat!

Rosabell: I can walk, ya pipsqueak!

*Vil and Rook chuckled a bit before they and Grim followed suit. Two hours later, Vil, Rook, Epel, Rosabell, and Grim sat in Vil's bedroom. Epel is brushing Grim's fur while Rook writes in a small notebook. Vil and Rosabell are sitting right in front of each other, the Queen doing her makeup.*

Rosabell: Ya know, the guests usually pamper the birthday boy. Not the other way around.

Vil: *giggles* Like I would trust you to do my makeup. You would make me look just like the vampire I was for Halloween. Besides, It's my birthday and I want to do this.

Rosabell: You would be the most beautiful vampire in NRC.

Rook: *looks up from his notebook* I agree. Your beauty during Halloween had turned many heads toward you. Especially with a certain Beastman.

Vil: *snaps his head toward Rook* Shush!

Epel: *stops brushing Grim's fur* Huh? What do you mean?

Rosabell: *smirks* Is that so? Does this Beastman happen to be a prince?

Vil: ... *eye twitch*

Epel: What? The only Beastman student who's a prince would be-... *looks at Vil, his face twisting with disbelief* No. No way.

Vil: *works on Rosabell's blush* Not a single word.

Epel: No! We're talking about this! You and Leona?!

Rosabell: I know, right? When Azul told me this, I was shocked. But I am happy to know who "Pretty Lady" is.

Vil: *sighs and mutters* Cheka really should learn my name. *clears his throat* Fine. Yes. We dated briefly two years ago and broke up. That's it.

Rosabell: How did it happen? Did you fall first? Or did he?

Vil: *grabs Rosabell's chin* Stop moving. I'm not done yet. *Everyone's eyes are on him. He sighs* I met Leona when I was a freshman and when he was a sophomore. We were working on a joint class project where Pomefiore and Savanaclaw were to work together. We got paired together and...there was a feeling I've never felt before.

Grim: Was that when you two got together?

Vil: No. I asked him to accompany me to a new cafe during a study session, and it clicked from there. *dreamingly smiles* He's smarter than he lets on and he has a softness that could melt hearts.

*Rosabell, Grim, and Epel smiled as they heard him talk. Rook chuckled a bit.*

Rosabell: You two sounded perfect together.

Vil: *snaps out of his daydream and clears his throat* We were. But it got too much by the end of the year and we broke up. End of story.

Rook: *chuckles* Is it now?

Vil: *glares at Rook* Hush you. *turns his attention back at Rosabell, continuing her makeup* Let's not talk about that anymore. Unless you wish to talk about your own love life.

Rosabell: ...

Vil: I didn't think so. *finishes up her blush* And done. *hands her a mirror* What do you think?

Rosabell: *looks in the mirror* Well it's better than the pink dress you have been trying to put me in for weeks.

Rook: Oh! Quelle beauté! Your beauty could rival the Fairest Queen.

Rosabell: *smiles and nervously giggles* No way. I'm not that pretty.

*As Vil and Rook fuss over Rosabell, Epel slowly pulls his phone out. He opened the camera app and quickly took a photo of Rosabell.*

Grim: *tilts his head* Whatcha doing?

Epel: *whispers* Just taking a photo for the others. They won't believe this if I don't have proof. But she'll murder me if she sees me doing this.

*Rook claps his hands, grabbing everyone's attention.*

Rook: This deserves to be photographed! *grabs Epel and Grim from the scruff* I need you two to help me grab some equipment!

*The trio leaves the room, leaving Vil and Rosabell alone. Silence filled the air before Rosabell spoke up.*

Rosabell: *smirks* You still have feelings for him, don't ya?

Vil: *checks his nails* I don't know what you mean.

Rosabell: You had that longing in your eyes when you were talking about Leona. Plus, you always look at him like you were hit with a love arrow.

Vil: ...

Rosabell: Am I wrong?

Vil: You're not. But did I not just say that I would like to talk about your love life?

Rosabell: ...How about that birthday question? That seems more important than my love life.

Vil: *smiles* Now I'm more curious. Why won't you want to talk about your love life? What are you afraid of?

