#they all look so happy!!! like where are y'all now how many of y'all hate your jobs at samsung now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugoi-writes · 6 months ago

Note

REQUEST TIME :333 ummm this is actually my first time requesting here but I’ve been so obsessed with Human Alastor so maybe a sexy thing where he hunts you (fem reader) down in the wooded near his cabin with his shotgun? This is so dangerous lol but he’s shooting and splitting trees as you zip pass them in your nightgown (he would never shoot you it’s for the flare) you stumble over an old stump and he is on your ass! You fight and tumble around before he’s dragging you by your ankles back to his cabin to have his way with you? (All of this was very much consensual between the two of you elaborated foreplay if you will!)

Trigger Happy - Human! Alastor x Fem!Reader

My friend in Satan, I am SO sorry for how long this took! I was honestly getting worked up over it!!! Hate the delay, but I hope the story itself will be worth it! Just as a warning, this is getting towards risky territory, but I promise nothing too bleak. A few warnings: Guns, a heated foot chase, you get distracted there for a while, some physical violence/tussling, f!reader, some f!oral and m!oral, overtsim, rope/restraints, and some REALLY filthy penetrative sex. Y'all are some absolute freaks in this one. Hope you enjoy! (ALSO THIS IS LIKE INSANELY LONG IM SORRY ITS LIKE 9K--)

SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO @minkdelovely and @hazelfoureyes for helping me through this and being my scream queens/beta readers dhoduhdouhdoduhdohidoi <3 (I'm in love with both of you BLINKBLINK)

Taglist: @ieatcocoa @nocturessa @tsukikos-stuff @leviskittywh0re

@polyo-nym-y @cosmiccandydreamer @littlebluefishtail @your-excellenc-z21 and others (if you wanna be tagged I'll add you! Sorry I've never made a taglist before???)

🩸🦌🩸

Your hands fidgeted in your lap as Alastor finished the final touches of tonight's meal. You regarded him nervously as his humming filled the humble interior of his inherited cabin. He was in such a good mood, you thought... Why spoil something so tender and domestic between the two of you?

For a while now, you knew of your darling beau's aversion to many things, physical intimacy being one he struggled with most. At least, compared to most... You hardly minded, as when you were on the receiving end of such of intimacy... Well, let's just say you could usually expect to be bedridden for a few hours. You swallow the bile creeping up, nerves reflected in your voice as you spoke," Alastor, dear?"

A pair of kind, almond-colored eyes looked upon you, making your heart leap. Alastor's eyes turned a warm amber when exposed to the charming lighting provided by the fireplace.

"Yes, darling?" Alastor cooed, his tone still airy and filled with a domestic softness.

"Could we... could we talk for a moment? Before dinner?"

Your partner gave you a bemused look, as if he were asked a ridiculous question. His hands settled on his hips as he rocks his weight onto his other foot, eyebrows raising.

"Dear, why let the food grow cold? Could we not discuss it over dinner? I tell you, it's JUST like my mother's; it's hearty, filling, and--"

"Alastor," you interrupt, a stern bite cutting through your meek tone," Pl-Please... If I try to tell you while you're eating, you'd probably choke." Alastor grants you an interesting look, eyes widening with your change in demeanor. But of course, he relents, sighing like a demure housewife.

"Well then, who am I to refuse... Choking is rather unpleasant, anyhow." Quickly, Alastor fusses over your meal, dousing the fire to let it simmer.

"Now then: we have a few minutes before I need to stir it. Tell me... what's troubling you?"

You gesture for Alastor to sit with you, to take his place at the table. He silently moves towards it in confident, wide strides. You watch nervously as he sits, crossing his legs formally. You felt the sweat trickle into your brow as his simple actions felt like they took an eternity... Alastor then sets his elbows on the table, resting his chin upon his folded hands. He looked... entirely too comfortable, a stark contrast with your stiff spine and sweating palms.

Alastor watches you quietly, granting you a moment to collect your thoughts. And then, you speak:

"Alastor... you know how-- well, it's been a while since we last-- Uhhm..." The quiver of your lip tips your partner off immediately, his eyes squinting. The smile that plays on his face is telling, his teeth gleaming under the dim light.

"Oh honestly, what am I to do with you? Yes, of course we can try for a little romp tonight. But... I sense that our standard 'bedroom practices' aren't the only thing clouding your mind?"

He just didn't get it. He didn't understand the weight of what was on your mind, and how quickly it was going to hit him. You were thinking of this for weeks, terrified of his reaction... But, in the comfort of the cozy, warm cabin: it was now or never. You felt a tinge of guilt as you felt his flirty smile widen, ready to shatter his expectations.

You nod in affirmation, forcing yourself to look his way fully," Right. I have an idea. Something to... change things up. 'Make it a bit more interesting, if you'll hear me out."

Alastor hums pleasantly, one of his hands gesturing outward in an animated way. He regards you just the same, opening the floor to you. You steel your nerves, hands turning to balled up fists as you formulate your next thought bluntly," I want you to hunt me, Alastor. I wanted to be hunted."

A silence befalls the room, causing panic to rise in your chest. Your chaste, Creole partner stares back at you, eyes wide. His expression was damnably neutral, as if processing your demand. You immediately start onto a tangent, leaning forward as you make your case.

"L-Look, I know how that sounds... I don't want you to actually hurt me or kill me-- I mean-- I feel like you'd be terribly sad if I were gone, but-- No, I mean in a more..."

When you trail off, you expect Alastor to pick up on your meaning. You sigh with frustration, your hands mirroring each other as they mimed your body's curves and contours," ...sexual... way."

Alastor's expression morphs under the light of the fireplace, which burned dutifully. Alastor's black pupils dilate, his mouth falling ajar. He sits upright in his seat, leaning back as he takes everything in.

" You want me to... pursue you. Hunt you... like I would wild game? Is... Is that what you're asking?"

You nod firmly, your hands trembling," I-I know, I know... it's different. I told you it would be different--"

"Different is hardly a bad thing, mon cherie... 'just surprising, is all," Alastor drawls, his eyes softening. He could see how much you were worked up. You were scared to disappoint; scared to be rejected. He hated to see the soured look on your face, and was determined to replace it with something else," What exactly do you have in mind? This-- pursuit of ours... what are the conditions?"

It was now your turn for your face to morph, a mix of surprise and relief, a faint heat brewing in your stomach," Well... I'd like you to treat it like a legitimate chase. I could be a deer, in a sense... something to bring home for dinner. You'd chase me, and I would do my best to fight back, run away...," your eyes wander over to the shotgun by the cabin door, eyes glazed from your impure thoughts," But I don't want you empty handed. I want... I'd like for you to bring the shotgun. Use it, even... as long as you don't actually try to kill me." Alastor's expression, you swore, was now the rawest it's been since you've first met him. His heart was on his sleeve: confusion, shock, delirium, and... some sort of desire. A hunger.

Alastor smoothly rises from the table, his footsteps almost echoing in the silence. He makes his way to his nightstand, fishing out something you couldn't see. When Alastor turns towards you, you hear a familiar clink, as his revolver shines in the warm light. He opens the chamber, showing to you that it is empty, before sealing it with a resolute spin. Your fists unclench, and you let out a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding.

"Dear, as lovely and authentic as it would be... I would hate to bring the shotgun. That tool is far too accurate and far too deadly, even in an inexperienced person's hands. A round so small can tear a hole wider than your skull, given the proper range..." When Alastor returned to the table, he sets the empty revolver there, your heart thumping at the implications. He slid it towards you, as if a peace offering," I wonder what may have caused this idea to fester... But it's one I'm most certainly intrigued by," he offers simply. You tried your best not to look away, his smile exposing just how fascinated he was with your proposal. His eyes were a dead giveaway: he was more than willing to carry this act out.

Your hand ghosts over the revolver, the wood of the grip much warmer than the cool metal of the barrel. Alastor clears his throat, calling your attention back to him," If I may, dearest, I also have a request..."

You feel your heart thudding loudly in your chest, the loud pulse making you deaf to the rest of the world.

"Which is...?" you attempt to counter smoothly, but the breathiness of your tone gives you away. Alastor's eyes squint, familiar with that lilt of yours. He relished seeing you like this: embarrassed, sheepish... But most of all, you felt an overwhelming desire to have him agree; have him take charge. His ego bloomed right under your nose... He wanted to see just how badly this desire had been burning inside of you.

"Do you recall the nightgown that you wore when we first embraced, love? The white little number with lace trim?" You nodded immediately, a heat rising in your face as you recalled your first night with your partner," Y-Yes... yes, I think I have it with me, actually."

Alastor moves over to your side of the table, kneeling down to your height. He grabs your chin, gently tilting your head to meet his eyes. You couldn't help the spark of desire that shot up your spine as a wicked smile stretches across Alastor's face," Good. I'd like to see it thoroughly ruined once I'm done with you."

You swore you had a stroke, your eyes wider than the dinner saucers that set the cozy, oak dinner table. You were brought back to reality as Alastor patted your cheek, practically singing when he spoke again.

"Now: let's eat. You'll need this to have your strength, dear~ The hunt starts this evening. Once dinner is finished, you'll have until I fully load the revolver to run. And that's when I'll come for you... understood?"

You had all but forgotten how to breathe, a stupefied nod his only reply as Alastor went back to the stove," Ohhh, almost forgot! We still have some bread from last night! I hope that's alright, dear~"

You were almost numb from the overwhelming sensations and emotions that coursed through your body. You were so excited and so nervous that you couldn't even think of eating. But Alastor had worked so hard to make you a fresh, homecooked meal... who were you to let it go cold? Despite yourself, you happily devoured the entire course, and were soon given seconds. Alastor grants you a coy smile, his expression saying what he kept silent: eat up. You're gonna need it.

---

Like the dutiful partner you were, you helped Alastor clean every dish and utensil used to prepare dinner. Ever the vixen, you even smeared some of the broth across his cheek, just to lick it off. The act made Alastor shudder, but he spared you, merely squeezing your hips and giving you a kiss. As for tonight... well, you wondered just how gentle he would be... if at all.

Once you had dried the last utensil, your ears perked up at the sound of a metallic clink. Your eyes widened, head whipping around to see Alastor opening the barrel to his revolver. He glances towards you, a neutral smile on his face," Oh! Sorry to startle you, dear. Just filling the chamber. 'Thought I heard something stalking outside... I might have to investigate it. You can never be to careful, these days."

You gasped, eyes dilating as you shook with anticipation. Now, now was the time.

You sprinted over to your suitcase, throwing it on the bed as you frantically searched for your nightgown. He was eager to start too, it seemed--

Click. First bullet loaded.

"I say, what a strange time of year...," Alastor rambled as he spun the glistening chamber, pushing up his glasses with the wrist of his other hand. The second bullet was clutched in his fingers, the rest scattered on the counter. You nearly shrieked as you frantically tear off your loungewear, exchanging it for the gown that Alastor requested. He would have thought the action was adorable and meek, if it weren't for his desire to fuck you stupid.

A bemused chuckle fills the air, dark and full of promise.

"What do you think is out there right now, love? A little rabbit, perhaps? With a fluffy white tail?"

Click. Second round.

You made your way hastily to the door as Alastor watched you, wiping the barrel of his revolver with the edge of his flannel. He was taking his time and making this spectacle: that you knew for sure. He seemed aloof, unbothered by your accelerated heartrate... but it agonized him to no end. This zesty little suggestion already had his mind reeling, possibilities of how he would claim you crossing over him every time he blinked.

"No, perhaps it's a deer? A doe, even? I hear it's about that time of year... mating season, that is." Your face grew hot at the notion, cursing yourself for not better preparing for this. You made sure to pull on your hiking shoes, tying the laces tightly. You prayed that they'd stay on to protect your feet.

Alastor hums with curiosity, blinking. Another image of you, trembling and moaning under his body, making his nethers pulse with interest.

"Ohh, maybe a bobcat! Something feisty... I wonder how it would taste?"

Click number three. Halfway through...

You turn around, chest already heaving as you made eye contact with Alastor. He saw you for the deranged, desperate animal that you were. His eyes matched your energy, an uncanny smile on his face. Alastor's pupils were mere pinpricks, the overwhelming expanse of amber and caramel brown nearly glowing.

"I don't know, baby... But whatever it is, I hope it runs fast," you grin to Alastor as he mirrors your expression, his tongue running across his pristine teeth.

"I'd hate to think of what would happen if you caught up to it."

With that, you were out of the door, unable to hear the rapid succession of bullets four, five, and six. Teasing be damned, he was making himself impatient. Alastor made a show of closing the weapon with a hard snap and spin, a satisfying weight settling into his hand. With the gun fully loaded, it just felt so... right. A fascination he gained from his father, unfortunately. Though he did appreciate the skills he learned from the sick bastard, that was the extent of his affection.

He'd have a good number of things to thank him for before the end of the night, as he slipped on his own pair of outdoor boots. When he stepped out onto the deck, he had caught a glimpse of you. That delicate little nightgown was fluttering and fleeting, catching the moonlight. It had to have been around 9 or 10 o'clock at night... A perfect time for your little chase to commence. Not to mention, the cool, crisp Fall air had made everything entirely better; not too hot, and not too cold. For all the weather that permeated in this southern state, Fall in Louisiana had been one of Alastor's favorites. It was his favorite namely for Open Season... and how convenient for him that you were added to the list of eligible, wild game...

He inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring the scent of evergreen and pine tickling his senses. He held his breath like this for a while, feeling his chest expand and burn from the denial of oxygen. Once he'd had enough, he exhaled heavily, a shudder running through his entire body. He let you have a decent head start. Now the chase could begin.

---

Your lungs burned from how swiftly you ran, feet carrying you further than you had ever pushed yourself. In that moment, you almost felt liberated, free… as if something had rolled off your chest. You aren't quite sure where this sense of euphoria came from, but you embraced it all the same, laughing breathlessly as your dress caught in stray branches and debris, your boots splashing into the wet, almost marshy forest floor. You breathed in through your nose, feeling a similar pull as Alastor to just take everything in… You were greeted with smells of wood and earth, though, in this part of the forest, you caught whiff of a water source nearby. As if a tether were around your waist, you felt called to it. Your running came to a steady, calm trot, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness of the night.

You stop just by a clearing, a familiar bayou greeting you. You marveled at the scenery before you, scarcely lit up by the moonlight. You had almost forgotten about your little game with Alastor, brushing stray Spanish Moss aside as you stepped fully out into the open. You smile fondly, a memory crossing your mind:

You, frantically shaking Alastor's shoulders as you try to point out a doe and her darling, new fawn. But, in your desperation, the deer were scared away, frightened by your presence. You had been heartbroken, though your partner swore up and down that he saw them, and that even so: your enthusiasm was a much more charming sight.

You walked a few yards from the water's edge, not wanting to chance it; meeting a creature of the night face-to-face was not your idea of "fun"... unless it was Alastor. You were grateful, then, for your hiking boots, as they made navigating the wet earth beneath your feet much easier. However, your foot catches on your next step, causing you to stumble into a nearby tree. When catching yourself, you spy a delicately carved pattern: yours and Alastor's first initials. (You, later on, had added the heart that surrounded them). Initially, you hadn't wanted to deface a tree like this, but Alastor, ever the charmer, insisted that it would become a landmark for you; a way to tell where you were if you were ever lost...

Your hands traced the familiar carvings, the rivets scratching against your fingertips gently. You just felt your heart swell more, the thoughts of your softer moments making your mind fog. Even with someone hot on your tail, your focus waning. You began humming to yourself as you continued your restful stroll, running through moments in your memory that made you feel particularly cozy; safe.

Just when you had felt your safest, a loud SNAP of a tree twig sounded to your rear left. You froze in your tracks, turning feverishly towards the sound. Your once still, content heart was racing wildly, eyes as wide as the moon looming above you. You slowly turned your entire body to face the noise, making sure to keep your eyes focused on the direction you heard the snap. You start to walk backwards, making your way stealthily towards the tree line.

Most animals will attack you with your back turned… facing them will deter an assault, even if for a few moments, you thought… Just before you could disappear, having half a mind to sprint-- a sudden, deafening CRACK rang out, followed by the splintering of wood. You looked to your left again, as you witness the tree next to you receive a battle scar: a bullet wound.

RUN.

You bolted into the thick underbrush, doing your best to stay low to the ground as a set of steady, patient steps pursued you. Had you not had a good distance on him, your hunter's pace would have been undiscernible from your own. It thrilled you; it horrified you. You knew that Alastor had a knack for hunting, and had you known he was THIS committed, you would have asked for a better head start.

A startling thought plagued your mind as you had a moment of clarity, your face paling. You ASSUMED this was Alastor… what if it wasn't? What if this was a wild animal, who had its sights on you? What if it was another marksman, and you were trespassing on their property? The thought made your throat run dry, the instinct to become small and hide winning over your other senses.

You nearly shrieked as a second bullet wizzes past you, less than a yard away, before it strikes the tree to your right. To your horror: it was at eye level. Had this been a stranger… they were going for the kill.

You crouch all the way down to the forest floor, searching frantically until you spy an hollowed-out tree log. You slink your way over, searching for any residents or critters, before diving headfirst into the tree husk. You laid on your back, bringing your legs in as far as they could go. You winced as your knees scrapped against the dead wood. Unable to calm down, you hastily cover your mouth with both hands. You were doing your absolute best to calm your breathing. Think, now, think… you had to think your way out of this mess.

The steady beat of the hunter's footsteps slowed, until they stop entirely. You resisted the urge to sigh in relief, still unsure if you were safe or not. Eventually, you couldn't hear a thing over the deafening stillness, the normal noises of the woods silenced by your escapade. Much like you, other creatures seemed to wait with bated breath. Maybe they were terrified of the hunter… maybe they were terrified of you.

You twitch as you hear the familiar clink of metal, a revolver's spinning wheelhouse catching your ear. You weren't out of the woods yet… this could still be another person. This could very well be a real hunt… A sharp inhale sounds just a few yards away. You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes slamming shut. When did that hunter get closer!? Had you misjudged how far away you were from him?!

"Only 4 more bullets, Little Cottontail… let's see if you can evade them all~"

Relief and terror washed over you simultaneously: Alastor. Your body was paralyzed with conflicting emotions, breath picking up as you hear footsteps stirring closer. You could feel the panic rising in your face, blood pressure raging; but you can also feel the traitorous, hazy heat that engulfed your core. Either way, Alastor had you completely on edge, your fragile mind was on the verge of caving in either way. Should you run away, or run to him? That was your conflict…

Knock knock

Your eyes fly open as you dare to look between your bent legs, spying a pair of steely, hungry brown eyes. Pupils mere pinpricks, the whites of his eyes were nearly glowing under the light of the moon.

"There's that sweet, little rabbit!"

You shrieked as you were pulled out of the log, knees and back scrapping against the wood of your shelter. When you met solid earth, you kicked and fought, eyes wide and animalistic. Your body still fell into conflict; you wanted this to be a real chase: FIGHT BACK. Alastor was quick to avoid your kicks, straddling your hips as he tried to restrain your flailing arms. Never did you make contact, but Alastor was cautious to avoid any accidental hits, all the same.

"Oh dear, was I wrong after all? Am I really still chasing a scared, feral little rabbit~? Or something bigger…" Alastor teased, managing to seize one of your hands. It was immediately pinned above your head as you thrashed, grunting and groaning in your efforts to escape. Alastor pressed further into you, eliciting a tight -lipped moan as you felt an unmistakable hardness rub against your core. He was enjoying this much more than his face allowed him to show…

"Be a good little pet, won't you? Won't you let me take you back to my cabin? I promise I'll make this quick and painless~"

You thrashed your head back and forth. You didn't want this to be quick. You didn't WANT it to be painless. You wanted more. MORE of this.

In a daring fit of heightened hormones and rushed decision making, a loud SLAP filled the air. You panted as your hand stung, Alastor's face now jerked to the left, looking away. A flushed, red print was painted across his handsome face, his eyes wide with disbelief. He sat there like this for a few moments, his grip on your hand all but gone. You took this opportunity to slink out from under him, using his dumbfounded expression as a gauge. Truly, how long did you have until he was grounded?

Sadly, it wasn't long, a slender hand cupping the offending, fading mark. You looked down as you saw something move, your mouth watering: his cock was even harder than before, twitching from the sudden outburst. A shaky, broken sigh left Alastor's trembling lips as he slowly looked back towards you. A deep dusty rose flooded his cheeks as he chuckled, his voice full of a wicked venom. His free hand fished for his revolver, the barrel now pointing straight at you.

"Alright, then… no more playing nice."

You immediately vaulted out of the way as a third shot rang out, impacting the earth you had just been sprawled upon. Alastor elegantly got to his feet, like a regal vampire exiting his coffin. He pressed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, pupils wide with desire as he watched you bob and weave into the trees.

"Three more to go," he growled, his grin widening madly as he broke out into a frenzied sprint.

The panic was steadily rising, as did your burning desire. You realized, with horror, that Alastor's pace nearly went in double time, and he was steadily gaining on you. And so, you figured if you were truly to get caught, it might as well be a trap for him too--

BANG

Shot number four rang out, a terror-filled scream igniting the night; this shot was less than a foot from your trembling, straining right leg. You muscles were scorched from the effort you put yourself in, core fully engaged as you tried to focus on breathing. You were unsuccessful, already far too overworked and overheated. You came to the harsh realization that you couldn't run much longer.

You started charting your course carefully, taking dips and turns in hopes to throw Alastor off of your trail… but ever the clever man, he never lost sight of you. And, despite your best efforts, he was nearly on top of your imaginary cottontail. You dared to look behind you, searching for the madman coming for you, only to see he was no where in sight. Your pace slowed down, confused as his footsteps cease. You came to a dead stop, spinning around wildly to find any sign of your darling partner. Your mouth ran dry as you panted, legs nearly giving out from under you. As you took in your surroundings, you feared that you may be lost… truly, genuinely lost.

"A-Al… Alastor? Baby...?" you rasp between pants, a hand coming up to your heaving chest. You take a few, cautious steps back towards the direction you came from, squinting harshly. Your eyes still had not adjusted to the low visibility of the dank, dark forest.

