#something that has history in it's cracks and rips
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For some reason, I imagine going to the Bowery King and asking these questions like "Sir I NEED to know! It's for business!"
Small domestic things i wanna know about John wick:
How does he like his coffee in the morning?
On which side does he sleep?
What kind of books does he like ?
What is his favorite casual outfit ?
What art/architecture style is is favorite
What kind of music does he like ? (I bet Jazz)
What are his love languages?
Basically i need a dating profile of him
#btw my hc's if anyone's interested#Coffee: I assume just black#he doesn't add anything in the scene of him making it so#Sleep: Judging on how he feel asleep and got up in the first movie#he falls asleep on his back but then switches somewhere in his sleep#seems like both left and right variant is shown so idk#Head-Canon he's a cuddler so if he feels something next to him he will hug it#it's a threat#Books: I'm not a book-reader so I can't even imagine this#maybe just anything he finds for restoration in his free time#Clothes: I imagine he doesn't care much about his appearance and just wears whatever is comfortable#his style is "Someone's introverted dad standing in a corner on a barbecue”#Art: If we continue with the “John does restoration” it's probably something old#something that has history in it's cracks and rips#Music: I actually can't decide between Jazz and Old Rock#both?#Love: I imagine it's act of service and time spent together#he's not a talkative person so I don't think words will really mean anything to him#based on the movie gifts might also be it but I don't see him as a materialistic person myself#so it might just have been that he knows Helen's love language is gifts and follows it#which can be kind of like an act of service#Okay this is actually fun to head-canon hehehe
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Humans and their pets
The sentient races of the universe have just about started to get their heads, or approximate similar in function body parts, around the odd nature of humans but only recently have humans begun to bring other Earth creatures into space with them.
“Don't worry about Fluffy, he's totally ship trained.” the human designated Bradley spoke with frightening casualness about the creature sat at his side. It's muzzle was level with his hips and it's forward facing eyes showed it had predator history just as much as humans did.
“It has fangs.” Captain Mota'tog was unimpressed. The permissions were correctly stamped on the file and yet such a creature hardly appeared inoffensive.
“He does not, he's not poisonous. Of course some of his teeth are sharp, he's an omnivore.”
“He's a hunter.”
“He mostly hunts biscuits. He'll scavenge in the canteen from anyone soft enough to feed him. He's a certified well-being dog. People stroke him, he's got really soft fur, it makes them feel better. Look, he's wagging his tail, it means he likes you.”
Mota-tog whistled uncertainly.
“Oh wow!” One of the human engineers arrived at the airlock and dropped her bag as she stared at the dog. “So cute!”
Fluffy jumped round, tail wagging furiously, nuzzling in as the woman buried her hands in his warm soft fur.
“You are totally gorgeous. You're so fluffy and beautiful, you're like a little polar bear. You're here to stay, yes you are.” the woman happily baby talked to the dog who was more than half her size.
Bradley looked at the Captain and indicated. “See. Dogs make us happy.”
“You do all the care for it.”
“Of course.”
There were some false starts with the rest of the crew who were not so trusting of the huge pack hunter in their midst, but over the next few months they slowly learned to trust that the worst he would do was beg for food off their plates at meal times. Some of the braver aliens even began to pet him.
Then an alarm sounded.
Everyone raced to their emergency stations.
Bradley was in the cargo hold, his duty was to check the cargo was safe and secure.
He had quickly trained Fluffy to sit in a corner out of the way. It kept him safe in case anything shifted. The last thing he wanted was for his pet to get hurt by moving cargo.
The clang of magnetic grabs was deafening.
The alert was for a boarding raid.
Pirates.
Bradley cracked his knuckles and picked up a pry bar.
Through the rest of the ship there were varying degrees of panic.
A few of the other species could fight but most looked to the humans, having learned the way they fought when cornered and knowing their best hope to survive was to stay back and wait for the screaming to stop.
“What the fuck is that?!” the shout was shock and outrage. More anger than fear in the moment.
Crouching as it came through the main airlock was a creature taller and broader than anything else on the ship.
“Star spirits preserve us,” Mota'tog whistled. “A Batath.”
“It's a bloody troll is what it is.” Martins snapped.
Everyone froze as they heard the snarling and growling.
It was not coming from the Batath.
Fluffy arrived at speed and leapt, not caring can his opponent was huge. His fur was already matted with the blood of pirates and this was just another opponent.
The humans charged.
The Batath could only concentrate on one enemy at a time, it was used to picking off creatures as they ran, not fighting them off as something had its teeth deep around a knee trying to rip it apart.
The pirates ran when the Batath fell and the gore covered humans turned to face them.
Bradley let himself drop to the deck. “Don't worry, I'm fine. Good boy, Fluffy.”
Mota'tog shook his feathers as he watched the dog go back from snarling killing machine to placid fuss receiver. “I swear to the spirits, all Earth creatures are insane.”
#humans are space orcs#writers on tumblr#haso#writers#all the creatures of Earth are crazy#humans are deathworlders
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so seb and y/n broke up after 2011, super messy break up, alot of tears, and they have never spoken after that. she switched jobs into mercedes. he has a panic attack and is gasping for breath and keeps asking for y/n. y/n comes running and seb breaks down sobbing. note the date is the same as the day they broke up. he confesses that he messed up and is so sorry. Thanks! love ur blog <333333333333333333
🍂🍂🍂🍂 one of my fav 🍂🍂🍂🍂
breathe baby breathe (sv5)
The air in the Red Bull garage hung heavy. The tension wasn't new - ever since 2010, ever since the spectacularly messy break-up that left a trail of shattered trophies and tear-stained pit walls, Seb and Y/N existed in an uneasy parallel universe within the F1 circus. He, a stoic German with haunted blue eyes, remained with Red Bull. She, a steely Brit with a heart encased in ice, had taken a high-profile switch to Mercedes.
Qualifying had been a disaster for Seb. A gearbox issue had left him stranded on track, his championship dreams spiraling down like a flaming meteor. Now, back in the garage, a cold sweat slicked his palms. His vision swam, the faces of mechanics blurring into an incomprehensible mess. His chest tightened, a cold vice squeezing the air from his lungs. He tried to take a breath, but it came out in a ragged gasp.
Panic clawed its way up his throat. This wasn't right. This wasn't just disappointment. His heart hammered a frantic tattoo against his ribs, each beat a deafening boom in his head. The air, thick with the smell of burnt rubber and ozone, offered no solace. He fumbled for his water bottle, the plastic slick with sweat in his trembling hand.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. He stumbled back, his vision going dark at the edges. A primal fear, a terror he hadn't felt since he was a child lost in the supermarket, seized him. A strangled cry escaped his lips – not a word, just a raw sound of terror.
Mark Webber, ever the teammate, noticed Seb's distress first. "Seb! You alright?" The concern in Mark's voice barely penetrated the fog of panic muddling Seb's thoughts. He needed Y/N. It was a nonsensical thought, a desperate plea from a drowning man clutching at a straw. But it was the only lifeline he could grasp.
"Y/N," he rasped, his voice a pathetic croak. Mark's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The name had never passed Seb's lips in all these years. But right now, reason had abandoned him.
Mark didn't hesitate. He knew the history, the bitter fallout, but in this moment, all he saw was a teammate in distress. "Y/N!" he bellowed, his voice cracking through the tense silence of the garage.
Y/N was huddled in the Mercedes garage, dissecting the telemetry data from Lewis's qualifying run. The news of Seb's car trouble had filtered through, a bittersweet pang twisting in her gut. She'd long buried the ghost of their relationship, or so she thought.
Mark's urgent yell shattered her focus. "Y/N!" It echoed through the corridor, laced with a raw panic that sent a jolt through her. Memories, both bitter and sweet, flooded her mind. Ignoring the bewildered stares of her colleagues, she surged towards Red Bull's garage, a primal fear urging her forward.
The sight that greeted her ripped the carefully constructed wall around her heart clean open. Seb, usually the epitome of stoicism, was a crumpled mess on the floor. His face, drained of color, was contorted in fear, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His normally steely blue eyes were wide and frantic, searching for something, someone.
The past dissolved. This wasn't about their break-up, not anymore. This was about a human being in distress. Ignoring the initial shock, she dropped to her knees beside him, her professional training kicking in. "Seb, hey, focus on me," she said, her voice firm but gentle. He didn't respond, his gaze flitting around the room like a trapped animal.
Panic threatened to engulf her again, but she forced it down. Taking a deep breath, she mirrored it, holding his hand and speaking slowly, deliberately. "breathe baby breathe for me Seb. In with me, slow and steady." He flinched at the touch of her hand, a flicker of recognition crossing his face, then quickly masked by raw fear.
He tried, or rather, his body tried. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle. Seeing his plight, she knelt closer, gently pushing a stray strand of hair off his damp forehead. It was a simple gesture, born of instinct, and it seemed to anchor him.
"That's it," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. "Slow breaths. You're alright, Seb. You're with me." As the words left her lips, a strangled sob ripped through him, shaking his entire frame. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill, but he squeezed his eyes shut, a desperate attempt to hold them back.
Y/N's heart ached. The sight of his vulnerability shattered the years of built-up resentment. Without a thought, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. His trembling body crumpled against hers, the final dam breaking. Sob after wracking sob escaped his lips, raw and unfiltered.
He didn't care if she saw. In that moment, all he needed was a human anchor, a safe harbor in the storm of his panic. And for the first time in years, Y/N felt the familiar pull of protectiveness surge through her. The past was still there, a shadow lurking at the edges, but right now, all that mattered was calming the storm raging within him.
The tremors in Seb's body gradually subsided, his sobs muffled against her shoulder. His grip on her arms tightened, a silent plea for comfort. Y/N held him close, stroking his hair with a gentleness that surprised even her. The scent of his familiar racing cologne, a mix of leather and adrenaline, flooded her senses, a potent reminder of a past she couldn't fully outrun.
"Y/N," he finally rasped, his voice hoarse. Shame laced each word, a stark contrast to the bravado he usually wore. "I miss you. So damn much." The words hung heavy in the air, a confession ripped bare by his vulnerability.
A lump formed in Y/N's throat. Part of her wanted to pull away, to retreat back into the icy fortress she'd built around her heart. But the raw pain in his voice, the vulnerability etched on his face, held her captive.
"You messed up, Seb," she said, her voice barely a whisper. It wasn't a question, but a simple statement, a truth they both acknowledged.
He flinched, a choked sob escaping his lips. "I know. I know, and I regret it every damn day. Even my parents yell about it. They keep saying I threw away the best thing that ever happened to me." His voice cracked, raw with self-loathing.
Y/N's breath hitched. She knew his parents adored her, a stark contrast to the strained relationship he had with his father at the time. The revelation stung, a reminder of what they'd lost.
A hesitant breath escaped her lips. "Seb," she started, unsure how to proceed.
He cut her off, a tremor running through his voice. "And the worst part? Even after all this time... I still love you, Y/N. Madly." He confessed the words in a rush, as if afraid to hold them back any longer.
Silence descended upon them, thick and heavy with unspoken emotions. Then, a soft, surprised sound escaped Y/N's lips.
"You still...?" She couldn't finish the question, the weight of his confession settling on her chest.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers, a desperate plea for a flicker of reciprocation. "Every damn day," he whispered. "Even now, on our monthaversaries, I still go get your favorite pad thai."
The admission, a small, vulnerable detail from a past they both cherished, cracked the ice around Y/N's heart.
A wry smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips, a flicker of disbelief coloring her voice. "Pad thai, huh? You never did learn to like that."
Seb chuckled, a wet, shaky sound. "No, I never did. But seeing you devour it with that look of pure joy... it was worth every forced bite." His gaze softened, lingering on her face for a beat too long.
The weight of his words, laced with a longing that mirrored her own, threatened to unravel the careful control she'd maintained. Taking a deep breath, she confessed, "You know, I used to stalk your social media, Seb. Every model the tabloids linked you with, I'd dissect their pictures online, a jealous wreck." Shame burned in her cheeks as she admitted the truth.
His eyes widened in surprise. "You... you did?"
"Don't judge," she countered, a hint of defiance lacing her voice. "We both have things we regret."
He shook his head, his expression softening. "Never. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, even if I was a colossal idiot back then."
Y/N couldn't help but let out a small laugh, the sound surprisingly warm. "Maybe a little," she conceded. "But even after switching teams, a part of me still wants you to win every race, Seb. It's a terrible conflict of interest, I know."
He squeezed her hand, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes. "Really?"
"Don't get cocky," she teased, a playful glint returning to her eyes. "But seeing you on that podium, the pure joy on your face... it's hard to explain."
A comfortable silence settled between them, a stark contrast to the storm that had raged just moments before. Then, a mischievous thought struck Y/N.
"Speaking of confessions," she began, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Remember those chocolate chip cookies Mark always seems to have a stash of during race weekends?"
Seb's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of recognition dawning on his face. "Wait, you...?"
"Guilty as charged," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "I figured you still loved them, even after all these years."
Seb's lips curved into a genuine smile, the first one she'd seen in far too long. "You have no idea," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "They were... a ray of sunshine on some pretty dark days."
Their eyes met, a spark of something new igniting in the space between them. The past, with all its baggage, still loomed, but for the first time, they weren't facing it alone.
two days later
Two days had passed since their tearful encounter in the Red Bull garage. The air crackled with unspoken emotions, a constant undercurrent in the sterile environment of the Formula One paddock. Y/N sat hunched over her laptop in the Mercedes motorhome, the glow of the screen illuminating the dark circles under her eyes. Sleep had been a distant dream, replaced by the whirring of her mind replaying every stolen glance, every hesitant touch with Seb.
A soft knock startled her from her thoughts. Wiping the fatigue from her eyes, she called out, "Come in."
The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish Seb holding a familiar white paper bag. His hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth.
"Hey," he mumbled, stepping inside hesitantly.
"Seb? What are you doing here?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with surprise.
He held up the bag, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips. "Pad thai. Your favorite. I, uh, thought maybe you could use a break from all that data?"
A wave of warmth washed over Y/N. "You remembered," she whispered, her gaze dropping to the bag.
"How could I forget?" he replied, his voice softer than she'd heard in years. "It's become more than just a dish, Y/N. It's a reminder of everything we were, everything I messed up."
He took a tentative step closer, his eyes searching hers. The vulnerability in his gaze tugged at her heartstrings.
"Look," he continued, his voice thick with emotion, "I know this is crazy, showing up here unannounced after everything. But I can't stay silent anymore. These past few days have been torture. The thought of you... of losing you again..." He trailed off, his voice choked with emotion.
"Seb," Y/N started, her own voice trembling.
He held up a hand, silencing her. "No, let me finish. These past years have been a living hell without you. Every race win felt hollow, every victory parade a painful reminder of what I'd thrown away. My parents were right, you know. You were the best thing that ever happened to me."
He took another step closer, the air crackling with unspoken emotions between them. "Y/N," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I love you. I never stopped. And if there's even a sliver of a chance, I want you back. I want to rebuild what we had, stronger this time."
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, blurring his image. She couldn't take his beautiful monologue any longer. With a strangled cry, she launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck. The pad thai forgotten, they fell into a desperate embrace.
"Seb," she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. "I love you, I love you, I love you," the words tumbling out in a breathless rush.
He held her tighter, the sound of her choked sobs a balm to his tortured soul. "Never letting you go again," he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with a promise they both desperately wanted to keep.
In the heart of the bustling Formula One paddock, amidst the roar of engines and the relentless pursuit of victory, they found solace in each other's arms. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but for the first time in years, they weren't facing it alone. They had each other, a second chance at a love that had weathered the storm and emerged stronger, more resilient than ever before.
#sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel x you#sebastian vettel x y/n#sebastian vettel x femreader#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel fanfic#sv5#sv5 x reader#sv5 fanfic#seb vettel#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula one#red bull racing#y/n#ava speaks#anon#requests#redbull#f1#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#fluff
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Undeserving - Where the shadow of the past looms over Diluc’s present
A/N: I'm baaaaaack. This one has been in the works for a minute, and has taken on many different forms, but here I grace you with a work about my OG Genshin husband. Please enjoy and let me know what you think! Not beta read
Content: ANGSTTTT, Husband Diluc, relationship troubles.