Rosabell: *looks away* Nothing! I just don't want to talk about it.

Vil: Is that so? Now I'm more interested in this. It has to be one of the freshmen. Is that correct?

Rosabell: *shifts uncomfortably* What makes you think that? Why not the sophomores or juniors?

Vil: *crosses his arms* You've said before that you would never date any of us juniors. And that you barely tolerate the sophomores. So it has to be one of the freshmen.

Rosabell: ...

Vil: And I already know who isn't your crush.

Rosabell: ...

Vil: It's obviously not Ortho.

Rosabell: Him and Grim are my babies. *Pauses* That never leaves this room.

Vil: Very well. And you treat Epel like your best friend. So it's either Spudling One, Spudling Two, Cucumber, or Jack.

Rosabell: ...

Vil: It is true then. Why do you hesitate? Why not tell him?

*Rosabell didn't respond at first. She just twisted the bottom of her skirt as she looked everywhere but at Vil. He smiled and fixed up her hair.*

Vil: Tell me. Please. *Rosabell stays silent* It won't leave this room. I promise.

Rosabell: *sighs* If I tell him, I don't know how things will go. Will I be going home without a way back? Will he reciprocate my feelings? Could I bear to look at him for who knows how long I'm here?

Vil: Is that all? Not every role will have certainty.

Rosabell: Well, the last time I confessed my feelings to someone, I was embarrassed in front of everyone. I don't want to go through that again.

Vil: Nonsense.

Rosabell: Huh?

Vil: Are the students here great? No. But you can rest assure that whoever it is will not do that to you. They know better than to break a girl's heart.

Rosabell: *raise an eyebrow*

Vil: ...Three of them knows better than to break a girl's heart. But trust me when I say this. Whoever you've chosen will do anything in his power to keep you happy and to stay by your side. And don't worry about when you get home. Just make the most of the time you have here.

Rosabell: *smiles a bit*

Vil: Now...which one is it?

Rosabell: *confused* What?

Vil: Who do you like? You pushed who I like. Now it's your turn. Who is it?

Rosabell: ...I would tell you. But... *glances behind her*

Vil: *look at the open door before readjusting himself* I see. Then, *places his hand on her lap, palm up* His first initial.

*Rosabell hesitated but eventually she traced the letter onto his palm. Vil looked at his palm before smirking. The younger student looked away, her face now pink.*

Vil: Him? You like him?

Rosabell: Yeah...

Vil: I see. I'm sure his Housewarden would love to help you get together with him.

Rosabell: *snaps her head toward him* You better not say anything!

Vil: *giggles* Of course not. But if you say nothing by your birthday, I will tell him.

Rosabell: ...Fine.

Vil: Speaking of birthdays, here is my question. Do you share your birthday with any of us?

Rosabell: No, I don't.

Vil: Very well. And I'm sure the others should be back any-

Rook: *rushes in with Epel, Grim, and a camera set* We're back! Let's take pictures!

*As Rook set up his camera, Vil adjusted Rosabell's makeup while Epel and Grim checked the group chat for the other's responses.*

#twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland #rosabell reyes #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #grim twst #slight leovil #a little hint of a ship

2 notes · View notes

girlinlotsoffandoms · 1 year ago

Text

day one - stab wound

notes: hi friends and welcome to febwhump 2024 or sev whump as I've been calling it. that's right, 29 days where I hurt or torture everyone's favorite squad lieutenant!

read on AO3 or below

It was a calm night at Molly’s, something the members of Firehouse 51 desperately needed after the past few shifts they’d had. The first cold snap of the season had brought snow and ice along with it, causing multiple car accidents and house fires that made for hectic shifts.

The entirety of 51’s second shift, even Boden, had made it to Molly’s that night. They all wanted to relax with a beer or two before heading to their homes for two days of well-deserved rest. The only one who hadn’t made it to Molly’s yet was Kelly, who’d met at the Fire Academy with the other instructors. Stella expected him soon though, he’d texted her when he left the Academy and told her he was heading over.

The relaxing night everyone so desperately wanted was promptly ruined when the door to Molly’s burst open and a young woman, barely over 21, ran into the bar. Her hair was wild, and mascara-stained tear streaks painted her cheeks, but the most alarming thing to everyone in the room was the bright red blood staining her hands.

