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astroboots · 9 months

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME #15 - FINALE

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: All things end.

Word count: 3,400

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous]

Traveling through Strange’s inter-dimensional portal is a different experience from going through one of Miguel’s. It’s less of a laser light show and more of a psychedelic drug trip.

Shapes and patterns warps in front of you, and the strength of gravity seems to press in against you from all sides as you fall upwards through an endless space.

You lose track of time. You don’t know how long you’ve been in here. It could be hours or seconds, but you can't tell the difference. Then it stops.

There is a gentle light ahead of you, and as you pass through it, the soft warmth of it trickles away. Then you find yourself standing in a familiar vast and empty space once again.

Staring into the far distance, the only thing you see is the blank whiteness ahead of you, just as jarring and endless as last time.

You clutch onto the pink-gemmed amulet hanging from your neck, gifted to you by Strange. A magical artifact that’s meant to help you keep your physical form in this space so you don’t fade away like you did last time.

Everything is static here, stale. There’s no air flow, no sense of temperature. The environment is neither hot nor cold against your skin, but somehow you feel an ever-present chill seeping into your bones.

Taking a deep breath, you start to walk forward.

You're shivering with each step you take. There's no sound under your step. No shadows cast under the soles of your feet.

"Boss lady,” Lyla pipes up, her hologram avatar hovering over your shoulders. “I really don't like this. Let's go back home, Beyonc�� is holding a concert in Amsterdam! I got us front row seat tickets."

It's a valiant attempt, Miguel really did a great job coding her, but you’re not going back without him. Ignoring Lyla, you continue on your path.

There’s no sign of Miguel anywhere. It's all infinite whiteness as far as the eye can see, with no signs of an end.

The last two times you were here, you didn’t have a chance to gain an understanding of how big this space is. For all you know it could be as vast and endless as the universe itself. What if you’re stuck wandering in this place for an eternity and still never find Miguel?

You walk on, eyes roaming the space, and a dull ache starts to form behind them from staring at the glaring brightness.

There! Off to your left, you finally spot… something.

Your heart leaps in your chest as you clock a disruption in the blank whiteness. A tiny disruption. Or maybe it’s just far away? The emptiness of this place is hell on your depth perception. You veer in that direction, squinting as you approach, until you’re finally close enough to make out what it is.

In the middle of the vast nothingness, there is a tiny ball of crumpled up yellowish paper floating at knee height.

Huh?

Isn't this a complete void where nothing exists or can exist? Why is there trash here?

You squat down hunching over your knees until the little paper ball is eye level and inspect it closer.

The color and thickness of the paper is familiar. It looks like a post-it note that’s been folded in half, tiny, uneven triangles sticking out at each of the four corners.

How weird.

Crumpled as it is, you can see now that the crooked folds and creases aren't all random. Looking closely, there seems to have been a failed attempt of trying to fold them in a sequence but lacking the proper hand to eye dexterity to do it properly.

Wait, is this…? It must be.

You recognize it now. It’s one of your unfortunate attempts at an origami frog from when you were killing time with Miguel at your work. But what is it doing here of all places?

Tentatively reaching out, you poke at the piece of paper. To your surprise there’s resistance.

That's... odd.

There's nothing else here. Nothing holding it.

Just the failed paper frog suspended in thin air.

You try again, grabbing a corner of the paper this time, but the results are the same. It stubbornly refuses to move. When you tug, it jerks back, away from you.

Squinting your eyes, you lean closer and carefully observe the space in front of you.

Now when you’re paying close attention, you can just about make out a vague, almost invisible outline.

It’s barely there, and you can only tell because the blank whiteness in front of you seems to warp slightly with the smallest tremor of a movement.

Whatever this is, it really doesn’t want you to take your piece of trash back from it.

You frown in annoyance. This doesn't make sense. Why would your poor deformed paper frog even be here? The only people who even had anything to do with the stupid thing are you and–

"Miguel?"

The movement stills at your voice.

When you don't look away, it seems spooked by your gaze, shirking at the attention. The thing shifts in its shape, shrinking down like it's trying to make itself smaller.

You try to move closer, and the obscure translucent form moves away from you, gliding seamlessly into the empty space.

Without a shape it takes you a few moments before you register its movement and what it's trying to do. It's moving fast, as if it's trying to flee from you.

Because it is. Shit!

You run after it, guided by the vague hazy contour against the nothingness that surrounds you. Even without legs, this shapeless thing is moving fast.

"Stop!" you shout, "Stop, stop, please stop! It's me!"

You leap forward, grabbing at the empty outline in front of you, and to your surprise find purchase on the nothingness under your grip.

"Miguel, stop running!" you shout.

It does. He does.

There is something there now, a semi-invisible mass, slightly more opaque than it was a second ago.

You open your mouth to speak, but you don't know what to say. Don't even know for certain that this is Miguel or not.

But you hope it is. Have to believe it is. You’re too desperate to overthink it, and you spout the first thing that comes into your head.

"Come back, Miguel. Come back, and I'll take you back to that cheap Chinese diner you liked so much. We can get all the food you want, all of it deep fried! I'll even share the egg tarts this time."

You think you see something shift before you. It could just be your imagination, but the tiniest speck of color seems to emerge from within the translucent mass.

Somehow, whatever you’re doing must be working, and you quickly try to think of what else you can say that will tempt him to come back.

Food. Maybe more about food will work? It worked for you, after all.

"The Reese buttercups in our other apartment are all expired, but I think they'd still be okay to eat, and– and– And I'll make you cookies if you come back! Blue spiderman ones that match your suit."

The speck of color pops, fading into thin air, your fingers sinking further into the nothingness of his form, and a spike of panic stabs through your chest.

Why isn’t it working!? Was it not the food that made him react after all? You don’t know what else to try.

That first time you were here, Miguel was able to bring you back to yourself with the intimate details he knew from the other lifetime you two had shared. Maybe you can do the same.

"Your name is Miguel O'hara," you start, "and- and-" And then you have to stop, not sure of what else to say. "And your eyes are red... for some reason. And you have fangs! Fangs that can deliver some kind of fucking paralysis venom, which is completely ridiculous by the way!"

Nothing happens. There’s no change save for that the form underneath you squirms and tries to get away from your grip.

"And... and..."

Shit. This is getting you nowhere.

Unlike Miguel, you haven't had the front seat experience of living a lifetime together with him. There's only so much you know about him. Because that man is more secretive than a CIA agent.

You bite down on your lip in frustration.

"Goddamnit, Miguel! I barely know anything about you because you never tell me shit!"

The shape underneath you stops wiggling underneath you.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you gather yourself, then you reopen them again, staring up at the upper part of the half-invisible shape like he's standing in front of you.

There's no point in trying to beat Miguel at a game of knowledge. You will never win. You never got to learn or memorize every personal and intimate detail about the man and his life. But there's one thing that you know beyond any doubt.

"I miss you," you tell him.

Strokes of soft colors streaks through the translucent mass at your words. A gentle blossoming spreads and you can see the opaque material reform inch by inch, until it vaguely resembles the silhouette of a body.

"I can’t even eat without you around, which has never happened to me before. I’ve been able to eat through food poisoning. But now the cupcakes from Gladis remind me of you and how you're not here, and they taste like cardboard."

He feels firmer somehow, more solid, and there’s even the faintest trace of warmth under your fingertips. Hope flutters in your chest at the change, and you tighten your grip on him.

“I miss you. More than I ever thought it could be possible to miss someone."

You can faintly make out limbs and shoulders, and the outline of a head.

"I miss falling asleep next to you. It's too quiet without your snoring, and the bed is too big without you there."

The body grows taller, and you can see the familiar tan of his skin now, the line of his jaw and the sharp angle of his nose re-materializing before your eyes.

"I miss watching you eat three dozen tacos in one sitting, scaring the tables around us. I miss having you with me and getting to talk to you, or even just sitting next to you doing nothing.”

You lean up towards him, raised on the tip of your toes, until you're up against him. “I just want you to be here with me. Please come back," you whisper into him.

Then he's there. Right in front of you, large and firm and warm as he towers above you, forehead pressed against yours, in your arms.

He’s here. Miguel is here.

His hair is a soft tousled mess. Eyes warm and hazy as he slowly blinks them open like he's just woken up from a hibernation while he gazes down on your face in an intimate silence.

It doesn’t last for very long. His gaze sharpens, blinking in rapid succession as confusion bleeds into his face. You can see the exact moment that consciousness and awareness fully return to him. Because he steps back from you, red eyes burning with an angry determination.

"What are you doing here?" he snarls at you.

Because of course he does. Of course anger is his first reaction at seeing you here.

"You can't be here," he says.

You don't even get a word in before Miguel reaches for your wrist.

"Lyla!" he barks out, and there’s a ping on your arm in response.

"Lyla, stand down," you command, smacking your palm over the face of the dial before the hologram can pop up. You already know that the next words out of his mouth will be a command to whisk you away again if you let him speak.

His lips twist into a frustrated snarl. Eyes glowing with that red fury that you recognize by now as the beginnings of an anger tantrum.

“Why don't you get it? I need to do this," he seethes, gesturing at the void, "I have to disappear. For your sake! It's my fault. I'm the reason you keep dying. I’m killing you!”

“That’s not true! You saved me! You caught me when I fell off the Chrysler building—twice!—and–”

“That doesn’t matter!” he snarls, rounding on you, “Don’t you understand!? You’re still going to die! If I'm with you, you die.”

There’s a moment of resounding silence, and you watch as the anger bleeds away from Miguel’s face, leaving something else in its place.

Something like grief.

“I can’t– I can’t do that again,” he says quietly, and he looks so sad that it damn near breaks your heart.

“Miguel…”

You don’t know what to say in the face of such raw and obvious grief. Until… suddenly, you do.

“Whether you're here or not, I could still die, Miguel."

Your words seem to hit him like a blow, and he flinches back, his eyes going round and liquid, open mouth quivering for a moment before it pulls right into a hard downturned line.

"Even if you were gone, there still wouldn’t be any guarantees," you say.

You brush your hand alongside his, trying to hold his hand in yours but he draws it away.

"You could save me by erasing yourself from existence and tomorrow a bus driver that isn't paying attention might hit me and I'd die anyhow," you continue, and he flinches visibly. "You can't control these things, and I would rather be with you and take the chance and be happy until it happens."

His hand balls up in agitation at his side. "I– I just don't want you to die again," he says, helplessness bleeding through every syllable of his words.

Your heart aches at his obvious pain. All you want, all you've ever wanted is to make that pain a little bit smaller. You step forward closing the distance between you, and he doesn't back away or move from you this time.

“Everybody dies. Regardless of what happens here I will too someday. But you’ve given me extra time. You did that. You saved me, again and again. And I’m so happy that you did. That I got to have that time with you. To share donuts with you in bed, or fold post-its frogs in the office."

His eyes close tightly, and he gives a slight shake of his head, grief and denial warring in his features. “None of that matters if you don’t survive,” he says quietly.

“You say it doesn’t matter, but it does, Miguel. Those moments matter to me. And even if we die here in this stupid video game loading screen, or if we make it out of here, but something else gets me, it will still matter to me.”

There's no telling if your grand speech is actually getting through to him because he's still not looking at you or meeting your eyes. You grab at his shoulder for his attention. It's all you can do to not shake him and rattle him until he accepts what you are trying to tell him.

"I want to be with you, and even if you can’t save me in the end, that's okay. I just want to be with you for as long as I can. However long or short of a time that is, I won’t have any regrets as long as I get to spend it with you. I told you, didn’t I? Every me in every universe would say the same, given a choice."

He doesn’t respond this time and part of you feels like you’re talking to a besieged wall. Reaching up, you cup his cheeks in your hands and pull his face down to meet your eyes.

“How many other universes are out there where those versions of us never get to know each other at all? …Thousands? …Millions? We’re the lucky ones, Miguel. We got to meet, and we have a chance against all odds. So what if it means we have to jump through a few hoops and universes to be together?”

His eyes open fully at your words, and lock on your face. You think you can see the cracks in his defenses. His hands unfurl and twitch at his sides as if he’s fighting himself to reach for you.

"I love you,” you tell him, and his lips part with a slight tremble.

You’re running out of things to say that can convince him now. The only thing that’s left is for Miguel to make the choice.

Your hand slides down from his face, and he looks distraught at the loss of contact as you take one small step back and away from him.

"Let's try to be happy this time," you tell him.

Reaching out your hand towards him, you try your best to smile through your nervousness, hoping that he is going to say yes to you this time despite his trademark stubbornness that you’ve come to love and hate sometimes.

Miguel looks at your hand, hesitation carved into every shade of red in those eyes. His hand flexes by his side, but doesn’t move.

He’s still unsure, and hope falls flat in your chest at the thought that he might very well make the choice to stay and destroy himself despite how much you don’t want him to.

But then he nods, and your heart begins to sing.

Tentative as it may be, his arm still reaches out towards you, fingers seeking out yours and he takes your hand.

"Yeah," he answers quietly. “Let’s be happy.”

Your smile grows wider, eyes watery as your vision blur around the edges when you look up at him. Happiness blossoming in your chest until it feels so full you think your ribs might burst from it.

You squeeze down on his larger hands in yours, to reassure yourself that he is really here, with you. And he is.

"Lyla," you say, and your watch pings at your command, before Lyla’s face lights up the space above.

"Good to have you back with us, boss," she says with a salute in Miguel’s direction. “Where to now?”

“Lyla,” he acknowledges with a faint smile and a nod, but he doesn’t look away from your face. "Do the thing. Take us home. Home-home."

Warm amber light rises up to surround you both, and Miguel pulls you into his chest. A kaleidoscope of colors explodes before your eyes, swirling around the two of you as he holds you in his arms.

You can't stop smiling at him, grinning like an idiot, as you tilt up to press your forehead to his.

Reality reforms around you, specks of navy-blue filling the large and vast sky. You're standing on the rooftop of a tall building surrounded by the skyline of brightly lit skyscrapers, a labyrinth of levitating bridges and streets laid out beneath. Floating vehicles buzz and soar through the sky like flamboyant dragonflies. Below your feet there is an ocean of dotted neon lights and colorful hologram billboards filling every inch and corner of the city below.

This must be Miguel's home dimension. What did he call it? Earth-3000-something? Nueva York, he said, and it certainly looks new—bright and fantastical, like nothing you’ve ever known before—but you only have eyes for the man in front of you.

Miguel pulls back slightly, squeezing down on your hand.

"So what do we do now? As long as I exist, the universe will still be out to get you," he says.

Despite the bleakness of the picture he’s painting, his eyes are soft and there’s something that sounds like hope in his tone.

You smile at him, eyes narrowing against the bright neon lights of the tall towering buildings around you.

"We live,” you answer, “Together. As long as we can. I hear you're some kind of genius scientist or something. I'm sure we'll think of something fun to do in the infinite multiverse."

“What do you want to do first?” he asks.

“Sleep.”

He's smiling at you, the corners of his fangs peeking out against his lower lip, eyes squinting in a way that makes him look almost boyish.

The sight of it makes your cheeks warm pleasantly and affection blossoms endlessly in your chest for him.

This isn’t the end, but if it were, it feels like it's a good one this time. Miguel walks out towards the ledge of the building, turning back to reach out his hand to you.

"Let’s go, Cielito."

[Nueva York, Earth 928-C]

The end.

Credit and Dedication: One final time, this is dedicated to @thirstworldproblemss who is my muse, my partner-in-writing-&-brainstorming, who makes writing so much more fun everyday.

And then of course. To everyone of you. We are finally here. Thank you for coming on this journey with me. I want to thank everyone who has followed along in this story this entire time. Writing Every You Every Me has been one of the most joyous writing experiences I've had. That is largely because of you guys! Thank you for every heartfelt feedback you guys have left here, thank you for coming into my asks, thank you for clicking that little heart on the bottom letting me know you've read it and for the lurkers who has followed along all the while, thank you for taking the time to read this story of mine! Having this audience has made me grow so much as a writer. Having your company while I wrote this has brought me so much joy. Reading everyone's reactions and theories has been a privilege that not a lot of writers get in the process of writing a multi-chaptered story. Thank you so so much.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse #marvel mcu #marvel #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderverse fanfiction

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kallie-den · 6 months

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Rabbit Hunt

After passing through a fey portal, Raine meets a strange fairy baroness who insists on hosting a rabbit hunt - and insists that Raine be the rabbit. Raine tries to refuse, but the Baroness's magical maze isn't so easily beaten…

Kind of a weird old story of mine I realized I hadn't posted yet. It's got predatory fey, bunnygirl TF, hunter/prey play, and petplay, and hopefully all that wrapped up in a little fantasy-horror package sounds good! Happy Halloween!

If you like my writing, please consider supporting me on Patreon! For less than the price of a cup of coffee each month, you can get immediate, early access to everything I write - along with exclusive stories and the ability to vote on what I write next. Your support helps me keep writing and is greatly appreciated <3

---

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” said the Baroness to Raine, in a polite, soft, lilting, richly-accented voice. The tall, ethereal fey had introduced herself as nothing more or less than ‘The Baroness’. “Would you care to give me your name?”

“Sure,” Raine replied automatically. “It’s Raine.”

She froze.

She was talking to a fey. This was the fey realm. That was the only explanation. She’d been walking home from work, and as she often did, had taken a small detour to walk through the edges of the big, old forest that surrounded her hometown. Entirely by chance, she’d noticed something a little deeper into the woods. An unusually large, unusually colorful ring of toadstools. Raine had been sure it hadn’t been there the day before, and so, curious, she’d decided to investigate. Reaching down to briefly touch one of the odd, white-and-red spotted mushrooms, she’d felt herself suddenly pulled forward by something, as if she was somehow falling into the ground.

The fall had left her dizzy and disoriented, but when she came to, she found she was somewhere very different. She wasn’t in a forest anymore. She appeared to be standing in the grounds of a very large, very grand mansion. There was no sign of where she had arrived from, or how, but behind her was a vast hedge maze that seemed to stretch on all the way to the horizon, and in front of her was a little flower garden with a long dining table running its whole length. And that was where she’d met the Baroness, sitting on a silver throne at the head of the table.

And now she’d given the fey her name.

In Raine’s part of the world, tales and stories of the fey folk were everywhere. She’d been raised on them. There were many, many different myths and legends, but a common thread running through all of them was a set of very simple rules that you were meant to follow if you ever found yourself dealing with a fairy.

One: don’t tell them a lie, lest it become the truth. Two: don’t play pretend, lest it become reality. And three: never, ever give them your name.

She had just broken the third rule.

“Could you tell me that one more time, pretty girl?” the Baroness asked sweetly.

“It’s… it’s…” the girl who had been Raine opened her mouth to answer, but she suddenly found herself drawing a blank. “W-why can’t I remember my name?” she asked out loud, suddenly panicked.

“Oh, well, that’s because it’s not your name anymore, silly.” The Baroness laughed indulgently. “And when you give something to someone, it isn’t yours anymore. It’s theirs. Don’t you see? ‘Raine’ isn’t your name now. It’s mine.”

“Raine…” the girl breathed. At first, she felt like the name meant something to her, but it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel as familiar and fitting as it once had. And within moments, she forgot it again, the word ‘Raine’ slipping through her mind like water slipping through her fingers.

“Don’t worry, pet,” the Baroness said comfortingly, although the sinister, too-wide grin on her face was anything but comforting. “I’m sure you’ll find a new one, sooner or later. But for now, why don’t you join me? I was just about to indulge in a little hunting, you see.”

“I-”

“No, wait,” the Baroness interrupted. “You will join me on my hunt. I insist on it. And you see, this is my house, so I’m afraid you really don’t have much choice in the matter.”

“I, um, w-what?” The girl was too confused to argue. She had lost her name and she was feeling a strange weakness in the face of the Baroness’s words, like the fey’s presence alone was sapping her willpower. “W-what are we hunting?” she asked absent-mindedly.

“Oh no.” The Baroness wagged a finger. “Not we. You’ll be joining me, but not as a fellow hunter. You, my dear girl, will be my quarry.”

“What?” The girl spat, alarmed.

The Baroness ignored her obvious panic. “The only question is,” the fey mused, “what will you be? Let me get a proper look at you.”

The tall, slender fey darted lithely towards the girl, circling her a little too close for comfort and occasionally reaching out to prod or grab at her. The girl was frozen to the spot with terror, captivated and held helpless by the Baroness’s strange aura. She couldn’t fathom why the fey seemed so interested in her, and so eager to carefully inspect her body. What was there to see? The girl was tall, with a thick, messy mop of auburn hair. She had an athletic build; in college she’d been on the track and field team, and since graduating she’d kept in the habit of exercising and running. Her strong, toned thighs and wide hips were the only things that really made her stand out. But the Baroness seemed fascinated by every little detail of her form. The girl felt uncomfortably like a piece of livestock being sized up for slaughtering. But what could she do? Run? She had a feeling she couldn’t escape the Baroness, and besides, where could she run to?

There was little more the girl could do than try to study the Baroness in return, hoping to get a sense of her strange host and what she might be capable of. The powerful fey was far more unnerving than most of the fairies the girl had read about in her childhood stories. She looked human, almost, but from up close there were a hundred tiny, uncanny details that gave her away. She was exceptionally tall, at least seven feet, and a little too slender and willowy for any mortal being. Her fingernails were too long, her skin too pale, and her teeth too sharp. Her eyes were the biggest giveaway. They simmered with a sinister red-purple glow, and looking at them for too long gave the girl a throbbing headache. When she met the Baroness’s uncomfortably piercing gaze, she thought she could see huge, insectoid wings unfolding from the fey’s back, but when she looked, there was nothing. The Baroness was an impossible creature.

