#untangling all of this will leave him traumatized | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mattsobvimyfav · 1 month ago

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neighbors (Matthew sturniolo)

pt 7

The morning sun streamed through the curtains as I stirred awake, the warmth of another body beside me pulling me out of my haze. My heart stopped when I realized it was Matt, his arm draped protectively around my waist, his face peaceful in sleep.

Panic coursed through me. What the fuck?

Slowly, carefully, I untangled myself from his hold, making sure not to wake him. His arm tightened for a brief moment before falling slack, and I slipped out of the bed, holding my breath.

Once I was free, I grabbed a hoodie from the back of a chair and pulled it on as I tiptoed toward the door. I paused for a moment, glancing back at him. He looked so… calm. Almost vulnerable. Shaking the thought away, I turned and hurried out of the room.

The second the door clicked shut, I bolted down the hallway, making a beeline for Charlie’s room. I didn’t even knock. I burst through the door, ready to vent—but what I saw stopped me in my tracks.

Charlie and Chris were curled up together, both stark naked under the covers. My jaw dropped, and without thinking, I stormed over and yanked the blanket off them.

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?” I yelled, my voice echoing off the walls.

Chris shot up, his eyes wide as he scrambled to grab a pillow to cover himself.

Charlie groaned dramatically, burying her face deeper into the mattress. “Too early for this,” she muttered, her voice muffled.

“Y/N!” Chris groaned, glaring at me. “Again? Really?”

“Someone tell me why the fuck I woke up laid up with Matt!” I demanded, crossing my arms and pacing in front of their bed.

Charlie peeked out from under her arm, her voice groggy. “You’re too loud.”

“What?” I snapped, my patience wearing thin.

She groaned again, flipping onto her side and propping herself up on her elbow. “Matt carried you to bed, duh.”

“Why?!” I demanded, throwing my hands up. “What even happened?”

Chris sighed heavily, flopping back down onto the bed and staring at the ceiling like he was summoning patience from another dimension. “You barged in here, again, while we were—”

“—mid-stroke,” Charlie added unhelpfully, grinning wickedly as she watched my face contort in laughter.

“CHARLIE!” Chris barked, shooting her a glare.

She just shrugged. “What? It’s true.”

“Oh my god I am so sorry, tell me the details later though. Okay, but what happened after I apparently ruined your nut bust?”

Charlie snorted. “Well, you cried about how Matt wouldn’t touch you, talked about how much you miss him whimpering under you, then flopped on our bed and passed out halfway through telling me about the TSA taking your rose toy.”

My face flushed instantly. “I… what?”

Chris sat up, propping himself on his elbows. “And since you were busy traumatizing us, I went out and told Matt to come deal with you because you clearly weren’t leaving until someone did.”

“Wait,” I said, blinking at him. “So Matt came back in here? Why?”

“To pick your drunk ass up and take you to bed,” Chris said flatly. “Which, by the way, you owe me for. I could have ignored you and stayed in bed, but nooo, I had to play hero.”

Charlie smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s just mad you walked in before he could make me finish.”

“CHARLIE!” Chris groaned, turning bright red.

I groaned too, my hands covering my face. “I don’t remember any of that, I remember telling him at the bar we could fuck on this trip.”

Charlie sat up fully now, her grin growing. “Oh, honey, that’s not even the best part. Apparently, you begged Matt to touch you all the way to your room.”

I froze, my stomach twisting. “No.”

“Oh, yeah,” Chris chimed in, his smirk matching Charlie’s. “You kept telling him how badly you wanted him and how the whole trip you’d been thinking about sleeping with him.”

“Stop,” I whispered, my face burning. “We’ve been here one day.”

“And you even said something about how he could replace your rose toy,” Charlie added, laughing now.

“STOP!” I wailed, burying my face in a pillow.

They both laughed for a moment longer before Charlie scooted closer, rubbing my back. “Relax, babe. Matt didn’t do anything. He just spooned you until you passed out. Honestly, kinda cute. He’s a gentleman.”

“Yeah,” Chris said, his tone suddenly serious. “He told me he wasn’t gonna take advantage of you. Said he’d wait until you were sober and clear-headed.”

I peeked out from behind the pillow, my heart doing a weird flip-flop in my chest. “He said that?”

Chris nodded. “Yeah. He’s mad at you for trying to use him, though but hes not an awful person. Said you’ve gotta figure your shit out before he’ll touch you again.”

I groaned, falling back onto the bed. “Why am I like this?”

Charlie laughed, flopping beside me. “Because you’re messy and chaotic, and we love you for it. But seriously, next time, just get a replacement rose toy before you start drinking.”

Chris stood up, ruffling his hair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go fix my morning wood, since someone ruined last night.”

“Okay at least make her cum this time” I groaned as I walked out.

After walking out of Charlie’s room, I found myself wandering back to my own. My heart raced as I cracked the door open, peeking inside. Matt was still in bed, sprawled out on his back, one arm draped over his stomach, the other resting beside him.

Without even thinking, I stepped in and quietly shut the door behind me. My pulse quickened as I approached the bed, climbing up and straddling his waist. Slowly, I leaned down and started pressing soft kisses along his neck, trailing my lips to the spot just beneath his jaw that I knew would stir him.

Matt stirred beneath me, a low groan escaping his lips as his eyes fluttered open. His hands instinctively came to rest on my hips, his voice husky and groggy.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he murmured, still half-asleep.

I leaned up, my eyes locking with his, my heart pounding but my voice steady. “I meant what I said last night at the bar.”

His eyes widened slightly as my words sunk in. “You’re serious?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and something else I couldn’t quite place.

“I am,” I replied firmly. “Just this trip, Matt. No strings, no expectations. When we get back home, it’s over. But here, I want this.”

He let out a shaky breath, his hands tightening slightly on my hips. “Y/N… you don’t know what you’re saying… don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” I whispered, leaning down again, brushing my lips against his ear. “Do you care about my boyfriend? We are on a break anyways”

Matt’s eyes darkened at my words, his jaw tightening. For a moment, I thought he might push me off, but instead, he let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

“No,” he murmured, his voice low and raspy. “I don’t care about your boyfriend. You know where home is.”

Before I could respond, Matt’s hands slid up to cradle my face, and he smashed his lips onto mine. The kiss was intense and unrelenting, sending a jolt of electricity through me. My fingers threaded into his hair as I pressed myself closer, matching his urgency.

His hands roamed down to my waist, tugging me against him as his tongue slipped past my lips. My heart was pounding so loudly I thought it might burst out of my chest. One of his hands crept beneath the hem of my shirt, as I grinded into him.

Just as he started to lift it higher, the door suddenly flew open.

“Well, well,” Chris’s voice broke through the haze, his tone dripping with amusement. “How does it feel to get interrupted, Matt?”

I tore myself away from Matt, both of us breathing heavily, my cheeks flaming as I whipped my head toward the doorway. Chris and Charlie stood there, arms crossed and grinning like they’d just won the lottery.

“Seriously?” I snapped, trying to compose myself as I tugged my shirt back down.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing. “Oh, don’t stop on our account. It’s just… payback feels so good.”

Matt groaned, dragging a hand down his face before shooting his brother a glare. “Get out,” he growled.

Chris let out a laugh, slapping the doorframe. “Alright, alright. We’re leaving. But man, this is gold. I’m telling Nick.”

“Don’t you dare!” Matt yelled after them, but they were already cackling as they disappeared down the hallway.

I flopped onto my back, staring at the ceiling and covering my face with my hands. “Kill me now,” I muttered.

Matt chuckled softly, leaning over me. “Well, that was...”

I peeked through my fingers, catching the amused glint in his eyes. Despite my embarrassment, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Next time, we'll lock the door.”

“Next time?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes, shoving him playfully. “Don’t push it, Matthew .”

Charlie and I were standing side by side in the bathroom, both of us running through our morning routines. She was blending her concealer while I curled the ends of my hair, the two of us talking about what we wanted to do for the day.

“Beach first, then maybe lunch at that little spot by the water,” Charlie suggested, adjusting her hair in the mirror.

“Sounds perfect,” I replied, reaching for my mascara.

The bathroom door opened suddenly, and Matt leaned against the frame, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Hey, Charlie,” he said casually, his eyes flickering toward me. “Can I borrow Y/N for a second?”

Charlie frowned, her gaze darting between us. “Um… sure, I guess.” She gave me a pointed look before shrugging and slipping out of the room.

I turned to Matt, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up—”

Before I could finish, he stepped closer, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck as he tilted my head up toward him. Without a word, he pressed his lips to mine in a kiss that left me breathless. It wasn’t rushed or desperate like the night before, but slow and deliberate, making my heart pound all the same.

When he pulled back, I blinked up at him, trying to process what just happened. “What was that for?” I asked.

Matt smirked, his thumb brushing against my jawline. “Just getting it all in before the trip’s over.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets again like nothing had happened. “See you out there,” he said over his shoulder before leaving the room.

I stood there, frozen, my lips still tingling from the kiss. A second later, Charlie peeked her head back in. “What the fuck was that about?”

I shook my head, snapping out of it and reaching for my brush like nothing had happened. “Nothing,” I said quickly. “Just Matt being Matt.”

Charlie squinted at me suspiciously but didn’t press it. “If you say so.”

I turned back to the mirror, trying to focus on finishing my hair, but my thoughts were consumed by Matt’s words—and the kiss that still lingered on my lips.

Once Charlie and I finished getting ready, we headed out to the living room, both of us feeling the anticipation of another perfect day in paradise. As soon as we walked in, Chris pulled Charlie toward the fireplace, grinning at something he whispered in her ear. She laughed, swatting his chest playfully before letting him guide her toward the fireplace area.

Meanwhile, I felt Matt’s hands find my hips, pulling me onto his lap on the couch. “Come here,” he murmured, his voice low as his lips found mine.

I didn’t resist. His hands gripped my waist as he deepened the kiss, his touch igniting a familiar heat. I was so caught up in the moment that I barely noticed the faint sound of a TikTok audio playing in the background. I figured it was Charlie and Chris scrolling through their saved sounds, as usual, and didn’t think much of it.

By the time we made it to the beach, the sun was high in the sky, and the sand was warm beneath our feet. We set up blankets and towels and Matt and I sat side by side, sharing a quiet moment as we looked out at the water.

It was peaceful—until all our phones started buzzing at once. I furrowed my brow, pulling mine out to see dozens of notifications lighting up the screen. Confused, I unlocked it and immediately saw the chaos.

“Are you seeing this?” Nick asked, holding up his phone.

Charlie and Chris had posted a TikTok an hour ago—a seemingly innocent montage of clips from our morning. But at the end of the video, there was a brief shot of Matt and me kissing on the couch in the background. It was subtle, but not subtle enough for fans to miss.

The comments were already flooded:

“WAIT WHAT???? Y/N AND MATT??????”

“Girl just had a boyfriend two weeks ago… yikes.”

“She’s the problem, clearly. Poor Matt.”

“Slut. Do better, Y/N.”

“Okay but why do I secretly ship it again?”

“Matt deserves better, tbh.”

My stomach churned as I scrolled through the reactions. Most were negative, accusing me of being unfaithful or jumping back to Matt too quickly. I felt my face flush, the weight of the judgment pressing down on me.

Charlie looked up from her phone, her face pale. “Oh my God, Y/N, I’m so sorry. We didn’t even realize—”

“It’s fine,” I muttered, though my voice was tight. “It’s not your fault.”

But their words echoed in my mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. The peaceful beach day I’d been looking forward to now felt tainted by the storm of online opinions.

The buzzing of my phone pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. I glanced down to see Leo’s name flashing on the screen, accompanied by a flood of text notifications.

“You should probably answer that,” Charlie said cautiously, watching me closely.

With a sigh, I hit the answer button and put it on speaker, figuring Charlie might as well hear this too. “Hello?”

The screaming started immediately.

“Are you serious right now, Y/N?!” Leonard’s voice boomed through the speaker. “You’re a fucking whore! What the hell is wrong with you?! Making out with your ex—and on TikTok no less? You’re embarrassing me, you know that?”

I froze, the words hitting me like a slap in the face.

Charlie’s jaw dropped as she sat up straighter, glaring at the phone. “What the fuck, Leo?” she muttered under her breath.

Before I could gather a response, Matt snatched the phone out of my hand. His jaw was clenched, his eyes burning with fury.

“Listen up, you piece of shit,” Matt growled into the phone, his voice low and venomous. “Don’t you ever talk to Y/N like that again. Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can call her names because you’re upset? Grow up and use your words like a big boy.”

“Stay out of this, Matt,” Leonard spat. “You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side since I met her. You ruined everything!”

“Oh, cry me a fucking river,” Matt shot back, his voice dripping with mockery. “Newsflash: if you were half the boyfriend you thought you were, she wouldn’t even be here with me. So, take your tantrum and shove it up your ass.”

Leonard stammered, clearly at a loss for words. “You—she—”

“She doesn’t owe you anything,” Matt cut him off sharply. “You don’t own her, and you sure as hell don’t get to scream at her like some entitled little brat. Grow the fuck up.”

Leonard’s voice was shaking now, either from rage or humiliation. “This isn’t over,” he hissed before hanging up abruptly.

Matt tossed the phone onto the blanket with a huff, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm down.

I stared at him, equal parts stunned and grateful. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said softly.

“Yeah, I did,” he replied, his tone softer now. “No one talks to you like that, Y/N. No one.”

Charlie nodded firmly. “He’s right. Even though you were on a break he had no right to speak to you like that. Fuck him.”

I let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the blanket. As much as Leo’s words had stung, Matt’s defense of me left an unexpected warmth in their place.

The sun was setting as we headed back to the house, the warmth of the day replaced by a cooler breeze. After hours on the beach, everyone was tired, but the plan was to regroup, clean up, and head out for dinner.

As soon as we got inside, Charlie grabbed my hand, pulling me toward my room. “We need to talk to him now,” she whispered.

I hesitated but nodded, grabbing my phone and dialing Leonard’s number. Charlie sat beside me on the bed, her hand on my knee for support as the line rang.

He picked up after a few seconds. “What do you want?” His tone was icy, his earlier rage still lingering.

“You wanted a break,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. “You told me to take time to figure things out, so how is this fair? How is any of this fair, Leonard?”

There was silence for a beat, and then he scoffed. “You figured things out by making out with your ex? That’s real classy, Y/N.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, muttering, “Oh my god.”

