#hello?? that’s morbid?? I suppose fitting.. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

industria-adastra · 2 years

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the floor is breathing, a tell-tale heart beats and beats and beats

Summary: Athanasia de Alger Obelia was dead. Yet thoughts of her continued to pervade Claude's mind. He could not escape them. She stayed at the back of his mind, always, undying.

How ironic, that he only thought of her when she was forever gone.

Note: HELLO SUCKERS, it's time for more LP! Claude angst where he realises he messed up big time and angsts about his poor life choices.

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She did not speak as she was led to the gallows. Her once burnished gold hair was now dirtied and bedraggled, her eyes stripped of the unique magic falsely claiming her as his flesh and blood. They were pink now. A pink that, with her downcast eyes, was about as cheerful as a funeral. Fitting, Claude supposed, seeing as today was her own funeral.

The people below cried for blood; blood and death for the target of their blame. The lowly Second Princess who so hatefully harmed their beloved Jewel of Obelia, their most lovely First Princess. A vicious sort of mob mentality that swept through like a tidal wave, culminating in the worst of names, jeers of all kinds, and objects of all kinds being thrown at her.

And even if a stone or three battered her bruised body, would anyone really care?

And as her neck was placed in the noose, as the trapdoor was pulled away, as her legs dangled and kicked and her life was slowly choked away, bit-by-bit… Claude watched through all of it, unable to take his eyes off this morbid sight.

Wasn’t this all he ever wanted? To watch her crumble through his fingers until she was dust and ash to be swept away by the wind?

Her eyes neither stared at him accusingly nor pled with him one last time. They were hollow, seeing past him, looking for someone else as she died—slowly, agonizingly.

And it seemed as if she found them, whomever they were.

For there was a smile upon her lips as she finally died.

That girl he despised—a strange girl claiming to be his daughter, Athanasia, her name so ironic—was now most certainly, truly, dead. No more would he cast his eyes upon her, only to be assaulted by nothing but inexplicable pain, to be reminded of—?

Of—

Someone, but who?

Her low-born mother? Someone who he couldn’t even be bothered to remember? No, no. Perhaps of another point in time, of another child with gold for hair and sapphires for eyes—the most pathetic boy of them all. Always wallowing in his sorrows, all-too naive, unable to understand when he was never truly wanted.

He ordered the guards to seal up the Ruby Palace.

Claude started to see her, hear her, everywhere.

It began, like all things, slowly, small—insignificant until the dominos all fell down.

First, it was in his dreams, scattered fragments of memories where she was always, always unhappy. Cowering before him, two steps behind whenever Jennette invited her to join along their walks. Tea times where she’d speak as little as possible, giving either non-committal or neutral answers to anything and everything asked of her.

Second, a ghost—hallucinations?—appearing before him during the night, sometimes sorrowful and something vengeful and angry, screaming incoherently. Most of the time she merely ignored him, fingers opting to trace the outlines of items in his room, or to stare at the portrait of Penelope in his room.

Claude always needed to see Jennette soon after any of those ghostly visits.

Third, his mind, conjuring snippets of conversation he was sure had never happened or never paid attention to.

(“Father, may I…”)

(“I hope Papa likes me thiiis much!”)

(“Your Majesty, I hope you were well…”)

(“I love you, Papa!”)

Fourth, and finally, imagining her with him. Imagining her at his side when he looked through papers, imagining her laughing alongside Jennette as they sat together for tea, imagining her amongst a sea of roses as she beamed and imagining, imagining, imagining.

Imagining she was still here.

There was no body to look at—he had ordered for it to be disposed of immediately after her execution.

Even if he ordered for it to be found once more, it had likely already decayed. As skilled as he was in magic, the ability to regrow flesh required picture-perfect images of what you wished to regrow—healing had never been his best talent. It was something even the most skilled of Sycansian priests and priestesses were unable to truly perfect.

There were no memory stones or official portraits of her. Nothing to remember her by, nothing to redefine the images in his mind’s eye. Athanasia had been insignificant, unimportant, and unwanted in every single way.

Still, Claude continued to search for something. Yet when nothing came, he decided to look into her rooms in the Ruby Palace.

(Desecrating another memory now, are we?)

It was clear that no one had taken care of the Ruby Palace in a long time.

Dust coated countless items, cracks ran through walls, and most—if not all—of the ornate decorations he remembered were no longer there.

As he walked through the halls, Claude couldn’t help but wonder how she grew up here. Thoughts of a small child running around flashed through his mind.

It didn’t take him long to find the door to her room. Standing before it, he couldn’t help but hesitate before he entered. Pain started to bloom at the back of his head.

He ignored it, choosing to take a deep breath instead and move forward.

Opening it, he found a room bursting with the personality of someone who once was. Books lay scattered across the floors and the table, some pages yellowed and well-worn, and others still fresh with the scent of newness. The air was thick with dust, only further highlighted by the sunlight peeking through half-shut curtains. Her bed had been left in a state of disarray—there had been no need to make the bed of someone who was soon to be dead. He stood, staring, taking it all in.

Claude didn’t know what would happen if he entered. Some sudden realization, perhaps?

The only realization he found was that he had become exactly like his father.

Sometimes, in his dreams, she was happy.

He was obsessed, and yet he couldn’t understand why.

Claude ended up returning to her room as much as he could, hoping to find the answer to why. Was it hidden within the folds of her simple clothes? Hidden between the well-worn pages of countless books, both fiction and non-fiction alike? Hidden within the words of her numerous pieces of writing?

Why was he so adamant in searching for records of a girl that he had ordered to be executed? Why did he start to care now? Now when she was dead, now when she was long gone, unable to ever remind him of—!

His body shook, wracked with unimaginable pain as his head pounded and his mind tore itself apart, slipping in pieces to a jigsaw he never realized was incomplete.

Claude could hear the sound of something shattering, it ringing and echoing in his ears.

And he remembered.

Diana, Athanasia (his lover, his daughter, both of whom he failed and killed with his own hands).

Shaking, prone on the floor, Claude could only try to gasp for air as the memories tried to drown him without respite. Mind hazing over in pain as he clawed at the floor of his room. The cold marble stung against his heated skin, starting to slicken as his eyes burned. There was salt on his tongue and he couldn’t breathe because he had killed Diana and he had ordered for Athanasia’s death—sweet, lonely, tragic Athanasia who he had killed without the bat of an eye for Jennette and him. Athanasia who had been the only living piece of Diana left in this wretched, wretched world that only took and took and took. Athanasia whom he tore down with his hands for really, really—

He was the one who had been stupid enough to let go.

Lilian York had not had many resources to create art with—being the nanny to a forgotten princess tended to weaken bonds between noble family members.

(They still accepted her cold body back into their mausoleum, though)

But even so, she had tried her very best to capture Athanasia’s image as best as she could, with little sketches here and there within countless pocket notebooks. Sketches of her eyes, crystalline and shining in a way he’d never seen. Sketches of her happy, joyful, deep in concentration studying. Sketches of her at every age.

The final sketch had been the both of them, happy, living in the countryside together (far away from him). A happy fantasy that never came to be.

Lilian York had loved his daughter, being her only parent when neither he nor Diana could be there for Athanasia.

Lilian had loved Diana too, hadn’t she? In her own way, she had shown it, with kind friendship and ardent admiration. Never demanding and sullen and rude like Claude, never abandoning her like he had.

And unlike Claude, Lilian had managed to move on.

Claude took to art. His hands were unused to drawing others, creating only strange blobs that never captured Athanasia as she was. Still, he tried, over and over again, attempting to replicate an unparalleled image of Diana’s (his) daughter. With only Lilian’s sketches as a reference though, he never managed to truly capture that spark of life and happiness that Lilian had so easily drawn over and over again. How could he though? When his only frame of reference had been a girl who feared him as much as she loved him. A girl who probably hated him in her final moments.

But she was Diana’s daughter, and Diana’s daughter could not have been any less forgiving than her, right?

Claude also took to living in the Ruby Palace instead, cradled by the scent of death and the memories of Athanasia imprinted within the structure. Her room and her possessions always stayed clean and pristine—Claude saw to that himself, unwilling to trust servants to not attempt to desecrate her one and only memorial. The first and only time he ordered for servants to clean it, he’d caught a maid, that arrogant wretch, attempting to smuggle away Athanasia’s precious few bits of jewelry.

He had killed her on the spot, sparks of magic that lashed out and flayed her alive.

Claude even started to refuse to see Jennette. His brother’s child, as endearing in that ignorantly stupid and sheltered, naive way of hers, was no longer as appealing to spend time with. Diana’s child, though long dead, still called to him, pulling him into that same one-track mindset he had with Diana.

He started to dream of better things. Of the three of them together, as one loving family. Of Athanasia, small and cute, always beside him. Of a life that was so much more than whatever he was doing now.

Still, as time passed, his body grew all the more weaker. His magic too was fading, slipping intermittently in its strength. Oh, how Anastacius would laugh had he seen him now. His low-born little brother, he who limps, wasting away when he was once so powerful. Powerful enough to tear out his filthy heart and crush all those who opposed him because Claude simply had the power to do so.

How the mighty fell.

And yet, deep down, somehow, Claude wished it would all decay faster. Faster, faster, so he could slip away to those strange yet shadowed dreams, beautiful and vibrant though they were.

(Sometimes, Claude thought he heard Athanasia breathing next to him in his slumber.)

#my writing #who made me a princess #wmmap #sbapod #suddenly became a princess one day #claude de alger obelia #athanasia de alger obelia #angst #fanfiction #character death #character study #lovely princess #one of my favourite things to do is make claude sad because why not #he's a perfect fit for the angst pot #blending him up and spicing up the dish with his tears #tw: death #i think these are all the tags i need but feel free to ping me or smth if i need to add more #wmmap au #au

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sleepless-strawberry · 1 year

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[WP] The year is 2067 and you are the last human after an atomic war, leaving the planet with permanent nuclear winter. Today- aliens have come here to “invade”.

The snow crunches beneath my feat with each heavy footstep. I walk. Have been for a while now. But I keep walking. The special hazmat suit I don appears grey, despite the fact that it was once white. Or well perhaps it could be white but there's no way of knowing that anymore, now is there. On account of... I look up to the sky or at least where I reckon the sky is. I just look up then. Grey. More grey. Oh and look what do we have there? Could it be? Yep, that's right even more grey. All around me is a hazy expanse of grey. A morbid mixture of snow, ruble, dust and ash.

CRUNCH! I spin my head around and draw the bow in my hands. My eyes scan the scene. Where are you? I know you're here. There you are! SWOOSH! Got'cha! I approach my prey and quickly finish it off. These guys were once pill bugs I think. Or something similar. They certainly grew to say the least, they went from being able to fit on the tip of my finger to now being the size of small dogs. I pluck my arrow out of the exoskeleton of the creature once called by others as ash mites. Cutting it up with my knife before storing it into a compartment in my "grey" special hazmat suit. Whirrrrrr. A small sound. A bit annoying to be honest. My suit notifies that my food has been proceeded with a curt ding. Bon appétit. I suck on the straw that emerged out of a compartment next to my mouth. Hmm. I don't mean to be cynical but even for an ash mite this is pretty disgusting.

Zzzzz. A sound. One I haven't heard before so probably dangerous. I draw my bow again and crouch my body, readying for a confrontation. ZZZZZZZ. It gets louder by the second. But what could it be? A humming? A buzzing of some mutant flying insect? Or perhaps, something more... mechanical?! As I'm mid thought it strikes me. A flash of pure, white, blinding light. My eyes feel a burn on par with any other horrific pain I've lived through. Tears burst around my eyes as I clutch them shut tight. Dropping my bow and dropping to the ground I cover my helmet under the ashy snow. I start to calm down but I think that's it for my eyes. At least for now. A tear find it way to my lip and my tongue instinctively licks it up. Nevermind. Guess I have gone blind then. The tear was... awfully metallic in taste... blood. Dammit.

Crunch. crunch. crunch. crunch. They stopped. Two of them whoever they are. "@£&$%". Foreigners? Doesn't sound like any language or accent I recognise. Perhaps they're from some lesser known part of Asia? "&*$@?" They're asking something? I suppose I'll try to communicate... probably should stand up first. I start to slowly stand up to some panicked voices to which I respond by slowing down further which seems to calm their nerves. "Hello, I'm sorry I don't speak your language. But do you perhaps know english? Français? Español? Русский? Deutsch?" I wait for a reply but there's no verbal response. Instead what follows is the sound of clicking and digital beeps. Boy am I jealous of their technology. Apart from my suit I've fully gone medieval. Still though, I'm glad I met some other people even if they've accidentally blinded me and there's somewhat of a language barrier between us. Oh well, I doubt they'll try to hurt me or anything, if they wanted to they'd probably would have done so already... god, I sound real depressing right about now, don't I?

"Hello" a mechanical voice pulls me out of my thoughts. Siri, is that you? The voice continuous "are you a human?" I pause, who else could I be? Some evolved rat or cockroach that became bipedal and developed speech? "Yes, I am a human." Another pause. More beeping and some grumbles between the two foreigners. Then the mechanical voice starts again "Where are all the other humans?" What the hell? What sort of bunker must these two have been living under to miss all that happened. "Well apart from us three... I'm pretty sure everyone else died." Once again a pause. It's getting pretty annoying. More grumbles. More beeps. Finally the mechanical voice "We are not humans."

Huh. That is certainly... something. The voice continues "We have arrived as scouts to declare that we would begin the invasion and enslaving of your species." Huh. How... interesting. I was at a loss for words. Thoughts raced through my head. Or rather drifted. But I kept coming back to one. Would we have ended up like this, had these... aliens arrived any sooner?

Lady Fate surely is a cruel mistress. What twisted poetic irony it is that our saviours have arrived belatedly and in the form of conquerors from outer space. I couldn't help but laugh.

Apparently the aliens knew of the concept of laughter as after some more beeps the voice asked "Why are you laughing human? Your species appears to be gone and you are being enslaved?" I kept laughing a bit longer. After all it was a rather funny joke. Finally I gave them an answer "no reason."

And with that I dashed. "@£&$&$@^!!!" Panicked screams from the aliens. To be expected. But they didn't last long. The rusty machetes that used to cling to my hips ensured of that. Now those machetes were ensuring that the aliens were minced meat. No need to take risks with a biology I've never encountered before. But based off of the feeling as I tore through their flesh they seemed rather "normal".

Why? Why had I killed these aliens? That question has two answers. Long and short. Let's start with long. God knows how many years ago now but it couldn't have been more than say... 30 years ago. I was the president. Of a great nation. The United States of America. My predecessors had failed to keep tensions between countries within reason. But that never stopped me. I did everything I could or couldn't to keep my country and it's citizens safe. And even with the collapse of peace and the beginning of the Third World War. I kept trying. I kept trying to keep USA on the map. Even if it meant removing other countries and enemies off of the face of the world. I am the last president of the United States of America. I am Elijah Riley Fisher! And I will protect these lands from any threat! Even mother f*cking aliens!

Ha-phew. Ha-phew. I took some breathes to calm myself.

Did I ever regret what I did?

Did I regret being partly responsible for kicking those events into motion?

Did I regret the fact that my action had resulted in all this chaos, destruction, death and finally extinction?

Did I regret murdering those two random aliens?

There's only one answer to all these question. I can't. I have walked too far down this path. There is no turning back. I do not have the right to lament my actions. For there is no other choice but to keep going. For those that have relied on me. For the United States of America. For the rest of the world. For the practically extinct human race.

For, and this is where the second shorter reason comes in, for no reason.

For their cannot possible be a reason that could be worth all that I, no we, have done.

That is why I must keep going.

Surviving.

Living.

Existing.

For no reason at all.

Just like my predecessors.

Just like all of humanity.

We will keep going down our own paths stubbornly for no reason at all.

#writing #writing prompt

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Faux Innocence

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having the reputation of the innocent angel in the group, one could never imagine Y/N being such a badass impostor and expert liar but here they have found themselves fooled by the angel who wears that halo just for show.

Requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt Hello hun! Here’s the other request you sent me, I’m really sorry it’s been so long and you’ve had to endure such a long wait until it’s posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

“They’ll be done for in no time! Right, babe?“ I stick my foot out to the side, nudging Corpse’s leg.

There most certainly are pros and cons when it comes to sharing a gaming/streaming/recording room with me, and the whether the constant pestering is a good or a bad thing is still up in the air. I mean, yeah Corpse rolls his eyes every now when I do it, but I’ve also caught him smiling about it out of the corner of my eye. Bottom line, I do it to invite that almost childishly mischievous smirk on his face. That’s the ultimate reward.

And ok, yes, I’m also the one trying to peek over the barrier separating out computers to peek at his screen to see if he’s impostor or not, but he tolerates that bad habit of mine. Well, he sprays water my way or gently whacks me with a pillow, but I consider that toleration. It’s a playful little dynamic we have going on, one we don’t have to perform today since we’re impostors together.

I cannot recall a time that has happened before. In fact, I can say I’ve been paired up as impostors with everyone but Corpse. I personally think it’s a practical joke the game’s algorithm is pulling on us, seeing as how we’ve been dating for quite some time now. I mean, that’s the only way to explain this coincidence of never being impostors together.

Looking at the subject now, it may be hella beneficial for us considering no one would suspect us both to be impostors together. Everyone is in on this ‘misfortune’ of ours and it’s honestly hilarious but Corpse and I are about to rip them a new one, I just know it.

“Oh, definitely! I’m the risky half, but they’ll never suspect you so we’re 100% winning this.“ He replies, sending a wink my way. He’s vaguely surprised when I return it with a narrow-eyed look.

“What’s that supposed to mean ‘they’ll never suspect you‘? I’m a great impostor! Is that you questioning my skills I’m hearing?“ I raise an eyebrow, turning my attention back to the screen which displays Corpse and I alone in Electrical, pretending to be doing tasks and waiting on our first victims.

“No! No, not at all. Far from it. It’s just that you are...well, you know...you are you. No one would think you’re the one dishing out all these tactical kills. You always seem relatively interested in the game only to have fun and not to win and....“

“Look sweet and innocent.“ I cut him off, finishing his sentence, “Yeah, yeah, I get your theory.“ Suddenly, I hear Rae’s chipper voice approaching, talking to her chat, I’m assuming. This gives me a rather...interesting idea. With that in mind, I give Corpse a side-glance and a devilish smirk that’s promising trouble, “Let’s test it out, shall we?“

“Wha-?!“ Before Corpse can even say his question fully, Rae wanders into the room, cutting him off with a question of her own.

“Test what out?“ She asks, coming to stand between us, doing her own task.

I’m so sorry, Rae

Before anyone could fathom it, I swiftly kill Rae and report her body, all seemingly in the blink of an eye. Corpse hasn’t even fathomed half of this insanity when he hears an accusation being thrown right at him.

“Corpse, how could you?!“ I cry out, and damn - not to toot my own horn or anything - but I’m pulling off the ‘distressed friend-witness‘ act quite well. I bet Corpse would give me an impressed look or mouth ‘minx’ at me if he wasn’t staring at his screen with his mouth agape. “You were planning to blame it on me weren’t you?!“

“Wait...no! That’s not-It wasn’t me! I swear it wasn’t me!“ He finally finds his voice, croaking out desperate defenses, each cut off by a wheeze of something alike shocked laughter that almost gets me to break out in a fit of my own.

“Very convincing, buddy. He’s definitely innocent, you guys...“ Toast comments just as the ‘VOTED‘ sticker pops up above the icon of his avatar in the meeting.

“Right? How could you even think otherwise?“ Leslie backs him up, the sticker appearing on her icon as well.

“Guys! No, for real, it’s Y/N! I swear on Bingus it’s Y/N!“ He probably should’ve used something more convincing, not that it would’ve worked either way. I’m a ‘trustworthy‘, ‘innocent‘ and ‘honest‘ person, just like Corpse said. Aren’t I?

Mere seconds later, he’s shot off the ship, the screen confirming he indeed was an impostor, automatically getting the blame off me cause no impostor would be dumb enough to out their partner like that, lowering their chances at victory. I don’t consider that a dumb move though - I think it’s rather genius, actually.

“Don’t worry, Corpsie.“ I give him a wink in return to his death glare, his arms crossed over his chest, looking quite unamused. “I’m winning this one for you.“

We both know I can and I will. Of course I can when I’m given the advantage of faux innocence everyone falls for - in more ways than one, if you know what I’m saying *wink* *wink*

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pixla · 3 years

Note

hi hon! i adore your writing and i have a request for tommy: so you know that scene in the caves when alice breaks her leg and cindy has to like put the bone back into place? could that be with tommy x gn! reader instead? and both of them have a really really cute moment where the reader confesses how they never felt alive until they met and started dating tommy? they both survive and flashforward with fluffy smut pls?

Special thanks to the j-st-patricks-day and all my friends who helped with the process of writing this fic <3

broken bones and beating hearts

Tommy slater x nb!reader

Warnings: swearing, graphic descriptions of murder, graphic descriptions of injury (eg. Broken bones and stabbings/cuts), Possessed!Cindy, alice dies, Arnie dies, vomiting, fluff, pet-names, knocking out teeth, sex, unprotected sex, this au doesn’t fit with any of the other films (feel free to tell me if there’s any others)

Word count: 3.2k

POVC= point of view change

Tommy gripped your wrists pulling you out through the narrow cavern as it collapsed only seconds later. “Fuck!” You tucked your legs close to your body, trying to shake the feeling of Cindy's grip around your ankles. “What the fuck is happening?” You looked up as Tommy still held you close, you both too scared to move from the previous near death experience.

Everything was normal. You had all just ran out into the woods, you and Alice teasing Cindy about some stupid witchcraft book she had found in nurse lane’s office. But then Cindy decided to slash Alice and Arnie’s guts open with a machete.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!” You cried, bawling your hands into fists, wandering down what felt like endless hallways. You both soon realised that you had been going in a circle. It didn’t make any sense, it felt like another dimension or a mirror maze, where everything looked the same, maybe even was the same. “Y/N.” You turned your head to face tommy. “What?” He looked at you confused. “I didn’t say anything.”