“Help, please!” She cried from the door. “Someone call 911!”

It was those magic words that made everyone jump into action. The members of 51 sprang to their feet and ran towards the girl. Brett and Violet reached her first, immediately followed by the others.

Brett and Violet started checking her for injuries. “What’s your name sweetie?” Violet asked.

“M-Meagan.”

“Hi Meagan,” Brett said with a smile, trying to calm the girl. “Can you tell us what happened? Where are you hurt?”

Meagan shook her head. “No no no, it’s not me. You have to help him!”

“Help who? What happened?” Stella asked.

“My friend, Ava, and I were walking home and one of the guys from the bar down the street was following us, harassing us. He grabbed Ava’s arm and started being aggressive with her. Then this other guy runs up, pulls him away, and stands in between us and him. He told him to leave but the guy pulled a knife and he just…. he stabbed him!” Meagan explained, a fresh round of tears running down her face. “Ava’s in nursing school, she started applying pressure but he needs help!”

Boden pulled the phone away from his ear, 911 dispatch still on the line. “CPD and an ambo are a few minutes out.”

“Let’s go,” Herrmann ordered. He grabbed the first aid kit from behind the bar and led the group out of Molly's and into the chilly Chicago night.

It didn't take them long at all to find what they were looking for. There on the ground, on the other side of the street, was their victim. The closer they got though, they realized their victim wasn’t just a good Samaritan who tried to help someone in need.

“Oh my god,” Stella exclaimed. “Kelly!”

Stella sprinted the last few feet and dropped to her knees by Kelly’s side. Her eyes roamed over his body and her stomach dropped. Stella had never been one to be squeamish but the sight of her husband’s blood pouring onto the sidewalk made bile rise in her throat.

Out of the corner of her eye, Stella saw Ritter helping Ava up and Brett and Violet beginning to try and help Kelly but her focus was solely on Kelly. His eyes were glassy, and Stella could tell he was fighting to stay awake.

She moved closer to his head and laid a hand on his cheek, trying to keep his attention. “Hey, Kelly, stay awake ok?”

“Stell-“ Kelly started, quietly.

“Shhh, I’m right here,” Stella shushed him gently. “Don’t try and talk ok? Help’s on the way.”

“Girls?”

“They’re ok,” Stella said, a sad smile on her face. “You saved them.”

At Stella’s assurance that Ava and Meagan were safe, Kelly lost his hold on consciousness.

“No, no, no, Kelly!” Stella yelled, panicked. She tapped his cheek but Kelly didn’t respond.

Stella turned towards Brett and Violet, hoping for some reassurance, but the grim looks on their faces did the opposite. “What-?”

“The bleeding won’t stop,” Violet growled, frustrated. She tossed the bloodied gauze to the side, where a terrifying pile of soiled gauze had rapidly grown over the last few minutes.

Brett’s hands replaced Violet’s with fresh gauze, but it quickly began turning red. “I think the knife might have hit his spleen,” she said grimly.

“Where the hell is the ambulance?!” Stella cried.

“They’re pulling up now!” Cruz called from the street. He and the others from 51 had formed a barrier around their downed teammate and friend, keeping the curious masses away from the scene.

Sure enough, the street was soon bathed in sirens and flashing red and blue lights as the ambulance and a few CPD cruisers arrived. The paramedics made quick work getting Severide stable enough for transport. They loaded him into the ambulance, Stella climbing in right after.

“Stella,” Boden called from the doors of the ambulance. “We’ll meet you at the hospital as soon as we can.”

Stella gave a curt nod and turned her attention back to Kelly. Boden closed the ambulance doors and thumped it twice, signaling it was good to go.

The ambulance took off, lights and sirens blaring toward Med, leaving the shell-shocked group of first responders behind, drowning in a sea of red and blue and concern for their friend.

… … …

It was barely controlled chaos in the ambulance. Stella had taken over applying pressure to the wound while the paramedic got Kelly hooked up to the monitors and an IV started.

