#is that just like end of a shoot week energy or what lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yan-lorkai · 3 months

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.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: It's finally done, babes. This whole fic is so silly though, it's just Epel and reader bickering the entire time before their parents appear lol. Mind you the ending was going to be very different but like I've had so many ideas and so much time had already passed. I might write the alternative ending later though. Vil's nickname meaning btw: hase = bunny, Liebling = dear/darling & Sonnenschein = sunshine. Read part one here. @kingofspadesdelusion @harukishiyo

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, platonic + soft yanderes, sibling fight, hypnosis, memory loss, around 7k, half proofread.

The first thing you feel upon regaining consciousness is pain. It's unbearable, exploding in your chest as if someone repeatedly stabbed you and slowly peeled away your skin until only your bones were exposed.

Flames shoot through your spine, and coldness seeps into your bones. It feels like you've been run over by a tractor for hours, or fallen from an airplane — that's how much it hurts. Moans of pain escape your open mouth, but you don't have enough energy to open your eyes, at least not immediately.

There's a buzzing noise, a humming breaking the silence. Everything around you spins; you can feel it even with your eyes closed. A gentle hand holds yours, someone wraps your body in soft covers, there are screams, and a thick liquid falls into your mouth. Then, it's over.

But now, it's different somehow.

You still can't move, can't talk, can't open your eyes. It's like experiencing sleep paralysis.

Lying there, you try to remember what happened. Your memory is foggy, and trying to recall only makes your head hurt more. You grit your teeth and try again, harder, ignoring the pain.

It's like swimming against the waves—almost impossible. You force every inch of your cells to work, your lungs to take in air. You're trying so hard. You wish desperately for something, anything, to work.

Then, a light bulb goes off in your mind.

You remember the vampire pinning you to the ground, glass cutting into your skin, sweat and tears mixing, and a scream of pain escaping your lips as he bit you. After that, darkness and pain.

For several days following your transformation - assuming that's what it was - you wake and sleep deliriously, feverish, thirsty for blood, a viscous liquid spilling onto your lips until you calm down and sleep again. The cycle repeats.

It wasn't a nightmare? You bitterly think.

Heat surrounds you, but what makes your body tense is the sensation of someone behind you. Paying closer attention, you feel a faint, cold breath sending shivers down your back as you try to move your fingers and hands. But nothing happens; your limbs are too tired and weak from weeks of sleep.

Suppressing an angry noise, you slowly open your eyes to find yourself inside a transparent coffin on the ground — a glass coffin. It's dark, illuminated only by moonbeams through open windows. You hear laughter and soft music in the distance, the voices of two older vampires having fun. If you strain, you can even make out their conversation. But that's not what captures your attention; it's the fact that you can see in the dark, hear from such distances… You know what that means.

As minutes pass, you manage to move your fingers, then your hands, your entire torso, and finally your whole body. Your throat is dry as if you swallowed sand. You cough several times, waiting for enough saliva to swallow as you watch the creature resting beside you.

What lies there is proof that your torment was real, not just an incredibly lucid dream. Next to you sleeps the creature who turned you into a vampire because he wanted a sibling — a fragile figure with lilac hair falling into his eyes, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

He looks fragile, different. Hypothetically, you should be strong enough to kill him now, even if you're as hungry as hell. Your hands clench into fists.

The scent of blood still lingers, and even in the dark, you see small dry drops staining the corners of his shirt. This horrifying realization makes you move away, pressing your back against your side of the coffin as you stare at him.

At that moment, blood doesn't disgust you; instead, you feel the thirst returning, your fangs yearning to bite something. You want to rip and taste, need it, even your own wrists seem appetizing enough.

You knew it now — you were no longer human. The confirmation was painful. Humans couldn't see in the dark, hear sounds from kilometers away, or crave blood.

Yes, you were no longer human…

Memories of your former life flooded back — the fleeting joys, genuine tears. Those days were over. No more early mornings watching the sunrise, no more wrestling with friends, no warm hugs after a bad day. Your tongue would never taste your favorite foods and drinks again.

Eternity stretched before you like an abyss, closing in from all sides. You mourned the humanity you'd lost, wishing desperately to turn back time, to prevent your friends from entering that house. Your hand rested where your heart once beat, hoping in vain to feel its rhythm again, but all you felt was cold, the intense cold of a creature of the night, of an inhuman monster you had become.

Blood no longer flowed in your veins. You stared at your wrists for a while. You had been robbed.

You weren't one to cry easily in the face of adversity, always seeking solutions rather than succumbing to despair. But now, the weight of what had happened hit you fully, and thick tears rolled down your cheeks as you gazed at the boy peacefully asleep beside you.

Your friends were dead — all of them, food for the same assassins who had killed you to turn you into a beast like them.

Monster. You, him, them — all monsters.

Without hesitation, you forced the coffin lid open and leaped out. Your eyes distinguished different shades in the darkness surrounding you. It couldn't be real, you thought, not for you. You still had your whole life ahead, plans, dreams, it couldn't be happening…

But it was.

The voices faded, footsteps replaced by your brother's soft snore, the person responsible for your death, the culprit. Your hands clenched again, nails digging into flesh, but you ignored the pain. Closing the distance, you knew with his parents absent, the odds were in your favor.

After him, you'd plan to dispose of the other two, if it was the last thing you did. Brick by brick, breach by breach, you would destroy this mansion, decorate it with their guts and entrails.

Doubt flickered momentarily. Was this right? Was taking his life justified? You struggled with the realization of becoming a monster, yet hiding away in isolation wasn't living either. But returning home endangered those you cared for.

The hesitation evaporated. You had to do this, guilt or not. You weren't a murderer, but you'd be one soon enough. You'd stain your hands with his blood, with their blood.

Your movements were as light as the pillows you had rested on moments ago. Leaning over him, your trembling hands found his neck, cutting off his oxygen supply. It felt undeniably right.

Epel jolted awake, as if doused in ice water, eyes wide with terror, a strangled cry escaping his lips as he struggled. You tightened your grip, yearning to witness his life fade, to feel him weaken and falter, if only for a moment's respite.

He ended you on a whim. You would end him for your revenge.

"Not so smug now, are we?" you teased, your hands still shaking from the force of your grip, leaving crescent marks on his pale skin.

Panic painted his eyes, adrenaline surged through his veins, primal instinct urging him to fight for survival. As air escaped his lungs, his body reacted, muscles tensing.

"Look at me," You whispered to him, your voice sounding strange even to you. "I want to see the life leaving you when you die, as you had seen in mine when I died."

With a primal roar, Epel held onto your wrists, fingers digging into flesh as he fought to break free from the suffocating grasp. Every fiber of his being was focused on one singular goal: survival. Like a prey trapped in it's predator's maws.

Monster, human. Every species would always hope to survive. Or to run.

And sometimes... They fought back.

"You think you're so smart." He wheezed, an airy laugh leaving him. Its tone sounded so unnatural, so rough and dark, shivers went down your spine. You watched him closely, feeling like something was about to happen. Uncertainty dancing in your eyes as you tried to discern his next move.

With deliberate slowness, he straightened, his gaze piercing through the dim light with an intensity that made your heart race. "But cleverness alone won't save you," Epel murmured, his voice low and laden with a hint of menace.

Despite his bluff, sweat beaded on his skin, mingling with the scent of fear and his limps weakinging. A groan left him.

"Perhaps not," You replied evenly, refusing to show any sign of weakness. "But it certainly makes for an interesting challenge, wouldn't you agree?"

He wheezed again, trembling. He flexed his legs and used them to try to unbalance you or push you away in an attempt to escape. A futile attempt, you were unmoving. Unwilling to even give him a chance.

Die already! You wanted to scream, wanted to rip his head with your fangs.

Epel's muscles strained against your hold, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he struggled against the encroaching darkness. He was looking at you with his big lilac eyes, hoping for mercy or something else. But gradually, his movements grew weaker, more labored, until finally, they ceased altogether.

He lay there limp, his body cold and lifeless — a portrayal of a defeated monster.

In that moment, the roles were reversed, the hunter became the hunted. A surge of relief washed over you as you watched over Epel's unmoving body. Your heart raced with the realization that you had prevailed, that the threat had been neutralized.

As you took in the scene before you, a wave of relief washed over you. The danger had passed, at least for now. And as you caught your breath, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in your ability to withstand the ordeal. Though your chest was heavy with something you couldn't quite put into words. Guilty? Sadness? You didn't know what it was.

Tiny tears slipped from your eyes and fell on his face. Dead. You killed him. You thought about what you were feeling as you slowly stood up. It wasn't guilty.

It was something more primal. Something you didn't quite understood.

You turned around as you walked straight to the door, your hand frozen while you held the handle. There was two more to go. Whatever this thing you were feeling was, it could wait a bit. You looked back one last time, a gasp leaving you.

You stood there, baffled. His body had vanished. Why? How? You scanned the room, searching desperately, but he was nowhere to be found. Do vampire bodies just vanished after death? Were he pretending?

You opened the door and ran with reckless abandon. You raced through the halls, the truth sinking in like cold claws upon your heart, you hoped for any and all silly hypothesis to be the one instead of the real one. Epel had staged his death with such cunning that even your new instincts had failed you. Wherever he was, his laughter echoed with a bitter edge of amusement at your expense.

He sounded like he was having the time of his life.

As you ran, your senses caught every whisper of movement, every hint of shadow, every murmur he made. The sound of owls hooting far away punctuated the night. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you turned yet another hallway, the eerie shadows seemed to move of their own accord, trying to catch you, to hold prisoner just as much as you already is. The corridors twisted and turned in a confusing maze, never-ending, forever stretching far away.

Then, suddenly, the laughter stopped. The silence was deafening, making your heart race even faster. You slowed your pace, trying to listen, straining to hear any sign of movement. The stillness was oppressive, the darkness closing in around you.

"You were too confident," Epel's voice reached you, his tone dripping with amusement. "I'II let you know that vampires can't breathe, though we do move our shoulders and "breathe" because we were so used to after turning. So you would never be able to kill me with your teeny little hands. It was cute that you tried though. I did the same thing after I was turned, not to my father, it was a human. An elder man... I think. My first victim."

Your fists clenched at your sides, looking around. "And? If I couldn't kill you there, I'II kill you here. I have all the time to try."

With that, he appeared from the shadows, a smirk growing on his lips. Epel laughed. "You are but a baby right now, weak and easily tired, dear sibling. I'm not even teasing you as it is the truth."

Anger flared within you, but you fought to keep your composure. You needed a clean, calm mind for now. "Oh, I'm not helpless," You retorted, stepping closer. "You won't get away this time."

Epel chuckled, a low, mocking sound that grated on your nerves. "We'll see about that."

In an instant, he moved, a blur of motion as he darted to the side, anticipating what he was about to do you launched yourself after him trying to catch him before he turned into shadows again but it was futile, he was gone just like that.

Like sand falling through your hands, so easily. You bit your lower lip angrily.

Every whisper of movement, every flicker of shadow, anything around you could be him. The empty, endless corridors seeming to play tricks on your mind again as you ran after him without really knowing if you were following the right direction, having losing sight of him as soon as he turned the corner.

The manor was different from the other, you could tell. Its wall made of wooden instead of brick, the sound produced by your steps was loud too. There was some torch holders attached to walls, which was a bad idea. But this was not important, not now at least.

Though it was certainly something you kept in mind. You could always burn this manor with the trio inside of it.

"Pss, here!" He called.

Ahead, you caught a glimpse of him turning a corner. You pushed yourself harder, running without ever feeling tired, running as freely as you could knowing that you wouldn't bump into things, the darkness inviting you to see through her. As you rounded the corner, you found yourself in an empty section.

You heard his laugh, so joyful. As if he felt funny how you were chasing him around like a kicked puppy who wanted to bite him.

You stopped, he was more faster than you because of his little trick. But maybe you could also use the shadows like he so effortlessly did? Was that even possible?

Well, he was doing it so it was possible. But how? You thought for what felt like hours, steady and still, still hearing whatever what's happening in case he took that opportunity to hit you.

You weren't bound by human rules; maybe you really could do it. Focusing your mind, you reached out to the darkness around you, willing it to envelop you, to make you one with the shadows, as if you were but a swimmer trying to be one with the water, feeling around, searching for something, anything at all.

You felt a brief chill, a sensation like the brush of icy fingers, and for a moment, you thought you had succeeded. But as you tried to step into the shadows, to melt away as Epel had done, nothing happened. You remained solid and visible, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Epel's laughter rang out louder than before, sharp and mocking.

"You're not ready for that yet," He said between giggles and wheezes, shaking his head. "It takes more than desire to command the shadows. You need understanding, control, and above all, experience. You're still just a fledgling."

"Shut up, this is all your fault" You insisted, trying to ignore the embarrassment burning within you. If anything, now you had to kill him for your honor too. "I'm going to find a stake and I'm going to fucking impale you with it."

He let out a low, mocking chuckle, the sound was as mischievious as he is. "Bold words for someone who can't even master the shadows," Epel teased, his voice dripping with disdain. "You think you can kill me? You're not even close to understanding what you're dealing with, so naive and self-assured, yapping endlessly about killing when I know damn well you can't stomach the thought of killing."

You heard something behind you and turned around immediately, ready to strike it with your bare hands and all anger bottled up on your chest. Nothing there, just another trick of his.

"But go ahead," He continued after being silent for a few minutes. "Try to find a stake, try to kill me. I'll enjoy watching you fail. Again."

His eyes glinted with a dangerous light, two lilac orbs glowing in the dark, promising chaos and pain, so unnatural to their usual sweet look. "And if you do manage to land a blow, remember this: I won't be so merciful next time. You're playing a dangerous game, sibling. One you can't win."

His form started dissolving into the darkness again when you surged forward, determined to not let him escape again, as the shadows swallowed both of you. You held onto his arm, wether because you were afraid of how fast you were moving or to ensure he wasn't going anywhere, you didn't know which was better. It was so strange, traveling through them, quick but unpleasant in a way you couldn't describe. You caught Epel staring at you, watching your expressions, before he regained control from the shadows and came to a stop, in a random room.

You were expelled from them with great force, hitting your back and shoulders against the wall, sending a few hanging pictures flying everywhere. While he landed perfectly fine on his own two feet.

"I hate you..." You groaned.

Epel's lips curled into a mocking smile, his fangs glinting in the dim light. "Hate me all you want, I don't care," He taunted, his voice dripping with amusement. He leaned in closer, his breath cold against your skin. "You're one of us now and the sooner you accept it, the better."

"I never wanted this," You spat, your voice trembling with a mix of rage and despair as you stood up. "You took my life on a stupid whim."

