#so maybe I’ve been doomed to this fate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rapturously · 10 months ago

Note

uhh asking for a request of bo and just anything that involves with duct tape 😭😭 gagging or bounding im happy either way

Also love ur work! 🩷💖

souvenir.

➾ pairing ; bo sinclair x fem!reader.

in which bo decides that he’ll take you as his souvenir — a pretty hiker lost in ambrose.

format: one-shot — requested.

word count: 5.3K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), DUBCON, drugging, kidnapping, bondage (tape and chains), restraints, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, groping, knifeplay, rough sex, p in v sex, different positions, spitting, choking, bruising, hair-pulling, scratching, marking, use of pet names (good girl, sweetheart, etc.), dom/sub dynamics, begging, dirty talk, edging, creampie, unprotected sex, bo is definitely not nice in this fic

author’s note: this is definitely more of a darker fic, but I actually loved writing it ,,, nothing like gross and horny sex with bo sinclair to get the blood flowing! I hope you all enjoy! Still working on requests, I’m hoping to post a few things this week since I’ve been so busy!

Warm, glittering rays of a vibrant Louisiana sun cut through the thick canopy of trees and marshland, bathing your face in a haze of heat. It was midday — hot and sticky, accompanied by a stifling humidity that was prevalent in the South, not terribly far from a saltwater coastline.

Beneath you was the grass — clutches of wildflowers blossomed amongst strands of emerald, a temporary refuge for you to rest as you savored the outdoors. A town sat in the near-distance, baking away underneath the sun, as evidenced by the paint wearing thin and the asphalt looking gray instead of black.

You’d been hiking by yourself — that was your first mistake. Too brazen and bold enough to be without the company of your friends, and now, subject to the ire of Ambrose’s hidden devils.

It was akin to ringing the dinner bell when Lester had caught wind of your presence through the scope of a well-used Barrett. Once he’d informed Bo over a very colorful phone call, your fate was sealed, doomed to become another pretty fixture in the House of Wax.

There was no getting out of Ambrose — you just didn’t know it yet.

As the glaring sun began to slip behind the verdant canopy above you, you took it as a sign to relocate, trekking the short distance toward the quaint town. You could hear the general buzz and chatter of townsfolk, but there wasn’t a soul in-sight — the ones that were, confined to their eternal tombs.

“Nobody’s home.” You murmured, thumbing the thick straps of your backpack as you sauntered down the middle of the road, glancing at some of the vehicles lining the road. Some appeared brand-new, others showing signs of weathering.

You passed the gas station and row of various houses, making your way toward the church. The distant hum of an organ guided your path, leading you to the steps and to the devil himself.

Bo Sinclair stood in front of a set of white doors, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, a bead of sweat glistening upon his brow. He wore his Sunday best to look the part, gaze flickering toward your pretty, doe-eyed countenance when you’d stopped a few feet away.

A cloud of billowing smoke drifted into the air, a thin gray wisp that dissipated into the staggering heat. He appraised you in an unusual silence, drinking you in, shamelessly admiring the way your jeans clung to your body. Bo’s own fascination was nearly palpable — he still wondered what possessed a girl to go hiking alone.

Maybe you were stupid — he didn’t think so.

“Sermon getting to you?” You hadn’t intended to come off as simpering or awkward, gesturing toward the cigarette in the stranger’s mouth. A chattering ambiance and piano music emanated from inside of the church, and you felt severely underdressed in the presence of this man — the only one you’d seen in the town so far.

A huff escaped him as he ashed his cigarette, granules of charcoal floating towards the steps. “Might need another cigarette if that’s the case,” Bo chortled, taking another long drag. He ogled you again, jaw tensing as he sized you up, unbeknownst to you. “You lost?”

You would do perfectly — prettiest thing he’d seen in ages, that much was for certain.

Bo’s mind worked differently than yours, sinister and callous when compared to your innocuous demeanor. Whilst you stood along the picket-fence, contemplating about finding a good drink of water, Bo was picturing you strapped down to his bed, clothes cut away.

“A little bit,” It was painful for you to confess to being lost, considering how many times you’d traversed the backwoods of Louisiana. The sound of your voice was enough to momentarily sever Bo’s salacious train of thought, watching as you picked at the fading paint along the fence. “Do you know if there’s a convenience store around here or anything?”

He shook his head, motioning down the street. “Closed for th’day, I’m afraid. Lookin’ for somethin’ in particular?” Bo asked, attempting to lay the foundation for you, building a rapport that was surely to break once he got his hands on you. It was all about the building.

You shrugged, withering away beneath the oppressive heat of the midday sun. You wondered how this man was so unusually comfortable within an all-black suit and tie. Nonetheless, you decided to be truthful. “I’m just looking for a quick drink before I hike back to the main road. I’m a little low on water.”

“If you’re willin’ to make the trek, I can take you up to my place. Won’t take long, ten minutes or so.” Bo offered, attempting to sweeten the deal. It was akin to a predator skillfully drawing their prey inward, making it difficult to resist. He took another lengthy drag of his cigarette before smashing it against the concrete with the toe of his boot.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother,” Admittedly, you felt intrusive — a meddlesome presence amidst a quiet, peaceful town. You felt even worse interrupting a church service, but Bo didn’t seem phased whatsoever. “I don’t want to distract you from church, either.”

Bo scoffed, lips twitching into something sardonic, one hand perched atop his hip. “Don’t think th’good Lord really cares a whole lot for me these days,” He mused, and you couldn’t tell if he was being serious. “Let me take you up there.” He motioned for you to follow him.

Leaving the white chapel behind, you walked alongside him, somewhat smitten by his Southern drawl and charismatic charm. Beads of sweat glistened along his brow, and he promptly loosened his tie as the two of you made it toward a stretch of beaten-up road.

“Name’s Bo, by th’way. Forgot my manners.” Bo mused, making sure to really lay on the flirtation and appeal. It wasn’t hard for him to tell how flustered you were already — and he fully intended on manipulating such a fact.

“Nice to meet you, Bo.” You smiled, cordial and polite as you sauntered alongside him. “How long have you lived here in Ambrose? It seems so far from the rest of civilization.” It was out of reach, away from the rest of the world, a world that was impervious to the sinister deeds of the Sinclairs.

Unfortunately, you were now in their territory, subject to their rules and ire.

Bo chuckled, shamelessly stealing glances at you whenever possible. You were gorgeous — a looker with a sweet demeanor. He wanted to lick that sweetness right off of you, drain it all, keep it for himself. “Lived here for most of my life. Town’s real quiet, jus’ known for the House of Wax.”

Intrigue glistened upon your features, and you recalled the sign that you’d spotted during your hike — Trudy’s infamous House of Wax. The building itself sat in the distance, nestled amongst a cluster of hills. Even that seemed relatively dormant.

“It’s nice here, really peaceful. You must get used to the silence.” You replied, stepping up the incline as Bo gently steadied you with one arm. You murmured a soft ‘thank you’ as a house came into view, rustic yet large. This must’ve been Bo’s home. “Is this it?”

He motioned toward the house, wrapping his tie around his hand as he loosened up his collar. “Yeah, this is it. We’ll go on inside, you can sit an’ I’ll get you fixed up with somethin’ for the road.” Bo chimed, making his way to the front door.

Bo let you inside, gesturing toward the couch and recliner that sat in the living room. It was a very well lived-in home, but you didn’t seem to mind. You moved toward the couch, finally able to sit somewhere comfortable and relax, placing your backpack beside you.

“Thank you for doing this, Bo. I appreciate it.” You piped up, watching as he moved toward the kitchen. The interior of the home felt warm and inviting, littered with plenty of things to look at. There was ample opportunity for Bo to take matters into his own hands.

One of the cupboards in the kitchen had what he needed, a syringe filled with some strange concoction, a thicker liquid. His dark gaze darted toward you, distracted by your surroundings. Bo took the syringe, discreetly keeping it by his side as he stepped behind you, offering you a water bottle.

“‘Course. Heat’s pretty bad in these parts.” He replied, and you immediately unscrewed the lid, greedily drinking several gulps of icy water. Bo was close, hovering above you with a manic look in his eyes.

Before you had time to properly react, his hand closed around the underside of your jaw, squeezing tight to hold you steady. The intrusive, cold prick of a needle digging into your neck made you scream, but Bo had you in a rather uncomfortable chokehold.

“Shh, shh,” He soothed, stroking at your hair. Everything felt numb, and you could no longer feel anything in your arms and legs, reduced to simple tingling sensations. Your cries were in vain, throaty and hoarse as you sank into the couch, limp and lifeless. “Jus’ relax. All that strugglin’ is gonna make it worse.”

Your eyes felt heavy, beginning to close with a weight to them — the last thing you remembered was the glimpse of Bo’s insidious smirk and dark hues before you’d been rendered unconscious.

———————————————————————————

The scratch of duct-tape reverberated around the concrete cellar, obnoxiously close to your ear, causing you to involuntarily wince. The haze of unconsciousness was lifting, but that sound — it made you groan, unpleasant and invasive. You attempted to move as the heaviness wore away in your limbs, but you had no such luck.

You were in the underbelly of some cold, dingy cellar, cement walls lined in grainy polaroids, tools, and obscene amounts of sex toys. An icy, uncomfortable sensation began to pool within the pit of your stomach, and you tried to jerk against the tape around your wrists.

A strange, unsettling chill fluttered about your body, causing you to shudder. Your hiking boots were nowhere to be found, flannel stolen too, leaving you in your shorts and tank top. Something felt intrusive, as if there was an outside presence bearing down on you, crawling beneath your flesh.

Bo was standing at the foot of a strange chair, stained with months-old cruor, dressed differently than before. A pair of mechanic’s coveralls were stained with grease and oil, dark enough to conceal bloodstains. He bit at the strip of duct-tape, clutching it between his teeth as he bound you, keeping you restrained.

“W—Wait,” You babbled, and suddenly, the heightened sensation of fear and startlement blistered through you, visceral and volatile. “Please don’t do this.” Your whimpers fell on deaf ears as Bo continued his mission, sweat layered in a thin sheen along his temples.

Death in a town that wasn’t on the map was a fate worse than any other — you would rot into the ground with no one to find you, only the animals and trees would know; bear witness. You would cease to exist and become a memory, a painful one, eternally trapped within Ambrose.

“You can make this real easy on yourself,” Bo’s husky, dark drawl emerged from the bitter chill of the cellar, roughened hands sliding along your legs. “All you gotta do is behave for me, yeah?” He stood above you, a twisted version of the man you’d met at the church — or perhaps, the real him.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling vulnerable and exposed in your current position. Your hands were bound on either side of you with many rings of duct-tape, legs chained to the floor, yet there was some room for you to walk — if that were even possible. You shivered, mostly from the oppressive cold of the basement coupled with fear.

“Please,” Your chest felt tight, fear unfurling from your ribcage as it spread across your body. A shudder rolled down your spine when Bo grabbed your chin, thumb stroking along your lower lip. “Please don’t kill me.”

Something about this place told you that he’d killed before — they’d been in the very same spot that you were now. A sinister, lascivious gleam glimmered within his dark eyes as they raked over your body, lips curling into a smirk.

“Didn’t say anything about killin’ you, beautiful.” Bo corrected, digits beginning to squeeze your chin, putting pressure on your jaw. “But I might change my mind if y’make this hard for me.” His other hand moved toward your shorts, unbuttoning the front as he ripped the zipper down in one swift movement.

You began to squirm, mortified and flustered as you fought against the tape wrapped around your wrists — but it wasn’t any use. “Don’t.” Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper as he gave you a pointed look.

Bo scoffed, head cocking to one side. “Be a shame if I gotta shut that pretty mouth of yours, too.” It wasn’t a warning, but a threat, a promise — one that he intended to make good on if you weren’t careful. “Gonna open up for me?” He crooned.

There was something hideous about him touching you — and even more so was the disgusting fact that you wanted to let him do it. He was handsome at the church, all a facade of Southern charm and debonair wit, but this was something else entirely.

With a defeated, pitiful expression, you began to part your legs, and that was akin to victory for Bo. His dark chuckle made you shiver, feeling his hand brusquely tug and wrestle with your shorts, inching them down your legs. “You’re real pretty,” He uttered, looking you in the eyes. “Prettiest thing I’ve seen in ages.”

Heat pooled within the pit of your stomach, and you clenched your hands into fists, nearly whimpering when he ghosted his fingers across your clothed cunt. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction — this was wrong, depraved on so many levels, but you found yourself submitting instead of retaliating.

A strangled whimper escaped you as he rounded the chair, standing right in front of you as he planted a kiss against your forehead. “Bet you’re all wet from this, huh?” He husked, voice kept to a low growl as he slipped his fingers into your panties.

Arousal had collected there, slick and warm upon his digits. Part of you wanted to melt into the chair and disappear, muscles tense and taut as you worked to suppress your whining.

“Fuck, look at that,” Bo sneered, greedily sucking your nectar right from his fingers, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. “Guess I was right.” His hand returned to your aching cunt, the other wrangling your panties aside, movements harsh and rough.

You hated that it felt good, offered you a sliver of relief — you wanted to scratch at your restraints, thighs beginning to quiver. A string of incoherent babbling escaped you, mumbled pleas for him to stop. It was quite the juxtaposition to your hips, which happened to lurch forward into his hand.

Bo bullied his way in between your legs, spreading you apart as he lowered himself to his knees — unexpected, but you still felt embarrassed. “Gonna have to have a taste of this pretty cunt,” With a gravelly hum, he grabbed your thighs, unceremoniously spitting a wad of saliva onto your throbbing cunt. “Don’t move.”

“Bo,” It was almost involuntary, moaning his name as you jolted forward, mouth agape. Bo’s grin felt like a hot brand against your inner thigh as he clamped his hands down into your legs, hard enough to cause bruises. “P—Please.” You sputtered.

Part of you felt terribly embarrassed for enjoying yourself at the hands of this man who’d kidnapped you, your innocence being taken advantage of. His calloused, rough hands spread you apart, broad tongue licking a stripe along the length of your slit.

Bo was eating you out like a man starved, breath hot and heavy as he savored you with his lips, tongue swirling across your cunt. His hands groped into your haunches, against the swell of your pliant flesh, practically forcing your hips to tilt into his face as he buried his head between your legs.

With a wanton moan, you slouched back into the rigid frame of the chair, listening to it creak and groan as you writhed around. The manacles that shackled you to the concrete rustled with your movements, fingers curling into your palms. His tongue was deliberate and slow, teasing you with every stroke.

You tried to smother your noises, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but he was ten steps ahead of you. “Can’t hear you, sweetheart,” Bo stopped, ceasing any further contact until you submitted to him. “Gonna have to beg for it, I s’pose.” His sigh was theatrical and badgering, forcing you to whimper.

A simpering, choked-up noise escaped from the back of your throat, desperation beginning to mount as you jerked and jolted forward. Bo simply sat still, attempting to smother that smarmy, devilish grin of his as you shook your head back and forth. “Please keep going, please!” You cried.

Bo clicked his tongue, seemingly unimpressed and dismissive, reaching for the knife that sat in his back pocket. “Ain’t ever met a girl this ungrateful. You rather I stop an’ get this all over with?” His voice was vitriolic, full of a manipulative venom that only served to drag you deeper into his pit.

The sharp, icy blade suddenly traced over your legs, goosebumps erupting in its wake as you shook your head. You didn’t want Bo to hurt you — the idea of being harmed, of being so helpless — it frightened you. Bo enjoyed seeing that little pang of fear within your doe eyes as he prodded the tip of razor-sharp silver into your flesh.

“I’m sorry,” You gasped, stumbling over your words and babbling, restless within the chair. “Bo, please! I — I’ll be loud, I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt me.” It was a gushing string of pleas and begging that didn’t go unnoticed this time.

With soft shushing, Bo sighed, kissing along your inner thigh as he dug his nails into your flesh. It was rough enough to make you feel the burning sting of pain, chest heaving with labored breaths as he nudged his lips against your cunt again. “I think I’m gonna keep you for m’self, how’s that sound?” He uttered.

“Good, good,” You nodded. “I — I want you, please keep going.” Whatever bite and edge you had before had diminished completely, shadowed by his dark, domineering nature. It was hard for anything to break through that barrier of his. He retracted the knife, then and there.

A cajoling chuckle escaped him, one filled with mockery and a duplicitous edge as he lapped at your cunt once more. His tongue was like hot coals, raking across your slit with a wanton need, fingers grabbing and groping at the meat of your thighs.

His cock twitched within his jeans, desperate to be inside of you, make you scream. You wanted to grab at his tousled tresses or grip onto his shoulders, but the duct-tape prevented you from going anywhere, digging into your wrists.

Bo savored you as if you were some delectable meal, licking his lips before toying with your clit. His mouth was feather-light and teasing that bundle of nerves, enough to make you contort within the chair. A strangled moan left you, noisy and desperate, wrought with desire.

