#I finally caved and decided to post some of my writing

[timdrakesstaff]

1/13/2023 "Duck Oasis" 💤

I'm riding on my board under a cold underpass and decide to take a break from being pelted by rain by entering an opening to a storm drain. It's a weird one; the path inside inclines at an impractical degree for the storm drain's runnoff to the underpass, even though it would theoretically continue through a grate to the stream neighboring the underpass' path.

I practically crawl up the inclined entrance due to the low ceiling. I consider using my board but I'm pretty sure that it would hinder me more then help.

After after a few short plateau stops and turns along the way, I come to a gentle oasis hidden beneath the ground. The lack of light source amazes me. How can I even see all this, let alone anything grow? There is a small pond with smaller diversions of river siphoned from it and trees and grass and bushes and life.

It's beautiful.

I stand in full awe for a moment, taking it all in. How could this have grown here? The earth is soft and moist; the air, humid. The whole oaisis couldn't have been bigger than a classroom at my school, comparatively.

I find some rocks to skip across the pond and attempt to line up with the inflowing river so the skipping can progress further into yet another tunnel. It is while I'm skipping that my attention is drawn towards a duck. A duck and way too many ducklings for them to all be hers. I slowly approach the duck and offer chunks of what would've been my lunch. I don't miss the apple too much.

I sit under a tree for a while, looking at the mostly ivy and moss covered wall and what barren ceiling I can even see the through the canopy above.

Soon enough, I drift back awake to discover the mama and horde of dunklings resting beside me. The only thing missing being a gentle breeze.

I take my time to stand up and stretch and breathe life back into myself before making my way to the enterance and storm runnoff. I sit on my board and attempt to slowly roll myself out, but the sharp inclines have other plans. I find my way out a few minutes later and it is still raining and I am still wet. The dull grey of the sky is darker now, an indicator that I really need to get going.

I come back regularly over the next few months, to help mama watch over the ducklings, I always bring enough snacks for them and myself. I even spend my birthday here, two of them. One of them I invite my school friends, and the other day with different ones.

It's not that I don't want them all to meet someday, they just... Have different interests and one my school friends would totally want to... Connect Dots between those interests. It's easier this way.

My school friends name some of the ducks but lose track of which ones they have and have not named. I tell them I'll name the rest on my own.

I don't.

Instead, when my other friends visit, I point out the ones that haven't been named yet. At least all of my friends across the board are equally excited to name ducks with me.

I get two days full of several cakes since neither group knew who was going to bake it, so everyone made their own. Five cakes to go through. Five! Some... Were better than others.

My birthday passes and I still visit, but there's usually less and less in the duck family when I come by. They rotate out their days, I think, because I still see them all in the oasis on their own time.

I have lots of pictures taken from in here, developed at school and home—whichever was more available. Schoolmates ask where the hell I went to get these pictures, seeing as our city isn't exactly a nature preserve—although, some want it to be... I don't tell.

I experiment with one of my favorite techniques: Double exposure. I have pictures from the city layered with this oasis. In one of the devloped pieces, there's a girl from the city poking a can with her closed umbrella. It's raining but she doesn't care, she's soaked anyways from a car that speeds into a background that bleeds neon signs into oasis foliage. If I had known exactly which pictures would get the exposure, I would have shifted the nature scene shot a couple feet to the right, so the girl would have appeared to be on an exposed paver.

Another photo features a long trail of ducks bobbing down a slow flowing river-turned-asphalt. And another, I posed and kept track of, features a double layered shot of me with both of my friend groups, as if we were all together. It's my favorite one. I have copies of the individual shots too, of course, I shared them with my friends. I debated and sticking the group shot to the wall, but knew when they all visited—they visit individually sometimes, and with me—they would see it plastered on the wall.

Autumn comes and I seek refuge from inpending exams and cold here. It's always a pleasant temperature somehow, I had been worried about the season changes, but it doesn't seem to change in here. The storm drain oasis is its own refuge from the world. But not from time. The plants grown and spread, and the ducks come and go as they please—I am especially sad when they leave for winter. I think I might have expected they'd stay...

I think my favorite time to come is when it rains. It feels like it did that first day, so many months ago.

[fiepige]

Me: I'm not gonna start writing another fic until I've edited and posted every chapter of my current fic so I can put all my energy into finishing it.

Also me: Has just started writing a fic about Hobie and Sage because the fic idea would not leave me alone!!!

[dottyistired]

The missing Journal 3 pages in TBOB are so interesting to me in further contextualizing Ford's mindset of shame regarding Bill. We'd gotten a snippet of it in the original J3 release:

But Bill shows us the less pragmatic motivations behind his actions, the mushy feely stuff he was too embarrassed to properly journal, putting certain series events into new context. Particularly this scene where after a whole episode of dancing around it, he finally opens up to Dipper about the nature of their relationship:

"Bill wasn't always my enemy, Dipper. I used to think he was my friend, long long ago..."

But does he really tell the full truth here? The cat's out of the bag, Dipper knows they had a deal, there's no reason not to tell everything. But Ford proceeds to explain his reasoning for summoning Bill as a purely practical, scientifically-driven one.

"I had hit a roadblock on my investigation of Gravity Falls. Until I found some mysterious writing in a cave. Ancient incantations about a being with answers. It warned me not to read them, but I was desperate."

Desperate...for what? Ford would have us believe it was for the sake of knowledge. Yet TBOB shows us that this is the entry immediately preceding his and Bill's first meeting.

Ford isn't some unfeeling robot powered solely by knowledge, he has human needs. He was lonely, lonely enough to summon a demon for companionship. A companionship so intimate, he describes his meeting Bill as the best day of his life, and laments the periods of absence from him.

That desire for intimacy is ultimately what drove him, and even with all his dirty laundry laid out he can't admit that part to Dipper. Maybe he doesn't even realize it himself, at least not until the post-Weirdmaggedon sections of TBOB:

Under the shame of unleashing Bill Cipher's destruction on the world, there's a much deeper shame: that Stanford Pines is not a lone-wolf, unfeeling sci-fi hero, but a fallible human being, capable of illogical sentimentality and longing for approval and (in)human connection. The exact nature of this sentimentality and longing is left to interpretation, but the efforts he goes to to conceal it make me lean towards something beyond platonic. Alex Hirsch seems to agree:

"I think he is deeply, deeply hiding from his real feelings about things, because at some point early on, he decided that he could run from hurt by achievement and by creation, and has dug that hole so deep that he has no relationships. He doesn't have friendships, he doesn't have romantic relationships, he is someone trapped in a tower of his own mind and estranged. Ford shows none of that. He has sublimated himself romantically so, so deeply. (…) I really thought of Ford kind of like Tesla in that realm.”

TL;DR Ford is up in his feelings about Bill and repressing hard. This is also eerily reminiscent of the self-blame abuse survivors engage in, the hesitance to tell others, and shame over persisting feelings for their abuser.

[fioiswriting]

The sea and the fire

“Fire and water looked so lovely together. It was a pity they destroyed each other by nature.” - R.F Kuang

Summary : when you're married to your childhood sweetheart who becomes your enemy and you get lost in the terrible maze of politics.

[previous chapter] [masterlist]

Rating : None for now, will be explicit 18+ later MDNI

Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader (There will be some Cregan Stark x Reader later)

TW :  none for now except not proofread. TW will be added as the story progresses.

Words count : 4408

AN : Hi everyone!! I hope you're all doing well. So, MONTHS later, I've finally decided to post chapter 2. Sorry for the wait.

[About this story This fanfiction is inspired by an RP I started with my girlfriend (@irmawrites, go check her work) in early 2023, which is still ongoing. My girlfriend writes for her OC (who is the daughter of Viserys and Alicent) as well as for Aemond and Cregan, while I write for my OC (who is the daughter of Rhaenyra) as well as for Aegon and Cole mostly. This fanfiction doesn't cover exactly the same events, I've changed some things, added some others and omitted some. But it follows the main storyline. The character of Irma is a nod to my girlfriend and is based on another of her OCs (Alicent's niece). I'm keen to turn this story into fanfiction and I hope you'll like it! ❤️ I know there's a ton of fanfiction out there based on the Aemond x Rhaenyra's daughter trope. If you don't like it, if you feel uncomfortable, or if you've read too much of it, I'd suggest you read another fanfiction written by one of the many talented authors on this platform ❤️ The story will unfold in several arcs, with the first arc building up the relationship between the reader and Aemond. The tone is therefore lighter. The following arcs (which I can't wait to get to!!) will gradually introduce a lot more angst (my favourite thing to write). The tone will be radically different. Overall, the fanfiction will sometimes be based on elements of the book, and sometimes on the show, with my own interpretations. Please bear in mind that my dialogue will sound very "modern" because I struggle to write medieval dialogue in English, as it's not my mother tongue.]

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

After all that talk, ENJOY <3

Chapter 2 : Familiarity

There was a sense of renewed familiarity. 

You had regained your childhood bedroom and with it your landmarks. Of course, you still missed Dragonstone. And that could seem strange to some - Dragonstone was just a damp cave, a pile of stones perched on a rock. You were in King's Landing, now. You lived in opulence, in a royal comfort unmatched by the perch above the sea where you had spent most of your youth. 

But Dragonstone had a charm you couldn't find in King's Landing. Perhaps it was the stillness of the library where you spent all your time, lost among the scrolls of parchment and the thick tomes, or perhaps it was the sound of the crashing waves that rocked you on stormy nights, you weren't sure.

But somehow a sense of familiarity had returned. Your old room hadn't changed much, despite Alicent's questionable alterations to the decoration of the Red Keep. You had found an old toy in the shape of a dragon, and even some old paper on which you had practised your precise handwriting under the strict gaze of a stern Septa when you were a child. It was a memory frozen in time, a kind of testimony to the past. A room that reflected the little girl you were when you left King's Landing.

But perhaps you could change it to your liking, to reflect the young woman you had become. Perhaps it was a way of keeping you occupied before you left again. After all, your mother had promised that your stay would only be temporary. Just time to sort out some inheritance issues. Time to try and heal your family's wounds. Time to secure your family's future. As if the hope of you all rested on your shoulders; the only guarantee that your family wouldn't descend into a bloody escalation, or something like that. 

And yet, even though you'd only been here a short time, you'd already gotten into trouble, and it was Aemond himself who had to rescue you. You hated the idea.

You hated the fact that he'd come to your aid.

You hated the fact that you owed him, that you were indebted to him.

Fortunately, your little escapade hadn't been reported - you didn't want to disappoint your mother, or see the reproachful look on her face, even though you were aware that she might not be in the best position to make a comment. You were close to your mother. You were her eldest. You were her only daughter. She cherished and loved you, and you knew you could share everything with her. But you cherished your secret freedom, and you feared that her concern for her only daughter would give her the bad idea of assigning you closer supervision.

You didn't need a chaperone. You valued what little freedom your condition as a daughter afforded you.

As you slipped under the sheets, your thoughts kept returning to Aemond. The way he'd protected you, the way he'd carried you on his shoulder - it was humiliating, you weren't an object. And the way you had planted a kiss on his cheek. An impulsive act. A foolish act. You had to admit that you weren't averse to doing it again.

It just didn't make sense. Why had he come looking for you when he'd never answered your letters? He'd probably felt superior, after calling you and your brothers bastards, he'd probably decided you weren't good enough to be his friend anymore.  All this time, all these years, you'd been waiting for a word from him - a mere reply to the letters you'd sent. It never came. You concluded that your friendship had ended, in silence, after all you had done for him; after reassuring him, after holding his hand while the maester tried to repair the broken flesh on his face as best he could.

Had he really been your friend for even one day, or had it all been a facade, a role he'd played? Had he ever been sincere?

You were furious.

Rhaenyra had stroked your hair through every disappointment that gripped your heart like the loving mother she was. Daemon - Daemon had soothed you in his own way, telling you again and again that Aemond wasn't a good man, and that you would save your heart by forgetting him.

But now he had come looking for you. Something had changed. He had taken a step in your direction. You were lost. You were angry, but it was not just anger. There was something else underneath that pile of confusion and resentment. His approach unsettled you. Every step he took towards you, every word he said, sent a whirlwind of conflicting emotions through you. A burning curiosity. An irresistible attraction. 

You hated yourself for thinking it, but maybe your betrothal wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe you could retrieve the complicity of your childhood.

Maybe it had never really disappeared.

In the early hours of the morning, the smell of warm bread tickled your nose even before you felt the warmth of the sun's rays through your chamber window. You rolled onto your side to steal a few more minutes of comfort, stifling a grunt into your pillow. You waited fatefully for the moment when Celia or Jeyne would come and wake you.

"Wake up you lazy groundhog, you've got things to tell me!" 

But the high-pitched, overly cheerful voice that echoed around your room wasn't Celia's, and it certainly wasn't Jeyne's. You sat up immediately, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over you, your fingers rubbing your tired eyes to make sure you weren't dreaming. 

Irma Hightower was standing in your room, in a gown more extravagant than ever. You wanted to throw yourself into her arms.

"It was usually me who overslept in the morning and you who had to wake me up," Irma exclaimed, placing the tray she carried awkwardly under her arm on the table with a loud clatter, causing the tea to overflow from the cup and drip onto the wooden table. "But I reckon that sneaking out seems tiring." She punctuated his remark with a knowing wink before dusting off her dress as if she'd just worked in the straw or done the most strenuous physical labour in the world.

Still too sleepy to make sense of your friend's words, you frowned as you looked around for your two handmaidens, the ones who woke you up every morning, helped you get dressed and brought you your meal. "Where are -"

"I dismissed them for the rest of the morning," Irma replied without letting you finish the sentence. That explained the tray and the near disaster. "But here's your breakfast. Gods, did you know a tray was thatheavy? " She paused briefly, barely giving you time to wake up properly.

Irma Hightower was a tornado. She swept away everything in her path - she carried away hearts and minds with equal ease, leaving a whirlwind of chaos behind her. Wherever she went, she stirred the air with unbridled energy, forcing others to adapt to her frenetic pace or be wiped out by her determination. But it would be a lie to say you weren't happy to see her. You sat down on the edge of the bed and stretched, your arms reaching for the ceiling before tilting your head to one side. A smile curved the corner of your lips as you watched your friend. You wondered what Irma was doing in your room in the early hours of the morning, especially when, last you heard, she was supposed to be in Oldtown furthering her education. 

To tell the truth, you might have had an idea why she was here. You just didn't want to subject yourself to your friend's interrogation - some secrets should remain your secrets.

And what you'd done yesterday was one of them.

"'So?" she asked with a mixture of overflowing curiosity and impetuosity, her brown curls twirling around her face.

"So what?" you sighed as you went behind your dressing screen to remove your nightgown. You slipped into a flowing ocean-blue dress adorned with pearls and embroidery - one of your favourite gowns, a creation that reminded you of your favourite element: the sea. 

Unlike your brothers, you weren't made of fire and blood. You were made of sea and storm, and you knew deep down that this was perhaps hypocritical - your own appearance reminded you of it every day. But it was what your heart had always told you, and you'd come to believe it, too. The feeling of your feet in the water and the breeze on your face, its salty taste against your lips, was the one that brought you the most comfort. 

"So what happened yesterday ?” Irma insisted. Her voice grew impatient. "I saw you.”

But you ignored her, busy wriggling to reach the lacing at the back of your dress. In vain. You weren't flexible enough. "Since you've decided to play the handmaid today, help me get dressed," you replied, appearing on one side of the screen, your hands gripping the fabric tightly, your back to her. Irma rose with a long sigh - it was just for show, you knew - and came over to you. You smiled mischievously. You had to admit that you enjoyed seeing her in this role, so opposite to who she really was. You wondered what her time in Oldtown had been like; whether she'd been treated like the spoilt brat she truly was, or whether, on the contrary, she'd had to learn patience, faith and discipline - all qualities that didn't characterise her. 

"I could actually keep you as my lady in waiting, you know. You'd be good for that. Forced to follow me everywhere, I'd love that." 

You didn't need to see her to know that she rolled her eyes. " I am the Queen's niece. I was made for more than that."

When her fingers became tangled in the lacing of your dress, she spoke again, her voice caressing the back of your ear as she tugged at the lacing with a little more force: "You haven't answered my question."

How could you forget that Irma was so perceptive? And above all, how could you forget that when Irma wanted something, it was impossible for her not to get it? You weren't going to get away. She would insist, until you fell for her angelic pout and her round eyes that tried to win you over.