Epel's smile faded slightly, his expression growing more serious as he looked anywhere that wasn't your face. "I just... didn't want to be alone anymore," He admitted, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his tone. "I love dad and father and they spoil me quite a lot but I miss having someone my age to talk to. We don't need to fight. We can be... Friends."

"Never," You snarled almost immediately, knowing well that you rather eat rocks and lava than be on amicable terms with him. Epel caught your wrist, his grip like iron.

"Maybe not today," He said softly, his eyes locking onto yours. "But one day, you'll see. We're connected now, bound by blood. You can't escape what you are, you can't escape me."

With a frustrated cry, You fought against him, kicking his shins and sinking your tiny, but sharp, fangs into his arms that held you, tearing at his flesh until it was a gruesome, bloody mess. Despite the blood trickling down your face, you refused to surrender, resolved to not go down without a fierce battle.

And Epel watched you with a mixture of pity and something that might have been hope. He truly hoped he could convince you through his words. He failed.

"Maybe when you wake up you'll be more receptive to seeing things from another point of view." He thought out loud , his voice almost gentle as he swiftly took hold of your hands, making impossible to escape from his grip even with you struggling and fighting. He simply didn't budge, almost as if he was made of iron, unmovable.

Epel's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of tranquility and determination burning brightly within them, as you felt your world swaying for as long as you stared at him.

"Sleep," Epel whispered, his hoarse voice echoing in the dimly lit room as dark spots started to dance upon your eyes. However, you refused to yield, turning your head defiantly to the other side so you couldn't be influenced by his hypnotic eyes.

You remembered reading once that vampires could influence people and you had no time to discover if this was real or not. Though without a doubt he was using hypnosis with you now but him himself wasn't strong, not in this at least. "Ah- stop, look at me. I command you to look at me."

Frustration and fear gnawed at you. He was playing a game and you were his unwilling participant. Again. You close your eyes instead. Your head swam but you fought against the pull of his hypnosis. Your mind was your own, and you refused to let him take that from you.

"What are you? A wizard?" You muttered back at him, holding back a laugh. "I command you to shut up."

Epel's eyes widened in annoyance, and he paused, his grip loosening just slightly. "Why do you resist? I'm trying to help you."

"Help me? Are you that dense?" You scoffed, breathing hard even though you didn't need it anymore. The motion was still too familiar, a reflex you hadn't yet forgotten even knowing well that was futile. You began counting to ten mentally, trying to calm yourself enough to think clearly. "You turned me into this... monster. I don't want your help. I didn't even wanted this. You just took my life without my permission."

Epel's expression hardened, a flash of hurt crossing his face before he masked it with anger, heavy accent dominating his tone. "You don't understand," He snapped. "I tried to be cool and gentle, yet ya ain't done a single thing if not grumple. I don't give a rat's ass if yer angry or sad, you're my kin now. An' we are your family, like it or not. You ain't goin' nowhere."

Epel's eyes darkened with a mix of rage and desperation, though his tone was filled more with frustration than regret. You felt uneasy for as long as he stared at you, feeling as if something was about to happen.

"I've played with you enough already," He growled.

Before you could react, Epel gripped your head with both hands and slammed it against the ground. Pain exploded in your skull, and your vision blurred. You tried to fight back, but your limbs felt heavy and uncooperative - probably due to his earlier hypnosis.

"Why can't you just see things my way?" Epel's voice sounded distant, muffled by the ringing in your ears. "I did this for us."

You groaned, struggling to move, but your body refused to obey. The edges of your vision darkened as you fought to stay conscious, anger and fear mingling in your chest.

Epel's grip tightened, his frustration palpable. "This could have been easier," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "But you had to make things difficult."

You felt yourself slipping away, the pain in your head overwhelming, tears of pain and hatred falling down your eyes. You failed again.

You repeated like a mantra, failure, failure, failure.

"Wait…" You tried to say, but the words came out as a weak, unintelligible murmur.

As world tilted and spun, a new presence made itself known. The heavy silence was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, each step echoing with authority and grace at the same time. Suddenly, the door creaked open, revealing the imposing figure of a tall, proud, beautiful vampire standing in the doorway, his gaze piercing and inscrutable. His partner stood behind him.

"Oh la la, the children are playing already." Rook mused, a smile founding way to his lips as he watched you struggling.

With a single glance, they took in the scene before them - the traces of blood staining the floor and all over your own shirt and lips, Epel hands still holding your head as the world continued to spin around. Vil's expression remained unreadable as he surveyed his children, his presence commanding attention.

"What is the meaning of this, Epel?" Vil demanded in a voice that brooked no argument, his tone a mix of concern and reproach. His eyes flickered between Epel and you, searching for answers in the depths of his conflicted gaze.

Epel stood rigidly, his expression a blend of defiance and regret. "I didn't mean for things to go this far, father, I swear." He muttered, avoiding Vil's piercing gaze. "I just wanted them to understand..."

Vil's eyes narrowed, his displeasure evident. "By force? By hurting them? You think this is how you build connections, Epel? By breaking them?"

Epel's shoulders slumped, the weight of father's words pressing down on him. "I didn't know what else to do," His voice barely audible. "I was desperate."

Desperate, indeed. You lay on the ground, still feeling the residual pain from the impact. Your body ached, but you forced yourself to sit up, wincing as you moved, feeling the blood trickling down your neck from how hard he was banging your head on the floor. Rook found it's way to your side quickly, supporting you even if you obviously didn't like the idea that much.

"Desperate or not, you had no right," You said, your voice trembling but firm. "You can't just force people into your life and expect them to like you."

Vil's expression softened slightly as he glanced at you, the newest family member, his concern evident. "Are you alright?" he asked, his tone gentler.

You nodded slowly, the throbbing in your head making it hard to speak. Though when you were capable, you made your option known. "I'll be fine, dear Epel was just trying to show me some family love, isn't that right, Epel? Such a caring brother."

Rook pressed down on your injured head, silecing you before you could come up with another sarcastic remark. His stare was the only warning you had that dealing with him or Vil was different than dealing with Epel.

That you needed to respect them. And truly you did, only for now, while you waited for a perfect to either take Epel's as hostage or ran away. You didn't decided yet.

Vil clicked his tongue in displeasure, turning back to his son, his eyes hardening once more. "That's not how I taugh you on how to do things, Epel. Look at them, they're shaking and scared."

Epel looked away, his jaw clenched and a large pout forming on his lips as he was scolded. "I just... I know, father. I apologize."

Rook appeared beside Vil, his presence a calming influence. "Don't be so harsh on him, mon couer. He just made a tiny little mistake."

Vil sighed, his demeanor softening as Rook's arms wrapped around his waist, resting his face on Vil's shoulder. They stared at each other for a few seconds, almost as if they could read each other minds and this made you uneasy.

Was that possible too? You hoped not.

You saw Rook's amused smile growing and Vil rolling his eyes at his lover. And the scene was kinda cute if it wasn't for the fact that they were your enemy's parents. The couple you would kill after you had killed their son. Though were you really capable in this state? You couldn't even pry yourself from Epel's hands.

You took to watch the couple interacting while Epel was till sulking in the corner, looking like a cockroach in the middle of the kitchen who freezed up because the light just turned on. In his lover's arms, Vil looked so relaxed, slicked hair falling over his face as he turned his neck to softly plant a kiss on Rook's lips.

You wouldn't be able to tell that they weren't humans just by the way they looked or acted, they were too normal and common for anyone to guess that truly they were something different. You wondered how many lifes had they taken? How much blood had they spilled?

You were afraid of it. Of this new life, of failing to kill them.

You were afraid of becoming detached and apathetic just like them. You blinked, next thing you know Rook was next to you again.

You gasped, surprised, taking a step back.

"Aw, why the long face, petit lapin?" He asked, his eyes studying you with a mix of compassion and curiosity. Like a hunter study his prey. You felt trapped under his stare, compelled to answer him, even when you tried to swallow your words.

"I... I'm just... trying to make sense of everything," Your voice left you, so vunerable and feeling so small, you noticed when Vil took his side, also looking at you. "I don't know what to do... I don't even know how to be like this."

Your voice trembles with uncertainty. Every word feels like a confession under Rook's hypnotic stare, drawing out truths you're not sure you're ready to confront. So much doubt, so much fear, so much everything.

You fell lost, exactly how you felt when you woke up hours ago. The world is overwhelming and too big, and too dangerous. You don't know how to navigate it now and you can only hold onto your revenge, because if you lost this too you may lost yourself.

And you're not ready to talk about it. Not here, not now.

Rook's expression softens ever so slightly, a rare tenderness breaking through his usual intensity. "You don't need to be afraid," He reassures you, his voice low and calm. "We're here to protect you, to guide you."

Your eyes dart nervously to Vil, who offers you a reassuring nod, your thoughts keep coming to your mind; the mansion, the deaths, the pain, the fear. Yet, there's a certain growing on your chest that hasn't there moments ago.

Vil's presence calming and inviting and Rook seems like the sun, so warm, so happy. You turned your head away, afraid that your thoughts aren't yours anymore and that they were only manipulating you.

Feeling overwhelmed, you hesitate, you rethink everything you said, every little syllable, not knowing if you told them that willing or not. There's still some sarcastic remarks and rude comments you want to say to stun them, but before you can do it you feel Vil's hand grabbing your jaw to make you look at him this time, his eyes shining a vibrant lilac.

"It's ok to be confused, mein liebling," He mutters sofly. "It's ok to be scared and overwhelmed but we're here for you. You're safe with us."

He was telling the truth, you could feel it inside of you. The conviction, the certainess, Vil and Rook shared a glance then, with a surprising synchrony, they both step closer to you and by instinct you took a step back before looking back at Vil, confused. Everything was starting to feel complicated somehow.

Vil's arms encircled you first, drawing you into a warm, protective embrace, your head - now healed and not aching at all - resting on his chest as he played with your hair. His touch was gentle yet firm.

"You're not alone," Vil murmurs softly, his voice a comforting whisper against your ear.

Rook follows suit, enveloping you in his embrace from the other side. His hold is oddly comforting, as if he's silently promising to shield you from whatever dangers lie ahead. "We'll take good care of you, we're going to have so much fun together," Rook murmurs, lost in his own little world, swaying from side to side and pulling you along, as if you two were dancing to strange song only he was capable of hearing. Epel joins in, his arms encircling the group, like a family.

Are you forgetting something? You feel like you're forgetting something.

"Everything's fine, my dear. Close your eyes." But you don't. Vil's voice is as soothing as velvet, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. His presence is familiar, grounding. You want to trust him, to obey, but something in his tone holds you back. You keep your eyes open, watching him intently.

You watch his lips stained blood, the unnatural lilac eyes, the sun slowly rising through the windows. Something was wrong, so terribly wrong and your throat was so dry so suddenly. As you try to pull away from that hug, you feel him placing his hands on either side of your head.

“Close your eyes,” He instructs in a serene, soft tone that made you giddy. It was like you could tell him anything and never feel afraid of judgment, like a child running to show their father a drawing they just made without knowing how silly it looked. "I'm doing this because is far more convenient than wait for you to come around."

"I don't want to close my eyes," You answered petulantly. "Tell Epel to close his eyes."

Epel laughed a little, for the expression that took hold of his father face was priceless. He was a man (vampire?) of science, always have been, whence why their path have crossed when Epel was younger. Though he was old as that manor and the trees planted on the garden, there was an explicit limit to his patience. Staling for time as you were doing was not going to work.

It could work on Rook though. Anything worked on him simply because he was reckless. Epel was never going to forgot how he flirted with a hunter when he and Vil had a bad argument, nor how Vil killed that hunter painfully and slowly.

"Trust me," He whispers, fingers hovering just inches from your temple. You feel a slight pressure, like the brush of a feather, and your vision blurs momentarily.

"Close your eyes, lapin!" Rook murmurs this time, his voice like a lullaby. Your eyelids grow heavy, and for a moment, you consider giving in. But you fight against the drowsiness, blinking rapidly to stay awake.

Vil's expression hardens. "It’s for your own good, sonnenschein."

His hand finally makes contact with your skin, a gentle touch that sends a ripple through your mind. You feel a strange warmth spreading from his fingertips, a comforting, almost hypnotic sensation. Though you fight back agaisnt it with all your forces. You repel each and every attempt without truly knowing why.

Why you feared him when his hug was so cozy and comfy? Weird. Still you couldn't help it.

Your thoughts become hazy, memories slipping through your grasp like sand through a sieve. You struggle to hold on, to remember why you were resisting in the first place. Vil's presence was overwhelming, his will intertwining with your own. As your eyes close on their own accord, you feel a strange warmth spreading from Vil’s hands into your mind.

His voice becomes a soothing murmur, a hypnotic rhythm that lulls you into a deep, peaceful state. “Forget the pain, forget the fear,” He whispers, his words wrapping around your consciousness like a comforting blanket. “Remember only the peace, the safety, the love. Remember us.”

"Everything will be fine," Rook assures you, his voice echoing in your mind. You feel a tug, a gentle pull as if something is being drawn out of you. The details of your conversation, the reasons for your mistrust, your friends, your old world, everything begin to fade. The warmth grows, enveloping you in a cocoon of tranquility.

Epel watched it from a far, having freed himself from the hug. He was conflicted about this about at the same he wasn't going to stop his father, he knew better after all. Everything he did, he did with purpose. Though he wanted to ask if you'd be the same as you were? Fierce, fearless and determined? He hope you would.

He wanted you to be. He had other sibling once but he didn't fit in. So Epel had to dispose of him but you, oh, he could see you fitting into his little family well with your atitude and all. And he was glad that among your friends he chose you to be his sibling.

When you open your eyes again, you see Vil, Rook, and Epel standing before you, their faces filled with a mix of hope. You blink once, twice, and then your vision clears. You feel the weight lifting from your shoulders, the confusion and turmoil dissipating like morning mist.

You feel a strange sense of peace, a clarity that was missing before. The memories of your past, of your pain and fear, are gone, replaced by a comforting sense of belonging.

Vil is standing before you, a serene smile on his face. "There now," He says, his tone light and reassuring. "All better."

You nod slowly, you can't quite remember what had troubled you, but it no longer seems important.

"It worked?" Epel wanted to make sure.

His father only cocked an arrogant smile as he turned to face you. "Shall we go, hase? It's awfully clear already." He asks, extending a hand. And you take it without hesitation, the world around you feeling brighter, more vibrant.

The shadows of doubt and fear are gone, replaced by a sense of peace and clarity. You felt as if had had a pretty strange dream. Though everything evaporates from your head when you notices that you're hungry, your throat is still a little itchy.

"Where we're going?"

"To eat." Rook, from your other side, responded. He took your free hand as he and Vil guided you to somewhere darker, Epel following closer.

