#he keeps it in his pocket unless hes in a place where he could easily drop it and not realise (such as redstone or flying long distances)

[boatemboys]

i forgot how much i like ahasbands/redwood?? whatever. theyre so domestic they make me sick

[sweetsweetjellybean]

A night out with friends turns into a surprise welcome home party for the man who broke your heart, Eddie Munson.

Masterlist Listen to Scar Tissue Here

What to expect: Second Chance Romance set in 2012 Chicago, with flashbacks at the beginning of each chapter.  Eddie and Steve are in their 30s. Fem!Reader is given a pet name from each of the guys. No other name mentioned. No use of Y/N. No physical description. Reader does have a bit of personality, as I find it nearly impossible to keep her blank for such a long fic. You may find yourself at times making choices that you wouldn't normally make, but I hope you can put that aside and enjoy the ride. Sensitive Content. 18+ Guaranteed happy ending. This is my love letter to Eddie Munson.

WC:5162. Beta'd by @superblysubpar

“Have a good day,” your mother calls out as you shut the front door to the gray clapboard-sided home that your parents had fallen in love with the moment they laid eyes on it. You hadn’t even gotten past the front steps before she appears in the doorway, pulling her purple terry-cloth robe tighter around her shoulders as she calls you back. “You don’t have to come right home after school,” she tells you, pressing a few folded bills into your hand, “Go out with your friends. Have some fun.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You muster up a smile, shoving the bills into the front pocket of your Levi's, certain they will end up in the ceramic pink elephant bank that sits atop your dresser, just like the money she gave you last week. She watches you walk down the steps, giving you a wave before she turns away, shutting the door behind her. 

She tries her best, but she doesn't understand that friendships in the seventh grade aren't made as easily as they were in kindergarten, and you can't tell her that in the six weeks you've been enrolled at Hawkins Middle School, not a soul has spoken to you unless asked to by a teacher. 

This was the life that your parents had chosen, a career that demanded constant relocation and upheaval. "It's an adventure," they'd tell you as your things were being packed into boxes. But the older you got, it felt less like an adventure and more like a test. A test to prove yourself over and over. There’s a phrase your mom has uttered so often over the years, that it's surprising it's not embroidered on the throw pillows. Bloom where you're planted. But here, in this town, you're only a weed in the garden.

Hawkins isn't any worse or better than any of the other ten places you've lived in the last seven years, but these kids have been together since birth and aren't eager to welcome newcomers into the flock. Pouring your efforts into being confident and friendly, projecting a cool and unbothered facade, the constant exposure has left you empty. The mask is too heavy, and you’ve been wearing it far too long. If this were one of the comics you kept in the box under your bed, you'd be discovering your superpower–Invisibility. They don't see you here, and maybe they never would. 

The edges of folded bills in your pocket press into the meat of your thigh. Adding them to your total should give you enough for the new Elastica CD.  With a bit of luck, you might be able to talk your dad into driving you to Tower Records in Indianapolis this weekend. A few houses away, the battered front door of a small yellow cape opens with a click and thud, drawing your attention. The house was more run-down than the others on this street. The grass was left to grow a little longer before being mowed, and a few nights a week, you could hear the yelling coming from inside before seeing the slow flash of lights of a cruiser parked in front. 

A boy with curly shoulder-length hair bounds out from inside the house, slinging on his worn backpack as he hits the sidewalk.

Right on time this morning. 

The scuff of your white Doc Martens falls in step with the crunch of his black Converse hitting the pavement. The chain running from his back pocket to his hip sways with his movements. It’s more of a determined bounce than a walk. Your eyes stay trained on the frayed holes of his Jansport, corners of textbooks and papers pushing through. You keep waiting for physics to kick in and the thing to give way entirely.

“Quit following me.” 

His voice floats over his shoulder, shattering the quiet of the morning. Your head swivels from side to side, looking for whoever he is speaking to. His body turns until he’s walking backward, both hands gripping the straps of his backpack, casting his expectant brown eyes on you. 

“Me?” You ask, touching your chipped painted fingernails to your chest.

“You’ve been following me for weeks, and it’s creepy.”

“I’m not following you,” you say incredulously, “We’re just going to the same place.”

“Well, walk on the other side of the street or something,” he says, turning back around, continuing on his way like he assumes you’ll comply.

“No.” 

Your defiance comes out flat and solid, drawing a line, sick of him and this whole town.

“Yes,” the word comes back without a glance, utterly unbothered by your show of determination.

“No,” you repeat louder, your eyebrows pulling together in a scowl, “If you don’t like it, you walk over there.”

“I was here first.”

“Seriously?” The anger in your chest turns to heat, rising up your neck and settling in your face. Your mouth opens, ready to unleash the venom sitting on the tip of your tongue when he stops walking.

“Might as well walk beside me then.”

Surprise melts the words in your mouth as your feet carry you forward until you’re close enough to see the freckles covering his nose. His eyes stay forward as his stride lines up with yours, moving forward at a more relaxed pace. A light breeze rustles the leaves of the Maples lining the street. The sound of your footsteps is interrupted by the occasional passing car. 

“You’re in seventh, right? You got Schnider?” He asks, his eyes darting to your face.

“Yeah.” You nod, looking down at your boots.

"Bad luck. She's a real bitch. I had her last year."

Answering with a shrug, you risk a look back at him. Long eyelashes framing big doe eyes, a sweet face he tries to hide with a hard shell. He wears a mask, too. 

Your brain’s on overload for the rest of the day—thoughts of the boy coloring away the hours like a secret, overanalyzing every bit of your interaction. When the shrill sound of the final bell rings, you join the current of students, gathering your belongings and exiting the building in a wave.

The fresh air is a welcome escape from the stuffy classroom as you cross behind the school past the football field, heading toward the path through the woods where the boy is lingering just beyond the gate, digging through his pack but coming up with nothing like maybe he had been waiting. Without a word, he falls into step beside you. When you look at him, this time, he meets your eyes. The sunlight flickers through the swaying leaves as your footsteps resonate through the trees as you continue together.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," his voice cuts the quiet air when you reach the front steps of his house, his tone revealing a hint of uncertainty. 

"I'll be headed the same way," you answer.

He turns away from you, pausing with his foot on the top step, looking up at his house before looking back at you. 

"I'm Eddie, by the way," he offers, his cheeks pinking at the vulnerability his words carry.

"I know," you respond, a small smile gracing your lips as you continue home.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," you mutter, tucking your phone into your clutch and bolting up the marble steps to the second floor of the Kimpton Grey Hotel. Composing yourself as you pass through the lobby and open the double doors into Vol.39. The bar exudes timeless elegance with its dim, warm light shining on the dark-wood accents. Vintage jazz playing through hidden speakers, sounding like smoke and liquor. Everything here is steeped in leather, old money, and sophistication. It's no surprise that Nancy chose it. 

"You're late," Nancy says flatly, no amusement in the blue eyes framed by the blunt cut of her black, sleek hair as she glances at her watch with disapproval.

"Sorry." You slide into the open seat on the tufted couch across from her, adjusting the material of your dark emerald midi skirt so the slit wouldn't be showing off too much thigh, "There was traffic." It definitely wasn’t the extra half hour you spent with your feet up on your desk at Stax listening to the new release from Band of Horses.

"This is Chicago. There's always traffic," she counters, keeping her voice low enough that it doesn't travel past the lit bookshelves lined with leather-bound encyclopedias framing the seating area that your friends are currently occupying. "That's why I gave you a time a week ago. So you could plan ahead."

"She’s in a mood," Argyle says from the corner of his mouth, his hair falling around him like a curtain as he leans closer from the velvet upholstered club chair beside you. 

"Where's Steve?" Nancy demands, setting down her crystal tumbler on the gray marble table in the center of the space.

"He's not here?" you ask, scanning the bar. "It was Robin’s turn to watch him."

"Me?" Robin exhales from the other end of the couch she shares with Nancy.

"You're his best friend," you point out with a quirk of your brow.

"Yeah, but you're his–"

"I don't know why I bother to organize nights out for all of us if no one is going to be on time," Nancy cuts off Robin, huffing as she crosses her slender arms over her chest.

"It will be fine, Nance," Johnathan reassures, coming back from the bar carrying a flight of martinis he sets down in the center of the table. "Just relax. Everyone's going to be here in plenty of time." He takes the seat beside her, comforting her with his arm around her shoulder. 

Nancy and Johnathan have been on again-off again since she left Hawkins for school in Boston. Rekindling their relationship when she moved to Chicago and accepted a position at Spectrum Media, where she still works as their vice-president of content strategy. 

"Plenty of time for what?" You ask, leaning forward to choose a martini, picking the Astoria with a knot of lemon. 

"There's a mystery guest," Robin says, wriggling her brows and hooking her thumb towards Nancy. “Full of surprises, isn't she?”

"Where's Flora tonight?" You ask Robin, noticing she is without an escort. 

"Flora?" She asks, picking up a drink for herself, "That was over a week ago." She dismisses her with a wave of the hand before running it through her wavy blonde streaked locks, "Sadly, she left for a goat herding commune in Sacramento. I've been seeing someone new, a painter named Taylor. She's on exhibit at Magnolia. Her florals are really dreamy." She bites an olive off the end of her toothpick, sighing. 

Smiling around the lip of your glass, you shake your head. Robin works as an exhibit coordinator for Magnolia Gallery in Wicker Park, falling in and out of love with artists as quickly as she sells their pieces. You give her credit, she's having fun. 

"Did you text him?" Nancy asks, her lips twisting with impatience. The tense clench of her jaw has you setting down your drink and reaching for your clutch with no arguments. "Do you know how hard it was to get this reservation?"

"Then why are we here?" Argyle complains, gesturing around the room while he slumps back in his chair, swirling the amber liquid in his glass with the other. "You know I own like six bars, right? No reservations required."

"But then you'd be working," Nancy explains, as Argyle smoothes out his handlebar mustache.

"I'm always working, babe," Argyle says with a smirk, looking the part of a restaurateur and music promoter in his shiny flat-front trousers and short-sleeved silk shirt. 

Argyle is a new friend - meaning not from Hawkins. The California transplant, whose family owns a chain of successful pizza restaurants, has breathed new life into the Chicago music scene. Booking up-and-coming acts as well as big names into his bars and venues all across the city. He's a good friend to have, especially in your line of work–a music journalist for Stax the city's premiere music, arts, and culture magazine.

“He’s on his way,” you inform them, setting your phone face down on the table before settling back on the couch.

“On his way or leaving now?” Nancy shakes her head, knowing with Steve it’s probably the latter. “Why didn’t you ride with him?” She asks, turning toward Jonathan.

“I wasn’t in the office today. I was on a shoot,” he says, pulling his arm away from her and setting his drink down harder than necessary, his patience with her at an end. 

Jonathan, like you and Steve, works for the conglomerate Second City Media. Nancy likes to think that she permits the three of you to work for her competitor, but Steve had already gotten his foot in the door, securing himself an entry-level position at Metro Sports division before she was even out of grad school. Jonathan had been doing alright freelancing as a photographer, but when Nancy started at Spectrum, Second City recognized their competitor would wind up with an edge and hired him on as full-time staff. Everyone knows it's better for their relationship not to be working in the same place, especially with Nancy as his boss.

“Give us some clues about this mystery guest,” Robin interjects to lower the temperature between the couple, which is ready to boil over.

"Okay, I'm here." Steve comes from behind you, his voice alerting you to his arrival before you see him. His tie is already missing, the first three buttons of his starched shirt undone beneath his midnight blue suit, and his hair tousled from a day of running his hands through.

"Really, Steve? You couldn't be on time just this once?" Nancy scolds him, rolling her eyes.

"Meeting ran late. You know how it is," he leans down to kiss her cheek,"Or maybe you don't. I heard things are a bit slow over there at Spectrum," he teases, earning a smirk from Johnathan. 

Steve worked his way up from the sports division to chief content officer for Second City Media. The position puts him just shy of the power Nancy holds at Spectrum, fueling the pair's competitive and ambitious nature until their bickering often drives everyone else crazy.

"Steve," Robin draws his attention before Nancy gets the chance to respond, "About tomorrow–"

"Just a minute, Robin. I haven't gotten to kiss my beautiful wife hello." He steps over Argyle's legs and gives the man a quick handshake in greeting before sitting next to you on the sofa.

"I'm not your wife yet, handsome," you tell him as his strong hands cup your cheeks, tipping your head up toward him. 