Word count: 1.5K
Diluc Ragvindr had convinced himself that the last thing he wanted on this earth was to start a family. The tale of his own being torn apart would never not be a sore wound, one that incessantly throbbed, one that he believed would never heal.
The idea of being ripped away from any sort of attachment was repulsive, as was the possibility of growing estranged from loved ones. Familial bonds were simply too sensitive of a topic. Too painful of an ache.
You on the other hand, had always dreamed of the wonders of marriage. Of a sacred contract of love and care. And after years of timid courting, Diluc did what he thought would never be possible. He gave into the new, selfish desires of your company. Of an attachment to you. Of what he could be WITH you.
Diluc got married to you, the love of his life. Something he felt was simultaneously the best and worse thing he could ever have done. It did not take too long for him to become consumed with dread of history repeating himself. The potential of all the failings of this new attachment loomed over him like shadows of the abyss.
While you enjoyed the newly-wed bliss, the joy of finally being united with your love. Your husband spiraled into more and more agitated thoughts. Yes, this union was something he had wanted. So badly it kept him awake at night. He had wanted to have you for himself. And him for you. But everything he kept inside him created a dangerous brew of dark thoughts that now made him restless.
He tried to hide this all from you. Oh how ashamed he felt. Staying at Angel’s share a little longer than usual, leaving the house before you woke up for sparring exercises, coming up with things to do when you tried to bring him lunch as a surprise.
It all came as a shock to your system. You had always known that Diluc was not openly affectionate, but he had never truly avoided you. Your romance was one of timid touches and whispered sweet words, of acts of service and long evening walks, but never of hiding and silence. It drove you mad.
You tried to be the bigger person and give him space. Afterall, you knew — if only partly— of his family’s woes and him not being used to have someone so close. But after weeks of this game of hide and seek, you had had enough.
One Friday night, with your own spiralling thoughts, you ordered all the house servants to take the weekend off, and waited for Diluc, resolve hard as steel to get through this issue.
When he silently cracked the door open, he jumped at the sight of you, gaze fixed on him with your arms crossed, a single candle on the nightstand illuminating your face.
“Hey,” he greeted quietly, closing the door before he started to take off his coat.
“Hey,” you responded, lips pursed as you watched him. These were the first words you had exchanged all week.
He almsot felt small under your gaze, taking off his outer garments and gloves which he set on his dresser and turned to face you with a sigh.
“I’m sorry I’ve been quite busy recently,” he tried to appease you, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I am exhausted, shall we sleep?”
Your brows furrowed in exasperation, and you unfolded your arms.
“Not so fast Diluc.” He froze at your tone, sharp, cutting through the dry air. “Is that truly all you wish to say?” You asked, feeling yourself growing shaky with all the contained emotions. Confusion. Anger. Fear.
“What…” he turned fully towards you “What do you mean?” he asked hesitantly.
You took in a shaky breath, closing your eyes to calm your nerves. When you reopened them, you noticed your husband’s slightly hunched position, his bangs falling over his eyes. That hair that always reminded you of a warm hearth. Something to grow fond of, now looked dull in the pale candelight. And the sight made your heart ache.
“Diluc please don’t play dumb with me. What is going on?” You ask, leaning towards him “You’re avoiding me.” The words leave a bitter taste in your mouth and your lip curls in distaste.
“Did I do something wrong?” You add after a pause, the sadness breaking through your tone.
“No, no, no, it’s nothing you have done.” He jumps in, guilt gripping at him hearing your pain. It was much easier to rationalize his behavior when all he saw was your sleeping form when he left in the mornings and came back late at night. But now faced with you awake, his chest felt unbelievably tight.
“Then what is it?” You ask, steadying your voice once again.
Diluc sighed, his fingers gripping the sheets beneath him. He then raises his head so his eyes can meet yours, the curtains of his hair falling away from his face, and you see the conflict in his eyes. The pain of something he is keeping locked away in his being.
“Please talk to me.” You whisper, covering his hand with yours.
“I…” he pauses, feeling ashamed of his thoughts. How could he even justify his actions to you. “Maybe… maybe us getting married was a mistake.”
The words pierce through you like a blade, and your entire body stiffens, mouth agape, eyes open wide. You feared your ears betrayed you. “What did you say?” you hear yourself ask.
His hand reached for yours, and you jerked away before he could reach you. His lips opened and closed multiple times, like he was trying to find words.
Recovering from the initial shock of his words, and all you felt was an overwhelming sense of anger bubble out of you. “Is there someone else?” You asked through gritted teeth. The possibility would absolutely obliterate you, but you had to know.
“No, I could never.” He rushed to say again. ”Then what is this about, Diluc!?” You almost yelled, chest heaving. You did not recognize the man standing before you.
“I…” he stammered again, brows downturned, biting his lower lip. “You just deserve someone better.” He spat out, his entire body tense. “You’re just too good for me. And I am sorry it took me until now to realize it. No.” He stopped himself. “I knew all along, but I was selfish.” He shook his head. “I just can’t make this work.” He sucked in a deep breath, his voice growing meek.
Your hands fall against the mattress, fully taking in his words. Words that did nothing to quell your anger, only adding more fuel to it.
“And who made that call?” You ask, loud voice resonating through the room. He looked up at you with wide eyes. “Who decided that huh?” You leaned towards him. “Not me.” You concluded bitterly.
“But.” He says, eyes locked with yours.
“But nothing, Diluc.” You punctuated, voice firm again. “I think you are deserving of me.” You point to yourself. “I love you Diluc. Do you not?”
“Of course I do.” He adds, closing the distance between you two, his fingers finding yours again. “I just don’t want this to end badly. I don’t want us to end badly.” He confesses.
“But don’t you think we’re worth the risk?” You ask, searching his eyes. “Don’t you think that our love is worth trying?” You emphasize.
He looks down at your linked fingers before his gaze returns to you. “I am a weak man. Weaker than I look, certainly. I’m scared of losing you.”
“So you decide to push me away?” You ask in disbelief, to which he stays silent. “Then I refuse to go. We are going to make this work, whether you believe you are strong enough for it or not.” You conclude.
Diluc looks at you, your eyes shining with determination and unshed tears. A testament to your own strenght. An announcement of his own weakness. How could he be Mondstat’s defender, working to uphold the foundation of his city if he could not work for you. The realization sunk into his stomach with a nauseating weight. He was chosing the easy way out. He was hurting you and himself because of fear.
“I am sorry.” He chokes out, pulling you into him, engulfing you in his warmth for a hug. “I really am not deserving of you.” He adds, his voice trembling as he buried his head into your neck.
“Just promise.” You wrap your arms around him “Promise you’ll try.”
He pulls away from you, his hands moving up to hold your cheeks, his eyes burning with new certainty, new determination. “I swear to you.” His thumbs move in circles against your skin, wiping away your tears that have started to fall. “I promise. I stake my life on this. On us.” And he brings his lips to yours to seal this commitment. The past was dark and seemed all-engulfing, but he would not let it overshadow this present with you.
Comment and reblogs are much appreciated :))
#hehehe she's an angsty one#I feel like he would struggle a lot at the early stages of a serious relationship#anyway#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin fanfic#diluc#diluc ragnvindr#diluc x reader#gingerteawrites#diluc angst
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write about a mean!ghost x reader? Either angst or with a breeding kink🫶
it is a bit unholy how much this ask excited me. i should not be attracted to mean fictional men, but here we are at this point in history
thanks for this ask! I hope y'all enjoy
fem!reader x mean!ghost
MDNI
Warnings: ghost is really mean to reader in the beginning, canon-typical violence, CMNF, humiliation, slight breeding kink, angst, crying, brief mention of female masturbation, fingering, hair-pulling, predator/prey dynamics, pussy slapping, hate sex, orgasm denial, harddom!ghost, dub-con, slight making up at end
Reader is a sniper and your callsign is Reaper
not proofread
you did your best as team 141's new sniper. Gaz, Soap, and Price all warmed up to you rather quickly. you were deadly on the field and friendly when everything was said and done. really, there was no one who didn't like you. you were just too nice, your smile too pure, for anyone to have any problem with you.
Ghost was the only exception. the prickly lieutenant wasn't too fond of having another sniper on the team to compete with, especially since you were, on the books, a better sniper than him. his orders to you were always barked with much more bite than the orders he gave to others. his gaze towards you was always draped with a slight scowl. when you'd get the perfect shot, or save the mission from failing, you never got any praise. all he would respond with was a silent stare that ripped your heart into shreds, or a grunt that sounded more like disapproval.
and you had enough of it.
you asked Ghost if you could speak with him one night while you all were on base, waiting for your next assignment. he couldn't mask the slight surprise in his eyes, before he nodded curtly.
when the time came for you to speak with him, you couldn't help how your heart almost escaped your chest. not only was he your superior, he was Ghost, the one soldier whom everyone feared, like a cryptid in some military folklore. and here you were, about to walk right into his lair, right into his sharp teeth. asking the wolf why he preyed on the lamb.
but there was another problem. Ghost, for all of his horror and renown on the field, was so fucking hot. how he stood tall with his arm crossed in all his masculine glory. how deep and raspy he sounded when he grunted, or how gravelly his voice was in the coms in your ear when he clipped orders at you. how his ass looked in those tactical pants, how you've spent many nights thinking about him as you stuffed your cunt with your fingers. you hated how his voice, his oh so mean voice reserved only for you, soaked your panties almost every time.
you knocked on the door to his office, trying to ignore your pumping heart and throbbing core as you stood and waited.
"come in," his deep voice sounded through the door. you slowly opened it and entered without looking at him as you shut the door. you took a deep breath and faced him, but you kept your back against the door.
"sir," you said dutifully. a formality that you cursed. "i wanted to speak to you about something." your voice shook slightly. despite all the things you've seen, all the people you've killed, this one man has the power to make you weak in the knees and in the head.
"yeah, figured that much," he said shortly. "spit it out."
you gulped, and you stepped forward a little. you would face him confidently, not cowering against the door like a student called into the principle's office. you summoned yourself here willingly, and there was no backing out.
"sir, i've been on the team for a while, and i would like to think that i've been a great asset. but i'm wonderiong if i've done anything to offend you?" you stated.
silence. you could've heard a pin drop in his office as he stared at you with his arm crossed, leaning back against his desk. his cold stare could've frozen your heart.
he wanted you to crack under his gaze. to spit out something stupid that would give him an excuse to dismiss you from the team. but you knew better. you met his deadly gaze head-on. if you were to die here, like this, at least you would do so standing up for yourself.
he slowly blinked, and you felt your heart drop when he finally spoke. "offended me?" he scoffed. "don't flatter yourself."
you slightly furrowed your brows.
"and what makes you think you've offended me?" he asked mockingly. your blood was boiling. you gulped. fuck it. if he was going to be so direct and curt, so were you.
"sir, you treat me differently than the others."
ghost stood up a bit straighter as he squared his shoulders, his arms still crossed on his chest.
"oh yeah?" he goaded. "how so?"
he knew the answer already. he wanted to make you crack, to hear you say it.
"sir, you're a lot... harder on me," you said slowly as you chose your words carefully. "it's the tone in your voice, and the way you look at me."
he inspected you for a moment. "the way i look at you, huh?" he said quietly.
"yes, sir," you said as confidently at you could.
ghost began to walk towards you, slowly, as if he were a beast stalking prey from the shadows. he made a beeline towards you.
"and how is it you think i look at you differently?" he was now within arm's reach as he looked down at you.
you almost lost your train of thought as you looked up at him. this close, he smelled like cigarettes and a tinge of whiskey, and gunpowder. you hated how hot, how attractive, it was. how his eyes stared into your own.
"sir, you..." you thought for a moment. the tension could've been cut with a knife. "you look at me very...disapprovingly."
ghost blinked. "oh, so you want my approval, is that it?" he quipped.
your eyes went wide for a moment before you shook your head. "no, sir. i just want to be treated like an equal member of this team."
your answer must've surprised him, because he leaned back ever so slightly as his eyes widened. but he quickly caught himself and resumed his dangerously indifferent stance.
"and what would it take to make you feel like an equal part of this team?" he asked.
you hadn't expected that. you cleared your throat before you spoke. "i'd just like you to talk to me the way you do to the other members, sir."
"you want me to talk to you like you're a man?" he knew that wasn't the answer.
"not exactly, sir. i just want to be treated like i'm an equal. i can't help but feel like you don't like me."
now he really hadn't expected you to say that. you could see his adam's apple bob as he swallowed.
"you come into my office and accuse me of not liking you?" he said coldly.
you looked him in the eyes. "sir, i didn't accuse you. i'm stating my observations and asking you to confirm or deny them."
he observed you for another moment before he started to slowly walk around you, until he was at your back. the hairs stood on the back of your neck as he leaned down to your ear.
"what about the way you look at me?" he whispered.
you instantly blushed, and your heart raced.
"i've seen the way you stare at me, how your eyes wander," he rasped. "how you stare at my arms and my cock."
"sir! i -" you squeaked. but you were cut off when one of his gloved hands came to rest over your mouth, and the other around your stomach, holding you against him. his hardening bulge was pressed against your ass.
"shh, don't want anyone else to hear this, do you?" he cooed in your ear. you breathed hard as you looked up at him, his gloved hand still covering your mouth.
"don't hide it, Reaper, i know you want me," he whispered in your ear. your eyes fluttered shut as you slightly relaxed against him. he smirked.
"that's what i thought." he let you go, and you quickly turned around to face him.
"you don't even know mean," he challenged as he looked at you with bedroom eyes through his skull mask. "i'll show you just how mean I can be."
you gulped again as you looked up at him.
"strip. before i rip those clothes off of you," he commanded.
you looked at him with wide eyes. you stopped breathing.
"that was an order, soldier," he said shorter this time. "don't test my patience."
you slightly nodded at him before you took off your shirt slowly. once it was off, you held it in front of you, over your stomach. but the warning in his eyes told you all you needed to know. you let your shirt drop to the floor with a quiet thud before you went to untie your shoes to remove them and your pants. most of your clothes were now in a heap on the floor next to you, your bra and panties still on.
"all of it. off." he snapped.
you blushed as you removed your undergarments, and wrapped your arms around your stomach as you stood bare before him. he breathed in deeply as he raked every inch of your body with his hungry eyes.
he jerked his head towards his desk. "bend over on the desk. now."
you slowly turned your back to him, walking towards his desk. it felt as if you were turning your back on a predator as you did so. you bent over on his desk until your elbows hit the smooth metal. your nipples perked up from the cold, and you looked behind you as you saw ghost approaching your naked body. the thud of his steps sounded like an earthquake to you as you waited with baited breath.
"look forward," he commanded once he made eye contact with you. you obeyed instantly. his presence could be felt right behind you now, and you gasped as a gloved finger slid over your wet pussy. ghost groaned.
"you can't hate me that much, to be this fucking wet for me," he growled as he all too gently rubbed your folds. "this pussy's just been achin' for me, hasn't it?"
"s...sir..." you said through labored breaths, your eyes screwed shut. but they flew open when he slapped your wet pussy. he huffed out his version of a laugh.
"that's what i thought." he pushed his index finger right against your clit, and you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes as he gently stroked it. "such a brave girl, coming into my office like this. you just wanted my cock so bad."
you shook your head. "no, no that's not why I came. oh!" he pressed harder against your clit, and your body shivered.
"pretendin' to be mad at me. it's got me worked up, i'll give ya that," he said as he splayed one hand over your back, pressing you down.
"i am mad - fuck!" you gasped as he inserted two gloved fingers into your pussy and began to stroke. you couldn't help the moans that flew from your mouth as he hit that spot that made you see stars.
"nothin' but a moanin' bitch for me now that i've got my fingers in you."
you grit your teeth and bit your tongue so that you wouldn't moan. he withdrew his fingers from your pussy but still held your back down. you looked back at him angrily.
"oh, that upset her," he teased. he leaned forward, and his voice took a much deeper and serious tone. "you're going to have to beg for it."
"fuck you," you said on instinct. but your eyes went wide as you realized what you had just said to your superior.
and ghost laughed. "i could dismiss you just for that, you know?" he said as he began to tease your entrance again. your eyes fluttered shut. "but i'm willing to forgive you if you beg for my fingers."
you grit your teeth. the feeling of his gloved fingers against your wet slit was perfect, but not enough. his fingers had filled you up so well, so much better than your own.