"After that, can I rant about this strange dream I had?" You asked.

"Of course," Rook said with a smile. "You can rant about it as we walk. We have time."

Vil glanced at you with a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "A strange dream, you say? Sounds intriguing. What happened?"

You smiled a little, everything was too funny. "So I was doing this dare with a couple of friends, I think? We went to an abandoned house and there was something hidden in the dark that attacked us when we were walking. It was chaotic."

Epel, who had been silent until now, murmured, "Dreams are so strange sometimes, huh? Good that this only a dream and no one can hurt you here."

You nodded, continuing to tell them about a small, cute creature with lilac eyes that you jokingly said resembled Epel, eliciting laughter from everyone except the mentioned vampire. Epel, walking silently beside you, only smiled faintly, his expression thoughtful as he listened to your recounting of the dream.

The atmosphere lightened as you shared other strange dreams and random thoughts you had, the darkness around you seeming less intimidating whenever you made Vil and Rook laugh till their belly hurts.

Yeah, Epel thought, you fit right here with them.

#twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere vil #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere rook #yandere rook hunt #yandere rookvil #yandere epel #yandere epel felmier #epel x mc #vil x mc #rook x mc #yandere epel x reader #yandere vil x mc #yandere rook x reader #tw yandere #pometrio au #lorkai oneshot

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thrillered · 3 months

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You know I Mountain Dew it for ya Pt.1 | Spencer Agnew x F! Reader |

You started working at Smosh when you were 26, a few years after graduating college. In your down time you wrote and produced your own music. Not that you had much down time, which wasn’t necessarily a problem, you loved your job, you got to work with some of the most creative, talented, and hilarious people you’ve ever met. After working on it for months you finally finished writing and producing your latest single "Espresso". The song blows up but Smosh fans begin to wonder if the song is about her dear friend and coworker Spencer Agnew.

*Every piece of this work is fictional. I was inspired by Sabrina Carpenters song Espresso when I noticed how much it could apply to Spencer lol, I did NOT write or produce Espresso*

Pt. 1: Lunch

“Hello everyone!! And welcome back to another TRY NOT TO LAUGH!” Amanda started, a burst of energy shooting throughout the sound stage. “Don’t worry, we’ve heard your requests so we grabbed Josh to do another MUSICAL episode!”

The cast cheered, you smiled as you stayed ducked behind them. “Because we’re doing a musical episode we invited the one and only Y/N to join us!” Courtney smiled, the group— Amanda, Courtney, Shayne, Angela, and Chanse— splitting to allow you to pop up.

“Hey everyone!!” You began, the cast and crew clapping and giving whoops of encouragement. “Okay, okay, that’s enough you’re making me blush” you joked, hands behind your back and twisting your foot.

“Don’t stop blushing yet Y/N, we aren’t done talking about you.” Chanse added, shaking your shoulder.

“We may or may not have had ulterior motives for this musical episode.” Amanda continued. “We invited Y/N to join us because she is releasing a new song!”

“AND because I'm hilariously witty, right?” you joked, causing shayne to roll his eyes. “But! Yes, the day this releases my new single “Espresso” will be premiering at 10 pm PST, like, everywhere you get your music! This song is super fun so I hope you guys like it!” The group cheered and with that the round began.

With Amanda in the stool first you decided to bust out your Sarah Christ impression for a beautiful ballad about how no establishments will let you smoke in them anymore. Amanda was quick to laugh, almost spraying you in the face, followed by a compliment about how good your Sarah Christ was.

The game went by smoothly, or as smoothly as a smosh video goes, everyone making each other laugh. During your time in the stool Shayne sang, or rather yelled, one of the lowest notes you'd ever heard. You stayed strong until he had been holding the same note for probably 10 seconds and his face turned the most pained shade of red.

“Oh thank god!” He said, leaning his hands on his knees as he caught his breath, “I think I would have gone until I passed out”

The final round ended and you began the outro with applause, “That was so much fun! I demand to be invited to every musical TNTL from now on. Thank you guys so much for watching, we hope you laughed just as much as we did.”

“Don't forget to stream “Espresso” by Y/N!” Chanse added, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder.

“It’s SO good! Like, I swear to god, it's been stuck in my head since I heard it for the first time.” Angela added.

“And with that we must part ways..” You began, in a deep melodic tone. “Don’t forget to like and subscribe and check out one of these two videos on your screen! Okay bye!”

—-

That was two weeks ago and the Try Not To Laugh was being posted today. Your single premiering tonight.

You sat at your desk, anxiously bouncing your heel as you tried to focus on the doc in front of you. You were supposed to meet with the games team later that afternoon to discuss possible creatives for some upcoming live streams. But the only thing you could focus on was what people would think about your song.

You aren’t new to making music. In fact, you’ve been writing it since college and even performing it at some open mics and small gigs. But, most people who knew you online knew you from Smosh, not from your musical career. You had about 3,000 monthly listeners, which always astounded you, but this was the first time that you were releasing music that was being promoted by such a large online entity.

“Keep shaking like that and you’ll cause an earthquake” You turned to see Spencer approaching your desk, hands in his pockets. You opened your mouth to respond but he cut you off, “Everyone is gonna love your song, Y/N. You don’t need to worry.”

“You haven't even heard it yet, Spence” You retorted, having made Spencer (Along with the rest of the cast, minus Angela) swear that he would wait until the release party to listen to it. You leaned your head on your chair to look at him as he sits next to you.

“Yes, but, you would only put out something good so I trust that the song slaps.” Spencer tried to ease your running mind, only to get a huff in return. “Okay fine.” He began, standing and grabbing your phone while simultaneously turning off your monitor.

“Wha- Hey” You started, trying to stop him but reacting too slowly.

“We are going out to lunch.” Spencer said, matter of factly.

“But what about the games meeting?” You asked.

“Got moved back an hour, don’t you look at the slack?” he chastised.

“Okay, but isn’t everyone going out tonight anyway?” You questioned, remembering that some of the cast and crew insisted on going out to celebrate your song release.

“Yeah but that’s everyone.” Spencer began, already walking towards the door, “Consider this your pre-game with your best friend.”

“A pre-game at..” You looked at your barren wrist, “two pm?”

“One: you’re not wearing a watch. And two: okay, a social pre-game. Plus, I’m not taking no for an answer, so come on and let your wonderful best friend buy you lunch.” Begrudgingly you agreed. You walked side by side to Spencer's car, him opening the passenger door for you before rounding the front and getting in the drivers side.

You smiled as you realized where he was taking you. He took you to a little hole-in-the-wall ramen place you two had discovered the year prior. It quickly became you and Spencer's own little spot. Neither of you ever went there without the other unless it meant stopping by to take it to go on the way to the other's apartment for a game or movie night.

The older Japanese-American couple that owned the restaurant greeted you with warm smiles, “The usual?” the husband, Kenji, asked.

You both nodded as you took a seat in one of the four small booths that lined the wall. The comforting smell of hot broth and spices calmed your anxious mind as you closed your eyes to take a deep inhale. You and Spencer talked about some upcoming shoots and how his Baldur's Gate 3 save was going as you waited for the food to arrive.

It didn’t take long for Emi, the other owner, to bring out your food, “You two are just the cutest, such a wonderful young couple.” She cooed.

“Oh we’re not-”

“Thank you Mrs. Ito, that's so sweet, we really love coming here.” You cut Spencer off, smiling at the woman's kindness. She walked off, heading to grab an order for a driver.

You turned to find Spencer staring at you with an eyebrow slightly raised. “What?” You asked, sipping on the steaming broth.

“So you think we’re the ‘most wonderful young couple’ huh?”

“Of course I do honeybun.” You jested, leaning over the table and tapping Spencer's cheek sarcastically. Resuming your meal as Spencer rolls his eyes.

The rest of your lunch is pleasant, filled with chatter about everything yet nothing. You tried to pay for your lunch when Mrs. Ito brings the bill but Spencer insists on covering it since he wanted to take you to lunch to distract you.

“Thank you spence, I really needed that.” You said, grabbing Spencer’s hand in thanks as you walked back into the office.

He squeezed your hand lightly, “I always know what you need.” And he did, Spencer was a consistent support system for you, had been since you began at Smosh. Beginning as an editor you worked with Spencer a lot. Your friendship blossomed over a shared love of movies and games.

Over the years you got closer and closer until you were unequivocally best friends. Weekly movie nights, breakfast, lunch, and dinner dates solidified that years ago. Now there’s hardly any time you spend without each other.

You walked hand in hand to the conference room, ready for the games meeting now that your head was clear.

#spencer agnew #smosh #smosh pit #smosh games #shayne topp #tommy bowe #Spencer Agnew/reader #Spencer Agnew x Reader #smosh spencer

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 8 months

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a/n: i know the game and fight were like two weeks ago but i couldn’t stop thinking about it lol. just a fun little thing - enjoy! (and literally as i go to post this, bb gets added back to the skills comp as he should’ve been in the first place so go defend your fastest skater title, mat😘)

word count: 4.5k

tw: oral (m recieving), cursing, chicago blackhawks slander, dirty talk

summary: after mat’s fight during the blackhawks game, you’re both worked up with extra energy to get out of your systems

“Fuck you!” You jump to your feet, screaming, adrenaline rushing through your veins. “Go fuck yourself!” Your stomach turns watching Mat fight, but you also can’t ignore the throb between your legs.

Unconcerned with the fact that you’re solidly in enemy territory, your shouting gets louder and louder. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch Mat scrap with Chicago’s number 43. Mat shifts and drops Blackwell to the ice, the refs and the other players skating over quickly.

“That’s right,” you crow, the people around you starting to boo. “Get fucking wrecked!”

Mat skates off, helmet gone, hair flattened to his head and jersey half off. He scowls and tugs the jersey back over his head and you pump your fists in the air. “That’s my man!” You jump up and down, flipping off a few Chicago fans that are shouting at you.

“Girl,” Alexa, Noah’s girlfriend, tugs at the hem of your vintage Islanders sweatshirt, laughing, “you’re going to get us killed. Sit down!”

You drop back down into your seat and shoot her a grin, “what a way to go out though!” You laugh and take a sip of your beer, turning in your seat when a Chicago fan a few seats down leans over to shout at you.

“Real classy behavior, lady,” he sneers and you flip him off with a bright smile.

“God, where to even start with the classy as hell Chicago Blackhawks organization?” You tap at your lower lip thoughtfully. “Patrick Kane? Jonathan Towes? Corey Perry? So many options to choose from.”

“Gonna bring up shit that doesn’t mean anything?” The man snaps.

You lean halfway out of your seat, getting a little louder, “your team sucks ass from top to bottom.”

“Suck my dick, bitch.”

Alexa coughs into her drink and you shrug at the man, shouting, “at least I’m supporting a team that hasn’t been sued twice for covering up sexual assault.”

“Oh my god,” Alexa mutters, covering her face.

“Fuck off, bitch,” a second man, sitting next to the first, shouts at you.

With a little three fingered wave at the men, you turn back to the ice, settling into your seat. “Oh, I love when men can only think to call me a bitch in the face of actual facts,” you sigh, heartbeat still pounding from Mat’s fight and the confrontation.

A few Chicago fans in the general vicinity are looking at you, booing and flipping you off. You return the gestures happily, with a sarcastic smile on your face.

“You’re batshit insane,” Alexa says, looking impressed and a little awed. “I’m terrified of you.”

You knock her shoulder with yours and tease, “as long as you love me more than you’re terrified of me.”

“Jury’s still out,” she snorts.

The game ends in tragic fashion during overtime, but you’re still so proud of Mat, buzzing with energy to see him when he gets back to the hotel. You and Alexa had booked a room in the same hotel the boys were staying at, spontaneously deciding to take the trip to see the boys play since neither of you had been to Chicago. The team flies back to Long Island tomorrow afternoon and your flight leaves just a few hours later, so you’ve got a few hours with Mat tonight before you have to go back to your own rooms, knowing he’ll have left packing to the last possible second.

Alexa’s lounging on her bed, scrolling through her phone, when there’s a knock on the door. You jump up from your spot on your bed and rush to the door, yanking it open and nearly knocking Noah out of the way in your hurry to jump into Mat’s arms. He laughs and catches you easily, wrapping his arms around your lower back as your legs hook around his waist.

“First career fight?” You grin at him, peppering his face with kisses. “So fucking hot, baby.”

“Y’know,” Noah comments dryly from behind you, “I had assists on two of our goals.”

You turn your head and grin at him, “you want a kiss too?” Mat’s hands grope at your ass, pulling you tighter over the growing bulge in his jeans. You wriggle happily over him, enjoying the low groan that vibrates against your shoulder.

“Not from you,” Noah laughs, dropping a kiss to the top of Alexa’s head. She snuggles up against his side and laughs a little.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says, “before these two forget they’re not alone.” Shooting you a wink, she grabs Noah’s hand and drags him out of the room, the door falling shut behind them.

“Thank god,” Mat huffs, leaning his forehead against your collarbone. You kiss the top of his head, rubbing your fingertips into his scalp. “I’ve been waiting to see you all night.”

“Well you’ve got me for the next few hours, completely uninterrupted,” you reply, holding onto him like a koala. “Let me see your face, I need to make sure no damage was done.”

Mat pulls away from you, grinning that crooked grin you love so much. He looks a little tired, but the only damage from the fight is a cut on the bridge of his nose and a little cut on his forehead. Not nearly as bad as you were thinking. “Do I pass inspection?” He teases, bouncing you a little in his arms.

You hum, “you’ll do,” before kissing the tip of his nose and then slanting your lips over his. Mat deepens the kiss, licking over your lower lip so your mouth will fall open. You groan into his mouth, grinding your hips down over his erection. The kiss is a little frantic, all teeth and tongue, and you’re out of breath when you break apart. “Put me down, I wanna reward you,” you pant, unhooking your legs from around his waist and letting them fall to the floor.

“What?” Mat’s mouth is back on yours, arms still wrapped tightly around your back, your chest pressed to his. You wiggle against him, grinding your hips over his, more than happy to feel him harden under you.

“Wanna - mmmph-“ your words are muffled by Mat’s mouth, captured by his lips and tongue. You pull back with a huge effort, palms flat on his shoulders for leverage. “Wanna suck you off,” you murmur, Mat’s hands trailing up the back of your shirt, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip and tugging at it.

“Yeah?” Mat asks, eyelids heavy over his eyes. He shifts and wedges his leg in between yours, pressing his muscled thigh right up against your throbbing cunt. You whine and your hips move over his leg, the seam of your jeans pressed exactly where you need it. “Wanna suck my dick, baby? What if I wanna watch you get off on my thigh?”

