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tarjapearce · 21 hours

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Bad Teachings (Pt. 19)

Older! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: ANGST ✨. Father daughter dynamics, relationship dynamics, canon character death, mentions of disease, grieving, reclusive behaviors, character study, no proofread, emotional distress.

Summary: Miguel's biggest failure as a father and geneticist.

A/N: Forgive me in advance, but my intention from now on in this fic is to make you cry ✨

Chapter's song:

There were many things that Miguel O'Hara regretted.

Not taking that extra cup of roasted coffee in the morning, taking the wrong turn in the street to head up straight for traffic, meeting that woman in that scientific symposium. Having a relationship with her and...

His baby cried in his strong arms. And it was his cue to feed her.

But this precious bundle of joy certainly didn't belong into that group of negatives. Her lovely strands of hair perched ontop of her tiny head, curious eyes staring at him, like if discovering who that loving voice she heard outside her mama's womb was.

It was love at first sight. Pure adoration a father could deliver to his new child. Her smell, her big brown eyes alike his, the soft cinnamon in her skin, her rich chocolate strands, everything about Gabriella was an absolute gift.

Gabriella O'Hara. The new owner of his heart and the best twenty eight birthday present someone had ever given him.

Her whole hand grabbed one of his fingers and it was enough to put him under her spell. His baby, his purpose and raison d'être of all his efforts, laid in his arms, curiously sleepy, and watching him. Making sure he had all the attention drawn to her with a single look.

Soon enough, time passed, morphing days into weeks and weeks into months, and each month his baby only grew prettier, more adorable and oh so sweet for him. Gabriella's mom was way too happy to not be that involved into the dynamics as she was too busy dealing with the baby blues and changes that kept coming and gave the couple no rest.

Hospital bills, house bills, broken car, pediatrician bills pilling up in the back of the counter, new projects ahead to supervise, the possible threat of being transferred to another unit in the Alchemax hierarchy and the already rocky and feeble relationship breaking even further.

Miguel was a gentleman enough to understand her condition and ease the apparent burden she always kept bringing into the sparse conversations they had, that somehow ended up in heated arguments. And he always made sure for her to understand that Gabriella was no burden. That being her father was an absolute pleasure, he could try and get her to also learn.

But her stubborn heart and mind did not accept nor wanted that. Things were bad as they were and trying to prove her otherwise only depleted his energies as usual, efforts he always preferred to waste on his baby. His Solecito.

Her laugh dissipated those grey and ominous clouds, made out of tension and harsh responsibilities over his head to go away, brightening his skies with endless laughs and hours of fun. Her love healed him.

Gabriella was that motor his life needed. The final push his mere existence craved ever since he got his priorities set.

And now that she was here to stay, there was nothing like loving her.

Miguel loved her scrunched up nose upon him feeding her something she thought smelled funky. Loved her happy wails when seeing him, adored her kicking feet when she was excited and the drooly kisses her baby always gave him before sleep. And adored beyond everything else, the smile she welcomed him with, whenever he came from work.

But he loved even more her smartness on little difficulties he purposely left her to solve. The scientist in him soared and thrived whenever his Solecito completed a puzzle perfectly, or mumbled syllables to stimulate her speak.

His baby was everything. Gabriella was the reason he kept up with her mother's antics. Sadly, the husband material on him wasn't as developed as his father skills.

He was stunted in matters of love, yet he didn't expect the woman's sudden decision to pack up her things and leaving him for someone that actually had time for her.

But in truth, the whole 'You didn't take care of me' excuse was just a ruse to cover her cheating, with a younger man that gave everything she craved and Miguel couldn't give her, as he was way too focused on Gabriella and her raising. It had been going on for a year and he recently had found out, in his thirty year old birthday.

To her surprise, her absence changed little to nothing in the already established dynamics between Miguel and Gabriella. Although the man had somehow gained the sympathies of the group, his reasoning somehow expected the blow.

Gabi's mother had grown quiet and reserved, she always grew silent whenever he got into the same room if she was speaking through her phone, and even though maternity leave had been great, her efforts for connecting with Gabriella had grown little to none.

Her role as a single father had been long assumed even before things grew evidently sour. Yet, for Miguel it was odd.

A good part of him was relieved to not carry the emotional toll since, love wasn't a thing used to describe the relationship. Sure, he had gotten the fellow scientist pregnant and was happy, but he didn't see her as anything else as the mother of his child. Love had taken a permanent vacation from their lives as soon as the pregnancy showed up.

Was it wrong of him to think that way? To see her as nothing but a true burden? Would the people he confided in be horrified to know that he was glad the woman had finally gathered up all the courage, to leave him and his daughter alone?

She wasn't precisely bad to Gabi, but didn't make an actual effort into engaging with her own baby's healthy development. The woman fed her when she was hungry, looked after her but merely out of obligation. But that only meant he could love her twice as much.

Love, food and fun was something Gabriella had at all times. Miguel made sure to be there, recording and creating all those memories that always gave him enough strength to keep going when life turned particularly picky and overwhelmed him.

He didn't trust nannies, except Peter and his back then girlfriend MJ. So he looked up into daycares that met all the requirements he needed to work without a hitch.

Things slowly fell into place, and it became Papa and Gabi against the world.

Many women tried their best to get him for themselves but none truly succeeded. None gave him that good click that he needed in order to let a stranger into his life and risk everything he had so diligently worked on. He wouldn't risk Gabi's uncomfortableness for a slip on selfish possibilities.

He had her already. Gabi didn't need anyone else. Neither did he. Until Tempest made honor to her name and waltzed in, shamelessly into their lives.

How dared she make him feel something? How dared that woman with crazy and odd hair make him fall for her? But oh how dared she making Gabriella love her too?

It all started in one of the few times that Miguel arrived late to pick up Gabi. Traffic always proved to be difficult, but that day was extremely hard to go by.

He found Gabriella giggling and drawing with a pink haired woman, dressed up in her cleaning uniform at school. Leisurely laying on the floor, painting one of the coloring books Gabriella always carried in her backpack.

His little girl wasn't for smiles to anyone, as he always instructed her to be careful with strangers, but the sweet smile in her was undeniable. It was natural, not forced or uncomfortable. Gabriella was having fun with this pretty stranger.

Then, the woman started greeting Gabi whenever she saw her as Miguel dropped her off. His Solecito would run to her, hug her and go to class to nurture her mind. And if he was late to pick her up, Miguel would find them both painting yet another coloring book or reading.

Gabi trusted her. He soon learned.

And he also learned how to give in, and let his guard down. Without realizing, he bad been refusing other women to avoid them hurting his beloved child again like her mother did. His heart still splintered in pain upon remembering the many times Gabriella fell asleep with tears in her eyes asking for her mama.

How could he explain to a three year old that her mother did not want her? That she had left them for good?

But this woman before him, challenged all those filters he had come up with in order to avoid the same heartache in his baby once again. His heart could bear it, but he wasn't putting Gabi's in the line.

Yet, the icy walls around his heart melted, once he found her with Gabi in her arms, cooing her to sleep as she cried.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have the heart to let her cry." Said Tempest in between hushed whispers as she gave Gabi back to Miguel.

His eyes engraved every single little detail of her. Specially on the way Tempest's fingers curled underneath Gabi's thighs to tighten her grip and avoid her falling, or the way her tanned hand rubbed in gentle circles on her little back.

Next thing he knew was him asking the woman for a date, only for her to refuse him. He knew the right to do was to leave her alone, but something inside him and Gabriella asking for her, told him to not give up on her.

---

He didn't. And now a hundred of dates and dinners later, and a year of officially dating, Tempest was living with them in their new place.

The pink haired woman had helped Gabi to paint a giant G on her door, to mark it as part of her room, Tempest also helped her to set up the bed, her space and little vanity for her to play makeup, decorating it with all the ideas she had childishly drawn and explained.

Her vivid imagination always put a smile on her Papa and new Mom. Gabriella loved calling her that since her name came out as a butchered jumble of words. So she settled for Mom.

And Tempest lived up to that name. Always making sure she was properly fed, clean and having her needs met, her homework done. She took Gabi shopping, pampered her, loved her like a mother should.

And his baby thrived in her love. Couldn't it be more perfect?

He proposed. And she accepted with the condition that she'll decide the wedding day. She wanted to enjoy him and his daughter first. Make the best out of it.

And what better way to support her new family than being attuned with what they enjoyed the most?

Tempest had learned the ways Miguel worked so whenever he was too overwhelmed, she'd help him out. She also learned how much Gabriella enjoyed playing soccer, so she got her a new pair of cleats and cheered on and recorded every game she assisted.

Anyone that looked their way would assume she was Gabriella's mother, and before Tempest say otherwise, Miguel always reaffirmed her position. She was Gabi's mom and neither of the O'Hara's would have it any other way.

The return home from that game proved a dream come true. Gabriella won her first game, there were cupcakes and then pizza. Sadly, the elevator in The building was up for repair. Gabi complained about her feet hurting and naturally, Miguel picked her up.

Long fun days would make his feet hurt as well.

He couldn't help but feel a little tinge of concern on the sudden complaint. Gabriella wasn't one for aches, but Tempest's reassuring words always kept him grounded. Anchored to reality with her kind words.

"Of course she'd be sore after playing the whole day, Miggy. She's growing up and almost five!"

Even if his future wife reassured him, his intuition screamed louder. Something within told him to prepare, to always be vigilant as usual. The father in him hoped her pain to go away, even if mild. Pain wasn't something he'd put in Gabriella's bag of feelings on purpose. Because as much as he wanted to protect her from the world, he couldn't do that completely. Some things were simply unavoidable and he wasn't a hero with superpowers.

He did his best, cause what else could he do but that?

"Miggy" Tempest called as she cupped his cheeks, making his gaze to lock on her. Tenderness, compassion and understanding were something he always saw in them. One of the many reasons he adored her. Her own way to say everything was alright.

----

But he knew. He knew those pains weren't normal. He knew the sudden clumsiness taking over Gabriella wasn't normal, her walking on her tiptoes, having troubles for walking up the stairs or even simple tasks as sitting weren't normal at all.

Something in his intuition had tried to warn him, screamed even that something was wrong. That something dern had taken over his five year old baby and he had ignored it.

Not deliberately, but he had ignored it and now he was rushing towards the doctor with her in arms.

Seeing his baby fall and cry in pain as she tried to get up was one of the most painful sights he, as a parent could witness. His heart broke into a million shards when Gabi called for him, scared, confused and pained.

His heart turned into dust upon finding her on the grass, hands curled and legs so rigid, he thought she'd break.

As carefully as he could, Miguel picked up her daughter, breath hitching at every whimper and little cry she exhaled.

"It's okay, Solecito. Papa's here okay?"

But he wasn't okay. This wasn't okay. And the diagnose had to be a mistake.

He wasn't sick. Maybe fucked up in the head as Conchata once told him, but definitely not sick. Not like this.

Duchene Muscular Dystrophy. How on earth did that defective gene reached his family? The data and the many tests done in Gabriella did not lie.

Tempest wasn't Gabi's biological mom, yet...

His heart once again gave such a doleful and angry quiver as soon as that woman came into mind.

How could not he realize sooner? How could he not realize that woman was the defective one? That she was the carrier of such fatal ailment, and had polluted the best thing he had done in his life?

Damn him and his lust. Damn him and his solitude that forced him to seek a companion to mitigate it's effects on his brain. And damn him for not paying attention to the subtle early signs Gabriella showed.

"Daddy?" His baby clung to him, confused as the doctor kept speaking and spilling medical jargon, her eyes watched him with concern, her small hands felt him tremble, despite the stoic facade he was doing his best to not break. His Adam's apple bobbed countless of times.

"It's alright, mi Sol. Don't worry ok?"

If he should've been more vigilant, this could've been avoided. Right?

His hands tightened, loosened, raked over his head, tried to pull some hairs away to see if he could match Gabriella's pain. Yet the doctor's words were little comfort. None of them offered a true solution, just little patches that did their best to cover a monster looming and following now, like a shadow, his little girl.

"We can delay the progress with corticosteroids. Some physical therapy and regular exercises."

The need to take the MD by his crisp white collar and shake him to try and make him understand that his daughter couldn't lead a normal life without feeling pain grew by thousand. Or was he the one unable to swallow that horrid pill?

How could he tell Gabriella that she was sick and she'll get worse overtime and there was no cure? How could he shatter that innocent hope that invested itself with the job of keeping him now afloat? He had to be strong, for her. Even if in his insides he was on his knees, begging and crying to however above to not let his baby go. To not take her away from him.

Tempest, bless her. She asked what they could do, what would happen next and what was the best course of action they could take, her questions were powerful, but her voice was anything but. It came out nervous and shaky. She didn't have to be a super genius to understand how bad it was. Her own journey through rare diseases had been anything but easy, yet she was the perfect pillar to hold a crumbling Miguel.

The doctor's response was the same.

That night, there wasn't the usual raucous and silly meal prepping they had for a ritual, rather solemn and hopeless faces, awash of fear and uncertainty. It didn't set right into Gabi's heart, but part of her little brain, told her to not push, since both of her parents looked at the verge of tears every time they looked her way.

Her Papa looked at her like he had done something bad, and wanted to apologize. And it confused her even more when Miguel held her in her arms like she'd slip away.

"Dad?"

And his throat only tightened even more if possible.