"please," you whispered.
"hm? didn't hear you," ghost said as he gently teased your entrance with his fingertips. you gasped.
"p...please," you said a bit louder.
"please what?" his fingertips slid in and out of your pussy.
you whimpered. "please, please i need your fingers."
"atta girl," he cooed as he pressed two fingers inside of you again. you gasped louder this time as he stroked them perfectly on your g-spot. "you sure you want to be treated equally?" he egged you on. "i don't treat any other task force members like this."
you moaned as he continued to stroke you, but suddenly the hand that was on your back came up to your hair and pulled your head back towards him. his fingers began to fuck you at a brutal pace and you screwed your eyes shut.
"i asked you a question, Reaper," ghost spat.
you tried to remember his question as his fingers fucked you. he shook his head. "already forgot? dumb bitch. i asked if you wanted to still be treated like an equal."
you moaned as his fingers curved at the end with each thrust. "n...no!!"
ghost released your hair and held you down again as his fingers continued to fuck you brutally. the sounds of your wet pussy filled his office.
"that's what i thought."
your body began to shake as your climax neared. ghost was just way too good at this, with the way his fingers curled precisely where they needed him to and the pressure of his hand against your back.
"ghost....i'm!"
right as you were about to climax, the second you were about to come, ghost withdrew his fingers from you. you looked back at him wildly, your face red. "what...what the fuck..." you nearly sobbed.
ghost slapped your pussy, and you jumped. "you really think i'd let you come that easily?"
you heard the metal of his belt clinking and the soft sound of a zipper being opened. you tried to turn to see his cock, but one of his hands flew to the back of your head and held your head down on the table.
"you stay still," he growled. you had no other choice but to comply, and you did so willingly. he eased the tip of his cock inside your weeping slit, and you gasped. you thought the process was going to be slow, given how slowly he put his tip inside you, but he suddenly thrusted his entire length into you. his gloved hand closed over your mouth before you could scream.
"stay quiet," he rasped in your ear. you could feel his cock twitching in your warm walls. he groaned when you clenched around him. "gonna use this pussy now."
ghost set a brutal pace immediately, his balls hanging down and slapping your wet clit with each thrust. he stayed leaned over you, holding one hand behind your back by your wrist, with his other hand around your mouth. he grunted quietly with each thrust.
"I know you've been wantin' this."
you clenched around him, and he laughed.
"you like it when I'm mean to you," he stated. but you were too far gone to respond. "you like it when I yell at you, when I put you in your place."
you moaned loudly under his hand as your eyes screwed shut.
"can't let a pretty little face like yours make me go soft," he mumbled against the back of your head.
his words faded, and the tip of his cock reached all the way to your cervix as you moaned against his hand. your toes began to lift from the floor as he fucked up into you harder. you gripped the metal desk as hard as you could before you suddenly came hard on his cock. ghost couldn't hold back the strangled moan that escaped him.
"you like comin' around this cock?" he whispered. you nodded vigorously. "gonna cum in this tight pussy."
he thrusted hard into you, the slaps of skin so lewd, a few more times before he came inside you with a groan. he stood above you, panting, as you both came to your senses. he pulled out and immediately pressed two gloved fingers against your slit to prevent his cum from leaking out. you looked back at him, your hair frizzy and face red.
"still think I'm mean to you?"
#ghost fanart#ghost mw2#cod mw2#cod ghost#ghost cod#ghost x you#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost art#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley imagine#ghost#ghost headcanons#cod art#modern warfare 2#cod fanart#cod fanfic#cod smut#call of duty mw2#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare 2#modern warfare ii#modern warefare ii#cod modern warfare#call of duty mwii#ask
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true blue. (two)
pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader
summary: both ellie and reader are u-haul lesbians and there is a jump scare
warnings: SMUT! suggestive themes, drug/alcohol usage, cursing, descriptions of abusive behavior (neither ellie or reader engages in these behaviors)
a/n: this chapter... idk it has me giggling and blushing.
read part one here!
Ellie felt like throwing up.
After finding out about your history with Cat, she decided that it would be best to only talk about the project with you. She knew she came off cold, but for some reason she didn’t care. When it came to Cat, Ellie almost always shut down, and when it came to the idea that Cat may have also stuck her tongue down your throat, Ellie felt physically sick. A part of her felt bad about having feelings for you, but another part of her was deeply disturbed by the fact that you were into Cat. She also didn’t like that you still had the photo up on your Instagram.
A part of her also knew that she was being dramatic, but the less rational side of her was winning over at the moment. She found herself ranting to Dina about it almost 5 times a week, or everytime they smoked together. At about three hits in, Ellie was already ranting about you and your pretty hair and your pretty lips and how they were tainted by Cat. Like clockwork Dina would roll her eyes, rip the joint from Ellie’s hand, and diffuse it in the ashtray they made at Color Me Mine.
“You need to get over this, man.”
“I’m trying.”
So here Ellie sat, writing the second part of the project in your dorm and refusing to make eye contact with you. You almost instantly noticed an immediate shift in Ellie’s demeanor when it changed weeks ago, but you were at your breaking point. At this point it almost seemed that anything you did would annoy her, or whenever you spoke she would act shocked as if she forgot you were there. Not only was it extremely aggravating, but it was also getting in the way of the quality of your project.
“Did I do something?” You questioned, breaking the silence Ellie was enjoying causing her eyes to shoot up to yours. Yeah, you fucked my-
“No.” She grumbled as she continued writing.
“Are you sure? Because the first day I thought we got along really well, and sometimes I just say everything that’s on my mind and I don’t realize I’m doing anything wrong until well-” You gestured to her with an almost panicked look on your face. “This.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just tired is all.” Ellie mumbled as she went back to her work, pretending to not pay you any mind. All you could do at this moment was roll your eyes and try to get back to work without anxiety overcoming you.
“You’re just like my fucking ex.” You mumbled under your breath as well.
“What?” Ellie snapped her head up at you, unsure if she heard you correctly. Because if she had heard you correctly, you were comparing her to Cat.
“Nothing.” You shook your head, this time it was your turn to avoid eye contact with her.
“No, you had something to say so say it.” She continued, her voice rough. This time you looked directly in her eyes, something behind them she just couldn’t place.
“I said, ‘you’re just like my ex’. Happy?” You gave her your best fake smile and went back to your work. It had never occurred to Ellie that maybe you hated Cat as much as she did. The difference between you and her, however, was that she would never keep up a photo of her making out with Cat for over a year.
“What does that mean?” She snapped with an almost immediate need to defend herself.
“It means that things were nice at first until you started being an asshole with no real explanation of what I have done.” You answered simply, shrugging your shoulders.
“I didn’t do that.” Ellie lied.
“You totally did!” You protested. “We were vibing, you were like telling me about your life and I was telling you about mine and you were fucking laughing. Now, you don’t even crack a smile.”
“I smi-”
“You do not, Ellie!” You took a deep breath before starting again. “I thought we were going to be friends. I wanted to be friends. You’re funny and hot, but you’re being a real bitch right now and I don’t like that. I’ve done it before and I really don’t have the heart in me to do it again.”
Ellie blinked at you a few times, the guilt from giving you the cold shoulder finally setting in. A part of her really wanted to blush at the compliments thrown her way, but she was overwhelmed by the idea that her behavior was mirroring Cat’s. You really were an innocent party in all of this and she took her frustrations out on you, the cute pen dealer.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been going through a tough time.” She lied, not wanting to reveal that the person you’re comparing her too right now is the reason she’s been acting this way. “ I know what that’s like, my ex was like that too and I didn’t mean to do that to you.”
She saw your hard exterior falter at her sentiment and the guilt inside Ellie began to build again.
“I had no idea, Ellie, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to push but if you ever want to talk about what’s going on, I am here.” You seemed completely genuine and that tore Ellie’s heart to bits. In an attempt to be kind you reached out and placed your hand on Ellie’s forearm again, right over the tattoo. “Plus, he didn’t deserve you.”
Ellie couldn’t help but snort at the comment, earning a confused look from you.
“She.” Ellie laughed. “She didn’t deserve me.”
You covered your hands with your face laughing at your own heteronormativity.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” You apologized, moving your hands from your face to stare at her freckled own trying not to burst out laughing again.
“You really couldn’t tell?” Ellie teased, gesturing to her forearm tattoo, earning a giggle from you and a red face from her.
“I mean, I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.” You teased back. “She’s smart, she’s funny, and she likes girls? Nuh-uh, too good to be true.”
As funny as the situation was, Ellie felt a deep warmth at your words. She wanted to believe you were flirting with her, but as of two minutes ago you had thought she was straight.
“Good with her fingers too. The whole package.” She added, a dimly lit fire behind her eyes.
“Oh yeah?” You feigned surprise. “I wouldn’t know. She should show me.” You leaned forward, pushing your laptop to the side table and getting dangerously close to Ellie.
Ellie almost choked on her own spit as you leaned closer. She eyed you up and down, her eyes lingering a little bit longer on the space between shirt and skin where she could see your cleavage poking through.
Without hesitation, Ellie threw her notebook to the side, leaned in and captured your lips with hers. You reciprocated immediately, your tongue trying to fight it’s way into her mouth. She parted her lips for you causing a moan to slip out of your mouth into hers. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, Ellie’s mind was racing. What the fuck was she doing, she thought. Not even an hour ago she was barely talking to you and now the sounds that were coming out of your mouth were about to make her come undone. Her hands wandered down your body, tracing the curves of your hips before slipping under your shirt. The feeling of her warm hands on your skin sent shivers down your spine.
Again, you moaned softly into her mouth as she teased your nipples, rolling them between her fingers. Breaking the kiss, Ellie moved her lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Your hand moved to caress her hair, grabbing it lightly. She gently moved you backwards on your bed, never stopping her assault on your neck, not wanting your whines to stop. She was going to lose her fucking mind. As she worked her way down, her hand slipped into your pants, finding its way to your wet center. She began circling her fingers in what felt like slow motion as she peppered kisses along your collarbone.
“Ellie..” you moaned, causing her to look up at you. The minute she did, you pulled her head upwards, attaching your lips to hers once again. Ellie felt like she was fucking floating, but her movement never stopped. As she picked up her pace she reveled in how you were squirming beneath her. She made a mental note to remember this moment for later.
With practiced ease, Ellie slipped a finger inside you, eliciting a gasp from your lips and causing you to separate from her. She pumped in and out, curling her finger just right to hit the gummy spot inside and making you scream out her name one more time. “You’re doing so fucking good.” Ellie soothed, pressing a kiss to your neck. You writhed against her hand, your hips bucking in rhythm with her movements.
As your pleasure built to a crescendo, Ellie added a second finger, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and you came hard, your body shaking with pleasure.
Ellie pulled her hand out of your pants, licking her fingers clean with a satisfied smirk on her face. Your body relaxed into the bed as you tried to catch your breath. She sat back up, nearly panting, but still soaking wet.
“Well, that was quite the show,” you managed to say between gasps. Ellie grinned and leaned in for another kiss before sitting back on her knees. “Looks like you'll have to show me what you've got too, baby."
-
E: I FUCKED HER.
D: WHAT????
D:.. who?
D: if it’s cat i’m going to go to wherever you are and break your rib.
E: Not Cat.
D: YOU DIDN’T.
D: cute project partner?
E: Yes.
D: it’s giving u-haul lesbian
E: It’s giving best sex of my life.
D: really??
E: REALLY. And I did all the work.
D: you are a freak
E: She’s so fucking hot… I don’t know what to do with myself.
E: I can’t do this project with her, I’m just gonna think about finger fucking her the whole time.
E: I miss her.
D: oh my god
D: get a grip
E: I’m TRYING.*(@HFh3uq9)(U
D:...
D: anyways.
D: are you coming to the party tonight?
E: I will be there.
Later that night Ellie found herself tucked into a sweaty frat party. Dina and Jesse really wanted to go and Ellie was still somewhat disoriented from her morning with you so she thought there was no better place to sober up. She was nursing a red cup with a brown colored liquid inside when she almost keeled over at the sight in front of her. There you stood in an impossibly tight dress, throwing back the very same gross drink Ellie had in her cup. Ellie looked around for any sight of Dina or Jesse but assumed they had found a quiet spot to make out and grind on each other for the rest of the night
She watched from the wall as you threw your hands in the air and started dancing to the very loud music with your friends. You were obviously drunk, but it was still nice to see the carefree side of you that she wasn’t able to see in the classroom. In your dorm room, however-
“Ellie!” You screamed across the dimly lit room, stumbling towards her and bringing her in for a tight hug. Ellie tried to say your name as enthusiastically as you had hers, but her voice got lost as you pressed your body up against hers.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, the giddiness in your voice shining through. You were standing ridiculously close to her with your hand on the wall behind her, right above her head. You were smiling as wide as you possibly could and Ellie couldn’t help the smile on her face that grew each moment she was in your presence.
“Looking for you, obviously.” She teased, eyeing you up and down causing you to giggle into the crook of your neck. Her hand moved up to pinch at your waist, her eyes now steady on yours.
“Aw, look who’s all confident after fucking me.” Your smirk, coupled with the already free flowing alcohol in her system, caused her to laugh. “We’ll see how confident you are after my turn.”
Ellie swore you were going to kiss her, and you almost had if it wasn’t for your name being called behind you by your friends who gestured at you to come. You turned to look at them and nodded before you turned back to Ellie.
“We’re going to another party? Want to come with?” You asked, hoping you didn’t sound as desperate as you felt.
Ellie sighed, looking around the room for Dina but seeing no sight of her. What Ellie did know was that Dina wouldn’t leave the house without her, and it was an unspoken rule that she would never leave the party without Dina. She wanted to leave with you, but girlcode takes priority.
“I can’t.” She responded. “I’m with friends and I can’t leave them.” Ellie hates to admit this, but she took great pride at the sight of your face falling.
“Oh well, see you Monday.” You somberly replied, waving goodbye and running to join your friends.
“See you Monday.” Ellie said under her breath, practically to herself as you were already out of sight.
Ellie found herself upstairs after that, searching for Dina and Jesse so she could go home. However, she found someone she wasn’t looking for, or rather, they found her.
A cold hand tapped Ellie’s shoulder, causing her to turn around in relief that Dina had found her.
“Dina, thank go-” Her words got caught in her throat as she saw her ex standing in front of her with a sickly sweet smile on her face.
“Ellie! So good to see you, I see the tattoo is healing?” She began, ignoring the dirty look Ellie was throwing her way.
“What do you want, Cat?” Ellie spat. It was evident that Cat wasn’t being nice, and Ellie wanted her to get to the point.
“Well, I just wanted to say how cute it was that you would flirt with my ex to make me jealous.” She disclosed, the smile on her face strong.
“I wasn’t trying to ma-”
“It worked, I’m jealous.” She simply stated, moving closer to Ellie. Ellie was frozen, never in a million years would she ever think that Cat would be saying any of this. She leaned in close to whisper in Ellie’s ear.
“Swing by my dorm room tomorrow, my roommates are gone for the weekend.” She pulled away from Ellie, smiled again, and patted her on the chest before walking away back into the party.
And to be completely honest, Ellie wasn’t sure what she was going to do.
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x reader smut#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fan fic#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams oneshot#modern!ellie williams#college!ellie williams#ellie williams one shot
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siphon, part four
john price x f!reader part one | two | three | four ~2.3k words cw: kidnapping, implied stalking, dubcon/noncon oral, blood, violence, gore, death
An opportunity arises more than a month into your 'stay'.
"I'm takin' off for a few hours," John announces.
The dishes in the sink rattle beneath the dropped scrub brush. You tuck your chin to your shoulder and glance back. "Oh?"
He stands in the mouth of the hall in a jacket, thumbing through a keyring. "Got an errand."
The question forms instantly, but you hold it back for fear of appearing too eager. Returning to the dishes, you finish rinsing a plate and set it on the drying rack. Behind you, you listen to him putter between the den and the kitchen.
"I assume I'm staying here?"