You were going to shake it off as you just imagining it, but then you heard it again. “Y/N!” This time you knew it wasn’t Tommy, it was a woman. “Hello?!” You yelled out, hoping that someone had finally come to your rescue, but Tommy just continued to look at you like you were crazy.

You strayed from Tommy’s side following as the voice repeated your name. “Where are you going?” Tommy yelled after you as you wandered, not bothering to pay any attention to his questions.

You followed the voice, bending through the same corridors and hallways, not knowing where you’d end up. It was when you twisted round one corner you halted in your steps. It was a huge room, far larger than any of the ones you had previously found. But the greatest way it stood out was the mass in the centre of the room.

It was dark and fleshy, like clumps of meat thrown into a pile. You gasped as you stood closer gaining a better look at the thing. It was alive. It rose up and down almost like it was breathing and it thumped like a beating heart. With each whisper of your name you grew closer, drawn to it. You reached your hand out transfixed, but when your hand melted into its flesh, you froze.

It all flashed through your brain so fast. Cyrus Miller, ruby lane, billy baker…Cindy Berman. It was every single one of those shadyside phycos, even Cindy. It was all of the pain, all of the suffering and all of the evil. You lifted your hand, a thick slime dragging with. You backed up slowly, expecting to hit a wall. You were soon proved wrong when you felt your body fly backwards.

You cried out as you landed with a thud, Tommy finally catching up to you, peering over to find you clutching your leg in pain. “Shit, are you okay?!”

He had jumped down helping to lift you from the pit. You sobbed, tears running down your cheeks like a broken faucet, your hands clutching at His shirt. Tommy held you running his finger gently through your hair, shushing you softly as you buried yourself into his warmth.

Tommy gently slipped from your hold, leaning down to examine the damage. It was bad. So bad, you could practically see the bone protruding from the skin. You felt your gut wrench at the sight causing you to lean over beside you, regurgitating your dinner onto the cold cave floor. “Don’t look, okay? Just look at me.” Tommy leant over wiping your mouth with his jacket. You nodded slowly, trying your best to keep your eyes locked with Tommy’s despite how hard your morbid curiosity urged you to look down. Ripping his plaid jacket into strips he looked up at you. “We’re gonna get out of here. You’re gonna get out of here. No matter what I do, I’m gonna make sure I protect you, just like I always have.”

“I love you so much Tommy. I’ve never and never will love someone the way I do you.” You lean into him pressing your foreheads together. “I can’t lose you, okay?” He nods sympathetically, pressing a light kiss to the slope of your nose.

“Do you remember those dates we’d go on, out to the forest at night, and we’d just lay there, staring up through the cracks in the trees?” You nod. “I want you to think about that, okay? I want you to think about how many more we’ll go on once we get out of here.”

You hold a tight grip on his arm as he wipes away at the area. “I’m gonna have to put it back into place now.”

You pleaded with him, as the tears started again. “Please, no. Please just leave me here. Just go and find help okay? I can’t do it Tommy, I can’t do it”

“Hey, hey, hey. C’mon, look at me.” He places his hand on your cheek, tilting your head to look him in the eye. “You're gonna be fine, okay? You just gotta focus right now.” You nod timidly, the tears starting to slow.

He holds the bottom of your calf with one hand and your heel with the other. “Just count to three and I’m gonna do it, okay baby?” He looks up at you, his soft words lulling your anxiety. You bite your knuckle nervously, unsure as to how you should answer, but the look of trust in his eyes persuades you easily. “Okay.”

You breathe in. “One, two-” You let out a blood curdling scream as a large crack rung out, bouncing against the walls of the cave. Your fist gripped Tommy’s forearm tightly as you cried out a series of various curses. “You fucking asshole.” You whine out in pain, letting out an airy laugh trying to brighten your rather dull circumstances.

“You're okay baby.” You wince as he wraps the piece of fabric he had ripped from his jacket around your leg, tying it tight enough to hold you together for the moment. You grabbed Tommy’s shoulder as he wrapped his arm around your waist lifting you from the ground. You hiss as you feel your leg throb from the sudden movement. “Do you think you’re able to stand?” Tommy watches as you wobble trying to stay grounded. You nod. “Yeah.” You had no choice and you both knew it, if you wanted to live, you’d have to.

You both started your journey, finally entering a new environment as you trudged deeper into the earth of Shadyside. Why did these tunnels even exist? The intricate details of the maze made it easy to come to the conclusion that they were man made, but by who? Not once had you ever heard of these tunnels, and by the looks of it, nobody else had either, despite nurse Lane of course.

“Be careful.” Tommy tightened his grip around you. “You might slip.”

“Okay.” You mumble, too exhausted to form a real answer. You looked around at the walls, floor and ceiling. The further the two of you walked, the denser this moss became. You felt a wave of familiarity but you couldn’t quite place it. Red moss…red moss! It hit you, Cindy! Her red stained shirt, she said it was from the moss in the outhouses. “Tommy! It’s the fucking outhouses! We fucking made it!” You would probably be jumping up and down with joy right now if it wasn’t for your broken leg.

You look up, spotting the out house toilet openings. Wow, real nice, you’re both sitting in Sunnyvale shit and piss right now. “Yeah, but how are we supposed to get out?” Tommy sighs looking up at the roughly 15 foot climb. “You can’t climb that.”

You look at him. “Yeah, but you might.”

“No. I’m sorry but no, I’m not leaving you down here, especially when there’s Cindy running around up there trying to kill us. C’mon let’s go, if we’re at the outhouses, we must be near to camp.” He directs you along but before you can both carry on your interrupted. “Did you hear that?!”

“No I-“

“Shush.” You both stayed quiet listening as to what caught your attention. It’s screaming. Someone is screaming from the outhouses. “Hey! Help! Please, we’re stuck down here!” You yell trying to get the attention of the voices.

The space grows quiet as the screaming halts, the both of you waiting nervously for any indication of life when a head pops out from one of the seat holes. “What the fuck are you guys doing in the toilets?!”

It was ziggy, Cindy's sister. “Ziggy..” you wonder if it’s right to tell her what’s happened to her sister but you decide against it, not wanting to put the girl in such an emotionally vulnerable state whilst she’s already physically. “Gary’s up here too!” She yells down as Gary’s head pops out another toilet hole. “Hey!” He yells, surprisingly light heartedly considering there’s a murderer running around camp butchering little kids with a fucking machete. “Can you get us out of this fucking toilet or not?!”

Gary had managed to make some sort of bucket contraption with some rope. “It’s just like You’re Gothel climbing up Rapunzel's hair, okay?!” He yelled down, lowering it down to you.

You're about to slip onto the contraption when you hear Ziggy's unfortunately very familiar screams, and before you know it Gary’s decapitated body lies beside you on the floor. You and Tommy let out an in sync gasp, him pulling you away into his chest, as to protect you from the image. “We’re gonna have to find another way out.”

You think to yourself. Alice…she had shown you something whilst you were robbing nurse lanes office with Arnie. “I know how.” You pull out the book that started this whole thing.

“Baby, I don’t get how that book is gonna help us, let’s be honest it’s some random witches and wizards bullshit written how many hundreds of years ago?”

“No, tommy.” You turn the book to him parting the pages. “It’s a map.” You rest the book on the floor, the two of you leaning over it. “It's a map of camp, you see over here, these x’s are the graves we found. And over here, that’s where we entered.” You point your finger on the page. “Here, there’s another exit. Mess hall.”

His eyes lighten. “Jesus, fuck! You’re so smart!” He pulls you in for a kiss.

—-

You sat, your back arched over as you watched Tommy laid on his back kicking open the vent that led to the mess hall when another scream rang out. You instantly knew that it was ziggy, far too acquainted with the tone of her screams.

“Tommy!” With one final kick the vent flew open, Tommy hauling himself through in a split second. “Don’t move, stay here! I’m gonna go help Ziggy.”

Tommy always cared so much for the kids at camp, you honestly weren’t surprised that he was willing to risk his life for one of them.

—povc—

Tommy barged through the doors of the mess hall, an all too familiar song ringing through the speakers, the noise made his head thump as it blared.

Tommy followed the screams, grabbing a mallet that lied on a nearby counter. Cindy stood beating at a supply closet door as ziggy screamed from within. Tommy pulled cindy's shoulder for her to face him as he swung the mallet into her jaw. Cindy tumbled to the ground as she spat a mouthful of blood and teeth onto the floor. Tommy hesitated holding the mallet in his hand, ready to strike Cindy. But before he could come to any decision Cindy grabbed her machete from the ground slicing at Tommy’s thigh.

Tommy dropped to the floor, his mallet sliding across the freshly mopped floor tiles, Cindy rising to her feet, towering over Tommy. Overpowered, he crawled backwards digging the heels of his hands into the cold tile floor. He was braced for impact when Cindy stopped turning around.

—povc—

You lunged at her digging the knife you found into her back, pulling it out as she turned to face you, plunging it into her chest over and over until she hit the floor unresponsive. You fell. You had finally reached your limit. Your leg was broken for fucks sake and you just murdered Cindy. Pure-hearted, hard working Cindy Berman. You plunged your knife deep into her chest until you split it down the middle. You dragged your body over to Tommy’s wrapping your arms around him, wetting his shirt as you became inconsolable. He held his hand at the back of your neck placing soft kisses onto the top of your head. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay. She’s dead now, we’re gonna be okay.”

You heard as ziggy opened the closet door, dropping to her knees at the sight of her sister dead on the floor. The red headed girl pulled her sister's body over to face her, wrapping her arms around Cindy crying into her cold lifeless body. You crawled over to the girl pulling her away from her sister's touch into yours. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

The three of you struggled as you heard the last bell ring signalling that the bus would be leaving. Ziggy yelled out as the bus doors began to close. The wheels began to roll forwards but before it could depart a boy budged the doors open, calling out to her. “Ziggy!” You released your grip from the girl's side as she ran to him, embracing him. You rested your head on Tommy’s shoulder at the sight of the two. “I hope she’ll be okay.”

The two of you had found a place on the bus as Ziggy sat with you fellow councillor Nick goode. Finally being able to breathe, you rest your head on Tommy’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you're okay.” You look up at him smiling at his words. “Maybe you're the one who really needs protecting, without me you’d be dead meat.” You press your lips together, smiling softly into the kiss. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had lost you.”

Your eyes wandered to the window watching as the camp nightwing sign slowly floated away out of sight. Finally it was over.

———

After the accident medics treated and hospitalised many of the camp nightwing campers and counselors such as you and Tommy. Your leg was thankfully saved. They said if not for Tommy it probably would have had to be amputated due to infection.

It was two months since that night, you still had to use crutches but besides that, you made a speedy recovery alongside tommy. Although he was in a much less critical condition than you and was discharged within a few days, he still spent every night in the hospital with you.

You laid beside Tommy his leg slotted between yours as the velvet underground played softly in the background. You run your fingers through his hair slowly as he whines quietly into your chest. It finally felt like the first time since that day that you both could finally relax.

You pulled away from his touch leaning over him, kissing his lips softly. “You look so pretty.” You hum. He smiles into the kiss. “Not as much as you, baby.”

You lifted yourself straddling Tommy’s hips, deepening the kiss as your hands ran down playing with the hem of his shirt, travelling underneath. He pulls away, his hand rubbing your thigh. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I’m okay.” You reassure him, pressing soft kisses along his collarbone. You removed your shirt as Tommy’s hands floated up to your waist.

“God, you're so beautiful.” He mumbles, kissing up your chest slowly as you take off your pyjama shorts, throwing them to the floor.

You lean down unbuttoning Tommy’s jeans, taking him in your hand. Tommy twitches at the contact as you align himself to you. You lower yourself onto him slowly as his hands hold a firm grip on your lower back. Tommy lays his head back, his hips thrusting up into you.

You shiver as you lift yourself up and down, your thighs shaking from the stimulation. His thrusts hardened, your soft whimpers of his name encouraging him. “You look so fucking good right now.” He gripped your waist helping you keep a steady pace.

You steadied yourself, leaning your arms out pressing your hands against his chest as you felt yourself near your climax. “Shit, Tommy I’m gonna come.” You whined under your breath.

“Don’t worry baby, me too.” He runs his hands down your back lovingly.

You threw your head back as you felt Tommy’s hand wander down edging you on further, your breath quivering at the touch. You felt his hips buckle beneath you as he reached his peak, yours following soon after.

You sighed your body collapsing onto his chest. “I love yours so much.” You mumble into his skin as he presses a soft kiss against your forehead.

—-

It was the 16th anniversary since that day at nightwing, the two of you still happily together. Despite the permanent scar that night had left on the both of you mentally and physically, you both managed to stay strong, the event probably making the two of you even closer than you already were before.

Every year instead of hiding from the memories of that night, you both embrace it. Tommy’s favourite way to do this was to ‘reenact your youths’ in his words by driving the two of you out to the forest, where you would’ve spent so many nights together when you were younger.

You would open the sunroof and lay out the seats creating a little bed for the two of you. Probably not the safest thing the two of you could do, but most definitely the sweetest.

The two of you laid there staring up at the trees, resting your head on Tommy’s chest, your arm draped across his abdomen. Looking up at him you pressed a small kiss to the slope of his nose, pressing your heads together. The moonlight glazed over his cheeks, giving him a paler look. “You look so beautiful.”

—-

The car ride home was quiet but the atmosphere felt soft and comforting as Tommy rested his hand on your inner thigh. The velvet underground played softly on the radio as your eyes gazed out at the passing scenery.

#fear street #fear street 1978 #fear street 1994 #fear street 1666 #tommy slater #simon kalivoda #fear street x reader #tommy slater x reader #simon kalivoda x reader

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xcrystalzero · 3 years

Text

to be human

pairing: zhongli x gn!reader

summary: a god without his gnosis is just human and human life has as end.

note: ehe

It turns out that a god without his gnosis is just... human. A stupidly powerful human with frightening control over their element and a near encyclopedic knowledge of the land, but a human nonetheless. And nothing was quite as human as the idea of the finite.

You still vividly remember the night you came face to face with Zhongli for the first time. Not Morax or Rex Lapis or any of his other personas sworn to protect Liyue, but one sworn only to you. It was a day like no other when he appeared at your doorstep, but you knew immediately that something had changed.

That ever-particular man so caught up in his etiquette and contracts who had never before dared to step into your home without a proper invitation in came crashing into you, arms encircling your waist as he pulled your head into his chest. You were stunned but then you felt his warmth, the way his breath seemed to hitch in his chest, and the rush of his heartbeat. You hadn't considered before that your lover "felt like a god" but you had understood it then.

He certainly doesn't look like a god now. You close the door behind you as gently as you can, but he still stirs, eyes fluttering open and he's looking at you with a gentleness that has grown with time. A god without a gnosis is just human, and humans age. Neither of you hadn't noticed it at first. It was on your 30th birthday that you had jokingly pointed out the smile lines growing around Zhongli's eyes and when he had looked in the mirror later, he found himself unable to deny it.

"Hello love," you greet him as you make your way slowly forward. A warm smile is all the response you get which is understandable. His energy had been waning steadily for the past few days and you'd rather he didn't force himself into action he didn't need. "Are you comfortable?"

He nods and you reach over to help him sit up, resting his dwindling frame into the pillows lining the headboard. His gaze is focused on the window opposite his bed once again, not that you can blame him. Director Hu Tao really outdid herself this time finding this location for the two of you. From this little quiet house nestled in the mountainside, one could see the entirety of Liyue Harbor and on a clear day, even the ancient spires of Guyun Stone Forest sometimes reared their heads. From here, Zhongli could see everything he had created in its full glory.

"It's a fitting location," Hu Tao had chimed in, though even her chipper tone had softened when she considered her words. It was fine, you had assured her. Rex Lapis had insisted on ceremony and the Rite of Parting but all Zhongli asked for was your company and a few of the land he had been sworn to for so long.

"You look beautiful." Zhongli's voice draws you out of your thoughts and you turn your eyes to your lover. His smile has only gotten gentler with time but it's his amber eyes that draw your attention now. Where they once seemed to glow an almost ethereal amber, they seem to have lost their luster. Those are wholly human eyes that are now regarding you as though you are the most beautiful thing they had ever seen.

Ah, it's time.

"Thank you, as do you." You lay a hand atop Zhongli's. He smiles as you gently entangle his fingers with yours.

With a soft sigh, he closes his eyes. "I'm quite tired now..."

You swallow thickly. Now that he is no longer looking at you, the emotions are a lot harder to hide. "Rest then my love. You've done quite enough."

"I suppose you are right... Thank you for spending this time with me." His voice is softer with every word, the last few barely audible even as you force yourself to lean in closer to the man you love, placing a soft kiss to his forehead.

"I love you." You feel the words leave his lips more than you hear them, and then there is silence. The tears are falling freely from your eyes now, dripping down your cheeks as you rest your head against Zhongli's chest. There is no heartbeat.

You should go get the nurse that Hu Tao insisted stay in the house with you. You should bring the covers up over his body. You should say a prayer to your fallen god. But you do none of that. Instead, you let yourself lie against his chest one more time, heaving in raspy breathes as you let it all wash over you.

Time has had it's way with you just as it had with your lover. You will join him eventually. That was the logic you had been religiously feeding yourself these past few months and yet, it turns out that logic means nothing in the face of grief.

As you lay with your lover for the last time, you can almost feel the way the world wilts outside. Somewhere far off, a chorus of cries reverberate through the air. The adepti? It doesn't really matter who it is, just that they are sharing in your anguish, mourning the loss of a man they once loved.

Unlike the eternal earth however, there is hope for you. The passage of time wasn't reserved just for Zhongli and you were by no means immune. Time has had it's way with you as well if the grey of your hair and the ache in your bones has anything to say for the matter. The human life is finite after all. A morbid consideration of one's death would do little to stifle the grief of another, but for you, it is just another promise. The last contract you could make to the god of contracts.

"Fear not lover. I too will join you soon."

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fic #genshin impact zhongli

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tumbleweed-palmer · 3 years

Text

It Was Inevitable: Jimmy Palmer X Reader

Jimmy Palmer falls into a sugar daddy relationship with Y/N, but what happens when he falls in love with her? This can only end in heartbreak. It's inevitable.

===========

Jimmy Palmer never would have thought he would wind up in a situation like this. He knows that sounds like such a cliché. It’s true though, he never thought he would wind up doing anything like this and it’s a mess. It is the definition of a mess.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He doesn’t know how things got so complicated so fast.

It all began with a case and a little comment from Tony.

The case involved a dead sailor and the revelation that said dead sailor was taking part in a sugar daddy type of “relationship” with a young woman. There was some suspicion that she might have been the one responsible for his death…and in a way she was…no she didn’t shoot the man herself, but another one of her clients did out of jealousy.

Tony had made some offhand remark about how these types of “relationships” always ended in a disaster.

Of course this had quickly prompted teasing from Ziva and McGee about just how Tony knew so much about these types of relationships…which had in turn resulted in Tony admitting he’d maybe looked at a website designed for the purpose of those types of relationships.

Or as Tony had put it. “It was research for a case I was consulting on. I chatted with a girl for strictly professional purposes…she was a nice girl, very hot, a total ten, but ya know…I don’t get the appeal of being treated like a human ATM. That kind of relationship just seems destined to fail.”

Jimmy couldn’t help but to hang on to the entire concept of a sugar baby.

Jimmy Palmer had always been terribly curious. It was a positive attribute to have, Dr. Mallard had always insisted. The first step to any type of learning was curiosity.

Then again didn’t curiosity kill the cat?

As hard as Jimmy tried to forget about the entire case his brain had clung onto the details. He had so many questions about sugar babies. How exactly did that type of relationship work? Did it feel degrading for either party? Did it involve sex or was it just about having companionship in other ways? What types of things did the sugar baby expect? What kind of guy was into a relationship like this? Was it like a business transaction or a friendship? And most importantly what type of girl was interested in this type of relationship?

Jimmy had found a website faster than he would ever admit. It was just to satisfy his curiosity he’d told himself.

Wasn’t Dr. Mallard always yammering on about the importance of understanding how people’s minds worked in their line of work? You had to understand how the human mind worked to understand how people could do something like shove an ice pick through someone’s heart or shoot a man in an alleyway. Perhaps having an understanding of how these types of relationships worked would make Jimmy a better medical examiner.

This was an educational endeavor Jimmy had told himself. He could make a quick profile, take a look around, and then his curiosity would be satisfied and he’d never have to think about this ever again.

For the most part the girls on the website had been kind of what Jimmy had been picturing. They were beautiful of course. However, it was obvious that a few of them weren’t even real people. Their photos and their profiles seemed a little too good to be real. They were most likely scam artists who’d stolen some photos of attractive women hoping to make a quick buck off some naive guy with a large bank account.

He’d been almost ready to give up and call his little educational experience a total bust when he’d spotted her profile.

It was her username that had caught his attention: Belle Mort.

Jimmy had taken a semester abroad his junior year in France. He still understood the french language just enough to translate her username: Beautiful Death.

The little sense of familiarity and the mention of a subject that his career revolved around had been enough to spark his interest and before he could stop himself he’d clicked on her profile.

She was different from the other girls on the site.

She was a few years younger than him; still in her twenties. She was a college student working on her masters. She’d mentioned her university fees were expensive and she was looking for companionship and a way to ease the financial strain. So, why not try an option that could offer her both monetary gain and companionship. She listed films and music she enjoyed a few of which Jimmy recognized. She seemed to enjoy art and overly sweet iced coffee. There were photos of her at museums and coffee shops. She posed in front of sculptures and paintings. She posed with a comically large iced coffee at an outdoor cafe somewhere. She was a beautiful woman. She wasn’t as in your face like the other profiles though. There was almost something elegant about her.

Her profile wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

He’d expected something kind of vulgar to be honest, like something straight out of one of the men’s magazines Tony liked to read at work when he thought Gibbs wasn’t looking.

