#i would have skipped my happy ass to the basement | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anonymous-dentist · 8 months

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In my head, the Evil Dead au would go a little something like:

When Roier finally pulls himself out of the shower, the cabin is silent save for the faint scratching of the record player from the other room. The record itself must have run out while he was distracted, whoops. He hopes Cellbit isn't too annoyed at him.

So Roier is quick to dress, and he's up to his shirt when he realizes, oh no! It's Cellbit's shirt! Just a bit small on him, small enough to make Roier's muscles really pop out. Just the way Cellbit likes.

He winks at himself in the mirror before unlocking the bathroom door and opening it. He shivers at the sudden cold- Cellbit must've finally found the air conditioning panel. Fucking finally, it was hot in the bedroom earlier.

"Gatinhoooo!" Roier moans, throwing his head back dramatically. "Dónde estás?"

He walks into the cabin's main room, and-

"May the blood of the plenty fuel the forsaken souls of us few," the record abruptly says.

Roier jumps and swears, pressing his hand to his chest. He stares at the record- now silent again.

Slowly, he relaxes, shoulders slumping as he looks about the room.

"Cellbit?" he calls.

He frowns. It's a one-room cabin, what the fuck? Where did he go? Back to the car?

The record skips. "When the oceans ran red with blood, the world was full of what we now call the living dead."

Roier shivers. Ugh, creepy much? Maybe it's a good thing he missed out on the whole 'listen to the supposedly-cursed audiobook of the damned' thing. He loves his boyfriend, but this is a bit much.

Suddenly much less happy than he was a second ago, Roier huffs and turns the record player off.

"Cellbit," he says, "this isn't funny. Where are you?"

The room is still empty. There's no other room in the cabin- it's just this one big huge room and the crummy bathroom, and that's it. And with the car stuck in the mud down the road, there's nowhere Cellbit could be besides that creepy-ass basement or the toolshed out in the woods. And Roier does not want to go out there, not this late at night.

It's as he's sulking his way to their bed that he notices the curtains fluttering over one of the windows, the one closest to the record player and the chair Cellbit was sitting on when Roier had gone in to shower. But the windows were all boarded up when they arrived. For the weather.

Confusedly, Roier makes his way to the curtain. He pulls it back and sees... nothing. Just the woods outside.

And a big, splintered hole in the center of the window, bloody glass shards sticking out from behind the equally-bloody remains of the wooden boards.

Roier yelps and drops the curtain, skittering backwards and slipping on-

"And when the dead shall return, they will go for the wicked first, for they shall be the easiest to convert to their cause."

Roier's head snaps towards the record player as he tries to catch his balance. Its static is loud, almost as loud as the beating of his own heart. What the fuck?

Swallowing a growing lump in his throat, Roier looks down to see what he had slipped on, and he sees...

"Oh," he weakly say.

He crouches and picks up Cellbit's glasses. He holds them in both hands, biting his lip nervously as he takes in the cracks in the glass and the... and the blood across one of the lenses.

"The second to go shall be the mortal, for they shall be the easiest to kill. The dead's ranks will swell like the rising tide, and it shall be glorious."

And then he hears it from outside, a quiet whisper. A whimper, even, pained and pitiful and all too unpleasantly familiar.

"Guapito?"

Roier's eyes snap to the window. The curtain has been blown aside by the wind, and there he is. Cellbit. Right in the window with his hair plastered to his head pathetically like a cat stuck in the rain.

But it isn't raining.

But this is Cellbit.

So Roier carefully approaches, clearly hesitant, and that's fine, okay?

"I think I want to go home," Roier says.

Cellbit pouts. "What? Why? We just got here!"

Oh, why does he have to be so cute?

This is. Weird. Bad. Weird.

The record skips. And then it says, "The end of days will not come in a storm. It will come as gently as a lover through the window..."

Cellbit glares at the record player. "Shut up!"

The record stops.

With a cheesy grin, Cellbit slumps against the window, his arm propped up on the sharpened edges without a care. He leans his cheek against his arm, pleasantly ignoring the fresh blood dripping down his arm.

Roier, frankly, stares. His grip on Cellbit's glasses tightens, and he backs up a step.

"Ignore them." Cellbit rolls his eyes. "Come here, guapito, they don't know what they're talking about."

"I don't knooow, it sounded pretty sure..." Roier awkwardly says. He laughs, unsure, and he stops completely when Cellbit laughs with him in a voice that probably isn't his. Probably?

He glances at the record player, and then back to Cellbit, and then back to the room when he hears a sudden crashing noise from the bathroom.

"Will you marry me?" Cellbit asks.

"What?" Roier faces him incredulously. "Now?"

Cellbit shrugs. "Why not?"

"I mean, yeah, but-"

"Yes?"

Cellbit's eyes light up... literally. Bright blue, and in a way that's probably beautiful to, like, a moth, but not a Roier because what the fuck what the fuck what the fu-

Roier can't help the little scream that escapes him as Cellbit pulls himself up and drags himself through the window, bringing him into the light for the first time since- since he-

"What's wrong?" Cellbit asks, head cocked at a dangerous angle. It's hanging off of his head, barely hanging on by a literal thread. His legs are mangled- his jeans shredded and his skin red and slick and wet and his bones and his-

Roier covers his mouth with a hand to keep himself from vomiting. Because one of Cellbit's arms is turned backwards, and that arm has a hand turned the right way around, and that hand is holding a little white ring, and that ring is the same color as the bone sticking out of Cellbit's knee awkwardly.

He skitters backwards, tripping over the rug and falling right onto his ass. Fuck.

"Guapito?" Cellbit frowns. "What's wrong?"

Only he doesn't speak it. His mouth doesn't move.

The record player skips and repeats the question, this time in a much less concerned tone of voice.

"Ooooh," Cellbit gasps, this time with his mouth. He raises both hands and sets his head on straight, wiggling it slightly for grip.

Seemingly happy with himself, he grins- sharp teeth stained black with his own blood. "That better?"

"What the fuck, Cellbit?" Roier chokes out. He likes to think of himself as a badass, but this?

Cellbit shambles closer, and then he crouches next to Roier and takes his hand gently in both of his.

"I promise it won't hurt," he promises, and Roier only has half a second to wonder what the fuck that's supposed to mean before Cellbit laughs with a dozen voices in one and he grabs Roier by the throat and he squeezes.

Roier drops Cellbit's glasses to the floor in his panic, his hands scrambling to try and push his dead boyfriend away but he can't see and he can't breathe and there are lips on his and there are teeth and they're biting and-

"No!" he screeches, and he manages to grab Cellbit's head by the hair and he fucking rips it off.

Cellbit's body goes limp, collapsing over Roier oozing blood onto his- Cellbit's shirt.

Roier looks up at Cellbit's head, out of breath and wide-eyed and crying sobbing panicking confused-

Cellbit frowns. "What the fuck, man?"

Roier screams and throws his boyfriend's head across the cabin. He cringes as he hears Cellbit swear in Portuguese. He watches Cellbit's body push itself up off of him and crawl its way blindly to its head.

He stands, and he slams the cabin door open, and he fucking runs.

#tw gore #a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#i'm really bad at writing horror sorry lol #brain worm though!#spiderbit horror au #i have such a soft spot for this au

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visceravalentines · 2 years

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A Matching Set of Spoons

Poly!Sinclairs x GN!Reader

Rating: Teen (SFW, lots of swearing and some mention of sexual activity)

Length: 1.1k

CW: none, just that sweet sweet fluff

I wrote this in a rush last night and it gave me so many goddamn feelings I had to share it right now. Bo can't sleep. Turns out he's not the only one.

Tagging a few moots who deserve special Sinclair cuddles! (Happy to untag you, just lmk.)

@cypressnmarigolds, @ajokeformur-ray, @moon-of-desire, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @wasteofanarrow, @slasherlouvre, @papikuai, @myersmeadowarchive

Some nights, the Sandman skipped right over Ambrose.

This was one of those nights. Bo lay spreadeagled in his bed, the comforter discarded long ago, the top sheet tangled around one of his legs. He wanted a cigarette. He wanted a sandwich. He wanted to go the fuck to sleep, but that was evidently out of the question.

The moon was blinding, sneaking through the curtains to fall directly on his face. He was too hot, too cold, Goldilocks all over. Maybe he needed a drink. Maybe he needed a fuck. He thought of you in the room down the hall.

Surely you were asleep. You had to be; it was the middle of the night. Any reasonable individual would be asleep at this hour. But what if you weren’t? What if you were also tossing and turning, alone in your bed, that t-shirt of his you stole to sleep in riding up a little higher every time you rolled over?

Goddamn, he had it bad. He was half-hard already.

Bo ran a hand through his wavy locks. It couldn’t hurt to go check. Just to see if you were asleep or not. If you were, he’d leave you be. Maybe he’d snuggle up to you for a while, see if that lulled him into dreamland. But if you weren’t….

He sat up, swung out of bed, adjusted himself in his boxers. In the light of the moon, he picked through the maze of shoes and laundry that carpeted his bedroom floor. Probably he should do something about that soon. Bo pulled his door open and peeked into the hallway, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.

Your room was down at the end of the hall. He crept towards it, trying to be silent. When Jonesy wasn’t in the basement with Vincent she slept with you, and the last thing he wanted was to spook her.

A creak from the staircase behind him spooked him so badly he nearly jumped out of his skin. Bo spun around, fist cocked, ready to break someone’s face. His brain froze, malfunctioned as it tried to make sense of the hulking, hairy shape shambling up the stairs, lit by a weak and flickering light, some literal actual boogeyman in his motherfucking house except it looked a lot like –

“Vinny?” he hissed, peering into the black. “What the fuck are you doin’?”

His twin shuffled toward him, cupping a candle poured into a small mason jar in one hand. Vincent signed lazily with one hand, Same to you. It’s 2 AM.

“I know it’s 2 AM. Why are you creepin’ around the house like a damn haint?”

Vincent flipped him off.

Bo rolled his eyes. “Well you scared the bejeezus outta me so that feels like my business.”

Vincent pressed the candle to his bare chest with a forearm so he could sign with both hands. The sweatpants he wore to bed were hanging off his hips. Maybe I felt like an evening stroll. It gets hot downstairs.

“Well, grab an ice cube and shove it up your ass, maybe that’ll help.”

Now it was Vinny’s turn to roll his eye. What’s your excuse, you piss the bed again?

Bo scowled. “I was just goin’ to check on [y/n]. Thought I heard a sound comin’ from their room, that’s all.”

Vincent slowly tilted his head, eyeing his brother. …you horny bastard.

“Hey now. Don’t you go gettin’ the wrong idea.”

It’s got.

“I am tryin’ to protect this house, and here you are accusin’ me of indecent behavior.”

I can see your damn dick.

“Fuck off, Vinny. Evenin’ stroll my ass. You were sneakin’ up here hopin’ for a little action yourself, admit it.”

I would never.

“You sure as hell would, we have the same brain, asshole.”

Shhh, you’re going to wake them up.

“Now wouldn’t that be a shame. Don’t change the subject, Vin.”

I am not discussing my sex life with you.

“Ooh, did you hear that? That was an admission. Besides, I already know all about your sex life.”

“Guys?”

The sound of your drowsy voice from the other side of the door froze their bickering. Bo glared at Vincent, who glared back and waved at his brother to open the door. He obliged, and both twins peered into the room. You sat up, hair messy, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Jonesy lifted her head from her place at the foot of your bed.

“Hey, darlin’, did we wake you? Sorry ‘bout that.”

“What’s…going on?”

“Nothin’, just…havin’ a friendly family dispute.”

“…in the middle of the night?”

“No time like the present.”

On your far side, a lump stirred in the bed, and Lester appeared from underneath the covers, squinting at his brothers. “What the hell is this, a surprise party?”

Bo and Vinny at the same time said, “Lester?”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

“This is fuckin’ stupid,” Bo complained. “You’re not even supposed to be home ‘til tomorrow.”

“Cry me a river, honeysuckle.”

“Okay, okay, everybody…calm down.” You shook your head. “What do you guys need?”

Bo wanted to –

Bo shoved Vincent. “We couldn’t sleep. We thought you…might be up.”

“Well, I am now.”

Both twins winced. Sorry about that.

Peace was a thing of the past. You sighed, slumped forward, patted the mattress next to you. “Come on in.”

Are you sure? Vinny said as Bo shoved past him without hesitation, making a beeline for the bed.

You gave him a sleepy smile. “Yeah, get over here.”

Lester squawked as Bo bodyslammed him. “I did not consent to this!”

“You consented to it when you was born last.”

“Bullshit.”

“Bo, you’re gonna kick Jonesy!”

“Sorry, darlin’.”

Vincent hiked up his sweats and set the candle on your bedside table. He sank down onto the mattress and curled up on your left, settling in as littlest spoon. You tucked in against the smooth skin of his back. Lester buried his face in your hair and Bo, the biggest spoon, snuggled up tight against his youngest brother, reaching an arm across to rest his hand on your hip. Jonesy grumbled, scootched back into a comfortable position with her head on Vincent’s feet, and fell asleep almost immediately.

One big disaster family.

“Goodnight, y’all,” Bo whispered.

“Bo, is that your dick?” Lester exclaimed.

“Shhhh,” you giggled.

Vincent blew out the candle.

#house of wax fanfiction #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #bo sinclair fanfiction #vincent sinclair fanfiction #lester sinclair fanfiction #slasher x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #jonesy sinclair #poly sinclairs

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the-cannibal · 2 years

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Slashers with an animal lover s/o

Gender neutral terms used - they/them, you/your

Bo Sinclair:

.Oh boy, he both finds it adorable how you love animals so much, and very annoying

.I mean, he already has to deal with Lester doing shit like bringing raccoons into the house, now he has to deal with you doing the same?!

.I mean he loves you! Don’t get me wrong! But if you try and hide a snapping turtle in the bathtub one more time because it “looked lonely” then he’s gonna hook you up to one of those kid leashes that some parents use to make sure their child doesn’t run off into trafic.

.Lester definitely encourages it.

. “Hey Les, have you seen Y/n?”

“Nope! Haven’t seen them all day.”

“Uh huh… so if I open the tail gate of your truck they aren’t gonna be in there snuggling with a baby deer?”

“…Y/N HES ON TO US RUN!”

Vincent Sinclair:

.He wouldn’t mind. As long as it don’t have rabbis or something.

.He has made so much art of you and different animals.

.Tell this man your favorite animal and he will make sure to make tons of art of it for you.

.just don’t bring them into the basement. We don’t want a repeat of last time… so… much… wax… everywhere…

Stu Macher:

.Oh this man loves animals too.

.You two would definitely go out into the woods by his house and catch little critters

.You two also sneak them into his bedroom (like bunnies and frogs)

.Ya’ll the type of people to call your animals your “fur babies”

.omg wait just imagine Stu is like sitting in class (not paying attention) and he just hears a light tap on the window, and he looks over to see you outside, covered in mud and holding a frog with a huge grin on your face.

.mans would definitely skip class just to go outside and look at the frog you found.

.”But babe, why are you all muddy?”

“Had to shimmy my ass down a log to catch this fucker!”

“WHEEZE-”

Billy Loomis:

.Im a strong believer that he is a cat person

.Im also a strong believer that that is the only animal he tolerates

. “Y/n get that thing out of here or so help me-”

“Okay okay! I’ll put it back!”

*They did not put it back*

.he would take you to animal shelters and zoos to let you look at and pet the animals.

.but he would then have to deal with you wanting to adopt every single one of them

. “No Y/n we are NOT taking home the alligator!”

“But Billy look at her! She’s calling out to me!”

*ANGRY ALLIGATOR HISSING*

Brahms:

.What is that thing Y/n is giving all their attention to? It’s not me? UNACCEPTABLE.

.Oh wait. It’s a little bird. Awww okay that’s kinda cute :)

.Wait why are they coming towards the house..? Wait y/N NO-

.yeah he keeps a close eye on you when you have animals ever since that day.

.but the big baby still gets jealous of them. That man is a brat for attention. Even if your holding a damn worm, that worm should be HIM.

Bubba Sawyer:

.Another animal lover!

.please show him any animal you find, his heart will absolutely melt and he will squeal in excitement

. “Bubba, Look! I found a little bunny!”

Cue Bubba making happy noises.

.I think because of his (beautiful gorgeous amazing) size he is scared to hold any animal, especially the small ones. He doesn’t wanna hurt the little fellas!

.but you help him through that fear!

“Here Bubs, just hold your hands like this… that’s it! Look at you! Ain’t you two just the cutest!

You’re making him a blushing, giggling mess Y/n

Michael Myers:

.No

.just don’t even try

.You will be lucky if any animal he comes across leaves with its life.

.sorry (Michaels not)

(Poly) The Lost Boys:

.Depends on the animal, they will either like it, dislike it, or love it.

.Marko is wary with animals you bring in the cave because of his birds.

.Dwayne finds it cute and will tell you any facts he knows about it. And will smile when you tell him facts back.

Also if you bond with Laddie with animals all of them are going to die of cute overload

.but let’s be honest, these big vampires would probably want to kill and eat most animals you bring home.

. “That’s a tasty looking deer there babe.”

“Paul I will rip you apart.”

.yeahhhh better only show them animals that they for sure won’t eat, like dogs and cats… but even then, keep an eye on them…

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lowkeyclueless5137 · 21 days

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Remember that Sonic AU with Idia and Ortho as main protagonists. Well uhh Please do the ‘Knuckles’ show equivalent in it please? 😀💧

WHEN I TELL U THAT I DID THINK ABT IT AFTER THE FIRST SONIC ASK-

Here's also the ask in question for ref.

Well imma leave you with a short intro, bcs there's so much to unpack. This thing was in my mind basement for a while :'3

We start off with a smol timeskip! :D

And during that timeskip, things do happen around: Mainly school activities. For Ortho, school was a bit more difficult when you and your buddies are known around as the supernatural powered dudes who fought the corrupted mad scientist and a fraction of the government. This made some things like sports events or extra activities to be more complicated than intended.

The most shocking thing tho was *gasp* Idia managed to pull a date?!?!

Our group was absolutely baffled when Idia revealed that he ended up hitting around dating 2 dudes: 1 silly library guy and one who owns a small restaurant in their little town. And they were decent people too!

The only problem was that, like most people who were not involved in the said adventure (either directly involved, related or witnesses) Azul and Malleus, Idia's boyfriends, don't know that the firehead was much more than just some silly alien guy. And Idia insisted at our first years group to keep it that way, because it was 1 talk that the latter found it pretty hard to address.

Now our new adventure starts by the end of the school year. There was the school prom! And being such a small town(almost a village if you will), the school prom was a pretty popular event around. Kinda a spice to the, otherwise boring, days around.

But before that, there was the academic scores settling. And everything. A lot of tests coming up and a lot of grades filling in. Ortho would say that he was a top student and he shouldn't fear when his grade situation gets mailed out, yet still, he was on literal edge for mail day, which Idia took it as odd. Doesn't help that Ortho inheritantly was super fast, thus he always grabbed the mail before his brother and went through it at lightning speed.

One day, Ortho comes back from school, to find that the mail came later today, while he was in class and it wasn't a skip day, and Idia took it before him. Of course, the dread was very real and the rest of the first years, who knew exactly what was up, tried to reassure their buddy that 'hey, we all got the same fate in there'.

Idia, naturally, wasn't that happy with a particular class Ortho had: Socials. While he had a nearly perfect score everywhere else, socials was a mediocre one, bearly passing. Idia couldn't complain about Literature or Arts, he knew those old ass teachers still were petty and poured their hate on the kids, still Ortho had pretty good grades at them. The socials was where Idia found it wierd. And naturally, he asks the group about it, when Sebek blurts out that all of them have the same grade.