The fey’s manner of dress was just as peculiar. She was wearing what appeared to be a very long Victorian tailcoat, dark green in color, and with a very tight fit that only accentuated the Baroness’s sleek, subtle feminine form. Her hair was red as flame, and tied up in elaborate braids. Underneath the tailcoat was a ruffled dress shirt and a smart pair of trousers. Curiously, the Baroness was barefoot, although her feet seemed untouched by dirt or grub. She really did look like something out of a strange old fairytale - the kind that gave you nightmares, even if they weren’t supposed to. Around the Baroness’s neck was a large pendant made of silver, in the form of a complex Celtic knot. It was beautiful. The girl quickly found herself staring at it. The more she stared, the more she noticed all kinds of little details and pleasing patterns in the way the small threads of silver were interwoven. It was entrancing. Hypnotic. It-

“A rabbit!” the Baroness suddenly announced.

“What?” the girl asked, surprised.

“You’ll be a fine rabbit.”

“I’m not a rabbit!”

“Don’t be so hasty,” the Baroness admonished.

“Um… s-sorry,” the girl apologized, suddenly embarrassed.

“That’s more like it.” The Baroness smiled, showing teeth. “A rabbit hunt! Oh, I’m going to have such fun. When shall we get started?”

“Wait, I-”

“Right now? Of course! No time like the present, after all. Not that it really matters, here. It’s always the present, isn’t it?” The Baroness laughed. It was an incredibly unnerving sound. “Well, off you go! Get running!”

“What?” The girl was so confused, and she’d had enough. She needed to put her foot down somewhere. She needed to find a way home. That wasn’t going to happen if she kept playing along with this ridiculous charade. She found the Baroness oddly difficult to resist, but she needed to try. She’d already lost her name, and she didn’t want to lose anything more. “No! No, I’m not going to be part of this… this hunt. I refuse to do whatever you tell me. I’m staying right here until you send me home!”

The Baroness pouted; an absurd affectation on such a tall, ethereal creature. But then, she smiled again. “Well… suit yourself, I suppose.” The Baroness turned back to the dining table, and picked up something. It was something the girl hadn’t taken notice of before. A spear. It wasn’t quite like anything she had ever seen before. Its shaft was long and twisting, and the blade looked like it was made of shattered, sparkling glass. But there was no doubt it was wickedly sharp, and as the Baroness held it aloft in a practiced grip and turned back to the girl, there could be no doubt what it was for either. “But in that case, it will be a terribly short and boring hunt.”

The girl started backing away, eyes wide. She’d already been plenty scared, but now she was utterly terrified. The Baroness grinned at her fear.

“Go on, run!” the fey commanded. “Run for me, little rabbit girl. Run, run, run!”

The nameless girl turned and fled for her life. Heading away from the Baroness, there was nowhere for her to run to except the vast, dark, endless hedge maze stretching out before her. It scared her too, but she had no choice. With panic lending her speed, she plunged headlong into its abyssal depths, and in moments, she was lost.

***

Left. Right. Left. Left. Right. Left. Right. Right. Right. The girl sprinted and darted through the twisting passages of the maze, taking each turn according to nothing more than her instincts. Which, she was fully aware, meant she was essentially running around at random. It probably wasn’t wise, but she wasn’t sure what else she could do. Wasn’t there some kind of rule for getting out of a maze? Always follow the left-hand wall? Something like that? But the problem was, the girl wasn’t sure if she even wanted to escape. Wouldn’t that take her back towards the Baroness’s manor? She had no way of knowing if there was a way out on the other side, or anything hidden in the center. Besides, she’d already become convinced that any true navigation was impossible. The maze didn’t seem to obey consistent physical laws. More than once, she’d felt certain she was looping back around to somewhere she’d been before only to end up somewhere completely new, or had been heading in a perfectly straight line and found herself back at a familiar crossroads. For all she knew, the Baroness had enchanted the maze to make sure her rabbit hunt had a single, inevitable outcome.

Why a rabbit hunt? Why had the Baroness insisted she would be a rabbit? The girl was so scared she could barely think, but she still couldn’t stop turning that question over in her mind. A rabbit? She wasn’t anything like a rabbit. Was she? Sure, she’d heard a few cracks about it before. Quite a lot, come to think of it. She’d always loved eating carrots, and she’d always been particularly good at athletics events like the long jump and high jump. But that didn’t mean anything, and besides, the Baroness didn’t know anything about that. Did she? It was hard to tell, when she was dealing with such a strange creature. Given the kinds of stories she’d heard, it didn’t seem impossible. But the girl only knew one thing for sure: she needed to hold on to her humanity. She didn’t want to lose more than just her name.

It was proving difficult, though, to focus on anything at all. The twisting passageways of the hedge maze were somehow hypnotic, and at every turn, the girl had to think about the Baroness, who was surely right on her tail. She kept hearing ominous sounds from all around her: footsteps, leaves rustling, twigs snapping underfoot. It was hard to be sure they were real, and even harder to judge how close they might be, but each sound filled the girl with fresh terror and spurred her onwards. She had no time to think, no time to plan. She just had to run.

“Oh, hello there!”

The girl wheeled around at the voice, terrified the Baroness had found her. But no. Without realizing it, she’d stumbled into some kind of small, brightly lit clearing. And she wasn’t alone there. Sitting at a small table, just a few paces away from her, was another fey. A pixie. They too were slight and slender, although unlike the Baroness they were very small. They wore a pretty summer dress, and had two pairs of dragonfly wings folded on their back as they sat, daintily sipping at a porcelain teacup.

“Um… hello?” The girl was reluctant to stop running, but she needed a moment to catch her breath. Besides, this pixie didn’t seem as threatening as the Baroness. “Could you tell me where we are?”

“I’m afraid not.” The pixie had the same kind of strange, lilting voice as the Baroness, although much higher-pitched. “I don’t know either, you see.”

“You’re lost too?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say so.” The pixie seemed bemused by the suggestion. “I’m quite content here.”

“Right,” the girl said, after a long pause. “Well, um, I need to be going now. Please don’t tell the Baroness you saw me.”

“You’re her new pet? The rabbit?” The pixie looked at her with fresh interest. “Not yet, I suppose.”

“Um…” Pet?

“You must be having a tough time,” the pixie said sympathetically.

“I… yes,” the girl admitted. Sympathy was the last thing she’d expected. “She’s… she’s right on my heels! At least I think she is. It’s hard to tell.”

“Well, of course it is!” the pixie exclaimed. “You’ve no hope at all, the way you are now. You need better hearing! That way, you can hear her coming.”

“That would actually be pretty nice,” the girl agreed. If she could tell where the Baroness was coming from, she might be able to keep her at arms’ length.

“Want me to help you out with that?” the pixie offered.

“Would you? Yes please!” The moment the words left the girl’s lips, she realized what a horrible mistake she’d made. “No, wait, I didn’t-”

The pixie, ignoring her protests, raised a hand and snapped her fingers. The change was instant. The nameless girl reached up in shock as she felt two big, floppy rabbit ears sprout from the sides of her head. They were over six inches long and hung around her shoulders, and the soft fuzz covering them, the same shade of rich brown as her hair, was impressively soft and velvety. The girl, though, wasn’t really able to appreciate them. She was horrified. She couldn’t see her own reflection, but she could only imagine how ridiculous she must look. More importantly, though, it was clear the Baroness’s promise was already coming true. ‘You’ll be a fine rabbit’, the fey had said. The girl was beginning to worry she’d been speaking very literally.

“You… fix me!” the girl yelled, after a few moments spent turning her head this way and that, trying to inspect her new ears. But there was no reply, and when the girl looked up, she found that she was alone once more. The pixie had vanished. The girl grit her teeth. Then, though, she heard footsteps, much louder than ever before. She didn’t have time to waste searching for a mischievous pixie. The Baroness was still coming for her. She’d already rested too long. The girl picked the first passage she saw, and ran into it as fast as her legs could carry her.

As she sprinted deeper into the maze, though, the girl noticed something. Her hearing really was better. All the half-heard noises that had troubled her before resolved themselves into a clear map of every little thing happening around her. It wasn’t a comforting picture. She could hear the footsteps of something; something she was sure was the Baroness. It wasn’t far away, and it was stalking her with unnerving precision. Still, the girl felt better for knowing. At least she could be reasonably sure her hunter wasn’t lurking around each and every corner. That brought her a measure of calm, and oddly, so did her hearing itself. Despite her distress at her new, animalistic ears, it was proving easy for her to lean into her new, heightened senses. The girl found she could immerse herself in the world around her, becoming one with all those small noises and letting instinct carry her away from danger, and allowing the loud and anxious parts of her mind to grow quiet. It was nice, especially under the circumstances, but the girl was wary of it. She’d noticed the odd, rabbit-like way she tended to twitch from side to side in response to sounds when she let herself sink a little too deep into that headspace.

The girl’s supernatural hearing, though, didn’t prevent her from turning another corner and finding herself in another clearing, just like the first. She narrowed her eyes and searched around for another pixie. She hadn’t heard anything, but sure enough, there was one. This second pixie appeared to be playing a small game of croquet on a tiny little lawn. The girl shook her head in disbelief. How hadn’t she heard anything?

“Hello there!” the pixie called out in a jolly, lilting voice. “You must be the Baroness’s new rabbit.”

“I’m not a rabbit!” the girl replied indignantly.

The pixie giggled. “With those ears? I think that’s a bit of a foolish thing to say, silly rabbit.”

The girl grit her teeth. “Whatever. I’ll be on my way.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” The pixie nodded her head sympathetically. “She must be giving you a hard time.”

“She is.” The girl turned her head left and right, listening out carefully. She could hear rustling, but it wasn’t close. “I… I don’t know how she’s tracking me. Do you know the way out of here? I need to get back home.”

“Hmm.” The pixie stroked their chin, thinking for a moment. “I’m afraid not. I don’t know how she’s tracking you either. She’s an awfully good hunter. I suppose you’ll just have to go faster.”

“Yeah, I guess,” the girl agreed, disappointed.

“Hey!” the pixie said brightly. “Want me to help you with that?”

“Oh, can you?” the girl asked eagerly. She was getting awfully tired, and she didn’t want her speed to start flagging. “Yes, please. Although… wait, no. No, please don-”

It was too late. The pixie had already snapped her fingers. The girls started immediately looking herself up and down. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen. For a moment, she thought she’d somehow escaped the pixie’s curse. But then she felt it; a gentle but insistent warmth in her lower body. At first, it was hard to pinpoint, but more and more it coalesced in her thighs and her hips. And then they started to grow. The girl initially thought her clothes were changing, as her leggings felt as though they were getting tighter and tighter. But she soon realized that in fact, her thighs and hips were expanding, swelling with new muscle and fresh, soft curves. Her ass, too, started expanding out behind her, and within moments her leggings were ripping apart at the seams, quickly shredded to tatters by her growing body. The girl had always had a pretty slender, athletic build, but that was rapidly changing. Her metamorphosis took mere seconds, and by the end her physique was hopelessly bottom-heavy. Her new proportions weren’t quite extreme enough to be called cartoonish, but they were close. She certainly didn’t look like a runner anymore.

“You! I’m gonna-” The girl looked up, but predictably enough, the pixie was gone. “I’m gonna strangle the next one of those I see,” she vowed.

Experimentally, she reached down to run her hands over her new body. It was incredibly soft and curvaceous. She had the kind of ass and hips people drooled over. Beneath the softness, though, she could feel that her legs had become incredibly powerful. Underneath a layer of pleasing, masterfully sculpted fat was pure, taut muscle. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all, the girl mused. Then a gust of wind blew through the maze, and she shivered. If only her transformation hadn’t shredded her clothes. She had an odd feeling that pixie was still lurking somewhere nearby, leering at her nudity. At least her top half was still covered. But that was just one more reason to move on quickly. The rustling leaves were growing closer, and she had no more time to waste. Once more, the girl picked a path, and started running.

She quickly found, though, that she couldn’t run. Not like before. Her new body simply wasn’t suited for it. The kind of runner’s gait she’d long since committed to muscle memory simply didn’t allow for such massive, curvy thighs. The girl groaned in frustration. The pixie had promised to help her, but what help were these new legs if she couldn’t run on them? Then, though, she remembered how well her new ears seemed to work when she let instinct take over. Perhaps her new body was the same. The girl took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and just tried to move forward in whatever way felt most natural.

She hopped.

At least, it was something like a hop. Instead of placing one foot in front of the other, the girl pressed her feet together and coiled her thighs, before extending both her legs at once to propel herself forward. The speed at which she moved took her by surprise, and threatened to send her toppling over forwards. But, just barely, she was able to keep her balance. The girl was astonished. Her new body was incredible! With speed like this, she could easily leave any of her track and field rivals in the dirt - assuming she ever made it home. With that thought held firm in her mind, she picked a direction and started hopping.

The hedge maze around her became a blur as she sped through it, much faster than before. The nameless girl was amazed. Despite her situation, she couldn’t help but grin. She was riding high on adrenaline. She was so fast! And with her enhanced hearing, she could be sure to stay clear of danger Maybe she could win this hunt after all. Maybe. The girl didn’t want to get carried away. She knew there was something darker at work here. The transformations she’d been offered were beckoning her, tempting her with unfamiliar, animal instincts. She needed to hold back. She didn’t want to become the Baroness’s rabbit. She could only imagine what she already looked like, hopping around on her huge thighs with her long ears flopping around her shoulders. It was ridiculous. But she was hopeful she could hold on to her own identity - just as long as she didn’t make any more silly agreements with pixies.

She hopped out into another clearing.

“Ugh!” the girl groaned in frustration. There was no way she was talking to another pixie. Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be one around. In the clearing, there was nothing but a small tree. The girl was already hurrying forward, deeper into the maze, when a high-pitched voice took her by surprise and made her stumble.

“Leaving so soon?”

Once she was back on her feet, the girl looked up. Nestled amongst the branches of the tree was, as she’d been dreading, another pixie.

The girl’s instinct was simply to run. She’d learned her lesson. A pixie meant danger, and she should run from danger. Nice and simple. Instinctive. But as she made to hop off, the pixie addressed her again:

“You know, you don’t seem very steady on those legs of yours! If you’re to be the Baroness’s new rabbit, you’ll need that sorted. Why don’t I offer you something to help you with your balance?”

“No!” the girl snapped, very firmly. “No thank you! No! Nope! Not wanted!”

“No?” The pixie raised a tiny eyebrow. “Are you telling me you don’t want to be able to balance better?”

“Well of course I want that!” the girl said, exasperated. “But I don’t- wait, no I didn’t mean that! I-”

The pixie snapped their fingers, and the girl grew a tail.

It was a short, floppy, incredibly fluffy little bunny tail, sprouting from the base of her spine to nestle comfortably against her newly-rounded ass. The girl groaned in despair. How did this keep happening to her? She looked up at the tree, determined to climb it and throttle the pixie no matter how long it took, but predictably enough, they were gone. The girl sighed. Despite all her protests, it seemed she was becoming more and more rabbit with each passing moment. It wasn’t just her body; she could feel the changes in her mind too. Her thoughts were growing simpler. More animal-like. Now she had a tail, it was sure to get even worse. But what could she do? Nothing more, she decided, than keep running, deeper and deeper into the maze.

Much as she was loathe to admit it, once she started hopping again, the girl found that her tail was quite the asset. Short though it was, it was just enough to let her counterbalance her new, hopping gait, allowing her to move faster still without placing herself at risk of toppling over if she misjudged a single hop. With that danger remedied, the girl found she was able to take joy in the simple act of hopping around. She knew she was still in danger, but some part of her derived a strange thrill from how fast she could move, and how at one with her new body she felt. She was reluctant to plunge into the headspace, but she found herself slipping deeper and deeper towards it, as the simple, primal joy of racing and running quenched her old, increasingly distant anxieties and fears about losing her humanity. She still knew she needed to get home, but she’d already determined that to do that, she needed to run and hop, and that was so much easier to think about. All she needed to do was run, and run, and run, and run, and run, and-

The girl hit a dead end.

She turned back, and found herself frantically looking left and right. There were no ways out, just a long passageway leading back the way she’d just come. And she could hear close footsteps. The Baroness’s footsteps. The girl panicked, and cursed herself. She’d been so caught up in her transformation, she’d run right into a hopeless dead end - just like an animal into a trap. There was nothing more she could do than try and run back the way she came. The girl set off as fast as she could - only to turn a single corner and find herself face-to-face with the Baroness.

“Hello there, little rabbit,” the Baroness said in a sing-song voice, looming over her. “I must say, you’re coming along very nicely.”

The girl started backing away in fear, even though she knew she had nowhere to go. The Baroness followed, pressing in on her with ease, her spear hefted in her hand.

“L-l-leave me alone!” the girl whimpered, as she pressed her back up against the thick, impenetrable hedge behind her.

“Didn’t I tell you that you’d make a fine rabbit?” the Baroness purred, the too-wide grin on her face growing wider with each passing moment. “So fine, in fact, that I think it would be a waste to simply dispatch you. No… I think I’ll keep you.”

“Keep me?!” the girl cried out in a shrill voice. She wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. She didn’t want to be hunted, but she didn’t want to be anybody’s pet. Least of all this sinister fey’s.

“Is that so terrible a fate? I assure you, I can be a kind mistress,” the Baroness replied, as if sensing the girl’s thoughts. “But if you’re to be my pet, I’ll have to give you a name, won’t I?”

“I have a name!” the girl insisted weakly. “It’s… it’s…” She couldn’t remember.

The Baroness ignored her protests, musing to herself. “Oh, I’ve never been any good with names. Let’s stick with something simple… Bunny! Your name is Bunny.”

“N-no it’s not!” Bunny protested, but already, the name was taking hold of her. It clung to her like a spider’s web, no matter how hard she tried to reject it. Her name was… what? If she only had a different name to hold on to it might have been easier, but she didn’t, and so ‘Bunny’ rushed in to fill the void. It proved slippery, sneaking into her memories and inserting itself into her identity in unexpected ways. She tried to isolate it, focusing on the fact that the Baroness had christened her ‘Bunny’ mere moments ago, only to find that she could remember all sorts of people calling her that. She could hear it in her parents’ voices, in her sister’s voice, and in the voices of all her friends. She tried to picture her old high school book; in her mind’s eye, ‘Bunny’ was the name written under the photo She was… Bunny. That was her name. Bunny.

“There. Isn’t that better?” the Baroness asked, her voice suddenly soft. “Poor, confused Bunny. Running around in my little maze, not even knowing who you are. It’s OK. You’re safe now.”

Bunny didn’t feel safe, but already, the Baroness’s enchanting aura was beginning to affect her. Clear thought was becoming difficult. She wanted to flee, and since that was impossible, she was simply frozen like a deer in headlights.

“Here. See?” the Baroness continued, slowly setting her spear down on the ground. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll take very good care of you, my rabbit.”

“I’m not a rabbit! I’m not!” Bunny protested.

“No?” the ethereal Baroness cocked her head to one side. “But, my sweet pet, aren’t you called Bunny? That seems like a very strange name for someone who’s not a rabbit, don’t you think?”

“But… but…” Bunny balled her fists at the unfairness of it, and how hard she was finding it to argue back. Her name was Bunny. That was a rabbit’s name. Sure, it was the Baroness who had named her that, but that didn’t change the fact that it was now her name. That much was undeniable. How was she supposed to argue she was human with a name like that?

“Still thinking like a person? Oh, we can’t have that,” the Baroness tutted. “Allow me to fix that for you.”

“Wha-”

Before Bunny could shrink out of the way, the Baroness’s hand darted out to rest at the side of Bunny’s head. At the fey’s surprisingly gentle touch, Bunny froze, allowing the Baroness to slowly stroke all the way along Bunny’s new, floppy rabbit ears.

Bunny melted.

The girl’s whole body melted. The feeling was indescribable. Shivers ran all across her skin, and turned her muscles to jelly. Bunny felt like her legs were going to collapse underneath her. Her instincts suddenly betrayed her, and she could herself leaning into the Baroness’s touch, nuzzling her ears into her fey captor’s hand in search of more. The sensation was bliss, pure and simple. She’d had no idea her new ears were so sensitive, and even though she knew full well the Baroness was using this new weakness to bring her under her spell, she couldn’t make herself hate it. Not when it felt so good.

“There, there,” the Baroness soothed, her seductive words slipping into Bunny’s helpless ears. “Isn’t this better? Good girl. Good rabbit.”

Bunny shivered. Why? Was she so weak to this?

“Don’t you want this?” the Baroness continued, in her soft, lilting, simpering whisper. “Don’t you want me to pet you like this each and every day? Of course you do, little rabbit. You could have that. You could be mine.”

“N-noooo,” Bunny moaned. She hated how deeply tempted she was.

“No?” the Baroness drew her hand over Bunny’s head in a leisurely manner, before starting to stroke her other ear. Bunny’s bliss doubled. “Aww, I think you’re trying to fight. Are you? That would be very, very silly, little rabbit. Rabbits don’t fight. Do you? Rabbits are so weak and small and helpless. Aren’t they?”

“Y-yes,” Bunny agreed weakly, before realizing she wasn’t quite sure what exactly she had agreed to. “Or… no… no, I… um…”

“Rabbits aren’t very smart, are they?” the Baroness mused, still petting Bunny affectionately. “I suppose they don’t need to be. They’re simply adorable, after all. You should really stop trying so hard, Bunny. Isn’t it tiring? Aren’t you already exhausted, after all that hopping?”

It was only as the Baroness spoke those words that Bunny realized how true they were. She was exhausted. She yearned to slump forward into the fey’s slender arms. But… she couldn’t. Could she? She needed to fight. She needed to find a way home. Didn’t she? It was so hard to keep it all straight in her head. She was tired, and her head was so full of fog. Each time the Baroness ran her hand down one of Bunny’s soft, velvety ears, she could her thoughts being massaged away, all those mental knots of anxiety and fear unraveling harmlessly. It was so hard to maintain her train of thought for more than a couple of seconds. Her head was becoming just as fuzzy as her ears.

“I… I…” Bunny whimpered slowly. “Um… yes… exhausted… yes… mm…”

She knew what was happening. She was being treated like… like a pet. And it felt so right.