“C’mon, Mat,” your voice comes out breathy, “been wanting to suck you off since you fought. I’ve been soaked thinking about it.” You grind over his thigh as you plead, knowing you’ve won the upper hand when Mat’s fingers dip below the waistband of your jeans to squeeze your ass.

He sucks a mark into the skin behind your ear and you sigh. “Me fighting got you all hot and bothered?” He asks the question against your skin, brushing his nose against your earlobe and you nod.

“Beyond fucking hot, Mat,” you scratch your nails against the nape of his neck. “Glad I got to see it.”

You wiggle again and a little whine forms in the back of your throat. Mat’s mouth curls into a smile against your neck. “Love it when you beg,” he says, a little hoarse. “My girl is begging to suck my cock, what’s fucking better than that?”

“Actually letting me suck your cock,” you gasp, Mat’s fingers digging harder into the flesh of your ass. “Let me, Mat, c’mon.”

He finally shifts his leg, planting his feet solidly, and you grin, breaking from his grip and falling to your knees in front of him. You’re eye level with the bulge behind the fly of his jeans and you grin up at him wickedly. You run your fingertips lightly over his zipper and feel his cock throbbing through the denim. “Can’t wait to get my mouth on you,” you smirk, fingers working at the button and zipper, pushing at the denim until you can trace your index finger over the imprint of his dick through the fabric of his briefs.

“Fuck!” Mat’s hips buck forward and he grabs at your hair with one hand, tangling his fingers in the strands. His cock twitches behind the fabric and you push his jeans and briefs halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock so it bobs up towards his stomach. You lean up on your knees to press a kiss to the head of his cock and Mat groans, grip on your hair tightening. “Baby, babe, please, don’t tease me,” he babbles, hips thrusting minutely.

“It’s a reward,” you grin up at him, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and squeezing slightly, “for fighting. Going to take my time with you.”

Your hand strokes him slowly, palm rubbing against his tip, gathering pre-cum and smearing it down his shaft. His cock throbs in your hand, in time with the way your clit throbs as you touch him. You shift on your knees, pressing the heel of your foot in between your legs and Mat doesn’t miss the movement.

“Going to get off just by touching my dick?” He teases, widening his stance and leaning his upper back against the wall. You hum, focused on getting him fully hard. It doesn’t take much work and within seconds, he’s like hot steel in your hand.

“We’ll just have to see,” you murmur, leaning in and taking the head of his cock into your mouth. A strangled moan leaves Mat’s lips and his hips start to thrust, forcing you to press both of your hands against his hips to keep him in place. You hum around him and swirl your tongue over his slit, enjoying the way he’s babbling your name over your head. He groans, the noise choking off as you take him deeper into your mouth, keeping your lips wrapped tightly around him.

Your nails rake over his skin, fingers sliding over the ridge of bone and then the smooth skin of his lower stomach, until you’re able to rub your fingertips through the light trail of hair under his belly button. You wrap one hand around the base of his cock and take him deeper, swallowing and enjoying the way Mat’s cock bobs in your mouth.

“Baby, come on,” Mat mumbles, “gotta go deeper. Let me fuck your throat. Wanna feel you swallow me.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, tears hovering at your waterline from the stretch of your jaw, and blink innocently at him. Your throat relaxes and he grins, looking a little dazed, when he realizes you’re giving him permission. His other hand comes up to cradle your face, releasing your hair with the other hand so he can hold your face in place while he thrusts his hips forward, sliding his cock deeper down your throat with each movement. The head of his cock bumps against the roof of your mouth, the back of your throat, slides against your tongue with his erratic thrusts.

Saliva drips down your chin, tears rolling down your cheeks. Mascara streaks down your face, stinging your eyes a little.

Mat’s head is dropped back as he rolls his hips, his mouth running constantly. You’re not even sure what he’s saying at this point, too focused on keeping your throat relaxed and not gagging around his thick length. Your hands grip at his ass, nails digging into his skin and he hisses, practically whining when you swallow and your throat tightens around his cock.

“Fuck, fuck. Jesus Christ, fuck me,” he groans. “Love how you look with my dick in your mouth, look so pretty.”

You moan around him, lifting up a little on your knees and leaning in, deep throating him until your nose is pressed against his skin, your chin tucked up against his balls. His scent - a little bit soapy, a little bit sweaty - invades your senses and you feel your panties dampen further. You shake your head a little, brushing the tip of your nose against his skin and Mat’s fingers tighten on your face, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.

“Gonna come, baby, gotta -“ he mutters, choking off. He leans his hips back a little, trying to pull out of your mouth, but you hold onto his ass, pulling him closer to your face. Mat grunts, his balls tightening under your chin before he comes down your throat, hot and thick.

You swallow for what feels like forever, Mat’s cock still thick and hard in your mouth. He finally pulls back and you drop down to sit on your heels, wiping at your mouth. Saliva and cum make your chin and hands sticky, but you grin cheekily up at your boyfriend. He looks wrecked, jaw slack and eyes nearly closed.

“Didn’t manage to come just from sucking you off,” you rasp, throat sore and voice hoarse. You reach up to gently stroke over his cock and he leans his hips forward, pushing into your grip.

“Bet that sweet pussy of yours is soaked for me, huh?” Mat says, reaching out to wrap his hands around your biceps and haul you to your feel, your hand falling away from his cock. With his grip on your arms, Mat crushes you to his chest, kissing you sloppily. His cock presses against your stomach, half-hard, and you press against it, making Mat groan into your mouth before he sucks on your tongue.

You hum against his mouth, melting against Mat’s chest. Your clit throbs and you clench around nothing, desperate for a little friction. “Mat,” you gasp his name a little and he knows exactly what you want. His hands slide up your arms and wrap gently around your neck and the back of your head, keeping your face close to his so he can kiss you while walking you backwards to the bed.

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth. You can feel his body vibrating with adrenaline and once the backs of your knees hit the mattress, Mat pulls back to quickly get rid of his clothes, kicking the fabric in all different directions with a a hungry look in his eyes that makes you giggle. Mat grins down at you and leans over your body, pressing his bare chest against your clothed one. “Regular post-game energy has nothing on post-fight energy,” he promises, nipping at your pulse point.

You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and roll your hips, pressing your cunt against his cock. “I can’t wait to find out,” you murmur, arching your back when his hands slide up your shirt to grope at your tits.

Just about an hour later, you roll off of Mat’s chest, sweating and panting like you’ve just run a marathon. “Fuck,” you breathe, thighs sticky and trembling.

Mat turns his head and gives you a lazy smirk, “told you.”

You kick a little at his ankle, shifting and shaking your head at the way your core is clenching around nothing, the feeling of Mat’s cock stuffed inside of you still present. “You need to get into fights more often,” you mumble, watching him wince as he pulls the used condom off of his dick. He twists a knot into the latex and rolls off the other side of the bed to pad into the bathroom. You blatantly stare at his ass, wolf-whistling when he bends slightly to toss the condom.

“I’m feeling very objectified,” Mat teases you, standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips. He tries to keep a straight face, but can’t help his lips from turning up at the corners. You drag your gaze over his body, from the top of his head, over his bare chest complete with chain resting against his collarbone, down to his dick hanging between his legs, and back up.

“Mmm,” you hum, still flat on your back, still shaking slightly. “It’s not my fault you’re so objectifiable. Maybe if you were uglier…”

You trail off into a shriek, body jostling when Mat pounces on the bed, covering your body with his and planting sloppy, wet kisses on every inch of your skin he can reach. “Nooo, stop! Oh my god, you know I’m ticklish,” you shriek-giggle, pushing at Mat’s shoulders, trying to wiggle out from under him. He keeps you caged in with his arms and legs, laughing.

“Gonna keep objectifying me, Squeaks?” He asks, marking you up with hickies across your neck and chest.

“Yessss,” you laugh, pressing your chest into his face. “It’s my favorite hobby.” You hook your leg around his hip and dig your heel into the muscle of his ass, getting him to thrust his pelvis forward, bumping against your clit. A spark of pleasure lights up your nerves.

“Cool,” he laughs, flicking his tongue over your nipple. “You can keep doing it after we get some food, I’m starving.” He bites at the underside of your breast and rolls off of you again, leaving you cold in the middle of the bed.

“What?” You sit up, watching him reach for his pants and dig his phone out of the pocket.

“We had like one slice of shitty Chicago pizza after the game,” Mat explains. “And then we rolled around in bed for an hour. I’m starving, babe.”

You’re about to complain, but as soon as you open your mouth, your stomach growls and Mat smirks at you. You huff, “okay, yeah. Let’s order some dinner.”

He turns back to his phone, tapping away at UberEats, and you flop back against the pillows, grabbing for your own phone where it rests on the bedside table. Once you’re settled, you rest your feet in Mat’s lap, his left hand landing on your ankle and thumb tracing an arc over your instep. You wiggle your toes and he pinches lightly at your skin. “What do you want?”

“Mozzarella sticks,” you say absently, gaze flickering onto your lock screen. It’s covered in notifications - the girls’ group chat, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok. What the hell is going on?

Another message comes in from Sydney, making your phone vibrate in your hand. Since you don’t have a password on your phone, you can see her message on the screen: she’s going to be banned from the arena 😂

Who’s going to be banned from the arena?

You tap open the group chat and scroll back to the top where the messages started half an hour ago. Holly sent a Twitter link followed by: our girl! 😂

A sinking feeling forms in your stomach, but you tap on the link, unsurprised when it opens up to a video. A video of you, just a few hours earlier, yelling at the game.

“Oh man,” you groan, watching yourself - filmed from an unflattering angle, of course - jumping and cheering for Mat, before turning and snapping at the Blackhawks fan.

“No mozzarella sticks?” Mat asks, mistaking what you had said as directed at him. He’s still scrolling through UberEats.

“No, um, yes,” you shake your head, looking up. “I do still want mozzarella sticks, but…”

You tap on the hashtag and start scrolling through Tweets, even as texts from the girls continue to roll in. The video is everywhere - Spittin’ Chiclets, B/R Open Ice, Barstool Sports. Fuck, even Frankie’s retweeted it, adding his typical all-caps word vomit captions: GOTTA GO THROUGH THE ISLAND OUR FANS ARE GREATER THAN ANYONE ELSE ANS READY TO GIVE YOU A VERBAL BITCH SLAP LOVE YOU LADY B

You roll your eyes at his caption, pulling the notification screen down and checking to see if he texted you too. He did - a string of cry-laughing emojis and clapping emojis.

“But what?” Mat finally drops his phone to the mattress and leans back on an elbow to look at you. “What are you looking at?”

You squint at him. “Have you not gotten any texts or notifications?” You ask, surprised that the guys’ group chat isn’t blowing up.

“Probably,” Mat shrugs, “my phone’s been on do not disturb since before my nap this afternoon. I wasn’t really thinking about looking. Why?”

You flip your phone around, showing him the screen. Mat squints at it, watching the video play for a few seconds before he lets out a chuckle of disbelief. “Is that you, Squeaks?”

“Yep,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I, um, got a little heated when you fought. Is Lou going to kill me?”

Mat’s got your phone in his hand now, scrolling through the Tweets and laughing. “No way, you don’t work for him. I don’t think he knows what Twitter is anyway.” He keeps scrolling. “Oh shit!”

“What?” You lunge forward and snatch at your phone. Mat pulls it back and clicks his tongue at you.

“Jeez, you gonna yell at me now too?” He jokes before reading the caption of a Tweet. “Listen to this ‘trashy Long Island fan berates Blackhawks fan.’ Babe, you freaked on the wrong fanbase.”

“I’m trashy?” You yelp indignantly. “Me? They’re the fans that are supporting an organization FULL of sexual abusers! Give me my phone, I want to defend myself.”

“No way!” Mat holds your phone in the air away from you. “Why expose yourself to more shit?”

“Because I’m not the one in the wrong here,” you grumble. “What are the guys saying? Does anyone know who I am? I mean, I wasn’t quiet about cheering for you.”

With your phone still in his hand, Mat picks up his own and taps over to the messages. “Oh, damn. Almost fifty texts from the guys.” He chuckles as he scrolls through them, reading you off the best ones. “Bo says to suit up for next game, we could use your passion. Dobber says two minutes in the box for unsportsmanlike conduct. Ah, nice, Frankie says pizzas are on him next time we’re at Borrelli’s.”

“Pizzas are always on Frankie,” you grumble, draping yourself over Mat’s back to read his phone screen over his shoulder. The guys are mostly sending more videos from different angles and chirping you. While Mat’s distracted by the group chat, you snatch your phone back, returning to Twitter where the fans have figured out your connection to Mat - it’s not like your relationship is a secret, your Twitter is public and your Instagram switches back and forth between public and private when you’re starting to feel overwhelmed - but you don’t love that you’re getting this kind of attention.

You really should’ve controlled yourself better. But you didn’t and now you’re scrolling through hundreds of Tweets that are calling you Long Island trash. There are others mixed in that are supporting you, cheering you on for being a loyal fan and girlfriend, but jeez. The Chicago fans really are kind of nasty.

“Stop looking at that,” Mat plucks the phone from your hands when he sees your forehead crease and wrinkle over your nose. “Are we gonna have to delete your account like Dobber?”

“No,” you huff, chest flushing with emotion. “I just…I should’ve been a little more controlled, but I got so worked up!”

Mat cups your cheek and grins at you, “I like when you’re worked up. It’ll blow over in a few days, but for now, it’s really fucking cool that my girlfriend is so passionate about me fighting.”

You wrinkle your nose up at him and he laughs again, “seriously, don’t worry about it.” He frowns a little. “Fans’ll be talking about our game again by tomorrow. We’re fucking it all up.”

Pressing your cheek against Mat’s shoulder blade, you wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, Mat. I know you guys are working so hard, things will turn around soon, I’m sure.” You press a kiss to his skin, blowing a little raspberry. “Want your trashy Long Island girlfriend to give you another blowjob?”

That draws a laugh from Mat, exactly what you wanted to do, and he reaches back to rub his fingers over your scalp, massaging gently. He waves his phone in the air, “think you can do it before dinner gets here?”

A challenge.

You grin against his back, hands sliding down his stomach to wrap around the base of his cock. He jolts in your grip, stomach muscles bunching. “Place the order and we’ll see,” you mumble against his back, kissing and biting at his shoulder. His arm moves and you can see over his shoulder that he’s pressing the order button.

“Time starts now,” Mat teases, leaning back against you and giving you more access for your hands to stroke him.

You just barely manage to bring Mat to his finish before his phone chimes with the delivery notification, but it’s intensely satisfying to watch him yank on the hotel robe and slippers with his face and chest all flushed before he runs down to the lobby. You take the time that he’s gone to clean yourself up, showering quickly before getting into your lounge pants. By the time you eat and hang out for a bit, Mat’s going to have to go back to his own room, so you’re trying to curb the temptation to go another round.

