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achenetype · 3 months

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Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷

OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts

edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god

i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury

listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell

You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.

Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.

But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."

He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.

Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.

Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."

You nod, but stay quiet.

He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"

When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.

"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"

"Sure," you said. "Super fun."

And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.

And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.

Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."

"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.

You hated that look.

"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."

You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.

Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.

"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.

She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."

She scoffed.

You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.

You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.

Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.

That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.

"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.

Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."

"Then why do you do it," you asked.

When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."

"Did you fight with Dad?"

Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."

You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"

She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."

The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.

"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.

Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."

She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."

"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"

She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"

At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.

“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”

“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.”

She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”

It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment.

And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod.

And you never saw her again.

“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.

He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.

You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out.

“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”

“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.

The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.

“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”

Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”

Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold.

“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.

You raise an eyebrow. “This?”

He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”

You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off.

You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.

Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.

He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.

Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says.

Almost.

“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”

A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly.

“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?”

Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?

Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.

Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.

You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—

—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—

—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—

—and three, Luke was right.

Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil.

When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.

“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”

You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded.

“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”

Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”

You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed.

His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?

You smiled and nodded.

Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.

He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.

“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.

You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.

He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.”

Of course he remembers.

You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.

In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”

You shrugged. “Sure,” you said.

“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.”

Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”

You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?

“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”

“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”

You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.

It’s almost time.

Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this.

“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.

Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs.

“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.

You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”

Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”

“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.

“Are you scared?”

It’s your birthday.

You think you’re going to die.

Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it.

“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”

You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all.

You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”

“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—”

You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.

“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.

Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”

He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.

Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—

“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”

He freezes. “What?”

You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”

Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”

“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”

Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets.

“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”

You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”

Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.

He’s crying. Why is he—

“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes slip shut.

I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.

#— ash's writing #pjo x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #reader insert #y/n #pjo imagine #ok now we get into the warning tags #graphic depictions of injury #major character death #major character injury #reader death #alcohol mention #doomed by the narrative #genuinely im so sorry i really ran wild with this one good god #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #— ash’s answering!

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just--kay · 2 years

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It's almost midnight post M//arble H//ornets unpopular opinions

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#s//kully isn't jay #like the source material tells us explicitly that he isn't #jay is part of him but so are a ton of other characters #by that logic s//kully could also be alex or brian #they're not the same persoooonnn #im tired of fandom acting like they are!! theyre both individual characters and theyre interesting on their own please GOD #'but jays face was the default' dont be a coward s//kully is a terrifying entity with no solid form #he chose to use jays face because it would be one of the only faces Jessica would recognize the only other ones being alexs or amys #and there are obvious reasons why he wouldnt choose their faces !!!#♡ kay txt #anyway *squishes him like a squeaky toy* i love you more than anyone else ever will

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queenwhoneverwasx · 2 years

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FARAH DOWLING and SAUL SILVA in FATE THE WINX SAGA

#ONE WEEK TO GO #SEVEN DAYS TIL SEASON 2 #I NEED THEM BACK OK #THEY OWN ME #please brian for the love of god #that's all i'm asking #farah is taking a nap #silrah #saul silva #farah dowling #eve best #rob james collier #ftws #fate the winx saga #forever thinking about this scene #like sorry #the way he just falls into her embrace #COME ON

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sister-lucifer · 4 months

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A Bullet in the Chamber

Proxies (Hoodie, Masky, Toby) x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Horror/Dark Angst

Summary: They want you to prove your love, to prove that you truly believe you’re meant to be together…with the help of Tim’s revolver, of course.

Content/Warnings: God, where do I start…obviously massive use of a gun, they play russian roulette, descriptions of gore, the proxies are super manipulative and emotionally abusive to reader, just a super obsessive not healthy relationship, this is NOT a feel good fic, it’s implied reader is being held captive

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“We just wanna…play a little game with you, that’s all,” Tim drawls, his voice deep and lazy as he looks at you from behind his mask.

You’re nervous suddenly. Unbearably nervous. A cold chill runs throughout your body and makes your stomach convulse in an agonizing manner, and you don’t know if you’re going to vomit or pass out first. You don’t know why. He’s only just started speaking. Maybe it’s the way he drew out the last part of that sentence, or the way he immediately tried to soothe you before you’ve even fully understood what’s going on, or just that look in his eyes that says ‘I want to fucking gut you.’

There’s a reason you learned to keep your guard up around these three.

Suddenly the little circle you’re all sitting in on the floor feels much, much tighter than is comfortable, and it doesn’t help that Toby slides in closer, bumping your shoulder with his and flashing you a knowing smirk. What exactly he knows, though, is a horrific enigma to you.

Brian is on your other side, and although he doesn’t move, for a split second he glances at you out of the corner of his eye before his gaze returns to Tim. He’s managing to hold a straight face, but you can see the corners of his mouth just barely twitching as he internally fights to keep the emotion bubbling beneath the surface at bay.

There’s silence for a few moments, you’re not sure how long, but you don’t realize they’re waiting for you to speak until Toby nudges you.

“I, uh…what, um— what kind of game…?” You stammer, immediately regretting your question despite the curiosity that’s gnawing at you like a starving animal. You shudder when Toby giggles, clearly trying to stifle the sound as he bumps your shoulder again.

Tim thinks over his answer for a moment, scratching at his stubble in a manner that is far too casual. You think he’s going to speak, you’re expecting it, but he doesn’t say anything at first beyond a tired sounding sigh. Your eyes are locked onto his hand as it reaches behind him, and when it emerges once more it’s holding onto the grip of Tim’s revolver.

“There’s one bullet in the chamber.”

The world is spinning suddenly as you watch him place the weapon on the ground, and the sound of it sliding across the floor to you makes you sick. You bite back a gag as it slows to a stop in front of you. Your mouth hangs open uselessly as you struggle for words, desperate to pull out some sort of protest to what you know he wants but no sound comes.

They watch you grapple with yourself for a few moments before Brian places a hand on your knee. It’s supposed to be a comforting gesture, and normally it would be, but now it feels like a threat.