It reminded you of your shared youth - the times you spent together, swapping secrets and gossip, talking about your joys and sorrows. You had been inseparable before you were forced to return to Dragonstone, and she to Oldtown. 

"Nothing happened. At least nothing like you may think," you admitted, turning to smooth the front of your dress. You whirled around, the fabric rising gently around you like a bluish wave. "How do I look?"

"I wouldn't describe being carried around like a sack of flour on your dark uncle's shoulder as nothing. Especially in your family." 

Irma inspected your outfit, her eyes expertly examining you from top to bottom and then from bottom to top, looking for the slightest detail that would have spoiled her work. She brushed away a stray strand of hair that had fallen across your face.

"Did he kiss you?" Her eyebrows arched, her mouth forming a playful pout of false surprise. She was clearly determined to decipher your every secret, to expose them. You hesitated for a moment, to cast doubt, to let her imagine more - but you were afraid of the repercussions this might have on you. You weren't sure that Irma knew how to hold her tongue. And you didn't want to risk exposing yourself to Aemond's irritation over false rumours. Not when you'd planned to play with him a bit; to prove to him that you had the upper hand, that you could have him wrapped around your little finger and drive him mad. You were still suspicious of him. You hadn't really figured him out yet. You just knew he'd changed since the last time you'd seen him, but you weren't sure how much.

"No, he didn't kiss me," you repeated, putting the same emphasis on the word as your friend. You walked over to the table to sip your still steaming cup of tea. You could feel Irma's round eyes on your back - she was waiting for you to say more. She probably had a dozen unanswered questions: why had Aemond brought you back like this? Where had you been? Who had you been with? What had you done? But you didn't answer right away, biting into the crusty bread.

"He just... came to fetch me," you finally admitted between two bites, your mouth half full - it was a far cry from the princess manners in which you'd been raised. Sitting on your bed, Irma stared at you with her brown eyes - the same as her aunt's. "I was with Aegon. In King's Landing. And I got lost."

That was enough. Irma didn't need to know everything; after all, it wasn't a lie if you only omitted certain details that you deemed relatively unimportant.

Or that Irma didn't need to know.

But the revelation provoked a silence. Your friend didn't answer immediately. Her eyes narrowed, revealing a fine line between her eyebrows, and her lips pursed into a bitter pout. She looked troubled, her fingers twitching in her lap. "I didn't know you were close to Aegon."

If you didn't know her so well, you wouldn't have detected the note of reproach in her voice. Was it jealousy? Was your friend jealous of the time you spent with Aegon?

You weren't sure you understood. He was married - and more importantly, as you remembered, Irma hated him for his debauchery and the alcohol he drank to excess. 

But this was no time to argue, and you preferred to play it safe. There would be plenty of time for your investigation later, when Irma's suspicions would be at rest. "He's my uncle and... he suggested he show me the streets of King's Landing because I was feeling bored." 

And the idea seemed liberating at the time. A moment of stolen freedom, away from the court, away from your duties. Where you were no longer the model princess, the paragon of virtue, but just another girl, lost in anonymity. You weren't sure she understood - she'd always loved the court, the gowns and the politics. You too, of course. It would be a lie to say you weren't made for it; for the life your status as a princess could offer you. You cherished the comforts and loved the responsibilities that came with your role. But sometimes those same responsibilities – and duty above all - stifled you. You needed solitude. To be somewhere else.

"It's dangerous. You could have been harmed!" Irma said, crossing her arms over her chest with an air of concern and annoyance. "You can't just follow a man like Aegon into the city," she sighed.

Some truth was hidden in her words, and you were aware of your lack of rationality, of the stupidity of your foolishness. The danger you had put yourself in, too, for if Aemond hadn't intervened... You didn't want to think about it. The dirty hands and lecherous looks those men gave you still made you shudder. All those risks for an illusory feeling of freedom, wasn't it a high price to pay?

Aemond had come for you. The humiliation still burned on your cheeks. 

"Lost in your thoughts?" Irma asked impatiently, offering you her arm as if she'd waited too long for you to come out of your reverie, "thinking about your Prince Charming again?"

You gave her a little tap on the arm, your eyes raised to the sky at the broad smile that stretched her lips, but you accepted her invitation anyway. "Fine, let's go. I heard that they are training this morning. And I know you're not indifferent to Dornish charm." You winked at her. And arm in arm, you and Irma walked through the corridors of the Red Keep towards the courtyard.

Aemond's movements were precise and swift. Faced with Ser Criston's Morningstar, he moved skilfully, as nimble as a cat. You leaned against the parapet of the ramparts; your eyes riveted on the two silhouettes that seemed to be dancing in the courtyard amidst the small crowd that had gathered around them. Irma didn't miss a moment of the spectacle, and you wondered if there was a man she didn't find charming.  Aemond, probably.  You knew she didn't bear any affection for him - he was too serious, too stern. Too scary, too.

"Did you get tired of Oldtown, is that why you're here?" you asked teasingly, glancing briefly at Irma.

She leaned towards you as if to share a secret, not taking her eyes off the show the two men were offering. "They didn't want me anymore," she confided. "I used to drive the maesters and the septas mad. It was amusing."

You should have known better. Irma was too stubborn and brash to be around men and women who had dedicated their lives to knowledge. She was intelligent, there was no denying that, but she lacked the patience and diligence that the study of texts demanded. Though she had spent her childhood in King's Landing, perfecting her courtly education at her aunt's side, her rebellious attitude had sent her straight back to Oldtown. And then, she had threatened the Maesters and the Septas - she belonged at Court and she was convinced of it.

"And how is Daeron?" 

"As courteous and charming as ever," she replied. 

Aemond disarmed Cole and everyone applauded; including Jace and Luke, who you could recognise in the crowd. Your betrothed's eyes shifted from the spot he was staring at in the crowd - your brothers? - and looked up at you for a moment. You wondered if Aemond had seen you, if he had felt your gaze on him, and if that was why he had become fiercer in his attacks. A strange sensation arose in your belly, as if a swarm of butterflies were fluttering in your stomach, making your heart beat faster.  You forced yourself to suppress your emotions, which you blamed on all the time you'd spent away from Dragonstone. You refused to admit that it was Aemond's gaze that you sought more than any other, especially after the events of the previous day. Especially when you could still feel his skin against yours, his firm hands around your body, his face just a few inches from yours.

You wondered what had possessed you to kiss him on the cheek. 

You wanted to play with him, that was certain. But you refused to subject your heart to the whims of love. Not after the heartache you'd felt when you found out he'd forgotten you so easily.

It was nothing serious.

You met Aemond's gaze. The intensity of his lilac eye had this very capacity to send shivers down your spine.  He didn't even crack a smile, and looked away as if nothing had happened.

"I'll see you later," Irma said, squeezing your arm, before turning on her heels to - presumably - find some male company. Once you were alone, you walked down the steps that led from the ramparts to the courtyard. Your steps instinctively brought you to where Aemond was standing, ready to sheathe his sword.

If he seemed surprised to see you, he didn't show it. His icy eye rested on you, unreadable as ever.

"Lady Strong."

"We should talk," you began, ignoring the unpleasant way he had just addressed you. Lady Strong. The nickname left a sting of humiliation, and under normal circumstances you would have reacted. You would have defended yourself, you would have thought of something witty to retort - but today you had decided to take a step towards peace. You had decided to show that you hadn't come here with any animosity, even though everything inside you was screaming to make him swallow his insolence.

"There is nothing to talk about," he replied mechanically. Cold. Distant. Disinterested. Syllables sharp and icy. 

But yes, there were a thousand things to talk about; the betrothal that would lead to your certain future marriage, the events of yesterday, the letters he had never answered, his hostile and cold attitude towards you. There were all these things and more, but neither of you seemed to know how or where to begin.

"About yesterday -"

"I haven't spoken a word to anyone. Your little secret is safe with me. You can rest assured, niece."

That's not what you meant. It wasn't that you wanted to talk about - it was everything around it; it was the reasons, it was how he had found out, it was the consequences, it was the kiss on his cheek, it was the thick tension between you that you were sure he had felt too. It was all these things.

You took a step towards him. Suddenly you felt yourself bubbling. And as if you'd grown wings, you closed the distance between you without looking away.

"Why?" you asked, your tone more urgent. You wanted to push him over the edge. You wanted him to admit what you knew for a fact that he would never be able to. "You could expose me. Tell everyone about my little escapades. Make me lose all credibility. End our betrothal." You paused, leaning your body towards him, your warmth mingling with his.

You felt him hold his breath. He tensed, straightening his neck, tilting his head slightly to the side to watch you.

"Why exactly would I do that, Lady Strong?"

Because you hate me, you were tempted to reply. Because you hate me, just as you hate my brothers. Because you cut me off all those years ago, without a word. And despite all the affinities that could bring you together, despite the fond memories of your shared childhood and your closeness, despite the love you harboured for him, you were loyal to your siblings, like he was to his. Whatever you did, you would always be associated with them. Your family. So wasn't it normal for him to see you as an extension of the hatred he felt for them?

At your silence, he continued, this time in High Valyrian: "I am not the one who despises the other. You know that."

Hate was nothing more than a form of passion.

But you weren't sure it was hate you felt for Aemond - no, the hate would come later, stronger, hotter than ever.  For now, you felt disappointment and a form of betrayal after the friendship that had bound you together for more than a decade. 

"I am not the one who is determined to make you my enemy." 

Enemy, like water to fire. Trying to destroy each other by nature.

"And yet, you treat me like one," you replied. Sharpness staining your voice. 

He let out a hm. He was still staring at you; the sensation was almost disturbing. He took a step in your direction, violating your breathing space. You had to lift your head to maintain eye contact. Then he leaned towards you, the corner of his lips turned up slightly in a smirk.

"I wouldn't have come to rescue you if you were my enemy."

The words barely out of his mouth, he straightened and took a step back, giving you the courtesy to walk away as your cheeks turned red. You didn't need him to remind you of what had happened yesterday. The memory was still frozen in your mind, clear and intact. The ghost of his touch like a burn. You wondered if he felt the same; if he thought about your lips on his cheek, if they had left an invisible, indelible mark on his skin, like his fingers on yours.

You had to change the subject. Quickly. Before you got caught at your own game. 

Your hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword on the table beside the training area. You lifted it. It felt heavy in your hand, still warm from Aemond's grip.

It was strange, this power in your hand. A weapon that could take a life. Too big and unsuitable for your delicate fingers, but fascinating. 

"Teach me."

"No," he replied immediately, following your every move with his icy gaze, as if he feared you might hurt yourself. You rested the heavy sword on the wooden table before turning. You approached him again.

"Daemon taught me how to use a dagger. At least he taught me where to aim to hurt." You flatten your hand against his chest, just below his ribcage. His body stiffens beneath your palm. "He said it was to protect me from dangerous men." Your gaze travelled from your hand to his eyes.

Aemond chuckled. He didn't try to push you away. On the contrary, he kept your hand pressed against him. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, and he guided your hand to his jugular, where you could feel his heart throbbing against your fingertips.

"First lesson: that is where you aim to kill." Caught off guard, you tried to withdraw your hand, but Aemond held it in place, your fingertips on his skin, your eyes both searching and challenging each other. The air was charged. Tense. Like a cloud before a storm. You held your breath. "But you wouldn't dare hurt a fly."

He released your wrist and gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to step back until your back hit the table. He leaned in. His face so close to yours that you could almost feel his warm breath melting into yours. A few inches and you could close the gap between your lips. A few inches and -

"Well, niece. I hope to see you for dinner. And, of course, I expect you to behave."

With that he released you. With that, he turned on his heel. 

He stopped. And without looking back, he added: "And please. Don't make a habit of me saving you. 

Well, you were evenly matched.

[angelicsoka]

PERFECT, q. hughes

word count | 0.5k 

pairings | quinn hughes x plus size!reader

summary | quinn realizes his girlfriend doesn't see herself the way he sees her.

warnings | not proofread. no use of “y/n”. slightly suggestive content. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | i’m sorry i havent posted anything, i have had no time or motivation to write :/// but i was finally able to sit down and write this. it is not personally my favorite thing i’ve written but i need to post something. anywayyy enjoy!!

quinn hughes was obsessed with his girlfriend. every little thing from her perfections to her flaws; she was perfect in his eyes. however, what she saw in the mirror was the farthest thing from perfect. although she was insecure, she never voiced them in fear someone would agree. so she stayed silent, smiling through it all. 

quinn had come to her a few days prior about finally hard launching their relationship, something she was hesitant about. however, one look at his excited eyes made her cave. they decided that they would take some cute pictures during their picnic date they had planned out, deciding to post them later that night. 

the two watched as the post quickly blew up, positive comments rolling in, the hateful ones not far behind. she did her best to ignore them, placing her phone on do not disturb. it was when quinn finally fell asleep that she began to read them.

they varied from simple jealous comments about quinn having a girlfriend, to the ones that pointed out every stretch mark, every scar, every flaw. she sat there, reading each hateful comment and DM, tears streaming down her face silently. she hadn’t realized quinn had woken until she felt him shift, a confused look on his face. she moved quickly to wipe her tears but it was no use, he had already seen them. “hey, what's wrong?” he moved to sit up, his hand settling on her cheek, moving her head slightly to look at him.

“nothing. it's nothing.” quinn gave her a pointed look, a sigh escaping from her lips. “‘m just lookin’ at the comments on the post, ‘s all.” quinn gently took the phone out of her hands, his eyes squinting at the bright screen. 

“you know these aren’t true, right?” quinn said after a moment of reading them. she couldn’t even look at him. “you are the most beautiful girl i think i’ve ever laid my eyes on.” she rolled her eyes at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “also, jealousy makes a person ugly, so already you are more beautiful than them.” she giggled at that, snuggling into quinn as he rested his arm around her shoulder. “plus, i think the only person’s opinion that should matter is me. well, and you i guess.” quinn smiled down at her, wiping the stray tear.

“i love you, quinny; but you know, they aren’t exactly wrong.” she pointed out, still doubting him slightly. quinn scoffed at that:

“okay, you’re right to having an opinion about yourself has been revoked!” she laughed at that, a smile finally settling on her face. quinn maneuvered them so he was looking down over her. “i guess i’m just gonna have to show you every perfect thing about you then.” she looked at him, eyebrows furrowed as he started with her face. 

“well, i’ll start with your dimples,” he kissed both of her cheeks before moving on, “and your lips.” yet another kiss. “and your moans.” he moved down to her neck, sucking at the skin to entice a moan. he looked up with a smile before gradually getting lower down her body, kissing every little thing he loved about her. once he finished, he settled in beside her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead as he did so.

“i love you so much, and i just want you to remember that even when you feel like you can’t love yourself, i’ll still love you.”

[lowkeyrobin]

Charlie Slimecicle x Reader

But its like streaming together for the first time and its just really sweet while he teaches you to play Minecraft:)

<3

yesyeysysysyyseyyseseysyes this is actually my first time writing for him other than that one sorry boys preference 😭🙏 ; I had no idea how to get from point a to point b so I'm so sorry lmao

SLIMECICLE ; minecraft tutorial

summary ; charlie teaches you how to play minecraft on stream

warnings ; language

genre ; fluff

word count ; 758

masterlist

You met Charlie in your freshman year of high school, and finally, by your senior year, you were dating. Now, at twenty-five, you were happy with your lives and peacefully living. He was a full-time content creator, and you were working at a department store, just a job to pay for classes to get the degree you were hoping to get.

You'd appeared in a stream or video here and there. You were relatively camera shy and didn't like disturbing your boyfriend while he was working, so you didn't show your face to his fans very much other than Instagram posts.

But, he'd gotten the genius idea to invite you on his stream and teach you how to play Minecraft. You knew stuff here and there about the game, but not a lot. All you really knew was blocks and the insane amount of friends he had, and eggs.

You sit down in a chair next to him, picking at your fingers as he begins the stream, giving you a warm welcome for chat. You give the camera a wave, looking to Charlie as he explains why you're here and what you'll be doing.

"Okay, so WASD is to move, mouse is to look around"

"Okay" You nod, using the mouse to look around, seeing you'd spawned in a dark oak biome. "Oooo, I like this place. Wait, this is one of those biomes you were playing in VR with Traves and Schlatt"

He nods and chuckles, "Yeah, yeah. Hold down the left mouse button to break blocks and get some wood."

You nod, doing as he says, gathering the dark oak wood. "I'm guessing walking, talking egg children are QSMP only" You joke, taking notice of the lack of eggs.