Your phone is still going crazy with notifications and when you open Instagram, you notice that Mat’s shared a story. Immediately suspicious, you tap on his little circle, groaning when you see the video of you shouting. He must’ve shared it while he was in the elevator, the fucking menace.

Underneath the reshared video, Mat added his own comment: my favorite trashy long islander 👊🏻💪🏻😂

You swipe up and tap out a reply: i hate you

“Love you too, Oscar,” Mat’s voice echoes through the room. You look up and there he is, carrying the bag of takeout.

“Oscar?”

“Like the Grouch? You know, because he lives in a trash can,” Mat’s grin is shit-eating, “and you’re trashy.”

You fling a pillow at him and he ducks, cracking up. “I’m sorry!” He chokes out, not sorry at all. “But it’s hilarious. Video gets funnier the more you watch and some of those people on Twitter really are quick with the comments.”

“I’m never coming to another game again, Mathew,” you inform him, faux-snootily. He hands you over the foil tin of mozzarella sticks.

“Yeah you are,” he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’d never forgive yourself if you missed me fight again.” He wiggles his eyebrows and takes a bite out of one of your mozzarella sticks.

He’s right and he knows it.

“I’m going to have to private my insta again,” you comment on a sigh, looking down at the notifications piling up.

“You’re gonna be old news in a day or two,” Mat replies. “Something else will happen at a different game and hockey twitter will move on.”

By the time you land in New York the next afternoon, Mat’s right. You’re old news because the team’s fired Lane and hired Patrick Roy as their new coach.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #nhl fic

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seeingivy · 1 year

Text

the time of your life

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here

content: character death (LOL), very immature fifteen year old humor (that was cross confirmed with real fifteen year olds), idk reader and eren being mad corny

an: tried my best to make this chapter fun but I will just POST WHAT I HAVE BUT THE NEXT ONE IS ONE OF MY FAVS IM SO EXCITED

previous part linked here

Things settle down after the panel, and Eren convinces you to put all your energy into finishing the season. Because you’re going to prove them wrong and now you just have to do it. And as much effort as you put in, the rest of them all make it fun too.

And Eren’s right.

They really are great - funny, charismatic, and idiotic in their own ways.

The inside jokes start one week after filming when you’ve finally learned everyone’s names. And, of course, it starts with Reiner. You and Historia are so tired after filming that you quickly run back to the townhouse just to get snacks from the main kitchen. With the mention of food, Sasha’s following, and then Connie, suddenly, everyone’s marching back together.

Except when you get there, Reiner is in the kitchen. Not only is he shirtless, but he’s also doing some next-level opera singing. For some reason, he’s trying to sing both parts of the Phantom of the Opera and… actually succeeding?

Connie leans over, whispering.

“Look at those mommy milkers.”

You all burst out laughing, which stops Reiner in his tracks. And he momentarily stops and scratches his head before he keeps singing, this time serenading all of you. He’s taking Ymir by the hand and swinging her around and holding hands with Jean as they rock back and forth that even Mikasa’s snorting at the sight of him. You're all sold after that.

Speaking of Mikasa, as solemn and quiet as she can be, she’s gotten you into quite a bit of trouble. Trouble meaning severe back pain. When she first moved into your room, she mentioned that she was a bit of an early riser. She likes to work out to get her blood moving before shooting, claiming that “it gets her in the zone.”

Somehow, she convinces you and Sasha to join her one morning, and by the end of it, Jean and Marco are dragging you both back to the house by your legs, having to shove the two of you in an ice bath.

You just didn’t realize that an early riser meant four in the morning, and working out means an all-intensive full-body press. Levi’s pissed at you and Sasha for being stupid enough to think you could keep up and you’re both mad at Levi for having such little faith in you.

In true dad fashion, Levi’s always lecturing you guys. More like pretending to be mad, berating you around the set. But you know that he cares because the second that you guys ask him for something, no matter how stupid it is, he’ll be the first to give in.

Exhibit A? Marco and Jean recently find out that Levi became a triple threat from doing his own stunts on Bond - including a quadruple flip. They’re both so intrigued by it that every time they see Levi, they force him to do it.

“Levi.”

“No, Marco. I’m not going to do a flip.”

“Do a flip! Levi, please please please please please do a flip. It’s just so fucking cool.”

“Watch your language, Jean. You need to wash your mouth out with soap.”

“I won’t say fuck for a week if you flip, Levi. Please!” Jean says, shaking Levi’s hands as he talks.

Levi begrudgingly rolls his eyes and then backflips in the living room, earning half hearted cheers. It was cool the first eleven times, but Jean literally asks him to do it daily. It gets old fast.

“That was so fucking cool, Levi! Thanks.” Jean says, running off. He bumps into Sasha, who's clearly going to throw up as she runs past.

Levi’s sick and tired of Jean. And Hange too. And himself for thinking that filming with a bunch of teenagers was going to be a good idea.

After finding out that Sasha will quite literally eat anything you put in front of her, Hange’s started a dangerously horrible game of seeing what Sasha will eat without paying attention to it.

Ketchup on watermelon, ice cream with salt in it, cake with mayo. It’s become so disgusting that you can’t tell who people are more grossed out with - Hange for making the concoction or Sasha for eating it. (It’s Sasha)

Armin’s taken maybe twenty before and after pictures of Sasha during these “experiments” that Hange runs and then sticks them onto the kitchen wall - perfectly labeled with the food Sasha ate underneath them.

And he loves taking pictures so much that there’s now a big wall at the front of the set of just individual and group pictures, Armin’s little pictures and commentary tacked to the wall.

One of Jean and Sasha playing video games, labeled “the great war”

Another one of Ymir and Bertholdt tackling each other, labeled “ice cream gate”

And one of Eren pinching your cheek, labeled “the l/n-jaegers”

Right. In another life, you’re all convinced that Connie was destined to work for the paparazzi. Because every time you and Eren are together, he somehow manages to capture a picture at the worst time - making something innocent look like totally not.

Like when you and Eren share a blanket on set because there’s only one left. Or when he helps you put the harnesses on and his hands are around your waist for two seconds . When you guys share the breakfast burritos on set because they’re too big to eat alone. With context, they’re not that bad.

But Connie always catches it at the worst time and then posts it to his fucking TikTok account. His stupid series has garnered millions of views, and you’ve both tried to convince him to stop, to which he refuses

And when you tried to get Erwin involved, he only supported Connie more - stating it was good press for the show. He’s named the series “the l/n-jaegers” hence the label on the polaroid.

There’s currently 32 different parts.

But you know you can’t stop him even if you tried because Connie proves to be the most menacing idiot on set. Him and Annie have developed a horrible habit of pranking everyone on around - Levi, Hange, and Erwin specifically. It’s not that Annie loves pranks, she’s just the only one who can keep a straight face.

“Hey Hange.”

“What’s up, Annie?”

“There’s this guy who works in hair and makeup. He has a few ideas for the Female Titan costume design. He wants to talk to you.”

“Oh. What’s his name?”

“Ben Dover.” responds Connie, the look on his and Annie’s faces blank.

“Ben Dover?” Hange repeats the rest of you, trying you shoving your faces into the script to stop laughing as they respond.

“Yeah. They said they’ve talked to Erwin before. He’s been working with Hugh Jass, on the makeup team.” says Annie.

Erwin walks over, the look on his face confused. And it just gets worse.

“Who is Hugh Jass? I’ve never seen him before.”

“Oh, he’s hard to miss. Really big guy,” responds Connie, his face breaking a little.

Levi walks over, and when Annie talks again, it’s the final nail in the coffin. You and Eren are literally smacking your hands over each other's mouths, the tears spilling out of your eyes to not give them away.

“Okay, we’ll go over there now. Thanks for telling us Annie, Connie.”

“Cool! They’re waiting with Ben Overbich.”

“What?”

“Ben Overbich. It’s Swedish, sir.” Annie responds.

Levi shrugs as he, Hange, and Erwin walk off to go to talk to the costume designers. And when they all walk away, you’re all panting on the floor, gasping for breath. Connie keeps mimicking Erwin, saying Hugh Jass, and Berholdt keeps quoting it’s Swedish sir, which doesn’t make it any better.

When they return, Levi and Erwin are all yanking you by the ears onto the set since the costume team told them what the jokes actually meant. And there’s something so presidential about Erwin naturally that when he starts lecturing you, it starts feeling like he’s giving a sermon.

“You guys are premier faces in the industry. Imagine how people would feel if they found out you were making crude jokes like you were fifteen years old.”

“Sir.”

“Yes, Ymir.”

“We are fifteen years old.”

You’re all snickering as Erwin continues, Hange rolling their eyes as he goes on.

“You should know better. Ben Dover is not a funny joke. Huge asses are nothing to laugh about. You should wish to have that type of issue.”

Jean leans over, whispering in yours and Eren’s ear.

“The divine truths of humanity.”

You laugh and Erwin stares you down, Eren smacking you for laughing out loud.

“Y/N. Up.”

You groan as stand next to him, the lot of them laughing at you, as Erwin stares you down.

“Erwin.”

“Y/N. What did you learn in class yesterday?”

“Uh. States and capitals?”

“Perfect. Name them all.”

You groan. Of course, you get stuck with Erwin and his weird punishments. He always quizzes you guys on random stuff from your classes when you take too long on set or are late to a table read. And you’re usually free from that, but Jean’s stupid comment got you.

“Uh. Okay. California is Los Angeles.”

“Wrong. It’s Sacramento.”

“I’m Canadian, Erwin. This isn’t even fair.”

He shakes his head dismissively as you keep going, literally getting every single one wrong. And when you reach the fifth incorrect state, Eren takes his stand, helping you with the rest of them.

“Eren. No one asked you if you knew the states and capitals.” Erwin says, pinching both of your ears as they all laugh.

“Can’t leave my girl hanging here.”

“Your girl?” repeats Connie and the rest of them widen their eyes, leaving you and Eren to be met with a bunch of “oohs” and “aahs”

Which only flusters Eren even more. And makes your cheeks burn.

“That’s-that’s not what I meant! It’s because we’re co-stars! Like the leads, that’s why she’s my girl! Not any weird reason.” Eren stammers, the tips of his ears pink and his eyes not meeting yours.

No one believes him.

“Eren.”

“Hm.”

“Hot sauce.”

He leans over in the chair, opening the packet of hot sauce and handing it to you. The crew got breakfast burritos again , meaning you and Eren were slouched up in your chairs eating. The scene that was being filmed was primarily a scene for Jean and Marco, but you and Eren always love to watch everyone else act.

There’s something about the energy on set - Levi directing everyone around, everyone getting in the zone that gets you excited. All jittery and nervous and thrilled that people are going to see this amazing thing that is airing in a few weeks.

You hand Eren the burrito and he instinctively reaches forward, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. His green eyes focused on your lips and you can feel your heart rising into your throat.

“Eren.”

He looks up, right into your eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, my bad. You had some sauce on your lip.”

And then he takes the excess sauce and licks it off his finger.

“Did you just-”

“Y/N, be quiet. They’re starting.”

You try your best to focus on the scene but all you can think about is yours and Eren’s knees bumping against each other, your fingers brushing across as you share the food, and Eren licking the sauce off of his finger. You try to brush it off as you lean over and whisper into his space.

“What scene is this, Eren?”

“Don’t remember. I was so busy trying to check my own lines I forgot to read ahead.”

You nod as Eren scoots closer, the two of you leaning forward as you start paying attention to the scene. Jeans walks closer and that’s when you realize it - Marco leaning against the wall, all charred and slumped over.

“Hey. Are you…. Marco?” Jean whispers, his voice shaking.

Eren instinctively reaches for your hand, crushing it in his hold. You look over to find Sasha and Bertholdt giving you the same confused looks as you all keep watching, Jean acting on. It seems like no one read the scene before watching it.

Jean’s a good actor. Such a good actor that you think he’s actually crying, that his voice is actually wavering. And that’s when you realize it.

Marco just died.

Your mind is running at a million miles per hour. Does that mean he’s leaving? He’s not going to be in the show anymore? You guys were all supposed to spend four or five years together filming together, but how is that fair if he’s already dead? That isn’t even an entire season-

Eren’s squeezing your hand into oblivion as the tears are falling out of his eyes, his face looking all types of broken as you glance over.

“Member of the 104th Cadet Corps and Captain of Squad 19… Marco Bodt.”

The director calls cut and the crew starts moving around, Jean helping Marco up from the ground as he brushes the tears out of his eyes. And when you catch sight of Erwin, you’re blazing fire angry. And it seems like you’re not the only one, because Ymir and Mikasa are following your suit.

“Erwin. What the hell?” you say.

Erwin and Levi look down at the three of you, confused.

“You can’t just kill Marco! That’s not fair, the show hasn’t even started yet and you already killed him off.” Reiner says, crossing his arms.

“Erwin. Cut it out of the show. You can’t do this.” Mikasa responds, glaring at him.

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose as he bends down, Erwin joining him so you’re all level heights. For some reason, angry tears are building in your eyes and your chest is burning, because…you miss Marco. And he’s not even gone yet. And it’s not fair that he died so soon and his character is all but sweet, so why does he have to die and-

Levi places his hands on yours and Reiner’s shoulders as he talks, his voice soft.

“Are you guys upset that he’s going to be leaving?”

You all nod, the tears finally flowing out of your eyes and streaming down. You can see that Reiner’s crying too, Mikasa swallowing her own tears.

“Yeah. Erwin, Levi he’s our friend. And I’ve never really had friends like this and I don’t want him to go away and-” you choke out, stammering on your words.

Levi squeezes your shoulder as you hiccup and Erwin leans forward to press all three of you in a hug. Levi’s hands are in your hair, whispering something under his breath about how you’re all sweet kids.

They both let you go and you look over to find Marco, still in his death makeup, hugging Eren, who has tears streaming down his eyes too. And when you walk over, Marco opens up his other arm, you and Eren and Jean and almost everyone crushing him into a hug, the discomfort sitting in your chest.

As you all trail back to the townhouse after set, quiet for once, you’re all milling around the main room, aimlessly. You and Armin are playing a very underwhelming game of Uno, Reiner and Marco half-assedly playing Mario Kart, and Mikasa’s teaching Ymir how to braid her hair.

Hange walks in and plops down between you and Armin, the polaroid camera in her hand.

“Hey, you guys.”

“Hi Hange.” you both mutter, flipping the cards down.

“Got an idea. You know, this shows kind of… dramatic . A lot more of the characters are going to die, but it doesn’t have to be a sad thing.”