"I won't let you go, mi Sol."

She chuckled at the sillines of his words.

"But you have to, Papa. How am I gonna go to school? or My games then?"

His eyes turned bleary, but he couldn't break before her. The last thing his Solecito needed was another thing to worry about.

"You're right" his sob disguised as a chuckle, "I love you so much, princesita. You know that, right?"

Gabi nodded and stared at his face, wiping his eyes.

"Why are you sad, Papa?"

"I'm not, muñequita, just... grown up things that have me thinking. But I'm alright."

And they did have him thinking, he had sent a letter to every medical research facility he knew, waiting for a response. Waiting for a hopeful breakthrough that could lead him towards a clue on how to improve the medicines and slow even more the progress of the ailment.

In the meantime he could make Gabi's life as comfortable as possible even if that meant an extra effort. Even if that meant long and pricey bills from the hospital in his mailbox every month.

Money was a price he was willing to pay. Miguel would do everything in his power to make his daughter feel as normal as she could again. Even if that meant to be extra hours in the lab, sleepless nights by looking for the best treatments, even if he had to sell his old house to pay for the research.

He used Alchemax's resources to try and figure out a way to delay or stop the monster completely. Sure, the medicines Gabriella took helped her, and so did the physical therapy. Ironically, the five year old girl adored her therapy and the exercises done in them.

But the overachiever inside him had no rest. The perfectionist in his brain remained alert most of the time, even if his body begged him for a sleep.

Tempest had also her fair share of responsibilities, her job, her therapy schedules with Gabriella and her school assignments whenever she wasn't able to go due the intense pains that sometimes took over her legs.

Although the illness advanced slower and the symptoms were milder in females, that didn't mean it was equally devastating.

Gabriella could still go to school, play some bits before the pain started acting up, and neither did Miguel or Tempest or Gabriel, showed her pity. They all made sure to make her comfortable as possible.

Whenever Tempest was too busy with work, Miguel would ask for Gabriel to take his niece to the physical therapy sessions, and after every game, Miguel massaged her feet and sore little limbs to ease her discomfort. But even so, His Solecito never stopped smiling. Never stopped feeding him the hope she'd surpass the twenty five year life expectancy. That she would end up burying him.

They all put strong and brave faces in front of Gabi, but behind closed doors and away from her worried gaze, everything would crumble.

"She is doing fine, Miggy. We are doing our best and she is too."

"It's not enough. I..." He sighed, feeling his chest constricting in such a tight grip his voice came out broken, "I'm losing her, Tempest."

"You are not." Her gentle arms held him from behind as her chin rested ontop of his shoulder, "Remember what doctor said? It advances slower on girls. And who knows, we can go against all odds with it. We're doing a good job."

"If I could... I would find anything to cure her. Anything."

Tempest's heart bled and broke at her beloved's words. How she wished that thing had a cure, because seeing Miguel growing restless, more irritable and volatile before her very eyes, was everything but easy.

Was everything but good. His main focus was Gabriella, and that's something she understood to a perfect T. She had decided for the wedding to be next time Gabriella won another soccer match, but that rare disease attacked and took everyone by surprise. Ambushing the happiness and hope with the gut wrenching news.

Crushing all positive expectance to see her as the ring or flower maiden.

"We're trying, Miggy. Giving our best."

"It's. Not. Enough." He nearly hissed and it was the first crack that peeked over the relationship. Tempest could only sigh and watch him. If she could take it all those burdens from him, she undoubtedly would.

This new Miguel kept making longer appearances into their quivering home.

He barely slept, he barely ate, always in the dining room, figuring out ways to improve the medicines Gabriella received. Always holed up with his girl, telling her stories and spending time with her.

Tempest missed his gentle voice, his caresses in the morning to wake her up, the soft kisses in her cheeks when leaving the apartment and his pet names.

Hearing her own name in his lips made her spine crawl in something unpleasant. Gabriella was his sun and Tempest his moon. But now, none of those stars shone for him. If anything, their shining was dulling with each passing month.

-----

"Miguel," Tempest called, but he only had eyes for his laptop.

His fiancée exhaled and took her bag, ready to pick up Gabriella from yet another session.

"I... I was thinking in a dinner."

His face turned her way, unbelievably annoyed, as if making sure to have heard right.

"To celebrate she's gone through that crisis. We could go to her hospital room and eat there-"

"She needs to rest, not us bothering her right now."

"Please? Miggy?"

"No. Tempest.-"

"I havent seen her in almost two months Miguel! Gabriella is my child too! It's not fair for you to keep her all to yourself!"

" I'm trying to save her life!" His yell didn't make her recoil, but only added more dry bones to the resentment fire that had been slowly simmering between the both.

Unavoidable as it was, his reclusion and lack of communication had put a great strain between both. His need of control had ruined the remnants and traces of all that sweetness they had once shared. He didn't allow her to prepare her medicines, too scared she'd give less than the right dose.

Bit by bit she had been excluded from all those activities she engaged with in hopes to see her more as the illness had just advanced in an alarming rate, bringing with it new unwanted companions. Like cardiomyopathy and lung diseases.

It had been only a couple of weeks Gabi's heart had a crisis, tearing the little communication between both beyond repair. The golden bang in her ring had grown to suffocate her.

"You can only do so much for her, Miguel. That company with that CRISPR Program scammed you. Those people you trusted turned their back on you! But I'm here! I'm still here!. For nearly four years! I've been here!" Her chest rose erratically, violent with contained anger.

"Isn't that enough for you?! We've been struggling with this ever since it started, and I haven't left you or Gabriella!"

"This is not about us anymore, Tempest! My daughter-"

"Our daughter, mind you. I didn't give birth to her, true, and I fucking wish I did! But I've been taking care of that sweet child like it came from me, and it's not fair you don't allow me to see her!"

"It's not that." He seethed feeling the anger and anxiety rising up, the urge to hide in his shame growing exponentially tenfold once again.

"Then what is it?!"

"I don't want you to see her like that!" Miguel's voice broke, unable to hold the pain, frustration and tears. They had grown too big within him that looked for a way to escape.

"I'm a fucking failure, Tempest." He whimpered, broken, "All this fucking knowledge, my job, everything I've worked for is shit! Is useless! Like me, I... I thought that program would help her, would cure her..."

Tempest swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

"I don't want you to see her full of... needles and tubes. I don't..." His voice hung by a thread as fat tears rolled down his weary face, paving a path for the upcoming tears.

"Don't ask me to see her, please. You wouldn't... you couldn't stand it. I can't, but I have to-"

"You don't have to do this alone, Miguel. You don't."

"You think I don't wanna go and have a simple meal with her instead of pumping her body with-" he sobbed, "With so many vitamins that have her arms bruised cause the fucking nurses can't find her veins? No."

He sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve, "Or see the terror in her eyes whenever those fucking needles are close to her? My little girl is terrified of needles, Tempest. She's so scared of the doctors, she begs me to... let her come home. She fucking misses you too!"

Tempest cried along with him, unable to hold back anymore. The optimism leaving her body in a go, leaving her bare, powerless to keep up her serene upfront any longer. The news had devastated her completely, but she needed to be strong, for Gabi and Miguel. But now, all those cracks had caved in, exposing the raw pain that had them fighting for almost two years against something they were fool enough to believe they had a chance against.

" You think I don't wanna take her home and play with her?! But now I'm fucking lucky if she's conscious, lucid and yet... I'm losing her." His shoulders slumped and Tempest held him.

His trembling hands anchored to her, shaking and sobbing on her shoulder," I don't want to lose her, Tempest."

The words barely a whisper and half a sob. The man before her wept like a child, and held her as if she was the only thing that would prevent him from breaking even further. His emotions laid bare to her, and she didn't judge. Just held him and kept him together.

Until she was unable to.

----

"Princesita..." Miguel called but naturally, she wouldn't respond, too sedated to even open her eyes. But it didn't stop him from talking to her, even if the only reply was the constant beeping from the machine she was wired to. Reading her living signs.

"I... I know you can hear me, Solecito." He hoped with a faltering smile, "It's you and me against the world remember?"

Miguel gulped when the movement in her chest fell. The oxygen mask fogged in her mouth.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to see Mom, princesa, but I couldn't... let her see you like this."

Even if she ended up hating me and left.

His bottom lip quivered, and he trapped it in between his teeth to keep his voice steady, biting hard enough to make the pain recede for a bit.

"Do you remember when we got those cupcakes to celebrate?" He sniffed and removed the few strands off her sweet face. Although pale, his baby girl remained beautiful to his eyes.

"I've seen a new place I think you might like. They have these... macaroons and stuff you told me once you'd like to eat."

His hand reached for hers and held her with all the care he could muster as the other one wiped his tears.

The cream colored walls of the room made his mind to grow restless. At times, the room he had been into so many times felt like a prison. Like the extension of an asylum that required his presence on a daily basis.

Sometimes that room would be filled with laughter, other times, with his silent cries. The latter had been quite the acquaintance after the crisis that nearly made him rip his own heart and offer it to his baby.

His mind was often divided in preparing to see her like this, full of needles that fed her the enough nutrients as she was too tired and pained to eat for herself. And the other part still refused to imagine a life without her, even in perils of losing her at any moment.

Miguel had used his sick days to be at the hospital for the past weeks. Peter had taken over in some times, forcing him to rest as much as his berated mind allowed him to; visiting and hoping his presence left a smile on his new found niece. Gabi always received him with an effusive 'Uncle Peter!".

Effusiveness that slowly vanished overtime, as the illness advanced throughly. Leaving her with nothing but weakened and laborious smiles.

"You're the best thing I've done in my life, mi Sol." His mouth had the strength to mumble. "And... I wished I'd done better."

The beeping kept steady. Showing the vitals intermittently.

"You're such a wonderful girl, and..." He had to pause and let another quivering breath go before picking himself up again and speak. "I'm proud you chose me as your dad. I love you so much, Gabriella."

The never ending and monotone beep echoed in the walls. His eyes turned, unbelieving at the machine. His breath caught in his throat. Unable to swallow, unable to breath.

No.

How it dared to stop? How that machine dared to stop.

His heart hammered with such strength in his ribcage that he let out a whimper as eyes were full of tears again. Lots and lots of them that escaped without his permission as panic slowly spreaded through his senses.

"Gabriella?" He innocently called, trying to fool his brain into believing it was a simple malfunctioning, machines were defective after all.

But the alarm echoing sent a cold crawl to his spine. So cold he winced.

"You'll be fine, Mi Sol," He sobbed and panted, not willing to let her hand go, as he pushed the emergency button.

"C'mon!" He roared in between pained yelps. His baby girl, escaped through his fingers, and all he could do was to hold her against his chest, weeping and begging her to come back.

"Don't leave me too, please, I beg you. Don't leave me alone. I'll be better!"

He should've gone for the medical degree instead of genetics so he wouldn't have to rely on people. He should've had taken more time out from work, those shortcuts to come home faster and be with her.

"I promise to be a better dad, please open your eyes!"

He should've paid more attention to her complains of discomfort, he should've been better, he should've...

A flurry of doctors arrived, and pulled him out the room, nearly calling security as he refused to abandon again Gabriella's side. He screamed and begged for her, begged her to wake up, to look at him, but his world kept crumbling and all he could do was watch.

Everytime he left the hospital, he made sure to let her know how loved, amazing and a good daughter she was. Because part of him believed it was the last time he'd see her awake and alive. To still have something he could come back to.

But now, none of that mattered. As his baby was no more.

-----

"Miguel?" You called as your hands fiddled with the earrings.

The gala night had finally arrived, finally reached that peak in your agendas. Your hands stopped as soon as you watched him, sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped with his face in his hands.

"Amor?" Your voice called and he sighed, defeated but functional enough to do his tie, although the annoying piece of fabric constricted his neck, it kept him grounded.

"Hm?" He mumbled to then put his polished shoes on.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just gimme a minute and we'll get going."

He didn't face you, but how could he?

His face was smeared with tears and showing weakness before you, wasn't an option. You didn't need your night ruined by his antics.

He'd find time to let his pain away later.

"Alright."

Despite your apparent calm, the concern had been gnawing your mind.

Like the weather, Miguel had turned colder, a bit more distant, he kept the spark alive, but something within told you it was off. He was off.

His pet names didn't sound as loving as they used to. At first you thought it was due the short three months you had now been living together, wading between you both.

Responsibilities were always a staple in your daily lives, leaving few room for you to connect beyond making love at two am and a couple of sweet words.

And this... gloominess had settled as soon as the coldest months settled in. The usual long after work talks were resumed into sparse conversations here and there before he poured in his work all over again.

And when you brought it up, his replies were always a

"This project is keeping me busy, mi niña. That's all."

But again, you didn't want to turn yourself in another stress factor. But you cared, and cared deeply. More than you should and allowed yourself to admit.

You wanted him to rely on you, like he did with you. You wanted to see him happy, cause you missed his smile. Missed his jerk-ish and loving self that got slowly replaced with this silent, cold and serious copy of the man you mumbled back a También te quiero every time he mumbled it after he emptied inside you and kissed you.

But those kisses felt strange. Like they were on automatic, like if they were given by someone else.

"You know you can-"

"I know." He cut in and put on his suit, "Go get your things, we shall leave soon."

And still, he refused to meet your eyes, too focused on tying his shoes and getting overall ready.