"But it sounds good, doesn't it?" He asks before soft lips close over yours, his thumb pressing on your chin, asking for access to deepen the kiss beyond the line that's appropriate in front of company. 

"Niiiice," Argyle hums as the others snicker. Steve takes a hand off your cheek, holding it in front of you to block some of their views as his mouth moves hotly over yours. 

"God, you two are sickening," Nancy's remark is probably accompanied by an eye roll, but you're too occupied to notice as you tighten your grip on the front of Steve's shirt, drawing him nearer.

Four of his fingers curl down, giving Nance a one-fingered message as he continues to kiss you until he's had his fill. Breaking away with a gentle peck. "How was your day today, Ace? Did you write me a Pulitzer?" 

"You ask me that every day."

Despite teasing you, he wouldn't be surprised if you had what it takes. That's how much he believes in you. He takes your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips to place a kiss next to the glittering diamond he put on your hand a little over two years ago. 

"Excuse you." Robin climbs over Argyle's legs that are still stretched out in front of him, taking up all the space between the chairs and the table, and walks over to the couch, squeezing her way onto the sofa between you and Steve, "Best friend privileges." She winks before launching into a conversation about the next exhibit she's putting together.

"You two crazy kids set a date yet?" Argyle asks at a volume higher than you'd prefer. Raising your index finger to your lips, eyebrows drawing together as your eyes flick over to Steve.

"I'm just making sure my invite didn't get lost in the mail," he says, sipping his drink. "I love weddings, man—all those tiny little versions of regular-sized food. Maybe I should open a restaurant like that, where everything is tiny. Tiny little kebabs and tiki drinks with tiny little umbrellas. I don't know what's taking you so long. You need to make an honest man out of him." His voice grows louder at the end of his sentence, earning him another look from you, a distraction that diverts Steve's attention from his conversation.

The waitress chooses that moment to appear, saving you from another conversation about setting a wedding date. It's not that you don't want to marry him–you do. Someday. Decisiveness has never been your strong suit, along with dressing up in big puffy dresses that look like frosting and being on display for everyone you have ever known and their plus ones. 

While Steve squints down at the drink menu, fondness warms you like the opening notes of your favorite song. Reaching across Robin, you tap his chest. He looks over at you as he pulls a pair of glasses from his breast pocket and slides them on his nose.

Your lips move without sound–I love you.

You too, he mouths back. His mossy eyes softening as he smiles just for you. 

You're happy. Why change a thing?

“I’ll have an old-fashioned. Top shelf. Please,” Steve tells the waitress after she had gone around taking orders for small plates to share and more cocktails from the others. “Another Martini?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Yes, please. An Astoria,” you tell her as she finishes scribbling everything down on her pad and heads off toward the bar to put in your orders. 

“The ladies?” You tip your head at Robin, who nods, getting up to follow you. Steve squeezes your hand as you walk by as he continues his conversation with Nancy about the effectiveness of paywalls on digital content.

“God, she’s in rare form,” Robin comments as you enter the empty ladies' room, each of you closing yourself into a stall.

“Are she and Jonathan fighting again?” You ask once you’ve finished up and moved to the sink to wash your hands. The echo of your voices bouncing off the black and white hexagon tiles.

“When aren’t they fighting?” She pulls a few paper towels from the machine bolted to the wall and drys her hands. “It’s like foreplay for them at this point.”

You laugh, checking under your eyes for make-up smears. “Any ideas about this mystery guest?”

“No idea.” She tugs the brass handle of the door open, and you follow her back into the bar. “Maybe her brother?” 

“That would be nice,” you say, your boot heels tapping on the dark chevron floors, “He just got married, right?”

“So young, practically still a baby,” she tuts, her head shaking from side to side.

“Robin, he’s not that-”

Robin's hand clamps onto your forearm, a squeal escaping her mouth as excitement radiates through her. She bounces on her toes, leaving you in her wake. Whoever elicited such a reaction is being blocked by Steve and Jonathan. When she gracefully maneuvers past them, you catch a fleeting glimpse of dark curls before the two men shift back into place, obscuring your view once more. The clinking of glasses and chatter from the other patrons swells in your ears. Your feet carry you forward, curiosity resonating like the reverb of a guitar. Steve feels you coming up behind him and shifts to the side. Without warning, rich chocolate eyes are locked onto yours. Eyes you haven’t seen in eleven years when he left you a mixtape instead of a goodbye. The eyes of the man that shattered your heart into so many pieces, all the edges are still sharp. 

“Hey, doll.”

The breath trapped in your lungs forms a suffocating bubble, its dull, aching pressure stifling any movement in or out, causing your body to lock in protest. You're tugged forward, unable to fight it, until your body collides with his. The faint but familiar scent of him embraces you, lingering beneath the spicy notes of expensive cologne. Triggering a flood of a hundred painful memories, like songs you’ve overplayed and can’t bear to hear again. They jar your instincts into overriding the shock, compelling you to push him away. Eddie's solid frame absorbs the force. To your relief, the others haven't noticed as you retreat to your seat. Your trembling hand raises your martini to your lips, taking larger swallows than you normally would, but nothing with this situation is normal. 

"Desperate times," you mutter under your breath, tipping back your glass. By the time everyone has settled back into their seats, your martini glass stands drained, the lingering taste of its contents  bittersweet on your tongue.

Steve directs the waitress to bring another drink for you and a double Mescal for Eddie. The others' voices are a distant buzz in your ears, but their words don't breach the barrier of your thoughts. The chords playing in your mind are more discernible now. Their lyrics printed onto the faded photographs of a boy that you struggle to reconcile as the man before you. He's older, but you are too. His long hair is much shorter, the dark curls a richer brown pushed away from his face. A few lines grace the corners of his eyes and forehead–a reminder of the life he's lived without you. 

Steve's comforting hand wraps around your shoulders while the other finds a home sliding between the soft skin where your legs are crossed, exposed by the high slit of your skirt. Eddie's eyes are on you, his stare focused on Steve's big hand covering half your thigh. Your left hand moves on top of Steve's, adjusting to make sure the sparkling rock on your finger gleams with brilliance in the soft, ambient light.

"Well, this is a blast from the past," Robin notes, her voice full of whimsy as she dangles her cocktail glass between two fingers, swaying it gently like a pendulum.

"Aren't you all glad I forced you to come out?" Nancy quips, much more relaxed now that her plan has come to fruition.

"You did good, love," Johnathan murmurs. His fingers tangling with hers before giving her a quick peck. 

"Absolutely. I wouldn't have wanted to miss this," Steve agrees, "How long has it been, dude? Three, four years?"

"Yeah, I think that was the last time you were in L.A." Eddie scratches at his chin, covered with just enough scruff to almost be a beard. 

Steve keeps in touch with Eddie? Had he told you when you hadn't been paying attention to him, your mind wandering with the words you would write for other people's songs?

"Now, I know that I told you only old friends," Nancy says, angling herself towards the plaid upholstered chair that Eddie occupies. "But Argyle knows all the local talent, and I thought he'd be a good connection to have since you're moving here."

"What?" You ask, as if a sudden vacuum has just sucked the air from the room.

"You're moving here?" Robin's eyes light up with excitement at the prospect of all her friends in the same city. She was the original connection that brought you together all those years ago. 

"When you say here. You mean Hawkins, right? You're moving back to Hawkins," you clarify.

"No. I mean here. I'm moving to Chicago," Eddie says, leaning back into his chair, his long legs spread in his tailored black suit, the black v-neck underneath giving off a laid-back California vibe. "I told those corporate studio fucks I was done. I'm opening my own place to record music that's actually good, not just the kind that will sell. I'm surprised you don't know all this, doll. Isn't it supposed to be your job or something?"

“Fu–”

"Why Chicago?" Jonathan asks, cutting you off before you let loose a very appropriate response to his question, "Why not stay in L.A. or New York. Aren't there music scenes bigger than here?"

Eddie tips his head to the side, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "You know, L.A.'s lost its charm for me. Too many fake people made out of plastic. And, well, Wayne's not getting any younger. Thought it's about time to be closer, you know?"

“You'd be much closer in Hawkins. Bet you could find a place downtown real cheap. You should go look there.” You cross your arms over your chest, drawing a line in the sand. 

“Hawkins doesn’t really scream rock ‘n’ roll, and I already got a place, but thanks,” he says, unconcerned as ever by your tone.

“Look at you two,” Robin says, clapping her hands, “Just like old times, back to your usual banter." Her mischievous grin widens, "Remember when she had that massive crush on you, Eddie? You’d stroll into Musicland during our shift, and she’d follow you around with those big heart eyes.”

Your ears ring as heat rushes up to your neck to your cheeks,the whole world spinning. Eddie looks down, swirling the remnants of gold liquid in his crystal-cut glass.

“You’re exaggerating, Robin,” you sputter, reaching for your drink, hiding behind the lip of the glass, “We were just friends. And it couldn’t have been too major. I don’t even remember it.”

“Oh, come on,” she protests, “Everybody knew.”

"I didn't," Steve's voice cuts through her teasing, leaving an awkward stillness in its wake. The distant sounds of high-pitched laughter and the faint scrape of utensils against plates fill the void. Your friends exchange uncomfortable glances, even though there was no malice in his tone.

“Hey, it’s no big deal, though,” his smile puts everyone at ease. “Right, Ace?” His head dips, brushing your lips in confirmation. You nod as he continues, “Robin, remember when we both went on dates with the same girl. What was her name? Brenda.” His fingers snap with the recollection.

“That’s right, Brenda! Brenda Mackenzie!” Robin laughs and begins to regale the group with the story.

When you lift your eyes, Eddie’s stare remains fixed on you, amusement replaced with an intensity you can’t read. An unfinished sentence or lyric. Words hanging between you like a question that you can't answer—one that you don’t want to.

“I’m going for another drink,” you say to Steve, picking up your empty glass. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asks, brows drawing together.

“No, I’m okay,” you tell him with a plastered-on smile, “You want anything?”

He shakes his head no. “I let my car service go early. I’ll drive us home in your car.”

With gentle fingers, you sweep aside a stray lock of hair that's draped across his forehead, planting a tender kiss on his lips before making your way to the bar. 

There is a soft creak of the leather as you seat yourself on a high stool in front of the polished wood bar. A bartender with an easy smile takes your order and leaves, giving you a much needed moment alone. Your lungs expand and contract without releasing any tension. You study your reflection in the mirror behind the rows of brightly lit bottles. If you could rewind the tape to a few hours ago, you'd have happily stayed in your office. Calling Nancy tomorrow to grovel for forgiveness for messing up her plans. But you can’t and the song plays on. It’s always the music that hurts the worst.

You release an audible sigh, your breath escaping through parted lips, as he settles onto the stool beside you. With a casual tap of his rings against the bar, he signals for the bartender, raising a single finger, his tongue peeks out, grazing his bottom lip as he gestures toward his empty glass.

"What’s the matter, doll? You really that unhappy to see me?" Eddie drawls, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"It’s been eleven years, Eddie. Sorry I’m not organizing a parade." You settle back into your seat, glancing around as if you're bored.

The bartender lowers his eyes as they deliver your drinks and wisely retreats to the far end of the establishment.

"I didn’t come here to fight," Eddie replies, his tone softening. He shifts his weight slightly on the stool, one arm resting casually on the counter, the glint of a gold chain around his neck catching the dim light.

"Then why are you here?" Your eyes narrow as your fingers trace the condensation on the side of the full glass.

"A fresh start. To build something of my own." He looks at you with determination, his dark eyes reflecting the soft glow of the bar lights.

"Then build it somewhere else," you respond curtly, your words laced with frustration. You pick up your drink and down half of it in one go, the chilled liquid leaving a slight burn as it slides down your throat. Setting the glass back down, you turn to leave.

He stops you with a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist, his touch causing your pulse to quicken beneath his fingertips. "There are some things I want to say to you. Let me take you to lunch unless Harrington has got you on too short of a leash."

You pull your wrist back, the feel of his touch lingering like smoke in the air. "Whatever you have to say has waited this long, try again in another decade. Unless you're dying."

"Would it make a difference if I was?" He meets your gaze with amusement playing on his lips.

"Let me think about it… nope." Your reply is quick and sharp, meant to cut.

"I know you're mad–" 

"No. Mad would imply some kind of emotional attachment. What I feel is indifference. In case you don't know the definition, that means nothing at all." Your voice stays cool and detached as you hop off the stool. "It's a big city, Eddie. There's no reason we have to see each other again." 