“That’s right,” the Baroness crooned. The fey started gently pushing Bunny’s head from side to side as she stroked her ears and her hair. The entranced girl swayed with each motion, unresisting. “Time to do what comes naturally, hm?”

What comes naturally… what did that mean? Bunny wasn’t sure. She just wanted to feel good. She was tired of running, tired of fear. She wanted the path of least resistance. Right now, that meant letting the Baroness have her way with her. Maybe that’s what was natural. But… home. She needed home. She had to remember that.

“N-n-no…” Bunny made herself say, with great effort.

“No?” Her fey captor arched an eyebrow, eyes shining with a mystical, gleeful light. “That doesn’t make any sense at all. Silly rabbit. Aren’t you a silly bunny?”

“I’m… not… not a bunny!” It was getting harder and harder to say each time.

“Not a bunny? But you’re Bunny!” The Baroness laughed. “A Bunny is a bunny, no? That much is obvious, even to an empty-headed little pet like you. And you’re Bunny; we both agree on that. And that means you’re a bunny. Don’t you think?”

“Umm….” Bunny simply could not muster the mental energy to get to grips with what the Baroness was saying. It was so easy to get lost in her voice; in the way it lilted up and down like a half-remembered lullaby. The fey’s words simply washed over her like the rain, soaking her, seeping into her.

“Just look at you,” the Baroness murmured softly. “Look at these.” She gently tugged on one of Bunny’s ears. “And look at this.” Bunny yelped slightly as the Baroness stepped in even closer to her, slipping a hand around her hips and stroking her short, fluffy tail. “There’s really no denying it, pet. Anyone would agree. Don’t you?”

Bunny had no words. The Baroness was so close to her now. The fey was so much taller - had Bunny shrunk a little? - and she had to crane her neck to look at her. When she did, she was greeted only with the fey’s wide, sharp, possessive grin. Bunny’s gaze shot back to the ground. The Baroness’s arms were all around her. The way she was stroking her tail felt almost as incredible as the way she was stroking her ears, and the Baroness didn’t stop there. She drew her reaching fingertips back across Bunny’s hips, lingering for a minute to feel her new, huge, plush ass, stroking up and down along her bare skin. It was all Bunny could do not to sigh and moan. Why did her body have to be so sensitive all of a sudden?

“Oh, these new curves are wonderful,” the Baroness breathed appreciatively. “I told you that you’d make a fine rabbit. I’m going to enjoy these very, very much.”

Bunny shivered with more than just fear at the naked lust dripping from the fey’s voice. But… she had to resist. Had to get home. She had to. She had to.

“I’m… nnnn… s-stop,” Bunny pleaded. It was so unfair. How was so supposed to think with the Baroness touching her this way?

“Yes,” the Baroness readily agreed, quieting Bunny with her voice. “Yes, yes, yes. Time to stop thinking. Time to sink. Are you ready for that, Bunny? Let’s see.”

Still gently and methodically stroking Bunny’s ears, she removed her other hand from the girl’s hips and raised it to her lips, using her slender fingertips to slowly part Bunny’s lips. Bunny’s reaction was instinctive and immediate. She opened her mouth, allowing the Baroness to slip a pair of fingers into her mouth. Bunny suckled on them helplessly, like the obedient pet she was rapidly becoming. She couldn’t help it. Her body was eager to accept the Baroness’s attentions. Maybe it wasn’t really her body anymore. It had been changed; twisted and transformed to suit the Baroness’s whims. She no longer had any doubt her mind would soon follow.

“Good. Good girl.” The praise set Bunny’s cheeks ablaze. “You know, this is one way to tell if a rabbit is nice and comfortable with you. They’ll start licking you and suckling on you. It’s adorable, quite frankly. I’m glad to see you’re getting comfortable with me, my sweet little rabbit. Your tongue is going to be so very, very useful.”

Bunny’s cheeks were still burning, now with shame. She was… suckling? Why? It was so embarrassing. But… she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to do what came naturally. So tired. So easy to sink.

“Now… look at me,” the Baroness instructed. She pressed her thumb up under Bunny’s chin, manipulating her head. Bunny was putty in her grasp. The Baroness tilted her head back, making her look up. “Look into me.”

Bunny met the Baroness’s inhuman gaze, and was enraptured. The colors in the fey’s eyes shimmered, and the rabbit girl felt them shimmering within her too. Her mind had grown soft and sleepy. It was easily dazzled. The last little bit of tension and strength she’d been holding in her body drained away, and she slumped visibly.

“What do you see, little bunny rabbit?” the Baroness asked, slipping her fingers out of Bunny’s mouth.

“I… I….” Bunny murmured sleepily, a small trail of drool escaping her lips. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated. She saw the Baroness, and the Baroness was beautiful. How had she ever been afraid of her? This faerie was such a strange, elegant creature. She was magnificent. Indescribable. Compared to her, Bunny felt so small, so humble. But there was safety in that smallness, especially since the Baroness wanted her as a pet. Bunny could scarcely believe it was so. This beauty wanted her? Bunny couldn’t wrap her head around it. But that was OK. She knew the Baroness would help her understand. “Y-you.”

“Me?” the Baroness laughed. “And what am I?” Bunny sensed she already knew the answer.

“My… my… my…” Bunny knew what she wanted to say. What she craved. She just didn’t quite know how to say it.

“It’s OK, sweet Bunny,” the Baroness soothed. The Baroness was so kind to her. “There’s time for titles later. No need to push yourself.” Bunny’s face relaxed into a warm smile. So kind. She was so grateful for the Baroness’s hand in her hair, still softly stroking her ears. The Baroness’s touch was everything to her. “I just need one little thing from you, my precious pet. One little thing. I know, I know speaking is hard, but I’m sure you can do this. For me. Just… tell me what you are.”

“I’m… I’m…” Bunny’s brow furrowed. It was hard. Thinking was hard. She knew what she wanted to say. The words rose eagerly to her lips. But… there was something else, wasn’t there? Something she was supposed to be fighting for. Something she was supposed to be trying to get back to. It was… it was…

Then, the Baroness stroked her ear one more time, and it was gone.

Bunny’s face relaxed into a contented smile. It wasn’t hard at all. She knew the answer. She just had to do what came naturally.

“I’m your pet rabbit,” she confessed, sealing her own fate.

“Perfect! Good girl!” Bunny giggled gently and nuzzled at the Baroness’s arm, as the fey bent down to kiss the top of her head. All memory of her old life faded. This was her reality now. Her truth. She was a pet. She was Bunny.

“Come now, my pet. Let’s return to my home - and yours.” The Baroness took Bunny’s hand and started leading her back through the maze.

“You know the way?” Bunny asked timidly.

“Of course,” the Baroness told her. “Trust me.”

Bunny did. She trusted the Baroness.

“I won’t take long. Believe me, I’m very eager to get you back into my bed.” The Baroness laughed. “Besides being cute and awfully fun to chase, do you know what else rabbits are very, very good for?”

“What?”

The Baroness licked her inhuman lips with a very, very long tongue.

“Breeding.”

—

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eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

Text

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 7,547 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, unhealthy eating habits depicted (eddie accidentally forgets to eat), fluff, swearing, feeling unwanted, mentions of bullying/being publicly humiliated, low self esteem, anxiety, mentions of embarrassment, mention of an involuntary erection in adolescence lol, very brief mention of drugs, really awful & embarrassing awkwardness at the end i’m so sorry i had to. i think that’s it!

a/n: creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

You reveled in the juvenile glory that was giving Eddie a hard time, especially since it had been so long since you’ve had the chance to.

You were grateful for the opportunity to settle back into one another even if it was by acting like complete children. Part of you even felt like these moments were exactly what you had hoped for, except that there was something off. Something still polite and unsure to your interactions. It made sense since it had been so long, but it was still odd. This touch of distance to all of it was incredibly foreign when you considered the way things had always been between you and him.

In that small market, you realized so much of Eddie was exactly how you remembered. And as much as you wanted to cling to him to appease your instinctive fear of losing him again, you both had to part ways so you could put away groceries.

Far less of the asshole you met on Thursday, he was more than willing to give you his phone number when you admitted you wanted to keep talking. You were embarrassed to tell him, especially since you didn’t want to scare him off with the strong attachment you still had (which you worried he wouldn’t match), but he didn’t even think about it. There was no judgmental glance or snicker under his breath. Only an “oh, yeah, of course” and then patting at his pockets to see if he had anything on him to write with.

“I feel like I still know you, but not really. It’s weird to think about everything I missed out on,” you admitted over the motel landline. “D’you think you’re the same Eddie as 11 year old Eddie?”

“Probably not,” he confessed in a sigh. “You the same as 10 year old you?”

You paused for a moment, even if it wasn’t necessary. Of course you weren’t the same. Not wholly.

“No, I suppose not…,” you trailed off before speaking up again, your finger twirling the phone cord around. “Do you think we’ll still be best friends? Or is this all too strange?”

“I don’t think I have a choice. You’re clearly obsessed.”

“Screw off,” you giggled, feeling your cheeks grow rosy.

“Well maybe…,” he exhaled, taking a moment to think before he continued to answer your question genuinely this time. You could hear him shifting in his spot, probably to be more comfortable. “Maybe a bit awkward. Why? Regretting coming here already?”

“No,” you shook your head as if he could see you and you rubbed the heel of your foot forward on the bedding to get your sock back into place after it had shifted. “Maybe we just need to catch up. Fill each other in on all the stuff we missed out on. Then it’ll be like there was no gap.”

There was some silence on his end, except for the faint sound of his breathing. Then there was suddenly movement again as his hair brushed against the phone and he yawned out his reply.

“That’s fair.”

“… Do you think I could see you tomorrow?”

“Mm, well I work until 5 tomorrow but we could do something after.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna bug you,” you spoke softly as if you were a teenager sneaking phone calls far too late. “I’m sure I’m annoying you, but I just… I don’t know… just wanna reconnect.”

Silence. You swallowed nervously, phone pressed between your ear and shoulder while you toyed with your hands.

“Y’know?”

Still nothing. Were you being as obnoxious as you feared? Were you being too excessive about all of this? Why wasn’t he answering you? Was he not as interested as you were in rekindling your friendship?

“Eddie?” You asked now, but it was just his breathing.

You were worried he was getting annoyed with you or maybe even trying to upset you by not responding, until you heard a light snore.

Eddie’s exhaustion was getting so bad that it seemed to be ingraining itself into his body. Digging into his bones, stiffening his muscles and joints, digging a void in his torso. He swore he could feel it slowly melting his brain that craved its necessary reprieve. He was starting to worry he was going to drift off while driving or something worse—if there was something worse than that.

He must’ve gone just long enough without any decent rest because he didn’t even remember dozing off. Usually with an adequate sleep schedule, he could remember approximately when he started to slip into unconsciousness, but not this time. He was on the phone one moment, and then he was suddenly waking up the next morning.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes, adjusting to the light coming in through his window, and grunting lowly over the aching in his neck. He had fallen asleep sitting up in bed with his back against the wall, and gradually slid down throughout the night. It left his back and neck at an awkward bend for far too long and he was already feeling the effects. Straightening out his posture, Eddie stretched and rubbed at the back of his neck while different pops and creaks sounded throughout his body. As he shifted in his spot, he heard something drop off of the bed and onto the floor with a clatter. Brows furrowed and lips in an interested pout, he glanced past the edge of the mattress to see his telephone hanging down from its bouncing cord.

“Fuck…,” he muttered and scooped the receiver back up.

“Hey- Hello?” he started asking until he heard the incessant beeping coming from the phone.

Shit. He completely fell asleep on you. This wasn’t exactly helping his case right now. Once the phone was back on its cradle, he let out another grumbling sound while he rubbed his hands over his face. Arms dropping back down, he let out a small puff of air and glanced at the clock. Once and then a second time in panic.

“Shit!” Eddie gasped, launching out of bed. He was supposed to be at work two hours ago. He didn’t couldn’t bother with putting together something to eat, only sparing the time he had to hop around his bedroom as he pulled on his clothes and shoved his socked feet into his boots.

“I’m so sorry, I slept through my alarm. I swear that this-”

“Yeah, really missing out on all the action,” Mr. Thacher grumbled with a small smirk as he gestured his hand outwards to display the empty waiting room. “Don’t worry, kid, shit happens.”

“Eloquent as ever,” Lin commented on his response, giving Eddie a toothy grin as he rushed over to punch his time card. He could see her usual neon green mint gum just barely poking out from between her teeth. Mr. Thacher quietly grunted in response to her remark, continuing to flip through an auto parts catalog.

“‘D you talk to that girl that came by? What was that bracelet about?”

Eddie had been so frazzled by waking up late, that he stumbled over the mention of you. Although to be fair, he probably would’ve still stumbled even if he wasn’t mixed up from all the rushing.

“Oh— I—” he stuttered, his mind struggling to play catch up and reply to her while simultaneously attempting to remember what he needed to get done today. The Ford was already back to that snippy woman, one car he couldn’t even work on until a part came in—he guessed he was stuck with whatever else was left in the garage. What even was there?

He rubbed at his forehead as if the contact to the spot would get his brain to work. “Yeah--”

“A girl, huh?” Thacher grinned, the topic pulling his gaze up from the catalog.

“Seemed real strange, but sweet. Very mousy,” Linda whispered as if she was being secretive. As if Eddie couldn’t hear her.

“Just a friend of mine from when I was a kid,” he explained in hopes of avoiding any teasing or toying of any sorts, then went to the garage.

“Ahh, just a friend,” Mr. Thacher murmured at the clarification, sharing a knowing smile with the receptionist as Eddie escaped to the back.

Eddie could remember how Wayne teased him when he said the same thing about Chrissy. Just a friend. Just some girl who was actually nice to him. Just this, just that. Someone older than him acting like they knew everything before he did, particularly in the world of romance—which he was horribly out of touch with—always left him flustered.

Yes, he was aware he was the undateable town freak but he didn’t need to be reminded through the excessive attention to anything that could be a shocking turn of events in his love life. It emphasized how rare it was for someone to be interested in him. It was also irritating because it was bound to leave him even more humiliated in the long run. Whenever people around him made a big deal about someone he liked, it only made it all that more disheartening to have to beg them to stop bringing it up because shocker—it didn’t work out.

Not to mention, it was turning out to be a particularly touchy subject when it came to you. You were actually just a friend for nearly the entirety of his childhood; so Thacher and Lin viewing you as someone he was crushing on made him feel like a lone ant under their magnifying glass, and they were ignorant to just how badly they were burning him up. Especially now that he’s painfully aware of your existence as a grown woman and even more painfully aware of how easily he could fall into a devastating crush for you like some teenager. Sure, in a childish diary entry you once talked about him being your first kiss on your 10th birthday, but did that mean anything? No. You were young and wanted to get a milestone out of the way. You could never feel something beyond platonic bond with him. He could tell.

Now trying to focus on work, he was distracted by how ruffled he felt from being forced to think of you romantically or... Ugh, why was that suddenly so awkward? Romance. Physical attraction: Not a big deal. He’s an adult and capable of discussing such matters, but clearly not when it comes to you. He felt his stomach flip flop and his face get all red, which he hoped was hidden well by the hood of the car he was currently inspecting. You are so grown up now. Well, of course you were and of course he was too. You were both in your mid-20s, and it wasn’t like you saw one another’s transitions from childhood to adolescence to young adulthood. You were an obnoxious young girl with pigtails one day, and now suddenly a young woman who made him anxious. If he didn’t know your heart, he would’ve been sure you were the kind of girl to avoid him. The kind to not give him a second glance—maybe not even a first glance.

When he was a kid you were just… you. Critter. That annoying little shit who he spent nearly every second with. Now you’re you, Critter, and that beautiful newcomer who showed a daunting amount of interest in him. What if you realized he wasn’t worth your time? That he didn’t hold up to any standards he may have set once upon a time? He didn’t want his worries to get in the way, but he was sure they already have in some way. It’s just that you’re here so suddenly and so… pretty (ugh, he felt like a stupid teenager thinking like this) and he could barely string a decent sentence together on a regular basis let alone with someone like you staring at him or waiting on the other end of the call.

Oh god that call. Remembering that beeping phone hanging on its curling cord made him want to kneel down and let the hood of the car slam down on his head. At what point did he fall asleep? And were you upset with him? As if he didn’t already need to prove himself after his little episode on Thursday, now he had this to make up for too.

Great. Just great.

“Uh… I don’t know. I usually only hire locals. They already know everyone and know how things run around here.”

Your eyes grew a little sad at the response the man behind the bar gave you as he wiped at his hands with a towel. Unlike Eddie’s work towel, this one actually looked like it did its job. This was a rejection, wasn’t it? Or maybe just an opportunity. Usually. He said usually.

“I’m staying in Hawkins. I- I’ll get to know everyone, and I promise I’ll work hard. I waited tables at a diner back home for a really long time, I promise I know what I’m doing,” You thought you sounded confident, but maybe you were just begging. The middle aged man eyed you for a moment, considering you before speaking up again.

“Well, there’s a difference between a diner and a bar. Some of these men are downright sloppy.”

“If you mean they’ll grope me because they’ve been drinking, I can assure you I’ve been grabbed at plenty by someone sipping their first coffee of the morning. I can handle it.”

He hummed in thought, and maybe he was amused by your response. Maybe he couldn’t care less, but you were hanging on every word.

“Just to be clear… that’s not to say me, my boys, and Sandra won’t back you up if someone tries to bother you,” He jerked his thumb back to drag your attention to the woman who was roughly around the same age as him. You assumed they were married, and their sons worked for them. Did he say he only hires locals or family?

“I only want to warn you in case it’s too upsettin’.“

“So does that mean I have the job?” You grinned, hand still clutching that strip of paper with contact information from their “HELP WANTED” sign.

He wanted to warn you. There was something worth warning you about, something worth possibly backing you up about. That meant you’d be here. He sighed, and tossed his towel onto his shoulder.

“It means you get a chance. And don’t get cocky on me, alright? I’ve seen enough people swear up and down about their experience and then try to show off how much they can carry or memorize. It jus’ ends up costing me an arm and a leg with all the shit they screw up.”

“No games. I promise,” You nod your head firmly with all the respect of a soldier acknowledging their commander.

“Hm. Can you start tomorrow night?“

“Absolutely! Thank you so much, Mr.Smith,” You chirped from the other side of the bar, slipping off of your seat while he huffed out a snort.

“Just call me Ron, alright? Don’t have to be so formal.”

You might’ve been too cheery about a crummy waitressing job at a crummy bar in a crummy town, but this had you feeling that maybe your luck was finally turning up. You needed a job and while driving around in hopes of a “HELP WANTED” sign, you actually got one. And you were already getting the job. Well, a chance.

You were getting a chance.

“I have a job!” You announced with your arms raised up in joy, returning to the motel late that afternoon.

“Alright!” Martha grinned from behind her newspaper which she was folding up now at your appearance. “Look at you. Settling in already.”

“Well, I have a chance. He said a chance. But it’s something, and I really hope I prove myself to him.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great, dear. You’re gonna wow ‘em, get that job, and find a nice place.”

“I already have a nice place,” You pout now, folding your arms on the ledge in front of her usual spot and place your chin on top of them.

“This is just some crappy motel,” Martha reassured you with an amused huff and a gesture of her hand. “You deserve better. Not to mention, you can’t stay here forever—as much as I’d love to have you.”

“Are you breaking up with me? Kicking me out?”

Martha rolled her eyes and snickered, making your lips turn up into a smile.

“I want you to have a nice apartment you can call your own.”

“Hm,” you hum in consideration. “We’ll have to set days to spend together. Hey, maybe we can have breakfast every Sunday at Benny’s!”

“I’d like that,” she grinned up at you kindly, until her eyes were suddenly glittering with mischief as she parted her lips to speak up again. “Now about that boy…”

You groan with all the dramatics of a gaggle of teenagers and abandon your place at the front desk. You briefly walk away from your spot before begrudgingly circling back.

“I’m just saying you were awfully smiley when you got back from the store.”

“Yeah, with your nasty sardines,” You deflect and follow it up with a gag.

A playful pout comes to your lips at the look she gives you—an expression that could’ve said plenty of things, but you knew translated to “stop avoiding the subject.”

“We… talked,” you shrugged, gaze flitting to the ground as you fight against every muscle in your face desperately trying for a smile. “That’s all.”

“Ah, I see…,” Martha took off her glasses to clean the lenses with the edge of her shirt. “Was he good to you?”

“Yeah. He felt bad that he didn’t know it was me ‘n all that,” You murmured and glanced over at that daddy long legs that was nestled in its respective corner, tilting your head to regard it for a moment.

“Well that’s good,” She hummed and placed her glasses back on her face. “Is he handsome?”

You rolled your eyes so hard, you probably could’ve triggered a headache. Your only verbal response is another groan as you turn on your heel and head down the hall.

“What? Oh, it’s an innocent question!” Martha laughed, and you huff out a playful scoff on your way to your room.

You tried to not let last night dwindle your confidence. At first, your mind shot right to its typical worst case scenarios—you’re boring. You bore him now. That’s why he fell asleep. He couldn’t be bothered. That’s why he fell asleep. You’re so annoying he was looking for an escape—that one seemed like a stretch until you thought. But what if he was just pretending so you’d hang up already and stop bothering him? You sat with that one for a while, but then decided he wouldn’t do that… right? If you were already annoying him that much then he wouldn’t have even given you his number.

Then there was your sickeningly sweet side. The part of you so ungodly saccharine that it didn’t just put the world through a rose tinted lens—it was golden like honey and saturated with radiant sunshine and men who don’t disappoint. The latter should’ve been enough to take you out of it—too fictitious—but you holed up there sometimes. Not as much as you used to because when you never left it that was always a sign of trouble, but it was a nice retreat from your constant anxieties. On this side, he fell asleep because he was comfortable. You hadn’t seen him in over ten years, and still managed to make him feel safe enough to sleep in your presence—even if it was just through a phone.