Your hands curled in, tightening in small fist to then breathe and leave.

His hands stopped, hearing your defeated steps echoing the hallway.

Fuck

Pushing you away wasn't something he did on purpose. In fact, it came to him like muscle memory. Yet it didn't mean he enjoyed as it only meant one thing.

It was happening again. His self destructive and sabotaging behavior had made a triumphal return to his life.

And this time, he welcomed it like an old friend.

-----

@miss-canon-event @amylasagna @rositabluemoon @lyrasdrawer @plumplum2099 @damhanallagorm @chibiiichann @incustellar @taeecups @vonev @kinkybandages @del-ightfulling @tatatida @queenofroses22 @orangemango7 @migueloharastruelove @ctizu1 @vyxvi

@yeyrpp2 @zaddyskye69 @gejo333 @bigbassbug @namjooningera @d1lf-loverr

@tsukkie-daisuke @brittney69 @emisprocrastinating @ednaaa-04 @cxmeiloorun7 @juneonhoth @sylveon-of-hearts

@maomaimao @m4dyy @miguelbaby @mrs-oharaxx @spiderpapi2099 @ryk-mt

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #bad teachings #miguel ohara angst #Spotify

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nhl-stories · 6 months

Text

midnight love – Anthony Beauvillier

Summary: Hannah was ready to accept her fate as second choice, but a newcomer just entered the picture

Author’s Note: Oh my god I've been working through this for so long and then bam that trade happens. And changed how I was going to end this so I'm a bit distraught.

Word Count: 3.9k

Album Series Masterlist

I can't be your midnight love When your silver is my gold

She wishes she had enough of a backbone to disappoint people, if only in self-preservation. But no, instead Hannah is spending another night as a stand in.

It’s not like these people aren’t her friends, but there’s a hierarchy; they’re Brock’s friends and teammates first, then Cora’s friends and fellow significant others, then at the bottom of the list is Hannah.

At least it’s just a team dinner, not some event where she has to explain over and over again that no, she is not Brock’s girlfriend, just a friend. Usually throw in a joke about taking advantage of an open bar or nice dinner.

His real girlfriend is prettier and more talented, just busy with her emergency medicine residency. Hannah is just a placeholder so he doesn’t have to go somewhere alone.

Don’t worry, Brock isn’t slumming it with the plain-looking girl who works in a fish market.

He’s with Cora: head cheerleader and prom queen in high school, first in her class in college and med school, Miss British Columbia who probably would have been Miss Canada if she wasn’t too busy studying to be a fucking doctor.

Hannah’s only a little bitter.

To be fair, she did it to herself. She spent her whole life as Cora’s less-than-impressive sidekick, she should have seen it coming.

Hannah should have thought twice before introducing Cora to Brock, should have known Cora would charm him and ask him out before Hannah could even tell her how she felt about him. And then it was a year and a half of worming her way into Brock’s heart down the drain.

Brock and Cora are good match. They look like a Barbie and Ken set and then they’re personable and kind on top of it.

Still, Brock can’t seem to take Hannah off a pedestal. It’s a little lower than Cora’s, but a pedestal nonetheless. Maybe if she jumps off, it will put her out of her misery.

“You’re Brock’s girlfriend? The doctor?”

Hannah’s head snaps up from stabbing the cherry in her drink, to see a new face. Anthony Beauvillier, her brain supplies.

“Oh no, just a friend filling in,” she bites back her initial reaction of a barking laugh, “You’re Anthony, welcome to Vancouver.”

“Thanks, so just a friend, what’s your name?”

“Oh, right, Hannah.”

“Hannah since you’re here and not a significant other, I can assume you know all the dirt.”

Hannah blushes under his gaze. His eyes are so blue she can’t seem to keep direct eye contact. So, they keep drifting to his hair, she hadn’t realized he had such soft looking locks since she mostly had seen him on TV with a helmet.

“I guess, what do you want to know?”

She tries to be coy; she definitely knows more than most. She’s so present but so unassuming she guesses she must be easy to open up to.

“Is it really a big deal that Petey brought around a girl?”

“There hasn’t been a lot of exciting off-ice news this season. But I’ve known him for almost 4 years and I’ve barely seen him flirt with a girl, so to bring a girlfriend is kind of big deal. Although between you and me I think he’s been hung up on her for a while.”

Anthony nods.

“The only thing before this was Quinn broke up with his girlfriend from back home and then just started showing up with a new girlfriend like a month later. But Samantha has been accepted into the fold so it’s not really gossip anymore.”

“You really do know the low down.”

“I can’t give you much on-ice info, but off-ice dynamics, I’m your woman.”

He gives her a crooked smile and starts to say something, when a hand grabs her elbow a bit too tight.

“Dinner is starting, I got us seats,” Brock tugs her towards the table that’s filling up.

“Nice talking to you Anthony,” she gently pulls her arm out of Brocks grip.

“Yeah, let’s do it again sometime.”

∫∫∫

“You smell like fish,” Cora says as Hannah sits down next her in the stands.

She pulls up her collar and gives it a sniff, she doesn’t smell anything, “I changed before I came here.”

“I think it’s just embedded itself into your skin at this point.”

“You smelled like a barn when we met and I still became your friend, even though everyone said you smelled like horse butt.”

“Well, the tables have turned and now you’re the stinky friend.”

“Fuck off,” Hannah laughs and flips her friend off.

Cora reaches in her purse for a tiny spray bottle of perfume, “I got you covered my fishy friend,” she gives her a spritz.

“Did I miss anything interesting?”

“I just got here, like 10 minutes before you. Had a last-minute surgery.”

“So, we were both working with guts before we came.”

“Yeah, and hopefully after this, number six will be rearranging my guts.”

Hannah laughs, but it’s hollow. They’ve been together long enough it shouldn’t still sting, but somehow it does.

Thankfully, there’s a big hit on the ice to shift their focus.

“The new guy is pretty cute,” Cora says when play settles.

“Anthony?”

“Yeah, you met him at that dinner thing, right?”

The tone in Cora’s voice makes it clear that she knows something Hannah doesn’t. That she’s toying with her food.

“Mm-hmm, he seems nice.”

“Brock said he was flirting with you. He was all worked up about it too, like ‘this new guy comes in and just charms the first girl he sees, what if Hannah was my girlfriend?’”

Hannah forces herself to focus on the puck traveling down the ice. She can’t look at Cora, let her see something she might jump on

The puck is blown dead, icing, and Hannah tries to keep her face blank when she turns, “He was just trying to meet the group and be friendly.”

“That’s what I tried to tell him. Why would he be trying to flirt with you?”

Hannah bites her tongue, she knows Cora means why would he be flirting with someone at a team dinner, when most women there would be taken. It doesn’t mean it’s any less hurtful. Like Cora isn’t digging her finger into the soft flesh of her biggest insecurities.

“Brock’s just protective of what’s his,” Cora adds like that’s not another sharp jab.

A wave of nausea rolls over Hannah.

The boys win by one in a mostly winless season, which is good reason to go out and celebrate. Hannah is wrangled into one of Cora’s dresses, and doused in her perfume, and dragged to a club.

One out of three of those things is Hannah’s choice.

“You smell nice,” Brock leans over to whisper in her ear, reaching across her body to steal a gulp from her drink.

Her body involuntarily flushes, like it always does when Brock casually invades her space. So completely unaware of the effect he has on her.

“I smell like your girlfriend,” she hates the way her voice wavers.

“Where is she anyway?” He stares out into the crowd, arm casually thrown over Hannah’s shoulder.

“Dancing with some of the girlfriends,” she waves in the direction the group went.

“Not like you to not join in,” he gives her a smile that used to be reserved for her only.

“It’s been a long day,” she shrugs, “which reminds me, Cora said certain things that mean if I want a good night’s sleep, bring her back to your place.”

“So, I’m scoring off the ice too?”

Hannah gags, “second star on and off the ice.”

Brock laughs and gives her gentle shove.

“I’m gonna get a drink, need a refill?”

Hannah gives him a thumbs up.

She watches him walk towards the bar and Cora appear out of thin air to wrap herself around him. Hannah knows she’ll be waiting on that drink forever.

“Looked like you could use a refill,” a solid wall of warmth slides up next to her, a drink placed in front of her.

She should have been expecting it to be Anthony, but she’s surprised. A warm feeling rolling over her thinking about how Brock thought he was flirting.

“Thanks, Brock’s useless,” she holds up the glass in cheers and takes a sip.

Over the rim of the glass, she catches two blondes sucking face, having their foreplay in front of everyone.

“Do you want to get out of here?” She blurts without thinking of the implication, maybe not caring.

Anthony gapes at her forwardness before Hannah’s brain catches up, “Like to a quieter bar?”

“Sure.”

Hannah takes him to a dive bar, where they drink crappy beer in tall boys and play darts. She’s too dressed up for the location but it doesn’t matter, they only have eyes for each other.

“You worked on a crabbing boat?” Anthony asks incredulously.

The alcohol is already having her run hot, but the focus from Anthony- or Tito or Beau as he said people call him- feels like a direct sunray. She’s the listener not the talker. Yet, there’s something disarming about Anthony, makes her walls fall away, makes her want to talk as much as she listens.

“Yeah, it was a quick way to make a lot of money in a few months, and it was exciting. There aren’t a lot of crabs the past few years so I haven’t had a chance to go back. And I’m not very smart so I have limited options.”

“You’re talking to a hockey player, I’m also not very smart and have limited options.”

“That’s probably explains why Brock and I became such good friends, although he did go to some college,” she grins and throws her last dart.

Anthony doesn’t make a move to start his turn, “so you and Brock were never–“ he cuts himself off with a throw.

“More than friends?” Hannah supplies.

“Yeah,” Anthony visibly tinges pink even in the darkened bar.

Hannah can’t quite vocalize her answer, worried the timbre of her voice will give away all the thoughts and feelings she’s been hiding. She shakes her head instead.

“If Brock was being weird, I think he was just vetting you. As a teammate and if you were worth my affections or something. Not that you were actually flirting with me.”

“I was,” Anthony looks her straight on, no doubt on his face or in his voice.

Something snaps inside Hannah, bursting red-hot in her veins. She’s not going to sit back and wait this time; she’s going to lean into what she’s feeling and grab it tight.

She drags Anthony towards to the back of the bar, pushing him into the bathroom and pushing him against the door once inside. She feels a little depraved, but she drives through the feeling and kisses Anthony.

He’s quick to kiss back, tongue slipping past her lips, gentling her erratic movements. He grabs her hips gently, but firm. He’s a wave of cold water crashing into her molten lava body. Nature in symbiosis.

“I don’t normally do this,” she says between kisses.

He moves his hands up to her waist, he doesn’t stop kissing her, just moves down her jaw closer to her ear, “and this is what you want?”

He sinks in his teeth into the hinge of her jaw, she gasps.

“I want–“ her voice is shaky.

She doesn’t know how to say it or ask for it. She just wants the light of his attention, on her, his whole-hearted focus directed at only her, like no one else exists.

“Cause I want more than a bathroom hookup, but I’ll take what I can get,” she can feel his smile against her skin.

There’s a bang on the door then someone yells, “You don’t have to go, but you can’t stay here!”

It’s like being dunked in the ice-cold Pacific.

She gives him one more peck, “Another time?”

∫∫∫

They find themselves in another bathroom, this time in Demko’s house while the team has a party. Hannah on the counter and Anthony in a vice grip between her knees.

“Sorry, couldn’t wait until after the party.”

Hannah can’t hold back her smile. Hasn’t been for almost two weeks now. They hadn’t seen each other again, but had been texting. If Cora asks, she says it’s Brock being stupid. If Brock asks, she says it’s Cora being dramatic.

“I like it,” digging her fingers into his hair, it’s as soft as it looks.

“But we can’t take too long,” she adds, though she doesn’t kiss like someone with an exit plan.

“I’ll take my time tonight,” he whispers against her lips.

Voices drift closer to the door when they finally decide to peel apart. Hannah fixes where she mussed his hair as best she can, before peeking to see if the coast is clear.

She makes her way through the kitchen to casually grab a drink and slides up next to Cora and her conversation with the other better halves.

She’s trying to ease herself into the conversation but her mind is elsewhere. In the future and whatever tonight is going to be and in the present glancing over to see Anthony trying to do the same.

Cora elbows her before leaning in, “Classic hot mess Hannah.”

“What?”

“Your very dumb, signature move,” Cora grins, “you forgot to wipe your lipstick off his mouth before you reintegrated back into society.”

Hannah tries to casually glance back at Anthony, he looks towards her at the same time and grins. His lips a shade too pink to be natural. Hannah mimes wiping her lips with the back of her hand, hoping he’ll get the message.

“You dirty girl, I’d recognize that nude berry on any boy’s lips, which honestly let me find you a new color, you’ve been using that for like a decade now.”

Hannah tries to smile through her worry, but Cora knows her well enough to see through it.

“I’m very proud of you for getting him while the getting’s hot, but if you’re worried about me telling Brocky babe or something, don’t worry, secret’s safe with me,” she zips her lips and throws the key over her shoulder.

The giddy nerves in her stomach start fighting the anxious nerves in her stomach.

A heavy arm drapes over Hannah’s shoulder, “There you are, Cora said she saw you but I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

That’s the thing, Hannah trusts Cora to keep a secret, she doesn’t quite trust herself.