Most of the other women on the site had been in bikinis and more revealing outfits. The outfit Belle Mort had worn in her main profile photo was sexy, sure, it hugged her body well, but the black sundress had seemed so much less intimidating than the other women’s clothing choices. The other women seemed dressed for a night of clubbing. Belle Mort seemed as though she could fit in at any cafe or farmers market in the DC Virginia area.

Her profile had made her seem less like some sort of sultry seductress and more like the girl next door. There was almost something playful about how she described herself despite the more serious tone of her username.

There was something about her that just seemed so approachable. She looked like the kind of girl Jimmy would spot at a coffee shop or maybe even on campus at Georgetown, but would never have the nerve to actually approach.

That was Jimmy’s big problem it seemed. Jimmy Palmer had never been too terribly great about approaching girls, especially ones who he found pretty. Most of his past flings and romantic encounters had been with women who approached him.

Jimmy wasn’t really the type to make the first move. He’d be the first to admit he was more the type to pine after a pretty girl but never quite work up the nerve to hit on her. He wasn’t the dominant type when it came to romance.

Jimmy had never really had that much confidence when it came to women. He was awkward at the best of times when it came to communication, but when it came to a pretty girl he could be hopeless.

Maybe that was what had driven him to click on the little message button by her profile. It was too easy to send her a quick message knowing that if he was rejected at least it would be over a computer screen and not in person. Being rejected online seemed so much less pathetic than being rejected in person.

The message Jimmy had sent had been so simple. Hi. So, Beautiful Death? Where did the inspiration for that come from? I’m Jimmy by the way.

He hadn’t expected to get a message back that same night and the message he had gotten back had only made him all the more intrigued. Hello. It comes from an essay I wrote recently on death and funeral culture in medieval era France. A little morbid of a subject, I know, but I guess it’s an odd little interest of mine. I’m impressed you caught the translation. <3 Y/N.

Jimmy had read the message over and over and over again. His brain picking it apart. He’d only grown more intrigued the more times he read it. And her name, he read her name a thousand times thinking it sounded so much nicer than Belle Mort.

He’d been unable to stop himself from messaging her back and had been delighted as she’d been open to sending him one in return.

This had gone on for a while, Jimmy working up his confidence to broach the subject.

He’d been unable to stop himself from admitting it to her. I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t know how to do any of this. I don’t know how this works.

A sigh of relief had left him at the response she’d given him. Lucky for you I’m a bit new to this myself. There’s no correct way to go about this. We can figure it out together, that is, if you’re interested?

Jimmy was interested, he was very interested. He knew he’d sounded far too eager when he’d let her know that he was, but luckily for him she didn’t seem to mind.

She’d requested that he send her a photo of himself. He hadn’t gotten around to actually placing a photo of himself on his profile that he’d made when he’d signed up for the site. After all, he hadn’t signed up for the site with the intention of actually messaging anyone at all.

He’d been hesitant to send her a photo, what if this was a scam? Maybe she’d steal the photo and post it somewhere online to shame him? Maybe she was a hacker who’d hack into his contacts and send it and all their messages to his friends and family and anyone in his contact list? Maybe this was all some elaborate scheme to shame him as some kind of pervert? Maybe she was planning on blackmailing him with this?

He’d ignored this fear though doing his best to take a photo of himself where he didn’t think he looked too horrible. He’d used a digital camera loading the photo up onto his laptop and sending the photo before he had time to second guess the choice.

He’d felt his cheeks flush at the response he’d gotten. I have to be honest Jimmy. You’re cuter than I expected. I thought you’d be much older. You’re a handsome guy. Are you sure you need me? I’m sure there would be plenty of girls who’d be happy to get to know you.

She calling him cute had caused a warm feeling to wash over him. She thought he was handsome.

He’d ignored the little voice in the back of his head that told him it was all bullshit; that she was just flattering him to get paid. It was nice to be complimented even if it was fueled by monetary gain.

He’d sent her a fast response. I need you, please.

That had been all it had taken. They’d exchanged numbers and after a few conversations over the phone, the first few pretty awkward to be honest, they’d managed to work out something between them.

It hadn’t been sexual, not at first. At first they’d just spent time together. He’d liked the companionship. He’d taken her to dinner and to art galleries. He’d taken her to museums once he’d realized she was a history major with the focus being on French history.

They spent their time talking. He felt like it was so easy to open up to her about whatever was troubling him. She never seemed to blink twice at the odder more macabre aspects of his job like most people tended to do. She didn’t mind that he could be anxious and she didn’t seem to mind that he had a tendency to be more awkward than he liked to admit. She didn’t even mind his puns or his terrible jokes. She seemed to like him the way he was.

She seemed to enjoy their time together or at least it seemed like she enjoyed it. She was so willing to praise him and compliment him. No one really praised him like she did. She was just there when he needed her. Even though a little voice in the back of his head told him her compliments were empty, he ignored that voice and soaked up her praise like a sponge.

She made it so easy for him to become so dependent on her. He wanted to please her. There was something addictive about seeing her happy and knowing he was the reason behind that happiness.

It felt like a friendship. In a lot of ways Y/N began to feel like Jimmy’s therapist/friend. He opened up to her about his worries and she listened and gave him advice. She was the first person he wanted to call whether he was having a great day or the worst day ever. She was where his mind went to in his quiet moments.

It felt like a friendship.

The little voice in the back of his head of course was always quick to remind him that they weren’t friends though…you didn’t have to pay someone for friendship.

He’d shushed the voice though, it felt too nice to spend time with her. He could pretend that this was something more than what it was he told himself.

Jimmy had the money to keep this up. His grandparents had long ago set up trust funds for his sister and he both. They’d made some smart investments and those investments had paid off.

Jimmy had never really been the materialistic type.

He might occasionally use the money to buy himself a gaming system or maybe a nicer tie. He’d used a little bit of it to put towards student loans. He mostly left the money alone though. Maybe it was the resentment he felt about it. His grandparents were on his father’s side after all, and his father had been such a bastard. So, in a way, using the money too often made him feel sick to his stomach.

Using the money on Y/N though, that didn’t make him feel sick. He told himself he might as well use the money on this. The trust fund was constantly growing with the investments and he might as well take advantage of it doing something that he enjoyed.

He placed money in her bank account when they spent time together. She didn’t charge him by the hour. It was one rate that they’d agreed on for each date. He’d been surprised at how easily she had presented all the fine little details of how this arrangement was going to work. She had given him her terms and had answered any questions he’d had about just what this arrangement would entail. She’d seemed to have it all figured out despite her admission that she was still pretty new to all of this.

It had become almost second nature to him, something he could do without even thinking, he slipped money into her bank account and went on with whatever they’d planned out for a date.

He did other things for her though aside from the payments to her account. He bought her gifts; flowers and perfume and a cashmere scarf he thought she’d like. Then he’d begun buying her jewelry. It was never anything really extravagant. It was mostly antique pieces that he was sure she’d like given her interest in history. She never asked for the gifts, he just liked the reaction he got when he gave them to her.

The gifts were what had led to their arrangement becoming sexual. She’d been the one who initiated it. The gifts were so nice she’d insisted, she wanted to do something nice for him as a thank you.

Jimmy had tried to insist that she didn’t have to of course, he hadn’t given her the gifts expecting anything in return other than the simple act of knowing he was pleasing her. She had insisted she wanted to do this for him though. And Jimmy had found that he was incapable of denying her this. He could admit that he wasn’t the most experienced guy on the planet at least when it came to the amount of women he’d been with. She was a beautiful woman and she seemed to want to please him. He was incapable of saying no to her. He’d let her take the reins on that front deciding to just go with it. How many opportunities like this would fall into his lap after all?

If anything this had made their arrangement feel more like a friends with benefits type of situation.

He could admit that the sexual aspect of this entire arrangement had only made things between them feel all the more complicated though. It was inevitable really, how could he share such an intimate action with someone without it meaning something?

They were playing a dangerous game and the longer it persisted the more Jimmy was beginning to realize his heart was going to be broken in the end.

It was undeniable how he felt about her. It was the only explanation for why she constantly seemed to be on his mind. It was almost pathetic really, he’d fallen in love with someone who he was paying to spend time with him. He’d fallen in love with his Sugar Baby. He was pretty sure that this was a recipe for disaster.

Lately this realization had seemed all the more apparent to Jimmy. Someone was going to get hurt if they kept this up, and he had a feeling it was going to be him. He loved her, but she could never love him. It was all so hopeless.

There didn’t seem to be any way of stopping the arrangement though, not now. He knew he could end it at any moment, but he remained helpless to do so. He was in too deep now. She had become such a fixture in his life. It was almost as though she was a siren calling him to what would certainly be his doom, but he was far too entranced to care. He needed her and he didn’t care if it would only hurt him in the end.

So that was maybe why it was so easy for him to reach for his cell phone the second Dr. Mallard stepped away for his lunch break leaving Jimmy alone in Autopsy. It took him very little time to find her number in his contact list and call it.

He couldn’t stop himself from sounding as eager as he felt as he spoke. “Hey, are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy for you Handsome.” Her response came so naturally and he couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his lips at the sound of her voice and the little pet name she’d bestowed upon him.

He spoke up knowing he still sounded so needy. “Can I see you tonight?”

“Of course, what do you have in mind? I need to know how to dress for the occasion.” She asked.

The answer fell from his lips without hesitation. “Nothing too crazy. I was just thinking a night in with some take out, just…things have been pretty hectic lately. I just- I really need to see you tonight.”

“What time? My last class for the day ends at five.” She remarked Jimmy so fast to answer her.

“I won’t make it out of here until around five thirty if I manage to make it through the rest of the day without any complications. I’ll need time to shower though…so maybe seven would be best.” He admitted knowing he didn’t quite want to meet up with her smelling like the scent of decay and disinfectant that seemed to permeate around Autopsy.

“Sounds workable for me, Handsome. Any special requests for tonight? I know how much you love that black lace set I wore last time.” She replied, making an audible moan leave him as he clearly pictured the lace lingerie set she was recalling and just how much he’d loved the way it had hugged her body.

He spoke the words sliding from him without a second thought. “Whatever you’d like. I just want you to be comfortable.”

The giggle that left her only made his cheeks flush all the more the lust he felt for her only becoming more apparent. “Always such a gentleman. I may have to find something new to wear for you. You sound like you could really use a nice distraction tonight. You sound tense.”

He spoke his voice tight the words sliding from him without him even having to think twice now. “I am…I could use a distraction. I’ll make the deposit in your account. The usual amount.”

“Punctual as always, Handsome. I’ll let you get back to work. Those crimes aren’t going to solve themselves. I’ll see you tonight. I’ll bring the wine. No red, I remember you don’t like the bitter. I’ll bring a Rosé or a Moscato, something sweet.” She replied knowing him well enough by now to know exactly what he preferred.

He felt a deep sigh leave him as he hung up the phone. He was in too deep. There was no escaping this. He wanted her too much to escape this. He didn’t care if he only got to have her because of their arrangement. This was how it had to be if he wanted time with her. Sometimes he just wished things could be different.

………………………………………………………………………

They wound up on his sofa in his apartment with two wine glasses and some empty take out boxes set out on the coffee table in front of them.

She’d greeted him just how she usually did; with a kiss to the cheek. There were never kisses to the lips. The act of pressing her lips to his was just too intimate he’d guessed. She’d kiss him everywhere but his lips. He tried his best to deny how much the refusal to actually kiss him stung. He told himself he didn’t have the right to complain. This wasn’t a real relationship.

She’d followed his request for comfort showing up to his place wearing a more casual blouse with a pair of jeans and a loose fitting cardigan. She still had made an effort for him as she usually did; her makeup looking as flawless as always. She’d traded in heels for a pair of flats and had allowed her hair to hang loosely around her face.

She managed to look stunning even in a more casual look.

She’d made good on her promise to bring wine having chosen to bring a sweet rosé with her chilled and ready for them. The bottle looked expensive and Jimmy had resisted the urge to ask if he was the one who had paid for the bottle, deciding he didn’t want to know the answer. He didn’t like the way it sounded, so accusatory.

She sipped her wine, her eyes cutting over to gaze upon him not helping but to sense his less than cheerful mood. It was so unlike him. If she’d figured out one thing about Jimmy it was that the man seemed to be an endless ray of sunshine and joy. He always seemed so cheerful. It was kind of refreshing honestly, to be around someone who was capable of being so positive.

She had noticed over the course of their last few dates though that something seemed to be troubling him.

She spoke daring to bring it up. “What’s going on in that head of yours Handsome? You don’t seem like your usual self.”

He managed to glance over at her the answer dancing around in his brain. Isn’t it obvious, I’m in love with the last person I should be in love with. He spoke the lie sliding from him so easily. “Work has just been hectic lately.”

She managed to give him a small teasing smile. “So it’s been nothing out of the ordinary.”

He felt a small smile cross his lips at the statement. He had been pretty open about the somewhat hectic nature of his job. That was something he’d always liked about her, how she was willing to listen to him discuss his job without ever shying away or showing disgust at some of the more morbid aspects of it. He wasn’t accustomed to people not being fazed by his choice in career.

She spoke again the words sliding from her so easily. “If there’s something bothering you then you know you can tell me. I’d like to think I’m a pretty good listener.”

“You are, I mean- you are a good listener and I appreciate it. This is just something…it’s just something I have to figure out on my own.” He admitted knowing there was no way he could tell her the truth.

He spoke again before she had time to press him for more information. “What about you? Didn’t you say your classes have been really intense lately?”

She felt a small genuine smile cross her lips still a little impressed by Jimmy’s ability to remember these details about her life. Somehow he’d gotten her to open up to him just as much as he seemed to want to open up to her. There was just something about him that had made it so easy for her to trust him to open up despite their arrangement.

She’d only had this type of arrangement once before with another man, but it hadn’t felt like this.

She hadn’t been lying to Jimmy when he’d first contacted her. She was still new to this type of work. An acquaintance had encouraged her to give it a shot. It was an easy way to make money quick. You could set your rules and your own boundaries. It was a fast way to make a lot of money without having to work very hard.

Y/N was in desperate need for some form of income and the usual part time job just wasn’t covering it. It seemed easy enough. All she had to do was spend some time with some old wealthy guy and make a quick paycheck. She didn’t have to do a thing he didn’t want to do. She was the one in charge.

Her first attempt at this hadn’t ended well. The guy was too pushy. He hadn’t exactly respected her rules and she’d cut him off. No amount of money was worth the disrespect.

She was almost considering getting out of the business around the time Jimmy had contacted her.

Jimmy wasn’t what she’d been expecting. He was different from the usual men who had propositioned her on the sugar baby website. She was accustomed to old graying business men old enough to be her father who seemed to believe that sugar baby equaled prostitute.

Jimmy wasn’t some old graying business man who wanted her to put out because he threw money at her. He’d never really pushed her for anything more than she’d offered. Maybe that was why she’d been the one who’d offered to give him more. Jimmy had seemed just happy to have her company. She couldn’t help but to want to please him as badly as he seemed to rely on making her happy.

To be totally honest she couldn’t help but to depend on his happiness as much as he seemed to depend on hers. She couldn't deny the fact that spending time with him did give her some sense of joy. She could also admit that Jimmy did seem to be an interesting guy. Although, he seemed kind of lonely to be honest. It didn't feel like he had much of a social life outside of his coworkers. It seemed as though his career ate up so much of his time. His job seemed so sad really, but she couldn't deny that it was fascinating to hear about. She couldn’t help but to think he must see so many heartbreaking things at work though. She didn’t understand how he could be so positive in his line of work.

She’d been surprised when he’d sent her his photo. She’d been expecting another guy old enough to be her dad. Jimmy wasn’t that much older than her. She hadn’t been lying to him, he was a cute guy. She had to wonder why he felt the need to seek her out. She’d quickly realized why of course. He just seemed shy; almost painfully so. It was obvious that Jimmy Palmer was a little nervous around women. Hence why he had needed her. She’d figured she was doing the man a favor. She could help him build up his confidence. She had just never expected to like him this much.

He was unlike anyone she’d ever met.

Jimmy Palmer was dangerous.

The more she got to know him the more she began to realize this simple fact.

She tried to shush the thoughts in her brain trying her best to play it cool and stay as calm and collected as she always did with him. “Finals week is coming. It’s always stressful. It’s nothing I can’t handle though.”

He felt the words leave him without hesitation. “Maybe when it’s all over we can do something special to celebrate…Maybe we can take a trip or do something like that…anything you want….I mean if you don’t have plans. You probably have plans.”

She replied not helping but to dislike the way he seemed to deflate at his own suggestion when it hit him that she might have plans for the end of her semester that didn’t involve him. “I don’t have plans. I’m sure something can be arranged for us.”

She paused not helping but to tease him. “A trip might be nice. Though it’s a little dangerous to tell me I can have anything I want.”

He felt his spirits lift at the promise of more time with her. He felt the words leave him knowing his words rang so true. “I’d give you anything you wanted, no questions asked.”

She chuckled at this statement, her hand pressing to his cheek not help but to be amused at the way he leaned into her touch. She managed to speak ignoring the warm feeling that washed over her at the way he was staring down at her. “Like I said, a dangerous promise to make me, Handsome. You should be careful I might just take you up on that offer.”

He cleared his throat remembering something he’d been hanging on to with the intention of giving it to her in a few months. He’d planned on waiting until her semester ended but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give it to her early. Seeing her happy always seemed to lift his mood.

He could admit this gift was something special. The second he’d spotted it his mind had gone to her. To be honest he may have bought the particular gift with the hopes that the message behind it would read out loud and clear to her without him having to even say the words.

He felt the words leave him as he reluctantly pulled from her touch. “I have something for you.”

She watched him disappear to his bedroom not helping but to be intrigued. The gifts he gave her were certainly always a surprise. He’d never seemed to have any expectations with the gifts he gave her, but she always felt the need to thank him. What better way to thank him than by pleasuring him?

It was something she hadn’t exactly done in her previous arrangement. She’d always figured it wasn’t a line she was willing to cross with a client.

She could admit that it had been easy to bring intimacy into her arrangement with Jimmy. He was an attractive guy and he seemed so eager to please her. He seemed determined to make her feel good. She figured it was a good ego boost for him, she was doing him a favor helping build up that confidence. If anything she figured it was a job perk for her.

Still she could admit that the more times she allowed their arrangement to cross this line the more complex her feelings towards Jimmy became.

She didn’t have much time to hyperfocus on the complexity of her feelings as Jimmy reappeared holding a small gift bag.

She took it from him as he sat down beside her, the words sliding from her. “I’ll never say no to a present.”

She widened her eyes, a bit stunned by what she pulled from the gift bag. The necklace was contained in a little velvety pouch. She felt a little breathless as she stared down at the red garnet hanging from a golden chain.

Jimmy spoke the words falling from him. “I remembered you said it’s your favorite gemstone.”

He paused remembering how she had told him quite a bit about it during one of their dates to a museum. There had been an exhibit on gemstones and he’d found that Y/N knew quite a bit about the subject. He could remember hanging on to every word she’d said. “From what I remember of what you told me, garnet was actually one of the most popular stones used during the Victorian era. You also said that it’s actually associated with pomegranate seeds and that according to greek mythology it was associated with Persephone.”

She nodded her head amazed he’d even recalled this conversation. “It is. It’s associated with pomegranates due to the red hue. It goes back to the myth of Hades giving Persephone a pomegranate so she would be bound to the underworld and would have to return to him when Spring ended. So greek mythology associates it as a gift to give an estranged lover with the hopes they will return to them. Greeks used to exchange garnet to travellers as a token of safe travels.”

Jimmy cleared his throat easily remembering more of what she’d told him. He spoke unable to stop himself from saying it, his true feelings spilling from him. “Garnets are also supposed to represent friendship and…love, they’re supposed to represent passionate love.”

She parted her lips, hesitant to ask him if that’s what this necklace represented to him, but she didn’t have a chance as his cell phone began to ring, breaking his gaze from hers.

He cleared his throat as he answered his phone, his brow furrowing as he listened to the person on the other end of the line for a long while before actually speaking. “Yes, Dr. Mallard. Of course, I’ll be there right away. I understand.”

Y/N didn’t speak until he hung up the phone the moment they’d shared over this newest gift too far away to grasp again.

She cleared her throat trying to play off her true feelings. “Work calling?”

“Yeah, dead petty officer found in a dumpster behind a diner.” Jimmy admitted trying not to give away too much knowing he couldn’t exactly risk breaking evidence protocol.

She gathered her coat and her gift placing the necklace in her purse as she headed for his front door.

Jimmy walked her to the door, Jimmy and she staring at one another for a brief moment. He felt himself lean closer to her, everything in him screaming to take his chance. Everything in him screamed that he had to show her what he was trying to say with the necklace. He couldn’t keep doing this. He had to show her how he felt before it drove him insane. He needed more than this arrangement. He couldn’t fight this any longer. Even if it hurt him he had to try.

She turned her face from his silently rejecting his attempt to press his lips to hers as she spoke. “Be safe at work.”

Jimmy felt his heart ache at what was so clearly a symbol of her rejecting how he felt. Of course she couldn’t feel the same. Of course this wasn’t real.

“I will, thank you.” He stated his eyes turning from hers as she pulled from him.

He closed his eyes, his heart cracking as he fought the urge to chase after her. Her reaction to his attempt to kiss her had told him all he needed to know about how she felt. She didn’t want him, not in the way he wanted her.

He could distinctly hear a voice in the back of his head that sounded all too much like Tony’s repeating the same words Tony had said months ago. I don’t get the appeal of being treated like a human ATM.

A Human ATM, of course, that’s all Jimmy was to her. He was a fool to ever hope for more.

………………………………………………………………………………

Y/N found herself sitting up in her bedroom, the garnet necklace sitting in her hand, her mind going ninety miles an hour. The necklace, that damn necklace. Why’d he have to go and do that? Why’d he have to do this?