Or he was just tired enough that he knocked out, which meant he could still be indifferent to you. This jostled your inner paradise and made your brows frown when it passed through. You shake your head as if to wipe the slate clean when you finally realize just how long you had been in your own head and glance at the clock. It was a little after 5 PM. He said he would be out by now, but you hadn’t been able to secure anything before he was snoring on the other line.

Should you still stop by the shop? You two hadn’t decided on if you would be going there, or if you’d meet up somewhere else. Fighting your urges that could easily be considered an instinct to smother him, you stay put at the motel. Instead of thinking about Eddie, you think about your chance at a job. You hadn’t worked at that diner back home in the past year—maybe year and a half—and now you were ruminating over every little detail of working there. You were continuously reassuring yourself that you remembered how to serve people in a small town as you dug through your bags to find something to wear.

Oh crap, you forgot to ask if there was a dress code.

You tried to think of what Ron was wearing at the bar. Flannel. Definitely a flannel. You never saw what pants he was wearing, but you at least had that. Figuring you’ll play it safe, you pull out your nice jeans. They were particularly stiff and you would have to lay on the bed to button them, but you had to look your best. You’ll pair them with a clean black top and comfortable shoes, and just hope they give you an apron.

Despite Thacher’s insistence that he go home, Eddie stayed longer at the shop than he usually did on Wednesdays since he came in late. One would think finally sleeping would be rejuvenating, and it was to a certain degree, but it also left him incredibly groggy. His body felt drunk on the sudden abundance of rest, and he almost didn’t know what to do with himself. He just prayed he would sleep tonight too.

No one came in around close, but he could focus on fixing what was already in the back—not including the car that he was still waiting on a part for. It wasn’t until he felt like he was going to keel over from the gut pain that he realized he hadn’t eaten all day. The few cups of coffee he had felt like they were slowly eroding his stomach as it begged for a decent meal. He made his way to the small break room and scoured the cabinets to find a Chinese food menu, a tub of Folgers, a forgotten can of Sanka (cause really, who was drinking decaf at work?), filters, an array of plastic cutlery, napkins, a ramen seasoning packet and aha—a packet of instant oatmeal.

Tearing the paper with his teeth, Eddie reached for his usual mug to dump the oats into before adding water. He watched the cup turning in the buzzing microwave with a sigh of relief as the scent of cinnamon began filling the air, all while he rubbed at his neck and stretched his still aching back. He waited until the very last second to smash his knuckles against the button to successfully open the microwave door right before it could beep at him.

“Ow ow ow--” he hissed around his first bite, which was visibly steaming, but he was too hungry to care as it burned away at his mouth.

“You know I think that has been in the cabinet since ‘86,” Linda commented as he made his way towards the front, picking up on the scent of instant oatmeal before she could even turn her head to confirm that was what he was eating.

“Well right now, it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” He grinned a closed mouth smile around his boiling hot snack and then shoveled in another scoop just to keep huffing and puffing from how hot it was.

“You can let it cool, y’know. It’s not gonna run away from you,” She snickered as she organized her desk.

Eddie lifted his plastic spoon to show off the sludge that slowly slid down and plopped back into the mug.

“Sure about that? This doesn’t look like something that could come to life?”

“Don’t play with your food,” She chastised gently with a tilt of her head, making him laugh.

“Yes, mother,” He snickered and she joined in, but the sentiment wasn’t entirely a joke.

She had become somewhat of a mother figure for Eddie since he first started here at 16. She defended him whenever the opportunity arose and she kept an eye on his interactions with others, always hoping for some happiness to come around for him. Sometimes she was concerned that maybe he wouldn’t treat a girl right—take advantage like a lot of men do—but she was usually only concerned about him. He was the one that got hurt nearly every time, excluding that recent one he made cry.

“So a childhood friend, huh?” She suddenly asked, despite him not being aware of her thoughts turning from the topic of old oatmeal to you.

Eddie’s eyes were so childish and round as he glanced over at her, it was almost cartoonish in the way that they glittered. He was softer talking about you now that it was only Lin, even if he still felt somewhat irritable from being pestered about you.

“Yeah, she uh…,” Eddie swallowed, setting his mug down on that awkward half wall around her desk and started picking at his nails. “She’s from Ohio. When I still lived with my dad.”

“Ahh…,” Linda raised her brows, but backed off a little. She knew his dad was a sensitive topic. She clicked her tongue thoughtfully. “Well that’s sweet of her to come here to see you, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Eddie laughed sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck again. “It’s a little weird.”

“Do you not want her here?”

“No—god, no, I mean yes. No I don’t… not want her here.”

“Mkay,” Linda hummed, having a hard time not smiling over his blushing cheeks.

“I just mean I haven’t seen her in so long, so it’s shocking, y’know? The last time I saw her she was 9. Well, she’d insist she was practically 10 since it was so close to her birthday-” Eddie rambled out that last part, rolling his eyes a little and flapping his hands out over the recent memory of your insistence that you had been 10. He let out a huff of air, then toyed with a strand of his hair to pull in front of his face as he shifted in his spot.

“But uh… yeah.”

Linda eyed him for a moment, until it all clicked into place for her. Oh he’s so cute.

“Aw, it’s strange for you to see her all grown and womanly,” She cooed.

Eddie’s face twisted as he dropped his hair from between his fingers, and might as well have gagged.

“Oh, god— do not call her womanly.”

“But it’s true! You knew her as a young girl and now she’s blossomed into a woman. Oh, Eddie-”

“Ugh, shit, I should’ve left at 5 when Thach offered,” Eddie grumbled, twisting around to bring the empty mug back into the break room.

“Just because she’s finally developed her breasts doesn’t mean she can’t be your friend anymore, dear!” Linda called after him in a manner that sounded sincere, but he could hear the edge of humor in her tone.

He grumbled to himself, trying to ignore how hot his face and ears felt. He was 25 years old. He shouldn’t have to feel this way. Part of him wished it was coming from a familial standpoint of Oh my gosh look at you, you’re all grown up, I can’t believe it! But no. No this was coming from the place of his inner adolescent self tripping up because the change in your appearance was so drastic. For all intents and purposes, you forever remained in a childhood time capsule while he continued to grow up. Then he blinked and you were showing up as a 24 year old woman, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t stupefied by it. And Linda had him figured out in record time.

He rinsed out his mug, shooting a playful glare at her when she walked in to place her mug from that morning in the sink.

“Oh don’t be so sour. I’m sure she’s just as surprised to see you all grown up.”

“Good to see you’re back in the land of the living,” you teased when Eddie called you later that night after work and dinner.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, phone cupped between the side of his face and his shoulder as he lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply then let out a contented sigh, watching the plume of smoke dissipate the further it traveled through his room. He dropped his hand down that was holding the common vice between his middle and forefinger, ring finger picking at his pajama pants. “But uh… seriously. I’m sorry about that. I just… haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Oh,” you said rather simply, shifting to get more comfortable in your spot. “‘D you wanna talk about it?”

“Nothin’ to really talk about. Just have a hard time sleeping.”

“Like, falling asleep or staying asleep?”

“Uhh yes.”

You rolled your eyes and allowed him a breath of a pity laugh at his response.

“When did that start?”

“‘D you end up going to school to be a shrink or something?”

“Oh god no,” you all but dry heave, the mention making you think of that tool from your college. “I went for an education degree.”

“No shit?” His voice lilted up at the end and you could hear him following it up with a deep inhale and exhale of smoke. “So you want to be a teacher?”

“You’re avoiding the subject, Eddie.” Although to be fair—now you were too.

“Whatcha gonna do? Spank me with a ruler or somethin’, teach?” He tittered, and he was grateful that you couldn’t see how he immediately rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and silently asked the world why the fuck he just said that. The only relief from his debilitating misery was the way you laughed at his stupid comment.

“Screw off,” you giggled before sobering your tone. “No but really—is everything okay? I feel bad that you’re not sleeping.”

“Why? It’s not your fault.”

“No, I know…,” you murmured, toying with a loose thread in the motel comforter. “Just wish you didn’t have a hard time sleeping.”

“Yeah me too,” he laughed and smothered the glowing end of his cigarette into his ashtray when he was done with it. “But it’s not a big deal.”

“I could make you chamomile tea or something. That always helps me sleep,” you answer, your heart thrumming from the simple offer.

“You really want to come to my crappy place and make me leaf water?”

“Or just don’t sleep tonight. Wish you the best, Loogie.”

Eddie’s groan crackled through the old phone, and you could feel the eye roll that came with such a sound.

“So—oh careful it’s hot—” you murmured when he carelessly dragged the mug to his side of the countertop in his small kitchen, not wanting the tea to spill over onto his fingers.

It didn’t take much convincing for him to welcome you over to his trailer, and you were all giddy over seeing his place. He put a lot of emphasis on the fact that his home was shitty and didn’t understand your joy, but you were happy nonetheless.

“So it should help you get sleepy, and if you wanna you can make a wish when you stir it,” you grin over at him like a little kid, and he finds it endearing that you still enjoyed something as simple and sweet as making a wish. He remembered how as kids, you clung to just about every scenario that could incorporate making a wish. A lone eyelash on a cheek. A birthday candle. A dandelion. A friendship bracelet.

“If you stir clockwise you can wish for something into your life, or you can stir counterclockwise to wish something out of it,” he eyes you from where you’re settling your elbows on his counter and cradling your chin on your open palms.

“So I can… wish for a shit ton of cash or something and I’ll wake up a millionaire?” he questioned, still smiling even when you give him your best glare.

“Ha-ha,” you sneer. “No, jackass, but you can wish for abundance.”

“Abundance?”

“Yeah, like wishing for better opportunities to come your way.”

“Or I could start selling weed again,” he counters, watching the way you push away from where you were leaning into his counter.

“You’re being mean.” you complain and it feels more familiar to him than anything else.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” he sighs out through a light laugh. He shakes out his arms theatrically like someone preparing for a daunting task—only to lean in and grasp the handle of a small spoon between his fingers.

“You sold drugs?” you suddenly ask and his gaze flits up.

“Do you mind? Trying to make a wish over here.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, but he just kept staring at you.

“What?”

“Do you have to watch me?”

“Oh I’m sorry, can you not perform while I’m looking?” you bunch up your lips into a mocking pout, and now it’s his turn to glare. “Fine.”

Once you’re turned around, you hear the occasional clink of metal against ceramic and it makes you smile until you hear the gulping that follows.

“Oh my god— it’s a cup of calming tea, not a shot of tequila,” you gasp as you turn to find him downing the liquid that was probably still scalding hot.

“Yeah no shit,” he chokes out, putting the mug that was still half full now before sticking his tongue out and looking down to try and see if he could find any evidence of the burning he felt. Between the oatmeal and the tea, his taste buds were taking a real beating today. You giggle at the ridiculous action, and then even more when his gaze turns up to you with his tongue still out.

“I’m sorry, is this funny to you?”

“Yeah,” you admit honestly, giving him a big smile through the small titters that melts his heart.

“Keep it up. We’ll see who’s laughing when I’m ditching town with a million bucks.”

“Screw off, I told you it doesn’t work that way--” you huff, reaching over to nudge his arm and it only encourages his goofiness. Eddie’s leaning into the counter as he grins over at you.

“So when does this shit kick in?”

“It’s tea, not a downer,” you counter in a patient tone and gently move the cup closer to him. “Just keep drinking it with slow sips and try to relax.”

He hums in lighthearted disappointment at it being pointed out that the tea wasn’t a strong sedative, but he already feels somewhat calmer even in all his excitement over messing with you. The scent of the chamomile and honey, and the smell of your perfume. The softer tone of voice you took on when you focused on the fact that your task was to help him relax and sleep. The familiarity of your presence even with the distance caused by time apart. The coziness of his pajamas and your matching sweatshirt-sweatpants combo.

“Remember when we were kids? And I slept over all the time?” you murmured randomly, this moment of helping him calm down to sleep directing your thoughts to that simpler time.

“Yeah,” he grinned and leaned forward on his forearms. “And my dad always insisted you stay in a sleeping bag on the floor-”

“But you let me climb into your bed if I had a nightmare,” you finished for him, blushing at the fond memory.

“If? You were always scared of the dark. You never stayed in that sleeping bag.” he chortled and dragged his mug up to his lips.

“I never got why your dad didn’t want us sharing a bed. Even now, it’s stupid. We were kids, it’s not like we thought about stuff like… like…,” you start with a laugh before trailing off as you feel a thick fog of awkward tension suddenly settle in his trailer. You clear your throat and look down at your hands.

“Just stupid. We were too young. A-and even if we had been teenagers it’s not… it’s not like…,” you sputter, internally screaming at yourself for directing the conversation this way.

“You would not have wanted to share a bed when I was in the throes of puberty,” he snorted and displayed his hand outward as if presenting scenes from his teenage years while he dramatized those last three words. You were grateful for him saving you from this mortifying moment with his sense of humor.

“The people are right: teenage boys are disgusting.”

It’s your turn now to snort and raise your brows as you concur with a simple nod.

“Which is so unfair, by the way,” he points at you after settling his mug back down from another sip. “Why do girls just get better? And we have to suffer?”

“Oh please,” you scoff incredulously. “Have you ever had a period before? A single cramp? Bled through your jeans and everyone can see?”

“Uh, have you ever gotten a random hard-on during a presentation in school?” he countered and you flinched at the idea.

“Oh god…”

“Yeah. I wanted to drop dead.”

“…What were you doing a presentation on?” you wonder after a pause for consideration, a curious smile pulling at your lips. He eyes you from under his lashes and curly bangs before looking down at what’s left of his tea as he mutters under his breath.

“I’m sorry?”

“S’lm ‘ch ‘ls.”

“Come again?”

“The Salem Witch Trials,” he finally admitted loud enough for you to hear and you throw your head back in a cackle as he buried his face in his hands. You eventually sober up enough to speak again, eyes wild with amusement.

“You got off on people being unjustly executed in Colonial America?”

“No!” he groaned, separating his hands from his face.

“No, that’s the worst part. I wasn’t even turned on by anything. It just-“ he gestured towards his groin that was hidden behind the counter. “It just did it on its own.”

“Oh that’s so humiliating.” you whisper like it’s a secret, and he huffs.

“Yeah, no kidding— will you stop smiling about it?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can. It’s too funny,” you admit with an apologetic scrunch of your nose.

“No, now we have to get even. Now I have to know something embarrassing about when you were a teenager,” He waved his hand, urging you to contribute so it was fair.

“Can’t think of anything. I was perfect,” you sighed sweetly with a hint of grandeur, hands pressed against the counter top and head tilting into your shoulder. He stared you down until you crack with a giggle.

“Uhh, let’s see…,” you hummed, looking off at a corner of his ceiling while you perused your memories. Your face is neutral and deep in thought until something clearly hits you sideways and makes you cringe.

“Well, I got pantsed in high school when I wasn’t wearing any underwear.”

“Ouch,” Eddie hissed at the memory as if it personally hurt him before he barked out a laugh. “Bad day to go commando.”

“I didn’t even mean to,” you whine, now the one hiding their face. “It was gym and I forgot another pair of underwear. I didn’t want to sit in sweaty underwear for the rest of the day so I just…”

“And someone pantsed you?” he cackled, hands hugging his cup.

“Yes,” you huff with a pout. “It was Zachary McKay.”

“He was always a tool,” Eddie muttered now, a small yawn escaping him. “Even when we were kids.”

“He had a crush on me after that, though, so I benefited from the sudden kindness for a while,” you let out a hollow laugh, as if that saved you from the humiliation of everyone seeing you half naked in gym.

“Oh god, you didn’t date him did you?” he asked like it personally pained him, and the torture wouldn’t let up until you shook your head.

“Ew, no. He just had a hard-on for me after seeing me half naked, and then he was right back to being an ass when I turned him down.”

“Good girl,” Eddie muttered casually over you not stooping low enough to entertain anyone as awful as McKay.

He didn’t even think about it, and the phrase wasn’t drawn out in that way someone would when they were being provocative, but it still nearly made you choke on your spit. You were grateful for him going around the corner of the counter and behind you to put his mug in the sink after downing what was left, so you had a chance to recover. You wanted to drop dead like a teenage boy getting an involuntary erection in the middle of a presentation.

“Sorry he was an ass to you just cause you didn’t wanna date him, though. Not that I’m surprised that he’d do that,” he muttered, walking up from behind you after abandoning the sink. He’s brushing against you for just a second and then back to his spot across from you.

“Yeah…,” you agreed breathlessly and forced yourself to look at him. “You look like you’re getting tired. Want me to leave so you can try to sleep?”

Or so I can throw myself into a pit?

“I feel bad kicking you out after you were nice enough to bring me stuff,” he reaches over to grab the box full of chamomile tea bags for emphasis. “And making it for me and everything.”

“It’s okay, really. I know you have a busy day tomorrow… I do too, actually. Not until a bit later, but…,” you trailed off as you collected your thoughts and toy with your hands. “Really. I don’t mind leaving so you can sleep.”

“Okay… but if you get any nightmares don’t call me cryin’ cause you can’t climb into my bed,” he teased while he stretched, the bottom of his band tee lifting to show a sliver of tummy.

“Oh, please,” you scoffed and he huffs out a laugh, letting his arms drop back down to his sides.

There’s a moment where that distance comes back. You forgot it still existed until it got to you leaving. Do you just say goodbye and head out? Do you hug? He doesn’t seem sure either and just kind of scratches the back of his neck while jutting his thumb towards his bedroom.

“I should probably go to my room if I wanna sleep.”

“That’s a good choice.” you snickered, placing the strap of your purse over your shoulder and starting to gravitate towards the door. “Let me know if the chamomile helps.”

“I will,” he offered you a small, charming smile as he picked at the skin of his thumb. “I uh—shit, right-”

He goes over to you now, extending an arm.

A hug. Okay. You’re gonna hug.

You wrap an arm around his torso in a half hug just as his hand lands on the screen door’s handle. The creak of old springs is too late and you already hugged him. Fuck.

“Oh I was- no. Yeah,” he stumbled over his words.

“I’m sorry I thought-”

“No, no. I-”

He briefly wrapped you up in his arms and somehow being scooped up into him was worse than if he had backed away from you. He was keeping you hostage in your own humiliation, even if he was trying to be kind. You desperately wanted to savor his body heat and his smell of tobacco, leather and cinnamon, but you can’t even do that. Not while your fight or flight is setting off alarms all throughout your body.

“Thank you for stopping by,” he rubbed your back before parting from his gesture that he felt he should’ve already been offering. “Really.”

“Any time,” you squeak out, trying to laugh off the awkward moment to seem cool and casual, but you’re probably just making it worse.

“Night, Looddie- Loog- Ed- I…Wow, I started to say one and then went with the other… and I just said Looddie… that’s great.”

You laugh again with one foot out the door, and he seemed genuine when he joined you but it didn’t stop you from wishing you could disappear in a magnificent feat of spontaneous combustion.

Once you were outside of the trailer, you felt paralyzed by your own embarrassment and deafened by the unrelenting silence of night. If it weren’t for the fact that he would hear you, you’d be smacking your head off the side of his trailer and screaming.

This was so much worse than being pantsed by Zach McKay.

taglist: @mystars123 @h-ness1944 @ohmeg @milkymil-k @eddiesprincess86 @stopbeingcurious @corrodedcoffincumslut @sidthedollface2 @spoonflix @madaboutjoe @fckyeahlames

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #bsf!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie #bartender!eddie munson #bartender!eddie #mechanic!eddie munson #desiderium series #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #slow burn eddie munson #eddie munson slow burn

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maniculum · 3 months

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Welcome to another Scorpion Sunday! We're almost through all the ones from the original post, but I've still got a couple that people have sent me sitting in my inbox. This'll get more sporadic once we're through the list though -- only one left, I believe.

This one is from the Breviari d'amor, a book by 13th-century French author Matfres Eymengau (and variant spellings). I can't tell you about this particular manuscript of the Breviari d'amor, because it's Harley MS 4940 at the British Library, and... yeah, cyberattack still ongoing, you know the drill. The text itself is a bit odd; a "breviary" is a type of prayer book, and... well, in the absence of being able to access the manuscript listing or being willing to trawl through the university library's holdings just to fill out a Tumblr post, I'm going to just tell you that Wikipedia says this book's "sole purpose is the reconciliation of love for God with the erotic amours of the troubadour lyric". I think there's a 50/50 shot of that being really interesting or incredibly tedious, so I might have to check it out later.

As for the actual illustration, it's a bit of kismet that this one was slated for today. I originally mocked this scorpion for having a head that, let's be real, looks like a butt. Ever since, I've been getting occasional notes on that post telling me this is actually a pretty realistic scorpion head in outline. And just earlier today, @bogleech reblogged that post with an actual photograph of a scorpion with this head shape:

Which really calls into question how this illustration came about. How did the illustrator nail such a weirdly specific detail but otherwise draw something that only looks like a scorpion in general silhouette? Bogleech suggested they might have seen a damaged specimen with pieces missing and filled in the blanks; I think it's also possible that someone drew a scorpion from personal experience, then someone else copied that drawing and messed up a couple details, then someone copied that drawing... &c. You know, Manuscript Telephone. Or maybe it's a bit of both and this can be traced back to a damaged manuscript. Or maybe this artist was working from a description that included "head like a butt" but not "pinchy claws" for some reason.

Anyway, moving on to the points:

Small Scuttling Beaſtie? ✓

Pincers? ✘

Exoskeleton or Shell? ... hm. I honestly think we have to consider this one. Given the context of what that head looks like on an actual scorpion, maybe this one does have a carapace of some kind over its head. And there's something going on with that spinal ridge thing. On the other hand, the rest of it is clearly furry. I think i'm going to split the difference and give it ½.