“Almost feels like you’ve been hiding from me,” Brock laughs at the thought.

Cora joins in and gives Hannah a desperate look to join in as well, Hannah can feel her own laugh is too erratic, but Brock doesn’t seem phased.

“Babe, she’s allowed to have her own life, she’s not just our personal third wheel,” Cora pulls him into her own side.

“Technically Cora, you’re the third wheel to our friendship,” he grins and gives her a peck.

Hannah feels nauseous.

“Oh honey, you’re the third wheel to Hannah and I’s friendship, it’s been around the longest.”

They’re not even acting like Hannah is involved in this conversation, she takes the opportunity to duck out. She grabs another a drink and goes out to the unused balcony. It’s still too cold to hang out there at night, the air is the kind of wet-cold that you can feel in every breath.

“How long have you been in love with Brock?”

Hannah jumps at his voice, barely managing to keep a hold on her bottle of beer.

“I’m not really in love with him anymore,” there’s no use in lying if she’s that transparent.

“Is that why this all secretive?”

Anthony’s eyes are so big, endless blue that Hannah isn’t sure how to read. She wants to learn.

She has reasons lined up: she doesn’t want to effect team chemistry, doesn’t want to ruin her friendships if this goes south, doesn’t want to fall in love with another hockey player.

But all those reasons are logical and rational. And this is emotional in a way she’s not sure she can find room for in her body.

“It’s nice to have something that’s just mine,” she furrows her brow, feels like it’s not quite what she means.

“I’m not the smartest or the prettiest or the most anything, I’m just Hannah. But you act like that’s enough. I’m not just a consolation prize or silver you’re settling for because you can’t have gold.”

Anthony doesn’t say anything for a long time, Hannah feels like maybe they froze outside.

Then he takes a step forward, cupping her face with hands so warm they burn her cheeks. He kisses her slowly; Hannah doesn’t think anyone has ever kissed her like this. Like she’s something precious, worth savoring.

He pulls away and smirks, “I’ve kind of been wishing for silver my whole life.”

“Jesus Christ, is that a Stanley Cup joke?” her smile grows so big it swallows her face.

“Like I’ve said I’m not that smart or that clever either.”

Hannah just has to kiss that stupid smile off his face, not caring who can see them through the windows.

∫∫∫

Brock is pissed.

He acts like everyone doesn’t know what it’s about. Like they don’t notice the glares he sends Beau when he walks into the locker room or how his knuckles go white around a beer bottle when he sees Hannah dance with Anthony at club.

They all let him sulk for a week, without saying anything.

Teammates start to chirp him when it lasts longer.

It comes to a head when Brock goes to a team event alone and brings his mood home to Cora.

“You’re not even his ex or something,” Cora is pretending to be the slowest customer of all time at the fish counter while she complains.

Hannah sort of wishes it was a rush so she could usher her friend away, she’s so over dealing with Brock. The jealousy that she would have killed for a few months ago is starting to become overkill and Hannah kind find it in her to be bothered.

It’s funny that the first time she’s all Brock can think about, is also the first time she doesn’t give a shit about it.

“He’s never had to share you with someone else and now I’m like invisible or something.”

That make Hannah pause.

In all the years she’s known Cora she’s the never been self-conscious, never had a reason to be.

She has to bite back the spiteful smile, it’s nice to be reminded that Cora is a mere mortal too.

“I’ll talk to him, can’t have you feeling lesser than me.”

Cora scoffs, “Hey, don’t talk about my best friend like that.”

Hannah rolls her eyes.

“I’m serious bitch, I don’t know why it took so long for it to get through your head, but I’m glad someone finally makes you feel on top of the world.”

The next night Hannah and Anthony are at Brock’s door.

He opens the door and almost shuts it in their face, but Hannah catches the door with her foot and shoves Anthony through the door.

“It’s an ambush babe,” Cora squeezes Brock shoulders, trying to make him unclench an iota.

“I come bearing the traditional British Columbian peace offering, a fillet of fish,” she nobly holds out the wrapped package in her arms.

Brock almost cracks smile.

“Brocky babe, why don’t you help her prep the fish and I will fix Beau here a drink.”

Hannah drags him into the kitchen before he can argue or pout.

She doesn’t really need prep; she knows her way around the kitchen already and the recipe like the back of her hand.

She pulls out a knife and points it at Brock.

“I’ll let you be upset for the time it takes me to cook this fish, and then you’re going to snap out of it.”

She gets to work, “You love Cora, you love that she loves hiking and boating and your dogs. You love that she’s as passionate about her job as you are. You love that she moved the fucking earth to make your dad passing as easy as possible for you.”

Brock’s face is set in stone.

“So why the fuck are you so bent out of shape about me dating someone, to the point where your perfect girlfriend is jealous of me?”

“Of all the people in the world you had to go for one of my teammates? What if something happens and I can’t even think of passing to him or it makes things weird with my teammates.” Brock snaps.

“Cause you’re doing a great job of that right now, Petey says he’s worried you’ll throw a punch soon.”

“Were you just using me until you could land the right hockey player?”

“Not everything I do is about you Brock. Sorry I let you think that for so long.”

She throws some of the fish in the hot pan, it sizzles like her nerves.

“I’m sorry it happened this way, it’s the last thing I would purposely try to do. But can’t you tell how happy he makes me?”

She feels her tears start to fall, hot and heavy. They’ve been locked and loaded for years.

“You didn’t want me when we met all those years ago, and that hurt. And then you fell for my best friend like instantly, and that hurt worse. You don’t want me that way, so you don’t get to be mad that someone else does.”

Brock looks like he might cry, too.

“I love being your best friend. I love your dumb jokes and you’re stupid fucking laugh. But I can find that somewhere else if you can’t accept this.”

Brock squeezes her tight, she can feel his tears on the crown of her head.

“I want what’s best for you,” he pulls away, “sorry I have a dumb way of showing it, is there any way I can make it up to you?”

“Pay my rent when you ask Cora to move in?”

Brock lets out one of his stupid fucking laughs, “maybe by next season you’ll also have a new place to live.”

Hannah shoves him away and plates the last of the fish, “the instant acceptance is appreciated, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

She goes to the dining room where the others are waiting with bated breath, pretending like they weren’t eavesdroping on the whole conversation.

“Hope you guys are ready for some tear-brined salmon for this very emotional and awkward double date.”

Anthony takes her hand when she sits down, she can’t help but kiss him. She likes the view off her pedestal.

#anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier fic #anthony beavillier imagines #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks fics #not ready to tag anything else #brock boeser #brock boeser fics #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fics #hockey fic #hockey

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darknesseddiem · 3 months

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Small(Big) Problems

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: "Can you do one for some of the small boob giries please? Where reader is insecure of their small chest but Eddie reassures them xx."

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Self-deprecation, derogatory jokes, low self-esteem, Eddie being a sweetheart and comforting Reader.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.830k.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @birdysaturne @wdsara48 @ali-r3n

You like my work? Support me with a small 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢.

To all the girls who have ever felt insufficient or worthless, know that you are amazing and that you deserve the world, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

The Hawkins High cafeteria resounded with the clinking of cutlery and trays carrying the students' lunches, the tables entirely occupied by friends chatting animatedly about the frivolities of their unspecial lives.

Each person's place was designated according to a social “hierarchy”, just like in the animal kingdom where the lion was the king of the jungle.

The lions would be the basketball team, the ‘Tigers’. Ironic, isn't it? Logically, the cheerleaders would be the lionesses, responsible for maintaining balance among the pack, or not.

And so followed the hierarchy imposed at Hawkins High: Basketball team and cheerleaders, popular people, party lovers, intellectuals, readers, scientists, musicians, theater kids, alternative people, the shy and reclusive, the dregs of society and… The weird nerds, better known as 'the Hellfire Club'.

At the last table, far from everyone else, was your people, Eddie Munson's pupils who were arguing vehemently about something that you hadn't been able to decipher yet.

“Dude, you don't understand!” Gareth exclaimed frantically, running his hand over his face, “Please, someone kill me…” Jeff replied in a whisper with his head thrown back.

You looked between the two in confusion as you went to your reserved seat- on Eddie's left side, and carefully placed your tray with the food. "What is happening?" Curiosity got the best of you and you whispered, leaning into the boy next to you. “I have no idea, they’ve been at it for almost half an hour.” The curly-haired boy whispered back.

“How come you can’t decide which one is prettier between the two?” Jeff rolled his eyes at his friend, “I can’t because they’re both practically the same!” He countered loudly.

Gareth made a sound as if he had heard the greatest atrocity a human being could utter. “Man…” He said with his jaw dropped, “You are truly blind, without a doubt.” The blonde shook his head. “Oh yeah? Tell me something that’s different about the two.” Everyone at the table was enjoying the two's discussion.

A mischievous smile began to appear on Emerson's face. “That's easy,” He crossed his arms over his chest, “Pamela Anderson's titties are much bigger than Heather Locklear's.” And with that, a commotion was generated at the table.

“Eww!”

“Jesus, we have a lady sitting here Gareth!” Dustin pointed and everyone at the table stared at you.

"And…?" He shrugged. “How do you think she’ll feel hearing you talk about… Um, another woman’s parts like you’re a pervert?” The smaller boy scolded.

"Hey!" The blonde haired boy fumed, "It's not my fault she's flat as a door and feels insecure around other girls' breasts." He slapped his hand over his mouth when he realized what he had just said.

Your face fell in shock and embarrassment, hot tears threatening to form as everyone at the table looked equally shocked at Gareth.

Feeling humiliated enough, you got up from your chair and headed towards the cafe's exit without looking back.

“Man, you really are an asshole.” Grant said disappointed in his friend.

Eddie, who was watching the discussion unfold, now looked at Gareth with a dark look, getting up from his place at the head of the table, Emerson barely had time to react when he was hit with a tray of food and something wet. "What the-"

“Be thankful it’s just food and not a chair,” The older boy said seriously and followed you.

Eddie found you in the drama room where they were playing D&D, “Princess?” The chair next to you was occupied by him. “Hey, I hope you’re not like this because of that scumbag.” He caressed your damp cheek.

“He’s not wrong, Eds… I-” You were silenced by a finger on your lips.

“Ah, ah, I won’t even listen.” His dark curls shook as he shook his head. “Gareth is an idiot who hasn’t left puberty yet.” You both laughed, “But you… You are more than a body, you know that right?” You denied, overwhelmed by the emotions that his sentence brought you.

“You know now, you are an incredible girl with so many qualities… It’s almost ridiculous that you reduce yourself to a body, when you have so much to offer.” His brown eyes looked at you with intensity and sincerity, “I think you’re beautiful, and I’m not just talking about physical beauty.” The smile on your face was huge.

“What I want to say, Princess, is that you are much more than this standard imposed by the patriarchy, you are worth more than that…” He looked down with flushed cheeks.

You jumped into his arms and hugged him like there was no tomorrow, “Thank you, Eds.” You thanked him with a trembling voice and felt him tighten his arms around your waist, returning the hug.

People can be mean, and sometimes you have to remember: You are more than a body.

#darknesseddiemfics #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddiemunson #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #bestfriend!eddie munson #older!eddie munson

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stayandot8 · 2 days

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Whispers In The Dark

Genre: college au, not all members mentioned

Relationship type: strangers to friends

Important Contents: Mr. Popular Chris Bang can't remember who he was before school. But with her? Maybe he might find a path that would lead him back to himself. But how far can he go before the rumors and his reputation become too much for her to ignore?

WC: 6.4k

masterlist

He was notorious. For what, no one could agree on, but he was well known around campus. Some would say it was his skill in bed, others would say his charms would keep him from any kind of trouble with anyone, professors and other students alike. His easy grace with people, especially strangers, made him the perfect showman for the school. He was at all the major events. It was like the head office paid him to be there, cheering when appropriate and constantly surrounded by his fraternity brothers. It was rare that he was caught without at least one of them within three feet of his personal space. It was also a well known fact that there was a roster kept hidden in the depths of his mind of those he hung around with in public, in private, and those he tossed to his brothers. It was like a hierarchy. All the girls knew where they stood with him and used that information against each other when they needed to.

Chris Bang, appropriately named, was the top man on campus. When he approached you, you couldn’t help but say hello. And if he struck up a conversation with you, it felt like catching up with an old friend. He always wanted to know how you were doing, how your classes were going, and he was genuinely interested in the answer. He asked about your family, your friends, anything that would spark up a conversation with you. And by the time he found something that you had in common, you were hooked. The way he listened to you made you feel like he was your best friend and for those minutes, he was.

He cared about people, truly. No one could act like that around people if they didn’t care about them. He was warm and inviting, like a hug when you really needed it or a warm shower after a day out in the snow. His gaze was that of a toasty fire, you could curl up in one or both with a book and live there forever.

He was across the courtyard, surrounded by his usual entourage of fraternity brothers in their lettered sweatshirts and crewnecks. Each one had a girl next to them, talking emphatically with their heads held high. The Chosen Ones for the day, week and each somehow prettier than the last. They all seemed so engrossed with one another that no one dared interrupt their conversations.

“Hey! If you stare any harder, you’ll burn a hole in their heads. And those poor girls can’t afford for anything to fall out more than it already has.” Charlie’s words clanged around in my head until they landed and I burst out laughing.

“That’s so mean.” I shook my head at her, still smiling from laughter.