"A-Al… AL?!" you call desperately, scared that you may have lost him, or worse: maybe he was injured... You go to take off again, before a hand snakes around your throat. You couldn't scream as the hand squeezes your pulse, a cold, metallic object pressed into your lower back. Your fear transformed into relief, which transformed into desire, all within a span of few seconds. Familiar, heated lips brushed against the shell of your ear. Alastor's breath was heavy on your skin.

"I guess I didn't need all of my rounds, after all." Alastor nearly purred, despite his labored breathing. His warm breath followed his lips as they came to the junction of your jaw and neck, three fingers unfurling from your pulse. This left him just enough room to litter the bared skin of your neck with short, open mouthed kisses, your eyes fluttering closed. Even with only two fingers squeezing your throat, you still felt lightheaded, unable to escape. You shuddered under his grasp, your body instantly surrendering to his desire. It was official: the chase was officially over. Alastor knew that the moment you sighed into his touch.

"Good girl~"

In a rapid succession, you were grabbed and hauled over Alastor's wide shoulder, his free hand tucking his revolver away. Your hands flew down to grope and run over Alastor's body, your lungs still exhausted from the strife of running away. Alastor allowed your hands to explore, appearing unphased as he carried you out of the woods. He resisted every fiber in his being to not bend you over and fuck you into the damp earth; a filthy act for a filthy-minded girl like you. But, he had at least some modicum of class… he needed to make this last; he would ensure this was something you wouldn't soon forget.

-- You felt embarrassed by how rapidly your heart beat, how frantically you were tugging at Alastor's flannel, but when your eyes looked up to a different building, your heart nearly stopped. You were walking toward 'the shack', Alastor called it… THIS was where he took all of his wild game after hunting them down. Seeing your unease, he slapped you on the ass, hoping to chase away your nerves," Don't worry, darling… I told you I would be gentle~"

His words contradicted his actions as you were practically thrown into the shed, sprawled out onto the floor. Your eyes tried taking in your surroundings, but it was far too dark to see. You yelped as both of your hands were seized and tied with a coarse jute rope, the fibers pricking your wrists. When you felt Alastor leave you, your legs came together, heat still pooling in your lower abdomen," S-Sooo, Mr. Huntsman~ You've caught me~ What do you plan to d--" Your questioning was cut short as you were suddenly jerked onto your knees, your hands now taunt over your head. A few more tugs on your rope, and you were standing upright, struggling to balance on the balls of your feet. You wobbled as you heard shuffling behind you, rope being fastened, and the clink of Alastor's revolver laying on a flat surface.

Alastor left you in suspense like this for a few moments, as he brought his hands together with a satisfied hum. The crisp sound made you jump as if it were gunfire, your cunt nearly drooling as you strained to look for Alastor in the pitch.

"Now then… 'can't see very well like this, can we?"

A lantern was lit just in front of your face, startling you. You realized that Alastor had all but held his breath to get closer to you, those same, silent footsteps deceiving you again. You couldn't find the words to speak, eyes wide with disbelief and desire as you stared back at Alastor's shit eating grin.

"Ahhh, yes… Finally managed to capture you, you tricky thing~," he mused as he flicked the tip of your nose. He chuckled when you wiggled it back and forth and recoiled, almost mimicking the animal he claimed you to be. "No, I don't think you're privy to know what I plan to do to you, with words… But, I can certainly show you." He seized your cheeks roughly with one hand, puckering your lips as he closed the distance between your bodies," But you might enjoy that too, wouldn't you?" Alastor's other hand ran dangerously up your trembling thigh, his face cool and collected as you were practically panting under his touch.

"P-Please…"

Alastor sends you a questioning look, before grinning maliciously," I didn't realize animals could speak, let alone have permission to." A harsh grip on your thigh anchored you to Alastor's pelvis, and you felt the familiar, hardened length on your core. You whined, obeying in silence as Alastor ground against you. His mouth fell open as he pressed his hips again, eager to seek some friction.

"You'd like me to use you, wouldn't you…? Breed this body like a deranged rabbit while you're helpless, defenseless under my touch…" Your mouth watered at the idea, your eyes fluttering as his hand shifted to palm your ass. His smirk was very telling, both hands moving to spread and palm your backside properly. His touch was slow and sensual on your trembling, supple body.

"Or maybe I should lay my claim here… Uncharted wilderness is quite thrilling to explore, don't you think?" His breath was so low it rattled his own ribcage. Without warning, a groan was torn from both of your throats as you bucked into Alastor's hips. Your eagerness was not unwelcomed...

Alastor was rewarded with another broken, wanton moan for his scandalous ideas and his wandering hands. He realized, in that moment, he was telling you exactly what he wanted to do to you. And, in that same moment, he decided that he didn't fucking care.

"Or maybe… maybe I can't wait--" Alastor starts to drag his lips down your form, kissing down your neck, then the valley of your breasts, then your abdominals… before landing at the hem of your still-concealed underwear. "I'm quite parched, love… Surely you won't mind if I quench my thirst, first?" Alastor's hands snake up your thighs as your nightgown is pushed up, revealing his current target: your clothed loins. His pupils shrink as he inhales, almost nuzzling into your inviting cunt. You whine weakly when he gazes up to you with mesmerized eyes; he was as bent out of shape as you were, and he was struggling to keep it concealed… Was he really going to enjoy himself, or sink his teeth in? Your heart stuttered at either possibility.

You nodded down to Alastor, wobbling as you spread your legs as far as you could. Your wrists were reminded of their predicament as you tried to move, thrashing in your restraints. You didn't speak, a firm nod your answer and consent. As Alastor kissed your awaiting heat, he shifted your legs onto his shoulders, alleviating the pressure on your feet. Had you not been so aroused, you would be heavily flustered by this gesture: a kindness yet something so brazen, even for your sweet beau.

He squeezed the meat of your thighs, humming as he licked a warm, wet stripe between your covered lips, the fabric of your panties already drenched with your arousal. You swore you saw his eyelids flutter as he sighed against you, diving in more earnestly. You wailed with frustration, unable to feel the full effect of his tongue just yet. You cared very little, however, as some attention was better than none. Your struggled against your restraints once more, warning hands digging into your thighs. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it simmered into a moan with each wave of pleasure. You wanted to scream as Alastor continued to tease you, unable to regulate your breathing or your moans.

He wasn't kidding; he wanted to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue dancing along your drenched panties wildly. He left no surface unmarked by his sinful, silver tongue. Alastor practically moaned around your sensitive bud, your mind reeling at the sensation as your hips bucked subconsciously. Whether it was because he was enjoying himself, or strictly to stimulate your clit, you weren't sure… but that little noise sent jolts of electricity right to your core.

Despite this: you were rewarded with a nip to your pearl, a whiney, breathy moan your weak rebuttal. You secretly hoped he would tear you apart, just to put you back together and break you again.

Your mind refocused as you felt your underwear being moved to the side, a bold, eager tongue now attending to your bare, puffy folds. You shrieked his name, whimpering from the stimulation. His tongue worked dexterously, licking and coddling every curve, dip, and crevice. Alastor's movements were now raw and unfiltered, MUCH to your delight.

Your legs caged his head, squeezing him closer to you as you felt your orgasm forming at an alarming rate. You couldn't help but mewl, head falling forward and limp as Alastor buried his face into your mound. His straight, rigid nose prodded your clit as he drove his tongue into your aching entrance, your taste and scent engulfing his thoughts. You let out a long, satisfied moan as he began to pump his long tongue in and out of you, working both his spit and your arousal in and out. The slick skin-on-skin squelching did nothing to calm the fire behind your eyes, toes popping with how violently they curled. Alastor continued his brutal pace, unable to get enough of your taste, scent, and special, little cries that were made just for him.

"F-fuhhh~ F-Fahhh--! Ahh! A-Al!" you cried, wanting desperately to use your words; you tried to give him a warning. You were near your climax, tears pricking your half-lidded eyes. You heard Alastor grunt into you, hands rubbing and kneading your thighs, as if asking you to crush his head more. You obliged, bucking into his mouth as your release started to approach. He had his mouth full, no doubt! Even so: you swore you heard Alastor moan and whisper into your folds hastily, suckling and swirling your clit to make you cum.

"F-Fuck-- Oh fuck, cum for me, then--"

Your body spasmed, head tossing back sharply,"F-Fuck, Al-- Al!!! Fuck, cumming--"

The dizzying affect swam over you swiftly, a scream that could be mistaken for pain filling the tiny shack you were in. The force and sudden rise in pleasure was overwhelming, almost maddening as Alastor wound you back down. You were gently set back onto your feet, legs shaking... All the while, his tongue never stopped, making you whine from overstimulation.

"A-Al… please, that's-- G-God! You can stop now-- Ahh~" You would have doubled over if your hands weren't restrained, your tongue lolling out from between your lips. The delightful slurping from below didn't cease, and seemed to become even more feverish. Alastor smiled up at you, parting for just a moment before licking his slick-covered lips.

" Am I not allowed to have seconds, dear?"

Your face seemed to catch on fire as you try to formulate a reply. However, Alastor's mouth knocked it out of you, head vacant as he continues to ravage you. He suckled on your abused clit, hands holding your hips in place as you tried to squirm away from his devious touch.

"F-Fuck! F-Fuck, Al, please--!!! T-Too much-- Ahhn-- T-Too much!!" you cried, your wrists chaffed against the rope that bound you.

Alastor did not relent, instead pressing you further into his face as he feasted upon you. His slurping and gulping nearly doubled with a grotesque volume, his eyes wide and watching you. You trembled under his intense gaze, rushing towards a very intense, unnecessary second orgasm.

"F-Fuck-- Alastor!! A-Al! Fuck, don't--" you whined, tears streaming down your face as the searing heat of the new orgasm washed over you," Pl-Please-- FUCK--"

Another shriek bounced off the walls as a hasty, overwhelming feeling flooded your loins. You winced with embarrassment as you felt a sudden gush of warmth coat your sex and thighs. Of course, Alastor was on the receiving end, but didn't seem to mind, his tongue only slowing when you were practically sobbing into the afterglow. Your legs completely gave out on you, wincing as your arms held your entire body aloft," F-Fuck… Fuuuuckkk…" you whined as your head spun, your eyes blurry from the pleased, hot tears that stained your face. A sweet, warm hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look Alastor's way.

"An absolutely breathtaking meal, darling…," Alastor panted, his eyes warm but still full of a lusty haze," Please… if you'll have me, I simply can't stop there."

When you gave him a weak but sure nod, Alastor nearly bolted to the secured rope, allowing you to descend to your knees. The warm wooden floor dug into your legs as you waited. Alastor was quick to resecure the rope before looping back to you. " If I were to ravage your pussy now, I'm afraid this little show might end early… So for both our sakes…" Alastor swiftly freed his aching cock, a hand lazily pumping his flushed member. Despite his aversion to touching himself, he sighed into the relief his hand provided.

"Won't you please… allow me to use your sweet lips instead, pet?"

How could you say no, with his words tumbling out sweetly?

With a speed that made Alastor dizzy, you beckoned him to you, tongue first. He allowed you to kiss the head of his flushed cock, eyes drinking in your expressions and your body. He had half a mind to cut the rope holding you hostage, but decided against it when you took him into your warm mouth. Alastor hastily covered his lips, stifling a groan as his other hand fisted your hair. You didn't mind, hollowing your cheeks as you took as much of him in as you could. His public hair tickled the very tip of your nose, his musk invading your senses. Had his mind been clearer, Alastor would've worried about your ability to breathe... but he had to focus on not throat fucking you first.

"Shit-- so warm--," Alastor groaned, his voice still muffled. Despite this, his words reached your perked ears, and causing your wet entrance to flutter around nothing. Alastor flinched, his hips spasming as you took him down to his base. He was jammed far into your throat, your eyes rolling back as you tried to relax around his engorged member. A choked noise and a sputter erupted around his cock, a pleased moan eagerly following. As much as Alastor was enjoying himself, you would be lying if you said choking on Alastor's cock wasn't fun for you.

"Fuck, don't hurt yourself, darling-- I don't need-- FUCK--" The moment you started to bob your head, all words and worries flew out the window, the hand in your hair beginning to guide your descent. Alastor felt like he was being incinerated, his body electrified by your wriggling tongue and tight mouth. His restraint was beginning to wane, hair fanning across his sweat-slicked forehead," Fuck, you take this so well-- Take ME so well--"

Alastor panted, hardly able to keep his eyes open as you whined around him. His grip in your hair grew harsher, his hips beginning to stir.

"So malleable, so eager-- Good God--" Alastor's head fell forward as you created a delicious, tight suction around his dick. The sensation nearly drove him to bellowing, your name tumbling clumsily from his parched lips. He stared at the point where his cock disappeared into your mouth, then up to your teary eyes. Fresh tears spilled over your flushed cheeks, his words causing a shiver to run up your spine. Alastor, completely enthralled, felt his cock throb at the sight of your desperation, gritting his teeth," FUCK-- Damn it all--!"

Straining to reach out of sight, his hand ends up landing on a carving knife. Once he could grip it properly, he hastily swings above you. You flinch for a moment, before your arms relax and fall to your sides. You realized he cut you loose, but you had no time to dabble on the thought. Alastor's cock slid out of your mouth, your jaw setting into a neutral, open shape. Alastor started to stroke himself hastily, using his other hand to gesture in a circle," Turn around-- on all fours. NOW."

You didn't hesitate when that dark, brisk command was thrown your way, clambering like a newborn deer. You turn to look back at him, wagging your hind in a teasing way," Don't want to waste a drop, huh?" you teased, a coy smile on your face. Alastor laughed, breathy and high, as he fell to his knees. He easily towered over you as he aligned himself to your dribbling, plush entrance," You know me too well, love."

The plunge of his cock nearly knocked you onto your stomach, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. To your pleasant surprise, Alastor had bottomed out inside of you. There was a slight discomfort from the sudden intrusion (one that wasn't unwelcome) as a strong arm wrapped around your torso.

" B-Bear with me. I'll fill you up soon, dear--"

You nearly cried as Alastor began to move, hips already hammering into your most intimate place at an animalistic rate. You were truly fucking like rabbits, unable to do anything but chase your own desires. Alastor buried his face into your neck, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his grunts. You were unable to stifle your own, the sounds of your ecstasy bouncing around the room. The steady, rhythmic squelching of your privates were almost drowned out by the steady plap, plap, plap against your ass with every brutish press. You were getting close... And as Alastor's voice rose with yours, you realized he couldn't be fa behind. You allowed yourself to fall forward, cheek smashed against the grain of the floorboards as you arched your back," F-Fuck… fuck me, Alastor-- Hah-- Oh god, please--" Your eyes slammed shut as Alastor's pace only increased, his hips angling in a way that stroked your g-shot with every press.

"Yes, love-- fuck yes, you want this? Harder? Faster? Fuck--" He accented your mental demands with more energy, a hand cupping your bouncing, right breast as the other caressed your stuffed pussy. He sought your puffy pearl at the apex of your cunt, and drew quick, deliberate circles into it.

" Fuck, fuck! I need you to cum-- Want you to cum--," Alastor begged, his breath hot and heavy in your ear," O-One more time, please-- then I'll make sure to fuck my-- Oh fuck! I'll fuck you full of my cum--"

Your mouth hung open, drool pooling under your cheek as you felt your orgasm building for the third time that night, your hands clawing into the wooden floor," F-Fahh-- ahh! Yes!!! Fuck me, shit-- fuck me stupid, Al!!!" you wailed, eyes flying open as he pinched your clit. You clamped resolutely around his cock, your body locking up-- Yes, yes, just a few more thrusts--

"FUCK!!!"

You came with a wail and a tremor, your lungs screaming for air as it was fucked right out of you. Alastor, watching and feeling your body unravel under him, was unable to last any longer. He pressed his forehead into your shoulder, humping once, twice, thrice until he delivered a deep, devastating thrust. Your name became a debauched mantra as you milked his cock, spurts of hot, white seed painting your core. You trembled as you felt it being fucked into you, Alastor sighing into your shoulder.

"Sh-Shit… Shit, I love you. God, I fucking love you--" Alastor cursed into your shoulder, his hips stirring again," I-I can't stop-- fuck, you keep sucking me back in--"

You whined as Alastor started to rut into you again, his hardened length not wavering in the slightest. Like an animal in heat, he proceeded to fuck you through his own climax, eager to fill you up again," F-Fuck, I'm sorry-- You feel too good. Fuck, this is--"

You did your best to look behind you, lips clumsily kissing his temple, his forehead-- whatever you could reach," H-Hahn… hah, it's okay! Pl-Please, use me… F-Fuck, you can use me again! I wanna feel you cum in me again, Al!"

Alastor needed little convincing, his overstimulation outweighed by his desire. The cries that dripped from your mouth were sweeter than the honey and slick between your legs," G-God-- God, mon amour-- FUCK!"

You were smiling deliriously as Alastor used your sensitive cunt to chase another high, head foggy and vision blurry. You could do nothing but whine and shake as you were not only fucked through your orgasm, but felt your loins boil with an impending, new release. You couldn't say a word as each thrust pushed a scream from your diaphragm, Alastor's own throes of pleasure mirroring yours. The both of you made eye contact, and for the first time in a long time you saw… Alastor wasn't smiling?

Alastor's brow was knit together, face hard and yet so flushed as his mouth hung open in a wide, desperate "O". You felt your walls flutter around Alastor, the sight almost as beautiful as his trademark smile. Hastily, Alastor pulled you up by your throat, squeezing as you were forced to face away… The growl that was rumbled into your ear did little to slow down your peak.

The smile that danced across your face was unmatched; you had gotten Alastor to completely melt into you, unable to keep his 'armor' on. He was drunk off of your body, and he was unable to hide just how much he wanted both of you to cum. You mentally cheered, unable to shake the feeling of victory as that tension in your belly snapped. You unleash a broken, primal scream as Alastor fills your womb with another load, his semen spilling out from your writhing cunt. Completely out of breath, both of your collapse to the floor. You were left gasping and wheezing as Alastor sunk into you deeper, fully sheathed and pressing into your cervix. The sensation just made you whimper into your afterglow, lips twitching as you both wound back down…

You both lay on the floor like this for a few moments-- hell, maybe for an hour-- trying to regain your bearings. Trembling hands caressed your body, while your own reached up to pet and stroke at soft, chestnut brown hair. A tired chuckle fills your ears as Alastor closes his eyes, a content sigh rolling off his chest.

"You never fail to amaze me. And, of course… you never fail to make me cum either," Alastor admits, a sheepish blush creeping across his face. You nod, your laughter just as meek," Y-Yeah… fuck, you… you did all the work," you quipped, feeling Alastor shake his head. He kissed at your shoulders, trailing them up your neck and to your heated cheeks.

"Darling, if anything deserves the praise, it would be your nethers… She put on quite a show." You lightly elbowed him in the ribs, the both of you laughing like teenagers," Or maybe your brain… for coming up with a delicious roleplaying scenario?"

You hum for a moment to contemplate, before sighing," Fair enough… I'll take that," you profess, looking up and back towards your exhausted partner," Alastor?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Thank you again, for all of this... and-- sorry about slapping you earlier," you chuckle, your face burning under Alastor's sweet gaze. He seemed entirely unbothered, shrugging," Ahh, nothing but a passionate act in the heat of the moment. Think nothing of it-- as long as you don't mind me slapping this again~" You squeaked as your ass received a playful tap, like a friendly, sportsman’s slap of approval.

"Good job~"

You rolled underneath Alastor, his cock finally freed when you sprawled out onto your back. You invited him to lay his head on your chest, which he gladly accepted. You could feel the tension in his body dissipate the moment he laid down, his eyes fluttering closed. You brushed the hair away from his face, giggling at the adorable sight of your dopey, sleepy lover.

"Alastor... don't fall asleep on me, now. We still need to get back to the cabin." Alastor groaned, brow furrowing. Stubborn as a bull, he nuzzled into your chest face-first, sighing as your heartbeat lulled him," Just a few more minutes, dear… I don't believe either of us could stand, even if we wanted to."

You hummed, patting Alastor on the head as you conceded," Touché… But I blame you for that."

"And not our heated chase, dearest?"

You snort as you try not to laugh, belly aching from holding back," Fuck, that's fair... Maybe we can play a little closer to home next time?" You smile down at your partner as he adjusts himself. Finally, he came up for air as his chin settled between your breasts, his eyelids still heavy from exhaustion.

"Oh sweetheart, where would the fun be in that? You know I love a good chase~"

He moved further up, caging your body with his as he gave you a tender, quick kiss," You can run, hide, do whatever you like... as long as we both have fun, that's all that matters– our legs be damned..." You can't help but nod and laugh, pushing Alastor back into your bosom. Your sleepy beau can't help but hum in approval, your chest a warm, welcoming pillow.

"You're right... that's all that matters. But really, I-- I love you, Alastor. I can’t help but thank you again. For all of this…" Your partner stills for a moment, a dark, intense flush coming across his face and neck. You can't help but laugh as he hides his face into your chest again, sighing dramatically," I love you too, mon ange... For now, I'll settle for saying it, as I'm far too tired to show you again right now..."

You chuckle as you crane your neck down, kissing his crown before letting your head thunk against the floor," You already show me more than enough, baby... More than you know."

The silence is calming, even comfortable as the two of you find yourselves drifting off to sleep. Thankfully, the autumn heat and the union of your bodies was more than enough to keep you warm. Both of you allowed yourselves just one, brief nap while the crickets and cicadas harmonized outside the window... A perfect, peaceful conclusion to a passionate, relentless hunt.

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #human!alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x oc #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel imagine #human!alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #female reader #alastor x female reader #GOD THIS TOOK TOO LONG HAHAHAHA #ieatcocoa I hope this is what you wanted and like #I get so nervous sometimes dhoudhodhdoidjd #but I wanted to keep this a surprise for you #hdohsosihsisoisjsvdiodius #IF ITS NOT YOUR BIRTHDAY IT IS NOW

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 13: You Made a Plaything Out of Romance

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter thirteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 7.3K (And every word hurts, except the beginning the beginning is nice and then it goes downhill)

Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+. This one is sad guys. References to sex, Implied Sex, Nudity (lying in bed with someone the morning after), Brief explicit sexual encounter (it's like one sentence), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: This one took me a while to write, because it was painful. I can neither confirm nor deny that I cried when I wrote it. But I hope y'all hate it as much as I do.