Visible Stinger? ✘

Limbs? 6

As for vibes... would I like to meet this thing more or less than I would like to meet a regular real-world scorpion? Honestly, I think it balances out. I'm a little concerned that what I'm looking at here is a furry alligator with a weird head, but i do also think it has a certain charm, and i feel like it all boils down to just how large this thing is. If it's alligator-sized, I don't want it around me; if it's scorpion-sized, I think i'm cool with it. Again I will split the difference and give it the middle-of-the-road "about the same as a real scorpion" score: 3/5.

That means the scorpion with the strange-but-accurate head gets:

5.1 / 10

i'm sorry, it really does look like a butt

#medieval scorpions

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clevervonskelli · 2 months

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I finally edited my post-finale, notes-app thoughts so that they're somewhat intelligible and I'm leaving them here in one rambling lump.

- ROSIE!! I would give this man all the screentime ever. The depiction of his mission and crash was executed so well! Nate did a stellar job with that and later at the concentration camp.

- Take the "true" out of the "we were the masters of the air" part! I hate it. Who put that in there? It sounds corny, and weird, and like they achieved some sort of divinely dictated status and it really pisses me off. The vibe is manifest destiny, American imperialism-type shiz and I hate it. Just "we were the masters of the air" with a different emphasis in Anthony's Crosby voice would have been great. Miss me with that "true" bullshit. Yes, this miniscule moment is what I will fight over.

- Ngl, I thought there was some sort of design/editing oopsie when a tumblr post last week zoomed in on the opening credits where it shows a collection of dudes standing beside a plane and one of the ones wearing a life vest had Rafe Law's face. But now I'm so happy that in the show Lemmons got to take flight and participate in such a cheerful mission.

- The roles and screen time for the Tuskegee men: It should have been better for sure but it was at least tasteful?? as weird as that sounds. In my (white) opinion, their initial introduction offered a very limited look at the unit as a whole but still felt a lot more intimate than for other characters we have seen more often. In episode 9, Macon, Jefferson, & Daniels didn't say much but they felt so integral to the scenes they were in and had quiet moments (like the nods when they arrived at the new camp or being right in the thick of the scramble during the liberation) that felt all the more powerful because of the lack of dialogue.

What I would have really liked is for their storylines to run through every episode as more of a parallel to those of the 100th, with equal attention dedicated to them/their missions, but at least they weren't simply tossed into the show in a way that felt careless or grudgingly forced.

- I'm not sure I like Solomon as the one lifting the guard during the march. Yes, the circumstances really did lead to some of them helping each other like that, even as wild as prisoners toting the guns might seem, but having it be a Jewish POW in the show felt very morally pedantic, like some sort of Sunday-school lesson on being the bigger person. I can only speak as a non-Jew, but it felt odd! Instead of being an effective way to underline the complexity of the relationships between prisoners & captors or Germans & Americans it felt like it was trying too hard to also connect to the Holocaust elements of the episode. I feel like the result was clumsy and strange in a way that I don't think it would have been if it had been a character other than Solomon taking those actions.

- And while I'm on the subject of the guards/prisoners angle...

That one guard yelling and bragging about how to handle the prisoners was awkwardly done. I can't remember it exactly, but if the show wanted to highlight that "not all Germans and not all the prison staff were Nazis but some definitely were and those ones were real bastards!" then they should have had the other guard looking conflicted or upset by it or something. There should have been some kind of nuance distinguishable to the audience. Most of the faces were just so blank it felt like one guy was giving the scene his all while everyone else spaced for that take.

- They managed to convey the "old men and kids" thing pretty well without hitting us over the head or putting it in the voiceover. There's a more effective way for it to have been done, I just know it, but I have no actual suggestions and therefore must be gracious. I'm just happy they tried to show a tiny bit of how staggeringly drained and unrecognizable the entire German nation was by the end of the war. MotA's ✨bombing morality discourse✨ often felt unsettled throughout the show, but I think the attempt at illustrating that the first country the Nazis invaded/attacked was their own ended up being more successful.

- I'm not sure exactly what they were doing with the moment where Buck and the horse stare into each other's souls but I love how it gives us the opportunity to have cracky, 'Cleven is a horse boy' jokes 🐎.

(Ok, but seriously, what was with the horse? Were they trying to increase tension wondering if it would reveal them? Was it to show how dire things had become in Germany compared to when earlier they had such technological might? Was it supposed to be one of the emaciated horses they often passed while on the march? Is it for white horse symbolic reasons? Just for the aesthetic? WHY?!?).

- I could have easily spent 40 minutes just watching the POWs trying to pack up for the march and I still wouldn't have had enough. I'm absolutely wild for the details and background stuff in Stalag III and I can't wait for all the gifsets and whatnot to be able to take a closer look at things ❤️

- They gave Crosby his locked supply shed moment!! I was really hoping for that, or when he intellectually destroys the 390th's navigator, to be included and it is so satisfying to see. I love having something else to focus on besides his voiceover and early episode struggles (both of which I do enjoy) or the weird af way they did the him+Sandra thing (which I quite despise). Add it to his Nietze quote and anxiety concerning their roles in the war and I feel like we got a decent characterization of him again.

- I guess I can accept not enough budget for a 10th episode but there wasn't even enough for Meatball in the finale? Man, I'd sure like to go back in time and crowdfund that shit.

- When Sammy yelled "they won!!" as the kiddos were playing after everyone leaves Thorpe Abbotts I got super annoyed.

The hero worship would be very real of course, but Hanks & Spielberg can't convince me that a British kid who has been living a huge chunk of his life in a country at war would not make that a "we won!". Not only was England a part of the victorious side but Sammy was basically a part of the Thorpe Abbotts/100thBG family and therefore would likely feel like a part of any of their successes too. It's kind of petty but, again, it felt a little too "USA! USA!! USA!!!" for my tastes.

- From the moment his casting was announced I expected Callum Turner to put his entire being into this role and he certainly has. They nabbed a 6'4 dude built like an old growth pine to play a man who was something like 5'6 and 120lbs soaking wet, but I could definitely see the vision. His dedication has been so clear in other episodes as well but there was just something about Episode 9 that went above and beyond. Maybe because there are scenes where Egan is alone more often (or at least separated somewhat from the others), just like when he first bailed, but Callum's facial work and body language was impeccable.

#masters of the air #this mess has been sitting in my notes app since the wee hours Friday morning and it was time to finally release it or choke on my opinions #spoilers #mota #hbo war #MotA: Episode 9 #masters of the air finale #rosie rosenthal #alex jefferson #richard macon #robert daniels #john egan #harry crosby #nate mann #callum turner

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inconspicouslurker · 7 months

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My headcanons why Oracles didn't foresee the Day of Unity.

We all thought about it. How odd it is that a whole track of magic, a track that has fortune telling as part of its expertise, didn't know the true intentions of the Day of Unity.

From my very lack of research, from my understanding, celestial bodies and phases have an influence on fortune telling. Now, I don't know what an eclipse would do as an effect, but I'm going to ignore the eclipse part of things.

My reasoning, is well...the spell itself. We learn that Belos learned it from the Collector. Which I'm taking as its a Archivist spell not a Titan/Isle/Witches spell. We know that the Titans spell/roar can negate Archivist abilities (all or some), but I have a hunch that Archivist can cancel out Titans too (some spells). I think a lot of their (Titans and Archivist) abilities and spells just cancel eachother out and they are pretty much at a standstill if there's no outside help. I mean, the Draining spell had no issues being cast nor The Collector changing the landscape and doing whatever they pleased. So perhaps the draining spell can doing something similar to an EMP that kills off any foreseeing once it hits that timeline.

The other reason, and the reason I'm leaning heavily one, is the Collector themselves. The kid is a child of the stars, and quite literally a celestial body. If fortune telling is heavily rely on celestial bodies and phases, then I think a living breathing, wild card of a celestial body just created a huge static on future readings for the Day of Unity and following until they left and taking his influences with them.

If some powerful skilled oracles do manage to see anything and try to warn people, I think they be treated as human realm crazy doomsday sayers. The ones that hold signs of "the end is near!". "A new god will descend on us and transform our land and way of life as we know it to something different!" Oracles who did this, were considered crazy and not taken seriously before they Belos had them removed. So if an oracle do manage they may just stay quiet as to not seem crazy and taken out of the picture.

However I believe for most, theres a "celestial interference" -Static (The collector emerging) that keeps them from foreseeing.

I find Odalia in cahoots with Belos so odd. Why would he include her? It been mention that Odalia foresaw everything and Belos promise her everything she wanted from ruining it. Which seem even more strange to me. If Belos was afraid his plan he been working on for centuries be ruined by an oracle with a blabbermouth...he would just make that little problem disappear like all the other oracles.

I do think Belos could use Odalia favor for the products, So it is a possibly she just saw the future and was like, hey lets me make a deal with this guy that wants us all dead, but hey, he let me and my family live because I'm not opposing him. Odalia is vicious and cruel and cunning. She do whatever it takes for her and her family to survive and Belos might see that. I personally don't headcanon it, because not even the Golden Guard, which would be the closest person for Belos to confine in beside The Collector who already knows about everything, knew his true intentions. So to a Belos be like "Oh. okay, to Odalia seem like a stretch. The whole Odalia knowing and Belos knowing she knows or straight telling her is just a weird piece of information. But it also not to far off from my own head canon that i'm about to mention again below.

So the only thing I can work make Odalia work with Belos is mention on my previous post. She intuitive and with the ever increasing large supply of abomtrons figured it out. Belos wanted/need the abomtrons have a way to entrap the witched at the head during the spell to work properly. (cue copy and paste)

So Belos manipulated Odalia. He good at telling people what they want to hear. I'm pretty sure he told Odalia point blank, a lot of witches will die during the Day of Unity but only the worthy and the faithful to the Titan will survive. It's the Titan will. You don't want to go against his will do you?" Essentially trapping her to keep the secret. It worked. She was terrified She has to stay silent, if she spoke of it, she unworth and unfaithful which would mark her for death. But Belos still can't chance her if she risk being brave by telling people that would start an uprising. So he promise her all something she always desired if she stay quiet. Higher status. What higher than being royalty of the new world of the faithful and worthy?

These are all just my headcanons, that others might find interesting?

Odalia, and other oracles may have been able to see the future for the Day of Unity. Who knows. I do not think that's the case. I think there would been a larger or more groups of rebel forces for example, or doom sayers. Hopefully, I didn't ramble to much and it was coherent as I'm insanely tired and heading to bed now.

Please do a shoutout if you doing a fic or something with my headcanon, as I am using these headcanons in my own fic but haven't gotten to that chapter yet.

#owl house #the owl house #toh #toh headcanon #the owl house headcanon #day of unity #toh oracle magic

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ghostgirlgeist · 6 months

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task #3- absence

november felt like it was already moving quicker than phyllis could keep up with. the library had been receiving an ample amount of business lately, and when phyllis mentioned it to other librarians, they would inform her that it was not out of the norm for reading to become a more desirable hobby when the air outside grew a bit crisper and spending time outdoors wasn't the preferable past time of most evermore residents. phyllis never minded when the seasons changed, though she was exempt from feeling the bite of cold air against her skin being as she was, you know, a ghost and all.

slipping the sleeves of her sweater over her hands, she nestled deeper into the chair behind her counter, head lulling to the side as what could be considered exhaustion hung heavy on her lids. eyes focused on a pen that was sitting atop her unattended paperwork, her mind allowing it to spin oh so faintly to keep her somewhat grounded. her efforts failed, of course, and as weighted lids rested shut... her mind wandered, drifted, into what wasn't particularly sleep but a phantom's equivalent of it.

the pen found itself lifting from the old and worn desk, it's drying tip due to a cap long-lost finding companionship with the parchment that now lay blank beneath it. phyllis, sleepily blinking herself awake, watched as it began to dispense ink against the page... reading as it did.

❛ dear miss grimwood,

hello again. it's me, phyllis, writing another letter to you even though you'll probably never receive it. now, whether that's because i don't understand how the post service works or because the weirdness of this town won't let me, or any part of me, leave it ... i'm not sure. but, maybe it's for the best you're not able to read the letters i've written to you. there have to be hundreds by now, even though i don't write as often as i used to. i'm sorry for that.

when i first came to evermore, i spent a great deal of time missing you. i'm sure the other ghouls felt the same way but, it seemed like they all had an easier time settling in then i did. maybe that isn't true, i dunno, but it felt like it. i used to see this therapist, they were so grool, you really would have liked them— but all i'd do is sit there, the whole time, and just wish i was talking to you. it made me feel guilty, like i was wasting their time, like i didn't really care if they listened because they weren't you. i think they noticed this, because they started to ask me why i didn't talk to you anymore or why i didn't just reach out to you. it's not that i don't want to talk to you, miss grimwood, i just didn't know how. i still don't. i don't know a lot of things, i've realized.

i think part of me is scared to tell you about my life in evermore. it's nice, it's lively and the people here are particularly peculiar and fascinating enough to keep me on my toes. they're not all human, i've learned, but all of them are strange. i know we aren't strangers to strange but... somehow, even still, i'm still feeling like the odd one out. i find it harder to grasp onto things than i did when i lived at the school with you and all the other ghouls. even with coach. i just feel... different. i know i am different, and you always told me that being different is what made me phyllis but, i'm growing tired of being SO different i don't feel like i could have anything in common with anyone if i tried. i am lying to more people than i am not, saying silly things just to hide a part of myself that i worry will scare people away if i'm not careful. i make up ridiculous excuses for why i can't eat the delicious looking food the cute man at the tavern offers me, for why i don't want to go outside when it is raining, why i couldn't ride any of the carnival rides or how, when i doze off, i just seem to disappear... i'm so tired of lying but i'm too scared to tell the truth. i know you'd assure me you aren't disappointed in me but, you practically raised me and i know that wouldn't be true. a part of you, even if it was the smallest bone in your body, would be disappointed i took all of your talks and lessons for granted like they never happened.

you always told me to embrace the things about myself that make me different from anyone else. i try to remember that you always told me you could only count on one hand how many ghouls you knew who could spin their head in a full circle like me. i try to remember you told me it always chilled your heart how i could laugh so loud even though i had no lungs to fuel the sound. how you could feel when i entered a room, even if i was silent and invisible all at once. the ghouls here do a lot to make me feel better but the guilt for putting that responsibility onto them eats me dead. coupling that guilt with the potential disappointment just feels like.... it just feels bad, miss grimwood. you are one of the only people who truly has ever made me feel seen, even when i don't have the energy to make myself visible. i just miss you so deeply and am so ashamed because you worked so hard to teach me to love myself and.... i just don't. i find myself wanting to be like everyone else and i just picture you, in the back of my mind, shaking your head. i know you're right. i'm disappointed too.

i'm sorry i don't write to you as much. i'm sorry none of the hundreds of letters i haven't sent don't have anything good to say. maybe one day i'll send a letter, but like i'm doing to everyone else, i'm sure i'll lie to you too. i'm sure i'll tell you i'm having a shrieking good time, that i'm settling in great, that there is no where else i'd rather be than here in evermore with all the new friends i've made...

if i ever do send that letter, miss grimwood, i hope you don't reply.

forever your little boo,

phyllis geist ❜

a sudden clearing of the throat had phyllis stirring fully awake, her breaths heavy and infused with emotion as she looked around a bit sporadic for a moment. eyes, brimmed with what could be called tears, lifted to meet the tentative face of a concerned library-goer. stitching a smile upon her face, rubbing at her eyes, stifling a yawn — phyllis disguised her emotion as exhaustion. ❛ gosh, i'm so sorry... i uh, must have dozed off there... what can i help you with ?? ❜ the individual then dismissed phyllis, politely, and instead opted to inquired if she was alright. the most insincere smile fluttered across the phantom's lips, hands waving around as if to shoo off the mere IDEA of her being anything but alright whilst simultaneously covering up the letter with the paperwork she had neglected.

❛ oh, i'm just fine, i promise... a little tired, is all, but truly- i'm happy to help you with whatever you need. ❜

ah yes, phyllis, yet another lie.

#evermorehqstask

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mrssimply · 1 year

Text

17th: Sleepless

Filling the prompt list with things from my ideas folder, there was still a blank... So I wrote "Slice of life" and it was a mistake because it's was so broad! I didn't even know what I wanted to do, kept thinking up things, they were all bad and worse. In the end, @m-lter helped me without knowing. We had a talk around this fanart about how the boys would have difficulties with falling asleep, or would fall asleep right away only to be woken up by nightmares. So this is the result, which is why it's gifted to her, even though she didn't prompt it.

I also gift this fic to all of you out there who suffer from insomnia: hope Kerry can help you to find the Sandman ;)

You can find the prompt list here.

Every fic will be posted on my AO3 Account here.

It's t-rated. Literally nothing happens ^^'

They have trouble sleeping, Johnny and V. Kerry already knew that about Johnny from the last time he was alive — and how weird is it that he can say it like that : the last time Johnny Silverhand was alive. Anyway, it seems that dying and coming back to life didn’t cure Johnny of his insomnia. Kerry doesn’t know if he can call it insomnia, because Johnny generally falls asleep just fine: he the first one to snore when the three of them settle to sleep after a good fuck. But he doesn’t sleep long before he’s awakened.

Back when they’d just met and lived in a squat together, it was nightmares about the war. Johnny would jerk awake with a gasp, gripping his chrome shoulder so tightly Kerry half imagined it would dent the metal if it was any tighter. His eyes would be open but unseeing even when Kerry turned on the light. In Johnny’s dark pupils, his friend saw the panic, the confusion, the fear and the sadness all swirling around madly. It was what made him keep being so lenient with Johnny, because he knew what hid under the rage and the anger: a lost boy, running in the dark, calling out for help but never receiving it. Kerry fell in love with that boy and never fell out, even when it turned out to be a curse.

Later in the 20’s, when they toured or Johnny crashed at Kerry’s for a few months, generally after a severe injury on a gig, the nightmares turned to other things. Johnny’s own violence came back to haunt him: he would see himself stand in the middle of a fire, not even trying to move, just waiting for the heat to become unbearable, for the smoke to strangle him, for the flames to burn his skin. He would wake up, panting and trembling, and tell Kerry about it only when he’d taken some Blow.

By the end, he kept dreaming about a crumbling tower, and when Kerry asked him if he ever made it out alive, Johnny would smile at him and say no. His smile was strange, like he knew this dream was some sort of prophetic vision, but couldn’t really find it in himself to care. By then, Johnny was either be rageful, or totally numb, nothing in between.

So, Kerry isn’t surprised by Johnny having nightmares that wake him up after two or three hours of sleep.

Kerry is more surprised about V’s sleeplessness. Sure, V lived through some traumas, too, but from what Kerry knows, it’s about the average kind when you were born and raised as a streekid in Night City. Kerry has some of them, too, like having to fight for water, being offered shelter in exchange for your dignity, being a victim and an aggressor at the same time…

But apparently, it’s not that. V turns and tosses in bed for hours, waking Kerry up because he keeps moving, fussing with the pillow, rearranging the covers. He’s too cold, then too hot, can’t seem to find a comfortable position. Sometimes he just gives up and goes to tinker with his pistols, or deals with fixer shit. Since Kerry and Johnny keep odd hours, too, they don’t really find it weird, and Kerry isn’t particularly worried because once V is asleep, he can sleep for nineteen hours in one go and not look like a zombie when he wakes up.

Tonight is apparently a night where V can't find rest. Kerry fell asleep in his arms with a hand over Johnny’s collar bone, over the place he used to have the scars from the field surgery that had saved his life and granted him The Hand. An abomination Kerry is glad he got rid of during his death. The new arm is much sleeker, a lot more sensitive, and has an incredible bonus in Kerry’s eyes: it doesn’t turn Johnny cyberpsycho. So that’s how Kerry fell asleep, or he thought he did but maybe not because he finds himself with eyes wide open something like an hour later, in that strange state of mind where he isn’t sure he really slept.

One thing is sure: V isn’t sleeping. He sighs loud and deep, and Kerry knows he’s on the verge of giving up and getting out of bed, deeming this night a bad one. Chasing the remnant of his maybe-not-sleep, Kerry turns between the sheets. He finds his input propped against two pillows, scrolling on his favorite app — which apparently contains mostly cute pictures and funny videos of cats — with a tired expression.

He glances at Kerry when he turns.

“Can’t sleep?” the musician asks and V shrugs before dropping the phone on his chest with another weary sigh. He turns on his belly, shifts and moves his head on the pillow until he’s satisfied… Then move again, once more under Kerry’s growing smile before he settles.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” the rocker asks with a gravelly voice, whispering as not to wake Johnny up, too. Let him get a few hours more sleep if he can.

“Nothin’,” V replies, eyes roaming over Kerry’s face and the musician sees his shoulders relax somewhat, as if just looking at Kerry has an appeasing effect on him. The singer just raises an eyebrow and V groans, hiding his face in the pillow.

“It’s silly.”

“Well, you know I love silly stories.”

Another muffled huff, then V’s sparkling eyes reappear.

“You know, that gig I did yesterday?”

“The Romeo and Juliet one?” Kerry asks after a moment of thinking. Not only does V rarely speak about his gigs to him — he does with Johnny, because Johnny generally goes along with him — but the superstar isn’t that interested to know about every detail. It would probably make him lose sleep, too.

Yet the musician seems to recall the target was the heir to a rich and influential family, apparently being held against her will by her own grand-parents because she planned on donating most of her fortune to charity. The charity in question was to help the victims of water poisoning caused by her family's industry. Apparently the heir had fallen in love with one of the activists, who was the one who’d contacted V.

“Yeah. Well, I went with that merc, Helen?”

Kerry nods, he’s been hearing about this rising star for a while now. When Johnny is unavailable, V generally asks Helen along.

“The client knows the flat is under heavy automatic security but couldn’t tell us more. So we went to do recon. We climbed the unfinished building on the other side of the street to get to the right level. We were setting up to watch, when suddenly, we stumbled upon construction workers sleeping on site — I mean, I thought they were squatters at first. It surprised us and vice versa so here we are at a standoff. I don’t wanna harm them but they’re really panicky, don’t speak english and have no translators. I try to understand what’s happening when suddenly a fucking rocket —” V explains, whispering so loudly Kerry puts a finger across his lips to tell him to keep quiet. Kerry can’t help but smile at V’s outraged expression that someone dared launching a rocket at him.