Turns out that, since the incident, the school implemented an obligatory class: Socials. And for this, they got a teacher from a bigger city, who happens to also have a much more 'different' approach to things. Our group doubts any class in this school has an actual great grade at that particular class, so please, Idia, excuse them, maybe buy them consolatory ice-cream while at it? :'3

Idia does excuse them, but insists that, if socials are mandatory next year too, the group will try to do better in there. Now they only had a few school days left, so he couldn't really hope the grades will 'magically fix themselves'.

Hey, at least they are passing! :'D

Still, that day, Epel points out that Idia was much more fidgety, hence his very messy reaction to the grades. He was all over the place and, clearly, he was a few secs away from causing an earthquake. The latter just shows up his hand, which had an engagement ring on it.

Long story short, Malleus proposed today and, of course, Idia and Azul accepted with no 2nd thoughts. The librarian really was rushing into things whenever he saw green light apparently. :'3

So all summer, Idia was preparing mentally and physically for the marriage. For him, it was a more important task to see how he could break the news to his fiancés about the fact that he is literally the god of this planet. Ortho did try to reassure that the best case scenario: nobody has a heart attack or faints! What a good option! :D

By the end of the summer, the plans were made: an early autumn wedding, with the venue on a more retreated beach. Very little touches had to be done until the big day itself and Idia was getting restless as it approached.

Ortho really saw it as both a very beautiful thing and as a problem. On one hand, he liked Idia's fiancés and he would be very happy with the resulting marriage, especially if it made his big brother happy, but on the other hand, everything was moving very fast and, clearly, Idia had a harder time keeping the pace than Ortho. The rest of the first years are also trying to help Idia with his Woes, but it's pretty hard to calm him down. On more than one occasion, Idia was back to his big form, hid behind trees and mountains and simply processing the situation while our group talked to him, mostly to keep him grounded from making all kinds of imaginary scenarios and worrying himself more.

It was time tho, for Ortho's 2nd year of high-school. He was pretty excited about it, until he heard that socials were, yet again, a mandatory class. Doesn't help that Idia's wedding was in the first school weekend. The good part, Alex, Ace's big brother, was helping Idia when our group was at classes. (they became proper friends at the end of their adventure)

So with around 5 days until the big day, things were slowly looking out to be better. Things were settled, programs were fine and everything was coming together very nicely.

Except that things couldn't be very nice all the time.

Our lil group was out through town one evening, when they stumble across another alien, this one set on hunting the Shrouds. Of course, upon noticing Ortho, it escalated into a fight.

And now, this guy was freakishly agile. It didn't help that the red marks on his body, along the bright red hair, indicated that his origins were, definitely, from the same planet Idia and Ortho came from. Still, he reffers to Ortho as a 'threat' and thus has to handle it upon the rules of his homeland: by killing the boy.

Of course, things get much more clear when Crowley returns, saying that this is his new little ally. Thankfully, before shit can actually hit the fan, our group is saved by a misterious blonde guy, who can apparently shapeshift into any person.

That guy is Vil Schonenheit, upon his introduction. The other one was Riddle, an esteemed guard of temple of the core, from their home planet. He does make a short history of why Riddle was so set on killing Ortho.

Many years ago, a Shroud actually achieved a tie with their planet core, thus absolving immortality and immense power. The chaos emeralds were expelled to earth, while the said Shroud was locked in the temple of the core, as to prevent any wish of destroying their home. Riddle came from a line of guards who trained all their life to guarding the said temple. If anything went wrong, the guards were trained so that they could kill anything except a Shroud that was already tied to a core.

Vil also adds that he was not a guard, but an entertainer. He was, initially, given as a sacrifice by his, now deceased, mother, to please the 'diety', but he was spared, even so, the Shroud protected him from his prison, until he was old enough to venture back to his worried father. Thus he was forever indebted to that man. His wife was killed by the guards and he was unable to do anything but watch, believing that his children suffered the same fate too. So when Crowley came forth, his presence angered the Shroud. Crowley preached about 2 more of that kind here, on Earth. Riddle was chosen to accompany Crowley and get rid of the said threats, while Vil was told to go and stop this, to protect the Shroud's 2 sons.

Ortho is, rightfully, very shook by this revelation, but our group insist that already Idia tied in with Earth's core. Vil now is genuinely worried about this, because it's either Idia accepts to be locked away forever or he gets forcefully put to sleep by the guardians, once they find out what happened. Crowley didn't say anything about one of the brothers actually achieving this oh so feared form, so they didn't think too much on how deep this thing is.

For now, Riddle was on their trail, so as to not worry Idia, Ortho played the 'I'm having a sleepover at Ace so u could smooch with your fiancés before the wedding' card. It worked! Idia was too flustered to fully question why the sudden decision. :P

Alex is also very taken aback by this new trouble our group got into. Like being chased by the government wasn't enough, huh?! Still, he complies on trying to divert Idia's attention off this mess while the rest try to get Riddle to realise that Crowley is using him for the emeralds.

Cue a lot of running around. Riddle was 1 relentless mf. :'3

But, on their now daily chases, our group gets in mingling with the secret services. Again. :'D

Long story short, they caused a lot of trouble. Crowley was still on the loose, with his new little puppet being a force to reckon with. So the course of action taken by the said secret services was to take Idia in custody until Riddle gets wind of it and walks right into the trap.

It was a horrible plan, really. Especially with the upcoming wedding. :'3

We get introduced to Jade and Floyd, 2 secret service agents in the new branch of 'dealing with alien threats'. They actually prove to be a thorn in Riddle's sides, especially Floyd who is relentlessly taunting the redhead, thus allowing for Riddle to be distracted mid altercation.

And oh, is Riddle fuming! He became so enraged that the second he spots even the tiniest hair of Floyd, he goes tunnel vision and hunts that guy for the life of him. This put breaks in Crowley's plans enough so our group could actually devise a proper plan. The wedding was actually tomorrow and they were running out of time. Idia had to find out one way or another. Preferably after the wedding itself, ya know. :'3

But, first, the wedding! It was a very pretty location, still warm due to the early autumn, and it was small, pretty retreated.

Except that crow man cannot help but bust that shit too. Imagine Riddle's surprise when he sees 2 Shrouds, one who shows the signs of his bind to the planet's core.

BUT! Before anyone could do anything against it, it turns out a good chunk of the guests and the catering team were secret government agents. Azul also was one, pretty obvious after he pulled a mf gun on Riddle.

Turns out Azul was dispatched on a discreet operation of supervising Idia, which he really wasn't supposed to end up marrying him. So there's that. :P

Everything is messed up and so overwhelming that Idia actually snaps under the pressure and shows the full extent of his power: a gigantic being of magma and fire, raising walls and waves to separate people from each other.

Poor Malleus, he's the only guy who literally has no idea what is happening. Please, let him get married in peace. :'3

Naturally, Riddle's approach is to confront Crowley about lying to him, that none of the 2 is actually tied to the planet's core. This complicates things. Idia cannot be killed, because if he dies, so will the planet slowly, due to how young Idia was. Crowley was aware of this effect and still pushed the redhead to hunt the Shrouds.

Truth was, Crowley still wanted the chaos emeralds. And Idia, along with our group, had them. By having Riddle hunt them, Crowley was sure he could back them up and get the emeralds one by one.

Cue Idia losing his shit at that revelation. Like, it's a lot to take in today. His wedding was crashed, Crowley is back, apparently more aliens from his original birthplace came here, his father is alive, Ortho was hunted, and one of his almost husband was a secret agent, initially tasked with supervising him.

Cue grabbing crow man and chucking him through the ocean. Like if he dies, Idia doesn't fricking care. He's done and over and now he's staying criss-crossed, sulking as a petty kid, except that he's basically an all powerful diety of this earth. :'3

Still, Ortho tries to reach out to him, with the help of the rest of the group, Ortho manages to climb on Idia's shoulder and try to talk to him, firstly apologising for hiding the whole hunting thing from him. Idia accepts the apology, adding that he was worried sick when this whole thing got to light. Then Ortho urges to forgive Azul too, because he genuinely seems to love him and Malleus. And the 2 most likely are trying to see how to approach this whole thing. Idia is a bit hesitant, but he does allow Ortho to hug his cheek, before putting him gently down and grabbing Azul with Malleus. After they had a short talk, it was pretty obvious the small 2 kisses on the cheek and Idia seemed pretty happy as he finally rested back to his human form.

The wedding is still on tho! Except that most of the fancy dressing is torn or dirty from the fight around. :v

Idia gets properly introduced to Vil and Riddle. Being in an actual good mood, Idia does forgive Riddle, mostly since Crowley did manipulate him into this shit. The redhead does insist that if word goes back to the council of guardians, Idia will have to be locked away. That's how they kept his father too, in fear of destroying their planet. Buuuuuttttt if Riddle and Vil were here to, let's say, take care of this, then technically they could report that Idia was 'settled down' and it was safe. :3

The nice part, Vil and Riddle did settle in with new thing in their little town. Riddle as a teacher, while Vil as a theatre manager(upon promotions) so it was pretty chill and not anymore fear of other aliens possibly coming down to hunt the Shroud brothers.

The not so nice part: our group is still almost failing at socials :'3

A thing tho, was that our bros did ask Vil and Riddle if it's possible to see their father. The 2 said that for Ortho, it could be easier, but for Idia, due to still being fresh, him leaving the planet now, even for a bit, it could result in natural disasters left and right. Their best shot is having the father coming here, but that was, upon their words, impossible to achieve with the current guardian situation. Being tied to the core for much longer, Mr Shroud could leave it to be independent for a while, but, again, the guardians won't allow such thing.

So for now, they have no option but to leave it as that. U-Ub

#twisted wonderland #asks :3 #sonic au #Damn... It is long :'3 #But I think it's nice... I had to include that wedding scene somehow :'3

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ambrossart · 24 days

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Hi! I just read your most recent writing update. I’m so excited for the next DWM short stories! I reread Post Prom a few nights ago, and it still gives me butterflies like it’s the first time I’m reading it 🦋

I meant to submit an ask a few weeks ago, when you were taking questions for your birthday. By the way, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY 💓💓💓! I hope you had a great day!!

I was thinking about how Eddie and Reader share math class, and about how Eddie is notorious for throwing truancy laws to the wind. So here’s my question…

Either deliberately or subconsciously, did Eddie ever decide against skipping class because he knew he’d see Reader?

Wishing you the best!

(I honestly can’t remember, but if I already submitted this question and I’m repeating myself, please ignore me!!)

You did submit this question, actually! Sorry, I’ve had it sitting in my drafts and I’ve been working on it little by little.

Thank you for the birthday wishes! And man, your timing is always so perfect. I’ve had Stranger Things on in the background while I work and I’m slowly creeping up on Season 4. And I know once I get to Season 4, my obsession with Eddie is gonna get fully reignited again, so I’m trying really hard to finish this chapter of my Bowers gang fic so that I can treat myself with some shameless Eddie Munson indulgence. I really miss that man.

Anyway, about your question!

So Eddie and the reader have shared many classes throughout the years. It’s probably just a coincidence, but I could also see Eddie picking classes he thinks she might take. On a semi-related note, I also firmly believe she’s partly the reason Eddie refuses to graduate. I’m not saying it’s 50-50, more like 75-25, because the main reason Eddie’s putting off graduating is because he has no idea what he’s gonna do with his future. He’d rather stay in high school than face that monster, but I’m getting off topic.

Getting back on topic, Eddie does have a habit of skipping classes. The only classes he doesn’t skip are the ones he has with the reader. It wasn’t always that way, though. He used to avoid those classes like the plague because he couldn’t stand being around her. It was too painful. His broken heart was still bleeding, after all.

Eddie’s attitude changed when he had to give a presentation. No avoiding that. So he’s standing in front of the class, clueless, having to pull a fifteen-minute presentation out of his ass (which he does, of course, because Eddie’s a showman), and he hears laughter. Her laughter. It should sting, the sound of her laughter, but it doesn't. In fact, it feels strangely... familiar. All of a sudden, it’s like they're back in Scottie’s basement. Eddie’s performing in front of her. For her. And she's beaming at him.

That’s why Eddie doesn’t ever skip the classes he has with her. No matter how painful it gets (and sometimes it gets very painful) he toughs it out in hopes that once—even if it’s only once a year—he’ll get to see his old friend again.

Now would Eddie ever admit this to the reader (you had asked this in your original submission)? I think he would if it came up. He’s got no reason to hide it. And now that they’re together, I’m sure there are all kinds of hidden truths just waiting to come out.

#answered asks #thanks for the ask!#dancing with myself #dwm #ambrossart

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divineprank · 7 months

Text

In the land of Hyrule, there echoes a legend. A legend held dearly by the Royal Family that tells of a boy...

I was five years and almost six months old when Majora's Mask came out here in the US. I was also five years and almost six months old when my mother nearly lost her life in a terrible accident. You see, she came from THAT generation. You know the one I'm talking about, she was one of the "it's 10pm... do you know where your children are?"-type kids. She lived in a poor neighborhood and as a result, she was a scrapper, one of the kids that had no problem defending herself in fights against the older kids on the block. Even to the point that well into her adulthood, she was recognized by one of her old childhood opponents. Word had reached him that she was at the same party he was at, he loudly exclaimed his surprise, and actually pushed past people and ran out the door... My dad had bore witness to this.

One time when I was very young, my older sister pointed Impa out to me during a playthrough of Ocarina of Time and compared my mom to her. The biceps, the square shoulders, the toned legs. Even at that age, I saw it. She had Impa's body because she used to work on a ranch; she was a gymnast for a large portion of her young life, and her passion was dancing. She lived a very active, physical life. I mean, if there was a gnarly-looking tree and she had an excuse to climb it? She was going to, no matter fucking what.

So let's fast-forward to October 7th, 2000.

I was five years and almost six months old, I was attending my cousin's wedding with my older sister. My dad was working and my mom had claimed to not be feeling well, so she skipped it. This is because she's quite estranged from this family member and probably didn't want to be around her. My aunt--my mom's sister--had picked us up and we spent the day with them. I have very little memory of that day. I remember being bored as hell looking out upon the golf course resort and wanting to leave, and I remember bullying the hell out of my uncle (who HAD to be 100 years old) for taking too long to take a picture of me with a few family members. It wasn't until we were on our way home, after 10PM, travelling up my street that the warm purple glow of the red-and-blue EMS lights lit up our field of vision. We saw the emergency responders before we even got home.

The last memory of that night I have is my sister asking, "whose ass did mom kick now?"

The house that we were living in at the time, we had very recently moved into. Neither parent came from money and after purchasing your family's first house, you'll soon find out that it costs you quite a lot of it... Especially when you move in and your first night is met with your basement flooding with sewage water and your two young children having to go back to sharing a room on the top floor until the place can be dried out and fixed... Weeks later. That's about the same time our next-door neighbor came into the picture. Almost immediately after moving in, this old, Wicked Witch of the West-lookin' ass started rapping at our door and demanding we deal with the tree in our backyard. One of our town's oldest trees--something she has clearly had a personal vendetta against for quite a while. This is the type of old lady I'm talking about, the ones that devote themselves to one obnoxious cause because they don't have much else waiting for them in their own lives. She had been complaining that the dead limbs from a tree in our backyard had been falling into her yard, creating a mess, and on one occasion, she complained that our dead limbs had broken a window. This is laughable, you see, because if that were true, she would have been banging on the door demanding financial compensation. The cops showed up many times following our first encounter with "Sea Hag", a nickname my dad was very happy to give her after encountering it in our thesaurus. However, because our problem was a civil matter, the cops couldn't do anything about our tree causing our neighbor problems, but more than once we were begged to find a solution, because she had been clogging up their phones, officers, and resources for weeks.

So, comes the night of October 7th, 2000. My mom teaches me how to "play chicken" on my bike despite her concerns for my dress in the driveway. My aunt pulls in and I kiss the person who resembles my mother on the lips for the last time. You have to understand, at that age, I have memories of this person, but... I don't know her. I was too young: I don't remember my mom to be Impa. Not really.

Eventually we get home, and end up meeting the emergency medical services in our driveway as they're taking my mom away. Turns out, she fell out of that very old tree. By their estimate, they think that she had climbed up to about thirty-five feet before falling and landing on her head. She was raced to our nearby local hospital before they refused her and demanded that she be rushed the medical university in our state's capital if they wanted her to have a chance. Despite her grievous injuries in having crushed her neck, partially severing her spine, suffering a brain bleed, and breaking her ribs, AND despite how long she had been in the yard before she was found, the university hospital attempted something radical. They attached a titanium pulley system in her neck and fused her spine, effectively altering, but saving her life.

When she had come to after a small coma and memory loss, she explained that she had taken the down-time she had to climb that very tree and use our rake to knock some of the dead limbs out of the tree in order to appease "Sea Hag", because, well, what else were we supposed to do? It's not like our neighbor was going to stop complaining. She explained that finally, the rake got stuck, she pulled and the rake couldn't get loose. So she yanked back harder, and that's when she lost her grip and accidentally fell backwards, effectively landing on her head. The estimation of her climb came from where the rake was still stuck in our tree.

It's my understanding that what had been done to repair my mom's neck has never been done before. I have been told that what happened has been placed in the "medical history books"--whatever that means. Thing is, living in the United States means, if you have a historic uh-oh, your insurance company will want to charge you out the ass. By the time we went bankrupt, my dad expressed that my mother's medical bills, charges wherein she learned to talk, walk, feed herself, dress herself, battle paralysis, and become a mother to her children again, were reaching damn near close to one million dollars.

There was no way that we could spare sixty bucks for Majora's Mask which was set to release very soon. It was a game we had been looking forward to for months. I even remember discussing it with my mom and sister before her accident. You see, my mom used to love to watch and participate with us we tried to get through Ocarina of Time. Being inside one of the houses, my sister tried to roll into one of the many wooden crates, and the 64 being the Nintendo 64, if you came at something at a weird angle in the game, the collision would not always be reliable. (Epona jumping fences and trying to climb vines are perfect examples of this... I'm certain you know what I'm talking about, if you've played the games.) I remember being young and dumb enough to think that both my sister's player error and the N64's gitchiness came from Majora itself. It's supposed to be an evil demon, that makes people's lives hell, right?

Surprisingly, as the story of my sister and I moving between family members' houses while my dad would spend every night with my mom in intensive care reached the ears of the community, my dad's co-worker provided my older sister and I with a special card. Inside of it, was a kind note talking about how he and his wife had heard the story about my mom, and how they understand what kind of tragedy our family has faced. Sadly, I can't remember anything beyond the fact that some guy he knew and his wife gave us a free gift certificate to Toys-R-Us. That meant that indeed, our desires could come true, and come Thursday, October 26th, we would get our hands on the golden, holographic cartridge that became almost synonymous with the Majora's Mask game itself. Funnily enough, I remember freezing my ass off outside while we waited in line for Toys-R-Us to open. I remember taking turns waiting in the warm car as we waited... Tragically, I don't have much memory of slamming the game down into the 64 and playing it for the first time. But I do know that it's something that impacted me deeply as a child because I have drawings depicting the game and I remember even dreaming about it in my sleep.

Of course, I couldn't possibly make this connection in the year of, or even the years after, the accident. But as I grow older, I can't help but find myself grow much more attached to this game. It's not a game I pass off, don't get me wrong there. It's still up there with Ocarina of Time as my favorite game--I just always considered, you know, as the drawing above states: sabea 2. Zelda 2, the sequel to Ocarina of Time. It's just a continuation of the best game ever made, so I'll just cheat and mash those two into one solid number 1 choice. Which, fair.