The other gifts hadn’t been so intimate. The other gifts hadn’t meant anything. They’d been innocent gifts; a perfume she liked, a pair of earrings she thought was pretty, a nice silky robe that cost a bit more than she’d usually feel comfortable spending on one item of clothing, a dozen roses, a pretty red cashmere scarf.

Those gifts had been nice of course, but they hadn’t had any meaning behind them, not like this necklace.

This wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to get attached. She wasn’t supposed to get attached.

It was inevitable a voice in the back of her brain told her. She’d taken him to bed, it was bound to happen. That kind of intimacy meant too much for it to just be another part of their arrangement.

That had been her first mistake; taking him to bed allowing him to make love to her more than once.

It was just supposed to be sex, but then again was sex really ever just sex?

Maybe that was why she’d always told herself she’d never sleep with a client. Jimmy had made her throw out those rules so easily though. She’d given in to her own lust and it had bit her in the ass.

She may have never allowed him to press his lips to hers, but that hadn’t stopped those feelings from blooming within them.

Why did Jimmy have to be so sweet and charming and so kind and funny? Why did he have to be him?

This had been a mistake. This entire arrangement had been a mistake.

She’d realized it was a mistake from the start. She’d realized it was only going to end in disaster when she’d realized that she actually enjoyed her time spent with him.

She’d gone into their arrangement expecting it to be just like her previous experience where she had to smile and tolerate someone for a few hours knowing that it would be well worth the paycheck.

She didn’t have to tolerate Jimmy. She didn’t have to pretend with him.

She genuinely enjoyed being with him. Her heart lifted each time a call from him came. She felt a feeling of such warmth and adoration wash over her anytime he told her he needed her.

It wasn’t fair.

She had known she was fucked when she’d started feeling guilty about the deposits he’d placed into her bank account. She’d known she was well and truly screwed when she’d had the realization she’d like to spend time with him for free.

Her mind went to him far more often than she wanted. She remembered stories he’d told her or little habits he had. She remembered far too much about him for it to be just an arrangement between them.

What was she supposed to do now?

He clearly wanted more if this necklace and that almost kiss meant what she thought it meant.

This was no foundation to start a relationship on.

What were they supposed to tell people when they asked how they met? He was my sugar daddy and after he dropped a crap load of money on me I realized I was in love with him. He bought me a garnet necklace and I couldn’t deny how I felt about him anymore.

She knew how that made her sound. People already had enough to say when they found out about her little side hustle. People assumed the worst. Finding out she was dating a client would just reconfirm people’s worst assumptions about her.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she barely heard her roommate enter the room, a small frown crossing the girl’s face. “What’s with you?”

Y/N sighed ignoring the question choosing to ask her own question. “What do you need?”

Her roommate shot her a sheepish smile as she spoke. “Can I borrow that dress you have? The green one? I have a date.”

Y/N nodded her head giving a nonverbal answer, her brain easily sliding back into her own loop of despair over this entire mess.

Her roommate spoke a small sigh leaving her. “Why are you at home? You’re usually out with the Sugar Daddy on the weekends.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh her voice tense. “He had work.”

“That doesn’t explain why you look like someone pissed in your cheerios.” Her roommate easily remarked Y/N rolling her eyes at this statement.

She spoke, deciding to just be honest about it. “Shit’s getting complicated with him.”

Her roommate spoke easily, guessing the issue. “He’s getting a little too attached?”

Y/N sighed hating to admit it out loud. “He’s not the only one.”

“Shit, well what are you doing to do about it?” Her roommate dared to ask Y/N feeling her heart crack as the only possible solution came to light.

She had kept her profile on the sugar baby website though she hadn’t had any other clients but Jimmy. She’d had no reason to. He paid her well enough to only keep him. To be honest, it had seemed almost wrong to take on any other client but him even though it was something she knew some girls did.

She sighed remembering all those messages in her inbox. She’d gotten some messages pretty recently actually.

This was a sign. She should just admit that this couldn’t last forever. It was time to let Jimmy go. He could find someone else. He had worked up his confidence with her. It was inevitable that this couldn’t last. He had to move on with his life. She ignored the way her stomach turned at the thought of him with someone else. This was for the best. She had to do the smart thing for the both of them. She wasn’t right for him. A relationship with him wouldn’t work. She needed to set him free.

“I can’t do this with him anymore. It’s time to move on.” Y/N stated hating to admit it. It was the only way this could end though.

It was inevitable.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Jimmy Palmer knew he’d screwed everything up.

She wasn’t returning his calls. She wouldn’t pick up when he called her. She didn’t respond to any of his messages.

It had been weeks now and it was so obvious she was ignoring him.

He’d really gone and messed everything up.

He’d lost her. Then again was she ever his to have?

How did it all get so screwed up?

He knew how, it had all gone to hell when he’d fallen in love with her.

His despondent mood was apparently noticeable to everyone despite his unwillingness to open up about it.

He couldn’t imagine anyone would understand how he felt anyhow. They would all just judge him if they knew the details behind this entire mess.

Dr. Mallard had tried to get him to open up, but Dr. Mallard was the last person Jimmy wanted to know about this entire situation. He wasn’t sure his mentor would approve of any of this. He wasn’t sure Dr. Mallard would have much sympathy for him.

Apparently his mood was so low that even Tony had taken some sympathy on him and in a very uncharacteristic Tony act he cornered Jimmy in the hallway outside of Autopsy fast to speak to him before Jimmy could say no. “You and me Autopsy Gremlin. We’re hitting a nightclub. I don’t know what your issue is but it’s nothing a night out can’t fix. I am speaking for everyone when I say we’re sick of watching you mope. I’m guessing that a woman is the only reason behind why you’re so moody. We’re going out tonight. I feel sorry enough for you that I’ll even be your wingman. You need a rebound and you’ll be good to go.”

Jimmy wanted to say no, but he’d found himself unable to get out of it as Tony had shown up at his front steps and had practically dragged him out of the apartment.

That was how he’d wound up here in a dim nightclub, the neon lights making his head hurt, the music far too loud.

Tony had already tried to get Jimmy to talk to a few girls, but Jimmy wasn’t willing to play along with any of this.

Tony had long ago given up and had promptly ditched Jimmy to go hit on a group of girls that were part of a bachelorette party. He’d tried to drag Jimmy along with him insisting that bridesmaids were always up for a fun night, but Jimmy had resisted.

He’d found himself alone at the bar debating the best way he could escape this nightclub and go home.

He sipped his drink knowing that the alcohol would only make him feel worse.

He let his eyes scan the club the smiling faces of the other patrons doing nothing but making him feel even more terrible. There were so many couples here. Seeing them so happy and in love just made his heart crack all the more.

Why was he like this? He should have known that it would end like this. This was bound to end in heartbreak.

He almost dropped the drink he was holding as he spotted her. It couldn’t be. No fate wasn’t that cruel was it?

It was Y/N and she wasn’t alone.

He felt his stomach turn as he watched the older man she was with slide his arm around her leaning in far too close to her.

She’d told Jimmy that he was her only client. Had it been a lie? Or had his love pushed her away into the arms of a new client?

He felt a wave of jealousy wash over him at the sight of her suitor. The man was much older than him and to be honest Jimmy thought he looked kind of scummy. Sure his suit was nice, and he was handsome enough. It was the way he was gripping onto Y/N though. He was holding her far too tight in Jimmy’s opinion.

As much as he wanted to turn away he couldn’t take his eyes off them.

He felt that jealousy boil down to anger when he watched the man lean in closer to Y/N whispering something in her ear. Judging by the look on her face she didn’t like it because she made an attempt to pull away. Her suitor apparently wasn’t pleased with this and took a tight grip to her arm yanking her back towards him.

Jimmy felt himself moving before he had a chance to second guess himself.

He felt the words leave him squaring his shoulders trying to make himself look far more intimidating than he felt. “Hey, leave her alone.”

Y/N stared up at him, the color washing from her face. Of course he was here. Why would fate be any kinder to her?

The guy stared up at Jimmy seemingly unimpressed with his attempts to look intimidating. “Back off buddy. This is between me and her.”

Jimmy didn’t back off his voice still firm knowing he at least had the advantage of being taller than this guy. “You need to let go of her. She’s trying to get away from you.”

Y/N spoke trying to smooth this all over before someone got hurt. “Jimmy-”

She didn’t have a chance to continue as her suitor spoke. “You know him Doll? You didn’t mention having any other clients.”

He glared up at Jimmy fast to speak again. “Listen Jim, I don’t know how much money you’ve given her, but I’m paying her tonight, not you. I dropped a good bit of money on her tonight so I suggest you back off and let me get my money’s worth. You can have her back when I’m done with her. Trust me, I’m having some buyers remorse right now so you might get her back sooner than later.”

Jimmy felt his fists clench as he spoke. “I’m only saying it one more time, let go of her.”

“Or what huh? Are you serious? You’re willing to get in a fight over a whore?” Jimmy saw red at the statement and raised his clenched fist allowing it to collide with the man’s nose, a crack sounding out audible even with the club music beating around them.

The man let go of Y/N to clutch his nose, blood pooling around him he cursing.

Y/N sighed grabbing a hold of Jimmy’s wrist as she spotted a very annoyed club bouncer making his way towards them apparently having spotted the situation.

She dragged him from the room speaking to the bouncer trying to smooth over the situation. “I know, My boyfriend saw that guy harassing me, he’s had too much to drink. I’m taking him home. Please don’t call the cops we’re leaving.”

The bouncer glared down at them, his voice gruff. “Just leave the premises and don’t come back.”

She sighed yanking Jimmy behind her heading out the entrance and around the alleyway her face flushing with embarrassment and rage.

She spoke, unable to stop herself from sounding pissed. “What in the hell was that Jimmy?”

Jimmy spoke his own anger still so apparent. “You’re welcome for defending you from a creep.”

“I had it handled. I didn’t ask for your help.” She snapped back her arms crossing as she tried to control her anger.

Jimmy scoffed at this, shaking his head. “Oh yeah, you looked like you had it all under control.”

“What’s your problem. Last I checked I’m allowed to have other clients besides you.” She remarked glaring up at him.

“You said I was your only client.” Jimmy exclaimed, unable to stop himself from saying it.

Y/N sighed shaking her head as she spoke. “You were. This was my first date with this guy.”

He spoke, needing to say it. “It’s going to be the last.”

She glared up at him ready to tell him that he had no right to tell her what to do, but he spoke again the words that left him making her defenses crumble. “I just-the way he was touching you. How he talked about you, I couldn’t stand it. You don’t deserve to be treated like that, no one does. Even if this arrangement between us is over, I can’t stand you being treated that way.”

She felt a lump develop in the back of her throat, her voice soft as she spoke. “I won’t see him again…I actually…I think I’m done with this whole Sugar Baby thing.”

She crossed her arms a little tighter ignoring the shiver that ran through her. She regretted not wearing a coat tonight. The little red dress her client had sent her for tonight was more revealing than she’d usually wear.

The message from this client had been sitting in her inbox for almost a month now but she’d just replied to it earlier this week. Against her better judgement she’d agreed to a date almost immediately. She thought it was necessary if she wanted to forget Jimmy Palmer.

Jimmy sighed, spotting her shiver, taking her by shock as he took off his own coat draping it over her shoulders.

She held it against her hating the feeling of warmth that washed over her both at the warmth of the wool coat and the sweetness of the action. She managed to speak averting her eyes from him. “Thank you.”

The two stood in silence for a moment unsure of where to go from here. What could they say in a moment like this?

Y/N broke the silence, her voice soft and broken. “Why did you have to do it Jimmy? The damn necklace, why? You made everything too real.”

Jimmy sighed knowing exactly what she was asking. He spoke unable to stop himself from speaking the truth. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

She closed her eyes, a deep sigh leaving her. Jimmy spoke again needing to just say the words. “I love you Y/N, I love you. I know our situation isn’t typical, but I can’t deny how I feel.”

She shook her head, her eyes beginning to water as she gazed up at him. “You can’t be in love with me.”

“Why not, give me one good reason why I can’t.” Jimmy replied far too stubborn to let this go.

She spoke the words coming to her so easily. “Look at how we met Jimmy. Everything about this thing we have, it was all you paying me for my time. We never even had a real date where you didn’t pay me for my companionship. How do you even know what you feel for me is real?”

“I don’t care if I was paying you. I don’t care how any of this started. I know it’s real. I feel it everytime I look at you. I can’t deny how I feel about you Y/N. I love you. My mind is always with you. Anytime I have a moment of peace my mind goes to you and it feels like my heart is always with you. I can’t stop myself from loving you. I may have been paying you, but everything between us has been real. I’ve always been myself with you and I think I trust you enough to know that you’ve always been yourself with me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before you. It’s real to me. I love you.” He insisted reaching out, taking her hand in his relieved that she didn’t pull it away.

She shook her head still wanting to deny this. This wouldn’t work. Couldn’t he see it? “What kind of foundation is that to build any kind of relationship on? You can’t be in love with me not when it started like this. What are you going to tell people when they ask how you met me? Are you really prepared to deal with people assuming the worst about us?”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. If they can’t accept how I feel about you then I don’t want them in my life.” He insisted his hand not leaving hers as he stepped closer to her.

He stared down at her speaking from the heart needing to say it. “We can start again if that’s what it takes. If this can’t be our foundation then we can build a new one. We can start over.”

He paused letting go of her hand and holding his hand out to her as he spoke. “Hi it’s nice to meet you, my name is James Palmer, but my friends call me Jimmy. I work as a medical examiner’s assistant for NCIS. I’m currently taking classes to become a Dr. Palmer so I can take my medical examiner’s license exam. I like overly sweet coffee and I’ve been told I tell really terrible jokes. I’d like to take you out on a date, actually I’d like to take you on several dates.”

She couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her lips both hating and adoring that he was this sweet. Could he be right? Could they build an entirely new foundation? Could they start again?

She stared up at him, the answer so obvious. It was inevitable really. They’d set themselves on this path the second she’d responded to that first message he’d sent her. There was no denying how she felt.

She gave him her answer, leaning up her lips pressing to his. He managed to realize exactly what was happening easily, his hands pressing to her face deepening the kiss, it being everything he’d dreamed it might be.

She spoke as she reluctantly pulled from the kiss her voice soft. “I would love to go on several dates with you. As long as I can pay for some of those dates.”

He gave her a soft smile, his lips pressing back to hers as she spoke. “I love you Jimmy.”

He smiled into the kiss it growing in passion so effortlessly.

She spoke her voice soft as she once again pulled her lips from his. “I don’t want to be your sugar baby anymore. I think I’d rather just be yours.”

He pressed his lips to hers the answer leaving him before his lips met hers. “I don’t want to be your Sugar Daddy anymore. I’m already yours.”

#Jimmy Palmer #Jimmy Palmer x Reader #NCIS #Jimmy Palmer fanfic

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sinagrama · 4 years

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Hello! I was wondering if I could request something with yandere Chrollo. I only just found your blog and I must say you write beautifully. Thank you for what you've written so far!

Thank you so much!

By the way, Chrollo is one of my favourite characters of all time :´)

This takes place in the Yorkshin arc, when Kortopi creates the fake bodies of some Phatom Troupe members.

Yes, I was slightly inspired by Will Graham (Hannibal).

Warnings: numerous crimes listed, violence, corpses.

Empathy.

Your body wasn’t fit for battle, you knew that much. You had no strength, no stamina, no speed. Still, it did not matter: you were no good fighting, but your talent resided elsewhere.

You were incredibly empathic.

Mirroring feelings, confusing them for your own, visualising the pain of others and understanding their circumstances.

That was the reason why you decided to work for the police department, more specifically, in the forensics unit. You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but when you saw the corpse of a victim (looked into their dead, unseeing eyes, slightly touched their skin) you recreated the scene of the murder in your mind as if you were the killer.

It was a useless ability for fighting, but it saved so many lives. With your help, a serial killer could be caught in a short amount of time.

Not taking into consideration your mental exhaustion or the way you slowly lost yourself to the feelings of those who were inhumane, you forced yourself to keep working and touching the unfeeling bodies, trying to piece the untold stories together.

Empathy, however, was a vile thing. It was incredible, for not many possessed it, but it was a double edged sword. Depending on those who you were around, your personality changed. There was nothing you could do about it: if you mingled with nice people, you became incredibly sweet, if you were surrounded by criminals, you began thinking like them. So, becoming a murderer, even if it was just for a few seconds, destroyed your sense of morality and threatened to disrupt your sanity. Or, at least, it threatened the feeling of normality you were supposed to have, the one you desperately held on to in order to live in the society you faced.

There was a darkness inside you, no doubt - you were aware of this. However, it might’ve bloomed because of your line of work. You couldn’t really distinguish your emotions from others’. Whenever you saw someone weaker than you, you vaguely wondered how it would feel like to break them. Those thoughts made you shudder, and still you did not know if it was due to disgust or pleasure.

Here you sat, facing yet another corpse. The stillness of death was almost poetic, the pale skin of the man and his glazed over eyes were beautiful, in a sick, twisted way. Morbid.

“Chrollo Lucifer” the man spits his name like a curse. You aren’t familiar with it, though. It rings no bells. They dump his corpse as if it were trash. “The head of the Gen’ei Ryodan.”

Now, that surprises you. So, it seems as if the mighty spider leader has been caught and crushed. Your shoulders tremble slightly, the beginning of a laugh. Oh, the irony.

“What happened?” You inquire. His eyes are so dark, like endless voids that fit his face perfectly well. You don’t have to touch this man-boy to know he had been like glass when he was alive, broken and sharpened with time. Deadly.

“Murdered by the Zoldycks” the police man says, and still something pools in your gut at that. Your instinct tells you something is wrong.

“The Zoldycks? No, I don’t think so.” Your voice is soft, a mere whisper. You have never been too loud.

“What do you mean?” He taunts. He challenges you. It isn’t the first time this has happened - most men don’t believe any of your analysis. You feel a thrum of hatred, fuelled by thick, growing envy.

This man hates you for he is older than you, stronger than you, and still you prove him wrong.

“These injuries are too sloppy” you don’t look at him. Instead, you are consumed by the dead. “I have seen Zoldyck work before - it is refined, controlled, meticulous. They use their victims to advertise their business, after all. They show their abilities, and their expertise. This is a child’s doing - sloppy, sloppy.” Disinterest soon takes over your words, and you end up slurring them.

“What are you implying? That another assassin killed them?” It is the plural that finally makes you understand there’s more victims. More dead spiders. You feel like giggling.

“I’ll see it in a moment” you place you fingertips lightly on his pale chest - the contact is cold and firm.

Nothing happens.

This makes you frown. You have never experienced this before. It normally took the barest touch to make you visualise the killing. It’s strange, and therefore you try again. It proves to be futile.

“Have you done anything to the body? Damaged it more?” That’s the only thing you can think of, but still it shouldn’t interfere with your ability. The police man looks at you weirdly, but shakes his head.

“No, but I was tempted.”

A shaky sigh escapes your lips. This doesn’t make sense. You have used this method with every single victim that has passed through the lab, no matter their age, gender, killer, or the fact that they use nen. Therefore, this can only mean that Chrollo Lucifer is not human, but thinking that is absurd.

“Hand me the knife” you tell the man, holding out your hand. You have a very odd feeling about this. What if this is... a copy? When you are given the weapon, you hold it tightly with both hands and pierce his abdomen. You proceed to gut him with almost surgical precision. The horrified gasp that sounds next to you mirrors your own terror: there is nothing inside the corpse. “Its hollow.”

No blood, no organs, no muscle - just empty space, filled by a dark nen. Damn.

“The bodies are fake.”

————

The news spread quickly, but they aren’t treated with seriousness. Every single mafia member ignores them, talking about your mental state instead.

What an absurd assumption! Fitting for a marginal girl that relies on her gut and no facts!

Its ridiculous, really. What they are saying, instead, is that the Zoldycks drained the Gen’ei Ryodan members from inside. Seriously, both theories were equally idiotic (or equally valid, if you knew about the existence of nen). The harsh reality is what it is: your ideas are ignored, discarded as if they were a mad woman’s. However, you can’t forget the emptiness of that stomach, the thrill of power that emanated from the nen that the body stored.

It was truly a magnificent copy, beautifully crafted, detailed. A pity, the fact that it did not last more than two days. The mafia had gone crazy about it, believing the corpses to have been stolen. You supposed that thinking that made more sense than believing them to have disappeared into thin air.

It has been three days since you had seen the body, two since the news had gone out into the world, only to crash on the ground before your feet. Your reputation is scarred. No one believes you, now, for this case has gained popularity, and therefore your bosses can only focus on your wild assumptions, instead of remembering your past victories against psychopaths. Also, the mafia has a huge influence among the high charges of the law. Both factors, you’re sure, will make your life a living nightmare from now on.

You enter your apartment with a sigh, and throw your bag across the hall, not minding where it lands. You just want to get rid of some of your pent up frustration, caused by the ignorance of some people.

When you turn towards your living room, you see them. There’s only three, but still their presence makes you freeze on the spot. They’re already watching you: the famous Lucifer, unwavering gaze going through you, is sitting on your sofa. Next to him, there is a blonde woman that is tall and slender. She has the face of an angel, and still holds two guns in both her hands. At Chrollo’s feet, a small child - or at least, what you believe to be a child - his hair is messy and you can barely see his left eye.

There is a moment of uncomfortable silence, where you just stare at each other. You understand why they have broken into your home, though. Their master plan has been figured out, you have spread dangerous information that could’ve endangered their lives, and now you were going to die. Well, fine. You’ve been surrounded by death since the very beginning, you don’t mind her taking you away now.

Hm, is this resignation yours, or are you mirroring their thoughts? You wonder, sometimes.

You slowly take a seat in front of them, because you have a feeling that this is going to take a while, and because you know there is no point in fighting back when you are powerless against three members of an A-bounty criminal gang.

Looking into the eyes of each of them, you feel a twinge of familiarity in one of their auras.