“A fucking rocket,” the merc repeats more quietly, “comes right at us. Apparently we made so much ruckus it alerted the NCPD drones patrolling down the street, which identified us as a threat and just fired. Helen and I ducked, but the construction workers weren’t all so lucky… One got hit by the rocket square in the chest, another fled right into a hole in the ground and fell four stories high…”

V trails off, looking haunted.

“And then Helen and I were dashing madly down the stairs, firing at the drones and hoping the NCPD won’t just be waiting for us when we get to street level. I swear it was the worst recon I ever did,” he finishes, a note of anger in his otherwise really weary voice.

Kerry stays silent, only strokes V’s cheek tenderly. He can feel his input’s pain at innocent lives being lost. It’s exactly what made Kerry and Johnny fall in love with him: after all he’s been through, V still cares, and he cares so much it’s sometimes difficult to bear.

“I keep seeing him fall,” V confesses as he closes his eyes and shuffles closer to Kerry. “Then I keep thinking about the fact it could have been Helen. Then it makes me think about Jackie when we escaped the Konpeki Plaza… and if not that, then i think that i haven't heard from the Aldecaldos in two months and they should have come back by now, or I think about what Dino said about this mysterious BD circle who’s been releasing really hardcore content and I need to fuckin’ find them before they settle in my fuckin’ city for real but I —”

“Hush,” Kerry interrupts him firmly, still stroking his nape gently, “you’re getting all worked up, no wonder you can’t sleep”.

V lets out a dry chuckle and turns away to face the ceiling.

“I can’t stop, it’s running in a loop in my head.”

“I know.”

He does, it happens to him too, though a lot more rarely since V is in his life. Kerry just moves so he can rest his head against V’s shoulder and caress his stomach, his chest, tracing over the tattoos on his skin.

V catches his hand after a while and brings it to his lips to kiss his knuckles. He looks calmer.

“I keep thinking about everything I could have done to prevent it,” he admits and Kerry smiles. V is an over planner and a control freak when it comes to his work, even more so now that he’s mostly a fixer. He wants to make sure his clients get what they paid for, and to keep his mercs alive, too. Guilt and "ifs" are what’s keeping him awake, and it’s one of the things that makes Kerry sure V is a good guy.

“That’s because you care.”

“I care too much.”

“No, you care just enough. I think it’s normal to feel guilty because two men died for nothing. But it’s not your fault, the NCPD is just trigger happy, especially in the areas they have sponsors living nearby, and those workers shouldn’t have been there. They should have been home, safe and sound, and not sleeping on the construction site because they can’t afford lodgings.”

“Carefull, you’re starting to sound like Johnny,” V snorts good naturedly.

“You know he’s right on these things.”

“Yeah, don’t tell him.”

“I heard it,” Johnny interrupts, turning to face them. He’s probably trying to sound smug but he’s still blinking sleep away so the effect is just cute.

“We woke you up?” V asks with a frown.

Johnny shakes his head no.

“Nightmares.”

“We didn’t feel you thrash around,” Kerry replies with a worried expression.

“I think I woke up just when it started… Like my brain said ‘nope, not doing this again’ and woke me up.”

He looks confused about this, troubled by the fact his brain wouldn’t happily subject him to more horrific memories of his past.

“Heh, that’s an improvement,” V comments.

“I’m still awake after…” he checks the hour on his holo, “an hour and a half. So I basically took a nap.”

Both Kerry’s inputs sigh dramatically, prompting a laugh out of him.

“Ok, let’s… Let’s do something else, ok. Watch a movie or something, since we’re all awake?”

“Sure,” they reply with little enthusiasm, but Kerry has some for three. With a grin, he throws the covers back and puts on his gown before going to the lounge room downstairs to set up the home cinema.

Johnny and V join him as the screen finishes lowering itself over the portrait of his naked ass. Kerry has pulled out the plaids and after telling them to settle, he goes to make pop-corn.

When he comes back, he sits in the middle, and both men put their head on each of his shoulders.

Two hours later, Kerry has finished the bowl of pop-corn and he’s sniffling softly as the credits for A Nomad Story scroll down. He missed it when it came out in theaters, but the critics were unanimous about this being the movie of the decade, with magnificent photography, good old school acting and a heart wrenching universal story about love and loss.

As he wipes his cheeks with the sleeve of his robe, he glances down to see if his inputs liked it, only to chuckle when he discovers they’re both asleep. Johnny's head is actually resting on Kerry's lap, face buried against his stomach. The musician can’t recall feeling him settle like this so he must have been really engrossed in the movie. V is snoring softly, drooling against Kerry’s neck, mumbling something in his sleep.

Kerry smiles, and tries to move. He really needs to get up because he feels all stiff for one, but also because he needs to pee. He gently pushes V the other way, not worried about waking him up now that he’s asleep. He could sleep through the armageddon. With Johnny he’s more careful, but manages to extract himself. Stretching, he groans when his spin pops and shakes himself before walking to the bathroom.

When he comes back, thinking about watching another movie, he finds Johnny seated on the couch, looking at V with a strange look. From the way he is breathing, hard and fast, Kerry can tell this time it’s a nightmare that woke him up.

Johnny jumps and turns swiftly to Kerry when the man comes into his field of vision. His hands spasm over the blanket he’s still holding, and when his eyes meet Kerry’s, they look lost. With a frown, Kerry closes the distance between them in two strides.

“Hey, hey,” he calls gently, “you’re ok, you’re safe.” Johnny looks at his lips like he can’t hear Kerry’s voice, but can read the words on his lips. He relaxes, sighs softly and lets his forehead bumps against his friend’s.

Kerry brings his hand to his nape, stroking it gently. He feels Johnny’s chrome hand slide under his robe to feel his skin, thumb rubbing over the muscle of his thigh.

“What was it, this time?” Kerry asks in a whisper after a moment of silence.

Johnny shakes his head, and frowns like he can’t really remember.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m back in Mikoshi, or the Black Wall. And I wake up but the sensation follows and I don’t know if it’s real or not.”

Kerry makes a soft sound of commiseration and brushes their mouths together.

“It’s real, you’re here,” he affirms, gently gripping Johnny’s cheeks. “You can feel my hands and the heat of my body. You can hear my voice…” he trails off as the other man tilts his head until their lips press harder together. Kerry welcomes him in, licks inside his mouth, sucks on his tongue briefly before nipping at his bottom lip. Johnny groans, shuffles closer and lets his hand roam higher.

With a last kiss, Kerry draws back to look at him with a worried expression. His skin is cooling down, cold sweat covering it now, but his eyes look clearer. Johnny groans lowly before diving back in for another kiss and Kerry laughs into his mouth.

“Sometimes I don’t feel like it’s real either,” he admits against Johnny’s lips. The man smiles, a wry expression that silently translates his regrets. He nuzzles against Kerry’s cheek, playfully bites his earlobe before looking at V.

“You know, I always felt like we’ve been dealt shitty cards,” Johnny murmurs. “But it’s like… You know — what Misty says about karma.”

Kerry nods, hugging Johnny against him.

“V is an ace.”

The other man nods, huffs against Kerry’s neck.

“Or maybe a wild card,” Johnny adds like an afterthought.

They stay silent like this for a moment, before the resurrected rocker snorts.

“Look at him sleeping.”

Curious, Kerry disentangles them and looks over his shoulder at his other input. V is deep in slumber now that his brain finally let him fall asleep. He’s sprawled on his back, one hand down his shorts, holding his limp dick and snoring with a happy face. He sleeps like the innocent. Kerry grins; he kinda wants to draw a dick on V’s face. When he looks back at Johnny, he can tell the man feels the same and they laugh maniacally, but discreetly, so it sounds like they’re wheezing like old men.

“Think we can transport him back to bed?” Kerry asks when they are done snickering.

“With all the cyberware, even I can’t, he’s heavier than he looks.”

The singer knows because sometimes after sex V sags over him. Kerry loves it, feels safe under his mass of muscle and chrome so he smiles dopily, which earns him a disgusted expression from Johnny.

“We could get the spare mattress here, though. He can have the couch,” Kerry suggests.

So that’s what they do, then they decide to roll a joint, and then to play guitar. They play softly with no amps, even if they both know it wouldn’t bother V. He’s snoring rhythmically, so Johnny and Kerry use his snores as a bass line.

“We should record it,” Johnny says when they stop to listen to him. Kerry hums, feeling sleep calling him once more. They both settle on the mattress next to the couch, having pushed the low table further away.

In the low light, Johnny watches Kerry blink sleepily.

“You happy?” he mouths and the question makes the musician frown then nods softly, a gentle smile blossoming on his lips.

“Never been happier,” he replies, still a bit confused about the sudden inquiry.

“Because of V.”

Kerry looks at him, turning on his side to better observe him.

“Not only,” he replies, reaching out to brush Johnny’s mouth with his thumb. Their gazes meet and Kerry gets lost in his friend’s dark eyes, turned black by the night. He can’t say it out loud yet, but he hopes the message gets through anyway. Johnny doesn’t comment, but some lines around his eyes and mouth relax. It’s strange to think he was… worried, about that. Johnny used to be so good at pretending he didn’t care.

“You?” Kerry asks just as softly.

Johnny catches his hand, flesh meeting flesh. He holds it as he turns his head until his lips brushes Kerry’s palm. In his chest, the singer’s heart beats faster and he smiles wryly at himself: he’s still such a fool for this man. Johnny stays silent for a good moment, so long Kerry hinks he won’t answer. He closes his eyes, unable to fight sleep any longer. He won’t push tonight, he knows better anyway and he’s too tired now with V’s snores like a comforting lullaby in the background.

Johnny moves to wrap his arm around Kerry, holding him closer and entangling their legs together. The singer makes a happy but sleepy noise and feels himself drift.

“I don’t think I really knew what being happy meant until now. Took me a while to understand what I was feeling,” Johnny finally answers, voice rumbling through his chest like a purr.

Kerry smiles at him and feels a matching expression on Johnny’s lips against his forehead.

Maybe he’s already dreaming.

#kerry x v #kerry eurodyne #male V #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #fic advent calendar #my writing

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mysticdragon3md3 · 1 year

Text

I think one of my favorite fanartists blocked me.

I can't reblog their fanart post. And though the Tumblr algorithm suggests their blog to me and suggests other posts which have reblogged their art, whenever I try to go to their blog or their original posts, Tumblr says there's nothing there. Google says this is one of the few ways to tell if you've been blocked on Tumblr.

Feel sad, but I can't blame them. I am a weirdo, and post some very strange rants and reactions. I've even disagreed with a lot of the fanon in my current OTP. They _should_ protect themselves from my weirdness.

Trying not to dwell on it. Many times, my anxiety has made me paranoid that a fandom community I loved/respected was shunning me. Thankfully, time proved my anxiety and paranoia wrong. But now it looks like I've found a case where it was true. It's just fortunate that by now, I've already felt so disconnected from my OTP's fandom that I don't feel as sad as I've felt before when I was simply paranoid about these same things. Odd. But i guess it's easier to take being blocked, vs finding angry posts about me.

But this once again makes me sad that I got out of Persona 5 fandom and into FE3H instead. P5 fandom was so nice and felt like a community. ...But it's probably my whiney posts like this, complaining about being caught into FE3H fandom, that would likely make anyone block me.

But how would anyone even find my whiney posts anyway? I don't use common tags. And I'm fairly certain almost all my Followers are bots. I've always treated my blog like no one was Following. The one time someone went through my blog to read posts with uncommon tags, it was after we had gotten into a back and forth reblog conversation. But I've never chatted with the fanartist who likely blocked me.

I wonder what I did wrong. Maybe I said something stupid in my reblog tag posts. Sometimes I forget that they can be read and I write tag comments mostly for me alone. Then I remember other people can read them and I quickly change it, hoping no one saw it. I still regret that time I rambled about some random personal memory of mine, in reblog tags on andrew's adorable dimiclaude fanart. I started ranting about how my cousin would always complain to me about how he ended up making an elaborate drawing on lined paper instead of nice sketch paper, because he thought he was just doodling, each time he started. Then I would always have to chide him into remembering to stop doodling on lined paper and just doodle on blank paper each time, because he'd never know when his doodles would turn elaborate. The way our conversations like this went, it seemed like my cousin was always baiting me into chiding him about it. Maybe that was "empathizing/sharing his frustration with himself", by hearing it externalized through me too. Then I realized that maybe if andrew saw my reminiscing tag comments, he might think I was chiding him for not drawing on nicer paper or something. Even though his paper doodles were just as lively and beautiful as his digital art! ;o;! I quickly changed those tag comments and hoped he didn't see them or thought they were addressed to him. I still wonder if I should DM an apology to andrew. I haven't seen him post to the OTP tag in a long time. ;_; I do say a lot of dumb stuff that would get me understandably blocked. ;_;

Everyday, I am reminded why I purposefully avoided having friends in real life. I just screw up every single interaction. ;_;

But practically speaking, I really should stop posting my every thought and reaction, at least in tag comments. I'd feel kind of wrong if I didn't post whatever I wanted, even my stupid reactionary thoughts, to my own blog, after for so long I advocated for making your blog for you, vs being too self-conscious about your Followers. I definitely have become more wary of stopping myself from writing long comments in reblog tags, like I used to. I've taken steps already. But maybe I should scale back a little bit on using my blog like my private journal. I've been writing my every thought as a post through Tumblr mobile, ever since my laptops have had problems, and I couldn't journal on them. But the thing is, I'm posting about things related to my experience of my fandoms, and recording all that is what my Tumblr blog is for. At least, for me. Again, if Windows Explorer was better at searching files, maybe I'd keep more of my thoughts in my private offline journals, like I used to. But Tumblr's search is just too good and it seems like a much more complete record of my fandom experience. I don't want to give up writing what I want on my blog. If Tumblr could search Private posts, I'd make more of my posts Private. Until then, I am doing what I can: I use unique tags now; I hide most text under a cut. I've done what I can. If someone is going to search through my blog anyway and feel off-put by my weirdness, blocking is all they can do too.

It really is weird that I'm not more broken up about this. Previous fandom experiences have had so much of my emotion invested in it, and my anxiety had my paranoia into overdrive, and any negativity set off my over-sensitivity to the extreme. Well, at least there's this one advantage to the fandom disconnection I've been lamenting for a while.

Maybe it's good to be reminded to not be so dependent on fandom community. Fandom community is really nice and it's fun, but all my enjoyment shouldn't be dependent and so fragile as to fall apart at any slight disagreement. After all, my experience of FE3H fandom has almost reverted back to how I used to experience fandom, back when I'd enjoy a series by myself and never interact with anyone about it. I'd write fanfics for myself and draw fanart for myself, and never show anyone. And I was having fun. I can't really lament feeling disconnected in FE3H fandom, when even enjoying it virtually by myself, is still fun in those same old lone ways. (With the exception of a few regular positive interactors from the fandom, and enjoying everyone's fanart, fics, and discussions, as a lurker. Thanks, everybody. You're so nice. ^_^ )

#wandering in the dark #processing thoughts #fandom #fe3hfuukasetsugetsu #KhalidMitya #social anxiety #tags #blog #personal fandom records #reactions #in this edition of gawd do i ever need therapy #lrb~lrt #fandomfrictionfracas

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courtpheasent · 3 years

Text

Papyrus Undertale is in fact an Eldritch Abomination and I can prove it

OKAYOKAY this sounds weird and wrong but I have evidence.

Let’s start out with the basics. What is an Eldritch Abomination? An Eldritch abomination is a type of creature that originates within the works of H.P. Lovecraft. They are most popularly horrifying beyond reason, have some sort of slime or rot associated with them, and fucking HUGE. However, this is not always the case, and the popular stuff is NOT what we will be focusing on.

tvtropes.org defines an Eldritch Abomination as “The Eldritch Abomination is a type of creature defined by its disregard for the natural laws of the universe as we understand them.” And “Physically, the Eldritch Abomination is only defined by seeming somehow seeming “off”, hinting at their incomprehensible nature. They can range from humanoid to animalistic to physically impossible to inconceivably bizarre.”

So basically, an Eldritch abomination is something that exists outside of the laws of reality and is noticeably just. Wrong.

Let’s look at Papyrus.

The man demonstrates powers outside of the game’s mechanics. Nobody else in the game does anything quite like he does.

He can fly

He moves in bizarre and nonsensical ways

He makes odd predictions

He seems to be able to see through phones.

(I couldn’t find a direct pic of this one in game, but I was able to find the dialogue in the Undertale Dialogue master post website)

Needless to say, “disregard for the natural laws of the universe as we understand them” defines Papyrus to a TEE. He breaks the fabric of reality like one breaks an egg, which is to say often and without much care.

The next defining characteristic of an Eldritch abomination is their odd and offputting nature. Papyrus demonstrates this too.

People are constantly talking about how weird Papyrus is. And honestly? They’re right. He is pretty strange. That’s not a bad thing of course, as it makes him one of the most charming, lovable characters in the game. But it still is outside of the ordinary. The way he talks, the way he moves, hell, even his freaking text box, it’s all unusual.

And while this is less of an ingame observation, and more of a me thing, but Papyrus IS unnerving. The way he smiles while saying off putting things, his secretive nature, the fact that you CAN’T believe a word from his mouth because he’s a really good liar, it really freaks me out. Sometimes I stare into those blank sockets and can’t help but wonder what may be going on in there. And the fact that even after five years of this game being out, we STILL don’t know what his deal is????

Yeah it’s kinda scary.

Anyway, TLDR: Papyrus fits the definition of an Eldritch Abomination to a Tee and that makes me feel emotions I don’t have a name for.

CITATIONS

Eldrich Def: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/EldritchAbomination

Paps Flying and Spinning Gif: https://undertale.fandom.com/wiki/Papyrus

Phone Call Screen Shot One: https://youtu.be/voSXPqe2G_Q

Phone Call Screen Shot Two: https://hushbugger.github.io/dialogue/#Papyrus%20(call)

#thus just in: I adore him #very much #sorry these are so blurry I had to take these screenshots off my phone because my laptops charger is dead and I still have to get a new one #i really hope the gifs work pls let me know #technically this applies to Sans to just to a lesser degree #the urge to write an Eldritch!Papyrus fic is very strong #I MEAN HE IS AN EDLRITCH ABOMINATION BY DEFINETION SO #anyway #undertale #papyrus #papyrus theory #or really analysis????#I’m not really theorizing about anything????#papyrus analysis #Eldritch!Papyrus #Eldritch abominations #tw bold text #tw caps

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silky-stories · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Maybe headcanons or some kind of literature with either vampire garcello x reader or mermaid garcello x reader?? You could do both or one or the other. You're the one writing it after all. Thanks!

Oh. Ohohohohohohoho, now we’re talking >:)

Anon I am going to let you in on a little secret, so anyone who isn’t anon look away >:(

...okay now that it’s just you and me, one of your suggestions kind of predicted a oneshot I’ve been working on that I’m going to be posting soon. So because of that I’ll be going with the other option. Hope you enjoy ;3

———————————————————————

Parched. {Vampire Garcello/Reader}

Genre: Suggestive

Words: 2027

Related Song: Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know { slowed + reverb}

Summary: When your boyfriend gets home from a long day, it’s only polite to fix him a drink, don’t you think?

Disclaimer/s: Steamy content, swearing, blood

Notes: Garcello speaks in red this time, Reader speaks in blue ;) [Also, monster character x reader or character x monster reader is my absolute jam, feel free to send in requests like this more often-]

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Your boyfriend was, to put it lightly, a little bit on the odd side.

He work dark clothes on hot days, didn’t like the sun very much, had an uncanny sense of smell and hearing, and liked his meat pretty rare. To the outside world he was a weird shut-in that was probably goth, but you knew a hell of a lot more than that.

The two of you had met late at night in a rougher part of the city. You were on your way home from picking up a few essentials at the nearby 24-hour convenience store when you heard some rustling coming from an alleyway. Then some banging. Then some yelling. Then silence.

Well that was ominous as hell.

...

Time to investigate.

You made your way down the dreary alley, groceries in hand, preparing yourself to see a murder scene or something of the like and...

...you honestly weren’t that far off.

You found yourself watching as a man pinned a guy to a wall, his head lowered to his neck. At first you felt yourself getting embarrassed, figuring that you had walked over and unintentionally interrupted a passionate moment. You quickly realized that wasn’t the case when you watched the guy go limp in the arms of the larger man.

After a few moments of you being the quietest you’ve ever been in your life, standing and staring in shock, not knowing what would even be the right course of action for a situation like this, he pulled away. The guy that had previously gone limp slowly slid down the brick wall, deep red trickling down his neck and pooling in the crook of his shoulder. The aqua-haired man let out a sigh as he wiped his mouth with his gloved hands, still unaware of your presence.

Your mind was blank when you spoke up, it had to be for you to do something so bold yet stupid.

“Is he dead?”

The man flinched, hard, and whipped around to lock eyes with you. You were met with two bright red dots staring back at you, stunned, you began to unintentionally study his face.

The dark crimson that you had seen on the possibly-dead man’s neck was also identifiable as a smear on this guy’s face, starting at his lips and trailing off along his cheek where he had tried to wipe it off. His lips were slightly agape, revealing a set of sizeable fangs, as well as other teeth that seemed sharper than a regular human’s teeth should be. Looking down further you noticed that his gloves were fingerless, presumably to allow the sharp claws of nails that he had to stick out.

Other than all of that though he looked like a pretty normal guy. A pretty normal guy with very pale skin, but normal nonetheless.

“I... huh..?”

You were so busy taking in his clearly inhuman appearance that you actually forgot what you had initially asked for a moment, but restated your question when it came back to you.

I mean, what was there to lose at this point? It’s not like running seemed like a very smart option.

“Him. Is... is he dead?”