"We'll have to see about that," he smirks. 

"Have a nice life," you say a final goodbye to your past and turn away, walking in the direction of Steve when he stops you with one more question.

"Did you listen to it? The tape, did you ever listen?" 

The lie comes without hesitation. 

“No.”

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Read Song 2. here

AN: I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it. If you have a song that you think Eddie would have recorded on the mixtape send it to me in an ask and it might be included. Anything before 2001. I'd love to hear from you. Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated.

[statisticallymorelikely]

00Q au edit for @ironpe: pre-MI6 relationship

AU where Q and James had a relationship before James was recruited to MI6. After a hasty recruitment, James disappears suddenly, ordered not to contact anyone from his past life, including his lover, the man who would become Q. He's pronounced dead from a botched Naval mission that never happened, and Q goes on to search for him tirelessly for years. Until, one day, they finally meet again, as agent and quartermaster.

---

After one particularly close call, James decides enough is enough. If he can die at any moment, he'd rather do it without any more regrets adding to the pile. So when he goes to return his equipment, he ignores R completely, marches into Q's office and stands right there, locking the door behind him.

Q's mouth opens, but James beats him to it. "I'm not leaving."

"007," Q sighs. "Unless the world is actively imploding, I have nothing to say to you. Kindly return your equipment to your designated handler."

"Alright, Q, you don't need to talk. I only need you to listen to me."

Q stands up, arms folded. Though his demeanor seems guarded, James notes the excessive blinking and the clench in his jaw. "I don't want to listen to any of your excuses, 007."

"No excuses, Q. I'm here to apologize." James lets out a rumbling breath. He can practically hear the grief and regret rattling in his bones, he's tired. "I shouldn't have left like I did. I've broken rules before, could've easily snuck away to contact you. Truth is, by the time I could, I had so much blood on my hands, I couldn't risk staining you. Every day since I've hated myself for hurting you. I'm sorry."

The moments stretch out between them silently, until it's suffocating. When Q finally does break the silence, it's with a whisper. "I thought you died. I've committed treason several times over, hacking into government records just to find you. I didn't want to accept you were dead."

Q looks up at him for the first time, eyes wet. "I grieved you, James, and to find out that you've been alive this whole time--"

James moves closer, but Q holds his hand up to keep him at bay.

"-- and not only that, but to find out you've moved on." Q swallows thickly. "I know about Vesper, James. Do you know what it says in your file?"

He does.

"You almost retired for her. So I suppose I never mattered enough for you to give all this up."

James sighs, defeated. "What can I do to earn back your trust?"

"I don't know if you can." Q hugs himself tightly. "And if you could, this is not the way to do it. You can't just barge in here and ask for things to go back the way they were! This isn't something you can fix with an apology!"

"I know that. I'm not trying for a quick fix, Q, I'm in this for the long run. Whatever it takes, however long it takes, I want to earn your forgiveness, please."

The last word softens Q, the fight dissipating from his posture. "I'll think about it. For now, put what's left of your kit on the table and fuck off."

James nods once, taking the small leather case from his suit pocket and placing it on the desk. "Thank you, Q."

With that, he leaves.

Q opens the case to reveal a gun, radio and electronic lock pick, all fully intact. Despite his better judgment, his battered heart skips a beat.

[goroaix]

〘 'What did a spirit know about love?' Cyno wished he knew the exact answer but, apparently, it was more than him. 〙

Cyno x gn reader. No warnings

In Sumeru it is said that if one were to incur the General Mahamatra's wrath, then that day would be their very last. The rumours of his steadfast nature, unyeilding to the bribery of researchers, sages or crooks alike were things that were founded in reality and in exaggeration.

It was true that Cyno did not let the lofty desires of others to corrupt his own morality. There were countless times where he had to inflict judgement upon scholars who were on their last legs, who had resorted to commiting one of the six cardinal sins in their desperation to keep up with their academics. Cyno wouldn't say he was immune to their pleading, their begs to be pardoned, but he had grown accustomed to it and considered their circumstances.

However, the exaggeration came from the higher tier criminals. They were the ones that brought upon harsher punishment, one where the spirit within him would take control and do as it saw fit to those who dared to tamper with human life or explore beyond sensible means.

Nonetheless, what everyone got wrong about Cyno was the fact that this god - Hermanubis as it were - was quite the character when it wasn't using him as a vessel to channel justice and good.

It didn't speak to him unless Cyno had allowed full control, and even then the possession was short and used only for the most heinous of crimes, but it spoke to him nonetheless; often he wished it wouldn't.

The return to Sumeru City after days of endless, scorching heat was likened to that of a diamond underneath endless rubble, but that hardly meant his job was over. He had returned with only the henchmen of the criminal he had been tailing, and now he had gotten word that the leader had returned to do trade.

If all went well, then he would have them in custody by nightfall.

The plan was simple in its principle and execution. He would have someone pose as a potential client for the 'archon residue pills' before arresting them.

"They're the ARC capsules?" They said and Cyno found it rather impressive how easily they could win the favour of others, the trader not suspecting a thing as they produced a bag from their sidebag. "How many?"

The person he had entrusted with the task of deceit was someone he had gotten to know over the course of two years since Kaveh had introduced them as a friend of his. They were reliable, hardworking and Cyno trusted them above all to do the jobs he needed some assistance on.

"Enough for a horse."

"Alright." And, as they feigned reaching into their pocket to bring out the money, Cyno let the spirit take over.

The sensation was familiar, his consciousness intact but his body moving of its own accord with power surging through his veins and encapsulating him. Electro burnt at the tips of his fingers, crackling through the air as the offender was apprehended, thrown to the floor with the weight of a god and it's vessel at their back.

The Matra moved in swiftly, Cyno's grip easing while the handcuffs kept them in place. There was no second spared in securing and moving them and he would have left had it not been them that had helped him.

From the distance, they began to walk over - waving happily - and Cyno felt the irrational, irregular beat of his heart. There was nothing too extravagant about their clothing but it matched them perfectly, pairing with their skintone and complimenting it.

Now, he was not a person to deny the obvious and the 'obvious' right now was the fact that his friend, Kaveh's friend, was pleasing to the eyes. Their smile was always radient, ever present, and he felt his heart skip again once their lips curled up into a smile.

'Interesting.'

Cyno paused, concerned at hearing the deep timbre of justice incarnate reverberate through his head.

'Is everything alright?' he thought, the inscriptions still circling his arms, the spirit yet to relinquish control.

'Is that not the person you adore?'

'They are my friend, yes.'

'Do not try to keep up formalities with me. I can feel each beat of your heart and the speed of your pulse.'

'...Yes. I do have positive feelings for them.' There was no attempt made by him to hide. It would fail miserably regardless.

'Then what is keeping you from admitting your feelings? I know you are swayed by the sight of them.'

Was he getting lectured about love by a god?

He tried to think of a reply, only to fall flat at anything that was more complicated than a simple 'it's not as easy as you make it out to be' that had the spirit laughing.

Laughing...

What was this coming to? The thing that had caused him so much pain in his formative years, hours of agony as his body tried to adjust to the presence of something that radiated power beyond his imagination and comprehension, was laughing at his love life.

'Boy, you are most entertaining. No matter how well versed you are in judging others, it seems none of this talent has transferred to any romantic capability.'

'Is this your area of expertise?' What business did it have judging him?

'It need not be. Any creature with a sense of self would chase after a thing they deemed worthy. Perhaps I should take control,' it mused and Cyno panicked. He couldn't imagine that they would enjoy the sight of his possessed self stalking towards them and he would prefer not to put them through that.

'That won't be necessary. I'll do it myself within the week.'

'Hm. I'll see to it that you do.'

The connection was cut and Cyno pushed his hair away from his forehead, catching sight of the topic of conversation coming towards him - concern in their eyes.

"General Cyno, did everything go as it should?"

Perhaps it was the jitters that made him nod, mouth refusing to move as he looked around for any sort of escape. If he said anything in this moment then he would only serve to embarrass himself.

"Cyno?" They tried again and red eyes glossed over them, taking in every detail that made them someone he revered. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said, fingers curled around his staff before he inhaled, air filling his lungs to max capacity. Their name rolled over his tongue before he verbalised it, and their pretty eyes connected with his.

"Yes?"

"Would you be able to meet me tomorrow at the Puspa Café? I have something that needs to be told to you in private."

Curiosity brimmed within them while nervousness filled him. "Good or bad?"

"That is your decision to make."

"I see. Then I will meet you for lunch?"

"Yes."

There was no time wasted as he turned around and left, his footsteps hasty as he groaned to himself.

'See that, boy? It was not difficult.'

All he could do was press his hands over his ears. He didn't need to hear anything else.

[fma03envy]

Junko and Izuru are fun because their subtext never really gets addressed, but at the same time there are multiple subplots that would make 0 sense unless one assumes that they valued each other

Like, what reason did Junko have to keep Izuru around in the first place and involve him in any of her plans, other than enjoying his company? To participate in the student council massacre? He was primarily a spectator there. Nothing about how that incident was portrayed implied it would've ended differently if Junko had only brought Mukuro for muscle. As a red herring to divert attention from her during the aftermath (in dr0)? She was already avoiding suspicion through blackmailing Juzo and getting her memory wiped (not to imply this was her main motive for the latter -it wasn't- but nonetheless it sure would have made her harder to question). Her apocalypse plans? She carried those out mainly using Ryota's mind control, not Izuru's talent. As a precaution to make sure he wouldn't try to actively oppose her? Junko already knew a ton about Izuru when they first met. She knew someone as apathetic as him would have no intrinsic motivation to meddle unless Hope's Peak were to weaponize him. In which case, simply trying to prevent the school from contacting him would be more straightforward, and would cause more despair (illusion of autonomy etc). Saving her from Nagito that one time? That wasn't particularly despair inducing for anyone; she wouldn't have sought him out for such an inconsequential payoff. Bringing her AI into the Neo World Program? All her other loyal remnants were also coming along, as far as we know she could have just as easily gone with one of them. As a really, really long scheme to psychologically devastate Hajime at the end of dr2? We know from Junko's internal monologue at the end of dr0 (which was over a month after The Incident) that she hadn't planned as far as dr2 yet. And even in dr2, the killing game was hardly set up as though Junko's satisfaction hinged on Hajime specifically. (He was the one talentless participant in a killing game where Junko concealed Izuru's true identity until the last moment. It would have been so easy for him to die before the reveal).

Junko is never shown to have made Izuru an essential component in any of her plans for despair. And then as for Izuru himself, it's like.

Why would Izuru choose to go with Junko into the simulation, if he didn't have faith that she would make it interesting for him? Future Foundation forced him to go against his will? He's like Ultimate Everything there's no way they'd actually beat him in any sort of confrontation. Junko forced him? Same answer. Junko didn't tell him that it was a killing game, and he legitimately thought he was going to some remnant rehabilitation therapy thing? He wouldn't go to therapy; boring. Also he knew that Junko was coming along, there's no way an Ultimate Analyst couldn't connect those kind of obvious dots. He thought he'd get to participate in the killing game as himself, not as Hajime? That would still imply trust in Junko to protect him from boredom, but also on the boat he tells Nagito that he won't be able to participate in the upcoming events, so he definitely knew. He wanted revenge on Junko for being evil and/or using him for her plans? As previously mentioned he wasn't even particularly useful for her plans, and he never acted like he had any problem with her being evil. (Sure he cried about Chiaki, but was too emotionally repressed to understand why. He instead concluded that to emotionally influence him, hope too must have some entropic potential for amusement. This was why he left Junko, not because he took moral issue with her actions. For reference: his last convo with her in dr3). Also she's on a hard drive in his pocket. If he did want revenge, he could've just stomped on it or something. (...and if she was backed up somewhere? Then trapping her in the simulation wouldn't have worked in the first place).

Izuru coming into the NWP and bringing Junko, a plot point upon which the entire premise of sdr2 is built, would only make sense if he to some degree trusted in her.

[floorbe]

Hi there!! Could I have a s/o who’s trying to get Mondo, Kazuichi, and Gundham to dance with them?

yes!!