“Please, Bo, please,” You breathed, and when your thighs threatened to squeeze his face, he roughly pushed you apart, gazing at you from between your legs. The duct-tape chafed at your flesh, uncomfortably tight around your wrists as you writhed, hips bucking forward. “Please!” You were nearly sobbing.

All inhibitions had been abandoned — you were his now, reduced to his pretty plaything, all spread out on a silver platter. Molten heat surged through you when he lapped at your cunt, hand slipping down as he teased your entrance, giving you no warning as two digits sank into you.

A blissful whine left you, head rolling back against the chair as he nudged your clit, just enough to keep you chasing after that sensation. Bo was undeniably cruel, grazing his teeth over the sensitive bud, causing you to squirm and shiver, all sound escaping you.

“Sing pretty for me,” Bo’s husky, Southern purr emerged from between your thighs, teeth nicking your thigh before he finally began to suck on your clit. His thick digits pistoned in and out of your weeping cunt, providing you with an overwhelming barrage of pleasure. “That’s it.” He huffed, lurching forward.

The rattling of chains couldn’t rip you from the moment as liquid heat coalesced between your legs, with Bo’s chin steeped in your arousal. You moaned again, flexing against your restraints, stomach churning with an anticipation that made you want to melt.

Bo grunted, greedily lapping at your sweet cunt, fingers beginning to curl into that sweet spot, prompting you to choke on any sound that bubbled within your throat. He was like a predator, with you in his clutches, a rabbit trapped within the jaws of a wolf.

With another barrage of practiced licks, he continued his onslaught against your clit, eliciting a myriad of sinful, inhuman sounds from you. Bo — it was the only word that fell from your lips like some chant, and he didn’t stop, feeling your knees buckle and shake around him.

His digits buried themselves into your tight cunt, sluggishly rocking in and out as he sucked on your clit. It sent you careening over the edge, lost to a white-hot explosion of ecstasy as you came, moaning and shivering, a complete and utter mess.

He was the devil — pearlescent teeth glinting in the low, buzzing light of the cellar. The shadows moved in a way that made him seem sinister. You were surprised that he didn’t have horns and a forked tongue, but it was likely a trick of the eyes. You huffed, fading away into your post-orgasm haze, but Bo was far from finished.

“We ain’t done just yet,” He uttered, licking his lips as he moved up from between your legs, hand gripping your chin as he dragged you forward. Bo made you open your mouth, head tilted backward as he leaned in, countenance contorting into a sneer. “Got a little gift for you, for bein’ good.”

A wad of his saliva landed upon your tongue, and you nearly choked, feeling filthy and vulnerable. His eyes glistened with an insidious shade, shadowed and bemused as he closed your mouth, forcing you to swallow his spit.

Bo was expectant, waiting for you to say something — but when nothing emerged, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Where’s your manners?” He reminded you, patting your jaw like he would a beloved dog.

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, somewhat shrewd as Bo grinned, seemingly satisfied with your answer. You squirmed again when Bo began to unzip the front of his pants, breathing noticeably heavier and wrought with unrestrained excitement.

“Now,” Bo hummed, fishing his cock from the confines of his jeans. His erection was thick and heavy within his calloused palm, oozing with pearls of precum. With a step in your direction, he pressed the head of his cock against your cunt. “M’gonna fuck you right.”

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, letting out another moan as he teased your entrance, hooking his hands around your hips. Bo was rough and callous, dragging you forward as he sank his cock into you, grunting at the tightness and warmth.

Another wanton moan escaped you, back beginning to arch as he thrust forward, chest rippling with grunts and subtle growls. Lewd, crass noises reverberated throughout the cellar, the only ambiance that you could really focus on. His shadow eclipsed the stark glare of the light, gaze fixated on you.

Bo’s eyes were shadowed, brewing with something dark yet indecipherable. He began to adopt a very brutal pace, cock pounding away at your poor cunt. You hadn’t done this in so long, to the point where it felt borderline unfamiliar. You sputtered and moaned, feeling one of his hands abandon your leg.

That rough, calloused hand of his found its way to your slender neck, digits squeezing at your throat. It wasn’t particularly gentle, but not enough to completely rob you of air. You whined, unable to keep from watching the way his cock disappeared again and again into your sweet, oozing cunt.

You wanted to grab onto him, onto his arm, chest, anything — instead, you were met with harsh resistance from the duct-tape. “Bo,” You moaned, hips rolling in-tandem with his movements. Bo hunched closer, hand tight around your throat as his thumb pressed into your jugular, causing you to wince. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Bo’s voice dropped to a lower octave, cock rutting away into you with a rough, unyielding amount of force. If he went any harder, he might’ve threatened to split you in half. “Fuck, you’re nice n’tight. Can’t believe you’re gettin’ off to this. You like bein’ tied down an’ fucked by a stranger?” He uttered, and you began to stammer.

A wave of liquid heat burned bright within the pit of your stomach, a flame that only grew in intensity as he kept up with his brutal ministrations. Your cunt clenched pathetically around his cock at his words, causing you to shiver again. “I—I …” You didn’t know what to say, embarrassed and ashamed.

Bo scoffed, voice tapering off into a grunt as he continued to rut forward, cock buried inside of you until he could go no further. “Got you so fucked you can’t even speak,” He sneered, grip tightening on your throat. It was bound to leave some sort of mark, but you knew he didn’t care. “You gonna behave?”

Your head bobbed up and down several times over, voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.” You squeaked, watching with blown-out pupils as he reached for the knife, cutting you loose from the duct-tape. Though, once your hands were free, you were being dragged onto the cold concrete on your stomach.

The steely, sharp bite of the knife sliced through your tank top like butter, leaving you completely exposed to Bo, who remained entirely clothed. Goosebumps coalesced along your spine from the icy temperature of the ground, feeling his hand close into your hair as he fucked you from behind.

His cock battered away at your cunt, stretching you in ways that you never thought possible. It was harsh and intrusive, digits tugging on your hair, wrangling you like you were molded from obsidian. Bo savored the sensation of you rocking back into him, thighs quivering like a leaf.

Your eyes flickered toward the muted brick wall on your left, met with a garish display of polaroids — other girls, girls like you. You had a feeling that none of them had lived to tell the tale.

A pang of dread consumed you, followed by fear — you hoped that you wouldn’t end up on that wall too, immortalized in some sick photograph. Instead, you wanted to increase your chances of survival, moaning and whimpering his name, forehead snug against the concrete.

“You wanna cum?” Bo asked nonchalantly, spoken through labored breathing as his thrusts became quick and sporadic. He was close, cock throbbing inside of you as his other hand clawed bruises and marks into the swell of your hips.

“Yes,” You didn’t hesitate, moaning again when he dug his nails into your flesh, causing you to squirm from discomfort. “Please, Bo! I want you to let me cum!” Desperation was laced within your voice, high-pitched and simpering as he let go of your hip.

“Good girl,” Bo grunted, somewhat perplexed by you. “Finally usin’ your manners.” He reached between your thighs, slathered in your slick and his precum, thumb rubbing circles into your clit. Your back began to arch, pushing back into him as he fucked you like a wild animal, chains clanking against the floor.

Pleasure rippled through you in blistering waves, coupled with the faint sting of pain that radiated from your hip. Bo grunted, breath hot and strenuous as he fucked you senseless, pounding away at your cunt with little regard for your comfort. His thumb toyed with your clit, causing you to writhe and moan.

With another harsh rut of his hips, Bo grunted, pushing his hips forward as he came inside of you, ropes of white-hot seed flooding your cunt. His brow glistened with perspiration as he pulled his cock free, leaving you with the mess of it all, haphazardly smeared between your legs.

Bo, in all his cruelty, tore his hand away from your clit, leaving you a throbbing mess, edged to the brink. You wanted to beg for him to continue, but you were spent, hot flesh soothed by the cold temperature of the floor.

“W—Wait,” Your protests were weak, but still strung-out with desperation. “Aren’t you going to keep going?” There was a little sliver of hope within your voice, but he relented, lips curling into a bemused smirk as he gave your ass a light smack.

“Changed my mind.”

You hated him.

For a moment, you saw red, frustrated without any semblance of relief, but also in misery over your current situation. You didn’t know what to do or say — and the last thing you wanted was for him to become angry with you. You didn’t want to become a permanent fixture on his wall of past trophies.

He stood up, hovering above you as you sheepishly rolled onto your back. Bo’s unsteady, dangerous leer sent shivers down your spine, watching as he stared at you for several moments. “Guessin’ you’ll last longer than the rest have,” He crooned, swiping his tongue across his lower lip. “Go on.”

His head jerked toward the chair, signaling you to climb back in. Your legs quivered in the aftermath of being fucked stupid, and you awkwardly reached for your panties and shorts, but Bo intercepted you. Wordlessly, you sat down in the leather seat, naked and entirely vulnerable.

“Keep you like that for when I come back.” Bo’s Southern purr made you shudder as you trembled, both from fear and from the cold. He couldn’t help but take a little bit of pity on you, tossing you a blanket from the old mattress that sat several feet away from you.

Something about being left entirely alone, naked and used in this basement, made you more terrified than anything else. You didn’t want to be left alone with just your thoughts. Even if Bo had kidnapped you, he was more tolerable than solitude. “You’ll come back?” You asked.

Bo huffed, retrieving his baseball cap. “Maybe,” He could see the hint of fear that had glossed over your eyes. “Maybe I’ll leave you down here an’ let you rot.” His voice was somewhat vitriolic, but undecided — part of you knew that he couldn’t leave you alone after this.

You would take the physicality over being isolated.

Silence drifted between the both of you as your legs shifted, the sound of clanking manacles providing the only bit of ambiance. Bo made for the iron-wrought door, standing in the doorway to give you one last look. Even in your disheveled state, you were beautiful — and now?

You belonged to him.

Before Bo shut the door, his lips twitched into the ghost of a devilish smirk. “Guess I’ll see you soon.”

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #house of wax #house of wax smut #bo sinclair #bo sinclair fanfic #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #house of wax fanfic #house of wax 2005

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demigod-shenanigans · 24 days ago

Text

The choiceless hope in grief

Summary: Leo Valdez has lived and died for the gods. Their war has shaped his life since he was a baby. With Gaia defeated, he sort of hopes he can finally rest. He has friends and some semblance of home to return to for the first time since he was eight years old. Just this once, he allows himself to hope the good things might stick.

But the gods aren’t done with them just yet, by the time Leo finds his way back, Jason is gone.

This time, Leo decides he’s done just taking the Fates’ bullshit lying down. If getting his best friend back means striking a deal with the gods and venturing into the Underworld… well, it’s probably not even the most reckless thing he’s ever done.

The caveat of said deal? He has to trust Jason will follow him, or his self-doubt will doom them both.

And after the life he’s lived, Leo is so intricately familiar with self-doubt that he could probably trademark the word.

Or: The only possible way for Orpheus to succeed is if he learns to think of himself as a person worth loving.

Word Count for chapter 1: ~5k

Rating: Teen and Up

So! *claps hands together* I’ve been threatening you guys with my Orpheus Eurydice valgrace fic for a while! Technically I wanted to wait to post this until I’m completely done writing the fic, and I mostly intend to stick to that! I’m only posting this now because I have a minor surgery tomorrow and I’d rather be anxious about fic related things than about the surgery in question. So, take this chapter as a preview of sorts, more to come soon-ish but probably not immediately!

A couple of important notes before we start:

-TW for suicidal ideation. It’s less Leo actually wanting to die and more his canon behavior of “I’m doing something extremely reckless that might succeed but if it doesn’t, my death is an acceptable consequence”, paired with general grief related self-loathing, but if you think you’re not in the right headspace to read about that, come back when you are or at least tread carefully. This fic pics up at the end of The Burning Maze, so especially the beginning is pretty heavy on the grief stuff.

-Since ToA is vaguely canon to this fic, Leo and Calypso are technically dating in the beginning, but they don’t really interact positively as a couple (honestly they don’t interact that much in general) and break up pretty early on. Just be aware in advance that they’re still together for a little bit.

-Fic title is from Talk by Hozier which is maybe a painfully obvious pick but it was too perfect for me not to use it.

Chapter 1: Leo and Piper have an extended sleepover

It wasn’t a discussion between Leo and Piper whether or not to go to Jason’s funeral. They came to the decision that they wouldn’t silently—or as silently as one could come to an agreement when all parties involved were sobbing.

Maybe it should have been a discussion. There was a part of Leo that worried he’d regret this later—his refusal to take this chance to say goodbye and let himself grieve.

But Leo remembered his mother’s funeral. Remembered the way his aunt Rosa had looked at him like she knew his mother’s death had been his fault. Leo couldn’t stand the thought of people looking at him like that again.

He also didn’t remember his mother’s funeral bringing him any sense of closure or comfort. He’d stood at her grave, afterwards, just as desperate and afraid and utterly inconsolable as he’d been before the funeral, except it had suddenly felt sickeningly final. The wound it had torn in his soul had kept bleeding for years, and the scars would stay forever. He didn’t need any of Apollo’s shitty oracles to know Jason’s death would be exactly the same.

At this point, Leo was pretty sure his sanity was being held together by a combination of jokes and a truly questionable amount of duct tape.

Beyond all that, though, Camp Jupiter was a battlefield right now. It would continue to be a battlefield for the foreseeable future.

Leo wasn’t a coward. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go back and help. But one of his best friends was already in a box, and there was no way in hell he’d risk the other.

With how tightly Piper was clinging to him, maybe she was thinking the same thing.

For all his big talk about dragon escorts, Festus did most of the actual escorting on his own, occasionally torching what Leo hoped were monsters and not random public monuments. Leo, for his part, spent most of the journey crammed into the backseat of the car next to Piper, sandwiched between her and a bunch of moving boxes that seemed determined to flatten him into a Leo-shaped pancake whenever they took a sharp turn.

He’d spent so long thinking about seeing her and Jason again.

He’d talked Calypso’s ear off about them the whole journey, to the point where it had clearly started to annoy her. He’d thought about various ridiculous entrances he could make, and the fact that he’d probably get yelled at, but he’d also thought about sitting together by the campfire, sharing nachos. He’d thought about Jason hugging him so fiercely that he couldn’t breathe, and Piper cussing him out while she held him, making him promise never to do anything that reckless again.

Now Piper was actually holding him, and Leo couldn’t feel anything. There was a numbness in his chest. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to ever feel happiness again. Hell, even if he did, what was the fucking point? Every time anything even remotely good happened in his life, it got ripped away from him again.

They didn’t talk a whole lot for most of the drive. They cried until it felt like they couldn’t anymore, clinging to each other like desperate children.

Even if they’d wanted to talk about what had happened, Piper’s dad was right there, and despite the Mist usually working overtime for them, having him overhear seemed like a gamble. Or, well, maybe that was what Leo told himself. Maybe he just wasn't sure he was ready to hear it all. He still felt like he couldn’t think. He was overwhelmed to hell and couldn’t stop fidgeting.

Several hours into the trip, his stomach started grumbling. Piper dug through the bag at her feet and offered him one of her PB&J sandwiches, but Leo couldn’t eat. He hadn’t skipped a meal in forever—he’d been homeless and unsure when he’d even get access to the next meal enough times that it had been all but tattooed into his skull that he couldn’t afford to—but he couldn’t even think about eating without feeling sick. He thought about Jason. He thought about the state he’d left Camp Jupiter in and the fact that they hadn’t even been able to give the dead their proper funeral rites.

Had Leo’s help made any difference at all? Had anything he’d done in his life changed things even slightly?

Leo knew the Fates had intended for it to be fire that fell—for him to burn in a bright, hot blaze and turn himself to charcoal. But he’d refused to stay dead like a good little pawn, and now Jason was gone, and it was all his fault.

He wasn’t sure how Piper could even look at him right now, but he was beyond grateful that she was holding onto him as tightly as she did. It was the only reason he didn’t fall to pieces completely. The cog at the heart of Leo’s machine had broken in a way that made it utterly beyond repair, and now it felt like a matter of time before the whole thing came apart. Piper holding him was the only reason his remaining pieces were still functioning.