1984

Soft light from under your floral curtains kisses your face as you wake from sleep, your arms tightening around Ben with a happy sigh as the memories of the night before blanket you in a soft cocoon of love and warmth. You had imagined that night many times over the years you'd been with Ben, but none of them compared to the real thing.

A dull throb of pain coats your limbs and body, that serves as a gentle reminder of exactly how you spent the late hours and the early hours of the morning with Ben, but it was a happy reminder. The memories of last night were passionate and more wonderful than you could have imagined. All thoughts of leaving him wiped away by one night filled with love that was all you wanted for so long. Because now there wasn’t a point in leaving, now that you had the one person you’d wanted since you were eight, you’d never leave him ever again.

You can feel the soft drag of Ben's hand against your back, coaxing you into a peaceful glow of contentment. You were laying on his muscular chest, your head directly over his heart, listening to the steady beat, your arm wrapped in an possessive hold over his body and you never wanted to leave. You wanted to exist in this moment the rest of your life, laying here with the man who'd had your heart for so long, finally at peace and finally allowing yourself to show him how much you loved him and how much he meant to you. Apart of you couldn't believe that this was real, and was worried that you'll wake up and the bed will be cold and Ben will be gone.

"Good morning." Ben's voice rumbles up through his chest. He moves his free hand to push back some of the hair that has fallen into your face, a content smile gracing his perfect lips as he allows his hand to brush over your cheeks.

"Good morning." You smile, leaning into his touch, before you press a kiss directly over his heart. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not too long."

"You didn't want to wake me up?"

"No." He murmurs, his hand still stroking your back in a soft smooth motion, that trails sunshine down your spine. "You're cute when you're asleep.

"Only when I'm asleep?" You tease, propping yourself up so you can look in his eyes, your hair tickling over his chest and you're sure that you must look ridiculous, but you don't care.

He looks better this morning than usual, you decide, noting the sweep of his dark hair over his brow and the sleepy haze in his eyes. His lips are a little red and swollen from when you kissed him and you assume your own look the same.

"No." Ben shakes his head, slowly, smiling down at you, and you can't help but kiss him, brushing your lips against his and letting him set your nerve endings on fire. Ben's happy smile against your mouth makes you want to melt into him and never leave, to curl up inside his heart and let yourself be filled with the glow of his love. “How are you?”

“Good, better than good.” You tighten your arm over his chest. “Just a little sore-“ You smile against his lips.

You hadn’t meant it like a bad thing, if anything, you liked it a little bit, but judging by Ben’s reaction to those words you understood that he took it the wrong way.

Ben’s eyes widen, his own smile faltering. He grabs the blanket wrapped around your waist raising it, so his eyes can trace your body to look for bruises. “Did I hurt you?” Ben’s eyes lock with yours once more, voice tinged with worry in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

“No you didn’t.” Your hand gently falls on his cheek to reassure him. “It was perfect.” For a second you're afraid you said too much, but then Ben’s crooked smile breaks something inside of you.

“Yeah, it was.” He whispers, turning to press a kiss to your palm.

The look in his eyes is soft, filled with so many unspoken things that it makes you dizzy. He’s never once looked at you like that and you know you’ll never get used to it. Because he’s looking at you the way you saw the elderly couple look at each other all those years ago, when you longed for the same thing to happen to you, longed for a man to look at you that way. And you’re sure you’re looking at him the same way, because now it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to hide how you feel about him. There’s no more frustration or anger, there’s only love that crashes over your head and pulls you out to sea with Ben.

“And It’s a good sore.” You smile sheepishly, cheeks blushing under his gaze. “I wouldn’t mind-um-getting used to it.”

“Oh really?”

You nod, hand still cupping Ben’s cheek.

“Huh.” Ben's smile turns into a mischievous smirk.

All of a sudden he flips you over so that you’re on your back with him hovering over you, smirk more pronounced than it was a few seconds ago. As he does so, your bed makes a terrible creaking sound and shifts to the right precariously on its last leg, literally.

You snort, pressing your lips together, body shaking with stifled laughs. Ben presses his head to your shoulder laughing too, the rich sound of his voice sending tingles down you spine. His eyes shine with laughter as he leans down to kiss you again.

“You owe me a new bed.” You mutter against his lips.

“I think we are both responsible for breaking it.” Ben's hands stroke along your sides, before he drops back down to kiss you.

“Well as slutty as you are I’d think that you would know how to avoid breaking one.” You tease raising a hand to brush his dark hair out of his eyes and Ben leans into your touch. You loved how he responded to you, it reminded you so much of how you felt whenever he touched you, like he couldn't get enough and he never wanted it to stop.

“Did you just call me a slut?” He pulls back with a frown.

“Yes. I did.” You laugh at his sullen expression.

Even when he frowns he's handsome. How did I get this lucky?

"You're lucky you're so cute." Ben sighs. “I’ve broken a few, but I will say I had the most fun breaking this one.”

His words make your heart thud madly in your chest in understanding. It confirms the thing that you had been thinking since you woke up, that last night meant everything to Ben too, that it wasn’t just sex for him. That he wanted to be there with you. And it made you smile wider.

Ben’s eyes are locked with yours, so much love and care slipping through his gaze that it makes you dizzy. “Next time we can break my bed. Just so we’re even.” He finishes capturing your lips with his, the words next time circling on your head on repeat.

You kiss him back eagerly, wanting to be lost forever in the warmth of the two of you together, because it’d finally happened, you’d finally gotten your Ben.

Your fingers scratch against the back of his head softly as you gaze up into his bright green eyes. You couldn’t believe it, after all these years he was yours, your best friend and now the man you love with all your heart. Your entire chest soars with emotion, smile stretching across your face so wide that you knew it probably wasn’t attractive but you couldn’t stop. You were so blissfully happy for the first time in years and you wanted to share that happiness with him the rest of your life.

“What?” Ben smiles down at you almost tenderly, so different than the way he looked when it wasn’t the two of you. One of his hands strokes the curve of your hip to bring your leg up to wrap around his waist the other brushes your wild tangles from your face, tracing the dips and curves of your cheek and jaw with a fingertip as if he wishes to commit each one to memory. He touches you with a reverence that you’d never imagine possible, a gentleness that is so different than Soldier Boy that it takes your breath away, like you’re a marble statue and he wishes to understand your beauty.

You move both of your hands to cup his cheeks feeling the wonderful scratch of stubble against the smooth skin, smile still firmly in place. And you finally say the three words that have haunted you since you were children. “I love you.”

Ben blinks. “What?”

“I love you Ben.” Your heart thuds madly in your chest remembering the past 24 hours when he made you feel special and loved, just how you’d imagined it so many times.

You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop smiling, ever be able to stop feeling so warm as if you were catching fire.

Ben doesn’t move, his muscles tensing.

“Ben?” You’re still smiling, hoping that he’ll say it back, expecting that. Because how could he not? How could he not and be so caring and attentive? How could he make love to you like that, hold you close, take care of you after, dance with you, buy you a thoughtful gift, and take you out for your birthday each year and not love you? How could he look at you like you were the only person in the world and not feel the same way?

“I-“ He looks at you earnestly eyes soft in the morning light, his touch warm against your cheek, as if drinking you in. "I-" But then the softness in his green eyes is gone replaced by a familiar hardness that makes the warm feeling evaporate in your chest. Ben glances at the alarm clock on your bedside table. “Fuck is that the time?”

“What?” You ask confused by the change.

“I have a meeting with Legend.” He rolls off of you, pulling his face from your hands, and out of bed making it buck and shudder, not embarrassed by his nakedness. It was like he suddenly needed to be as far away from you as possible, and it was like someone dropped a bucket of ice water over your head.

You sit up, clutching the blankets to your chest in confusion. He moves around the room trying to find his clothes where you practically ripped them off his body last night.

“You do? I thought you just had the premiere tonight?”

Ben never scheduled things the same day as a premiere. He liked to spend the early part of the day drinking and imbibing in whatever he wanted so he didn’t have to be sober when he got there. He didn’t like to deal with the reporters, fans, and other people sober. Honestly, you didn't either, but you'd rather acquire a buzz while you were there, rather than before.

But today was different. You were hoping that this time it meant you and Ben would spend the next hours together enjoying one another before you had to go, spending as much time together in bed as possible. Hoping that at the premiere maybe you could announce your relationship, not that the press deserved that, but after all these years you wanted people to know that Ben was yours and you believed that he would be happy to say that you were his. Especially given what he had said before taking you to bed.

“No. I’ve got to talk to him about some shit for that thing in Nicaragua. That fucker Stan is gonna be there-“ Ben walks around the room picking up articles of clothing and refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Are you sure? I thought we could go to that diner on the corner and get some breakfast.“ You try to catch his eye, but Ben turns away as if he's looking for his shoes, hard to believe given the fact that they were sitting in the opposite direction. "You really liked it last time-"

“Sorry baby I can’t.”

The nickname “baby” is like taking a bullet to the chest. Ben never called you that, Sweetheart yes, Doll, yes, but never baby. It was reserved for the other women. The endless cycle of women that Ben bedded and then never talked to again. It was his way of putting distance between them and him and you knew that better than anyone. And the fact that he called you that made uncertainty pulse in the back of your throat. You try to shake it off and try again.

“Oh well. You’re still picking me up for the premiere right? We always go together-“

“I’m not sure how long the meeting will run so I’ll see you there.” He won’t meet your eye as he pulls up his pants, the harsh sound of his zipper like a slap in the face.

“But Ben-“ Your start to say, your heart sinking.

“I gotta fucking go.” Ben snaps.

“Oh, Okay.”

He looks in your general direction one more time, not quite meeting your eyes, and not apologizing, but then he turns and leaves the room, not even taking the time to put on his shirt or his shoes.

What just happened?

When you finally force yourself to get out of bed to go to the bathroom, you see your reflection in the mirror, hair a tangled mass, lips bright red and swollen from Ben, and the prominent mark he left behind in the shadow of your jaw that marked you as his.

As you stand there examining your reflection, the pain of his rejection hits you all over again, causing you to crumble against the counter, hands tightening so hand in the marble vanity that it comes apart in your hands.

You weren't sure if it was a rejection, rather it was the abruptness of how he left that scared you. How easily he slipped back into the façade of Soldier Boy after spending the entire night with you and making you believe that every moment was special.

The memory of last night sends a wave of warmth through your body, goosebumps prickling against your skin. But this time a cold shock of the way he left strikes your heart.

Maybe he really did have a meeting. But then why did he have to leave immediately after I told him that I loved him?

The memory of how happy you were in that moment makes you cry harder, when you told him the one thing you'd longed to for so long, while he looked at you with so much love that it made you feel more happy than you ever had.

You knew that Ben had a difficult time expressing that and feelings in general, but the way he acted last night at dinner and after when he made love to you, spoke greater than that. He had to love you, had to care about you.

Didn't he?

"Indigo over here!"

"Indigo who are you with tonight?"

"Indigo what do you have to say about the rumors of you and Noir being in a relationship?"

The questions are coupled with flashes of brilliant light as you wave and force a wide smile on the red carpet. Tonight Legend had insisted that you wear the new supe suit he had designed for you, the one that didn't require a hood and the only thing that hid your identity was a black eye mask that looked suspiciously like the red one Countess wore.

But you weren't focused on that, or the reporters, all you could think of was Ben.

He hadn't called and hadn't answered any of the three phone calls that you placed to his apartment at the time you guessed he would be home getting ready. You even left messages, but he still never called.

Each minute you stayed away from him you could feel the crack in your heart growing wider and wider. You still didn't understand why he did that, why he left as soon as you said the words you wished to for so long.

You had felt like a weight had lifted from your chest when you said them, wanted to live in the warmth that followed as you gazed up at the man you loved finally able to let him know how you felt.

And then he'd run away.

You'd spent the rest of the time before the premiere trying to convince yourself that it was a coincidence, that maybe he really did have a meeting with Stan and Legend about Nicaragua. But you wondered why you weren't told about it.

Stan had been making such a big deal about it, about what it meant to finally have supes help in the military. Not to mention Stan usually liked having you at those kind of meetings, because you were able to keep Ben calm.

So then that begged the questions: Why did Ben lie? Why did he run away?

As you weave your way through the crowded lobby of the movie theater you spot Ben up ahead, his back was to you, but then you freeze halfway to him. His muscular arm is wrapped around Countess's waist, pulling her into his side so tightly that her free hand is resting on the front of his supe suit in the middle of his chest where you had pressed a kiss to hours ago. He leans down to whisper into her ear and she laughs, before whispering something back that makes Ben's hand squeeze her hip.

All of a sudden you're transported back to your 16th birthday, when Ben showed up with Missy Callahan, who flaunted him right under your nose. But this is worse.

It's worse because you can't think of anything else but last night, when Ben kissed you, held you close, made you feel more loved and appreciated than you ever had. When he made every moment you spent together feel special, when he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.

Tears build behind your eyes as you stand there staring at them, all the other patrons passing by in shades of multicolored dresses and suits, with the sound of Countess's laughter echoing in your ears.

When Ben and Countess walk towards the theater you follow, hoping to catch his eye, wishing that he would look at you. They choose their seats in the front row, Countess sitting down on Ben's left, and just as you try to sit on Ben's right, Gunpowder slides into the seat on Ben's right, your usual seat.

"I was actually going to sit there." You say, and this time Ben looks away from Countess to see you for the first time. You wait to see some kind of recognition in his eyes, see some semblance of the man you woke up with in your bed, but you see none of the warmth he had earlier.

He looks indifferent, and the frustration and anger makes tears burn behind your eyes, but you keep them down.

"Sorry Indigo. The director told me to sit here because I'm in the movie." Gunpowder shrugs, but he doesn't quite meet your eyes.

Each time this had happened in the past Ben would shove either Gunpowder or Countess out of the seat so you could sit next to him, even though he hated that you usually mocked whatever movie it was endlessly. But this time Ben does nothing, only sits there.

How can he do this? How can he act like nothing happened between us? How-

The next thought is lost in another wave of emotion that crashes over your head, but you refuse to cry in front of Countess, who is the only one really looking at you. Ben's eyes are on you, but they're cold, unyielding, nothing like the soft clover they were last night when he took you to bed and made you feel special.

"Ben can we talk?" You ask.

"I don't want to miss the premiere." He replies, taking a swig from the glass full of scotch in the cupholder between him and Gunpowder.

"I think this is more important-" You begin to say.

"You should find a seat. The movie is starting." Countess interrupts with a smirk, running her hand up Ben's muscular arm where it lays on the arm between their chairs. You watch the drag of her hand and you feel like the sixteen year old girl in the monstrosity of tulle watching the boy you loved dance with another girl, who made you feel ugly and fat.

You hadn't felt like that girl in a long time, especially not in the last 24 hours when Ben made you feel beautiful and sexy in the best way. The memories of the time you spent together flash through your mind. When each time he moaned your name made you proud to know that you could do that to him, that you could cause him to fall apart, that you could leave your mark on him, make him be lost in you the way that you were lost in his every caress.

Ben doesn't say anything as the commercials begin to play behind you on the large screen, only sits there allowing Countess to touch him.

"Um- yeah. I guess I should." You whisper, swallowing the ball of emotion before shuffling away to find a seat. It's several rows back, in the aisle away from them, next to someone who smells like they've bathed in whiskey.

And damn it all it does is remind you of Ben. Your eyes don't leave him and Countess where they sit and each time you watch them whisper and hear her giggle you feel yourself sink lower and lower into the pit of despair.

Finally when the movie is over you try to chase after Ben, to corner him because you want to know why he's doing this, why he's acting this way, why he's finally allowing Countess to have him the way that she always tried to in the past. The exact thing that he and you mocked her for late at night when the two of you were talking at your apartment. Ben hated her almost as much as you did, or you thought he did.

But he expertly avoids you, like he knows you're following him, given his super-hearing it didn't seem that far from the truth. You follow him through the theater and into the banquet hall where the afterparty is occurring, ignoring the clinking of glasses, the soft music from the band on the stage, and the laughter coming from the people around you who are too drunk already to remember any of this.

Something you wish you were, drunk that is. You didn’t want to forget last night, you just wanted to know why Ben was acting this way. You didn't want forget the way he touched you, the way he felt, the way he made everything else melt away so that it was just the two of you, exactly what you had longed for. You wanted to understand.

Because maybe I did misjudge what last night was, but I couldn't have. The memory of this morning before he left blankets your mind in a cocoon of warmth all over again. You don't look at someone like that, hold them close like that, agree that last night was perfect if it was just sex.

The thought made you irrationally angry.

"Indigo." You hear someone say and touch your arm.

"Huh?" You turn to see Dr. Vogelbaum. He was wearing a dark blue suit, perfectly tailored, with a red tie. Very patriotic, but also surprising. He had never seemed the type to want to come to one of these premieres. "Dr. Vogelbaum, I didn't know you were here."

"I thought I'd come and see what all the fuss was about." He smiles tightly. "Would you like to dance?"

"Um-" You look over the crowds of people dancing in the center of the room. You didn't feel like dancing, you still wanted to corner Ben, drag him away to another room where you could ask him what the hell was going on. He'd never done anything like this before, never iced you out even when he was really pissed off, he'd always find you.

So why was this any different? Was he angry? Upset by what I said? Why would that upset him? You think about how happy he looked when you were laying on his chest and how he leaned into your touch. I thought he’d be happy. He was happy up until I said “I love you.” So why would that change anything?

"I don't really feel like dancing-"

"Please, oblige me. A woman as beautiful as you shouldn't be here alone." Vogelbaum smiles as he pulls you onto the dance floor, ignoring your protests.

You begin to sway back and forth to the song, but everything feels wrong. It makes you think of last night, when Ben held you close and finally kissed you for the first time while your song played. And now this entire night feels like a mistake, last night feels like a mistake, everything that's happened the past forty years feels like a mistake.

He spins you away from him, and as you turn you see Ben. You didn't realize that he was standing on the edge of the dance-floor watching you and Vogelbaum. His arm is still wrapped around Countess, who is practically attached at the hip, talking with another woman in a long blue dress in front of her. You watch his jaw tighten as he takes in Vogelbaum’s hand placement, a dark look flashing in his eyes, but just as you try to identify it, Countess drags her hand up the front of his suit, grabbing his attention, and goes on tiptoe to whisper something in his ear.

How could I have been so stupid? You think to yourself watching him drop his gaze to her and smile. The thought makes tears burn against your eyes. You couldn't understand, couldn't understand why he was doing this, ignoring you and getting friendly with Countess. And you couldn't understand how he could shift from hot to cold so suddenly, how he could act like you were the only person he saw to not even looking at you, refusing to speak to you, acting cold and indifferent. Ben had never once done that to you, had never once acted that way, even when he was mad.

Vogelbaum pulls you back into his chest, but the way his body feels against yours is wrong. "He's quite the flirt isn't he?"

"Huh?" You look up from his tie.

"Soldier Boy." He's watching them over your head, but you don't want to look at them anymore, you don't want to watch Ben with Countess and feel ugly, feel like you weren't enough, feel like the girl who only had one friend and a mother she could never please.

"Yeah." You mutter.

"Legend mentioned that you were thinking about retiring." He continues oblivious to your current state.

The mention of your plan to leave makes you remember it. You hadn't thought about it since Ben picked you up for dinner the night before, when you had been drinking and finally decided to leave, to walk away from everything and do something for yourself.

And now you wished you had. You wished that you had slammed the door in Ben's face when he came to get you last night, wished that you had told him that you were leaving, and wished that you had been strong enough to say no to him. The memories of last night come back to you, how it felt to kiss him for the first time, how happy you were because you believed he loved you as much as you loved him, how he cared about your first time being special-

The tears are so close to falling now that your jaw is clenched together so tight that you think you hear the crunch of your teeth cracking.

"Yes. I'm retiring." You respond.

"Well, if you're looking for a change of pace I might have a job for you."

"I'm not really a scientist-"

"It wouldn't be a science job and I think you should come to the lab this week-"

"The last time I was in a lab, all this supe shit started." You snap before you stop yourself. "Forgive me for not wanting to have that happen again."

"It's not an experiment." He continues to sway the two of you back and forth. "I've been working on a project with Stan and we both thought that you could help us."

"How?"

"Well we've been focusing on the next generation of supes and what that will look like-"

"Next generation?"

"Yes. And I know someone that might benefit from meeting you. I've been working very closely with him and he needs a strong figure in his life, you have some things in common-"

"I'm not interested in being a babysitter."

"Why don't you just come by this week and meet him? I'm sure you'd hit it off-"

"I said I wasn't interested." You pull yourself from his arms. "I'm done with all of this."

"Indigo-" He reaches for your wrist.

"If you touch me again, I'm going to rip off your arm." You force a smile knowing that the cameras are still flashing, and say it low enough so that he is the only one that can hear.

Vogelbaum immediately moves back from you, putting as much space as he can and you turn back to where you saw Ben standing a few minutes ago, but he's gone.

You stand there in the middle of the dance floor for a minute, not sure what to do, so you decide to go to the bathroom to collect your thoughts. And you immediately regret your decision.

Before the door of the bathroom opens all the way you know, call it a feeling or a psychic premonition, but you do.

You wish you were wrong, but you knew Ben better than anyone, or at least you thought you did.

You can feel it in the air, hear the rapid beating of their hearts and the loud moans, smell the sour odor of sweat, but you're still not prepared for what's waiting for you. Countess's hands are braced on the white marble of the sink in front of her, Ben's hand fisted tightly in her hair, pulling her head back to where his face is buried in her throat, her own face contorted in an expression of pure ecstasy, with each snap of Ben's hips as he crushes her against the sink.

The bathroom door slams shut loudly behind you, drawing Ben's gaze to where you stand, your hands clenched tightly into fists, the skin pulled tight over your knuckles. He freezes and for a moment you think he looks sorry, but then it's gone, fading into the hardened expression he's had since you told him that you loved him.