“Hey, don’t freak out so soon,” He says, lips curled into a subtle smirk, “We did this all the time when we were younger, it’s practically a rite of passage.”

Unsurprisingly, this does little to quell your fears. You’re shaking now, unable to wrap your mind around how they could be acting so nonchalant about putting your lives on the line like this.

“Listen,” Tim huffs, “I’m gonna be straight with ya, kid. We know how you’ve been feeling recently.”

That hardly narrows it down. You’ve been feeling a lot of things recently, none of it good and all of it confusing. That’s just the sort of conflict born from this kind of captivity. You shrug, unsure what to say.

“We know you w-wanna leave,” Toby clarifies, “I saw you staring out t-the window the other day…you just s-sat there for hours.”

That…made you feel a bit guilty. You shouldn’t, but you do. You could’ve at least made it less obvious.

“We trust you, hon,” Brian adds with a nod, “But we also think we could all use a little…what did you call it?”

He turns to Tim, who yawns before answering.

“…Group bonding.”

You shudder at the phrase. Disgusting.

“I…I don’t think this is the best way to…t-to do that,” You murmur, but your words hold no weight when you can’t even look them in the eyes. You’d never take the risk of making any sort of real fuss anyways.

Tim shrugs, seeming to consider your words.

“How would you do it, then?”

You…don’t have an answer for that. Why don’t you have an answer for that?

“I-I don’t know, I mean…can’t we just have awkward group sex like other, uh…groups, or whatever?” You ask, hesitating to call your dynamic any sort of relationship.

You make sure to tack on a nervous laugh at the end to make it seem lighthearted, but no one is amused. Toby giggles, but he’s laughing at you, and it’s painfully obvious.

“Don’t stress about it,” Tim says, “Just think of it as a…a test, you know?”

He sighs when you shake your head no.

“Ya know, like…a way of proving yourself. I mean, you trust us, right?”

You hesitate to answer that, but nod quickly when Tim narrows his eyes at you.

“Good. Well, think of it this way: if we all survive this, it’s a sign that we’re…meant to be together.”

“There has to be a better way—“ You blurt out before you can stop yourself, and Brian instantly takes to calming you.

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. His other hand comes up to your face, holding your head against his shoulder.

“Calm down, baby,” He says softly, “Don’t jump ship so fast. I told you, we’ve all done this before. We’ll even go first to show you there’s nothing to be afraid of, alright?”

He’s not really giving you a choice.

You nod.

Maybe you’ll be able to just get this over with. If you sit here for much longer, you’re gonna be sick.

Toby reaches out to grab the gun first. That doesn’t surprise you at all. He’s never been one for forethought, or common sense in general. One day his hubris will get him killed, you think, but for once you’re hoping it won’t be today.

Not today.

Not here.

Not right in front of you.

Brian doesn’t let you go, continuing to hold you against him as Toby makes a show of spinning the chamber, letting it run until it stops on its own. He giggles with deranged amusement as he presses the end of the barrel to the bottom of his chin, looking back at Tim with a crooked grin.

There’s silent for a few moments, and you can’t look away from him until you follow his gaze to Tim, who is staring back with furrowed brows.

He’s still for a beat, and then he nods.

A signal.

Go.

You have a split second to process Toby preparing to pull the trigger before you bury your face in Brian’s hoodie and he, in turn, covers your face with his hand and squeezes you tight. It’s hardly comforting, but it’s better than nothing.

The soft click of the trigger seems to echo endlessly in the silence that follows.

Silence.

You quickly look back up and are immediately met with Toby’s hazel eyes looking back at you, their corners crinkled with the wide smile that’s spread across his pale face.

“Lookie there,” He drawls with a laugh, “This h-handsome face is still in tact.”

“Hardly the better outcome,” Tim mutters with a roll of his eyes.

This prompts Toby to slide the gun to him next, crossing his arms in feigned hurt.

“You go n-next then, wise guy. If you blow y-your brains out, at least we’ll know you h-had one.”

“Shut up,” Tim hisses back as he, too, brings his hand up to spin the chamber of the revolver. You’re still trying to catch your breath. You didn’t think they’d be so eager.

You’re gripping onto Brian’s hoodie so tightly your knuckles burn as you watch Tim press the barrel of the gun to his jaw, angling it upwards toward the dome of his skull.

He’s not nearly as giddy as Toby. He’s straight faced and silent, which isn’t odd, but something in his eyes is darker than you ever remember it being. You can only see his eyes with his mask on, yet you know his expression exactly. He’s staring right at you, and you’re imagining his brains dashed against the wall behind him, his face and any identifying features that once made him human reduced to a splatter of viscera that barely resembles the pieces of a person.

And when it’s all over, you think, you’ll surely be the one left to clean the mess of what used to be Tim. You’ll be left to scrub the red stains from the floorboards while the others continue on as if nothing has happened, and suddenly you can’t breathe.

The world stills as once more the trigger is pulled with a click.

Then relief hits you like a shockwave when that click is followed by silence.

Silence.

Your lungs fill faster than you were ready for, and you cough and sputter as your chest heaves with newfound breath. Brian rubs your shoulder gently, his other hand reaching out to grab the revolver as Tim slides it to him. The gun is exchanged without a word, only piercing eye contact as Brian lifts the weapon and spins the chamber, just as his companions had done before him.

It seems so natural for all of them. In the half a second it takes for Brian to lift the gun you wonder how many times they’ve done this, if you’re the first person to witness this ritual, and if not, what happened to those who came before you.

You don’t find any hope of getting answers, though, as you watch Brian press the barrel to the side of his head. He gives you a squeeze, and you can’t tell if he’s assuring you or saying goodbye just in case.

You still haven’t released his hoodie despite the throbbing pain in your fingers. You’re barely a thread away from tearing out a patch, but you can’t let go. You don’t look at him this time, unable to pull your head away from where it rests on his shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze like you’re trying to crush him, but he only lets out a breathy chuckle and ruffles your hair in response as if he’s amused by your terror. You’re a scared kid to him, a foolish little child running from an imaginary monster despite the very real threat.