“Did you do the copies?” You direct your question to the smallest of them all, ignoring the other two with a calmness you don’t normally feel. His response is a slight nod. “They were very well done. Very realistic. My congratulations to the artist.” A small flicker of amusement makes you curl your lips. The boy seems almost embarassed.

How unexpectedly fun.

“Paku.” Your attention snaps back to the leader. You know your eyes reflect his - bright intelligence, a twisted, dark humor.

A hand is placed on your shoulder, and you don’t fight it.

“How did you know?” Her voice is interesting, sensual but blunt. You like it. Her eyes are expressive, though.

“Oh, so you’re the heart of the spider.” That unsettles her, it seems, if her slight furrowing of brows is anything to go by. “He is the head, I know. But you are the heart, slightly more empathic than the rest.” She seems surprised, and then, almost offended.

“I could kill you, now.” Calm, but challenging.

“I don’t doubt it. I never said you were a saint.” What were you, seeking death? You really were testing their patience. How long would a challenging fool last? Your eyes twinkled, excited.

She seems a bit put off, but in a second she schools her expression.

“Danchou, she has an interesting nen ability. She is an empath, acts like those around her, understands them, becomes them, if need be.” After speaking, she crosses her arms and walks back to her leader.

How pitiful, no more than a loyal dog. Your chest rumbles: the beginning of a laugh.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.” He states, his expression seems unfazed, but you pick up the slight interest that flashes in his eyes.

“I am.”

“Aren't you scared?” he doesn't use a mocking tone, but one of genuine curiosity. You could bet your life on the fact that this man has never met someone that has had a reaction similar to yours. Surely, he has met cowards, fearful hostages, proud ones, too. Maybe one or two brave people. But a person that imitates his own behavior? You doubt it.

“Not really.” you answer. It is laced with a hint of amusement, you act out his inner feelings, but you are unable of controlling your expression. His face is as blank as could be, and it thrills you. “I don't like people like you, but I must admit I've met worse.”

“Oh?” you decide to take the bait, after a moment.

“I have seen many things during my career. I suppose it was to be expected, as I was diving right into the criminal world.” A breath. “I have seen mangled bodies with their faces twisted painfully due to torture. Small children that have been killed prematurely because of a man’s desires, necrophiliacs that used young girls for their own pleasure. Of course, some of these killers haven’t murdered as many as you and your friends have, but their methods are more terrifying. I have no doubt about it - you kill because you value material things - antiquities, scarlet eyes, whatever you desire - true, but there are monsters out there that harm for nothing at all. They dream about harming for the sake of it. Your group has done some heists throughout the years; but I see these crimes every day.”

“And still, you chose this path.”

“And still, I chose this path.” You agree.

“Why? When you could’ve avoided it?”

“Why, indeed?” You muse, think out loud, because you don’t really know what made you want to doom yourself in such a way. “I’m good at it, I suppose. I can help people.” Was that what motivated you, a long time ago? Possibly. “Would you have avoided being a thief, if your circumstances had been different?”

Silence stretched between you. His expression grew unexpectedly cold, but you did not feel fear.

“What does that matter, anyway?” His inner turmoil was perfectly masked, but the air had changed drastically.

“I suppose it doesn’t.” Your voice took a turn, from mocking to infuriatingly humble. “Well, what brings you here? I guess you were planning on killing me?”

“Not really.” His tone was nonchalant, even if his eyes were still distant (and so very alive). “I wanted to steal your ability, but I’m not interested in that, anymore.”

It is your turn to look surprised. What confused you wasn’t only the fact that he had used the term to ‘steal’, but the new glimmer that lightenened his features. You cocked your head to the side, intrigued despite the knowledge that you should fear for your well being.

“Paku, Kortopi, go outside for a moment.” It takes a second and then they’re gone, leaving the room strangely empty. The window has been opened, and the cold air chills you to the bone. The spider head is quick to close it. Chrollo walks gracefully, with a confidence not many possess, and when he turns, he walks towards you.

Feeling slightly intimidated by his composure, you find yourself lowering your head and watching his every movement as he inevitably moves closer. This man is dangerous. There is no doubt about it. Maybe you were wrong: maybe you should consider this thief to be more cruel than all those psycothic killers you were forced to become every day, because he was not blinded by humane desires. Instead, he was aware of every single one of his actions: he was maddeningly calculating, and he had enough power to take and take and take.

A shudder runs down your spine, and you see his eyes following the movement of your trembling body. You had been foolish, you realise, allowing yourself to be swept by the presence of three thieves that overflowed confidence and wickedness.

“So you truly lose yourself to people, then.” He smirks slightly, the slightest hint of teeth. He looked like a predator. “I wonder - if you stay by my side, what will you become on the long-run?”

Panic fills your brain - you’ve become prey.

#yandere chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo #hunter x hunter #hxh #anime #kuroro #yandere kuroro #phantom troupe #pakunoda #empath #kortopi #yandere #chrollo x reader #Kuroro x reader

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withinsnow · 3 years

Note

Hey do you have any mdzs fanfic recs

Hello there!

Fic recs hm? I do have a collection of fics I really love, so of course I'd like to share it lol. I'm going to come clean here and admit I'm extremely biased towards any kind of horror story. Body-horror, psychological horror, horror with fairy tale elements, all my jam. While the fics on this list won't all be horror, a number of them will. So yeah. I also tried to keep this list to fics that aren't on the first 10 pages of the ao3 tag, except the first one. Recs under the cut.

Sleep in your bed

Across the table, Jiang Cheng looks up from his study book and rolls his eyes heavenward like he’s seen this circus too many times already. And sure, Wei WuXian has slept in the campus library before, but this is the first time a handsome stranger with angry eyes has called him out because of it.

or; Wei WuXian has a tendency to fall asleep in places where he shouldn't. Lan WangJi disapproves.

This one's a bit of a classic. I think it's the first mdzs fic I read, so it obviously holds a special place in my heart. A lighthearted modern-au.

Ashes and moonlight

For a long time, what separated gods and demons was defined only by where they went: up or down.

A crossover fic between mdzs and tgcf. While it's still unfinished, it won't leave you unsatisfied. What I like about this one is the way the author weaves the worldbuilding of both stories into something that works really well. The characters fits naturally into the universe and none of the encounters or relationships feels forced.

Mondengel's works. Though I'm especially taken with the horror/body-horror ones (who'd have thought?)

Wireless

The Jiang Sect was famous for it's marvelous creations. Lan Wangji is just as enthralled as everyone else until he gets a closer look.

Metamorphosis

He died desperately trying to fulfill his beloved wife's wish to have her family whole.

Phantom leashes

It was a good thing Lan Xichen was born first.

I'm not going to say much about any of these, it's best to go in unprepared.

Calling heaven

Lan Wangji had not wanted to come at all.

Not exactly horror, but the concept and vivid imagery is right down my lane

This bitch flutin in the strip club

Wei WuXian’s first scolding at the Cloud Recesses’ summer program for gifted young musicians comes from another student.

Another of the earlier fics I read. Musicians au. Not much to say about this except that it's really nice and I wholeheartedly recommend it.

Operational amplifier

Lan Wangji has never been good with words, or at writing. But, if it'll allow him to imagine a world where Wei Wuxian could actually love him back, he supposes it couldn't hurt to try.

(Or, the one where Lan Wangji copes with his Feelings by writing self-insert fics. Yeah.)

As much as the premise of lwj writing self-insert fics is hilariously silly, the fic is far less cracky than you might think. In a good way.

Night of sixth magnitude stars

Lan WangJi gave him a disapproving look as they left the classroom. “You can’t be late every time.”

Wei WuXian walked with light steps, seemingly in a happy mood. “They can’t fault me if I want to spend more time with the only student who really listens to me.”

Lan WangJi followed reluctantly, because Wei WuXian always made him follow, even when he was driving him crazy.

Another early one. Been a while since I last read it and yup, still a feel-good to me.

The bone museum

The figure turns around, and the bones go silent.

Ah, Wei Wuxian thinks. So this is why churches are so quiet. He’s never been a religious man, but he gets it, suddenly. The need to pause, to take in, to remember what it means to breathe; to wonder what it meant to breathe before this.

Look I'm always a sucker for morbid, surreal humour. Short and silly with a sprinkle of bone puns.

The hollow tree

There is a strange man who lives by the woods.

Wei Wuxian narrows his eyes. He smiles, but it’s not kind. Sharp teeth that are nothing but predatory. “Don’t you know what they say about me? What I do to the likes of you who leave the woods? Tell me, little monster, do they still tell stories of my deeds, of the mercy I don’t give?”

As always, there’s no reply. But the shadow—Wei Wuxian gets the faint sense that it’s unimpressed with him. That makes him laugh. He puts his teeth away and leans his chin on the palm of his hand to watch it curiously. “You’re not afraid of me,” he murmurs, “I like you, maybe I won’t eat you.”

I really like the "story told around a campfire" feel this one has. I'm fond of fantastical worldbuilding that focus less on thorough explanations and more on 'vibes', if you get what I mean.

The sun must set to rise

The stygian tiger seal gives Wei Wuxian the ability to take things from his dreams. The catch is: he can't control it.

(He dreams of five impossible things: a sun, a box that plays music, a hairpin with moving carvings, an impossible bird and a necklace with a butterfly pendant.)

Another story with surreal elements. Introspective on wwx's state of mind during and after the sunshot campaign.

Seasons change

Lan Wangji loves Wei Wuxian in every season.

Short and sweet on lwj's love through the seasons. Post-canon.

Buried in the sky, hallowed by thy depths

If you listen, the mountains of Gusu sing in the evening, as the sun is going down.

That’s what they say in Caiyi Town, where the clear and cold mountain streams flow into the lake. The streams are deep, the locals know. They say they carry the melody down from up high. From Cloud Recesses.

There are reasons it is forbidden to enter the Cloud Recesses after dark.

I love mermaid/siren aus, especially those which reflect upon inhuman nature and what it means to embrace it. Also the #fastburn tag got me.

The courtship of wyrms

As the war rolls through Qishan, a group of Lan disciples are separated from the Sunshot forces, disappearing into a Wen-controlled forest.

They are certainly already dead, and so rescue is impossible. Nie Mingjue's orders are clear: no one is to go after Lan Wangji and the other missing disciples.

But Wei Wuxian has never been good at following orders.

There's never enough sunshot campaign fics imo, and I like how this one explore the conflicting feelings between violence and mercy, justice and revenge. A nice introspection on rediscovering oneself in the face of war and violence.

Hope you see something you like!

#fic recs #me every time I added a fic to the list: gosh I have to reread this one #some I haven't read in a long time so my memories are a bit fuzzy

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reynie-muldoons · 3 years

Text

'The Art of Conveyance and Round-Trippery' Liveblog!

Sorry this is a few days late!! I moved across the country this weekend, we drove like 13 hours within 2 days and we did a lot of heavy lifting. I'm exhausted, but the boxes are slowly emptying and I've been wanting to watch this episode so gd bad, so LESGO

Over halfway through the season!!!! That's absolutely surreal

1:11 oooh they're getting their royal fitting

1:22 LMAOO WTF 😂😂 Princess Diaries vibes

1:42 ✨CONFIDENCE✨

1:52 Alfonse is a perfect name for that guy HAHA

2:05 Nathaniel, my guy, you've made some points

2:11 "do you feel your power?" POWER RANGERS, GO

2:24 no no hesitation just prolly thinkin bout how he was caught cheatin

2:39 "can you not allow yourselves luxury?" okay fr I feel that I get Nice Things Guilt(tm) too easily

2:52 dayummmm let's talk about Sticky being a hat stall between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, mans is brave as fuck under extreme pressure and loyal to the point of putting himself on the line

3:15 bro Sticky getting some recognition. Love to see it, he deserves it

3:19 "is that a coincidence? Or written in the stars?" IS DR. CURTAIN CATCHING ON THAT THEY KNEW EACH OTHER BEFORE OR LIKEEEE

3:49 WHAT WORD AROUND CAMPUS 😭😭😭 MY BOYS ARE NOT A MISTAKE HOW DARE YOU

4:09 why doess the action of Dr. Curtain putting the sash on them seem so nefarious

4:36 I dont really understand the whole pastel yellow, blue, and pink palette of the school but the boys both look pretty okay in their vest-sash getup

4:42 THE OPENINGGGGG. This shit slaps.

5:41 Kate and Constance look so fucking cute in that shot, dont ask me why but hnnggggg

5:54 sash rope 😂😭 kate, honey, that's a reach

6:09 it might feel buttery, but, my guy, it also looks buttery. It's literally the color of butter. Get yourself some crisco

6:24 I find it kinda interesting that they made up new riddles for the show, I'm almost positive that that one wasn't in the book. Correct me if I'm wrong though

7:03 "I'm not gonna apologize for knowing things" the sass. the ✨confidence✨. living for it

7:03 If they build on that it sets Sticky up really nicely for the arc in the second book where he starts to show off a little

7:15 tiny Constance who is constantly dressed in pink with cute little braids is the perfect medium for the most morbid comments 😂😂

7:55 Martina's hot in her uniform. Can't prove me wrong.

8:15 why does that make me sad 🥺 eat with your friendssss. iirc they only talked about eating at the Messenger table in the books

8:26 dipshits forgot their lunches. Seems Constance is holding the communal braincell atm

8:50 anyone have Guiness on speed dial? Reynie and Sticky have a submission for them

9:25 oh hello this was alluded to in the preview!!! Morse code is compromised, rip

10:05 so are Jackson and Jillson stuck with night guard duty all the time?? They've been outside at night a lot

10:18 ahhhhhh the little blinkie light, stopppp

10:25 MILLIGANNNNN!!!

10:25 so is this the point where he starts staying on the island with them????

10:39 so are they just like "fuck it we'll do it right before sundown" ???? Like Jackson and Jillson are still gonna be on the lookout, they aren't gonna chill just because it's not fully dark

10:50 did the kids.....just not tell them that Mr. Bloom was on the island 😂 nice oversight guys

11:05 MADGE TIME MADGE TIME

11:05 remind me to tell you guys a story about Madge, I may or may not have done something irl a few years ago that would make y'all proud 😂😂😂

11:16 idk why but it makes me so happy that they kept Madge as a peregrine falcon

11:37 Rhonda, my love, you have my heart in your hands

11:46 roll credits

12:05 THE HEAD SHAKE HAHAHAH

12:06 Awww man, I was so excited for Milligan to be on the island .-. He must have been scoping out the inlet

12:07 "they're quite regal" A. I read the subtitles as "legal" the first time and that's somehow really in character for him, and B. IS MILLIGAN GOING TO NAME HER???!? HER MAJESTY???? PLEASE I WOULD LOVE THAT SO MUCH

12:15 his grimace KILLS ME

12:17 the hard cut from Nicholas in a brown setting and brown suit to Nathaniel in a blue setting and blue suit was lowkey striking

12:36 are they looking up Morse code 😳 can you imagine if they wrote down the message and are now decoding it

12:41 omfg all that for a HAT 🙃 I feel stupid

12:51 two things: 1. Those walls are atrocious, and 2. Yeah, talk about Morse code in a louder voice Connie girl, you're just in a public hallway

13:03 I'm sorry but those orange pillar things are not the vibe

13:03 the golden gate bridge called, they want their arches back

13:10 please let Kate climb the tower before the end of season 1. please.

13:22 y'all are about to be flying something else 😎

13:33 cleansing breaths

13:47 OH HELLO MESSENGER DUTY ALREADY??

14:06 what the heck is that teal pole for 😭😭

14:12 blindfold timeeee

I'm so sorry but I'm exhausted, it's 11:30 pm on Sunday night right now, I'll finish this episode tomorrow morning after I get some sleepies

Good morningggg lesgetatit

14:50 "vomit of metal" ashhdjdjd

15:16 a wild Martina appears!

15:36 and if you folks look to your left, you'll see a wild Constance being the voice of reason once again

15:57 "lose the bucket" "I'm not gonna do that" HELL YEAH KATE

16:07 I get not having the bucket on the court lolol, I thought Martina was telling Kate to lose the bucket in general. Like, yeah, good luck convincing her to so that

16:35 show!Kate is much angrier than book!Kate and I'm still deciding how I feel about that. The Kate we've known from the books is a sunshine baby with looots of repressed trauma.

17:03 ......what is that. why is that.

17:11 WAIT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE REYNIE AHEHDJDJD

17:15 HI MADGE

17:41 the grand swell in the music makes me think it's going to go comically wrong

17:51 she's majestic because she's a queen 🥺

18:03 LMAO CALLED IT

18:14 Rhonda and Number Two getting at each other is such a sisterly thing to do 😂😂😂

18:37 ohhhhh? Someone's approaching? Miss Perumal perhaps????

18:45 YEAHHHHH BABY

18:50 PROTECTIVE MOM COMIN IN HOT!!!

19:22 THEYRE SO PRECIOUS 😭😭😭😭 I feel like I've been subconsciously starved for her and Mr. Benedict's interactions

19:36 died at that line in the one trailer

20:00 so Miss Perumal pulled a Sherlock Holmes. Love that for her

20:20 Cheri Tupintown??? Of all the aliases they could pick, Cheri Tupintown???

20:33 "Power in Truth Inc" that HAS to be something Rhonda came up with

21:01 you can literally watch Mr. Benedict realize that this is a woman not to be fucked with and he is CORRECT

21:23 "he's fine. Perfectly fine." At this, Mr. Benedict's pants caught aflame.

21:52 something about Constance sitting in on practice!!! It scratches an itch!!!!

22:19 "incorporate the helix. Live in the helix." Lord Helix is pleased with this offering.

22:26 so what I'm hearing is Kate is going to blow up on Constance for messing with the bucket

23:13 unrelated but Jillson'a shoes are cute

23:29 why does this room give off Johnny Depp's willy wonka vibes

24:13 that looks like a chair from a doctor's office waiting room 😭

25:29 they do be egg heads tho

26:02 baby girl, I have no idea why you're crying at weird art but let me dry your tears 🥺🥺

26:50 SHE FOUND ITTTT

27:27 okay Indiana Jones, go off

27:46 why did that kinda sound like Miss Perumal

28:43 the return of everyone's favorite, "enjoyable"

29:05 not that I'm not loving the ice breaker questions and the one-sided conversation, but I'm not loving it

29:22 oh so we're getting right into it aren't we

29:54 his eyes being open again makes this infinitely creepier

30:36 "where's your proof?" Miss Perumal doesnt fuck around!!!

31:29 you're telling me Constance has been there all day?? And Kate went to find her???? 🥺

31:58 oh so we're getting right to it then?? Kate addressing her independence and trust issues arc????

33:29 NEWS!!!!

33:49 CONSTANCE RIDING PIGGYBACK!!!!!!

34:04 okay, so they opened the murder hole, what are they gonna do now

34:59 Italian? 🤨 m'sir that is so fancy

34:59 fun story I learned Italian diction in college, so I know a little bit

35:16 "take your time" the whisperer says, immediately repeating the prompt to get the answer sooner

35:31 theeeeere it is

35:46 SOMETHING ABOUT THE WHISPERER SAYING "YOU ARE HOME" 😭😭😭 the show really played up the cult shit!!

36:02 Kate being protective of Constance 🥺

36:20 ohhh shit is it time for Connie girl to have double Reynie? Double Sticky?

36:36 STICKY

36:52 "what kind of nonsense?" HAVE THEY NOT ASKED THAT BEFORE THIS?????

37:14 "and your tiny brain can somehow pick it up!!" KATE STOP 😂😂😂

37:16 "I knew you had to be special in some way." WE DONT HAVE TIME TO UNPACK ALL OF THAT

37:51 she's right, this is disregard for their safety. The show made Mr. Benedict and his team a lot more back-alley and dishonest, and Miss Perumal has every reason to be pissed

38:30 oh good they finally remembered he has narcolepsy

39:38 and the best mom award goes to:

40:38 I was gonna say that this hallway is how I imagined the KEEP in riddle of ages but then I remembered that (spoilers) the Institute is the KEEP

40:46 oh, hello propoganda

41:10 that's the other person Rhonda couldn't contact, along with Mr. Bloom. This has to be the brainsweeping process

41:22 yeppppp

41:44 this dark doctor's office theme gives me horror movie vibes

42:22 ohhhh, so that's how they replaced that scene where the four of them jump in a crate to hide and Sticky drops his glasses in the open

42:47 and so we've come to the part of the story where Sticky and Reynie become infinitely more conflicted

42:47 and since we've reached that point..... can we have the white knight scene? Pretty please? Please Disney I'm begging you-

43:12 so Reynie just figured that out without Constance? :/

44:03 love the manipulation

44:31 I'm sorry, the farm?

44:35 farm and forest????

45:16 "the Emergency has served its purpose" 😳 well okay then murder man

45:39 "one thought, one purpose" the hive mind rises once more

45:48 LOVE THE MANIPULATION

46:07 "what have you done to earn anyone's trust?" VALID

46:26 "please do!" WHY AM I EMOTIONAL

47:06 "we still have the falcon" that you do 😂

47:19 AYYY HERE WE GO!!! Time for Milligan to stay on the island??

47:49 ohhhh Constance, casual telepath strikes again

48:16 "stop it, Kate!" OOOOHHHHH

48:53 that line ("it would be nice to be unburdened") would be funny as shit if not for the fact that Constance is a telepath unbeknownst to herself and can both subconsciously perceive people's thoughts and hear the subliminal messages

49:20 HI MRS. PERUMAL!!!

49:25 wow, she's really going through with it 😳 not that I doubted her, but still, that's dedication

49:39 OH SHIT

50:17 oh, so he's an asshole to SQ too. Got it. Torches and pitchforks? Ready to kick his ass?

50:40 "for the moment, anyway" FUCKIN WHAT

This episode was really good!!! They covered a LOT. I hope Miss Perumal comes back to the group and talks about her findings, I hope Milligan goes to get the kids and they tell him no, and I hope they get that classic 4-person Society brainstorming and binding time that hits that sweet spot

#mbs disney+#mbs liveblog #the art of conveyance and round trippery #the mysterious benedict society #charity's talkies

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

what if we ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : college au; roommates au

❖ word count : 4,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : Minho is more than fed up with your nonsense of not having a roommate until you graduate because he’s desperately in need of a new place after getting kicked out.