It should have been impossible for Leo to fall asleep under these circumstances, but he’d been traveling for hours and fighting before then and he’d cried out his remaining energy, so eventually, the world started to fade around him, reduced to just the sound of Piper’s breaths, until finally, those went, too.

~~~~

It would have been kinder, maybe, if Leo had dreamed up some shitty visions promising violent death and/or the end of the world. That would have been business as usual.

Instead, he dreamed of his time on the Argo II—of one of those early nights when the different groups were still getting to know each other, having a brief moment to breathe between their ridiculous tasks and saving the world.

It had seemed reasonable to catch each other up on what had happened on their end. Percy, Hazel and Frank had talked about rescuing Thanatos, and Piper, Jason and Leo had told them what had happened with Hera in turn.

This would have been a boring intel conversation at best, seeing as Leo had been there for all of their part, but they’d grabbed snacks and sat on cushions on the floor and made it a whole bonding activity. Jason had been wedged between Piper and Leo, and they’d taken turns storytelling.

And Jason had bragged. So much. But he hadn’t even had the decency to brag about himself like a normal human being. Instead, he’d talked about how capable Piper and Leo had been, somehow managing to make Leo sound like the coolest person he’d ever met. Which was ridiculous, considering he’d met everyone else on their team.

And sure, Leo made it sound like he thought he was amazing all the time, but he was exaggerating, which everyone, himself included, knew.

Jason didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, though. He had one arm wrapped around Leo the whole evening, and he got all starry-eyed when he talked.

“Leo took on three Cyclopes by himself. Three!”

“Dude, stop!” Leo had laughed, shaking his head. “I know I’m incredible and you’re blessed to be friends with me and stuff, but you weren’t even conscious for that part.”

“Still happened, though.” Jason had beamed at him. “You’re amazing, dude. I would have died about fifteen times on that mission if it hadn’t been for you. You guys should’ve seen him.”

It would have been easier if Leo had thought Jason was just trying to talk him up to the others to make them more willing to trust him after how badly he’d messed up in New Rome, but Jason wasn’t the type. He’d looked like he honestly believed every single word he was saying.

So, of course, Leo had refused to seriously deal with any of the things that made him feel.

“Sorry, Pipes, but I’m pretty sure your boyfriend is in love with me. It’s the fire powers, I’m afraid. I’m just too hot to resist,” Leo had joked instead, and Piper had untangled herself from Jason’s other side to throw Doritos at Leo, and everything had been right in the universe.

~~~~

Waking up from that, blearily blinking himself awake in the car full of moving boxes and remembering… that was a worse punch in the gut than waking up from most nightmares had been. And Leo should know. He’d had so many of those over the years that he was basically a certified nightmare expert at this point.

Leo wanted to go back in time and spend forever in that one evening, living it over and over and over again until the Fates or a temporal paradox or something eventually killed him. He wanted to hold on to what they’d been back then—the three of them together and happy and whole,back before they’d realized what the prophecy really meant.

He wanted to stay wrapped in Jason’s arm and hear him laugh at whatever stupid joke Leo came up with while he and Piper threw snacks at each other like ten year olds. He wanted to believe he could actually be the person Jason was bragging about—this invincible hero that could do just about anything and saved people’s lives.

But Leo had never been that hero. Even his sacrifice had been the selfish decision of a coward who wasn’t ready to die just yet. Jason had been their Superman. The guy who could fly and threw lightning and saved people from falling to their deaths. Jason had been the hero. And ultimately, that had been what killed him.

Leo wasn’t exactly sure what he planned to do once they got to Oklahoma. He should have been heading back to the Waystation, to give Calypso the normal life he’d promised. But he wasn’t thinking about Calypso, or the Waystation, and the thought of a normal life had gone out of the window the second he’d seen the coffin. Besides, the Waystation would mean people asking questions, wanting to know about his mission and asking him to talk about his feelings, and he didn’t want that.

The only thing Leo really wanted to do right now was not think.

By the time they got to the house, it was so late that cross-country dragon flight seemed inadvisable for visibility reasons alone, so Leo agreed to stay the night. Festus nuzzled him for a bit, got a fuel snack from the canister Leo had brought and then folded down into his million pound suitcase form for the night.

It took a little under two hours to carry all the boxes inside, which was an annoying amount of time to be carrying boxes but seemed like an absurdly short amount to move the contents of an entire life.

They spent some time in search of the necessities that needed to be unpacked, but the house was still furnished and also had running water and electricity as of a few days ago, so it wasn’t that bad.

While Piper went in search of some ancient camping gear so Leo wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor—this seemed silly to him, the floor was far from the worst place he’d ever slept—Leo asked Piper’s dad if he could help with dinner.

Tristan looked relieved at his offer, actually. He’d been staring at the assorted vegetables with a slightly lost expression, trying to hack at one of the zucchinis with a butter knife. It seemed like he was trying to remember how cooking worked and had just discovered he had absolutely no idea.

Considering how long he’d been an insanely rich guy with a personal cook, Leo guessed that actually might have been a pretty accurate read on the situation.

“You might want to try a sharper knife,” Leo suggested, which made Piper’s dad look absolutely mortified. “Try not to chop off any of your fingers, though. I think Piper’s been traumatized enough for one week.”

The words were out of his mouth before Leo could think to stop them. Tristan didn’t laugh, but at least it didn’t seem like he’d be tossing Leo out of the house over this. Maybe he realized people sometimes said stupid shit when they were grieving. Maybe Piper had just warned him in advance that Leo was like this sometimes.

Tristan just went to find a different knife, which would have maybe been concerning if he hadn’t gone back to hacking at the vegetables a moment later.

“Well, at least this one is actually cutting through the zucchinis. That’s already an improvement.”

“Yeah, I’m basically a cooking expert,” Leo said with a grin, only half-joking. He went to peel and chop up the carrots, and was done with those and about half the mushrooms by the time the poor zucchini had been hacked to bits.

“You and Piper went to school together, right?” Tristan asked after a while of them quietly chopping vegetables for the casserole, trying to make sense of things with information he didn’t have and that, judging from past evidence, probably would have made his skull crack. “You and her and Jason.”

“Yeah. We went to Wilderness school together.” Leo winced, trying not to think too hard of Jason while also trying to remember the lies they’d already told Piper’s dad. At this rate, he was pretty worried his own skull would crack, too. “Then all three of us switched to a different school. Then I was gone for a while.”

Tristan nodded like this made perfect sense, though he mostly seemed lost in thought. That was a little rude, in Leo’s opinion. If he went through all that effort to remember their elaborate setup of lies, the least Piper’s dad could do was appreciate it!

“I’m glad you’re here now, with everything that’s happened. Piper was really upset when you left,” Tristan said, still with that faraway look in his eyes. “The last few months were hard for her. Between the move and the breakup, she really could have used a friend.”

Leo promptly lost all rights to make fun of Piper’s dad and his vegetable chopping skills because at the word ‘breakup’, the knife slipped and he nearly sliced off two of his fingers.

“Fuck! Ow!” he said eloquently, trying to avoid bleeding all over the cutting board in his attempt to get to the sink. “Jason and Piper broke up?”

The question sounded absurd even to his own ears. Why would Jason and Piper break up? They’d been happy together.

Surely, Piper’s dad had to be talking about something else.

To Leo’s shock, Tristan nodded.

“A while ago, yes,” he said, but he didn’t go into details—possibly because Leo was bleeding all over the sink. “We should bandage that. Do you think you need stitches?”

“No, the cuts aren’t that deep,” Leo decided, turning on the faucet and holding his bleeding hand under the stream of cold water. Maybe he should have been more concerned about the injury, but his mind was still whirring at the thought of his best friends breaking up. Unfortunately, the cold water stung like hell. He hissed with pain. “Sorry for making your kitchen look like a crime scene right after moving in. Usually, I at least have the decency to wait a day or two.”

Because the house was a small, cozy place and Leo had not had the decency to curse quietly, Piper appeared in the doorway a moment later, an alarmed expression on her face.

“What happened?”

“I’ve been bested by a stupid potato,” Leo cursed, holding up his bleeding hand and wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He figured out immediately that this was a mistake. “Ow.”

“Stop that, dumbass!” Piper cursed, moving to stand beside him. “Sink was the right call, but you need to use soap or the cuts could get infected. Dad, any chance we have gauze lying around somewhere?”

Tristan didn’t seem to question why his daughter had immediately jumped into emergency medical treatment mode. He just abandoned the cutting board and headed for the front door.

“Not exactly sure what box our regular medical supplies are in, but I’ll get the first aid kit from the car. I’ll be right back.”

“Do we have to do the soap?” Leo whined, because fuck, that stung, but Piper nodded with a scary expression on her face, so he complied. “How do you even know this stuff? Are we sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”

“I know this stuff because I’m friends with a bunch of morons who have zero sense of self-preservation,” Piper cursed, gritting her teeth. “You shouldn’t be around knives when you’re this distracted.”

“I can usually cook just fine when I’m distracted. Your dad was the one who told me you and Jason broke up in the middle of this stupid potato,” Leo said defensively. “Is that the Mist messing with him?”

That was the only explanation his mind had supplied so far that made any sense to him.

Piper shook her head. “We really did break up. That was a few months ago.”

Leo felt his jaw hit the floor.

“What the hell happened? You were together for ages. I thought- you always seemed so happy.”

“I know, but-” Piper broke off abruptly when her dad came back inside with the first aid kit. Demigod stuff, then?

Leo’s mind was racing. The breakup was a completely stupid thing to focus on, considering everything that had happened in the last few days. He knew that.

But it was easier to try and make sense of this than it was to try and make sense of the fact that Jason was gone and he’d never get to see him again.

“Is it alright if we do this somewhere else?” Piper asked her dad, taking the first aid kit from him.

“Of course. It might be easier to patch him up when you’re both sitting down, anyway.” He turned towards Leo. “Thank you for your help, but I think I can take it from here.”

Leo sent a silent prayer to whichever deity was responsible for protecting vegetables—Demeter, probably?—and gave what he hoped was an encouraging thumbs up with his uninjured hand before he followed Piper into the hallway to presumably be reprimanded some more.

~~~~ They ended up sitting on an old bed that looked like it had lived a long, miserable life and was excited for retirement, but the wooden frame thankfully didn’t break down under the weight of the new mattress or the additional weight of them sitting on said mattress. Piper explained that this had been her dad’s room when he’d lived here as a child, and that it would probably become her room now. Then she went very quiet and focused on bandaging his hand, clearly avoiding looking at him.

“It wasn’t because of me, was it?” Leo asked. The thought made him feel ill. “Please tell me it wasn’t something like, I don’t know, you two being unable to stand being around each other after what happened to me. I think I’d actually have to blow myself up again if it was.”

He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it didn’t feel like one at all. The thought that he'd managed to ruin his best friends’ relationship on top of everything else made it hard to breathe.

When Piper shook her head, it felt like a whole boulder was lifted off his shoulders.

“I actually think we would have broken up sooner if you hadn’t gone missing. We leaned on each other a lot after you disappeared. It wasn’t until we realized we wouldn’t find you and things started to settle down a little that I had time to think. And when I did…” Her voice went very quiet, and she still didn’t look up at him. “I realized I wasn’t happy in the relationship. I don’t think I ever was.”

“How did I not know that?” Leo wondered quietly. “I just… you two seemed happy to me. What kind of garbage best friend am I?”

Piper shook her head. “It isn’t your fault. I was telling myself I was happy for a long time. It’s almost- sometimes I wonder if I was charmspeaking myself. That maybe I kept saying I was in love with Jason until I convinced myself I actually was. And with Hera and my mom setting it up… I love-” her voice caught in her throat, and Leo felt like maybe he needed to throw up, “-loved Jason, but not like that.”

“Pipes, I’m really sorry.” Leo squeezed her shoulder. “That sounds like it was super hard for both of you.” Leo felt awful about the fact that he hadn’t even been around to comfort either of them, but it wasn’t like he could fix it now. It was just another item on Leo’s unending list of epic screwups he’d never be able to make up for.

“Jason was… well, he took it exactly like I expected him to. He was surprised, but he didn’t get angry or anything. He mostly seemed okay. Part of me wonders if maybe…” But whatever Piper had been thinking about, she seemed to decide it wasn’t important. “It was hard to get a proper read on him, and as nice as he was about it, things were still super awkward after. I'm terrified he died thinking I didn’t care about him.”

And then she was tearing up again, and Leo thought he would shatter if she cried.

“He knew you cared,” he said as earnestly as he could manage, pulling Piper to his chest again. “You love way too annoyingly for him not to have known. Hell, even I know you love me, and we both know I’m a fucking nightmare when it comes to this stuff.”

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his back like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Oh, I’m about to make you regret saying that,” Leo said, forcing himself to smile. “I’ll bring it up each and every time you say you find something I do annoying.”

“You’re annoying as hell, but you’re still my best friend.” He could feel her tears dripping onto his shoulder, and he knew that would make him start up again too. “I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

And well, passing away from dehydration after crying too much would be a really lame way to die the second time, but everything was just too much right now, so if that was how he went, Leo wasn’t sure anyone could blame him.

~~~~

For the next couple of weeks, Leo stayed.

Helping Piper and her dad unpack was the perfect way to keep himself occupied and not have to think. Usually, a mundane task like this probably would have driven Leo nuts. But right now, it was a bit of a godsend—if not literally, at least figuratively. Being productive was always so much easier when it was done in order to avoid something you wanted to do even less. There was a reason his spaces in the foster homes had only ever been tidy when he had exams coming up.

He helped cook, too, and Piper’s dad became increasingly less garbage at it the longer this went on—like muscle memory was finally kicking in after years of disuse.

It was mostly good—listening to Piper reminisce about trips she’d taken with her dad and where she’d gotten the weird variety of items she kept in her room. When they weren’t unpacking, Leo and Piper played video games or watched movies or explored the area. Twice, during the night, they took Festus on a little flight to a nearby fast food place. Finding a parking spot was a bit of a nightmare, unfortunately. Leo would submit a complaint about their inability to accommodate celestial bronze dragons the first chance he got.

The first time they tried hiking—Leo didn’t even like hiking, he’d spent enough time outside for several lifetimes, why did he do this to himself—they got hopelessly lost in the woods, and of course, due to demigod bullshit, neither of them had brought a phone, so Google Maps wasn’t an option. It was probably for the better. The last thing that situation needed on top of them being lost was a monster attack.

They were already jokingly planning out their new life in the woods when, thankfully, a girl their age came to their rescue.

“A human being! Thank the gods. The squirrels weren’t talking to us,” Leo greeted her, which had Piper shout “Please ignore Leo!” loudly from the branches of the tree she’d been climbing.

The girl lifted her head, spotted Piper and promptly burst out laughing.

“What in the world are you doing up there?”

“Trying to get a better vantage point,” Piper sighed, making her way back down the tree. “We’re hopelessly lost.”

“Well, nice to meet you, hopelessly lost. I’m Shel,” the girl said, still grinning. Leo decided immediately that he liked her.

Piper had almost made it back down when she somehow missed a branch and fell the rest of the way. In comedic movie fashion, Shel moved before Leo had the chance to and caught her mid-tumble. “That was a bit of a dramatic way to get my attention, but you’re cute, so I’ll allow it.”

“Oh yeah, Piper’s got a bit of a thing with falling for people that way,” Leo commented, and Piper gave him her most murderous look while she got back on her feet.

“You guys need help getting back?”

“Please, yes,” Piper said immediately. “It turns out we’re both garbage with maps.”

“Maybe you just need a tour guide next time,” Shel suggested, winking at Piper, whose face turned scarlet. Leo wasn’t even mad about being the third wheel for once. He’d give her so much shit about this later.

And he did. And then Piper properly came out to him—no label or anything, mostly as extremely confused but sure she liked girls, which also made a few additional pieces click into place regarding her breakup with Jason. She ended her anxiety-riddled explanation by thanking Leo for being so normal and annoying about all this.

Which was how Leo realized he’d apparently never told Piper he was bi.

Or maybe he had, and it had gotten lost along with their other memories of Wilderness. Stupid memory-stealing babysitters.