“That’s not the point,” I said, my voice firmer now. “You can’t just… blow up on me when you’re the one who told me you needed space. I’m trying to respect what you asked for.”

“I’m coming to LA as soon as you get back,” he said abruptly, his tone sharp. “We’re going to talk about this in person. You owe me that much.”

I froze, panic creeping in as his words sank in. “Leonard—”

But he’d already hung up.

I stared at the phone in my hand, my chest tightening with fear and nerves. “What the hell?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Charlie frowned, pulling me into a hug. “That wasn’t okay,” she said softly. “You don’t owe him anything, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to deal with this,” I mumbled, my voice cracking as tears welled up in my eyes. “I don’t even know how to handle this. What if he actually comes? What if—”

The sound of the door creaking open made us both look up. Matt stood in the doorway, his brows furrowed in concern. “What happened?” he asked, his eyes flicking between the two of us.

“She called Leonard,” Charlie said quietly, rubbing my back as I tried to hold back my tears. “He’s being an ass. He said he’s coming to LA when we get back, and now she’s freaking out.”

Matt’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “He’s what?”

“He said he’s coming to LA,” Charlie repeated, glaring at the floor. “It’s just… too much.”

Matt crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. He gently reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’re not dealing with this alone, okay? If he shows up, I’ll handle it. You’re safe here. With us.”

I nodded, biting my lip as I wiped at my face. His words were comforting, but the knot in my stomach refused to untangle.

Once we finished getting ready for dinner, Charlie flopped onto my bed, smirking at her phone. “Okay, I have an idea,” she said, holding it up.

I raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

“You and Matt should make a TikTok,” she said casually, scrolling through sounds. “Just… clear some stuff up without actually explaining anything.”

Matt leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “What kind of TikTok?”

Charlie grinned, clicking on a sound. “This one.”

She played the audio: ‘Oops, got your girl, should’ve treated her right. Now she’s with real, she love it over here. Yeah, I love it over here!’

Matt snorted, looking at me. “You’re down for this?”

I hesitated but ultimately shrugged. “Why not? If it gets people off my back, sure.”

We set up my phone on the dresser and rehearsed it once before recording. Matt took the first line, pointing at the camera with his usual smirk: ‘Oops, got your girl, should’ve treated her right. Now she with a real, she love it over here.’

Then Matt turned around with me over his shoulder and I leaned closer and finished: ‘Yeah, I love it over here.’

We watched the playback a few times, laughing at how ridiculous it felt but my ass looked good. “Okay, it’s perfect,” Charlie declared, taking the phone. Matt grabbed it back before she could post anything.

“I got this,” he said, typing in a caption. A second later, he showed it to me: ‘She’s been single. And she knows where home is.’

My jaw dropped, and I lightly shoved his shoulder. “Really?”

He grinned. “What? It’s true.”

With a tap, he posted it, and within seconds, the notifications started rolling in.

Charlie and I sat on the couch, scrolling through the comments.

“Wait, they’re back together?!”

“Home? GIRL, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!”

“The way this is so messy, I love it.”

“Poor Leo, but Matt’s always been endgame.”

“Y/N a whole clown for going back to him 🙄.”

“She needs to stay away from him.”

“He don’t even want her he prolly just feel bad.”

Some comments were sweet, but others were downright brutal. Charlie nudged me with her elbow, giving me a reassuring smile. “Don’t let the haters get to you.”

I shrugged, leaning back into the couch. “Im the one fucking him, theyre just mad.”

Matt walked into the room, leaning over the back of the couch to peek at the screen. “Oh, yeah?” he said casually. “Wanna prove that to me later tonight?”

Charlie laughed and stood. “Alright before yall rip each other's clothes off, go put on something that’s not a T-shirt, and maybe we’ll believe you’re classy enough for dinner.”

Everyone was dressed and ready for dinner, piling out of the Airbnb earlier than planned so we could explore the area before eating. Nick had his vlogging camera out, already recording as we strolled down a cobblestone path lined with shops and palm trees.

Matt walked up to Nick showing the camera, a glass soda bottle. Without missing a beat, he tilted his head, clamped the bottle cap between his teeth, and popped it off effortlessly.

Chris froze mid-step, pointing at him dramatically. “Woah, he can do it with his mouth?!”

The group burst into laughter, and before I could stop myself, I smirked at the camera Nick was holding. “Trust me, he can do a lot with his mouth,” I quipped, throwing in a wink for good measure.

Nick immediately turned the camera to capture everyone’s reactions. Chris keeled over, laughing, while Charlie joined him.

“Y/N!” she laughed.

Matt, however, seemed unbothered. Instead, he just raised an eyebrow, smirking as he took a long sip from the bottle. “She's not wrong, She knows all about it” he smirked, making Chris and Nick howl louder.

Nick turned the camera back to me. “This vlog just got demonetized, thanks to Y/N!”

I shrugged, grinning. “What can I say? I like to brag”

As we strolled toward the restaurant, the golden glow of the setting sun bathed the streets. Chris had his arm slung over Charlie’s shoulders, their fingers intertwined as they walked hand in hand. Naturally, Matt grabbed my hand too, lacing our fingers together with a smirk that said he was trying to get a reaction out of me.

Nick had his camera out, panning from Charlie and Chris to us. “The happy couple…” he narrated dramatically, pausing before turning the lens toward me and Matt. “…And then there’s Matt and Y/N.”

The group erupted into laughter.

“Oh, fuck you, Nick,” I said, grinning as I playfully shoved his shoulder with my free hand.

Nick laughed harder. “What? I’m just saying what the people are thinking!”

Charlie wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “He’s not wrong.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at my lips. Matt, however, played along, pulling me closer and wrapping his free arm around my waist.

“Jealous, Nick?” Matt quipped, raising an eyebrow at the camera.

Nick gasped in mock offense. “Yeah, Y/n is sexy.”

“Fair,” I chimed in, earning another round of laughter.

The restaurant was tucked into a corner of the waterfront, its warm glow inviting as the waves lapped against the nearby docks. The host led us to a private outdoor patio strung with fairy lights, giving the space a magical ambiance. We slid into a large round table, Matt sitting beside me and Chris on Charlie’s other side, with Nick opposite us.

The night started lighthearted.

Nick had his camera set up discreetly on the table, catching candid moments of us all. “Okay, before we even order—best and worst moment of this trip so far. Go.”

Charlie grinned, leaning back in her chair. “Best moment? Definitely the beach yesterday. Worst moment? Trying to wrangle all your suitcases into the car at the airport.”

“You’re welcome,” Matt cut in, sipping his drink with a smirk.

Nick rolled his eyes. “What about you, Y/N?”

“Best moment?” I tilted my head, pretending to think. “Probably cock blocking Chris by accident… Twice.”

“Yeah fuck you big time for that.” Chris laughs. And Charlie nudges him.

When the server arrived, we placed our orders. Charlie and Chris shared appetizers, their playful banter a steady hum throughout the table. Nick teased Matt mercilessly, accusing him of only ordering steak to seem manly.

“Please, hell probably cut it with his teeth like the bottle earlier,” I joked, earning another round of laughter.

As the night went on, the jokes gave way to deeper conversations.

Chris shared a story about a prank he’d pulled on Charlie during one of their earlier dates in college, leaving her laughing so hard she nearly peed her pants. Nick talked about his upcoming projects and teased us about featuring heavily in his vlogs.

And then Matt turned to me, his voice softer as he leaned closer. “What about you? What’s been on your mind?”

Caught off guard, I hesitated before answering. “You.”

Matt nodded, his gaze lingering on me. “Can confidently say you’ve been on mine the past four years.”

As his words hung in the air, something inside me snapped. Four years. Four fucking years. My chest tightened, and I felt my heart pounding in a rhythm that matched the anger bubbling beneath the surface. He said it so easily, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it didn’t matter that he’d been living rent-free in my head for just as long—except, for me, it wasn’t some sweet little daydream. It was a goddamn battlefield.

How dare he? How fucking dare Matt think about me like that—like it was some wistful memory or a quiet longing—when he was the one who left me to pick up the pieces? When he was the one who wrecked me and walked away like it was nothing? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair for him to sit here, leaning closer, saying words that had no right to sound so soft, so genuine, when they came from him.

I stared at him, my jaw tightening as I fought to keep my expression steady, even though my mind was spiraling. I wanted to yell at him, to ask if he’d even considered what those four years had been like for me. Did he ever think about the nights I spent trying to forget him, trying to piece myself back together when he was the one who broke me in the first place?

And now he says this—like it’s supposed to mean something. Like it’s supposed to make up for everything.

I felt my nails dig into my palm beneath the table, grounding myself in the pain because it was better than the storm brewing inside me. This wasn’t reality. It couldn’t be. I’d told myself I wasn’t going to let him—or anyone—pull me back into that. Not after everything I’d done to move on, to be okay again.

But fuck, it felt good to hear it. And that’s what scared me the most.

I had to remind myself that this wasn’t real. That whatever moment we were living in now would dissolve the second this trip ended, and I promised myself I’d stick to that, no matter how good it feels now because he doesn’t deserve me that easily.

I swallowed hard, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. My voice was steady when I finally spoke, but there was no softness left in it. “Must’ve been nice,” I said, meeting his gaze with a sharpness I hoped would cut through him. “Thinking about me for four years. Too bad I didn’t get that time in real life, huh?”

Matt’s jaw tightened, and I could see the flash of surprise and frustration in his eyes as I threw the words at him. He leaned closer, closing the distance between us, his voice low and sharp as he spoke through gritted teeth. “Don’t do this now.”

Before I could respond, his hand gripped my thigh under the table—not hard, but firm enough to send a jolt through me. His touch burned, the contrast between his tense grip and the slow, almost absent-minded way his thumb started rubbing small circles against my leg making my head spin.

I glared at him, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I hissed, my voice low enough that no one around us could hear, but filled with the venom I couldn’t keep in anymore.

Matt’s other arm came around me then, pulling me closer, almost as if he were trying to shield me from something—or maybe himself. His grip on my thigh didn’t loosen, but his body pressed against mine, warm and steady even as tension radiated off him. His jaw clenched, and I could see the way his chest rose and fell, like he was trying to steady his breathing.

Matt’s grip on my thigh stayed firm, his thumb brushing slow, deliberate circles against my skin. His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, as he leaned in even closer. “Stop,” he said again, through gritted teeth. “Just… cut it out. Please.”

The word "please" hit me harder than anything else he’d said. It wasn’t just the frustration in his voice—it was the way it cracked slightly, like he was holding something back. It was enough to snuff out the fire in my chest, leaving behind a heavy ache that I couldn’t push away.

I didn’t fight him this time. I couldn’t. My shoulders sagged slightly, and I let my gaze fall to the table, avoiding his eyes. The weight of his hand on my thigh, the slow, steady rhythm of his thumb, and the warmth of his arm around me all worked together to chip away at my anger.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. But in that moment, I didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. So I stayed still, letting the tension hang between us like a fragile thread, waiting for it to snap.

By the time dessert came, the energy shifted back to playful despite me and matts moment of tension.

Nick ordered the largest slice of cake on the menu, claiming it was “for the table” but proceeding to eat most of it himself. Matt stole a bite, earning a loud protest from Nick, and Charlie and Chris were too wrapped up in their own world to notice.

As we left the restaurant, the night air was cool and refreshing. Charlie hooked her arm through mine as we walked back to the airbnb.

“This trip’s been pretty great so far,” she said quietly, glancing at me with a smile.

I nodded, my thoughts briefly flickering to Matt walking a few steps ahead, laughing at something Chris said. “Yeah,” I agreed. “It really has.”

When we walked up to the house, everyone dispersed quickly. Charlie and Chris headed for the kitchen, Nick grabbed his camera, and Matt… Matt grabbed my wrist as I tried to follow Charlie.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice hoarse. “Can we talk? Upstairs?”

I hesitated, the lump in my throat making it hard to answer, but I nodded.

Matt led the way, his steps heavy as he climbed the stairs. He didn’t say a word as he opened the door to his room, holding it for me before shutting it behind us. The click of the lock sent a shiver down my spine.

I stood awkwardly by the bed as he ran a hand through his hair, pacing a little before sitting heavily on the edge.

“Why do you keep doing this?” he finally asked, his voice cracking on the last word. He looked up at me, his eyes red-rimmed, and the sight made my stomach churn.

“Doing what?” I asked softly, though I already knew.

“This… this thing where you pull me in and then push me away,” he said, his hands gesturing helplessly. “Where you make me feel like maybe, just maybe, I didn’t fuck everything up, and then remind me that I did.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers fidgeting at my sides. “I’m not trying to—”

“Yes, you are!” he interrupted, his voice louder now. “You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t see the way you look at me, the way you let me touch you, like I still mean something to you? And then you say things like… like what you said at the bar. Like it’s just some vacation fling, like none of this matters.”

“Because it can’t matter, Matt!” I snapped, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions. “It can’t. Not after what you did.”

His face crumpled, and he pressed his palms to his eyes, his shoulders shaking. “I know I hurt you. I know I left. And I’ve spent every single day since then wishing I could take it back. But I can’t, Y/N. I can’t change what I did. All I can do is try to make it right, but you won’t let me.”

Tears blurred my vision as I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hold myself together. “You don’t get to just come back and act like everything’s fine. You left me, Matt. You broke me. And now you want me to forget all of that because you’re sorry? That’s not how it works.”

He stood abruptly, his chest heaving as he closed the space between us. “I’m not asking you to forget. I’m asking you to let me prove to you that I’m not the same guy who walked away. I’m asking you to give me a chance to fix this.”

I shook my head, a sob escaping my lips. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust you again.”

Matt’s face crumpled, and for the first time, I saw tears streaking down his cheeks. He reached out, hesitating before his hands landed gently on my shoulders. “Please,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please, Y/N. I don’t care if it takes years. I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as it takes because you’re it for me. You’ve always been it.”

His words broke something inside me, and before I could stop myself, I was crying harder, my hands clutching at his shirt as he pulled me into his arms. His sobs mixed with mine, and we stood there, holding onto each other like we were the only thing keeping the other from falling apart.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, The funny thing is I would have married you if you had stuck around.” I whispered into his chest.