❖ a/n : the continuation of roommate lino is out now!

one.

Minho takes dreadful strides into M.I.A Cafe, completely waterlogged from head to toe like a wet rat, drained from trying to walk back home without an umbrella—even if he had one, the wind would have taken him along with it on an exhilarating ride while Poseidon is throwing a rampage at Zeus or whatever gods up there.

He slumps into the nearest seat possible, sinking deeply into the cushioned surface only to stain the blue velvet with his sodden leather jacket. Anyone else happening upon the scene might notice a more than average looking college kid; Minho’s mesmerizing, he really is. But not just because of his catlike smile or stupidly good hair without even trying, it’s also because he’s the president of the dance club despite being a business major. It’s not hard for him to gain even more attention since he works at the cafe on campus anyway.

However, all Woojin sees from overlooking his workplace is his idiotic coworker who left ten minutes ago has officially given up on going against the bloody family feud above and come back to make his life miserable. Kang is going to give him shit for the wet cushions because Minho’s shift has fortunately ended. And it only gets worse from there. The younger boy pushes himself off the chair and flings his dripping bangs away from his face before taking off his jacket, deciding it’s a good idea to sway it back and forth, splashing water all over the clean floor.

“Lee Minho,” Woojin raises his voice slightly but Minho simply ignores his threatening tone and stuffs his leather jacket into his backpack.

The brunet makes his way over to the countertop, hopping effortlessly onto one of the bar stools. “I would like a Vietnamese coffee, please,” Minho shows his friend those ridiculous looking sparkly eyes like he just stepped out from an anime, and Woojin forces a smile through gritted teeth. “Come on, I’m tired, don’t look at me as if I’m in charge of the weather or something.”

Woojin remains silent, and so does his death glare. Hence, Minho gives in and props his head onto his hand lazily. “Fine, just give me a hot chocolate, I’m freezing over here,” he shivers stoically as his brain is multitasking (yelling at him and considering his options at the same time). With the sky roaring as if it’s raging on with other supernatural forces, Minho isn’t overly fond of heading outside by himself again. Meaning, plan A: get a ride or plan B: stay with Woojin until his graveyard shift is over. Minho’s having an eight AM tomorrow and he’s not about to walk up to the nurse’s office with a broken ankle for skipping three steps at a time. But in what world would a guardian angel appear out of nowhere to drive him home?

A random Twitter notification pops up and he swipes it away dejectedly, wholly uninterested. When Woojin slides the paper cup across the countertop, he catches a glimpse of Minho’s lock screen and gasps as if he just saw something out of the ordinary. It’s not. “You replaced your cats’ photo with Y/N’s instead? Okay, I see you, you sly little bitch,” he chuckles creepily while wiping his hand onto the white apron.

“It’s temporary,” Minho sneers like a cat having someone step on its tail. “Besides, she hates it, that’s why I put it there.”

“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Woojin is making a big deal out of this as if it’s a picture of you cuddling Minho or something. But in reality, it’s just a really ugly photo of you taking too big of a bite when he decided to flex his paycheck and took you out to a pizzeria. You forgave him because 1) you had the opportunity to eat real pizza after months of stocking up frozen ones from the supermarket, and 2) it’s only a matter of time until he’s over it and returns to his typical photos of his cats at home.

“Yo,” Minho says after a sip of the hot beverage. “You’re moving out of Seungmin’s next week?”

Woojin replies, silently appreciating one of the rare civil conversations with his friend. “Yep, you? Don’t tell me that you haven’t found a place yet,” he stops himself right there, only to be met with complete dead silence. “Wait, you’re kidding, right? Aren’t you getting kicked out on Monday? How are you gonna find a place within three days?”

“Tough luck?” Minho shrugs nonchalantly, staring rather deeply at his lock screen, and an idea pops up inside his head. He feels the need to kick himself because he should have thought of this sooner. Biting his lower lip, he’s slightly nervous when his thumb taps onto your name in his contact. It’s not like you’re gonna rip his head off, why is he so jumpy about this anyway?

His train of thoughts get cut off when your raspy voice rings through his eardrums, “What do you want?”

two.

Your white Rover pulls up in front of the cafe after five minutes of cursing at him through the phone while dragging yourself out of bed and another ten to drive to your unwanted destination.

“Get in before I rip your head off,” you deadpan, pushing your bangs away from your face.

“I love you, did you know that?” Your heart totally didn’t skip a beat at that. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t have meant it. It was lighthearted, it sounded lighthearted but was it supposed to be lighthearted? Great, now your heart just gives up on you while your brain is harassing you with some stupid assumptions without valid shreds of evidence.

Minho smiles sheepishly at you after waving to Woojin—who isn’t very interested in his departure and enters your car in relief. Although you were doing nothing but spitting strings after strings of curse words at him, it genuinely made him feel at ease when he heard your voice through the phone, hanging by three percent of battery left.

“Also, spill the hot chocolate, and I’m gonna throw you on the highway,” you warn him before starting the engine. The only problem with your morbid remarks is that Lee Minho is exclusively immune to them because he too, shares the same amount of insanity with you like how you both shared a sad tuna sandwich last Tuesday when the school canteen tried to recreate a Chipotle bowl. You both tasted it. And you were offended.

Minho tosses his backpack to the backseats and replies in monotone, “I won’t, just don’t kill us. That’s all I’m asking from you.” He looks awfully good for someone who’s completely rain-soaked. How fucking unfair.

“That’s all?” you question without looking at him in the eye. He only hums a random melody from a song that you can’t quite remember before plugging his phone in with your speakers. Your face morphs into a frown at his vague reaction, “Usually one thing leads to another, you never ask me for a single favor and just leave me alone, are you sure that you didn’t forget your wallet and now you wanted a new tattoo?”

He breaks into a fit of giggles at that, three are already enough for his ancestors to haunt him in his sleep. And your heart magically comes back more alive than ever at the sound; it really needs to stop doing that before you’re found dead on the street just by talking to him on the phone or something. “It’s not that,” Minho scratches the nape of his neck. “I’m basically gonna be homeless next week if I don’t manage to find a new place in like...three days.”

The car grows silent for a second there before Didn’t know me by Heize starts blasting through the speakers when he puts one of his playlists on random. You look over at him deep in the eye, thinking rather thoroughly about this. And Minho starts feeling knots in his stomach when you avert your gaze back onto the road. Are you perhaps...mad at him?

“Don’t-even-think-about-it,” you deadpan. “You know how Yeji pleaded to move in with me after freshman year, and..failed miserably.”

“Come on! You can’t be this heartless, are you really gonna let me sleep on the sidewalk for a good three weeks?”

You click your tongue in annoyance while making a turn to the left. “I never said that you moron,” An eye roll soon follows your statement, and before Minho can even say anything, his mouth snaps shut, eyes wide. “You know that Chan lives alone right?”

He protests, “Chan always let Changbin and Jisung crash to make music. Besides, it’s a studio apartment, like hello? I’m not planning on losing my beauty sleep here. ”

“Woojin?”

“After the mess I made back there? He will murder me, Y/N,” Minho says without a single shred of fear in his voice, yet he’s giving you those Puss in Boots eyes as if he’s gonna let Woojin snap his head off that easily. Jeongin is still living on campus, and Minho would rather be sleeping with dead rats than sharing a room with Jisung because Seungmin would never let him step a foot onto his white carpet.

You scrunch your nose and ignore the golden specks in his eyes, “You didn’t even try asking him, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind housing you for a few weeks. He’s a good guy and definitely doesn’t hate your ass enough to not let you sleep in the living room.”

“But,” he pouts sadly, in which you’re completely unaffected by. But here’s what makes your chest swell. “I like spending time with you,” he mumbles under his breath. Huh? Your heart rate falls flat before coming back to thunder inside your chest cavity twice as fast. Did he really just-

Minho sighs, and suddenly his shoulders start getting heavy. He feels rejected, but he shouldn’t since it’s not mandatory for you to let him stay with you. Perhaps, he’s nothing but a complete nuisance in your eyes after all. “But if you say so,” he murmurs, eyes turning stormy and you can feel a pit at your stomach. “I guess I’m gonna call Woojin then..”

And he ends the conversation there, abruptly.

Raindrops knocking at your car’s windows. The sounds of his fingers tapping against the keyboard. Even your own rhythm of breathing. Everything’s piling onto your back as if you’ve just committed a terrible sin.

Woojin is really busy this year, preparing for grad school and everything. And your current courses are pretty easy to handle, it’d be mean of you to let him contain Lee Minho while working two jobs. Especially when he’s constantly turning in assignments at a single minute right before the deadline. So with the little amount of morality left, you tell yourself to stop being a little bitch and start considering the possibilities of having a roommate for the very first time.

“Fine,” you grumble after a good twenty seconds of thinking. “You can use my old air mattress, a month should be good before you’re able to find a new place. So we’re taking turns washing the dishes and splitting the bills in half, cool?”

Minho’s brain suddenly demands every part of his body to stop, his finger hovering over the ‘send’ button. “Gee okay, I get it, you don’t like having roommates. But you don’t have to be so pressed about it,” he concludes almost too fast for your brain cells to comprehend what’s going on in his mind. Was he even listening to you? “I knew you weren’t gonna let me stay with—“ His words instantly come to a halt, eyeballs ready to pop out of their respective sockets any second.

“What?” he blurts, round eyes staring right at you expectantly.

You scratch your nose with your ring finger when a coral tint rises on your cheekbones, something that you do a lot whenever you’re nervous. “I said you can come and stay with me for the time being,” you say lamely, having a spontaneous interest in the row of Sumikko Gurashi figures that Minho gave you on your birthday last year. “I don’t want you to poison Woojin with your cooking, roomie.”

“You’d better feed me then, Ramsay,” he beams with a bright smile—far brighter than the Sun itself and any of the stars above. And who were you kidding? It’s not his cooking that you’re worrying about. It’s not even Woojin that you’re worrying about. It’s him, you’re worried about him.

Besides, maybe you like spending time with him too.

three.

After a whole night of hauling three gigantic cardboard boxes along with two suitcases into your apartment, you drag Minho’s ass out of bed at nine in the morning, push him into your car and slowly reverse out of your apartment’s parking lot.

He’s not very attentive to his surroundings when he’s tired so he didn’t mind the monotonous voice of the news reporter coming out of the speakers. Whereas, he would have yelled at you by now to shut it off so he can blast his Spotify playlist at maximum volume to annoy people who apparently don’t know how to park their cars properly. Still, he only finished unpacking half of his luggage at four so it didn’t occur to him how little time he spent half-sleeping against your car’s window.

It didn’t occur to him how you managed to maneuver him out of the vehicle either. But when his eyes start hurting from rubbing them too much, Minho realizes that you’re piloting him through an old couple shopping hand in hand, a sweaty man in his mid-forties wearing a tracksuit and a child tugging at his mom’s skirt, begging for a lollipop. He gazes downward, eyes stop dead in their tracks seeing your hand intertwined with his while your free one is scrolling through the list of groceries on your phone.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty, glad that you’re finally awake,” the amount of sarcasm laced in your tone just makes the blush on his cheeks disappear in the span of half a second.

Minho makes a face and pulls his hand back to grab a cart, trailing after your footsteps grimly like an obedient puppy. “Waking up early was not in the contract,” he lets out the loudest yawn possible without covering his mouth, no manners whatsoever. “That lawsuit for child labor? Pending.”

You chuckle dryly and toss a box of oatmeal cookies into the cart, not really caring that he’s sleepy and tired. You’re the one who’s driving after all. “It technically is,” you say with a meek smile and turn around, watching him throw in a bag of popcorn, barbecue flavored chips, and other junks that scream college staple food. He told you that he’s making use of the school’s gym five times a week but seeing the amount of trash that’s piling up, you doubt that his efforts are gonna matter at this point.

“I told you that we’re grocery shopping every Monday morning because we both don’t have classes on Monday mornings.”

Minho only groans loudly like a damsel in distress until you both reach the vegetable aisle. He immediately goes for the asparagus and broccoli, probably to water down the amount of sodium from the chips.

You’re not sure if it’s just because he’s sleepy but the rest of your banter while raiding the supermarket is fairly civil. In short, it’s the most normal conversation you’ve ever had with him. Not that you’re complaining, it's actually really nice to see how he also has a soft side to him. Not only did Minho grab the chicken breasts for Chan because that guy cannot live without them, but he also called Changbin to check which flavor of the protein bar that he prefers. It seems like he’s gonna crash at Chan’s place for an upcoming secret project.

When you both queue up at the self-checkout line, he observes the light blue packaging of your shampoo curiously. He notices how you stopped getting the twelve ounces bottle and went for the twenty-four ounces one instead.

“You’re still using this one? I thought you said you wanted to change it up every time?” He asks, propping his head onto your shoulder lazily. Minho remembers how you started to try out this brand three months ago and he laughed his ass off at you for being so determined to go through all of their scents. It’s dumb, yes, but he commented on every single one of them anyway.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

Your body tenses up when he sniffs at your hair, nose brushing against the back of your ear, and it’s not helping either when his forearms are resting against the lines of your waist so he can hold onto the cart while you’re too busy bombarding Yeji with questions about the frat party she attended last night. You’re basically trapped between him and the cart; you can’t believe you’re only realizing that just now.

“Hold up, I thought you usually go grocery shopping alone?” Yeji flips the table and inquires slyly on the other line, then she lets out an audible gasp. It’s so loud that Minho staggers backward from surprise, almost hitting the cart behind. “Is that Lee Minho?! Y/N, what are you two doing at the Asian market at ten AM? Together?!”

Words spill out of your mouth before you can even process them properly. “We saw each other coincidentally and ended up using the same cart.” And now you want to put your head through a wall because what kind of an answer was that? Your brain had to malfunction at that very moment, in the middle of that very call, it just had to. “Okay, whatever, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow during Park’s lecture, see you,” you hang up just like that, not knowing how to act because now you have to tell Yeji about how you—a complete loner—is finally having a roommate. But that roommate isn’t her specifically.

“You good? You look a bit..feverish,” Minho rests a hand on your forehead while his free one pushes the cart forward. Still in a daze, your heart shudders, and your back accidentally comes in contact with his chest, making you drop your phone onto the carton of eggs in a panic. “Careful there, that’s two months worth of eggs,” he reminds you, clearly not having a single clue of how giddy you are right now.

Also, saying that you’re giddy is an understatement.

You shake your head and mutter, “Right, sorry, you were saying?”

“I just asked why you stopped trying the rest of the scents and committed to April Cotton so easily.”

“It’s because you said it’s the best one so far,” you answer honestly, almost too honestly because right now, Minho feels like someone’s using his heart to juggle right inside his chest cavity.

four.

That night, after Minho’s monstrous shift at the cafe and three hours of you FaceTiming Yeji to procrastinate about a writing assignment, you both are sprawled across your white fuzzy carpet that sheds more than three of his cats combined.

In between is an empty cup of McFluffy, a sad piece of pepperoni pizza and leftover fries, all being placed on a piece of newspaper because Minho’s promised you that if he ever dirtied your carpet, he’d take you to a concert. His bank account isn’t ready for that yet. A Dog’s Way Home just ended two minutes ago and as the ending credits roll, you’re all curled up inside your over-sized hoodie, sniffling into a piece of tissue.

“Day one with your new roommate here and you’re already shedding tears Jesus Christ,” Minho tells you after stretching his limbs out tiredly, eyes becoming droopy.

“Shut up,” you punch his arm and laugh, wiping the remaining of your tears with your sleeves. “I swear I saw your eyes watering when Bella reunited with Big Kitten.”

“They did not?” He shoots you a shit-eating grin when he settles back down onto the floor, supporting his head with his hands. To be fair, the CGI was kinda shitty, a little bit noticeable but the reunion was too emotional for him to care about something as meaningless as that.

Minho ignores how you’re mumbling something and instead, turns onto his side and grabs a piece of fries, chewing obnoxiously. “So, Y/N,” he inquires rather cautiously. “How does it feel like to finally have good company along with good food?”

You hum for a while but answer with little consideration, eye closed, “I could use someone with a smaller mouth, and a smaller ego too but yeah, it’s kinda dope.” And you open one side of your eyes to see him being the literal CTRL+V of the surprised Pikachu meme. He looks betrayed, as if someone just sneaked into your apartment and snatched all of his packets of instant ramen in one go, just like whoosh, out the door they go with his daily breakfast.

“It feels kinda nice too,” you proceed to continue, staring at the ceiling to avoid eye contact with him. “Because I know although this person acts like an asshole most of the time, he’s just a really big softie on the inside. I like how he called his friends in the middle of his shopping trip to see if he’s getting them the right flavor of protein bars, how he paid for the groceries even though we’re equally broke, and how he skipped dance practice to volunteer at a nursing home every weekend.”

You’re not looking, but you’re pretty sure that Minho’s smile is growing so big, his cheeks are about to crack in half. “I didn’t tell anyone about that,” he stifles a laugh. “It’s either you’re somewhat a creep or you’re just really cautious about what kind of people you let into your life.”

“I’m a loner, what can I say?” You chuckle lightheartedly, feeling slightly fuzzy inside for no particular reason. “I am really cautious when it comes to stuff like that because the more you let people into your life, the more it hurts when they decide they’re gonna leave you.”

“Hah! So that’s why you’re so stubborn about the whole not having a roommate thing?” You nod sheepishly at that, feeling kinda embarrassed because it feels like he’s unraveling your secrets right under your nose.

The signature catlike smile lingers on his lips when you turn on your right to face him, and your useless heart thinks it’s a good time to skip a beat when your eyes meet his round ones with ridiculously beautiful lashes. You’ve never felt like this towards anyone before, it’s risky, you know it but you think you can trust him. You can trust Lee Minho.

Although he wasn’t this big, sassy persona that has a questionable obsession with cats and dancing when you first met him. You encountered Minho for the very first time backstage at the school’s music festival to support 3RACHA’s performance. Initially, he made absolutely no effort to even greet you like how a civil human being would, but he was intrigued when he saw the SpiderMan plush keychain on your backpack. And it seemed like fate was only trying to push both of you closer together because you kept bumping into him on campus. So it’s only a matter of time before he decided that he hated eating lunch alone and asked for the empty seat next to you, offering you his watered-down cup of coffee.

“What made you change your mind then? Why not just reject me?” Minho scoots closer to you, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“Because I feel like..you won’t be leaving me anytime soon..”

“Damn right, I can never stop bothering you.”

You don’t know where, how, or why you can muster every fiber of courage left inside of you to tell him that. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? Maybe this is a sign, the universe wants you to stop being so closed up all the time and open up to new people (regardless of how shitty you think they are) because life’s way too short to play the role of the lone traveler on this planet. And it’s madness to think that all it took this boy was half a cup of Vietnamese coffee and a call at such an ungodly hour for your heart to be completely his. Nothing’s gonna change much, you think. You’re gonna still free-fall into this hellhole called ‘college’ with your first world problems like everyone else but the only difference is that you don’t have to be alone anymore. There’s a hand for you to hold, a shoulder for you to lean on and your heart has found its new home. You don’t think you’ve ever felt it being so alive before. However, you’re not against it even when you’re still dubious.

Because that’s how you’re supposed to feel your entire life.

❖ p/s : I hope you enjoyed this little monster that I managed to whip up in the past few days, I thought it’d be nice if I could give you guys smth as a “parting gift” for my [rest]. I was very, very sleep-deprived as I proofread this so please don’t come for me & I’ll see you in the next fic!

#stayshub #skzwritersclub #stray kids lee know #stray kids scenarios #lee know imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids minho #minho roommate au #minho college au #lino fic #lee minho #lee know #lee know scenarios #college au #roommate au

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raccoons-inked-quill · 3 years

Text

Stroll to Ingloslaght

Desc:

After months of being rejected for his morbid countence,the creature seeks revenge for his woes,now proceeding to Ingloslaght, to end the one who had this disaster all begun.

On his way,however,he stops for directions from a man seemingly in a bit of a predictament, having lost his glasses,a perfect and treasured opportunity to converse sans considering his frightening appearance

Author notes:

My God i wrote this like. Months ago and then got stuck hdhdhd. I may continue as a second chapter later? But I left the ending a tad open ended since I got stuck on it so long.

For weeks I treaded amongst the depths of the woods ,my grotesque figure hidden from the likes of man's gaze by the fortunate shade. And for what reason must I so meticulously lurk in these dreaded woodlands, woven through thorns and branches,to preserve my sight from humanity? The very burning passion that has kept me on my feet ,who's written words regarding myself have sent me on this prolonged travels. It was this man himself,by the name of Victor Frankenstein, whom had so cruelly sculpted me into my detestable shape. And it was that very man I treaded onwards in hopes he will be sought out. That for being forsaken to dispose existence upon me in this wretched condition by his own hands,he will pay with the likes of his own life.

After such travels, my fruition drew closer. I arrived to the borders of Ingloslaght. What an enlightening concoction had ignited within me then. I was grappled and willingly overtaken by rage and euphoria,but yet a vaguely present melancholy festered despite my wishes for it to abstain.

Then proceeded a new realization within me. I knew the man by name,but not by his appearance. Only scarce remnants of the man I remember. Youth still very much blessed his visage, yet at the same time,he in no manner was remotely vigorous. The man held a starking contrast in the fact that he nonetheless appeared entirely unkempt and teetering on the brinks of life and death much too early if his youthful features stood true.

It was by these aspects alone I must go by,as all else in my mind I only recall as a blur,and that leaves me a far too broad description.

My conclusion, was that I must temporarily reveal myself in order to acquire where the fool resided. I had an inkling of an idea given by the brief details provided in his journal. He attended university, and his teachings he received was made up of atleast two professors. Krempe and Waldman. This aside,I knew I soon will be forced to inquire to someone amongst mankind,likely by force given I know well enough my looks will not provide me to any civil conversation.