...But it seems very dismissive. Not only of the game, but also of my own experiences. I mean, let's think about what I've talked about so far.

In the world of Termina, we are quickly faced with its imminent destruction, but it's a story of isolated danger. We're quick to surmise that this isn't quite Hyrule, but... somewhere else entirely. A place where, if complete and total destruction does strike, the only people who would give a shit are the people who went through it--the rest of the universe as we knew it would continue on as business as usual. This was a quiet, isolated place, a spec that nobody noticed.

I relate a lot to that.

My family was facing a severe and personal tragedy. Our whole world had come crashing down in the most violent and sudden manner. My mom had died twice in that ambulance ride to the capital, and if things had continued to go poorly, I can only see one alternative, and that is our moon having finally engulfed our world in flames while the rest of the world carries on without ever noticing. Nothing would be different for anyone else, but our entire life would be scarred and burned forever, maybe in a way i wouldn't be able to walk out of. I'm forever thankful that's not how things have turned out, even if things aren't the same as they used to be.

I think that's why I relate to Anju, the keeper of the Stock Pot Inn.

She tries her best to carry on and push herself despite the forces in her life bringing to terrible depression that stems from her lost husband-to-be. She is nervous, but she does her best to keep her composure despite what she faces... But she also isn't scarred over. She crumbles under the weight of her solitary hurt, and she absolutely will if you know when and where to look.

As a big girl, I find myself relating to Gorman, too. He's an uptight businessman whose immediately faced with the worst luck that someone in his position could see in a time like this: the troupe he manages has been cancelled at the most important time of his life. This is something he's bet his entire life on, something that has to pay off! And when it finally doesn't, what does he do but crumble under his own singular weight after having left his family to pursue his dreams, drowning himself in strange, alcoholic milk.

The Deku Butler's son, Darmani's quiet attempt to save his people, MIkau's solo challenge of the Gerudo Pirates.

This game is so lonely, so isolated, except... When you begin to portion it. The Deku Butler's son had his father who cared deeply for him. Darmani had the Village Elder and his son, and their people. Mikau had Japas, Toto and Evan, and Lulu and her babies. Anju, Mikau; Cremia, Romani... The Skull Kid after having been abandoned by the Four Giants, he still has Tatl and Tael.

All of this is going on without any of the other citizens noticing. The only thing that connects each of these individual people suffering their own unique pain is Link. And as silly as it is, I think I'd like to add myself and my family's names into that little hat. Yeah, he didn't come out of the screen and make my problem go away, and, sure, the memory of my suffering wasn't fed into the spirit of Fierce Deity...

But we were there along the way. I met Link again after our first encounter. He made me smile, he made some of the pain I had faced go away... Even if I hadn't realized it at the time.

There's a reason Majora's Mask is literally hung up so that it's the first thing you see once you walk into my room. It's why I have more merchandise than I do some of my other favorite Zelda games. It's why I just can't bare say Majora's Mask is my second favorite Zelda game.

It's because I can't thank Link enough for saving Termina.

#out of time. :: [out of character]#tw spinal injury #tw near death experience #tw broken bones #tw surgery #tw brain bleed #tw death #trauma dumping

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navybrat817 · 2 years

Note

As anticipated, I am fully prepared to become a basement wife for Steve Kemp.

F U C K M E S I R

*me sliding to the basement door* 😂

Let's go! 😂 It was a nice basement and we would eventually make our way upstairs, right? 😏 I'm so glad you got to watch it! I'm getting ready to watch it again. 😏

Love and thanks! 💙

#navybrat answers #steve kemp #steve kemp ask #fresh spoilers #i love him your honor #meat cleaver lover #basement wife #i would have skipped my happy ass to the basement #starlightcrystalline #sending love ❤️#asks are always appreciated

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novaiya · 3 years

Text

Good Things Come in Three - Arthur/Reader/Sadie (NSFW)

Summary: You and Arthur skip the gang's celebratory party in favor of some alone time, barely closing the door of the hotel room before freeing each other of your clothes. Naked and on the bed, you almost get down to business when Sadie knocks on your door, asking if she could join the fun. You didn't expect the night to take such a turn, but that's not to say you're opposed to what she's suggesting.

Words: 5,157

Warnings: threesome, girl on girl kissing, face sitting, honestly, nothing too out of the line, just some good ol' F/F/M

A/N: I've wanted to write an RDR2 threesome for months now, and finally, it happened! Hopefully there'll be more to cum (lol) I actually have a rough draft of a Arthur/Reader/Charles sitting in my folder, so maybe I'll do something with it soon. Also, I'm going to horny jail.

AO3 Link.

With successful completion of a big score came a big celebration. The job was two weeks in the making and involved half a dozen members of the gang, you included. A small bank in a cholera ridden town, though heavily guarded with lawmen both inside and around it; you knew there was more to it. After a little bit more digging, you discovered that one of the residents of town struck gold and was keeping his findings there for the time being. It took careful planning and rigorous preparations but on the chosen day, you were all ready.

Contrary to how the gang’s plans often went, this one went rather smoothly (probably due to inclusion of you and Sadie, women’s touch as they say) and not a day later the gang was about $40,000 richer, a few gold bars heavier and miles away.

The spirits were high; Not only did the job go smoothly, but nobody got hurt or caught. Dutch was ecstatic and decided that celebration was in order. As soon as you came upon a town with a functioning saloon in it, all the horses and the wagons were stopped and everybody went inside.

The saloon, which only a few minutes before was quiet and deserted, with only the barman standing and polishing the empty glasses, quickly filled with two dozen of the gang members and their combined laughs, cheers and songs.

“What’s your name, mister?” Dutch said to the barman as the gang filed into the saloon.

“Howard, sir.”

“Howard,” Dutch repeated as he shook Howard’s hand and inconspicuously slid a few bills into his hand. “These people,” he said and motioned to the members that had already scattered themselves around the saloon, some at the poker table, some by the bar stock. “They had a rough go at it. Can you please make sure they have a pleasant evening?”

“Well, of course, sir!” Howard beamed, already putting the bills in his back pocket. “I’ve been serving drinks at this saloon since before the war, sir, I know what people need.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Dutch said, patting Howard on the back. “Now, people,” he turned his attention to the gang, his voice raising a few octaves. “Tonight, we celebrate. I want all of you to enjoy yourself. Drink, eat, gamble and do whatever else you want, as much as you want. You deserve it.”

Dutch’s address was met with loud cheers and long applause and thus, the night began.

The last time Howard served so many people so quickly was in ’65 when the war ended. Yet, even then he didn’t remember having to go into the basement to bring more stock and having to wake up his sons so they could help serve the patrons quicker. As he filled each glass to the brim, he wondered how people could drink so much.

You wondered too as you watched your fellow gang members down one drink after another after another. Some fared better than others. Dutch and Hosea, preferring to enjoy their liquor rather than get wasted, sat in the corner of the room by the fire, nursing their whiskey and already planning their next move. Lenny, still being young and inexperienced, was already dancing hand in hand with Sean, who despite not being new to drinking, couldn’t hold his liquor. Pearson, along with Uncle, started playing their instruments and added live music to the mix of singing, laughter and talking that already filled the saloon. Even Charles joined in on harmonica a few times.

Howard wondered what the lot of you did to call for such a celebration, but he knew better than to ask questions. The money was paid and the drinks were sold; that’s all that mattered.

To say that you were tipsy was an understatement. Perhaps drinking a shot of whiskey and chasing it with a beer was not a good idea, but good ideas rarely made their way into your head, especially when running with the Van Der Linde gang. You were sitting in Arthur’s lap, your arms draped lazily over his form, your head on his shoulder. The two of you were sitting at the poker table, with the other players being Javier, John and Micah. All four of the men were far too drunk to make the right moves or plan their strategies, yet it didn’t stop them from gambling their share of the bank job and hoping for the best.

Unsurprisingly to you, Arthur was winning. Out of all the four men, he was the least inebriated (no thanks to his big size and ability to hold liquor), and even when the drinks were not in play, Arthur was generally a good player, knowing when to hold, to fold, or to walk away. Each time he won some, you’d land a kiss on his neck or his cheek and whisper in his ear, “Good job, love.” The stoic, ruthless gunslinger would turn into mush at your words and your touch, and with a pink blush on his cheeks would say, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Despite enjoying a game of poker from time to time yourself, you found yourself a little bored and were looking forward to when the game would finish. As you sat in Arthur laps, waiting for the men to call it a night, your eyes traveled over the saloon, taking in the scenery around. It was a nice change to see the gang members so happy and carefree, the only thing on their mind, their next drink.

As you scanned the room, your eyes met with Sadie’s. She was leaning against the bar stock with a drink in her hand. You couldn’t read the exact look in her eyes; it was fierce, determined and hot. Hot. That’s exactly how you felt under her gaze. You shifted under Arthur, suddenly too aware that you were sitting on his lap. He groaned a little, one of his hands coming up to your hip to stop your movements.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he said under his breath, loud enough only for you to hear. You could still feel Sadie’s gaze, could see it from the corner of your eyes. His hand massaged your hip a little and he added, “I’m almost done here. Wanna go upstairs?”

A salacious smile, fueled by the alcohol in your veins and Arthur’s body against yours spread on your lips, and you hid your head in the crook of his neck, whispering, “You know I do.”

Arthur chuckled, before turning back to the game.

“All in,” he said.

Javier dropped out, but John and Micah went along, going all in.

One card up, second card up.

“Yes!”

You almost jumped out of Arthur’s lap as he roared, scooping up his winnings in no time.

John groaned, dropping his head onto the table with a loud thud, already preparing himself for Abigail’s wrath as soon as she would find out. Micah, on the other hand, was fuming, and his face was almost as red from the rage as his shirt. “Stupid game,” he said as he got up from the table and went to the barman, getting himself another drink.

“I got lady luck in my lap,” Arthur said before turning his head to you, capturing your lips in a kiss. You moaned against his lips and waved your fingers through his hair, not caring even a bit at the John and Javier present, the latter even whistling at your display of love. One of his hands was on your hip, and the other started to make its way up your leg and under your skirt, dangerously close to the hem of your drawers.

You broke the kiss, panting slightly, and said, “How about we get a room?” you said before kissing his jaw and adding, “Unless you want to take me right here at the table.”

He could feel himself stiffen at your words, and without wasting anymore time, got up from the chair and took your hand in his. No one paid you and Arthur any attention as you traversed through the saloon, everybody too busy with their own conversations or drink, except for Sadie. You could feel her eyes the entire time as you walked across the room to the stairs, and your mouth felt dry when you walked right past her, her deep, brown eyes staring right into your soul and calling out to something. As you walked up the stairs, you turned back one last time, and saw her sending you a warm, though hinting, smile.

The two of you giggled and laughed as you tried to undress each other, the alcohol doing its job at making your fingers nimble.

He pushed you against the door as he ravished your mouth, making your head feel dizzy and your need for air almost as strong as the need for Arthur. When he broke away from your lips, his mouth turned to attacking your neck, leaving kisses and hickeys all up and down the column of your neck as his hands worked on undoing the buttons of your blouse.

“Oh my god, Arthur,” you moaned, your eyes closed as Arthur finally discarded your blouse and revealed your chest to him, his mouth landing on one of your nipples while his fingers worked on the other.

“Been hard since the moment you sat your pretty little ass down on my lap,” he groaned against your chest. He sucked on one of your nipples, covering it in his spit before adding, “Thought of taking you right then and there when I felt your nipples brush against me.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, your fingers in his hair as he placed his mouth back on your chest, giving your other nipple the same treatment.

“You sure were as good with them cards tonight as you are with your mouth,” you said breathlessly when he released your nipple.

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice dropping an octave and having a dangerous edge to it, “There’s a lot of things I’m good at.”

“Then show me, cowboy,” you said as you pushed him a little before dropping your skirt together with your drawers on the ground, presenting yourself to Arthur in all your naked glory. He could feel his mouth go dry upon seeing your body, illuminated by a faint light from the lantern. No matter how many times he saw you naked, you always managed to take his breath away and wonder what he did to deserve a creature as marvelous as you.

He picked you up effortlessly and carried you to the bed. The cotton sheets felt cool and soft against your skin as Arthur laid you down before covering your body with his, his mouth on yours in seconds.

“Too many clothes,” you mumbled against his lips and pulled on his suspenders, the strap hitting him with an audible slap when you released it.

He didn’t waste much time, pushing his suspenders to the side and pulling out his shirt before throwing it on the floor, revealing his golden chest and torso to your eyes. You ran your hand up his torso, through the light blonde hair that covered it and up to his chest where you could hear his heart beat wildly. His hands were on his pants, ready to pull them down and reveal his leaking cock when a knock on the door froze both of you. You both darted your heads to the door, wondering who and for what reason would knock on your door. Perhaps it was one of your drunk friends, lost and trying to find an available room.

When neither of you answered, keeping still and quiet despite your breathing hard and heavy, a voice spoke from behind the door.

“It’s Sadie,” she said as if mentioning that it’s her and not one of the drunken boys would make a difference and by god, it did.

Her intense stare flashed before your eyes and you once again felt the weight of it over you. Perhaps the alcohol was doing it’s job, making you bolder and daring, but you turned your eyes at Arthur, searching for something in them; a visible ‘no’, a confusion or some sort of opposition, but when none came, you turned back towards the door and said, “Come in.”

You saw the doorknob twist before the door opened with an audible creak. As soon as Sadie passed through the threshold and closed the door behind her, her eyes landed on the two of you on the bed.

Arthur was just in his pants, situated between your naked, spread legs. Her eyes raked over his golden chest down to the bulge in his pants before darting to you, your nipples perky and at attention, your chest rising and falling each time you took a breath. It didn’t miss you when she licked her lips, her eyes still on your naked body.

“I…” she began, sounding just a hint sheepish, “I’m interested in joining. If it's okay with the two of you that is.”

You could feel yourself clench around nothing and your heart rate pick up a few beats upon hearing her words. From the way she occasionally watched you and Arthur engaging in some PDA and the looks the two of you would often share, you could feel something more than friendly feelings floating in the air. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t curious; Sadie was a beautiful woman; from her piercing brown eyes, to her full lips and her dirty blonde hair. You caught yourself thinking that she reminded you of Arthur in some ways, both of them having a similar, burning fire in them, bravery that could rival anyone else’s in the gang as well as a softer, caring side. Maybe that’s why you liked her and weren’t opposed to what she was suggesting.

You licked your lips and was more than ready to say yes, but turned to Arthur. After how long the two of you had been together, you didn’t need to use words to communicate. You looked at him, raising your brows slightly, silently asking, “Are you okay with this?” He gave you a lopsided grin, nodding his head just a tiny bit, his way of saying, “If you are, I am.”

You smiled before biting your lip and turning your head to Sadie. Arthur moved to the side, making room for you so you could get up from the bed. “Join us,” you said when you came to stand next to her, taking her hand in yours. She flashed you a smile, the one that was making you weak in the knees, before one of her hands made its way to the back of your head, bringing your head closer to hers. You could feel her breath against your lips, could smell the strong scent of whiskey on them. It felt that just by inhaling the scent, you were getting more intoxicated.

Her lips were soft and warm as she pressed them against yours, stealing your breath away as she kissed you. You tangled your fingers in her hair, deepening the kiss and moaning against her mouth when she slipped her tongue in. All tongue and teeth, the kiss was desperate and needy, as if the two of you were starving for each other. Arthur could do nothing but watch as the two of you kissed, his mind on fire at looking at one of the most erotic things he’s ever seen in his life. He could feel himself become rock hard to the point of pain, and palmed his erection through his pants, trying to relieve some of the tension.

Her clothes dropped on the floor in a pile as you helped to disrobe her, your lips not leaving her for more than a few seconds as you helped her pull her blouse over her head and her pants down. Your lips were swollen and wet when the two of you finally broke apart, lazy grins on your faces. You turned around to look at Arthur; he looked desperate and needy as he sat on the bed, his cock already in his hands, rock solid, leaking and red at the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, and you smiled at Sadie before the two of you made your way to Arthur.

“Ladies,” he groaned as the two of you got up on the bed, making your way to Arthur like panthers to their prey. You pushed his hand aside, replacing it with yours. If there was heaven, then this was certainly it, Arthur thought when he watched the two of you bring your lips to his cock, your mouth on his tip while Sadie’s on his base. He fought back the urge to snap his hips forward, pushing more of himself in your mouth, and decided to simply take what the two of you were giving him. While you sucked on his head, popping the head in your mouth from time to time before sucking on it, Sadie was kissing up and down his cock, making a mess as her spit covered him from the base to the middle. Arthur couldn’t help but twitch when she took one of his balls in her mouth, and you took his cock deeper, the head hitting the back of your throat. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he moaned loud, perhaps too loud, at all the attention he was getting.

Thankfully, the two of you didn’t torture him for too long or otherwise he was sure he would’ve been cumming down your throat within minutes. As Sadie popped his balls from her mouth, and you took his cock out of yours, you kissed once again. Neither of you minded the taste of the man on each other’s lips, perhaps even chasing it as your tongues clashed against each other.

You turned to look at Arthur, your eyes almost completely black and full of lust, and said, “Arthur, I want you to fuck Sadie.” Your hands ran up his cock, giving a few slow, sensual strokes and earning a groan from him before adding, “I want her to feel how good your cock is.”

To say that he was expecting the night to go down like this would be a lie, but that’s not to say that he wasn’t enjoying it. He didn’t trust his words, so he simply nodded his head and pushed his hips a little for emphasis.

Sadie’s hand was in yours as she moved to straddle Arthur, his cock right against her nether lips. He could feel her witness coating his member, the heat from her lips already spreading over him. Arthur held himself in his hand as Sadie lowered herself on his cock, moaning at the stretch of being filled by him, pleasure bordering on pain from how thick he was. You kissed her all over, her neck, her cheeks, her lips, her chest, as she took him inch by inch, her breathing ragged and her eyes closed. When he was all the way in, his pelvis flush with her, it was as if everybody breathed a sigh of relief. Sadie felt full, unbelievably so, and without even moving, she could already feel unbelievable pleasure filling her.

You lowered your head to Arthur’s, kissing over his neck before bringing your lips to his ear and said, “Make her feel good, Arthur.”

The first pull and push of his cock had Sadie cry out in pleasure, her face contorted in ecstasy as Arthur pushed deep inside her. His hands were on her hips as he held her in place, pistoling his cock in and out of her wet channel. You could feel your wetness run down your legs as you watched her, so lost in pleasure and so beautiful as she moaned.

With his hands still on her hips, he turned his face to you, capturing your lips in a kiss. You could feel his hunger and desperation as his tongue danced around your’s, making your head spin from the intensity of the kiss.

When he broke away, a spit connecting your lips just for a moment, he said, “I want to feel you too.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. With excitement and lust and arousal coursing through your veins, you sat up on the bed before swinging your legs over Arthur’s head and bringing your soaked pussy over his mouth. He removed one of his hand’s from Sadie’s hips (who was now riding him in earnest herself, taking her pleasures from his cock) and placed it on one of your thighs to bring you down over his mouth.

Your moans joined Sadie’s as Arthur sucked on your sopping lips, before diving his tongue right into your hole. The room filled with nothing but sounds of moans, groans and skin slapping against skin. Perhaps, if someone looked up a definition of hedonism, a picture of the three of you would be there, indulging in your most basic carnal desires and chasing your pleasures.