“I’ll never stop trying.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @sturnsvelocity @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend

#matt sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #neighbor #sturniolo triplets

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joels-darlin · 26 days ago

Text

Flashbacks

Pairings: post-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader

Warnings: death, angst, hurt, sadness, mentions of blood, severe injuries, mentions of anxiety, mentions of panic attacks, nightmares, flashbacks, traumatic memories.

Summary: Flashback: An involuntary recurrent memory in which the individual has a sudden but powerful re-experiencing of a past event.

Joel’s body might be present but his mind never is, especially after the loss of his everything.

Word count: 1752

Author Note: Well I am back and yes it's with another sad one - sorry. This fic was quite the ride. What started out as a post-golf reader POV fic suddenly got turned on its head. One day my brain decided to go: “But what if the tables were turned and it was Joel on the other end”, then this was born.

Also, I have never done this before but if anyone wants an insight to what I listen to whist writing these types of fics see below, might make an angst playlist soon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Playlist: If Today Was Your Last Day - Nickelback Savin’ Me - Nickelback Through the Ghost - Shinedown If You Only Knew - Shinedown In The Stars - Benson Boone Life Goes On - Ed Sheeran (ft. Luke Combs) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thankyou all <3 Read on AO3!

The heat of the sun on Joel’s skin awoke him from a deep slumber, peeking it’s way into the room through that gap in the curtains. The one he had been meaning to fix for months. Groaning at the intrusion he shifted. Untangling his body from the sheets of what is now just his bed, sitting upright, a sharp tweaking sensation in his lower back crying out at the sudden movement. The night shift on Patrol was torture but as much as Joel hated doing it, it was the only way to avoid the nightmares that flooded his brain when he slept.

Taking a moment to compose he breathed in, sharpness of the icy January air biting at his nostrils, pushing slowly back out through his mouth, This is what his routine consisted of now, practicing the breathing exercises learnt from a book scavenged whilst out on Patrol. Mornings were not always like this. Joel let his mind wander back briefly to a just a few mere months ago. ~

The warm heat of the summer enveloped the room as you lay in a tangle of limbs under the sheets, head in spot that was most comfortable; the crook of Joel’s neck. Joel felt you lean in slightly pressing your cheek against the warm and soft skin there, you were clearly having a moment to take everything in. These were the moments you both enjoyed the most. Catching him off guard it was the softness of your lips on this skin peppering light kisses on any areas you could reach. He loved this. The actions making his whole body vibrate with a deep chuckle, moving his hands to caress over your skin with feather light touches. There was no other feeling in the world that could match it, the feeling of being happy and loved. Something he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. This was home for the next few hours. The two of you completely spent, losing count of how many times and the various ways he had made you come undone in the small hours of the morning. ~

Joel regrets swapping patrol shifts with you that day, all because he had come down with the flu and needed some extra rest - he was old now these illnesses took longer to recover from. But he swears everyday that he can still feel it on his skin; the faint touches of your last kiss, the tickle of your breath against his ear. Unknowing that would be the last ‘I love you’ to leave your soft lips. The sound of your voice was always like music to his ears.

But from the minute his eyes close and he succumbs to the darkness the film reel starts; like his own personal cinema. The nightmares more bad compared to good, it’s not very often he gets to relive the happy memories shared with you. One particular memory has been kicking around in his dreams for the last few days. ~

Joel was confused when he woke, taking a minute to survey the surroundings. He was still in bed, the migraine now gone but the flu-ish like symptoms still knocking around; leaving his chest heavy and his nose still clogged like a few hours ago. Except this time there was an extra symptom, a swirling pit in his stomach. Straightaway he knew this wasn’t nausea related to his current condition, it was different, something felt very wrong. He had suffered with anxiety before after he lost Sarah. This felt…similar. The booming sound of banging on his front door stopped the thoughts in their tracks, the glass of the windows in his bedroom vibrating slightly at the force. Whoever was at the door wanted his attention and now. He was still dressed in his grey plaid pyjamas bottoms and worn nightshirt as he jumped out of bed, forgoing his slippers and heading barefoot downstairs to the commotion. Joel recognised the voice on the other side; his brother Tommy.

What was he doing back from patrol so early?

“JOEL…” Tommy’s voice bellowed through the thickness of the wooden door “…open this door NOW”

His hand made contact with the cool metal of the handle, yanking it open with force, nearly knocking himself over the in the process. Only to be greeted by his stricken, pale looking younger brother over the other side of the threshold.

It was quiet for a few moments; like both brothers had no idea what to say. Eyes locked on each other, sounds of the birds chirping in the distance and Tommy’s heavy breathing - he had clearly run here.

“Joel…its….” ”Spit it out Tommy”

What he wasn’t prepared for was the whisper of your name leaving his brothers lips, heart leaping out of his chest at the sound.

The sight that greeted him in the Medical Centre was one that will live in him forever; deeply woven into every fibre of his being. Your lifeless body on the metal table. Clothes torn to shreds, any patches of skin peeking through littered with a mixture of deep purple bruises. He left the worst til last - your face. Once beautiful and so full of life; now unrecognisable. They had beaten you to death. A mixture of anger and sadness bubbling up in his chest and all he could do was drop to his knees and sob, your cold, swollen hand intertwined with his. He wasn’t there to protect you.

Joel doesn’t remember leaving that room. He just knows he didn’t want to. But all he remembers is waking up in in bed the next day. Eyes landing on the empty space on the other side; all the memories coming flooding back in a instant, like a knife to the heart. ~

The house is eerily quiet, creaking of Joel’s bare feet against the old wood echoing off the cracked walls with each step as he heads down the stairs.

Jackson was a place he now considered home, nothing like the home back in Austin, but you made it home for him. It’s the place you had met and started planning a life together - even with the circumstances. From the moment he laid eyes on you across the commune there was something special about you. Any room you entered you brought the sunshine with you - your smile and positivity bouncing off every surface like a beam of light. Except now that he had lost you the four walls of home now felt dark and vacant.

Coffee was something you had both shared a love for. Often scavenging peculiar trinkets or necessities whilst out on patrol that you could trade at the market for the best coffee beans Jackson offered. On the off days from patrol Joel would often wake to the aroma of freshly ground beans wafting through the house. In the kitchen a fresh pot of filtered coffee on the side waiting, his mug neatly placed next to it. An that’s where he was headed right now, straight to what you used to refer to as the ‘the coffee shop’ - it was a running joke between you both.

Except this morning he opened the cupboard to find your favourite mug staring right back at him; he doesn’t remember leaving it there. It was the one he had scavenged whilst out doing one of the trails with Tommy. The early days, when the two of you had not long admitted feelings for each other after months of yearning and pining. He knew your birthday was coming up and wanted a special gift. Then he found the mug, buried at the back of one of the cupboards of a random cabin they had discovered just south of the checkpoint. Joel knew the moment he laid eyes on it that you would love it. The white porcelain mug, chipped and scratched in places but well loved, two giraffes embezzled on the front. Your favourite animal. It stayed in his house, taking place right next to his owl mug. Which not long after became your home also.

Joel was leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand, his eyes glancing briefly over to the small circular table & chairs in the centre of the room. The memories of those mornings together coming flooding back. ~

These were the moments Joel cherished the most; when it was just the two of you.

Summer mornings spent at the kitchen table sat across from each other, windows wide open, enjoying the light breeze flowing into the room. Watching as you lift the mug of steaming hot coffee to your lips, parting them slightly to take the first sip of ‘nectar’ - you had always called coffee that, for as long as Joel can remember. He can never help the small smile spreading across his lips, something that just happens when with you. A feeble attempt at trying to cover it up by taking a sip from his own mug. It was too late you had caught him, flashing a toothy grin from across the table. God he loved you.

Then the cold Winter months came, opting for the comfort of the couch over the table. Joel remembers being frozen to the bone, eager to shower and slip into the warmth of bed. But as he crossed the threshold the sight that greeted him was one he couldn’t ignore. There you were perched on the claimed side of the couch; coffee mug in one hand, book in the other. Clearly engaged in whatever was on the page - knowing your terrible taste in books probably some soppy romance again. No words needed to be exchanged, just a small smile at each other as he slipped into the seat next to you. Forgoing the choice of coffee after a long patrol nightshift. He was happy here just being in your presence. Like his own personal brand of caffeine. ~

A chirping of birds in the garden brings Joel back to the present. Lifting his free hand to rub his temples, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. Sometimes the memories are so vivid he swears you are still here.

Draining the last of his coffee and turning to throw the cup in the sink with a loud clang - making a mental note to deal with that later. Joel grabbed his backpack off the hook, heading out the front door in search of Tommy - he would have some useless job for him to do. Today he needed distractions, the storm was incoming and fast. It was only a matter of time.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel the last of us #joel miller fic

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gothic-aesthetic-gal · 3 days ago

Text

Old Scars (Part 15)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. This chapter's pretty soft actually, no violence for once 😂 Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

Chapter 15 -

The next thing I was aware of was somebody else entering the room, though some time later. Their footsteps rounded the bed to the side I was curled up on and the sudden intrusion of the sound woke me up with a jolt. I looked up to see the familiar tall figure of a man in dress pants and a dishevelled shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked recently showered; his hair was still wet and his bare face still had some traces of shaving foam on it. He clumsily replaced the errant strap of his suspenders as they slid off of his shoulder and crouched down beside me. As I realised who he was, I struggled to untangle the knotted threads of reality and the dream.

"Hello there," he said, with a voice like dry leaves on asphalt.

"I saw you," I murmured shakily.

He sat down beside me on the bed with a hum which suggested he was intrigued.

"And you were afraid."

I pulled myself upright so that I was seated with my legs crossed, and much to my alarm quickly realised how few clothes I was wearing. I hurriedly clutched the bedsheets to me, feeling very exposed but trying (and failing) to play it off like I wasn't. Oh god, there was no way the pair of them hadn't already seen too much.

"Afraid of you? A little, yes, but everything in that place was terrifying. You were just part of the landscape," I said as nonchalantly as I could.

He seemed a little surprised by my candid answer and highly amused by my attempt to preserve some kind of modesty. He handed me a cold glass of water with a tablet fizzing away inside it.

"Drink that."

"What is it?"

"Just drink it."

I sighed, for once not having the energy to argue and began to sip it quickly, not liking the taste. When it was half empty, I put it on the bedside dresser. He stayed sat beside me, fingers pressed together into a steeple as he seemed to drift somewhere far away in his mind. I watched the muscles and tendons of his forearms flex as his fingers moved in repetetive shapes.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I asked in my hoarse voice, recalling that he had used this particular turn of phrase on me before.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards in the faintest hint of a smile, recognition of how i'd passed his own words back to him. He didn't share, of course. He never liked to show his hand, no matter what game we were playing.

"What happened to me?" I asked instead.

"You don't remember your little, uh, scuffle with the Russian?"

"Don't be difficult, you know what I mean. What did he stick me with?" I grumbled.

He turned to look me up and down, measuring the depth of my frustration and finding it to be fairly shallow.

"A kind of fear toxin, courtesy of disgraced Arkham psychiatrist Jonathan Crane. I hear it's causing all sorts of trouble in the Narrows since the dealers got hold of it."

"Why would that ever be sold as a recreational drug?" I scoffed in disbelief.

"To be fair," he said, flicking his tongue against his lower lip, "I think it's deliberately mis-sold."

"False advertising," I echoed as I wondered if he'd always had such an unusual tic, or if he'd developed it over time. I still found it unnerving.

"Yes. Maybe he wants to hold people to ransom and grind out a little profit selling the antidote," J added.

"You think that's Crane's M.O.?" I asked.

His tongue clicked against his teeth as he let out a kind of exasperated sigh.

"How should I know? He's crazy."

I failed to stifle a grin at the irony of such a dismissal coming from him, of all people.

"What's so amusing to you?" He asked, his voice slithering back into a slightly more sinister register.

His face took on a serious expression and he flexed his jaw. I realised I might be treading dangerous ground.

"I just find it a little hypocritical. I bet people call you crazy too," I answered earnestly, not wanting his unpredicatable moods to mold my own behaviour.

"I'm not crazy. I'm not," he muttered, though whether he was talking to himself or me was unclear.

"I didn't say you were -".

"Ah but you were thinking it. You were about to," he pointed a finger in my direction as his eyes narrowed.

"I only meant that people would say it, I've no idea whether you actually are. Besides, I wouldn't know what counts as crazy anymore, not after that bad trip," I muttered with a roll of my eyes.

He seemed to ease off a little.

"So how long was I out?" I changed track.

He paused, like he was at an intersection deciding whether to follow me down this new road in conversation, eventually he did.

"A couple of days. We got the antitoxin in you within three hours but you had a highly concentrated dose."

I thought about what the whole syringe might have done to me. Vladislav had clearly meant to kill me, or drive me permanently out of my mind. I shuddered just as Tony reappeared with a bundle of clothes in hand and my duffle bag.

"Here, I washed these for you."

There was something so unexpected about this enormous, fierce man, handing me my clothes like a mother getting a child ready for school. He set down the bag and clothes on the unoccupied side of the bed

"You can go now, I'll call when I need you. You know the drill by now," J said, tossing him a set of jangling keys.

I wondered how long Tony had been away from his family, and tried to remember what having people waiting at home for you felt like. I heard his footsteps fade, a door open and close, and finally, the rumble of a car engine as it pulled away. In his absence, the silence that fell over us was deafening.

"What happened to them?" I finally asked in my desperation to end the quiet.

"Are you sure you'd like to know that?" J asked, his tone dancing between seriousness and playfulness.

"Nicky shot Trigger, and you shot Nicky, but what happened to Vlad?"

Even without the paint, I watched a growing darkness twist the features of the man beside me. I hurriedly turned my eyes away from his face, instead settling on the peeling yellow wall paper in the corner of the room.

"I wasn't sure what to do with him at first. I considered killing him, but he just seemed to go deeper and deeper into madness. It was fascinating to watch."

Unable to stop myself, I turned back towards him, and watched the growing fire in his eyes as he spoke; he was becoming increasingly animated with each word.

"Tony dropped him downtown. Most likely he'll be picked up and carted off to Arkham. His fate is an excellent warning against any of the other men who might be tempted back into Maroni's deep pockets."

"He's stuck in a living nightmare. Yeah, I'd heed that warning," I said dryly.