"Honestly, there is two types of eggs but they don't walk or talk, if that's any better?"

"Two?"

"Chicken eggs and the Ender Dragon's egg"

"Oh!"

You progress through the game a bit, getting better as you play.

You're now wielded with iron tools, golden boots from a nether portal ruin, and an iron helmet. Charlie speaks about the nether, which got you in a bit of a panic since, yes, you wanted to try and beat the game, but you didn't want to die and lose all your items, either. You definitely weren't loaded enough to go try and get a bunch of blaze rods and trade for ender pearls, so you decided to explore the massive caves to try and find diamonds and more iron, for now.

Charlie watches you, proudly. He shows you all the tips and tricks and teaches you what items do, how they work, and how to craft them.

"Oh, get out! Get out! That's a warden cave, out! Go! Go, go!" He exclaims, eyes widening.

"What?" You ask, quickly backing up as you look at the torch light illuminating the dark blue blocks. You hear a rustling sound in the headphones and quickly panic, running back where you came from.

"Wardens are so OP, dude, you'll get demolished. The abandoned cities have awesome gear and loot, though"

"Then let's go get it!"

"The wardens, Y/n"

You slowly look between him and the screen, and quickly type a little /gamemode peaceful in chat, switching the game mode.

"Y/n!" He giggles, "I thought you didn't wanna cheat"

"Well, I want rare shit. Thank your chat, dude." You shrug with a smile, heading back down towards the abandoned city.

You end up finding nearly a stack of diamonds down there, plus a bunch of enchanting books and music discs. Charlie was hyping you up the whole time and deflecting the fact you were in peaceful, using the responses of "they're scaring the wardens away" and "the wardens are there, they're just hiding" for the bit.

"Okay, I think I got everything"

"Oh, you don't leave"

"Huh?"

"You never leave.. you never leave once you enter" He begins to do the dark and scary voice while he quickly types in the /gamemode hard into chat, summoning a few wardens around you.

You yelp and quickly sprint away, taking a solid five hearts of damage from one hit. You're unable to turn the game back to peaceful as you try your best to run away. You attempt to build straight up but are hit again, killing you.

All your items burst out of your inventory as you stare at the 'You died!' screen, jaw hanging agape. You slowly turn your head towards the brunette next to you as chat explodes with comments.

"Charlie!"

[megbanned]

I got a qeustion!

So pretty sure your mascot is- MB right? Well I’m curious…

Do they have any character lore or a story? Or just serve as a persona?

I think they look pretty adorable ✨

Was just curious since idk if they have any funky powers, but one of your posts has fire around them? Soooo-

Hi!

MB it's my sona and OC, both things I think XD

And yes, they have Lore!

This is a general reference of how they looks-

MB goes for They/Them in case you get a bit confused-

But for the lore: Right now I'm inspired to write, so expect a LOT of text, some things could be misspelled since I use Google Translate to write-

This image explains it more x'D

Basically it is a subtype of Worker Drone that works Underground at high temperatures where humans and normal worker drones may not be able to withstand that much heat.

They have shiny parts that allow them to light the way, such as their horns and tails. These parts appear to be made of lava, but it is another equally hot material that in turn helps them create mining tools.

This information is new and I did not explain it before: instead of having normal WD feet, they have paws, this in a way helps to feel the vibrations of the ground, as well as feeling that someone is nearby or that the cave where they are possibly about to collapse.

The hotter it is, the more efficient they are, however you should not let them consume each other or things will happen-

BUT Now that the planet froze What is MB's role? Survive

Due to the explosion caused by humans, the artificial heat that the MB colony maintained began to run out and they had no idea how to fix what gave them life, where could they get more heat? They need to consume that to live… They are made of heat, aren't they? They attacked each other until little by little there was no one left.

MB had to grow up during these conflicts and fights over the heat, he had never known what was above them even though some left the colony and did not return (they did not return since the Dissasembly drone killed them, curiously the DD did not come down to the colony since entering the caves was dangerous if you didn't know where to go, so the DDs who entered also died of overheating from not eating)

Due to certain decisions, 4 UWD (Underground Worker Drone) killed the few that remained of the colony, there was no more heat, there was nothing more to consume, MB fled the colony before they killed them, which meant that he had to go up to the surface, it took them a while to get there due to the different caves, MB met 2 other UWDs but no good things happened, when MB finally reached the surface it was not as they imagined it, it was even more spacious, and a great light covered everything, MB had seen the sun for the first time, something they had only heard from stories from other older UWDs, it didn't provide him with as much heat because of the cold snow but it was better than being down and dying.

While MB walked through this spacious place they couldn't help but see parts of other UWDs on the ground, as if something or someone had torn them apart. This terrified them, believing that the surface would be just as brutal as underground, but still decided to investigate, finding traces who were guiding to a camp seeing bodies of… Worker drones???, it was the first time MB had seen the body of a Worker drone, MB had only heard about them again because of what they told them, with the hope that they could help him to look for a warm area, MB was looking for them in that camp, but only saw abandonment and destruction, until saw the tracks left by the tires of a certain machine, a type of transport was what MB thought of, so they followed these tracks, it was a long road and the sun was beginning to set and their internal heat was not going to help for a long time, at one point and near a certain place MB ended up getting cold and collapsing because of it.

They found MB's body, they didn't know what type of Drone it was due to its appearance, but its visor showed the image "Low Temp", so they looked for something that could provide heat and a heater could help with that, for now.

Andddd this is a mexican drone- If MB were on the show, would speak completely in Spanish just like Doll speaks Russian.

SOOO this is what I have for now of MB Lore XD

The inspiration for some of the UWD lore was the Naica crystal caves located in a part of my country. sooo probably I will draw something about it later

OH

and MB original design was this one

I later wanted to convert it into a Worker Drone and ended up creating a whole subtype of WD and the lore that I wrote previously.

SORRY IF I WROTE A LOT, I FEEL INSPIRED ASDSADASDSAD

[draconesmundi]

What species of dragons are found in Africa? What clades do they belong to?

ooo so I was wanting to do a Smaugust Post about this but I was unsure how, so I'll just reply to this question with 12 very rushed dragon doodles...

(edit; to be clear this is in my creative project Dracones Mundi, not 'real dragons' or a comprehensive list of mythology. Dragon designs inspired by mythology)

Click the 'keep reading' to learn more!

West African Rainbow Serpent (Dracovermidae: Afroserpens iris)

This dragon is specifically a 'west African rainbow serpent' to differentiate been this and the Australian rainbow serpent. The West African Rainbow Serpent is based on West African folklore (Vodun tradition among other things, deities such as Ayedo Wedo etc.) and the physical design is based on an art sculpture of Ayedo Wedo a friend sent me a picture of (black head, white neck collar) + some snakes I like (spots with dark rims) + rainbow gradient.

Grootslang (Dracovermidae: Afroserpens magnus)

A gigantic dragon with diamond eyes said to live in caves under South Africa - looking into South African caves to discover there are vast bodies of water in huge caves was an experience - the above design is a loose idea, the final Grootslang for the Dracones Mundi project may look different...

Elephant Eating Serpent (Dracovermidae: Afroserpens aethiopicus)

Based on bestiaries saying 'big serpents in Africa wrap elephants in their coils'.

Chicken Headed Serpent (Afroserpens gallocephallus)

I might merge this design with the existing cockatrice design (see further below), only time will tell...

Nile Serpent? (Dracovermidae: Dracovermis hydra)

Huge serpent found in the Nile, and in the Mediterranean. Inspiration for Apep/Apophis in Egypt, but also for the Hydra in Greece.

Congan Plated Dragon (Testudracidae: Stegosuchus monstrum)

Large dragon that lives in the Congo Basin - inspired by Mokele Mbembe, Emele Ntouka and Mblieu Mblieu Mblieu

Dinodrakes (Drakonidae: Dinodrako...? )

Silly dragon I put on Madagascar - not inspired by folklore, these are just funny dinosaur inspired dragons. Mr Razzledazzle and his beautiful big wife.

Green Wyvern (Megaviperidae: Megavipera virida)

Based on Europeans slapping a little green dragon on maps of Africa for 'Aethiopia', 'here be dragons'. Also this is Saint George's dragon, so in versions of the legend where the saint fights the dragon in Libya I decided to put the green wyvern in Libya. Green wyverns therefore have a wide distribution in Dracones Mundi as Saint George has fought the dragon throughout North Africa, the Middle East and Europe.

Kongomato (Megaviperidae: ?)

A swimming dragon that lives in Zambia - it can grab boats with it's powerful jaws, swim with it's powerful tail and has huge wings. I am not certain on this final design, working on it...

Cockatrice (Medaviperidae: Basilliskos gallimimus)

CHICKEN DRAGON. Very deadly. Found throughout the world, including Africa.

Jaculus (Megaviperidae: Pteraserpens jaculus)

Jaculus, the javeline serpent, can fly at intense speeds, stabbing prey with it's sharp face.

Terrorsaur (Megaviperidae: Pteroserpens...?)

Silly dragon based on "what if janky cartoony green pterodactyls are dragons?" and then I found a lot of cryptozoology places 'pterosaurs' in central Africa. Playing with this concept, nothing solid yet.

...

There are some other African dragons that I'm not sure about including - Ninki Nanka is something I have had on my radar for a while but I could not find enough info on it to write or draw something (recently looked it up again and there is more info wow... Okay next draft will include Ninki Nanka!!!!)

and Akhekhu which I had in a previous draft then abandonned. Might put him back in. Not sure if he's dragony enough?

So in this current roster of African dragons we have 6 inspired by African folklore and mythology (Grootslang, Rainbow Serpent, Nile Serpent, Congan Plated Dragon, Kongomato, Chicken Headed Serpent) 4 inspired by European mythology saying 'this lives in Africa' (Cockatrice, Green wyvern, Jaculus, Elephant Eating Serpent) and 2 I made up just for fun (Dinodrakes and Terrorsaurs)

[everythingelseisextra]

Those Nights

Request: No. Description: On clear nights, you choose to leave your bed with Tommy and watch the stars. A miscommunication is made, and a new routine is born from it. Warnings: Language, sexual implications Word Count: 1356 Author's Note: Loosely inspired by @dearshelby's post on historical characters not being particularly Therapized(tm). I wanted to write a quiet fic about how Tommy might react to a small conflict. Of course, I made the reader character the world's best communicator, which I hope isn't too irritating.

You don’t sleep anymore. Not on clear nights like this. 

The balcony opens onto ink, speckled with light, a midnight city pulled into the obscure blush of gray and black and faint yellows and oranges. Smog clears and suddenly you’re drowning in the ocean of a blackened world overgrown with pinpricks of light. You lean your head back and stare up, and you melt into the endless. Souls echo the world around them, and yours, on nights like these, feels like the day you fell in love. Clear and bright and hopeful, like anything is possible. 

You wonder about the tunnels. About cave ins and claustrophobia, about the constant stench of stagnant water and the rot of feet stepping through it. About the ache of his back as he crouches to slowly kick clay, trying desperately to make it out alive, to survive another night. You wonder if it was overwhelming to finally breathe fresh air, to look up at an open world and know that, soon, he'll have to go back under. You wonder if the dead fear the sky. 

As if on cue, the door to the bedroom behind you opens. You sense him before you see him. Exhaustion radiates off of him, so tired it feels as though he’s eating himself trying to rest, cannibalistic desperation. You close your eyes and feel his presence move next to you. He’s warm. Hot, even, as though he’d been sweating. 

Silence hovers between you, perfect, cool and untouchable. It’s a quiet you have had to learn how to break over time, because he never will. So brave, and yet too timid to reach out, to seek some form of comfort or help, that you’re always the one to ask.

“Another nightmare?”

“Yep.” A pause. Still with your eyes closed, you feel him shift away from you, step aside on the balcony. The precipice of vulnerability. The space between you looms. “You were out here.”

“Enjoying the night,” you confirm, and open your eyes to look at him. Your heart sinks. He’s pale, even more so than usual, and the shadows under his eyes sink deep into his skin. Though he’s steady, face set in a neutral expression, you know better. There’s a slight puffiness to his eyes that tell you he’s been crying. More than a nightmare. 

He nods. His jaw tightens, then relaxes. When he looks up, the stars reflect in his eyes, like sparks through the ice, burning despite the cold. 

You decide to ask, to try to coax something like an explanation from him, to at least show him that you know him. “What else happened?”

“Nothing,” he answers immediately. 

“No, not nothing. There’s something. I can see it.” You hesitate, then place a hand on the balcony railing between you, an offer. “I can feel it.”

“Always the empath, aren’t you?” His voice hardens, his eyes flick down to the city around you. Defending himself from your prying, shutting you down, tightening the hatches. You know this game, after years of being with him. And, although it’s a strange way of thinking, you know how to win it. 

“I just know you.” You leave your hand there, holding onto the wood of the railing, fingers gently tracing the grain. “Not an empath. Just your partner.”

“None of your fucking business.” 

“Tom, you sound like a child.” You hide a smile. It’s a good thing his pettiness and asshole tendencies make you laugh. Your relationship would have ended years ago if they didn’t. “It is my business if you’re going to sulk for days because I didn’t read your mind.”

He scoffs, then sobers. Quiet for a moment, staring down at his crossed arms, the fluff of his hair falling over his eyes. “I wake up from a tunnel and you aren’t there.”

Oh. You take a deep breath and stare out at the city lights, the little glints of heat in the Birmingham cold. You are fluent in his language, and it’s your job to translate him, put into words what he likely never will be able to. 

“You felt abandoned by me because you were alone when you woke up.”

“Sounds fucking pathetic.” 

“Sounds human. You’re human, remember?” You nudge his shoulder, trying to coax a smile from him and failing. 

Again, his jaw tightens. There’s still something he’s holding onto. 

“And… It scares you. Being alone in the dark again.” You shrug. “It makes sense. I’m sorry. I get wrapped up in the world.”

“I’m not scared of the dark.” 

“I know you’re not. I think you are scared of being left alone again. After Grace.” 

That was the last straw, apparently. He turns and starts back towards the bedroom, arms still crossed, walking with that hunter’s walk he’s developed over the years. You follow him and grab his arm, stopping him.

“Look, you need to talk to me. It doesn’t need to be much.” You pull his arm so he turns to face you. Blue eyes stare defiantly into yours, almost childlike in their anger. “Haven’t I earned that much from you?”

“You’re right. You’re always bloody right.” He almost spits the words, then calms, taking a huffing breath. “We made a promise. We said we’d be there.”

Defensiveness spikes in you, makes you open your mouth to retort, but you hesitate, think it through. When you do speak, the words land softly. You can’t engage with him, can’t fall to his level of accusations and insults. “I know. Sometimes I won’t be able to be there. I can learn, though. I can listen to you. I won’t leave you alone at night, then. I’ll just open the windows so I can feel the air. Is that an okay compromise?” 

His eyes flick around you, taking in the nocturnal grandeur around you, the natural and unnatural starlight, the faint gray haze of the coming dawn. Finally, they land back on you, and he gives a slight shake of his head. “Wake me.”

“What?”

“On nights like this. Wake me. No need for a compromise.” 

You smile a little. “You’d sacrifice your precious sleep for me?”

His expression turns sly, the closest he gets to flirty these days. His head tilts and he looks at you sideways, matching your smile.  “Haven’t I already?”

You take him by the wrist and pull him towards you. “Yes. Would you consider wasting some more time with me tonight?”

His eyes drift, slowly moving their way down your body, drinking you in, and the cool night air flows around you, chilling your bones and contrasting to the faint heat on your cheeks. He pulls you in and gently, so gently, kisses you. You smile against him, one hand reaching up to hold him, the other resting on his hip. You sway there, then, when you can’t stand the earnestness of the moment, you gently push him back towards the bedroom. 

“We can have some fun.” You smile at him, toying with the hem of your shirt, then the waistline of your pants. “Be good and go lie down for me, won’t you?”

Falling into the usual routine of him, for once in his life, letting go of some control, he steps back, eyes stuck on yours. “Yes, love.” 

From then on, when the nights clear out and the moon shines through the cracks in the shutters, you roll onto your side and stare over at him. Eyelashes long, eyes moving beneath pale eyelids, dreaming, breathing slow and steady. The old tattoo on his shoulder that you consider the mark of a tragedy. Sometimes, you choose to let him sleep, curling into his side and drifting back off. But, mostly, you crawl on top of him, straddling him and slowly letting your weight grind down on him until he wakes. It’s gentle, and his sleep is deep, but when his eyes blink open, he looks up at you, and you watch his pupils slowly expand.