No matter how much pressure Stella applied, or how much she begged and pleaded, the bleeding just wouldn’t stop. Her husband, the love of her life, was bleeding out right in front of her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. This was not how their story was supposed to end–after everything they’d been through, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

Tears fell from Stella’s eyes. It’d been a while since she acted as a paramedic but the knowledge hadn’t left her. She knew Kelly had lost a lot of blood…was still losing a lot of blood. He needed surgery and transfusions and a hospital and he needed it fast but Stella knew there was no guarantee even that would be enough to save him.

Her mental and emotional turmoil was interrupted by the paramedic taking over holding pressure on the wound with fresh gauze.

Stella moved away towards Kelly’s head. She grabbed one of his hands, squeezed it, and leaned in close to him. “Don’t leave me, Kelly Severide. Don’t leave me.”

… … …

Stella had been alone in the waiting room for almost half an hour when the rest of 51 rolled in. They spotted Stella immediately and quickly hurried to her side. Brett and Violet, both now free of Severide’s blood, sat on either side of her and wrapped their arms around her.

“Any update?” Brett asked gently.

“They’re still working on him. Maggie said she’d update me as soon as she could.” Stella answered flatly. She was numb at this point. “Are Meagan and Ava ok?”

“PD took their statements and escorted them back to their apartments.” Boden shared, looking at Stella carefully. “Physically, they’ll both be fine. Mentally and emotionally, well…they’ve been connected with some resources to help them with that.”

Stella nodded. She understood that; they’d all be pretty messed up mentally and emotionally for a while. Seeing someone you love, a friend and teammate, bleeding out on the pavement will do that.

“What about the asshole who did this?”

“Cameras in the area caught the harassment and the stabbing, along with the guy’s face.” Mouch chimed in. “The officers on scene are looking for him and Trudy called Voight, so now Intelligence is involved as well. They’ll get him.”

Nodding, Stella went to say something else before jumping out of her seat at the sight of Maggie entering the waiting room.

“How is he?” Stella asked desperately.

“Dr. Marcel took him into surgery a few minutes ago. Scans confirmed the knife hit his spleen,” Maggie explained gently. It was always hard when a first responder was hurt but the entire Med team had soft spots for the firefighters of Firehouse 51. “He’ll be in surgery for a few hours. If you want to move up to the surgical waiting room, I’ll have someone keep you updated.”

“Thanks Maggie.”

… … …

It was several hours later, long past midnight, when Stella and the others got the news they had been desperately waiting to hear: Severide was out of surgery and would make a full recovery.

Dr. Marcel had been able to save his spleen but they’d be keeping a close eye on Kelly in the ICU for a few days to make sure no more bleeding occurred. Kelly also had to have several blood transfusions, so he’d be weaker than normal as his body recuperated.

He’d be off work for a while and would need PT and a lot of rest but he would heal.

Everyone in the waiting room was relieved, the stress of the night falling off of them. Stella once again had tears streaming down her face only this time, they were tears of joy.

“Thank you, Dr. Marcel.”

“You’re welcome,” Dr. Marcel said. He hugged Stella briefly then stepped back. “He’s in recovery now but they’ll be moving him to a room soon. Visiting hours are over but we’ll make it so you guys can see him for a minute. Stella, you’ll be able to stay overnight with him but the rest of you should go home and get some sleep.”

There were nods all around. After years as first responders, they were all seasoned pros regarding hospital and visitation guidelines. They were all just grateful they’d be able to see Severide.

Stella was thankful she was automatically given the green light to stay with Kelly in the ICU. She was prepared to do whatever it took to stay with her husband, hospital rules and visiting hours be damned.

… … …

It was a quiet night in Kelly’s ICU room. After seeing Kelly and saying goodbye to Stella, the other members of 51 headed home with the promise of returning later that day. Stella had settled into the chair by Kelly’s bed, grabbed his hand, and waited for him to wake up.

She ended up falling into a fitful sleep, the uncomfortable chair and constant interruptions from medical staff coming in to check on Kelly keeping her from getting more than an hour or so at a time. It certainly didn’t help that every time she closed her eyes, she saw her husband bleeding out in agonizing detail.