With your eyes closed and your mouth open, you could do nothing but shake with pleasure as Arthur ate you out, his skillful tongue working between plunging itself into your hole and sucking on your clit. The feeling of Sadie’s hand on your cheek made you open your eyes. She was completely debauched, her face flush from arousal, her pussy wet and dripping as Arthur fucked into her. She brought your face to hers and kissed you, her tongue pushing past your lips right away. From Arthur tongue in your pussy to Sadie’s in your mouth, you could feel yourself nearing the edge.

“Fuck!” Sadie cried out, breaking away from your lips as her orgasm washed over her like a tsunami. Arthur didn’t let up for a moment, pistoling his hips in and out of her quivering hole until she couldn’t take it anymore. She felt herself gush all over him as he brought her to the peak of pleasures to the point where it was becoming all too much and she had to stop. She breathed heavily as she recovered, sitting to the side and waiting for the ringing in her ears to pass.

Satisfied with making one of the women happy, Arthur turned his full attention to you, both of his hands on your thigh, bringing you impossible close to his face, so much so that you wondered how he breathed.

“Arthur,” you moaned as he fucked you with his tongue and brought his thumb to play with your clit.

Sadie was at your side then, kissing down your neck till she reached your nipple and sucked on it.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, tears welling in your eyes as all the sensations were becoming too much. “You’re gonna make me cum,” you said to both of them, and not a moment later, you did.

You kept riding Arthur’s face as you chased your orgasm, crying his and Sadie’s name as they kept bringing you higher and higher. After a few more moments, you finally came to a stop, your thighs still shaking as Arthur helped you from his face down to the bed, laying at one of your sides while Sadie laid at your other. He kissed up and down your neck, leaving small bites and hickeys all over, while Sadie kissed over your chest, marking you as well.

Only after a few moments did it dawn on you that despite making the two of you cum and see stars, Arthur still hasn’t, his cock rock hard.

As if thinking the same thing, Sadie looked up at your from between your breasts, saying, “I wanna watch him fuck you,” before licking your nipple.

You moaned at that, your pussy twitching in anticipation, and looked at Arthur.

You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but you wanted to watch Arthur cum, so you spoke against his lips. “Arthur, please.”

He could never say no to you, not when you spoke his name with such a need in your voice. He smiled against your lips, brushing his nose against yours before saying, “Anything for you, darlin’.”

You parted your thighs to accommodate him and licked your lips when he took his cock in his hand, giving himself a few pumps before pushing just the head of his cock in. There was more than enough preparation, your own wetness and Arthur’s spit running down your pussy and your thighs, yet you still felt that familiar burn as he split you open, pushing more of himself in.

Inch by inch, he filled you, taking a pause here and there to let you get used to the feeling of him filling you to the brim. When he was all the way in, the head of his cock pushing so deep inside you you could practically taste it, you sighted his name, your head rolling back on the pillows and your fingers clawing at the sheets.

Sadie’s hand was on your lower abdomen, right where she could feel Arthur push in you.

She licked her lips before turning to him and said, “Fuck her proper, Arthur.”

The drag of his cockhead over your insides had you clench around him, the tears in your eyes coming back as your sensitive walls spasmed over him. One of your hands was clawing at the back of your pillows, the other at the sheets under you, and you could do little more than simply take Arthur’s pistoning, his cock reducing you to cries and moans of his name.

Sadie turned your head towards her, capturing your lips in her once again before speaking against them. “Tell me how good he’s making you feel,” she said.

You tried to speak, but as you opened your mouth, a moan came out as Arthur delivered a particularly rough thrust, hitting that special place inside of you. Out of the corner of your eyes you could see him smirk.

“So good, Sadie,” you finally managed. The bliss you were feeling had your mind going haywire as Arthur’s thrusts pushed you closer and closer to the edge of euphoria. “Fuck. He’s fucking me so good,” you moaned, your words no doubt feeding Arthur’s ego, making him puff out his chest more and fuck you harder into the mattress, “He’s gonna make me cum.”

Sadie smiled before kissing you once again, alternating between sucking on your tongue and delving hers into your mouth.

Arthur was at the end of his rope. He was holding out his own release, hoping to deliver you to yours first, but it was proving hard when your cunt spasmed over him each time he pushed inside. It didn’t help either that you and Sadie were all over each other, your lips against one another, your hands exploring each other’s bodies. Not even in his wildest dreams or fantasies had he seen something like this.

He placed both of his hands on the back of your thighs before pushing them up so your legs hung on his shoulder, kissing one of your ankles as he did so. Your legs twitched each time he slammed back in, the new position making him go in even deeper if that was possible, and if it wasn’t for Sadie’s mouth on yours, you were sure your scream’s would’ve definitely alerted somebody.

Delicate and slow, her hand traveled from one of your breasts, down your stomach and to your wet pussy. She could feel where Arthur was entering you again and again, the wetness around your walls making for an easy, though loud with sloppy sounds, entrance. Using two of her fingers, she started to add small circular motions around your clit, making your toes curl.

With the combination of Sadie’s fingers on your clit and Arthur’s cock in your pussy, you came, arching your back from the bed as pleasure coursed through your veins, so hard you thought you were gonna blackout from it. Sadie kissed you through it, muffling your cries and moans and screams with her mouth. The orgasm swept over you like a hurricane, leaving you completely boneless as you laid there, managing to do nothing more than keep taking Arthur’s cock.

The feeling of you spasming and tightening over him was too much for Arthur. “Fuck, darlin’, I’m close,” he said, the sweat on his face making it shiny.

With Sadie’s mouth away from yours, you managed a broken cry and a small, “Yes” moving your hips just a little to help Arthur to his release.

Sadie moved her hand from where it was near your clit to where Arthur was entering your sopping pussy again and again. With a mischievous smile, she took his balls in her hand and fondled them before saying, “Fill her up, Arthur.”

Arthur came with a heavy groan, his pace all out of rhythm as he kept pushing his cock into you, stuffing you full of his cum until you could feel it running down your thighs.

At last, he stilled, his breathing heavy as he pulled out of you and lowered your legs from his shoulder to the bed.

You could feel Arthur’s sweat drop from his forehead to yours as he bent down to kiss you, slow and tender, before dropping to your side. His head was on the pillow as he stared at the ceiling, still trying to comprehend what had just happened. On your other side, Sadie was catching her breath too, the activities you just engaged in making her previously clear complexion looking a tad bit pink. You could see a satisfied smile on her lips as she raised herself on her elbows to look at you, brushing a piece of hair out of your face before laying back down on the bed, one of her hands under her head.

As you laid there, well-fucked, satisfied and bemused, you wondered how you’d look Sadie in the eyes in the morning, when the effects of alcohol and lust would vanish, and you’d have nowhere to hide as the sun would illuminate every corner of the room. You remembered Dutch’s words, telling all of you to enjoy yourself. “As much as you want,” he specified. You’re not sure if he had this in mind when saying that.

Sadie, however, decided to not wait for the morning and spoke up now, saying, “Might I say that the two of you sure know how to fuck.”

The ease with which she spoke eased your restless nerves, and you felt yourself relax as you laughed at her words. At your side, Arthur couldn’t help but shake his head, a small smirk playing at his lips.

You knew the next morning would still bring the awkward laughs and pink blushes, but you decided you could deal with that later. Right now, you were happy to enjoy the warmness of the two bodies pressed at your sides.

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lorenfangor · 3 years

Note

I heard that #40 was super homophobic :/ so I skipped it. But now your fic is making me want to give it a try. How problematic is it? Are the characters worth it?

Okay.

Let’s talk about #40.

The plot of The Other (a Marco POV) is that Marco sees an Andalite on a video tape sent in to some Unsolved Mysteries-esque TV show, and he assumes it’s Ax and hauls ass to save him from being captured. Ax, being Ax, has videotaped the show, and they pull it up and Tobias uses his hawk eyes to figure out that it’s not Ax, it’s another Andalite - one without a tailblade. Ax is appalled at the presence of this vecol (an Andalite word for a disabled person) and we find out that he and others of his species have deep ingrained prejudices against at least some kinds of disabled people.

Despite this, Marco and Ax go looking for the Andalite in question because he’s been spotted by national TV, and they meet a second one, named Gafinilan-Estrif-Valad. The vecol is Mertil-Iscar-Elmand, a former fighter pilot with a reputation and Gafinilan’s coded-gay life partner. The two of them have been on Earth since book 1; they crashed their fighters on the planet and have been trapped there thanks to the GalaxyTree going down. Gafinilan has adopted a human cover, a physics professor, and they’ve been living in secret ever since.

Thanks to that tape, Mertil has been captured by Visser Three, and he’s not morph-capable so he can’t escape. Gafinilan wants to trade the leader of the “Andalite Bandits” to the Yeerks to get his boyfriend back; he can’t fight to free Mertil because he’s terminally ill with a genetic disorder that will eventually kill him, and (it’s implied that) the Yeerks aren’t interested in disabled hosts, even disabled Andalite ones. Despite Ax’s ableism, the Animorphs agree to work with Gafinilan and free Mertil, and they’re successful. Marco ends the book talking about how there are all kinds of prejudices you’ll have to face and boxes that people will put you in, and you can’t necessarily escape them even if they’re reductive and inaccurate, but you can still live your life with pride.

So now that I’ve explained the plot, I’m gonna come out the gate saying that I love this book. I love it wholeheartedly, I love Marco’s narration, I love Ax having to deal with Andalite society’s ableism, I love these characters, and as a disabled lesbian I don’t find these disabled gays to be inherently Bad Rep.

that’s of course just my opinion and it doesn’t overshadow other issues that people might have? but at the same time, I don’t like the seemingly-common narrative that this book is all bad all the time, and I want to offer up a different read.To that end, I’m going to go point by point through some of the criticisms and common complaints that I’ve seen across the fandom over the years.

“Mertil and Gafinilan were put on a bus after one appearance because they were gay!”

this is one I’m going to have to disagree with hardcore. I talked about this yesterday, but in Animorphs there are a lot of characters or ideas that only get introduced once or twice and then get written off or dropped - in order off the top of my head, #11 (the Amazon trip), #16 (Fenestre and his cannibalism), #17 (the oatmeal), #18 (the hint of Yeerks doing genetic experiments in the hospital basement), #24/#39/#42 (the Helmacrons’ ability to detect morphing tech), #25 (the Venber), #28 (experiments with limiting brain function through drugs), #34 (the Hork-Bajir homeworld being retaken, the Ixcila procedure), #36 (the Nartec), #41 (Jake’s Bad Future Dream), and #44 (the Aboriginal people Cassie meets in Australia) all feature things that either seem to exist just for the sake of having a particular trope explored Animorphs-style or to feature an idea for One Single Book.

This is a series that’s episodic and has a very limited overall story arc because of how children’s literature in the 90s was structured - these books are closer to The Saddle Club, Sweet Valley High, Animal Ark, or The Baby-Sitters’ Club than they are to Harry Potter or A Series of Unfortunate Events. Mertil and Gafinilan don’t get to be in more than one book because they’re not established in the main cast or the supporting cast, I don’t think that it’s solely got anything to do with their being gay.

“Gafinilan has AIDS, this is a book about AIDS, and that’s homophobic!”

Okay, this is… hard. First, yes, Gafinilan does have a terminal illness. Yes, Gafinilan is gay. No, Soola’s Disease is not AIDS.

I have two responses to this, and I’ll attack them in order of their occurrence in my thought. First, there’s coded AIDS diseases all over genre fiction, especially genre fiction from that era, because the AIDS epidemic made a massive impact on public life and fundamentally changed both how the public perceived illness and queerness and how queer people themselves experienced it. I was too young to live through it, but my dad’s college roommate was out, and my dad himself has a lot of friends who he just ceases to talk about if the conversation gets past 1986 or so - this was devastating and it got examined in art for more reasons than “gay people all have AIDS”, and I dislike the implication that the only reason it could ever appear was as a tired stereotype or a message that Being Queer Means Death. Gafinilan is kind, fond of flowers, and fond of children - he’s multifaceted, and he’s got a terminal illness. Those kinds of people really exist, and they aren’t Bad Rep.

Second off, Soola’s Disease? Really isn’t AIDS. It’s a congenital genetic illness that develops over time, cannot be transmitted, and does not carry a serious stigma the way AIDS did. Gafinilan also has access to a cure - he could become a nothlit and no longer be afflicted by it, even if it’s considered somewhat dishonorable to go nothlit to escape that way. That’s not AIDS, and in fact at no point in my read and rereads did I assume that his having a terminal illness was supposed to be a commentary on homosexuality until I found out that other people were assuming it.

“Mertil losing his tail means he’s lost his masculinity, and that’s bad because he’s gay! That’s homophobic!”

so this is another one I’ve gotta hardcore disagree with, because while Mertil is one of two Very Obviously Queer Characters, he’s not the only character who loses something fundamental about himself, or even loses access to sexual and/or romantic capability in ways he was familiar with.

Tobias and Arbron both get ripped out of their ordinary normal lives by going nothlit in bad situations, and while they both wind up finding fulfillment and freedom despite that, it’s still traumatic, even more for Arbron I’d say than for Tobias. And on a psychological level, none of the main cast is left unmarked or free of trauma or free of deep change thanks to the bad things that have happened to them - they’re no less fundamentally altered than Mertil, even if it’s mental rather than physical. And yes, tail loss is equated with castration or emasculation, but that doesn’t automatically mean Mertil suffering it is tied to his homosexuality and therefore the takeaway we’re intended to have is “Being gay is tragic and makes you less of a man”. This is a series where bad shit happens to everyone, and enduring losses that take away things central to one’s self-conception or identity or body is just part of the story.

Also, frankly? Plenty of IRL disabled people have to grapple with a loss of sexual function, and again, they’re not Bad Rep just because they’re messy.

“Andalite society is confusingly written in this book, and the disability aspects are clearly just a coverup for the gay stuff!”

Andalite society is canonically sexist, a bit exceptionalist and prejudiced in their own favor, and pretty contradictory and often challenged internally on its own norms. In essence, it’s a pretty ordinary society, and they’re really realistic as sci-fi races go. It makes sense from that perspective that Andalites would tolerate scarring or a lost stalk eye or a lost skull eye, but not tolerate serious injuries that significantly impact your perceived quality of life. Ableism is like that - it’s not one-size-fits-all. I look at Ax’s reactions and I see a lot of my own family and friends’ behaviors - this vibes with my understanding of prejudice, you know?

“Mertil and Gafinilan have a tragic ending, which means the story is saying that being gay dooms you to tragedy!”

Mertil and Gafinilan have the best possible ending that they could ask for? They are victims of the war, they are suffering because of the war, they get the same cocktail of trauma and damage that every other soldier gets. But unlike Jake and Tobias and Marco, unlike Elfangor, unlike Aximili? Their ending comes in peace, in their own home. Gafinilan isn’t dying alone, he’s got the love of his life with him. Mertil isn’t going to be as isolated anymore, he’s got Marco for a friend. Animorphs is a tragedy, it’s not a happy story, it’s not something that guarantees a beautiful sunshine-and-roses ending for everyone, and I love tragedy, and so I will fight for this story. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it deserved better. But it’s not less meaningful just because it’s sad. Nobody is entitled to anything in this book, and it’s just as true for these two as it is for anyone else.

“It’s not cool that the only canonically gay characters in this series don’t get to be happy and trauma-free and unblemished Good Rep!”

This is one I can kind of understand, and I’ll give some ground to it, because it is sucky. The only thing I’ll say is that I stand by my argument that nothing that happens to Mertil and Gafinilan is unusual compared to what happens to the rest of the cast, and that their ending is way happier than Rachel and Tobias’s, or Jake and Cassie’s. But it’s a legitimate point of frustration, and the one argument I’ll say I agree has validity.

(Though, I also want to point out that I think there are plenty of equally queercoded characters in the story who aren’t Mertil and Gafinilan - Tobias, Rachel, Cassie, and Marco all get at least one or two moments that signal to me that they’re potentially LGBT+, not to mention Mr. Tidwell and Illim in #29 and their long-term domestic partnership. There’s no reason to assume that the only queer people here are those two aliens when Marco’s descriptions of Jake exist.)

“Marco uses slurs and reduces Gafinilan’s whole identity to his illness!”

Technically, yes, this is true, except putting it that way strips the whole passage of its context. Marco is discussing the boxes society puts you into, the ones you don’t have a choice about facing or escaping. He’s talking about negative stereotypes and reductive generalizations, he’s referring to them as bad things that you get inflicted upon you by an outside world or by friends who don’t know the whole story or the real you. The slurs he uses are real slurs that get thrown at people still, and they’re not okay, and the point is that they’re not okay but assholes are going to call you by them anyway. He ends by saying “you just have to learn to live with it”, and since this is coming from a fifteen-year-old Latino kid who we know is picked on by bullies for all sorts of reasons and who faces racism and homophobia? He knows what he’s talking about. He’s bitter about what’s been said and done, he’s not stating it like it’s a good thing.

Yes, absolutely, this speech is a product of its time, but it’s a product of its time that speaks of defiance and says “We aren’t what we’re said to be,” and in the year this was published? That’s a good message.

tl;dr The Other is good, actually, and Mertil and Gafinilan are incredible characters who deserve all the love they could possibly get.

#animorphs #animorphs meta #mertil/gafinilan #mertil #gafinilan #mertil-iscar-elmand #gafinilan-estrif-valad

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jackie5656 · 3 years

Text

Truth or Dare

With; Stiles Stilinski

IMPORTANT A/N:I’m officially down bad folks. But I wanted to say there’s a song I need you to play during a specific part of this story. It really only lasts a minute, and you’ll know when to play it. ALSO do not skip over this fic just because the song is by 1D I promise it’s fitting and not fangirl cringe. But this is tumblr an app practically made for that...@ me. Anyways I appreciate all the recent love on my work, and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Teen drinking

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“Y/n”

“Mmm.”

“Do you have a crush on anyone?” Of course Isaac, shit-eating smirk and all would be stirring the pot. Knowing damn well you’ve made eyes at Stiles for as long as he’d known you. You stare him down with a knowing smile, taking a slow sip of your drink before answering.

“Yeah”

Stiles raises his brows in surprise at your nonchalant response. If you did have a crush, wouldn’t you have told him? All he did was rant about Lydia to you. Though, he hadn’t talked about her in a while. Seeing as his feelings for her had seemingly fizzled away earlier this year. It was odd, one day he was madly in love with the girl and the next he wasn’t. Either way, he’s surprised at the twinge of anger he feels at your words. Jealousy

The realization scares him, what was he jealous for?

“Interesting y/n/n, who’s grabbed your attention?” Isaac presses, the two of you not breaking contact as you take another challenging gulp of your drinks. A couple of the pack members exchange worried glances. The two of you always have a habit of teasingly pushing each other’s buttons, but issac seems to be pressing a little too much. As if he knows something the others don’t.

The twinging heat in Stile’s stomach ignited, burining much brighter than before as his eyes dart between the two of you. What the hell was this? When had you and Isaac become so close? Close enough to confess each other’s crushes. He grips the solo cup in hand harder, having ignored the bubbling beverage until now.

“You’re only allowed one question Isaac. And you just used it.” You counter matter of factly, leaning back into your chair simultaneously with the blonde. The others watch your interaction intently, all having noticed the tension grow.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink.” Stiles announces suddenly, weaving between the various patio chairs as the attention turns to him.

“Aren’t you driving?” Scott interjects worriedly, not letting the change in his friends demeanor go unnoticed. Stiles pauses, turning on his heel and facing the group of you with a mischievous, somewhat forced smile .

“We can sleep here. Right Lydia? Your mom said you had the cabin for the weekend?”

“Uh, yeah. I only had a few of the guest rooms prepared. But there’s definitely enough room for everyone.” She replies, tone hesitant due to the shift energy.