“Ask me if I care. Now come here and help me with this paper. I paid for your breakfast this morning for this.” I scooted closer to her laptop on the blanket she had spread out hours ago on the Great Lawn. She moved her coffee cup so I could sit where she desired and turned her laptop to face me. “How can I make this point more clear?” I glanced at the words on her screen, reading, until an obnoxious eruption of laughter interrupted my train of thought. I whipped my head back over to the cluster seated at the tables and traded my earlier look of curiosity to one of annoyance. Unluckily, or maybe luckily, this caught the attention of one of them. Chris made eye contact and nodded in my direction with that easy smile of his. I rolled my eyes large enough for him to see and turned back to Charlie.

“Well, I think you have to stop using so many descriptor words. It’s confusing to read and I can’t tell what you’re actually trying to say. It seems like you’re saying you believe that Chekov’s plays had clear and concise endings when they really didn’t.”

“I’m getting him and Tolstoy confused again.” She hit the ground with her hands balled into fists. “Which one wrote The Living Corpse?”

A voice appeared in front of our blanket.

“That’s Tolstoy.” Chris Bang himself appeared as if from nowhere, black backpack strapped on and hands in his pockets. His hat was backwards, the casual gesture fitting for the jeans and black t-shirt he sported. He was rarely spotted wearing something different, it was his signature look of sorts along with his shining eyes and curious questions.

“Yeah, that’s him.” I pulled my eyes from Chris to look at Charlie, who in turn was staring at me with a really weird look on her face.

“Thanks, Chris. Have you done this essay yet? I swear the longer I’m in Schwartz’s class, the more I hate my life.”

“I did, I just finished it actually. Took me longer than normal because of the word count requirement.”

“I know, it’s like he wants to kill us.” I snorted and picked up her textbook to flip to the page she would need. I look back up to find Chris’s eyes back on me.

“Are you in this class too? I don’t remember seeing you in there.”

“Oh no, I took his class last year. I’ve already been through that torture. Aced the class somehow.”

“That’s why she’s here, to make sure that my torture is just as bad as hers.” Charlie glared at me from the corner of her eye, making Chris laugh.

“Damn, you’re lucky. You’ve got someone to help you. I’m out here struggling to maintain my C.”

“Well, you’re welcome to join our suffering, Chris. I’m dying over this paper and she’s laughing at me.” Charlie shot me a confident smirk, seeming to have picked up on something that I absolutely was not putting down. I furrowed my brows at her, the thought never crossing my mind about inviting him to share our blanket or the day’s exceptional weather with campus’ Mr. Popular. But there my best friend was, offering him a place in our little circle.

“I would, but I’ve got an economics class to get to. But here, when you get a chance to come back out here to study, shoot me a text and I’ll come right over.” He stooped to rip a piece of paper out of a nearby notebook and a pen. He jotted something down and handed it straight to me, locking eyes with me as he handed it over. He paused, his face frozen in a soft smile and everything around us froze along with it. The wind stopped blowing, I paid no mind to Charlie, who I would find in a second was gaping at Chris, and I felt the spark that everyone felt when interacting with Chris Bang. The butterflies came in with a strong gust of chilly October air that unfroze the moment we were stuck in. He found his voice then. “Give me a call sometime.” he said softly.

“Yeah. For sure.” I whispered back against the rustle of the trees. Chris Bang winked at me and then he was gone. The piece of notebook paper was the only physical proof I had that he had been there and it sat in my hand until Charlie practically dove to reach for it.

“Did you just get Chris Bang’s number?” She opened it and showed it to me. The series of numbers wasn’t the only thing on it. They were accompanied by a short message in his very un-boyish handwriting. ‘Call me :)’ “You have to call him later today. And don’t you dare do it without me.”

“Call him and say what? That I’m happy to be on his list of girls? Or to put me down for the newest girl to be conquered? Girl, please. I’m not Rome, I am not to be ‘conquered’.” I nodded with certainty, resolute in my mindset. Charlie just watched me, smirking and pulling her mouth to one side.

“Yeah. For sure.” She mimicked my earlier words to him. Shaking her head at me and laughing no doubt to herself, she returned to her laptop and started typing. I couldn;t tell her that while I fully believed every word I had just said, that didn’t mean that the butterflies had gone right away. They stayed there, fluttering in the space he created. It hurt that I could feel how badly they wanted to be let out.

I stared at the number on the piece of paper for the next few hours, going back and forth on whether I wanted to act on his invitation. Who knew the weight of a scrap piece of paper was so heavy? On the one hand, he seemed nice enough with no outright bad intentions other than to study. Whether he needed the extra study time or not wasn’t up to me, nor was I in the mood to find out right this second. But on the other hand, was this just a way to find a new girl? Yes, he was selective when it came to who he was interested in and his level of interest was measured by how long he pursued you. Making him wait was the way to maintain his interest. At least, that was what outside speculation had agreed on with further research and trial-and-error. To those he wasn’t interested in, he was always polite about it, but that left room for them to conduct these experiments. And the results were inconclusive. He didn’t have a type, it seemed random at times, and all of the girls seemed physically different. Only one conclusion could be officially drawn: he liked girls. That was it.

Word that he had given out his number to his newest attempt hadn’t seemed to get around yet since I didn’t have girls eyeing me up and down all day. I was relieved since I hadn’t decided if I was going to use it yet, which was what I was debating now sitting in the shared room I had. My roommate, Rihannon (yes, like the song), was out, as she normally was. Ever the social butterfly, she joined a sorority the moment she stepped on campus and hadn’t sat down since. She was always going out with her sisters, going to mixers with the different fraternities on campus, or making new friends on a blanket of her own on the Great Lawn. All of these things were a perfect fit for her because she, like Chris, had the magnetic pull with people. They wanted to know her. And she wanted to know them too. She was nice, a friend until the very end, making her the perfect fit for the social scene. But her social expertise did me no good if she wasn’t here.

So I was left to my own devices. Charlie hounded me until I ran away to catch the bus to get home.

“You better text him tonight! I want to see him at our spot by noon tomorrow if he can! And you better have proof if he can’t!”

I had rolled my eyes at her. Typical Charlie behavior, sticking her nose in every business I had. This time I couldn’t blame her though since she had been present for this cosmic event. Is that what this was? A cosmic event? Had the stars aligned for this moment to happen today of all days? It was up to me if they had. And as the time grew later, the minutes were passing by, counting down until Charlie would kill me tomorrow or not.

Ugh. Fine. You win this time. Both of you.

To: Chris Bang

I left the message open, thinking for too long about what to say to this mystical man that gave me his number out of blue. I debated texting Charlie to ask what I should say, but I knew her answer. ‘Just text him hi! Nothing scary about that.’ How wrong she was… I took a deep breath, letting my chest rise and fall fully before picking up my phone again.

To: Chris Bang

Tomorrow, under the tree next to the Lewis building. That’s our normal spot. No later than noon or else I’m toast.

I threw my phone across the bed, somehow thinking that if I held it when he answered he would know and he would think I was staring at my phone and waiting for his answer. I mean, I was, but he didn’t need to know that.

My phone lit up across the bed. I couldn’t read what waited for me on my home screen and I could feel my heart beating faster the closer I drew to my phone. It was like a ticking time bomb, even when I knew it wasn’t. I crept until I could see that the waiting message was indeed from him. And what I read when I opened it made those butterflies that had finally quieted start up again.

From: Chris Bang

We can’t have that, now can we? ;) I’ll be there with my books. What are we studying?

I could and couldn’t believe it. Some part of me that was simply a girl was ecstatic that a boy was flirting with me, according to Charlie. The other, more cautious part that was protective of that girl, was wary. I wasn’t looking for another heartbreak and I was not wanting to set myself up for one.

To: Chris Bang

Why don’t you come and find out?

Damn it.

“Why am I nervous? I didn’t talk to him last night. But then again, I didn’t buy coffee for him either.”

“Charlie, I swear to god.” The chilly September air was unusual for so early in the month, but it was that time of year here. The mornings were colder so you wore a jacket and by midday, you wondered why you even brought one in the first place. “The girl asked me if I wanted a mess-up and you know I’m not one to turn down free anything. So I said sure. End of story. I wanted a muffin too but they didn’t have any left. The girl said some guy came in and bought them all. I did not buy him a coffee. Who knows if he even likes coffee?”

“I don’t know. But I know that if he accepts it, that says something.”

“It really doesn’t.”

“It does too.”

“It says he likes free things. That’s about it. Who doesn’t like free shit?”

“I know I do.” Chris’s voice came from behind us just then, carrying a bookbag and a paper bag in his hand. “They had more muffins than they knew what to do with so I grabbed some.”

“Such a gentleman.” Charlie leaped for the bag and tore it open. “Ugh, I love Coffee Bean’s muffins. We also have extra coffee if you want it. She picked it up before she got here.”

“Oh, thanks!” Chris grabbed the cup and took a sip, his lips curving to the shape of the cup. It was that moment I took the chance to really look at him from top to bottom. His hair was parted off to the side and he had opted for a white t-shirt with our university on the front. Jeans and vans completed the look and a worn leather bracelet adorned his wrist. It almost looked homemade.

“That’s a cool bracelet.” I said as cooly as I could manage, trying not to stare at it too hard. He touched it with\a gentleness that resembled fondness, like he was remembering something to do with it.

“Thanks, my sister gave it to me before I left for school. She’s back home in Austrailia.” It wasn’t news on campus that he wasn’t from America. His accent was a dead giveaway. “She likes to say that she hates me but when I remind her about this, she gets real quiet.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister, I have one too. She moved from my hometown to Arizona. Followed where her connections took her or whatever. But she’s happier there than she ever was back home. Even found herself a girlfriend.”

“Oh wow, she must really be thriving over there then. That’s great for her. I wish my sister would find someone just so she have something else to do other than torture me through the internet.”

“How does she do that?” I took another sip of my coffee.

“She’s really growing in fame on Tiktok. She actually put out an EP not too long ago. Called Perfect Blues. She let me listen to it before she put it out for notes and stuff and it’s actually pretty good!”

“I'll have to give it a listen then if it’s that good. She must have worked really hard on it.”

“Yeah, she’s been working non stop promoting and writing new stuff. She’s actually good. It’s hard for me to believe because I still see her as my little sister. I don’t think that’ll ever change.”

Charlie was being awfully quiet, scarfing down the muffins Chris had brought. When I spotted the wrappers placed beside her and counted them. “Charlie, did you eat all of the muffins? How many are in there?”

“Oh please, there are plenty left. You two just seemed to be engrossed in conversation, I didn’t want to interrupt.” She eyed me like she had the day before when Chris gave me his number. I couldn't help my eyes rolling in response. This girl will be the death of me…

“So what are we doing today? I know I have a paper that’s due on Friday, but I can do it later-”

“See, Chris? Maybe it’s a good thing you came to us this early in the semester. This is the time we do all of those things we say we’re doing ‘later’.”

“Charlie is very intent on keeping her GPA above a 4.0. We’ve been doing this ever since freshman year, but we only found this spot last year during Spring semester. She’s been on my ass ever since, which is why I have the grades that I do. She keeps me on top of my shit and I make sure she comes up for air every once in a while.” Chris nodded along to my words, listening intently and watching. Charlie just nodded along.

“You’re welcome by the way.” She turned to Chris, coffee in hand. “I’m the reason she passed stats with flying colors last year.” I rolled my eyes for the second time in a two-minute period.

“That’s just what I like to tell her. Makes her feel more important.” I whispered over to him, which in turn made him laugh. I hadn’t heard it up close like I just had two seconds ago. When it was a genuine laugh, he almost squeaked on the intake like a door that needed to be oiled. It was an easy laugh to crave to hear. I knew it would haunt me like a ghost in the weeks to come, even then. Chris grabbed his laptop out of his backpack and started typing, pulling books from the backpack as well to occasionally look up an answer to something he was typing. I pulled out my headphones when the comfortable silence fell, leaving one ear open to the world outside of my own bubble.

“Whatcha listening to?” Chris poked my thigh from where he was laying on his stomach on our blanket.

“This and that.” I couldn’t help my smile when his attention was on me. It was like a shot of sunshine straight to your veins.

“Just this and that? Do you mind if I also listen to ‘just this and that’?” His question shouldn't have caught me by surprise, but I found myself handing him my other headphone despite myself. “I think someone’s music taste says a lot about that as a person. Well, movies and music.” He stuck it in his ear and returned to his laptop, typing away.

“I love the Princess Bride. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine too.” He turned his sparkling eyes back towards me and smiled. I felt the blush creep up to my cheeks and I had to look away or else risk him catching it.

I flashed a glance towards Charlie to see if she had caught the exchange. She had, because she was wiggling her eyebrows at me. ‘Oh my god’ she mouthed at me, glancing at Chris to see if he was watching. He was not. And when she turned back to me, she picked up her phone, indicating that the conversation would continue there.

From: Charlie

Dude WHAAATTTT??? I told you, he likes you!! That was not a coincidence.

To: Charlie

I still think you’re nuts

From: Charlie

Think me nuts all you want, but I’m about to prove it.

I looked up from my phone to catch her eye. ‘How’ I mouthed in my most disbelieving look. It didn't occur to her that Chris was just looking for his newest girl to conquer, and I didn’t want to spoil her fun, so I just sat back as she mouthed back to me ‘Watch’.