Those images were why she forced herself to stay awake, downing cups of crappy hospital coffee to try and avoid that nightmare as long as she could. She’d lived through it once; she didn’t want to experience it again.

It was, however, because of that very real nightmare and the fear and anxiety surrounding it, that Stella was wide awake when Kelly started moving the hand she was holding.

“Kelly?” Stella’s voice was gentle, but the emotion still rang clear. She stood from her chair to be closer to the bed, still gripping his hand. “You with me?”

The wait seemed painfully slow but eventually Stella was rewarded with the sight of Kelly’s beautiful blue eyes. Stella smiled her first real smile in hours as happy tears filled her eyes. She moved her free hand up to Kelly’s cheek. “There you are. How do you feel?”

Still groggy from a combination of blood loss, anesthesia-induced sleep, and pain meds, all Kelly could do was groan in response to Stella, making her chuckle. “That well, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kelly grumbled, his voice thick from being unused. Stella quickly poured him a cup of water and held the straw to his lips so he could drink. After a few sips, Stella took the cup away to keep him from overdoing it. “Meagan and Ava. Are they okay?”

“They’re fine, babe. You saved them.” Stella tried to keep her voice from cracking but the longer she looked at Kelly she was reminded of what had happened and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “You scared the hell out of me. Seeing you like that I thought…. I thought I was going to lose you.”

There wasn’t much Kelly could say because he knew how close he’d come to dying, to leaving Stella behind. Telling her he was okay wasn’t the best bet, given how horrible he felt, so he went in a different direction. “I’m sorry I scared you. I just, I saw that asshole messing with Meagan and Ava and I knew I had to do something. I just thought he was drunk… I didn’t think he’d have a knife.”

“I know.” Stella squeezed his hand. “You’re a good man Kelly Severide and I love you so much but please, don’t get stabbed again.”

“I will try my hardest not to,” Kelly chuckled, but it was quickly cut off by a groan.

Stella rubbed his arm soothingly and hit the call button on the wall behind his bed. He’d been awake long enough without a nurse or doctor coming in to check on him and it was clear to Stella that he needed some pain meds whether he said so or not. She could see it in his eyes.

It didn’t take long for a nurse to enter the room and Dr. Marcel followed soon after. He was pleased with what the monitors were showing and how Kelly’s incision looked. Dr. Marcel wasn’t ready to move him out of the ICU just yet, but things were looking promising. They hooked Kelly up to a pain pump so he could give himself a bolus of pain meds when he needed it.

With pain meds on board, Kelly fell back asleep quickly. Now that she wasn’t crippled with worry, Stella felt lighter. There was still fear and anxiety lurking in the shadows and she was sure the memories of last night would stay with them both for a long time, but Kelly would be okay and they would deal with it together.

#febwhump #sev whump #kelly severide #chicago fire #stellaride #girlinlotsoffandomfics

13 notes · View notes

cartoon-buffoon · 10 months ago

Text

Here's the objective, factual— if you disagree you're a mook—Cartoon Cat song tier list (/J, this is my personal ranking)

Explanation (going down from the tiers)

S Tier

Toon Catastrophe: I love this song, incredibly catchy with some good lyrics, not what I feel like a standard CC song should be but I think that works for it really well. I think the grim and depressing lyrics about how absolutely fucked you are while this snappy catchy beat really adds to it, there's also a decent part of humor with the humans characters in the song acting casual about this eldtritch monstrosity saying "maybe he needs the ol' litter box!". This part could make some people dislike the song yet I feel like it being goofy actually fits because CC is powerful but having him be a goofy element to his sinister presence does wonders. Not to mention this moment DOES NOT LAST and a few minutes later CC himself sings and comes out with STRAIGHT BARSthat give me chills:

"You can tiptoe and run all you want! I'm on the prowl, and I'm just being blunt but you're lookin' delicious, you're lookin' nutritious, you're probably going to sleep with the fishes! Cartoon Cat, I'm the Cartoon Cat, I'm the one and only, imagine that! The flavor of human is truly divine, let's count down the seconds before you die"

Only for CC to do a whispery countdown and then it goes back to singing. THATS STRAIGHT FIRE deserved top of S-tier plus the visuals look great with CC being stylized but still pretty accurate to Mr. Henderson's works, his walk cycle is pretty eerie and I love that too.