You don't know what to feel, anger, frustration, heartbreak, and rage all form a white hot ball in the pit of your stomach. You have the sudden urge to throw up and also burn the entire building down to the ground, but you can't move, can't look away from where they stand.

"Baby why'd you stop." Countess gasps, reaching back with a hand for Ben, but he steps away from her, to zip up his pants. Countess finally looks over at where you're standing and smirks. "Oh hey y/n. I didn't know you were here."

Her face is flushed red, almost the same color of her hair as she reaches down for her pants and drags them back up her body. The proud look in her eyes makes you snap your jaw together to fight the urge to rip her in half.

“There are private rooms for that.” You keep your voice as monotone as possible, pushing down the heartbreak and the anger that burns against your skin.

“It’s much more fun when anyone can walk in. Don’t you think so Ben?” Countess reaches for Ben, but he shrugs her off.

You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you taste blood, trying very hard not to lose control. You prided yourself on that, you hadn’t lost control in all your years as a supe.

Ben doesn't say anything.

“Get out.” You snap.

“I don’t think I will. We were in the middle of something-“ Countess's sultry smile widens. "Maybe you should leave so we can fini-"

Her body flies forward towards you, until her throat is clutched tightly between your right hand. “I’ve never liked you Countess. Other than a flash of light you're pretty worthless. Your powers the only thing that make you special, and I know that you need both of your hands to use them, right?" Your hand tightens on her throat and you know the next day she'll have bruises.

I should just kill her right now. Who would miss her?

She gasps for air, clawing against your hand, eyes wide. She'd never seen you lose control before, never seen you use your powers quite like this, and the fear in her eyes makes you feel better.

“So I suggest you get out. Before I rip them off and make you eat them.” You snarl before throwing her in the direction of the door behind you. She stumbles forward a step, placing a hand against the bathroom door as she catches her breath. When she turns back to look at you, her eyes are flashing with malice, but you can still see the pride under it all.

“Well I’ll see you two later. Hopefully we can finish what we started.” Countess smirks at you, recovering as she saunters out.

It takes an amazing amount of willpower not to drag her back into the room and rip her head off.

Ben adjusts his suit, not meeting your gaze. And for a second you think he looks guilty, but it’s gone as soon as you see it. His ridiculous helmet is laying on the floor next to him, probably took it off before-

Your jaw clenches together remembering what you walked in on.

“Ben why are you doing this?” You say, composing your voice as much as you can. You force yourself to look him in the eye, you want him to see how hurt you are.

“Doing what?” He crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow.

"You’re pushing me away, avoiding me, and acting like last night didn’t mean anything-"

"It didn’t.” He states. Ben's jaw is clenched tight, shoulders tense, as he begins to slip back into the façade of Soldier Boy that he adopted after you both got the serum.

Tears burn against your eyes at his sharp tone. You let out a shaky breath. "I don’t believe you. You don’t act that way, kiss me, hold my hand, make love like that and then pretend it never happened.”

“We didn’t make love, we fucked.” He snaps eyes blazing. “Don’t turn this into something that it’s not.”

“I’m not just talking about the sex. I’m talking about dinner, the dancing, remembering my birthday, getting me pearls because you remembered I lost mine, the fact that you had them play the song we danced to when we were 18-“

“So?”

“Why are you acting like you didn’t do any of those things?”

“I’m not saying I didn’t do them. I’m saying that you’re being damn hormonal and reading into it.”

“I’m not being hormonal!” You snap. “Are you really telling me that you did all of those things just to get into my pants and that you don’t feel anything for me? That what I said to you this morning meant nothing to you? After everything we’ve been through-“

“Everything we’ve been through?” Ben spits, suddenly angry. “All I know is for the last 40 years you’ve been getting in my way. You think I care about you? I don’t care about anyone! I’m Soldier Boy. I’m America’s first fucking superhero. And I could never care about someone like you. You’re pathetic. You’re always here, fucking with my decisions, following me around like a fucking lovesick puppy, standing in my damn way with those fucking stars in your eyes, trying to remind me of who I was before and I wish you would just fuck off!”

Your own anger surges up to push away the heartbreak at his harsh words. “You say that I’m always here, but it was your idea for us to do this. You did this to me Ben. I’m here because you wanted me to be, because you needed me. And it’s you that keeps showing up at my apartment. I don’t make you come over!”

The memory of the night he asked you to come with him rises at the back of your mind. You remember how happy you were to go with him because you thought it was as close as he would get to admitting that he loved you, and you had hoped that if you went with him it meant that he wanted to be more. You were not remembering wrong, you remembered exactly what he said that night, you knew that he acted like he needed you. So why was he lying now?

“I never wanted you here.” He takes a step forward, green eyes hardening. “I don’t fucking need you or anyone else. I’m not a pussy. I’m a man.”

Your teeth clench together in anger and frustration. “I don’t believe you. You say that you know all my tells when I’m lying, but I know yours too. So just tell me the truth!”

“That is the fucking truth. Are you too stupid to understand that? I don’t care about you, I never have!”

“Then why did you kiss me?”

Ben freezes.

“I didn’t initiate that kiss, you kissed me! You were the one that started whatever the hell happened last night!”

“So?”

“You’ve heard me talk about what I want. You addressed it at the table last night. You know that I want more than one night, you know that I want love, that I was willing to leave to find those things. I was ready to walk away from all of this Ben and then you fucked with my head. Did you kiss me and do those things because you thought it would keep me here with you? Because you can’t stand the thought of being alone?”

“I wouldn’t give a single fuck if you left. If you want to go then go. I won’t miss you and I’m not stopping you.”

“I don’t believe you and I don’t understand why you’re doing this, why you’re trying to push me away and act like you don’t care about me-" You shake your head in frustration.

Ben advances on you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly you know there will be bruises. Ben never touched you when he was angry, sure he’d stare you down, but Ben never did anything to harm you. It’s why you were never afraid of him, because Ben didn't want to hurt you. Even this morning you remember how worried he'd looked when you said you were sore, when he thought that it mean he hurt you. Ben cared about you. You knew he did.

But for him to do this was shocking and you can’t fight the shudder of fear that creeps along your spine.

“You mean nothing to me.” He growls. “You’re just another woman with a warm pussy. That’s all you are. I fucked you because you needed someone to and I thought it might as well be me. I don’t care about you. I never did. And I could never love some one like you. So get the fuck out of my way.” Ben pushes you from him so harshly that you fall back against the wall.

The memory of what your mother shouted at you the night you told her you were going with Ben settles over your mind.

“You really think that disappointment will ever love you? Care about you? You are nothing to him, just another plaything. And the day he finally tosses you away, don’t bother coming back here.”

Your mother's words were harsh, cut to the quick. You hated to admit it, but she was right. You understood that now, understood that the last forty years and all the years of your friendship had been a lie.

Ben didn't care about you, probably never did, he just saw you as a tool for his own amusement, and his harsh words were enough to make you realize that the boy you knew was gone and enough to jolt you into the new harsh reality.

Your hand flicks and Ben's body flies into the concrete wall on the other side of the bathroom hard enough to crack the solid cement. You find your feet, rising to your full height, hands glowing bright purple. The entire room trembles with the force of your anger, the mirrors shatter on the bathroom wall, raining down glass and metal onto where Ben sits stunned on the tile that has begun to crack and split with your display of power.

“That night you came to me I chose you. I chose you, Ben. I left everything behind for you because you asked me to. And I regret it. I regret every moment I have wasted caring about you and taking care of you. I have made excuses for you my entire life. To my family, to society, to your damn team, and to myself. I have stood by you through all of this and I never complained because you were my friend. I was here before and after you decided to take the serum, when your father broke you, when your mother died, when you needed someone to sit with you because you couldn’t take the silence alone, but not anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t be the voice of reason or your fucking babysitter and I can’t be your damn conscience. I shouldn’t have to. You are a man after all, so do it yourself.” The tears are falling freely now, searing against your skin as they trickle down your cheeks. “I tried to cut you some slack because you were my friend Ben, and I loved you.” Your voice breaks when you use the past tense. “But maybe that’s my fault, I romanticized you. I shouldn’t have but I did. I ignored so many things because I loved you but now, I’m fucking done.” You reach up to grab the pearl necklace around your throat, the one that you thought was ridiculous to wear with the supe suit, but the one you kept on because you wanted to remember last night and rip it off, sending the pearls rolling in every direction.

Because now you just wanted to forget it all, forget your friendship, forget the years you spent together, forget all the nights he spent in your bed, forget last night, and forget him.

Ben stands from the ground, brushing off his supe suit and for a second you think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t.

“I can’t do this with you anymore. I can’t stand by and watch you do this to yourself, embrace whatever the fuck kind of person you are now. I won’t. I never want to see you ever again. And the next time you touch me, I’ll kill you.” You turn to go, but then you stop short of the door. “You once told me that you never wanted to be your father, you wanted to be better than him. Funny. After all this time you still became him.” You spit.

You throw open the door and storm out as the mindless drone of people talking, glasses clinking, and buzz of music settle over your ears. But you don’t hear it, all you hear is the harsh words of the only man you’d ever loved and the feeling of your heart breaking in your chest.

A/N: Well this one was very sad and I hate myself for putting the reader through this. Let me know what y'all think :)

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know :)

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#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #jensen ackles #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jackles #the boys #the boys season 3 #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys s3

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panoffrying · 7 months ago

Text

My Dr. Sozonius LORE Headcanons

✨Warning this is a bit long✨

Sozo is a character that has lived for a very long time. Whatever that mushroom was on their head not only influenced Sozo but kept them immortal. We know really nothing bout Sozos past so I made some headcanons for silly fun and for me to visualize who Sozo was and what his life may have looked like. I want to do my best to keep this as game accurate as possible, so there will be quotes from the game. The quotes are not at all in order! I kinda just bring up random Sozo quotes as I go. Also I apologize if this doesn't make sense or if I ramble (I get excited about certain topics)

thank you so much @7moonbird for going over and editing this for me, Love ya Pookie!

And so we start:

Sozonius was born in the days of the old faith. He was present the day the Bishops declared the genocide of the lambs and he actually played a big part in assisting the lambs survival. However, he almost got caught and had to stop helping the lambs to keep his family safe. He's never seen any of the bishops(maybe) but his village was part of Darkwood and therefore under Bishop Leshy’s ruling.

VILLAGE

Sozonius village was mostly a colony of Carpenter Ants, there were a few other species living there too but it was mostly Carpenter Ants. I imagine there are different races of ants depending on the region they’re in; so there could be fire ants, pharaoh ants, and more! Most ants get along nicely and work together but sometimes other races of ants can be more temperamental and cause conflict between colonies. Carpenter ants are a more calm type of ants, they aren't aggressive but they are incredibly strong. Carpenters ants are known to live in trees; they hollow out trees to make their homes and they like to stay off the ground as much as possible in case of floods and other dangers.

In the colony they had their ruler, the “Queen,” who looked over the village and did queenly business (not gonna go too deep into it). Everyone had many different jobs, ants are hard workers and very strong. They made marvelous structures, farmed a lot of crops, and knew how to work together when there was a threat. Sozo’s village was one that many others would try making deals/trades with. I would talk more about his village but that's not why y’all are here lol.

Sozonius was a fellow damn near everyone in the village knew. He loved his work and he loved to talk about it to anyone that expressed that they wanted to listen. He was that guy that you could get stuck in a conversation with and struggle to end it. He liked to ramble about his work and kids. Other than that though he never really started conversations with others, he would keep to himself unless someone interacted with him.

And I could definitely see him having a science rival but nothing too bad lol.

FAMILY

“Where am I…? Where is… my family…?” are the words Sozo says when he turns back into Dr. Sozonius. I like to think he had a wife and two children. They didn’t have the best marriage but they made it work out for their two sons. His wife was a bit stubborn and very honest. She would say things before thinking which did cause issues, but Sozonius let it slide because he loved her so much and wanted a happy family for his sons.

Sozonius was a very funny dude. He made dad jokes all the damn time, his family would pretend to hate the jokes but in reality they did love them.

Sozo Dialogue “Now all Sozo can think about is mushrooms, mushrooms, MUSHROOMS… They don’t leave mush-room for anything else! Ha!”

(Also, this next idea is inspired off of @kuphulwho headcanons for Sozo. I loved her ideas and I recommend y'all look at her headcanons too!) Aside from Sozonius being a mycologist he had a side hobby of art! He wasn't the best artist, but he was really talented with sketching plants/fungi, he liked to make art of anything that interested him. He most likely wrote an educational picture book about Fungi, there's probably an old copy of it somewhere.

This art hobby caught the interest of his two sons, and they also started to pursue art. Sozonius would take his free time teaching his sons how to draw plants and such. Sozonius would hang his kids' art everywhere in their house, it was like walking into an art museum haha.

JOB

Sozonius studied mycology which means he studied fungi. Sozonius knew fungi could benefit his society and he wanted to help educate others about the importance of fungi. Soon he learned enough of a new discovery of mushroom people, neither plant nor animal…Sozonius then made the decision to go on a solo mission to study the Mushroomo people.

THE MUSHROOMOS

Dr. Sozonius Dialogue “My name is Dr. Sozonius. I was researching the Mushroomos that live in Spore Grotto… strange creatures, Neither animal nor plant…”

Sozonius went to Spore Grotto and at first, he studied the Mushroomo people from a distance setting up a campsite near the Mushroomo Village. When the Mushroomo people discovered Sozonius they welcomed him into their home, cheerful happy little things. Sozonius was given the chance to learn more about these strange creatures up close! How could he say no? Sozonius was welcomed into Spore Grotto and was treated like a god.

Sozonius asked the Mushroomos many questions, but getting any actual answers from them was difficult. The Mushroomos treated Sozonius like he was their most special guest, they danced and sang for Sozonius. They would mimic Sozonius and follow him around, making sure to do anything he asked of them. There would be many times when the Mushroomos would offer to feed Sozonius menticide mushrooms but Sozonius knew a lot about fungi and declined their offers. However, there seemed to be a special Ritual the Mushroomos took part in…

Sozonius had been in Spore Grotto for many weeks now, it was time for him to leave, he had studied enough and was ready to return home but the Mushroomos were surprisingly sad when he announced this. They wanted to show Sozonius a sacred ritual to them before he left, he wasn't aware of the menticide mushrooms being part of it…

Dr. Sozonius Dialogue “They gave me Menticide Mushrooms, and then… that’s the last thing I remember…”

After Sozonius was tricked into eating menticide mushrooms and also gave Sozonius a crown, a crown that would grow into Sozoniuss mind, he shall be the Mushroomos leader… And the new Sozo was made. (literally just think of Ice Age 2 when the lil sloths take Sid to be their fire king, however they don't sacrifice him)

The mushroom on Sozos head is very powerful, it makes me wonder what it is exactly, it gives the person wearing it immortality, but also causes the user to go insane (don't forget that Sozo is also being fed menticide mushrooms) the mushroom crown kinda reminds me of Chemachs crown. It seems to have a mind of its own and a face. I feel like the Mushroomos for days straight made sure to give Sozo a diet of only menticide mushrooms to make him forget everything and to possibly power the mushroom crown. They would constantly tell Sozo that his mind would be open and free, that it would make him feel better, and Sozo being under the influence of the mushroom listened to them.

A Mushroomo Dialogue "Once you taste the Menticide Mushroom your mind will be opened."

As the years went by so did all the sanity Sozonius had left, but in some moments Sozonius seems to still be aware but not all there.

Sozo Dialogue “Sozo had friends... Followers... family... now Sozo has mushrooms..."

Sozo over time seems to start to dislike his followers and call them liars. He even becomes quite cruel to his followers. Yet he also mentions that he trusts the lamb and wants the lamb to protect him from his followers which makes me believe that Sozonius is somehow a little aware and fighting against the mushroom crown’s influence. He is mad at the Mushroomos for lying to him, tricking him, making him into who he is now.

Sozo Dialogue “No need to thanks Sozo. Build it at your Cult then come back to me. Sozo shall grant you one last gift. Sozo is always fair. Always repays this debts. Not like those LIARS out there."

"You did it! Now I know I can trust you... not like those nasty liars outside. They are always watching, always listening! Here take this. You are Sozo's best friend, you are Sozo's only friend."

"Sozo can trust you now, Sozo will pledge himself to you! You will protect me from those liars outside and bring Sozo mushrooms!"

(Also a side note that my gf brought to my attention last second lol! Apparently parasitic mushrooms rely on insects to spread. That is probably why they tricked Sozonius into staying and eating menticide mushrooms. Maybe it's been that long since they've seen an insect)

SOZOS IMPRISONMENT

So, this next little headcanon of mine is an interesting one and might be confusing to explain. Was Sozonius imprisoned within his own mind while under the control of the mushroom crown? If he was, I can see him being stuck in a sort of loop, imagining his family and friends. Think like Mabel's Bubble from ‘Gravity Falls’ weirdmageddon. Sozonius is trapped in a mental bubble, stuck in a false reality as the now mushroom-infected Sozo takes over his body and actions.

In Sozonius’s mental bubble he is in a place where trees are big, tall mushrooms and flowers are mushrooms, everywhere he turns its mushrooms. He knows something is wrong, everything is too strange, everyone he loves is there with him but is it real? It feels like he's living in a dream. Sozonius proceeds to talk to his friends and family as if they are actually there in which I noticed that Sozo will talk to the menticide mushrooms as if they are actual people.

Sozo Dialogue “Precious, perfect little mushrooms, Sozo is here now, Sozo will always be here…”

”Sozo is busy now… Sozo must commune with the ‘shrooms.”

As time passes more mushrooms grow in his mind prison, and they keep growing and growing until they start to grow on the people he loves. He knows something is happening, he's going mad, and he starts to search for an exit, he needs to escape this false reality that the mushroom crown has created for him.

He starts fighting the mushroom crown’s hold on him which causes him to regain some awareness. This is when a part of him realizes he’s been tricked, and he starts refusing everything the Mushroomos give him and becomes cruel to them. However, the lambs have never done him wrong before and the lamb (from the cult) begins to be the only person he can trust. At least until it becomes too much and well… we know Sozo’s fate.

SOZO’S REVIVAL

So Sozo doesn't get resurrected until all the bishops become mortal (at least in my playthrough)(I might change this to he was part of the cult before the bishops I’m not sure). So all the bishop siblings are in the cult and learning the ways of mortal stuff and Sozo appears around the same time, still the crazy Sozo we know and love. However, he’s still very addicted to the menticide mushrooms and both the Lamb and night workers have found Sozo digging through the mushroom crops like a lil racoon.

Based on the game, Sozo likes to run around the cult and do his own thing; he often looks very spaced out but the moment someone talks to him he starts spitting nonsense before yelling at them to go away. The only people Sozo will talk to are people that give Sozo what he wants, which is menticide mushrooms! If you do that for him he will talk your ear off with nonsense, in conversations with him he will often talk about his followers, them being liars and disgusting little creatures. One day though Sozo’s personality seems to change? He starts to tell the lamb,

“Sozo was just here, all alone, thinking about mushrooms... Uh, Sozo means Sozo's little Mushroomo followers!”

”Yes,, they must be so lost without Sozo. They love Sozo! Everyone loves Sozo - especially Lamb!”

“Without their great and beloved Sozo, Mushroomos must be so scared... YOU! You must save them! Save them and bring them to Sozo.”

”They will be trapped in Anura. They are always getting captured when they don't have their great Sozo to protect them. Rescue them and bring them to me.”

But when you bring the followers to Sozo he ends up eating them. At first glance you can assume it's just his addiction, in which it most certainly could be! He sees a big mushroom and he's like oooo~ delicious but there's also a possibility of this being Dr. Sozonius’s anger coming out. The whole fighting against the mushroom crown’s influence and realization that he’s been tricked. Maybe a mix of his addiction and anger for what they did to him? I’m not too sure if Sozo eating the Mushroomos was a problem before he joined the cult.

Of course, this addiction must be stopped so the lamb decides enough is enough and refuses to get more Mushroomos. This causes Sozo to dissent and, with little choice, the Lamb has to put him in rehab. I imagine it would’ve been a struggle getting Sozo to the prison without the Red Crown’s help. With the power of an ant that is Sozo’s size it's a miracle he didnt break that pillory while he was in it. Sozo just stayed silent and didn't fight; the person he had put his trust and hope in has imprisoned him. Sozo is a bit depressed at that moment.

After Sozo has been re-educated, released, and cured of his addiction the mushroom crown finally falls off his head. Which, like I said before, makes me wonder, was it being powered by the menticide mushrooms Sozo has been eating or is it something else?

But Dr. Sozonius talks about some stuff before saying,

Dr. Sozonius Dialogue “I can’t help but feel that I have you to thank for… something. You have my loyalty, I will remain here and serve you. Please, take this!”

Sozonius was ready to live his life rather than reunite with his family in the afterlife. He wasn't expecting to be resurrected after dying in the cult from old age. But Sozonius gave the lamb their loyalty and promised to stay in the cult and serve them. The Lamb had been so kind as to give Sozonius an immortality necklace, the Lamb didn’t want Sozonius to go yet… and Sozo’s heart was too kind and soft. He will have to wait a bit longer to return home to his family, but maybe some good things will come out of staying longer~

Also! Who do we think Sozo was talking to?

A Mushroomo Dialogue "Who is Sozo talking to when he whispers in the dark...?"

Is he talking to himself? The mushrooms? Or the Fox?

#THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO MAKE #THANK YOU SO MUCH MOONBIRD #I hope yall like my idea of what Sozos story might be so sorry if I rambled a lot #hope yall like to read #my headcanons #cult of the lamb headcanons #cult of the lamb sozonius #cult of the lamb #sozo headcanons #cult of the lamb sozo #cotl sozo #cotl sozonius #cotl headcanons #sorry if it didn’t make sense😭#cotl dr sozonius #dr sozonius #the shattered crown AU

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flaneurpastel · 2 years ago

Text

give him a blank paper and a pen, say nothing and let him surprise you

simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

a/n : fluff, i don't think there is anything else to warn y'all about, enjoy :)

words count : 850

after putting it all on his lap, you finally sat down beside him on the sofa, where his arm instinctively came to rest around your shoulders.

simon said nothing, his weary but curious gaze doing the work instead of his words.