John hasn't left you alone since you woke up in the backseat of his truck, head splitting. Since then, you've studied the cabin, inside and out. Wherever you are, the location is remote, thickly wooded, and mountainous. A minimum of an hour outside of the city. It's clear he took great pains to ensure you remain indoors. Although he's yet to employ the many security measures beyond the locks on doors and windows, you've observed an alarm panel. You've seen the gun. Then there is his favorite method of control - his sheer physicality. John's built, solid, and efficient. From the books on history, war, politics, and self-sufficiency, your working theory is he's former military. There is no need for a leash when he can outrun you.
He doesn't answer.
You turn to face him, untying the ridiculously frilly apron you might've thought was cute if a boyfriend had given it to you—not your kidnapper. Captivity has a way of killing romance.
His eyes fixate on your hands loosening the garment, and you watch as he selects two keys from the ring by feeling alone. The keys are simple brass, two different sizes. He plays with them idly, evidently lost in some sick domestic fantasy. You stare at them a moment longer – oh. You know where the keys go.
With his preternatural instincts, John returns to earth, raking his eyes from your form as you hang the apron. You cannot stem the burgeoning panic mounting in your chest.
"Sweetheart–"
"No."
As if you have a say.
John considers you, his gaze light and careful when he glances at the kitchen around you, but it settles heavily upon your person. He cracks his neck and pushes the key ring back into his pocket.
"Care to repeat yourself?" He echoes.
You inch to the right. Steps away, a pair of kitchen shears sits. Tonguing your lip, you reach for a reason—any reason—to let him hear reason. "I'll be good. Cuff me to the couch, lock me in the bathroom…Please. Don't put me back in there."
He tracks your movement. He tracks everything. "Not how it works, 'm afraid. C'mere."
This isn't how it is supposed to go. Maybe fucking John didn't grant you the access you thought it would, but it is supposed to make him believe you housebroken. Amicable to whatever plans he has for you, which, you know, he has. He's ruining your plans. Ruining everything.
"Please, I'll-"
"This is not a negotiation. Now come here." He beckons.
A petulant anger flares in your belly. Asking John into your body every night is supposed to mean something. If he puts you back in the kennel, it's all been for naught. He acts as if it's beyond his control, that he didn't contrive the entirety of this nightmare. It shatters something inside of you.
With the force you pull the shears out, the utensil holder cracks on the counter. John curses, closing the distance in three giant steps, and you fight a losing battle. He wrenches them out of your hand, tosses them, and drags you by the hair. You kick and slap with your free hand, but with a cruel rip of his hand, you feel hair come away.
He hauls you down the short corridor. Your breaths come in quick gasps as panic claws its way up your throat. You bark and fight like a stray dog on the business end of a catch-all. It's fruitless.
"Fuck you!"
"Later."
John fishes the keys out, unlocks the room, throws you into it, and slams the door behind him. You bolt into the corner. He ignores you while he opens the cage.
"Now," He points a finger at the entrance.
It isn't fair.
"I'm going to kill you." You blurt out.
John looks unimpressed, sighing. He advances slowly. There is no gentleness in his posture.
"Fuck you." You repeat in a hiss, tensing for the fight you know you'll lose.
His frustration laces with undisguised lust. "Say 'fuck you' again. It sounds like an invitation."
It's inexorable – he violently collects you as if for a dance in the kitchen. You glare through the bars, and he closes the padlock. You both breathe heavier. His hand lingers on the door, and you see the faint imprint of your teeth on the webbing.
"Let's see how much fight you've got left when I come back, hm?"
You lunge for his hand, eager for another bite.
He draws back in time, and his laughter cracks like a whip. "I love you, sweetheart. Nothing you do will change that." He brushes himself off and admires your sulking. "And I've got all the time in the world to change your mind. You'll love me.”
The cabin falls into silence with his departure. You hold yourself tight and take deep breaths. You need to focus. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You could've rolled over and let him lock you up for a couple of hours. But no, you flipped the chessboard like a fucking idiot.
A dripping noise coaxes your eyes to the water bottle. There's a crack in the plastic between the nozzle and the body. Probably broke when he threw you in here. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, reaching for the comfort of sleep. The REM cycle evades you most nights, what with the monster snoring in your ear over your shoulder.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Water erodes even the most solid foundations, and you haven't had the luxury of stability in weeks. You grab the dispenser with both hands and pry it from its fastenings. It hurts your hands and takes more energy than you'd like, but it comes loose, and the plastic zip ties snap. Cursing the damned thing out, you hurl it awkwardly through the cage. It doesn't travel far. Doesn't feel as triumphant as you'd've hoped. A stream of water pools from its belly as it bleeds out on its side.
A despairing voice wishes it were you.
~~
Your mouth is dry when he fetches you.
"I'm sorry."
John's grip is ironclad. His face pinches in mild confusion as he helps you from the kennel before a smug smile replaces it.
"What for?"
"Being difficult," You murmur, stretching your legs. "Breaking the water bottle"
"You're a fuckin' brat," He corrects, pointing to the plastic and metal and slurs into your temple. He reeks of whiskey. "Pick it up. Then do the dishes."
You follow him out into the kitchen and suppress a groan. Your stomach grumbles, smelling the late dinner he cooked for himself when he returned and before he let you out. Beside the sink, your destination, sits a tin of tuna singled out from the others. You open and eat the bland fish before he changes his mind. You fill the sink with warm water and soap and start in on the chore.
John sits in the living room, well within view, smoking a cigar. The stink carries in your direction, cutting through the sterile scent of the dish soap.
For a few minutes, the silence sits like a third person in the room, occasionally interrupted by the clinking of a dish and the dipping of the brush in the water.
"I'm in a better mood," He starts out of nowhere.
You strain to listen, gauging whether it's a conversation or a soliloquy, and then dunk the cracked bottle, massaging the pliable material and working it under the suds.
"I grabbed a pint and told some folks about my woman troubles," he snorts, laughing at his own joke. I got some good advice."
The image of John holding court at some smoky bar comes uninvited. What lies did he tell his fellow patrons? That his 'girlfriend' threw a fit and stepped out of line?
Beneath the water, the plastic cracks within your tight grip. Your arm jerks, sloshing a smattering of bubbles onto the counter. You swiftly clean up after yourself and move on to drying.
"Leave 'em in the rack." John orders, rising from the armchair in the dark of the living room, leaving his cigar to burn out on the ashtray.
You fumble in surprise at his steps. Should be used to it by now. You hurry with the dish towel. "John, there's only–"
"Now."
His tone brooks no argument, not that you were in a position to dare. Swallowing thick, you abandon the chore half-complete and slink into his arms. John bullies you down the hall, grabbing handfuls of your ass. "Told me to be nice to you, eat your cunt a bit." He sighs into your hair, nudging the bedroom door open with a foot.
You don't fight him or gravity and fall back on the mattress.
John looms, eyeing you like a second dinner. Leaves the light on to see every gruesome detail. He makes short work of your jeans and rubs your calves appreciatively before discarding your underwear.
"So I'm giving you a freebie, just this once. I upset you," he explains and kisses your thighs. “You thought you were ready, but have you ever heard of the three-three-three rule, darling?"
"N-No," You stammer when he pinches for an answer.
"Three days, three weeks, three months. The three most important dates when bringing a dog into a home. Though, by my estimates, it's been working just as well for you."
John chuckles before delving into your heart. The lurch in your belly barely beats out nausea.
Three months. You'd rather die.
The sharp jab in your chest demands freedom.
You let him lose himself. It's easy. He's eaten you out for hours before. You carefully disguise your movements as enthusiasm. You shove your shirt up and over your bra, fondling yourself, discreetly withdrawing the nozzle you broke off of the water bottle in the sink.
Dread and anticipation mix, making you tremble and quake. John, of course, thinks it's all him. It is, in a way. You prop yourself up on your elbows, meeting his eyes briefly when he opens them to take in the parting of your lips.
"John, please," You beg, threading one hand through his short hair.
His eyes shut in focus, humming gleefully, and he doesn't see you coming on either front.
Swinging with everything left, you stab the sharp, concave end of the nozzle into his neck. It sinks in like his windpipe wants it. You both jerk, you with relief and him with a pained, wet scream. It's messy. Blood blooms around his fingers where he clutches the metal. You drag your jellied legs across the bed as he stands, stumbling forward to grab you with a desperate and angry hand.
At his best, you cannot outrun him. Bleeding profusely from the neck? Tips the scales. You book it to the door and the hall, and he comes crashing after you. Adrenaline and pure fucking fear hurl you down to the kitchen. You skid to a halt on the linoleum and lunge for the drawers from which you've seen him draw knives.
John's steps are haphazard and clumsy, but the full weight of his body is behind each one. He thunders down the hall, slurring, trying to push out words. It all comes out in bellows. A dying animal. Seeing you grab a cook's knife, he stumbles, pausing at the threshold of the corridor. Locking eyes, he reaches for the metal tube stuck in his throat instead. He gurgles something that roughly sounds like you bitch.
"I wouldn't do that." You half-heartedly warn, brandishing the knife.
He wrenches it out anyway, hand slapping to the hole immediately after, but there's too much blood. It's too slick. Red sprays. More than you thought.
John makes it one step before he slowly slumps to the ground, and you stalk closer, giving a wide berth with the blade in hand. He sags back to the wall, feebly pressing thick fingers against the gaping wound in his neck. It's useless. You know it. He knows it.
You crouch, naked from the waist down. Even now, he ogles, the shitstain.
"Do you need help, John?"
His eyes narrow, struggling to focus. The blue looks flatter. Vacant.
A genuine smile splits your face.
"Why don't you just ask?"
~~
The truck dies just off the forestry road. Of course. At least hell is in the rearview.
The sun is barely above the horizon, and John's phone still can't get a signal. Cursing him out, you slip the rucksack full of supplies you found while raiding the cabin. You could've grabbed more but couldn't stay there any longer. You pussyfooted over the gun, ultimately deciding it wasn't worth the energy to find the right key or pry the door open. Not for a weapon you've never used before. Finding your shoes was the best discovery apart from the truck keys and his phone. You'll need them for the walk.
It's almost an hour before you hear a car. You hook a thumb, walking forward, staring intently at the bend in the road ahead. Seconds later, an old, two-seater pick-up appears, and though it takes a moment for it to stop, they do.
You clamber towards the driver’s side window as it rolls down.
“Need a ride?”
“Yes, please. My truck died. Can I get a ride to town?”
“‘Course. What’s your name?”
Giddy and relieved, you give your name as you toss the bag into the open bed.
“What’s yours?” You ask, smoothing a hand over your forehead.
Your unwitting rescuer smiles. Jesus, he’s handsome.
“Kyle.”
#john price x f!reader#john price x reader#john price x you#price x f!reader#price x reader#price x you#cw violence#cw kidnapping#cw noncon#cw blood#cw death#darkfic#read the content warnings for the love of all things#got whatever that was out of my system
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Can we get a part three of This with riddle and Ruggie?? Thank you! 💜 it's fine if you can't do it btw!
SUMMARY: Someone's picked a fight with Prefect! But he isn't going to let anyone hurt you anymore. Not on his watch. Part 3! Part 1 w/ Cater and Azul can be found here, and part 2 w/ Vil and Silver can be found here.
WARNING: Riddle calls someone a coward. Also the words idiot and jerk are in his part. People get hurt in Ruggie’s part but it isn’t really gory or anything
COMMENTS: I’m so sorry this took so long, my hands have been in a lot of pain the past couple months and are only starting to get better 🥲 I hope you enjoy it! Ruggie and Riddle were super good ideas for this prompt, this was so much fun to write! Thank you for the request! Also, if anyone has any ideas for more characters they’d like for this series, feel free to send in a request!
It must be raining.
You were just out in a storm. That’s all.
That would explain the crack of thunder that collided with your face and gave you a throbbing headache. The warm liquid blurring your vision and dripping out of your mouth and nose was just the rain, not some unholy mix of blood and tears. The chills that froze you where you stood was just humidity and the cold, not adrenaline and raw fear.
And yet, even with your desperate brain trying to come up with some reasonable explanation, the only thunderstorm you could see in front of you was a student you couldn’t recognise. Not with your head pounding like this. Not with the thunder in your ears.
There was something about the boy that scared you. That wasn’t uncommon - this school was full of terrifyingly promising mages. But the scariest thing wasn’t how he wielded his magical pen with deadly accuracy, or how strong he so evidently was.
It was just how much he seemed to be enjoying the mix of horror and pain, of blood and tears, that must have been so evidently and delicately splashed across your face.
His smile twisted as he raised his pen again, something in those cruel eyes of his setting off alarm signals in your aching head.
“This’ll teach you not to meddle where you don’t belong.”
The pen glowed, pure magic surrounding it as he prepared to shoot. His sadistic eyes were alight with entertainment. He knew what he was about to do. He didn’t care.
You squeeze your eyes shut and braced for the lightning.
“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”
Your eyes snapped open just in time to see the lightning, arcing gracefully yet violently through the air.
Aiming straight for your assailant’s neck.
“What the- hey! Get this thing off of me!” The boy snapped, tugging at the heart shaped collar that had just appeared around his neck.
“I most certainly will not!”
Spinning around, you saw two boys making their way towards you. One was tall with short green hair, glasses, and a familiar symbol - a club - painted just below his left eye. He looked worried, his gaze flicking from you, to your assailant, to his companion and back again.
The second boy made your heart skip a beat.
His small frame shook with rage. His face, twisted with anger, had become as red as his hair. He marched straight past you, heading towards your assailant, his magical pen gripped tightly in his hand.
Uh oh.
The moment Riddle Rosehearts decides to get involved, heads roll.
“How dare you?!” He yelled. “Using magic in a fight is a clear violation of the rules! Did you think you could just shamelessly flaunt your rule-breaking and expect me not to see it?! And attacking the magic-less prefect of all people! If you really must break the rules, at least fight someone on an equal footing as you, coward!”
The courtyard was dead silent as Riddle verbally ripped into the student, chewing him out for several rule violations and other discourtesies.
“But the prefect started it-!” Your assailant protested.
“I don’t know what history you and the prefect may have, but in this instance you attacked without provocation and without warning!” Riddle huffed. “And don’t try to lie to me. I saw the whole thing.”
The boy visibly deflated. There was no getting out of this for him.
“I want to see your student ID. Now.” Riddle ordered.
The boy sighed, pulled his ID out of his bag and handed it to Riddle.
“Ah, Pomefiore, hm? Be thankful you’re not in Heartslabyul,” he snapped, handing the ID back to the student. “Although,” he added, “Vil Schoenheit is certainly not the most lenient of housewardens. He will deal with you appropriately.”
You felt a hand rest on your shoulder. Looking up, you realised Trey Clover had stopped next to you.
He gave you a small, strained smile. “Are you alright, Prefect?”
Riddle glanced back over at you, a little startled. It appeared he had forgotten you were here.
“I’m alright… I think.” You managed, sending both the dormleader and vice-dormleader a smile.
Riddle’s face somehow got even redder and he looked away. You would’ve thought it almost funny if the world hadn’t started spinning. You quickly grabbed Trey’s arm to steady yourself.
“Maybe not.” You added.
Trey reached over to support you. “Riddle, you know more first aid than I do. I’ll take him to Pomefiore and explain the situation to Vil, but maybe you should take care of the Prefect or something?”
“Very well.” Riddle made his way over to you, reaching out to support you. He gently led you over to a bench and pulled out a handkerchief.
“Please pardon me, I’m going to administer first aid to you now.” He spoke stiffly. You nodded dazedly, and then felt a pang of regret as your headache tripled in intensity. You focused on breathing steadily as he cleaned the blood from your face and examined your injuries.
“You’ll have a couple of bruises, but nothing serious, thankfully.” He sighed in relief and instructed you to apply pressure to your nose and angle your head downwards to stem the bleeding.
Slowly but surely, the bleeding stopped. Riddle sat with you quietly the entire time, silently supporting you. You got the impression that he didn’t quite know what to say or do, and just how close you both were wasn’t helping matters. That was alright, though. Just having him here was enough.
“Prefect…” Riddle spoke so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d spoken. He was looking away from you, his face a light pink colour. He seemed embarrassed.
“What’s up?”
Riddle took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. “I… apologise for losing my temper back there. And also for not arriving and stopping him sooner. I’m truly sorry.”