Well, at least they got to hug about it now.

~~~~

It was strange how normal some days felt when nothing would ever truly be normal again. When in every moment Leo and Piper spent together, the gaping hole that had been ripped into their trio was so blatantly obvious.

The benefit and problem of this friendship was that Leo and Piper were both experts at not talking about things they were struggling with.

This wasn’t exactly news. From what little Leo did remember of Wilderness School, they’d spent months not talking about his mom, or about the fact that Piper’s dad kept canceling their weekend plans. They’d both known there were things left unsaid, but as long as they’d been able to cheer each other up, that hadn’t really mattered. It made sense, honestly. Put two people who hadn’t had a shoulder to cry on for ages in a room together and see what happens!

Right now, this meant they were expertly ignoring the box of belongings Piper had picked up from Jason’s school. It had been pushed so far under the bed during that first night that it was no longer visible, and neither of them made any effort to move it out of its new home since. They ignored the topic of Jason, period, until it inevitably hit them in the face again.

It was mostly dumb shit that set them off. Piper automatically reaching for vanilla ice cream at the grocery store because it was Jason’s favorite—seriously, who in their right mind even liked vanilla ice cream?

Sometimes, Leo would make a joke and burst into tears instead of laughing because he knew it would have cracked Jason up. They found old photos unpacking. One time, Piper’s dad suggested they make tacos and they started simultaneously bawling their eyes out.

Leo had spent a long time exactly like this—pretending everything was normal and okay when it wasn’t either of those things until he inevitably broke down. Then he’d started to actually feel sort of okay whenever he was with Jason and Piper. Now, he was sure he would spend the rest of his life pretending.

His appetite was too used to being stuck in survival mode for him to bow to nausea for long, so he went back to eating properly after a few days. He still cried himself to sleep most nights. He kept dreaming about Jason. The memories wrapped themselves around him like a safety blanket that he knew would get ripped away again in the morning. He always woke up feeling empty. Sometimes, he wished he could just go to sleep and never wake up again.

But other than that, it was mostly good.

Then demigod communications went back up, and everything went to hell.

———

Chapter notes:

Fun fact! I originally planned for this chapter (as well as the next few chapters) to just be backstory in my head and for me to maybe do a flashback or two. Unfortunately for me, Piper McLean waltzed into the room and refused to leave.

I do actually think the fic works better this way, but it will take a second to get to the plot! Hopefully you’ll enjoy the whole journey :)

I may not be able to have Leo and Piper go to Jason’s funeral without seriously messing with the plot of Tyrant’s Tomb, but I could at least pick the most evil reason possible for them not to go!

Side note: I sort of forgot that Hedge and Mellie were supposed to be here according to TBM, but by the time I remembered I already had this chapter written out and, as someone who cannot be bothered to figure out how to write them, I decided to just leave it. ToA is vaguely canon to this universe, but only for the most part. Some details are inaccurate, and I think that’s okay.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs super, super appreciated as always!!

List of people that at some point asked to be tagged when I post this: @poppitron360 @ginnyluna @keefessketchbook (feel free to comment if you want to get taken off or be put on the tag list for future chapters!)

81 notes · View notes

daisynik7 · 2 years ago

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Strawberry Soju

🎶 I don’t need another shot of you, but I got to, my strawberry soju 🎶

Pairing: Eren x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre: college au, enemies-to-lovers

Word Count: ~7.0k

cw: asshole!Eren, fratboy!Eren, subby!Eren, blowjob, cunnilingus, face riding, multiple orgasms, cowgirl, unprotected sex, alcohol, language.

Summary: Two weeks before graduation, you are finally done with your senior project. This calls for a celebration with your team, including the person who annoys you the most: Eren Jaeger. The two of you learn to put your differences aside for one night, starting with a bottle of strawberry soju.

Notes: All characters are seniors in college (21-22 years old), engineering majors. Eren is a frat boy, so some details from my series Rush will be used, but no correlation to that story. Inspired by the song “Strawberry Soju”, which I’ve been obsessed with for the past two weeks. I had a lot of fun with this, so I hope you enjoy! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated, thank you so much!

“And now, we are proud to present the winner of this year’s Senior Project Showcase: Team Titan! For their omni-directional mobility gear, designed for construction workers in the field to ensure safety whilst elevated hundreds of feet in the air! Bravo, Team Titan! Bravo!”

Professor Pyxis’s announcement leaves you and your group flabbergasted. Sasha and Connie both have their jaws dropped. Eren, who sits beside you, throws his fist in the air, exclaiming, “Oh hell yeah!” You stay in your seat, in total shock.

Pyxis stares fondly at the four of you, beckoning you towards the stage in the main engineering lecture hall. “Don’t be shy, my young engineers, come here to accept your award!” Hesitantly, you all make your way behind the podium, a polite round of applause from the other students and faculty echoing throughout the room.

Nearly an entire semester of work has led to this. Five months of grueling research, scrambling to acquire the right materials, complicated design issues that made you want to scream. Not to mention five months spent collaborating with the bane of your existence: Eren Jaeger. The award for first place barely makes up for a semester’s worth of torture; nonetheless, it’s still a pretty trophy.

It was fate that brought the four of you together back in January, the same fate that has spited you for whatever reason, forcing you to work alongside Eren, the most obnoxious, cocky, annoying person you have ever met in your short twenty-two years of living. While you had no issues with Connie or Sasha, you and Eren did not mesh. It’s been apparent since the beginning of the semester when you were chosen to be the team leader. He scoffed, claimed that he “would be a better choice, but whatever.” Your relationship with him was doomed from that day on.

What’s odd is that he isn’t an asshole to the entire group; his less than pleasant behavior seems to be reserved for you, and only you. He gets on perfectly fine with Sasha and Connie, who have basically played mediator for you two, keeping as much of the peace as possible whenever an argument ensues. He usually instigates it, always making an unnecessary comment to get under your skin. At this point, you’re convinced he’s doing it on purpose just to get a rise out of you, because how can one human be this irritating?!

Despite all the petty drama, you have to admit that he’s smart. Not only that, but he also works hard and gets shit done, no matter how much grief he gives you about it. And, if you squint hard enough, he maybe is, almost, sort of…hot. Strictly speaking from an objective standpoint, that is. Based on media-driven beauty standards and common qualities that are considered conventionally attractive by society. Of course, you will never, ever admit this aloud, especially not to him. You’re convinced that if he ever finds out, his massive head will explode, already overinflated from his gigantic ego.

Your team crowds Pyxis, who happily hands you the trophy first. Eren, no surprise, snatches it from your clutches to hold it himself, kissing it and lifting it above him like he won a major league championship. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, trying to maintain professionalism in front of the watching staff.

“Will your team leader give a few words about the project?” Pyxis asks, gaze on you, motioning to the stand.

You tense up, usually nervous about public speaking. Clearing your throat, you lean into the mic. “Uh, thank you Professor Pyxis and the rest of the faculty for selecting our project. This has been a labor of love for the past five months and we are honored to have it recognized. We hope that this prototype and any of the research associated with it will help improve labor conditions for those working in construction, risking their lives every day.”

You glance at Connie and Sasha to see if they’d like to add anything else. Connie adds, “Special shoutout to grad students Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, and Hange Zoe for helping us out a ton with our project, from offering advice to testing it out. We love you!”

“And thank you Paradise Pizzeria and Café Utopia for fueling many late nighters throughout this whole semester! You rock!” Sasha exclaims, resulting in laughter from the audience.

Eren grabs the mic from the stand, yelling, “This is dedicated to my fraternity brothers, for providing moral support during these trying times! Alpha Tau for life!” He holds the trophy in one hand, using the other to salute an inverted fist at his chest, sticking his tongue out.

This time, you don’t contain your eye roll as the crowd laughs even louder, clearly amused by it. He passes the microphone back to Pyxis. “Fantastic! I love the enthusiasm of this team. Let’s give them all another big round of applause!”

After the presentation is over, Pyxis instructs, “They’d like to take your picture next to the ODM gear. The photographers are taking some shots of the other projects, so feel free to take your time heading to the Rose Center.”

On the walk, Eren passes the trophy to Sasha. “What to hold it, Sash?”

“Sure! Still can’t believe we won!”

Connie puts his arm around her, staring at the prize. “I know it doesn’t really mean anything, but damn, is it nice to look at.”

Eren catches up to you, nudging you in the arm. “Would it have killed you to smile during your little speech?”

You shove your elbow into his ribs, a little harder than necessary. “I was smiling.”

“You call that a smile? You looked like you were in a hostage situation. Like, blink three times if they’re hurting you type of deal,” he teases, that cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“Like you were any better!” You stick your tongue out, mocking him. “Alpha Tau for life, bros!”

“I really meant it. I needed all the fucking help I could get, dealing with you this whole semester. If it weren’t for them, I would have gone fucking crazy because of you.”

“Oh right, because I’m the one driving you crazy, sure,” you respond, sarcastically.

“Hey, at least you’re admitting it! You’re finally making progress!” He claps in front of your face.

You shove him, glaring. “You are such a jerk.”

“Don’t be so sensitive, baby.”

“Oh, I am not your baby.”

Sasha jumps in between, yelling, “Enough! Both of you, stop it!!”

Connie joins in. “Yeah, we won today. Stop ruining the mood.”

Without you realizing it, the four of you have made it to the Rose Center, which is luckily vacant in the midst of your little spat with Eren. This is how your arguments usually go, all because of something petty that never leads anywhere. When the photographer arrives, they direct you to stand beside your project, already displayed in one of the glass windows. They take a couple of shots, then it’s over. Just like that, your senior project is officially done. There’s a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. All that’s left to do is to graduate.

The sun is setting by the time the photoshoot is finished. The four of you exit the building, Sasha immediately announcing, “I’m hungry! Let’s get dinner one last time as a team!”

“I’m down for that. Any ideas where to go?”

“Paradise Pizza?”

“No, we’ve had that way too many times this year. Let’s go somewhere special tonight.”

“There’s that all-you-can-eat Korean barbecue place downtown,” you suggest. “It’s only fifteen minutes away if we take the train.”

“Ooohh, I like the sound of that!”

“I’m down. Eren?”

He shrugs, hands in his pockets. That too-cool-to-care attitude apparent in his body language. “If that’s what everyone else wants, then I guess it’s fine.” If it had been either Sasha or Connie to suggest it, you know for a fact that he would have a more positive response. Because it’s you, he has to act like he’s being forced into it, reluctant to concede with absolutely everything you propose.

You go your separate ways to change out of professional attire and into more comfortable clothes, agreeing to meet outside Eren’s in an hour. His apartment is closest to the train station, making it the most convenient. By 7:00PM, you’re inside the restaurant, seated at a table, grill fired up as you browse through the menu. Sasha, the ultimate foodie of the group, orders the first round of meats. You pick the drinks.

“Two bottles of strawberry soju, please!” you tell the waiter.

“Oh, I love soju!” Sasha squeals.

You smile at her. “Me too. This flavor’s my favorite.”

Eren, who is somehow seated next to you, grunts. “Strawberry? Of course you’d pick some girly shit like that.”

“Hey man, don’t knock it till you try it,” Connie says. “This shit gets you fucked up fast. Trust me. I’ve gotten soju drunk before, and it’s awesome.”

He rolls his eyes in response. “Yeah, that’s because of all the extra fucking sugar, I bet. Sounds gross.”

The waiter arrives with the alcohol and four glasses, along with waters to share. You do the honors and pour everyone, except Eren, a shot. “I’m guessing you don’t want any of this gross soju, then?”

He snatches the shot glass, thrusting it towards you. “I didn’t say that. Just pour me some.”

With glasses filled to the brim, you all cheers, then throw it back. The familiar flavor is refreshing and sweet on your tongue, smooth down your throat.

“Shit, that’s good!” Connie raves.

“Strawberry might be my new favorite flavor! It’s so yummy!”

You face Eren, grinning. “Well?”

He shrugs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s alright.”

“Don’t lie to me. You like it, don’t you?” you tease, nudging him in the arm.

“I said it’s fine, okay?”

You stop pestering him, satisfied knowing that maybe you were finally right about something when it comes to him.

Soon, a plethora of tasty side dishes are scattered on the table. Rice, kimchi, fresh lettuce, potato salad, two helpings of steamed eggs to share. Three heaping plates of meat follow. Sasha begins barbequing, laying out portions of beef bulgogi on the hot grill as the rest of you watch hungrily, the steam and aroma surrounding you like a cozy embrace. Once it’s cooked, you help yourselves, stuffing your faces with perfectly grilled meat and whatever else you desire. Several bites in, you all decide to do another round of shots, first bottle almost finished.

“Good idea to do KBBQ tonight!” Sasha mentions. “I haven’t had it in a while. I forgot how much I love it.”

Connie chimes in, “Same! Which side dish is everyone’s favorite?”

Sasha immediately points to the potato salad. “Is there any doubt that mine would be this?”

“Of course we all know that potato girl. I like kimchi. What’s yours?”

You pick out your favorite. “This one, for sure.”

Eren makes an unapproving noise. “Of course you’d pick that. So basic.”

To keep the peace, especially on this night of celebration, you ignore the temptation to reply with an equally sassy comment. Instead, you ask, “Well, what’s your favorite, Eren?”

“The steamed egg. It’s delicious and packs an extra serving of protein.” He flexes his bicep with a smug expression. “Not that I really need it.”

Connie and Sasha laugh, while you take a deep breath, using every ounce of willpower to keep your cool. You crack open the bottle, downing the remaining alcohol to help you get through the rest of the night.

“What’s everyone’s plans after graduation?” Connie asks.

Sasha answers first. “I’ll be working with my dad for our family business.”

“I’m sure Artur will appreciate all the new, high-tech engineering skills you have! If I’m still unemployed in two months, can you please hire me?”

“Of course!”

“What about you, Eren?”

“I got an offer in Marley,” he reveals. “It’s a pretty good gig, but I don’t know about moving overseas. I got another in Stohess to work for their weapons warehouse, so maybe I’ll accept that instead.”

“I’ve never been overseas,” you comment. “Sounds interesting if you do decide to go.”

“Well, you’re wrong. It doesn’t sound interesting at all.”

Even your attempt at being polite is met with malice. “You always argue with me for the sake of arguing.”

He turns to face you, brows furrowed. “No I don’t!”

“You’re literally doing it right now! I was just trying to be nice.”

“Well, try harder,” he grumbles, picking meat off the grill.

“My god, you two are exhausting!” Sasha intervenes.

Connie nods. “Seriously, don’t you get tired of fighting all the time?”

“Honestly, you two should do it and get it over with.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Eren leers at Sasha through the smoke.

“I’m saying get all your anger out by fucking each other. Hate sex is the best medicine for situations like this,” she explains, matter of fact.

“No fucking way,” Eren says. “It’s not like that.”

“Definitely not,” you reiterate, cheeks warm. You pour yourself another shot, already on the second bottle, not offering a serving to anyone else. Desperate for liquor with the direction this conversation is going.

“Wow, you two actually agree on something for once!” Connie teases. “See? Isn’t this nice?”

The duo giggle together, finding enjoyment from your current state of misery. Eren clears his throat, muttering something unintelligible. He reaches for the soju in front of you, avoiding your gaze as he tips it into his empty shot glass, instantly downing it. Before the silence gets awkward, you change the subject, mentioning some idle gossip you heard around the engineering department, to which Connie and Sasha have plenty to contribute to.

An hour later, the four of you manage to finish most of the food, only a few pieces of charred meat left over. Sasha and Connie rub their stomachs, satisfied by the feast. You and Eren end up finishing the last bottle between the two of you. Since the comment from earlier, neither of you have spoken directly, avoiding each other.

Connie slumps into the chair, patting his belly. “Let’s play a game while we digest! Truth or eat. If you don’t answer, you have to eat these burnt pieces of bulgogi.”

Eren laughs. “That sounds fun. I’m down.” He looks to you, brow raised, challenging. “You in, princess?”

You bite your cheek, holding in the clever retort at his annoying nickname for you, also relieved he’s back to normal. “Sure, why not?”

“I’ll go first,” Sasha volunteers, sitting up in her seat. “Eren, who’s the freakiest brother in Alpha Tau?”

Without hesitating, he states, “Armin, for sure.”

“Armin?! Really?”

“Yup. He’s one kinky motherfucker,” he grins. He turns to face you. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“You want the whole essay, or an abridged version?” you reply, smirking as you sip on your water.

Sasha giggles while Connie mutters under his breath, “Oh boy.”

Eren doesn’t let up. “Give me one reason.”

Contemplating which of the many grievances you should expose about him, you finally decide on one. “You always disagree with me, no matter what. Whether it’s something about the project, or something as simple as a side dish preference.”

“We already know that, though. What else?”

“Hey, you wanted one reason, and I gave it to you.” You think for a few seconds, adding, “And to be fair, hate is a strong word. I don’t hate you.”

It’s true. While he annoys you beyond your wit’s end, you don’t hate him. He’s a quarter of the reason you all achieved what you did. You focus back on the table, avoiding Eren’s expression. “Connie, have you two ever hooked up?” you question, pointing at the duo.

“Gross! No!”

“Absolutely not. We’re practically twins. That’d be illegal.”

“Yup. We’re basically two halves of a whole idiot.”

You laugh with them, taking another sip of water as Connie poses a question to Eren. “Why do you give her such a hard time?” he asks, referring to you.

“Here we go,” you mumble, ready for an onslaught of ridiculous reasons.

It’s silent for a few moments, then he takes his chopsticks, grabbing at the charred meat on the grill, placing it into his mouth to eat quietly.

“What?!” Sasha yells. “You’re not going to tell us?”

Connie smirks. “Must be pretty bad, then.”

You watch him slowly chew the burnt food, a small smile on his face. As if there’s a secret he’s keeping from everybody else at the table. Why would he refuse to answer the question that he basically asked you? Is his hatred for you that intense that he chooses not to say it, to save you from humiliation? What could you have possibly done to him to warrant this kind of treatment? Maybe it’s the liquor leading you to jump to conclusions, to be slightly offended by his choice. Maybe even a little hurt.

When he’s done, he chugs his whole water. “Alright, my turn again.”

“Wait, really?”

“We’re just going to pretend that didn’t happen?”

“Yup,” he responds, nonchalant.

“Why?”

“Hey, I ate that shit, right? Let it go,” he states, more aggressively this time.

You remain silent, mind racing with all types of ideas. You pay no more attention to the game, contemplating all the possible reasons Eren Jaeger would hate you so much. To be fair, he’s the one who starts it first. All you do is defend yourself. Why would he have any bigger reason to dislike you more than you dislike him?

Connie yells out your name, breaking you out of your reverie. “Hey, are you in?”

“Huh?”

“Karaoke! There’s a bar down the street.”

After paying the check, split evenly, the four of you head to the karaoke bar, booking a private room for an hour. You all sing your hearts out while sobering up from whatever buzz you developed from the soju. Any strange concerns you had about Eren evaporate. The two of you even seem to get along, performing a few duets together.

On the train ride back near campus, the four of you share more laughs, enjoying possibly the last time you’ll be together. With everyone graduating and off to their own paths, it’s hard to tell when, or if, you’ll ever see each other again.

From the station, you start you trek home, pausing outside Eren’s apartment to chat a bit more, until Sasha says, “I guess this is goodbye!”

“Yeah, thanks for all your hard work. This was really fun,” Connie adds, smiling.

“We should all try to keep in touch.”

Eren hugs Connie, then Sasha. The two of you look at each other, contemplating if you should embrace also. Suddenly, you blurt out, “Actually, can I use your bathroom? I have to pee.”

You really do have to pee, but surely, you could have made it the extra ten minutes to your own apartment to do so, right? For some reason, your mind convinces you to stay with him just a little longer. There’s a pending task you have to complete before you part ways for good. You hope for closure, to end things on a good note.

You, Connie, and Sasha exchange hugs, leaving with a final wave, disappearing into the distance. Despite the pleasant warmth of the summer night, there’s a noticeable chill in the air. Not from the weather, rather, from the growing tension surrounding you and Eren. His voice is quiet when he says, “Alright, I guess we can head in now.”

You nod, following him through the entrance. At the elevator, he swipes a keycard, pushing the button to go up to the third floor. The doors open and you step in, still not speaking a word. Arriving at his door, he unlocks it, holding it for you.

“Bathroom is down to the right,” he points, removing his shoes at the entrance.

You copy him, sliding out of your sneakers. “Okay cool. Thank you.”

Once you find the bathroom, you swiftly close the door, fully aware that you are inside Eren Jaeger’s apartment. Naturally, curiosity gets the best of you. With a quick glance around the room, you can tell he’s tidy. Towels hung properly, actual floor mats on the tiles, toilet seat down. Is he anticipating a visit from a friend? Maybe a lover? You can’t help letting your imagination run wild.

Finished with your business, you walk out of the bathroom to find him sitting on the couch, television playing a show you’re familiar with. “Have you seen this episode yet? The new season just started,” you mention, stepping towards him.

He stands up, turning to face you. “I haven’t. Was planning to watch it tonight.”

“Cool,” is all you manage to utter.

There’s another moment of awkward silence until he asks, “You want to watch it with me?”

Without thinking, you agree.

The two of you sit on opposite ends of the couch, watching in silence. About halfway through, with a soft chuckle, he admits, “That strawberry soju wasn’t bad. Actually, it was pretty good.”

This catches you off guard. You look at him, grinning. “Wow. It took you this long to finally come clean about it.”

“Better late than never, right?” He keeps his eyes forward, smirking.

You adjust, completely facing him. “Since you’re being honest about that, can you tell me why you didn’t answer Connie’s question?”

He plays dumb. “What question?”

“Why do you give me such a hard time?”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You’re still thinking about that?”

“Yeah, I am,” you confess. “Seems a little odd to me that wouldn’t just say it.”

Finally, he matches you, repositioning himself to set his gaze on yours. “Why do you care so much?”

“I’m curious. Since we’ll be graduating soon, we’ll probably never see each other again. I figured we should put everything out there. Get some closure. Make amends.”

He scoffs. “I wasn’t aware there were any amends to make.”

You’re getting annoyed now, impatient with his round-about comments. “Seriously? You think our relationship is normal?”

“I don’t think we have a relationship at all.”

You stand up, regretting being here in the first place. He’s the same asshole he’s always been. What we’re you expecting? Why would he be any different tonight?

“Fine. Forget it. What a waste of time. Good job on the project, and I hope you have a great life.” You stomp towards the exit, not bothering to look at him.

Suddenly, his hand shoots out, gripping you loosely around the wrist. “Wait. Don’t go.”

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in frustration, skin tingly from the physical contact. Waiting for him to elaborate.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he stammers. “I’m not…I can’t really…” he trails off, not finishing his sentences.

When he doesn’t proceed, you ask, “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Then why do you treat me this way? Why me?”

He swallows hard, the truth difficult for him to spit out. “It’s dumb.”

“I don’t care. Just tell me.”

He lets out a sigh, averting his gaze to the floor. “It’s because I like you, okay?”

It takes a moment for you to process what he’s saying. Eventually, you stammer, “You like me?”

“Yeah, I like you,” he reiterates, still staring at his own feet. “You’re cute. You’re the smartest person I know. And you’re also a fucking pain in my ass. But I like you.”

That last part would normally have you on the verge of swinging; however, it’s almost endearing the way he says it. Your sudden change in heart has you questioning if you’re drunk from the liquor you consumed hours ago. “Why would you treat me like this if you like me?”

Another deep sigh as he explains, “I don’t know. Because I’m a fucking idiot and I’m immature. I told you, it’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb. I just…I didn’t expect this.”

More silence falls between you two. You look down at his big hand still holding you, racing heartbeat reverberating through your chest. You’re not sure how to react. So, you go with your instinct.

You kiss him.