You can hear his hoodie shifting as he adjusts the position of the gun. You can hear the slight scratching against his hair as the barrel moves against his head. You can hear him suck in a quick breath as he readies himself to pull the trigger.

You hear the click.

And then silence.

Silence.

You’ve never been so grateful for silence.

You nearly jump out of your skin when Toby claps and laughs loudly, practically howling with wildly misplaced celebration. He shakes you in his excitement, unable to get any intelligible words out through his giggling.

“Shhh,” Brian says with a finger to his lips, “We’re not done yet.”

He’s right. Goddamnit, he’s right. Not everyone has played yet. You were hoping that maybe just this once the higher being that trapped you in this hell would have this minuscule mercy on you, but you were met with a resounding no.

Brian places the gun on the floor in front of you. You can’t hear the sound of the metal gently knocking against the wood floor, but it makes you feel ice cold. Your world is rapidly going dark as you struggle to make yourself breathe.

You can feel the others’ eyes on you, three pairs of eyes staring right at you and boring a hole through your skull that’ll surely be identical to the one the bullet will leave. Maybe they’re imagining it, too.

It seems you’re not moving fast enough for them.

Toby reaches out and grabs your wrist a bit too roughly, forcefully placing your hand on the gun. You wince like you expect it to burn, but you’re left with only the cruel sensation of metal on your palm.

You weakly curl your fingers around the grip of the gun. It feels impossibly heavy as you lift it, trembling like a leaf in the wind. You force your other hand up, placing two fingers on the chamber of the revolver as you prepare to spin it.

You press the pads of your fingers against the metal, pushing down in an attempt to spin, but the gun slips from your shaking hands and clatters to the floor. You yelp in surprise and clamp your hands over your mouth, tears suddenly forming in your eyes but refusing to flow over.

Brian sighs. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or just disappointed. He picks up the gun, and you think that maybe, just maybe he’s going to let you out, grant you some small reprieve and tell you you don’t have to do this.

Instead he wraps an arm around your waist and holds you close, and his other hand presses the barrel of the gun right to your head.

“I’ll do it for you,” He says, as if it’s nothing serious. Like he’s just grabbing a box off a high shelf to be nice.

You feel like he’s strangling you. He might as well be. It would be a more humane death.

He’s going to kill you, you think, you’re going to die in this godforsaken house with these bastards, you’re going to die in isolation with no one to honor your body.

They’ve sentenced you to death.

You think back to that question of how many have come before you. Is this what they thought about, too? Is this the first, third or twentieth time someone like you has been here? How many unfortunate circumstances have stained the floorboards red over the years this cabin has stood?

It doesn’t matter.

None of that matters.

You’re going to be the next.

That’s all there is for you to be now.

A stain of red on the old wood floors will be your only legacy.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you look up at Brian. His expression doesn’t move an inch. There’s no trace of the humor he always seems to have, not even a hint of feigned compassion or sympathy for your position. He’s not letting you out of this. None of them are.

You reach down and grab Brian’s hand where it rests in your hip, your nails digging into his knuckles. He doesn’t react. He doesn’t even move beyond adjusting his finger to pull the trigger.

Each second seems to go on for an eternity, yet at the same time everything is moving far too fast. You can’t process what’s happening but you just want it over with, that’s your only choice.

He’s lifting his finger, preparing to bring it down on the trigger.

He’s pressing the barrel of the gun into your skin just a bit harder as he readies himself for whatever happens next.

This is it.

This is it this is it this is it this is it this is it this is it this is…

The trigger clicks.

Then there’s silence.

…it.

Silence.

And then Toby erupts with animalistic, ecstatic laughter. It rings in your ears and echoes around your skull in an almost painful manner. You can’t stand the sound.

You’re alive.

The game is over.

All at once relief floods your body in such an overwhelming manner your vision goes dark. You can’t speak a word before you’ve gone limp in Brian’s arms, and he barely has time to put the revolver down and catch you. He holds you in his arms and makes a half hearted attempt to wake you, but when you don’t respond he looks up at Tim with a smirk.

“Out like a light.”

Tim can’t help but chuckle, and for a moment it’s even a full on laugh. This only encourages Toby, who’s flopped over onto his back as his body writhes with mirth.

Brian groans as he stands, pulling your body up with him. He throws you over his shoulder and nods to the others.

“I’m taking this one up stairs, gonna put ‘em to bed. I’m sure they’ll be whiny when they wake up, and you two better deal with it.”

Tim and Toby nod and wave him away. Toby’s finally stopped laughing enough to pull himself off the floor as Tim picks up the revolver. He shoves it into Toby’s chest, nearly pushing him over.

“Go put it up,” Tim orders.

“Or what?” Toby teases as he takes the gun, “You g-gonna get mad ‘cause I won’t clean up y-your toys?”

“Just do it,” Tim demands with a growl, clearly not amused. Toby rolls his eyes and huffs like a defiant child, but nods.

Tim starts to walk away, headed upstairs to his own room, but he pauses on the first step and turns to Toby.

“Oh, and don’t forget to load it,” He adds, “If it’s empty the next time I need it, I’m gonna kill you.”

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d0g0r0t · 7 months

Note

can I pls have yandere Toby??? pretty please

Yandera Toby

TW:GROSS SHIT!!! Obsession, stalking, violence, sh

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKK!!!!!!!

He's low-key so pathetic

Seeing how pretty and kind you are he couldn't help but fall... well become obsessed

Your his!.... who the fuck are they? Why aren't you with him your supposed to be with him not them!

Yea no. He's all over the place when it comes to you

He'll sneak into your house, stealing things that smell like you or remind him of you

Stealing your perfume and using that shit like Febreze. He can barely breath in his own room anymore cause he used the whole bottle, reeking the room with your smell

He steals your deodorant, shampoo, conditioner, bodywash. Just to feel a little closer to you

He takes your underwear every now and then. Over time you'll find it on your door step all... sticky and.. what the fuck is that smell?

It's gross.