You stared at him for a moment, then cracked a smile. “It’s alright. Although it would’ve been nice not to get hurt in the first place, it’s not your fault at all. You aren’t the idiot who tried to hurt me anyway.”
Riddle flinched at your ‘swear’. “Prefect!”
You grinned mischievously. “Wha-at? There’s no rule against calling someone an idiot, is there? Besides, you called him a coward earlier. If I’m going to get in trouble for calling someone an idiot then you should get in trouble for calling someone a coward.”
Riddle smiled and shook his head, his cheeks slightly pink. “Well then, I suppose I’ll have to watch my tongue. As Heartslabyul dorm leader, I simply must set a good example for my dorm members. Which means I must refrain from calling people… jerks.”
You gasped and clapped your hand over your mouth, trying so hard not to burst out laughing. “Riddle!”
His eyes lit up as you said his name. He looked at you so gently, so lovingly as you struggled not to laugh that you felt your face going warm.
Wouldn’t it be nice to stay like this forever….?
A yell of pain shot through the air, wrenching your eyes open in fear. Stumbling backwards, you drank in the scene in front of you before realising in horror what had happened.
Someone had jumped in front of you.
A beastman, to be more specific.
The boy stood protectively in front of you, breathing hard, hackles raised. He had dirty blond hair and an outfit much too big for him. His right hand was gripped tightly around his magical pen, his left was holding his right shoulder. Blood was beginning to fall at his feet.
Wait, blood?
Scanning him again quickly and you saw them: shards of ice crystals stuck out of his shoulder at every angle. Your stomach twisted and you felt the bile rise in the back of your throat.
“Prefect, go!”
“But-“
The boy turned at you and snarled. “Run!”
You stumbled backwards, stunned. A spell - another gift from your assailant - flew by your ear. Scrambling backwards, you cast your eyes around to find a place to hide.
There!
Sprinting over and sliding into the hiding spot, you peaked your head around and watched.
It was brutal.
The boy who saved you - the boy you now recognise as your crush, Ruggie Bucchi - fought viciously, yet his opponent was not the kind to give up easily. For every spell Ruggie had, this boy somehow managed to dodge or deflect almost every single one of them, and fire off a few of his own.
Come on, Ruggie. You thought. Please be okay.
Ripping your gaze from the fight, you pulled a packet of wipes from your bag and forced yourself to clean your wounds. Anything to distract from what was going on.
After all, there was no way you could help. You were magicless after all, so it was probably best to just leave things to those who could fight, right?
…Right?
A yell of pain forced your attention back on the fight. Both boys were now breathing hard, blood strewn across the courtyard. From the looks of things, neither boy could beat the other. Ruggie couldn’t break a hole in his defence and the other boy could barely hit Ruggie, who was sprinting and dodging like his life depended on it.
“Stay still, mutt!” The boy snapped, firing off spell after spell.
Ruggie didn’t even respond. His concentration remained on dodging and finding a weak point, but your assailant didn’t leave him time to cast a spell.
He just needed an opening.
Steeling yourself, you grabbed a rock and snuck around the two of them. You adjusted your grip on the rock.
Please, don’t let this hit anyone. You prayed, then stepped out into the open.
“HEY DIPSTICK, OVER HERE!” You yelled as loud as you could and then hurled the rock in his direction.
The boy whirled around and deflected the rock with magic in an instant. Seeing you, he seized his chance and prepared to fire off another spell. You squeezed your eyes tight and held your hands in front of your face.
“Laugh with me!”
No spell came. Opening your eyes, you saw the boy in front of you, clearly angry. He walked towards you rigidly, as if he was trying to do anything but that. He pulled his student ID out of his bag and handed it to you.
Then he turned around and walked away. Your eyes followed him as he walked a ways off, then stopped.
The boy whirled around, his magical pen aimed directly at you and began to cast-
And then was immediately knocked off his feet from a blast of wind magic.
Someone grabbed your arm. “C’mon Prefect, now’s when we run-“
Ruggie ran hard, tugging you along with him as you dodged through crowds of people, eventually slowing to a stop in front of some empty classrooms.
You gasped for breath and put your hands on your knees, trying to recover from your sprint. Glancing up, you saw Ruggie leaning against the wall, breathing hard.
He looked awful.
His shoulder looked worse, his uniform was singed and he smelled of smoke. He had countless scratches and scrapes. Yet despite all this, he caught your eye and smiled painfully.
“What… whatcha starin’ at, Prefect?” He panted, clearly exhausted.
“Your shoulder…” you managed. His smile fell and he shrugged - then grimaced.
“‘S fine. Don’t need to worry, shishish-“ he cursed and winced.
You walked over to him and looked him over. His face was ever so slightly pink as he looked away. He shook slightly as you tugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.
Pulling out your packet of wipes, you looked up at him. “This okay?”
He glanced at you briefly, his face still pink, his ears flat against his head. He looked away again. “‘S whatever.” He mumbled.
You gently cleaned up his cuts and scrapes. Looking at his shoulder injury, you sighed. “I can’t do anything about that one. I’m taking you to the nurse’s office.”
“But-“ he protested, but fell silent when you cut him off.
“No buts. That’s serious, Ruggie. I’ll buy you doughnuts if you let me take you.” You added, hoping the bribe would work.
He hesitated, then smiled at you. “Fine. Shishishi, if I didn’t know better, I’d guess you’d care for me or somethin’.”
You simply stared at him.
He went red. “P-prefect-? Got somethin’ you wanna say? Haha…”
“Come on,” you said with a smile and a sigh. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”
“Okay.”
What a dummy. You thought as you pulled him along. I think I love him.
♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
#Rhea’s TWST fics~!#twisted wonderland#Riddle Rosehearts#TWST#TWST x reader#TWST fanfic#riddle rosehearts x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#ruggie bucci x reader#rheasks!#twst fluff#Ruggie bucchi#riddle x reader#Ruggie x reader
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imagine no war!!! remus after hogwarts decides to go to university, meets a muggle and falls head over heels but doesn't think he's good enough for her (w his condition on top of being a wizard and poor) but he brings her to meet the marauders anyway because they keep asking to meet the person he won't shut up about, maybe harry's birthday or just a pub outing or whatever??? he's nervous she'll fancy sirius but it's quite clear to everyone the second they meet that she clearly only has heart eyes for remus and the gang are like are you insane she's CLEARLY smitten with you and it literally takes everyone he knows to point it out for him to think he might even have a chance but is still floored when she's like "remus, i adore you, i've adored you from the moment we met" bc goddammit he deserves to be loved like that!!!
𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞
Masterlist<3
Summary: The request sums it up, read it hoe Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader Warnings: Alcohol consumption and that's all I can think abt hehe Word Count: 4.5K (i'm sorry) Requested: Yes
A/N: I'm absolutely sobbing. This is so cute!!! I'm using the Reggie was a spy for the order wild card and roll with that. Tysm for this awesome idea, nonnie! And sorry it took so long.
Remus knew magic existed, the type of magic that opens doors, gives you luck or disarms someone. But until he met her, he didn't know there was a type of magic that could be contained in someone's eyes, someone's smile, or even in that little quirk she had of squinting every time she focused.
Y/N Y/L/N. Even her name felt like the sweetest honey when it rolled off your tongue and into the air, he figured. She was a new kind of magic and Remus was hooked from the get go. They had met on a rather peculiar set of circumstances. When Moony first got to college, he had no friends or anyone nearby to help him cope with the abrupt transition. The boys visited as much as they could, but it'd be for about an hour or two before they had to go back to the ministry.
So, as he did when he arrived at Hogwarts, Remus found solace in reading and taking his wolfsbane at appropriate times. He was doing a classics mayor and reading the Plato classics was a convenient way to kill time while doing something productive. The boy spent hours in the library, sitting on the couches or getting some annotations done on the desks; he'd be done with the school's classics collection before the semester was over if he kept that pace.
He would have if he hadn't found those notes. Remus first noticed them in a worn copy of a compilation from a specific period of Plato's scripts, the third page in Philebus. "Socrates is being very reductive. I don't like it. Out of character, I do declare" written in red ink, cursive letters delicate in the ripped white paper.
He giggled at that, his thoughts exactly. Moony picked the piece of paper and examined it to see if it had any indications of who might've written it, but he found nothing. He only knew that the person who wrote it had a ruined red pen; the stains of ink sitting messily on the opposite side of the annotation. Remus was a sucker for mystery stories and he viewed this as an opportunity of having one of his own!
A short-lived one, since he cracked the case when a pretty girl on his history of philosophy class asked around for a red pen. Remus frantically but quietly rummaged through his satchel and found one just in time.
He rushed to her, offering it out “Here” he smiled, looking down at her as she looked up at him. “Thanks… Remus isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. Y/N Y/L/N”. Y/N introduced herself, offering her hand out. Stained in red. The boy stared shocked at the realization this was the person he’d been looking for.
“Oh shit m’sorry, it looks like I committed a murder or something. My pen started leaking yesterday while I was studying in the library” She laughed and Remus swore he’d faint if he hadn’t gripped her hand. “Actually…” Remus started, searching in his pocket for the piece of paper he kept, when he finally found it, he showed it to her and a smile broke on those pretty lips.
“…I hope you don’t mind! I-I kept it. Been looking for you, it made me laugh” He admitted, handing it to her “You found me then! And, you’re very much welcome to keep it, Remus” Y/N grinned and Remus mirrored her expression sweetly. They met for coffee the next day. The day after that, they studied together. And the week after, they shared lunch.
About two months after they talked for the first time, they had gone on a date every single week. From museum outings to walks around campus if one of them didn't have much time. They also sat together in philosophy and, turns out, literature (which they realized they shared after).
Y/N gifted him a cool rock once, and he kissed her.
He kept the rock in his pocket ever since.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
"Come on, mate, you gotta tell us who she is!" James exclaimed, his excitement palpable as he repeatedly patted the worn wooden bar in the cozy pub they had agreed to meet at. Remus chuckled and shook his head, a fond smile dancing on his lips as he took another sip of his whiskey.
"You've been talking non-stop about her since you two met! The last three times we've seen each other, it's been Y/N this, Y/N that. We've gotta meet the missus," Sirius playfully teased, giving Remus a light shove with his shoulder.
Rolling his eyes playfully, Remus glanced at his friends, grateful for their persistent curiosity but also hesitant to share too much. "Oh, Pads, don't call her that! We're not even official yet, and I doubt we'll ever be. She'll find someone, alright, but I'm just good old Remus," he replied, a hint of wistfulness shadowing his gaze.
It was true; good old Remus had learned how to stop caring about what other people thought of him, but that didn't mean he was entirely confident about who he was.
Navigating the Muggle world presented its own set of challenges for Remus. He knew that at some point, he would have to confront the whole "Hey, I'm a wizard, and there's this whole other world you don't know about, hope you don't mind!" situation with Y/N.
Then there were the lingering money issues that weighed on his mind. College was not cheap, but he had managed to secure a decent scholarship, which alleviated some of the burden. He hoped Y/N wouldn't care about his financial situation. And, of course, there was the delicate matter of revealing his true nature as a literal werewolf. How would she react when she found out?
Yeah.
He was good old Remus: poor Remus, monster Remus, scarred Remus, wizard Remus. If he were honest with himself, he was surprised they had made it past the first day, considering he had stupidly worn a short-sleeved t-shirt without anything to conceal the telltale signs of his condition.
But she noticed the perceptive and kind-hearted soul that she was, and she chose not to mention it. In that moment, Remus couldn't help but imagine the possibilities, but he also knew that reality had a way of reminding him of his limitations. Moony knew he would never be able to claim her as his own. Not in this lifetime, not in the next.
For now, he chose to cherish the moments they shared, basking in her laughter and marveling at the way her hair defied gravity with its radiant beauty. She was his bit of magic in a world that often seemed devoid of it. Deep down, however, he couldn't shake the nagging certainty that good things didn't last for boys like him—boys with tragedy coursing through their veins.
"Yeah, no. We're not doing this shit again," Sirius declared, shaking his head in disagreement. Remus's best friends had grown accustomed to his self-deprecating tendencies and were determined to lift his spirits. Remus might have been a mysterious figure to some, but to the Marauders, he was an open book, their brother.
"That's why she likes you, mate. You're good old amazing, lovely, smart, hot Remus!" James proclaimed with a boisterous cheer, pulling Remus into a tight embrace. "Tell you what, bring her to Harry's birthday party this weekend! I'm sure Lily won't mind," he suggested, his mischievous grin widening. Sirius enthusiastically chimed in, nodding in agreement. "Just ask her first and let me know, okay? I don't want Harry to have a bad time becaus-"
"Oh, Moons, the party is more for us than for him! He'll be out like a light by eight, and we'll get wasted like we always do," Prongs interjected, his infectious laughter filling the air, causing Remus to join in, his worries momentarily forgotten in the camaraderie of his friends.
There was no way out of this one, not that he sought an escape. Remus couldn't blame his best friends for their eagerness to meet Y/N. They knew him better than anyone, and they could see the spark of happiness she had ignited within him. Moony did little to hide his excitement, his heart fluttering with the hope that maybe, just maybe, things would work out.
Now, he just needed Lily's approval so he could gather the courage to ask the girl who had captivated his heart to accompany him to the birthday celebration—a step that held the promise of a new chapter in his life, one filled with both joy and uncertainty
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Remus nervously fiddled with the corner of his book, stealing glances at Y/N across the library. The soft rays of afternoon sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting a warm, golden glow on the rows of ancient tomes and the elegant wooden shelves that lined the room. But in that moment, all Remus could see was Y/N, a radiant presence amidst the tranquil surroundings.
Summoning his courage, Remus took a deep breath and approached her table. The scent of old parchment mingled with the delicate fragrance of her perfume, creating an intoxicating blend that filled his senses. As he neared, he couldn't help but notice the way her eyes sparkled with intelligence and curiosity as she immersed herself in the world of words. Her hair cascaded down in gentle waves, its hue reminiscent of auburn leaves in autumn, and he found himself captivated by the way it framed her face, enhancing her natural beauty.
"Hey, love," Remus greeted her with a warm smile, trying his best to appear at ease. "Mind if I join you for a moment?"
Y/N looked up, a surprised yet welcoming expression crossing her features. Her eyes met Remus's, and a playful glimmer danced within their depths. She gestured to the seat across from her, her voice laced with gentle humor. "Well, if you insist. But only if you promise not to distract me from my riveting studies."
Remus chuckled, grateful for her light-hearted response. He took the offered seat, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I'll do my best to behave, I promise," he replied, a twinkle in his own eyes. "But I do have something on my mind that I wanted to ask you."
Y/N raised an eyebrow. Her curiosity piqued. "Oh, really? Well, go on then. I'm all ears."
"There's a little someone's birthday coming up this weekend," Remus began, his voice filled with playful anticipation. "Harry, James' adorable son, is turning two years old. And, well, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me to the party."
Y/N's face lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight, her smile contagious. "Are you asking me to crash a toddler's birthday party? That sounds like a dangerous proposition," she teased, her tone lighthearted.
Remus laughed, his nerves easing with every moment of their easy banter. "Well, I can promise you that the party will be more entertaining than dangerous," he quipped, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "There'll be cake, balloons, and probably a fair amount of chaos. It's a chance to embrace your inner child if you want to look at it that way."
Y/N pretended to consider it, her finger tapping against her chin. "Hmm, cake, balloons, and chaos? You make a compelling case," she replied, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "How can I resist? Count me in, darling. I'd love to celebrate with you and your mates."
Remus couldn't contain his happiness, his relief flooding through him like a warm wave. "Brilliant!" he exclaimed, a genuine excitement coloring his voice. "I can't wait for you to meet everyone, t-they insisted I brought the girl I don't shut up about to the party"
Y/N smiled at that, holding Remus's hand over the table. "So you've talked to your friends about me?" "Oh shut it" He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Right before those grey clouds of self deprecation repeating "this won't last" and "enjoy it before she realizes what you truly are" clouded his mind.
He shoved the thoughts away, holding to Y/N's smile against his lips as if it was an anchor saving him from drowning.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.