~

Mondo Oowada

-Mondo will absolutely break it down with you if he’s in the right mood. He has to be in a playful mood

-If not, he’ll do that classic “guy at prom who doesn’t want to be at prom” move where he has his hands in his pockets and sways from side to side

-Mondo is a skilled dancer when it comes to freestyling. He’s won many dance competitions with a stone faced glare, but only really commits when provoked

-He won’t ever bring it his wins unless he’s in a particularly cocky mood, though

-Slow dancing, however? It’ll take a lot more to convince him unless he’s feeling flirty

-He stumbles over his feet a little bit and tries to use it as an excuse to not dance anymore

-Once he relaxes, he’s really smooth with it. He’ll guide you around the room easily and hum quietly

-If he’s feeling playful, he’ll do lifts and dips with you, listening to you laugh with a big grin on his face

-If more romantic, he’ll just lay his head on your head/shoulder and let you two sway quietly. He’ll keep you close even after the song ends. It’s one of the more rare quiet intimate moments you’ll get with him

Gundham Tanaka

-The hardest to convince. Gundham is decent at freestyling and actually an amazing slow dancer, but he’s shy to show it off

-It’ll take a while and a lot of bribes to convince him to dance with you, and if it’s a slow dance, he’ll avoid your eyes at first

-He stumbles a bit until he relaxes more into you. Eventually he gets lost in the music and leads you around effortlessly

-He won’t even notice how softly he’s gazing at you unless you point it out

-If you listen closely, you’ll hear him humming along to the song

-As he gains more confidence, he even gets a bit flirty! You’ll find him dipping you down with his classic Gundham smirk in place

-He’ll laugh if you visibly get flustered, taking it as an opportunity to spin you around more

-When he’s comfortable with you, he likes having you very close to him during these dances

-He’s a lot more open to dancing with you after this one, but he’ll rarely ever initiate

Kazuichi Souda

-Probably the easiest to convince to dance with you!

-Kazuichi loves being cheesy with his s/o, and dancing with you is so romantic in his eyes

-Of course, he dances absolutely awfully, but still

-And by awfully... he tries to break it down and ends up tripping on his shoelace or something

-He blushes if you laugh at him, but it ends up with him pulling you down with him

-He loves having fun with his s/o. He’ll tease you as long as you tease him back about your guys’ dancing

-Slow dancing takes a bit more convincing, but he’s willing if you give him puppy dog eyes

-He’s very tense during until he gets the hang of it. He’ll lean into you and spin you around a bit

-He may even attempt a dip, but it’ll be very shaky and may end with both of you falling

-When the song ends, he insists on playing another while tugging you back into his embrace, a blush bright on his face

[pinesfamilyguidetotheweird]

Fragmented AU -- The Cipher Zodiac Powers

Another thing that I was debating on to reveal, but I've decided to do so.

Proceed if you dare!!!

So, in Journal 3, Soos theorized that if they were successful in sealing/banishing/destroying Bill with the magic circle thing, they were all gonna get superpowers. A theory that Dipper didn't think was gonna happen.

Well, maybe not in Dimension 46'\.

But was made possible in Dimension 46-Delta, the version that the Fragmented AU takes place.

Perhaps due to a disturbance in the multiverse, the Cipher Ten was born with powers or would usually start to appear at around 13 years old. Whenever they use their powers, their eyes would glow a color. While they would share some specific ability, each of them have a unique power.

(I am using terms from the Superpower Wiki; one of my favs)

/////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Dipper -- Cyan -- Personal Energy

For any My Hero Academia fans, it's sorta similar to One for All in that a powerful energy generates and flows throughout Dipper's body. And I make the comparison because, in a way, Dipper reminds me of Izuku (nerdy characters, bullied, penchan for journaling, kinda talks out loud, deep idolization of their respective mentors...etc)

Mabel -- Magenta -- Imagination Manifestation

Couldn't think of any power better than this for a dreamer like Mabel. Now, granted, I was a little hesitant on giving Mabel this ability as it can easily be OP *Cough*GremmyfromBleach*Cough* coughing...However, I hopefully manage to come up with a limit. It depends on the scale of her imagination as well as her attention span and where she is.

(Note: Neither's powers manifested until the week of their 13th birthday.)

Stan -- Yellow -- Fire Generation/Manipulation

...I'm sure someone might make a connection of sorts. Also, blame @factual-fantasy for this (I love their AUs). Some back story time: as mentioned, some powers come around at birth, but for the Pines twins (both generations), theirs come later near the age of 13. So, Stan's powers manifested one day and he was surprised that the fire didn't really burn anything unless he willed it to. He wanted to show Ford, but decided to keep it a secret because...well he didn't want the bullying to get worse for both of them. It wouldn't be until later in life that Stan will show Ford, who has become aware of people with superpowers (ie, Fiddleford). Ford reacted... Well, Ford reacted in a way that Stan didn't expect and decided to not show it to him again. Interestingly enough, Ford had forgotten all about it, but Stan still remembers and refuses to let Ford see it again. He has a similar resolve to the kids due to what happened to their parents.

Ford -- Crimson -- ??? (Unknown)

As far as anyone is concerned, Ford hasn't shown signs of having any unique powers. Stan is curious, but figures that his high IQ is the power. Is that the case, or is it that he just doesn't have one? Or it just hasn't manifested yet, even into adulthood? Or maybe its because I have yet to make up my mind about what I want to give him? Who knows! lol

Soos -- Spring Green -- Stomach Storage

Only in the realm of cartoon logic would this make sense. Basically, Soos has access to a pocket dimension where he can store things via swallowing them whole and not chew it. Because if he does, it'll just go straight to his actual stomach. And while Soos is generally unbothered by it, the others took time to get used to it. And even then, it was still mildly unnerving to witness.

Wendy -- Amber -- Ice Generation/Manipulation

I originally wanted to give her something like super strength, but then I figured that it could just be a Corduroy trait. So, I gave her ice powers. There was a scrapped episode of Wendy getting weather-based powers and I am so curious as to what that would've entailed. Like, what was the story gonna be? How did she acquire that power? Would the episode reveal something about her mother?

Fiddleford -- Green -- Scanning

Whenever I get stumped on giving a character a power, I just take inspiration from their zodiac symbol. So, for Fidds, I just picked an ability called Scanning. He's like a human USB or 'data' storage of anything he sees, analyzing the data and information of anything not just technological and digital, but also biological, chemical and all that. He can also scan vitals (sort of like Baymax), which is proven to be useful when you have a friend who has a tendency to ignore his biological limitations.

(Note: I will say that both Fiddleford and Stan kept their powers a secret throughout their childhood and young adulthood, as one can imagine that once the word of their powers gets to the wrong person...well...things could've gotten bad for them.)

Pacifica -- Violet -- Animal Empathy

Another instance of me taking inspiration from the zodiac symbol. Not necessarily a Dr. Dolittle kind of thing, as she can't communicate directly with animals, but she can understand the animal's emotions and intentions. The same is said the other way around.

Robbie -- Gray/Silver -- Symphokinesis

I have seen four anime where singing/music is used in combat, Symphogear, Macross Frontier, One Piece, and Cross Ange, and I love it. I love music in general. So, Robbie can use this power via his own singing voice and guitar playing. Plus, he can expand the effect if he harmonizes with others through music. The effects and intensity of his powers usually lie in his intentions and emotions. After all, some say music speaks from the soul. From the heart.

Gideon -- Azure -- Telekinesis and Telepathy

Because why not? At least I didn't have to think too hard on what power to give the little menace. I'd imagine that with the amulet, he had very little limitations to what he can do with his telekinesis. But, since now it is his own power, it's very limited to what his mind can handle, which is surprisingly strong for a 10/11 year old. Remember: He's still a kid with kid-level emotions. Now, he can't read every mind and thought. Some mental walls are stronger than others and his telepathy usually works better on trusting/gullible/innocent people. Of course, it doesn't work on Ford for obvious reasons.

[abellaheart-blog]

Very specific request but can I rq the bucci gang with and s/o that's a bit....Scary. like if you're familiar with kayako from the grudge and sadako from the ring, that's the type of scary I'm talking about. It's not much help either that they do stuff that can be considered "odd", for example they casually chill under tables, beds, and in "odd and scary places", they crawl in vents, they pop up out of nowhere when you're not paying attention for like 3 seconds, they casually drop information that ranges from cryptic to "bone chilling" and "nightmare inducing" and "how the hell do you know that", they're into stuff like the occult, the supernatural, urban legends in general stuff that falls under that umbrella. Basically if you're familiar with the "creepy, cursed girl" character type that you see in supernatural horror movies and dark comedy, that's who s/o Basically is. Sometimes just being in rooms with them can make some people scared because they just have THAT aura and vibe. The kicker is that they're extremely oblivious to how scary they are, they could scare the shit out of someone, the person they scared would be screaming their head off and s/o would be like "???". Again very specific request but thanks ❣️❣️

Author Note: As a huge horror movie fan I enjoy this request very much! I didn't make these as long since I had to cover so much but I hope you like what I wrote. I also kept thinking of Umehito Nekozawa from Ouran High School Host Club which I thought was great. He’s a cool character. Hope I delivered with your request.

Bucci gang x Scary Significant Other

Narancia Ghirga

He gets jumped scared easily so this dynamic is going to be a funny one. He’s going to be screaming, gasping, or jumping but afterwards he’ll always be happy to see you!

Your appearance doesn’t scare him he loves you for your personality. He thinks you’re perfect the way you are.

When you hide in various places like under furniture or random places he’s going to be looking for you half the time. If you’ve seen Phineas and Ferb they’re constantly looking for their pet platypus Perry. He’s going to have an, “Where’s Perry?” moment but with you instead. It happens every time too! “Where’s my tesorina/tesoro?” It’s going to be exactly like the time he thought he lost his pocket knife. He’s so confused and looking everywhere but you’re somehow outside his reach.

Since he’s so distracted you’re able to get the jump on him when you pop out of nowhere. When you give him cryptic information he’ll be a bit confused as to what you’re saying but once he understands he’ll get a bit nervous and protective of you. If you spill information about him that he thought you wouldn’t know he’s going to think it’s cute you always keep your eyes on him. He’s a clingy boy so he’ll find it super adorable. He loves a clingy partner! He wants a hug now.

When you jump scare him he’ll make this face every single time 👇

When you get confused as to why he’s scared and ask him said question he’s going to tell you, “I’ve been looking for you!” Every single time

His friends and mafioso around him can get startled or scared of you. However when the mafioso are his opponents it works in his favor because none of them want to be around you. They’re way too terrified unless they’re fearless.

Guido Mista

Mista also gets jump scared. It can also be 50/50 at times too. Sometimes he’ll get jump scared, sometimes he won’t since he sees it coming due to being in a relationship with you. He’s also used to you crawling so it doesn’t bother him.

He isn’t bothered by your appearance the only thing that bugs him about it is every time he wants a kiss he has to move your long hair out of your face. Sometimes he’ll get your hair on his cashmere sweater so he’s often pulling them out of his clothing. They’re minor annoyances but he’ll ignore it since he loves you more.

He’s loving the dress it’s easy access for him to grab your thighs, legs, and butt. He’s going to use it to his advantage so you better tell him to behave especially when you’re crawling. He might even use his pistol to lift up that dress to sneak a peek. Doesn’t matter to him if you notice or not.

Mista likes when you breath down his neck or randomly touch his shoulder from behind. It’s a nice surprise and he’ll give you his trademark smile.

When you’re crawling or “hiding” in different places Mista doesn’t think much of it. He’ll let you do your thing. When you do manage to scare him he’ll cuss in Italian, mafioso style. If he’s polishing his gun sometimes he’ll accidentally shoot it which isn’t a pretty sight. Be sure to drag him away from the ricocheting bullet.

It’s often a scary scene to other people because it’s similar to victims in horror movies getting dragged away on the floor. Mista is confused or busy worrying about the bullet you’re both avoiding.

Cryptic information you give him will make him gulp. He’s going to get very nervous especially if it involves the number four. He’s going to get clingy and begging you to elaborate on what you meant. If you give him an, "how the hell do you know that" information he’s also getting sweaty. He’s only nervous because he doesn’t want you knowing about the magazines he keeps. 

He won’t care that you’re into the occult, the supernatural, or urban legends. He’s interested in hearing about them but he can get scared since he’s superstitious. The stuff you tell that he’s interested in, will lead to some fun conversations.

People around Mista are very afraid of you. You tend to make peoples skin crawl but Mista doesn’t notice. The ones who do are his friends and his stand. Sex Pistols love you but half of them easily get jump scared by you leading to fights between them because they sometimes drop their food when it happens. 