“It is sad. That means Marco’s leaving and we won’t see him anymore.” you say, boring your eyes into Hange’s.

They lean forward to pinch your cheek, softly laughing as they continue talking.

“You’re so sweet. He’ll be back to film other scenes, yeah? And you’ll definitely see him again.”

You both nod, agreeing with Hange. They hand the camera to Armin, whispering the plan in his ears and then duck out of the hallway. And when you and Armin have everything you need - the industrial box of Rocky Road ice cream and the camera - you head to the center of the room, Armin standing on the couch to get everyone’s attention.

“When you fall off, I’m going to fucking laugh at you, Arlert.” says Ymir, looking up from braiding Sasha’s hair.

“Shut up, Ymir. Listen, we should make a deal. Every time a character dies, we all eat ice cream. Play games, stay up late, and then at the end of the night we’ll add their picture to the wall. So we don’t forget them . Like, one last hurrah or whatever. ” Armin says.

“You sound like Hange.” Annie mutters, flicking Reiner in the forehead.

“It was their idea. But we should. If Marco’s leaving in a few days, I want to spend all the time I can with him, having fun and-”

“Yeah. I want to.” says Marco, which has almost all of you agreeing.

You and Armin start by opening the tub of ice cream, all eleven of you refusing to get bowls and instead leaning over, bumping heads as you eat.

“Eren. Move your big head.”

“Shut the fuck up Connie. Your bald head is bigger than mine.”

You all start snickering as the two of them argue, smacking each other and rolling off the couch. And when Marco suggests that you play truth or dare, you all start nervously giggling as you go around the circle, all jittery from the sugar in the ice cream.

Reiner asks Connie to share the last dream that he had, which he begrudgingly shares is that he kissed Ymir. Ymir is thoroughly disgusted. Historia gets dared to call Erwin dad by accident, which just leads to Erwin giving Historia a lecture about how he appreciates that she can see him as a father figure and that he is already very proud of all of the work Historia has put in.

Bertholdt has to eat a spoonful of mayo, which he consequently throws up and Armin gets dared to steal something from the set. He takes Levi’s coffee cup and hides it in the storage room, which he is sure to get an earful for later.

“Eren. Truth or Dare?” Connie asks.

“Dare.”

“Kiss your favorite person in the room on the cheek.”

They all start giggling as they stare you down, your cheeks burning at the thought of Eren pressing his lips to yours. Connie and Bertholdt are making kissy faces at you, Ymir and Annie leaning over to pinch your cheeks.

And you brace yourself, for when Eren’s going to press his lips into your skin. Except he doesn’t. He leans over and kisses Armin on the cheek and you try your best to hide your…disappointment? Sadness? But that’s on you.

Why would you assume you’re Eren’s favorite person on set?

Everyone boos at Eren for picking a copout answer and you pretend not to be offended as you keep playing the game. And on hour two of playing, Levi comes and yells at you all to shut the fuck up and go to bed , which leads to Armin taking the picture of Marco - all cheesing and smiley and tacking it to the wall. Connie takes a sharpie and labels the wall “fly high angel” to mark the occasion.

Except his dumbass writes angle instead of angel.

You all shuffle back to your rooms, giggling and laughing, and you and Eren giving each other a smile as you switch into your respective rooms.

You hear a knock on your door and instantly jump up, ready to duck out of set to go get slushies with Eren. Except when you swing the door open, Jean’s standing at your store instead of Eren.

“Oh. Hi Jean.”

“Hi…is-”

“She’s in the shower. You’re welcome to wait for her here if you’d like?”

You swing the door open and he flops onto Mikasa’s bed, watching your fan spin around on the ceiling.

You’re not sure what it is or why Jean and Mikasa are assuaged from the barrage of teasing and cooing that you and Eren get whenever you’re around each other, because you’re almost a thousand percent sure that the two of them are worse than you and Eren.

Because they actually like each other. You’ve often come home from filming or playing games with Bertholdt and Historia to find the two of them sitting on the floor, holding hands while watching a movie. Or Jean giving Mikasa bracelets or telling her that he thinks she’s really pretty.

Maybe they’re not paying attention and that the only person who knows is you. Or maybe it’s because they don’t turn red or deny their feelings, because they actually like each other. You and Eren aren’t like that, because in earnest, you two really are just friends.

“You okay? Your room must be pretty empty.”

Marco moved out earlier today. Not a single dry eye in the room.

“Yeah, that’s kinda why I came. Sometimes it just feels kind of lonely, but I think Levi and Erwin might move someone in with me or put me with Connie or something.”

“That’s nice. It’ll be fun to have a roommate.”

He nods, cracking his fingers as the shower runs behind the two of you.

“Hey Jean.”

“Hm.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

You sit up, hopping off your desk chair and onto the bed where Jean was sitting. He’s leaned back against Mikasa’s perfectly propped pillows, lazily swinging the charm of his necklace back and forth on the chain.

“How do you know you like Mikasa?”

He looks up from his chain, giving you an inquisitive look, before answering.

“Dunno. I like being around her. Like, whenever I’m in a room, the person I want to be next to is her. Or the first person I tell good news to and I want her to know like…random things about me. My moms name, my first pet, how I hate my first grade teacher. I just like to share things with her. Like how it feels when I'm with her you know - like...like that's Mikasa. She's my girlfriend."

“Oh. Okay, that makes sense.”

He nods, plopping back down on her pillows and twisting the chain in his hands again.

You halfheartedly nod as Mikasa rolls out of the bathroom, giving you two smiles as she takes the seat next to Jean. You give the two of them a smile as you pad out of the room and straight into Eren and Armin’s across.

“Hi. Mind if I sit? Jean and Mika are-”

“Sure.” Eren says, scooting over on his bed and patting on the sheets.

“Where’s Min?”

“Ah. With Erwin. I think he’s taking the Marco thing kind of hard.”

You nod, shuffling on the bed as Eren shuts his laptop, leaning back onto the headboard.

“Are you okay, Eren? With him being gone?”

“Feels weird. It kind of just makes me nervous for who else will leave us, you know?”

Us.

“Yeah.”

Eren tangles his hand with yours at your side, taking turns cracking each of the knuckles on your fingers.

“Do you ever wonder why they tease us so much? For being friends?”

He angles his head over, the wisps of his brown hair tickling on your forehead.

“Like. Mikasa and Jean really like each other. They’re always holding hands in my room and-”

“What? They like each other?”

“I think so. I don’t know, they’ve never really hid it from me.”

“Well, you’re sweet. You’d never make fun of them for that. I had no idea that they liked each other. They’re probably just not outward with it in front of everyone else.”

“And we aren’t outward with anything. I don’t know, we just act normal and they’re always like saying this stuff about how you and I-”

“Y/N.”

You stop talking as he squeezes your hand three times, almost like a little knock signaling you to stop talking.

“I think they just… don’t get us. You and I are special. I just feel like I’ve known you forever and that we really fit together and I think they can sense that or something. And they think it’s romantic even if it’s not, you know?”

“Yeah.”

He squeezes your hand three more times, the words knocking through your head. Special. Fit together. Not romantic. He leans over, green eyes staring into yours.

“You and me. Always?”

You nod, swallowing hard as you lean back.

“Plus. They can’t kill us off. We’re the main characters.”

You shuffle in your seat as the director yells action, as you look down at Eren, tied up against the post in the middle of the set. You’re filming the scene where Levi is supposed to just kick Eren’s ass in the middle of the court, to prove to the other characters that they can control him and his titan powers.

Except you’re on your fifth take of this scene, Eren getting increasingly frustrated because Levi’s been yelling at him all morning, claiming that he isn’t acting good enough for the scene. Levi’s a bit of a perfectionist, meaning he won’t let anyone leave until the scene is perfect the way he wants it.

Eren especially. You could always tell that Levi was always more fond of Eren than everyone else, but you never thought that would mean Levi would be extra harsh on him. Which is clearly just pissing Eren off today.

“Maybe we should dissect her just in case!”

“Wait. Maybe I am a monster, but she has nothing to do with that! Nothing at all!” Eren screams, his voice straining and his eyes pinching shut as he wrestles against the handcuffs.

“As if we could believe you!”

“It’s a fact!”

“You’re defending her? She must be one of you!”

“No!”

Levi stomps into the middle of the set, leaning down and getting level with Eren. And then he starts yelling at him.

“Eren. You can do so much better than that. You have to give it your all or this isn’t going to work.”

“I am giving it my all. You’ve had me working for five hours now and I-”

“So? You have to get used to that type of time commitment if you want to be the best like you said you did and-”

Eren and Levi keep going back and forth, Hange signaling at you from the back of the set as you both arise from your chairs, leaning down to meet them.

“Levi. Go easy on him, we’ve been-” Hange starts,

“No. He can do better than this and I know he can. He just doesn’t want to. If he would just put in a little effort, it would be better.”

“Levi, maybe you’re being too harsh on him-” you start.

Levi rolls his eyes as he stands up, calling for a break as you unhook Eren from the post. The second you unlock him, he storms off straight off of the set.

“Hange.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you take a longer break from us? I’ll talk to him.”

“I’ll talk to Levi. He just…he knows Eren can be really good. That he has potential. He’s just trying to get him there faster because he wants Eren to do well.”

“I know, Hange.”

You shoot them a smile as you run into the storage closet, yanking out the tandem bike and heading to find Eren.

You kick the rocks in front of you as you hand Eren the slushie, anxiously looking over at him. He’s still radiating anger, from the way his shoulders are tense and how his knuckles are nearly white against the cup. The two of you biked in silence and even the cashier could tell Eren was having some type of fit today.

“Eren.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighs as he leans into your touch, resting his head against your shoulder.

“I just-I’m trying really hard to get it. And Levi’s always just so hard on me, I can’t even tell if I’m doing a good job or if I can do this or-”

You reach down, crushing his hand in your hold, as you respond.

“Eren. You’re doing a really great job. Even Levi thinks that. He just… he knows you’re great and he’s trying to tap into that.”

“I know, it just makes me wonder sometimes if I’m cut out for this. Or that Best Actor savant that I-”

“Eren. You’re going to get it. I know that for a fact. It might not be this season or the next, but you will get it. You’re- you’re literally amazing, I just know you’ll be one of the best of our generation and-”

“You’re just saying that because-”

“I’m not! I really do think that, I- I’d even bet on it for you. You’re the best person for this role and you’re perfect for it and in general too and I just think you should be more confid-”

“Y/N, I-”

“Like really, I think you have the chops to be great. I can’t even believe I have to be your costar because I am infinitely mediocre next to you when you’re just so amazing and already have so many credits and-”

You’re cut off by Eren’s lips on your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to your skin. You reach up to the skin as you look over at him, positively bug eyed.

“You-why would y-”

“The other day. You are my favorite person on set. I just didn’t want them to make fun of us for it.”

“Oh. Right, I-”

“Finish the slushie. We’ll go back after.”

When you return, Eren finishes the scene in one take. And gets Levi’s golden stamp of approval.

When you and Eren film the last scene of the season, on your last day of shooting for a few months, you can’t help but feel a despair in your chest. Everyone else was already long gone, having given your wistful goodbyes and promises of keeping in touch until you come back to (hopefully) film the second season.

Which leaves you, Eren, Erwin, Levi, Hange, and the crew to film the last scene. The backstory of how you and Eren came to be, where he wraps the scarf around your neck.

While you love having everyone else around, it was nice to have a few days of just you and Eren, where you can soak in his company before you have to be apart for a few days. You make ramen together in the mornings, he teaches you how to play video games, and you talk about almost anything and everything in those three days.

And when you go to film the scene, the despair of being apart from him…from your best friend really settles in. You’re sure it makes the scene all the more better.

“It’s cold…. I don’t have anywhere to go home to.” you say.

Eren walks over, his voice uncharacteristically soft, so gentle when he wraps the scarf around your neck that it makes your cheeks burn.

“You can have this. It’s warm, right?”

Grisha walks forward, placing a hand on Eren’s shoulder as he says his line.

“Y/N. You should come live with us. You’ve been through plenty.”

And when you look at Eren, you can feel your heart beating as he says the next lines. And for some reason, this version of Eren feels less like the character Eren and more like the real Eren.

Your Eren. Tandem bikes, slushies, squeezing hands three times Eren.

He reaches forward, squeezing your hand three times like he was reading your fucking mind, as he says the next line. While he acts dismissive, you can see the warmth in his eyes, and it feels like something else. Like he’s trying to hint something at you, tell you something you can’t exactly pick up on.

“Come on. Let’s go back already. To our home.”

And when you squeeze Eren’s hand three times back and trail off out of the shot of the camera, you both smile at each other, Eren turning to face you.

“See you in a few months?”

“Yeah.”

“Call me every day?”

You roll your eyes as you reach over to flick his forehead, to which he pinches the sides of your waist. You squirm out of his hold, the feel of his fingers ticklish as you both laugh.

“Yes, Eren. I’ll call you every day.”

“Okay, good. Don’t forget me when you become famous overnight.”

“You’re so full of shit, Eren. That’s not going to happen.”

You’re totally wrong, for what it’s worth. The first episode of Attack on Titan airs on Friday. You and Eren start trending on Saturday.

next part linked here

taglist: @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @besenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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storiesofsvu · 2 months

Text

Heather Dunbar SFW Alphabet

Heather Dunbar x reader warnings: language, minor flaws, alcohol mentioned, nsfw subject briefly mentioned lol I do NOT know how it happened that I've been writing for Heather for so long and somehow never did this alphabet, so... here we go! It was honestly nice to get back writing for her again!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

We all know Ms Ma’am’s first go to love language is gift giving, she’s busy with work, constantly, and she’s got the money to throw around so it’s very likely that you’ve got fresh flowers on your porch every week, dinner being delivered if she can’t be here and all the luxury items you could ever want. She’s also an acts of service; even if she’s not the one personally doing them, she makes sure someone on her staff is like, picking up your groceries as well as hers kinda thing.

She’s not overly affectionate in public, it’s much more private. She’ll do a quick hug, kiss on the cheek, little peck kinda thing but that’s about it. She’s more than aware that she’s a public figure and prefers to keep her private life private. It’s when you’re at home that she gets softer and she’ll be more touchy/cuddly.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Most of her friendships are going to start through work, or like, a weekly workout class/at the country club kinda thing. I like to think that Heather’s someone who is super polite and friendly to 99% of the people she comes across, especially at first, but she’s really just sitting there waiting for you to slip up. She keeps people at an arms reach until they start to show their true colours and that’s when she’ll either let them in or keep them on a leash.