"what?"

his voice doesn’t let you indifferent at its low, gravelly tone. you restrain yourself from jumping to his mouth and covering his face with kisses, on his cheeks, his nose, his lips, everywhere. finally, with a neutral face, you turned to face the tv where a rugby match was on.

simon arched his eyebrows. what was that again? he picked up the paper you had put on him, checking to see if there was a clue to the whole enigma you had decided to impose on him tonight.

a piece of white paper and a pencil.

he gave you a confused look before starting to think. he needed to recap it all. he had you by his side on the couch, even though you particularly hate rugby games, they take too long and you never understand the rules despite simon's many attempts to explain them to you. so… you expected something from him before you left. good. had he done something wrong ? the dishwasher had been emptied, though, and he also thought of throwing out the trash before coming to sit on the couch

you dared to glance at simon to see if he had decided to do something. his decomposed and lost face almost made you give up this prank, when you realized that the big ghost was caught off guard by this little joke. you bit your lip, no, you wanted to see how it would go.

finally, it's after 10 minutes that you got up, a pressing need to go to the bathroom. your passage seems to have been long, because when you came back, simon had resumed his usual posture, legs resting on the coffee table, and his right arm resting on the top of the sofa, where your place beside him was waiting for you. and more importantly, what you had handed him half an hour ago was lying on the table, the paper folded in half so that you could not see directly what he had done with it inside.

"I wonder where you get all these ideas from, y/n, I doubt if I'll ever be able to understand you." he said, letting out a small laugh at the end.

"hmm, considering the long wait I expect to see a poem declaring all your love for me in Shakespearean language," you say as you come to snuggle up to him. you take the paper at the same time

"I think I can compete with Picasso more".

a confused smile appeared on your pretty face, and it was simon's turn to restrain himself from covering it with kisses that would leave marks.

picasso?? you thought.

while simon let himself be refocused on his game, you finally opened the paper.

a huge laugh echoed through your living room.

"i hope this one means i'm good at drawing." he says unconsciously caressing your hair, staring at the TV.

your smile was so big you could feel your cheeks hurting.

on the paper were drawn two stick figures holding hands, easily recognizable. one much taller than the other with a simple t-shirt and quickly made pants, and another stick figure in a much more detailed outfit than the other person, you noticed. one has a line as a mouth, while the other has a nice 'C' on the side as a beaming smile.

he had clearly spent all his energy, time, and stick figure drawing skills on you.

little hearts that looked more like circles were flying all around you two.

the very caricatures of you and simon.

you clearly weren't expecting this,

"simon, that's... beautiful"

it was now simon's turn to laugh.

"you dirty liar"

it clearly wasn't one of those realistic paintings you find in the most prestigious museums, and simon may have overdone it a bit on the length of your hair, but it was the first thing simon thought of drawing, the two of you, when you just gave him a piece of paper.

and the thought gave you butterflies in your stomach.

"I was expecting a lot of sweet words telling how happy and lucky you are to have me in your life, though, because it would have been more romantic to show soap," you say anyway to tease him.

briefly turning his attention away from the game, he gives you a look that you know all too well.

"hmm, i can draw something on you this time that you can show to soap," he says in a suave voice.

"oh yeah? i don't know what you're talking about... can you elaborate a little more? you answer, moving closer to him, your lips brushing against his as you speak.

and it is on this note that he took you, a little too easily, on his shoulders, towards the room.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost headcanons #simon riley x gn reader

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justabigassnerd · 11 months ago

Text

Merry Christmas

Pairing - Jack Reacher x child!reader

Word count - 1,075

Warnings - none just Christmas fluff

Summary - it's your first Christmas with Jack and he decides to do just a little something to make the day special

A/N - okay so you know how I said I wasn't going to make a full fic...? so that turned out to be a fucking lie. I mean this isn't a massively long fic or anything I just saw the ask and couldn't stop writing so here we are y'know? everyone needs a bit of Little Reacher for the soul. as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!! (also happy holidays to you all!)

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

25th December might as well have been an ordinary day to Jack Reacher. He hadn't celebrated Christmas in years. It had not been top of his priority list for a very long time.

Except now he had a kid.

Growing up, you had clearly not learnt about the holiday as you had questioned Jack on why bright sparkly lights were hanging outside houses and decorations everywhere. Jack couldn't find it within his heart to deprive you of something like Christmas, even with as little as he engaged with it.

When it came to Christmas Eve, Jack had come to a final decision. He wasn't going to travel tomorrow, he'd instead dedicate the day to spending time with you and celebrating at least a little. And as he made the choice not to travel, he knew he had to get you at least a little something to celebrate the day.

"Okay, y/n, we're going to go out for a little walk so I need you to stick by me the whole time, got that?" Jack asks, tugging on his jacket as he unhooks your coat and holds it open, patiently waiting for you to ease yourself into the coat before you turn to face him, smiling up at him and nodding.

"Okay." You reply, taking Jack's outstretched hand and letting him lead you out of the motel room.

Jack silently hated himself for waiting until Christmas Eve to look for something to buy you, so many people were rushing around like headless chickens trying to buy their last-minute presents without any regard for the people around them. Jack ended up just scooping you up and sitting you on his hip to protect you from any flailing hands or bags. He even made sure to send a few glares in the direction of people who barged his shoulder. Eventually, after glancing in multiple shop windows, Jack's eyes fell onto something that would be the perfect Christmas gift for you.

It was a small stuffed dog, with brown and white patches decorating it. And the toy itself could be no bigger than the size of Jack's palm.

"I just want to have a look in this shop, kid. I promise we'll be quick." Jack says to you, entering the store and then placing you down on the floor once he deems it safe enough. It was quieter in this shop than it was out on the streets. Jack grabbed a basket, grateful it didn't have any way for you to catch a glimpse of the toy when he grabbed it. He slowly made his way towards where the toy was and just before he reached it he turned to face you.

"Hey, y/n, could you grab me that book from over there?" Jack asks, pointing out a book on a stand. a small smile tugs at his lips as you nod, immediately turning to go and grab the book. The second your back was turned Jack grabbed the small plush dog and put it in the basket, concealed from your line of sight. Just in time as you turned around with the book in hand, bringing it over to him.

"This book?" You question, holding the book out towards Jack as he takes it from your hands carefully, flipping it over and acting as if he were reading the blurb.

"I must've mistaken it for a different book. Let's put it back and then pay for something and then we can head back. I know it's getting a bit late." Jack says, guilt tugging at his heart as he sees you attempt to hide a yawn. Jack puts the book back where you got it and leads you to the checkout where he makes sure to distract you while the cashier scans the item and bags it up before he pays for it.

"What's in there?" You ask curiously as Jack takes the bag from the cashier, thanking them as he grabs your hand with his spare one before leading you out of the shop.

"That's for you to find out tomorrow." Jack says as he re-enters the busy street, immediately navigating through the seas of people.

By the time you both made it back to the motel, Jack could tell you were just about ready to crash. He got you out of your coat and shoes and into your pyjamas as quickly as possible before getting you into bed. You barely had time to mumble a goodnight to him before you fell asleep, but Jack didn't mind. Jack instead whispered a goodnight of his own to you before getting into his own bed and slowly falling asleep.

The next morning, Jack woke up to see you still sleeping. When he glanced over at the motel clock he saw it displaying six in the morning. He let out a small sigh as he sat up and stretched, figuring he should be grateful he doesn't have a kid who gets so excited about Christmas that they're up at four in the morning.

By the time Jack had made himself a coffee, you had begun to stir, eyes slowly blinking open as you rubbed at them.

"Morning, y/n." Jack says, his voice a little gruff from sleep.

"Good morning." You say brightly, pushing back your bed covers as Jack crosses to your bed, perching on the end of it after grabbing the bag from where he'd tucked it away under his bed.

"Since it's Christmas. I wanted to buy you a little something." Jack says as he holds the bag out towards you. He felt like he'd let you down by not giving you the big Christmas you deserved with family, gifts and a big dinner, but all those negative thoughts melted away when he saw your face light up at the sight of the small plush dog, immediately pulling it out of the bag and holding it to your chest.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" You say enthusiastically, hugging the toy as close as you can, pressing small kisses to the top of the dog's head.

"You're welcome, y/n. You deserved something." Jack says as you look up at him, placing the small toy by your side before clambering into Jack's lap, both of you smiling as he wraps his arms around you.

"Merry Christmas y/n." Jack mutters as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"Merry Christmas, daddy."

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #justabigassnerd masterlist #little reacher #little reacher universe #jack reacher #jack reacher movie #jack reacher x reader #jack reacher x y/n #jack reacher x you #jack reacher x child!reader #jack reacher x daughter!reader #jack reacher x daughter reader #tom cruise #top cruise jack reacher #jack reacher never go back #tom cruise movie #x child reader #x daughter!reader

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yandere-paramour · 13 days ago

Note

Hi! Oh my goodness I missed asking questions…But now I’m going to! And one question that has been on my mind is what the yanderes do for Halloween since it is spooky month and also my birthday was 2 weeks ago on the 1st! Anyways that’s all

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY CAMMIE!! I missed you :)

Atalanta unfortunately has a gala to go to. The annual city Halloween gala that she is required to go to every single year. She hates it and wishes she could get out of it, but it generates a lot of revenue for the city and it's her duty. And because you will be a Montclair, it's your duty too. Atalanta always gets the city's fashion college to make her costume (and part of the money is donated to the college), and they will make your costume too. You can pick whatever you like as long as your costumes match like a knight and her princess, pirates, Gomez and Morticia. The costumes are GORGEOUS, and they make you both look amazing. You spend the night eating expensive treats and fending off socialites who are trying to suck up to you. It's not super fun but Ata promises she will make it up to you.

Vivien goes out on the town for Halloween. By this, I mean he mans the flower shop. Every Halloween Night on Main Street where the shop is, the suburb part of the city does a little party/festival for kids and families. Every shop/store has candy and a little activity set up (Vivien does flower crowns), and the street is blocked off so everything is safe for the kids. There is food and music and everyone is dressed up. It's a super cute family-friendly event, and Vivien would LOVE if you came to help him out with it. You both can dress up as flower fairies (to match the shop), and you can assist him with showing toddlers how to use their tiny hands to weave flowers together. His shift isn't even the whole time so you both can leave halfway through to enjoy the rest of the night listening to music and dancing, eating amazing street food, and generally having a great night. In my opinion, this is the best Halloween night ever.

Y'all know Noelle hates letting you go outside, so she's going to have to put on an activity so fun and interesting that your sweet little mind will be so entertained and happy that you won't even think of going out. Of course, she's getting you a costume. She might even encourage you to sew/make your own costume to keep you busy the whole month of October. She will order lots of treats for you both to snack on and get some candy for the few trick-or-treaters who might come by your door. You and Noelle will spend the evening doing a cute little activity like carving pumpkins or playing a silly game or painting monster rocks while you watch scary movies. It's a very nice and cuddly night, and Noelle lets you have as many treats as you want.

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i4bellingham · 2 years ago

Text

MORE THAN JUST AN INTERLUDE: pedri x reader

SYNOPSIS: in which a relationship thought to be a fleeting moment lasted for more than they'll ever know.

CONTENT: incorporated with a slight social media au! + obsessive hateful fan speaking shit. conversations are in (google translated) spanish and english + gavi being an adorable child + innuendos by pedri :’p / also NOT PROOFREAD please don’t sue me. read part two here

pedri

❤️ 💭 ↗️ 　　　　　 • •

Liked by gavi, alejandrobalde and 1,768,923 others

pedri el más feliz contigo. feliz aniversario mi amor. the happiest with you. happy anniversary my love.

tagged: yourusername

View all 13,901 comments

user1 wait what- one year ???? 😧

user2 y'all been together for one year i-

user3 remembering the days where your fans thought this was just a fling 😭 you guys are celebrating one year with each other now congrats 😭❤️

gavi happy anniversary!

fcbarcelona sending love to you and yourusername ❤️

user4 another month now and you'll break up anyways 😐

user5 shut yo stanky ass

user4 let's bffr here besties they're not gonna last ☺️

user6 user4 and this is why your father left you, your mom hates you, you failed school and you're single meanwhile yourusername is here living the absolute best of life 🤷🏻‍♀️

yourusername

❤️ 💭 ↗️ 　　　　　 • •

Liked by jamalmusiala10, neymar, pedri and 195,986 others

yourusername here's to many more small midnight talks about life with you. happy anniversary bebe ❤️

tagged: pedri

View all 4,679 comments

_rl9 never let the haters ruin such a beautiful relationship!

pedri never

gavi the second picture is when you text him and his focus is not with us anymore :/

yourusername i always tell him to stop texting me when he's out with you guys though ☹️

gavi i know, pedri just doesn't listen because he's annoying like that

yourusername say sorry pedri :/

yourfriend1 happiest anniversary to you both! ❤️❤️

pedri i love you

yourusername i love you more

pedri i love you the most

yourusername i love you more than most

pedri i love you so much that no words could ever describe to which extent

alejandrobalde pedri we get it man 😃 (anyways happy anniversary yourusername)

gavi pedri simp (i don't know if i used that word correct)

Pedri was still high on adrenaline when he was whisked away for an interview just after their game.

His football jersey clung onto his skin in an uncomfortable but familiar hug with grimes and sweat all over his body. If people looked closely, they'd find small specks of dirt on his cheeks from the amount of time he tried intercepting a ball pass from the opposing team. He still looked good nonetheless, not that he needed someone to remind him that as he stood carefree in front of the multiple camera shooting his every angle as he waits for the first question to pop up.

“So... what a game huh?” The reporter chucklesㅡ for what reason, Pedri doesn't know but he simply chuckles alongside him. “How do you think of your performance today Pedri? And how do you think that contributed to the win tonight?”

Pedri scratches his nose bridge, then placing both hands over his waist as he takes a lean back to keep the mic near from his lips.

“I think this is one of the best games that I’ve played entering this season. I think that defensively I’ve gotten a lot of progress and it showed in this game tonightㅡ but I believe there is still room for improvement. I think that I had made a few bad calls during the game as well so I’ll definitely look into that as to not make the same mistakes again but overall, I’m pretty satisfied and happy with how my performance played out tonight and contributed to our team’s win.”

The reporter nods his head behind the camera, seemingly impressed at the response he got from one of Barcelona’s golden boys.

“Any celebrations happening tonight for this big win? For another 3 points on the board?”

Pedri smiles but he shakes his head. “No, the guys will get into that but I will be celebrating something else tonight, this is a special day for me and for my girlfriend after all so I just want to spend this night with her.”

“Speaking of girlfriend...” The reporter trails off, flicking through his card with a teasing glint and smile on his face as he follows through with his statement. “It’s your guys’ anniversary today yes? Made quite a lasting impression on Twitter, this one.”

Pedri nods his head, eyes steering away from the media crew momentarily when his eyes catches a familiar figure walking towards them alongside Gavi.

“Yes, it's our anniversary today so not only do I get to celebrate the win tonight but I also get to celebrate an entire year of love and happiness with my girlfriend.”

Pedri shoots you a smile when you catch his eyes, mouthing ‘wait for me’ as he tends to his media tasks by finishing off the interview with a few more remarks for the game, team improvements and whatnot before he walks over to you and Gavi in brisk steps when he's finally done.

He's a few mere foot away when you immediately open your arms for a hug, not minding that he's still dirtied up from his previous game, all with the sweat and gunk clinging onto him. Pedri immediately falls down into your embrace, and Gavi takes that chance to slip away when he sees the cameras pointing to you both while still airing live.

You plant a kiss each to his cheeks and nose, leaving more than a swift peck to his lips that he returns gratefully and with glee.

“I’m so proud of you, do you know that?” You tell him as he leans his forehead against yours. “You did so well today baby, I’m very very proud of you.”

Pedri wraps both of his arms around your waist, locking you snug against him as you snake your hands around his shoulders.

“You always tell me that, no?” He leans down to whisper in your ear. “But you can always show how proud you are of me yeah?”

You don’t say anything but you do slap his chest when Gavi comes in barreling through your hug, jumping behind your boyfriend while he's got both hands over Pedri’s shoulders.

“Happy Anniversary to the two of you!”

Pedri shakes the younger one off before moving to walk away, pulling you behind him. “Too loud Gavi.”

“But we won! And it's in your anniversary and you guys should all be loud!”

Pedri smiles tight-lipped, another whisper going through your ears before he's leaning back up as if he never just said something to rouse you up.

“Oh you'll definitely be loud tonight, that's for sure.”

Not only did the media capture you lip-locking live with your boyfriend after his post-game interview, the interaction with Gavi and Pedri’s whispered suggestive comments that left you stunned and bothered definitely made it to the trending topics on Twitter for the next days to come.

#☆ i4bellingham writes #☆ pedri #pedri x reader #pedri x you #pedri fanfic #pedri fanfiction #pedri imagine #pedri imagines #pedri one shot #pedri one shots #pedri

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starfilledsky2810 · 1 year ago

Text

Y'all are gonna be SICK of how much I say that Rui is so full of love bc it just means. so much to me. You're not going to hear the end of it.

(Blame the Rui and Kanade "full of love for the world that treated them poorly" comparison post) (very late addition: the post by an-inspired-eternity)

All Rui has wanted to do for his entire life is make people smile and be in awe of his shows. He's so full of creativity and ingenuity and skill and ACKK I'M SO ILL, anyways-

People shunned him for accidents and mishaps and what have you, people isolated him, people spoke nothing but harshness of him.

He was at his worst. And yet, he never blamed any of them. In his one-man show in the main story (when Tsukasa, Emu, Nene are about to set to SEKAI at the end), he explicitly says that none of them there are to blame - "they just thought differently to the alchemist."

He's beaten down at this point, almost immediately back to square 1 after the first show with wxs failed. And yet, he forgave Tsukasa after he saw his determination. He chose to love wxs, and that is what brought him happiness.

He's still got a long way to go though (as he thinks all of his classmates still hate him). And yet, he still shares his ideas with his classmates (when pushed to, but still), he still chooses to open himself up, just a bit, to the people he thought hated him.

And look where that got him - his bravery yielded him something that surprised him.

People appreciated his ideas! People appreciated him! People didn't hate him!

(I haven't read Heat Up! Kamiyama Cheer Squad yet, so I don't fully know, but...)

And in the end, look where he ended up - he ended up happy.

People appreciated his ideas, people appreciated him, people didn't hate him,

the "people" that he was once afraid of showing himself to, are now his friends.

He chose to love the world even when he was at his lowest, he chose to try his best to find where that world was going to give back to him, because he knew deep down that the world was going to give back to him.

And in the end, he got that love back.

I think that there are many characters like this, not just Rui, and that's amazing. Because, I think that they teach an important lesson, one that I find very personal to me, too:

One day, the world shall love you back; your people are out there, somewhere, and even thought you shouldn't necessarily have to, you have to find them yourself, or you have to let them find you.

#rui kamishiro #kamishiro rui #project sekai analysis #character analysis #pjsk rui #do I tag general pjsk?#project sekai #-#I did NOT mean to rant this long #uhhhh #LOL L GET TEXT WALLED

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soaps-mohawk · 9 months ago

Note

The amount of power you hold by making this series is INSANE LIKE I HAVE SO MANY QUESTION AND THEORIES

Like the institute, was it a bad experience? A good one? A mix? Does Omega! Reader have any specific memories that don't seem to leave? Maybe the omega's who had behavioral issues were punished but no one spoke of the punishments? I HAVE SO MANH THOUGHTS

That's what I love about reading fic series is that the readers talk to the writers and I feel like yall just sit and laugh like 'these guys have no idea how much pain I'm about to cause them' LMFAO like your the person behind the slaughter

No but really y'all have no idea what's coming. Even here very soon...y'all have no idea lmaooo

(please don't hate me I promise it has a happy ending 😬)

Institutes are not good places. I'll just clear that up right now, even though that's going to be kind of brought up here in a couple chapters. They are not good places and they never really have been. They were started in the late 19th century as a place to send omegas that had behavioral issues, health issues, all sorts of issues or perhaps were unwanted by families that couldn't support them or didn't want to have to deal with the work that goes into omegas. So think like mental institutions. They were run by "doctors and professionals" that "understood omegas" and could cure/fix/care for them.

Of course as the years went on people started to realize maybe not everything that goes on in them is so good and after some investigations and such there was a huge reform on institutes and they became more like they are in the present day in the fic. Actual institutes that "care for omegas and prepare them for pack life." Originally omegas didn't leave institutes after they were handed over, but then people realized there was money in institutes so naturally, they started dumping money into them to train omegas and then pretty much sell them off. Not directly like selling humans, but most institutes require application payments and then there's fees for all sorts of things like testing, files, anything they can legally charge for, they will.

Obviously we're beginning to realize a bit at this point that not everything the reader learned at the institute is...right. What omegas are taught and how they're taught varies institute to institute, usually based on the types of alphas that are seeking omegas from the institute. So institutes that have higher standing, more funding, tend to teach more subservience and obedience because that's where you have the rich alphas and the politicians and government looking at omegas. Lower level institutes might teach more how to serve and keep a pack since they might have the upper middle class, future family pack omegas. The lowest level institutes might also teach subservience and obedience less in an "I have an appearance to uphold" type of way and more of a "these are not good alphas picking up these omeags and we know that" type of way.

So, the reader didn't have a good experience because there is no real good experience at an institute. They're very strict, controlling, almost abusive in some instances (kneeling for two hours anyone?) Not every omega gets sent to an institute either. Some omegas live with their families until they're old enough to start seeking an alpha themselves. I think I did touch on that briefly in a chapter somewhere.

There's so much I could talk about on institutes omg. This is probably way more than you expected 😅 I just love this stuff so much.

#i'm having so much fun world building in this fic if you couldn't tell #answered #crcb lore

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ronearoundblindly · 5 months ago

Note

1, 11 and 23 for the bedrock and bluebrint babes please

I’m trying to figure out what I want to ask for Steve and the mermaid

Questions from this ask game and for the Bedrock & Blueprints series with Ari Levinson and best friend!reader.