You pointed at the man that was currently almost falling over in his slump to emphasize your point. The man in front of you took a double take between you and what may have been a dead body before responding, clearly taking in the absurdity of the situation, similar to you.

“He’s... no he’s... passed out I...”

He paused, blinking a few times as he tried to process what was even happening. You took the moment to look at the body a little more critically and, surprise surprise, noticed that he was actually breathing.

“I didn’t... I didn’t take much so he’s just...”

Didn’t take much?

...

Oh.

Oh shit.

Suddenly the whole ordeal just clicked in your brain as you finally understood what it was that you were looking at.

“You’re a vampire!”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them, shocked and questioning, almost accusatory as your eyes went wide.

He didn’t seem to like that though. His brows pulling together tightly in sudden concern as he frantically looked around for any other possible witnessess. When he reinitiated eye contact he appeared quite a bit more panicked than before, more like someone that had been caught doing something arguably wrong. He looked threatening for the first time throughout the encounter.

“You... what do you plan on doing..?”

Plan on doing? Like what you were going to do after this? Knowing that vampires did in fact exist and at least one lived in your city?

“Do you... ever kill them?”

He shook his head warily.

“Then... I don’t... think I care?”

He was surprised to hear that, to be fair though, so were you. You figured you would care more about catching a literal vampire in the act but... he wasn’t killing anyone so was it really any of your business?

“You... you don’t care that I just drink some of his blood???”

“I guess not?”

You let out a chuckle of disbelief at your own statement, any ounce of a threatening or intimidating expression had left his face.

“He’s not gonna, like... turn into a vampire or die of disease or something later, right?”

“No that’s uh, not how it works...”

“Then just like... I don’t know, make sure he gets cleaned up and home safe and this stays between us I guess.”

He let you know that that’s what he did on a regular basis and after a few more awkward moments you were on your way.

That definitely wasn’t your last interaction though.

He didn’t trust you to keep your word, you honestly couldn’t really blame him, and you ended up catching glimpses of him watching you from alleyways or tops of buildings at night. It was kind of worrying at first but eventually it got to the point that you would just smile and wave if you saw him.

Eventually he would wave back.

Sometime down the road and you learned his name. Months later and you found an odd friendship forming, starting with you asking him to come in on a particularly rainy night.

Even later and you found yourself developing feelings, getting to know who he really was. His personality, his struggles, his fears. He really wasn’t a bad guy, he just had no other choice since regular food did nothing for him.

After half a year of your strange friendship you found yourselves together, he had happily moved into your apartment and you had started to acquire blood bags for him to use instead of people. That didn’t stop him from drinking straight from the source every now and then... although, the source he used had definitely changed.

“I’m home.”

You leaned out of the kitchen to smile at Garcello, he returned it with a warm grin, shucking off his coat and tossing it to the side to land on your shared couch.

“Welcome back! How was your day?”

You greeted him with open arms as soon as he meandered into the kitchen, he swiftly took up your non-verbal offer and swept you into his strong arms. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled, sighing deeply through his nose as he melted into the embrace.

“It went fine, certainly not my job of choice but I think the interview went alright.”

You hummed in acknowledgment and nuzzled your head against his, pleased to have him back in your arms after half a day without him.

“I made sure to get bread and milk like you asked.”

You chuckled as you spotted the brown paper bag he had set on the counter.

“Thank you.”

He continued to hold you like that, peppering your cheek and jawline with a few kisses as he told you more about his day. Although, there seemed to be a shift in his attitude somewhere along the way. He suddenly went from sweet and giddy to much quieter, giving shorter answers when you asked him a question as he let you lead the conversation.

You decided to bring it up, just in case there was something wrong.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Hmm?”

“You just... you went kinda quiet so I just wanted to make sure.”

He was perfectly silent as he thought over his answer.

“Yes, but... are you... working on anything right now?”

His tone was anticipatory, eagerly awaiting your response. You found yourself suspicious of his intentions.

“Well, no, I was just putting away some dishes that I was washiNG-!”

You were caught off guard by his tongue dragging across your neck in a smooth motion, tightly taking hold of the back of his t-shirt as he did so. You felt him smirk against your neck afterwards.

“That’s good... you see, I have a bit of a problem.”

“Y...y-yeah...?”

“Yeah...”

You flinched as he brushed one of his fangs against the top of your shoulder.

“The thing is, I’ve had a bit of a... craving today.”

One of his claw-like nails came up to trace along your sternum...

“It’s been just... driving me mad.”

Your collarbone...

“Itching the back of my brain...”

Your sternocleidomastoid muscle...

“Funny, right?”

Stopping and hovering just above one of your carotid arteries.

“Yeah... f... funny...”

His smirk grew in response to your reactions, nuzzling your neck affectionately with a huff.

“I guess what I’m trying to ask is...”

He tilted his head up to whisper in your ear.

“...would you mind if I had a little taste?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into him, not even having to speak for him to know what your answer was. He had waited for that cue though, just like usual he would never drink from you unless he was certain that you were fine with it. Even then, you both had a very clear safe word that you had used in the past if anything went wrong or you changed your mind.

You didn’t really have to worry about that though. You knew you were safe in his hands.

He purred in response to your willingness, slowly walking you back and gently pinning you to the wall.

“God you smell good right now...”

He lowered his head back down to your neck, finding the spot that he had traced up to and licking a small stripe along it, pinpointing the location of your pulse.

“...bet you’d... taste even better though...”

He was gentle as always when he bit down, it only felt like a pinch until the aphrodisiac kicked in, immediately erasing any sense of pain you had. Being guided by one of his hands that had tangled itself in your hair, your head lolled to the side as he drank from you. A gentle moan erupted from your lips as your grip on his shirt went slack, your arms falling limp beside you as bliss took hold of your thoughts.

“F... fuck...”

He purred louder as you gave clear indication of your enjoyment. The hand that he had propping himself up against the wall fell and came to rest on your hip, gripping tightly as the hand he had on the back of your head made soft contact with the wall instead.

He cut himself off a little bit sooner than usual, pulling away just enough for you to watch him lick his lips and fangs clean.

He chuckled as the hand that raked through your hair slid down to cup your cheek.

“...I was right, you taste amazing...”

His expression didn’t lose it’s smugness though, usually when he was done he would take a much softer turn and patch you up immediately.

“Although, I think I might have put a little too much aphrodisiac in your system sweetheart...”

He was right, you felt like a rag doll right now, nearly putty in his hands as the only thing keeping you standing at the moment was his grip on your torso. Your eyes had glazed over slightly and you were practically panting at this point.

“...let’s do something about that, hmm~?”

#garcello x reader #fnf garcello x reader #garcello #fnf garcello #x reader #self insert #suggestive #request #one shot #garcello but with a little spice #i hope i did alright with this one #i don’t write for vampires very often haha #panic anon

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g4rous · 3 years

Text

Sunlit memories (Garou x Reader)

tags: fem! Reader, no warnings lol, this is just the first chapter a.k.a the introduction

words: 1.1k

notes: ok so this is the first chapter of the series that I plan to write, so pls feel free to give me some feedback on this and whether you like it and should I continue :'0 💕 Thanks a lot for any kind of support ee 💗

series masterlist

Chapter one

Playful footsteps scattered across the freshly-cut grass, followed by a few equally spirited barks. Whether the small chocolate-colored dog was chasing the ball or the children lay undetermined, nonetheless they all seemed amused. A mother stood next to the gleeful dog owner, both exchanging chuckles and commenting on how adorable the sight in front of them is. Above them dozens of birds filled the air with a familiar amicable tune, as if the soothing music coming from a nearby café wasn’t enough. The park was never lonely, yet so pleasant at the same time. All those chirps, chatters and noises were like an extra spark, and frankly it’d be rather uncanny if it weren’t for them and the pastel sky above, radiant with soft hues. Cases where belligerent monsters ruined the harmony were rare, although enough to cause one to succumb to unease. Be that as it may, people always push through it and find a reason to enjoy the now sunlit park.

Though, while it was interesting to observe the scenery it wasn’t quite what you were looking for. Fiddling with the pencil in your hand, you stared displeased at the blank page of your sketchbook.

“Why isn’t there anything interesting today?” you pondered, eyes impatiently shifting over the scenery.

Almost every day for the past few weeks you’ve been sitting at this very bench, looking out for something eye-catching to draw. It’s funny how you coincidentally came across your now daily go-to place, a surprisingly comfy wooden bench underneath two large oaks, their treetops creating enough shade for another twenty people. Luckily you had your own peace there without anyone bothering you.

“Hmm… Maybe I just don’t feel like drawing people?”

After a small sigh you leaned against your hand and looked up at the treetops. The sky turned golden already, painting the leaves in shades of olive and amber. Your eyes steadily trailed down to the path next to the old oaks, now noticing a small patch of lilies that with their vivid hues and delicate form drew you in almost immediately.

“Huh. Maybe I should just go for something simple and quick?”

Well, that was what you though right before something else caught your eye. Someone to be exact. A few meters away a rather peculiar-looking guy sat on a bench. He leaned against the bench leisurely while folding his arms, his tight black shirt complementing his muscular built. His gaze was relaxed, albeit alert, and his features were sharp. Sunlight peeked on his wild, silver hair, coloring it with subtle sandy hues almost matching with the golden in his eyes.

Now, if this didn’t give you inspiration then what did? And here you thought you’d be drawing those lilies. You sighed in content, stretching your arms for a few seconds before you got to work. Subtly glancing at his direction from time to time, you had already outlined the portrait. Though, truth be told, he had such a pretty face you were trying not to stare at one point.

“What are you doing?”

You didn’t even manage to let go of your pencil before an unknown voice jolted you out of your thoughts. Much to your bewilderment you looked up to see that same man now only half a meter away, glaring at you.

“Well shit.”

Should you apologize or straight up act like you weren’t just secretly drawing some random person? Or better yet, how the hell is that same person in front of you right now? You were embarrassed as much as you were confused and to make things worse the drawing wasn’t even in your sketchbook anymore.

“Are you a hero or something? I don’t remember seeing you anywhere.” the man asked, shifting his gaze from the drawing in his hand to you.

“Hey when did you take that?!” you finally spoke, an apology being far from your mind at the moment.

On one hand it could be legitimate since you didn’t ask for permission to draw him in the first place, but on the other… What kind of punk would just rip the piece out like that?

“If you’re some c-class dunce trying to gather info on me with this-“, he grinned, still analyzing the art piece “-you’re gonna be sorry pretty soon.”

“Dude I’m not a hero.”

“Wait, what?”

That threatening, cocky grin of his from a moment ago dissipated into thin air like it was nothing, but your confused expression on the other hand only grew bigger. Was he serious?

A soft shade of pink made its way to his face for a brief moment, to which you almost chuckled.

“So you’re seriously not a hero?”

“Um, no..?”

“Your luck.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” He headed the opposite direction of you, drawing still in hand.

“Ahh so… can I get that back now please?” you walked behind him, surprised he’s oh so casually trying to leave the scene after such odd behavior.

“Nope, sorry.”

“Aw what, why??”

“Let’s just say it isn’t convenient for me at the moment to have that lying around wherever,” he put both hands in his pockets, “plus I didn’t say you could draw me did I?”

Now your face turned red in embarrassment again. He was right… Though, you still couldn’t help but wonder who this strange guy is. While tearing that drawing out of your valued sketchbook didn’t make for the best first impression, his demeanor wasn’t really belligerent either.

“Ah, sorry about that… However I must say it wasn't polite to take the drawing away like that either.”

His eyes slightly widened in embarrassment before turning away his face again.

"Eh..."

"Don't worry about it though," you smiled for a moment, "I guess it was just a weird misunderstanding or something."

Your eyes shifted on the path you were walking on, already dim because of the now darker sky, “if I may ask, is someone like… searching for you or something?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he glanced back at you, “why are you still following me anyway!? Just go home it’s getting dark.”

“Well, this is the way I take in order to get back home so you can’t really complain,” you smiled to his mild annoyance.

The night sky engulfed the city by now, leaving behind a tranquil atmosphere. Nonetheless, compared to the center of the city, your street wasn’t as bustling. Light shone from the surrounding apartments and lamp posts, and the only sounds present were from the neighbors’ TV’s or the occasional car passing by, much in contrast with the city’s center and night life.

You didn’t ask many more questions as you walked, despite the faint haze in your mind. The man obviously wasn’t too chatty, yet alone keen on sharing any personal details. Be as it may, much to your surprise what you thought would be an awkward walk was actually somewhat refreshing. Hell, you even let out a laugh or two together. Who would’ve thought the on-first-glance intimidating teen is pleasant to be around? Or, well, at least you thought of it like that. In any case way better than walking through those dark alleys alone.

next chapter

#feel free to tell me your thoughts 💕#garou #garou x reader #opm x reader #opm #one punch man x reader #one punch man #garou headcanons #garo

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parvulous-writings · 3 years

Text

Murders // Alex Law x Reader

Request: Hi! I have a request: I just recently watched a shallow grave and I’m obsessed with ewan mcgregor as Alex Law. Could you write something where he tells you about the murders because he feels like he can trust you, he also may or may not be in love with you. We love angst. Thanks!

Requested by: Anon

Summary: the request

Warnings: mentions of death, homicide, cadavers. Slightly ooc Alex?

Words: 1.6K

Notes: Mmmm Alex Law. That is all. My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Not my gif

Things with Alex had been, well they’d been strange over the past couple of weeks or so. You didn’t know what it was, but he kept trailing after you wherever you went in the flat; not in his usual way, which was often to pester or tease you, but for another reason. You had no idea what that reason was, but you could tell it was bothering him. Sometimes he would glance up, only briefly, but you would catch it out of the corner of your eye. You tried to bring it up to him on several occasions, but he would always brush it off, saying that he was fine, and then “What the hell are you talking about? I told you I’m fine. Really. Just leave it.” But no matter how annoyed he sounded with you, he wouldn’t stomp off like he often used to. It always seemed to get worse whenever David was in the room with you. Alex would tense up, and his eyes would be trained solely on his glasses-clad roommate. David would occasionally stare back, but very few words were ever said between the two of them.

Tonight, though, was different. You were sat with Alex on the lime green sofa, more laying than anything, his arm draped over your shoulder, eyes on the TV as one of Alex’s favourite schlocky shows played on the screen. He was mumbling quietly along with the host, laughing softly when the audience did. Things seemed almost normal, it was nice. You couldn’t see or feel his tenseness anymore, which allowed you to relax ever so slightly beside him, you head falling back on to his arm as you watched whatever it was Alex had put on, you still didn’t know what it was. But it was making him happy- he even dropped a few of his sassy and sometimes crude comments throughout the show’s runtime. As the show started to draw to a close, Alex shuffled a little bit. The tenseness returned, and the silence between you became almost unbearably awkward. He cleared his throat, and you moved to sit up for a moment. You glanced over at the clock- it was half past ten, fairly late. You’d need to head off soon if you wanted to be home before eleven, or lower the risk of getting jumped in the street. “Do you want to stay over?” He asked you, and you give him a rather surprised look. It wasn’t the first time that Alex had invited you to stay over at the flat, but it was more his tone that caught you off-guard. Usually his voice was dripping with a flirty undertone, suggesting a much more intimate activity than just sleeping in the flat. This time, though, it seemed more genuine- staying over seemed to be the primary thing on his mind. “Sure,” You nonchalantly agree, shrugging slightly before you settled back down in his arm. You both fall silent again, awkwardly watching as the TV droned on and on, though it was unclear if either of you two were really paying attention to the show being broadcasted.

Alex cleared his throat again, catching your attention. “Can I ask you a question?” His voice is quiet, “Hypothetically?” You weren’t unaccustomed to Alex’s ‘hypothetical’ questions. They were often a point of contention or the root of teasing, but it was all in good fun. “Alright then. Hit me with it.” You say to him- he swallows his nerves and starts to speak again. “If a someone you knew told you that they had been involved in burying a man out in the woods, and was involved in killing a couple more... What would you do?” Silence falls between the pair of you again as you start to think. Like most of his questions, it was an odd one, borderline insane to be precise. You just put it as his over-active imagination making him think of wild scenarios. “I don’t know.” You chuckle, shrugging lightly. You’re not sure whether to answer honestly, or playfully. “What kind of answer do you want, Alex?” “A proper one. Like... A serious one.” Oh, well that was different. “Okay...” You trail off, thinking it over for a second. “Well, I’d probably leave, and tell the police.” You shrug, thinking nothing of it. This wasn’t the answer Alex wanted though. “What if it was me?” He asked you, and you gave him an odd look in reply. “I’d still do that, Alex... Just because you’re my friend doesn’t put you above the law.” This seemed to unnerve and annoy him even more though. “Don’t look at me like that!” You tell him, “You’re the one who wanted a serious answer, and you got one!”

Alex paused, though only very briefly. “Yeah, I guess...” He grumbled, but he still didn’t seem very happy. You gave him an odd look. “What the hell has gotten into you?” You asked him, “You’ve been acting weird for weeks!” “I’ve got a lot on my mind.” He’s started to shut down, to put a wall between the two of you, as he pulled his arm away from you. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.” He muttered, rather spitefully, as he rested his cheek on the knuckles of his balled fist. This had not gone the way he had hoped. If you didn’t react the way he thought you would at the hypothetical- how would you react to the truth? He may have been slightly delusional, but that didn’t occur or matter to him. “Well, you want to talk about it?” You offered, trying to be a little bit soften than you had been a few moments prior. “No.” Came his short, pointed reply. He started to move to try and get up from the sofa, but you held out an arm to stop it. “Oh, what now?” He whined. “We finished the conversation, just let me go, will you?” “No- clearly there’s something actually bothering you; you can tell me. I’m your friend, that’s what friends do, isn’t it?” You ask him, and he rolled his eyes, huffing back down into his seat. He knew that you were right- but that didn’t stop his nerves from rising. He knew that what he had done was downright wrong- he may not have known or acknowledged it at the time, but now the guilt followed him everywhere. Every corner, it lurked in the shadow, he saw the flickers out of the corner of his eye.

“The question wasn’t hypothetical.” He spoke suddenly, looking into his lap as he wrung his hands. You stayed completely silent, words escaped you. Your mind went blank, and you just stared at him. “I wanted to see what you would do.” “You... You, what?” You were still trying to wrap your head around what he was trying to say to you. He finally looks at you, and his eyes are just... Sad. They hold an almost melancholic look, his hurt surfacing for once. “I wanted to see what you would do... I wanted to tell you.” Alex started to speak again. “Because... Because I think you’re the closest person I have now, and- and I wanted to tell you, because I don’t want to lie anymore, I don’t want anything between us...” “Alex, what did you do?” All of a sudden, you’re hyper-aware of every little movement he makes. Every shallow breath, every blink, every twitch, your brain registered it. Your heart started to race, a sick feeling started to settle in your stomach. As it sunk in that Alex was admitting to having a hand in a murder- whether it was the killing blow or not- you wanted to run, but you were rooted to your seat, paralyzed besides your mouth, which seemed to speak of it’s own accord. “What did you do?” You repeated, sounding much harsher.

“I didn’t kill the second two!” The auburn haired scotsman exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “I didn’t even kill Hugo, that was his own bloody fault!” You vaguely recognised the name Hugo; Alex had mentioned him some months ago, and never brought him up to you again, so you thought nothing of it. “We buried them out in the woods...” He continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why are you telling me this, Alex?” “I already told you. You’re all I’ve got, now. Juliet’s shut herself off from everyone, and David... Well that’s best left unsaid.” He murmured, glancing through the doorway to the chipped blue paint of his flatmate’s door. Neither David or Juliet were here with you now, you supposed that that was both a blessing and a curse. “I should call the police.” You mutter, almost fearfully. Alex seems rather hurt at the fear in your voice, and he slowly nods. “They already know about the bodies... But I’m not going to stop you if you want to tell them it was us.” He’s completely given in to you now, his fate is in your hands. Do you really want to turn him in?

No. That was the answer from the most selfish depths of your mind. It’s the answer you decided to stick with, as immoral as it may have been. You look him dead in the eye as you speak. “What do I do?” It takes him a moment to register that you are in fact not going to contact the police about his and his friend’s misdeeds, and he’s instantly sat beside you again. “Stick with me, please. I won’t let either of them get you, I just... I need you around.” Alex said to you, slowly, as if it were difficult to admit this even after admitting his crimes to you. To him, it was. You nodded slowly in response, and Alex silently acknowledged that you may still change your mind on it yet. “Alright.” You whisper. “I’ll stick around.”

#alex law #alex law x reader #shallow grave #shallow grave x reader #Ewan McGregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #requested #requests open #please request

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sunnysviolin · 3 years

Note

Sometimes, when sunny visits kels house for a sleepover, (or just anyones house except for basils) the host would always wake up to:

A missing sunny (who is most likely in some weird ass place like the roof)

A sunny that it staring at you from the foot of the bed or beside it

A sunny that stares from the doorway (he stares alot)

A sunny that is playing bo en my time at an unreasonable hour but at a reasonable volume (or vise versa)

Alright so a different nonnie also sent me “How many times do you think sunny scares people by staring at them from the foot of the bed / beside them when they wake up?” So I’m....combining these two XD Also if you guys like....resend things can you say they’re a resend LOL bc if I have another Cho double take situation I’m going to backflip into the sun. Also don’t resend more than twice (i’m gonna be putting that in my bio bc....yeah don’t do it makes me anxious D:)

Okay mini housekeeping thing aside! This got long it’s under a read more because it’s long, but it’s full of shenanigans, sleepovers, and our local fave cryptid Sunny

I’m going to focus this in on post-canon, because I think that Sunny’s ultimate cryptid energy flows forth in his teen years. Also I really want to include the hooligans in on this (I’m...love them)

So pre-canon Sunny and Mari’s house was the go to location for their group of six. They were almost always there, but there was some unspoken rules.