Run Away: it's fucking crazy this is 4 years old and it still holds up. The voice they give CC has been exactly how it sounds in my head since I've watched this It's one of my favorite voices for him with it being incredibly snarky and playful but still sinister. The entire song is essentially CC going on about how he's going to catch you and eat you which granted isn't very creative but with the rhythm so good it doesn't need to be. The simple lyrics work for it as well so the lack of creativity regarding the song doesn't matter, not to mention the bit after the second chorus utilizing a piano has to be my favorite parts. Overall good rhythm and in general solid.

A Tier

I honestly believe both entires in A tier are great and it was hard to put them down here, I wanted to put them both in S and it was a kinda 3-way tie with Run Away being considered to be put down here but ultimately I chose against it.

Tapes of Old: "but this isn't a Cartoon Cat song! It's a cartoon dog song–" SHUT UP MY TIER LIST MY RULES! SHUSH! SHHHH! Sorry but I actually really love this song, it doesn't really paint CD as a "good guy" like some people love to HC him as being the good version of CC meant to kill CC. Instead CD is just another creature with immense power who hates CC and they've had an eternal battle spanning across forever, it's been so long they don't even know why they fight they merely do, it's LITERALLY like cats and dogs. CD is pretty goofy looking in the video yet this works great and the run cycle of him on all fours sprinting creeps me out and if I saw that running at me oh yeah no that would be fucking terrifying. There's a specific section of the song that I believe implies CC and CD are harmonizing as well? Like after the second chorus there's a bit where it goes "our fight continues on and on! It keeps on going, never done! I keep thinking that cat is gone but it tells me RUN, RUN, RUN! it's a cycle I cannot escape, chasing forever this cat and a day, I refuse to take this as my fate! Some day I will put down the stray!". I heavily believe this is both of them singing at once with CD taking over only briefly to talk about the cat not dying, but the part where it goes "some day I will put down the stray!" It switches between the animation of CC walking and CD walking with "stray" being a neutral term for an animal with both calling the other a stray. The shared hatred and story these lyrics give make it soooo good plus it's fun to listen to, yeah once again struggled to put it down here in A.

Masquerade: also once again, I didn't really want to put this in A nor put this below Tapes of Old or Run Away as I believe these 3 are pretty on par with one and another. I bit the bullet though and this song? Although I don't believe it's the BEST CC song, it's my FAVORITE because the lyrics are once again aren't overly creative similar to Run Away and it's merely talking about how he's gonna get ya and you can't hide ya know. I will say though the title of the song and the tagline lyrics "After my little masquerade", I specifically love this masquerade line as it's a reference to the fact that CC isn't a cat nor cartoon. It's one giant act in order to latch onto this world and he just loves pretending to be one because he's something that is god-like. This is especially reflected in the lyrics that paints a real sense of hopelessness as while he also talks about killing he also does a good job demonstrating why running is pointless saying "Oh I have so much power!" Or "oh you don't know what I can do, especially to prey like you". This confidence combined with the voice they gave CC that's echoey and generally emotionless is so good as it once again paints a very vivid picture this is a mere game to him, all of it including your life means nothing to him and you're only alive because he's having fun. He doesn't need to worry about a thing, you're in his sights and it's over. Not to mention the visuals? OOOO, the SFM CC model is the perfect blend between fanon CC and canon CC being a weird middle ground that I think is perfect. I especially love how his ears look furry but their not, like the rest of his body it's pure rubber and it's just him trying to sell the bit of being a cartoon cat. Also towards the end of the song it shows CC commanding several other Mr. Henderson creations which granted isn't realistic as they all stay away from CC and CC also minds his own business, but this idea of him commanding over these twisted creatures kinda like an even more fucked up Bill cipher tickles me in a way I can't describe (and has also inspired an au of mine!). I love this song, sorry.

B tier

While these are good I wouldn't say they are in any way on the same level as A-tier because A-tier holds two songs which only BARELY didn't make the cut to be S and in all reality was more of a 3-way tie.