He takes your worn out shirts ALOT. You always looking threw your closet trying to find that one band tee the just suddenly disappeared

He'll give them back once he has you <3

Leaving you with little hickeys and red bruises on your neck when you sleep

He loves seeing you wake up in the morning confused on why you have these marks on your throat knowing damn well you didn't go out that night

He really does like you. He sees his obsession as a simple crush when it really isnt

He's never had someone he can see romantically so it was weird when he found out he DID love you

He gets emotional. Seeing you with someone else or not by his side

It feels like your betraying him even tho you don't know he exists

He talks about you SO.MUCH

It's like that stupid "hey masky" thing but instead it's "y/n" over and over again

Tim AND Brian have both rocked his shit because he wouldn't shut up

He has so many pictures of you on his walls. Some of you sleep, some of you eating, working, brushing your teeth, bathing. It's insane how many his got of you

He stalks your socials with his victims phones, getting BEN to figure your locations and you WHOLE life story

He knows a little to much about you

"Oh! Y/n order pizza last night at 7:46pm!"

"How... how the fuck do you know that?.."

He knows all of your accounts on and social. He wants to like your stuff but he doesn't want you to know him just yet

He screenshots your stuff and favoring all your videos to the phone

His wallpaper his your face and his password his you name or birthday

His tics slowly started to form around you as well. Him randomly stuttering out your name or something about you

The moment he actually kidnaps you is when he killed everyone you know and love

He's the only one you should love and think about. Just like him!

He holds you in his bed, ropes around you wrists and ankles

He would never put you in some nasty basement your to pretty for something like that

He stares at you for hours. Watching you struggle and squirm as desperate tears stream down your face. His head and arms rested up on the bed as he just watches you

He only keeps you tied you to his bed for a little while

He may be crazy but he's not abusive and wants you to be comfortable... kinda

He never hurts you, or tries not to

The only time he'll hurt you is if you try to leave him

But let's just hope you don't do that

He keeps you locked in his room for God who knows how long

He brings you your favorite goods and drinks and overall treats you well

He knows you won't love him right away but he doesn't want you to hate him

He asks if he can touch you or do certain things

If you say yes he's praising you and thanking you. But if you say no he begs for a bit but understand after a moment

He doesn't want to hurt you, he really doesn't

The idea of you being in pain from his hands reminds him of his father and the way Lyra looked after every beating broke him

He doesn't want to see you like that

He literally BEGS you if he can kiss you. On his hands and knees "PLEASEEEEEEE"

When you do he's shaky and doesn't know where to put his hands. He gets so needy for your lips and becomes a bit aggressive

Biting your lips, shoving his tounge in your mouth. It's wild

He bites at his fingers so much just thinking about you to where he starts bleeding.

Or scratching at his skin at the thought of you with someone else

Sad

NSFW

GROSS SHIT!!!_______________________________________

Jerks off to your pictures every night no questions asked

Uses your underwear as a cum rag hints why it's so gross and sticky

He's moaning your name softly as he cums, whimpering and gripping at the sheets just thinking about how gorgeous you are

CAN NOT control himself around you

He has so little sex life he's like a 14 boy who just hit puberty and can't look at a girl in the eyes

He's tenting so bad it looks actually painful

When you catch him staring at your body he turns in a mess apologizing that he was looking at the he didn't mean it like that. And covering his boner...

The thought of YOU and HIM was like a dream that he knew would never happen.

Feeling your soft gummy walls around him is all he thought about

When ever he touches you he gets needy and wanting to touch you even more

If you two are ACTUALLY involved don't be surprised when randomly you get groped aggressively

He loves seeing you squirming and trembling under him. Soft tears streaming down your pink face as he bucks himself balls deep. Heavenly

SORRY ONCE AGAIN SHIT IS TAKING SO LONGGG

Also ik u didn't ask for NSFW I just had to 💀

#creepypasta #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby #slenderman #toby rogers #x reader #crp #creepypasta x reader

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urfavsimpingfanficwriter · 11 months

Note

Hey!! Could we potentially get some Brian Quinn smut? :)

Bathroom Sex -Brian QuinnxFem!Reader

I haven't been on here in a while so I'm so sorry for not getting to this!! (Also i love the way you think, Brian Quinn is everything)

Set After the Punishment Above

Warnings: Fem!Reader; Sal's Younger Sister Reader; Porn with Little Plot; Smut; SoftDom!Brian; Semi-Rough Sex; Bathroom Sex; Semi-Public Sex; Fingering; Oral (Fem Receiving); Dirty Talk (idk man); You almost get caught; Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it people); He doesn't pull out; Soft Fluffy Brian at the End

Summary: After Brian's punishment, you couldn't help to notice how good he looked all sweaty and hot. One thing leads to another, and you finally get to know your brother's best friend a little more personally.

You couldn't believe this was happening. One second, Brian and your brother had come out of their punishment, the next, you were pinned against the wall as Brian had his fingers inside of you inside the bathroom on set.

You could smell the hot sweat radiating off of his body as he kissed and bit your neck, leaving marks that you would have to find out how to cover later. One hand was covering your mouth, the other had its long, thick fingers inside of you, stretching you out, and making you feel incredible.

You moaned against his palm, trying to close your thighs as he got you closer and closer to your release.

"You close? Hmm? I've barely even done anything and your already crumbling sweetheart," Brian mumbled into your neck.

All you could do was moan in agreement as he thrusted his fingers faster inside you, his thumb beginning to circle your clit. He slowly started to kiss down your neck, towards your collar bone, and down to your chest, leaving a wet trail down your skin. He looked up at you, his normally chocolaty brown eyes dark. The way he was smirking into your skin made you clench even harder around his fingers.

"I'm gonna let go, but you have to promise to be quiet. Can you do that, Sweetheart?" Brian spoke into your chest, his eyes never leaving yours.

You quickly nodded your head, and he let go of your mouth. He got onto his knees, his fingers still plunged into you. He licked his lips and removed his thumb from your clit, quickly placing his mouth on the sensitive nerve instead. You had to bite your lip to keep you from moaning out. Brian gripped your thigh like his life depended on it. You gripped his hair, slightly pulling it, forcing him to grunt into your wet pussy.