That being said, once you’re in, you’re in. She’s a solid friend, she’s loyal, trustworthy, and will always have some kind of get together/party/event for you to join her at on the weekends. She’s always only one phone call away if something goes awry on a night out, you have a bad date, or get too drunk. While she might not have the time/effort to come herself, she’ll send someone to make sure you get home safely.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

She’s generally the big spoon, likes to have an arm around you on the couch while watching movies, loves when you lay your head in her lap so she can play with your hair. She’s not *huge* on cuddling, but she enjoys it more than she thought she would, always forgets how much physical touch can actually release endorphins and calm her down.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Has no interest in getting married again, but prefers a secure, long term relationship. She doesn’t have the time or energy to waste on casual dating so when she finds a partner and things actually work out, she’s gonna keep you around.

She’s a fantastic cook and incredible baker. Despite having nannies and a pretty large personal staff, she can do a lot of things from scratch and really enjoys her “me time” in the kitchen, relaxing and getting to just focus on the task at hand instead of everything firing through her brain.

Heather’s space is always tidy, keeping up with clutter was the bane of her existence when the kids were kids until she confined all the toys to the playroom kinda thing. She prefers things have a home and when they’re done being used, they get put back in said home. When it comes to the actual cleaning she’ll do the bare minimum but is pretty busy so a lot of that does end up falling to a housekeeper.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) She’s likely going to do it in person, especially considering she doesn’t really casually date. If it was something more casual, or just a recurring hook up, she’s not afraid to ghost or just shoot of a quick text saying she’s done. It’s super brief, curt and almost professional when she does it, she finds herself almost falling into work mode for things like that to take the edge off/take the emotion completely out of it.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Already been married and doesn’t have any major interest in going back down that road in the future. She knows how much of a legal/financial hassle it can be, knows that even bringing up a prenup sometimes destroys relationships and doesn’t want to have to deal with all of that. She tried it, it didn’t work, why bother trying it again? She absolutely *will* however buy you a fancy ring, a pretty dress and host the year’s best party to celebrate you/your love though. G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Heather’s gentleness is hidden under many layers, especially after years of having to be so cut throat in her industry among so many men. She’s built up these walls through strength, strategy and a bit of cunning and she knows that showing hurt/emotion/weakness at certain times is not optional, so it takes a bit to come out. If she’s had a bad/long/tedious day and comes home right away without decompressing she might end up snapping when she doesn’t mean it. Her alone time before going about anything else is super important to her so she can melt down all those walls and shed that professional personality before shaking it off and greeting you with a smile.

Once that side is gone though, she’s a softie under it all.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Her mom hugs are the absolute best, deep, warm, she’s not gonna let go until you’re ready. Though she’s not a big hugger, esp in public as stated previously. For a greeting/farewell she’s much more likely to kiss you quickly, drop a kiss to the top of your head with a tender shoulder squeeze, or something of the like rather than a full blown hug.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) I think it take a bit for her, we’ve discussed already about her keeping her walls up until she’s absolutely sure and I think that goes for dropping the love bomb as well. While she is absolute fire with words when it comes to the courtroom/political debate/world stage, she struggles a bit with accurately expressing her emotions with words. She’ll feel the blooming in her chest, know that she adores waking up with you, cooking with you and the like, and she’ll likely even know that she’s falling in love but it isn’t coming out right away.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Heather’s definitely the jealous type, and she’s the angry jealous type. She sees you across the room getting hit on and the first tell is that her lips are pursed, her jawline tight and when you do find your way back to her, her responses are short and clipped. This is especially true if she knows you’re doing it *on purpose* because that means you’re being bratty and she is absolutely going to punish you the second you get home. K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Her quick kisses are soft, gentle, a small smile on her cheeks. Her private kisses are passionate, full of fire, dominance, hands tangling into your hair, teeth nipping at your lip, tongue surging into your mouth. She loves how quickly she can turn you to mush by kissing your neck, and absolutely loves to leave marks on your inner thighs where no one else can see them

She’s partial to the way you’ll kiss her collarbone, it’s something no one else has ever really done and that makes it special to the two of you and her love it more. As much as she loves the kinky stuff, it’s how soft and tender you are with her that really melts her heart, so it’s those kind of kisses.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) She’s fantastic with kids. While she always had a nanny on hand and did send her kids to boarding school she’s still their mom and they’ll show up whenever they’re sick or need an adult kinda thing and she’s never going to send them away. She’s not the biggest fan of babies, especially because of the mess and the volume, but you cannot tell me this woman is not super excited about being a grandparent now that her own kids are grown.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) They’re quiet, but efficient, she’s likely got the news on in the background, coffee brewing and a quick breakfast made while she’s already skimming through emails and her agenda, figuring out what’s the priority for the day and what she needs to focus on and where she’ll be able to take a couple of breathers. She’s an early riser, even on weekends, and if she’s not working she’s trying to beat the rush to the gym/wherever to get her workout in and be able to check one thing off the list before sunrise kinda thing. She’ll always kiss your forehead before slipping out of bed and if she’s gone by the time you’re up there’s still hot coffee and likely a plate of breakfast waiting in the oven.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) There’s going to be a small amount that is spent working, whether working late at the office, or bringing work home. But she always makes sure that she’s present once you need her, have dinner ready, or something of the like. She’ll put work away and come eat with you, catching up on your days, help you with dishes, stealing as many kisses as she can get before curling up on the couch with you to catch up on your most recent binge with a glass or two of wine. And obviously most weekend nights end up with clothes gone and bodies tangled together for a few hours…

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Heather keeps her secrets, especially with new people. It’s just part of being a politician, she’s going to let you know the basics and very specific details at first. She’s also cautious about things like that/you seeing her house because she comes from old/family money and knows just how quick that can sway someone’s opinion of her. She’s gotten trapped in the sugar babies taking advantage before so now when she indulges in that, she keeps them at an arms length. P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Not necessarily angry, but she is relatively easily annoyed. That being said, she is also our resident brat tamer and does enjoy getting riled up a bit because she knows she can punish it out of you. If she’s been working/told you she doesn’t want to be interrupted she has a shorter fuse, she can and will snap and sometimes it comes off pretty harshly. Sometimes she’ll apologize, sometimes she won’t, but she’ll make sure you know she’s not mad at you and if you haven’t been able to figure it out, she’ll explain why and things will be fine.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?) She remembers most things, but she’s also got such a detailed schedule/calendar/agenda that has a MILLION and a half reminders. Like, homegirl is so fucking organized it baffles people. So she always has the reminders for things like date nights, anniversaries, birthdays, etc far in advance. When it comes to stories, your favourite treats/colour/shows/etc she does generally remember exactly what you like, sometimes even when it’s only mentioned once or in passing. Those more random ones are usually remembered because she also really enjoys them herself, or she can connect it to someone else in her family who’s a huge fan kinda thing.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?) It’s likely going to be one of the first times that you welcomed her into your home and urged her to make herself at home/left her alone in your space. She knew in that moment that you trusted her and wanted her in your space and that finally knocks down that final wall of hesitancy of hers. It also could go the other way and very likely be when it gets revealed to you just how rich she is/the first time you’re at her house. She’s nervous, but incredibly happy at your response. You’re not in utter awe, but you’re also not reacting like it’s something you’ve seen every day, you’re reaction is right in the middle where she was hoping it would be. You acknowledge her lifestyle and accept it, but aren’t leaning too hard into it or away from it, you’re here to stay.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Heather is one protective bitch. If you don’t already have a security system at home, she’s getting one installed for you. She doesn’t like you taking public transport, especially after dark. If you don’t have a car, she’s giving you one, if you don’t drive, she’s supplying you with a driver. Out late at night and can’t get home? She’s outside waiting for you/sending a car before you can even send the text. If you’re out together and some prick is flirting with you, she’ll tightly wrap an arm around your waist and pull you to her, asking if you’re alright while staring daggers at the guy. She’s not about to throw hands, but she exudes enough power that the tiniest threat uttered from her lips is more than enough to have someone running.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) She absolutely loves lavish, luxury experiences and puts all of that into her dates, especially the important ones. Once Heather realizes she’s in love, she loves incredibly hard and will go above and beyond to make sure you know you’re loved because she’s also more than well aware of her flaws. Birthdays, anniversaries and the like she’ll always send you on a shopping spree with her credit card the week before, telling you to pick out whatever you want, but always to make sure there’s a new lingerie set too. Dress, heels, jewels, nails, make up, tan, hair appointment, literally whatever you want. If it’s a BIG event, she’s taking you on vacation, it’s gonna be all inclusive, private suite, water front château kinda thing, rose petals on the bed, endless champagne and gifts that are so incredibly perfect and tailored just for you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Her flaws are present and she knows they are, no matter how much she tries to avoid them. Work can absolutely consume her and thanks to her line of work, that can make her pretty irritable and short fused. Especially because she will likely also forgo sleeping the amount she needs and other daily necessities. Heather also tends to isolate, and attempt to do everything/fix everything on her own, she has trouble reaching out for help, even if she desperately needs it, she’d rather suffer through it alone than admit she needs help.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Heather is the one most concerned with her looks. She’s likely had a very strict skincare routine from a young age that she does every day without fail. 90% of her closet is designer and if it needs a couple of alterations, she’s sure to get those done in order for things to fit her perfectly. She puts time and effort into her appearance including hair and makeup and has a range of looks depending on exactly what she’s doing professionally that day (if that makes sense lol). She keeps active through various workouts and maintains a healthy diet, she’s not obsessive over it, but makes sure to stay healthy. Heather’s also definitely not against getting small amounts of not super invasive work done, nothing crazy, but just little bits to boost her confidence a bit over the years.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) 10000%. She doesn’t need another person to feel whole. She’s someone who isn’t particularly lonely when single, she’s content. She does miss the sex, but obviously has her way of getting that without a full relationship. It’s only once she has found someone that she truly loves that she does realize that it is really nice to have someone to come home to.

X = Xtra (A random head canon for them.) Was an equestrian growing up and was super good at it. She stopped after she was thrown off a horse during a practice and ended up with a nasty cut (that she still has the scar from) and a minor fracture somewhere in her leg/ankle/foot.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) She absolutely cannot stand lack of motivation/laziness/super dependent people. While she is completely content and enjoys being the dom in relationships, she needs her sub to be content by themselves while she’s busy. She will *always* reward them for it when she has the time, and as much of a brat tamer she is, the neediness can go past a level that she cannot stand. She also needs someone with at least somewhat of their own drive, she doesn’t care if you’re flipping burgers at mcdonald’s or a CEO on wallstreet, but you need *something* that is the reason to wake up in the morning and be a human, ya know? (though she is probably low key gonna judge you if you’re flipping burgers lol, but she’ll help guide you in the direction of a job you like more/earn more)

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

*Always* has a glass of wine before bed. If there’s some reason she can’t have one she’s having one of those sleepytime girlie mocktails that have been trending (they’ve got cherry juice and I think magnesium lol). And she likely has another couple of vitamins/supplements to help with rest/recovery/etc overnight.

Heather also either indulges in something very fantasy based right before bed, whether that be a show or a book. She started out reading fiction before bed nightly but found even some of it was too realistic/close to her daily career life so she swapped to fantasy to truly distract herself from life before sleeping.

----------------

@mickey-gomez @hbkpop @svulife-rl @red1culous @mysticfalls01 @bumblebear30 @svushots @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @multifandomlesbianic @momlifebehard @poisonedcrowns @wannabe-fic-reader @when-wolves-howl @dead-of-niight @godard-muse @itisdoctortoyousir @brooklynmhm @emilyprentiss4life @httpjupiterbby @leelizzzle @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @dextur @disneyfan624 @when-wolves-howl @augustvandyne @daffodil-heart @thisisraes @happenstnces @onmykneesformarvel @five-bi-five-mind @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @ratsnestinmyhair @valentinesfrog @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @chimnlex @gamma-rae-bursts @clarawatson @amypoehlfey

#heather dunbar #heather dunbar x reader #house of cards #heather dunbar head canons

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likesunsetorange · 7 months

Note

“mikasa and eren are antisocial af so they probably end up talking bc they’re little losers lol, and eren probably can tell mikasa is bored and here’s this gorgeous model, so he’s gonna whisk her away and they go to his ranch they have a romantic night under the stars and all that but he’s dumb and doesn’t get her number and she goes back home to ny without it”

DORKS!LOSERS!*AFFECTIONATE*

them slipping out of the room all giddy!!!!!!!!!! him not getting her number is sooodooooso my doodoo head…….. he’s already resigned himself to being a notch on her post, a lover if one may (can he call himself that? he will in his head anyways!)

like a global model would’ve never taken a relationship with him seriously so he’s should just treasure the moment then boom she shows up! and if we’re really leaning into the romcom of it all it’s during like crazy rain, her car gets stuck, she trucks herself to his doorstep by foot, and he stares slack jawed when he opens the door to se her <3

omg anon i was using your ask to draft a drabble and then this little incident of mikasa showing up to eren’s house has since spiraled further so we will be compiling all the ideas into one and since i had already been writing on this one we’re still gonna use yours lol!

also very much enjoying the dramatics and hallmark vibes here like is that just the energy i exude? extreme unseriousness and hallmark level corniness lol??

but fuck it drabble let’s go 🦅🦅🦅

(this actually ended up being so long lol 1.6k so enjoy!)

The rain only started falling harder every minute longer Mikasa continued to drive down the gravel road, the pitch black of the country sky only adding to the lack of visibility. She gripped the steering wheel hard, trying to focus on what little bit of the road she could see. The high beams of the rental car were doing little to nothing to help her see, only adding to her anxiety.

Her only saving grace was the fact that the GPS was telling her she was only five minutes away from Eren’s house—the last place she should be on a Wednesday night in the middle of April—not to mention she was halfway across the country, in the middle of nowhere, driving down a country road to see a man who’d she had only seen once.

Had it been her best idea? No. Was she still doing it? Absolutely.

There had been few times in her life when she had run off pure spontaneity, and she would allow herself this one instance of a lack of sensibility. It certainly wasn’t wise to book a flight in the act of impulse after finding out said man would be free all week, a pause in his hectic schedule, a schedule she had acquired by coercing her assistant to do some potentially not-so-legal things.

But the ticket had been bought. The rental car reservation had been made. So there was no turning back. (There certainly was opportunity to turn around, but Mikasa didn’t want to give herself any potential out or else she wouldn’t ever commit to doing so.)

So here she was, 0.75 miles from his house, running off pure adrenaline, rehearsing the speech she and Sasha had prepared.

“Hi, Eren. I know this is sudden, but I probably should’ve asked you for your number before leaving. I had to come back to Texas for another shoot, so I thought I would stop by.”

Maybe it was partially based on a lie, but tomato, tomato. It would be fine, she would be fine, and she told herself that all of this certainly wouldn’t blow up in her face.