You called before you came over (Only Kel didn’t follow this rule, but he always knocked and waited patiently at the door) and you had to be invited to stay for dinner. If not you went home when Sunny’s mom called a fifteen minute warning before dinner. There was also no arguing within the house. If there was an issue that needed to be addressed, Mari and Sunny’s parents would immediately send everyone home.

Post-canon Mari is gone and the house has been sold. Hero and Kel’s house becomes the go to hang out house after that. Their house is nearly night and day to Mari and Sunny’s

Mari and Sunny’s house was always neat and tidy and very quiet. Their parents generally left the TV off and didn’t use the radio, so unless one of the two children were making noise, everything would be silent. Kel and Hero’s house is in constant motion and activity. Sally is usually either babbling or screaming, music is always playing on the radio, and their main form of communication is friendly yelling at one another. Kel and Hero’s house also has an open door policy- anyone can walk in at anytime and they all know where the spare keys are hidden.

Post-canon I see a quick friendship building between Aubrey’s gang and Basil Sunny and Kel. Hero enjoys them all, but it’s not really his scene now that he’s spent a year or so at college. He will get brought along for some adventures, and he’s always up for hanging around the house with them, but when it gets to be a bigger group he prefers to just let them have fun.

When it’s just his four kids, Hero is always a part of the group though.

OKAY ALL OF THAT BUILDUP ASIDE LETS GET TO THE ACTUAL POINT OF THIS ASK

So this is when school is in session and Hero is back at college. Kel tells Aubrey that Sunny is coming up for the long weekend, and they should all do a sleepover at his house like old times. She agrees and they arrange it with Basil. Kim overhears their plans and she has FOMO so she arranges herself to be there when they tell Basil

Normally Kel makes it a point to try and include Aubrey’s friends (who are slowly just becoming friends) but this time he just pretends she isn’t there and tells Basil to come right after school and they can drive together to get Sunny.

Kim weedles it out of Aubrey later that day when they’re alone in gym class. The reason that they didn’t immediately invite her and the others? Sunny is apparently weird at night

Kim fires back that Sunny is always a little weird, but Aubrey is being fully serious. Unfortunately all that does is make Kim more curious. She goes to find Kel afterward and half asks/half demands an invitation to the sleepover. Kel seems a little awkward about her involving herself, but he agrees that she and the others can join in if they like.

Aubrey and the others arrive

Kim soon finds out that Aubrey was 100% right. Sunny is...weird at night.

At around 10:00 pm, Sunny disappears. Basila nd Aubrey went into the kitchen to make popcorn, and Kel was busy fiddling with the TV to get the movie to start. When he turns back to the couch, he asks where Sunny is. They realize Sunny has vanished.

Aubrey and Basil come in with the bowls of snacks, and Kel asks them if they’ve seen Sunny. Basil says to check the roof.

The roof. The hooligans all laugh (Basil is a sweet kid when you get to know him, but his nerves make even his jokes strange) The other three don’t laugh. In fact Kel gets up and goes to the door.

The hooligans follow out bewildered, and Sunny is o n t h e r o o f. CASUALLY. JUST THERE PETTING AN ORANGE CAT WHO IS LOUNGING PURRING NEXT TO HIM. AND KEL AND AUBREY AND BASIL DONT REACT??? Kel just waves?? and Sunny waves back???

“We’re gonna watch Insidious now, I know you haven’t seen that one before. Wanna come in?” “Kay” “Do you want to bring your cat in with you? I’ll put Hector on his leash” “Yes please”

Then the three just walk back and tell the hooligans to follow them in. Sunny got himself up so Sunny can get himself down.

It’s only the beginning of the madness. Sunny walks in holding the still purring orange cat and settles himself down in his specific corner of the couch (They were prewarned not to sit in Sunny’s spot) Aubrey cuts Kim off before she can ask about the roof, and starts the movie. Kim looks over at the cat, and it locks eyes on her, hissing.

The movie begins and Sunny will randomly speak but only to say when a character is going to die/be scared. Right before it happens. Every single time. Didn’t Kel say before that he hadn’t seen this movie?? It doesn’t matter Sunny keeps going

A ghost. A ghost. Lost in an alternate dimension by shamanic journey. It’s bizarre. The cat continues to purr a rusty old engine noise in Sunny’s lap, periodically looking at one of the hooligans and hissing, choosing a different one every time. Who’s cat is that????

They finish the movie and start to play board games. They pick monopoly and decide to divvy up into teams. Kim immediately claims Aubrey, Vance decides to go with Kel and Kel grabs Mikhael to create a trio. Charlie and Sunny silently sit beside each other, and everyone assumes that makes them a team. Angel pulls Basil to his side and they’re prepped to play the game.

Kim likes to consider herself a pretty good monopoly player, and Aubrey is a whiz with money and numbers, so she assumes they have this in the bag.

She did not account for the Sunny factor.

Sunny stares her down through the entire time. Kim is sure he doesn’t blink. She forgets to bid on auctions for properties and gives him extra rent money. They go bankrupt first, and Sunny turns his eye onto Kel who just laughs and gives Sunny finger guns. Sunny finger guns back (his face still a blank slate) and proceeds to also take all of Kel’s money.

They go to bed shortly after, and Kim is relieved. Nothing also weird can happen. Now she just has to sleep.

She wakes up in the middle of the night and adjust her position, turning over to face the other side of teh room. Four shining eyes stare back at her, catching the dim light from the kitchen. Kim shakily grabs her phone and turns on the flashlight, whirling around to see Sunny staring at her, his orange cat on top of his head.

She wakes all the rest of them with her shriek of terror. The group of four quickly settle to sleep once more, even Sunny crashing down next to Aubrey and Basil. hissing cat caught firmly in his arms.

She and the other hooligans stay up for a bit, frantically whispering about the oddness of the situation. They resolve to leave early in the morning, and to distance themselves as much as they can from...whatever Sunny is. They’re certainly glad he doesn’t go to their school anymore.

The next morning, the group of four wake up before the hooligans and cook a big breakfast. They put the phone on speaker and chat with Hero as they do so, catching up on his latest college stories. Bo en is playing from the cd player in the corner of the kitchen, kept low so as not to wake the others.

The hooligans creep downstairs and peer inside. The scene is shockingly...normal.

Sunny is still carrying his cat, but now Kel is feeding it tiny bits of bacon and it is stretching out of Sunny’s arms to reach the next delicious morsel. He’s chatting with Hero over the phone, speaking in full long sentences which is a rarity for Sunny. He even laughs quietly at a joke Hero tells.

Kim tries to translate the horror she felt last night into this morning, but it’s not there. Sunny doesn’t seem like an eldritch horror during the day. Just another teenager happy to be with people he enjoys.

Hero hangs up shortly after, and the group of four settle back into a placid silence. Aubrey breaks it by turning to the others

“I know it was weird, but I’m glad that they came for last night.” the three boys agree, and Sunny leans against the counter near Aubrey so she can scratch one hand under his cat’s neck while still flipping pancakes. When he speaks, his voice is near silent, but they all hear it anyway.

“They’re nice. They didn’t treat me different.”

The hooligans share a look and simultaneously agree to stay for breakfast.

#omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #omori sunny #omori basil #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori hero #mentioned lol #omori kim #omori scooter gang #hooligans #omori hooligans #cryptid sunny

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lovee-infected · 4 years

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Hi there! How would the twst boys react to their s/o being slapped by Eliza 😂. Thanks for feeding us the wonderful headcanons! 💜

I love writing for such brilliant ideas , enjoy !

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle goes blank for a second , unsure what to say or how to react : Half of him wanted to act in and condemn ghosts for their arrogance to lay a hand on you but on the other hand , he knew that he didn't have the right to ; It was their brides choice and she did have the right to do it - which wasn't really pleasant -

You give him a sad look , expecting a show of mercy of sympathy , but he didn't move an eyebrow

You run to a silent corner to cry , and he comes after you . Riddle gives you a hug and apologizes that he couldn't help anything back then

He criticizes your movements as well , how you didn't present yourself properly and why Eliza could've changed her mind

But in the end ; he gives you a small reminder : " Perfect or not , know that you're enough for me ,"

Trey Clover

He got slapped himself so he understands how the world flashed before your eyes for a second

You look a bit down about failing so easily while you were trying to help ; but so did Trey . You get each other on that point

He barely notices it but he literally doesn't know how to flirt , but he tries his best to cheer you up "Ah don't give me that face ! At least you were waaay better than me,"

Well , maybe you weren't such an overly perfect being but neither was Trey , he was just an ordinary guy you'll get to see everyday ; not a stunning prince . It seems like the two of you come from a rather similar level

Perhaps that's why the two of you get along pretty well

Cater Diamond

You didn't expect him to even put his phone down for you but he eventually did ; you find it pretty odd to see him this eager about anything without wanting to share it via Internet , but it also means that he does care for you

He doesn't bother touching your cheek and asking if it hurts

He plants a small kiss on your blushing face and then goes salty again : " So glad that she didn't get you , means you're still all mine ! "

He brings up his phone and before you could've recognized , takes a selfie of him kissing an all shocked you . You beg him to delete it but he isn't listening , but he insures you that this one's a private issue so he won't post it ; perhaps the first selfie he isn't going to share anywhere

Ace Trappola

Trey and Riddle grab his body and mouth before he could do something stupid , how dare she , how dare she slaps you !?

Ace ws already tired of this drama with the hopelessly romantic bride , and you were the final shock .

" SHE IS A HUNDRED TIMES BETTER THAN Y-" Ace tries to shout at Eliza but Riddle grabs him by collar and puts a hand on his mouth : "YOU IDIOT WHAT ARE YOU..."

You come to calm him down , insisting that it's really nothing important , you didn't care . He still seems to be really pissed off at Eliza : " Huh , does she really think that she's any big deal ? My- girls are really crappy sometimes ,-"

Ace refuses to believe that you don't feel any offended so he pulls you to his embrace and keeps on sending you positive vibes non-stop : " You're gorgeous (y/n)! I mean it ! You're smart , talented , dignified ..."

Deuce Spade

He is low-key happy that you two join him at the losers bench . At least you won't now see him as the awkward loser he was in front of Eliza ; not too much to say

"So you too got slapped ?" he tells you he has no idea how to start the conversation

He knows that he is supposed to do something better but he is just blank about it

One half of him wants to hug you and tell that it's fine , then ask if you think he's awkward or something . But the other half just doesn't know what to say

He says that you two must learn some social skills together , that's the most he can do to flirt now : He soft boy

Leona Kingscholar

He actually doesn't mind insulting you a little for getting slapped . He's pissed off himself so he appreciates teasing you

From putting on a cocky smile and smirking to playing with you using sarcastic words

His very last sarcasm seems to be the worst : " I can say that you are way lower than royal standards ,"

But he puts a different end to his words : "...But since I as well got rejected , I guess we're now rejected mates ,"

Is it his sarcastic way of saying a small "I love you" ? Yes it is

Ruggie Bucchi

He didn't bother to come and try proposing , but wasn't expecting for you to try either . He lets out one of his Hyena-like giggles and comes to you

" Was that bride this savage ? Then I'm thankful that I didn't show up ! " he sneakers

He disappears for a second and comes back with an ice-pack : " Geez , it's my third time doing it today . Come over ," he tells you

He already did it for Leona and Jack because he was told to , but he is all ready to give you all those services and more to you

He does enjoy teasing you , but nursing you in situations like this is another hubby of him , after all you're an exception

Jack Howl

He kinda feels guilty about you getting slapped ; he shouldn't have let you tried it anyway . The possibility of you making it was low and you weren't a NRC student anyway

He knows that everyone else were the same but when it was you who got slapped right in front of everyone , he fears it being an issue

He quickly checks on you to see if you're fine and or need a doctor

He is a bit worried about your face swelling so he takes you school's nurse

On your way back , you thank him because of caring for you and he starts to blush and denies it all : " What do you mean ? It was nothing important . No need to thank ,"

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul grabs your hand , wishes Idia a happy marriage and the two of you leave the rest in the middle of chaos

He nags under the lips , telling how he wished others to let him turn her into a little clam

He telles you what an unfortunate soul Eliza is , not only did she die on her marriage day but she also lost perfect lover such as you

He doesn't care about the rest now , so he decides to leave them on their own and instead , have some free time with you

While you wear having some tea at mostrolounge , he shakes head and insults Eliza : " You are surely too much for her , my dear (y/n) . Ghosts always envy humans ; specially when it comes to someone as great as you ~"

Jade Leech

Eliza is now pretty odd to him , first she dislikes the flowers , and now , she rejects you ? Ghosts seem to be even weirder than surface creatures , he thinks

He understands the high standards required while choosing a partner , but you don't seem to lack anything ? How strange

He even cares to ask Eliza about what she might have disliked about you since you don't seem to have any problems , but he avoids it anyway because he isn't ready to get secondly slapped

He offers you a short walk with a bright smile , and you accept

" Miss Eliza surely has weird standards , (y/n) sweetie . You were perfect enough to win ,"

Too bad Crowley insists on them respecting their ghost visitors as long as the stay , Jade is really encouraged to give them a lesson . But uh , he has to have a hold of himself as Octavinelle's vice dorm leader

" Too bad she is dead , flowers would have had an interesting effect if she weren't ," he sighs

Floyd Leech

This bride is getting on his nerves , loud , dumb , in love with a blue , awkward chicken and finds silly excuses to reject everyone proposing to her. If she weren't dead , Floyd would wish her to be . Some brats are better dead

He doesn't see any need to spoil you , but he decides to spill somevtea since it was you " Don't worry shrimpy . You may not be perfect , but she's worse than you , " he flirts .He gives you a tight hug and squeezes you , rambling that it's because Eliza didn't let him do that

He actually finds the red mark on your face cute , saying that it makes your skin color just similar to a shrimp .

He can't help loving your -shrimp-like face - and so , he lowers his head and gives it a small kiss

Vil Schoenheit

If Eliza were alive , Vil would love it now to burn her alive in a huge dig of poison . Or maybe feed him to the dogs , both seem nice

He gently holds your face within his hands and carefully looks at the mark Eliza left behind

He curses under the lips and then pulls you into a soft hug : " Don't mind her love , lowly creatures are unworthy of true beauty , don't let their though bring you down," he mumbles

He absolutely hates being disrespected like this , so he leaves it to Rook and Epel ; though he doubts them being any helpful

He takes you to Pomefiore for firstly , making sure that your slapped face won't swell and then , giving you a full day spa . From extreme showers to putting on your makeup

When you're done , he stares at you through the mirror and smiles : " What an idiot she was to lose this stunning beauty of yours ,"

Rook Hunt

This bride keeps fascinating him , first Vil and now you ? Good god , she is pathetic

Rook really looks up to both of you as a symbol of beauty , grace and in general , perfection . Seeing the two of you being insulted like this is a real pitty

He is being relied on as one of the only four guys who didn't get slapped so he sadly doesn't have much time to comfort you now ; so he comes up with a new idea :

He asks you to give him the pleasure and be his : Bride model ; he has got plenty of tricks up his sleeve , but he still needs to practice them on someone

His long and beautiful poem which was hiding an I love you within its words , and his brilliance ways of winning one's heart leave you speechless ; not ever imagining that he might be this much of a romance man

He practices literally anything he was planning to do with you , and then comes up with the final words : " Dearest (y/n) , would you give me the honor of being your servant of love for eternity ? "

Epel Felmier

You got...what ? Epel was a normal guy at least in his own opinion , Vil senpai was surely beautiful but...not perfect either . But why you ? You didn't seem to have any specific problems . He doesn't like this thing with proposing anyways , so he was hoping someone , specially you , to succeed before he has to...

He is supposed to be practicing dos and don'ts of being a perfect groom , but he just can't do it without checking on you

He comes to you and gives you a tight hug , asking if you're alright

He confesses that he as well is now really scared since he has never even kissed a girl before , but he's going to try his best and put an end into this

He isn't the best of his own , but if a prince on a white horse is what this Ghost needed , he is going to make it , and prove it to you that he can

Kalim al asim

He doesn't know what is going on when you face him with your half red face , he gasps and worriedly starts asking questions : was there a fight ? Did you get hurt ? Was someone trying to bully you ? Who on earth had dared to do this to you !?

You explain the whole issue with he ghost bride and how almost everyone got slapped , making him calm down a bit

He now wants to have a word with this bride , it's rude to slap people just because you don't like them and that really bugs Kalim

Jamil stops him by reminding that it's none of Scarabia's business and as the dorm leader , he has to stay here taking care of more important stuff

Kalim has to agree but he isn't quite satisfied , but he comes up with another way to cheer you up :

" Imagine you're the bride and I'm proposing to you , let's see if I get slapped or not ! "

Jamil Viper

Just as Kalim , he can't imagine why you got slapped for at first but when you explain , he chills a bit

Most of the brides Jamil know gave in to marriage after being given tons of gold and jewelry , but since it is with a ghost , he wondered what might actually attract her. Princesses have to marry people from the same level as themselves , probably a prince or someone pretty rich ; so he isn't really fascinated that you and others all got slapped

He can't help it much , but perhaps insulting all other guys losing their chance is something he would appreciate talking about . It isn't clear if he wants you to feel better by neglecting every other guy or is just trying to chill a bit ; anyways it's joyful for you to talk and having him spending some time with you alone

Idia Shroud

Idia is locked inside the room ,, but he hears sound of you trying to propose to Eliza . His feeling are a bit complicated , both hopeful that Eliza would give up on him because of you and jealous of Eliza , whom you proposed to. No one's here to see him can freely admire your beautiful words coming one after one , and then an unexpected sound : You got slapped

Idia now has lost both his very last hope to get freed and his temper : His hair is slightly turning read . This crazy bride made him lose the global championship league of his favorite video game (since he was tied up by her ) and now slaps you !?

His thoughts are really wild now , especially because of how he can't do anything at all . He wishes he could see you and tell how beautiful and great he thinks your proposal was , hopeful that it'll make you smile

You still went out of his way and tried to free him , and that was more than enough for Idia . All he wishes is to see one more time and get to tell how he feels for you♥

Ortho Shroud

This ghost : Kidnapped his brother and now , slaps you

Who says robots can't feel anything ? Because now , Ortho is mad

He really does want to hack all of NRC's servers and share pictures of ghosts who dare kidnapping and insulting students without the principal doing anything . That'd be an end to Mr Crowley's career but since he isn't doing anything serious , he deserves it

You apologize him because of failing to save his brother , but he just gives you a hug telling how scared he is

You and Idia are the most important people in his life , he just can't stand having you hurt . Not even imagining what he might do if he loses any of you

Malleus Draconia

He wasn't there to recognize this any sooner , but Lilia and Sebek did tell him everything .He shouldn't show up in front of any other students (because they might spoil his real name ) and shouldn't show up in front of any ghosts (because they may catch him and force him to propose ). He was thinking of meeting you in front of ramshackle drom ; your regular corner but since there as well is haunted by the ghosts , he can't help but to wait for this drama to cool down

When you finally return to Ramshackle dorm in the middle of the night , your unexpected guest , tsuno-tarou , is waiting for you

You are suspicious that you didn't see him at all today , so he explains that due to some reasons he couldn't make it . He says hat he doesn't really know what had happened since he stayed in dorm all day , so you go on telling everything from the very beginning . He already knows everything but wants to hear it all from you one more time . He likes to see what they all might've looked like into your eyes . When you're done telling him the story , he giggles and asks one more question ; just curious to see how you'll answer : " So didn't you try proposing , or did you as well get slapped...?"

Lilia Vanrouge

This day was getting more and more complicated... First getting rejected for being too cute and having his 500+ year reputation ruined like this and now , you being the second to get slapped ; this isn't fair

He can help but to let his tears fall , if he's too cute then it's fine for him to cry . Sebek and you freak out in fear of him being through some sort of serious pain or injury , then he just laughs and tells you that he's alright . He just needed to comfort himself but freeing those tears

He doesn't see any need of today getting worse , so he doesn't mind flirting a bit . He jokes on whatever you rejected for not being more frustrating than being too cute and laughs

He thinks that you may like to talk more , so he brings up a more interesting issue : His hundred years experience with women

You are fascinated at how many times he has joined ladies for dances or drinking , yet has never been on a serious relationship

He's actually trying to spill more tea of his low experiements with relationships , hopeful that you get his point

Silver

You return along with Lilia and Sebek. , all of having half of your face red . Silver wasn't there to know what was going on or why Sebek is shouting at him for being a coward not trying to propose like a real man . Poor boy is just blank

Lilia takes Sebek along with him and leaves the two of you alone , so you start telling everything over . He tries his best to hide his laugh at the point where Sebek got slapped but he failed , then Lilia and finally , you

You tell him that you really feel frustrated about failing others and not being good enough , but it makes Silver gently laugh : " Well , from Leona Senpai to Mr . Vil , they all got slapped one by one , doesn't it sound a bit weird ? "

You surely don't get hos point so he continues : " When someone keeps rejecting everyone one by one , it means that they don't really know what they want. They're seeking perfection ; but no one's ever perfect enough for them . Through lovers would still love each other aside lacking too much on their own , and that's what makes their love last : They complete each other "

His words really move you and make you ask how he can tell all these words so beautifully

He gives you small smile and adds : " Well , it's because I've experienced it all with you "

Sebek Zigvolt

Having both master Malleus and you insulted on the same day : This is too much !

You shouldn't have been the one forced propose while others like Silver were laying comfortably on a sofa dreaming of rainforests and colorful birds , it wasn't your right !

He doesn't even ask , he immediately takes you to the nurse office to put a stick on your slapped face . You insist that it's be too much but he isn't listening

He then , apologizes for about an hour for not talking you out of something that wasn't even your duty and promises that there won't be a next time on it

You really get concerned at how stressed out this boy suddenly gets over nothing , so you cut him off by pulling yourself to his embrace and giving him a hug . He freezes at first , but then relaxes and hugs back

" Promise that I'll never let you down (y/n) , never"

♦♥♠♣

Tagging : @lilyholo @yourlittlerunt @minteasketches @epher-posts @takumipineapplexd @yandere-of-your-dreams

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