"Exactly! This is so much better than just shooting him and dumping him in the harbour: the mob are desensetised to that. It's basically a regular tuesday for them, but this? No, no, this is much more of a powerful threat..."

His piercing gaze met my own.

"Still, I suppose you disapprove..." he said with a smirk.

"Are you kidding me? He tried to kill me and nearly had me stuck in some kind of endless hell."

I laughed a little at the idea I was going to be reproachful and I had his intensely undivided attention as I continued:

"It's satisfying to know that he's stuck like that. He set those wheels in motion. Let him suffer like I did."

He made a kind of sound under his breath, like he was pleased with my outburst and I moved to drink the rest of the water, still clutching the blankets to my chest. I still felt like I was nursing the worst hangover of my entire life, like I'd suffered an electric shock. One time I had forgot to unplug the toaster when I was cleaning it with a damp cloth and it felt like someone tied a housebrick with a string connected to each of my fingers and thrown it off of a cliff. The way all of my muscles had snapped taught and suddenly cramped - it was one of the worst pains I had ever experienced. This felt like that but all over, somehow worse. I grasped a tshirt from the fresh pile, and looked pointedly at him.

When he didn't move, I was forced to use words.

"Turn around already," I grumbled.

Both his eyebrows pulled up into a knowing look as he laughed.

"I hate to break it to you doll, but you tore off your clothes whilst screaming like a banshee yesterday evening. It might be a little late for that."

My cheeks flushed red as I felt the sting of embarasment. Still I hurriedly stuffed the t-shirt over my head and pulled it on the moment he made a big scene of turning to face the wall for me.

"You can turn back," I groaned and laid my head back down against the cool pillow, feeling terrible.

The next time I woke up, J was sat on the empty side of the bed, his long legs out in front of him, crossed at the ankle and he was holding out a plate. His face paint had reappeared by now and he wordlessly gestured for me to take the food he'd brought. I sluggishly propped myself up enough to take one, and instead he forcibly shoved the plate into my hands.

"You need to eat these," he said sternly.

Wordlessly and methodically I worked my way through the crackers as he watched me intently. They had a layer of peanut butter and jelly haphazardly slapped on top of them, I assumed for the purpose of giving me some sugar intake.

"It's a good thing i'm not allergic to peanuts, huh? Did you think of that?" I jabbed an elbow into his ribs playfully, somehow forgetting the many reasons not to do that kind of thing.

He looked baffled, which made me laugh a little.

"What's so funny?" He said sounding almost hurt.

"Your face; you just looked so confused."

"People don't tend to touch me," he muttered, rattling over the t sounds..

"Yeah, well people will give you a wide berth if you go around blowing up half the city. Who'd have guessed?" I rolled my eyes.

Suddenly, he produced something from his pocket. It was a brilliant red apple, almost as vibrant as his painted smile. He rubbed it against his waistcoat as though he was polishing it. I watched him quizically as he took a bite and then tossed it into my lap. He had a maddening habit of chewing without properly closing his mouth which immediately made my skin crawl.

"What?" He asked, spotting my change in body language.

I gently put my hand over his mouth.

"Don't you have any manners?" I said as playfully as I could manage.

His eyes locked with my own and he slowly pulled my hand down.

"Define manners... I find that most of them are a waste of time. An unwritten social contract we're all just dragged into."

"Yes, but -" I tried to argue. He cut me off.

"Do you know, what happens if you get lacerations from here, to here? He asked, following the red line of paint which almost went from ear to ear.

"No," I answered, anxiety rising in my chest.

"Well, about here, is something called the parotid duct. It's basically the tube that carries your saliva, from where it is produced further back, into your mouth. If that gets cut, a surgeon will have to try reconstructing it. Even if they are successful, you'll probably have issues with it for life."

He gestured to a point on his cheek about two thirds of the way from his mouth to his ear, right at the top of his longer scar. Instantly, I realised what an asshat I had been and felt a burning shame spreading throughout my body.

"Not to mention, there's all kinds of nerves in here..." he pressed further, tracing the forked outline of some of them against my cheek with a finger.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think -"

He waved a hand to shut me up, but I ignored him.

"No, I am. That was me being a prick. I of all people should have thought about that."

He placed a finger to my lips in a shushing motion and my words finally came to a halt.

"Don't waste your time, doll. I don't care. Not about manners and not about what you just said." He said, nodding his head affirmatively in a frantic way.

I was sure that I felt a rogue tear slip out and roll down my cheek, despite my attempts to suppress the overwhelming feeling of regret that was welling up inside me. How had I missed the obvious and said something so careless, like so many people had done to me? Before I could wipe it away, he spotted it and pulled his body closer to mine. He cupped my face in his hands with a look of childlike fascination in his features.

"What's this, a tear? For me?" He mused.

I tried to turn my head away, but he tightened his grip in resistance against me. I was then suddenly afraid of what he would do next. He swept the tear away with his thumb and released me from his grasp. Not knowing what had taken over me, I folded my arms around his waist and I laid back down.

He remained sat with his back to the headboard, and surprisingly didn't try to remove my clinging grasp on him as he stayed uncharacteristically still. I felt him rest a hand against the side of my face. Normally I would have recoiled even at the idea of anyone touching my broken skin, but there was something about his touch that felt like it was white hot and purifying. It was the opposite to the feeling of disgust and corruption that my attacker in the alley had left lingering on me.

"Sometimes, when its about to rain, espescially if theres a storm coming, it feels like the plate in my head starts to vibrate."

"So they turned you into a human barometer? That's unfortunate..."

"I mean it's a pretty shit power, it fucking hurts, but I can tell you if it's about to rain really heavily," I smiled weakly.

I felt his hand smooth the hair over the location of my titanium plate.

"You know, I applied for a specialist plastic surgeon to help me heal better," I began, seeing an opportunity for a little dark humour; "to stop me looking like I lost a fight to someone wielding a cheese grater..."

I felt him chuckle at my ridiculous image which was at odds with the emotional weight of what I was sharing.

"but my insurance provider denied me everything except the most basic stitch-up and a permanent plate."

He gave a hum which indicated he was listening intently.

"I can't help thinking maybe I wouldn't have a lifetime of headaches if they hadn't put the cheapest thing possible in there. And, of course, the scars could have been much less noticeable," I sighed, running my hand over the valleys and ridges travelling down from my temple.

"The whole system - It's a bad joke," he muttered.

I nodded with a sigh.

"But it will never change. It's so utterly depressing. I hate it."

I felt his fingers clumsily tracing over my face again.

"We live in a cruel world, it's true."

"Are you wondering how it happened?" I whispered.

"No. The past is the past. When you live in the world we do, the only way to stay sane is to live in the present."

A smile crept its way onto my face.

"If you'd asked, I would've lied to you any way. Even to you, I wouldn't give that away," I admitted, looking up at his face.

He seemed struck by this, looking down at me with a renewed kind of fascination.

"What?"

"Nothing," he answered, patting me on the head.

Unlike him, my thoughts drifted to the future. Whatever this was could not end well: It couldn't last. Reality was always chasing me down.

"Lie to me," I said suddenly.

"What?"

"Tell me we have a future, that there's hope. That whatever this is between us, it will all be okay."

"Doll, you know that's really not -" he began with a sigh and shifted within my grasp.

"It doesn't have to be convincing. I just need to hear the words."

He was silent for a while, as I waited to see if he would do what I'd asked. He sighed and grumbled under his breath as he turned closer to me.

"We can leave all of this behind us. We'll run off into the sunset and live happily ever after. No more batman, no more Gotham city, no more police. I'll take you to the mountains - or are you the sort of girl who prefers the ocean? We can do both, all that greenery, and you can swim in the water."

It didn't matter that I knew the words were empty, or that he himself sounded utterly unconvinced. I picked up the apple, which had already started to brown where the missing piece was, and ate some of it myself. It was surprisingly sweet and crisp. I let my eyes drift closed and fashioned myself a strange sort of Eden in my imagination. I found myself falling back into the dance we had been locked in when I was under Crane's toxin. I was so tired.

I had nearly died a second time, and like the first, it had changed me in ways I didn't yet know...

Link to the masterlist for other chapters:

Tag list:

If I forgot anyone or you want to be removed from the tag list - please let me know! 💕

@dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd

@dance-like-a-clown

@furisodespirit

@heath-ledger-jokers-wife

@sunfyrejoker

@lightsabergirl

@clowning--around

@ruby-da-archangel

@harleenqvinn

@helchronicles

@ostricx

@knoepfl

@jumpingjellyfishhaha

@nicklet94

Dividers by @strangergraphics ✨️

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monstersinthecosmos · 7 months ago

Note

Do you think Marius still loves Armand in the last books? Does he want Armand to return to him? Marius seemed to have left him in the past

The short answer is YEAH OF COUSRE HE LOVES ARMAND TO DEATH but let’s talk about this for a minute!

The question of whether or not Marius loves him is the easier one to answer. Armand is one of the great loves of Marius’s life! In the beginning of TVA (when he’s just spent however much time thinking Armand is dead) he’s a DISHEVELED MESS! And at the beginning of B&G he’s super lonely and isolated and seems worried about stuff he’s done recently and people in his life being mad at him. (Benji & Sybelle Incident? Something else?) I think when you look at a vampire like Marius, it’s remarkable that he makes it 2000 years only turning THREE fledglings (not counting when we get to B+S and Viktor bc that gets into like, vampire favors and isn’t really for himself LOL), vs a character like Lestat who made 3 fledglings in his first 11 years. These are the great loves of Marius’s life and not decisions he made lightly! And while I think we can (and have) sort of untangled selfish vs. selfless love in Marius’s life, I think it’s really important that 500 years later he couldn’t forgive Santino. Is that on his own behalf alone or on Armand’s? There’s a lot of unpack but! He loves Armand! He does!!!!!

But anyway on the topic of returning to each other;

I think their last conversation in BCtu sort of opens a door that they’re going to speak to each and work things out. Canonically, that’s all the information we get. We also never explicitly get information about like, what exactly is wrong between them presently. We know that

they had a big fight at the end of TVA but that they calmed down

Armand has been afraid of Marius because he's scared that Marius doesn't still love him like he used to

in ROA Marius said he had the savage & ignorant soul of a child.

I always assume there's just 500 years of tension and conversations they've avoided, but we also never get a confirmation that they HAVEN'T had these conversations off screen anyway. So canonically, all we know is that they just had a traumatic experience and want to talk to each other.

Also canonically, they’re making another attempt at Vampire Commune and we don’t have an answer of like, will it stick this time, will it dissolve like Night Island, is it sustainable AT ALL to have a small group of the elite making rules and holding dominion over an entire culture???????? Reader’s choice lol.

But it leaves a question of like, what does returning to each other look like in this setup—they’re in touch now, they can find each other, they have cell phones, Armand can come and go at the Château as needed, Marius has a room at Trinity Gate, etc. Their relationship is civil and functional at this point. And does “returning” mean to be exclusive companions and to fuck off? Will Marius leave Court? Will Armand come and stay more often? Idk !

These are questions that have 100 different answers because it’s all headcanon, but, what we know by the end of the series is that they’ve gone through something traumatic and Armand and Marius are going to talk to each other. What is that conversation about? What is the result? We don’t know. Armand is letting his FEELINGS THE FUCK OUT in this book as if he's had therapy, and Marius says he thinks Armand is ready to open his heart, if that gives us any clues! But does opening his heart mean "I am feeling vulnerable and brave to tell you how I feel because I almost lost you" or "I'm gonna read you the fuckin riot act because I did that to Lestat as well" ? lol Either way the thing here is that it's ARMAND'S decision and not about whether or not Marius left him in the past.

I think something that often goes overlooked in character discussions is their inherent inhumanity, and I really dislike the “thEyRe MonStErs” easy out of a lot of analyses, because it’s more than that. The entire purpose of the series and the reason the series was unique is that built a world where they’re MORE THAN. It’s not about simply being a monster—there’s nothing simple about it. And not being human doesn’t mean it’s all negative and all evil. What it means is that it’s Extra. They feel things on such a deeper level than we do, their brains function differently, and they’re immortal. They have all the time in the world to forgive each other when they want to, and they’re social creatures who want companions! The older you are, the scarier it is! It’s horror! Like even Marius’s relationship with Mael is so fucking special because like, as much as they put each other off, it’s like, someone they each still have, that’s been constant, and the world would look so different without them.

It just reminded me of this line in Six Feet Under (sorry I’m obsessed, I think everything always comes back to SFU for me LOL) but when Brenda says she used to think as she got older that she’d have more people in her life and that the opposite was true. So anyway for Marius like, regardless of if we want to get into selfish/selfless, Armand is one of the most important people in his life, and has been around for a quarter of Marius’s life, and nothing would be the same if Armand wasn’t around.

And without the distraction of The Parents in the modern age I wonder if he’s like especially fragile and traumatized about losing people? Is he still traumatized by losing Pandora? And losing Armand the first time? It’s great that they have cell phones and a community now so no one gets too far from each other, but gosh.

I don’t know what returning to each other looks like, as far as where canon left. Like, does the Château collapse? Is Daniel with them? Asking if Marius wants it is like, yeah maybe he would want Armand around Court more for moral support. And maybe if he decides to step away, and get space, maybe he would want Armand there with him as a safe place to land. When the Court inevitably collapses, will he want someone around?

In the past, Marius tended to isolate himself in times of stress; is he still like that? Has the loss of The Parents changed this for him? Will Daniel and Armand allow him to isolate? Idk ! !!!

But anyway sorry I’m rambling but my point about not being human and about being Extra is that there are a lot of parts in the series where vampires have a relationship or forgive each other even after they’ve deeply hurt each other or committed atrocities. Louis and Armand come to mind, so do Louis and Lestat, David and Lestat, Pandora and Santino. Even Marius calming down enough to be in his situationship with Avicus and sorta metamour to Mael. They are not human, they are capable of forgiveness. There are atrocities that humans are capable of never forgiving because we don’t have time to get over it. How can we even know how much time it takes to heal a grudge if we don’t live long enough to test it?