It was by this thought my vehement dedication was temporarily stunted by dread.

I was moved to only scratch the brinks of the town,and could not bring myself to any confrontation even when opportunity seemed fit. Everytime,I found myself grow close to presenting myself,only to draw gingerly away. The only hope that spared my sense of confidence was that I came closer to enacting out this deed when I thought out my motivations, of avenging myself by the fated and horrid death of Victor Frankenstein .

For once life granted me a faithful advantage,one that had so fortunately removed the need to inquire upon a member of humanity with the complexities that came with force. Whilst making my typical rounds around the outer trails of Ingloslaghts nature,I stumbled upon a pair of glasses that had evidently not been there long,as there was a lack of dirt and cracks upon it that would not be possible if it were there for more then a day.

I glanced forwards,and immediately met whom I assumed to be their owner. I froze in my posture as the young man had glanced upon me,surely certain that he would remark in terror upon my ghastly form. Then enthrallingly,he only smiled politely. He spoke in a language I couldn't seem to make sense of,so I had quite discomfortedly added that I could not make sense of him in my native tongue. To yet more of my surprise,he seemed to light up upon hearing it,recognizing it as if it were his own.

"Sir! Hello,it seems I may have to request of you some help,if you don't take it as too much a grievance. I seem to have misplaced something gravely vital,my glasses,and I was wondering if you had caught sight of it."

I couldn't seem to place my finger on the particular origin of his accent, but I had assumed it to be to some form of a French speaking country. I picked up the glasses from where they lay perched in the ground,my grasp on them light.

"Afraid not." I responded.

"Do you think it will be much trouble to you on your own ? It seems that you've been rendered utterly blind without them,it will be of no trouble to my time to lend aid."

The man's eyes took a final glance at the ground below,as what I had considered to be his last resort. Of course, the poor soul had resigned his search and looking displeased but nonetheless unsurprised,he sheepishly nodded.

"I assume I'll be forced to manage,I have a spare somewhere at home." He concluded with a faint disappointment

"I think I may have caught sight of a glimmer not too far off the trail here,some sort of glass."

This statement had gotten his attention,as he ever so slightly had tilted his head in intrigue

"Oh! Would you mind to show me where you'd spotted it?"

I cheerfully obliged, indulging him in the lie I had swiftly constructed. It would be simple and quick, I reasoned, to quickly converse with this man about the whereabouts of my wretched creator. I had thought to myself that he hadn't appeared much older in comparison, a part of me took an unnerving familiarity in him,thus I assumed this reasoning to be a fair explanation.

He wobbled forwards,his balance faltering on more than one instance. If not already clear by his absent remarks acknowledging my form,the way he had stumbled forwards in absolute obliviousness to his surroundings had distinguished it well enough. Easily I took pity upon the fellow,as he unlike Delacey hadn't frequented the ability to navigate without the sense of sight.

Evidently he was mildly displeased with the aid,more in resent towards having come off needy. He made certain it wasn't in direction towards myself,as the faint polite smile had returned to his face when he had looked upon me.

"I apologize,you must find yourself vexed to be so suddenly tied to these tasks. I hope I haven't burdened your walks,or whatever finds you out here in these trails."

"I reside not far off from here,in not much more then a humble hut,but it is a temporary abode. There is no place i find myself long."

"Ah,a traveler,I presume?"

I analyzed this title placed onto me,and found it a fair summary. Since the Delacey's,there is truly no place shall I find myself confined,I must always be in travel,to preserve myself from the likes of man. A tinge of frustration had emerged within me,and once more i was reminded of what I was in need of doing.

"I suppose so. But there is.."

I had struggled to put to proper words,a fair description to my enemy without revealing suspicion in such open malice.

"Someone,in which I plan to visit."

He nodded once more,that grin still on his face,strangly its formal politeness presented as if it were something he had long rehearsed,as if he found the intricacies of small talk alike to following the script of a play.

Although I found my task to be in dire need of proceeding too,I felt the desire to converse further. As it is with no other since Delacey I had experience to even a brief casual exchange as this. I took graciously to not waste the rarity of the moment,where I would not be taken in my grotesque glory,but as if I were no more revoltingly significant then any other human individual.

"I must ask myself,it is rare that I am to witness any other walk amongst these parts. What is it that has lead you here?"

He trailed down to look upon his hands, which rested a leathered notebook in one and a twirling quill in another,spinning with a repetitive motion.

"It is these parts that my dearest friend Henry has frequently visited and discussed fondly of. He is a man who partakes immensely in the pleasures of its nature.

I cannot repay the abundance of compassion he has recently displaced upon me. I am not too well in demonstrating my care,as passionate as it comes. However, I reckoned it would please him if I had sketched out these places,as a souvenir."

"I may confess,that I often am lead to consider my life nothing more then wretched,but it is in nature in which none are spared of its serenity that I find peace. I am certain he will find much appreciation in it permanently preserved. Do you mind if I see it?"

He chuckled then,clearly happy i had taken interest ,and he had shifted from his rehearsed nature to something that appeared to be more geniune.

"Certainly! Though I haven't quite finished nor fixed its mistakes,and I can't seem to do so in my current condition"

I took the notebook from my remaining free hand,my other still enveloped around his glasses to prevent revealing their shape,which I reckoned he would distinguish in the blur.

Haphazardly, I had found myself on his stated works. Of course,there on the page remained an illustration that had captured the epitome of our surroundings embodied by a diverse array of ink strokes. I smiled on it fondly,taking much fascination in its dedication. In this admiration I found a sense of tragedy. What anomaly had I befallen then!

Mankind had possesed the likes to bring into reality the upmost wonderous of creations,how fascinating do I find this feeble man's illustrations,of which intricately demonstrate the scenery before us embodied with its own sense of beauty. More on this I reminisced,beyond that of this particular man. How oft had I become to being moved by the words of Milton and Goethe,which they had just alike he before me, in their own manner intimately captured the complexities of the world accompanied by their own beauty. It was by mankind's creations had built the backs of my own character, and made a good expanse to my knowledge. How cruel is it,then,that just as capable of bestowing this lovely artistry,that one outlier had fabricated the wretch that is myself, exempt from the beloved due to how morbidly I was devised.

"Im more than certain your friend will find themselves pleased,you have an immense talent. I hope you dont find this rude, may I request on you a favor?"

The man grinned still ,pleased by the praise,but had once again paused to construct a response to what had followed.

"You may,i suppose i do owe you one for the troubles. Though I am not sure if I am in position to do what you request."

"Its simply no more then a nagging question"

I had looked towards him to say this,and again I had been struck with a surreal distant familiarity to this man's features. Infesting my mind with an entourage of haunting explanation. The frail face of the man,in the same nature of distant memory evidently young yet prematurely frail and worn. "Have i irked you?"

The man interupted

"It is not thus,no manner have I been disturbed,rather simply I am lost in a rather unrelated contemplation"

"What must that be?"

I found it proper then to ask,as much I had appreciated the time spent in engaging conversation, I must not let the topic at hand i had brought myself forth in confronting this man to be forgotten so wrecklessly. It would be soon enough that one would tire of this conversation and he may request of a continued search in his spectacles that I held within my hand to his lacking knowledge.

"Do you know of a Victor Frankenstein?"

"Know of?"

Theres a bewilderment in his voice.

"I am Victor Frankenstein."

In this abhorrent revelation, the glasses, once held quietly in my grasps, cracked from the palms of my despicably putrid hands,piercing skin. A putrid nature only given to me by the young man before me. This wretched boy's countence,by no surprise to his timid nature,shifted to a cowardly form. A realization,though not yet of my identity.

"Were those my glasses?"

He remarked,distressed.

In this flurry of a moment,I came to a response. An excuse no less,the boy would continue to live in obliviousness.

"Id stepped on them,it seems,I'm dreadfully sorry to that."

"Oh,thats-thats-uh..rather unfortunate."

He had come to a loss of words, he was quiet,his hand now anxiously squeezing his arm in what was presumed an unconscious effort by cause of his ever growing anxiousness.

"I do have a spare at home though I really would hate to inconvenience you more with this task at hand then I already did. Though I think its a rather potent risk of me to try and return by my lonesome. My vision is absolutely poor,and without them I am rendered close to blind."

I was fairly indecisive, this man before me. That whom brought upon my miseries,now by his lonesome was in evident need of attendance, mine specifically as we stood alone,although in that lies the issue that the wretch stood none the wiser that I am vehemently scorned by his faults.

I should find this a perfect opportunity in evoking destruction, of letting out my more cruel nature that he too held to creating by his neglectful devices. Yet all the same,I was hesitant in acting forth my vengence. Perhaps,if I move him further off from the sights of the town,I may find better opportunity and courage in his killing.

"I can attend to that. Though if you may see this option fit,I would have drastic preference that I am to partake in the sceneic walk. I am alike you an admirer of nature,and one whom does not fair well amougst the vast crowds of townsfolk. "

He gave no verbal reply to this,instead,he gestured out to extend his arm,to which I obliged in holding rather awkwardly. Off we had proceeded,towards the depths of the woods to which no man would follow. Perhaps,my hesitancy would leave me then.

#this is NOT shippy btw. please do not take it as so #frankenstein #mary shelly's frankenstein #writing #victor frankenstein #fanfic

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years

Text

Opposites Distract

Will Graham x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: talks of murder and dead bodies and killers

Author’s Note: Hey love! I hope that it’s okay I chose Will I think will be the first I post of him although I’ve written like seven already that have yet to be posted lol. I just really love him and when I read this request he was the first that came to mind! Thank you for requesting dear!

Requested: by @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza,Hey idk who this prompt would work with best but I wanted to do a general ask with the phrase "opposites distract"? Where reader is so similar to the character but continues to date awful people because opposites attract? Thx😘

Summary: the request!

Genre: fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif)

You were exhausted. You had come home from yet another bad date and to be honest you weren’t sure if you could take much more. It was a fifth date really and you had planned on going home with the guy until it took a horrid turn, him bullshitting about some sort of misogynistic ideas. You knew he was a bad guy and you should have taken the first hint when you saw him texting a girl's heart right in front of you.

To be fair though, you were pretty terrible at choosing guys.

You walked to your bed and dialed Will’s number. He was probably still awake, despite the late hour.

It only rang twice before Will picked up.

“Hey,” he muttered.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No.” You were silent. “Yes. It’s alright, it wasn’t a good sleep anyway. How was your date?” You scoffed. “That good huh?”

“He told the waitress that her tits were nice. While I was eating my salad Will. Over my salad.” He couldn’t help but laugh. There was an obvious distaste in your voice and he was pleased to hear it.

“The guy was a scumbag anyway.”

“I should've just listened to you,” you muttered.

“I know. Listen, go to bed and try and get some sleep okay?” You had obviously woken him up and he was too polite to tell you he wanted to sleep but to be honest you didn't' mind. You should go to sleep anyway but you wanted him to know that the date had gone exactly as he planned it. Bad.

“You’re right. Goodnight Will Graham.” You could practically see his smile. He liked it when you said his full name for some reason. Just the way it sounded coming from your voice was pleasing.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

The next day Will was called in to help with a case. Hannibal was there as well, checking in on how the case was forwarding. Usually he just waited for Will to come to his session and explain but he had a special interest. Either way, he and Will stood with a few other people in the morgue.

“How was Y/N’s date?” Hannibal asked. Wil laughed dryly, welcoming a nice change of pace to the dark his mind was going to about the body.

“She found out the guy was a misogynist pig who commented on the breasts of a waitress. Over his salad was a particular problem.” Hannibal chuckled.

“She was trying to eat poor girl.”

Hannibal knew of Will’s feelings. He also knew that you were a fool for not dating the man. You and Will were similar in many ways. You shared the same morbid curiosity of death and killers. Beside that you thought of things similarly. It wasn’t the same of course. Will was a little more advanced or crazed in his thoughts but like Hannibal you were able to trace killers with a speed and professionalism that amazed Will. A skill similar to his own.

You had gotten into a habit of dating men that were nothing like you. A problem lay in that. You wouldn’t date Will if you dated people that weren’t like you.

“How do you feel about her dating others?”

“She has no obligation to date me Hannibal. Besides, this isn’t a session is it?” Hannibal shrugged.

“Just some friendly conversation.” He looked at Will. “Speak to her. I think you’d be surprised what comes out.”

Will took that to heart more than he thought he should. He liked you, a lot. It killed him when you continued to go on dates with men that didn’t deserve you. Will at least could make you happy, treat you right. He might not be the most stable person but that didn’t mean much otherwise.

You knocked on the door to his house. You were coming over for drinks which you did every once in a while, especially after a case that affected one of you. He opened the door and gave you a strained smile which meant that he was thinking about something.

“Hey Will Graham,” you said smiling.

“Hey.” You said hello to the dogs and Will poured you a drink, handing it to you. You sat on his couch and waited for him to get situated.

“Something wrong?” you questioned.

“Just surprised you didn’t have a date today is all,” he said offhandedly. You raised an eyebrow and took a sip. He sat down across from you.

“I know I’ve been going on a lot lately. It’s stupid really,” you muttered.

“Can I ask why you’re so keen on dating men that are so bad for you?” You scoffed.

“That’s a blunt way to put it.” You took a deep breath and shugged. “I believe opposites attract I guess. That was the theory anyway, I think I’m evidence disproving that theory with my dating life.” You took a larger drink this time. “I mean I guess that really it should be that opposites distract. From this world, our life.”

Will watched you. He analyzed you. He knew you believed that opposites attract and he wondered where you had gotten such a silly idea into your head.

“Have you ever thought about dating someone similar to you?” he asked. You thought about it a moment, swishing the wine in your glass.

“No actually. I suppose at this point I should,” you joked. “But who do I know that’s even remotely similar to me?”

There was a silence.

Will waited very patiently, studying your face.

You were concentrated in thought until suddenly your face eased as it came to realization. Your laughter filled the room even if it was faint.

“You,” you muttered. “You’re the only person even close to me.”

Will stared at you and then you smiled wider as the pieces began to fit together in your brain.

“For such a good detective I have to admit, you’re really stupid sometimes,” he said. You laughed, shaking your head.

“Well then Will Graham, would you like to go on a date with me?” you asked. His smile was addicting.

“If you insist.” He laughed. “Isn’t this a date though?”

“Just you and me in your house with wine? Yeah I suppose we’ve been having dates all along and you just forgot to mention it.”

Will laughed. He was quite happy with this development.

“You want some more wine as we continue our date?”

“I would love some.”

#will graham x reader #will graham imagines

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flashbang-througthe-door · 3 years

Text

Problems

Ship: Hudson/Weaver

Tw: mentions of torture, smoking, swearing, not taking pills, mental illness

A/n @samatedeansbroccoli I did a thing and idk if im proud

Description: Lear doesn't listen to the rules, his two friends start to worry and want to find out why

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

Lear was independently watching Mason, he was doing an amazingly average job. He wasn't allowed to question Mason, mostly because he was given the title of good cop. He had the radio on low as he was trying to do a crossword puzzle. "Where the fuck did you go you, cowards!" Mason coughs slowly looking around, Lear looked up filling out the crossword puzzle.

"The numbers mason" Lear said into the mic, he wasn't supposed to talk to Mason but rules are for those who follow. "Numbers!?" Mason hisses and Weaver was the first one back, Lear clicked the mic on and took one of the coffees. "Anything while I was gone?" "I'm not supposed to talk to him" Lear replies sitting down reading his crossword puzzle "But no, I didn't get anything from him" he mutters writing "Six letter word for pain," he asks Weaver as Hudson walks in with food. "Hudson" Weaver waves his hand a smile appearing on his face "Hey! That fits" Lear took his lo mein noodles from Hudson "What was the question?" Hudson asks handing Weaver sweet n sour pork "Six letter word for pain" Lear giggles starting to eat "Hey, out of morbid curiosity, why can't Lear question Mason?" Weaver asks grabbing a fork "Because Black doesn't trust me/him" Hudson and Lear said in unison sighing then said "But you are trusted when Hudson is around" they looked at each other then at Weaver. "That's it?" "Yeah that's it" Lear mumble getting up "Raise your hands" he walks over to Weaver, who knew exactly what was going down. He raised his hands and Lear popped a squat on his lap "Hello Vincent" "Hello Gri-Grigori" Lear smiles like a dweeb as Hudson rolls his eyes "Jealous?" "No, more annoyed that we're in here...eating and he's down there...starving" "Jason Hudson's guilt for the winning gift" Lear got up and started heading out the door "Where are you going?" Weaver asks setting his food down "Feeding Alex" Lear grabbed a face mask and put it on "Black won't like this" "Well, I'm not here for Black to like me" Lear waves his hand.

Lear headed into the integration room with the Lo mein. Mason slowly looks up "Your...different" he mumbles as Lear pulled an empty tray over "I've...been told that a lot..." Lear chuckles wrapping some noodles around the fork "No, you're not one of them, you're kinder" Mason replies watching Lear carefully "I'm Italian...my temper flares when it's needed" He held the fork out "It's not poisoned, I ate some of it" he held the fork still as Mason leans forward taking a bite. "So...do you have a name?" "That's classified but call me V" Lear got another fork full of noodles for Mason "V?..." He tilts his head confused "Don't question it, eat" Lear holds the fork up again. This went on for a couple of minutes but it was interrupted by Hudson. "V...comeback, you're needed" Hudson's voice was distorted, Lear sighs starting to leave "Hey, V" "Yeah" "I'm trying my damnest to remember" "I know...I know"

Lear went back into the room removing the face mask. "You'll never guess who wants us in his office?" Hudson crosses his arms "Mr. President" "No" "Gene-" "No, Black does, can you handle it, Weaver?" Hudson asks sighing watching Lear rock in his heels "Of course, good luck...mostly for Vincent" Weaver chuckles, Lear shakes his head "Thanks...I need it" Lear went into the hall waiting for Hudson "Good luck, I mean it..." Weaver went stone-faced "Because Vincent is going to be complaining the whole walk" "He brought it on himself" Hudson left and grabbed Lear by his ear and dragged him down the hall "Hey! Hey! J, come on man" "Don't call me that" "Jas, my ear hurts..." Lear groans his ear a nice red color "Weaver told you Black wouldn't like it...and you went and did it" "It's called being the good cop" they stopped at the office door and Hudson let go of Lear's ear. "He's trying his damnest to recall the numbers, but if we keep torturing him...it might not come back or he won't tell us" Lear put his hand on the doorknob "You are not here to be a good cop" Hudson was in theory, correct about not being good cops but then again Lear did have a point.

"So, Vincent gli eroi non muoiono mai Russo the third" Black sighs as Hudson and Lear took seats "You lied about your middle name?" Hudson whispers knowing Lear's middle name as something else "That's what my mom said it was" Lear whispers back and then straightens up "Yes sir" "Saw what you did with the prisoner" "Sir I-" "You know you don't have that privilege or clearance. You don't have the clearance to be anywhere without Jason Hudson. Where you go he goes and vice versa, You hear me Hudson" Black leans forward and Lear scoots his chair back always having a problem with authority. Hudson taps Lear's leg and stood up "Yes sir this won't happen again" "Good, now get back to find the numbers" "Yes sir" Hudson went to the door and Lear went to follow "Vincent, we aren't done, Hudson wait outside" "Yes sir" Hudson left shutting the door and waiting for what felt like an hour hearing yelling and Black calling Lear a few choice names. Hudson physically flinched hearing a chair break and then a "Sorry sir" following after. Lear came out and started heading back to Weaver. Hudson jogs to catch up "Vin" he calls out no answer. "Vin" he calls again as they entered the small room with a Weaver frustrated.

Lear sat down and started working on the crossword puzzle again. "What did he want?" Weaver yawns softly grabbing his coffee "Told us what we already knew" Hudson waves his hand sitting down staring Lear down "Vin?" "Yeah...Weaver?" "Question" Weaver rolls his chair over "Mhm?" Lear looks up at Weaver who had three pill bottles in his hand "Did you take them? Me and Hudson we're gone around the time you had to take them. Did you take them?" Weaver saw the look on Lear's face and it told all "So you didn't take them" Weaver shakes them, Lear went to leave the room and Hudson was standing in front of the door. "Look I'll take them in the near future" Lear sat back down "You will take them now and we will watch..." Weaver hands the bottles to Lear. "I...uh" Lear takes the bottles and looks down "You understand stand that...we are doing this for you" Hudson pulled his chair over so he could sit in front of the door. "I-I haven't had an episode all week, I've focused all week and and" "You haven't taken them all week? That's bad...you needed to take that lithium pill along with your ADD meds and that weird blue and green one for your episodes" Hudson slides over "Vin, you...you may think you have been doing good this week, but uh Hudson..." Weaver looks over for support and Hudson puts his hand on Weaver's shoulder "What Grigori is trying to say is...that this week you were starting at the ceiling for an hour the other day...you punch the mirror in the bathroom and then cried about it..." Hudson sighs softly "What I'm saying is...take your medicine..."

Lear inhales nodding "I thought I could just power through it...you know" He got his pills out and grabbed his coffee "You know it...didn't, it wasn't, I..." He takes his meds and stretches "See, now if you take them the rest of the week...I'll buy you ice cream" Weaver rubs Lear's shoulder "We'll always be here for you" he taps Lear's shoulder and then rolls his chair back so Hudson could sit between them. "Vincent" "Mhm...?" "...Im proud of you" "Thanks Jas, Grigori" Lear smiles working on his crossword again "Four letter word for friend?" He mumbles tapping his pen "It's probably mate" "Thanks Hudson"

#lear #Hudson #weaver #lears home is on someones lap #black #lear sharing his food #if you wondered why Mason doesnt go ballistic in cold war fics when he sees lear #gli eroi non muoiono mai #lear has his add his episodes and a few other problems #why did this turn in to two bi cia agents taking care of their pan son who is struggling to take his meds

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

It’s Only Fair

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Minor Spoilers for RE8: Village

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: It’s all fun and games while Corpse is simping over Lady Dimitrescu, seeing as how Y/N herself isn’t immune to that woman’s charms. However, things get ‘serious’ when Corpse has to deal with his girlfriend making heart eyes at the hammer wielding final lord - Heisenberg.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for this incredible request - it hit close to home, not gonna lie hehe. Thank you so much for the opportunity you gave me with this request, I had a ton of fun turning it into a fic and I hope you have at least half as much fun reading it! Love, Vy ❤

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t Heisenberg remind you of Lucas from the seventh game? I don’t know, all this speakers communication is giving me flashbacks I’m not too fond of. That guy traumatized me.“ Y/N shudders in her seat from where she’s observing Corpse’s gameplay while keeping tabs on the speeding chat, answering as many of the comments as she can.