~~~

Eren doesn’t know why he started it months ago at the beginning of the semester. If he’s being completely honest, he’s got the body of Greek god, the intelligence of a genius, and the maturity, or in this case, immaturity, of a fifth grader. That being said, whatever it is that he has going with her, he’s decided to classify it as a schoolboy crush. Like a kid on the playground picking on another kid, doing everything they can to garner all their attention, no matter how annoying it is.

It began with snide remarks here and there, nothing ever too cruel to be considered bullying, but enough to make her bite back. He’s not sure why he kept it up so long, especially after realizing he actually likes her. In his mind, negative attention is better than no attention at all. He can’t be normal around her; being a nuisance is what he’s comfortable with.

Another reason is that he’s intimidated by her. She could see right through his cocky demeanor. Break him down into the vulnerable little shit he really is. The grief he caused her is some bizarre defense mechanism, a way to deny his true feelings for her. All to protect himself and his heart.

He was supposed to go to a frat party tonight after hanging out with the team. Instead, he finds himself alone with her in his apartment, everything revealed, his confession hanging heavy in the air.

Even more unexpected is her leaning forward to kiss him, lips soft and gentle against his. Hesitant and uncertain. Sweet and tangy from the lingering essence of the strawberry soju from earlier. Before he gets carried away, he pulls off, whispering, “Are you sure about this?”

“No,” she admits. “But I can’t deny that I’m curious.”

“We shouldn’t do this then. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Just…shut up and let me check something.”

He obeys, closing his eyes, waiting for her move. She kisses him again, more confidentially this time, hand sliding to his nape to pull him closer.

“Fuck, are you sure this is okay?” he breathes out, slowly losing his composure.

She nods, smiling. “Yes.”

“You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely certain?”

“If you ask me one more time, you’re really going to piss me off,” she warns, grazing her mouth along his neck, sucking at the skin of his throat.

He nods erratically. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Fuck.”

She pushes him back towards the couch, falling into the cushions. He watches in awe as she strips her sweatpants, revealing pink lacey panties. She sits in his lap, legs spread wide with him between, clothed pussy against his pulsating cock. His hands are to his sides, clenched to the cushion of the couch. With her lips brushing his ear, she whispers, “You can touch me if you want.”

His cock twitches, erection growing by the second as she straddles him. Carefully, he slides his palms around her waist, moaning a trembling, “Thank you.” Hands at her bottom, he squeezes her ass cheeks in a firm grasp, fingers slipping underneath the fabric, dangerously close to her arousal.

Without thinking, he blurts out, “Use me. Do what you want with me. You’re the leader.”

There’s a wicked smile on her face as soon as he says it. “Eren Jaeger is going to let me use him?”

All pride is thrown out the window. He doesn’t care anymore about giving into weakness. With graduation only two weeks away, and no promise of ever seeing each other again, he decides fuck it. He’s going to do whatever he can to fulfill this fantasy of his. And if that means submitting to her, begging and groveling at her feet, he’ll fucking do it.

“Yeah,” he growls. “Use me as your fuck toy. I’ll do whatever you want. Just fucking use me.”

“Didn’t think Alpha Tau’s frat star would behave like this,” she murmurs, sucking on his ear lobe.

“Does it turn you on?”

“Maybe.”

“Good. Fucking wreck me apart then. Don’t hold back,” he demands. There’s already precum leaking from his tip, soaking through the cotton of his briefs. “Consider it payback for this semester.”

She responds by grinding her hips on his lap. He’s desperate to feel her without fabric separating them, but he knows what he agreed to. He can’t do anything without her permission, without her initiating. She rides him for another minute, his palms on her ass, following her motions. His cock throbs beneath her, aching for release from the confines of his pants. There’s an audible whine developing in his throat, needy for anything.

On cue, she swings her leg over to kneel beside him, tugging at the waistband of his sweats and underwear. He lifts his hips as she slides them off simultaneously, freeing his stiff cock. He watches her marvel at his erection, noticing desire in her eyes. Before he knows it, she’s bent towards his lap, mouth hovering his dick, licking at the slit.

“Fuck,” he moans. “Goddamn.”

She continues to tease him, leaving the shaft untouched, tongue swirling the tip, lapping at his precum.

“Fuck, please. Touch me,” he begs, legs quivering from arousal.

Without warning, she wraps her fist around him, surrounding the tip with her mouth, bobbing up and down in sync with her strokes. She starts slow, increasing the pace with each guttural moan that emits within his chest. The temptation to buck his hips into her warm, wet heat is tantalizing, but he reminds himself that she’s in control, which only turns him on more.

She uses her other hand to fondle his balls, causing him to swear loudly. “Fuck!”

He feels the vibration of her giggle through his cock, clearly enjoying the way she’s unravelling him, his orgasm approaching fast. “Can I please come?”

She shakes her head, still working his dick.

“Fuck. I can’t…I can’t hold it.”

She releases him from her mouth, stroking him, face close to his. “You think you deserve to come now?”

He nods eagerly. “Yes.”

“Apologize first.”

“Huh?”

“Apologize. Admit that you’re a fucking asshole.” She nibbles on his ear lobe, dragging it down between her lips, still jerking him off.

“I’m sorry. I’m a,” he chokes on his spit before he can finish. “Fucking asshole.”

“Tell me your desperate for it. That you need it.”

“Fuck, I’m so fucking desperate, I fucking need it. Please.”

“Good,” she whispers, pumping him faster. She kisses him on the lips, grip tight around him as his cock swells, hanging by a thread at the edge of his climax. “Go ahead. Come for me, Eren.”

At the sound of his name on her sultry lips, he does, hot cum shooting straight onto his t-shirt. “Fuck!” he yells, eyes shut tight, riding out one of the best orgasms of his life. She strokes him until his balls are completely drained. Finally, he opens his eyes to inspect the scene, shocked by the mess painted across the bottom of his shirt, spilling onto his abdomen.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, smiling at her.

She grins back at him. “Not bad, right?”

“Not bad at all. Really fucking good, actually.” He kisses her, fingers drifting down to her arousal, rubbing the fabric against her clit. “Come here. Let me eat this pretty pussy out. Please. I want it so bad.”

“Since you said it so nicely, I guess I can let you have a taste.”

~~~

You stand up, leaving room for him to lay down on the couch. He doesn’t need to be told. He expects you to ride that pretty face of his. When he’s flat on his back, shirt stripped off and completely naked, he turns to watch you slip out of your panties.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he praises, reaching down to rub his balls. “I think about this a lot, you know.”

You toss your underwear to the floor, watching him play with himself, removing your remaining clothes. “What do you think about?”

“This. You, naked in my apartment. Riding my face till you come. Fucking your wet pussy right after.”

“I guess tonight’s your lucky night,” you tease, lifting your knee across him, straddling his face.

“Yes, it is,” he replies, licking his lips, eyes wide with lust at your pussy above him, already wet with arousal. He cranes his neck upwards, tongue out, desperate for a taste.

“Not yet.” You lift up enough so he’s out of reach. “Watch me play with myself first.”

“Fuck,” he swears, salivating.

You wet your middle finger with your slick, rubbing circles around your clit. He watches in a daze, biting his lower lip, brows knit together in concentration, focused on you pleasuring yourself right above him. He squirms beneath you, thrusting his hips into the air, in an effort to feel anything. “Get it fucking juicy for me, baby. I want to fucking drown in it.”

The little nicknames you’ve grown accustomed to hating has a very different ring to it now. For the first time all semester, you don’t mind it. You actually like it. With your free hand, you run your fingers through his hair, redirecting his gaze on yours. “That’s right. I’m your baby. And what are you?”

He swallows hard. “I…I don’t know.”

“You’re my fuck toy.”

“Fuck yeah. I’m your fuck toy, baby. I’m your fuck toy. Use me, please.”

With your grip firm on his hair, you sink lower, your pussy pressed to his open mouth. He licks your clit, swiping his wide tongue over it, moving side to side. You moan at the glorious sensation, rocking your hips across his face to feel more. He latches onto your swollen bud, humming in pleasure as he suckles on it. His hips rut into nothing again, arms at his sides, clutching hard at the cushions, letting you be in total control. This power he gives you turns you on more than you imagined. Maybe because all semester, he always acted as if he had the upper hand. Knowing how desperate he is to be beneath you, to please you beyond any other desire he has, it only spurs you on.

You grind yourself on his face, the squelching noises indicating how sloppy he’s eating you out and how wet you’re becoming because of it. He’s relentless, alternating between licking, slurping, and sucking at your clit. You blissfully indulge in it until you climax on his tongue, bud over-stimulated, pussy soaked with his spit and your slick.

“Fuck,” he muffles, slurping the cum from your sleek entrance. Legs wobbly from your orgasm, you lift off him, shifting to reposition yourself comfortably on top. His cock is hard beneath you, sticky with his cum from earlier. Through shiny lips, he whines, “I’m so fucking hard again. Fuck me. Fuck me with that wet pussy.”

Reaching behind you, you align him with your slit, sinking down on his shaft. He lets out a gasp, “I’m so fucking sensitive, fuck.” Concerned, you attempt to lift off, but he shakes his head fervently. “Don’t. Please baby. Fuck me till I come. I need it. I need it.”

You ride him, bouncing your ass on his lap, thrusting his cock deep inside you. He moans loudly, babbling filthy words from his needy mouth.

Use this cock, baby. Fuck me like a toy.

Make yourself come on this dick.

It’s all fucking yours. Take it, baby. Take it.

I’m all yours. I’m all yours.

You moan with him, another climax approaching. Grabbing his wrist, you guide him to your clit. He caresses your puffy bud with his fingers. “I’m going to come,” you whimper.

“Can I come with you, princess? Please, can I come inside you?”

You nod wordlessly, pumping him in and out of you faster as he rubs your clit relentlessly, determined to make you orgasm. When you cry out in ecstasy, he joins you. “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming, baby.”

For the second time tonight, both of you come, this time together. He spills inside you, filling your cunt with his warm, creamy load as you coat his dick with yours. Your body is spent from the euphoria, throat dry from whining in pleasure, and your curiosity satiated. It’s a lie to say you’ve never imagined being fucked silly by Eren. No matter how much he annoyed you, irritated you, aggravated you, there were moments this semester when you thought about it. How good it would feel to ride him, fuck him dumb until he’s begging for release.

“I’m exhausted,” he giggles, limp on the couch, softening cock still inside you, wrapping you in a snug embrace.

“Me too.” You settle into his arms, relaxed and comfortable against his chest.

“Thank you,” he mutters, caressing your back tenderly. “Thank you.” He doesn’t elaborate, repeating it a few more times as he nuzzles his nose into the top of your head.

You cuddle together in a comfortable silence. “Sleep here tonight. I have an extra toothbrush and you can wear my clothes.”

Accepting his offer, the two of you start tidying, picking up strewn wardrobe from the floor, wiping away the sticky aftermath of sex. You hop in the shower, rinsing your bodies clean, exchanging passionate kisses while the water splashes you. After you dry off and brush your teeth, you change into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers he lends you, jumping into the bed beside him. He smiles at you. “You look good in my clothes.”

You give him a smooch, getting yourself cozy under the covers. He spoons you, arm sliding over your waist, interlacing his fingers with yours. His breath is pleasantly warm on your neck. “I know we’re probably past this already, but I want to formally apologize. It wasn’t right the way I treated you, and I’m sorry. Genuinely.”

“Apology accepted,” you respond, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry too. For saying anything that hurt you out of anger.”

“You don’t have to be. I deserved it.”

“Still, I’m sorry. And no one deserves that.”

“All is forgiven then.” He chuckles softly. “For two smart people, we sure are dumb.”

You laugh with him. “If only we were a tad bit smarter, we could have started this months ago.”

“Yeah," he says, nestling his face against your neck. "You’re right.”

Nothing else is said as the two of you drift into sleep. It’s nice, having closure on a previously volatile relationship. However, something else lingers after tonight. Another door opens, leading to the unknown. He confessed his true feelings for you. You didn’t have time to process it, too focused on settling your truce through sex. While there’s no doubt that you find him physically attractive, can you really move on from the past and give him a chance?