Curiosity Don't Kill This cat: I don't got much to say, lyrics are pretty standard as you'll see for all of these songs however one thing I will say though I love the much more ominous tone CC has. It feels like the standard for a song about him but other than masquerade I think this is the only one that does it hold throughout the entire song. Also I love the various jokes thrown in throughout the song like "I'm not some hello kitty!" Or "has cat got your tongue!", cat puns are par for the course yet I feel like this song is the only one that fully utilizes them. The beginning is pretty cute I will make a note on that with a kinda jingle for theoretical cartoon featuring CC, a cutesy version of him is also drawn on there which is adorable. The only last thing I will say is like all of these this pretty catchy with the part I keep replaying being "come over and watch me smile bigger, I'm walking on two paws towards my dinner, you're messing with fate and I'm all for it, curiosity don't kill this cat!". It's good overall with the visuals not having too much to comment on other than CC doing the funkiest little wave.

Outrun This Cat: looking back I actually think is pretty good than I first thought? Idk why I put it down so low this belongs in at least low A-tier I'm a fucking moron. Uhh starters the visuals have CC looking ugly as hell which works, ya know he ain't supposed to be pretty and the bloody gums sell this. As he's singing he's also very expressive, his entire body contorting or swaying using a mallet and pulling out a watch at one point. As much as I love ominous slow hunter CC the upbeat, energetic, and chaotic version holds a place in my heart. Towards the end of the song there's also a part with a toon version of CC and normal monstrous looking CC and I find this cool as the idea he can be either form but chooses the more horrific one funny. The lyrics are also solid, once again the standard of "you're gonna die" is set yet I think there is some cleverness like "better run for your life like a rat or it shreds you up instead", which btw the lyrics say "shredders" which I think is an intentional misspelling as it's a mix between shreds and cheddar because ya know, rat? Idk I find it funny shut up, but also the line "you're life on the line, it simply can't compare against my nine!". Nothing Shakespeare level ofv but still pretty good in my opinion, also the song has a bit of story with CC hating humans stating "there is no use for your urbanity, humanity drives mad my sanity" which I think is supposed to come with the implication that he was a cartoon abandoned which is why he hates people as this is supported by the lyric "abanonded in 2D—too bad i jumped to 3D!". Overall catchy and honestly really good than the ranking I gave it—heck there's a remix of this song made by "Mautzi" that features some FUCKING AWESOME THUMBNAIL ART, but also the way they remixed it would probably make it S-tier and beating Cartoon Catastrophe.

C Tier

He's The Cartoon Cat: I don't know, the song on paper isn't bad and I think the beat drop towards the end IS FUCKING INSANE AND CRAZY, but that singular great part doesn't make up for the rest of it being kinda a drag? I will say the optimism in the song only for the build up to the beat drop is phenomenal with the "run... Run... Run away!" Slowly distorting is a nice touch and makes it feel like the song was made by CC himself and hes intentionally trying to strike fear into the listener. Once again one good part doesn't make the entire good thing though yet in no way a bad song.

D tier

Kitty Kitty: I love rockit music yet they are a truly hit or miss nerdcore artist(s), this one sadly misses. Like it's not bad or at least not that bad, if I were listening to it on a playlist and it came on I wouldn't skip it, yet it wouldn't be something intentionally play, ya know? Like not a song I'd search for but if it comes up I'll vibe to it. I think the lyrics here are actually worse than Run Away in terms of nothingness though, it doesn't have that good of a beat to support these nothing lyrics making it suffer drastically. Once again, Rockit music has cooked some of my FAVORITE nerdcore songs but this one ain't it sadly.

That's about it, I ain't got no more tiers. All CC songs have their own merits with a few having somethings that just personally wasn't for me but I'm sure is someone else's cup of tea. That's the last song and there's no more, no more songs left. Anyways ramble over and Toon Buffoon out.

#cartoon cat #trevor henderson cartoon cat #CC nerdcore music #music #tier list #rambles from toon #im not gonna explain why i hate horror skunx or bad karma #maybe if im irrationally angry enough later I'll go off but i just can't

5 notes · View notes