“One of those nights?” He murmurs, resting his hands on your hips, slipping his thumbs beneath your shirt. 

“One of those nights,” you confirm, and lean down to kiss him.

[lorkai]

*･゜ﾟ Three reasons to love him

*･゜A/N: This has been seating on my drafts for some time now and maybe it's just me being me, but I don't like how this turned out. But if I don't post this now then I'II probably never will tbh. Enjoy! @sweetbydarkness

"I don't understand how you can love someone like that," Epel said, leaning over the bed and pretending to vomit on the impeccably clean floor of his room. The topic of dating always reminded him of your poor taste in men, in his own words.

The boy tried to make a grimace, but the black mask that Vil had applied to his face a few minutes ago prevented him from expressing what he felt. He resorted to waving his hands frantically to release the contained anger within his small body. "This mask bothers my face, and he forces me to do this every day. It's ridiculous, he's ridiculous, and you're ridiculous too. Everyone is ridiculous!"

You pretended to be offended, rolled your eyes, and pushed him away with your foot. But Epel was used to dodging Rook's cunning attacks and dodged at the last second to the other side of the bed, smiling like a true idiot once he was out of your reach.

"Oh, the great wisdom of humanity, if you had kept your mouth shut during the selection, Vil would never have looked in your direction and decided to 'torture' you, abominable cave creature," you reminded him with a laugh.

The boy pretended not to hear you as he scrolled through posts on Magicam carelessly, holding back from scratching his own face and ruining the mask Vil had applied to him. There was no way he would go through that torture twice in the same night.

Finally, he looked up at you again, letting out a tedious sigh, wondering how you could love someone as strict as Schoenheit.

Epel couldn't even remember how it happened. All he knew was that he woke up one day and realized a special sparkle existed in your eyes and a smile on your lips every time the blond was nearby or when you heard his voice, or when someone mentioned his name. Love was a beautiful feeling, as his grandmother had told him so many times, and yet, he rolled his eyes trying to find a single good quality for someone to love his dorm leader.

In his perspective, his dorm leader was just a cruel tyrant. Schoenheit was always talking about beauty and effort, but Epel didn't care about any of that. The boy had more important concerns in mind.

Anyway, he hoped that you two would start dating soon so that he would have more free time to jump in mud puddles and challenge Savanaclaw students to a fight — or that's what he liked to think, as he preferred to forget that Rook would keep an eye on him.

"Aren't you going to confess?" He suddenly asked.

And you felt the wave of shame rise on your face as you remembered all the plans you had created and shared with him, seeking a second opinion. One idea was more cliché than the other, and after a while pondering more ideas, you convinced yourself that it was better to simply express your feelings to him face to face. Nothing was better than a sincere confession, in your opinion. That's what you had decided, yet you hadn't mustered the courage to confess to him.

And how could you? He was almost a god, and that look in his beautiful eyes could intimidate anyone. Beautiful lilac eyes that made you smile every time he looked in your direction.

"Aren't you writing a letter? Did you give up on it?" He laughed bitterly. He endured hours of suffering and torture listening to the silly content you were writing. Epel felt a vein pulsating on his forehead at the fact that you had chickened out, and your expression didn't help at all.

"Well, I finally don't have to hear oh perfect Vil, oh gentle Vil again. For the love of the seven, I wanted to eat lava and die if you read those lines to me again!" He laughed loudly.

You looked at him and narrowed your eyes as if that would make him explode. In your mind, he was exploding into a thousand pieces, but you took a deep breath and rolled your eyes again.

Epel was even worse than you when he had a crush. He talked about his beloved for hours on end with a silly smile on his face, but he also didn't have much courage to confess, and when he tried, he started shouting and blushing.

"I could list a thousand reasons why Vil Schoenheit is perfect!" You confidently murmured aloud. A foolish smile once again spreading across your face as your friend looked disapproving.

He waved his hand as if to shoo away an annoying fly and laughed condescendingly, prolonging his laughter to irritate you a little more. "I doubt it!" Crossing his arms, Epel looked at you challengingly. "Tell me at least three reasons why you love him."

"What an outrage!" You naturally mimicked Sebek's way of speaking as you decisively looked back at your friend. "How dare you question Your Excellency in this way? But very well, I suppose I can entertain you for now, ungracious human. Feel grateful to be able to hear the qualities of my good lord."

Heat rose on your face as you let your mind wander through your memories and shared moments with Vil. A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you imagined Vil's beautiful and intimidating eyes staring at you, a smug smile growing on his lips as he heard everything you would say about him.

And clearing your throat, you began to speak in an almost timid tone but gaining your usual confidence as you spoke.

"Well… You see, I love the fact that Vil is very diligent and responsible. He literally created a specific skincare routine for each student in his dorm, thinking about even those who have some type of condition or allergy. That takes dedication and a great attention to details, he takes good care of his underclassmen, you gotta give him that." You said, taking a few seconds to continue.

You thought about all the moments you witnessed someone running up to Vil to tell him about what they had achieved with the help and advice he offered, and how his eyes softened with genuine joy because of it. With Vil, it was always about the little things.

He was happy if someone had fixed their posture, spoken in public without stuttering, or tried his products even with a busy routine. And he always showed it.

Perfection begins with small steps, you remember him telling you one day, as he helped with your eyeliner.

"I understand it can be uncomfortable to be approached by him suddenly and have a bunch of products thrown into your arms while he says you need to change this or that, but it's his way of showing he cares, Epel." You laughed, recalling just hours ago when the lilac-haired boy sought refuge in your dorm.

And how later he was approached by a certain hunter and the queen barging into the Ramshackle and how he was dragged all the way through to Pomefiore. And you were brought along to keep Epel company during his routine. Your face heating again as you remembered Vil's soft fingers touching your face and the focused look on his face.

"Maybe you'll understand in a few years." Epel rolled his eyes at your remark. You were not that much older than him.

The boy wrinkled his nose, furrowed his brow, and looked away behind you as if he found the ceiling more interesting than the subject you were talking about. Epel decided to be a child and ignore you again, not that you cared.

"Well, if he didn't care about you or the other students, he wouldn't spend so much time working on things that could help all of you." You concluded, looking at your nails with interest instead of focusing on the sounds of Epel's disgusted reactions.

He leaned back, resting against his plush pillows, muttering something under his breath that you couldn't quite understand. More relaxed, he made a hand gesture for you to finish this torture soon.

"Two more reasons to go." He reminded you unintentionally.

You chuckled. "He's passionate about what he does." You let out an almost dreamy sigh. "Passionate about his work, either be his modeling or acting job, or making potions. Or doing anything really, even when doing the most mundane of the things he just has this focused look on his face that is so inspiring. And everytime I look at him I feel capable of doing many things, of exceeding everything I put my mind into. Do it makes sense?"

You paused, thinking about everything he had inspired you to do, even if he wasn't aware of it. Vil was a huge source of bright light shining endlessly, never allowing the darkness to get too close, he started to brighten your days every time he was around you and you were grateful to him for that.

You were grateful for every tip, for every smile and hug exchanged, for every joke and story shared, for him being there when you needed him. Maybe deep down he knew about your feelings too, preferring not to comment anything about it so as not to embarrass you since you weren't subtle about how you felt. And why should you? Love was a beautiful feeling, but so confusing and agitated.

It was love that you felt when you opened the windows and saw a pink sky announcing the beginning of another day, another day that you could see and hear him, his voice, his little humming, leaving extremely happy for whatever the day thrown your way. It was love you felt when you saw him acting, chills running down your back when a cold, calculating expression took over his face like a mask. If he had to be a villain, it must be a sin to be so beautiful acting like that.

"Earth to Yuu!" Epel's voice took you out of your thoughts, spread out on his bed and completely relaxed in his presence, he was playing something on his cell phone. "Last reason?"

You smiled. It was so obvious what the ultimate reason was after everything you'd been through here. "Because he's true to himself, even with all the criticism and nasty comments he receives daily, he's strong and I'm very proud of him. Do you think he would think that was weird if I told him? I mean, I see how he tries hard even if not everyone can see it and I wanted to say that what he does is enough. I wanted to say he's the best."

Epel held back a giggle, the same characteristic giggle he had when he was up for no good. You stared at him, not understanding why he looked so smug, not understanding why his giggles evolved into a loud laughter.

"I must say, Liebling, I'm glad to hear all this." A new voice joined the conversation and you cold tell that there was a smile on Vil's face from the way he sound.

He sounds so proud, so happy that someone appreciated everything he did.

Your soul seemed to have left your body at that very moment, slowly turning back to see Rook and Vil standing in the doorway. A quick wave of recognition passed through you, Epel knew they had been behind you this whole time! That was why he was looking back before!

You clasp your hands together, wanting nothing more than to grab a pillow and use it to beat Epel until it bursts. Fortunately, you resisted this urge, feeling your heart beat faster in your chest with each step Vil took towards you and Epel must have sensed your murderous tendencies, preferring to get away from you before you attacked him.

His smile, as you predicted, was beautiful on his lips and he seemed overjoyed to hear such genuine compliments, even though he was used to it. All the anxiety and fear of rejection you felt before seemed to melt away as soon as you held eye contact, nothing else existing but you and him. And Epel who eventually made gagging noises as the seconds passed and Rook who recited poetry about the obvious love that existed and was reciprocal between you and Vil.

"How much did you hear?" You decide to ask, deciding that you would declare yourself here and now, without caring about anything else. He was here, he was listening to you. There would be no better opportunity than this.

And Vil smiled that cocky smile that made millions of butterflies dance in your stomach, holding your chin between his fingers carefully. "I've heard enough, Liebling." He's close now, his lips brushing your sensitive ear. "Do you want to talk about it once your skin care is finished?"

You nod, feeling the force of a thousand suns shining over your head, over your skin. You feel warm, but it's not as uncomfortable as it seems, on the contrary, you feel a thread of hope growing in your chest, Vil's fingers making you smile as he carefully pulls the black mask off your face.

Being cared for and loved by him felt incredibly good. And you sighed when those expressive lilac eyes kept you captivated by his attention, feeling the cold cream being spread over your skin.

Rook and Epel's voices were like your own white noise, sounding so soft in the background like a song that you don't pay attention to the lyrics. Vil gently held your hand when everything was finished and you followed him without asking, letting him take you to his room so you could talk.

At least, at the end of the night, you had managed to tell him about all the other reasons that made you love him so deeply.

[obscuretobyfox]

this image from the art book depicting a scrapped part of snowdin. look in the top left, if you will.

no clue what to do with this info but its there!

This happens to be one of my favorite unused Undertale things out there!! Let's break it down, shall we?

Starting in the top left, we can see what appears to be a mural of a Dragon(?) breathing fire against a Snake(?) More importantly, however, is what seems to be an early variation of the "Delta Rune", given the triangle formation and the depiction of an "Angel" figure.

Moving right along, we have what I can only assume is placeholder, as I can't immediately identify anything related to Undertale or Deltarune. My best guess is that it's a cave painting depicting the war between humans and monsters.

Next up is what appears to be the entrance to a "Museum" area, next to a couple of Loox.. Looxses??? Loox's????? This is assumedly a Museum of Monster History, given the theming of the rest of the area.

The next crevice features a plaque with possibly another Delta Rune, a Loox statue, a statue of some angelic-looking monster, and... Buff Toby??? I think I understand why Temmie didn't want to sprite this area now..

Speaking of Temmie, there she is! There's not much more to say. Hi Temmie!

This final area features Flowey hanging out next to a family of snowmen, who have two TV's for some reason?? (Damn you Tenna..) The snowman at the bottom can be seen relaxing on a chair very similar to Sans' chair, later used by Lancer and Susie!

Thank you so much for writing in! Fun fact about this post, this is the FOURTH time I've rewritten it due to it randomly deciding to delete itself without saving as a draft.. (Estimated time spent... 1h 45m...)

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

please do a part to the Grayson Hawthorn head canons maybe where he meets eve and that whole mess.

the moment i knew

grayson hawthorne x fem! reader

you're confident in your relationship with grayson hawthorne. that is until a girl who look exactly like emily laughlin shows up at the mansion.

(part of these hcs )

a/n: im SO glad someone requested this bc i had ideas while writing the hcs for this scenario. get ready for some drama and grayson being dumb💯 also finally happy to be back to posting!! been hectic but now i have free time <3 ty to everyone for being so understanding ur all amazing. listened to my sad playlist for the fighting part LOL also i wanted to make this fic format but i was already way too deep into the bullets to fix it.

word count: 7.2k (wayyy longer than intended)

warnings: angst (i love and hate it), swearing, eve, fighting, death threats, final gambit spoilers but also plot changes

dating grayson hawthorne was truly the most beautiful feeling. you would even consider it better than finding out you were going to inherit billions. that's not true, but dating grayson is a close second still.

he was a fantastic boyfriend who cared so deeply for you, and you greatly got along with his family.

the two of you had occasional fights, but it was never anything that lasted more than an hour of being mad at each other. plus, he always caved in first whether you were right or wrong.

life was truly straight out of a movie for you. you were going to be a billionaire, run a foundation, and have a boyfriend. freshman year you would never be able to believe it, especially the boyfriend part.

it was almost too perfect. you should've expected an event to come crashing down at some point. because, after all, this still was the hawthorne family you're dealing with.

the road to disaster was initiated the moment grayson hawthorne left the house. he'd gotten into the ivy league of his choice, harvard and you were more than thrilled for him. but you were unsure of where it put the two of you at. he would be leaving the mansion, while you were forced to stay.

your's and avery's contract had yet to end, you still had a few month to bypass - so you couldn't leave the residence for more than 3 consecutive days.

grayson assured you the long distance thing would work, and he'd visit you as often as possible, then when you passed the year mark, you'd be able to visit and stay with him for long periods.

the plan he formated has eased your worries about your relationship. however, a small, but growing wall had formed between you, and you feared him leaving would lengthen it. you'd begun to notice a distant feeling from grayson at times, it was as if he was still concealing a part of himself. it was a build-up of all the unresolved emotional stresses he's faces - mainly from the death of both emily and tobias.

there were moments when you had attempted to get him to open up - but he either never got the hint or desperately wanted to remain ignorant. you'd decided to leave it as is, and perhaps that was your first error.

before leaving the family had put together a party as a 'farewell' gift. since the night began, you sensed the distant feeling had returned and grayson wasn't entirely there.

when a young girl had fallen into the pool, and grayson was quick to save her, jumping right into the pool in his suit and tie. you were quick to approach them with towels; even after the girl was returned to her family, grayson stayed still with a distant look in his eyes. you called his name and shook him a few times before he finally snapped back. but before you could question anything, he sought off into the house - leaving you on your own.

you gave him time alone since that was what he obviously wished for. you were relieved to see avery return with grayson, so relieved that you were insensible to the tension between the two.

thought things weren't resolved when grayson left, you were still hopeful for the both of you.

it started off great; frequent texts, late-night calls, occasional visits, and even gifts delivered to you. you felt silly for not having faith in the long-distance thing.

but your doubts returned when those daily calls turned into weekly texts and updates and those every other weekend visits shifted to seeing each other once a month.

grayson's excuse had been he was adjusting and had a hard time getting a grip on balancing everything in his life. had it been anyone else, you'd believed it better, but because it was grayson hawthorne, who you knew could effortlessly take on any task - you were growing suspicious. but you had yet to have a serious with grayson about it.

your silence broke the moment avery sat you down and revealed what had gone down in the wine cellar with grayson the night of his party.

she started with her concern for grayson, then ventured onto what happened after grayson ran off. avery had been in the wine cellar getting a bottle at jameson's request when grayson stumbled in. she immediately noticed he was in distress, and it wasn't long before he started breaking down. avery did her best to help, but he just insisted she leave, then went on a tangent about seeing hallucinations of emily and all the stress caused by being a hawthorne. avery's first thought was to get you, but he begged her not to tell him, which is why she was silent until that moment.

you were too occupied on the information regarding your boyfriend to even get a little mad that avery withheld the information. you had an inkling grayson wasn't well, you hadn't known it had gotten as bad as it did, and it was probably much worse by now.

you made an urgent call to grayson the as soon as you got to your room, and it took a couple tries to get him to answer. he answered a bit agitated, but you didn't care and started hounding him for an explanation on everything avery had told you.

at first, grayson was taken aback by both the interrogation and avery betraying him, then he finally confirmed that avery's words were true.

your heart grew heavy, and he confirmed everything. it was silent on the line for a second before you spoke up again. the first thing you asked was 'why?' why didn't he tell you about his trouble, especially the fact he was having nightmares and hallucinations about emily, his ex- girlfriend. and why, why had he confided in someone else instead of his own girlfriend.

you weren't jealous of avery nor did you fret over something happening between grayson and avery, but it hurt like hell to know she was the first he opened up to, whether it was intentional or not.

grayson repeated apologies over the phone, but by then, you were over it and wished him goodnight before hanging up. and once the line went dead, you curled up in bed and cried til you were tired enough to pass out.

grayson called multiple times the following day, and you declined them all. when calls were a bust, he turned to a flux of texts hourly, all consisting of the same mantra of sorry's and 'call me back'. you still didn't budge. you continued that behavior for a week or so, still upset at him.

however, you couldn't help but feel bad - the last thing you wanted to do was add stress to this place. nonetheless, your emotions were also valid; no one likes their boyfriend keeping things from them, telling said secrets to another woman he used to live with at that.

what you didn't expect on your monday morning was grayson to show up behind your bedroom door when you opened it. knowing he came all that way just because you were ignoring him made your heart flutter, however, you kept you solid composure.

grayson begged you to hear him out, so you hesitantly let him into your room and sat on the bed, waiting for him to say something. then grayson gave permission, he spilled his guts.

he revealed to you all of the difficulties he was going through, and you listened with an open heart. by the end of it he was crying, and you didn't hesitate to comfort him in his arms, a gesture he gladly accepted.

when it was safe for you to speak, you told him he didn't have to face all of it alone, there were many people in his life who cared for him.