Even knowing that, 500 years still wasn’t enough to forgive Santino for what he did to them. Like sure if we wanna dunk on Marius and remind ourselves that he’s an arrogant self-centered jerk sometimes, and we could say that he’s mad at Santino for what he did to MARIUS—it’s not just the ego this time. He took Armand. He separated Marius and Armand. He destroyed their home. And even if they cooperated a few times in the 20th century, by the time B&G happens, he's been able to read TVA and knows what happened, what Santino did to him, what he did to the boys. (Like, did Marius read TVA? Did Armand ever tell him this privately? We don't know! But we do know that this is now been published for EVERYONE to read which is probably re-traumatizing for everyone involved and now everyone knows hajkgsdl)

So anyway, like. I know this has kinda been a non-answer because we’re talking about stuff that didn’t happen in canon and everything past BCtu is going to be our own headcanons. But I can say: Yes, Marius loves Armand deeply, and vampires are capable of incredible levels of empathy and forgiveness for each other, because their lives are too long and bleak and painful not to.

As to the idea that Marius left him in the past, personally I don’t agree!

Marius not rescuing Armand from the cult is often misunderstood in fandom, but I could see why someone would point to that as a clue that Marius has left him in the past. It’s not that simple, though. Marius is too injured to save him, doesn’t even know if he’s alive, and by the time he finally finds Armand he finds the cult situation too complicated to navigate. Don’t forget that Marius has pretty severe religious trauma, and is one of the characters who was turned against his will. By a cult!!! So to see Armand thriving with a cult is so triggering and disappointing, and I don’t think he’s strong enough to risk being rejected if he goes to rescue Armand only to learn he no longer wishes to be rescued.

I would say that’s very unlike leaving him in the past, it’s more like seeing him as another one that got away.

And then when they reunite in QOTD it’s during another extremely traumatic event in Marius’s life—we don’t know details about how everyone left Night Island or where everyone went, but what we DO know is that Marius lost The Parents—>Armand attempts suicide about a decade later—>Marius commits the big B+S Fuckup shortly after learning Armand is okay—>Marius fucks off to Scandinavia with Daniel to lick his wounds because everyone’s mad at him.

VC skips around a LOT, and there’s so much that we don’t learn about, so much that happens between books and off screen. Like, we don’t KNOW how Marius wound up with Daniel. We don’t know exactly how much longer he stuck around in New Orleans after TVA, we don’t know what he and Armand were gonna talk about in BCtu before the series ended. And that’s the enD oF IT THERE’S NOTHING ELSE!

Marius truly doesn’t leave anything in the past, that’s the thing about him.

He’s still traumatized by the way he was turned. He still tries to sculpt his identity around what his life was as a Roman. He committed to the burden of The Parents for 2000 years, even when he was overwhelmed and wished he could stop. He spends centuries painting Pandora’s face over and over and over when he can’t find her. He still thinks Mael is a bumbling redneck from the woods. He still wanted Santino killed, even when they’d been civil with each other in QOTD and up to TVA.

And in BCtu when he’s living at Court he’s like, trying to embrace himself, allowing himself to be a weirdo because he’s around his own kind now. HE QUITS PANTS, YOU KNOW WHAT? HE ALWAYS HATED PANTS, LET’S NOT.

I think even as humans there are so many things that shape us forever, that we never really move past. Even when we leave something in the past, it shapes us, it allows us to leave it in the past. People and events in our lives carve into us, whether we like it or not!!! And part of the horror of immortality is that it goes on, and on, and on, and on, your physical body gets hard and cold and monstrous, more and more uncanny, physically impervious, but their BRAINS AND HEARTS ARE STILL TENDER!!

So no, no, I really don’t think Marius ever left Armand in the past. I think he left him to the cult because he thought Armand wanted it, I also think he gave Armand space after a disastrous fuckup. When he goes to speak to him at the end, he says it like ARMAND is the one that’s ready. He’s waiting for Armand! Marius was there the whole time, ready to be called upon if someone needs him! He lives to serve!

Armand was his baby and one of the great loves of his life, the first (and only) fledgling he made because he truly wanted to. Marius loves him so much!!!

#it's 1am i guess ill go to sleep worrying about this #marius de romanus #armand #marius/armand #blood & gold #the vampire armand #blood communion #vampire chronicles #deep ass thoughts about vampires

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i-heart-hxh · 11 months ago

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So, I was reading that ask about why Killua pushed Gon away in chapter 231, and the part where you said, 'It’s actually part of a larger pattern we see with Killua’s behavior towards Gon, where he decides to “protect” him by leaving him out of things and not giving him the full context of what’s happening,' really made so much sense to me for other moments between them! Do you think there's a connection to why Killua leaves in the end and doesn't tell Gon the full extent of what had hurt him?

+ in addition to my ask about that chapter (you can paste them together! character limit), I wonder if this behavior plays a role in how short and abrupt the separation was. Maybe it was time to let each other go for a while because Killua still don't know how to deliver the full context of his broken heart to Gon, and Gon knows better than push him to say it as he's still processing what he did and doesn't feel worthy of Killua's presence (Gon has never had a huge self-esteem to begin with)

Hello anon! Thank you for the thought-provoking messages--I love having conversations with people about the specifics of what happened between Gon and Killua because there's just so much to unpack there. Even after all the years I've spent in this fandom I still feel like there's always more to untangle.

Also, anon is referencing this post.

Killua sometimes hides things from Gon to protect him from other people or situations (or, in many cases, how he thinks Gon will react to those people/situations)--but he also hides things from Gon about his own internal thoughts and feelings for a few reasons that all blend into each other.

Most simply, Killua's upbringing actively tried to get him to suppress his feelings. While of course this failed to a certain degree, being raised in an environment where sharing feelings and even having feelings was actively discouraged is not an easy thing to unravel. This makes it exceptionally difficult for him to share his deep feelings and vulnerabilities and directly express his love--aside from in acts of service, which seems to be the only acceptable Zoldyck love language, essentially. He was always appreciated at home for what he did and not who he is, which is why he gets so flustered when Gon compliments him simply for being himself.

As the series goes on, Killua is increasingly fearful (as a result of the situations with Kite and Palm and not winning against Shoot due to the needle) that he'll lose his place at Gon's side or that Gon will confirm that Killua isn't as important to him as Gon is to him, so that makes it difficult for Killua to take any risks as far as how vulnerable he is with Gon. Because so much of his self-esteem hinges on how useful he is to Gon, the thought of being pushed away is terrifying to him. This makes his courage in standing up to Gon when Gon confronted Pitou exceptionally meaningful, and especially when his worst fears play out as a result--Gon does actually push him away, and then tries to throw his own life away as penance for what happened to Kite.

Killua views himself to a certain degree as essentially the shadow to Gon's light. Killua isn't even sure he deserves to be with Gon. He sees himself as someone who has been tainted by his upbringing, by his history of running from difficult opponents, etc. So, he thinks he needs to protect Gon in not just a literal sense but also a metaphorical sense--to make sure Gon doesn't end up like him. He knows Gon isn't "normal" either, but he sees Gon as someone who can lead him out of the darkness into living a more normal life, like he wants. But in order for this dynamic to continue, Killua puts himself in a role where he has to keep Gon from being tainted by the world, and also to a certain degree, from being tainted by himself and what he's been through. Of course, Gon's mental state ends up falling apart regardless with what happens and Killua is forced to confront that Gon isn't a pure being of light, but another traumatized boy who ended up in situations he couldn't handle. Killua feels partly responsible for what happened to Gon as well, because he fled from Kite with Gon, and because he couldn't change Gon's self-destructive course.

I absolutely think these tendencies play into why they have to separate, and why the separation is so brief. I don't think Killua is ready to open up and tell Gon the full extent of how he feels and how much both seeing Gon self-destruct and being pushed away hurt him. Even though Gon survived because of Nanika, Killua essentially watched him commit suicide. Of course he needs time to process that. Plus there are external factors that make the separation necessary (Alluka/Nanika, Illumi pursuing them). This post is important reading on the separation, as it affected my view of what happened between them.

Gon knows he hurt Killua deeply, and like you said I don't think he wants to push Killua into talking more about it after what happened. I'm sure they had some sort of conversation between Gon waking up and their parting that we didn't see, but I doubt it was a conversation where they delved deeply into the issues between them. I think Gon likely apologized, forcefully and wholeheartedly, but not in a way that had a complete enough understanding of what happened/what hurt Killua for it to be what they need.

It always boils down to the two of them loving each other but essentially feeling they don't deserve the other due to their own self-esteem issues.

I also think it was brief out of necessity--they didn't want to leave each other, clearly, so to drag it out risks them not being able to let each other go.

As I've said before, as much as the issues between them are deep, I have a lot of faith that they will end up reuniting and reconciling and having a better relationship in the future. The separation gives them both some space to think about what went wrong and why, and to figure out who they are individually and what kind of relationship they want to have in the future. They both need some time to mature and understand themselves better in order to reach that point.

Thank you for the asks!

#hxh #hunter x hunter #gon #killua #killugon #gonkillu #meta #asks #anonymous #long post #my posts #chimera ant arc #separation meta

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chapel-of-rizztual · 1 year ago

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99, 115, & 136 w/ Raindrop? I think those would go together good🫠

Dew’s transition from water to fire had been traumatic. Everyone knew that. Everyone could see the fear that still burnt on his eyes, even months later, the scars on his body were still visibly raised and angry.

Dew was just starting to get back to his normal self when his heat hit, setting him back several steps. He locked himself in his room, not letting anyone in no matter how hard they tried to help him. It had been four days since anyone had actually seen him, the only sign he was still alive was the occasional whine and whimper that could be heard coming from his room and the smell of burnt marshmallows that floated through the filings den.

Which is why Rain was so surprised to find Dew at his bedroom door late in the evening. He was flustered, a sheen of sweat covering his entire body and he was flushed red from head to toe. The clothes he was wearing were soaked in sweat, his hair plasters to his forehead.

“Dew? What are doing here? Are you okay?”

Dew whimpers, falling in Rain.“H-hot. So hot.”

Rain hisses feeling the heat coming off Dew’s body. He was almost too hot to touch. “Is this normal for fire heats?”

Dew whines, clinging to Rain even more. “I don’t know, first one as fire.” He looks at up at Rain with panic in his eyes. “I don’t know what to do.” Rain pulls him into his room. “Then let me teach you.”

“But-but you’re not fire. How will- how can you help.” Dew looks up at him with confusion written all over his face.

“Maybe not. But I’ve helped Iffy through his heat before, I know a little how to help.” Dew groans, his hips rolling onto Rain’s thigh.“Please, please help.”

Rain presses a kiss to the top of his head, right between his horns. “I’ve got you, my love, I’ll help. Take the rest of your clothes off and get on the bed.”

Dew shifts, suddenly looking nervous. He tugged on the neckline of his T-shirt, not meeting Rain’s eyes. Rain runs his fingers through Dew’s damp hair, untangling some of the knots.

“Why so shy?”

“I just-I’ve change a lot since you last saw me.” Dew looks around nervously again. “I don’t- my gills…they’re gone? They’re just scars now.” He looks up at him with watery eyes. “I just- I don’t want you to think I’m ugly now.”

Rain feels his heart shattering at the fear in Dews’s face. “Oh, Honeydew. They could change you a thousand times and cover you in scars and you’ll still be the most beautiful ghoul to me.”

“You mean it?”

Rain leans down to capture Dew’s lips in his. “Of course I mean it, I love you.”

Dew whine again, leaving upwards to capture Rain in a messy kiss.

Rain kisses him back for a beat before pulling back and leaning his forehead against Dew’s.

“Go get on the bed. You can keep your clothes on if it makes you feel more comfortable. I can work around them.”

Dew looks shy again. “You promise you won’t judge?”

Rain makes a cross motion over his heart. “Cross my heart.”

Dew nods, looking a little more sure of himself as he heads towards the bed, stripping his T-shirt and boxers as he goes. Rain tries not to stare, he really does, but Dew was right. He had changed a lot. Where his gills once were ran four deep long scars on each side of his rip cage. They were dark and raised from his skin in jagged lines. There was more along his neck and Rain would guess on his fingers and toes where his is webbing once was. He turned his hand over looking at the webbing on his own fingers, something he’d taken for granted many times.

“Rain?” Dew calls for him from where he’s sat naked on his bed.

“Sorry.” Rain smiles at him. “Just admiring how pretty you are.”

Dew blushes deep red and picks at a lose thread on the bed sheet. “Shut up.”

Rain pounces on him, pushing him back and pinning him the bed below him. “Are you sure you want this?”

Dew whines, pushing his bet hard cock onto Rain’s stomach. “Please, please help. Need it so bad.”

Rain kisses him again, once on his lips them moves down to his neck, placing kiss to each scar there.

“So beautiful.”

He kisses down his body, to his collarbones, his chest, his nipples, which he gives each a little lick making Dew moan and buck his hips.

He gets to the scars on his ribs and thumbs over them, feeling the raised flesh under his skin for the first time. Dew shivers at the soft feeling, looking down at Rain with admiration in his eyes.

“Do they hurt?”

Dew shakes his head against the pillow. “No, they don’t hurt. Just look ugly.”

Rain makes a disapproving sound, pinching at Dew’s nipples in punishment making him hiss and roll his hips upwards.

Rain kisses along one of the scars. “Don’t say that. You’re perfect. You always will be.” Dew flushes even deeper red and hides his face behind his hands, shaking his head.

“Dont cover you’re face, i want to see you” Rain gently pulls Dew’s hands away from his face taking them in his.

“I want to see the look on your face when I tell you how beautiful you are over and over again, I want to see your face when I tell you how perfect you are and how amazing and wonderful you are.” He kisses the back of Dew’s hand. “I want to see your face when I fuck you, when I fuck that heat out of you, when I make you feel so good the only thing you’ll be capable of doing is screaming my name.” Rain licks at the bottom scar, letting it run between his forked tongue.

Dew cries out, tears welling in his eyes already, his cock throbbing between them. “R-rain. Please.”

Rain kisses him, right in the middle of his chest. “Don’t worry, once I’m done with you, you won’t even remember your own name.”

#I didn’t edit this so if you see some weird mistakes no you didn’t #thanks for the ask <3 #the band ghost #ficlet #ghost headcanons #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #anonymous #my writing

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komouri-official · 8 months ago

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my interpretation of Morph in X-Men: Evolution

Appearance

Now considering what they did with Rogue, (taking a southern farm girl and making her goth) I think they'd probably take a similar route with Morph. Kind of like e-boy vibes but not quite. His hair would be longer and messier than in the animated series, and probably have a faded red streak? He would of course have his signature jacket, a red shirt, dark grey jeans (rolled up so the boots are visible), black gloves and boots, and maybe a spiky bracelet. I also think he would give himself a red devil tail soley for the purpose of getting along with Nightcrawler. He would have purple eyeshadow (to reference his relationship with Sinister, which will be explained later.) His age would be 15-17.