“Hey Chris?” He looked over his shoulder to her with his eyebrows raised. “I promised my friend over here that I would take her out for dinner tomorrow night, but I have to cancel. My boyfriend’s birthday is tomorrow and I totally forgot. He’s not around here so I have to call him and do this whole long distance date and everything. Anyway, I thought maybe you could cover for me with her?”

I could do nothing but stare at my own textbook. One half of me was embarrassed that she would be so obvious with her plans. And even without my real knowledge of it. She would pay for that tonight, without a doubt. The other half couldn’t watch the trainwreck about to crash when he said he had plans. That half would be crushed when he said no, he’d have to pass like he did when he was trying to be polite when a girl asked him out and he didn’t want to go. Either ‘sorry, I have to pass this time’ or ‘I just don’t have the time right now’. Either of those were the responses I was waiting for. Definitely not

“Sure! Is that okay with you?”

Unable to feign my deafness when he poked me again, I mumbled a quick ‘hm?’ so they could catch me up to speed.

“Charlie had to cancel on you, so I’m taking you out tomorrow night.” His excitement was an unexpected surprise. Charlie beamed triumphantly from behind him at me, relishing in her victory.

“Oh really?” I said a hair more fake than I meant to. When I tore my eyes away from Charlie to look at Chris, he had a confident but genuine smile to show me. And damn it, I couldn’t help but return it every time. “And where are we going?”

“I’ll text you the details tomorrow. Just be ready by 6, yeah?” He didn’t wait for an answer and returned to his laptop.

The excitement of going on a date with a cute boy, no matter who he was, still ran through me like it was any other date. Charlie would pay for it, no doubt. But the thrill was still there that maybe, just maybe, he might be what Charlie suspects. But only time would tell.

Chris was normal the rest of the time he laid with us on our blanket, making occasional jokes with Charlie about their shared class, the professor, and the stupid people in that class. This left me with the opportunity to look around and see if anyone noticed the Mr. Campu Man had picked a new spot to hang out. His usual crowd was seated near the picnic benches where they normally were. None of them seemed any kind of curious as to where their fearless leader was, and that seemed completely fine by them. It was when he left for his class load for the day that Charlie really got her proof.

“Alright guys, I gotta head to bio. But if the invitation is still open, I’d love to come tomorrow too.”

“Only if you bring more muffins or some other baked good with you. If not, don’t bother showing up, Bang.” To that he chuckled and when Charlie didn’t chuckle back, he glanced my way.

“Oh, she’s serious.”

“As a heart attack.” Chare chimed in without looking up from her laptop. Chris kept his face blank for a second longer, then nodded in resignation.

“Any specific requests?” He said this part to me, asking me directly. I thought for a second. If he was going to go through with it, then what was the harm?

“Bagels, if you please sir.” I said in my best mocking voice, leaving it up to him to decide if I was telling the truth or not. He laughed again and put on his now fully packed backpack.

“As you wish.” He replied and left without another word.

A hard slap hit my arm the second he was far away enough from us.

“Oh my god!” She hit me on the arm again and again until I had to grab her wrist to make her stop. “I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”

“Why are you freaking out more than I am?” I buried my nose in the closest textbook to me to hide my face in.

“Mainly because I was right. But also because of the simple fact that a cute boy likes you! And I called it. How am I more excited than you?”

“Mainly because he didn’t even ask me. You asked him for me. He’s just being nice, Charlie. No one can say no to you, don’t you know that?”

“Girl. If he didn’t want to go, he would’ve said no. He has no problem saying no and you know that. I really don’t think he would have said yes if he didn’t want to.” I just shrugged, telling myself that she was right, but at the same time not wanting to believe it myself. I couldn’t bring myself to fully insert myself in the daydream that Charlie was living in, fighting the urge to run away and hide for good.

“I just-” I sighed and laid back on the blanket, letting the sun warm the air around me and breezes come and go. “I think I would be more excited if he had asked me himself.”

“He just needed to know that you would be into it. Give him a chance and see how he acts tomorrow night. If he’s a douche, then call me and I’ll get you out of it. But if he’s nice and into you, then that’s kinda your answer, isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

Wait and see. That was my plan. That was all I had.

After my classes of the day were over, I went back to my apartment with Rhiannon to unload in a hot shower. Rhiannon came in while I had my towel wrapped around me on the way back to my room.

“Hey! How was your day?” She asked from her place in the hallway amid the ruffle of bags she dropped by the door. She only brought one to the couch with her and rifled through it to find her laptop.

“Pretty interesting, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” She inquired, ready for more details as she peered from behind her computer.

“Yeah, I got asked out, well not really asked out-”

“BY WHO?!” She shrieked, throwing the laptop aside to jump out of her seat.

“Chris Bang?” She stops in place and turns to face me dead on. Her features were frozen in a mixture of shock and what looked like…sadness.

“Chris Bang?” She repeated.

“Yeah. He didn’t really ask me out of the blue, Charlie made up some lie about us having plans beforehand when we really didn’t and she asked him if he would take her place, which he did.”

Rhiannon was pensive as she watched me recount the details, not letting me forget a single one. She even asked me exactly what his words were when he agreed to it and what exactly happened afterwards; his mannerisms, the word choice, and the nature of his body language.

“It sounds like he was actually interested, if that helps you. From what you can recall, you don’t have to worry about that part. But you seem disinterested now. Why?”

“Because he didn’t actually ask me.”

“So?”

“He’s just filling in, he felt bad that I would be left hanging.”

“I don’t think he would’ve agreed if he didn’t actually want to go.”

“Rhi…”

She was eyeing me up and down, gauging my words against her own knowledge.

“Why can’t you believe he would like you? What’s so hard for you to believe?

“It’s not that, I just don’t want to be next in the queue. I don’t want to be just another girl he’s gone out with, no matter how cute he is or how smooth he can be. I wanted to be able to resist him because I know better than to believe-”

“Believe what? That a boy with eyes can have a crush on a pretty girl? That a cute boy would see the same thing your friends are seeing? What’s so unbelievable about that?”

I sighed. “All of it. Why him? Why me?”

“Why not him? Listen, if you’re really that worried about it, just take it slow. Don’t do anything you wouldn’t normally do on a date with a guy and just treat him like any other guy. That should ease your nerves, right?”

“No.”

“Maybe picking out your outfit ahead of time will help give you more confidence. Come!” She sprung off the couch and headed for my bedroom without turning to see if I was following. By the time I passed through my door, she was already piling clothed on my bed a foot high already.

“How do you have nothing in here! What do you normally wear on dates?”

I rolled my eyes.

God help me.

He picked a good spot, I had to admit. Not to him, not to inflate what I was sure was a big enough ego. But Marty’s was far enough away from campus that we would be uninterrupted by any of his friends but not so far that we felt secluded from society altogether. The restaurant had a good enough reputation among students to be a good place to bring a date if you want some special alone time together. The implication of him bringing me here was not lost in the bounds of my thinking mind.

The room was warm and inviting, a red kind of wallpaper surrounded us with candle lit sconces in the upper columns and casted the dining room in a warm glow. The wooden tables helped the cozy feeling as soon as you walked in, as most of the furniture in the large room matched the rest of the dining room. The walls were graced with vintage-looking florals paintings that looked like they could’ve been plucked straight from an art magazine.

“Did I mention that you look nice tonight?” Chris blushed as he asked, turning his gaze back downwards toward his menu. His repetition of the question caught me off guard, being the third time he had mentioned it.

“Yeah, you did. But thank you again.” I tried to flash him my best comforting grin, which he looked up just in time to catch.

“I’m sorry, I’m not normally this nervous.” He smiled again and let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing his hands on his pant legs.

“Why are you nervous? At least your friend didn’t have to ask someone out on a date for you.”

“How do you know she and I didn’t plan something elaborate while we were in class because I was too nervous to do it myself?” I laughed at the preposterous notion that Chris Bang could be too nervous to do anything ever. “What was that for?” His smile was back in place of his nervous chuckle.

“I’m sorry, you just don’t ever seem nervous to do anything. So the thought of that just isn’t possible.”

“Why ever not?” He was quizzical, raising his brow at me from across the table and ruffling his white button down. His black earrings initially had given me some pause but the longer I looked, I saw the Prada logo and how well they matched his tailored pants. They had a light gray pattern going around them and hit him just above the ankle. He oozed wealth when dressed like this, not that I had seen him this way until now. His hair was perfectly styled to a side part, a few strands falling into his face. His dress shoes almost seemed too fancy for the restaurant he brought me to with their gold chain going across the top.

His family must have had money.

“You just don’t seem like you get your feathers ruffled very easily. Very go-with-the-flow kind.”

“You’re not wrong. But when the first half of the plan that wasn’t up to me went perfectly and now it’s only up to me, I’m getting nervous. I haven’t been this nervous before.”

“But why? What’s so different about me?”

“Can I get you guys some wine to start with?” Just then a well-dressed waitress came up to us to hand us a laminated wine list with names I could barely pronounce written in a fancy cursive font. It distracts us enough that I forget what I was thinking before she arrived.

Chris perused the wine list and selected for us, subtly but not so subtly flashing his knowledge just a touch. He eased up a bit as the night went on, bringing up his childhood. Head bounced between Korea and Australia before coming to the states during high school so he and his siblings could have a ‘normal’ education. They lived a few states away so Chris could ward off any unwanted visits from his parents. It wasn't that he didn’t love them, but they could be a lot sometimes. He talked about his sister and how she had stayed in Australia to pursue a musical path. Chris supported her in any way he could, but that life just wasn’t for him. And his youngest brother was in school back in the home state, going through all of the fun life stages of being fifteen.

We had just gotten to what brought me to our university when the dessert had come out. The tension in my shoulders from the anxiousness of the situation had eased immensely and Chris hadn’t uttered a nervous chuckle since the appetizers.

“I picked it because it wasn’t too far from home. I had the same idea you did, except I live in-state. It’s just my mom and me. My dad decided not to be a dad anymore when I was twelve and I haven’t seen him since. From what my mom can tell me, it’s better this way. She doesn’t miss him and that tells me I shouldn’t either. I don’t remember much.”

“I’m sorry that’s the way it is, though. I don’t know what I would do without my dad.” He gave me a sad smile as he picked up his fork. I did the same and reached for the small tower of chocolate between us. It melted in my mouth just like I thought it would, but my thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of my phone on the table. I picked it up just in time to see Charlie’s name appear on my screen.

“I’ll be really quick, I promise.” I said with a grimace, standing up from my seat.

“No problem! I promise I’ll leave some for you.” He smiled back, assuring me. I nodded and headed out the front door.

“What?” I bit at Charlie.

“Soooo? How’s it going?” Her voice was airy as it questioned me.

“It’s still going and you’re interrupting!” I didn’t want to be rude but in spite of myself and how I got here, I was having a really nice time and I wanted to get back to it before the clock struck twelve and Chris Bang turned back into the popular guy who would forget who I was.

“Okay, sorry! I will await the debrief when you get back! Come straight here!” I hung up on her and reentered the building. Chris was talking to the waitress with an easy smile on his face and my heart sunk. This wasn’t supposed to be a date anyways. Not really. Charlie had done this because she was nice. I had tried not to get my hopes up but the more we talked, the easier it was to believe he might actually like me. So much for that.

He spotted me by the door and waved, motioning to the plate he had left for me to finish if I wanted. I gave him a half smile and headed back over, doing my best to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest.

“Everything okay?” He asked gently. He was putting something into his back pocket while he watched my movements for an answer.

“Yeah, she’s just nosy.”

“Ah. Well, thank her for me when you see her later tonight.”

“For what?”

“Oh, I was being serious. I asked for her help to ask you out because I was too nervous to do it myself.” I just stared at him in disbelief. He waited, with held breath it seemed, for my reaction. And when I didn’t give him one, he continued. “I had seen you around campus with her before and when she showed up in my class, I had to take my opportunity. I’m really hoping that helps me come off as cool or something and not a loser.”

“I don’t think you’re a loser.” I replied quietly. I gave him a reassuring smile and he mirrored it.

“Do you want to head out of here? Go for a walk or something?”

“Sure. Don’t we need to grab the checks first though?”

“Uh, no. It’s all taken care of.” He patted his back pocket when he stood up, which I could now see held a wallet-shaped object.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes I did. It’s only right.” He held out his hand for me to take. “Shall we go?”

Oh boy...

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sy-on-boy · 2 years

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Okay, so Ch69 was a BOMBSHELL (and I'm going insane)

SSS appearing at the beginning makes me think Yuri might take on the case, meaning he might meet Anya (Anya's not supposed to know about Yuri's job) and Damian

It would also make sense since the Red Circus was taken on by Yor (Ch17.5) and it would be funny to see the two siblings deal with the same enemy while preventing the other sibling from knowing about it

Damian is sitting with George. You would've expected him to sit with Ewen/Emile, but he let them sit together. This is very curious to me because George literally tried to get Damian expelled, and only failed because Anya stood up for him (the teacher wouldn't believe E&E). Damian, sweetie, this is a boy who tried to frame you as a smoker and sent a spy to change your grades. Good for you that you don't hold it against him, I guess

I do think Ewen and Emile are very devoted to Damian (see the boys' field trip) but maybe Damian doesn't want them to fight over who gets to sit next to him?

Anya and Damian also sit in the same row on the two sides of the bus. Knowing how Anya wants to approach Damian (and how Damian notices Anya), it's probably intentional.