Panacotta Fugo

Fugo doesn’t get jump scared by you. It’s not easy jump scaring him. The only time you manage to scare him is from some of your cryptic messages or other types of scary words leaving your mouth. Even then you don’t always scare him.

Your appearance doesn’t bother him one bit. He’ll blush when he see’s your eyes or your smile since he doesn’t get to see them often. He likes to play with your long hair while he’s reading. When he finds you a dress/or outfit that would suit your look he’ll buy it for you. Especially if it’s second hand like from a yard sale or thrift store since it will look aged. He’ll politely tell you to put chap stick on if your lips are chapped so he’s doing you a favor by buying you vaseline for them and applying it for you which ultimately leads to you two kissing.

Your crawling or “hiding” don’t bother him. He likes it because he tends to read a lot or enjoy coffee/tea by himself quietly. A peaceful atmosphere relaxes him. 

When you crawl towards him backwards he gets worried you’ll trip but you always reassure him you never fall. He won’t allow you to do so on stairs no matter what so it’s best to do it when he’s not looking unless you want him to lecture you about all the probable outcomes or how likely you’re able to injure yourself. He’ll even give numbers of the amount of injuries or deaths of people falling down stairs.

You rarely jump scare him but when you do it’s because he’s focused on a conversation, cooking, or discussing a mission. Anything outside of those three won’t lead to you scaring him.

He’ll like that you’re into stuff like the occult, the supernatural, and urban legends. He’ll like to hear about it all since its a topic he doesn’t he doesn’t know too much about. He will know a bit but not a lot. This will lead to tons of conversations that last for hours. He’ll do research so he can impress you.

Those around him think you’re creepy or scary so they tend to stay away. His friends think you’re a bit creepy but they’re all mafioso so they can handle it though Mista and Narancia have high pitched screams to which Fugo or the others tease them for.

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno doesn’t get scared of you at all. He’s grown up in the mafia so he’s seen worse in his line of work. His partner isn’t going to scare him even someone such as yourself. He see’s the beauty in everyone.

When you appear out of no where or are crawling and hiding he’ll let you do as you please. He’ll simply say, “Ciao amore”. Its always a welcomed greeting from him.

Sometimes he’ll give you braids similar to his own. He enjoys your long hair and will often pull your hair out of your face to surprise you with kisses.

He won’t mind that you’re into the occult, the supernatural, and urban legends. Whatever you love he’ll support. Since you’re into all that stuff he’ll often take you to the movies to see a horror film. He also likes to surprise you with at home dates filled with horror movies.

Your cryptic messages and such don’t scare him either. He’ll be interested and simply indulge you with conversation about it.

You might creep out others or scare unsuspecting mafioso but it works in Bruno’s favor. His friends will get a bit creeped out but they’ll suck it up for their dear friend/capo Bruno.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno doesn’t get easily scared by you. You won’t be scaring him often, maybe 20% of the time? He’ll only get jump scared by you in rare occasions. 

Only a couple of times your bone chilling words got to him but it was because they reminded him of the past abuse he’s been through or perhaps his painful loneliness. If you do manage to jump scare him it’s while he’s in the bathroom working on his skincare, hair, etc. You catch him off guard because he’s so focused and doesn’t see it coming

He doesn’t mind your appearance but he will get concerned by your skincare and he’s always making sure you wear sunscreen. He also always has chapstick in his pocket for you. He’s always sure to buy you the best products. 

Giorno likes shopping for you because your fashion is unlike anyone else’s. He likes the challenge. He also likes buying you books on the type of stuff y+uou enjoy.

He will enjoy braiding your hair and brushing it. He hopes you do as well.

Your crawling, hiding, etc doesn’t bother him. You won’t be jump scaring him like that. Ever. He’ll greet you normally or simply give you a smile.

He’ll like that you’re into the occult, the supernatural, and urban legends. Giorno likes hearing about it all because it’s not a topic he often hears about so its all new to him. He’ll support it and often buy you items involved with them.

When you do manage to scare him it’s while he’s in front of the bathroom mirror. He’ll gasp and jump a bit with wide eyes. He’ll turn to you then sigh, “Amore, you startled me.” He’ll lightly chuckle and give you a smile.

You’ll scare those all around Giorno. Enemies, mafioso, and some of his friends. Only a bit of his friends aren’t afraid of you.

Leone Abbacchio

He doesn’t get scared of you at all. Not even once. He likes that you scare and creep out others. It amuses him since he doesn’t like people. He also thinks its cute you don’t realize you scare others.

Abbacchio is a fan of horror movies so he’s loving your look. He often compliments you. He admires your outfits and hair the most. Abbacchio will also like going shopping with you.

He thinks it’s amusing you crawl and “hide” in several places. He’ll simply smile at you when you appear out of no where.

Abbacchio will laugh his ass off when you scare other people.

You cryptic messages, nightmare inducing words, and such interest him and he’ll have light conversation with you about it.

He’ll love that you’re into the occult, the supernatural, and urban legends. It will be a common interest of the both of you. You two will always spend hours talking about them.

When you scare his friends he’ll make fun of them and laugh especially if they have high pitched screams. If you scare Giorno you automatically receive brownie points. He’s going to love roasting Giorno after. Later on Abbacchio is taking you to an abandoned place for a date since he knows you enjoy it so much.

All in all you’re both perfect for each other.

[hllywdwhre]

Peaky Blinders OC

Finally writing up and posting all of my OC’s from different fandoms. Most of them are self-inserts but🤷🏻‍♀️

Will not always be canon-compliant

Saoirse O’Clery descended from one of the oldest families in Ireland, and was born on May 10, 1895 to Amadáin and Daimhin O’Clery in Clonakilty. Her father had always been a forward thinking man and raised Saoirse to eventually take over the gang his father had made, the Sons of Dawn, when he passed. Her parents made sure she attended the best schools and even made sure she received a college education, though due to who she was and the state of women’s education in 1918, it came in the form of private tutors.

In 1920, the Sons of Dawn are the largest gang in Ireland, as notorious as the IRA, but with less attention on them as they are able to “hide” behind the IRA and their crimes. The Sons of Dawn mainly keep to themselves. They were formed after Amadáín’s father and his friends had turned to doing anything possible to keep their friends and families alive during the Great Hunger. After it was over, their main mission turned towards helping women and children escape unsafe conditions.

Due to the nature of their main mission, women were often employed by the Sons since they were less conspicuous and more trustworthy. A woman being hurt would tell a woman working for the Sons, and the men of the Sons would do whatever was necessary to help the woman and child(ren) escape. Once the abusive man was taken care of, whether he lived or not, a branded “D” could be found on his hand and a message could be found written on the walls of the building.

“Dawn has come.”

It was a calling card to what he had done and that the sun had finally shone upon whoever he had hurt.

In 1924, shortly after Vicente’s death, Angel Changretta kills Amadáín and Daimhin, believing that the Sons of Dawn’s loyalty won’t stay with Saoirse as she’s a woman, and that he and Luca will be able to easily take on the Peaky Blinders with them behind him. When they refuse to listen to him and swear their loyalty to Saoirse, he forces her to marry him and tell them that he’s the leader now. Behind his back, Saoirse and her most trusted men work against the Changretta’s. In a desperate attempt to free Saoirse, in 1925, they are able to sneak her out of the country where she begins traveling to Small Heath.

She knows of how Grace was killed and knows the Peaky Blinders are her best chance at partnering against the Changretta’s. She arranged to meet with Tommy alone at The Garrison. Though reluctant at first, after Saoirse places the bullet with ‘Changretta’ carved into it, Tommy accepts her offer of partnership.

Personality Type: INTJ

Zodiac: Taurus

Temperament: Quick to anger, but slow to act on the anger unless the situation calls for something different

Intelligence: Average book smarts and extremely street smart

Skills (non-violent): Dancing, sewing, and horseback riding

Morals: Extremely strong moral code. Believes in racial and sexual equality and the freedom of Ireland as one united nation.

Phobias: Spiders and, after a bad encounter with one, cows

Bad Habits: Picks at her nails

Secret Weapon: At 5’1 and with a small frame, no one expects the innocent looking, red-headed, green eyed woman to be able to do too much. She’s vastly underestimated by those that don’t know her, and while it was annoying when she was younger, she now uses it to her advantage. She could bat her eyes and flirt with the devil whilst picking his pockets and he would be none the wiser.

Physical Strengths: Can clean any gun with a speed that rivals soldiers, always hits her target, and riding on horseback does not mean her aim will be less accurate. When involved with hand-to-hand, she uses her small frame to help her and, while she won’t win the fight, she can hold her own until help arrives or she’s able to escape.

Physical Weaknesses: That incident with the cow? Her right knee is done for. Don’t ask her what happened, she won’t tell you.

Languages: English, Irish, and French. After the plan to send her to Small Heath was made, she began learning Romani, but she’s nowhere near fluent in it.

How She Speaks: Irish is her first language and even other native speakers have to ask her to slow down if she’s mad or excited. She stumbles over Romani due to only knowing a bit of it, but her English and French are strong.

[yanban-san]

For the demon AU, is Ingo getting sent to Hisui like an accidental exorcism?

Not sure, but I do like the potential for Eldritch antics in the Coronet Highlands-

More antics under the cut:

This isn’t a time or place where their darling is, and he’s only interested in getting back to Unova- Back to Nimbasa, back to his beloved brother and his precious darling. They may be idiots when they’re experiencing Darling-Induced Brain Rot, but when they are dealing with anything getting between them and experiencing Darling-Induced Brain Rot, they become quite malicious and threatening. Though, they do take the attitude that humans are just silly little creatures that don’t understand what they’re doing, and Ingo would try to give any humans interfering with them a second chance, so to speak; He’d prefer to erase their memories or alter the world to make it so people aren’t aware of him and his brother’s true natures.

Also Galaxy Team and the Clans having reports of a horrific monster lurking in the shadows of the highlands- Sometimes looking vaguely humanoid, other times incomprehensible- Would be fun to play around with.

The other thing is, they’re immortal so even if Ingo got sent to ancient Hisui, he could just wait if he had to, to end up back in the future. Granted, he would be pissed when he “gets back,” unless Hisui was in another universe entirely, in which case Emmet could just summon him again- Their darling isn’t the only one who can summon them.

I can imagine a scene where Shauntal tries to banish Ingo and goes “phew, that worked-” And then Ingo just manifests from the ceiling, absolutely furious and not hiding his monstrous characteristics anymore because he’s had to wait some 400 human years or something to get back here-

Or a possible scene where Shauntal banishes Ingo, and Emmet is entirely nonplussed, pulling out a train watch from his pocket and checking it for a few moments, while Shauntal is wondering what he’s doing- Only for Dialga and/or Palkia to burst into the room a second later looking absolutely terrified of the demon riding one of them who looks far more intimidating than they could ever hope to be.

And of course, attempting to banish either of them is going to piss off both of them royally- and especially the one left. If you manage to send both away, well, they’re incredibly powerful and both of them together could easily claw their way back into reality. I imagine part of their summoning would also give them a tie to their darling, so they can hone in on them wherever they are.

Now as for who is doing the banishing- That would cause some interesting scenarios. If their darling tried to banish them, oh, they’re going full yandere. If it’s something to do with Elesa and Skyla’s investigation into Emmet’s sus behavior, then Ingo is throttling Emmet behind the scenes while he tries to fix everything before either the gym leaders find out about Darling or Darling finds out that they’re inhuman monsters. If someone banishes them correctly- Probably with some invocation to Arceus to fix the loophole they were exploiting to enter reality, they are going to be furious in a whole new manner- And probably try to fist-fight Arceus, which may or may not go well.

Or, to keep in line with the mildly comedic nature of these guys, they start pestering Arceus with their Two Brain Cells and their Darling-Obsessed Brain Rot, until Arceus relents and just goes Holy Me Fine Just get Out of my Sight You Damned Arcane Eldritch Bastards-

Person who banished Ingo and Emmet: Finally, now the world will go back to normal-

Ingo and Emmet: Surprise Bitches

Person who banished Ingo and Emmet: What the hell Arceus repaired the laws you guys distorted with the fabric of reality how did you get back here?!

Ingo: Gods are not immune to the power of supernatural  t e n a c i t y

Emmet: And sheer annoyance

Ingo: Yea that too

[kichimiangra]

We've seen that Spike can arbitrate between the Piposaru and Specter to address their dissatisfaction issues; would the other protagonists and Morgan help improve the quality of life on Saru Station if they came on board, and would Specter pretend that was his plan and not scooping all the meaningful humans in his life into one big pile to bury himself within?