Personality

He would have a similar personality to Nightcrawler. Kinda flirty, bouncing off the walls sometimes, etc. But he would also be snappy and a bit rude. An example could be Morph turning into Wolverine or using his claws. Wolverine would probably say "did I give you permission to do that?" And Morph would reply "Point in the direction I care 🙄" but then eventually stop because he's kind of scared of Wolverine. He's still a joker and would like to play pranks on the others. But he still has that signature mischievous ahh laugh so when he giggles after pranking someone the person he pranked would instantly know who did it. Rogue thinks his laugh is annoying and is NOT afraid to tell him.

Relationships

Rogue: Rogue thinks Morph is annoying. The laugh and the pranks he pulls constantly gets on her nerves. It kinda like a sibling relationship. Also when they first met Rogue thought he was Mystique and tied him to a chair.

Kitty: They are pookies fr. They are the gossip queens of high school and they eat chips together.😔

Nightcrawler: They get along pretty well! Nightcrawler instantly wanted to be his friend when he saw that Morph had a tail like his. One time they probably got their tails tangled and Cyclops said "well, guess we gotta cut them off" and it traumatized both of them. (they just untangled them dw) Nightcrawler forgets that Morph is a shapeshifter and can get rid of his tail at any time so when that happens he always goes "DID SCOTT CUT OFF YOUR TAIL??"

Cyclops: He cares about Morph, but gets tired of his shenanigans every once in a while. He feels that he sort of has to almost act like a parent to him sometimes.

Jean: Jean is worried about Morph. She's heard him sound like he was talking to someone but he never is. She's also noticed she's unable to talk to him telepathically.

Evan: He thinks Morph is chill. He can give Evan a good laugh every now and then and enjoys his company.

Storm: Storm doesn't like Morph all that much. She sees him as a troublemaker and thinks he's lazy during training.

Beast: Beast thinks Morph is funny, but he wishes he'd be more participative in group activities.

Xavier: The professor sees great potential within Morph, but he's worried about him. Xavier has caught Morph talking to himself several times alone in his room, and believes this has something to do with his lack of participation.

Wolverine: He thinks Morph is funny. He doesn't care all that much about what he participates in but he wishes he'd listen to him more often.

Background:

Morph made a deal with Sinister. In return for Sinister saving his sick mother, Sinister would become Morph's shadow and have control over him at all times. "If you don't do this I'll let your mother die" or "if you don't do this I'll consume your life force" etc etc. When Sinister is present, Morph shadow can be seen with glowing red eyes and a small glowing red diamond on the forehead. Sometimes when Sinister won't shut up, Morph will close the blinds to get rid of him (he can only be visible in environments when there's light, but his presence still remains at all times.) Sinister's final plan all leads up to betraying the X-Men and leaving them for dead. Once the task is complete, Sinister will leave his body alone. Morph didn't want to do this because he genuinely loved the other X-Men, but he knew he didn't have a choice. Of course eventually the X-Men get rid of Sinister a different way with like the power of friendship or something idk.

Additional things

-he can't shapeshift when he's (really) scared or panicked, so that's why he tries not to get overwhelmed. +When he gets spooked he wraps his tail around the closest person's wrist

-cant live without potato chips 😔

-loves video games but he always gets crushed by whoever he's playing against

-melts when tired or hot 🫠

-Shapeshifting takes energy-- the bigger or more complex the shape he takes the more energy it uses. The easiest things to turn into are other humans and small-medium sized animals.

#Morph #kevin sydney #x men evolution #X-Men #This genuinely took an hour help me

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maskedemerald · 5 months ago

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Weaving Webs CH9

Here is chapter nine of my Invisobang fic! Enjoy the hardest chapter to write and some Danny POV!

The wonderful @pricklenettle did some fantastic art that you'll see embedded through out the first half of the fic so if you haven't seen it go check out their blog now!

You can check out the fic here or on AO3!

If you like this consider dropping us both a follow!

Warnings: Body horror, manipulation, Spectra is her own content warning, Burns, Spider - for like 2 chapters then it goes away.

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Chapter Nine

Fizzt fizzt, the old screen crackled flickering with sparks of white in the black between his fingers. He chewed on its corners. Night, like night. He frowned, eyes cast towards the window. Blocked, hide, Mom said he had to hide. There was still light escaping through the gaps. Not night yet. He was bored. Night meant stars. Not that he could see. Hiding. Sneak a peek while everyone’s eyes were closed. He grumbled a bunch of crackles as he curled around Jazz before starting up a more constant rumbling. She crackled back. Better. Leaving soon. Miss having her.

He startled, loud chime. Door. Guests. Hide even more. Mom said. Worried about him. They’d take him. Take Jazz. Then he couldn’t keep safe. Jazz untangled herself from him. He whined and flickered out of sight.

Mom got there first. Guest? Unfamiliar voice. Sharp cold that stuck in his visor. There was something in his house. Looked human. Wasn’t.

“Dr Spectra? What are you doing here?” Jazz asked. Irritated. Fake.

“Oh you must be the school counselor?” Mom started.

“I’m here to check up on your brother. A wellness check considering how you yourself are doing.” False smile. False cheer. He agreed with Jazz, she was irritating.

“He’s fine.” Jazz replied, firm. Want gone.

“What Jazz means is Danny is fine but not really well enough for visitors.” Mom was more polite, worry.

“I would like to see that for myself.” She pushed her way into the house as if she had been let in.

“I’d rather you not!” Jazz snapped. “I’m not having you talk to him like you’ve been talking to me!”

“I don’t know what you mean. I’ve been helping you. You just don’t understand that.” she waved her off. Sour, liar.

“I think I understand very well.” growled Jazz, he almost expected a flicker.

“Maybe we should get the authorities involved if you are going to refuse me?”

“Ah there’s no need for that… I’m sure we can work something out. Another time though, really Danny isn’t ready for…” Mom tried.

“It is rather neglectful to refuse letting a traumatized child talk to a therapist.”

Red, rage. Snapped thread. “Like hell you’re a therapist!” Jazz snapped.

He was angry too. Head hurt, sharp cold stuck. Building. This one had hurt Jazz. That wasn’t allowed. But he had to hide. Hold it in. He had to hold back. He growled a low crackling growl. Sharp cold slipped out. Too loud, too obvious. A sharp hiss, like boiling water. It curled in the air, too slow to fade. The threat’s eyes fixed on him. No through him. Still invisible. Still hidden.

“Oh what was that?” She stepped forward.

Jazz grabbed her arm. “Nothing, just an incense burner.”

“You really are a terrible liar.” She smirked, pulling her arm free and knocking Jazz to the ground.

Not accident. Intentional. “Oh, oh no. I am sorry. Mr and Mrs Fenton. I am concerned your daughter might be smoking. Leaving a lit one like that is such a fire hazard.”

Jazz bubbled with anger. Fear, from his family. Satisfied feeling. Not his. Someone else consuming. No, those were his. She didn’t get to do that. He didn’t even get to do that. They didn’t like it. He stopped. Safe feelings only! Not allowed. Not human. Not like family. No need to hide. Need to defend his.

Danny charged as she held out a hand to help Jazz up. False. Pretend. Would hurt her again. He lunged between them, returning to visibility with a vicious crackling. Aura expanding. Defensive, protective, angry.

“Danny” Jazz hissed.

The intruder’s face cracked with a toothy grin. Dangerous. “So this is the dirty little secret that you’ve been hiding.” A feeling of victory. “How disgusting that you keep him around like that, no better than just parading his corpse around really.”

“How dare you!” Mom snapped, her body lowered. Tense. Ready. Attack intended.

“He’s more… he’s still here. It's not disgusting.” Jazz defended.

Her eyebrows raised. “Wait? You’re ghost hunters, are you really keeping the little ghost like a pet?” crackling laughter.

“Danno’s not a pet and we… we’re not hunters, not anymore. Right Mads!” Dad said.

“Ghost scientists then.” she waved her hand. “Maybe it was intentional? You have two children, it makes sense really. Kill one and then whala you have a ghost to study. Not like you need two.”

Anger, rage. “Never.” Dad growled.

“How dare you insinuate that.” Mom reached for her. Fast. Violent. Impact… no impact.

Her fist passed through. Not human

“You! You’re a ghost! That’s why you kept it cold,” Jazz said with a sharp woosh of air, gas. Shock, bitter, anger.

“Wow, you would think the child of ghost hunters would figure that out faster,” Spectra teased unfazed as pistols were turned on her, “Oh well I suppose there’s no more need to play nice.”

She shrugged and then her skin seemed to unravel, peeling away against the licking of black flames that ignited across her body. She seemed to expand. The room darkened. Shadows blending. No, she couldn’t do that. This was his house. His space. It should bend to him not her.

“Bertrand, feel free to join the fun.” she called out.

Another intruder faded in. Shorter, shifting. Leopard. Danny growled, he’d missed the second one.

“About time. I have been so bored.” He grinned as the dark swallowed him and the rest of the room. Leaving them only what Danny’s aura could fight off. He flared. Family shivered, he hated that.

Danny growled defensively at the dark behind them, tail swishing. Hovering close to his family. Green shot over his shoulders into nebulous dark. Too dark. Not night. No stars. Dark flames flickered and reached out snatching at Jazz’s legs. Would be easier if she didn’t have those. She still needed them. He snarled, pulling her away, snapping at the black. Was it edible? Could he deal with it that way? Smelt like batteries. He wasn’t allowed batteries. He held her close, guarding. Safe.

“You really think that little monster is a good thing to have around your still living daughter.” The voice echoed out of the dark. Laughing. Smug.

“Danno’s a Fenton! He won’t hurt her! He’s a good ghost!” Dad snapped back, right. Danny wouldn’t.

“He might be harmless now but it's only a matter of time.” The green coloured leopard that was Bertrand leapt from the shadows lunging at them. “Just look at Bertrand here. Look at me even” Dad’s shots went wide as he scrambled to dodge the ghost. Red eyes hung behind Mom and clawed hands reached out. Danny lunged, snapping, unwrapping from Jazz. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t. Bad. Couldn’t be in two places.

Hands pulled back. Mom shot blindly into the dark. He curled round her defensively. Too many to protect. Too many places to be.

“Pathetic, you aren’t really that good at this whole ghost hunting thing.” Spectra taunted from the shadows. “Missing someone?”

Danny whipped round. Mom, Dad… no Jazz. Jazz was gone. Stolen. He screeched. Or tried, it came out weirdly quiet. Just the phone speaker. She’d stolen the house.

“Give her back!” Dad started blasting wildly. Danny growled and bit at the shadows with glass teeth.

“Some parents you are. Letting your daughter get taken so easily” Bertrand taunted slipping out of the shadows.

“Back off! Give her back” Dad bellowed, blasting at the ghost.

Green seared and Bertrand snarled, leaping back into the shadow at the hit.

“And miss this tasty misery? Not happening.”

Danny resisted the urge to chase. He flitted between his parents, staying close and growling like grinding gears. He wanted to save Jazz but that would mean leaving someone unprotected. If he stuck close to Mom then Dad wasn’t safe. The same in reverse. He couldn’t stay near both. Not when the two in the shadows were driving them apart with attacks.

He was knocked from the air by Bertrand’s pounce. He struggled and bit at the ghost pinning him down. The green tasted like the green he was both allowed and not allowed.

“Speaking of tasty, this ones pretty fresh. It's been a while since we’ve had a new ghost.” Bertrand sniffed.

Mom blasted him off with a well aimed shot, “stay away from him.”

Danny bolted up, darting over to her. Clinging close. His head swiveled till he found Dad. Good, no one else had been stolen while he was distracted. He couldn’t let that happen again.

They kept being pushed back, up the stairs. Shots firing. Danny hated. Hated feeling helpless. Couldn’t grab. The intruders mostly were too quick to bite. Useless. Unable to fight. Mom’s blaster beeped.

“Jack? Please tell me you left some more weapons up here?” she asked. Urgent, hopeful.

He shook his head, “not with Danno, some in the ops center I think.”

“Then we need to get there.”

Mom made a break for the upstairs. Dad followed behind blasting. Danny hated being stuck in the middle. He wanted to help. To protect. The ladder dropped.

“Trying to escape? Honestly, what kind of parents are you, abandoning your daughter?”

“We’re not!” Jack snapped.

“Jack, don’t listen to her!” Mom yelled blasting where she hung on the ladder.

“Right, right. We’ll get the weapons and then rescue Jazzy.” He clambered up and Danny clung to him defensively while it was harder for him to protect himself.

Mom slammed down the hatch after them. Danny was comforted by the static fuzz from nearby speakers and the light. He didn’t flicker that. That would scare his family. Even with that comfort he didn’t leave the hatch. Floating back and forth as Mom and Dad rummaged for weapons. Batteries. Anything. He wanted to go after Jazz. Not wait. But wait was needed.

It took far too long for Danny’s liking. He was grumbling frustratedly by the time Mom reopened the hatch. A snowstorm of static background noise filling the ops center. The bottom of the ladder was completely lost in the dark. Mom shot a few testing blasts into the dark. Nothing shifted. Nothing reacted. He whined as she started down. Shot down after her. Curling round her and casting a small light. Not safe.

Dad stepped onto the ladder. Dark shifted. Danny panicked. Wrong. Mistake. Shouldn’t have left. The ops center went dark and clawed hands pulled him back with a yelp.

“Jack!” Mom blasted into the opening hoping to hit spectra.

“Woops there goes the oaf. Bet you think you’ve got a better chance without him. How heartless.”

“Shut up.” Maddie growled.

“You can’t really not think that. He was pulling you down. Loud, obnoxious and incompetent. Everyone knows you’re far more capable.”

“We’re a team.” She defended.

“And yet alone you could just leave.”

The dark vanished, pulling back like it was peeling from the walls. There was the stairs back to the living room, clear as day. There was a silence. Danny snarled. Trick, lie. Wouldn’t leave Jazz and Dad anyway. Mom kept her weapon drawn as she approached the stairs. The way to the lab was still wrapped in shadow. Danny clung close as they approached. One left he could still protect.