He really did try to plan it all neatly. From what he'd wear to how he'd introduced her to his friends. Remus even asked them to keep the magic discreet since it was all too soon for that conversation, but for fuck's sake; it all got thrown out the window when he saw her in low waisted flared pants and his Bowie shirt. "H-hey!" He smiled, almost yelling, but she just laughed at his enthusiasm.
"Hi Rem," she sighed, leaving a kiss on the corner of his lips which she left lingering a bit too long. "Ready?" "As I'll ever be!". As Y/N and Remus walked hand in hand, the excitement in the air was palpable. However, beneath her playful demeanor, Y/N couldn't shake the nerves that fluttered in her stomach. Meeting Remus's best friends felt like stepping into a new world, and the fear of not fitting in or being accepted gnawed at her.
She stole a quick glance at Remus, hoping he wouldn't notice the physical manifestations of her anxiety. The last thing she wanted was to burden him with her own inner turmoil. But even as she tried to compose herself, her voice wavered slightly as she spoke.
"Remus, I can't deny that I'm feeling a bit... off," she admitted, her words stumbling over her nervousness. "My heart feels like it's racing a marathon, and there's this knot in my stomach that just won't loosen. I hope it's not too obvious." Remus turned his head towards her, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. His eyes sparkled with warmth and understanding.
"Hey, I get it," he said, his tone comforting. "Meeting new people can be nerve-wracking, and our bodies have interesting ways of letting us know. But you know what? You're doing great, sweetheart, and I'm here with you. We'll take it one step at a time, and I promise we'll have a good time together. So, let's embrace the adventure, nerves and all, and see what the night has in store for us, okay?"
Y/N nodded thankfully, the knot loosening up a little. “Thanks baby”. The world stopped in Remus’ perspective at the pet name but he just nodded and kissed her cheek. He helped. He was a warm blanket after a long day even when moments like those weren’t happening. Comfort.
They eventually got to James’ place; the loud music coming from the two floor house making Y/N feel even more at ease. It radiated a warm, welcoming energy even before stepping in. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.
“Deep breath”. They both took a breath before approaching the door and knocking, the wine Remus’ plus one brought close to breaking with the force she was holding it with. A bright smile opened the door, hugging Remus immediately. “You have no idea how happy I am you’re here Moony”.
Y/N smiled sweetly at the nickname the boy had for his best mate. She didn’t know where it came from but James seemed to be the sun reflecting on the moon. On Moony. The girl knew Remus’ light was enough to outshine the sun itself, but the comparison seemed cute.
“You must be Y/N! He can’t shut up about you. Can I hug you? It’s okay if not, Sirius says I need to ask before hugging people but I just love it so much I cannot help myself” He rambled, making her giggle as she uttered a small ‘It’s okay’ and hugged the boy. She noticed Remus staring and just winked at him. “Is that cake I smell?” Y/N grinned, peeking inside before James stepped aside to let them both in.
“Yes, come inside! My wife, Lily, has just finished baking her chocolate cake recipe. It’s bloody brilliant! Harry’s favorite in his short lived culinary experience. You gotta meet him too!” Moony stayed behind, cherishing the way James’ warm welcome made Y/N feel a little more comfortable; her shoulders relaxed as well as her grip on the wine bottle.
He stepped in, hanging his coat on the rack he helped Lily choose when his best friends bought the house. Rapid steps came running down the stairs, and before he turned around, the smell of cigarettes and leather filled his nostrils. “Hello Pads” he smirked, hugging his friend tightly.
“Hey Moons! Did the missus come?” “Yes, she’s outside with James and Lily-“. He was cut short when his best friend, (his eyeliner wearing, muscled, rocker, tattooed, charming best friend) ran all the way into the garden to greet the girl. He was head over heels over.
A new feeling settled into his chest. An unpleasant one. Sirius was a dream. Remus was just good old Remus. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! He sighed heavily, ran a hand through his hair, and then covered his mouth. Y/N was not one to be too forward, but the way Sirius looked and acted could easily make her reconsider.
It got worse when he heard her loud laugh coming from the garden, followed by a chuckle that unmistakably came from Sirius. His best friend would never do it on purpose, but then again, his charm was never used on purpose. It just sort of happened. Remus sighed and walked outside to find the girl saying hi to Harry.
The toddler had his tiny hand wrapped around the girl's fingers, babbling incoherencies, as Y/N had a full conversation with him. "Are you sure?" she asked and Harry answered nonsense as the girl nodded back. She looked up at Remus coming through the sliding door. "Remus, he's the cutest thing I've ever seen!".
He laughed and walked over to her. The girl immediately wrapped her hands around his arm and hugged him tightly. James winked at Moony and went inside as the conversation ensued, Sirius teasing Remus about the girl he "brought home".
Soon, Y/N was well adapted to their friend's sense of humour and was joking around with Lily about how dumb they could all be. Despite Y/N's worries, it all went by smoothly. The one he got along with the most was James; he loved asking questions, and she loved answering them.
Remus had always loved her laugh; Seeing his best friends being the cause of it made it even better. "I'm telling you, he's insane!" Sirius laughed, bouncing his leg up and down as Harry sat on his lap giggling. "He's an absolute sweetheart" Y/N answered, kissing Remus' cheek as his best friends tried putting dirt (rightfully deserved dirt) on his name.
"Wait until you know him just a tiny bit better. You'll get to see his menacing self... got us in a shit ton of trouble back in school" James chuckled, making Remus roll his eyes and trying to divert her attention by asking if she wanted a bit more cake.
During their evening, Y/N kept a tight grasp on Remus’ hand while smiling at his friend’s jokes. When it was his turn to laugh, Sirius noticed how the girl looked intently over at Remus with a grin on her face. His eyes looked gorgeous in the sun with those little wrinkles when he giggled, she thought.
In that moment, she realized she wanted Remus to say her name as you’re supposed to say it; sleepily, with a mouth full of food, between laughters and in tears. Y/N saw the specks of brown in the amber colored lake that his eyes were and fell completely. Sirius saw it, James saw it, Lily saw it.
Even more when he turned to look down at her and wipe a bit of chocolate off her cheek, and she kept that look of utter adoration for him. “He’s gone” Lily mumbled to her husband. “She’s too” he agreed. Sirius smirked, getting up to get Harry to bed as he fell asleep on his uncle’s arms as the sun set.
James and Sirius were at the center of attention, regaling the group with a hilarious story from their time at school. Their voices were animated, and they gesticulated with enthusiasm, drawing everyone into their tale. Remus stood nearby, a mix of amusement and mild embarrassment evident on his face.
"And then, there was this one time at Hogwarts," James began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "when we decided to prank the entire Slytherin common room! We turned all their robes into neon pink ones!"
Sirius chimed in, laughter bubbling in his voice. "Oh, it was epic! They all looked like walking flamingos! The look on their faces was priceless!"
Y/N was thoroughly entertained by the story, but she couldn't help but notice Remus's subtle blush. She leaned closer to him and whispered teasingly, "Remus, were you part of this grand pink robe conspiracy too?"
Remus grinned, shaking his head. "I plead the fifth," he replied, trying to hide his amusement. "Let's just say those were wild times, and I may or may not have been an innocent bystander."
Y/N laughed, enjoying the playful banter. She was captivated by the camaraderie and genuine friendship between the group. As the evening continued, she found herself drawn into more anecdotes and laughter, feeling a sense of warmth and acceptance in their company.
Remus's friends made her feel welcome and included, and she couldn't help but feel grateful for being a part of this close-knit circle, even if she didn't know the full extent of their world. The nerves that had accompanied her earlier had transformed into excitement and a genuine desire to create new memories with Remus and his friends.
The feeling was reciprocated. Remus felt, and not on mere theory; the moment Y/N excused herself to go to the bathroom, his best friends started gushing to him about the girl. "Moony, she's in love" Sirius said between incredulous and joyous laugh "Oh Pad-" "Mate, I'm telling you... she looks at you like you hung the bloody stars!" now said James, Lily nodding pridefully "She looks at you just how James looked at me back in the day".
And Merlin did he want to believe them! He truly, really did. But instead, there was this empty feeling on his chest. There was no way Y/N Y/L/N looked at him in the way James looked at Lily; Almost scared of the joy she brought to him, like that pain in his heart would end up killing him and he'd quite literally die a happy man. So, when Remus dropped her off at her flat and turned his head before she'd kiss him on the mouth, the void went deeper.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Y/N couldn't sleep that night. Her mind was restless, thoughts of Remus swirling in her head like a tempest. She tossed and turned, replaying the events of the evening over and over again, each memory etching itself into her heart. There was no denying it anymore; she was utterly and completely in love with him.
The realization hit her like a wave crashing onto the shore, powerful and unstoppable; she was head over heels for Remus Lupin.
The next day, Y/N couldn't concentrate on anything. Her mind kept drifting back to Remus, like she'd could easily find herself absentmindedly doodling hearts and his name on the margins of her notebook. She needed to tell him; she couldn't keep this to herself any longer.
In the late afternoon, she gathered her courage and dialed his number, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for him to pick up. When he finally answered, his warm voice on the other end sent shivers down her spine.
"Hey, Remus," she began, trying to sound casual despite the turmoil inside her. "I was wondering if we could meet up later? There's something I want to talk to you about." Remus's response was filled with concern. "Of course, love. Is everything alright?" "Yes, everything's fine," she reassured him. "I just... I have something to tell you, something important."
He agreed to meet at their favorite cafe later that evening, and Y/N's heart fluttered with nervous excitement. The minutes leading up to their meeting felt like an eternity, but finally, the time came. When they sat down together, Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. Remus looked at her with those caring, gentle eyes, and she felt a rush of emotions wash over her.
"Remus," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I don't even know where to start. Y-you've brought so much magic into my life. From the moment we met, I felt something special, something I couldn't quite put into words."
He listened intently, his gaze never leaving hers.
"I've never felt this way before," she continued, her cheeks flushing with emotion. "You're like a beautiful enigma, a captivating mystery that I can't get enough of. You make me laugh, you make me feel safe and cherished, and every moment with you is a treasure. You've shown me a kind of magic that I never knew existed, a magic that exists in the little things, the stolen glances, the shared laughter, and the way you hold my hand. It's like you've cast a spell on me, and I never want it to end."
Remus's eyes softened, and a tender smile graced his lips. "Y/N, you're the most incredible person I've ever met," he replied, his voice filled with emotion. "From the moment I saw your ink-stained hands, I knew you were something special. You've brought light into my life, and I can't believe that someone as amazing as you could feel this way about me."
He reached across the table and took her hand in his, their fingers interlocking like two puzzle pieces, finding their perfect fit.
"I'm not good with grand gestures or flowery words," he said, his voice a whisper. "But I can tell you this: I care about you deeply, more than I ever thought possible. You make me happy like I never imagined I'd could feel. I've fallen in love with you, Y/N, and I can't believe my luck."
Y/N's heart soared, tiny tears of joy welling up in her eyes. "Oh, Remus," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm so in love with you too. You've shown me a kind of love I never knew existed, a love that feels like coming home. I cherish every moment with you, and I want to share my time with you, if you'll have me."
Without hesitation, Remus leaned across the table, closing the distance between them, and pressed a soft, tender kiss to her lips. It was a kiss filled with love and promise, sealing their feelings and intentions.
"I'd be honored to have you in my life, Y/N," he whispered against her lips. "You're my bit of magic in a world that can be harsh and uncertain, and I never want to let you go."
And so, in that cozy cafe, two souls found solace in each other's love. The world around them faded into the background as they basked in the enchantment of their newfound love, knowing that this kind of magic was unlike any other they had ever known. They had found something truly extraordinary in each other, a love that would stand the test of time and shine brighter than any star in the night sky.
˚ · • . ° .
It’s currently 12am and my brain isn’t working so i’ll just post this and place the word count in the morning.
Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!
Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3
NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.
#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin#remus lupin x you#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin smut#marauders era#the marauders era#the marauders#marauders fluff#marauders imagine#young!remus lupin x reader#remus x reader#harry potter marauders#marauders x reader
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i’m sorry duology
part one: i miss you, i’m sorry
part two: i love you, i’m sorry
What happens to a love neglected? Does the love simply fade away or does it twist and turn into something ugly and unrecognizable?
Elain and Azriel were high school sweethearts, and now they only know the faintest hint about each other’s life, tidbits their friends and family accidentally drop in conversations.
Elain left Velaris and never looked back. Living her life in a new city, she assures her family that she has never been as happy. Never mind the late, sleepless nights or the feeling of hollowness that has become her longtime companion. She has the job of her dreams and that should be enough…shouldn’t it? So why does her heart crack open when she learns of Azriel’s new fiancé?
Is love enough to bring two people together, even if their own history can rip them apart?
#coming soon#💙🦋🩵#elriel#elain x azriel#pro elriel#elriel fanfiction#elriel fanfic#fawnandshadows writing#I’ll drop the word count soon but it’s sitting at 50k rn
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https://www.tumblr.com/dairy-farmer/726959056617635841/and-i-thought-youd-be-the-last-person-to-ever?source=share
ok but dick cheating au kinda makes me want jason to swoop in and be unbelievably smug about it
like jay and tim's relationship is at lot and yes jay has hurt tim badly but jason has also never been anything but unfailingly honest with tim
if jason was having issues or doubts or even thinking about cheating on tim he would at least put their relationship on a break instead of self sabotage like dick
i think tim deserves that type of honesty and dick deserves to see tim happy with someone else
and also i'm a jaytim shipper at heart
!!!!! jason and tim have a very different dynamic from the rest of the family. they're not quite brothers and not fully enemies but they're also not quite friends. they're in this weird gray area and so tim's not sure who's more surprised when he goes to jason's apartment after leaving dick's- him or jason.
the only place tim can think to go is jason's because...unlike most of the bats jason is surprisingly nonjudgemental. his disapproval or pity or whatever knee jerk reaction people will have about tim getting cheated on in a relationship is sort of...not there. jason, when he feels like it, is a very calm presence. despite their tumultuous history and even antagonism towards each other tim feels an odd kind of comfort and ease at being around jason. jason is also someone who never hesitates to speak their mind and enforce firm boundaries. so when the family starts calling tim after dick desperately reached out to them, jason doesn't hesitate to tell them to fuck off and leave him alone.
jason is an unexpected pillar of support and a big relief from the rest of the family's tiptoeing.
tim does not tell them why he and dick have broken up. he doesn't want to endure that awkwardness and humiliation of forcing the family to try and navigate the minefield of THEIR breakup. jason accompanies him to dick's apartment to pick up his things because...well jason is the only one who really knows about the circumstances. tim couldn't very well just show up to his apartment without an explanation and so tim had condensed it down to a 'i walked in on dick fucking barbara in our bed and he has the keys to all my apartments can i stay here?'
jason is not some paragon of virtue. tim knows that lying and cheating is something jason does daily to get shit in his part of gotham done but if there's one thing jason isn't- it's indecisive. sometimes he will do something stupid and live with the consequences rather than hem and haw over it. tim respects that. it makes it so that jason is always blunt and brutally honest about stuff whether or not they hurt people's feelings.
so tim knows jason is being truthful when he tells tim he won't let dick talk to him if tim doesn't want to when they pull up to the apartment.
dick cries when tim shows up with boxes. he begs and he pleads and it amazes tim to realize that just a few days ago those sounds would've ripped his heart to shreds. dick also apologizes. a lot. he says it was a mistake that he never meant to do it, he doesn't know what came over him, he loves tim, he doesn't know why he hurt him.
and maybe its true. maybe dick honestly is a victim of his own impulse. but that's up to him to fix. lest he do this to his next partner.
jason keeps dick in one corner of the apartment while tim sorts through their laundry and wraps up antique dishes that belonged to his parents. the rest of his stuff will have to be for movers to take and tim takes pictures of dressers and couches so they can be forwarded to the company. its better to cut this off clean and quick. no mess. tim won't leave even a hair behind so there will be no confusion about this, no excuses for dick to show up at his door with a shirt tim left behind. tim drake is not a forgetful person and so him "forgetting" a knick-knack or shirt behind must be a sign that he was leaving the door cracked for them to possibly reconcile, wasn't it???
no. tim was not doing that. he wasn't THAT big of a masochist. but he had to make sure he cleaned everything out because dick...lingered. every one of dick's breakups was messy and fell into a cycle of repetition and it was never really 'the end'. dick was on again and off again with so many different people and tim was not about to do that. he didn't play games like that and so dick needed to know that whatever they had was off and would stay off.