"hawthorne or not, i'm your girlfriend. you are free to run to me when things get hard. then we can take it on together, okay?"

"you still want to be with me even after i've cried on your shoulder like this."

"the crying actually makes me like you more." you joke, and he gives a small smile at that.

you felt everything had gotten better after that. you'd manage to knock down another wall grayson had built, and now the two of you were closer than ever. avery's birthday was soon, so any two weeks after that, you'd be able to see grayson much more.

you were going to surprise your boyfriend by telling him you'd been looking at apartments in cambridge and landed on the perfect apartment for yourself. so, as soon as the year was up, you were moving there. yes, it was a huge step for someone you hadn't even been dating for over a year, but there was no place you'd rather be than by grayson's side.

avery's birthday had been, as jameson described, an "introvert's ball." and to be frank, you'd prefer it that way. after the way the last big party ended u, you were happy to have it just be immediate close friends and family.

everyone had a great time, grayson had made time to attend, and the both of you danced almost all night long. by the end, you're feet were blistered and bruised, but courteously swept you off your feet and carried you in his arms and into his bedroom. you were out like a light, but not before hearing grayson say 'love you' when he thought you were sound asleep. you went to bed with a smile etched on your lips.

you would've never left his bed had you known what was in store for you both the next day.

you'd just eaten breakfast with avery when you had both been informed by oren of a visitor name eve. avery looked anxious about it, and you didn't wait for her permission to follow her to the gates.

from the distance, you'd assumed it was rebecca, but as you approached, you realized that wasn't her. the girl in front of you was an exact copy of emily laughlin, more than her own twin.

"what the hell."

you were stunned to see a version of emily in person, and not just from photos you'd seen. avery was shocked, but it wasn't because of her appearance, more so due to her appearance at the manor. you were highly confused and began to think you were still sleeping.

avery had no choice but to confide in you everything that had gone on with toby and grayson's father, and how eve was toby's daughter. it was all much for your morning brain. but you processed enough to know the hawthornes, mainly grayson, seeing eve was the last thing needed. a part of you wanted to halt the meeting for selfish purposes. but the issue with eve being at hawthorne mansion meant a bigger issue; toby was taken.

oren, you, avery, and eve were discussing how to proceed, but there was little time to discuss the matter because the first person to come outside was grayson. the last person you'd wanted to come out of the mansion.

"emily?"

he was, understandably, pale as a ghost. it wasn't every day you saw a replica of your ex-girlfriend. you ran up to him with no plan of action. what could you possibly say? 'oh, this isn't emily this is eve, who just happens to look exactly like emily. and she's toby's daughter. oh, and by the way, your father is actually dead.'

grayson walked closer to eve, the resemblance becoming clear as day. looked to you to verify if what he was seeing was real or another figment of your imagination. you could only nod in response.

grayson didn't look away from eve, even when you tried to pull him back into the house. eve was annoyed by his trance and demanded to be taken inside for a shower after all she's had to deal with for the day.

so it was decided that everyone would gather in avery's room while eve used her bathroom. jameson had already been in avery's room when you four entered. he obviously noticed eve but made no comment until she was into the shower. since eve locked herself in the bathroom, grayson's eyes didn't move from the door. you couldn't lie and say it didn't create a sour feeling inside of you.

you knew it was horrible to make your boyfriend's trauma about you, but you couldnt help it. you were worried eve having the same face as emily was going to bring back unwarranted feelings. you bit back your envy, seeing that jameson was unaffected by eve's face, in contrast to grayson who stared longingly.

"tell me everything, heiress one and two."

avery briefly went over eve's appearance and toby's disappearance. she believes toby being taken has to do with a disk he gave her, one eve didn't know about. she ended it with an open discussion on ideas on how to get toby back.

jameson was the first to recognize how little you all knew about eve, and if you could truly trust her. you were glad someone had similar thoughts and you wouldn't be the first to voice them.

"we have to help her."

you turned to grayson at his words, your lips turned slightly down. jameson and avery also looked at the brother weirdly. was he seriously defending eve because she was an emily dupe?

"gray, we don't know her."

"it doesn't mean we should leave her to her own devices."

eve stepped out of the bathroom with clothes provided by avery,and grayson now had a look in his eye you coulden't identify. you had just about enough and lamely excused yourself to your room.

a part of you stupidly hoped your boyfriend would follow, but he never did.

as you busied yourself in your room reading books of fantasy lands to forget your own reality, avery knocked at your door. you hollered at her to enter, and she did. you continued reading, waiting for her to speak first.

"what do you think of a few welcome festivities?"

you raised a brow, "what did you have in mind?"

"how does chutes and ladders sound?"

chutes and ladder did not sound very fun, and frankly you'd never heard of it until that moment, but avery needed everyone in the game to get eve on board. you were even less enthused finding out grayson had been where eve was.

'you trust your boyfriend. you trust your boyfriend. you trust your boyfriend.' you repeated over and over. maybe you would believe it at some point.

as everyone gathered in the study and took a seat, you took your usual place next to grayson. you clenched your fists in your lap as you witnessed eve do the same.

as xander droned on about the rules of the game, you subtly side-eyed the pair beside you. your attention shifts back to the game when xander instructs the first person to go is the person with the best-kept secret. so that meant each of you had to confess something.

grayson took the liberty of starting off, not before sparring a guilty glance at you, "a girl tried to kiss me at harvard."

your head snapped, "what?"

"seriously, it was nothing."

"i can't believe you wouldn't tell me, i thought we agreed no secrets!"

"i didn't think it matter, it obviously pushed the girl away."

"it was enough of a deal for you to choose it as your secret."

you got up from your seat and opted to sit between avery and maxine. grayson grabbed your arm in an attempt to stop you, but you shook him off and took your new seat. grayson attempted to throw apologies, but you disregarded them.

to lighten the mood, maxine continued revealing she had a tattoo and xander continued telling the room he found his birth father; most of you gasped and asked for more, but xander kept his mouth shut. avery went next, heartfelt, saying she felt tobias made a mistake choosing her. you couldn't deny you didn't feel the same at times.

then eyes shifted onto you, awaiting your confession. you had a plethora to give, but you settled for one that matched the vulnerability of avery's.

"not to speak ill of the dead, but sometimes i think tobias hawthorne is a coward for leaving a game in his will instead of an explanation."

the room was silenced by your voice. you and avery each gave a look toward one another in understanding. you couldn't bare to turn your head in grayson's direction for his reaction. plus, you were still upset at him.

eve took the moment to finish the circle of secrets with her own. she disclosed her relationship with her family and their resentment toward her. you didn't fully trust eve, but you sympathized with her story. part of that sympathy was broken off as you saw grayson lean closer to her without a second thought. you started to think you would explode if the game didn't start any sooner.

as you wished, the game commenced - no surprise to you when eve was decided to go first. then the rest of you followed, and the race began.

you truly had no intention of trying that hard for a game, but it seems your inner competitiveness took the lead when you noticed eve ahead and grayson trailing right behind her.

maybe your anger and irritation spurred you on, but in everyone's, including yourself, surprise - you were right on eve's tail climbing up the ladder behind her.

your next move was a dirty one, maybe even callous, but in all honesty, you hadn't meant to do it. you think.

trying to grab onto the next rung as fast as possible, you managed to also grab the heel of eve's foot - causing her to misstep, lose her balance, and hang off the ladder by an arm and a foot. you utilized the time eve had to stabilize herself to then slide past her. you shot her a sorry look on the way up, and opened the hatch to the rooftop, declaring you the winner.

eve was right behind, grayson and jamseon after, and avery after two minutes. eve shot you a glare but didn't say a word about the incident. grayson was making his way in your direction, but you steered the other way to where jameson and avery stood.

jameson chuckled, "i didn't know you had it in you to play dirty."

"it was an accident, she tripped!" you defended.

jameson gave you a knowing look, but raised his hands in surrender and walked away to where xander and maxine were on the verge of entering. (they got sidetracked by a pillow fight)

you told avery you were off to shower and change; you hadn;t realized how sweaty you got until that moment. she nodded and you made your way to the hatch, but before you went down, she grabbed your arm.

"between you and me, was it an actual accident?"

"it was... if you count grabbing her foot and dragging her down as an accident."

avery shakes her head, "can't say i wouldn't have done the same given the opportunity."

walking down the hall, you heard your name being called. on instinct, you turned; grayson was behind you. you figured avoiding him wouldn't work forever.

"can we talk?" he asks, interwining his hand into yours.

you open your mouth the respond, but he cuts you off - "actually, you don't get a choice. i'm going to talk, and you're going to listen."

his tone left no room for argument, so you conceded. grayson went on to apologize for the 'almost-kiss' incident and for the lack of telling you.

"forgive me, angel. it was idiotic of me to assume it wasn't a important matter to communicate to you. you are the only girl i'll ever want to kiss."

you were a sucker for sincere apologies, and his piercing eyes made for a compelling argument. you sighed, "okay, i'll forgive you. but next time a girl tries to kiss you and you don't tell me, i'm kicking your ass, then hers."

grayson smiles and leans in for a kiss, which you accept. as his lips ignite with yours, you can't help but think of how much of a hypocrite you're being by not telling him your emotions regarding eve. 'it wasn't the right time,' you told yourself. it was only her first day, you were jumping to conclusions too soon. everything would work out.

the morning made for a rude awakening; threatening note sent to the gates hadn't been on your to-do list. avery shook you so hard you jumped out of bed, thinking it was an earthquake and smacked grayson's face in your alarm. (he wasn't pleased at that)

the threat contained a photo of toby, and a crypt message you all decoded. everyone started to think of suspects for the culprit behind the kidnapping. number one being skye hawthorne.

however, the investigation proved to be fruitless because she didn't have toby, and the other suspects led to a dead end. the threats hadn't stopped either.

you found yourself sleeping in grayson's more frequently. grayson didn't feel comfortable leaving you in your room, but you also knew it was because he secretly loved cuddling you at night. he held off going back to harvard, claiming he couldn't leave while there was danger lurking. it made you feel safe, but you also wondered if eve had anything to do with it. part of you didn't want an answer to that.

on this night, the two of you were in the pool past midnight. now that you learned to swim, grayson wouldn't stop challenging you to races. you knew what the outcome would be, but you accepted everytime, telling him you'd beat him eventually. (doubt, but it was nice to dream). for every win, you'd award him a kiss per his demand.

on his fifth victory, you leaned in to kiss him, only to ambush him with water to the face. grayson pretended to be annoyed and claimed revenge. you quickly swam away, but it didn't take long for him to catch up to you. he hands attacked your sides, and you were tortured by the ticklish sensation. you begged for him to stop, but he refused and wanted an apology.

you were stubborn, but finally threw in the towel, and accepted defeat. even after he stopped, grayson kept you in his arms as you calmed down from your fits of laughter. for a moment, it was just the both of you gazing into each other's eyes lovingly. at the same time, you titled you heads and reduced the gap between your lips.

before your mouths made contact, the lights, alerting the presence of another, shone. you both quickly turned toward the direction of the light, and grayson made a swift move to push you behind him. you were half expecting it to be another hawthorne brother, or worst-case scenario - the kidnapper.

but instead, there stood eve. she wore a silk lilac nightgown with a small slit that stopped midthigh. you immediately recognized it as your own by the small tear on the strap. 'when did she get this from my room?' had she stolen it or did grayson give it to her? both answers made your blood boil.

grayson relaxed as he recognized her, but you stayed tense. eve apologized for the intrusion, she was walking around the grounds and hadn't realized there were others awake. despite hating the interruption, you assured her it was alright, and she should be careful roaming around at night.

you thought that was that, and she'd just wander off, but it wasn't.

"do you mind if i swim, too?"

"well we-"

"not at all."

you turned your head to your boyfriend and gave him a questioning look, but he ignored it. his attention was now on eve. you had no choice, but to go along with it.

eve was quick to remove her your nightgown and reveal a one-piece swimsuit under. you were a bit confused, didn't she say she was just roaming the grounds, why did she already have a bathing suit on? but you stayed silent.

she jumped from the edge of the pool and landed a few feet away from where you and grayson. for a moment she struggling to reach the top, likely from not expecting how deep the pool actually was. grayson, ever the hero, swam to her aid, grabbing her hand to reel her back to the surface.

at this point, you couldn't even blame eve for these little accidents. you were getting upset at how grayson never failed to aid her when she was in need.

eve laughed, and thanked him for the gesture. then they started conversing about a topic you didn't care to pay attention to. had you just become a third wheel? 'no, no. he's just being friendly. gray will come back to you any second, then you'll both return to his room.'

except that didn't happen. eve asked grayson to race her, and he gladly accepted. even teased her about how badly she'd lose. not once did he turn back your way. no, but as eve swam to the edge, she gave you glance, obviously noticing how you awkwardly floated in your spot waiting for grayson. but she didn't speak a word, and continued to race in preparation for the friendly competition.

you had more than enough at that point. you swam to the pool's railing and pulled yourself out. you stomped out the swimming area, not even bothering to get a towel, and walked back into the mansion. you'd apologize to the cleaners for the wet mess later.

you were more heartbroken than angry. which was worse in your book. you'd been trying not to act like a jealous girlfriend who couldn't trust her boyfriend, and you took grayson's trauma with the emily situation into account, so you made excuses for all of grayson's actions toward eve. but sometimes, you shouldn't deny what's right in front of you.

now, you were cold and wet. you just wanted to go to bed. taking on threatening notes seemed so much easier now.

with all your deep thinking, you missed the sound of running feet from behind you. when a hand grabbed your wrist so suddenly, you were startled, and on instinct - you hand went flying at whoever stood behind you.

seeing now that it was grayson, you gave a small apology, seeing him clutch his face in pain. but you weren't that sorry at all. you probably would've done the same thing if you knew it was him.

grayson collected himself like nothing, "why did you leave?" he gently asks, wrapping a towel, you just noticed he brought, around your form.

you feign innocence, "oh, you actually noticed i was gone? 'figured you'd be too busy racing your new best friend."

"what are you acting like this?"

"i'm tired. tired of standing by as you treat eve like she's a damsel in distress. eve's no better; she clearly knows the effect she has on you."

"you're misinterpreting the situation. eve is one of us, we have to protect her."

"i'm sorry, did we forget you launched a full federal investigation on avery and i as soon as we got here? even after the will reading, i don't remember getting this warm welcome from you."

grayson lips form a straight line, frustrated, "that was different. eve has no one else-"

"she's not emily, grayson."

"trust me, i know that."

"i dont think you do! you see her as your second chance. news flash grayson, she isn't, emily is dead!" you venomously spit out. you hadn't intended for the harsh words to come out, but you wanted to hurt him as much as he was hurting you at the moment.

grayson's fists clench at his sides, he eyes brim with rage toward you, "jealously isn't a good look on you, y/n." the blow cut deeper than you had wished.