All of the other protagonists have proven that they are all compassionate people towards the plight of others. In fact if not for the mischief the piposaru get into so frequently the protags would probably be more open to the idea of hearing them out. (AU where instead of trying to change times they just escape the park and any human that comes across them gets a sob story about their sentience and shit.) I think even if they were getting up to mischief Jimmy would be willing to help improve their quality of life because he is a sweet pea. Kei and Yumi are compassionate to others but mouthy enough to call out what the issues are. Natalie can be easily reasoned with with the right logic and isn't favorable to cruelty to animals or unneeded discomfort (At the end of AE3 She can be seen with Specter picking fruit so clearly she at least doesn't hold a grudge with him unless they're bickering like siblings like in Piposaru 2001). Jake might be the only hold out, but is also a kind person, can understand the apes on a more literal level so there's no guess work, and in reality when under SPecter's control he had basically been doing the same organizational work as the whole of the Ukki 5 because unsurprisingly he could be an efficient business manager if he wanted to be... If he could just get over his thing with the apes. (I had imagined a scenario where both Spike, Specter, the ukki 5, and a large number of piposaru get sick and are down for the count and team protag, including Jake, are basically begged by Spike to come up and help them just keep things afloat until whatever flu is sweeping through the station subsides, and Jake has to put aside his issues for a few days because as much as the rest of team protag are willing to help they are an unorganized mess)

Trainer Morgan would of course be willing to help... infact Morgan could get away with more than Spike can even after being in a realtionship with Specter because Specter at least respects his human daddy and doesn't want to disappoint him so would take his advice to heart, while Morgan is trained to work with primates and even without Ukki in his dictionary he'd quickly start discerning things like unhappy work conditions, apes being placed in ill fitting positions, etc.

Spike and Specter collection 2

The only game the Specter coins show up in is AE1 so I can't help but thinks Specter was starting up his own currency to get a head start on capitalism. I can't think of a good in-universe reason to collect them though, cuz all they're good for in the game are unlocking some minigames on the time station, so I've only used them in reference as a mocking thing like "Good job here's a few nickles I had in my pocket".

Specter being Jealous of himself is a plot point lol.

Spike loves them until he doesn't.

The Piposaru end up all agreeing that they like Specter better with Spike around than without, when Specter and Spike get into a fight or argument they pool together to try and manipulate the two into making amends or being amicable with each other to various degrees of shenanigans.

They had a lovely evening in spite of the raw confusion for what the Piposaru are doing.

Circus!Specter lives kinda somewhere in the middle there. Unlike Pipotchi he doesn't have enough brain cells to really "Act" much, he's just kinda like this. That said, much like a dog or a small child he is aware enough that looking sad and pathetic can sometimes get him off the hook so if it was Circus!Specter around his usual enemies and they are seemingly mad at him he might play up that aspect of himself. There is enough overlap between the two that in a boss battle situation where somewhere mid game Specter lost his helmet Circus!Specter would still meet the protags in combat, but it would be a lot of attention seeking, random button pushing, and less PK. He'd still be like "I'm gonna win!" but instead of "Hehe Pathetic humans I shall defeat you and prove ape superiority" It's more like "I AM GOING TO WIN AND GET MORE ATTENTION HUHUHUHU!!!!" and the best things the protqags can really do is ignore him.

He does have his moments of cleverness, as back in the Park he was hard to keep locked up and was a little escape artist (Thus how he got a hold of the helmet so easily) showing he can be devious enough to see a button combo on a key pad and commit it to memory to unlock doors.

Most of the best drama with Specter comes from a Specter vs Relationship scenario, whether it's romantic, familial, companionship, leadership, etc. and how he handles that with his overblown ego and knowing full well that from the perspective of the 'other' in the relationship he is prone to dun doing a bad. Trainer Morgan tries to reason with the idea of why Specter would leave. The first time is one thing, but any time after that and now there's a pattern. He would be one of the first people to humanize and personify Specter because "There must be a reason he's like this...?" And because Morgan is so detached from the majority of Specter's origin he really only has the perspective of "He is leaving everytime he gets a helmet because he's not happy here." but as the almost sole caretaker to Specter of course he would reach the conclusion of "clearly I must be doing something wrong, making him unhappy, or am not meeting some specific need he has?" Meanwhile Specter is stuck in a loop of "Humans hate me for trying to usurp the world and I don't really care if they do, (Apes4Evar!) but I do care what specifically THAT human thinks of me because he's special and he is obviously going to be mad and ashamed of me because he is a human and JEEBUS I AM NOT EMOTIONALLY EQUIPPED TO BE ABLE TO FEEL GUILT OR SHAME HOW DO I FUCKING DO THIS?!..."

All involved with the Peak Point Project/Project Specter are kinda at a "Dissapointed/cutting their losses but happy to get SOMETHING out of it" zone. Specter did not fulfill any of the goals of the projects aside from the parks goal of "A pretty cool Monkey" which is contradicted every time he gets a helmet because he's ALMOST not worth the costs of doing business. The investors that acquired PipoSnake are happy with him as an individual soldier but the lack of consistent successful replication (like with Specter) makes the project a complete bust. (And despite seemingly having his shit together in reality Pipo Snake is one identity crisis away from a full fledged breakdown). Pipotchi doesn't have anxiety and was a shot in the dark success for the project, but he almost suffers from "Too much Humanity, not enough specialized help, not a human in a human society, etc." that leaves you wondering how responsible the project even is. So everyone is satisfied in that they got a consolation prize but the laundry list of each of these three apes issues really rubs the shine off. Like "Here's a free goldfish! Also, i has the Ick"

.

[worriedvision]

A bet (Part 3) - Dottore

Part 2 here. Gender neutral reader. Was intending on this just being kissing, but it went towards sucking his dick so whoopsie lol! Minors don’t read

--

"So this was what you got for that act of yours?" Dottore grumbles, examining the inside of the house.

"If it helps, my student debt-"

"What a horrible voice to fit such a disgusting face." Dottore stops you, locking the door and putting the key into his pocket.

Your face drops, realising that Dottore has you in his cage. Sure, you could try to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, jump out the window, and try to get away quietly. It was like Dottore read your mind.

"Don't try. I have ordered guards to stand outside." Dottore smirks deviously, walking towards you. "Now, what a predicament you are stuck in. Surely you know your sorry situation."

You stay silent, Dottore huffing out of frustration.

"You know, it's too late to stay silent. You aren't very good at interrogation, I was hoping to ease out your voice during this discussion but unfortunately, you made it easy." Dottore explains.

"Fine. What do you want?" You look away, Dottore's dominance suddenly starting to settle in.

"I shall give you a choice, I feel generous." Dottore sings. "You can either offer yourself up for experimentation, ultimately leading to your death."

"...Or?"

"Oh, you'll have to agree which option before I tell you that. Where would be the fun in telling you both options? The first option is usually the only one."

"...I'll take the second option."

Dottore smirks, slowly starting to back you towards your couch.

"You'll have to earn your life." He purrs.

"Oh? A kiss? Sure!" You peck him on the cheek, Dottore unimpressed.

"You'll have to do more than that. If you were brave enough to pull that stunt, you must have some value." Dottore tilts his head, sitting on the couch now.

"Well, your mask is in the way. I can't exactly get up into there without you taking it off.” You tease, knowing the risk you were at with every word. “Unless you are aware of how ugly you are.”

“You are playing a very dangerous game, you realise this?” Dottore growls, before deciding to take his mask off. In his mind, you weren’t going to please him well enough to not kill you. “There. Off you go, now.”

You place a hand on his cheek, hand shaking lightly as he gives you a devious look as you begin to close in on his lips. Upon making contact, he places a hand behind your head, locking you in place so you couldn’t easily back off. The taste of lingering blood enters your senses, and you’re somewhat disgusted by the man’s taste. He pulls you over, now having you straddling him as you reluctantly deepen the kiss. You feel him smirk into your lips, and you force yourself to keep kissing him, adding a little bit of tongue. Dottore places the hand that was behind your head onto your hip, soothing you in a way you refused to admit. You place your hands on his shoulders, the both of you continuing the session as you, finally, fully give in. You know there’s no other option for you, you know what this man is capable of. 

“You tell me I’m desperate and indesirable, however you don’t seem to be pulling away.” Dottore pulls away from your lips, chuckling when he finishes the first sentence. “Perhaps, deep down, you know you can’t get a more reasonable man than myself, hmm?” He raises a brow.

If he asked this before you started kissing him properly, you’d have retorted by telling him you knew he was inexperienced, and  a simple peck on the lips drove him mad. Unfortunately, you were past this stage, so you do the only thing you can to save face.

You pull in again, Dottore’s laughing muffled by your lips colliding when you made contact once again. Your body seems to feel differently from the logical side of you, as you started to grind on Dottore as you kissed him without realising it. 

“As much as I enjoy feeling the desperation in you kissing me, I don’t think this will be enough.” Dottore darkly hums out, your eyes widening as you start to mumble out some pathetic ‘please have mercy’. “On your knees.”

Your body, once again, acts before you can respond. Dottore wastes absolutely no time in pulling out his penis. You lean forward, lapping at his tip before you can think about your actions, and you can feel Dottore’s condescending smile as he watches you perform oral on him with the absolute fear of him killing you if he wasn’t happy with it. 

Your mouth closes around the tip, giving a few experimental sucks before you start to lower yourself as much as you can. A hand goes to touch the base of his penis, the other on the floor as you begin to work up and down Dottore’s length. 

“If you’re able to swallow, you get to live as my plaything. If you spit, or you’re unsuccessful in finishing me, however...” Dottore raises a brow, your eyes finally looking up at him. 

He was planning on edging himself so that you couldn’t get him finished, watching you scream as his agents drag you away against your will, but the downright sinful look in his eyes was enough to get him to finish quickly. He groans out, head falling back as he feels you swallow every last drop he spurted out. Finally beginning to pull up, you give his tip a few more sucks to ensure not a drop is wasted, and he looks down at you once again. Teary eyed, pleading for him to give you a rest, and he rubs your head.

“Well done.” Dottore praised, before getting up. “Follow me, and I will show you where you are to live from this point onwards.”

[jadespeedster17]

The Underground

Warning: Darkish themes, soul selling, mild body horror.

Pov: Second (You/Your)

Notes: Demon Ingo with some elements from The Labyrinth, pretty man haha. 

Summary: Making a wrong turn can lead one to a different place, but that doesn’t always mean it’s good. I suppose... lucky for you there is a demon who is willing to help, if you don’t mind the price.

-------

 Suppose the first sign could have been how empty things got, how dead and devoid of life it was. Walking down the many paths to the next area, wondering if you just missed your train. It was late, but oddly the clock never changed from midnight, and you had yet to meet anyone besides yourself. Though you did keep hearing sounds of something following you. 

Putting your hands in your pockets you felt a sense of unease creep up on your spine. You know for a fact you’ve been here for a while, so why hasn’t the time changed? Why haven’t you even seen a train yet? Something was wrong, but you couldn’t really pin point where or why it was. 

“You seem lost.” a voice said as you yelped out in fear and spun around to see someone, a person! His dead white eyes looked at you, mouth in a frown line as he stared at you. “This station hasn’t seen many as of late, but suppose you were lead here for a reason.”

Something about him seemed oddly familiar to you as you tilted your head at him like a lost puppy. “Uh... I guess I am a bit lost.” You admit to him, “You are you?” A pause at this before he tipped his hat, “Ingo.” he tells you simply before walking over you, “And I know you, I’ve been watching you since you came here.” Ingo stands beside you as you felt a cold chill run through you.

You opened your mouth to ask him what he meant by that, but Ingo continued on despite your growing discomfort. “The train doesn’t run here unless I allow it.” he explains casually eyes looking at the train tracks.

“Then can you please help me get out of here?’ You asked him back, despite how... human he looked, something about his well everything set your senses to fight of flight. You felt dread, yet also your feet were firmly planted in place.  His dead fish like gaze looked at your more alive eyes, “That requires you give something back.” he told you, pulling out of his pocket a small crystal ball, and playing with it. “A simple exchange really.”

You felt the dread creep up on your chest now, but you tried to not show it, “Seems a little unfair to me, to get trapped here against my will then be expected to pay to leave.” You commented.