“Everyone down to stay the night?” Stiles inquires, practically challenging the group to say no.

“Fun!” Lydia interjects before any of you can protest “I’ll set up the rest of the rooms. It’ll be like one big sleepover! Allison, help me grab some pillows and blankets from the basement?” She pulls the raven-haired teen along before she can answer. Shooting you a ‘what the hell just happened’ look before tugging Allison past Stiles and into the house. Leaving you, Scott, Isaac, and Stiles to deal with the lingering tension.

“Back in a sec.” stiles raises his cup in a sort of salute before making his way through the sliding glass door and towards the kitchen.

“Is someone gonna tell me what I’m missing here?” Scott inquires confusedly, looking just as astonished as the girls at how odd the three of you were acting. Scott was your other best friend, and of course knew you’d been crushing on Stiles for ages. But nothing had stemmed from it until now.

“Looks like everyone knows y/n’s crushing except the one she’s crushing on.” Issac offers with a smirk. Laughing when you get out of your seat to playfully shove his head to the side.

“You’re such an ass. I’m going to check on him.” You head towards the kitchen with what little pride you have left, shooting up your middle finger behind your back when you hear the two boys having a laughing fit at something Scott mumbles.

Usually, you’re the one drinking when the lot of you hang out. Lydia and Allison sip on something most times, but of course Isaac and Scott can only do it for taste. Even then, Isaac only takes shots with you to see who won’t make a face at the bitter beverage (bastard always wins). That’s why it’s such a surprise when you walk in the kitchen to see Stiles adding a significant amount of liquor to a fresh cup of soda, eyes boring into the liquid as if it’s just insulted him. Your eyes subtly trace over the way he clenches his jaw, pushing away the butterflies you feel when you observe his veiny hands gripping the cup. Jesus you need to touch some grass

“Easy there. Trying to out-drink me Stilinski?” You push your cup towards him gingerly, putting up your hand to signal him when to stop pouring.

“Something like that.” Stiles mumbles with a tight lipped smile, taking a gulp from the cup and making an insanely dramatic grimace. Shivering and shaking his head violently at the shock of the taste.

“You’re usually not one to drink.” You let it come out as more of a question than a statement, laughing amusedly at his spurratic reactions.

“Yeah, well...” Is all he replies, shrugging before taking another sip. This time only blinking hard to withstand the flavor. Your head cocks to the side in curiosity, holding your tongue before trying to ask what’s up with him. His eyes narrow at your actions, the fiery feeling before burning once more as he takes in your cute expression. Damn you, it’s like you’re trying to get him riled up. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but whatever feelings the brunettes been harboring are starting to bubble over. He figures he’s always had eyes for you, but it wasn’t exactly a convenient time to come to the realization he’d fallen for you. It’d been a long time coming admittedly, but it’s not like he could act on it. Well, maybe he could. He shakes away the lustful thoughts when you lean against the counter beside him. Wearing one of your more revealing tops tonight. He swears you’re doing this shit on purpose.

“Ready to go back out?” You suggest with raised brows, hoping the liquor will brighten his mood. He nods, following you back through the living room and towards the back patio. Surveying the newly placed pillows and blankets beside the couch as he steps out towards the fire pit.

“You’re back, finally! Stiles, it’s your turn to ask someone.” Lydia claps her hands to get your attention. You and Stiles sitting next to each other on one of the couches amongst the undoubtably expensive outdoor furniture.

“Alright. Isaac, truth or dare?” Stiles challenges the blonde from across the fire pit. Isaac smirks, adjusting himself on the couch opposite you.

“You guys know me, I’m mostly an open book. But with they way you’re staring me down, I’ll go with truth and skip out on whatever dare you’re fantasizing about in that big brain of yours.”

Stiles scoffs with a forced smile, just slightly moving closer to you when he sees you and Isaac make what contact.

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”

“Can we do repeat questions?”

“Don’t bullshit me Lahey, answer me.” Stiles isn’t necessarily rude, but doesn’t show any signs of breaking his serious expression when Isaac raises his brows with an amused laugh. He looks over at you, before letting his eyes fall on Allison. You don’t let their intense eye contact go unnoticed, despite it only being for a split second.

“Yeah, I do.” He mutters simply, sitting back in his seat with an uncaring smile. You can tell he is in fact shitting himself internally, being one of the few people able to see through his cocky facade.

Without a juicy enough answer, Lydia begins to give a dare. “Alright Scott, truth or-”

“Can I go again?” Issac interjects, your stomach dropping when you can practically see the gears turning in that mischievous mind of his.

“Well, it’s Scott’s turn to be asked.”

“No worries, the question is for him.”

“Well, alright.” Lydia looks between you and Allison with another ‘what the hell’ expression. Neither of you can think of an answer.

“Okay Scott. Truth or dare?”

“Uh, dare. I guess.” The tanned boy replies, not as amused when the attention turns to him.

“Kiss y/n.” Stiles chokes on his drink before the rest can even react, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his flannel sheepishly when the rest of you have your eyes on him. Scott gets up from his chair reluctantly, moving towards the couch where you’re sitting and offering you a hand up. You take it with a nervous chuckle, smile brightening when the taller boy grabs the sides of you head a plants a quick peck to your forehead. Each of you giving a respectful bow and courtesy as the group claps.

“What was that?” Isaac teases, amused expression adorning his features at the cute interaction.

“You weren’t specific about it, you just said to kiss her.” Scott explains with a prideful smile, happy to have found a loophole in his dare. He’s always been like a big brother to you, even though you never let him forget you’re a month older.

“I thought it was sweet.” Allison muses, having found the interaction between her ex boyfriend and you simply cute. Of course her and Lydia never fail to point out the way you longingly stare at your sarcastic best friend just about every minute of every day.

“Thank you, thank you. We try our best.” You give another curtsy before sitting back down, tucking your legs under yourself and letting the tops of your knees lean against Stiles’ thigh. His tense shoulders seem to ease at the contact, despite wanting to shoot out across the fire pit and pumble Isaac.

“Okay Allison, truth or dare?” Lydia turns her attention to the brunnette beside her, eager to continue the game.

“Dare.”

“Chug your drink.”

Allison groans, pursing her lips in a small pout and raising her drink to you in suggestion. Seeing as you often participate in chugging contests at Lydia’s infamous parties, you’re not one to step down from the offer.

“Fine, I’ll be your moral support. Stiles, you wanna join?” You’re happy he’s finally trying to let loose, and you’re honestly eager to see a drunk Stiles. He leans over you to see how much liquid is in your cup and Allison’s, nodding when he observes that they all have just about the same amount.

“Why not, don’t expect to win though.” You scoff at his cocky remark, scrambling up from your sitting position and moving over to the speaker playing some pop song quietly.

“I need some motivation, not that this’ll be much of a challenge.” You counter playfully, confidence brightening when your three friends that aren’t participating start placing bills down to bet. With the increase of volume, you can feel the base of the music vibrate beneath your feet as you sit back down beside Stiles.

“Ready? 3, 2 ,1 go!” You’re a bit surprised at Scott’s enthusiasm, but figure he’s just as eager as the others to win his money. Immediately, you Stiles and Allison start gulping down the bitter liquid. You open your eyes for a split second, observing how far your opponents have gotten. Stiles shoots his arm out towards you, playfully trying to knock the cup out of your hand whilst chugging. You do the same, hitting his arm away and tilting your head even farther back to finish. You’re done only a split second before the other two, who finish at the same time, grimacing not only from defeat but by the foreign bitter taste. You raise your empty cup as playful whoops erupt from the spectators.

“That’s my girl.” Isaac cheers idly, bumping the sides of his fist with your own as he happily collects his earnings.

“Don’t I get a percentage? I did all the work!”

“y/l/n, they don’t pay the race horses. All the money goes to the lucky better.”

“I should have put my money on you.” Scott groans, laughing when Stiles playfully shoves him.

“I was close, she cheated!” Stiles excitedly argues, and you’re glad his mood has improved since before.

“Like hell we were, she killed us. And I for one will not be participating. I’m definitely placing a bet though.” Allison retorts, reaching into her wallet for cash.

“Do you really want to be embarrassed again Stiles? I’m not going easy on you.”

“Bring it on y/n/n.”

*****

“Okay, we’re officially turning in. Will you guys be okay?” Lydia yawns as she finishes, Scott and Allison getting up as well.

“What? The party was just getting st-started!” Stiles hiccups with raised arms.

“Sti, it’s 2 in the morning. We all need to get some rest for the drive tomorrow.” Scott explains, ruffling his drunken best friends hair and chuckling when he slowly swats his hands away.

“Whatever dad. You’ll stay up with me?” Stiles turns to you with a hopeful expression, eyebrows furrowing when Scott distracts you with a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re okay to get him to bed?” He asks whilst ignoring Stiles’ offended expression at the notion, turning to head inside when you nod.

“I would stay, but then I’d be a third wheel so...Night!” Isaac chimes with a charming grin, dodging your attempt at hitting him and planting a quick kiss to your temple before rushing inside.You and Stiles mumble reluctant replies when the rest of the pack shouts their good-nights, their absence bumming you out.

“Lame.” You simultaneously deadpan, giggling into your cups at the jinx. The fire’s only embers by now, a chill running down your spine at the sudden,cool summer night air.

“Mmm.” Stiles hums through the his cup, attempting to shrug off his flannel whilst holding the plastic between his teeth. “Take this, it’s cold.” You shake your head quickly, dizzying at the movement.

“I’m fine, if I took it you’d be cold.” You giggle when he rolls his eyes, cup in his mouth slashing a little bit of liquid down his chin when he continues to try and maneuver out of the fabric. “You’re such a lightweight.”

“Am n-not!” He hiccups between words, mumbling due to the plastic still clenched between his teeth. You laugh again, shuffling across the couch to help him out of the shirt. You know he’ll only persist if you refuse again, deciding to give in to his stubborn behavior instead of arguing. You get his arm that’s closest the you out of the first sleeve, reaching across his lap to help remove the other.

Stiles is instantly overwhelmed with the scent of that sweet perfume you’re always wearing. The heat emanating from your body disorienting him for moment before he remembers the cup still in his mouth. You finally get his other arm free, sitting back on your legs only to meet his droopy brown eyes. He looks a little stunned, and you realize the alcohol’s made you a bit more bold than usual. His face is only inches away, close enough for you to smell the alcohol on his tongue. Slowly, he removes the cup from his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. You take a sharp intake of breath, the air between ou tingling with some sort of buzz as your eyes avert down to his now visible lips. His eyes go down too, and you’re reminded of the wrap shirt Lydia had forced you to borrow, exposing a bit more chest than you’re used to. He clears his throat shuffling mere centimetres closer to you as his hands move towards your neck. This is it, he’s finally going to-

“You’re necklace, it’s messed up.” His voice cracks as he speaks, and you try not to completely deflate when he clears his throat gain as he clumsily drags the chain so the charm is back against the soft skin between your collarbones.

“Oh, thanks.” You internally cringe at how disappointed you sound, shrugging on the warm fabric of his flannel and leaning back against the couch.

******

You’re sitting on the counter and watching amusedly as Stiles clumsily searches the cabinets for something to eat.

“These people eat like hamsters, where’s the junk food?” He whines, exasperated from his mere 30 second search.

“Sti?”

“Hmm?”

“Truth or drink.” He let’s out another whine at your words, giving up on his search and leaning against the counter across you expectantly. Admittedly, he’s pretty tipsy and nearing drunk, not to mention pretty pissed that he chickened out earlier. He feigns annoyance when you nibble on your thumb to think of a question, heart melting when he observes how your feet kick in the air as the dangle off the counter top.

“Kiss marry kill. Isaac, Derek, and Scott.” He groans at your words, lips upturning to a smirk when you giggle into your cup.

“Can’t I just marry Scott, then kill Isaac and Derek?” He tries to argue but you immediately shake your head, expectant of a complete answer. “Fine. Kiss Derek, marry Scott, and kill Isaac.”

“Why Isaac?”

“Because he’s an ass, and he wears scarves in the summer. My turn.” You roll your eyes at his words, awaiting his question.

“Do you have a crush on Isaac?” Your eyebrows furrow in shock, shaking your head and laughing loudly at the notion. Sure, Isaac was hot, but you’d never had that sort of feelings for each other. He was more like a brother if anything, just like Scott. Stiles seems surprised at your answer, persisting the moment you quiet down. “Then who was he talking about before?”

“It’s actually my turn, no double questions. What were you so mad about before?” If he wanted to get personal, you might as well match the energy. He rolls his shoulders at the question, bringing the cup to his lips to hide his smile when you throw your hands up in defeat.

“Coward.” you grimace playfully, pouting when he only shrugs at your insult.

He jumps, startled when you gasp suddenly and reach over the counter. Turning up the volume on the stereo from before you’d brought inside. ‘Wolves’ by one direction, plays much louder now that you’ve turned the notch on the device.

“Oh my god, why?” Stiles dramatically looks up to the ceiling when you hop off the counter in excitement. Of course, he recalls the first time he’d heard the song. You’d forced him and Scott to listen to it in the jeep one night, saying it was just too ironic to not make it ‘your song.’ And whether him or Scott want to admit it or not, they’d belted out the lyrics with you a few times before.

You’re grabbing his hands before he can protest farther, rolling up the baggy sleeves of his flannel for the umpteenth time that evening as you begin to move to the opening notes, pulling him along with you. You thank the alcohol for your surge of confidence and the easy sway of your hips, grateful for the liquid courage.

“You totally love this song!” You shout over the music, too drunk to care if the others are awoken by your antics.

“Totally don’t!” Stiles retorts just as loud, laughing when you raise his arm so you can spin under it. Beginning to bob his head and mumbling the lyrics you’re currently shouting.

In the middle of the night when the wolves come out, headed straight for your heart like a bullet in the dark.

One by one, I gotta take them down,

We can run and hide, ain’t going down without a fight

You both howl obnoxiously with the music, jumping and spinning as it booms through the speakers. The alcohols hitting now, effectively loosening his muscles and making the both of you laugh obnoxiously at how stupid you probably look. Despite the silliness of it all, it’s the most at ease Stiles has felt in a while. There’s a certain energy you bring, a type of way you make him feel that’s always drawn you so close.You stumble over to the stereo when the third verse comes on, grin not leaving your lips when you feel his reluctance to let go of your hand. You turn the music down, not familiar enough with the remaining verses to be able to sing it. Besides, you were lucky enough Lydia hadn’t come down there, slippers and all, to scold you both to bed.

“That’s it? There’s more to the song!”

“I thought you didn’t like it?” You pant out, both out breath as you move beside him to lean against the counter once more.

“I-I don’t, just like dancing with you.” He blurts out, too intoxicated to care to filter his words. You study the spacey look in his eyes, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and exhilaration. It’s funny, a few months ago this would’ve just been any other sleepover with your best friend. But it’s different now, you can only assume he too has noticed the shift in energy between you. The electricity

“Sti?”

“Hmm?”

“Truth or dare.”

“Wh-what?” He turns to face you, brows furrowing at your hopeful eyes.

“Truth or dare.”

“We’re still doing this?”

“Just say dare!” You persist, hitting his chest in annoyance. The alcohol’s coursing through your veins, giving you too much confidence for your own good.

“Fine, dare.” He’s confused at your change in behavior, not recognizing the mischievous expression on your face.

“Kiss me.”

And that’s when Stiles Stilinski, Romeo himself, pukes into the kitchen sink.

*********

“I am not th-that drunk.” He stops mid sentences, clutching his chest and pausing to suppress a particularly violent hiccup.

“Sure Sti, tell that to the vomit on your shirt.” You huff out, half listening to the belligerent boy towering over you as you guide him towards the bathroom. He’s gotten significantly drunker while you were cleaning the sink, all the alcohol finally catching up to his inexperienced self. And sure, the slurred words and tousled hair was cute at first, but now he was a much too heavy toddler you were practically dragging to the bathroom.

“I wan’ sleep.” You fumble out a laugh at his childish demeanor, shuffling into the guest bathroom and flipping on the switch to illuminate the area, much to the drunk boy’s distaste as his droopy eyes adjust to the light. Admittedly, your’re also significantly intoxicated, thought process definitely a little slower than usual. Luckily, you’ve had enough experience to know when to cut yourself off.

“You can sleep after I get you to stop reeking of vomit, now arms up.” You order sternly, heart melting when his lips puff into a small pout at your words. He does as told, lanky arms high up in the air as you hastily pull the fabric up and over his head, careful not to get the throw up anywhere else on him. You run the cotton under the sink, wreching at the smell. The things you do for your friends

When his shirt is thoroughly washed, you diligently wring it out and hang it on the rack with the hand towels beside the counter. Crouching down to inspect the cabinet under the sink for anything to clean yourselves up with. You grab a small washcloth and a spare bottle of mouthwash, placing the items on the counter and meeting Stiles’ gaze. He’s a bit zoned out, but he’s smiling sweetly down at you as he watches you work.

“You’re like, really pretty.”

“And you totally can’t handle you’re liquor.” You retort with a roll of your eyes, pushing away the butterflies his words release. “Now swish and spit, your breath stinks.” Without as much of a fuss, he takes the bottle and does as instructed, letting out a dramatic ‘aah’ and giggling when you meet eyes in the mirror. You follow after him, figuring that’d have to be the maximum dental hygeine for the night considering the time crunch. You grab the rag from the counter, running it under the water and lathering soap into it before lifting it towards the boy beside you.

“Can I wash you off real quick?” You wait for his nod of approval, chuckling at the hilarity of the situation s you run the warm rag across his upper chest. “This’ll be one hell of a story.”

“Mmm.” He only hums in response, looking down at you intently, serious expression making your head tilt to the side in question.

“What?”

“Nothin, just sorry I didn’t kiss you.” Your movements halt at his words, continuing when you turn your attention back down to your task instead of his eyes.

“Told you I could out drink you. Next time don’t challenge me to shots.”

“N-noted.”

******

“Shhhh!” Your eyes are wide in warning as you make your way down the hall, arms wrapped around Stiles in support as he stumbles along with you.

“Shhh-shhh.” He mimics your actions, bringing a clumsy finger to his lips as you hold back a laugh. Finally, you set him down on the bed, turning towards the guest room dresser and tossing the sweats and t shirt Lydia must have left there to him. He groans, quickly undressing and tugging on the new clothes. Laying back down on the bed and throwing his forearm to cover his eyes as you change into Lydia’s spare shorts, figuring the shirt and flannel you still had on were sufficient enough as pjs.

You and Scott had fallen asleep during late nights at Stiles’ house numerous times whilst investigating Beacon Hills latest supernatural threat. So it’s not surprising when Stiles clumsily shuffles under the silky duvet with a satisfied sigh, lifting the covers so you can climb in next to him. It’s a queen sized bed, much bigger than the creaky twin you’ve shared before. Still, Stiles moves even closer, you’re well aware he’ll only fall asleep if he’s in the very middle of the mattress. It’s quiet, and you happily settle into the covers as sleep tugs at your eyelids. Only opening one eye when the boy beside you turns onto his side to face you.

“You know y/n, I miss when we were little. L-like when we used to dress up in our moms clothes, and then I twisted my ankle wearing my moms heels.” You chuckle fondly at his slurred retelling of the memory, images flashing by of when you were kids. He studies you, trying to commit the sweet laugh to memory before continuing. “I mean, I like where we are now. I do, because we’re still best friends and I still love you.”

“I love you too Sti.”

“N-no, no you don’t get it.” He shakes his head vigorously, drunken state dramatizing his movements as he argues. Sounding almost solemn at your response. “I mean I love you, and it’s terrifying. A pretty new revaluation might I add, so I thought getting drunk might help. Am I drunk?”