~~~

The words are on the tip of his tongue, and he decides to keep it that way, not wanting to disrupt this moment of peace. Not wanting to complicate it any further. He knows that this is the beginning and the end of whatever this fling is. She hasn’t reciprocated his feelings and he won’t pressure her to, not tonight. Maybe not ever. No matter how badly he wishes to see her again, keep in touch, make it official, he won’t ask that of her. At the end of the day, it’s his own fault for waiting too long, for being too late. Time has run out, and now he’s paying the price.

They stay in each other’s arms, Eren listening closely to the sound of her steady breathing. Cherishing how her fingers fit seamlessly in his, the small smile on her lips as she drifts into a tranquil slumber, the warmth and weight of her body against his.

The next morning, he wakes up, alone. If not for the stack of clothes he let her borrow folded neatly at the end of the bed, he would have thought last night’s events were all a dream. He vaguely recalls her waking up beside him, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead, sneaking out on her tippy toes at the crack of dawn. Still, he searches the apartment, calling out her name to no response.

Throughout the week, he’s constantly on the verge of texting her. He never goes through with it, though, scared to be rejected. Afraid of having the final memory of her be one of heartbreak.

As a last-ditch effort, he devises a plan. Eren hosts a party at his place to celebrate the upcoming graduation. He invites the Alpha Tau brothers, plus some sorority girls for good measure. However, his main objective is to invite her. He ends up sending a group text to his senior project team, casually informing them of his little gathering. Sasha and Connie both reply, announcing their attendance, but she doesn’t.

At the party, he tries not to think about her, distracting himself by socializing with the crowds of people already filling his apartment. When Connie and Sasha arrive together, he decides to try one more time before he consumes his sorrows away. After exchanging polite greetings with them, he asks, “Have you guys heard anything from her?”

“Nope. I don’t think she even texted back, right?”

Eren’s ready to reach for the closest container of booze he can find. The duo walks past him to enjoy the party while he remains standing, watching the door for another minute. Just as he’s about to turn his heel, he sees it open slowly.

She walks in, her favorite drink in hand, a happy expression on her face as soon as she spots him. In the background, someone yells out, “Eren! Tequila shots?”

Waving the familiar bottle at him, she smiles.

“Nah,” Eren responds, gazing at her with a grin. “I’m sticking with strawberry soju from now on.”

--------------------

Taglist: @liliorsstuff-blog @batafuraikisu @bloompompom @belovedackerman @wtfiswrongwithme1

#eren jaeger #eren smut #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren x fem!reader #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager #aot smut #strawberry soju

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websterss · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄 𝟏/𝟒 — 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You never thought much of it, Ethan's need to help you, the way he was always nice, too nice sometimes, you never thought much of it until he killed you one night. Not only did Ethan have to worry about your friends suspecting foul play, but he also had to worry himself about the fact he could see, hear, and touch you. You haunt him until he confesses to the group about what he did.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): A bit graphic, mentions of blood and dying, angst, implications of non-con smut, but no actual smut at the end sorry.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,726

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ethan Landry x fem!Ghost!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! I based this off the song by Lizzy McAlpine - Doomsday

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You never would have seen it coming. The knife. The costume, the way you yanked on the mask and met eyes with your worst fear possible. Your trust and confidence in Ethan was lost in the span of a solid night. The night you let him into your tiny apartment. A night you assumed would have been filled with studying, teasing, and eventually a good night kiss because your feelings for the dork grew over the months of getting to know him. You didn’t see it coming because you never believed someone like him could hold so much hate and evil in their heart, in his eyes. The same eyes you felt comfortable staring into, but now, stared into them with fear.

Ethan sat at the edge of your bed, the knife twiddling in his left, the bracelet he ripped off you in his right. He looked at the trail of blood you were leaving behind. Your faint cries and whimpers could be heard down the hall. He closed his eyes, guilt eating him alive for what he had to finish out.

No witnesses left alive, his father's words echoed through his mind. The fucked up part…you weren’t even on their list. You weren’t part of the plan, but you were getting too attached to the idea of seeing a future with him, and his dad didn’t like it. The fucked up conversation he had with him replaying like a broken record.

“She has nothing to do with this!” Ethan argued.

“If you don’t do it, I will and I won’t be so gentle about it. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at her…It has to be you. Maybe then you’ll learn to listen to me when I tell you not to do something. Do it soon and do it fast!”

“Dad…she has nothing to do with this.”

“I told you not to get attached to anyone and what’s the first thing you did! Get rid of her or I will!” Ethan stumbled back as his dad shoved a ghostface mask into his chest.

He was brought back to the current mask in his hands, he sighed, standing up. Knowing he was only dragging this on further, and making you suffer more than he intended for you to. It was supposed to be quick, but then you yanked on the mask and he lost his mind.

Your heart spiked hearing his boots on the tile. You willed yourself to crawl faster but the loss of blood was draining your energy and strength. Ethan looked left at the wall, it was hard to watch you. He had to give it to you though, you were determined to escape…even if you only made it about ten feet from your room.

“Y/n…” He closed his eyes. His voice was slightly cracking.

“Noo…” You pleaded. Your cries increased as you pushed against the floor. Your hand kept slipping though. The blood gave you no friction to push yourself further. The door was right there…it was right there.

“You’re not gonna get to the door. You’re not, I’m sorry.” He sighed.

“I will, I will.” You cried.

“Not with where I stabbed you. That wound was intentional.” He informed.

It only made you cry harder. Your vision blurred from the tears falling down your face, onto the floor. The door was becoming difficult to see now. “I-I can. I just need to push myself.” You groaned, then screeched when you felt a gentle hand turn you onto your back. You tried pushing him off but it was no use at this point. Your fate was doomed.

“Please.” You pushed against his clothed chest. He leans down to press a kiss against your temple, then you feel the harsh insert of his knife entering your wound once more. Your gasp falls heavily against his ears. You begin to choke on your own blood in an attempt to get a single word out. He pulls the knife out and watches as your chest starts to rise and fall even slower now. “W-Why?” You mustered before your breathing grew shallow, and your eyes dilated. The last thing you saw before the world fell into a dark void, was the fall of a tear roll down his cheek.

The group still couldn’t come to terms with your death even as they stood before your casket. The small ceremony was beautiful. Your parents thanked those who came to show their love and respect. The group could see right through your parent's facade though. Trying to be strong but in reality they were torn at the loss of their child. Seeking revenge and justice for you. They had no clue who had it out for you, for them.

The group did though. They knew the real cause of your death. They knew who was back. They just didn’t know who stood behind the mask this time, and why they decided you had to be the first victim to their blade. Ghostface was back, and your smiling portrait staring back at them was enough to send them a message. No one was safe.

They each took turns laying a white rose into your grave. Chad even went beyond the rose and pressed his kissed fingertips to your portrait. Saying his farewells to you, silently promising under his breath. “We’re gonna get this son of a bitch for you, Y/L/N. I’ll see to it.” He shed a tear, his heart heavy for losing his beloved game night partner. For losing another amazing friend in his life. He couldn’t bear being there any longer than he wanted to. He needed to go let off some steam before he himself more than likely pummeled someone into their own grave. The niche joke was probably too soon thought of, but he was so angry for you. He wanted someone to pay. He patted Ethan letting him know that they’d all be at Sam’s and Tara’s if he wanted to join them.

It had been Ethan however, who stayed a few minutes behind. Guilt was all he felt as he was staring at your casket in the ground. Then at your picture that practically mocked him, as if you’d say. “They’re gonna find out eventually ya know.” Ethan’s heart sank as he caught sight of movement from his peripheral. Then the voice kept speaking. “This is some serious out-of-body experience I’m going through right now. Like this shit is crazy.” You tilt your head watching your casket be buried by dirt. “I never thought I’d be attending my own funeral, yet here I am.”

“I’m dreaming.” Ethan finally got a good look at you.

“Afraid not.” You examine your portrait on the stand. Pouting slightly for your own loss. “At least Mom picked a decent picture. High school senior picture. Not bad.” You smile at the picture of yourself and whip around to face the curly-haired man who killed you. The reaction you were getting from him was priceless. It’s like he’d seen a ghost or something- oh wait he did!

“What is this?” He muttered under his breath. He looked around wondering if anyone else could see you.

“I don’t know but I’m enjoying every second.” You smirked.

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I am.” You gestured to your grave and picture. Ethan rolled his eyes at your sarcastic smile.

“No. Dead as is gone. Not whatever this is!” He gestured to all of you. “I didn’t ask to be haunted by your ghost.”

“Well, if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions!.” You feign empathy.

“Why are you still here?”

“Hell should I know…All I remember was seeing you cry, then everything went dark. The next thing I know I’m falling face first into the grass over there, and see all of you here, mourning me.” You shrug.

“This can’t be happening to me…” Ethan shakes his head and walks off from your grave. "This has got be be one of worst things to happen to me."

“You’re one to talk…” You shove past him trying to get ahead of his pace. But it was that singular moment of physical contact that had you both stopping in place. Ethan stares wildly at the back of your head, watching your back straighten, and then you turn to face him with eyes just as big and confused as his.

“Did you feel that?” You broke the tension.

“You touched me.” Ethan palmed where your shoulder bumped into his. You copied him.

“I can touch you?” You questioned.

“This really can’t be happening.” His breath labored, his hands feeling clammy. He couldn’t process this in its entirety due to how fast everything was shifting and moving along.

He just watched you get buried and now he was having a verbal, somehow physical conversation with you. He swore he was losing his mind because you shouldn’t have been able to see, speak, or touch him. Yet he had you back for just a moment, or however long this would last, but you could touch him, and he could feel you. No pure thoughts ran sanely through his head. Yet it was one glance at your empty wrist and everything all came back to him. “This can’t be happening to me.” He spoke quickly then dragged you back to his dorm.

You would have questioned him and where he was taking you but you were just as lost and confused as he was, but as far as you knew he was the only one who could help you and see you. As much as you were against the idea of receiving his help, you let him drag you along with him.

One minute you were meeting your demise, and the next you were back as a ghost being dragged by Ethan to his dorm. And now your back was pressed up his door as he frantically turned his side of the dorm upside down. You relaxed back into the door, your head thrown back as Ethan went on a rampant search.

"Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"I know I have it. I took it off you..." Ethan whispered to himself, but it caught your attention nonetheless. You pushed off the door and stepped closer to him.

"Took what off me?" Your breathing quickened as you glanced down at yourself. "Ethan, what did you take off me?"

Ethan sighed heavily as he crawled out from searching under his bed. Then stood up straight again. He looked around his belongings, then at last patted down his jeans. You watched as he dug into his pockets and sighed in relief when his fingers collided with what he had been searching for.

"This!" Ethan pulled it out for you to see. You rubbed your clammy palms against your jeans because dangling from his fingertips was your bracelet, your gold one. The one you never took off. The one you were wearing the other night.

"M-My bracelet..." You gasped. You subconsciously rubbed the empty part of your wrist, not feeling it against your skin because it wasn't there to begin with. You didn't pass over with it on, to where you were right now. Was this some fucked up form of limbo you were stuck in. The in-between. You didn't know what this was, but all you knew was that all the emotions, the fear, knowing you weren't gonna get to see the light of day came rushing back. You stumbled back and slammed into the door, sliding down it, until you were sat on the carpet. You only stared defeated as Ethan fiddled with the small chain. He didn't know what to say.

What does one say to their ghost?

Sorry, I killed you.

"I think you're tethered to it." Ethan came and sat beside you. Copying your position. He offered the bracelet to you, but when he tried to gently place it on your open palm it fell right through you. You both locked eyes, then looked down at the fallen band. "You can't touch it..." No shit, sherlock.

"I didn't die with it." You swallowed thickly. "It wasn't a part of me that night." You assumed. It felt like the only reasonable thing to make sense. "I didn't even notice you took it off...I didn't die with it on, so presumably, it didn't cross me with." You gesture to it as Ethan goes to pick it up again. "It's still mine though, it belongs to me. So if I'm back for whatever reason that may be, that is one of them." You pressed your fingertip to the top of his right hand. Ethan's eyes fell down to your touch because that was one thing he still couldn't comprehend, being able to feel you. It was too much to take in, in one day, but he was even more shocked by your next words. "I'm gonna make your life miserable." You took your hand back and stared off towards the window, letting the sun bask over your form, but you wished for nothing more than to feel its warmth hit you because all you felt now was cold, anger, and hatred for the guy who called himself your friend.

"No one knows it was me." He turned to you. A dark glint in his eyes cast over the innocent boyish charm he was trying to portray, now you knew it was nothing but an act, and you fell victim to it. He draped an arm across your lap, getting as close and personal as he could. You held his gaze but leaned back the slightest bit. "No one heard you scream that night, and no one's gonna hear you now. So whatever plan you got up in that head of yours. It won't see the light of day, you know why?" He tilted his head, reaching a hand up to caress your cheek gently. "Because you didn't." You wanted nothing more than to smack that twisted smile off his lips.

"You're gonna wish you hadn't killed me." Your eyes didn't falter away from his own, but Ethan shook his head as a tear fell down your face.

"Oh yeah, and why is that?" He pulled away but tugged on your waist, inching you up onto his lap. You placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. If he was this cynical and twisted as he was showing himself to be, you figured the direction of where this afternoon was heading for you. He wanted you when you were alive, no doubt he wanted you the same now too, but dead. You felt just as doomed the minute you shoved your shoulder into his at the cemetery.

"Cause I'm gonna drive you to insanity. I'll make you confess to what you did. You won't know a peaceful night's sleep after today." You situated yourself better on his lap.

"Is that a threat, baby?" The sick bastard was enjoying this.

"It's a promise..." You leaned down and whispered to him softly.

"I'll hold you to it then." Ethan stood up, making you slip out of his lap. Then stood up, towering over your ghostly self again. To the oblivious eyes, he looked less threatening without the costume and mask, but after knowing everything you did now. His tall build drawing closer as your back hit the door again scared you more than anything. You shouldn't have been so frightened by him, you were dead, and the worst part had passed, but he trapped you in place. You felt just as helpless and vulnerable as you were that night. If his looming frame didn't put you at ease, neither did the words that he spoke in your ear. You visibly cringed as his breath tickled your ear.

"No one heard you scream then, and they won't hear you now. So scream as loud as you want tonight, but no one will come." You felt numb as he started pressing gentle kisses to your neck. You'd have thought that your demise was violent. That the worst part was over, but as you stood there, trying to hang on to any hope that there was still some good in him somewhere. You knew that the worst had only just begun. That you didn't get a choice in this matter and it all started with the death of you.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry series #my gif #writings by juls

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memento-yuumori · 2 years ago

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In the anime, William says “it’s my loss, Sherly.” And then immediately cuts Sherlock’s arm so that he will let go of him.

In the manga, before he cuts Sherlock, he says “Live on and atone for my sins, you say? There might have been such a future… but now it seems like fate won’t show me any mercy[*]… That scaffold cannot possibly support this much weight…”

Sherlock tells him “throw away the damn sword… and use both hands to grab mine,” to which he responds “The only one I wish to have return home alive… is you”. And then he cuts Sherlock.

And although it may not seem like it, I think this difference greatly changes the meaning of William’s intended final actions.

In the anime, William forced Sherlock to let go of him to ensure/hasten his own death, getting the final word despite admitting that Sherlock did beat him in the end.

In the manga, William forced Sherlock to let go because he knew that Sherlock wouldn’t let go on his own even if it meant the bridge giving out and them both falling to their deaths. He cut him not because he wanted to die, but because he wanted Sherlock to live.

*I’ve also thought a lot about how this line almost feels like William regretting not being able to live to see the future he set in motion the way Sherlock is trying to persuade him to. As if maybe Sherlock had given him a tiny spark of desire to live on, but he can see that there is no longer a way for Sherlock to pull him back up onto the bridge without their combined weight dooming both of them.

#I just #feel so much #and I love the anime but there’s so much depth it leaves out for the sake of cramming everything into 24 episodes #yuukoku no moriarty spoilers #moriarty the patriot spoilers #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #anime vs manga comparisons #sherliam #my posts #manga musings #not really because there are no images but whatever #meta #does this count as meta?#help why am I adding tags

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aria-greenhoodie · 1 month ago

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Ok so um. I’ve had this idea for a gravity falls AU called “Fractured Zodiac” where a SECOND, sort of back-up zodiac is created in response to the original zodiac prophecy, but something in the prediction goes wrong and the zodiac symbol holders are scattered across time. They each come into contact with some piece of Blendin’s time shit and can contact each other with it, but they’re fated to never reach their destiny as proper enemies of bill because they’re still stuck in their own time periods. Heroes doomed to never reach their heroic destinies to their fullest….