Ingo laughed at that, for a moment you swear his frown moves down to his neck, leaving blood and ragged sharp teeth in it’s wake. But the image is gone as quick as you see it. But it doesn’t take the spike of fear, “Trust me, you didn’t get off here because you did nothing wrong. But in your case, you’re not near a bad as some who come here... a simple wrong turn at a station you could have left.” he tells you as he tosses up the ball and easily catches it.

“What are you talking about?” You asked scooting away from him, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as he looked at you, the shadow he casted behind him grew. You swore it had horns and loomed over the lights.

Ingo’s expression didn’t change, turning to you fully. “A summoning gone wrong is all, your friends certainly are paying the price, my dear brother took claim of their souls for his own cart.” he said this so casually as he looked you up and down, “But you are not greedy nor are you an envious person... no you were dragged into a summoning against your will, but still did it cling to you.”

Your entire body was dipped into ice after that, how did this man know of the armature séance you did? But the more you stared back at him, the more it made sense, and the fear rose at that as Ingo tsked. “No need for that, like I said, you simply took a wrong turn, though yes you paid for the price, I’m here to offer you a way out.” he held up the crystal ball now. “And exchange if you will.”

Gazing at the small ball, it looked very fragile but yet not at the same time. Ingo looked at you, his eyes almost seemed to glow. “ I can offer to you anything you wish for, a way out of here? Your dreams? Your wants? I can even help you where your lacking in your Pride.” his voice took on a darker tone at that, you look past the crystal and at him directly.

“What do I have to give in order to even have that?” you asked, intrigue now in your tone, wondering what could he possibly want from you? You didn’t have much to offer hence why you were always picked on and tossed around between the better off kids. It’s how you got yourself into the situation you did.

The frown twitched almost into a smile, “A contract, you’ll work for me here, your soul will be stationed here, mine. And in return you can have everything you could ever desired.” he told you, the words ran over you, sending fearful signals to tell you to deny it, find another way out. “I am an honest man despite my job, I’d never go back on my word like others of my kind would. Lying if for uncouth demons who have no integrity.”

Demons? You looked at the shadow that still had the horns as you swallowed at that, “And is that my only option?” you asked him.

Ingo shrugged at that pulling the crystal back, “The other is to be taken by my brother, you won’t be given a choice in what you do there. He might even just eat your soul making you into a husk that obeys orders.” he shrugged as you stared in horror at that. “It’s only due to you being at the wrong station that you even get a refund.” he explained and regarded you coolly, “if I was you, I’d take your options.”

Options were slim, your choices no better than the last, but... at least he gave you the illusion of choice. And frankly you’d not want your soul to be eaten because of a stupid mistake. Taking a breath you looked at Ingo, who showed sharp teeth a look of victory in his eyes, “Fine.” You say in a firm tone.

A grin now showed, despite how unnatural it look as he held out his hand, “then we have a deal.” he shook your hand as cold yet warm tingles ran up your arm and gripped at your very being. As Ingo let go a loud whistle as heard as the train pulled into station, you gap at that then looked at Ingo. 

His eyes had a near red look to them, “Climb aboard my newest passenger, we’ll find a spot perfect for you... and as promised, you’ll get everything you desire.” he told you as he tipped his hat and the door opened. There was the sound of people inside, as you swallowed hard.

Looks like there was no chance of backing out now as you got on the train and hoped things would work out.

“All passengers accounted for?’ ingo’s voice spoke all around you, “Then we are off, ALL ABOARD!” he yelled as you gripped the pole tightly when the train jolted into action and seemed to fly at unnatural speeds. 

You hoped you didn’t come to regret this.

[humanoidalien27]

Content warning: Salazar machinations and trust issues

.....

Chapter 3

Caught in a Trap

    "We need help," Anne said sitting harshly on the bed. "We can't have bullies coming after us too!"

"Anne, please breathe."

She glared at her brother, but took a breath. "Godric might be able to help us. Let's just explain it to him."

"Or he might be working with Salazar too."

She half slapped her leg in frustration. "Not everyone is going to betray you!"

"Not everyone is going to end up your friend either. Unless we can guarantee he wouldn't give Salazar the information we tell him, I can't just trust anyone who comes across our path that seems nice."

"You keep living in the past! Not trusting anyone will be your downfall!"

She looked like she regretted the words as soon as she said them.

Realizing both of you had gotten too emotional, you stood up to leave.

"Where are you going?" Ominis asked, his wand already lifting up to track your movements.

"I'm going for a walk."

"Wait-" Anne started, but you kept walking.

      You found the library, not as full as the one you knew, but you quickly realized the restricted section books were laying about freely.

Shaking your head, you moved to try finding something that tells you about something related to repositories, but it had less than the future library had.

"Looking for answers?"

You jumped, having been too focused on research to notice Salazar had gotten close.

"You're not going to find them here. Most of these books belong to Rowena and Helga. If you want to know how to control your magic, you need to look for someone who has it. In this case me."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He chuckled as you slipped the book you were holding back onto the shelf. "I know you saw the magic I took from that girl. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

He pulled his wand from his sleeve and pointed it at you.

"What? You want my magic?" You asked looking up at him. "Kill me afterwards?"

"People like us are rare as it is. To waste such a talent." He shook his head, taking a step closer. "I want to help you realize your talent."

He smiled as you remained quiet, just watching him, waiting for him to tell you the whole truth.

"Why don't you think about it? Though, I'm not a patient man, I won't wait forever."

He walked off with a nonchalant smirk, while you released the breath you'd been holding.

"He didn't take my magic? Why? I would have thought he'd want it."

"Why do you sound like you hoped he would?"

Jumping once again, you spun seeing Ominis behind you.

"You gave me a start."

His features remained neutral. "You're ignoring the topic."

"There's nothing to say."

"I believe there is. Since when do you not want to be magical?" He asked moving closer, his expression pinching in what you could almost mistake for fear.

"It's not that I don't, it's just... complicated."

"Is this because of all the attention it gets?"

Sighing, you sat down where you could see the whole library. "No, it's- after Rookwood, Harlow, Ranrok, sealing the repository and curing Anne, I thought I was done being the magical freak," you admitted getting his brows to bunch. "It's hard to explain. I just feel like...the more I find out about this magic, the more I use it, I lose a piece of myself. How long until I'm no longer me? How long until I'm just another Ranrok or Isadora?"

He reached into your pocket and pulled your dad's pocket watch out. "Remember what he said." He placed it in your palm and cupped your hand between his. "You have a choice."

"I'm not so sure anymore," you whispered, feeling his hands tighten.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm always going to be hunted for what I have. How long until I turn bitter? I'm already guarded and can't trust people easily."

He slid his hands carefully to the sides of your face. "Those who're guarded, have something valuable to protect. Something they know deserves to be treated with kindness and respect. Besides the people who want you just for magic, aren't worth worrying about. If you're that concerned about it, we can become two bitter people, scaring anyone trying to come up to our house because we want to be left alone."

Picturing it made you laugh as he pulled you against him.

"Sounds good to me."

He nodded before resting his head on yours. "Me too."

    "I think the two of you should take Godric up on his offer," you started getting them to look over in shock. "If I could get Salazar to let Ominis go, I'd ask him the same. Before you argue, Salazar is the type to torture you until I agree with becoming his student."

"Splitting us up isn't the answer," Sebastian replied turning to face you. "It just leaves you and Ominis vulnerable. We're staying."

"But-"

"I agree with Sebastian. I can't pretend that I don't see what would happen if we did follow that route."

Ominis leaned against the bed post beside you. "There is no guarantee that Godric wouldn't hurt them either."

Rubbing your forehead, you sighed softly. "I know. I just don't want to lose everything we've worked so hard for."

The twins instantly backed down from their defensive stance.

"Why don't you allow Salazar to teach you?"

All eyes snapped to Sebastian, half glaring, Ominis's brows pinched.

"Hear me out before you voice disagreement. We know that ancient magic brought us here and it's fair to assume it's the key to get home. The keepers taught you a lot through memories, but not all, right?" He waited for you to nod before pressing on. "Salazar can help get better control over your magic. Maybe you'll learn how to take us home."

"Don't put that kind of pressure on her shoulders," Ominis said sharply.

"There's no repositories we can use. Percival hasn't been born yet. We have to work with what we're presented, right?"

"That's not fair to ask," Anne whispered.

Seeing the merit of his point, it only clashed against your desire to stay away from Salazar.

"I'll decide tomorrow night. Until then, I'm going to check the grounds." You stood, nearly knocking into Ominis.

"Not alone," he called after you, making you look back at him. "Please not alone."

"Your animagus forms are hard to hide. I'm small enough to get places most can't. I'll be careful. I promise."

You left before he could say anything else.

   You moved through the dungeons, trying to see if you could still get into the repository's caverns, but Percival must have crafted it himself, because the door wasn't there.

You knew it was a long shot, but you still wanted to hold out hope for something, anything, that meant you didn't have to walk that already thin line between being good and going bad.

So, you headed back towards the common room, but before you could, you heard two people arguing.

As quietly as you could, you crept towards them.

"Why are you being so stubborn? They're children."

You peeked around the corner seeing Godric and Salazar. They obviously weren't wanting to be overheard. 

"Let's be honest here, we both know there's something about them that sets them apart from the rest."

Godric glared at him. "Leave them alone."

Salazar chuckled, his body language shifting to a lighter one. "I'm the only one who can teach the girl how to master her magic-"

"Master it? Don't pretend you actually care. You just want to see what she can do. See how powerful she is. Why? She's a child Salazar, don't push your expectations into her."

"The magic we have is most likely passed down from parent to child, Godric. Do you get what I'm saying?"

They glared at each other. "She's not your daughter."

Salazar chuckled, waving his hands around extravagantly. "It's believable, and all I have to do is get her to think she is."

"That's not going to happen. You can't keep getting away with this-"

Salazar snickered as if baiting him. "Getting away with- Godric, the whole school knows you're not strong enough to duel me, even together with Helga and Rowena. You can't stop me."

Salazar started to head towards you, making you wish you were in your animagus form. As you moved to cast the disillusionment charm, someone grabbed you from behind with a hand clamping over your mouth.

They pulled you further into the dark corner, putting their back to the hall.

"The hall is too quiet, they'll hear it if you cast a spell," Ominis whispered beside your ear.

You almost collapsed against him out of relief.

"I don't care how I do it Salazar, but I will find a way to stop you from corrupting that innocent child."

"No one is innocent Godric and she's hardly a child anymore. I will get what I want or I'll just take the magic for myself."

Ominis tensed as Salazar moved right beside the both of you, twisting himself to put his back to his ancestor.

He stopped as your heart started racing. "Godric, we've been friends for a long time, when have you ever known me to give up just because something's challenging?"

"This is different. This is someone else's life. Their future."

He huffed. "And yet, I keep making a point for us to accept only the purest wizards and witches into our school and you keep inviting those filthy half breeds."

Salazar walked off with that, getting Godric to sigh. "Closed minded fool."

Ominis let off your mouth when Godric's shoes faded. As you looked back, you saw his hood drawn over his head. It must have been why Salazar didn't see you in the dark corner.

"What are you doing out here?"

He dropped his hood. "You've been gone for hours, all three of us went looking. Where were you?"

Both of you began down the path towards the common room.

"Searching, in vain, for a repository," you admitted, prying a sigh from him. "I know, I just- I don't know what to do Ominis."

"It's not fair to drop all of this on you, but please don't do anything dangerous without talking to us first. You're part of a group now. We're in this together."

It didn't feel like you were, it certainly felt like you were alone to find the way back home. To figure out how to master your magic. To be swallowed up by the darkness alone.

"Yes, I know, but it's not that easy either."

"Why? Because Salazar's after you?"

Shaking your head, you decided not to hash it. "It's nothing, maybe I'm just over thinking it."

Catching onto the way your voice wavered, his head turned towards you. "Do you believe that or is that just something to say so I'd leave it alone?"

Not replying, his brows pinched, but he didn't press the topic.

....

Previous

Next

[collectorcrowcalamity]

Gray, Green, and the Inbetween pt. 2

The Railroad Man x Non-binary Witch Reader

Pt. 1

Garbage summary: Witch lives alongside the railroad, they’re a community organizer, healer, teacher etc. After unsuccessfully trying to wrangle some control over the reader’s village, TRM gets a lot a little obsessed with controlling the town and the reader. The reader likes a challenge and is more curious about TRM than is safe and sane [Basically, where’s the TRM x Reader love? I mean he squicks me out in an attractive way? he’s an embodiment of capitalism and brutally uses people for his own gain… but hear me out]

TW: Mentions of bodily harm caused by working at the railroad. There will likely be more as I come up with ideas for this story.