*These drabble-answers are fine for all ages of reader. However, not all the linked stories within are. Your media consumption is your own responsibility!

1. Describe their first date.

Oh boy, oh boy, who would think this would be so difficult to answer???

You had a fake date on Valentine's Day years ago, you've gone out just the two of you many times, and you 'get together' ::cough:: for the first time when Ari confesses his feelings...

That wasn't "a date" though.

Immediately after that is a bunch of trips back and forth from your apartment to your house, using his truck to move your furniture and boxes. He's hurriedly fixing up bits of your new property. He's spending the night when he works there late (almost every night after he finishes work-work). You two go to a pool party at one of your new neighbor's houses and continue to see José and Dimitri at the bar maybe once a week or so, but you and Ari are still secretive--or at least guarded--about such a huge shift in your relationship.

Honestly, I don't know which thing you two would pinpoint as the first date. I think the fact there's no exact end to your friendship or beginning to your romance is kinda perfect actually.

11. How do they feel about nicknames/pet names? If they like them, what pet names do they use? If they hate them, why do they feel that way?

'Old Man' and 'Kid,' obviously, and those names started as playfully derogatory but evolved into loving jokes. Both of you use them now to (gently) point out behavior you each know the other would like to outgrow: Ari doesn't want to be a stick in the mud or close-minded, and you don't want to be naïve.

There are...occasions where you and Ari are half-speaking to your daughter Rachel and referring to each other as 'mommy' and 'daddy.' Look, it bleeds into the bedroom sometimes, and I won't go so far as to say it's a kink, but y'all don't hate it. They're cheeky names in those situations, still loving jokes.

23. What are the defining characteristics of their relationship?

longterm support, consistency, respect

You know that feeling where you have a concept in mind, you know there's a word for it, but you can't find a way to search for it? That's what finding your person has been like. You had an idea of the pieces, you tried to search with a checklist, but the right person never manifested. You made adjustments to how exactly what you wanted could exist together in one love--perhaps he didn't have to be so perfect, perhaps he could have flaws, too--but after a while, you had to spend energy of thinking of other things.

In the background, things click in your brain. In the background of your daily life, Ari manifested.

He wasn't that person you were looking for to start. He had a concept for his own life that wasn't fully formed. He kinda lived like a nomad, and that made him very comfortable in the military, but later, that definition didn't quite fit him anymore.

You two grew differently, not apart.

I'm going to stress here that consistency does not exclude evolving. You are not good for each other right now and then change into something else. That happens to people, yes, but not when you consistently see and listen to your partner. You know things about Ari which make life difficult for him. He knows things about you that turn you off to change. He can be flippant and you can be judgmental. You both are not without your shortcomings.

You two consistently want to see each other happy, you consistently want to be the cause of each other's happiness, and you consistently forgive each other and yourselves for mistakes along the way.

This goes hand in hand with respect. You are different people, with different backgrounds, who want different things sometimes, but you never diminish the other as being silly or wrong for those differences.

Except folding the laundry.

Ari does it wrong. That's not disrespect, thems just the facts.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#ro answers #ask game #bedrock and blueprints series #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x you

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yagirlwrites · 11 months ago

Text

(Not) My Baby (4)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N makes a decision with the help of her friends but Rafe isn't going to like it.

A/N: Not me posting this at 1am on a Thursday lmao! Y'all it's finally here! Part 4! I have been in such a massive slump and had huge writers block for many months. Honestly don't know how I wrote this tbh🤣 That being said I'm not super happy about my writing here but I'm posting it because y'all deserve to get it immediately, you've waited long enough! Hope you enjoy this part! Love you all❤️

Series Masterlist

My work is my own; it's not to be copied, transferred or translated. Reblogs, comments, feedback are always welcome and appreciated❤️

Happy reading! 🥰

(Not) My Baby (Part 4)

"So what are you gonna do?" Y/N sighed at her friend's question. She knew it was wishful thinking that they might finish breakfast before Stella brought up the issue. To be fair to her, she hadn't mentioned it all night and Y/N managed to actually get some sleep because of it.

But now it was time to face the music and deal with her problem. Fuck.

"What are we talking about?" Lena's voice came from the doorway, the girl looking like she had been through the wringer. The girls at the table almost giggled at her messy appearance, given her usual insistance on being put together at all times.

"Well, hello to you too. Couldn't be bothered sending a text that you'd be home late? Again?" Lena blushed at Stella's words, knowing she was right and she had messed up. Yet again.

Since her and Kelce started dating she had become more and more forgetful of their rule - always let each other know where you're staying the night. They had a few rules in their roomate agreement, this one being the most important one. Hell, she invented the rule herself. And yet, here she was, constantly breaking it.

She knew Stella wasn't really mad, but it still made her feel embarrased. How she let a guy distract her like that so often, she didn't understand.

"Yeah... Sorry." She let out a sheepish smile and Stella rolled her eyes, motioning her to join them at the table.

"While you were getting busy with your man, we have been in a crisis!" Lena's eyes widened, slightly concerned, slightly suspicious.

"Expand." Y/N's head met the table and let out a muffled groan. Lena looked at the girl in confusion.

"What happened??" Stella folded her hands, getting ready for a dramatic retelling. Y/N remained face planted on the table while Stella caught Lena up to the latest drama.

Many 'he did whats' and 'oh my god's' later, interrupted by both Stella's and Lena's laughter at the sandwich incident, Lena was finally in the know about the Rafe situation. And boy was she loving it.

"I fucking knew he was into you! I knew it-"

"Can you please not?" Y/N had gotten up from the table and planted herself on the couch mid-story, not wanting to deal with any of it so early in the morning. Or ever. Preferably she would deal with it never. She just wanted to go back to bed and sleep for several weeks. She was exhausted.

Lena and Stella gave eachother knowing looks but said nothing further about it. Instead they plopped down on the couch either side of her and Y/N knew the ordeal was far from over. They wouldn't let her keep ignoring it. Sometimes she hated having friends who knew her too well.

"So what are you gonna do?" This time it was Lena posing the dreaded question.

"I don't know." It was an honest answer. The only one she had. But she knew her friend would not be satisfied with it.

"Well what do you think?" Y/N closed her eyes, trying to mentally prepare for everything that was about to unfold.

"I don't know...." She sounded tired. And Stella felt a pang of hurt on her friend's behalf.

Lena, however was not going to accept that as an aswer. She was a doer, she always thought three moves ahead and prepared for everything. 'I don't know' was not in her vocabulary. Usually that was someting Y/N loved about her, but at this moment she resented it.

"Well lets figure it out." Lena started. "It is a good opportunity."

"I know that." Y/N begrudgingly admited.

"So what's holding you back?" Y/N looked at Lena as if she was stupid for posing the question. Lena was not bothered.

"Don't say it's cause you don't like him because I know that's not really the reason. You're pragmatic, you know this is a good chance to network. So I'll ask again. What's holding you back?"

While Lena was right about her being pragmatic, she just didn't understand how big of a factor her dislike for Rafe was in her dillema. Whereas Lena couldn't fathom why she'd let something silly like that get in the way of a good opportunity to make connections, she felt sick to her stomach at the thought. The mere idea of being on his arm while he flaunted her was making her flushed with anger. She knew she couldn't explain it to her friends though, so she didn't even try.

"I don't know. I just hate the idea of giving him what he wants and seeing his smug face-"

"You're getting something out of it too." Lena, annoyingly pointed out.

"Not as much as him." At Y/N's words, Lena finally grinned.

"There it is." Lena's words made Y/N look at her in confusion.

"What?"

"What's holding you back. You think its an unfair deal. He's getting more out of it than you are." Lena explained.

Y/N's brow furrowed in thought. Stella was quiet the entire time, knowing not to interrupt the two girls when they're debating something. She learned long ago it was a bad idea. It was best to let them figure it out and not get involved.

Y/N realized Lena was right. She was feeling resentment because she felt like she would be giving him a lot more than she'd be getting in return and it made her real mad.

"Yeah... I guess so." Lena nodded.

"Good."

"Good?" Y/N asked, exasperated.

"Yes, good. Now we know the problem. Now we can solve it." Lena said as if it was the simples thing in the world.

"Oh it's that simple?" Y/N's sarcasm was felt but ignored as Lena continued.

"So what do you want?" Y/N looked at her confused, again.

"What do I want?" She repeated.

"So what do you want that he can give you?" Lena asked again. Y/N frowned.

"Yes. He's getting the better end of the deal. So even the odds." She was explaining it as if it was obvious. Y/N didn't think so.

"I don't want anything from him."

"Don't be stubborn." Lena interrupted. "There's always something you can get from someone. It's just a matter of figuring out what you want."

"I don't want anything from him!" Y/N repeated, a bite in her voice.

"Now you're just being childish."

"Let's not get nasty." Stella finally piped up, seeing that this was not going in the right direction.

"How am I being childish?" Y/N bit out.

"You're letting your feelings cloud your judgement. Stop letting your dislike of him lead the converstation." Lena spoke evenly, making sure not to push Y/N further than she had. They could both be stubborn and they knew it. Lena didn't want to fight. She was just trying to help her friend. The problem was she wasn't always the best at showing it.

"Okay, lets take a step back." Stella interjected. Hands up in what she hoped was a calming gesture.

"I think what Lena is trying to say is that you might be holding yourself back from something that could benefit you because you're letting your feelings for Rafe get in the way of seeing the bigger picture."

"I don't have feelings for Rafe." She quipped back.

"You know what I meant, Peach." Stella's use of her nickname softened Y/N's features some. She was realizing Rafe was now causing her to fight with her friends. The thought infuriated her. No way.

Y/N sighed and closed her eyes, trying to clear her head. They were right. When it came to Rafe, he always managed to unhinge her and anger would lead her actions. But she was smarter than that. She wouldn't let him get in the way of her friendships. And she wasn't going to let him being a dick be the reason why she misses on a good opportunity. One that could do her a lot of good in the future.

That's when it hit her.

When she opened her eyes her friends were looking at her with bathed breaths, anxious for her next move.

"There is something." Lena smiled.

"But he'll never go for it." Y/N was doubting herself. It was crazy.

"Babe, he's in a position where he can't refuse you. He's got a lot to gain from this but he also has a hell of a lot more to lose if you say no." Lena reasoned.

"She's right. I'm pretty sure you could get a kindey out of him if you wanted to." Stella joked and the girls laughed.

"That's a bit much, Pumpkin." Stella beamed at her friends words.

"All we're saying is, he won't be able to refuse you. He's desperate. He needs you." Lena explained.

"Okay." The girls grinned, Stella jumping up in excitement.

"So what is it?!" Y/N smirked. Oh it was a good one and he was going to hate it so much. The thought made her giddy.

--------

It had been days since the sandwich shop. Since he poured all his shame out to her and asked her to help him. Since he embarrased himself thoroughly and put his fate in her hands.

It has been days of radio silence. He was getting antsier every second, feeling like he might crawl out of his skin in suspence. Truth was, he had no idea what was going to happen. She really didn't like him and she could refuse to help him so easily, leaving him the deep deep hole he dug for himself. She didn't owe him anything. He wasn't great to her in the past and he regreted it. Had regreted it for a long time. He tried making things up with her for months but she was so unreceptive to his efforts, and then she pushed his buttons and he'd lose himself all over again.

And now he was at her mercy. She could embarrass him by telling the whole world about what he had done. Or she could just ignore him, letting him stew in his misery. Leaving him stranded and giving his father the perfect opportuinity to cut him off for good. Disown him even. He was losing his mind.

It has been days and everyone around him could feel his sour mood. He was twitchy, easily irritable, incapable of focusing on anything and constantly fiddling with his phone. Constantly writing and deleting texts, to what they assumed was the same mystery person.

None of his friends knew what the hell was going on with him but none dared ask, knowing it would most likely end with him shutting them out further. He was moodier than usual, which they didn't think possible.

Kelce and Topper knew the only person who could ever affect him like that was his father. Or Y/N. Both in very different ways, of course, but in simmilar intensity.

His friends never knew what it was that him and Y/N had going on, never understood the odd relationship. They knew they'd get punched if they brought it up though, they learned it the hard way.

His father was a whole other story. They both knew, for the most part, how Ward Cameron treated his son. Having grown up with Rafe, they'd seen enough of their fraught dynamic to understand there were serious issues there. Their friend never confided in them fully though, preferring not to talk about his father at all. But every once in a while he'd get that glazed over look in his eyes, the dark cloud around him palpable. They knew then that something had happened involving his father.

This time was different though. He wasn't depressed, he wasn't angry from an argument with his dad. He also wasn't buzzing with nerves and excitement from a row with Y/N. It was unusal and unnerving and the entire appartment was enveloped in the odd energy.

So when Kelce had insisted he needed a night out Topper agreed. Kelce had demanded he needed to unwind and that after football practice he expected his two best friends to take him out for drinks and help him get his head straight. They agreed, Topper knowing Klece's plans had nothing to do with his own well being - and Rafe because Kelce rarely ever expressed that he was having issues, usually the most chill out of the group. It made him feel too guilty to reject him. Even though he'd rather do anything but go out tonight.

But there he was, waiting for Kelce to finish up his practice so they can go to the bar where he fully intended to excuse himself after an hour. The sun was just beginning to set as he fiddled with his phone in his hands, willing it to do something, snap him out of his misery. The orange and pinkish hues enveloped the sky as he heard someone approach him in the parking lot. He was leaning on his car as he looked behind him and nearly dropped his phone in shock.

There she was. She was standing right in front of him, the last rays of sun casting a halo around her. She took his breath away.

For a moment he stood there gaping at her, not quite able to process that she was actually here after days of no contact, after days of him wishing she'd call or text or even email him, give him anyhing to go by.

She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. He snapped out of his daze and took an unconscious step forward. She eyed him warily. He looked rough. As if he hadn't slept.

A sliver of guilt crossed through her but she quickly crushed that down. This whole situation is his fault and she had every right to take even more time, than just a few days, to get back to him. She reminded herself to keep her head in the game, to not get distracted.

"Hey." She spoke first.

"Hey." He sounded breathy, unsure.

"Can we talk?" He nodded, nervous to what she was there to say. He wasn't sure how she found him but guessed she probably talked to Lena. Lena would know he was waiting for Kelce.

"I've thought about your proposition." He gulped, bracing himself for the worst.

"Yeah?" He wished she would just rip off the band-aid and reject him instead of dragging it out.

"I've realized you'd be getting a lot more out of it than me -"

"What do you want?" He interrupted her, cringing inwardly at the sharp glare he was met with. But he couldn't wait another second.

"For future notice, I want you to not interrupt me again." He almost rolled his eyes, almost.

"Noted. What do you want?" He sounded nervous and she almost smiled. Almost.

She looked to he right, taking her time to apreciate his vehicle, letting him stew for a few more agonizing moments while he waited for her answer.

He looked at her, impatient, ready to jump out of his skin, shake her, fall to his knees, beg her to just say it.

Her eyes met his again and she smiled. It was a beautiful sight, but he quickly realized the smile was one of mischief. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. She glanced back at his car. Then back to him. Then back to the car. Then back to him. She gave him a pointed look, raising her eyebrows.

He looked on in confusion and she rolled her eyes at his ignorance.

"The car." She finally spoke. His heart was hammering in his chest from the suspense.

"Huh?"

She looked back at the car and he followed her eyes finally realizing what it was she was saying.

"No way." He spoke before he could even process his words. She nodded her head.

"Okay." She shrugged, swiflty turned around and started walking away. No look back, no explanation, no chance to barter. Panic rose in his chest.

"Wait!" She stopped in her tracks but didn't bother turning around. His mind was running a thousand miles an hour. This couldn't be what she was asking of him? Surely she wasn't that crazy? Surely she didn't expect him to give her his car.

His car. A black, 1967 Ford Mustang, complete with white stripes. A picture of sleek elegance and power, with the classic leather interior and and an upgraded motor, the rev of which caused goosebumps to rise on his skin every time he turned on the key. His pride and joy. The first thing he ever bought for himself. His father protested, of course he did. He would have preferred a more modern vehicle, something that showed status. Not an old muscle car. But Rafe was adamant and as soon as he turned eighteen and got access to his trust fund, he found Clarence and never looked back.

She was his most trusted companion, which is why it was hitting hard that Y/N wanted to take her from him. Couldn't she have picked anything else?

"You seriously want me to just give you my car?" His voice was incredulous. She turned around and calmly walked back to him, as if she had all the time in the world.

"Of course not. I'm not that cruel. Or crazy." She smirked while he looked at her in confusion. What was she getting at?

"I don't expect you to give it to me. Not forever anyway." He blinked at her, still confused.

"I want free use of your car for... In the name of fairness, let's say I'd get to keep it for as long as this charade lasts." His heart was slowing down some, glad she wasn't insisting on actually taking his car from him.

"So... when was it you told your family we were dating, again?" He gulped, redness on his neck and cheeks visible.

"Three months ago" he almost whispered. Her eye twitched but she forced herself to stay calm. The prick.

"And how long did you tell them we've been together?" He gupled again. This was more and more emabrrassing with every minute.

"Three months." She swallowed down her anger that was rising again at his bullshit.

"So let's say six months backlog... and however long this continues. That's how long I get to keep the car. That sound fair to you?"

He wanted to say no. To argue. To call her crazy and beg her to pick something, anything else. But by the look in her eyes he knew it would be pointless and only serve to further his embarrassement. She was determined. This is what she wants. And he has no choice but to give it to her. He has no fucking choice and she knows it.

"Fine. But-" she interrupts him before he can finish his sentence.

"Gas included." He nearly choked on his saliva at her words. She was pushing him to his limits. She wanted him to pay for her gas too, while she drove his car around flaunting it in his face. The redness on his face was now also from anger. She was enjoying this.

"Fine. Fine!" She smiled.

"But that's it!" He continued. "I agree to this and we have a deal? You'll do it? No second guessing, no going back on it. You'll do it?"

He was looking at her with such desparation it tugged at her heart. This really was important to him.

"Yeah. Yeah I'll do it." She nodded along with her words.

He felt like crying. It was as if a ton of weight was lifted off his shoulders. He was still upset about Clarence. Obviously he was. But mostly he was relieved and happy that he wouldn't have to be embarrassed in front of his family. That she was going to do it. She was going to help him. He wanted to hug her in thanks or yell at her for manipulating him. He wanted to pass out from all the stress - of the situation, of the past few days, of suspence.

"So when's this wedding?" She dreaded asking because if there's anything this situation had taught her is that Rafe always can and will piss her off more than she thought possible. Every single time.

He was nervous again. He sighed and Y/N knew she wasn't going to like the words that came out of his mouth.

"Two weeks." He finally said.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

----

Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @r0und3bitch @lovelornanonymity @mentallynot-here @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @goldenjo @emeloyy @kanib45 @clinelyn @magnificantmermaid @hey-sunrisee @mannstarkey @harringtonstudios @totallynotkaibiased @popcrone818 @bookaholics-stuff @zzzina7 @fangirlwithlou @namelesssav @rafesxgold @cmac-writes @malfoytargaryen @alinaharlow @mveggieburger @theyluvmesblog @withbeautyandrage @sierrahhh @harrys-humble-housewife @piceous21 @vifuckingp @ditzyballerina @xoxo3m1ly @jessmaybank @whore-4-drewstarkey @palmwinemami @mew227 @dustbunniess @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @starkowswife

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ryomku · 5 months ago

Text

thank you satoru - gojo satoru

synopsis: Thanks for looking at the cherry blossoms with me Satoru.

character: Gojo Satoru

tags: gojo satoru x reader, gn! reader, one sided crush, angst, no happy ending, use of y/n, no curses au!

a/n: apologies in advance for any mistakes, english is not my first language, curse you gege this is all your fault, not proofread it's like 1 am y'all I'm just sad and stressed lmao

a/n 2: took some inspo from the song: 8 Letters by Why Don't We.

You are the one who knows me best and the one who hurts me most, yet here we are seeing each other.

“Why do I pull you close but then ask you for space?”

“Am I just hurting myself?”

“Why is it so difficult to tell you that I love you?”

Isn't it amazing?

Like every day we meet without missing a beat, days where we love and hate each other.

“Are we going to change it?”

We don't know yet.

“Can I touch your heart?”

“How can I get closer to you?”

Surely I won't be able to, knowing how you are like with a heart that's as hard as stone and cold as ice. Yet, you made mine fragile like glass I am at my limit and anything can easily break it.

“Will the day that I deserve you come by?”

Let me be your love.

It's always you, you're always the one who hurts me, you make an impact in my life.

“Why can't I make an impact in your life?”

I know that if I curse at you it won't hurt, I know that if I yell at you it won't matter and I know that if I leave you won't miss me.

I know you don't love me and I still want to keep trying to win you over even if it's in vain.

“Could you do me a favor, Satoru?” Although I wanted to look into your eyes at that moment, mine only focused on the cherry blossoms and the soft pink petals that fall softly and delicately touch the ground.

I know he doesn't care about me but I still want him to do one last thing for me, I know I've bothered him too much but this is the last thing I ask of you my friend.

“What do you want me to do idiot?”

“Could you take me outside to see the cherry blossoms?”

I know I'm asking a lot of you, but please just do this for me. I fell for you many years ago and I want to be in your arms this time once and for all.

“Sure, I'll take you right now if that's okay.”

“Perfect.”

Every look, every touch makes me want to give you all of me, but I can't and I never will be able to, I know, I know that I don't deserve you and that I'm not enough for you, but at least my dream will come true.

You took me by the hand to the backyard of my house, helped me go down the stairs and stopped every time I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I'm sorry to give you so much work for this last favor.

We walked to the other side of the garden and sat under the cherry tree, as always sitting next to each other. I didn't like it but since this is the last favor I ask of you, I might as well change things. With some effort I got up from my place and let myself fall gently between your legs sensing that you were startled by how sudden everything was, I took your arms and put them around my shoulders so that you could give me a hug.

“Sometimes I wonder, what would happen if I found a soul like mine?”

“What do you mean dumbass?” Those ways you call me don't hurt me anymore Gojo, nothing hurts me anymore.