“Please don’t let them have taken them through the portal.” She muttered.

Danny growled, not through. He hoped not. Portal was bad. Portal was dangerous. Portal hurt. Other side was curious but dangerous. Like stars. Interesting but not a good idea to try and touch. He curled round her as she stopped in front of the door.

She shifted trying to get out of his tangle. “Danny no, you can’t. You can’t come with me. I can’t lose you too.”

“Have to. Need to help. Keep safe.” Danny growled back with static.

“No, no. Don’t worry I’ve got this. You’ll be safe up here and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Lie, need help. Not safe here either.” He whined.

Mom nervous, anxious. Fear. Glanced around. Sigh, “Okay, fine. I can’t leave you here either. She’d just pick us off the moment we split up. Stay close… and Danny if this goes wrong leave. Get help somehow but don’t get yourself… caught.”

“Help protect.” He grumbled.

He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to help. If she could lie then so could he. He nodded. He’d help. He’d protect. He’d watch her back as best he could. He wanted a better weapon than biting though.

Danny clung close to her as she descended into the lab. His glow barely piercing the dark. Mom scanned the dark for anything distinct. He couldn’t even see the portal. Shadows clung tight, not like the small bubble they’d been given before. All a game. Just toying with them.

“Foolish.” Spectra laughed. “You could have left. You could have saved yourself and yet you walk into the lion’s den to save them. How stupid.”

Bertrand lunged out of the shadows knocking Mom down the stairs. Clattering. Painful tumble. Thump. Danny screeched and rushed at the dark. He couldn’t see her. He heard the whine and zap of Mom’s pistol.

“Useless. Should have fled while you could. You know what that means for him right?” Bertrand chuckled a growl somewhere in the dark.

“He’s so fresh, just a few months. Oh how tender he’ll be.” claws grasped at him. “And how sweet your misery will be to see it happen.”

He lashed out at the grasping hands, his hands tingling. Burning cold. There was a flash and the intruder hissed. He launched himself in the direction of the hiss. Mom shot green blasts from somewhere. He had to help her. He had to fight. He caught sight of Bertrand. Too many limbs. Half way between the leopard he had been and something with far more legs. Too many eyes and insect like. He hit something. Sticky and tangling.

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#writing #danny phantom #fan fiction #eldritch danny #full ghost danny #invisobang 2024 #good parents fentons #hazmat au #invisobang #weaving webs fic #caught in the spiders web series

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myymi · 1 year ago

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“and they'll ask why he never said anything and he just. explicitly states that he could burden them with something he should be able to do on his own”

I can just imagine how absolutely devastating that would be for the older sibs because dude this little kid is only eight and instead of his first thought when learning this information being to come to them rather it was to hide it so that he didn’t become a burden to them. Tails is only a little kid he shouldn’t have to worry about that kind of stuff.

They would take him to the couch and gentle settle him down on it with lots of pillows and blankets, shadow would bring him something to eat because knowing tails he probably hasn’t fed himself in a long while. As tails ate they’d all probably start getting to work on dematting tails fur.

After leaving it so long it would probably be so overstimulating whether in a good way or a bad way I don’t really know. I’m sure he would be relieved and try to relish in every single second him them brushing out his fur but at the same time he had isolated himself so much the change would be jarring.

I like to imagine they’d take it slow, maybe space it out over a few days so tails could have breaks, sit on the couch watching tv and talking. Instantly tails is feeling better and the depressive feeling is basically completely gone. He’d probably get lots of nuzzles and stuff while they get rid of all the matting

it's so depressing how an 8yo has been so hurt and traumatized that when faced with a problem he thinks he has to take it on alone.

he thinks he has to shoulder all his burdens on his own because he was told that for years. and it breaks their hearts because they can't get him to learn he doesn't have to do that anymore

so they try a new tactic. they try to show him that he doesn't have to take everything alone because obviously just saying it isn't enough

they settle him down and pile up all his comfort items. his favorite hoodie that smells like mint, his blanket he keeps in his workshop that's covered in oil stains, anything that'll comfort him

and then sonic will speed off to grab four brushes for each of them while shadow brings in a plate of chili dogs since they're tails' comfort food.

sonic and knuckles each get one tail, since they've know tails the longest and he trusts them most, then sonic moves to tails' head as knuckles carefully untangled the mess that is his back fur. amy is tasked with his chest and arms while shadow gets his legs and stomach

they're so gentle and patient with him, stopping every time there's the slightest sniffle to ask if he's okay. he can't do anything but tearfully nod, speaking is far too hard for him right now.

he's overwhelmed with love and care that he never expected to receive because he was always told he didn't deserve it for the way he looked and he doesn't know what to do about it

#they're so soft with their baby auuhhdjddnsj #i love them too much #miles tails prower #sonic the hedgehog #sth #tails the fox #sonic #whotfletamothhyperfix #myyanswers #knuckles the echidna #unbreakable bond #amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #dynamic duo #brain and brawn #pinky lemonade #bumblebee #big sibs

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lullaebies · 1 year ago

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Hi! I’m not sure if you’ve already done this, but do you have any headcannons about the way that Aegon and Helaena act as parents? I’ve always wondered what their dynamic would be with the kids, especially when Helaena had just given birth to the twins 🫶🫶🫶

I don't believe I have done this yet, no - and that means it was due time for me to do so!! love my babies and their babies. 🫶

Helaegon as Parents Headcanons

◈ To begin with, given with the fact Helaena was very young when she gave birth to the twins and Aegon himself was no more than a year (or two according to the show) older, it would be a pretty rough adjustment. One kid would've had those two shook, the fact they are immediately hit with two kids is like holy smokes. Helaena often stays very close with the babies, partly because of the ongoing speech about them ("not all was well with these Targaryen princelings), partly because she finds herself very in tune and comfortable with them, and they're one of the aspects in her life she can very much decide for what is going on. For Aegon it's rougher - I genuinely think the birth would likely to be more traumatizing for the two of them and in combo of the talks about the kids he has a really hard time that nothing that is his is never good enough. He'll be pretty distant at the beginning because of it.

◈ That being said, that is not to say Aegon hates his kids. He would look down to them at some nights when they are already deep in sleep, he would be a bit awkward trying to assimilate fatherly aspect but every not and again one of the twins will reach for his arms and he just can't say no. They'll fall asleep in his arms and he wouldn't know how to put them down, either - he doesn't want to ruin the moment but he kind of believes he is the moment ruiner, you know? They'll probably stay in his arms until Helaena untangles him in rescue. When they are very calm in his arms, he lets go but hesitantly. It's one scenery he couldn't ruin, and he would'nt have minded for it to stay longer.

◈ Helaena is very hands on mama for a royal, she picks the stories and toys with her interests woven into them (dragonfly dolls!) and the advise of the maids who care for them, she sometimes brushes their hair instead of the maids, she generally always a few steps away in case they need her. Aegon acts more subtly in their matters, around but invisible, leaving them gifts like dolls or games to play with. He will always come with something on him to them because he feels better when they are very happy about the gifts. At times he doesn't have something on him (specifically in private times when he is alone with them), he funnily tries to copy Helaena or Alicent - he'd pick up a book they have tossed around to read to them.

◈ Maelor comes around in better circumstances with no defects or talk and that's where Aegon assimilates a bit better to fatherhood. This is also where he starts being more comfortable and his children start to be more of menaces because they certainly try to play with dad. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera had long been hair pullers as babies, but it all comes back when Maelor becomes The Clingiest Child of the year. Jaehaerys gains his "twerp" nickname and Maelor his "brat" nickname, but that's because he becomes a lot more comfortable with them. (Jaehaera's a lady, she comforts dad after her brothers bite his ankles. She's just Aegon's Haera.)

◈ Now, they are helaegon kids through and through; these kids crave love and understanding as much as their parents. Jaehaerys really does look for his dad and probably snuck to his chambers to find him dead drunk and snoring. He might be his alarm clock at mornings. Jaehaera practices with Helaena and Alicent her letters and her reading because the septas are quick to pass judgement, determined to read everything right so they would be proud of her. Maelor is clingy af because he got used to it and can and WILL stall both Helaena and Aegon, for no reason finding their rings very interesting to play with; but he's a baby - he's far more interested in his parent's home.

◈ The theme of “do you love me?" is very persistent in this family. From Aegon it's very obvious, the kids want him to love them, but even with Helaena when she struggles at being a mother, the babies always feel when a day is rough on her. They're a difficult family with difficult lives and if the kids ask Helaena or Aegon if they love them, it would be heartbreaking for either, it would resound with them on different measures, but the answer of course will always be yes. "You are my dearest loves," from Helaena, who truly sees them as the light in her life or a "of course, you twats," from Aegon who would pick them up to a hug so they won't see he's shaken. And shit will continue to be rough as this family is nothing but bumpy roads, but there's still is love.

#tumblr didn’t want to let me post this so i had to move to phone #anyway i love my broken family a normal amount #helaegon #helaena targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #jaehaera targaryen #jaehaerys targaryen #prince jaehaerys targaryen #maelor targaryen #hotd #team green #my headcanons #answered

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yacinthemorning · 1 year ago

Text

Tailored to Your Liking

Chapter 5

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Summary: Tumble Town attracts all sorts of misfits looking for a fresh start on the frontier, but everyone still needs clothes. Be it extra limbs or high temperatures, Jimmy caters to every hybrid's needs.

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Grian/Mumbo/Scar (romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic)

Warnings: Implied traumatic events, awkward flirting

Typically, Jimmy had learned over the past years, carrots could be harvested a few weeks before the sweet potatoes. This year, however, would not give him a break. Late planting, no sun, and then too much sun, gophers, and finally just plain bad luck with growth. He glared down at the pathetic yellow vegetable, hardly two inches in length compared to its towering leaves.

It would be his luck, after he’d bragged about his carrot cake to his house guest, for this to happen. Of course, he could always buy carrots from Martyn, but that wasn’t the point. Jimmy sighed, rolling back onto his behind to stare up at the sky. Did he leave them be and hope they grew a bit more into a usable size? Harvest them anyways? They couldn’t all be so small. There was no harm in leaving roots in the ground, though, if not for the gophers.

The back door swung open, letting out a puff of smoke. Said puff of smoke coughed and shook, until a face blinked out at Jimmy. “Oh, there you are!” Tango chirped.

“What did you do? I hope you didn’t get any of that in my workshop.” Jimmy clambered back up onto his feet, picking up the watering can on his way. Tango shook most of his soot off like a dog before Jimmy was able to slap the dipped kerchief onto his cheek. The blazeborn yelped, hair flickering from the shock and turning the liquid into steam. Jimmy didn’t stop until at least his face was cleared. “Look at you, it’s like you never left the mines.” He huffed.

“A minor incident may have occurred while doing some repairs.” His muffled voice explained while he tried to bat Jimmy away. “But it’s fine, I swear!” He managed to wrestle the cloth away to finish his own cleaning.

Jimmy laughed, “If you plan on working with heavy machinery you should go to a forge.”

“I wasn’t! I was just trying to reshape a part in something hot. See, Scott at the parlour gave me this ice-cream maker that wouldn’t crank, and while I was repairing it I noticed this one piece-”

“Where on earth- Tango did you use my stove for your metal work?”

Tango hunched over with a guilty grin. Jimmy groaned, rushing inside to make sure there was no major damage. His stove was open, a pair of iron tongs left half inside, with a rapidly cooling hunk of metal sitting on a brick on his stovetop. Most of the soot seemed to have wound up on Tango, both to Jimmy’s relief and annoyance. He spun around, hands on hips, and glared. “Are you daft?”

“Look, see, it’s not that bad-”

“You could have burnt the house down!”

“I took the necessary precautions! I just needed to reshape a small piece.”

“Then why didn’t you simply- you know?” He flicked his wrist and Tango’s sparking hair.

Tango’s face twisted, grabbing the hem of his shirt and fanning it. “Because the whole- you know?”

It was certainly rude, but Jimmy supposed the man knew more about his own flames than an avian. With a conceding wave, Jimmy groaned and began walking towards the cleaning closet. “See here, just…” He grumbled to himself as he tried to pull the mop out, only to find it caught on something out of sight. Just his luck. “If you’re going to be doing metalwork and the like then at least build a shed or something for it in the yard.” What all did such a task need? He didn’t know and he didn’t especially care at the moment. Maybe when he calmed down he’d happily listen to an explanation, but right now he was trying to keep his heart from beating out of his chest.

So busy attempting to untangle the mop, Jimmy failed to notice the silence behind him. Not until he’d turned to his companion in search of absent assistance and was instead met with wide, red eyes. Something like wonder swam in them, along with far too many other emotions that made Jimmy tense up in his confusion. “You would let me build that?”

An ‘ of course? ’ nearly fell from his lips without thought, before he absorbed Tango’s words. Before it occurred to him the implications of his own.

Many things in Jimmy’s home had changed in the past two months. A sewing machine and new lights were gifts. Redstone tools and work boots filled spaces that had been empty before and could be emptied at any point. The extra seating in his shop and the new bed in a guest room which was formerly storage were accommodations for a second presence, but they were without character.

But a work shed…

Feathers raised on end. He turned away, focusing back on the mop, though he suddenly felt the energy to clean abandon him. “Or at least go to Impulse’s if you intend to blow up an oven.” He said instead of any of the thoughts darting around his mind. He was not his brother, he was most certainly not his brother. “I’d rather keep my house.”

Tango gaped like a fish, ready to say something, but ultimately snapped shut. He walked up, giving a small nod for Jimmy to step out of the way, and bent down into the closet. Within a few seconds the mop was in his hands and the door was closed. “I’ll clean up.”

Jimmy took a deep breath. “Okay.” A tightness encased his chest. There wasn’t time to think about it. He needed to finish gardening, then he needed to put the last touches on Lizzie’s dress before she picked it up tomorrow. Then-

“Hey, Jim?” Tango called just as the avian reached the back door. “I need to go pick some redstone up from Joe for a job.” His tail twitched, “Do you need anything?”

“Just… Pick up my order from him. And ask him when the next train shipment will be in.” Jimmy said, nearly too quiet, pulling his wings in close to his back. “It should have your nether fabrics.”

Woven straw thudded hard against the wood bar counter from the weight of the raw redstone and metal plates within. Tango’s forehead followed, groan escaping as he wrapped his arm around his face. Cold seeped into his skin from the wood for a brief moment before his own high body temperature heated it faster than it could cool him.