∾∾∾∾∾

You could feel his smile on your skin, somehow, it was hard to explain. It has always felt dirty and sickly to have been caught looking, but even more so by him. You knew he wouldn’t get close, you’d warded the place so well that even well-meaning visitors wandered around lost for a bit before finding who they were visiting and anyone who wasn’t meant to be here never seemed to notice any of it. This helped prevent people from banks coming to evict community members because the bank decided they owned this little village jammed like a doorstop into the edge of the woods.

Still, there was a feeling of unease, and the next three hours were spent reinforcing the wards. He may not have succeeded in destroying the town to make way for newer capital last time, but his presence on the hill every week now, it used to only be once a month when he could pretend he was hidden by a moonless night, made you nervous. 

You didn’t get much sleep after that.

The morning brought a light that activated a small, but treatable, headache behind your eyes and a harsh knock at the door. It was a rhythm rushed and broken, so you knew who it was before you even opened the door. 

A dark-haired boy stood on the porch, stood was a kind way to phrase it, more like pacing in place to get his energy contained. Isaiah Maddox was twelve, big for his age, and strong as an ox, but he was twitchy and needed to be outdoors. He loved running errands for you in exchange for whatever you had decided to bake that day.

“Finished with your chores already?” you feigned disbelief. Isaiah had two sets of chores, one in the morning, and a longer one after dinner meant to boil off any of that excess energy in him before supper. 

Isaiah grinned “Not unless you got any more for me!”

You thought hard about it, you didn’t really want him to go into the woods and outside your wards if you could help it, not with whatever strange meeting the Man had, you didn’t see him as the helping-people-out-of-the-goodness-of-his-heart type and whoever he helped was likely the same. The best bet was to pick things he liked to do in town, that would help him stay busy and safe, but not be too suspicious about it or he’d know the man who led his father out of his life was slinking around the town again. You didn’t know how, but that boy knew more than was good for him, and he had too much energy to keep any of it to himself

“Well, I was thinking about fixing that fence there and then heading over to my mama’s place”, you said with a smile knowing she’d be able to come up with plenty of things to keep Isaiah out of trouble and help you figure out what to do. 

It seemed to do the trick, the boy’s face somehow lit up even more. 

∾∾∾∾∾

The Man had given them business cards and you barely saw them, grey and shining, as they were tucked away into shirt pockets, hat bands, shoes, really any place they could be easily and reliably stored. Isaiah was holding one despite being far too young for the type of labor the railroad required and staring at it with a puzzled expression, he mumbled something that you couldn’t quite hear.

“What was that, Isaiah?”

“Shit business card doesn't even have a way to reach him” he grumbled.

Usually, you’d pretend to uphold his mama’s wishes for Isaiah not to swear, give him a little look he’d pretend to get sheepish at, but you figured now was the best time for a little swearing, and no one else seemed to have heard him. But he was right, it was a plain card with an “R” and railroad tracks, no name, and no company. 

“Isaiah, give me the card.” You tried your best to sound firm but calm, rather than the creeping fear you felt at losing this small boy to… who knows what. He must have figured you out because he handed it to you silently and shoved his hands in his pockets kicking at the dirt to pretend he wasn’t interested. 

The card made your fingertips tingle, it wasn’t painful like pins and needles when your foot fell asleep, but it felt dangerous, like the buzzing of wasp wings. With your heart racing, you turned back to your home.

Nearly the entire day was dedicated to you collecting and destroying the business cards, you found you could only hold a few at a time before the tingling turned into a burning, and it was a pain to cleanse the cards and burn them out back. You weren’t about to burn them and release that energy into your home. Many men refused to listen to your pleas that only bad things could come from this Man, that the railroad took life and limb indiscriminately, and that they best think about their families and the community that relied on them. Besides, the rails on the hill have been done for a year and a half now, what more could they need? Neither sympathy, logic, nor approaches to their egos worked on them, they wanted the glory and wealth the Man in the gray suit had offered them. You didn’t blame them, you knew they wanted the best for their loved ones. Money wasn't much here, most people went out into fields owned by other men to tend crops they didn’t own, and others traveled together weekly to larger towns to sell wears they had made and buy whatever the town couldn’t grow in the community garden. You did your best to make sure everyone got to eat regardless of their individual successes, and you never asked for payment when you set bones, delivered medicine, or delivered children, but the truth was, everyone was struggling. 

And so the next dawn, the men who held their business cards with iron grips walked out of town and they never came back.

∾∾∾∾∾

You snapped back into focus as you approached the small cottage, Isaiah had been talking, and you’d been responding with as much attention as you could, but your nerves had really taken over as the day progressed. Your mama, who wasn’t exactly your mama but might as well have been, had the table laid out with food much to the joy of Isaiah. 

“Hello, ma’am” Isaiah shouted a bit too loud for the house.

“Isaiah, you better be heading out to wash up before you even think about touching that food” a voice yelled from the kitchen. Isaiah froze one hand hovering over a roll before slinking off to scrub off his hourly dirt collection. 

A hand grabbed your shoulder, and your mama gestured for you to join her in the kitchen.

“I take it he’s been showing up again?”

You nodded grimly and felt your stomach flip a little. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but you hadn’t told her every single instance you’d seen the Man poking around. You pretended it was because you didn’t want her to worry or get angry and try and drive him off with one of the wooden spoons from her collection and put herself in more danger, but it also felt strangely intimate for him to be checking on the town. You didn’t like thinking about how your heart races a bit when you look out the window before going to sleep, and that he was on the outskirts long after the rails on the hills were established.

[thethistlegirlwrites]

🌈 - Do you associate any colors with them?

💝 - How much effort do they put into appearances? Do they have a favorite article of clothing?

🌨️ - If this oc had a day free from all their responsibilities, how would they spend it?

👖 - Coffee shop or high school AU, your choice: tell me their role.

💔 - Does forgiveness come easily or with difficulty to this oc? Can they forgive others? What about themselves?

🗡️ - Does this oc have a signature object, accessory, or weapon?

📓 - Do you associate any quotes or lyrics with this oc?

For all Scrapbook fellows

Thanks for the ask! This was fun!

🌈 - Do you associate any colors with them? Matti - Olive green, light tan Jim - Caramel brown Lina - Burnt orange, teal Will - Auburn red Milo - Silver, dark blue

💝 - How much effort do they put into appearances? Do they have a favorite article of clothing? Matti - Matti doesn't spend a lot of time on how he looks aside from making sure he's fully shifted one way or another after he changes form. He does have a favorite piece of clothing, his old bib overalls. He likes having all the pockets. Jim - Jim tries to dress nicely, his parents always scolded him when he got a lot of dirt on his clothes from playing outside as a kid. He's less careful now but he still doesn't wear something that's got visible grime or stains unless he's tried to wash them out first. Lina - When she isn't trying to blend in for the sake of a story, Lina likes to wear bright colors and loose, comfortable clothes she can move in. Her clothes and her van are sort of the ways she adds bright spots to a world that is often pretty dark, given her line of work. She likes her denim vest that she can cover in button pins and stick her photos in the pockets of, and she also is fond of her bright orange hair scarf. Will - Will tends to wear clothes that were handed down from his brother, who is shorter but stockier, so all of his clothes are too large but the sleeves and pant legs are too short. Milo - Milo usually has a "Beck's Dairy" shirt or jacket, since he comes into town with his job at his family's dairy farm dropping off the direct milk orders. He tries to keep himself looking presentable so that people who don't know who he is don't assume he's a vagrant or homeless, a few out of towers have reported him to the police, and even though the misunderstandings are quickly cleared up, Milo isn't fond of dealing with them.

🌨️ - If this oc had a day free from all their responsibilities, how would they spend it? Matti - In summer, Matti would spend it in wolf form, roaming around near his farm and resting in the hedgerows. In the winter, he's more likely to spend time inside with his family around the fire, playing games or reading a book while curled up on the couch with at least one of his siblings and a few blankets. Jim - Jim would spend a day off either walking around in town where he could meet new people or reading, depending on how his leg is feeling that day. Lina - Lina would drive to somewhere she's never seen before and photograph anything that caught her eye. Between stories, she fills homemade scrapbooks with Polaroids of places she's driven through that interested her enough to stop and capture. Will - Will would probably spend the morning baking or preparing things to bake, and then the afternoon, while things are in the oven, reading. He enjoys being in the kitchen, and he's proud of being able to make excellent baked goods. Milo - Probably the same way he always does, spending time in town telling his stories to people!

👖 - Coffee shop or high school AU, your choice: tell me their role.  Coffee Shop Matti - Florist across the street who's always saving the shop's dying houseplants. Jim - Barista with a car that constantly breaks down Lina - Reporter who lives in one of the apartments on the block and stops every day for the same black coffee order Will - Kid who comes to the coffeeshop to study because it's better than going home Milo - Regular who sits in one of the corners with the newspaper and tells great stories to anyone who's willing to listen to him.

💔 - Does forgiveness come easily or with difficulty to this oc? Can they forgive others? What about themselves? Matti - Matti can forgive fairly easily, but there are some things he can hold onto for a long time. Tied as closely as he is to the land and cycles of nature, he can let go of all but the deepest wounds for a fresh start. Some things, though, cut and damage deeply enough to leave a lasting impact. He's quicker to forgive anyone else before himself. Jim - Jim has forgiven so many small insults and slights over the years that it's become second nature to him. He got a little freaked out by how many times people he was mad at met with strange and unexpected minor accidents, and even though he didn't think there was any way he was causing them, he sort of thought of it as a sign that he needed to stop harboring resentment. He has a harder time forgiving when the same cruelty is directed toward someone else. For himself, Jim can usually at least justify his decisions, even if some of them he questions in the long run. Lina - Lina doesn't forgive easily. She turns her anger or pain into words that she then uses as a weapon to bring down people who have hurt her, or more often, others. She tends to be as hard on herself as anyone else, because in her job mistakes can be the difference between justice or a failure of it, and sometimes life and death. She feels like she can't afford to be wrong, not even once. Will - Will has spent his whole life being blamed for his mother's death when he was born, and he's internalized that blame. It's hard for him to even consider forgiving himself. But since he tends to blame himself for most things that go wrong, he doesn't see a lot in others that he needs to forgive. Milo - Milo is reasonably quick to forgive people, given how often he can see that there is more to their story than most people know. He's learned to extend the same courtesy to himself in most cases, especially since his family is one where resentment isn't allowed to fester and most disagreements are dealt with above the board, if loudly and sometimes sharply.

🗡️ - Does this oc have a signature object, accessory, or weapon? Matti - Matti doesn't really have much physically with him that he's particularly attached to. When he left home, he brought mostly essentials with him. Something that's more representative of him than actually something he possesses is an ear of corn. Jim - Jim is rarely without his cane. His family tried to prevent him from using one as a boy, thinking that he would get too dependent on it, and that making his leg stronger was better. After he left home, he figured out how wrong they were about that and started using one. Lina - Lina carries her Polaroid camera pretty much everywhere with her. She's always taking pictures of anything she finds interesting or intriguing. Sometimes, her random snapshots have told her more than she expected about a story, and she's learned not to discount what catches her eye. Will - Will doesn't have much that he considers his own. He's always been drawn to the things that were his mother's, but when his father caught him taking her old silver locket from the small side table where he kept all his mementos of her, Will learned not to touch any of those things anymore. Milo - (this one's a little different but I still feel like it qualifies...) Milo generally always has his dog Ginger with him. The brown and white bull terrier mix is a former stray Milo earned the trust of, who now follows him everywhere.

📓 - Do you associate any quotes or lyrics with this oc? Matti - "If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now" - Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin Jim - "And then when just enough light Comes from just the right side And you find you're not who you're suppose to be?" - Forest by Twenty-One Pilots Lina - "Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen And keep your eyes wide The chance won't come again" - The Times They Are A'Changin' by Bob Dylan Will - "Who am I to say what any of this means, I have been sleepwalking Since I was fourteen" - Nine by Sleeping at Last Milo - "There's something wrong with the world today I don't know what it is Something's wrong with our eyes, We're seeing things in a different way" - Living' on the Edge by Aerosmith