Originally this was just gonna be an Anti-Cipher Society thing, but I’ve been thinking about Emmaline Butternubbins recently and I REALLY wanna make her apart of this fractured zodiac… I’m thinking about making her zodiac The Torch/The Fire (for obvious reasons). Oh and of course Abigale Blackwing, my babygirl, my blorbo, my scrimblo bimbus, is part of this zodiac. Her zodiac is gonna be a bird, kinda torn between a Crow, Raven, or Mockingbird…. Maybe even a magpie? Not sure yet, but definitely a dark-feathered bird. I’m debating whether all the rest of the Anti-Cipher Society should be Zodiac Symbols too…

My main issue though is, besides Abigale and Emmaline and maybe the rest of the anti-cipher society…. Who should be in the zodiac? I wanna focus on characters from tbob that weren’t given a lot of love, like maybe the Pharoh Bill had a weird thing with, and maybe that wizard with the fuck-ass name… but who else…?

@localcanadiancreature62 beloved mutual whom I love to infect…. Thoughts?

#AND ANYONE ELSE FEEL FREE TO CHIME IN #BREWING SOMETHING EEEEEVILLLLLL #aria ramblings #gravity falls #tbob #the book of bill #abigale blackwing #emmaline butternubbins #anti-cipher society #gf #gf AU #gravity falls au

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kaigarax · 1 year ago

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The Reason We Exist

Nanami Ryusui x Reader

Quote: “Fall in love with someone because of how you click with them.”

“Why do we exist?” Ryusui asks.

Your humming stops abruptly. You tilt your head to the side, as if debating the question, turning to him, “quite the loaded question you have.”

Ryusui nods.

“Do you really think I’m the right person to be asking?”

“Who else would I ask?”

“Ukyo, Gen, Senku or maybe even Chrome,” you laugh, “afterall, aren’t the five of you supposed to be the ‘Five Wise Generals’ or something?”

Ryusui smiles, “I wanted your opinion.”

“Well, I’m honoured.”

“As anyone would be.”

You lean back, a playful look in your eyes, “I suppose…”

---

“So you’re going to want to put emphasis on the distinction between these two lines here or else it’s going to look like a different letter.” you explain.

Ryusui watches in amusement as you teach Chrome how to write. The brown haired explorer is trying his best to hide a blush when your hand wraps around his own in an attempt to help him get the feeling of writing.

A lesser man would have been jealous of the sight if the object of their affections were getting close with another man, but not Ryusui. Nanami Ryusui is a man who is confident in both his relationship with you (though the two of you were only friends) and in himself. If there was something he wanted then he most certainly would have it.

Besides, Ryusui was fairly certain that Chrome was already fond of a certain village high priestess.

“Oh, so how about this?” Chrome asks.

Ryusui is confident in his perseverance.

“That’s great!” you smile, “now try this one.”

And he is confident in his ability.

Of course, he is not so confident that he believes that everything is already within his grasp. This world, afterall, is not always kind and Nanami Ryusui finds himself constantly torn between his two greatest wants. The world and you.

In an ideal world, he could have both. He would have both.

But, alas, this is not the world of fantasy. This is a reality. A reality of heartbreak and yearning. A world of building and creation where we are forced to either to build the life we hope to live in or create a brilliant place for everyone else. Not yet has Ryusui decided his fate but it is an ending that is quickly approaching. A doom he must soon face for afterall, one can only stay situated in limbow for so long before something goes horribly and terribly wrong.

But for now, he waits. Caught between a rock and a hard place. Between poetry and prose.

Perhaps one day, Ryusui will be able to decide.

Truthfully, though, he fears that he won’t be able to. That everything will eventually come crumbling down and he’ll be left with nothing.

“Oh, Ryusui!” Your eyes light up as you make your way towards him, “how long have you been standing there?”

Ryusui gives you a bright smile, “how truthful would you like me to be?”

“How about~” you hum, “as truthful as you think I believe you to be.”

He chuckles, “then I’ve just arrived.”

“So what brings you here in the first place?”

“I wanted to show you the progress on the hot air balloon but if you’re busy I can always come back later.”

“I’m just about done. Do you mind waiting?” you ask, giving Ryusui a cute little pout.

“Not at all.”

It’s strange for Ryusui. He’d never once been the kind of person to wait for someone else and yet here he was. Perhaps it was just that there was something different about you.

Ryusui’s first impression of you hadn’t been much. He, like many others, failed to see the brilliance you had. A skill rarely seen in someone so young; a talent most detrimental to recreating this new world; and a gift that Ryusui so desperately covets.

Ryusui let out a deep sigh as he left the meeting room. Well it was more of a small single room house.

His first impression of this New World had been amazing. Everything was up for the taking - but he had been rather short sighted. Ryusui hadn’t stopped to think about how difficult it really would be to reclaim this world.

People were, of course, the most important resource. Without any revival fluid there would be no constant revival which meant there would be no boost in societal development. They were limited to the people already here. Ryusui’s ideas for agricultural development had been shot down by the others and Ryusui didn’t want to push back against the others. It would only divide them.

Instead, Ryusui would have to swallow his pride and wait.

“Don’t worry, you’ve definitely caught Senku’s interest.”

When Ryusui turns he sees you. He thinks he remembers you from when he first made his way out of the stone but he can’t exactly remember. While there aren’t many people there are even less names that he’s bothered to learn.

You’re leaning against the wall of the small hut, your hair pushed back and your eyes gleaming in a way that Ryusui is rather familiar with.

You’re pretty. Very pretty. In fact, Ryusui is wondering how he’s only noticed that now. All women are beautiful but even someone like Ryusui has a type and you seem to fall exactly into it. Your eyes gleam and your smile is soft. Your complexion is pleasant and you seem to stare directly into the soul of the person.

You’re wearing something similar to the other Villagers but the bright red brand around your wrist catches Ryusui’s attention. He thinks it brings out your eyes.

Now, Ryusui isn’t someone that just listens to anyone - even if that person happens to be just his type. Of course, anyone can have good ideas but that doesn't mean that everyone does but that gleam in your eyes catches his interest.

“Oh? And how can you know that for certain, little Missy?” Ryusui asks.

You smile in a way that Ryusui finds quite pleasant, “from the subtle expression on his face. Senku’s eyes always widen in the slightest way when something catches his attention.”

“And how did you notice this little snippet of information?”

You move in towards him, a confused look on your face, “doesn't everyone?”

And that’s when he knew.

You were brilliant, you just didn’t know it and that made it even better. Such a rare skill you possess and Ryusui wanted nothing more than to cultivate and possess it.

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?”

“Gen!” You smile brightly, leaving Ryusui’s side and bouncing towards the Mentalist, “are you ready to go?”

“Hello? Ryusui?” you wave a hand in front of his face, “anyone in there?”

“Sorry,” Ryusui gives you his best confident smile, “I was reminiscing.”

“How pleasant~” you hum, “so are you ready to go?”

“Yes! It’s-”

“Oh, Ryusui!” The familiar voice of the Mentalist cuts Ryusui off, “just the person I was looking for.”

“Gen.” greets Ryusui.

The Mentalist grins, sliding in between you and Ryusui, “well don’t you look ecstatic to see me.”

You pout, poking Gen on the side, “and don’t you look ecstatic to see me.”

“Of course I’m ecstatic to see you, (Y/n).” says Gen, turning his back towards Ryusui, “I was just told to look for Ryusui over here. Senku asked me to find Ryusui so they could discuss some things.”

“Of course he did.” You eye Gen suspiciously but he merely smiles in response.

And thus, the great internal conflict.

His curiosity is likely to get the better of him. He knows that he is needed to accomplish a task that heavily affects the development of this world and it gets his blood pumping. Excitement is at an all time high.

Yet, of course, it means that this is another moment he won’t get to spend with you.

He thinks of the excited look he won’t get to see. The sparkle in your eyes when you see something that amazes you.

But, this little conversation with Senku isn’t something he’ll put off. It’s not likely anything that he’ll ever put off. Afterall, doing this brings him one step closer to everything else in this world. And of course that is where internal conflict strikes once again. His want for everything in this world and you.

“Ryusui.” It’s you again, giving him that look, “it’s okay to go.”

“Okay.” He says, though he isn’t sure if the words come from him or not.

You unwrap a red band from your wrist before grabbing Ryusui’s hand and wrapping it around his own.

It’s such a bright red colour. Not something a colour often seen in the New World.

“What’s this for?” Ryusui asks.

You laugh, “to tie your hair up.”

“Don’t you need it?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Hey!” Gen speaks up, “what about me, (Y/n)? Do you have a band for me to tie my hair with?”

You ignore the Mentalist, “good luck, Ryusui. Let’s pray that Senku doesn't come up with another crazy plan. Of course, it is always exciting to see what he’ll come up with next.”

He smiles in response.

---

Ryusui had never been the best at construction. Sure, he was in shape but that doesn't mean he was automatically a building genius. His kind of work was usually the kind that revolved around creation rather than construction.

Of course, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to help.

It was actually quite exciting for Ryusui. To get the chance to do something he wouldn’t have gotten to do in the world before.

Hammering away at nails and lugging large logs of wood around isn’t the funniest job in the world but it certainly makes one feel accomplished. Most of the villagers have chipped in as which does make the workload pass through faster.

You’re working on the ship today, too. Usually you tend to the farms or help Yuzuriha with the production of clothing. Of course, with the new machine that Yuzuriha has he doubts that she needs as much help as she had before. You do tend to help rebuild statues but with the loss of the revival fluid there doesn't seem to be as much urgency.

“Are you sure that’s supposed to look that way?” You ask.

Ryusui smiles, “of course!”

“I definitely think we should ask Chrome to come and look at this part.”

“Don’t you trust me, (Y/n)?”

“Not even slightly when it comes to building.”

Ryusui places a hand on his chest, “I’m hurt.”

“I’m certain you are. Now don’t do anything while I go and get Chrome. I don’t want you ruining things further.”

“Ruining! I’m wounded.”

You laugh, “I’m sure you’ll get over it quickly.”

Your laugh makes him smile as well.

Listening to your demands, Ryusui keeps his hands and feet frozen. He watches as you meticulously make your way towards where Chrome is instructing people. You walk with your hands to either side of you to better balance yourself though it doesn't seem to help much.

In fact, it doesn't seem to help at all as you place a step a little too close to the edge.

Your balance is quickly lost.

Ryusui quicker though as he runs towards you, grabbing your hand and pulling you into his chest before you can fall.

“Woah there.” Teases Ryusui, “don’t need you falling to your death now do we?”

“Ryusui, we’re barely an inch off the ground.”

Ryusui smiles, “you never know.”

---

“Why do we exist?” Ryusui asks.

Your humming stops abruptly. You tilt your head to the side, as if debating the question before turning to him, “quite the loaded question you have.”

Ryusui nods.

“Do you really think I’m the right person to be asking?”

“Who else would I ask?”

“Ukyo, Gen, Senku or maybe even Chrome,” you laugh, “afterall, aren’t the five of you supposed to be the ‘Five Wise Generals’ or something?”

Ryusui smiles, “I wanted your opinion.”

“Well, I’m honoured.”

“As anyone would be.”

You lean back, a playful look in your eyes, “I suppose, if I had to come up with a reason for our existence I’d have to say that we exist for the sake of others.”

“Then that must mean I exist for you.”

Fall in love with someone because of how you click with them.

#Dr Stone #dr stone x reader #nanami ryusui x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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hlficlibrary · 4 months ago

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hi, can you please recommend me some angst fics. Maybe not the most popular ones because I feel like I’ve read them all already.

Thank you!

Hi, anon! You're very welcome! I'm thinking maybe some from this year? So they're more recent-ish. The first three are some of my favorites from this year that haven't gotten enough attention. (And the last one is my own angst fic I wrote this year :) )

don't be afraid to love (and love again) by localopa / @voulezloux

All Louis’ life, he’s known he’s been different. There’s always been something at odds about how he felt.

As the eldest daughter of seven kids, he knew something was wrong with his body. Something was off, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His mum dressed him in dresses and tights, plaits in his hair as he wandered around with the local neighborhood boys. They called him a girl, called him she and Rosemary when his name is Louis. He had told the boys as such, but they would tell him Louis is a boy’s name, not a girl’s.

Louis is a boy. He knows he is.

or the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.

Fuck You For Ruining New York City For Me by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry

Harry met Louis in college and fell in love with him in record time. Louis broke up with him in their New York apartment, so Harry left the city for good. Except now he’s back, visiting with his new boyfriend.

What happens when they run into each other at a bar three years after breaking up?

I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) by @lululawrence

“Louis,” Harry breathed happily. His smile widened as he realized he’d finally found him, and he was stood before his soulstar. This was the closest they’d been in 31 Earth years, which had felt extraordinarily long for Harry, even in his star form. He could hardly withhold his happiness at seeing him again.

“Erm, yeah,” Louis said, interrupting Harry’s thoughts with his brows furrowing and looking clearly suspicious. “And you are?”

Harry and Louis are literal stars who have known they were soulmates from their creation eons ago, however when Louis came to Earth to start the next phase of their fated future, he forgot everything. Even Harry.

This leaves Harry to break the rules and instead of waiting for Louis to call him and join him on Earth, he crashes down on his own. Without Louis there to guide him and help him learn how to adjust to having a human body and everything associated with that, Harry has no other choice but to do the best he can.

As Harry tries to correct what has gone wrong, he finds that friendship can be a light even in the darkest night, and through those bonds even separated soulstars can find their fated path once more.

Scarred by @allwaswell16

As a male omega, Louis has learned to live with disappointment and rejection, but he dreams of the day he finds his soulmate. When Harry inadvertently rejects him as his soulmate, Harry has no idea he's doomed Louis to a slow, painful death.

Pride doesn't keep Louis from telling Harry the truth. But love does.

#ficrec #minificrecs #ask #anon #angst #lululawrence #localopa #galacticlarry #allwaswell16

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annie-creates · 2 years ago

Text

Just a few grapes

Pairing: Lady Lesso x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1000

Note: Reader has trouble eating, so even tho there's nothing explicit be aware of possible triggers. Thank you so much for the kind message and request, notes like these are what gives everything I do meaning. I hope I did your idea justice.

You were what people would describe as sunshine. Everyone knew your peculiar ability to make your vicinity feel better. Your mere presence conjured smiles on people’s faces and your aura radiated peace and calm. Many would seek you out to help them forget about sad thoughts or just to make them feel a little happier. You were quite popular around the school for good. There was no doubt the universe prepared great things for you. Dean Dovey would often say you’re the definition of the greatest good, the white swan of innocence and purity.

Maybe the noble treatment was the reason why the real life took by such surprise. Graduating and claiming your own story was supposed to be something magical, yet you found yourself on a path of hardships and struggles. You weren’t treated like a godly princess anymore, people in the real world found you average, if not a bit annoying. Your fate dimmed your light of innocence and purity, making you experience all the doom of those who aren’t prepared.

When you returned to the school for good and evil, you weren’t the enchanted girl who left, full of silly hope and innocent imaginations. You were a woman carrying her own ills and scars. Yet your presence still calmed others and your smile made everyone’s day just the tiniest bit better. You were tested by the life, coming back wise and cannie. Who was once a naïve little girl came back as experienced sharp-witted woman.

Now years later you found yourself at the side of your girlfriend, mingling the dinning hall as others chatted the night away. It was a significant evening, celebrating the equinox as per an old tradition. Tables were full of the most remarkable food and drinks, successfully satisfying everyone’s taste. You’d find anything you could imagine, yet you didn’t feel like using the opportunity right now. You just couldn’t find the need within yourself. Everything looked boring and tasteless to you.

Leonora gave you a side eye seeing you just nibbling in your dinner, not really eating. She was used to all your routines and bad habits by now, having trouble eating properly being one of them. You couldn’t help it, it was just one of the things your brought back from your uneasy life in the outside world. She’d lie if she said she couldn’t understand it though, having worked through traumas and vices herself when she was younger.

You excused yourself from the table, having been counting seconds for the past couple minutes until it was formally okay to do so. You weren’t going to spend more hours sitting around pretending to enjoy the food and conversation for longer than absolutely necessary. Snuggling into bed you had no intention waiting awake for your girlfriend, but your rumbling stomach didn’t wanna let you fall into a peaceful slumber, so you just tossed and turned around in the sheets.

You were finally distracted by Lesso coming through the door, carefully assessing the situation in the room to not wake you up in case you’d be already sleeping. To your dismay you weren’t. She smiled at you as you sat up in the bed, knowing there’s no reason trying to fall asleep anymore. You didn’t like to sleep without her anyway, her arm was your favorite pillow and the beat of her heart your favorite lullaby.

“Hi, did I wake you up?” Lesso asked as she came into the room, gently sitting on her side of the bed.

“Nah, I couldn’t sleep,” you shook your head hair flying into you face.

“Good. I’ve brought you a little snack, in case you were hungry,” Leonora placed a plate on the bed, knowing you might eat something little.