"neither is ignorance." you bite back.

you angrily turn your back and storm off in the direction of your room. luckily, it was only less than twenty feet away. you hoped grayson got the hint to not follow.

"we owe her our loyalty, y/n." grayson calls out one last time in a calm voice - different from the aggravated one from a second prior.

you enter your room and turn to him, deciding your final words before closing your door, "your loyalty was to me first."

part of you expected an apology the following day, but it never came. you were unsure where the two of you stood, and you weren't going to waltz up to grayson door to ask.

you confided your feelings in avery and libby, both defended your stance. avery was also wary about eve, and libby just loved any chance to bash a hawthorne.

you were sure the whole house was aware of the argument, likely the laughlins and thea calligaris as well. news travels easily around here. you didn't even want the know eve's point of view on the whole thing.

you steered clear of grayson, and busied yourself with toby's kidnapping along with everyone else. (which honestly should've been the most important matter.) you ensured avery everything was fine because you felt selfish making it about you when toby was in serious danger.

even without being in the same room with grayson, the tension was painfully evident. you could always sense when his gaze was on you, and it took everything to not return it. when you both were in the same room, you made sure to stay on opposite ends. everyone else had trouble deciding on how to handle the situation, but there were no direct comments, at least not that you heard.

there were nights when you wished grayson would show up at your door and just apologize. you wanted a reenactment of those cheesy romance movies where the guys begs the girl for forgiveness, and then they kiss and makeup. truthfully, you would've taken him back in a heartbeat. but this wasn't a movie, and he never showed up at your door.

you wondered if he even felt half of the heart ache you were going through. by the way eve was still hanging around him, even after the argument, you were starting to doubt it.

the more the investigation ensured, the more you and avery grew suspicious of eve. though whenever you thought you had a smidge of proof, it never followed through. it only succeeded in making you look like the villainous ex girlfriend and eve the innocent protagonist.

you and grayson were in a forced proximity when you had to investigate the wine cellar, along with avery and jameson. it was an awkward situation for all four of you, especially pertaining to the event with avery and grayson. but nonetheless, it proved to be useful because the final clue was hidden in the crystals of the chandelier. 'DON'T TRUST ANYONE'

you shouldn't had been so surprised that it was another vague message.

after critical thinking, you and avery came to the same conclusion - eve. the game started with her, she had to be the one tobias was warning about.

however, jameson and grayson weren't convinced by the conviction. both inferring that it would've stated 'her' instead of 'anyone'. but you persisted, avery backing you up.

jameson sighed, "i think recent events are affecting your judgment, y/n." you were taken aback by the claim, especially it coming from jameson. hadn't he been suspicious of her as well?

"i'm not acting out of jealousy. the old man knew of her, even made a plan in the event she arrived to the mansion, yet failed to mention her to anyone. why is that?"

"y/n." grayson spoke to you for the first time in awhile, "this isn't like you to act so rash. if you gave evie a chance-"

"evie? what, you guys have fucking pet names for each other now? don't you see how she's played you since the beginning!"

"y/n, you're not thinking straight."

you shake your head, "no, i don't think it's ever been clearer than right now. so, i'm going to give you one last chance grayson. to, for once, take my side over eve's. because if you don't, you're going to lose me."

there was silence, a hairpin being dropped could be heard. grayson put his head down and said nothing. and yet, it told you everything. you laughed at yourself for expecting a different outcome.

you scoffed with a humorless grin, turned around and walked away. you heard avery call out for you, but you ignored it. you didn't want to see the pity she'd have in her eyes after that embarrassing debacle.

you made it all the way to your room before crying into your pillow. you finally got the answer of whether or not it was over. the pain of the night at the pool seemed like an easy feat to face compared to your anguish now.

when you calmed down a few hours later, you looked out the window and saw the pool. a flashback of pain seared in you at first, but then you noticed something peculiar you failed to notice before. there was a part of the tiles that weren't aligned with the rest. you likely would miss it if you were close to it, but from far away it was noticeable.

something inside you told you to investigate. maybe it was the need for a distraction, but you followed your gut, not even stopping to change attire.

once getting to the pool, you jump straight in to create enough force to reach the bottom of the pool more efficiently. there, you observed the tile for a second before attempting to move it. nothing happened, and you readied yourself to get a breath of air -but suddenly, a key popped out from a compartment under the tile. you got it and returned to the surface.

without the chlorine in your eyes, you were able to immediately know where to put the key to use; the chapel tobias built for nan hawthorne. you rushed there, not caring for how soggy your hair and clothes were.

luckily, nan wasn't anywhere in sight. you rushed to the statue in the center of the room and eyed it for a moment before finding the intended target, the statue's mouth. you fit the key inside and wiggled it around before hearing that 'click' to let you know it was unlocked. a second later, a small plate popped out and with it it contained a usb. you'd never been prouder of yourself for figuring out one of tobias's stupid puzzles without avery's help.

you pulled out your phone and pressed on avery's contact, and started ringing her. she picked up in an instant, "hello?"

"avery! you won't believe it i-"

your sentence was rudely cut off due to your phone being shot of your hand. by a bullet.

you gasped and snapped your head to the entrance of the chapel. you saw the gun at once and its owner; eve.

"sorry, i think you're going to need a new phone," she says innocently.

you let out a cheerless laugh, "i knew it, you psycho bitch!" obviously not the best choice of words to say to the person pointing a gun at you, but god, did it feel good to be right about eve.

eve rolled her eyes, "i suppose you did, but it wasn't like anyone believed you. i'll admit you and avery almost, just almost, got me. but eventually, i was able to fool her too. now give me the usb and i won't shoot you." she got you there.

you gripped the usb tightly in your palm, "why do you want it?"

"i'm getting what's owed to me, what was taken from my family by that stupid old man. god, was it easy to infiltrate the hawthornes. especially grayson." you flinched at the mention of his name and eve took note of it.

she laughs, "right, he's your boyfriend- i mean ex-boyfriend, oops." there's no sincerity in that apology. "you know, when i heard you two were dating i was prepared to work twice as hard to get his attention.. but it was proven unnecessary because as soon as i stepped on hawthorne mansion - i had him." ouch.

"enough chatting, now walk over here slowly and hand me the drive." eve commanded, emphasizing the gun in her hands.

where was your bodyguard when you needed him?

you followed her commands, and took slow steps to her. she took on hand off the trigger to open her palm toward you. you made a motion to place the usb in her hand, but then quickly charged at the gun.

you both struggled back and forth, moving the gun. suddenly, the weapon flew out of both of your grasps and landed in front of the angel statue.

with the usb situated in your pocket, you ran to retrieve it, but eve was quick and tackled you from behind, causing you both to land on the ground. you were both rolling up and down the aisle, trying to get the upper hand. eve roughly situated herself ontop of your waist, immobilizing you. then her hands slithered to your neck and squeezed hard.

it was getting harder to breathe, but you were a fighter. your armed flayed at her, grabbing whatever was closest. as a last resort, you clawed at her face.

"bitch." you mutter as your nails scratch across her face.

it worked, eve howled in pain and retracted her hands from your neck. you briskly shoved her off your body. having little energy from the lack of oxygen, you still take your chance and crawl toward the gun. but eve had recovered, and dragged you back by your heel. 'talk about karma' you thought.

you're crazily moving your feet to shrug eve's hands off as you continue to painfully crawl. but suddenly the gun is lifted off the ground, both you and eve look up to see grayson now clutching the gun. you're both relieved and worried.

you stand up on your feet, eve does the same. grayson waves the gun toward both of you and both hold your hands in front of your forms.

"gray, thank god you're here. i came here looking for a clue, and found a usb, but then y/n showed up.. s-she took the usb from me then pulled out a gun and tried to kill me." her voice was no longer diabolical, now it was full of vulnerability and fear.

"grayson, she's lying, she almost killed me!"

"y/n's been working with vincent blake, she plans on giving that usb to him."

"oh, you little liar!"

"look at what she did to my face!" eve points at the bloody scratch on her face, starting from her left eyebrow and ending at her lip.

grayson eyes went back and forth in observing both you and eve. the gun was pointed in the middle, still deciding its target.

his eyes landed on yours, as does the gun. "y/n. give me the usb." your stomach drops.

"grayson." you plead.

"y/n. now." he held his hand out. you knew that tone. it meant 'no room for argument'.

if he didn't believe in you even now, then you had no choice. you took steps toward him.

"careful, gray, pretended to give the usb to me and then attacked me." eve warned. you shot her a nasty glare.

grayson doesn't say anything and waits for your move. you drop the usb in his hand.

"thank you." you say nothing.

grayson turns his head to eve, "i've always known who to believe." eve smiles at that, "i just had to stall long enough for john to show up."

in an instant, eve is brought down to the floor. oren is behind her, holding her arms behind her back long enough to put handcuffs on her wrist.

you let out a large breath you didn't know you were holding. grayson believed you in the moment that mattered most.

grayson tosses the gun to the ground and engulfs you in a hug. you accept it, and grip onto him like your life depends on it. his hold triggers your emotions, and tears spring out from your eyes. you can't help it when you start crying into his shoulder. he soothes you, cradling his hand on the back of your head.

"im sorry." grayson muttered into your hair. "you were right. i can't let emily rule my life any longer."

"you're an idiot." you say in the midst of tears.

"i am." he agrees

"and i'm still super mad at you."

"i know."

"you're going to have to work really hard to earn my forgiveness, like beg on your knees and hold a boombox outside of my window type stuff." you croak.

"i will, baby." grayson smiles.

for now, you were happy to feel safe and protected in his arms.

bonus:

"is this really necessary?"

"very," avery confirms, "you broke boyfriend code, now your penance must be fulfilled."

"you guys only made up those codes a day ago," grayson counters.

it was true, after the whole eve fiasco grayson was willing to do whatever to earn your forgiveness. you were ready to forgive him, but you also wanted to give him a hard time. it might've been a little evil of you, but you thought it was well deserved. after a girl talk with avery and libby, you came up with a new set of rules you liked to refer to as 'boyfriend code.' inspired by the code the brother share.

"exactly why we ought to use you as an example for future culprits," xander justifies waving a hand in grayson's direction.

grayson groans, looking up at the ceiling, "i love my girlfriend. i'm doing this for my girlfriend." he murmurs to himself.

"that's the spirit" nash cuts in, he lifts his drink up.

avery looks around, "where is y/n, anyway?" she asks.

"here!" you announce, walking out from behind the stage, "i was just preparing the song." you take a seat next to jameson and grin mischievously at grayson, "you'll love it."

graysons eyes narrow, "i have a feeling i won't."

just then, the beginning of a song plays out from the speakers.

grayson eyes widen, and he looks at you, "no."

your smile widens, "oh, yes."

"c'mon gray, we're all waiting." jameson hollers from his seat.

everyone starts egging grayson on, cheering for him to commence.

he takes a deep breath, "guess i have no choice."

as grayson starts to sing the lyrics of "shake it off" by taylor swift, jameson leans over to you.

"gotta say, this is a brilliant punishment for him."

you nod in agreement, "and it'll be even better after when i reveal, i have ten other taylor swift songs for him to perform." specially, 'ME!' was next.

"yikes. remind me to never break boyfriend code."

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love

So this is the first official Ghost story on my blog. I know, I know, it's been a long time writing and I've not written something for the guy, but it's really just because I get so worried about writing him poorly.

I know he's a big military guy who hates having emotions and kills any and all kindness in his heart, but I also really like the idea of him exploring the concept of healing from his trauma? I dunno, I just thought about it.

Also, like König, I can't imagine Ghost keeping normal pets. Originally I had him get a spider, but then I read over his backstory again and it made more sense for him to get a venomous snake. I think it's a major step to overcoming his trauma. By the way! Big trigger warning, this is about a snake! This entire fic centres around a snake!

Anyways, I had some fun writing this but it made me super sad.

TW: Snake, discussion of past abuse, emotional trauma, child abuse (referenced), emotional disregulation

Wordcount: 1.7k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love

Simon locked eyes with the little black and yellow creature housed deep within its cave. It was a small thing, barely hatched from its egg it looked like. The length of a ruler at most. It was a light thing, covered in fine scales along its supple body. This thing was venomous, yes, but it couldn’t do any real damage. It was a threat maybe to a mouse, but a man such as himself wouldn't fall to such weak poison. Swelling, pain, nausea, yes. But death? Not quite.

And yet, his heart quickened within his chest. He could feel the sweat forming on his brow. It had been so long since he’d seen one of these beasts, and yet the same fear from back then wormed its way inside him now.

“Hungry?” Simon’s voice was particularly gravelly, roughened by sleep deprivation and lack of use.

The creature made no move. He’d be surprised if the thing even heard him. Did it even have ears? He’d have to ask the breeder later.

“Been a long time since I’ve seen one of yer kind before,” he admitted. He didn’t quite know why, but it felt somewhat soothing to speak to the thing.

“I killed the last one of ye that I saw. Crushed the fucker right under my boot, I did.”

It didn’t seem to scare the beast off. He wondered if it really was more afraid of him than he was of it. He hoped that was true. He didn’t want to admit that the fear still wriggled under his skin.

“He wasn’t anything like what my dad ‘ad,” Simon closed his eyes as the oppressive memories washed over him, “that one was a right bastard. Bigger than anything I’ve seen ever since. Shoved it right in my face, he did. Wouldn’t let me go till I kissed it right on the lips. If it bit me, I wouldn’t be standin’ ‘ere. But you,” Simon opened his eyes, dark eyes matching two glassy eyes of inky black, “you’re nothing. You're pathetic. You’re… You're so small.”

Simon turned back to the breeder.

Finally, the creature came to its senses and slithered back further into its burrow. So sleek and streamlined, and yet so slow to move. It was afraid of him, that Simon decided the moment he noticed that despite backing away, it didn’t dare look elsewhere.

“How much for this one?” he asked as he pointed at the plastic cube.

“That one?” the woman blinked and looked at what he was pointing at, “the female or the male?”

“The female,” Simon clarified.

“Oh she’s pretty, isn’t she?” the woman adjusted her glasses as she slid behind the plastic cube, “poor girl’s probably pretty scared being out here.” She didn’t mention how terrifying Simon was in his dark clothing, rough fabric stretched tight across his broad frame. He was used to scaring people by this point. Sometimes, like now, he wished he wasn’t.

“How do you pronounce that?” Simon pointed at the name that had been scrawled in blue ballpoint pen on a blank sticker.

“Boida dendrophila,” the woman replied, “she’s pretty young, but she’ll get big soon enough.”

“She’s one of them big ones, yeah?” Simon asked aloofly.

“You bet your arse,” the woman grinned, “she’ll be big soon enough. Don’t know much about ‘em?”

“Oh no,” Simon leaned down to take a better look at the little beast, “I’ve been doing my reading.”

“You got a big enough enclosure for her?” the woman quizzed him.

“Sure do,” Simon hummed, “I built her an enclosure myself. It’s nearly as tall as me, long too. Got some nice branches for her to climb and all that..”

“Wow that’s a lot of space. You sure that’s not too much?” the woman frowned.

“She won’t be in there for a bit, I’ve got something for while she’s small,” Simon reasoned.

What a stupid question.

“Oh well that’s fine,” the woman broke out into another smile, “but yeah she’s eating mostly baby mice, an adult once in a while. You know she’ll be eating bigger things when she’s full grown, right? You can handle that?”

“I think I’ll be quite alright,” Simon mused, “have to admit, she’s a right beauty.”

“She really is, isn’t she?” the woman gushed, “I’ve been raising her since she was just hatched. But now? Well, normally I sell them off a bit sooner, but she grew on me. Unfortunately, the husband isn’t too fond of her and wants her to be moved on.”

“Why’s that?” Simon looked at the woman from behind his sunglasses.

“Oh he got bit when she was the length of a pencil,” the woman laughed, “he’s held it against her ever since!”

“Heard her kind can get pretty feisty,” Simon commented as he looked back at the spider.

“They can get a bit aggressive, I won't lie to you. A bit territorial, too,” the woman explained carefully so as not to scare off the only interested customer she had all weekend.

“Real fast,” Simon continued on, “with nasty bites.”

“Sounds like you’ve done your reading,” the woman laughed uncomfortably.

“Course,” Simon refrained from rolling his eyes, “so how much is she? The sticker’s ripped.”

“She’s on sale, actually,” the woman grinned, “only a couple hundred quid.”

“That much, eh?” Simon straightened up to tower over the slender woman.