“No idea. Never played the game.“ Corpse wheezes out, feeling the pressure’s on and working up a little bit of a sweat seeing as how this is the last lord he’ll have to battle before probably having to square up with Mother Miranda. The fact he’s running low on ammo has been stressing him out but luckily he has Y/N there to comfort him every time. She doesn’t even need to use words to do so or even ask him what’s wrong - just placing her hand on his knee allows him to feel relaxed and as though everything will be alright even though it probably won’t be if he doesn’t collect some money, ammo or supplies for making ammo soon.

“Wooow, fake fan, huh?“ Y/N pokes his side teasingly, “No, nevermind, I know exactly why you chose to play this, skipping all the previous ones in the process.“ She prods on, continuing to mess with Corpse who gives her a side-smile after having held on a still face for such a long time, features frozen in his focused and on-edge state.

He rolls his eyes, deciding to play her game, “Oh yeah? Why do you think that is?”

She scoffs, “Maybe cause thee other games don’t have 9ft tall vampire ladies? I don’t know, I’m just shooting in the dark here.” She delivers another poke to his side, giggling devilishly as she does so.

Corpse quickly takes hold of her hand, murmuring: “Maybe...” under his breath before bringing it to his lips and giving her knuckles a kiss.

Y/N wiggles her hand free from his grasp, mock-offended by his words, “Knew it! I freaking- Whoa, hello there, sir.” She cuts herself off as the game enters into a scripted cutscene, showing off the final lord in all his glory. “Who is you?”

“Y/N, Heisenberg. Heisenberg, Y/N.” Corpse laughs, “I forgot you missed the episode where he was first introduced.”

“Damn do I regret that now.“ She whispers, eyes glued to the game instead of the screen of her laptop where she’s been fetching comments flying by. No one can blame the girl, she’s got a justified reason to be distracted. “Wish we met sooner, Mr. Heisenberg.“

Corpse finds his jaw on the floor in an instant as his head snaps to face his girlfriend, “Excuse me, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

Y/N frowns, narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend as she finally brings herself to tear her eyes off the screen where now the game has been paused. “What? You now get to complain? After I didn’t say shit about you drooling all over Lady Dimitrescu? It’s only fair I get my own simp-worthy subject, don’t you think?”

Corpse rolls his eyes, “This deal doesn’t seem like it’ll benefit you much - I get a hot, classy and rich vampire lady and you get...” he motions at the screen, his face twisting in a displeased expression, “...him.”

“Oh trust me, I’ll be perfectly benefited, don’t ya worry.“ She shoots him a wink, cackling quietly yet evilly at the shock-disappointment het comment is met with on her boyfriend’s part. “What?“ She asks though laughter, “He’s hella hot!“

“Ok, that’s it.“ Corpse gets up, pushing the desk chair Y/N’s sitting in forward, rolling it on its wheels towards the door, “You’ll be in exile until this chapter’s done with. I can’t have you simping all over the place, it’s bad for business. I mean, if you fall for guys who look like him, God knows what people will think I look like.“

“Well, you do need a shower but...“ Y/N comments through a fit of giggles, kicking her legs as to get up and off the chair but by the time she’s able to react, he’s already rolled her out in the hallway and shut the door of the recording room behind himself as though she can’t just open it and walk back in. Which is exactly what she does, much to his dismay - but she only pokes her head inside, “You’re right, it’s bad for your image, so I’ll clarify.“ She clears her throat, raising her voice as for it to be picked up by Corpse’s mic from across the room, “The two men in question don’t look at all alike, folks! Heisenberg is way hotter than Corpse!“

“OUT!“ Corpse shouts, sounding as threatening as he can while laughing his ass off alongside Y/N who has followed his ‘order‘ and stepped out in the hallway where her laughter can still be heard. “Guess the longer I don’t shower, the hotter I’ll appear to Y/N. Remind me to buy myself a cape as well. Wonder how much factories cost around the West Coast...“

“COPYCAT!“ Comes Y/N’s shout from outside the door, causing Corpse to break out in another fit of laughter.

Never did Corpse think he’d be trying to cop the ranks of a video game villain but here he is, actually googling the price of cape coats and he’s never felt more bemused with himself - ok, that may or may not be a lie considering he’s really digging the coats he finds for sale online.

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luccislegs · 4 years

Note

Hello! Could I please request 2 hcs with Law and Robin? The reader is the local cryptid of a town, and has a df that allows them to attract small animals. They're especially fond of black cats, and have slightly morbid humor. They join the respecitve crews, and it takes a while for them to adjust. One habit that's particularly chaotic is filling a room full of cats and just hanging out with them.

Law:

Law doesn’t believe it when the locals whisper of a cryptid that lurks about town, bringing in all sorts of weird animals in the night. He’s especially unconvinced that this cryptid is bad luck. There’s no scientific proof that black cats are bad luck, and he’s sure you just have a fondness for them.

He’s got no real interest beyond meeting the cryptid, expecting a bigfoot-esque creature or at least a weird old hermit living in the woods. What he finds is you instead, almost painfully normal compared to the stories he’s heard. He’s almost comically disappointed, and you laugh at him when he explains what he’s heard about you.

Sitting down with you for a while explains just why you freak the townsfolk out so much. Small creatures seem to flock to you in droves, and your sense of humor and manner of speaking is…off-putting. You remind him of himself in some ways, except covered in animals.

Toads can be heard croaking in the small tub of water outside your window and whenever Law peeks out to look, they’re looking up at him with an almost eerie intellect…right up until one tries to catch a fly that’s landed on his cheek and slaps him in the face with it’s wet tongue. Bats flutter in and out of the open window, made creepier by the hooting of the owls that have parked themselves in the trees and on the windowsill. By far, though, the freakiest thing to Law is all the cats.

There are cats literally everywhere. Three are parked in your lap, with four more vying for a position. There are cats sitting on the table and on the counters, cats just covering the couch, and more can be seen lurking in the hallway, watching Law with luminous yellow eyes.

Not to mention the 2 that have claimed his lap as a seat.

And they’re all black. It seems like you’re doing it on purpose, there’s no way this island has only black cats, but when he asks you just shrug. “Maybe they’ve gotten rid of all the others,” you say, and he can’t fucking tell if you’re joking or not.

Even though you lowkey freak him out, he keeps coming back to your little cottage outside of town. He’s got a few days to spare, and your knowledge of herbal medicine is something he can’t ignore. After only 2 days, he gives into the desire to have you join his crew. The others are unsettled but don’t complain, and for the first voyage everything is fine.

There are no small animals, besides the few cats you’ve brought with you and a bat you’re particularly fond of, but in lieu of small animals you seem to be drawing every single spider in existence out of the walls of the ship. At any given time you can be found with at least a dozen scuttling around your space, and Law can’t help but blanch whenever you pick one up and gently move it off of your book so you can flip the page.

He realizes there might be a small problem when the Tang stops at the next island. He’s only gone for a few hours when Penguin rushes up to him in a panic, pointing back at the ship and pleading with him for help. When Law asks him what’s going on, all he says is “Cats.”

He rushes back to the ship, fearing the worst, with Penguin hot on his heels.

“Oh my god,” Law says when he reaches the sub again, and smacks himself in the face. “I’m going to kill them.”

There are actually cats everywhere, and he can see you and Bepo sitting in the middle of the deck, playing with feather toys and laser pointers. It’s hard to navigate around them, and everything below his knees would have been littered with scratch marks if he wasn’t wearing pants by the time he reaches you.

“Hello, Captain,” Bepo says, hardly looking up from his prone position on the ground. There are 4 cats perched on his back, all purring and blinking slowly up at Law, and he finds that all the annoyance he had initially is gone at the adorable sight. Grumbling about what a sucker he is, he seats himself next to, begrudgingly taking the feather toy you’ve offered him. A cat immediately latches onto it and snatches it away, and Law quickly Rooms it back into his hands, glaring at you as you laugh.

“These cats will have to go, ___-ya. It’s fine for now though. It’ll be too much of a pain to do it right now,” he says, swishing the toy back and forth and watching the adorable bundles of fluff chase it back and forth across the deck.

Robin:

Robin is instantly interested when she hears the legends of a cryptid. What they describe sounds almost like a vampire, and when she tells the others about it, Luffy almost automatically wants it to join the crew. The others naturally voice their disagreement, but Luffy’s mind is made up. He sends Robin off to locate you, telling the archaeologist that he has more pressing matters to attend to, like finding lots of meat.

It isn’t hard to find you. The villagers gave a very specific description of your cottage and strict instructions to avoid it at all costs. Naturally, she didn’t listen and was knocking on your door after a 20 minute walk from the ship. After a moment of silence, she realized you must not be home. Just as she turned around, ready to give it up for the time being, something wound around her ankles and she looked down to find a cat. It stared up at her for a moment before taking off a little ways. Then it sat and stared at her. When she approached, it got up and trotted off again, and she quickly got the hint.

She followed it into the woods, noticing the lack of any animal noises for the most part, until all of a sudden it seemed the woods came alive. As she stepped out into a clearing, it fell silent, everything turning to scrutinize her. There was a murmured command from the center of the clearing, drawing her attention as the animals relaxed and started up their noises again. A path opened up , finally revealing you sitting on a stump in the center of the clearing.

“Well, hello,” Robin said, coming to stand in front of you. Perched on your shoulders were a squirrel and a starling, each staring at her as if unafraid. “How cute. I heard you were able to attract animals, but I had no idea you were able to control them too.”

You smiled a little, cupping your hands at your feet and allowing a chipmunk to hop into them. “I don’t really control them, per se. Something about my powers just calms them, like they understand that I’m not going to hurt them or allow anyone else to hurt them.”

Holding your hands out to her, Robin cupped hers and the little chipmunk scuttled into them, staring up at her with its beady little black eyes. It sat quietly for a moment before it scampered up her arm to her shoulder, burrowing into her hair and curling up there.

“He likes you,” you said, standing up. She got her first good look at you then, and was surprised that the rest of you was just as normal as your face. She still couldn’t quite figure out why you might be considered a “cryptid”, let alone unlucky. But then, with the myriad of black cats– probably every single one on the island, if she had to guess– swarming at your ankles, she supposed she could understand. Not that she believed in the old superstition, but small towns weren’t known for being intelligent.

Over the next few days, while they waited for the log pose to reset, you got to meet the rest of the crew. They were an eclectic bunch, and you fit in with them better than you ever had with anyone on the island. By the last day, Luffy insisted on you joining his crew, but you were hesitant to leave your animals behind. Before anyone else could say anything, Luffy had already opened his mouth and promised you could bring them.

You laughed and agreed, much to everyone’s horror, and promised to be at the ship in a few hours. They were all very much relieved when you showed up with only a few cats and your personal belongings. However, Nami took a look behind you and her eyes grew wide. She yelped and pointed, drawing the others attention to the large black mass moving across the ground at a rapid pace.

Before you could process what was going on, the ship was covered in meowing, purring furballs. You saw Usopp go down as he tripped over one, followed by Zoro. Franky was covered in them, and Luffy had three trapped in his arms, but they didn’t seem to mind. He was staring at you with a wide grin as he leaned over the railing of the ship and yelled, “Can we keep them, ___?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Nami was already punching him in the head, and multiple yells could be heard underneath the mass of cats, all of them sounding suspiciously like, “No!”

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #nico robin #nico robin x reader #one piece scenarios

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caretaker-au · 5 years

Text

Subterfuge

Interlude: Kindness

Spring 2031

—

Today should have been a wonderful day. After all, it was a day that Chara had been dreaming about for the past 3 years, loading and reloading, hoping fate would deliver to them another human soul. And today, it had. Lounging comfortably beneath the gnarled black tree in the ruins, the human was practically waiting at their doorstep. They were female and older than the previous children, somewhere in their early teens. Some sort of fabric was wrapped around their leg where blood was seeping through, but otherwise they seemed unharmed, an unfaltering smile gleaming beneath their green eyes and long lashes.

But of course, Chara could not be so lucky.

Spoiling the sight was the human’s monster companion. Probably still in grade school, Chara recognized the monster as being the son of the Whimsun family. Undoubtedly responsible for the human’s survival, the fairy monster seemed to realize his guilt and hid behind the shoulder of the human.

The teenager hadn’t seemed to notice the monster’s discomfort, instead acknowledging the caretaker’s arrival with a cheery, "Hello! You must be Chara!"

Chara bristled at the familiarity. "You. What is your name."

"Oh!" the child chimed, "My name is—"

“Not you.” Chara interjected, pointing past the human, “Him.”

The winged monster poked his head into view, eyes downcast. “Wh--Whimsy. I’m sorry, Chara, I know I’m not supposed to be here... please don’t tell mom and dad.”

“We will see about that. Come here.”

Whimsy fluttered towards Chara, casting an apologetic look back. Arching an eyebrow, the human leaned forward as if to stand, to which Chara barked, “No. Stay.” They winced a little at the order but complied. Chara turned their attention to the monster and spoke in a hushed voice, while keeping an eye on the human behind him.

“When did you come here, Whimsy?” Chara asked.

“Lunch time… around noon.”

Chara checked their watch with a frown. It was already past 2:00 pm, and they had created a save point only an hour ago, not early enough to stop Whimsy from trespassing.

“And the human. When did it arrive?”

“I don't know. I found them under the big hole in the ruins, calling for help.”

The timing couldn’t be worse. No matter how many times they reloaded, Chara was stuck in this uncomfortable confrontation between the three of them. Unfortunate save times happened occasionally, but rarely were they this bad.

Fidgeting in the silence, Whimsy continued, “They’re hurt, Chara..”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s hurt,” Chara said, lowering their voice further, “You know what happened to Asriel.”

Whimsy’s eyes widened, “What happened to Asriel?”

Lovely. This monster was too young to have witnessed Asriel’s injury or to be told the gory details. Chara sighed, exasperated. Later they would have to make an appeal to the education department to include such information in schools. Speaking of, the young human was watching them, brow furrowed as they tried to listen in.

Chara pulled a key out of their pocket, locking the front door of the house they had passed through to come here. “Walk with me, Whimsy,” they said, gesturing for him to follow. Whimsy nodded as Chara walked toward the human beneath the tree, then right past them. “Remain there. I will be back for you.”

“Goodbye, Whimsy!” the human called out, “I’ll see you soon?”

“Good… goodbye…” Whimsy responded. If he was going to add anything else, he didn’t get the chance. Chara reached out their hand to lead Whimsy toward the southern exit. Together, they walked down the hall on their left, where another open doorway led to the city of Home.

While the Ruins had been left to crumble, Home was still bustling with life. In this room, they could overlook the glowing city scape under the vast cave ceiling. Unfortunately, the glittering view was obscured by a heavy metal gate that wrapped around them like a cage. Chara knew that small monsters like Whimsy would be able to fit through the bars, but they didn’t think anyone was brave or stupid enough to enter the Ruins without permission. Not only was it against the law, but the gate was erected to protect Home from humans. Entry through the gate was only permitted with Chara serving as a scout and escort.

Now out of earshot of the human, Chara scolded Whimsy for entering the Ruins, explaining in morbid detail what happened to Asriel. Unsympathetic to Whimsy’s look of horror, they went on to threaten reporting him to the authorities and his parents for breaking the law. As Chara hoped, Whimsy collapsed like a house of cards, apologizing and begging Chara not to tell. Chara made the young monster a deal, promising not to report if him if he swore not to tell anyone about going to the Ruins or seeing the human. Using one of their keys, Chara opened the gate for Whimsy, who solemnly passed through.

“Wait…” Whimsy said, eyes pleading, “Don’t be mad at them, okay? I know humans are dangerous, but this one is really nice…”

Chara opened their mouth to argue, but stopped, changing tactics instead, “I will bear this in mind. If it-- if they are as harmless as you say, I will let them go.”

“Really?”

Chara smiled, “If I deem them worthy, then of course.”

Whimsy sighed in relief, but his assurance was short lived as Chara reiterated that if anyone found out about their trespassing, there would be severe consequences. Whimsy headed home, and Chara locked the gate, waiting until the small monster was out of sight before letting out a sigh.

Finally. Back to business.

Chara startled upon returning to the black tree in the yard. The human had raised themself to their full height, and they were tall. Freakishly tall. From a distance, Chara would have mistaken the child for an adult if their face and gangly limbs hadn’t given them away. Wrapped around their waist was an apron, dirty with food and mud, and the child fidgeted with a heavy cast iron skillet. Did they always have that? More importantly, why did they have such a thing?

Chara took a moment to smooth out their robe. They considered setting a save point, but decided against it, in case they would need to reattempt the talk with Whimsy. Chara approached the child with their best smile, but judging by the skeptical look the child gave in return, it must not have been convincing.

"Hello child," Chara said, "I would introduce myself, but it seems you already know who I am. Nevertheless, my name is Chara, the caretaker of these ruins. It is unfortunate that I was not the first to greet you."

The child shifted their weight, eyes glancing to the doorway behind Chara, "Where is Whimsy?"

"Home."

"The town called Home, or his own home?"

Chara's smile faltered. Just how much had Whimsy told her?

"Both." they answered, their tone short, "And it is time for you to go as well."

The child's eyes widened, "You can take me home? But Whimsy said--!"

"Whimsy does not know what I know." Chara turned on their heel, facing back to the ruins, "Follow."

The teenager hesitated for a moment before choosing to obey, catching up to Chara in a few paces. Their stature put them a few inches taller than Chara. Troublesome.

There were several rooms between them and their destination. Chara would have been content to walk in silence, but their curiosity got the better of them. They spoke without turning around. "Tell me. Why do you have that."

"Have what?"

Isn't it obvious? Chara glared over their shoulder, eyes fixed on the pan the kid was swinging as they walked. "In your hand. Is it a weapon?"

"A weapon?" the teenager repeated incredulously, "No, no, this is for cooking, obviously! Though I probably look pretty strange carrying a pan around, huh?"

Chara doesn't answer, setting their eyes back on the path. Out with it already.

"You see, I was camping with my friend and we wanted to try cooking over an open fire. We'd never done that before so once the fire was going we were trying a bit of everything: potatoes, chorizo, even pancakes! Most of the stuff got burned pretty bad, but we managed to eat a few treats before… before…"

Chara heard the human’s steps slow to a stop. They looked back, and the young camper was hugging the pan to their chest, eyes downcast. For the first time since they arrived, the child looked small.

Chara resumed walking. "Keep up."

The child did as ordered, following without a word until they reached a wide room covered with cracked floor tiles. The floor was still intact, evidence that Whimsy did well guiding the child through it. Considering the circumstances, it was probably for the best. After all, Whimsy was not strong enough to witness the death of a human. Few monsters could.

Chara faced the child once more and pretended not to notice that the human’s eyes were red and puffy. "You already know how this puzzle works. Follow carefully."

The teenager nodded, stepping into each of Chara's footprints as they lead the way, "Hey, Chara..."

The child didn’t notice Chara wincing at the unwanted familiarity, "You sort of remind me of my friend. You're both so serious and quiet, and to be honest, you two have this weird sort of resemblance. Like, of course you don't look the same or anything, but you feel familiar because of it, you know?"

"I don't."

"Oh… okay, well…" the child exited the puzzle of broken tiles after Chara, tilting their head to the side to look at the caretaker’s face, "Either way, it's… it's nice,” they smiled again, nervously looking away, “I keep telling myself, if you are anything like my… my partner, then I know that even if you don’t look it, you’re actually a really good person deep down."

Chara was a bit taken aback by the sudden compliment. For the first time since their meeting, they returned them a sincere smile, "That's kind of you to say. I think I am as well."

The teenager relaxed, relieved to get a positive response from Chara, "I'm sure you are! Should we keep going? My friend needs me, and I've spent too long here already."

"Of course," Chara hummed, "But first, take a look back and say your goodbyes. After all, this will be the last time you see the Underground."

The child gave Chara a quick quizzical look, before turning to face the puzzle, "Yeah, I guess you're right," mindful of the cracked floor, they stepped to the right to better see through the doorway on the other side of the room, "I was so focused on leaving I didn't really appreciate it here. You know, I wish I could have stayed a little longer. Maybe do something nice for Whimsy."

"That can be arranged."

The human’s head began to turn—perhaps to ask Chara what they meant—but before they could open their mouth, Chara pushed them forward by their shoulders. The child sprawled across the cracked floor which shattered like thin ice, revealing the ten foot drop underneath. A shriek escaped the teenager's lips before momentum and gravity dragged them into the field of spikes poised below.

Chara would never get used to the sound.

Not wanting to get pulled in with their victim, Chara had backed away from the edge, safe against the wall behind them. They watched the dust curl around the broken chasm in lazy spirals, and noted that while their heart rate was elevated, they felt strangely calm. Like killing a rat that had been tearing apart the pantry, completing the grisly act was a welcome relief.

Combing their hair back with their fingers, Chara took a few slow measured breaths, basking in their victory.

Four souls. No—five, including themself. Salvation was nearly within reach.

interlude: kindness // end

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#undertale #chara #chara dreemurr #kindness #apron kid #undertale au #the caretaker of the ruins #undertale spoilers #main comic #interlude kindness #story summary #not so much a summary at all #i was rather inspired and wrote the whole thing this time

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