“Yes, very much so. And you should sleep before you say something-”

“No! I meas you have to know this. What if like, I never told you and then...Well I never would have told you! That’s like, Shakespeare tragedy bullshit and we’re definitely better than that. So, I love you. And not in the ‘we took baths together and played dress up in our moms clothes’ type love. It’s the ‘I’m always confused because you give me this...Weird tingly feeling and I never know how to go about it and it makes me want to kiss you’ type of love...I guess. Am I like, really drunk?” You’re to say the least stunned with his confession, though the various hiccups in between sentences didn’t call for the most romantic ambiance.

“Yeah, you’re pretty wasted.” You smooth out his messy hair, too exhausted (and tipsy) to want to accept any of this is actually happening.

“Sorry I didn’t kiss you. The vomiting was unrelated to you making a move on me, just so we’re clear.” He croaks out, voice rasped from the lull of oncoming slumber.

“And here I was thinking I made you nauseous.”

“No, you do give me butterflies though. Too pretty.” He muses, chuckling when you push away his face, nose having booped yours to accentuate his point. It can’t be legal to be this cute while intoxicated.

“You gotta close your eyes Sti, have to sleep off all this alcohol.”

“M’kay. You’ll stay with me the whole night?”

“Always.”

**********

It’s fairly early when you finally wake, sunlight seeping into the room from the early morning light. You want more than anything to go back to bed, figuring another hour would help ware off the pounding headache tormenting your skull. Only assuming Stiles must feel even worse. It’s then, when you try to shuffle closer into his body warmth, that you realize the bed is empty. The space where he’s laid beside you is still warm, and you reluctantly sit up with the harsh reality that everyone else must be awake too.

You follow the scent of bacon to the kitchen, immediately met with a very grumpy looking Stiles hunched over a cup of coffee. He’s wearing Scott’s lacrosse hoodie, sunglasses covering his eyes and hood pulled over his head to shield himself from any intruding light. You sit down on the stool of the island he’s leaning against, offering a sympathetic smile when he pushes the steaming mug towards you with a grunt.

“Morning everyone!” Isaac chimes with a bright smile, slapping the two of you on the back as you simultaneously groan.

“Late night?”

“You know, I’m usually appreciative of the cheeky sarcasm Scott. But if you don’t wipe that smirk off your face right now, I will seriously consider castrating you.” You stare down the alpha, not even phasing his cheerful demeanor.

“Well before you do that, have some breakfast.” Allison only laughs when the two of you gladly pull the plates she’s placed in front you closer with a genuine murmur of ‘thank yous’. Eager to have the food soak up the alcohol and rid you of the awful hangover.

“And this is why I don’t drink.” Lydia retorts, placing down a bottle of Advil between you with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Speaking of, what was that music last night? Scared me half to death.” Allison inquires, looking to the others with a knowing smile when you and Stiles laugh through a forkful of hash browns, eyes on each other and avoiding the others. The two of you might not see it, but you’re practically married with how in sync you are. Always giving each other side eye when approached by someone you both hate, finishing each others sentences. You make a perfect pair, if only one of you had the balls to act on it.

“Flannel looks good on you y/n.” Isaac snickers, tugging on your elongated sleeve with a grin. Only more amused when you flip him off in silence.

“You know, none of the guys I’ve hooked up with have never offered me their shirts.” Lydia pouts while pushing around the eggs on her plate, shocked when you and Stiles simultaneously choke on your (now individual) coffees.

“We, we didn’t hook up!” Stiles defends, now unable to meet your mortified gaze.

“Well, I know that I just mean-”

“Hold on. Am I missing something here? You two have seriously never...I mean never?” Isaac looks genuinely bewildered as he rambles on, Allison and Scott not so discreetly giggling into their mugs as the conversation continues.

“No!”

“Seriously? I’m always teasing because I figured it was all just unspoken knowledge.” The blonde’s genuinely intrigued, not noticing Lydia’s persistent signals to stop talking. “Scott, you’re telling me you can’t smell the sexual ten-”

“OKAY, we’ll be leaving now. Lydia, thank you for having us-”

“And thank you for the liquor we’re seriously regretting right now.” You finish the farewell for Stiles, grabbing your things and headed out the door before any of them can protest.

“See you at home!” Scott yells out, still finding the situation between his best friends hilarious.

“And always use protect-” Isaac’s voice is cut off when Stiles slams the front door behind him, the both of you trudging towards the jeep. The boy letting out another groan and pinching his nose when you pull the door shut a little too hard, loud noise ringing in his ears.

You fumble through the glove compartment when he pulls out of the long driveway and towards the road, satisfied when you find a spare pair of sunglasses under a pile of crumpled papers.

“You keep this up and I won’t have any more clothes.”

“To be fair, you insisted I put this on.” You argue, referring to the cotton shirt wrapped around you. “How much do you remember of last night anyway?” He chuckles at your question, rubbing his hand over his jaw in contemplation.

“Geez, well there was truth or dare with everyone. They turned in early and you and I hung outside a bit longer. I was...Looking for food in the kitchen and there was dnacing? And I’m pretty sure there was a bathroom involved.”

“You may or may not have puked in Lydia’s sink.” Stiles slaps a hand over his face at your words, laughing along with you when he sees your amusement in his new-found knowledge.

“I’m so sorry, was I a total pain?”

Of course not! You only confessed your love to me like you were expressing a new hobby in which you now have no recollection of.

“Nah, I helped you clean up and then we went to bed. Besides, you’ve taken care of my drunk ass plenty of times.” He observes you in small glances he can get between looking at the road. You seem as though you’re holding back.

To be honest, you were a bit frustrated. On one hand, you could just be honest with him and explain hat he’d said. But he was wasted, and it felt wrong to confess for him. Besides, if he wanted to act on his feelings he would have. And that definitely hurt, but it probably meant he had the same concerns as you. Being best friends made this shit complicated. With everything going on in this town, you had a lot of responsibilities to withhold. You couldn’t afford to lose each other. Ironically, you loved each other too much to risk starting a relationship.

“Sti, you just passed my neighborhood.”

“Yeah. It’s still early and I’m not waiting for this hangover to pass alone. We’re going to my place.”

“Star Wars and pizza?”

“Star Wars and pizza.”

*********

“I’m just saying, the amount of accidental incest in medi is actually uncanny.”

“You bring this up every time we watch A New Hope.”

“I know, but seriously!” He shuffles on his bed, pushing away the pizza box with only a few pieces of crust remaining inside. “Just like that movie you’re always making me watch. The one with the girl and her step-brother.”

“Hey! I told you, Clueless is so much better when you pretend Josh is just a family friend!”

“But we shouldn’t have to pretend it wasn’t originally written about two step siblings falling in love. I mean, what kind of trope is that?”

“Fair enough, I guess old rich white men all have a thing for their siblings.”

“Gross, I’m officially grossed out.” When your laughter settles down, Stiles starts to mess with his fingers. Looking between you and his lap as if debating with his next words.

“Listen, are you sure I didn’t...Say anything last night?” You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, figuring you could at least tell your own truth without completely exposing his.

“Stiles, we were both pretty drunk. I don’t know, I guess something could have happened?”

“How do you mean?” You’re unsettled with how awkward this has all become. But it’s not like this could keep going unsaid. It was too much of a weight to be concealing all of this from him. Stiles was the person you went to for a good vent, and you can’t really vent to your best friend about...Well, being in love with your best friend.

“I may have possibly, maybe asked you to kiss me. And you might have thrown up right after the offer.” His eyes bulge in surprise, and you cover your face with a strained cry at the confession. “It’s your fault for asking!” You whine, instantly regretting saying anything in the first place. This was dumb, you were totally dumb, and no you looked like a complete fool, all because of stupid Stiles.

“Hey.” His voice is soft when he pulls your hands down, mischievous smirk utterly confusing you. “Truth or dare?”

“You do remember! You asshole!” You shout instantly, slapping at his chest as he laughs.

“Woah, woah wait. I may have remembered a bit more than I mentioned in the car. But how was I supposed to know you actually wanted to kiss me or if it was the tequila talking? I figured maybe if you told me the truth, then I’d know if you really meant it.” You stare at him blankly, not nearly as amused as he is.

“If it’s any consolation, you look really cute when you’re pissed at me.”

“Charming, Stilinksi. Do you happen to remember the part where your blacked out ass gave an entire monologue about how in love with me you are? And how sorry you were that you didn't kiss-” With that, he takes hod of the side of your face and connects your lips to his Finally releasing whatever tension that’s been building for agonizing months. It’s nice, really nice, but he’s not getting away that easy. You smack his chest again, fighting the urge to pull him back into you when you observe how flushed he looks.

“Ow, stop hitting me! I had to do something, you were embarrassing me!”

“Good! I’m glad you feel a smidge of what I do, Romeo. You’re just gonna kiss me?”

“I’m sorry, should I not have? Did I totally just misread that?”

“N-no. I mean, I wanted to kiss you. But I figured the only reason you hadn’t said something sooner...Or sober, was because you were afraid of what I was afraid of. With all the shit we go through, I wouldn’t ever want to jeopardize our friendship.” He’s silent at that, trying to find a way in which to convey his thoughts.

“Y/n, we’re a part of the pack. Nothing can break that bond. No matter what, you’re my best friend first. Whatever shit come our way next, we’ll know how to handle it together, like we always do. Besides, if I ever hurt you Scott and Isaac would make sure I never saw the light of day again.” You chuckle softly at his words, feeling a weight you hadn’t known was there lifted off your shoulders.

“I think this is the part where you ask the final truth or dare.”

“Well, I would dare you to kiss me, but you have to promise you wont puke again.”

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mimi-ya · 3 years

Text

burden ~ trafalgar law x reader

1,400 words | m!reader

a/n: @wheres-mystogan i really hope you enjoy!! your ideas and characteristics for the reader were so fun and unique to write!

masterlist

Trafalgar Law loved his crew. Truly, he did. But sometimes…

“Heh, hey captain!” Your cheeks splits with a smile, “I was hoping you’d show up!”

Law glares down the bridge of his nose. You’re quite happy for someone shackled behind bars.

But let’s round back to how you got into that position.

The Polar Tang had docked at a bustling island that morning. Law had made it very clear the purpose of stopping was only to refill on supplies, and he wanted to be gone by the evening. But that didn’t stop you from stripping out of your jumpsuit the second your feet hit the sand.

“Captain! The water is so warm!” He watches as you dunk your head into the salt water before popping back up, “Come in!”

Law scoffs, not even bothering to comment on the fact he can’t join you before turning to Penguin, “Make sure he doesn’t drown.” Law waves at Bepo, “Let’s go.”

The two make their way into the large city off the coast. It didn’t seem like they were the only pirates in the area, but Law wasn’t looking for trouble. It had already been a long week of dodging Navy ships almost every other day and the last thing he needed was to start something on land.

Bepo was always Law’s first choice for supply runs. The mink had great strength to carry the boxes of medical supplies and bags of food without the complaining he would receive from other crew members. And Law was happy to realize they had crossed off every needed item from their list much earlier than expected.

“Think we have time for a drink?” Law nods at the tavern across the street.

“Please captain.” Bepo says, sweat dampening his fur “I think I’m going to overheat.” Law rolls his eyes fondly at the same excuse the mink always has.

It’s clear the tavern has seen better days, but the crowd seems lively and pleased enough with the service. Finding a table in the back corner, Law and Bepo take a seat, signaling for a couple of drinks from the server.

He had hoped the secluded corner would drive away any unwanted company, but it seemed that didn’t work when people knew your face.

“Trafalgar Law.” The large imposing man cast a shadow over the table, “Thought I could smell trash on this island.”

“Eustass-ya.” Law smirks at the little eye twitch he gets in return for the casual greeting, “Mind fucking off? You’re ruining the taste of my ale.”

Kid growls, hands clenched into fists. It looks like he’s about to lunge over the table but is pulled back by his masked crewmate. Law scoffs, smiling into his drink at the sight.

But a smirk grows on Kid’s face that makes Law a little weary, “Quite comfortable for someone who’s crew was just dragged through town by the Navy.” Kid’s eyes widen with glee when he sees Law’s confused look, “That is unless there’s some other dumbass running around with your shit jolly roger.”

“Captain!” Bepo cries, Law already flying out of his seat and charging towards the door before Kid could finish his taunting.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to find yourself in quite the precarious situations that other Heart Pirates had to help you out of. But Law had explicitly told the rest of the crew to stay out of town. Not to mention he tasked Penguin in looking after you, who will definitely be getting his ass kicked as soon as Law is through with yours.

It wasn’t hard to locate where the Navy was keeping you, especially after spotting Shachi and Penguin in the alley, in what looks to be an intense hand game to decide who would going in to save you.

“It hasn’t even been three hours.” They both freeze at the sound of their captain behind them.

“Captain!” Penguin cries, “It wasn’t my fault, really!”

“Tch. I don’t want to hear it.” Law readjusts his sword slung over his shoulder, “Go help Bepo with the supplies and have the Tang ready to depart when I get there.”

Law doesn’t even bother to wait for their response before he shambles inside. He makes quick work of the marine grunts who are sitting at desks, doesn’t even have to ask for the key when someone is offering it in exchange to be put back together.

Law leaves most of the marines in pieces as he makes his way into the basement. He can’t help but grind his teeth when he hears the familiar humming coming from a cell at the end of the hall.

“Heh, hey captain!” Your cheeks splits with a smile, “I was hoping you’d show up!”

Law glares down the bridge of his nose. You’re quite happy for someone shackled behind bars.

“Care to explain how you found yourself in this mess?”

You scramble to your feet, trying to get closer but are held back by the cuffs connecting you to the wall, “I swear captain! I didn’t leave the beach, I don’t even know how the Navy knew I was with you!”

Law raises a brow, eyes flicking down to your bare chest with the Heart Pirates jolly roger inked into your skin on proud display.

“Oh.” The chains rattle as you rub the back of your neck, embarrassment heating your cheeks, “Guess I forgot about that one.”

“You’re on bathroom duty for a month for this one.” Law mutters, throwing up the blue tint of his room.

A whine escapes your lips, “But that puts me at four months straight now!”

“Then quit getting yourself into shit like this.” And then you feel the familiar woosh accompanied with Law’s ability, the sun’s harsh beams suddenly blinding your eyes as he’s freed you from the cell.

The others were so glad and relieved to see you had been rescued. An overdramatic reunion if you ask Law, but he let them indulge in their hugs and tears for a moment before pulling you into his office.

“You get hurt at all?” Law asks, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Ehh, I might have bumped my head a bit.” You rub the smarting bruise that’s forming on your forehead.

“Sit.” Law directs you to the examination table, finally putting the two of you at eye level. And at this angle, Law can see the slight discoloring. He gently runs a thumb over the tender flesh, “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

You shrug, “Didn’t want to be too much of a bother.” Your eyes follow Law’s form as he grabs a bottle from the cabinet, dipping a finger in and pulling out a dollop of ointment, “Tried to stop the marines.” You mumble, feeling very aware of your presence as Law leans in closer to apply the mixture.

“With what, your head?”

And you think it might be some attempt of a joke from your usually stoic captain, but he isn’t far off, “Heh, well. You know I’m no good with my hands.”

Law pulls back, slight surprise and worry in his eyes, “Don’t do that (Y/N)-ya. You know you’re not a fighter.”

Your shoulders slump slightly, and you stare at the floor, “I just don’t want everyone to think I’m a worthless crewmate or some kind of burden.”

Law places the jar on the table beside you, his free hand gripping your chin to meet his stare, “You’re not worthless, and you’re defiantly not a burden. We all have our strengths.” Before letting go and returning the ointment to the cabinet.

You heart skips a beat at the seriousness of his tone, eyes wide as you watch him pull off his gloves and toss them into the wastebin.

You jump to your feet, coming up behind Law to wrap him in a hug, “You’re the best, Captain!” Before leaning down and planting a kiss on his cheek.

Law barely has time to process it before you’re out the door with that humming echoing down the hall. His hand brushes where your lips burned into his skin, and he’s sure his entire face is flushed red with his mouth hanging open a little.

“Tch.” Law mumbles to himself, praying he’ll have a few minutes of solitude to regain his composure before the next crisis, “I just meant you’re good at cleaning the bathroom.”

#trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law imagine #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #op imagine #op x reader

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zafirosreverie · 3 years

Note

Hey can I request a Agatha x reader where reader and Agatha were together before the hex happed. But when Agatha and reader went through the hex wall something went wrong and reader was forced to play the role of Agnes wife. But reader gets terrible headaches that sometimes cause here to pass out. And Agatha is trying to figure out how to save reader. I love your work so much can’t wait for more😍😍🥰🥰.

Sorry it took me so long dear. I hope you like it!

Warnings: hints from nsfw near the end but nothing actually explicit.

a/n: ”f/f” it’s for your favorite flower.

Two wives (Agatha x Fem!reader)

Agatha jumped when she heard the cup breaking in the kitchen. She quickly stood up from the couch and ran to the other room. She gasped when she saw you on the floor, the ceramic pieces around you, one even cut your hand.

“Y/N” she said and quickly kneeled beside you, pressing a finger on your temple. Her magic touched you and you opened your eyes, coughing. She helped you to sit and made you rest against her body.

“Agnes” you gasped and she felt her heart breaking. So it was one of those days.

You and Agatha had been together for a long time now (well, at least a long time for you) and she found herself falling in love with you everyday. You were cute, funny, loving and practically perfect. You were the calm to her chaos and she thought that was beautiful. You complimented each other.

But you were human, and really, really beautiful, which led Agatha to worry a little too much for you. She was always by your side when men got too close to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, making sure they understand you were taken. She would also keep an eye on you when you wandered through the library, the park, or the market, making sure you were always safe. She was pretty protective of you.

That’s why she felt so bad right now.

When you two arrived at Westview, she knew something powerful was happening, so she made sure you were protected before crossing the barrier. She put almost every protective spell she knew over you.

Almost was the key word. She later cursed herself for being so idiot. She should have known that something was wrong the moment she felt the chaos magic. She should have suspected that it had something to do with mental magic. But she didn’t and you paid the price.

Without turning, she changed both of your clothes to match the 50’s, then she turned to you and smiled, but you were zoned out and it scared her. She gently touched your cheek and that seemed to make you come back from your thoughts, but when you talked, she knew something went wrong at some point. Really, really wrong.

“Oh Agnes, don’t look at me like that sweetheart, I was joking, you know i would never find Dottie attractive” you had joked and she frowned. She hadn't told you her fake name yet. And who the hell was Dottie?

“Let’s go darling, dinner’s getting cold” You said and she blinked when you walked through the streets as if you always lived there.

Later, when Agatha learnt what was happening in Westview, she understood. You weren’t her sweet Y/N anymore. You were F/N, Agnes’ wife. She supposed it could have been worse. You could have ended being someone else’s wife, and she knew she wouldn’t have been able to hold herself if that was the case and would have punched that person on the face, risking the whole plan.

When she followed you to the house your characters were supposed to live in, she immediately used her magic to wake you up. You had been so scared and she was quickly holding you in her arms. You said your head hurted like hell and she took you to the kitchen to make tea for you.

That was the beginning of the nightmare.

The next day, you woke up too early and made her breakfast and waited for her to come downstairs, like a good housewife should. It took her a moment to realise you were F/N again. She frowned, a little confused, but used her magic again and you passed out.

She ran to you and catched you before you could hit the floor, not knowing what was happening. When you woke up, you were Y/N again, and told her the headache was worse than before. Agatha felt so bad but assured you she would make it stop. She took you to the bedroom and let you rest. But you were F/N when you came downstairs later that night.