You were so close, you were practically seeing stars. He inserted a third finger into you, hitting that mushy spot inside of you that caused your knees to collapse. You had to shove your hands against your mouth to stop you from crying out in pleasure as you soaked Brian's chin. His fingers and mouth slowed down, giving you time to come down from your high.

As he stood up, he trailed his hands along your sides, slowly bunching your shirt up as he went. When he was fully standing, he slipped the shirt over your head and threw it onto the sink.

He leaned in and kissed you deeply as he unhooked your bra, throwing that onto the sink as well. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you couldn't help but whimper at the thought.

"You want more already? God, what did I do to deserve you, Sweetheart?" He said as he leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, forcing another whimper out of you. His hand reached up and took the other nipple in between his fingers, rubbing around it. He softly nipped your sensitive nipple between his teeth, his beard scratching your chest.

"I need you. Please- fuck," You muttered.

"What do you need, honey? Come on, tell me baby," Brian spoke, a smirk making it's way onto his face.

"Fuck me, Brian, please?" You said, looking down at him, your lips slightly parted.

"Since you said it so nicely..." Brian leaned down and pulled your pants, and panties, completely off from where they were around your ankles.

He stood up and gripped both of your legs, lifting you up and shoving you even harder against the cool, tiled wall.

It was then that he smiled at you, "Are you one hundred percent positive? We can still stop if you want."

"Brian, I will kill you if you stop now," You spoke, a giggle coming out as you joked.

He unzipped his pants, pulling down his boxers just enough to let his hardened cock escape. You licked your lips hungrily as he slid his tip in between your folds teasingly.

He thrusted into you slowly, first just his tip, then going a few inches farther every couple seconds, forcing you to moan. He kissed your lips hungrily to quiet you.

He finally bottomed out, grunting about how tight you were against your parted lips. You were panting into his mouth, and he was doing the same as he thrusted into you, quickening his pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin had to be heard from outside the bathroom, but you couldn't care less. Brian filled you up perfectly, stretching you out slightly and making you feel amazing. Your legs were gripping his waist as he hit that special spot inside you over and over again.

Just then, you heard a knock on the bathroom door. Brian's thrusts slowed, but didn't stop, and you could tell he was close. He shoved his hand against your mouth and motioned for you to be quiet.

"Yeah?" He yelled out to whoever was outside the bathroom.

"Brian? Have you seen Y/N? I'm her ride home and I can't find her anywhere. I'm gonna leave soon," Sal, your brother, spoke from the other side of the door, his irritancy at the situation clear in his voice.

Brian smirked and looked at you, taking a hand and slowly rubbing your clit before speaking again, "No man, haven't seen her. Have you checked the other bathrooms? Or the parking lot, maybe?"

"Yeah, I guess I'll check again. If she isn't there I'm going to have to leave, can you make sure she gets a ride home if I don't?" Sal said.

"Yeah, I'll let her ride with me man," Brian said, winking at you.

God you couldn't wait to get home with this man.

As soon as it was quiet from the other side of the door, Brian sped up, his dick twitching inside of you. You clenched around him.

"You liked that didn't you? Liked me fucking you right in front of your brother? Right where we could get caught? God, you're so fucking hot," Brian muttered into your skin as he left marks on your chest.

Brian was pounding into you at this point, the sound of skin against skin and a wet squelching increasing every second. He took his hand away from your mouth, and put it around your throat softly gripping it. You scratched his back, surely leaving marks, as he got you to your breaking point.

"Bri- I'm gonna-" You couldn't even finish your sentence.

"I know baby, me too. Me too," Brian grunted.

After a few more thrusts, Brian came, his dick twitching as he filled you up with his come. The full sensation and the still-constant thrusting caused you to let go as you came, your wet and his come covering the length of his dick and the inside of your thighs.

He slowly pulled out, kissing your face, neck, and chest as he put you back on your feet. Your legs almost buckled out from underneath you immediately, and he caught you, chuckling.

Brian kissed your forehead, brushing your hair from your face. "Sorry sweetheart, didn't mean to fuck you that hard," Brian spoke against you, chuckling.

You laughed, finding your balance and the feeling in your legs. As he smiled at you and handed you your clothes, helping you get dressed, you could only think one thing: You can't wait for the ride home.

#brian quinn x reader #brian quinn smut #impractical jokers smut #smut

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1-800-cr33py · 8 months

Text

BREATHE

’’ Let’s try that again hm? “ Brian’s voice was low, teasing. You almost wanted to whine, to cry out in desperation.

But you couldn’t. Despite every fiber of your being telling you to as your lover’s hand crept back up the column of your throat. His hand was calloused, yet his fingers traced the muscle with a care only he could provide you. His hazel eyes studied your face, checking for any signs of discomfort, distress, anything; his eyes held a sadistic glint to them, he was enjoying this.

The power he had over you at this moment was absolutely exhilarating.

Brian laughed at the sight below him, in all honesty it was both pathetic and endearing. You, below him, watching him like he was God himself, like he hung the very stars for you and you only. This was how he liked you; pliant and obedient. Brian drug his thumb across your jaw, tracing shapes as he reveled in your breathless whines and squirming for any kind of friction to alleviate the burning ache between your legs. The sight of you brought a delighted groan from the man; doe-eyes watery from the previous edging he’d inflicted. Brian could almost feel sorry for you.

But he didn’t.

Because this was all your idea.

You trembled as you felt Brian’s free-hand slowly find its way down your body, squeezing at your curves every so often before finding purchase between your shaking thighs. Practically keening as your hips jerked upward to meet his palm, which brought a sharp ‘tsk’ from your lover. The hand around your throat tightened, cutting off the sweet air you’d be gasping for. Mouth agape, eyes already rolling into your skull as Brian plunged his fingers into your weeping core, wetness dripping down you thighs and onto the sheets below. Brian’s eyes never left your face as your hips jerked, hands wrapped around his wrists as you begged. Your sweet voice bouncing off the dark walls.