“I would like to find someone who loves me like I love that person, I want someone who loves me for who I am and not for what I do or what I can give them, I want someone who understands me and is there for me when needed, I would have loved to meet someone like that.”

“You and your love things.”

I know you don't understand them because you don't feel it the way I feel it for you Satoru, I know you don't feel it and you won't.

The sky was painted in dark colors and the clouds looked even more beautiful than before. I adore sunsets and even more so if it's with someone I love, even if that someone doesn't love me like I love them.

I wanted to tell you what I felt at that moment but I know that if I do you will live with that guilt that you did nothing to love me more and I don't like when you feel guilty, I wanted us to have a future in which we continued playing and being side by side like we've done since we were children but Satoru I can't do it anymore.

If I could be half of what you think of me, I could learn to do anything and maybe then you could love me for who I am.

I always thought I was bad but look at you, you are the best, how much I adore you and how much I love you.

Thank you for all these years my faithful friend, my confidant and my love, I will never be able to thank you for everything you have done for me, but at least I enjoyed all these years by your side my beloved, but it is time to go, maybe it hurts you that I'm leaving or maybe not, but I want to think that I am special to you and that at least in some way you love me, even if it's just as a friend.

Thank you for letting yourself be loved without knowing it.

“Thank you for seeing the cherry blossoms with me Satoru, thank you.”

“No problem, I don't mind doing this with you Y/N.”

You very rarely called me by my name, thank you for doing it in the end Satoru

“Satoru, I adore you.”

For the last time I felt my face get wet from the hot tears that I shed for the last time and for the last time I was able to see the cherry blossoms.

Closing my eyes along with the last beats of this sick heart.

Thank you Gojo Satoru, I love you.

The white haired boy felt his friend's body go limp in his arms, tightening the hug on the other body to feel its warmth.

“Did you fall asleep Y/N?”

His friend was finally in eternal slumber, it's a shame that the blue eyed boy didn't notice and slept next to his already dead friend.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #gojo x you

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chemicallywrit · 1 year ago

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Happy Audio Drama Sunday! What a week! Let's talk about audio drama!

⏰ Nine To Midnight has its own feed now, which I appreciate, as a listener to many of the involved pods, because I didn't get like six iterations of the show in my feed. I did have to go seek it out though, but I'm so glad I did. These stories!!! These STORIES. The second episode in particular stuck out, just banger after banger. Also, what's up David Ault! Always fun to watch David Ault flex.

😈 Dungeons and Daddies this week was on the short side, but woof. I. Love. The Stamplers. I love them. I love you Ron Stampler and Terry Jr. Stampler and Scary Terri Marlowe Stampler. They are ridiculous and excellent. Honestly though, their wonderful energy was just the prelude to the truly heartbreaking Close clan. These boys are so deep in denial they ought to be worried about the bends. Yikes. I'm really looking forward to watching them try to save hell and make up for lost time.

⚡️ Electromancy! Of COURSE it's all happening at the dance. What kind of school story would this be if everything wasn't going to go down at the dance? Like with all fantasy about young people, I love the mixture of extremely high stakes (colonialism and revolution) and extremely low stakes (but what am I going to WEAR). I can't wait for part two. @electromancypodcast

👟 Keep It Steady!!! New episode of Keep It Steady! Our teenage burnout is faced with the mortifying ordeal of having real friends who love him, which is a wild thing for a teen to have to accept when he has zero self esteem. And then on top of everything, he gets concussed! My boy! @keepitsteadypod

⚖️ The Adventure Zone Imbalance has appeared on the feed, which is a relief to me, a person who hates listening to things on youtube. And Davenport is there! My main man! If y'all need to know anything about me, it's that I love Davenport. I missed these guys so much.

🚀 Travelling Light is a new show from @monstrousproductions, and I am THRILLED. I love a travelogue, I love a character with ties to religion, I love a warm scifi show, I love a recipe. I know from their tumblr that the writer and narrator of this show is Quaker, which is a tradition I'm not very familiar with, so I'm interested to see how that perspective influences this story. It's just so NICE.

👻 I started listening to Magenta Presents this week, in an effort to listen to everything Lindsay Sharman has ever done, and this is spooky. Beth Eyre is always a treat to listen to, and Lucy Roslyn, whose work I am not familiar with, is also a fantastic actor. They have great chemistry. I love a true ghost story, and I love a protagonist who feels like she's slowly losing her mind. @longcatmedia

🪓 I've finally arrived at the bit of Woe.Begone where other actors are showing up, and surprise! It's David Ault again! He's everywhere! I haven't interacted with fans of this show, so I had no idea, and apparently fans hate his character. To be fair, I did too, but now David's here doing the voice, and it's so much WORSE. Well done, David.

🍕 I finished s1 of Gastronaut and started s2, and I find myself enamored with this guy, coming from a place of relative privilege, tearing his preconceptions apart with a fork and a knife. The writing is lush, the story is fascinating, and it really hits the spot for me of "moody thoughtful nonfiction." I love it so much. I can't believe there are only two seasons. How dare they. (I trust them though.)

🧛🏻‍♀️ Re: Dracula is done, and we have announced Carmilla! My role in Carmilla will be less than it was for Drac, but I'm still very excited to get in on making this story. It's going to be amazing.

🧟‍♂️ The Dead's second episode has appeared, and I am continually impressed with the people I work with. What a death scene from Marquis Moore! What good acting from Brandon Nguyen! They are a joy to direct.

As for me, I'm about to start getting Inn Between ready to post! Are you hype? I'm hype. If you like what I do and want to give me a hand, please check out my ko-fi!

See you next week!

#audio drama sunday #audio drama #audio fiction #fiction podcast #freaking podcasts

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unhinged-summer-fun · 2 months ago

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common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 14

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger" Warnings: It's fite nite y'all.

A/N: Dividers by meeee. Also, to celebrate the end of Act 1, this is a two-part drop. I will work as fast as I can to ensure the post is up to snuff, but if you cannot click the link to Chapter 15 at the bottom, try refreshing the page or looking at the series masterlist!

series masterlist

chapter 14: pre-game

Osha tied off the apron around her waist and did a few ankle stretches to prepare for her short shift at the bar. She was about to call it good and clock in a few minutes early when Medora entered the break room.

“Hiii Osha!” she sang, bubbly as ever. She’d been on every shift Osha had so far and had shown her the ropes a little better than Kana had. Anything you need, I’ve got you. It’s quite the boy’s club down here and up there, so we gotta stick together and look out for one another.

“Hi, Medora,” Osha said, enraptured by her coworker’s chaotic entrance. Medora spilled the contents of her purse across the table and pored over it while she spoke.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here; thought you’d be part of the crowd.” She briefly abandoned her search to hang up her jacket. “Alright, where the crap is it…”

“No, Kana tempted me with that double time.”

“Always does—HA!” She held a tube of lipgloss aloft in victory. “Thank god, I spent all day worried.”

“What’s that?”

“My secret weapon. Pretty servers get pretty tips.”

“That seems…” Terrible. Misogynistic. Probably true. “Logical.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s awful, but I like money.” Medora juggled a few cosmetics in one hand as she held up a small mirror in the other. Osha caught her eye in the tiny reflection, and Medora gave a once-over. “You look nice. I’m assuming you aren’t dolled up for cash tips?”

Osha flustered. “Oh, uh. I’ve been trying to wear more makeup. In general. You know. Tips.” But that wasn’t the real reason. After dance night, and then after she’d left some on his coffee cup (This for me? Yeah, that’s for me.), Osha fully believed in the power of wearing lipstick around Qimir. Perhaps wishful thinking got her into this mess, but the compliment from Medora made her feel less… silly.

“Well, regardless of who you’re dressing up for, that color looks amazing on you.”

“I’m not—”

“You can dress up for yourself, you know.” She raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “I do it all the time.” She winked at Osha. “In fact, I’m doing it right now.”

Osha smiled, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. She took another seat and watched Medora work while she chattered about her day.

It reminded Osha of her mama, many many years ago. Every few mornings, she would take the time to sit at her vanity and painstakingly twist each loc and braid into a new intricate hairstyle that suited her fancy.

She knew, in retrospect, that this time was a precious commodity to her mother—just a few minutes of quiet that Osha tried her best to preserve, though her sister did not seem to notice. Mae had asked a million questions—about the process, about the history of the styles, about any and everything. But her mama was always happy to be around her daughters, answering each question with patience and respect. She also made sure to smile at Osha, reminding her that she remembered she was there.

It was rare, after losing her, to be remembered at all when she was quiet.

“Would you—um.” Osha hated this. She hated vulnerability, especially around people she hardly knew.

“What’s up?” Medora drew her riot of curly hair back into a high ponytail, then let it back down when it didn’t please her.

“My sister and I didn’t really grow up around—well, we lost our—she was actually kind of popular at school so she—I have no idea what I’m doing, really.” She was grateful Medora was the only one bearing witness to her idiocy. I could always leave town if this conversation blows up in my face. Start over. Live in the woods. Take a fake name. But first, one more shot at courage: “I never learned how to do any of that. We weren’t around many women who were dressed up.”

Medora just smiled. It filled Osha’s heart with something warm, like the memory of a Sunday morning in a place that no longer existed. “I got you,” Medora said.

Within a few giggling seconds, she had put Osha’s hair in a new style she was no longer hiding behind. This will show off your neck and cheeks—you have a beautiful smile, don’t keep it from the world. She went back and freed a few locs from her bangs—now this will make you alluring. And it’ll hide any eyeliner sins in a pinch. You have such beautiful hair. Just shake your hair a little and it’s like a baby with keys to anybody looking.

It was so simple in retrospect. So much impact, just out of reach because of all she’d lost. Medora clapped happily when Osha looked utterly stunned by the change. “You’re going to get tipped, baby!”

It was an incredible feeling. She’d had the same style since she was a child—easy to maintain, comfortable, familiar. Mae had grown her hair out a few times, but in recent years had gone back to matching Osha. It made the misidentifying in the gym a much more frequent occurrence.

Changing things up made her feel like an entirely different person.

Kana poked his head into the break room, holding a disgusting-looking bucket hat at his side. “What are you two giggling about?”

“You, of course.”

He rolled his eyes. “C’mon, we’re doing the draw. Would you grab them for me, please?”

Medora began plucking the time cards out of their slots and handing them to Osha. She found the common thread: these were the time cards of those on shift tonight. When she left several behind, including Kana, Osha, and herself, Osha went to reach for them and was stopped.

“I grabbed all I need.”

“But yours and—”

“Oh, I don’t go in the draw. Neither do you.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll see.”

She led the way to the kitchens, where everyone circled around Kana and his stupid hat. He collected the time cards in the hat and shook them around. “Okay, hey! Shut up! Drumroll, please. Tonight’s tuh-ripple pay bouncer is…” He plucked a card from the rest. The impromptu clatter ceased. “Dante!”

The gathered mass responded with a mix of cheers and groans, reminding Osha of watching her first fight at Unknown Planet. As ever, this place baffled her as much as it made her smile.

Kana returned the timecards to Medora with a soft thanks before leaving for front-of-house. She explained what just happened as Osha helped put the cards back in their places.

“Here’s Eltara’s, you’re closer—have you guessed what all that was about?”

“Bouncer duty?”

“Yup.”

“Triple pay?”

“Yup.”

Osha slid the card into a slot neatly labeled ELTARA LOHARNE. “Why’d you leave some behind? I thought Kana would be in it, at least.”

“Kana got the honors last month. Your name stays in the hat until you get picked, and after that, it stays out of the hat until everyone’s gone once. Then they’re all put back in again. Triple time has the capacity to wreak havoc on workplace relations.” She scribbled a little red star in the corner of Dante’s time card, then pointed out the same mark on Kana’s. “So we don’t mix ‘em up.”

“But my name didn’t go in.” Did they think Osha couldn’t do it?

“You haven’t won a fight in the cage… yet. Once you do, you’re in.”

Osha hoped that once she won a fight, she would be in every fight night after, like Qimir. But she hadn’t gone up against anybody for years now, and there was no telling if she’d even win that first match.

“That might be a while,” Osha sighed. “He seems to be overly cautious with my training.” She tapped Qimir’s slot, sitting just above hers. He’d gotten a normal label, Q LOHARNE. Kana had thought putting an OSHA COMPLIANT sticker on hers instead was hilarious.

“I mean, you don’t gotta be nominated by Q. Kana would nominate you if you asked him. Anybody who saw that spar a few days ago would nominate you—that was badass.”

“You saw that?” Osha cringed a little.

“Hell yeah, I did!” Medora laughed and finished her stack of cards. “I’d be so jazzed if I saw you on bouncer duty. I’d just sit and wait for you to toss some huge idiot down the stairs.”

“Thank you?”

“But it’s not just about capability. It’s about respect. If you have a win, especially an uncontested win, gen-pop will listen. The more wins under your belt, the more clout you collect, the less of a hard time they’ll give you. It’s math.”

Osha noticed there was no red star on Medora’s timecard.

“Why aren’t you in the pool?”

Medora’s smile was sad, a faraway quality to her eyes. “I train, but I don’t want to fight. Not every Loharne is made for the cage.”

Qimir had said there were Loharnes all over the city—orphaned children that carried the name into maturity. Nearly half of all the names on the rack were Loharnes—Q and Kana, who were already known to her, but seeing MEDORA LOHARNE near the bottom was a bit of a surprise, given that she wasn’t as reserved in her emotions as Qimir and Kana sometimes were. Osha remembered being numb to most of her feelings for the first year following her mothers’ deaths. Some days, she didn’t think she’d grow out of it.

“I understand that,” Osha said softly. “But I don’t even know why I’m disappointed. I’m sure it’ll be ages before I’m ready.”

“Only you can decide when you’re ready to face something. Having someone you trust to back you up when you do decide is encouraging, though.”

That was news. “Huh?”

“The nomination system.” Medora tucked a few things in the pockets of her apron. “Depends how you look at it, I guess. Take the heart out of it, and it’s just like… co-signing on a loan. At first, it was almost an indemnity clause, considering what it took to implement the system in the first place. That was a bit of a nightmare—the whole Lance thing.” Her face went a little stony at the mention.

“Lance?”

Medora quirked her head to the side. “The guy who attacked Idise ten years ago? I’m surprised Q hasn’t told you. It was and—well, still is big news here.”

“Oh!” Osha flustered. “I—he told me about it, I just didn’t know the guy’s name.” Even so, she didn’t know there was so much gossip she was missing out on.

“Yeah. Like I said. Nightmare. But anyway, if you’re a romantic, the nomination thing is so swoon-worthy. Back when it started, I heard people talk about how it represented this culmination of a relationship with someone at the gym—you spend so much time training with somebody that you form a special connection. Then they say you’re ready. Not only that, but they’re ready—to tie their reputation to yours when you get in the ring. Maybe I’ve just read too many bodice-rippers, but where else do you sign your name next to someone like that but a marriage certificate?”

Osha tried her best not to walk straight into a wall, and failed. Medora didn’t comment, too wrapped up in her diatribe.

“Then again, the whole thing could be a comedy—in the way that comedy is just tragedy plus time. You do all that, you subscribe to the ideology, someone vouches for you—and then you get your shit rocked in a nomination match? Now that’s embarrassing. The person who vouched for you gets remembered for your fuckup. Until a new embarrassment takes your place, that is. See? Tragedy plus time equals comedy.”

Osha still couldn’t bring herself to laugh about it. But Medora certainly wasn’t joking.

Kana released her from her shift about ten minutes after the crowd went upstairs. She bypassed the public staircase (where Dante dutifully stood his post) and headed directly to the dressing rooms to change, knowing at least one fighter would let her in.

Her path brought her face to face with another person headed in the other direction. He was handsome, in an I-got-my-nose-job-from-a-fist kind of way. Osha didn’t recognize him, but Unknown Planet was an all-hours joint. They could have differing schedules.

He didn’t recognize her either, asking, “Are you and I fighting tonight?” He gave her a slow once-over. He was about three times her size, but Medora’s enthusiastic vision of Osha tossing some huge idiot down a flight of stairs kept her from feeling intimidated or creeped out. She took no offense, knowing the brash culture of Unknown Planet was a fact of life. In some ways, she liked it.

She noticed the green balaclava in his hands. Brawler.

“Not tonight, buddy.”

“Aw, we’re buddies? I’d love to be friends, thank you.”

Osha laughed. Years of intensely repressed connection at the Temple had set her up for failure when it came to flirting (and, honestly, friendship), but Unknown Planet didn’t care for formality. In fact, they were at times brazen enough to hit on her in the brief seconds Qimir stepped away during their sessions. It was almost a game, how long can I flirt with Osha before her scary dog gets back and glares me to death. As superficial and vapid as it was, it made her feel wanted. Accepted. Welcomed.

And it drove Qimir insane when she engaged with it.

“Sure. Let’s be friends, Sour Patch.”

He looked delighted, but a new voice cut in with a razor’s edge—right on cue.

“Osha.”

Hello, my strange, scary dog.

Qimir stood on the upper landing of the stairs, looking more than ready to charge the man in front of her if she gave the signal.

“I was just headed up,” she assured him. She turned to the fighter before her. “I’ll just slip by you, thanks!”

Sour Patch let his hand brush her lower back, and she threw an exaggerated scowl over her shoulder. “See you around, buddy,” he said playfully, pocketing his mask and entering the gym level.

Qimir’s expression was overwhelmingly displeased when she arrived on the landing. “Are you alright? Did he try anything?”

He looked her over without trying to hide it, assessing her in hopes of finding the tiniest justification to pound Sour Patch into a fine paste.

“Of course I’m alright. He’s harmless.”

“He’s a brawler.”

“You’re a brawler.”

He pouted at the comparison.

“C’mon, I wanna change before the fights start.”

This time, when a hand came to rest on her lower back, she didn’t scowl. At the zing of sensation that rippled up her spine, Osha stood up straighter, preening at the attention. Qimir walked side by side with her, holding his ground even as other masquerade fighters were made to squeeze against the wall as they passed by. Like schools of fish yielding to a great white shark.

Beyond the black door, everything quieted. The usual pulse of we’re alone bled through her awareness as it always did when the world was shut away from them. Instead of getting caught in the moment, she did what she came here to do—change her clothes.

“How was your first shift?” Qimir asked.

She unbuttoned her black blouse, fighting the demons telling her to go out in the dressing room and do this. “It was fine.”

“I’m glad.” She could hear him fiddling with KT tape in the other room, the plasticky slide of release film dropping in a familiar pattern as he smoothed tape over his thumb, his—

She remembered, once, coming back from the showers at the pool to find him lined up in front of the mirror in the studio, shorts tugged way high one hip as he smoothed two lengths of gray tape from his inner thigh up to the crease of his hip. Hip flexor acting up, he’d said. Osha hadn’t been able to think straight through her whole cooldown.

She wondered if it was acting up tonight.

“N-nearly ran out of pockets for tips.”

“I’m not surprised,” he chuckled. Pretty servers get pretty tips, Medora had said. Osha tried not to read so deeply into three words as to pull a compliment out of thin air. It felt so incredibly silly of her to think, but there was still a small voice in her head asking does he think I’m pretty?

They chatted a little more, but there was an undertone in his voice that harkened back to when he picked her up earlier that evening.

Is everything alright?

When she saw him in the parking lot, she was hit by a wave of tension. Everything Indara told her that afternoon weighed her down and almost froze her feet in place. Crimes. Private investigator. Gangs. She wanted to tell him what was going on, wanted to do anything to let him know her sympathies had deepened, strengthened from a current to a riptide.

I can tell something’s the matter.

It wasn’t like Osha was in the practice of hiding her emotions from him. Sometimes, he knew her moods better than she did. But this time, she’d been very aware of her anxiety.

We don’t have time to get into it, but trust that I’ll be okay, Qimir.

He’d left it at that, but had been a little quiet during the drive to the bar.

And now he seemed to want to ask again.

“I got to witness the bouncer draw,” she said lamely.

She knew Qimir would never ambush her in here, but even in the relative privacy the bathroom provided, she felt like someone—something—was watching her.

Her voice trailed off from what she was saying when she noticed the Smiley mask draped on the little sink. Without him wearing it, the mask felt a little more sinister. A memory whispered why.

We wear masks and take fake names to prevent the guilt from killing us. Beneath the mask… There is no honor or glory in winning that mask. And the only people who know that are the ones who win it, the ones who have to wear the mask.

She didn’t know what came over her when she reached out to touch it for the first time. She ran a fingertip over the embroidered silver teeth that slashed through the black. Some were jagged and broken, some were whole. Some were over large, others miniscule and precise. It was an uncanny grin, more teeth than should be there—stretching almost ear-to-ear.

She discovered that there was more hiding in the dark fabric than she thought: parts of the material which had been frayed or ripped in the past were stitched back together in a patchwork manner she hadn’t been able to see before. She looked closer at one of the gnarled lines of black thread on the back of the hood, stretching almost ornamentally from one side to the other, in a thick snarl that resembled a familiar scar—

“Try it on.”

Osha yelped, jumping out of her skin.

“Fucking shit, Qimir!” she yelled. “What?”

He looked deeply amused by her antics, leaning on one side of the doorframe. “You should try it on,” he repeated calmly.

She frowned down at the mask clutched in her fist. “Are you trying to give me conjunctivitis or something?”

“Do I look like I have pink eye?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

The little eye-holes stared back at her from her hands, and she had to admit, she was tempted.

“Can you even see in this?” she asked.

“Not really. None of us can. It’s like a sensory deprivation experience.”

“What’s the point of that?” she scoffed. “Seems counterintuitive—the most exciting fight of the night, the eight wildest fighters, and they’re all blinded.”

“If we could see each other perfectly, the fight would be over too quickly. Like this, it’s just you…” he shuffled closer, trapping her against the sink while looking down at the mask in her hands. “And what you bring with you.”

She attempted to dodge out of the verbal corner he’d backed her into. The physical corner, however, she made no attempt to leave. “Someone told me you never let a fight get over eight minutes in the cage.”

He shrugged. “I don’t think about that when I’m in there, wearing that.”

“What do you think about, then?”

“Try it on and find out.” That was the third time he’d told her to.