Heavy steps approached, and a glass was placed down next to his elbow. “Rough day already? It’s only noon.”

Tango lifted his head just enough to pout at Impulse, who smiled back. He grabbed the glass given, to discover it was only seltzer. Of course his friend would be responsible when he least wanted it. His face twisted. “I think I upset Jimmy.”

“Oh no, what did you do to the poor fellow this time?” There was more amusement than anything in his voice.

“I might have used his oven as an impromptu forge.”

“Tango!”

“It wasn’t that bad!” He knew he couldn’t defend his poor choices. “I just wanted to get the job done as quickly as possible.”

Impulse’s expression softened before he turned back to cleaning a plate, tail sweeping up in sympathy. The saloon was practically empty at this hour, all the miners back to work and most everyone else busy for another few hours. Skizz was off collecting from the brewery and Zed had run off after some bird he’d seen, leaving the two men alone. Thank the heavens, because Tango wasn’t sure he could deal with their energy at the moment. Once Impulse set the plate aside, he asked, “How much do you have saved up now?”

“Not enough.” Was the only real answer. “Less than I made at the mine in a month, and it’s not exactly reliable. I need to find a real job.”

Impulse hummed, glancing down at his bar. “You know if I could only afford it, I’d hire you.”

“I know you would, buddy.” He sighed, leaning back. “And no one wants another redstoner with Mumbo in town, not when they barely need one. The options out here are somehow both limitless and incredibly limited.”

“You could become a rancher.”

“And compete with Beef?” Tango threw his hand in the air, raised his eyebrow. “The man feeds this and every town within several days travel twice over. Best I could do is beg him to be one of his cowboys, and that ain’t exactly better than the mines pay-wise.”

“Then what about a bandit?” Impulse joked.

“Right, yeah. Because I’d be great with a gun, and I don’t personally know bounty hunters who could hog tie me before I ever sniffed a single copper.”

The two men had a good chuckle simply imagining it before the bar fell silent again. Tango fiddled with the seltzer, taking a small sip now again, mulling over his situation in his head over and over. “Maybe I should just go and beg Fwhip for my job back.”

The last clean plate was placed away, and Impulse turned his full attention onto his friend. “Even if he agreed, then you’d just be back in their barracks, wouldn’t you?” He tilted his head with a knowing smile. “You might as well move back east and get yourself an engineering job at a factory.”

Tango turned away, hiding his warming face behind his palm. “Shut it. It’s not like I can live with Jimmy forever, anyways.”

“You might, if you stopped fooling around and properly courted the fellow.”

“But that’s part of the problem!” He hissed, pushing out of the chair to throw his hands out further. “I can’t just court someone I’m leeching from. Jimmy’s real kind, but he ain’t stupid enough to accept a beggar relying on his money and home, who almost blew up his kitchen. Even a blind man can see how bad that looks.”

Impulse shook his head and dipped into a cupboard. “Well, it’s better than being a gambler or an alcoholic.”

“Setting the bar real high for me, there.” Tango slumped against the bar, glaring at his friend’s back. “One step above rock bottom. Real catch I am.”

“Downright irresistible.” A small bag was placed on the counter in front of the blazeborn. Though full, it gave way easily, and Tango suspected he knew its contents before Impulse explained. “Before you go, would you mind asking Jimmy to alter these before the dinner party? Skizz and I ordered them by catalogue but there wasn’t an option for tail or wing accommodations.”

A common story, Tango had come to learn. Catalogues often had several options for measurements and colours, but couldn’t be bothered to offer even the slightest alterations to the actual patterns. Not when they were paying some poor homebody copper on the diamond to make several a day. Normally most folks would do such small alterations themselves on work clothes. Impulse was never one too good with a needle and thread, however, and for such nice clothing it was best to leave it to Jimmy. Tango collected both the bag and grocery basket, downed the last of his seltzer, and dropped a copper before heading out. “I’ll see what he can do.”

“Don’t worry so much about Jimmy.” Said Impulse as he left. “You know he doesn’t see it that way. Take his advice and focus on getting things together. I’m sure there’s a place for you in town, whatever you want to do.”

If only life were that kind.

Jimmy had made an irreparable mess of everything.

That was the conclusion he’d come to after all these hours alone. He’d made a fool of himself making a fool of Tango and chased him off for good. Shown his true colours. Chosen his house over his housemate. All but told him to pack his bags and get out over nothing, he’d be surprised if he bothered to return. Which, in all fairness, it seemed he wouldn’t be, given how long it’d been since he left. It didn’t take three hours to shop, did it?

Well, perhaps on occasion it did, but it wasn’t as though Tango had a long list when he left. A list that, at Jimmy’s request, included the task of checking to see how much longer Tango would be in his hair. No, he had certainly made an utter mess of it all.

It was evening when Tango returned, around when Jimmy was thinking of closing up and returning to his living room to wallow in his idiocy. “I’m back.” Tango declared, distracted with balancing his acquisitions. Jimmy placed down the pattern he was cutting to rush over and help just in time before a case perched precariously fell to its doom. A true heroic moment, given the amazingly tiny gears it was filled with, spotted when they had everything placed down on the table and Tango checked it hadn’t broken open.

Jimmy didn’t bother peeking at the rest, collecting the few vegetables bought and bringing them to his cleaned kitchen. By the time he returned Tango was already sorting his redstone into the small workspace Jimmy had afforded him. His face had screwed up in concentration. A tension hung in the air for too long, Jimmy’s feathers raised on end as he waited for Tango’s usual chatter. It didn’t appear it would come. “You’re a bit later than I expected, honestly.” Stuttered Jimmy.

Tango wiped his redstone-stained hands on his pants. “I ran into Cleo on my way home. There was something jammed in her printing press. Turned out to be a frog she accidentally gazed at.” There was no need for proof, but Tango produced the small stone frog with a grin. It was, admittedly, very cute. Jimmy let his shoulders ease some, which Tango took unfortunate notice of. “What? Did… Did I miss supper?”

“No! No, I haven’t even started yet, honestly.” Jimmy assured, reminded once again of his carrot-predicament. “It, um, we’ll actually not be having cake today either. An issue came up with… ingredients.”

He got an odd look, but eventually Tango shrugged it off. “So, what’s wrong, then?” Tension now built in the blazeborn as well, his tail jerking in agitation.

Well, there was nothing else he could do now. Jimmy had been building up the nerves ever since he checked the kitchen and found it spotless. More honestly, it had been mulling in the back of his mind since he last saw Tango. Thoughts that had distracted him while doing careful work and forced him on his feet to pace out the stress. Grian always said he had a habit of shoving his foot in his mouth, but Jimmy never felt so painfully aware of it until now.

“Jimmy?”

He took a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize for shouting at you this morning. I was just… No, I shouldn’t have. There’s no excuse for you to be treated that way.”

Tango’s eyes widened in shock. “Wh- No! What are you talking about, I completely deserved it?”

But Jimmy shook his head, wringing his hands nervously. Oh, he couldn’t keep still. “You absolutely did not. I panicked and didn’t listen to you. I…” He swallowed. I don’t want you to leave. How could he say that? Or any of the other thoughts that had built themselves into mountains in his mind through the day, only to crumble into nonsense now that Tango was here in front of him again? He closed his mouth before he could humiliate himself.

“I’m the one who should apologize.” Tango said weakly. He put down the frog and approached. “You’ve done so much for me, and all I’ve done is dick around, distract you, and make a mess of your house.”

“I like your mess.” The words tumbled out of Jimmy’s mouth before he could stop them. Every pin feather on his head raised, the skin under turning bright red. The universe truly despised him today.

Tango seemed unsure how to react, a nervous laugh replacing whatever he intended to say. He took his time pulling himself back together, a period in which Jimmy only marginally managed to recover himself, and walked back to the table. “I, um, got your order. And Impulse asked me to bring these suits for you to modify before the party.” He rambled, messing with the edge of the cloth.

Jimmy could work with that. He took a deep breath and let his mind shift back into work mode. “Let me see.” The clothes were laid out, both looking over what needed to be done. “Well, alterations for tails is the most common I’ve had to do, after wings.” He mused aloud, tugging at the fabric. “But if it’s for formal-wear we should make it as presentable as possible.”

Tango’s tail curled around himself, bending awkwardly to try looking at his own work pants. “You just leave a gap in the top of the seam, don’t you?”

“For your tail, perhaps.” Jimmy reached out and tugged between two fingers at the tufted end when it waved past. An affronted squeak escaped the blazeborn, his tail yanking itself away from the light grip. “It’s so thin, you don’t have to worry about your undergarments sticking out, or an embarrassment while removing them. You could have a tail sleeve if you wanted to be especially unfashionable.” He chuckled at the mental image. “Impulse’s tail is considerably thicker and less flexible, however. And those scales of his love to catch on delicate fabrics like this. It’d be best to give him a button clasp.”

“Having to make such completely different adjustments even for the exact same limb…” Tango groaned. “You’re a saint.”

“It seems like much more work when you’re unfamiliar with it.” He waved him off, reaching for the needle he’d had Mumbo modify for undoing stitches. It was so far and above using a random needle or razor. Invaluable in this day and age of mail order and mass production, but Mumbo had insisted it was a silly little gift and turned his attention to his more ridiculous inventions, in Jimmy’s humble opinion. Perhaps some other folks could stand to be a bit more reverent about Jimmy’s work like Tango, actually, or at least offer some respect. “Much of tailoring is the same task in different shapes and combinations.”

Impulse had always had similar issues with clothing as Tango- that is, the acidity in the oils from his scales loved to eat through most fibres, so his selection was limited. Wool was the best common option, of which the jacket was at least made of. Better than attempting to find Void-sourced leathers. Trousers, and the base of the tail especially, were vulnerable to deterioration and staining due to direct contact without the protection of undergarments. Jimmy contemplated if he should line it, or if it would ruin the quality. He was no high-end suit maker who confidently placed his stitching on display to the world, and he likely lacked matching material. At least he was not tasked with making hats for the drake.

He moved on to Skizz’s suit. It would be much easier despite requiring entirely new openings. Though he was not an avian, his flightless wings were feathered like theirs, only requiring minor adjustments to accommodate their motions. There was little he could do to get around the awkward way they would distort the outfit’s silhouette when in motion, the current popular fashions were not made with winged folk in mind.

“It seems crazy, with how many there are.” Tango mused, and only then did Jimmy realize he’d been narrating his thoughts while he worked. A habit he’d grown over the last several weeks.

“Yes, well, numbers aren’t especially meaningful when it comes to setting trends. It’s not the common man on the plates they display in advertisements and magazines. It’s required to look presentable, even if their form cannot fit.”

Tango’s tail twitched, his head tilting to the side. “You know, sometimes you talk like you aren’t much of a fan of your work.”

“I love my work.” Jimmy quickly defended, placing the suit back down. “It’s simply frustrating attempting to modify clothes like this to accommodate everyone it was not made for, rather than creating clothes made for them. Most people aren’t brave enough to wear something that might stand out, and I can’t blame them. You would think living all the way out here might help with that, but ‘polite society’ finds its way everywhere it seems.”

Truthfully, he had only occasionally had such thoughts until recently. Most often while working on preparing the patterns for when Tango’s fabrics got in, which had leaked into his time working on Lizzie’s gown, then retroactively in quiet moments when contemplating the work he’d done for Bigb and Ren. Tango had said so himself, Nether clothing had been draped. Why didn’t he make something similar?

Perhaps he’d taken it a bit to heart recently.

Which reminded him…

“You collected my order from Joe?” He asked. Tango perked up and ran over to the cabinet. He brought over a set of vibrant wool fabrics, placing them down spread out across the desk. Jimmy’s wings fluttered behind him.

A rich violet was lifted up by Tango. “I’m surprised you could afford these. I thought this type of thing was expensive?”

“Normally, yes.” Jimmy admitted, sorting through the shades. “These are new, though, made with a special dye. They call this one mauveine.”

Surprisingly, Tango’s eyes shone with recognition and excitement. “Oh, that was in the newspapers and magazines a few years ago. They created it accidentally from aniline. The first of its kind, they’ve started trying to make all sorts of dyes synthetically from aniline now.”

“Yes.” Jimmy replied, a bit dumbfounded. “Well, it’s becoming quite popular, and more than a few people in town are fond of these bright colours. I bought a few I could find to try.”

“They’re the way of the future.”

“That’s what Mumbo says.” He rubbed his thumb into the fabric, eyeing it with suspicion. “I’m not so sure, though. I’ve heard they fade quickly, and how safe could it be? One made recently left burns.”

The blazeborn only shrugged. “I mean, if they’re selling them even all the way out here, these ones have to be safe.”

“Or it’s the only place left where they can scam customers out of their money, like Scar.” Jimmy snorted. “You would be surprised at some of the ridiculous things I’ve seen people purchase simply because it had a lovely advert in the paper, or heard about from their second cousin in the city who insisted it was the big new thing.”

“What can I say, aren’t new inventions exciting? The mistakes are the fun part, anyways.” Came the response, followed by a cackle when Jimmy’s face twisted. “These seem to be fine, though. Your hands are as pretty as ever.”

“I change my mind. Why are you still in my house.”

Tango’s laughter only roared louder until Jimmy could no longer keep the smile off his lips and joined him. When the pair calmed down once more he pushed the mauve fabric to the side. “This isn’t quite the shade I want, though. I’ll save it for Lizzie.”

“This one’s nice.” Tango picked up another, redder shade. Next to him it certainly was, matching the fiery golds of his hair and red eyes. That was all Jimmy needed to make up his mind.

“It is.” He said, taking it from his companion. “I think I’ll use it.”

“For what?”

“Secret.”

Tango made a whine, but Jimmy held strong, only putting his finger to his lips before walking the fabrics back to the cabinet.

“How about we go make supper? Since my oven is now usable again.”

Hands flung into the air with a groan. “You mess up one time! I swear!”

“Yes, yes.” He cooed, shooing Tango off to the kitchen. “Let’s go, my little genius, you can use your blacksmithing skills on the potatoes.”

#jimmy solidarity #tangotek #solidaritek #team rancher #rancher duo #trafficshipping #mcyt #traffic series #hermitpires #alternate universe #western fantasy #fluff #hurt/comfort #slice of life #fanfiction #sharing a slice of cake

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