“ Sweet baby, always trying to please me hm? Yeah, I know, feels so good. “ Brian rasped, curling his fingers, effectively drawing a squeal from your kiss-swollen lips. You face flushed. Though the moment was short-lived, your eyes bulged as your lover withdrew his fingers.

“ Poor babydoll. You never said you wanted to cum tonight. “

Author’s Comments: Heyo! Mod 800 here, 888 is busy tonight so this is really really rushed as smut isn’t my forte so I do thoroughly apologize. I don’t really like this so if it seems edited later on it was most likely 888 (god bless her I love her sm)

#1800cr33py #reqs open #1800cr33py’s kinktober #kinktober 2023 #breathplay #brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #marble hornets x reader #marble hornets headcanons #marble hornets smut #marble hornets #hoodie x reader #the hooded man #mod800

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purpleberiii · 5 months

Text

"Worship and Wine"

☆Prompt: In which you worship the gods of Olympus and one in particular takes a liking to you and ends up showing herself one day while worshipping.

☆Warnings: Reader drinking wine from Cabernet's body, Slight smut? Cabernet being referred to as Dionysus, two versions of Cabernet (goddess and human)

The candle light illuminated a perfect glow on the Altar you had in a secret room of your house. There is where you give offerings to your gods and goddesses; Aphrodite, Athena, Apollo, Hera and finally, Dionysus. Despite worshipping many, you felt a strong connection to Dionysus, and you came to love wine as much as he did, and loved going to parties and hooking up with others.

That still didn't stray you away from your gods, you worshipped them each with equal amount of devotion and passion and you can say that they've always responded to your prayers. You had your bowl of apples and grapes, along with several different bottles of wine lined off on Dionysus' Altar. As you closed your eyes to pray, you felt light headed, as if you were going to pass out and before you knew it, you did.

Some time later, you woke up, slightly puzzled as to why you were in your room rather than the Altar. As your eyes slowly opened, you could make out the glimpse of a woman, sitting on your couch you had in your room. Her smooth creamy legs rested on one another and a few empty bottles of what looked like wine had laid on the floor. You slowly looked up to find a beautiful woman, her skin pale as snow whilst her hair red as blood.

She started at you intently, whilst sipping on a glass that had wine in it, judging by the smell. "Staring at a goddess is quite rude I must say," her eyes never leaving you.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house? Why are you drinking my wine? What's going on?!"

She chuckled as she finally got up and walked towards you. She was tall, extremely tall and you immediately knew that she wasn't human. What was she really? "You've been a loyal follower of my brothers, sisters and I. I was sent to reward you for that."

Half of what she was saying is the truth, the lie was that she was never sent by anyone, she just came on her own. Now that you really thought of it, she did finish out a few bottles of wine, and she did have a bitten apple in her hand when you woke up.

"Dionysus?! Lady Dionysus?!" A smile crept on her face.

"You sound surprised."

"Of course I'd be! I have a literal goddesses in my presence!" You jumped out of bed. "Can I get you anything? Any wine or so?"

"It's no need. I've already finished out the remaining of your wine but I did save one for something special." A shiver ran down your spine as she said that.

She took a seat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs. "You are looked over by all of us whom you worship. Your prayers were answered but you still worship us. Most humans would immediately forget about us once they have what they need. Why?"

"Well Lady Dionysus, I guess I'm not like most humans. You all gave me what I wanted and I'm truly indebted to you which is why I will continue to worship you all until my last breath."

She seemed pleased with your answer. "Only one wish hasn't been answered."

"Yes. But I do believe it will someday. I mean..I haven't done anything to anger Lady Aphrodite right?"

She laughed at your question and frightened state. "No you didn't. You will get it, however, I'd like to do something with you. Would you be up to the task?"

"Anything," your eyes held determination in them. Dionysus smiled and collected the bottle of wine. She slowly took off her dress, not fully. She left the top half of her body uncovered while the bottom was covered. "W-what are you doing Lady Dionysus?"

"This will help you find the one you are looking for." She popped opened the bottle and poured wine all over her body. She leaned back with a smile. "Come, drink wine from my body."

You felt like your Brian had stopped working. Did she really mean drink it from her bare body. "I-isn't it inappropriate to do so?"

"Not if I permit it."

You took a deep breath before walking towards her slowly. She uncrossed her legs so you could stand between them. You slowly leaned down and your trembling tongue lapped her the wine running down her neck. She leaned her head back and sighed.

Wine had never tasted so good in your life and you find yourself wanting more. You licked her clean, not letting a single drop fall. "Good girl. Did you like the way it tasted?"

"I did. Thank you for the opportunity."

"Of course. Now I must get back." She put on her dress while you watched her with an unexplainable expression.

"Do you have to go? Can't you stay?"

"Oh my sweet girl. I do. I cannot linger on earth here for much longer but do know this... I'll always be watching over you, as well as my sisters and brothers. We thank you for not letting us down."

In Dionysus presence, you felt a much more safe and protected and that connection you felt grew stronger, until you realised that you loved your goddess. Even though you saw her for the first time, you wanted to see her forever.

Sensing your uneasiness, Dionysus gently left a kiss to your forehead. "Farewill, sweet one."

Before you know it, only a puff of white smoke was in your room and just like that, she was gone.

You curled up on your bed as tears escaped your eyes, the feeling of longing hitting you hard but it hit her harder.

A/n:

Imma post a part 2 of this. This is my first Greek based story ever so I hope you liked it.