Bill makes a reappearance, which is a welcome surprise. Damian sounds like a classist (literally) with his comment that the school should've at least given each class their own bus. Huh, didn't know Damian liked his class that much (or hated the other classes so much)

"Shut up. Who told you Wald hall kids you're allowed to talk to me?" ??? Is Damian still salty about losing the dodgeball match?? Does he think Cecil hall is superior? Is there a hierarchy at school? Or does he just not like Bill?

"All you other classes are our rivals" Damian bestie your classes could change next year. According to what Becky said, they're going to be divided by grades. Damian sure has a lot of Cecil hall loyalty / pride for some reason

I love Anya's impression of Damian. He's a silly, snot-faced crybaby. Like, it's really evident from the artstyle that Anya thinks of herself as "totally adorable" (with Becky nodding in agreement, aww) while Damian is just a goofy scion.

NOTE: in Anya's imagination, the teacher says Damian is "an uggo on the inside". And Anya also says, "Sy-on boy isn't ugly, he's just a piece of crap"

So Anya doesn't judge from appearances, unlike Damian who repeatedly calls her an uggo and a runt, and it's possible Anya thinks of herself as "superior" to Damian because she doesn't think he's ugly, she just thinks he sucks in general LMFAO

So Anya doesn't think Damian is ugly. Maybe. She probably thinks he looks stupid though

By the way, Anya makes herself look prettier in her own filter. Damian also makes her look prettier in his filter

Anya throws a crumbled up piece of paper to get Damian's attention. This is exactly what Damian did when they first met and he wanted her attention

Damianya violence arc omg. Damian seems to be blushing less as the chapters go on, and they have a fun sort of semi-rivalry.

DAMIAN GOT THE CAKE FOR ANYA!! "I should just hand her the stupid cake and be done with it" Awww he genuinely got her cake! And it's the crunchy sort which she likes!

And Damian let E&E eat it (it doesn't look like he ate any himself) while being all flustered and annoyed. He's a good kid, deep down

A reference to the macaron arc! Lots of references to so-called Damianya (aka school) chapters, with 1) Bill + dodgeball, 2) George and the macarons, 3) Handkerchief + cake (+ Bond's kibble which was a gag in the handkerchief chapter)

Anya offers dog food to Damian. This is hilarious because she sounds so innocent and genuine, but Damian is furious.

"Cecil hall kids sure are noisy" Whoops, even Wald hall knows about Cecil's reputation. Damian and Anya probably argue every day at school. They're going to be Those Two

It's interesting to see that Anya isn't reading minds this chapter. She didn't realize Damian got cake for her and she didn't seem to have realised the driver was a terrorist? Missing Damian's thoughts is normal because it was a fleeting thought, but the terrorist was probably concentrating on the hijacking for like, the entire bus ride. Anya, you good?

And then the bus is hijacked. Woo! Action! Drama! Wow!

I'm super excited for this arc because of how much potential it as. It's giving me the vibes of Cruise Arc but with the Eden kids. It also feels like a fanfic to me, particularly my fic when Anya saves Damian from an assassination lol. Here's a dump of my thoughts:

Damian might be a main target. We know about his dad and his influence in the political sphere. Bill says "chairman's son Damian", which might be a nod to the fact. The terrorist guy also mentions "as the nation's elite, you've probably figured out what's happening", and Damian is an elite among the elite

This will focus on the subplot of Damian and Anya's friendship. As I said earlier, this chapter has multiple references to past Damianya chapters. There's also the theme of friendship going on currently, with Loid telling Anya to treasure her friends. Anya is also desperate to go on with Plan B because she feels threatened by her mom befriending Melinda. And Damian indeed buys Anya cake even if he never agreed to it in the first place lol, showing a bit of development. Anya also fantasizes about purposefully getting Damian into trouble and saving him, and now the entire bus is in trouble (and Anya can save him maybe?). So maybe we'll have scenes of Anya saving Damian (furthering his debt to her, which is mentioned in the chapter) or Damian saving Anya (paying her back since he never got to give her cake)

The adults might come in too. The possibilities:

Yuri, as I mentioned earlier, might be one because the SSS knows about this. I know this is a stretch but we might get Demetrius debut with Yuri (or after this arc). In a previous post I noted that the Forgers and Desmonds meet in pairs of fathers, mothers, and children. Demetrius is Damian's brother and Yuri is Yor's brother, so maybe the brothers might be a pair?

Yor was previously involved with the Red Circus, and I can see her coming back to tie up loose ends. And possibly going batshit because Anya is in danger. This might end up with Yor meeting Damian, which I think certainly makes sense after the Yorlinda chapters and Yor acting shocked that Melinda doesn't seem to care much about Damian.

Twilight would be interesting because of his dynamic with Damian. I analyzed the panels during the Twilight-Donovan face-off and you can just see Damian is standing with Twilight instead of his actual father. They get along fine and I think Damian likes Loid well enough.

Obviously, all three will have to conceal their identity from Anya (and the other Eden kids), so we might get one-sided interactions (such as Twilight saving Damian but Damian thinking he's just been saved by a random man)

And even funnier would be to have multiple adults on the scene (for Anya) and they have to hide from each other. Iconic Thorn Princess x Twilight teamup maybe?!

Anya (and the rest) might get Stellars. This time, if she saves them, she'll have an entire bus full of witnesses, unlike the Ken drowning incident. This could drastically affect Anya's reputation at school and her relationship with Damian. We might also get the Cecil 5 (+ Bill and George since they're sitting close to them) working together, which will be fun.

I do think Damian might give up the "our classes are rivals" thing if the two halls end up bonding / working together

And since I have the brain of a fanfic author, imagine if Damian is in trouble and Anya has to save him and vice versa... this is going to be the first real danger the kids have been in

I know this is a bit chaotic and messy but this chapter is scratching the itch lol. I'm going to be insane for the duration of this arc.

I'm so excited. I cannot wait for the next few chapters <3 Endo really went all out on this one with drama, action, humor, and there's so many ways this one could go!! <3

#spy x family #spy x family spoilers #sxf ch69 #anya forger #damian desmond #damianya #bill watkins #becky blackbell #ewen egeburg #emile elman #george glooman #sxf analysis #i guess #long post

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infernal-feminae · 2 months

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@nebula-gaster plotted for a starter with Allure!

She had bided her time until this moment. The moment where she'd worm her way back into her rightful place in Hell's hierarchy. Allure had been keeping tabs on the Overlords that had continued to come and go over the decades. Until the opportunity finally presented itself in the form of the Acid Queen.

The silent film star made her way through the club, sniffing distastefully. She remembered when night clubs used to be classy places. Such places were a rarity these days. Her eyes lit up when she spotted who she was looking for.

"Oh my stars, is that the Acid Queen herself~?" Allure gushed, making her way over to the Flora. "Excuse tha' inta'ruption, dahling. I just had to come ova' an' meetcha. Why, you're much prettier in person~"

#🎬Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇ: ᴀʟʟᴜʀᴇ ꜰᴀᴛᴀʟᴇ #nebula gaster

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h4chi · 1 year

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romeo + juliet act iv

word count 403. use of 1 pet name. yn’s dad is close minded. NOT PROOFREAD. i’ll most likely edit it in the next days. a piece taken from shakespeare’s romeo and juliet script.

you were once again on your balcony, with the soft breeze that ruffled your hair. jake was standing downstairs, again with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. you can never get tired of this.

“yn!” he whisper-yelled.

you waved happily in return.

“what brings you here, jake?”

“i missed your face.”

“we call every night, sweetie.”

“i missed seeing your face in real life. you’re 100 times prettier.” he took a short pause. “no, don’t get me wrong. you’re always beautiful. breathtaking. but in real life. you’re almost as beautiful as my mother.”

you put a hand on your chest, smiling.

“oh my. oh jake, jake! Why are you named jake? disown your family and refuse your name. or, if you will not, then swear that you love me and I’ll stop being from SM. it’s only your name which is my enemy. you are who you are, even if you weren’t from HYBE. what is HYBE? it’s not a hand, nor a foot, nor an arm, nor a face, nor any other concrete part of the body. oh, be some other name! what’s in a name? a rose would smell just as sweet if we called it by any other name. jake, if he had a different name besides “jake,” would be just as perfect as he is with that name now. jake, take off your name, and in exchange for that superficial part of you, take all of me.”

jake laughed at your silly theatrical piece.

“be careful, jake. you don’t want anyone finding out you’re here.”

“who’s here?”

you turned around. “dad? i didn’t hear you.”

you motioned with your hand for jake to leave.

“why are you on your balcony with this cold? and who are you talking to?”

he took a peak of whatever was behind you, and he saw the back of jake’s figure.

“oh. the hybe guy. again.”

you were now totally screwed.

“yn, i’m so disappointed in you. you’re not getting away with this. actually, i’ve decided. you’re marrying intak tomorrow.”

“what? dad, you can’t do this!” you dad makes his way to the exit, and you follow him.

“yes i can. i am your father, yn. i decide who you can or cannot see. we have a hierarchy in this house, and everyone has to respect that.” he slammed the door behind him, and all you could do was breaking down in uncontrollable tears.

previous | scene twenty the balcony scene | masterlist | next

SUMMARY it’s at a masked party his family throws that you first see him, and never you would’ve expected to fall in love with him, but more so to find out that he’s the son of your family’s biggest enemy.

taglist @enhacolor @soobin-chois @bubblytaetae @lunaflvms @msxflower @anotherimaginesaccount @diestheticu @13thcadaver @jakelux @kazuhugs @igotkpoops @iloveoceaneyesss @neozon3nha @captivq @enhastolemyheart @lonewolfjinji @wonyoungsvirus

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #kpop imagines #kpop smau #kpop #enhypen ff #enhypen jake #enhyphen #jake imagines #jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake x you #sim jake x reader #sim jake x you

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prettieinpink · 8 months

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MASTERLIST

GENERAL ♡

romanticising your morning

new year, new me guide(collab with @bloombabydoll)

being that girl- back to school.

making your room to be intentional

improving your life- the little aspects(collab with @honeytonedhottie)

how to start setting boundaries

making your phone to be intentional

making friends

inexpensive solo date ideas

having an intentional room

MINDSET ♡

how to stop overthinking

detachment

processing your emotions without suppressing them

how to stop comparing yourself to others

healing your inner child

how to feel satisfied/grateful in life

how to stop self sabotaging + doubting

how to begin healing

self validation

developing JOMO(joy of missing out)

stop obsessing over the past

cultivating a growth mindset

rebranding yourself

creating your own garden

changing the way you view yourself

FASHION/BEAUTY ♡

wardrobe essentials

growing out lashes + eyebrows

prettier hierarchy — image

EDUCATION/ACADEMICS ♡

being smart makes you prettier

creating + using flash cards

creating a study routine

dealing with a bad grade

going back to school as her

studying effectively in and out of school

PRODUCTIVITY ♡

How to salvage a half-wasted day

journaling guide

notion page ideas

how to be productive after school

Establishing a routine

Increasing your attention span

how to stop being lazy

HEALTH ♡

optimising sleep + maximising beauty

lowering your cortisol levels

cycle syncing beginner guide

cycle syncing: food masterlist

romanticising exercise

regulating your mood while on your period

Relieving fatigue

exercise n diet guidelines

healing from an addiction

everyday guide to vitamins

guide to starting to workout

#masterlist #prettieinpink #girlblog #glow up #glow up era #becoming that girl #just girly things #green juice girl #self improvement #self healing #self love #self care #girl blogger #girlblogger #girl blog #it girl

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dictatorose · 6 months

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that marriage here became synonymous with government was an apt symbol. what sat between him and livia was an institutionalized union with its own set of guidelines and hierarchy which he intended to draft, as capitol-mandated as his new living quarters, and clothes, and agendas. there was only one question in a house and that was who was to rule — all else followed from the simple notion, and he navigated it with the same sharp precision he did his campaign. polished, arranged, and neat, with no hint of wild affair, or disorienting sentiment. on some days, district twelve felt to him like a distant dream, another lifetime ago. on others, it felt like yesterday, and on days such as those, he often needed to scrub away the memory of mud, and dirt, and flesh. there were no birds here, no weeds, and to emphasize the civility, he'd taken to having vases brimming with freshly cut white roses on the mantelpiece, the tables, the cupboards. cold and clean, beautiful and kept. he needed them, sometimes, these small reminders of wealth.

livia cardew, he thought as he adjusted his cufflinks, was the epitome of the capitol's grandeur. a pretty face with a prettier name, and a family fortune wrought of the largest bank in the city. she appeared charming on their televised appearances together, looked good on his arm, and better when she was silent, in her own bedroom, far away from him. it was the perfect arrangement. kissing her was not unlike kissing a statue. in one word, ideal.

@roseguided / livia cardew said, i am selfish. i am cruel. my mate cannot be less than i.

less than i, the unintended irony of her words is not lost on him. his entitled, spoiled classmate, now his entitled wife. he would find it amusing were it not grating, like her voice. the familiar resentment he felt for her, nurtured from their days at the academy, slithered up his ribs, entwined around each one. he revelled in the acidity, for it was exactly as he intended it. ❝ how lucky you are to have met your match. ❞ coriolanus drawled, no warmth nestled in his tone despite the offered grin and teasing tone. he granted her the courtesy of facing her as he spoke, his cold eyes tracing her visage as he did so; the extravagant dress, the done-up hair. like the roses, she was a good reminder of his success. ❝ let's be selfish a little longer tonight, hm? i've no desire to leave for the gala yet. they'll just have to wait for us. ❞ off the dresser, he grasped a small, neatly wrapped box; a gift, which inside itself held rose-shaped earrings to match the rose-shaped broach pinned to his suit, as carefully selected as they were wrapped.