“Normally she could be anywhere up to four hundred,” the woman fought back against the subtle threat of intimidation.

“Well then,” Simon looked down at the cube, “looks like I got a good deal then.”

“You won’t go stompin’ on her, will you?” the woman furrowed her brows.

“No ma’am, that was just what I had to do when I went out to the Middle East,” Simon chuckled humorlessly, “I wouldn’t dream of hurtin’ this here little lady.”

The woman grinned as she counted her bills, Simon smiled just slightly as he picked up the container and brought it back to his car.

When he got home, he carefully moved the little creature into the glass enclosure of dirt, leaf litter and cork bark. He put it back in its place on his shelf and smiled.

“Dendrophila, eh?” he chuckled, “how ‘bout Ophelia? That’s a cute lil name for ya.”

The creature only burrowed away under the cork bark, eager to get out of sight of the frightening giant before her. He didn’t blame the little thing, he’d be terrified of himself if he was a younger man.

Once, he’d hardened himself into an unstoppable thing, a monster of a man. He had formed his shell through cruel lashings the world had lavished upon him. He took ablutions in raining blood. He was festering sickness or silver sin. He was what he despised in the world, the monster he tried to protect his own family from. When his brothers in arms welcomed each other warmly, they regarded him as a feral dog to be kept at a distance, chained in the backyard, out in the rain.

In Simon’s heart there was no room for love. He was not a man forged in kindness and love. He was the unfortunate son of Mr. Riley, cursed from birth to be raised in the muck and mire of human atrocities. He had been calloused by the time he was nine, and by the time he joined the military even the recruiting officers were afraid of him. He was too cruel, too strict, too much for anyone to handle. He could brute-force his way through life, but only for so long.

Even monsters had hearts. This was the unfortunate fact that Simon had learned far too late in life. He hated himself for how he wallowed in his loneliness. He thought his team would be enough, but there was a despicable part that still resided deep within him. He could offer his rotten sort of love to his teammates, but he could never care for them like he needed to. There was a part of him that had been stunted since childhood, and far too late it breached his skin to scream into his ears, begging him to please just notice me, notice me and don't let me die here inside of you.

He didn’t want to, but he spoke to a therapist. It was Price's advice after he'd broken down with a bottle of whisky in one hand and a revolver in the other. Price promised to never say a word as he unwound his lieutenant's fingers from the trigger.

A week later he'd arrived at a small office. They’d been cowed by him at first. Everyone was, but something about frightening the one person he wanted to be helped by hurt a part of Simon he wished to rip from his chest. Once he would have laughed, but in that office, he could only hurt. No tears fell, but his walls did and he was able to speak openly for the first time in his entire life without the help of a bottle of jack and a pair of dice. It felt wrong. He hated it, but he learned.

His therapist told him that to help rid himself of this festering parasite of an emotion, he should try to nurture the damned thing. Simon had laughed in the man’s face. He then told him to go to Hell. The man had learned not to flinch in the face of a predator, and so pushed forth. He said that to grow, Simon could try getting a cat or a dog. Something he could raise with the love he never had been given as a boy.

He said that he needed something to love or else he'd never be able to heal. Simon scoffed and left the room, but not before booking another appointment. The smug look on his therapist’s face disgusted him. He turned quickly and left.

So maybe it was out of spite that he bought Ophelia, but there was a part of him that felt like he needed the little creature. He needed something to love, and so he did. He loved the Ophelia with all his heart. He nurtured her and cared for her as best he could.

Months passed, and he started to handle Ophelia. She hissed, she scurried away, she did everything to get away from Simon’s touch. He figured that if he had to face himself, he’d do much the same. He wasn’t a creature born of love and compassion. He was death, in face and in heart, but each time he brought Ohpelia’s container out and changed her water, when she ate from his tongs, he could feel his rotten heart beating within his chest. It made him smile despite himself.

He was not a creature of love, and yet it was love he felt when Ophelia tentatively reached out and slithered up his hand. When he raised her up, ever so gently, he couldn’t help but cry.

How cruel was the world that a boy, born from street gutters and raised by heavy hands, would only ever feel love for the first time in a dingy London flat on his thirty-first birthday, alone save for the venomous snake in his hands?

Stories

Ghost Dump

[marengogo]

Are You Sure?! - #2: The Right Side of the Bed

Interlude: Shadow - by SUGA  [Map of The Soul: 7]

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

Hello my Bangtan Loving Gurls, Bois  & Enbys,

How have you been? Yesterday was a bit shit in Tanniedom, wasn’t it? But fret not! My Spousy @chikooritajjk has us covered. They have written and most likely still writing ARMY-SPIRIT-UPLIFTING posts and for that and many other things I am super grateful, so do check them out if you need a boost of positivity. Hence, I thought I’d venture into giving us also a very little break from all dat and talk about our recent Are You Sure?! VMINKOOK Edition episodes, as there actually is a lot to unpack at the same time I am also working on another post which I actually started before this, like on Monday, about certain type of 431s (for does who don’t know, 431 stands for ARMY) and it is not the most “positive” post so maybe I’ll wait until Mercury Retrograde ends to post it 🤡… which is in 1 day.  Ayte then! Let’s start, shall we?

Now, y’all know I’m OT7 right? If it is your first time landing on my page, do not that I am OT7, it is very important to me, and to you as well, trust me bro! Yet, I know many also have biases, which is perfectly fine in my books, as long as you do respect all the other members as well. It is very much impossible, in my not-so-humble opinion, to do any relationship assessment if you hate/dislike/don’t respect to a certain level/don’t understand aspects that are intrinsic parts of the environment of what/whom you are trying to analyse. Already having a bias can affect opinions if not controlled being OT7 is also having a bias by the way, but Hate … child … Hate is The Ultimate Influencer, but so is Love, by the way, which is why The Gray of it All is important during discussions like this one. That being said, let me spell it out so that we have no confusion or misunderstandings.

Tae & JK are very intrinsic parts of JM’s life. 

JM & JK are very intrinsic parts of Tae’s life. 

JM & Tae are very intrinsic parts of JK’s life. 

This is the same and equally important for all 3 of them for all 7 really, however, the degree, intensity and shape they take into each other’s life is different depending on the pairing, and this episode gave us a trivial synopsis taste of all 3 dynamics, which you could only observe and appreciate if you allowed Mx. Gray do their thing and let Hate and Love sit this one out, or comfortably watch the backseat, to each theirs.  

Let’s start by setting the scene. Ignoring what Capulets, Montagues and the VPD have to say, with their weird-ass, borderline-offensive and obtuse takes: Are You Sure?! Is a JK and JM show. Does it mean they hate the rest of the members? No. Does it mean they are trying to leave the band? No. Does it mean that they have finally decided to cave in and provide shippers with the ever-sought fanservice they’ve all been waiting for? No. All it ever was meant to be, was a single travel vlog from these two particular members who expressed the desire of wanting to spend some quality time together and share said time with ARMY. Simple as that. Eventually, regardless of JM’s IBM and JK’s cold, they had so much fun that they decided to go on one more trip, and that apparently was such a blast, that they decided to make a whole show out of it.

It is important however to point out, and rationally acknowledge, that both JK and JM have tried their darn, polite and explicit, best to make sure that it was understood that this show was something they wanted to do just the two of them. They loved the time they spent with Tae, no doubt about that. If you ask me, they actually made an exception because it was Tae and would have probably refused the Hyungs y’all vibes don’t really check out like that, for this type of trips, sorry 🤡. Even so, they have Bon Voyage, In The Soop, private time, and they can even create a Makane Line Show if they want, where they can satisfy the desire to travel together. Furthermore, the fact that no other guest was invited to Sapporo, coupled with JK jokingly mentioning that they should hone their vlogger skills and keep going until they turn 50 years in addition to other comments, in my opinion, makes it pretty clear that they just want it to be a JungJi thing now that JungJi is a thing, or JimKook or whatever for reasons they only know, and we may never.

The Guest

Do you know the type of confidence you have to have to, so nonchalantly and publicly, let it be known, that you are aware of the fact of being a guest? HYB3 could have easily marketed this as a subunit show, with mainly JK & JM as units. USA - JK & JM; Jeju - VMINKOOK; Sapporo JK & JM. It wouldn’t MAINLY JK & JM because, as we all should know by now, IT IS A JK AND JM SHOW. Yet, here he is, Tae in all his glory, spending time on an island he seems to care about for his own reasons with people he obviously loves and feels so much at ease with:

Things like sleeping in a bed he knew was supposed to “be JM’s” he could only pull off because he knew that JM wouldn’t care about it, in the same way JK & JM raced for the other available bed like they knew they were okay with sharing it. 

In general,Tae is the band’s Englishman in New York. He does thing at his own pace, feels emotions with his own intensity and also understands things at his his own pace which has come to bite him in the ass many a time 🤡 …. He is also a man who quickly adapts in any given situation and isn’t shy about getting what he needs with/around people he is completely at ease with, such as a deep conversation with JM, all kinds of foolery with JK, absolute cosyness with JM and/or tenderness with JK. He is also extremely tactile, and if he is comfortable with you he will promptly ignore any personal space, almost as if physically connecting with you is the one way he can connect with you on all levels, which doesn’t sit well with everyone, and Tae will try his best to understand why on Earth you would reject his embrace, LOL, like when Joonie didn’t want to hug while sleeping during Bon Voyage season 4. 

Throughout episode 3 and 4, it felt to me like Tae had things going on and was perhaps past the processing time, and needed some wholesome I-don’t-want-to-think/distraction time, which is why he was with Wooga and JK & JM in this particular period of time. It’s almost as if he was looking for some kind of relief. Like he wanted to know that things wouldn’t change when in the presence of people with whom he needed things not to change. If he had things his way, I’m sure he would have had Hobi be also part of this Jeju trip  but as we all know …. Whatever he was trying to process he really didn’t want to think about, so he ventured out into places where people would allow him to just be. 

In fact, I’m not sure if people have noticed but, during this Jeju trip, in many an instance Tae has for example allowed himself to slide himself in and out of situation or just do as he pleased, irrespective of what the other two did, for example, he was having a phone-conversation about a gym with an acquaintance of his while they were at the cafe, or stayed alone on one side of the boat, while the other two were fishing right next to each other. 

Tae was basically living the type of holiday I would aspire to experience at this time in my life. I had a difficult break up at the start of the year which sometimes I still questions, but I honestly know it was for the best and even though I want to be alone, I have accepted that human beings are not islands, and to that respect, I am lucky enough to be around people who let me just be, they involve me the right amount, I involve myself the right amount, but for the rest I am allowed to just space out when I do, or get lost in my cell phone, or heavily rant, or do whatever other random thing comes to mind of recent. Obviously, I don’t know what most have happened to Tae, but I think that Tae also has this type of relationship with his close friends, be it Wooga or Bangtan. In particular, when it comes to JK, he is able to enjoy comradery, understanding and tenderness, whereas when it comes to JM he can relish in comfort, reassurance and allowance. 

The Hosts

JM and JK have been formidable hosts, in my humble opinion, or at least the type of hosts that I would like. If we follow my line of thought where I think something was bothering Tae, they have tried their best to involve Tae in everything they did as a means of distracting him, in the best way they could, while still keeping true to themselves. And even though, on different occasions, they have pointed out that Tae was a guest because my boys had plans with each other, which couldn’t be carried out as a pair, but the fact that a guest is actually present means they are fully on board with it all, BUT they still need to somehow mourn their foiled plans, I am pretty sure it was just part of their usual a maknae-line role-play/banter. Furthermore, for the most part, they also didn’t force Tae to participate in things after they asked him once, and he’d refuse. They really did let him be, but always made sure to try and involve him where they could.

Basically JK and JM came ready to do what they had planned to do and they were comfortable enough to also do it with their guest in such a way that they didn’t feel obliged to change anything, because they knew that they could be themselves in the presence of Tae. For example, I’m not sure why, but I knew that Tae was gonna sleep in JM’s bed, because JM is never averse to Tae’s tactfulness Joonie, we ain’t judging you 🤡, JK we ain’t judging you either! if anything, he embraces it; JM seems to be the type of person that amplifies your traits. So my question, leading to the sleeping scene was: will JM sleep with Tae or would JK sleep on the spare bed as a consequence of JM ending up on the other bed because of seniority?

You should have seen my shocked face when JK & JM came running into the room and were already aiming for “JK’s bed”. There was no shock at the fact that Tae was already occupying JM’s bed, it was like they already knew that there would have been only JK’s bed available, and apparently the mattress wasn’t an option which is ironic for a person who is known for having mattresses scattered around his house. But let’s go deeper. Not only did they immediately aim for JK’s bed, but they both seemed to aim for the right side of the bed. At some point during the night, they both took a shower, after playing in the pool, and JM seems to have taken a shower upstairs as they showed JK entering the downstairs bathroom.

If JM took a shower upstairs, he would have seen Tae in his bed watching TV and most likely would have chatted with him and found out that Tae wasn’t feeling too great, which as we saw he then told JK. Thus, there must have been a moment where JM and JK discussed bed allocations before going upstairs and we are going to ignore, for the time being, that both their luggages are on the ground floor … this eventually turned into a race/game as JK sprinted for the right side of the bed, a side which so far, we’ve only seen JM sleep in, as JK has, thus far, only slept on the left side of any bed. 

So now we have a situation where JM is on the left and JK is on the right and they don’t bother changing, but they’ve kinda promised each other not to hit each other, so they are somewhat self-conscious, and stay quite far apart, most likely to assure that they don’t hit each other. Yet, as the night passes you can notice that my Twin-flame subconsciously gets closer to JM. I think he was particularly stressed about not hitting JM at which point he wakes up and decides to go and sleep on the left side of the floor mattress. And me being me thought “If they were cuddled together, they wouldn’t have hit each other…” which made me realise that perhaps JK hit JM in the CT cabin because they were sleeping apart, like on that bed in Jeju, but in opposite positions, because you know … cameras on and all. 

Bed arrangement aside, there are little things that seem to be a constant with the two of them, such as JK ordering food for the both of them, or JM making sure to order food for JK. If we want to be super specific, JK making sure to know if JM is having fun, JM asking JK specifically if JK has tweezers but not asking Tae, who quite quickly gets into his personal space and offers to take whatever hair out with his bare fingers. “Let’s shower”, “let’s eat ramyeon”, “let’s go to bed” … almost everything they do, seems like they want to do together, same as all the activities they have chosen, they seem to have chosen to each other's liking, exerting activities for JK, ocean activities for JM, as well as excellent restaurants for the both of them. In addition “JK, are you no longer hungry?”, “JMsshi you are not eating well”, “JK relax your shoulders”, “JM is prettier …” they also seem to be very attentive to each other, constantly. In fact, if I were to summarise their relationship based on these two episodes, I would say that JK and JM relish in longing, consideration and intimacy.

Episode 4 is by far my favourite episode, and the one I’ve admittedly watched the most. It allowed me to explore all these dynamics and the three of them just seemed to live through their personas so nicely, without having to worry too much about having to entertain while being unintentionally entertaining, like taekook hitting their head on the same spot on the boat or JM giving JK “CPR” as a consequence. NGL to you, I am really looking forward to episode 5. It is their last night together and I think our hosts are truly enjoying their time with their guest. As it is their last night, JK and JM will probably try to be entertaining enough for their guest and Tae will probably try to be just as easy-going to his hosts, regardless, their serenity and lightheartedness is quite soothing to me, so I honestly CAN’T WAIT.   

Always respectfully yours 🫰🏾💜,

Marengo. 

[tomboy014]

The Prince's

So, I hadn’t originally planned on doing anything for Dani, but this post from @aziraphale-is-a-cats-a-cat got me thinking about things, and I ended up writing this.

So, while the men of the Justice League are trying to figure out who Dani is a clone of, Wonder Woman takes one look at the black haired, blue eyed, mischievous girl and can’t help but see herself in her and claim, “Mine.”

The rest of the League try, but there’s no arguing with Diana now that she’s set her mind on something, but Bruce and Clark have kids and know it’s not as easy as it looks to take care of them.  She’s only ever been the “fun aunt;” she’s never had to get into the dirty, exhausting parts of parenthood before.  It escalates to a full-blown argument, but if Dani has any say in it, she’d rather chill at Wonder Woman’s place for a while.  It sounds better than staying in some gross cave or ice castle, and space isn’t her thing (the same way it’s Danny’s), so she’d rather not stay in the Watchtower.