“You didn’t have to…” you tried to dismiss it before even looking at the plate full of apples, bananas and grapes cut into little pieces and ridden of seeds so you can easily eat it. The thought and care behind it almost brought tears into your eyes. “Wow, thank you.”

“Don’t even mention it. You can take whatever you want if you want,” your girlfriend knew there’s no reason trying to force you to eat, it only made you shut down more. Giving the option while making it the most accessible was the way.

“How was your day?” you asked her to distract yourself, and just because you loved listening to her voice.

“Well, I had a few successful attempts in death traps today, Satan knows those kids might actually be of some good use. And Avery, remember the reader kid? She actually got her first magic trick, I bet she’ll be a real deal with her finger glow…” she went on about her day and anything she could think of that would be of any interest to you.

“Wasn’t she one of the Nevers you said had no business in your school?” you asked with a smile, stuffing your mouth with more grapes.

“Yea, but she was actually good this week. I mean bad… evil… you know what I mean,” you both laughed over it. “I think that with a little guidance, the right friends and a few nights in the doom room she could actually achieve something.”

“Well if anyone can make her a good evil it’s you,” you admitted cleaning the plate of a few last pieces. “Thanks for the fruit, it was actually good.”

“No problem love,” Leonora put the plate away, proud of your progress in eating. You still needed to be focused on something else, but you ate more easily.

Crawling into bed with you, she fluffed up the pillows and sheets to have a good warm cozy nest to sleep in. Laying down together you placed your ear over her heart being calmed by her even breath as she tucked you closer to her chest with her strong arms. To you the only nest you needed was her.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered before falling asleep.

“Always.”

#lady lesso fluff #lady lesso x you #lady lesso x reader #lady lesso #lady leonora lesso #lady leonora lesso x reader #leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #tsfgae #sge #charlize theron #the school for good and evil #school for good and evil

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the-feels-assassin · 7 months ago

Text

So I’ve maybe said this before, but The Terminator is one of my favorite movies of All Time. This always surprises guys who vastly prefer Terminator 2, and they are always intrigued that I prefer the first movie.

But like Terminator 2 is the most perfectly made 12 year old boy movie of all time. This is NOT an insult. I love Terminator 2. I love 12 year old boy movies (hello, every Marvel movie and like Star Wars). Despite never having been a 12 year old boy, I am sometimes a 12 year old boy at heart. And I love T2 for that.

But The Terminator is a twisted, fatalistic, apocalyptic dark romance. It lacks all the optimism of T2 (necessary for a 12 yo boy movie). T2 tells us there is no fate but what we make while the first one tell us “you are trapped by the narrative and you are doomed.”

And I don’t know, there’s just something about a fated doomed romance, all against the backdrop of man vs machine. And T2 can’t touch that.

#The Terminator #I really love this movie #and also Michael Biehn in it

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littlemisssquiggles · 8 months ago

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Did you see the RWBY volume 9 epilogue?

I'm happy there was more to it than what we got from last year and that we actually got to see characters like Nora Oscar and Ren featured as important characters

I'm especially Happy Oscar actually got to be in it because to be honest he gets excluded so much I was actually shocked he had a part and we actually got to focus on him for once

This also gives me hope that they'll do something similar like they did with cinder ,with Oscar because I believe it was possibly said in a q&a or in a live stream

that originally they wanted to do cinders backstory and volume 4-5 when we thought she got killed off again but they kept having to push it back along with other things they wanted to do for certain characters

and since many think Oscar is possibly not going to make it through his merge and it will be just ozpin/Oz

when it's done maybe we'll actually get to see his past and maybe because Oscar is merging with Ozpin that means his memories are catching up with Oz's memories and will maybe get to see Oz's past too because that's something we've all wondered about as well

and maybe we'll get a hint at where the final relic is because I don't believe the writers are just going to wait tell the last minute to show us were it is I think they're going to hint at it

I don't Oscar part sense he my favorite along side ozpin

what do you think 🤔

Hiya Autumn o/ Thank you so much for your inbox and pardon the late reply.

To answer your first question, yes, I did see the full V9 Epilogue Animatic. TWICE and I plan on rewatching it many, many times because I haven’t recovered from it yet.

I know I’ve been relatively silent these days especially when it comes to this newly dropped animatic. But that’s mostly because I haven’t fully gathered my thoughts on it yet to form a consisive essay.

My head is still reeling from all that was revealed in that short space of animatic frames, particularly the bits about Oscar and what he’s currently going through. As a Pinehead, you just know that part got to me the most because BOI! WAS IT GOOD! Oscar-worthy, as I might say,

So if I may, and if you don’t mind m’fam, I am going to piggyback off of your inboxed message and use this as opportunity to get some of my main thoughts about Oscar’s side of the Epilogue off of my chest. So here I go.

According to the RWBY V9 full Epilogue Animatic…

Oscar’s story with the Merge with Oz has officially started with him isolating himself from his friends while he goes through it on his own, practically dooming him (and essentially Oz as well) to suffer in silence.

But while that’s how things seem to be starting, if it doesn’t end with a scene where Oscar is going through the Merge but this time he’s surrounded by all of his friends all vowing to stay by side through it all and cherish him for who he is---Oscar---no matter who he becomes after the Merge.

If it doesn’t end with all of Oscar’s friends being there for him during the Merge (ESPECIALLY Ruby) then, like Jon Snow , I don't want it.

I don’t know how Oscar’s story will end.

The way I perceive it, Oscar’s story can end in many possible different ways.

In one way, Oscar’s story could end the way it was originally intended to, according to the natural progression of the narrative.---with Salem being defeated, Ozma finally moving on and Oscar being allowed to live the rest of his days as himself, Merge completely avoided.

Or like a Shamalan movie, it can end with a twist. Maybe Oscar isn’t so lucky and doesn’t avoid the Merge like his predecessors and is changed forever.

Maybe Oscar gets attack by Tyrian and “dies” forcing the Merge to happen as a way to save his life.

Maybe Oscar is taken to the Tree and gets to meet the Blacksmith who decides his final fate in the Merge.

Or who knows? Maybe the CRWBY Writers saw the recent 60th anniversary Doctor Who special and have the brilliance to put a new spin on the whole Ozma cycle where instead of Oscar merging with Oz, the two split apart with either wizards retaining their memories and single identities.

Instead of Oscar of losing himself to the Merge, he is set free leaving Ozma to carry on his mission to the Gods as himself. So no more pairing him up with like-minded souls. Like Oscar, Ozma is now his own person with his own agency. So even if he died again, similar to Salem, Ozma was still immortal only now he would simply come back in his original body as opposed to the former latter of playing hot potato with his soul inhabiting another poor innocent man or young boy’s body. All this with the extra added bonus that now we have two great and powerful wizards for the price of one. Both Oscar and the newly reincarnated Ozma (who gets back his original form---the one that was married to Salem and equally as powerful as her) retained his combat-ready muscle memory and shared ability to use magic. So Ozma, naturally fights with his trademark Long Memory, while Oscar uses magic freehand without the need for the cane.

That last one’s a big stretch but like all of my past Pinehead headcanons that I’ve tossed aimlessly into the ether of the FNDM community, I’m keeping it on the table of possibilities since it’d make a sick Oscar the Sorceror’s Apprentice Pinehead headcanon AU. Definitely adding that one to the list.

---

Anyways, getting back on track. Through everything that Oscar has been put through in the story so far, the most I want from this whole Merge storyline is that he doesn’t have to go through it on his own and I don’t mean, he’s going through it with just Oz as his main company.

What I mean for that is, I don’t think the implications of what the Merge means has truly sunk in for the rest of the hero team. A part of me wishes to assume that part of the reason why the rest of the hero team seems so nonchalant about Oscar’s whole merge with Oz is because Oscar has never truly been honest with them about how he really feels about the merge.

The last time Oscar spoke about the Merge with the team was back in V6 when he basically did it in such a “no biggie; don’t worry about me” sort of way that it came off as if he just said it to sound brave in the moment for the sake of the team and for the sake of keeping his own emotions in check.

I say this because as we’ve seen from the events of V7 through V8, Oscar is very anxious about the Merge. He doesn’t want it to happen which is why he and Oz are now fighting to keep it from happening even though it’s already long begun.

Bottom-line, I don’t think Oscar has been completely honest with anyone else outside of Oz about how he truly feels concerning the Merge. And now that it’s happening, he’s basically resolved himself to go through it alone. I don’t even think anyone else in the current group; not Nora, not Emerald, not even Ren (who literally has the ability to read someone’s thoughts and feelings through their emotions) knows about what he’s going through.

I wonder if Oscar puts on a brave face whenever he’s with the others and anytime he feels another “Merger episode” coming along, he quickly excuses himself (probably claiming that he needs to get back to his research in the Archives of Solitude) so the others don’t have to see him going through it.

Ren, in particular, because I’m sure if Ren saw Oscar’s pain from the Merge, he would blurt it out. Ren has now become the unsung singing canary of the hero team after his whole semblance upgrade.

Just like how he blurted out that Ozpin was back during the tunnel walk back in V8 following the rescue mission and escape from Monstro, Ren would definitely reveal that Oscar is going through the Merge if he knew he was going through it and having a painful grand ole time too.

Ren’s inability to remain discrete when revealing another’s true emotions could probably explain why Oscar has been avoiding alone time with him.

If you look at it, Ren is on his own probably stretching himself between helping everyone. It’s also interesting to me that Oscar hasn’t asked anyone else to help look for stuff in the Shade Archives.

Even if Oscar is technically two people in one, that is still a big ass library of books and archives to sift through for even two people. And yet, as we saw from the epilogue, Oscar is ALONE most of the time and I highly doubt no one else offered to help him in the libraries.

I know the Atlesian refugees are a priority but, when you look closely, everyone else is basically sharing the work; helping each other out with something. Nora is supporting folks like SSSN and CVFY.

Same for Ren. Em as well (even though she’s mostly mentioned in notes in the scene in the animatic).

But when you look to Oscar. He is ALL BY HIMSELF.

Yes, he has Oz with him. But, that doesn’t count. Why hasn’t anyone else volunteered to help Oscar in the archives?

My assumption is because Oscar probably convinced the others to leave the archives to him (and Oz) and prioritize the refugees as a way of ensuring that he’s by himself at all times so no one would have to glimpse his pain from the Merge.

Again, each time a merger episode was highlighted in the epilogue animatic, Oscar was by himself. So my money is that no one knows what Oscar’s really going through.

No one else knows of his mental struggle or pain.

And why I find this interesting is because it kind of parallels Ruby’s whole detachment period from the others in the Ever After before she went to the Tree and what happened at the Mad Tea Party.

Not saying Oscar will share a similar experience as Ruby. I’m just saying, he’s clearly removed himself from the others and acting alone.

As Ren pointed out, he’s not himself. He’s there but…not there at the same time.

This brings me back to my point. Personally, I do want Oscar pulling himself from the team to hide the fact that he’s going through the Merge to be proven canon.

And I want it to be canon so that the first person to pick up that something is clearly off about Oscar’s behaviour to be Ruby.

Maybe Ruby realizes that Oscar is acting weird and when she brings it up, Ren is probably definitely the first person to reveal that he’s been sensing something off for a while but after everything that’s happened, similar to how he’s currently giving Nora space to work things out on her own, Ren has been doing the same with Oscar.

He’s been giving the little prince space when if anyone were to look closely at Ren’s expressions, they could probably see his frustration in being the one to know fully well that his friends aren’t entirely ok and despite wanting to help, he still feels helpless because Ren can’t force his friends to accept his help; no matter how much he offers, y’know what I mean?

I feel like some of RWBYJ’s struggles in the After Ever and how they rose to triumph over them could be mirrored in what NOR is going through now back in Vacuo.

Overall, the point I’m trying to make here is that I just want a moment where Oscar is having another merger episode and he tries to go through it alone, believing that he has to, only to get the reassurance and support he needs from his friends.

I saw someone compare Oscar’s merger episodes to Penny’s battle with Watts’ virus back in V8.

And while I didn’t enjoy the forced heavy focus on Penny during that season, I did sort of like how it culminated in everyone coming together to show their support of Penny and reminding her that she is a part of their team.

That is a type of a moment I want for Oscar. Because unlike Penny, feeling like a part of the team as himself and not just a placeholder for Oz is something Oscar desires.

I want Oscar to push his friends away, believing that he needed to go through this Merge on his own, only to be reminded by his friends in the end that they have his back no matter what.

That he is still a part of their team. That he is still Oscar to them no matter who he becomes in the Merge.

I want a scene where Oscar loses it, possibly even abusing his magic to force walls between himself and his friends only for those said friends to break down those walls and be there for him.

(Maybe even have a moment where Oscar loses control of his magic while trying to fight the Merge and it ends up looking like a moment where everyone thinks it's another Grimm attack when it's actually Oscar whose feelings of the merge have manifested into some kind of monstrous form that Oscar practically cocooned himself inside of).

Y’know that moment in Steven Universe Future where Steven loses control and all of his friends---all the major people he has helped throughout the seasons---come together to help him for once.

I want a moment where the whole team---Ruby, Nora, Ren, Jaune, Blake, Yang, Weiss and Emerald---all of Oscar’s people are there at his side showing him full support as he goes through the Merge; ensuring him that he doesn’t have to be scared of the Merge anymore because no matter who he becomes in the Merge, he will always be Oscar to them.

He’s not Ozpin. He’s not Ozma. He’s sure as hell ain’t Salem’s Ozma. He’s Oscar. Their Oscar

The small, cute farm boy from Mistral who showed up on their doorstep one random night in Mistral and has now cemented himself as one of the most important members of their little team that they will not stand to lose; not even to himself.

I want Oscar to be reminded by his friends that he will be cherished and supported no matter who he becomes in Merge.

Even if Oscar forgot his “old self” due to the Merge, they---his friends, will be there to remind him of who he was because they, as his friends, will never forgot Oscar because to them, he never left.

I just want a moment where everybody group hugs Oscar while he cries about SIX SEASONS worth of repressed tears after all the sh** he's been put through plot-wise. I want it dagnabbit!

Who knows? Maybe Oscar has another painful merger episode and it’s the worse one he’s had since it started and the love and support of his friends surrounding him is what helps to ease him out of it and back to his old farm boy Oscar self.

Just give me one scene like that. That’s all I want.

Don’t know if it will ever come to fruition given the current state of RT and the fate of RWBY as a whole. But hey, still wanted to get that off of my chest.

---

On the subject of the CRWBY Writers possibly showing more of Oscar's past in V10 as he's going through the Merge:

Honestly, at this point, m'fam, it's either now or never.

Now, as in during the events of V10, is the perfect time to give the audience more insight into Oscar's past and who he is. It is practically mandatory at this point that they show it as he is going into a storyline where he's being forced to lose that part of himself. They just have to do it!

Just as how V8 could pretty much be pretty much summed up as another Cinder-centric season similar to V4-V5, V10 could potentially be more Oscar-focused as he's going through the Merge. Like I said, it's the right time for them to do it.

And while I'm unsure of them telling Ozpin's story, maybe that too can be done and do something similar to what they did with Ren and Nora's backstory back in V4.

We got Ren and Nora's whole history in Kunoyuri in an episode that jumped back and forth between the past and the present.

Perhaps Oscar could have a potential episode in V10 where he's having another Merge episode and, as I theorized, he loses control of his magic while a) fighting the Merge again and b) running away/hiding from his friends so that they would've have to see him suffer through it.

So it's an episode that ping pongs between the present day where Oscar's friends are trying to get through to him while he's suffering through yet another painful Merger episode and the past which reveals more of Oscar's backstory leading up to the moment he met Oz and possibly showing other Oscar-centric moments that we, as the audience, never got to see like what happened with Oscar in Argus after his fall out with Jaune (remember we never got to see his side of things and it's something that still bothers me to this day)

Perhaps Ozpin's past is mixed in with it as well as you mentioned and the location of the final relic is actually revealed in Ozpin's memories in a flashback where he entrusted the location to someone. Maybe that person was Summer Rose. Since V9 revealed there is more to Summer Rose's story and that Raven actually knows more about that; perhaps Summer Rose's disappearance is connected to the final Relic or at least the final vault?

I dunno.

Overall, I definitely do like the idea of a potential episode of V10 fully dedicated to sharing bits of both Oscar's past as well as Ozpin's; specifically during his time as headmaster of Beacon when Team STRQ were still students since it could potentially reveal more on where Oz hid the location of the Vault of the Fall Maiden and the Relic of Choice. And if that episode is then followed up by an episode that shows the hero team---all of Oscar's friends actually helping him through an episode of the Merge then even better.

I think that would be pretty amazing. Hope that helps answer your questions m'fam. Let me know.

~ LMS (2024)

#squiggles answers: rwby #oscar pine #rwby volume 9 spoilers #rwby v9 epilogue animatic #ruby rose #lie ren #oscar and ozpin #professor ozpin

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