#cabernet franc #cabernet x reader #cabernet franc x reader #path to nowhere cabernet #ptn cabernet #ptn cabernet x reader

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endyark · 3 months

Text

to add to the post i reblogged, i just want to say this

the slenderverse fandom has a huge problem with sexualizing the characters, and more importantly the actors. ive seen it mostly with evan jennings, tim sutton, and brian haight. people forget that THESE CHARACTERS ARE PLAYED BY REAL FUCKING PEOPLE. you can say you find them attractive, you can, just for the love of god don’t sexualize them publicly

why the fuck do you think most of the slenderverse cast members and creators don’t associate with their fandoms much anymore if at all? why do you think they post much less frequently? WHY DO YOU THINK BRIANS INSTAGRAM IS PRIVATE? because this fandom has such a big problem with being overly sexual with characters played by actual human beings with significant others who are, very rightfully and obviously, UNCOMFORTABLE

come on, guys. yall can do better. do whatever you want privately with your friends but please don’t make this shit public

don’t mean to be aggressive but seriously. stop

#genuinely makes me so upset seeing people be gross to them #have you seen the weird shit put in tim and brians tumblr asks #jesus christ get a grip #rant #text post #slenderverse #emh #everymanhybrid #marble hornets #mh #evan jennings #tim sutton #brian haight

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Do You Know What Shovels Dig? Graves Part 6

And this is it. The last part of a short little idea that kept me up all night that turned into this beautiful story that is one of my favorite stories I’ve written.

WIP Wednesday allowed me to finish this up for you before I went to bed. I got a job that I will be starting on Monday which will slow my writing down some, but I will still try to keep up on the stories I have. I love writing these stories for you guys and wish I could make it my job. But alas, capitalism.

Also this is for all the people that wished to see what the Corroded Coffin boys would say and for all the people that wanted to have Erica actually apologize. I was like “if you guys can get her to apologize, great, because I couldn’t!” But then I realized that there was someone who could get her to apologize. Robin. So here you go.

Thanks to that anon for the barbecue idea. That’s here too.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

After Max, Lucas, and Erica had gone, Steve sat with Eddie, El, and the Byers boys.

“I think all in all,” Eddie began, “those were some pretty good apologies.”

The other three nodded.

Steve sighed. “It doesn’t change the fact that it took an actual honest to god intervention to get them realize they were wrong.”

“No it doesn’t,” El said. “Which is why I told them that they’ve been grounded from Steve for two weeks.”

“Uh...” Eddie said, “what now?”

“It means,” Will explained. “That if they want to hang out with him they have to do on his terms, not theirs. No begging for rides, no stopping by for food and then bailing, and just no taking advantage of Steve.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, guys. I mean it. It was nice knowing that there were people that weren’t going to threaten me and took this whole seriously.” He gave Jonathan’s knee a squeeze. “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t stopped by. But I’m really glad you did.”

Jonathan squeezed his shoulder in response. “Me, too. I hope they learned their lesson.”

“That is the hope,” Will said.

Steve scratched his cheek. “Why don’t we have barbecue at your guys’s place after the two weeks and see how they fair?”

Will brightened. “I like that idea. That way if they are still having problems we can talk to them about it.”

“Do you think your mom will go for it?” Eddie asked.

Jonathan grinned. “Hell yeah, she would. She’s been wanting to show off her new house to everyone for awhile now.”

El grinned too. “We have a plan, then!”

Steve was pleased to see that the Party actually started to make actual changes in how they treated him.

Lucas invited him out to play basketball at the rec center and biked himself there. Steve offered him a ride home after, which he happily took as they were both sweating afterwards.

Dustin made sure that Steve knew he was joking when he was making comments. And Steve made sure to snark right back unless it really bothered him and then they would talk about it.

Robin and he had a longer talk about the gay vs bisexual thing. She admitted that she had been wrong to assume that because Steve was bisexual that it would be Eddie getting his heartbroken and not Steve. She had some ingrained biases that she had to get over and was really sorry she didn’t have his back when he needed her to.

There were a lot of little changes but the final major change came a couple days after the intervention when Jeff, Gareth, and Brian all walked into Family Video together to properly apologize to Steve.

“Hey, Buckley,” Jeff said, “can you give us some space?”

Robin straightened her spine and wiggled her shoulders. “Steve has had apology monitors to ensure that it’s an actual apology, and as Eddie or Will or Jonathan aren’t here, it’s going to have to be me.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Apparently there are certain people who think I’m too nice,” he explained to the other boys, “and let people get away things that I shouldn’t so they took it upon themselves to be my guard dogs to make sure it’s an actual apology.”

“Have they met you?” Gareth asked, incredulous. “You’re the original bitch.”

Steve laughed again. “Who let Tommy and Carol walk all over me. I tend to roll over for friends.”

They blinked and then nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” Brian said. “That tracks.”

Steve just smiled. “So how can I help you fine gentleman today? May I interest you our latest releases?”

That got a couple chuckles out of them.

“No, man,” Jeff said, “we’re here to talk about the whole shovel talk shit.”

Steve leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “You do know I don’t fault you guys for that, right? You guys are Eddie’s best friends. I didn’t really fault Wayne, either. But the execution of that one...” he winced when Robin gasped. “Poor choice of words, sorry.”

“What he do?” Jeff asked.

“Borrowed Chief Hopper’s shotgun and cleaned while we talked,” Steve said with a grimace.

“That ain’t right...” Brian said, shaking his head.

Gareth looked at Jeff and then back to Steve. “Yeah, but here’s the thing about our shovel talk...”

“It wasn’t necessary,” Jeff finished for him. “We’ve had time to get to know you before you and Eddie started dating. We knew that you two would do anything for each other even without being a couple.”

Brian nodded. “It’s just...something we thought best friends did. The whole ‘break his heart, we’ll break your knees’ kind of thing.”

Robin looked down at her feet and cleared her throat.

Jeff sighed dramatically. “Please tell me she wasn’t one of the ones that gave you the shovel talk. Because that’s messed up, man.”

Steve looked over at her and then back up to Jeff. “Yeah, she knows.”

“By the way,” Gareth said, waving his hands, “Eddie doesn’t know we’re here. So I don’t want thinking this is a forced apology or anything.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

Brian cleared his throat. “I mean he did threaten to kill off our characters if we were mean to you, but he didn’t tell us to apologize or anything.”

Steve laughed. “That sounds more like the Eddie we all know and love.”

“But we would have come anyway,” Jeff said. “Because our shovel talk added to a heaping pile of bullshit that you didn’t need. And definitely didn’t deserve.”