That has been Agatha’s reality since then. She never knew when you were going to wake up as Y/N or as F/N. And honestly, she didn’t know which one she prefered right now. She wanted you to be yourself, of course,she missed you so much. But when you were Y/N, you would have that headache that would make you pass out too often.

And you being F/N made it easier for her to trick Wanda. But it wasn’t you. It was your voice, your body. But it wasn’t her lovely Y/N. (although she had to admit that Agnes had a good taste in women).

She tried to take you out of the town, deciding that straling Wanda’s powers wasn’t worthy. Not when it was hurting you. But when she tried to cross the barrier with you, you screamed and curled up on the floor. She was so scared and took you to the house again. You were unconscious for two days, scaring the hell out of her.

In that time, she tried to understand what happened and she came to the conclusion that F/N and her memories were already too deep in your mind. She needed to make Wanda lift the spell and free you.

“Agnes?” Your voice made her jump and dragged her to the present. She didn’t feel you (or, well, F/N) getting up.

“As much as you look beautiful sitting like that on the floor, dear, you’re gonna be late for work” you said and Agatha sighed as she stood up. Forcing a smile, she walked to you and wrapped her arms around you.

“Sorry, love, i just got lost in your spell” she said and you blushed. Well, at least you were still so cute when you blushed. She kissed you gently and you giggled.

“Okay, enough. Get out of here” you said and unwrapped yourself from her arms, turning to clean the cup’s pieces.

Agatha sighed and left the kitchen, straight to the basement. She always spent the time she was supposed to be “working” there, trying to find another way to save you. Why did Wanda’s fake reality decide Agnes was the one bringing money to the house while you were the one staying at home, was ahead of her. But at least Agnes had a lovely wife to greet her at the door after a long day of work.

“Lucky Agnes” Agatha said with sarcasm and rolled her eyes. Lord, she missed you.

She took her book and started reading. She already read it, three times actually, and deep inside she knew there wasn’t anything there to help you. But, what if there was? What if she missed something important? She already made so many mistakes that trapped you there, she wouldn’t risk this.

She read for hours, her hopes slowly fading. Why did she have to bring you here?! Why did she put you in danger?

“Aggie?” your voice came upstairs and she sighed. She guessed it was time for Agnes to come ho-

Wait.

You didn’t call for Agnes. You called for-

“Agatha Harkness, bring your ass here or I’m gonna take full custody of our son!” you yelled.

The witch threw her book aside and quickly ran upstairs. Once again, she didn’t know what was happening, but she knew that an angry Y/N was even more dangerous and hot than even the scarlet witch herself.

She found you in the living room, with señor scratchy in your arms. You seemed fine.

“Y/N?” She asked as she carefully approached you. You turned and she stopped when she saw the anger on your eyes.

Someone was in big troubles. Probably her.

“I want her head” you growled and she blinked.

“I- what?”

“Wanda Maximoff! I want that little witch’s head” you said and left the bunny on the couch, walking to her.

She sighed in relief internally. At least you were not angry with her. And lord, you were so damn hot with that fire in your eyes. She couldn't help but roaming her eyes down your body with lust.

“Eyes up Harkness!” you said and she jumped, looking at your face again. You smirked.

“How are you awake?” she asked, a little confused. Did you pass out and awake being Y/N? that thought made her feel guilty for not being there to take care of you.

“You see, at least one of my wives is romantic” you joked and she frowned. You chuckled and pointed to the f/f she got for you this morning. They were the same she gave you on your first date.

In the whole time you’ve been there, she never gave you flowers, or did anything romantic with you (well, not her usual romantic, just the fake dates Agnes and F/N went to). She didn’t see the point if she never knew who you were.

But this morning, a part of herself told her to give them to you. She didn’t question it, she just did. Then the incident with the cup happened and she forgot about them.

Now she knew what you were talking about. That part of herself that told her to bring the flowers. At least one of my wives is romantic. Agnes gave them to you.

“How sweet of her, right?” you said and she looked at you. You smiled, taking a step closer to her and wrapping your arms around her neck “I think she found a way to free me” you whispered.

“How?” Agatha asked eagerly, wrapping her arms on your waist.

“Y/N has to replace F/N’s memories” you said “And my best memories are with you”

She felt her heart jumping at the last sentence and smiled. She caressed your cheek and you smiled before you kissed her deeply. Her hands wandered over your body, happy that there was a hope to finally have you completely back. You smirked when you broke the kiss and locked eyes with her.

“When I’m totally me again, I want Wanda’s head” you said “Nobody, and I mean nobody, takes me away from my wife like this” you growled and Agatha was once again lost in the fire of your eyes.

“You’ll have it, love” she promised, letting her hands wander over your body again and you smirked.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” you asked “We have to re do all my memories. The dates and all”

“I think we can skip to our wedding night” she winked and kissed your neck. You laughed and took her head, making her lock eyes with you again.

“I was actually thinking about our third date” you said and she moaned. That third date was amazing. The first time she made you hers. “I still have the ropes” you whispered and she groaned, taking you in her arms and carrying you to the bedroom.

Remember when she said you were cute, funny, loving and practically perfect? Well, you were also naughty, sexy, hot and with an evil vein a kilometer long.

She was sure at least one of you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow (with all that fire in you, it would be most probably her), but who was she to fight the devil?

#x reader #reader insert #imagine #agatha harkness #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x reader #agnes imagine #agnes x reader #kathryn hahn #marvel #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x y/n #request

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nightwishesworld · 3 years

Text

A Better Way

Because I am unhappy with our beloved wife’s death I decided to write my own.

That being said...SPOILERS!!!!!!!! I wrote this based on and referenced canon events in the game. If you wanna skip this and wait for the game’s official release in a few days I completely understand.

Alcina’s form trembles atop the pile of rubble she created during their fall. Somehow that lowlife Ethan survived the fall as well. Fuck, what does it take to kill that man? Even in her monstrous form, she failed to stop a flimsy little mortal man. Is he really that powerful? Or is she simply the weak little rat Mother Miranda always said she was? The answer is obvious now.

Alcina knows this is it for her. There is no winning or even recovering from this. She’s lost way too much blood and is in no state to replenish herself. She hears him stumble to his feet somewhere beside her and grab his gun. It doesn’t bother her anymore. Even now as she turns to stare down the barrel of a shotgun she knows she deserves what’s to come. She failed in her task.

Everyone that depends on her is now in grave danger and it’s all her fault. Because she wasn’t good enough to protect her family from a single human man.

Her family....

Images of her beautiful daughters' lifeless piles of ash lying abandoned on the floor like yesterday’s garbage hurt her more than any weapons could hope to. What kind of mother let her daughters, her own flesh and blood, get slaughtered because she was too incompetent to take care of a little pest? A failure of a mother. Their blood is on her hands, not Ethan’s.

Mother Miranda will have to make the call to Heisenberg to let him know why Ethan is on his way to the factory. And about them. After everything that this woman has done for her and her family and this is how Alcina repays her? How pathetic of her. And her little brother as well. She’s failed everyone she cared about on this god-forsaken earth.

Alcina sighs as Ethan cocks his gun and inches closer and closer to her. After letting out a long exhale she opens her eyes and stared down at him. He’s in shit-shape but he’ll survive. Suddenly that doesn’t sound so bad. If he can finish the job, at least.

“Do it,” she whispers, and her voice cracks. Alcina will not cry in front of this vile creature; she refuses. “I am nothing without the love of my daughters. I’d rather die than live a day without their presence.”

She could have sworn she saw a hint of remorse flash across his bloodied features before he grounded himself once more. He probably didn’t even believe her. Why would he? All he sees is a hideous beast that needs to slain. Not a broken-hearted mother mourning the loss of her darling children. No one has ever seen them for who they really are. Pity.

Her head hangs and she catches a glimpse of his shadow, his arms raising.

“I deserve this,” Alcina thinks to herself.

BANG!

Karl Heisenberg was sitting in his office, legs stretched atop his desk glazing over files. Pretending to work so no one would bother him. He was so lost in his own little fantasy land that the phone ringing next to him nearly started him out of his chair.

He let out a dramatic groan, knowing full well it was Alcina calling to continue their petty argument from earlier. A chuckle escaped his mouth remembering how he told her to drop dead before hanging up.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and begrudgingly brought the phone to his ear.

“Didn’t I tell you earlier to-“

“Heisenberg!” Mother Miranda’s voice spoke. The man nearly choked on air when he heard her voice.

“Miranda! Apologies, I thought it was Alcina calling me.”

Mother Miranda paused, but only for a moment. Her tone was as it always was; calm with a hint of disappointment. “That is what I am calling about, actually. Alcina failed to keep Mr. Winters under control and he escaped. I can only assume he is making his way over to you now.”

“Alcina and the girls, are they-“

“No longer assets we need to be concerned about. The Ceremony will continue on schedule with or without them, is that understood?”

He was completely floored. His beloved, pain in the ass, older sister is dead. And what of his adorable little gremlin nieces? They’re gone too? How can Miranda possibly expect him to just-“

“Is that understood, Heisenberg?”

He cleared his throat and nodded as if she could see him. “Of course, Miranda. The preparation will continue as-“

She hung up.

Heisenberg put the phone down and buried his head in his hands. He didn’t feel anything. Only numbness. The longer he sat there thinking about them the harder to became to think about the stupid ceremony. Or that human parasite on its way to him.

His anger got the best of him and he slammed his fists down on the desk. “To hell with Mother Miranda.”

He called one of his lackeys in and filled them in on the basics of the situation, warning him about Ethan mostly. Heisenberg was to depart for Castle Dimitrescu as soon as possible. Let the lycans have fun with their new incoming chew toy until his return.

The ride up to the castle was ghostly. He expected to hear the girls’ laughter as he entered the main doors as they always do when he visits. They were always happy to see their dear Uncle Heisenberg.

Cassandra’s ash pile was the first to be found. Simply because it was out in the open by the entrance leading down to the basement. It was obviously her because the smell of her lilac perfume was still infused in her ashes. He kneeled beside it and stroked it gently between his fingers, whispering apologies and words of comfort. Both for him and Cassandra. Then he took an old pendant necklace from his pocket and ever so gently, scooped some of her ashes into it.

“There you are, Cass. Safe and sound with me.”

On a hunch he decided to look around the basement before searching the rest of the castle for Bela and Daniela. He already knew where Alcina was resting. Bela was indeed laid in one of the extraction rooms of the basement. She collapsed behind a pillar as if she were trying to hide or shield herself. Heisenberg did the same thing and scooped up her ashes in his necklace, this time kissing the pads of his fingers and laying them on the ash pile.

Daniela was next. She was in the library, literally on the other side of the door. Heisenberg cursed himself for unintentionally spreading her ashes as he opened the door and nearly stepping on the poor girl. He stayed with her longer because of this, whispering a thousand apologies to her. The way she was laid down made Heisenberg think Daniela tried to escape and came really close to doing so.

A few tears streamed down his cheeks as she gathered her ashes in his pendant. That man will pay for what he’s done. For taking such innocent souls from the world that had so much more in store for them.

His beloved sister was last. She wasn’t where he thought she would be, which he found odd, but taking a closer look around it all made sense. The damn burst behind his eyes and he openly cried for the first time in decades.

“Fuck,” he sobbed, soothing his sister’s large heap of ashes. “I didn’t mean literally, Alcina.”

He grabbed a fist full of ash and clutched it to his chest. “I’m so sorry, sister. I should have helped you trapped that rat when he escaped me the first time. But I won’t let that happen again.”

Just like with the girls, he scooped up some of her ashes in the pendant. But this time instead of putting it back around his neck he gave it a few delicate shakes, mixing the four of them together as one.

“There. Now you’ll always be together; in this eternity and the next.”

He stayed there next to her for the rest of the night. They talked for hours (though it was a one-sided conversation) and watched the stars flicker into existence as the sunset. When there were enough of them out he pointed out the various constellations to her. The entire night went on like this; acting as if nothing had changed since they were children.

The sun was just starting to rise over the grassy green hills. Radiant shades of pink and gold colored the sky like never before. It was almost like looking at heaven itself. Early birds sang their song of the morning as they flew swiftly across the sky to wake the rest of the woodland creatures and the residents of the village.

Heisenberg exhaled a shaky breath. “I better be off, Sissy. Miranda will have my head if I don’t deal with that rat before the ceremony. But don’t you worry, I’ll take care of all four of you once this shitstorm has passed. You’ll be given proper burials and everyone will have a chance to say goodbye.”

He could feel the tears starting to build up again. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you or the girls. You’re a royal pain in my ass, but you’re still my big sister and I love you.”

The ride back to the factory was comforting. There was still a heavy weight on his shoulders, but he never expected it to go away. It will only go away after exacting his revenge. When he finds that man, oh boy is he in for a treat. The lycans should have done some damage to him already or at least exhausted him. Ethan is weak now. It’s time to strike back.

No one harms Karl Heisenberg’s family and gets away with it.

#Lady Dimitrescu #lady Alcina #tall vampire lady #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

#1 Victory Royale

✧ pairing: college student!spinner x student!afab!reader

✧ word count: 4.4k

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, light angst, mostly soft/fluff, smut, could be hate fucking if you squint, afab reader but no pronouns, this is pretty tame, by like my standards, I wrote this at work, not really a warning, but it felt like you needed to know that

✧ summary: relationships suck and Spinner is starting to think maybe he does too

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, welcome back to more college au bs from me. This is set in the same universe once again as all my other college pieces. A very sweet anon asked if we'd ever get to see more of Spinner, so here he is! Also with another cameo from shiggy's bitch (endearing) cause I can't help myself.

“Ughhhhhh….”

Spinner’s groaning echoed through the tiny apartment, the heavy sound of creaking couch cushions under his weight following.

“What?” his long-suffering roommate shouted out their bedroom door, rapidly shoving clothing and a toothbrush into an overnight bag.

“Uggghhhhhhh!”

He let out with another, louder dying animal wail. He’d been like this since they woke up—wallowing in some strange concoction of self pity and Red Bull on the kitchen floor when they walked in for water two hours ago.

“Motherfucker,” they mumbled, tossing their bag to the floor and marching, more than a little disgruntled, into the hall. “What do you want?”

Spinner was sitting upside down on the couch now, feet up against the wall tapestry and cotton candy hair splayed out on the floor. He stared blankly as his friend came into view—arms crossed, frowning at him from the end of the hall—and opened his mouth once more, letting out another garbled grunt that had one of the neighbors pounding twice on the wall to shut his dramatic ass up.

“Dude seriously, are you gonna tell me who pissed in your cereal or are you just gonna scream until the guys next door kick a hole through our wall?”

They almost felt bad as he looked away, sniffing and letting himself slump farther off the sofa until he was sprawled completely on the hardwood and staring, glassy eyed, up at the ceiling.

When he finally spoke a full sentence, his gaze was locked on the water stain above him from a year ago when the upstairs neighbors flooded their apartment trying to make jungle juice in the bathtub.

“I don’t know, I’m just in my feels as the kids say,” he sounded so dejected—strange for someone who was perpetually energized to a frustrating degree—that their shoulders immediately slumped from a hardass square to a softer, more sympathetic angle

They padded over to join him on the floor.

“Care to elaborate, oh roomie of mine?”

There was a pause and Spinner tapped his nails against the hardwood idly before responding.

“I guess I’m just feeling, like, fucking I don’t know,” he sighed, knocking his head against the dusty boards, “left out I guess? That’s not quite right, but it’s just Magne mentioned last time she came to The League meeting that Jin was seeing somebody and it just got me all introspective and weird…”

“Hm,” his roommate hummed thoughtfully and studied the way the textured white ceiling gave way to the rings of brown water damage, like a dead and dying flower, “I thought you and Jin weren’t ever that serious?”

“We weren’t,” Spinner groaned again and rubbed his eyes. “We went on like, one date a year ago and I haven’t thought about it really at all since then. I’m not sure why hearing he’s got someone else now made me so fucking...jealous I guess.”

“I mean, maybe you just never really gave yourself the time to process it?” they asked and received only an annoyed huff and accompanying groan. “Sorry, should have asked if you were looking for advice or just wanting to rant. My bad.”

“No, it’s fine. I think it’s just…”

Spinner trailed off and they shifted as the hard floor bit at their back and made it ache. The muscles were sore already as it was, and Tomura blowing their fucking back a few times a week wasn’t really helping. They’d created some kind of perpetually horny monster, but something told them cracking a joke about it wasn’t really going to help the situation much. Thankfully, Spinner found his way to filling the silence a minute later.

“I don’t think it has anything specifically to do with Jin. Yeah I liked him, we’re still really good friends and I don’t feel like I need him to be more than that. It’s just that—and this is gonna make me sound like a massive asshole—but with you and your new fucking boyfie and now even Jin finding someone to date I just keep seeing reminders everywhere of how motherfucking isolated I am.”

“Oh,” they felt their face burn a bit, guilt frothing as they were forced to acknowledge the fact that in all the time they’ve spent holed up with Tomura, Spinner had been discarded like an old Steam game, bought impulsively on sale and never played again. “I’m sorry I haven’t been prioritizing you—”

“No, no, no shut the fuck with that,” he waved his hand to cut them off and pushed himself up on his palms. “I know I’m not being fair about it, and I really am happy for you guys, but idk man….I just feel like I’m never gonna find that you know?”

Beside him, his roommate remained sprawled out on the floor like a homicide tape outline and was just as deadly quiet.

“I just,” he continued, running an angry hand through his hair, “I know I could be such a good partner. Like I’m funny and I’m not a fucking creep, which is actually a plus to most people.”

He shot a side glance down and they rolled their eyes, sitting up and knocking his shoulder roughly till he toppled back to the dirty floor and they stood above him.

“Fuck off,” they chuckled.

His roommate watched as the laughter seemed to infect him like a bad cold, creeping down the back of his throat and shaking in his chest.

“No I’m serious, I would be such a fucking great boyfriend. I give goddamn top quality cuddles and I actually know how to do laundry, what more does one need truly?”

“Damn bro, you’ve known how to fold your own clothes this whole time?”

The giggling spread into the quiet space, rocking through both their shoulders and leaving the air feeling light—fresh like the first nights of Spring. When it finally petered out into friendly silence, they were both far lighter.

“I just like the way you fold my t-shirts, the sleeves don’t get those weird creases when you do it,” he muttered and stood, doing his best to fix the wild pink locks that stood on end from his fidgeting.

“Yeah I’m sure,” his roommate rolled their eyes and turned back down the hall.

When they left for the night to stay over with their boyfriend, Spinner tried not to acknowledge the way he subconsciously glared at their back as they walked out the door, skipping yet another League meeting to swap spit with that guy from their English class.

He tried even harder not to think of how their bed would be warm and their legs would have legs to tangle with, their chest have a chest to lay against, while he heated up instant noodles in the microwave and fell asleep alone on their living room couch.

Not to mention that tonight was the big tournament with that new group on campus. He was really banking on his bff (best fucking friend as they were always sure to clarify) and him teaming up to crush those assholes from The Commission or whatever they called themselves.

Fucking lame as shit name in his opinion.

In any case, he’d have to settle for Magne again, and she was such a loose cannon they were sure to get their asses handed to them. She was a great fucking tank, he’d be the first to admit, but strategy was not a strong point of hers and they desperately needed that tonight.

He could feel the sinking weight of failure rolling in the pit of his stomach already even as he dragged himself into his room to tug on an old pair of jeans.

It bothered him way more than it should, the idea of losing some gaming tournament that, by all means held little to no actual significance.

Spinner knew the stock he’d started placing in games was growing to an unhealthy degree.