Arguments about clones and custody continue over the next few weeks, not helped by the fact that Dani is still pretty unconcerned about the whole situation.  Or, she was unconcerned until Vlad showed up.  He’d decided enough was enough and it was long past time he collect his property.

It only takes a single scream.

Diana bursts into the room, fist connecting with Vlad’s jaw, and he’s knocked across the room.

“Don’t.  Touch.  My child.”

She proceeds to hand his ass to him on a bronze platter before he flees into the night, bruised and bloody.

Now it’s Dani’s turn to latch onto Diana’s leg, shouting “Mine!”  This is her new, kick-ass mommy and no one else can have her.  Dibs!  No take backs!  Well, it’s settled, now.  Diana is officially Dani’s mom, and no member of the JLA can stop it.  She scoops Dani up in her arms, and before she’s even out the door, she’s already telling the other Amazon’s the good news and making plans to take Dani to Themyscira to meet her γιαγιά Hippolyta. 

The two work on figuring out family life, and all’s good for a while.  Dani’s got a (relatively) stable home life and is quickly adapting to life as “Danielle Prince.”  She likes that the name sounds similar to Diana’s, like it was on purposeful choice rather than a cheap knockoff of her original’s name, and she’s getting a lot more comfortable with it.  Bruce, thoroughly defeated and resigned to put away the adoption papers, helps her enroll is a good school and finds tutors to catch her up on the years of schooling she didn’t live through.  (This includes Jason Todd, who has volunteered himself as an excuse to hang out with Wonder Woman more.)  Louis helps her get legal paperwork and documents for Dani (something she helped do for Kon).  She makes friends with Damian and Jon.  And she’s just as skilled as Danny with language, so she’s picking up Greek rapidly.

Since Diana’s adopted her and she’s gained an army of superpowered babysitters, Dani is finally starting to feel comfortable enough to share some information with the League.  It’s not much, but she lets them know Plasmius is the one who cloned her, and her last name used to be Fenton.

Oh, no.  Between those colors and facial features, Clark has a pretty good guess at which Fenton family she came from.  Still, the family is enormous, so he doesn’t know which Fenton exactly was cloned, but the family reunion is this year, and wouldn’t hurt to give Dani a bigger support system.  Would she and Diana like to come?

Vlad, meanwhile, has recovered and is pissed.  After shadowing Wonder Woman from a healthy distance, he finds out she’s supermodel Diana Prince.  Plasmius may not have been a match for Wonder Woman, but billionaire Vlad Masters is more than capable of taking some supermodel down a peg or two.

So, he approaches Diana at work, telling her he knows who she is and that he wants his “daughter” back.  His “minion” might not have been a match for her, but if she refuses to comply, he’ll ruin her career.

And she laughs.  Laughs right in his face.  Loudly.  Because she knows he’s bluffing.  A billionaire and supermodel isn’t anything new as far as the media is concerned; it’s a cliché.  But a deadbeat billionaire dad threatening to steal back an illegitimate child from an abandoned single mother?  After years of not paying any child support?  The media would eat something like that right up.  Something that could drop stock prices and ruin political careers.  That’s something anyone would be desperate to keep hushed up and out of the media spotlight, and she’ll drag him kicking and screaming into said spotlight if he comes anywhere near her daughter.  Or maybe the media would prefer to know the real story about his illegal cloning?  After all, that went over so well for Lex Luthor. 

Vlad leaves, and Diana makes a few calls.  First, she makes sure Clark heard everything in that conversation and sets him on the warpath against DalvCo if need be.  She gets Bruce up to speed, and if there’s one thing he’s in the best position to do, it’s to hit Vlad where it really hurts: his wallet.  Vlad was already a pretty scummy businessman.  Wayne Enterprises didn’t need much of an excuse to cancel or back out of business deals with him.

But Diana is still shaken up by the event, even if she’s not going to let it show.  Right now, she wants to send Dani away to Themyscira behind a wall of Amazons where she knows no one will be able to touch her, but Bruce and Louis talk her down.  Dani’s finally settling into a normal-ish life, and uprooting her now will not help her, and if push comes to shove, trying to whisk her away will not look good to the courts.  Louis knows a great lawyer, and Bruce is willing to foot the bill.

For Vlad, that did not go as expected at all.  He hadn’t expected her to know Danielle was a clone, and he doesn’t want Danielle to be public knowledge.  However, he has no intention of getting lawyers involved; she’d be expecting that.  No, he has something far more insidious planned.  It’s been decades since he’s attended one, but the Fenton Family Reunion should be coming up soon, and as far at that family is concerned, once a Fenton, always a Fenton.  She’s prepared to fight lawyers?  Well, Let’s see how she fares against an army of angry grandparents and disapproving aunts demanding that his poor child be returned to him once he sets the family on the warpath.

[mxltifxnd0m]

ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴇxᴇʀᴄɪꜱᴇ

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Summary: You spar with Miguel 

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara x spider fem! Reader, fem reader is a Spider-Woman

Words: 2.5K

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Warnings: none, some sexual tension, banter, reader loves to annoy Miguel, no use of y/n

A/N: I have no clue if I should post this after months of not writing lol (so if it does hi tumblr it has been a while 😅). And as always thank you to my wife @songofpatrochilless for beta reading!

A/N pt.2: try and find the vampire by olivia rodrigo reference 🤭

𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘰'𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

An alert from your watch makes you stop typing the report you were writing for Tony. You look at it confused since you don’t typically get a message or an alert on your days off. You tap on the watch, and Lyla appears on your desk. 

“Hey, Lyla!” You greet her cheerfully, “What does Miguel need from me?” 

“He needs you at HQ, Miguel said something about training?” Lyla tells you. 

“You don’t sound too sure about why he’s calling me either.” 

Lyla just shrugs at you and says to hurry up. You roll your eyes at her and tell her you’ll be at HQ. She disappears with a little salute and pulling out your phone, you text the team that you’ll be out for a couple of hours. 

You tap on the spider pendant hanging from your necklace twice. Your spider suit (sans mask) forms around your body. You tap on the watch and configure it to go to Earth-928B. The hexagonal portal opens, and you begin to walk through it, getting pulled through. Being welcomed by the sight of the infinite universes never ceases to amaze you. After a minute, the portal opens and you end up in the elevator in HQ. As you leave the elevator and head to Miguel’s office, the various variants of Peter Parker and other spider people greet you as you pass them. 

You can hear your footsteps echo through the empty halls as you near Miguel’s (cave) office.

“So, is there a multiversal villain that isn't in their universe, and that's why you called me on my day off, or did you miss me?” You call out to Miguel as you enter his office with your hands on your hips and a smug smile as his desk floats down slowly. 

"You know you should fix that to make it go down faster." You quip. 

His desk finally reaches the floor, and Miguel is unamused. 

“Neither.” He responds, deciding to ignore the comment that you made about his desk. Your eyes widen slightly in disbelief as you observe Miguel's choice of clothing. 

“Ermm…so where’s the suit? I wasn’t aware that we had casual Fridays at HQ now, and I didn’t take you to be someone to wear their symbol on their casual wear.” You stifle a laugh as your hand gestures to the loose-fitting grey joggers and tight black compression tank top with his emblem stitched in the front that he is wearing instead of his usual red and blue spider suit. 

There’s a hint of a smirk as he sees your eyes trail over his form.

“We don’t.” He responds to my question, “But we’re training today.” He goes to leave the room. You quickly follow him after him as you trail behind him slightly. 

“Wait, slow your roll, Dracula! What do you mean by training?” 

Miguel scoffed at the nickname, “I haven’t been able to see what you are capable of, so you and I are going to spar.” He explains as he walks toward the training room. 

“I thought you recruited people based on their experience?” 

“I landed in your universe on a whim-“ 

“You mean you got sucker punched into my universe trying to get back to this one and passed out.” You interrupt Miguel. 

He sighed heavily, “I landed in your universe and wasn’t planning to recruit you until I figured out what you could do. What the others don’t do.” 

His comment rendered you speechless, not liking how he tried to bring up your past. You guys spent the rest of the walk in silence. You felt you were nearing your destination. You were right as he stopped before a door and opened it, and Miguel gestured for you to enter first. 

“Well, would you look at that? Miguel O’Hara has manners.” you tease as you enter the mysterious room. 

“Hardy har har, I've never heard that one before.” He says dryly. 

As you walk in, the room is pitch black, and all you can hear is Miguel’s footsteps. You hear a click and the hum of electricity before the bright lights flicker on.

The sudden brightness throws you off slightly. You have to blink a couple of times to clear your vision. The first thing you notice is that the room is massive. Foam mats line the floor, leading you to believe those are for sparring. Where there aren’t foam mats, linoleum pathways lead you to different parts of the room.

As your eyes move to the left side of the room, there is a window that looks into what seems to be a dance studio? You can see the barre used for ballet, and you suspect that the “window” is a two-way mirror. You raise an eyebrow at the dance studio, wondering why there was one in the first place, but you continue to scan the room.

The ceiling is incredibly high, with metal bars protruding from the walls leading up to the high ceiling, and from the ceiling itself. Then, your eyes landed on the center of the room. There was a boxing ring, and Miguel was standing in the middle.

“I thought there was already a training facility that the others use?”You question Miguel as you begin to walk up to the ring.  

“This is an old one before I had the other built. It’s a bit outdated for the others. So, no one uses it anymore. But I’m using it to see what you can do. Do you have clothes underneath your suit?” 

“No, I go commando all the time.” You snark at him. 

Miguel sends you a look, his red eyes flashing slightly at you. 

“Yes, I have my plain clothes underneath.” You answer with a slight sigh.

He gestured to the right side of the room, where a door labeled locker rooms was.

“There should be some spare clothes in one of those lockers. Get changed, and meet me back here.” He ordered.

You nod and walk into the locker rooms. Inside, the room was split into two, with a door leading to a men's and women's side. You walked into the woman’s side, and it looked like a generic locker room. Lockers lined the walls furthest from the door you entered from, changing stalls to the left and sinks and bathroom stalls to the right. The lockers had no locks, so you pulled a random one open. There was a black sports bra and some black leggings. You close the locker door with the clothes in hand and head to the changing stalls.

Once you had gotten changed, your feet quietly led you out of the locker room, and you lifted your eyes from the ground to see Miguel raising his arms above his head, making his shirt rise slightly, giving you a good look at his prominent v-line and how low his pants are sitting at his hips. You feel yourself flush at the sight of Miguel’s tan skin. You clear your throat to alert Miguel. As you climbed into the ring, you could feel his eyes on you. 

“So, are you ready to go down Nosferatu?” You ask him with a teasing grin on my face. 

He rolls his eyes at me and puts his hands on his hips, “Some ground rules before we start. No webs, no face shots, and tap out if you get pinned. And stop calling me that.” He explains as he points his finger at me.

“Got it, and I’m not going to.” There’s a grin on your face. “But one thing before we start.” 

“What is it?” He says, getting a little impatient. 

“Are you sure you want to spar with me specifically?” 

“Why? Are you afraid that you’ll lose? I don’t see a problem with that.” Miguel says while shrugging with a half smile on his face. 

You grin wide at his cockiness, “Great, you’re feeling confident. No, I’m not afraid. I just wanted to ask if you thought this through.” 

“And why is that? Humor me.” Amusement coated his tone.

“You’re asking the person groomed to be an assassin since they were 9 to see what they can do. I have to say it’s not one of your brightest ideas, Mig.” As soon as you finished your sentence, you went to swipe his feet from underneath him, but at the last second, he managed to dodge your attack. 

“I guess we’re starting now.” He mutters under his breath as he gets into a defensive position, but your advanced hearing makes it easy for you to hear his words. 

The both of you begin to circle each other. The both of you are in defensive positions and waiting for the other to strike.

“Bring it, Miggy.” You flash him a smirk, your tone teasing as you make the hand gesture to come at you. He lunges at you. 

As the both of you spar in the boxing ring, neither can keep the other pinned. You can feel the sweat coat your body, your chest heaves from exertion, but you can’t wipe away the smile on your face. It had been a while since you’d been able to spar with someone that matched your skill level. 

You guys reached a standstill. You and Miguel start to circle one another once again. You decide that you have to finish this. You run full speed at Miguel, surprising him. Miguel was unprepared for the sudden attack. You jump and wrap your legs around his head and neck. Using momentum, you twist your body to bring him to the ground. He fell on his back hard on the mat as you landed on your feet. You take this as a chance to pin him down. You straddle his waist and pin his wrists down onto the floor. 

You lean over him, your face hovering over his. You can tell that Miguel was not anticipating your sudden move. The wind got knocked out of him. His breaths were harsh and shallow. You smile smugly at Miguel once he opens his eyes. 

“Do you yield?” You tease him as you lean further down into Miguel, feeling his harsh breath hitting your skin. You can see him swallow hard and try to get out of your grip, but you fight against his attempts to get out of your grasp. 

“Are you trying to get me off of you?” You coo at him, laughing slightly at his attempts. His face twists into a snarl at your teasing. He bares his fangs at you as he tries to get you off. 

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that Miggy.” You taunt him as you tighten your grip around his thick wrists and squeeze your thighs around his waist. He suddenly stops wriggling around, and a smirk appears on his face. He leans closer to your face, your noses brushing against one another. The smile slips off your face as you stare into Miguel’s ruby-red eyes. 

“You know, you shouldn’t let proximity distract you, Hermosa,” Miguel says in a sultry whisper, his words fanning over your lips, and you can feel yourself swallow hard at his words. 

“It’s not.” You croak out, feeling your chest tighten. Miguel brushes his lips over yours. You were not expecting that, and your grip on his wrist falters. Suddenly, you feel the world turn upside down. 

You groan as you land flat on your back from Miguel flipping you over him. As you try to scramble to get up, Miguel straddles your legs and pins your wrists to the mat with one of his hands, reversing the position that you had previously. 

You look up at Miguel hovering over you with the smugest smirk you’ve ever seen on his face. You try to figure out how to get out from underneath him, but he has your legs pinned. You wriggle around and try to thrust your hips up to throw Miguel off you. Your attempts are futile since he’s so much bigger than you. Miguel chuckles lowly at your poor attempts to get him off of you.

“Don’t let the enemy distract you.” He whispers in your ear and chuckles as he moves back and gets off of you. You curse under your breath and stay lying on the mat.

You hear Miguel pad off to a corner of the ring to grab a towel to wipe his sweat off and drink his water. You close your eyes. You take a minute to catch your breath and compose yourself, feeling flustered by Miguel’s actions.

After a few minutes of laying there, you can hear Miguel walk toward you and toss a towel, landing on your stomach. 

“Get up.” He nudges your side with his foot.

You groan while opening your eyes, squinting a bit as your eyes adjust quickly to the bright lights of the unused gym. You took the towel off your stomach and sat up.  You wiped the sweat off of your face and neck. After wiping the sweat off, you wrapped the towel around your neck. You could see Miguel’s hand appear in front of your face. You take it, and he pulls you up from the floor.

“So, how did I do?” You ask him. 

“You’re better than I expected.” 

“Wow, did you expect a fully trained assassin not to be capable?” You scoff jokingly at his words. 

“I mean, you’re better than everyone else that I’ve recruited so far.” 

“That I am.” You smile. You guys leave the old training area and head back to his office. 

“So that’s all you wanted me here for?” 

He nodded at you. “Today is a slow day for anomalies. So I decided it was time to test you.” 

As soon as he uttered those words, multiple alerts went off on his watch. It was as if the universe heard his words. Lyla appeared and alerted Miguel that there was a Rhino anomaly in Earth-5573. He groans slightly in frustration and looks at you. “I know it's your day off, but could you help?”

"Yeah, I was bored doing some paperwork anyway." You shrug.

"Okay, head to that earth, and I’ll send Jess with you.” 

You hum in confirmation. You press your spider pendant. In a second, your suit forms around your body. You look down at your watch and open a portal to Earth-5573. Miguel grasped your wrist before you left, making you look back at him.

Miguel had an unreadable look in his eyes. You look down at his hand and back at him. He seems to snap out of whatever daze he is in and clears his throat while fixing his posture. 

“Don’t be reckless out there.” He says sternly, but you can hear the warmth in his words. 

You smirk at him, “Will do, boss.” You salute him playfully at him. “Oh, Miguel!” You call out to him.“Don’t let anyone hear that, or they’ll think you have a heart.” You tease him before walking through the portal, and the last thing you see is Miguel scowling. A giggle escapes my mouth before the portal closes, and you head to Earth-5573.