#roseguided #roseguided ft. livia cardew.#( * o. ⊰ script. )#( * i. ⊰ main arc )#🤭#i'm imagining this VERY early on.

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la-hannya · 1 year

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people ask at r*ddt why towa and sestuna didnt have dog ears

Well like the info/answers they desire was already given by Sunrise during one of their interviews. I remember seeing it posted. Apparently, since Sesshomaru's human form is very humanoid looking that's why the twins look like they look which is fine and peachy I guess but that doesn't explain their uncle Inuyasha (as Toga/Inu no Taishō has a similar form ofc) looking part dog. But I'm 100% sure it's more cause they're Pedosawa's OC DONUT STEEL and ofc, they don't have to just look GOOD, but they gotta win the genetic lottery which gave them powers that even their father and grandparents did not posses or even showed along being able to control their demon state much faster when Inuyasha had such a hard time with that, needing his sword or Kagome's spiritual powers to have some control. But to be factually blunt... This was actually mentioned in the original series by Jineji's mother when she commented that Inuyasha was one of the prettier half demons. Like Yokai (ofc in part humans) half demons can come in all shapes, yōkai of the Daiyōkai hierarchy/category in particular tend to have more mastery of transformation, which is why most of them showed up in these good looking human forms more in the series except in some cases like Ryukotsusei, the Panther/Leopard cat King or Taigokumaru, who seemingly preferred their beast appearance, sticking to look how they really are. Or even born looking in-between (exhibit A. Shippo). Same for half demons. You get the picture. Also, it was shown that human looking yokai can totally reproduce with yokai of more monstrous appearances as Hiten and Manten's pops liked their mom just the way she looked. Still following?

So the thing is, like I said in the case of twins they ain't got the puppy ears because that's how they wanted it, more than the already established lore.

It's not that deep for people to go to reddit in my opinion. Ig? Like if people want the dog ears you can put it on them. Or a tail. If they're THAT unsatisfied with how they look.

Anywho, Hny is what if anyway.

#anti Sessrin #my neurodivergent ass turned this into #Inuyasha races 101 genetics #ha #writing a fanfic is consuming me #antisessrin

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ellas-journey · 9 months

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The sword, heart of the samurai, or so you thought 🤺

There were three sword hunts during the course of Japanese history. The first one was the Hideyoshi sword hunt during 1580, where it was ordered that only the samurai class could have swords. The second one was the 1876’s Meiji government order to abolish the wearing of swords, with the consequent ending of the samurai class. And third one was in the post WW2 where the Allied Occupation banished everything that could be a weapon and the katana stopped being a weapon to start being a work of art. While it could be argued that they are technically not true sword hunts, the reality is that they shaped the way the Japanese society behaved around said swords. Swords were a symbol of status, a symbol of the warrior. Or at least it looked like it.

During a long time, war as made by bow and arrow. Then, various types of swords started to appear: the katana (sword), tachi (long sword), hoko or naginata (halberd), yari (lance). But guns were introduced in the 16th century by the Portuguese in Tanegashima, even tho gun powder was already knowned thanks to the Chinese. (If you watched Princess Mononoke, you can see that the guns they used are inspired by Chinese guns and the “more powerful ones” are inspired by the western ones) There is this myth that the oh so mighty samurai would never touch on a gun. Yah sure, they loved them, or at least during the times they were a novelty. One of Nobunaga's biggest victories was in Nagashino when he used an army with musketeers, and mixed western military techniques with Japanese ones. If they could fight from afar, they would. For instance, the Boshin war was mainly fought by gun. The only fully modern sword fight was the Jipuren rebellion and that happened because they were precisely fighting against the ban of the swords. Also, guns could be expensive to maintain, but it was even more expensive to train someone during years to yield a sword. The fact that the sword alone was portrait as the soul of the samurai since ancient times has a lot to do with its myths and significance. For instance, one of the imperial artifacts is a sword, so it does have this air of authority. Also, the fact that you behead a person with a sword (the French are laughing with the guillotine) so it was the significance of the ending of a battle. The sword became the social status of the samurai, so when the sword hunts started to affect their status, they started to take it personally. Japan swords had a symbolic value, fat greater than they had in Europe. It was not just the OG fighting weapon, it was a palpable form of honor, ence “the soul of the samurai”. It was the only embodiment of honor, and it was an obligatory part of one’s costume. You could not have a family name unless you had a sword. If one commoner made something that would make him go up in the social hierarchy, he would be guaranteed the myoji-taito - a ceremony where he would receive a sword and a surname.

Swords were also highly symbolic because of the way the samurai would handle it in battle. There were manuals that would explain the most beautiful and at the same time masterful way of using the swords. And managing a sword was seen as more elegant that managing a gun. Even in the gun teaching manuals it looked like in the remarks that the teachers were sorry because there was not truly a prettier way of handling it. Still even with guns, they always carried a sword. Men felt undress without their swords. But sooner or later swords would become works of arts thanks to their masterful swordsmith. Major swords dubbed as works of art. Yes, swords are seen as major metallurgical works of art in a lot of part in the word but in Japan they would take this to the extreme. For instance, when Mitsuhide was sieged, he asked for a quick moment of truce so that his swords could be taken out of the castle to the enemy territory and be same, and then they could continue to attack the castle and him. That’s how they would value the swords, even more than their lives. When the Meiji government to renew the army forbad the samurai to wear their swords, they would rebel. On October 24 1874, in Kumamoto, 170 samurai, dressed in full on armor carrying swords attacked the new national tropes and it would be need the entire national army to be putted down. But they would not distinguish the word of art from the day to say usable object. Sword would be extremely decorated as a symbol of power and that same sword would be expected to be used in battle. “The sword remains to this day a source of metaphor in Japan for human characteristics” – Perrin, 1979

KINOSHITA, Naoyuki. 2001 - From weapon to work of art: “sword hunts” in modern Japan. Senri Ethonological Studies, 54, 119-136; <http://doi.org/10.15021/00002838>; CLEMENTS, Jonathan. 2017 - A Brief History of Japan: Samurai, Shogun and Zen. The extraordinary story of the land of the rising sun. Chelsea: Tuttle Publishing. Ebook; PERRIN, Noel. 1979 - Giving up the Gun: Japan’s Reversion to the sword, 1543-1879. New Hampshire. David R. Godine Publisher.

#demon slayer #history #demon slayer from history to fantasy #demonslayerfromhistorytofantasy #history research #japanese history #demon slayer history #kimetsu no yaiba #katana

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shimaneko06 · 9 months

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Songs of enticement: [knowing the difference between sirens and mermaids]

Summary: There you were, princess of the sirens. One of the most powerful beings of the depths, now face-to-face with a random merman, you met at the border. You have met an enemy of your people and have not done anything about it yet. You thought he wouldn't come up to you, seeing how you were minding your own business and trying to hunt. But when he starts to swim towards you and uncaringly passes the border that has been set for 1000 years, you couldn't help but believe that things are about to take a turn for the worse..or so you thought. (Forbidden love, teehee)

Word count: 1.2k

Cw: slight mentions of cannibalism? (Eating people)

Next pt: Chapter 1 - From the start

Hi guys, before I start anything, I just want to clarify the differences between sirens and mermaids and y'know their beef with each other (possibly explaining it in the first chapter). Some headcanons for each species are in there.

Sirens -

Sirens are creatures of the depths; they only go up to shallow areas to feast on humans when they're low on food, which isn't very often. Mermaids believe that the sirens have no food down in the trenches, so they picture them as skinny and malnourished, ravaged by hunger, and they use that excuse to cover up their "unyielding rage against us mermaids". Yeah, no, they're well-fed. Regarding anything that involves customs, I guess eating people is one of them. When they reach a certain age, they have to at least hunt one human. If they wish not to harm them after their coming-of-age ceremony, it is fine to do so. They don't have last names but have titles; they worship dark magic gods; and with females being most prominent in this species, the sirens are matriarchal.

OOO SHAPES AND COLORS (mostly colors) -

Sirens are usually dull in color, ranging from shades of green to blues and very dirty-looking grays. They typically don't have a secondary color as a complementary design to go along with their base color. It is important to note that a siren's hierarchy is based on not only how strong you are but, more importantly, on how bright and colorful your tail color is. The reason is that sirens are attracted to shiny things and are more attentive to them, so the brighter and prettier your tail color is, the higher your position in the hierarchy is.

Mmmm Majik -

Sirens can use magic, but not the usual magic that mermaids can do, but dark magic. Sirens have the capability of understanding how to use dark magic. Although its usage is frowned upon in different societies, dark magic has become part of their culture. To them nothing bad happens if they don't overuse it for anything bad, but using it too much can become very tiring, as does regular magic. Older sirens will teach their young ones how to do simple spells; they will continue to learn more powerful spells as they grow older, attend school, and whatnot. As for common folklore, sirens are great singers, and they are. They just have trouble controlling its manipulative abilities (pfft).

what they look like???? -

Sirens have noticeable differences from mermaids when it comes to their anatomy. Sirens have sharper teeth and fangs; they have retractable claws; they have spines on their tail; and other than being less colorful than mermaids, their fins are usually sharp. A siren's most prominent weapon is their thick and heavy tails. They are built to survive the crushing pressure of the depths, unlike those weak aah mermaids😭. Adapting to the depths was hard for them, but after 1000 years, their eyes have changed to help them see better in the dark. Their sclera is pitch black, while their pupils are slits that will adjust to the dark. Their irises, however, remain unchanged (because it's still pretty to have different eye colors. Sirens usually live up to around 200 years, and as they age, they grow in size. Comparing baby sirens (around 1-5 years old) who are usually around 114 cm (around 3 foot 9 inches for those who don't use the metric system..ehem RAHHHHHHH🦅🦅🦅🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲) to the current queen (135 years old) who is around 533cm (17.5feet). They can get..pretty big.

Home -

Mermaids believe that sirens are cold-hearted and savage, that they won't be able to live happily, and that they are stereotyped as being a type of neolithic society. They are completely wrong. The sirens are living in something similar to Los Angeles, just with fish. They have tried their best to propagate livestock and make farms of edible sea plants that are able to live in the depths. For a few decades, it was difficult, but they have found the right type of species of both flora and fauna that can survive the crushing pressure of the depths. Contradicting the mermaid stereotype, sirens are actually smart and have problem-solving skills.

HEY GUYS ROYALTY! -

Current Queen or Regina Fossae - Queen Accipiter.

Latest King (he dead) or Rex Abyssi - King Corvus

(If yall figured out what I'm naming them off of, I can explain...I like birds. I would've named y/n Luscinia if I could)

Current Crowned Princess or Domina Profundis - you duh, you just don't like telling people.

YAY MERPEOPLE -

Merpeople (mermaids and mermen) are a race of fish-like people who live near coral reefs and live where light touches the water. Most are bubbly and easygoing. Sirens think of mermaids as snobby little shits who only care about how their hair flows with the water and how colorful and shiny their scales are (they aren't wrong). Merpeople are omnivores and don't feast on humans, they love to sing serenades and y'know the good stuff. It's all about beauty; that's how they choose their Queen. Again, this is a matriarchal society (move aside men, it's time to slay), they have last names, and their names are closely related to human names since they interact with them a lot, and they only worship the sea gods.

SHAPES AND COLORS PT.2 -

Merpeople are brightly colored, ranging from pastels to neons. They do not like dull colors at all, and I mean, they hate it a lot. They'll think you're ugly just because your scales aren't pretty like theirs. (#mermaids are racists.) Everything is a beauty contest for them.

Majik powars -

Merpeople aren't really good with magic; sure, they can do transformation magic and talk to fish, yknow, all that jazz, but they get tired really easily.

What do they look like -

Merpeople are very focused on their looks. Their hair is really silky and flowy. They usually don't have any sharp frills or spines on their tails. They have regular human teeth, basically just humans with a very colorful tail stuck onto their torso. They live the same amount of years as sirens do, and they also get very big as they age. (Idk what else to write.)

Home -

It's kinda advanced tbh, but it's just a city with a big ass white castle smack dab in the middle of it. Their agriculture is better than the sirens since they have access to the sun (because, duh, plants need it) and an overabundance of fish since they have control over the epipelagic and mesopelagic zones. Recreational activities are held near coral reefs (if you don't know the zones, you should look them up, it'll be easier to understand). Merpeople cannot go past the Bathypelagic zone. Anything lower will be passing over to the siren's side of their territory.

Royalty -

Queen Conchata -172 year old mermaid with a glossy black and blue design on her tail.

Not much is known about the royal family after the death of King [redacted]. As per Queen Conchata's request, her life will be kept private.

OKAY I THINK I GOT EVERYTHING? I MIGHT HAVE TO COME BACK AND ADD A FEW THINGS AFTER EACH CHAPTER I DUNNO HOPE THIS CLEARS UP ANY CONFUSION. (kinda died writing at the end)

#miguel x you #spiderman atsv #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #slow burn #first time #miguel spiderverse

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