the first time tim speaks to dick in the hour that he spends cleaning out the apartment is to turn to him and ask for the keys to his other lodgings across the city. and dick just...crumbles. he lets out loud heaving sounds and starts breathing hard and...tim's not heartless. this is clearly hitting dick very hard and...tim has most of his stuff gathered. so tim just tell him to mail him the keys to jason's address.
he's careful not to comfort dick or treat him delicately. that's the job of dick grayson's lover and friends and right now...tim doesn't want to be either.
jason makes it easier.
he's frank and he's honest and he doesn't try to save tim's feelings from telling him exactly what he thinks. that dick is a piece of shit for this but mostly a coward. that this is the kind of disrespect you don't take sitting down. that tim should firebomb dick's car, don't worry jason will cover for him.
jason is short with dick, if not outright rude. barbara gets the same treatment even though tim tells him to leave her alone because it's not like SHE was the one who owed him a commitment of monogamy and trust.
but jason just stares at him and quietly says that she knew full well they were together and she disregarded his entire existence, his feelings, and his relationship for a fuck with a boy who had dropped her numerous times. and plus, like dick, she was too ashamed of herself to even have the balls to properly apologize.
so being around jason is refreshing.
and soon after a few weeks in his apartment tim finally receives all his keys in the mail and a shameful note from dick accompanying it. he's sorry. tim believes him (some part of tim would like to believe that if he'd never walked in on them, if dick fully believed that he could make sure tim never found out- that he still would have told tim and tim still would have done...all this). but that still doesn't change anything.
tim doesn't stay in jason's apartment much longer, he knows how important having a space to yourself is so he doesn't want to be a bother for much longer.
but still, jason continues to talk to him. call him. text him.
tim asks why and is softly pleased by jason's reply that he enjoys spending time with tim.
things with dick are weird. frosty, even, when he gets too comfortable and casual for work acquaintances. but jason tells him to always maintain his boundaries and that dick will either get it eventually or tim will need to bring up an ultimatum so they can work together.
it isn't easy. some days tim wakes up feeling like absolute crap, sometimes he wakes up with nightmares of being on the other side of that door and hearing barbara and dick and the squeak of bed springs.
it was unbelievably selfish jason tells him. so fucking shortsighted and stupid. dick blew up the best relationship he's ever had for a girl he knew it didn't work out with. and babs? god. jason had actually thought she was kind of alright but for her to hurt tim like this when he'd never done a single thing to her?
its safe to say jason hates them. he probably hates dick and babs enough for both of them because most of the time tim can't muster enough strength to feel anything but indifference to both of them. he wonders if that means he should see someone. it's not normal is it? to amputate an entire limb of his soul. the part that belonged to dick.
but it gets easier. slowly.
jason helps. a lot.
even when tim registers his attraction to jason and his sensitivity and the way he gets so indignant at the pain of others, tim still doesn't try to pursue it.
it feels cheap. disingenuous. it feels too much like he'd be treating jason as a rebound following his relationship with dick and tim doesn't want that for jason. jason deserves better. he deserves to be loved wholly and fully with no agenda attached.
but jason has always been someone to go after what he wants and damn the consequences. he asks tim out ignoring how it would look, what people would say.
jason was already a 'reject', already ostracized, he told tim. people already thought the worst of him so who cared if they thought he was an opportunistic parasite who'd been waiting in the shadows for the moment dick and tim's relationship fell apart?
and...jason is good at that. helping tim get out of his own head. helping tim steady himself and figure out what he wants.
he makes him feel like its okay. to disregard what others might think, what dick might think if tim started a relationship with jason.
dick had already shown he could be selfish so...why shouldn't tim do the same?
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July Tinapple
Engineer • Iron Legion • She / Her • 18 years old.
Future Commander in an alternative AU in which my other Charr don't exist. An AU that is closer to the original Story, yet with a small twist: She is the daughter of Tybalt Leftpaw.
She is also my go to replay the whole Story of GW2 again. Its ages since I last did it.
So you might see her grow in her role as Commander.
More about her under the cut: (Beware of long text / brabble)
July is a temperamental Charr with a short fuse. She lives in the shadow of her sire - getting reminded of his disgrace all her life. That's why she got the name Tinapple in her warband - just to mock her. But also as a reminder of where their roots lie. For July its a fuel to prove everyone she is better than her Sire. That she will never be a disgrace and serve the legion well. She works hard - extremely hard.
Even more when her Warband nearly got wiped during the Ascalonian Ghost attack. Only Maverick remained - her best friend, but also mate for a short time. Their relationship won't last long - it just didn't work out - a recurring theme in her life. But they stay best friends - even later on. Maverick is a person she loves to return to, when she want's to forget the weight of the world. He will never be a friend to talk to about heavy topics, but at least someone who knows how to distract her.
"Looks like failure runs in the family" - a sentence that makes July blood boil. She gets to hear that often after loosing a huge chunk of her warband. It slowly fades, after she proves herself over and over again. Granting her soon the title of Centurion. Her constant need to prove herself lets her slip into something, she actually never wanted to sign on. And she will be too proud, to admit that this title might be to much for her. She will become the Commander - a huge and important figure in the history of Tyria.
And it starts with joining one of the three big orders. But instead of joining Vigil, the order she actually wanted to join. She ends up in the Order of Whispers, where she gets reunited with her Sire. All because of an sarcastic joke and false pride, to admit she wanted to join another Order.
At first she is not happy to see her Sire. He despises him for all the trouble he caused her, for just being related to him. But she will warm up to him. Even starting to see him as a father.
Only to have him ripped from her later on. She will grow so unbelievable angry at this. Hatred against her Sire,... her father will once again boil up. Only to cover how hurt she is, loosing him. July always had problems to express her true feelings. She hides these behind a loud and rude mouth. She will rather yell at you, then admit she is hurt. Its easier. It always was.
She will channel all the hatred for the fight against the Elder-Dragons. She wants them dead - each of them. This might change when she finds an egg - forming a huge crack in all this hatred has accumulated all these years.
Some loose bits: (that might change with replaying the story)
Trahearne, he will play a huge part in her development. He can't ease her pain and the hatred she feels for the world. But he will become someone she looks up to. Someone she feels first sees her worth. Who is truly proud of her. Who believes in her. Despise all her flaws. (Imagine the heartbreak during HoT)
She has terrible anger issues. Something she has to work on for many years.
She is an emotional mess. And she does her best to hide this ugly side. Just as the anger that boils in her.
She is incredible talented in her craft as Engineer. She will take huge part in crafting weapons against Dragons and their minions. They will be effective and absolutely deadly.
Later she will definitely pick up on Jade-Tech
Yet during all the years as Commander, she constantly doubts her abilities. She fears she is not strong enough - especially when Rytlock comes back as Revenant. He is so much more powerful than her. All she can do is craft stuff. Maybe hit hard with her Hammer,... but thats it. Without her Gadgets she is nothing. This gnaws on her a lot.
At one point she might ask Rytlock to take over as Commander - maybe after HoT. Of course he will refuse.
She is friend with Kairo Windshear (Belongs to @brightwingedbat) We still have to figure out a lot. But so far it looks like their relationship is messy. They hooked up for a while, but like with Mav, - it didn't worked out.
She will pickup the love / fixation for apples from her dad.
July desperately seeks for a meaningful something / relationship. Something to hold onto - something that won't leave her and maybe see her. Not the angry mess - but also the person behind all this. Just,... a constant in her life. An anchor, to make her feel safe.
At this point of her journey I'm not sure if she will find it or how this will look like. Will she find a soulmate - as a everlasting friendship or love? Will she make peace with her role as Commander and start to thrive in this role? Will the sudden motherhood for Aurene bring her that? Or with own Cubs?
Who knows. At this point her pages are still blank. Its on her to fill these.
(While writing this,... Gw2 Story has so many moments where they give the Commander something and then its taken away. Even in a way Aurene. Man,... you can fit so much trauma in the Commander. July,... I'm sure you will do your best, but I already see a lot of suffering for you ahead. Good thing she is stubborn,...)
---
And bonus, some screens of her and Tybalt, shortly after their first meeting.
He tries hist best.
#gw2#guild wars 2#guildwars2#charr#july#welcome to my newest brainrot#will post art of her later that day or this weekend#Funfact: It all started after replaying the last mission of LW4 for an achievment...#I still feel so sad for Kralk - the pain... ugh#I wanted to replay the whole story and with that I thought: Why not create a new Commander for that#Slighty inspired by Rolans Tharrhon
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AS MY TREAT I WANT THE MOST SILLY, GOOFY AAA HCS OF THE PAPA'S.
Like idk Copia used to have to wear earplugs because Terzo snores so loudly it's literally obnoxious or something like that.
“aww my middle finger likes you”
❤︎ synopsis — this is pure bullshittery and crack in its finest form with the papas. they can be a little crazy at times
pairing: all papa emeritus’ x gn!reader (can be platonic or romantic)
theme: crack ✦ , fluff ✿ (if you squint)
a/n: this is a toast to my bestie for being an absolute chad. i was high making these, enjoy.
cw: terzo is a warning enough on his own. that’s it.
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➵ papa primo
he’s the oldest so he constantly has to deal with the shit from his psychopathic brothers
like— primo is basically THE mom friend, except he’s the mom for moe, larry and curly over here
(moe, larry and curly being secondo, terzo and copia)
he constantly had to hold back secondo from beating the shit out of terzo because terzo made fun of him for being bald
“I’M GONNA RIP OFF YOUR WEAVE—“ “SECONDO NO—“
bro unironically listens to weezer
like full out busting down a just dance move to this music
you once caught him dancing to it, and he stood there frozen like the man emoji
he told you to never speak of it again and you just nodded, trying to plague your mind of that horrendous image
primo cannot cook for shit too btw
you were once out and asked him to make something before you got home to the ministry
the minute you walked in the door, the kitchen stove was on fire and all of primo’s ghouls were running around and screaming in infernal about the fire
meanwhile, primo stood there not knowing what to do, looking like the man emoji AGAIN
it’s basically his trademark at this point
“…. primo what the absolute fuck—“ “it wasn’t me i swear.”
while primo’s ghouls were still learning english, he once said “fuck you” to you in a very sarcastic way
but the ghouls thought it was how humans said “hello” in english
so they went around to the other siblings of sin, and sister imperator saying “fuck you” to them while leaving all those poor people offended and dumbfounded
you smacked the back of his head after that and forced him to apologize to his ghouls and to the siblings of sin (plus imperator of course)
and he gave the ghouls extra scritches too
primo also has the dad sneeze
like he can send another universe to the next tomorrow with his goofy ass sneeze
he once sneezed so loud he scared copia and caused him to bang his head on the wall
it was kinda funny tbh
anyways yeah note to self stay 10000 feet away from primo if he’s on the verge of sneezing
it’ll save your life
┅✦┅
➵ papa secondo
secondo has two moods
“oh my satan you’re all so stupid i literally hate you all” and “tee hee i’m a girly girl”
like ??? what’s this guy on???
this guy has the sass of a high school history teacher
like secondo’s being so deadass about whatever he’s saying but he’s always fucking saying it like—
“c’mon now, you literally have the style of a hairless roach 💅”
it confuses you a lot of the time, really
secondo has his moments where he’s sweet, but for the most part he’s pulling up the middle finger to everyone he sees
it’s a habit
someone could say hi to him in the nicest way possible and he’ll just grumble and flip them off
it’s not even that he’s trying to be mean, it’s a habit (a very bad habit)
you once got tired of it and smacked his hand, when he flipped you off. so it’s safe to say he no longer does it
at least to you
secondo is an absolute menace to his brothers
with primo he’s chill because he’s the eldest, but with the younger two he’s got no chill
definitely made copia cry at some point during his younger years
he later got his ass chewed out by you and primo, because no one makes copia cry
secondo’s literally so bossy it’s kinda funny
he’s always one flip flop away from smacking someone every time someone pisses him off
him and terzo are BEEFING all the time
and it’s over the stupidest shit too
“you’re stupid.” “well, you’re face is stupid” “you’re both stupid, end of the discussion.”
you once switched out all of his skull face paint for a pink barbie pallet
so secondo was walking around lookin’ like hello kitty emeritus and everyone was trying so hard not to laugh
even his ghouls were struggling too
“… secondo—“ “not. another. word.”
┅✦┅
➵ papa terzo
bro’s the fuckin’ definition of fruity
you thought secondo was girly pop?? wait ‘till you see terzo, he’s fucking extravagant
will literally show up in the grocery store lookin’ like a character ripped straight from criminal minds
like— he has to make a show EVERYWHERE he goes. he likes to stand out
terzo is also the type of man to wear skirts and dresses because he knows he’s hot shit and he devours every fit he puts together
he shows off that waist frfr
“… terzo what the fuck—“ “shut up you know i’m sexy and i’m going to show it.”
if you wear skirts or dresses he’ll definitely ask to borrow them
he definitely passed down his fruitiness to copia
and to his ghouls
he scams kids on adopt me and has a good laugh every time because he likes to see people get mad at him since he stole their hella expensive pet from them
primo told him to quit it because what kind of satanic pope scams poor little children on a roblox game?
as stylish as terzo is, he cannot do his hair and makeup to save his life
he’ll usually ask you to do it for him wherever he has to perform or do public events, which is why his face paint is simple compared to secondo and primo
it gives you two bonding time though and it’s cute
he once watched the pinkie pie smile hd video and was traumatized for a few days
like he straight up locked himself in his room and would not come out unless you convinced him to do so
during an after party after a concert ritual, he got so wasted and almost kissed omega
like you had to PRY this man off of the poor ghoul, while omega stood there unaffected (hehe tall buff demon boy)
terzo is the shortest emeritus and none of his brothers will let him live it down
ESPECIALLY copia, since he’s younger than him
terzo almost kicked him in the nuts because of that
but that definitely was a stab to his already massive ego
you reassured him that there’s nothing wrong with his height even though you found some of the jokes his brothers made funny
live laugh love terzo
┅✦┅
➵ papa copia
copia doesn’t know what he’s doing half of the time
like he’s just given a mic and he just wings a performance while the ghouls on stage are fucking around and going absolutely feral
out of all the papas, copia legitimately treats his ghouls like his own kids
he feels like he’s getting more grey hairs every time he has to stop swiss from fucking his own guitar, or sodo and phantom from fighting about cheese sticks
you sometimes help copia do ghoul-sitting and it’s just chaos. you’re literally their second parent
copia and you = parent duo for the era iv ghouls
he unironically owns a lot of funko pops
and he keeps the one of himself on a special pedestal in a glass case for safe keeping
though secondo almost once knocked over the case and he was three seconds away from smiting a bitch
you once were looking for copia because you wanted to ask him something and you found him in a ritual room
except the ritual was that he surrounded himself with a bunch of rat plushies and he was on his knees in front of a picture of a rat with a tiny crown
you were so confused, and he refuses to acknowledge what that was
“…. copia i—“ “you didn’t see anything.”
he fucking washes himself with dish soap and laundry detergent
this man is going around smelling like dawn dish soap and it’s so weird
it’s not that it even smells bad??? it just smells so interesting and strong you swear you’re in a fever dream
copia is an avid mitski fan
definitely cried his eyes out like a little bitch when he first listened to “the land is inhospitable and so are we” because he couldn’t get over how sad “my love mine all mine was”
radiates theater kid energy
but like— the kind of theater kid that is just passionate about theater and is very giddy when people ask about it
when he started his first meeting as papa he got so nervous that he straight up started the meeting with the word “mushroom”
like it’s so random ??? but it made the ghouls and you giggle so it somewhat worked out ??
copia is a little silly
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#ghost bc#ghost fanfiction#papa emeritus x reader#papa x reader#papa primo#papa secondo#papa terzo#papa copia#copia x reader#terzo x reader#primo x reader#secondo x reader#crack fic#crack headcanons#ghost bc crack#the band ghost#ghost x reader#ghost bc x reader
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reborn au!!! how team disaster meets. sort of. comes in 3 parts. uh read the warning
this takes place after tori has fled oto (which imploded. maybe because of certain Actions. history repeats, etc), and after she's been traveling around with Deidara for a bit.
the warning: an adult man gets weirdly and uncomfortably fixated on tori in a way that's implied to be sexual and also intentionally humiliating for her. nothing comes of it but the dude's own demise
xXx
Tori woke up with her cheek pressed to a cold cement floor. The air was musty and smelled of human bodily fluids. She cracked an eyelid: the lighting was dim, but she was very clearly in a cell. Her face was a foot from the bars.