He knew that.

But self awareness rarely did anything to alleviate the irrational fear of failing at one of the only remaining consistencies in his life.

It stung worse when the tournament kicked off and by the third round, Spinner was the only remaining League member in the brackets.

“Fucking shit…” he muttered to himself, the small basement room alight with the blue glow of the monitor and the sound of frantically smashing controllers.

Behind him on the couch—stolen long ago from the theater building—Magne held him by the shoulders as he grit his teeth and leaned into the movement of his avatar on screen.

“You got this babe,” she shouted, cheek pressed up to his ear. “Make ‘em eat shit for me!”

“I would if you stopped distracting me,” Spinner hissed back.

Really it wasn’t Magne’s aggressive and somewhat bloodthirsty style of encouragement that shook his focus so badly.

It was his opponent.

The fucking president of The Commission sat, thighs spread and pressed to his, resting your weight on your elbows and snarling beside him in the couch.

Your face was split in this heart stopping grin as you quite deftly dodged all his attempts to get a hit in and managed to land a few of your own in the process.

And you looked really hot doing it.

Which was definitely just a side effect of the punch he (didn’t) drink and the body heat fueled temperature of the room—sweaty skin against sweaty skin making his mind wander against his will.

The shifting in his seat was absolutely just to illogically make him move faster and had nothing to do with how tight his pants now seemed.

So much for not being a fucking creep.

Your teammates were gathered in a circle behind you, enraptured and exuding the kind of smug confidence that said quite clearly The League was fucked from the second they walked in.

Not even two minutes later your hands were thrown up, punching the air and your team piling over the back of the couch to drown you in a sea of celebratory limbs.

Spinner felt himself deflating even as he was toppled off the couch by your screaming members and The League collectively cursed in the background.

Truthfully he’d known the chances of winning were slim.

Ever since his roommate started getting busy with classes and clubs that ‘looked good on their resume,’ The League had gone downhill rapidly. It was a problem since long before that Shigaraki guy swooped in and stole them away, but Spinner couldn’t stop himself from lowkey holding that against him.

The League had consumed so much of his life in college, functioning as a haven where he was finally respected and belonged to an extent he’d never experienced before.

The stink of failure and loss, not of the game but the only space he’d ever really occupied without complaint, burned his face and made the room feel more suffocating than usual.

Magne looked as though she wanted to give him one of her signature—and admittedly very comforting—hugs, but the deadly look of disappointment on Spinner’s face must have made her think twice.

The rest of his team seemed to read this sudden downward shift in the room as they began to filter out, climbing the steps onto street level and away from the suddenly stuffy, uncomfortable meeting spot. Normally everyone would stay and finish off the drinks snuck past the janitorial staff, eating Doritos until well past midnight. This time they couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

He couldn’t really blame them.

The multimedia building was a strange place after hours. Once Spinner might have called it something rare and liminal, now it felt more like a prison.

He stood, packing up the consoles a bit more roughly than necessary when someone cleared their throat behind him.

He turned to see you, standing alone with hands on your hips and scowling like you were the one who just got their gaming reputation ruined.

“Dude what the fuck was that?”

Spinner bristled at the knife sharp point of your tone.

“Really?” he asked incredulously. “You seriously waited around to rub your win in my face?”

You rolled your eyes and took a step closer around the couch. “I’m not talking about the fucking game dumbass. Why the hell are you pouting like I stole your fucking candy or some shit? You ruined the vibes man.”

“If anyone was ruining the vibes, it was you and your cocky ass team.”

Spinner felt himself stepping closer too, pulled in by the celestial weight that accompanied any kindling argument.

“Me?” you pointed to your chest and scoffed, “Wow, I was really hoping you’d actually possess a bit of emotional maturity, but if this is how you get after a loss I’m not shocked your fucking club is bleeding members.”

At some point the two of you had gravitated close enough that he felt the puff of your last breath on his cheeks. Two comets, ready and willing to collide.

“I’m not being the asshole in this situation, you know that right?” Spinner glared down his nose at you, heart pounding in his ears. “Maybe you shouldn’t make fucking unfounded assumptions about people you don’t know.”

“So then why are your panties in a twist over a fucking game?” you retorted.

He was peripherally aware that your eyes had taken on the same laser focused quality as they had during the last round. Determined and locked onto him without sparing a glance to anything else.

It was this same undivided attention that he’d envied in you as you played, and as Spinner felt it trained on him, his pants once again felt uncomfortably restrictive.

“It’s not about the fucking game okay!?” his voice came out hoarse and far more petulant than he’s been aiming for.

Though he quickly felt the embarrassment give rise to a secondary heat as you both breathed each other’s air and searched the face across from you.

“Then what is it about?”

That strange, unexplainable, inexplicable rush of potential filled the small gap that remained between your bodies—the kind of tension Spinner was beginning to think he’d never feel again.

He’d kissed plenty of people. Almost more than he’d like to admit, or that they’d like to admit more accurately.

But when his flickering eyes found your hard stare still and unwavering from his, it felt incredibly natural to lean in and press his lips against your fading frown.

It was slow going, the few centimeters that separated you seemed like miles as he moved slowly, never breaking eye contact until his mouth was finally slotted over yours and you weren’t pushing him away.

There was still a bit of lingering confusion, as this was decidedly not what either of you appeared to be expecting from the prior conversation. That coupled with the fact that Spinner wasn’t entirely sure he remembered your first name made the feeling of your tongue prodding at the seam of his lips all the more startling.

When he gasped, you slid your hands up his chest and licked into his mouth. Tongue tangling between breaths, Spinner felt himself getting lost in the familiar and coveted taste of another mouth, another body, another hand that grasped, that desired, that wanted him.

***

Your knees dug into the cushions on either side of Spinner’s thighs as you bounced in his lap. He fought to keep his eyes open against the pleasure of his cock sinking into you over and over again, so he could watch the way your head was thrown back and your chest heaved with the exertion.

He dug his hands into your hips and let his head hit the back of the couch, feet planted on the floor to help his hips thrust up into you, earning him some of the prettiest, stifled moans he’d ever heard.

Truthfully, he had not expected to fuck you. He figured you might be down to just make out for a bit until the cleaning staff came and booted you from the building, but both your pants had quite quickly and naturally found their way to the floor.

Neither of you spoke much, which he was thankful for. That would have been far too complicated of a conversation, especially considering you really didn’t know each other all that well.

Spinner usually liked to do a bit of ‘getting to know you’ type activities before he hooked up with people, which he did with surprising frequency for somebody so starved for a long term thing. Sex just fucking felt good and it was this eagerness that was his downfall. Most people he’d fucked around with seemed to read the urge to get into their pants as a diminished interest or emotional attraction and Spinner ended up with more friends with benefits than actual friends...or benefits.

Regardless, it was fine by him that the only form of communication passing between you for now were scattered groans of pleasure and the wet slap of your ass against his thighs.

He’d nearly forgotten how fucking amazing pussy felt.

For no particular reason, Spinner had always found himself fooling around with bodies more similar to his own. Not that he had any real preference, though the lack of experience often made him a bit nervous in the whole ‘pleasing your partner’ department, despite many helpful lessons from his roommate.

That was all to say that Spinner was incredibly thankful you reached down to guide his hand that had clumsily begun rubbing circles on your clit. That is until you simply knocked it away and went back to riding his dick like a fucking champ.

Then he did speak.

“Wanna make you cum,” he mumbled and really did sound like he was pouting this time.

You peered down at him, slowing your pace so you sat flush in his lap, grinding his cock deep against your walls. Spinner keened as you clenched around him, pussy so deliciously warm he felt himself near to drowning in the feel of you.

“Mm fuck,” you panted, leaning in to steal a few more messy kisses from him before lifting up and enveloping him in the slick heat all over again. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No,” he nipped at the column or your throat, careful not to leave any lasting marks just in case. “If I’m finishing, you’re fucking finishing.”

You pulled back and stared at him for a moment. He felt you purposefully tightening around him just so he would squirm under your curious gaze. After a moment you smirked and rolled your eyes again, taking his hand and guiding his fingers back to that little nub just above where his thick length was seated inside you.

Spinner was proud of his dick, it was hefty but not so long that it was a hassle to fit—just enough to reach all the important bits. He was sensitive as hell too most of the time, so just about any pressure felt amazing. But the best part of it was watching whoever he was fucking fall apart on his goddamn perfect cock.

So when you whispered, “Like this,” and showed him the rhythm and motion you liked, he pulled himself back from the brink to pay attention, speeding up until that look of cooled control slid right off your face.

“Ahh, yes fuck...” the words tumbled from you freely now. “Shit, yeah just like that—”

Spinner could get fucking drunk off the low groan that left you as he planted his feet more firmly and bucked his hips up. He must have hit something good by the way you choked and moaned boarding on too loud, though he had neither the heart nor self control to stop you.

“Feel good?” he grunted, picking up the pace and force he thrust into you, so that you had to loop your arms around his neck and hold tightly as he speared you on his cock.

“Fuck...yes..” you whimpered into his shoulder which did wonders for his ego.

Spinner kept up his rubbing frantic patterns on your clit and feeling the gradual constriction of your walls around him—the coil growing tight and ready to snap. He nudged your cheek with his until you pulled back a bit to face him.

“I want to see you,” he murmured, sucking your tongue into his mouth for a moment and tearing himself away so he could watch as you came undone around him.

You gave him a strange, soft look and pressed your forehead to his, eyes zoned in on only him.

The rest of the room, the whole fucking basement and campus melted away under that stare.

Your nipples peaked through your shirt, brushing against his as you were jostled into him by the movement of your hips. As you reached your peak, words devolved into increasingly breathy gasps. It took Spinner an incredible amount of concentration not to fucking paint your insides then and there.

Your pussy was so goddamn tight and warm and milking him just right, it was a fucking impressive feat to remain staunchly at the edge of his peak as your mouth fell open and your fingernails scratched at his back when you finally came—the telltale spasms around his cock and the near sobs coming from you more than enough indication.

He lost himself well and truly then.

Lost in the false sense of intimacy that came with being allowed to see you fall apart, this person he barely knew yet made him feel immensely important in that moment. Your breath and spit was in his mouth, the smell and feel of you soaking his length pushed him beyond the realm of conscious thought.

There was only a deep and burning need to be closer to you. So, so much closer.

His hands moved of their own accord, hooking under your thighs and flipping your bodies so your back hit the cushions and he hovered above you. The angle allowed him to slide deeper, pulling out and thrusting his hips in fast, hard strokes that hurtled him towards release.

Spinner couldn’t keep himself quite now either, panting and moaning and gasping unashamedly with his eyes screwed shut as you took his cock so unbelievably well.

It wasn’t until your hands, softer than he’d imagined, cupped his jaw and pulled him down to meet you that he was brought back down from whatever higher plane of existence his impending orgasm whisked him too.

Your lips weren’t nearly as frantic as the rocking of his thighs, the slap of his balls against your ass. The sweetness was an odd but welcome contrast.

“I’m gonna—fucking mm...” he tried so hard to get his tongue to form the words but he could feel himself slipping further as you started clamping around his length again.

“I know,” you breathed against his lips, faces pressed together and unmoving eyes steady on his own. “Ahh, inside if you want.”

He did want.

Oh fuck did he want nothing more in that moment to stay sunk in your warmth and pump you so full, but the last few remaining logical braincells reminded him that was not a great idea. Not without a more in-depth conversation neither of you was in a state to have.

“Shouldn’t...” he groaned and moved to pull out but your ankles locked around his ass and forced him back down.

“It’s okay,” you huffed and rocked into him, squeezing around the sensitive head of his dick just once, just right and that did him in.

It was something in the way you looked at him, so that he could feel nothing but secure—nothing but safe wrapped up in you. Something about the way you pressed him closer, in the movement of your thumb on his cheek.

It scratched some deep seated, lonely itch in Spinner.

Made it feel like this meant a hell of a lot more than it probably did.

In seconds he was blowing his fucking load right into you, milking himself in your heat until he was spent and overstimulated. You were kind enough to pull him to you, turning your bodies so you laid side by side on the coach, his softening cock slipping from you in a gush of release.

For a minute or so, neither of you spoke, just stared, long and comfortable at the stranger you’d just fucked on the gaming club couch.

Well.

Fucked wasn’t really the word he’d use at that point to describe what you’d just done, but anything more than that felt presumptuous.

You broke the silence as he nuzzled into your palm.

“You really needed that didn’t you?”

Spinner couldn’t help the familiar, infectious laugh that rattled in his chest. He liked the smile it earned him, far more genuine than any others you’d worn that night.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

You hummed, nodding in response. “Mm, me too.”

And somehow, for no real logical reason, Spinner knew you understood. That you felt the same isolation, the same starvation for love, for holding weight in someone else’s world.

That the games were just a placeholder, a way to fill the space, to get lost in other lives, in other stories where he did matter. Where his actions had foreseeable and measurable worth. That’s why it hurt to lose. Not for the glory, but for the destruction of the only remaining diversion from how empty his reality felt.

Even if it wasn’t really.

Even if there were friends and benefits and friends who offered both. His roommate could let him rest his head in their lap on movie nights or sleep in his bed on occasion when the heat went out and he got cold too quickly. But none of that quite filled the hole like you now, holding his face and knowing the struggle without him having to explain it.

Nothing like you pulling him in and kissing him too familiarly for someone he’d only known a day.

Magne used to say something about shit like this. Something like how people bond in train cars when there’s a rat eating a slice of pizza and you all watch it happen. Some weird camaraderie forged in the shared experience of life being a little fucking freaky a lot of the time.

That was how it felt when you slipped your leg between his and brushed your lips together again. Content to lay, half naked in the media building basement, making out with some guy you beat at Smash and fucked right after.

Reveling in the brief but meaningful feeling of mattering in some small, strange way to someone else.

Of holding weight.

Of being held.

#spinner x reader #shuichi iguchi x reader #spinner x y/n #spinner x you #college au #mha angst #student!reader

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blueeyedheizer · 3 years

Text

together - warren worthington III

REQUEST: "reader has a super strength/metal skeleton mutation because she was in the lab as Wolverine, then she and Warren get close at the school because they both have terrible pasts and they get together and help each other through and become known as some of the best X-men and they’re so good because they love each other so much..."

WARNINGS: mentions of violence

A/N: had to take some liberties with the request because I don't have enough X-Men knowledge to give it proper justice. I honestly don't really like how this came out and the horrible headache I currently have doesn't help, but I tried my best!

•••

When you first joined Charles Xaviers' school for mutants you were at your lowest point, the concept of happiness was something you never thought you'd ever be familiar with.

The day your parents found out about your mutation, they immediately kicked you out of the house. Well, your father did. When you left home, you mother was crying and pleading for your dad to be understanding, saying that it wasn't that bad and that it could've been a worst mutation. You could easily pass as a regular human being. But the man saw things differently. You were a monster, no longer worth of a roof to live under, no longer worth of love and protection. You hugged your mom goodbye and left without a word, knowing it was better not to start a fight.

You wandered in the streets for a little while, using your savings to buy yourself the minimum you needed to survive.

That was until you were caught and put in a cage to fight against Warren Worthington III. He was far stronger than you were and although you had no broken bones by the end of the fight, you were left with deep bruises all over your body.

You weren't made for fighting. Your mutation was nothing but strengthened bones, there was nothing special about it. You had never been trained to use it to your advantage, so you really weren't stronger than the average when it came to fighting. You just happened to have extremely strong bones. If anything, the burden was even more exhausting.

A few days following the events, when he was himself in search of a shelter, Warren found you almost dead on a poor excuse of a mattress, tears soaking your cheeks as you barely managed to breathe. Your limbs were barely responding, you felt like your body was weighing ten times its weight and your metal bones weren't helping. To say you were absolutely terrified when you saw him would be an understatement. He had showed no mercy during the fight, so when he tried to pick you up, you used the last of your strength to kick him as hard as you could, which earned you a string of curses from him. He was close to giving up on you, but your cries and whines of pain forced him to walk back to you when he was about to step out the door and disappear from your life forever.

The two of you stayed hidden in that small abandoned basement for a few months until Kurt eventually found you. You were in a better shape, but you were far from being completely recovered, especially not mentally. But although Warren hated the idea of having to share a place to live with someone (and he was constantly being a pain in the ass about it), he always made the effort to go out and look for food for the both of you and always made sure you were safe. You owed him everything.

And just like that, you were both under Charles Xavier's protection. Surprisingly, you and Warren parted ways as soon as you joined the School. You quickly fit in with everyone and had a close group of friends meanwhile Warren insisted on staying alone. He had his own dorm and never ate breakfast with everyone else. A few people had tried to approach him, but he wouldn't let anyone get close. You were dying to see him and talk to him again, but you weren't sure if the feeling was mutual.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Jean asks, picking into her plate before bringing the fork to her mouth.

"What?"

"Warren. You're thinking about him. Have you tried talking to him?" she repeats and you shrug.

"I tried the first couple of days."

"Why don't you try again? I'm sure he'd be happy to see you again."

"I don't know. He wasn't really fond of sharing a place to live, so I doubt he misses me so much." you chuckle.

"But you miss him."

"Yeah. Kind of." you chuckled while nodding before looking over your shoulder, discreetly looking at Warren. "He's a good guy, you know." you admit. "He doesn't give off the best vibes when you don't know him, but he's got a big heart."

Jean's pep talk about how you should try and get in touch with him again made you realize how much you actually missed him. So that night, you decided to sneak out of your dorm and pay him a visit.

Taking a deep breath you raised your hand, letting it hover over the door for a moment. Deciding that it was too late to change your mind you eventually let your hand hit the wooden surface, giving it three knocks.

No answer.

You tried again, more firmly this time.

"Piss off."

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice. It'd been so long. You tried to suppress a smile as you came to the conclusion that he really hadn't changed since the last time you spoke. He really wasn't interested in having company.

"It's me, Warren." you tried, leaning your ear against the door to hear better, but all you heard after that was silence.

Defeated, you were ready to retire back to your room until you were stopped by the sound of the door unlocking and cracking open slowly.

"What do you want?"

You took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"I miss you, Warren. We haven't spoken in what feels like an eternity and I just miss it. Our conversations, everything. I know you probably don't feel the same way but our late night talks meant a lot to me, and I just want to know how you're doing or at least—"

"Come in." he interrupted you.

That night, the two of you stayed up until 4 in the morning, just catching up and getting to know each other more than you already did. He didn't want to admit it, but Warren had missed you deeply as well.

You came back the day after, and sneaking into each other's dorm at night eventually became a routine for the two of you.

Your friends had noticed how close you had become, and you even often stayed with Warren instead of going out with them. One night, he told you all about his scars and how he got them, and you did the same with yours. You told him all about your family, how they kicked you out after finding out about your mutation, and the conversation ended with you crying on his shoulder and him promising to never let anyone or anything hurt you again.

The two of you became inseparable, always hanging out together, training together and always supporting each other during the hardest times. When you struggled to find a purpose to your mutation and started saying hurtful things about yourself, Warren was always there to remind you that it made you special, that you are one of the strongest people he knows and that you'd eventually learn to use your mutation, which you did.

Two years later, you've been sent on multiple missions together and everyone knows you as two of the school's most powerful mutants. Everyone admires you and the bond you have between one another. The newest mutants look up to you, and you're both more than happy to help when they need training.

The healing from the fear, hurt and rejection that you both went through takes time, but as long as you have each other, you know that everything will be okay.

→ feedbacks are more than welcome. Whether it's just a keyboard smash, an emoji or a single world, it's always appreciated and motivating. ♡

#blueeyedben #warren x reader #warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington iii imagine #warren worthington x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine

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