“So this is us saying we’re sorry that everyone you knew decided that you were going to break Eddie’s heart,” Gareth said. “And that we made you feel like you weren’t worthy of dating Eddie. Because you are, man. Like seriously the only guy Eddie’s brought around that we actually want to be friends with.”

“Hell yeah,” Brian said. “You’re so cool and you love to take care everyone. We’d want you to stick around because we like you, too.”

Steve’s eyes blurred and he cleared his throat. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

They all came up and gave Steve a hug, blocking him from outside viewers so he could cry. Once they were sure he was going to be okay, they let him go.

They said their goodbyes and walked out, leaving behind a stunned Robin and grateful Steve.

Just before the barbecue started Robin brought over Erica to Steve by holding her ear.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Erica was yelling as she was half dragged over to him.

Robin sat her down and said, “I learned that this little hobgoblin didn’t properly apologize for her shovel talk. And Eddie let her get away with it.”

“God, what’s your problem?” Erica huffed up at Robin. “They understood. Why can’t you?”

Robin grinned. “Green ooze, little girl. Green ooze.”

Erica’s jaw snapped shut. If Sherlock Holmes had his phrase for humbling him when he got too proud, this was Erica’s. She was going to drink it before it turned out to be acid. Like literal acid.

She turned to Steve. “Shovel talks aren’t right and no one should be giving anyone shovel talks because it’s a pointless exercise in latent hostility. So I’m sorry I contributed to an archaic practice used by bullies and abusers. I won’t do it ever again.”

Erica looked up at Robin, who gave her the thumbs up. Erica hopped up and ran off to play.

Steve blinked up at Robin in shock. “Like how the hell did you manage that?”

Robin just batted her eyelashes and said nothing, walking away with a whistle on her lips and a swagger in her step.

Eddie came up to him in shock. “Did I just witness an actual apology from Lady Applejack?”

Steve nodded mutely.

“I think I’m more afraid of Robin, now,” Eddie muttered and Steve could only agree.

Eddie was starting to see a trend. One that made him laugh the third time it happened.

The first, though? Claudia Henderson.

“Eddie!” she greeted warmly. “I haven’t seen you around much. How have you been?”

Eddie smiled at her. Even before the Upside Down, Claudia was one Eddie’s favorite people. She was bright and happy and loved her wacky son with all her heart. Something that Eddie could absolutely get behind. “I’ve just been busy. But name the date, and I’ll be there.”

She smiled back. “That’s sweet, dear. You know you have an open invitation. But why don’t you and your uncle come over for Sunday dinner. Steve has already said yes for himself.”

“Sounds great, Mrs Henderson,” Eddie agreed.

“How are you and Steve?” she asked gently. “Dusty was telling me that Steve hadn’t been doing well lately.”

“We’re good,” Eddie said bobbing his head. “Things got a little rough a couple weeks back, but we’re on firmer ground now.”

She patted his cheek. “You really need to be taking better care of that boy. He looks tough on the outside, but he needs someone who can take care of him, yeah?”

Eddie smiled. “Of course. Taking extra good care of our Stevie is my number one priority.”

She nodded and went to go make sure Dusty was eating enough.

The next one was Karen Wheeler of all people. Ted was suspiciously but expectedly absent. She came up to Eddie and introduced herself.

“You must be Eddie!” she said with smile that reminded him of that Dustin Hoffman film.

“Oh hello,” he replied a little confused.

“Nancy has told me all about you,” Karen said with that same smile. “She’s always going on about how Steve finally found the person he was meant to be with and what a great person you are.”

Eddie smiled back. “Nancy’s a great girl.”

She sighed a little, her smile turning into something a little more genuine. “I miss having Steve over. Jonathan is great boy for my Nance, but Steve sparkled where Jonathan only shines.”

“I won’t argue with you on that one,” Eddie said. “But then Jonathan isn’t my type.”

She swatted at him playfully. “All I’m trying to say if that Steve is a good boy and deserves only the best. So you’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” It was sweet and sincere, but a hint of steel. And suddenly Eddie knew where Nancy got her backbone of steel from.

“Always,” Eddie promised, hand over heart.

“See that you do,” Karen said and wandered off to compare brownie recipes with Joyce.

The third was a squirrelly looking balding guy with thick glasses and far too knowing stare. He had come with Chief Hopper and had spent most of the night watching Eddie. He had asked Nancy who he was and she said his name was Murray Bauman and he was a conspiracy theorist. Which really didn’t clear anything up for him, but this rag-tag group of rebels and fighters were all a little weird.

He wandered over to Eddie and looked him up and down. He said in a clear voice, “I have seen things you wouldn’t believe, I’ve done things that would make your hair curl on end,” he stopped for a moment, “make it curlier and I know where the bodies are hidden. If you hurt Steve, you’ll be the next one.”

“Murray!” Hopper yelled. “What the hell was that? Why would you say that?”

Murray blinked at Hopper and then tilted his head. “Because we love Steve?” He says long and slow like he’s talking to a stupid person.

Eddie burst out laughing.

“No, no,” he said between giggles. “It’s fine Hopper. It’s all fine!”

Murray looked him over again and then nodded. “Yes, you’ll do.” And then he wandered off back into the house as if he had done what he had come to do.

A few minutes later Steve came up and sat next to Eddie. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know what that was.”

Eddie giggled and bumped their shoulders together. “It’s fine, sweetheart. It’s actually kinda adorable.”

Steve frowned. “What is?”

“That it’s the moms plus Murray here,” Eddie said jerking his chin in the direction Murray had wandered off to, “that are the most protective of you. Both Mrs Wheeler and Henderson have told me under no certain terms am I allowed to hurt you and that I’m supposed to take care of you.”

Steve blinked and searched the crowd for Claudia first. She spotted him looking at her and she waved at him. Steve smiled and waved back. Then he searched for Karen. She didn’t look at him directly, but merely winked and went back to talking to Wayne about something he couldn’t quite hear.

“Oh.”

“But don’t you worry, darlin’,” Eddie purred. “I’m gonna take very good care of you.”

Steve kissed him, slow and deep. “And I will always take care of you, Eds.”

“Perfect.”

It really was.

***

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