Hello darkness, my old friend, she thought, because she’d thought she was done with waking up in strange cells.
The dim light was coming from outside the cell, in a corridor. There was another cell across the way, and Tori could see a shadowy pile of rags inside. Another prisoner.
When nothing happened for a few minutes, Tori sat up. The movement made her head ache, and her mouth was dry, but otherwise she felt mostly unharmed. Except something seemed… off. Really off.
Someone had changed her clothes, to a baggy shirt that smelled of sweat and a pair of matching shorts. Tori stuck her hand up the back of the shirt, fingers tracing her skin for evidence of the intrusive thing she could feel modulating her chakra.
“They’ve sealed it,” a voice from further in the cell said.
Hatake Kakashi was leaning against the back wall, his legs spread out in front of him. What the fuck.
(In the corner opposite of him was a bucket. Tori didn’t want to think about the bucket until she absolutely had to.)
Kakashi was wearing the same gross prison uniform, although he’d ripped off a strip of cloth from the bottom of his shirt to use as a makeshift mask over his nose and mouth. It would almost be cute, except nothing about the current circumstances were cute or amusing at all. He looked significantly worse for wear: his face was haggard and his posture screamed exhaustion.
“Where are we?” Tori asked.
“What village are you affiliated with?” Kakashi replied. His voice was wary.
“None,” Tori replied. “Where are we?”
There was a long pause before Kakashi answered. “Hidden Grass.”
Interesting, Tori thought. Except not interesting at all! What the hell did Kusa want with her and Deidara?
“Did you see a blonde boy, when they brought me in?” Tori asked. “Blue eyes, about my age?” She paused and added, “Short?”
Kakashi simply stared back at her.
“Please?” she tried. “He’s my friend.”
Kakashi rolled his head slightly to the side. He seemed… out of it.
“They brought you in alone,” he told her.
Kakashi was less than talkative, so Tori leaned against her own stretch of wall and contemplated what to do.
She wasn’t particularly bothered by the seal on her back. She guessed it would prevent her doing any jutsu, but she was still strong enough to stand up and walk around. That meant she still had some chakra running through her body. In a pinch, she could just use blood for a seal. Ninjutsu had never been what made her dangerous, anyway.
She was worried about Deidara. He was perfectly capable of an array of ninja skills that didn’t involve chakra, and he was clever on top of that, but the comments of their captor had been… well, she got the impression they’d be paying more attention to him than to her. She was sure he could handle himself, but the thought that he might be tortured or otherwise hurt made her antsy to do something.
She took a deep breath. Calm down, she commanded herself. She needed information before she could do anything. Like, where was Deidara? Where was she, exactly, in relation to him?
Many hours passed, and four times the same guard shuffled down the corridor, shining a flashlight into cells as they went. None of the other prisoners said a word, so Tori kept her mouth shut and listened to the guard’s footsteps. They always stopped at the end of the hall, followed by scuffing noises. A room, maybe, with a chair?
She heard conversation at the end of the hall once, muffled but with a friendly cadence. More scuffing of furniture being moved. Then a female guard did the next rounds.
There were no windows, so Tori had no idea how much time had passed.
“How often do they feed us?” Tori wondered out loud.
Kakashi lulled his head towards her. “They haven’t fed anyone in six days,” he provided.
Well, that explained a lot.
“They might have put you in here because they’re running out of space,” Kakashi continued. “But part of me wonders if they just want to see if I’ll eat you.”
Tori laughed. The sound echoed in the cell.
“It’s not really funny,” Kakashi replied dryly.
“Don’t eat me; I taste bad,” she said. Then, because Kakashi was being chatty, she asked, “Can I look at the seal they put on you?”
Kakashi just blinked slowly at her. No answer. Okay.
With the state he was in, Tori thought she could probably wrestle him to the floor and then look. But she didn’t really like the idea of physically holding someone down and rolling up their shirt, and also: Hatake Kakashi could be an important tool for escaping. After all, who knows what kinds of ninja she would run into when she freed herself and went to look for Deidara. She’d have to figure out where to look, then get around any obstacles, and then have a distraction if she needed to set up any fuinjutsu along the way. Having Kakashi on her side would be very useful, even half-starved.
Teaming up with an unknown ninja always carried the risk of them bailing the second working with you was more hassle than it was worth. Tori didn’t fear that with Kakashi. But, if she did convince him to help her, he’d need his chakra.
If Kakashi wouldn’t show her his seal, she’d have to figure out a way to visualize hers. Although she found it boring, Tori wasn’t complete shit at meditation. She crossed her legs, closed her eyes, and focused on how her chakra interacted with the seal.
The good news was that the seal’s entire purpose was to suck up her chakra and then only let out what her body needed to maintain itself. That meant that, if she concentrated hard enough, she should be able to figure out the exact way that chakra moved through the seal. This would give her no information on what the seal looked like, but she could make an educated guess at reverse-engineering it.
The female guard did another round. Tori imagined a single particle of chakra– which wasn’t really what chakra was made of, but helped her visualize it– and then imagined tracking it through her body. It was born in her stomach, then went up to her heart normally, and then the seal sucked it up before it could go anywhere else. It went through a weird spiral through there and she lost track.
What did the spiral look like? She started again.
The female guard made four more rounds. Tori’s stomach started to growl.
Another guard came, this time banging on the cell bars and tossing water bottles at the prisoners. Tori opened her eyes and stared blearily into the hallway. It sounded like there was another double occupancy cell down the way. Why the hell did they have so many prisoners?
And why wasn’t Deidara one of them?
The new guard was a big man who came right up to the bars to leer into their cell.
“I heard we had a new girl,” he said, teeth flashing at Tori. “Here, take your water ration.”
He poked the bottle through the bars so that Tori would have to get up and approach him to take it. He grinned down at her, lording this power over her. Across the cell, Kakashi shifted slightly.
Tori did not want to take the water. But if they weren’t even feeding them, it would be stupid of her to refuse. She stood and took the three paces to get to the front of the cell.
The guard didn’t move away when she took the bottle. It was thick, hard plastic; probably reusable.
“Take a sip,” the guard prompted.
Tori stared down at the water. She’d been well-hydrated when she got in here. Should she just let Kakashi have the whole thing?
“Take a sip,” the guard insisted.
Tori didn’t want to, but as she raised her eyes to meet the guard’s, she felt as though she suddenly understood him. This man would be the source of her information, no need to break out and snoop around at all.
“Um,” Tori said, fiddling with the bottle. “The other shinobi…”
“I’ll give you two more bottles,” the guard offered. “If you drink the whole thing right now.”
Weirdo, Tori thought as she complied. She wouldn’t feel hungry for a bit, at least. The guard watched her intently the entire time, his gaze making her skin crawl.
The guard did follow through on giving her two more bottles, pressing his face through the bars as he did.
“Have you had to use the bucket yet?” he jeered.
Gross, Tori thought, and willed herself to tear up even as she accepted the bottles.
“You will soon,” the guard promised.
“I don’t want to,” Tori sniffled. “I didn’t– I didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. I just want to see my friend.”
“You friend?” the guard replied, eyes fixed on how Tori rubbed her nose. “You’re not seeing your friend ever again.”
“He’s strong.” Tori hiccupped. “He’ll break out and come save me.”
The guard’s grin grew even wider. And just like that, Tori had the guard taunting her with all the horrors that were going to befall Deidara and then her, because he got off on humiliating preteen girls or whatever.
Tori couldn’t be sure of all the details between the dramatic showmanship and threats, but what she understood was this: Kusa was rounding up spill-over from Oto’s demise. They’d been particularly interested in shinobi that had experimental body modifications and jutsu from Orochimaru, of which they had incorrectly identified Deidara as one. They were studying the modifications and keeping other captives to then try out their own attempts to replicate the modifications.
She even got info on where the experiments were happening: in a temporary lab set up outside of Kusa. Tori supposed that including information about high security labs and the tools inside was supposed to be… scary, or something. She pretended to sob and sob and then when she was getting bored with repeated jeers, begged him to stop.
He left her crouched in the corner with both bottles of water and promised he’d be back when she needed to use the bucket.
She performatively let out a few more sobs after he’d left, listening intentionally as he jeered at and berated other prisoners with renewed vigor. What a disgusting man. She should make sure he died during her escape attempt, whatever that may be.
When she could hear him in the guards’ room, Tori finally dropped her act. She stood and stretched, then caught Kakashi’s eye.
He raised his eyebrows at her, questioning.
Tori took a step toward him, and he crossed his legs and straightened up but didn’t flinch. Tori set both full bottles of water next to him and sat down at his side.
“Nice work,” he said, his voice low. “But what do you plan to do with any of that? If you can’t get out, you’re just going to have a weird pervert watching you now.”
He said the last part with a wince in his voice, like any decent human. Or maybe he just didn’t want to have to see it, trapped in here with her.
“I have some tricks up my sleeve,” Tori told him, uncapping one of the water bottles. “And I’m sure you do too, Hatake Kakashi.”
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Why Cassandra's Moonstone Armor Sucks
*cracks knuckles and dusts off keyboard*
It's time to finally rip this armor to shreds...figuratively because it's indestructible XD
And big shoutout to @whosbex @archivedwoods @th3p0rtalmaker @the-reverse-mermaid @aziraphalesbookkeeper and @majorabbey who all wanted to see this. I thank you all so much for your patience 🥰
Don't get me wrong there are some elements of this that absolutely work. The blue and black is a wonderful color scheme, especially that blue swirl that goes down and around Cass's body. And the spikes on the shoulders, forearms, and calves looks super cool and gives off a more black rock feel and a very intimidating silhouette. But...that's about all it does right.
1- It doesn't fit Cassandra's sense of style at all
In all the outfits we can see Cass wear throughout the show, we can very easily get a sense of exactly what her style is. It’s very clear that she dresses conservatively. And especially in armor she values practicality above all else. Her clothing has to serve its respective purpose. And up until season 3 the only revealing thing she wears is her island outfit and even then that’s pretty modest. And the moonstone armor comes along and completely disregards her established sense of style.
2- It undermines the moonstone's capabilities
We get it very explicitly confirmed that the Moonstone made the Dark Kingdom, and made Cass's tower as well. We see the amount of detail it puts into buildings. Even the rocks, the most simple thing it can make, are magically complex enough to know to seek out the Sundrop. And you're telling me that this thing can't make better armor than that?? Nuh uh, no way. I don't buy it. There’s absolutely no reason for the moonstone to provide a skin tight catsuit with a few spikes when we know its power can be much more sturdy and intimidating.
3- It's Chris Sonneburg's fantasies showing through
Those of you who have been in this fandom know the crush that Chris, the director, has on Cass. She's supposedly based on his college crush or something, and from day one he always wanted Cass to be the villain and plan to betray Rapunzel even as far back as the very beginning of the show. And of course, don't you want to see your crush in something hot? Therefore, I'm certain that the retaining of the catsuit was his idea. Because if you look at the moonstone concept art you can see more and more the visual leaning into a catsuit rather than actual armor
4- It's not at all practical or historically accurate
For reference, THIS is what armor has typically looked like throughout history
And even in works of fantasy you still have some version or variant of armor like this. Throughout the middle ages you can see just how tanky armor used to be. But as you can see, the moonstone armor looks nothing like that. It doesn't at all look like it could realistically defend a person.
Granted Cass's guard uniform is also kinda form fitting like the moonstone armor, but there’s still protective elements of it. The helmet, the breastplate. You could still believe that that is practical armor. Despite it being indestructible, the moonstone….is not at all practical armor. It doesn't look like it belongs in history or even fantasy. It is so obviously modern it’s almost painful.
5- It makes her disappear.
This is actually something that @moltenhair pointed out a while back that I never realized. There's too much black in there. A lot of the time we see Moonssandra at night and because there's so much black on her armor it makes her fade into the background to the point where she looks like a floating head and hand because the blue is all that really catches your eye about the design. Granted one can make the argument that this could have been done on purpose because taking and using the moonstone isn't actually giving Cass the spotlight she thinks it is but...eh...it's a loose argument.
#tts#rta#tangled#tangled the series#rapunzel's tangled adventure#nerd talks#cassandra#moonstone#analysis
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Punk music is, politically speaking, a vehicle that was built to express sentiments of working class rage and destructive tendencies. That doesn't mean it's perfectly left wing, poor people are not perfectly left wing. From the patches and safety pins and ripped denim that are staples of punk fashion to the subject matter of songs by the Dead Kennedys, The Clash, Black Flag, and even the Sex Pistols, its all class rage and resentment all the way down.
Goth and Punk both as subcultural movements have relatively clear intentions, even if the politics get jumbled. They're nihilistic, angry, angsty reactions to a world that beats down on poor people. It's the idea that there is something deeply wrong with a society that doesn't take care of its people and using music to express how you feel about that situation.
I came up in the 2010s, which meant that Emo was on the back end of its moment when I was discovering music outside of my parent's taste and whatever was on the radio. I've heard a lot of things about the emo movement as it relates to other subcultures but one thing I heard that I want to respond to here is that it's not about anything, which is not perfectly correct but it looks that way on the surface and is actually a very interesting observation. Punk's about how we can't pay the rent our government is taking advantage of us, rich people are taking advantage of us, and unlike those hippies who think they can solve all the worlds problems with peace and love and non violent protest, we're gonna break stuff. We're gonna make it everyone else's problem. Goth coming from the punk scene was less angry and more purely nihilistic and death obsessed but still had that sort of vibe of the aristocracy's time has come, look how easily I can look like a decaying version of them. Emo doesn't really have that clear of a message by comparison.
I would like to posit that this is because Emo is end of history punk. There's still that feeling that there's something deeply wrong, there's still angst and rage and nihilism and resentment, but by now the enemies of the United States' capitalistic global hegemony have fallen, there is no alternative, terrible things keep happening but the propaganda machine is pumping it into your brain every single day that this is the best of all possible worlds. The problem can't be society it has to be you.
So punk music evolves, we're not doing a revolution anymore the revolution is dead, we're not watching it decay anymore because this shambling corpse won't drop dead and has managed to convince us it's immortal. But the feelings are all still there. So they turn inward. The destruction becomes self-destruction. You can't be feeling this way because society is bad, it must be you, you must be depressed, that girl you didn't really like that much broke up with you, maybe it's that. It couldn't possibly be the fact that you're poor and you're sick but can't get help and the corporations are destroying the planet and you can't do anything about it. This is the best of all possible worlds, remember? You are an acceptable casualty of that, if you don't like it you can either suck it up, take pills, or slit your wrists, the choice is yours. And the emo scene says maybe I will slit my wrists because I can't live like this.
I think now both punk music and emo music along with the fashion are having a bit of an interesting revival, and I don't think the revival is good but I definitely think it is necessarily a sign of the times. The common person has been given access to a certain level of celebrity, the cracks in the political hegemony that the 90s and 00s propaganda told us would last until the heat death of the universe are showing, corporations in their quest for endless growth have made us into modern serfs and commodified every aspect of our lives. We see so much death every day from covid from state violence that used to be easier to cover up. The apocalypse we were warned about but unable to stop is here. There's an appetite for the nihilism, the rage, the self destruction from the failure to change anything, and in pursuit of profit, the companies see that appetite and respond to it with fast fashion and industry plants, and the common person who is under constant surveillance and has been convinced it's what they want has prettied up the grittier aspects of the scene in order to make it social media ready. The goth bars close and the regular bar has an emo night, social media influencers who used to bully you for your DIY fashion does a "Tradgoth" makeup trend that looks more like Gottmik than Siouxie Sioux just to wipe it off and post it for a Sephora sponsorship. You say anything about any of it and you get accused of being more hardcore than thou even though you're just making observation about the scene you've been in for a decade. And you look around you and the same thing is happening to hip-hop and the state of the music scene is even worse for normies so this is clearly a universal problem.
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