“Fine.” She turned to the mirror, making sure to be careful with Medora’s efforts as she pulled the mask over her head. To her surprise, the mask wasn’t scratchy or unpleasant. It hugged every part of her face, none of the fabric sagging or bunching up uncomfortably. It took her some finagling to get the eyes in the right spot, but when she looked up at her reflection…

She’d seen her face more than most. Mirrors were one thing, but when another person wore the same face as you, it made you more aware of how you looked.

Her eyes looked different in the mask. Accepting that the person staring back at her was herself felt like swallowing a hot stone. It was intense and it was strange, but the longer she held her own gaze, the more she understood why the other fighters felt capable of violence. Behind such flimsy anonymity, consequences seemed far away.

Turning her head this way and that, she tested the peripheral vision afforded to her. There was very, very little.

“Yeah, you’re right, I can’t see sh—oh.” She made to turn around, but came in contact with an immovable wall at her back.

Qimir looked utterly enchanted by the sight of her in his mask, eyes going between her reflection and what was before him. One of his hands caged her against the small sink, and the other went up to hold her chin, moving her this way and that. The silver embroidery caught and fled from the light like fish scales in a river. One tooth would disappear as she turned her head left, only to reappear when she turned back. His thumb brushed over the edge of the smile, just below her cheekbone.

She wondered if he could feel the heat in her face as easily as she felt the heat in his hands.

“When I fight,” he said softly, hypnotized, “I use all senses available to me. My eyes aren’t the best on their own, but your eyes can deceive you. We must not trust them.” Osha felt a curl of unease twist around the curl of desire strengthening in her core. She knew that line, she’d heard it before—“To become so reliant on what you can see will betray you when what you didn’t see becomes the real danger.”

His hand came around to cover her mouth, pausing a moment as he hid the smile from view before he dragged his fingers back across every inch of that smile. “I can tell where they are just by breathing. Fear has a taste, a scent, and they all fear me.”

It tickled as he brushed a thumb over her ear, the fabric making a soft, crushing noise against it that made her shiver. “I listen for them, through the screams of the crowd. Some breathe so loud I could hit them in the dark.”

His hand moved back to cover her mouth, then drifted downward, over her chin and under her jaw to wrap lightly around her neck—then he rested his hand over her pounding heart. “Another reason to control your breathing—to hide from me.”

She almost moaned as his hand brushed the side of her breast on its way to take her hand, moving it to press against her belly. He brought his lips down beside her ear. “The sense of feeling is tied closely to intuition. You have to know your body and its impulses in order to feel where things are in relation to you. When you understand the signals your body gives you, it will tell you everything you need to know.” He paused to ensure her eyes were on his.

They looked almost obscene like this in the mirror, his body curled around hers, trapping her like prey. “Especially the pain,” he whispered, lips drifting to where the mask ended in the crook of her neck. “The pain tells you how to survive, if you listen to it. If you feel it, if you taste it.”

The white-hot slide of his tongue over Osha’s bare shoulder pulled a weak whimper from her, and just as quickly as it had come, he left, lifting his head again and drawing backwards. His parting words were, “I don’t think about anything when I wear this. I feel everything.”

He let go of her, leaving her slightly sagging against the sink. Looking over her shoulder at him, his expression told her he would not apologize for invading her space like that, for touching her so—so… possessively. Tonight, he was at his rawest self, primal in a way few men could truly become.

He wanted her, no doubt about it. And she wanted him, but… first, a touch of shyness.

She broke his gaze to peel off the mask, fixing her hair as she chattered through her nerves. She noticed him sliding the mask off the sink, pocketing it without a word. “I bet my first time in the ring, I’ll just black out and forget everything you ever taught me.”

He smiled slowly when he met her eyes again, content as a cat in a sunbeam. “I’ll make sure your first time is—”

The rabble in the gym crept to an unignorable volume beyond the dressing room. Osha looked in the direction of the noise, heart in her throat. Qimir looked like he really wanted to finish speaking, but she asked, “Do you wanna go watch? You could… talk strategy with me? Or talk shit?”

She saw him stuff down whatever the feral animal in him wanted to do, punctuated by a smile. “You have a point. After all, you’ll be in the one-on-ones before you get invited to the masquerade.”

“Oh my god I think I just got the joke.”

“What joke?” he said.

“The masquerade brawl that ends at midnight? And you need to have an invitation to dance?”

“We’re not dancing in there—”

“It’s a turn of phrase, oh my god. Let’s go.”

The balcony was surprisingly sturdy—nothing rattled or shook beneath their feet as they strutted past the other masquerade fighters watching the current match.

It was difficult to understand what was going on until Qimir explained to her: the two men fighting were tasked with repeatedly throwing one another onto the mat using the exact same form every time. Qimir had her answers ready before she even asked a question.

“Decision-determined matches are rare here. They aren’t run or scored like what you’re used to.”

“Who are the judges?” she asked, peering into the crowd for any sign of an officiant’s table. “Where are the judges?”

Qimir pointed to a dark, mirrored window set in the brick wall on the opposite side. She’d never noticed it before, but now the gaze of the black, gaping maw on high seemed inescapable. “I’m sure you have questions about the organizers, but not even I have those answers.”

“The match organizers are also the fight judges?”

He shrugged as if saying, why shouldn’t they be? “This fight is an endurance test. Keep your form perfect for every throw, and hopefully, you outlast your opponent.”

“Sounds like it would go on forever.”

“You think you could perfectly throw a 200-pound guy over your shoulder the same way with the same force, forever? After also being slammed to the mat ten seconds prior?”

Thwack! One of the fighters shook their head in a daze. The one who just threw them down helped them up.

Qimir had a point. Damn it. She hated it when he had a point. “Fine. Just seems boring.”

“It’s one of the more impressive feats of strength. This is similar to my nomination match.”

“How long ago was that?”

“It’ll be… 10 years next month, on the new moon.” That’s more than a hundred fight nights. How many has he—

Thwack! Groan. Stand up. Cheer.

As the other fighter prepared to throw again, Osha nudged his shoulder with hers. “Who nominated you?”

A muscle feathered in his jaw, and though he went still and didn’t look away from the fight, she could tell he wasn’t really looking at it. “Idise.”

Back when it started, I heard people talk about how it represented this culmination of a relationship at the gym—you spend so much time training with somebody that you form a special connection.

Acidic jealousy burned in Osha’s mouth. It was ten years ago. Chill.

“I didn’t know you two knew each other that long.”

“She’s known me since before I joined.”

Where else do you sign your name next to someone like that but a—

“Dang. Long time.”

The conversation lulled a little, and Osha tried not to feel like the fighter getting slammed into the mat. She had to get a fucking grip. “Well, the point is to win the match, so how do I win? If I was in the ring, right now, how do I win?” she babbled.

He watched another few throws before shaking off his fugue to speak. He pointed out flaws in their stances—they were actually losing energy just from standing still. From that point, he talked about kinetic momentum and adrenaline-fueled motion. “If you let yourself walk around even a few steps between throws, your heart rate will be in the perfect place to remain focused and physically ready—mustering your energy from baseline each time kills your stamina.”

It wasn’t what she expected to hear. She’d expected him to say something about finding an opponent’s weakness and drilling down into it every time. To treat every round like it was the last round. But, she realized with a jolt, that was just how the Temple trained them.

Qimir’s advice, by comparison, urged her to stay in the moment and ground herself in reality, not imagine herself at the finish line. There is no finish line. There’s just the road in front of you.

Another few fights passed before Osha recognized an event from last month: two opponents and one knife dropped between them like a hockey puck.

“Crowds love this one,” Qimir chuckled. “Shit, I love this one.” He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “What would you do?”

“I don’t even know how to hold a knife. I couldn’t give a right answer if I wanted to.”

“I wasn’t asking you so you’d tell me the right answer. I know you don’t have any weapons training—but you’re still a fighter, Osha. You’re allowed to weigh in on things you don’t know about—more than that, I want you to. It’s one of the most effective ways we learn. By guessing.”

“You mean you want me to fuck around and find out.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

Osha hummed and leaned her arms on the railing to peer closer at the intense exchange. The fighter without the knife had both hands free to pull the other fighter into a complicated kneeling grapple.

“Well… from one perspective, getting to the knife’s a speed contest, so you’d have to know something about your opponent’s footwork relative to your own. Are you faster, or are you not?”

He hummed, encouraging her to go on. She paused as the armed fighter lost his grip, sending the knife skittering toward the fence.

“You could just ignore the weapon entirely,” she mused. “Draw blood another way.”

“The rules state that if there’s a weapon in the cage and victory is decided by first blood, the blood must be drawn by that weapon.”

Hm. She watched the pair scramble for the knife, as if hearing Qimir’s input from on high.

“Well. Uh. Another perspective is…” the same fighter from before took control of the knife. “Knowing someone’s strengths as well as their weaknesses.”

“You intend to spy on your opponents before their matches?” he said dryly.

“No, I mean—shut up.” She grumbled and pouted. “If it was me in there against you, you would know I would be more harm to myself if I had the knife in my hands. I could defeat myself for you.”

“Believe it or not, the organizers won’t put a weapon in your hands that you’re not familiar with. Nor would they put you up against someone that surpasses your ability enough to make you seem like a novice. The fights are balanced, so it’s a challenge to win, but not impossible.”

That complicated things. “But I’m right. You can still turn someone’s perceived strength into a weakness to get them to bleed.”

“Everybody has a weakness,” he ceded. “But seeing opponents as a stack of strengths and weaknesses holding a knife doesn’t change the fact that they can still hurt you. What did I say about fear and danger?”

“Denying your fear doesn’t erase the danger. It only makes it harder to survive.”

“Good girl. Now watch—”

How could she, when he spoke to her like that so casually?

He gave her a play-by-play from his point of view. “And that’s a victory right there.”

“What? The fight’s not over.”

“Believe in the power of the armbar.”

The unarmed fighter had pulled the other into a hold, the knife just inches from his face. The grappled fighter tried to twirl the knife in his trapped hand, blade flashing in the light. But the other moved quickly, squeezing his wrist and jerking his whole body to get him to jab himself in the forearm.

The bell rang, and though it was too far for Osha to see it, the roar of the crowd signaled that first blood had been shed. She applauded, feeling like a guest at the side of an emperor, watching gladiators bleed for his imperial amusement.

“The most important thing to remember in these match-ups is that battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won. You have to choose to win before you ever step in the ring.”

“What’s that, a little bit of hard-earned violence-based wisdom?” she said teasingly.

“Walt Whitman.”

A startled, overly loud laugh escaped her, turning a few heads in their direction. Osha hid her face against his shoulder, trying to stifle her giggles but failing. She wasn’t entirely sure, but the gentle touch on her head felt like a kiss.

She certainly hoped it was.

“You don’t need to worry about what will happen before the match starts. Things can go a hundred thousand ways once the bell rings, and only some of them will go right—even fewer will go as planned.” He raised a hand to trace over her bare back, distracted by the cut of her shirt. It was similar to the one she’d worn to dance night, so his fascination felt warranted. He let his hand fall flat on the small of her back, a warm weight she could have purred at.

“You make it sound like someone with no training can enter the ring and win by a mile just by improvising.”

“Yes and no,” he shrugged. “If you recognize when the winds shift in each moment, you can make almost anything work to your advantage.” He turned to face her, his face gone a little serious. “I’m not training you to make you into a trophy machine, Osha. I’m training you to make the best decisions for any moment, but only when you choose to fight.”

It was surprisingly tender. The conviction in his posture spoke volumes to the degree he believed that. It was strange to see vulnerability in his eyes, especially after the heat in them from earlier. When she asked herself why he felt so strongly about her choice to fight, Indara’s voice rang in her head.

She only fostered him so she could take him to tournaments and competitions across the state.

Qimir was clearly about to ask what she was thinking, but a new (well, new-ish) voice interrupted him.

“There you are, buddy!”

Fuck.

Osha sighed, grimacing in a way she hoped could be misinterpreted as a smile. She turned away from the suddenly stone-faced Qimir. “Hey there, Sour Patch.”

“Watching the matches? Save some interest for the last one of the night, would ya?”

“Oh, I’ll try.”

Qimir was a block of ice behind her. His warmth, so reliable and steady, had chilled unexpectedly. The hand on her lower back curled into a fist around a handful of her shirt—there was no way he’d done that consciously. She’d seen Qimir get cold like this before when speaking to some of the other fighters in the gym, but never to this degree. It was plain to see it for what it was:

Possessiveness.

“So you’ve been to one of these before…”

Sour Patch did not, at all, take the rebuffs Osha threw back at him. The wall of silence behind her felt solid enough to—

Hm.

Just to make things interesting, she let herself lean against Qimir. The hand at her waist felt like a goddamn claw.

“No, I actually haven’t seen The Godfather. Haven’t had the inclination. Ever.”

The claw squeezed. She could imagine him whispering, attagirl.

“Oh my god, you’re absolutely missing out. Why don’t you come over and we can—”

The creature behind her scoffed. She rested a hand on the claw, tracing her fingertips over his knuckles.

“I’m pretty on the hook for literally the rest of forever, sorry,” Osha told Sour Patch with an overly kind smile.

Perhaps the smile was too much, because he said, “So Wednesday night, are you free?”

Qimir inhaled like a bull about to charge, nearly disengaging his hold on her to engage his fist into the other guy’s face. Osha moved fast. Her hand shot out, patting the oblivious man’s bicep in an objectively condescending way. “Maybe if you win tonight,” she said, hiding her fangs behind a pretty smile.

Sour Patch lit up, and the beast behind her relaxed. His hand snaked around her middle, tracing a thumb over her piercing. He was oozing satisfaction. Sour Patch has no idea what he’s getting into.

“Well, get ready for a three-part marathon, then!” To her delight, Sour Patch turned around and walked away—probably for the best.

Qimir whirled Osha around like a goddamn top. He wore the same heated look from earlier when she tried on his mask. Heat flared in her core. Her eyes went to his mouth, where he bit his lower lip in consideration—or perhaps the last vestige of self-control. What thoughts hid behind those eyes?

“Maybe if he wins tonight?” he repeated slowly, an eyebrow rising with incredulity.

“I think it’s fair,” she said, heart racing. She couldn’t remember how to slow her pulse down—couldn’t remember even with a knife to her throat. His hands on her made it hard to think, let alone breathe.

“Fair,” he chuckled. “Did I give you the impression that I was a fair person?”

“Yes.”

His eyes flashed a little. It reminded her how a predator’s eyes would glow at night. “You should rethink that.”

“I won’t.”

His jaw flexed. “Last chance.”

“No.”

“And what if I win tonight?”

“I didn’t know you wanted to watch The Godfather with me so badly.”

“You’ve no idea the things I want to do with you, Osha. Nor how badly I want them.”

They were standing so close. The shouting and cheering of the crowd below went quiet under the thundering of her heart, and even the lights went a little sparkly and out of focu—

She needed to breathe.

Her ragged inhale sounded like she’d surfaced after nearly drowning. Felt like it, too. Qimir’s face flickered in surprise but melted into a much more pleased expression. “You should go down to the cage, Osha,” he purred.

“Why?”

Because he can’t control what he’ll do next if you stay.

He didn’t have to say it for her to know it.

It wasn’t a dismissal, but his command certainly dictated she should go. Before she did, Osha surged forward to wrap her arms around him. “Good luck.”

He stiffened, and Osha held him tighter. After a few seconds, he returned the embrace and thanked her quietly.

“You know, you need to work on that,” she said once they pulled away.

He chuckled. “What?”

“Receiving hugs.”

His eyes sparkled with good humor. “Well, I might need to find a trainer if that’s the case.”

“I dunno, my schedule could be booked.”

“To the rest of forever?” he teased.

She shrugged and turned to walk away.

“If I win tonight,” he said, catching her wrist. “Maybe I can get a free trial pass?” He tilted his head to the side, ignoring the world around them.

Osha wrapped her hand around his bicep, one finger at a time, before she squeezed, digging her nails in just as he’d held her in his claws. She didn’t stop there. She leaned in so her lips brushed his ear as she whispered, “Win first. Then we can discuss the spoils.”

She didn’t stick around to see the look in his eyes, but she could feel it long after she joined the crowd.

Kana found her in the crush of bodies.

“You are gonna get squished, girl,” he laughed. He escorted her closer to the cage and assumed the duties of an immovable human wall behind her.

“Thank you!” she said cheerfully.

They chatted a little between matches. “How’s training going? Q train you on any weapons yet?”

“Nah, not yet. We’ve only sparred a few times, but not at full strength or speed. I gotta say, though… those look fun.”

The fighters in the ring clashed their broadswords together in a shower of sparks that fired up the crowd. They wore full-cage helmets, half-plate armor, and steel gauntlets. This was the last fight before the finale, and the energy was palpable, the scent of blood and sweat permeating the air.

Kana laughed, big and booming. “I’m sure you’d kick ass regardless of familiarity with the weapon, and that’s a hill I’d kill anybody on.”

He had such a way with words.

“…thank you, Kana.”

“I also guarantee you’ll be invited to the brawl just because everyone wants to see what he’ll do.”

She frowned up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, what he’ll do when you and Idise get in front of him at the same time.”

“Idise?” she said hollowly.

—you spend so much time training with somebody that you form a special—

“Did he not tell you? Q and Idise are pretty close outside’a here.” Kana looked concerned at whatever Osha was doing with her face, but he continued. “I’ve known him longer than anyone else here, but she’s been with him through some hard shit. A few people think Q and Idise were seeing each other on and off for a few years.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Think that they were together.”

She was trying to keep the jealousy snarling in her chest from leaping out her mouth. Osha had the urge to run back upstairs and leave a hundred purple kiss marks marking him as her—

“No. Q’s a lonely guy, and I think he prefers it like that. Him and Idise… I can’t tell for certain because they don’t really hang out, but I’m pretty sure whatever they got going on, it’s strictly on the platonic side. Things have been different recently.” He dared to wink at her, either willfully or unintentionally oblivious to her thunderous mood. “Since you came ‘round, and even before then.”

“Like what?”

“Well. Few months back, this perfect storm starts brewing. Q dropped the fuck off the map the same time the fuckin’ Lance guy was let back in the gym.”

“Let back in?” she squawked. One of the swordfighters staggered back into the cage, rattling the whole circumference with the impact.

Kana nodded. “He said he was robbed of his nomination match and wanted a second chance to prove himself. Everyone here saw straight through that shit. Fucker just wanted to get back at Idise for embarrassing him. We all did our best to ignore him, and nobody said shit to his face, but shit was dicey; a lotta people questioned the PTB for allowing him back on the premises, let alone in the fights.

“But they did allow it. He signs up. His match night comes. He’s not fighting Idise, of course, but he wins. Q shows up in the last round after a month of silence and wins his eighth brawl in a row. Some people say they saw him talking with Idise later on, but he disappeared right after that. Bunch’a people started rumors about it.”

“What’d they say?”

“Well, someone asked Idise where he’d been, and she got all defensive about it, wouldn’t say. My guess is she didn’t know, and had gone to ask because she was worried about him. We all were.”

He’d been pretty wound-tight for a while, and it seemed like he needed that break two-ish months ago. We were all pretty worried when he took it so abruptly.

“Now, shit gets even dicier with the PTB. Not only do they invite Lance to the brawl, they invite Idise. Nobody’s heard from Q. Isn’t answering calls or texts. I don’t even think he replied to the invite email, don’t think he even looked at it. Lance and Idise avoid each other like the plague in the gym. And no, winning did not warm any of us to him.”

Osha jumped a little at the clang from a sword hitting a solid chest plate.

“Night comes. They call everyone in for the brawl, rah rah, Lance gets called—he was Dizzykid when it happened—it goes fucking silent in here. They call Idise in, coulda blown the fuckin roof off. Everybody expected Idise to go round two with this motherfucker, just put him back in his place same as before. I’d say ninety percent of the bets were on that. And do you know what happened when Smiley walked in?”

“What?” Osha said, mouth a bit dry. She wasn’t even pretending to look at the fight anymore.

“He looked at Idise in the cage and turned to Wise, asking, the fuck is she doing in here? Wise just smiled at him, then he pointed at Lance. Smiley asks again, what’s he doing here? And Wise just smiiiiles. Like he knew what was about to go down.”

Historically, those fighters are more likely to snap when provoked.

“—and let me tell you, it was brutal. The match starts, and within two minutes, Smiley is beating Lance’s face down to the first circle of hell. At the first drag-out, his work was done.

“Heard later that Q sent him to the hospital in the same condition Idise did ten years back—practically the same injuries. Did it in less than half the time it took her.”

Story ends with this guy getting sent to the hospital—all fucked up. Busted skull, broken wrists, nearly lost his eye…

“He disappeared again after that fight. I woulda too, if I left a guy looking like that.”

Not just entering the cage. The terrible things I’ve done to leave it.

“Is that why the yellow mask looks all…”

“Disgusting? Yeah. That thing was more red than yellow that night. They wash ‘em, but I doubt that stain will come out anytime soon. I thought they should just get a new one, but my influence ends at the top of the stairs, here.”

“What happened after?”

One of the swordsmen sent the other tumbling to the mat. The crowd roared as the downed fighter rolled left and right to avoid two-handed overhead strikes.

“Well, now that Lance was handled, everyone re-focused on where the hell Q went. Short of sending out Idise to go find him, we all tried to find out. But then… he just shows up one night, pretty girl in tow. Orders her hot soup and a hot toddy.” Kana winked at her just as the bell rang for the end of the match.

They applauded politely and spoke a little more freely now that they were in between matches. “That was the first anyone had seen of him outside the fights. Believe me, you were quite the gossip item. Especially when he started coming back to the gym, training again. Still wasn’t really talking to anybody, though.

“And then you showed up at the fights, and his whole deal changed when he started bringing you around. Follows you around like a puppy. Never seen him like that before.”

Osha could have sworn it was the other way around.

Before she could ask a single thing, a hush fell. The reverent silence that crashed over the crowd was the same as the one she felt a month ago. The masquerade is about to begin.

CHAPTER 15

#common grounds #osha x qimir #oshamir #oshamir fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #unhingery #the acolyte #the acolyte fanfiction

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