Until that was precisely what happened.

She had been driving down the curve that led up to Eren’s ranch house when she felt the car jerk, suddenly drifting off the road, before halting to a stop, the Low-Pressure light immediately flashing on. As soon as she saw the lights flash on, she immediately knew one of the tires had blown out, leaving her stranded in the pouring rain just outside of Eren’s house.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. Mikasa leaned her head against the steering wheel, her stomach beginning to pool with regret.

“Do you think it would be weird if I just showed up at his house?”

Yes, Mikasa. It would be weird—it’s fucking insane of you, she thought to herself. And you certainly wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament you are in now if you just called him like any sane other sane person.

Mikasa glanced at her phone, the GPS alerting her she was only 0.25 miles from his house, and the weather app telling her the rain wouldn’t stop for at least the next four hours.

She sat there weighing her options.

Call a tow truck, and stick out the wait in her car

Walk to Eren’s house

Mikasa could see the lights of his house shining through the rain like a lighthouse in a stormy sea, signaling a potential safe return. At this point, she had already risked so much—her pride, her sanity, and almost her life had the tire incident gone any worse—what more did she have to lose?

She shut off the car, grabbed the keys and her phone—leaving her other belongings so if she needed to do a walk of shame back to her car, at least she’d be traveling light—and shoved on a jacket, thankful to whatever higher power she decided to bring one with her on the plane that day.

Mikasa told herself that if she ran as fast as she could, she would be there quickly, but she didn’t anticipate having to trek through mud, puddles, and essentially pitch black to make it to his front porch. By the time she made it up the steps, her white shoes were ruined, her white tank top was practically see-through, showing every lace detail of her black bra, and her bangs were plastered to her face. (Suddenly, there didn’t seem to be any point in asking how she should do her hair.)

There wasn’t much left to do but ring the doorbell, and at this point, she didn’t have anything left to lose, so she jammed her finger against it, giving herself no opportunity to back out. She heard the chime echo through his house while she stood there fiddling with her thumbs, trying to ring out as much water as she could from her hair, trying to make herself look the least bit presentable.

She heard the low timbre of a man from the other side of the door before the fumbling of the lock and doorknob snapped her attention forward. Mikasa felt her heart get stuck in her stomach as she saw the door pull back, Eren’s tall frame coming into view.

Mikasa had to stop herself from letting her jaw drop when she saw him; the first time she saw him practically paling in comparison to how he looked right now. From the fact that he had no shirt on, allowing her to see just how much muscle he had from all those days he spent working hard, to the sweats that hung low on his hips, leaving little to her imagination. He even looked prettier when he was home, as if the sense of comfort it brought him added an extra glow to his face.

His hand was clenched around his phone, holding it to his ear when he finally spoke, breaking Mikasa out of her ogling.

“Hey mom, I’m gonna have to call you back later… No ma’am… Yes ma’am, I will. I promise… I love you too… Okay, bye. Talk to you tomorrow.” His voice was velvety when he spoke, something about the way he spoke sweet and rich, a sound Mikasa didn’t think she’d ever get tired of.

Eren stared at her blankly once he hung up the phone, dumbfounded that she was standing on his front porch, not to mention that she was muddy and drenched from the rain.

The two of them were stuck in a staring contest, neither of them able to formulate words—all of Mikasa’s confidence had suddenly flown out the window, leaving her at a loss for words, because as soon as she opened her mouth, she knew she would be babbling like an idiot.

“Umm… Hi?” Eren said, his greeting coming out more like a question than anything.

“Hi,” Mikasa somehow managed to squeak out.

“Umm…” He repeated, still at a loss for words.

Mikasa’s mind, a jumbled mess, opted to go for it, knowing her babbling would be better than whatever awkward mess this was.

“You forgot something,” she said blankly.

Eren looked at her confused, his brows furrowing, “What?”

“You didn’t ask for my number the last time we saw each other. You forgot to ask me for it when I left here,” she said, stepping closer to where he stood in the doorway.

“You wanted me to ask you for your number?” Eren stared at her in disbelief, whether it was because he was shocked at her words or that she dared to show up and say them; Mikasa didn’t know.

“You brought me to your ranch, took me on a ride on horseback underneath the stars, called me beautiful, and then still didn’t ask me for my number. You didn’t even try to kiss me.”

“Did you want me to?” Eren said as his eyes flickered to her lips.

“Do you really think I would fly across the country on a whim and walk a quarter mile in the rain if I didn’t want you to ask me for my number or kiss me, Eren?” Mikasa asked.

She stood before him, glancing up at him, her face merely inches away from his. She could see how long his lashes looked beneath the porch light, the strands of gold and bronze within his hair, and the plush pink of his lips—right where she could kiss him.

“Mikasa, you walked a quarter mile in the pouring—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before Mikasa pushed herself upward, so her lips met his, her hand steadying itself on his broad chest. He tasted like sweet tea and a touch of Chapstick, his lips as soft as she could have imagined. His hands steadied on her waist, bringing her closer to him. She relished in the way he felt before the reality of the situation began to plague her mind—clarity being her cruelest enemy.

Maybe it was the second-guessing running through her head, but the sudden urge to pull away instantly flooded through her mind before she jerked herself back.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Eren’s voice immediately rang through her ears as she pulled away. “Who said I wanted you to stop?”

“Oh, did you not?”

“You show up on my doorstep with all these questions, then kiss me, and now you’re surprised I wanted to kiss you back?”

“Umm… maybe?”

Eren didn’t give her much time to think before he picked her up and walked her into his house. “How about I let you into my house so you don’t end up sick from being drenched in the rain, get you some dry clothes, and you can ask me all the questions you want?”

“Okay,” she responded shyly, her face flushing red at his directness.

“Never met a girl so pretty and bold before, surely I have to keep you around.”

#cowboy x model au #vic’s drabbles #asks #eremika

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phoenixcatch7 · 11 months

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Season of revival has started today! I've avoided spoilers for the most part, but I have kept up to date with the beta, so here's what I think so far:

The scenery and setting is phenomenal. I managed to avoid pretty much every spoiler for the new season area, the aviary, so I got to experience it first hand, and can I just say STUNNING??? The amount of clouds they've put everywhere is so atmospheric, in both senses of the word XD. It feels like a ghost town, with the dim fog in the streets and all the nooks and crannies. The light spilling from the windows of the barber and the mannequin shop look so cozy and inviting ^^.

The depiction of it all, too, is awesome! The steward is so well animated, with no face or fingers (or shoulders, really) they managed to convey a quiet and resigned devastation, seeing his once beautiful aviary now empty and desolate.

The rhythm guide was a delightful surprise! Now it seems they've decided to take up hair dressing??? I mean... Follow your dreams, but it's a bit of a weird choice of profession for a travelling troupe master. Maybe their parents were hair dressers? It'd certainly explain the styles the rhythm troupe has lol, especially the famous owl hair that remains one of the most coveted in the game XD!

I always love good depictions of the mountain, and the aviary frames it perfectly no matter which area you're in.

And the lore implications!! I know nor care nothing for the war, or elder names, or the king, but I love digging up tidbits all the same. It looks like the aviary was the original main gathering place of the kingdom of the sky, and yes, I know it was the pre release Home before we got the current one, but it just feels... Like a home? Like the Shire from lotr ^^. I can't wait to see what that huge tower is for!

In terms of emotes, or cosmetics, though...

They aren't very good. There's staggeringly few this season. Literally all the good items are behind the pay wall this time, which is a shame because usually tgc leave at least one really good item for in game currency! There's about two items per mannequin - and it is mannequins, not even actual spirits!!

The hair bow is so pretty, not quite to my personal liking but it's going to be so very wanted lol. There's one cape I really wanted, the orange one with tassels, but you bet its behind the season pass. And the long boots? Please, I love long boots, why must you do this T-T. The short boots just don't have the same energy. The purple cape, one that feels related to rhythm (?)... It looks flat to the point of feeling unfinished. It doesn't look fully rendered. We know tgc has been capable of much better fur for a long time now, heck the towels from days of sunlight are amazing, and the straight lines on the cape make it look like it's just made of polygons lol. There's no texture on any of it.

There's no new props or instruments to my knowledge. There's been no beta video, no youtuber showcase of either I could find. Could we not at least have some maracas or something?? I'd love a new instrument! A triangle? A rain maker? Cymbals?? A KAZOO???

It's very obvious where tgc spent their effort and time, but seriously, I can't be mad. This season seems to be, either on purpose or not, a response to a lot of players, especially older ones, getting so easily burnt out by the amount of back to back time limited yada yada get it while you can content. Seriously, I think the last season ended just last week, and only because it's a Monday today! And both during the second half of the last season and during the gap between the two, we've had two days events. TWO. there hasn't been a day where there's been a a chance for a breather for over a month. It's back to back to back! Heck, I got burned out a year ago, and it sucked!

This season might be the breather we need.

There's a beautiful and open area to explore, filled with interesting nooks and crannies and places to have pretty photo shoots or make silly or aesthetic videos or maybe even a picnic. There's what look to be secondary realm portals through a tunnel (oh, and there's a defunct map stone too, if you're looking), including an eden gate! That seems to be the only one still active, you can hear it if you get close enough. The implications....

Despite the decent cosmetics being behind the pass, there's nothing I want nearly enough to shell out for, not that I've done it before. But I'm at least usually very tempted! There's really... Very little this season brings to the table outside of the new area it gives us straight up, but I think this is good. I think this is a chance for people to catch their breath, to not have to allot time to candle running and quests, to make sure they maximise every day on sky to get all the cosmetics. I think it's okay if you don't want to get them all this time.

Though we don't know if it's even possible they'll come back as travelling spirits, it's likely the currency will change from seasonal to candles or hearts once it's over. Probable, even.

I can't wait to see the aviary once we've brought it back to life, but I do hope there's a way we can slip back in time to relax in the quiet, misty, still area we have now. It's just beautiful.

#sky children of the light #Sky cotl #thatskygame #skyblr #that sky game #that game company #thatgamecompany #season of revival #Sky cotl seasons #skycotl

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abcd-adventures · 9 months

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We were sharing about our favorite gifts last night while playing games after dinner, and my coworker got me mine. I remember at one point months ago I told him about trashcan basketball when I was a teacher. Many years ago, I used to teach English at an alternative school. One day, things had gotten really heated in the classroom--I don't remember why--so I introduced the students to trashcan basketball, and then we would play it for a couple of minutes if we needed a reset/to burn some energy/to step out of ourselves for a minute. And, many times, if I had a student in to talk through something, we would practice our shots because sometimes it's easier to talk about hard things when you're doing something. Well, my coworker couldn't find a small enough hoop for my office trashcan, but he got me an over-the-door hoop and IT IS THE BEST GIFT EVER. I absolutely almost cried when I got it because it was that perfect.

We have a basketball hoop in the back of our building at work and we recently started shooting hoops every week at 3pm on either Wednesday or Thursday afternoons--it has become one of my FAVORITE parts of my week. Me, my two coworkers, and my boss all go out and shoot with the residents and there is so much (good-natured) shit talk and laughter and it is so much fun! I have been trying to get one of my favorite clients to come out for weeks because I know that he played basketball in high school and loved it and his team won the prison basketball championship when he was locked up--he said those games were the only times he felt a little bit like himself during that whole period of his life. He had told me a couple of weeks ago, though, that he didn't want to come out because he felt like holding a basketball would bring up too much for him and he didn't want to chance that in front of people. I can respect that, so I didn't push (yet). Well, he and I had our standard weekly appointment in the afternoon after I got the hoop from my coworker and my client noticed it immediately. After he (jokingly) accused me of getting the hoop specifically to make him talk more about what he'd said about what basketball would bring up for him--which is very much something I would have done if I'd thought of it, Lol--he started shooting and then just tossing me some balls to shoot, too, and we ended up having the BEST session. At the end, he didn't commit to shooting any shots at our afternoon basketball activity, but he said he'd come out and give me some pointers on my shot (needed! Lol). My heart was so full I don't know how it didn't explode.

Best. Gift. Ever.

#I love my job!

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thequeenofthestorm · 2 months

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Updates, Updates, Updates

[IMPORTANT: PLEASE READ THE FIRST ONE]

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Project 2025 Awareness:

Hey, so I know I'm just a small gaming channel, but those of you who watch my streams would know I'm a pretty outspoken leftist. I won't dive deep into my beliefs or anything, but I wanted to share a video with you guys. It's a pretty good short breakdown of Project 2025: the manifesto made by the Heritage Foundation to basically strip away minority and women's rights and turn the US into a Christian theocracy of sorts. I've got no money, so I can't donate anywhere, and I'm too much of a shut-in to go out and protest, so the least I can do is spread an easily digestible resource.

youtube

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Mental Health/Content Update:

So on a less depressing note, TMS has been going great! It doesn't have too many tangible effects yet, but thanks to just knowing I'm getting somewhere I've been able to get myself dressed and have been keeping myself hygienic for the first time in a while! I'm hoping to do at least one or two Modded Terraria Experience streams this week so that we get some July content out there. If you haven't been on my Discord lately, then I want to say here that I am moving the June video to the end of this month and combining it with July's. This gives me time to work on it without stressing myself out. I'll also be cutting back on the amount of Modded Terraria streams: likely from the 8-10 we were doing to 6-8. We probably won't be hitting 400-500 hours anymore after that, but it should be somewhere from 250-350 still so I'm proud of it. This gives us time to do other things too, such as the Fireball Spammer. I likely won't stream the Fireball Spammer redo next week, but will shoot for the week after. I don't want to immediately flood myself with streams lol. I am hoping to eventually go back to four streams a week, but it may be a while until I get the energy to do so. Until then, I want to thank everyone who's waited patiently for me to come back, and I am so sorry I've taken so long. Here's to another great era of content!

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TL;DR:

Project 2025 is horrible, and there's an easily digestible video I have linked below to help those who haven't really read up on it learn a bit about the truth behind what it is. My mental health is doing a lot better thanks to finally getting somewhere on my way through treatment I've been feeling much better. I'm going to start slowly working my way back up to four streams a week, although that could take a while. Expect two streams next week: both being the Modded Terraria Experience.

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darkstar225 · 1 year

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Twice's 10th member visits Nayeon on her solo's set

A/N: Hey guys, I'm sorry for disappearing but I got my wisdom teeth out so yeah- lol. Anyway- I got an ask on Tumblr and I loved writing it, ty anon! :D

The request: Can I request something, you know nayeon solo pop behind the scene, nayeon was so sad because 10th doesn't come because she's in hiatus, she sad but suddenly staff ask her to go out and said something 'fresh air'. She's grumpy because her favorite member is not coming and what she saw is the dancer who help her in mv but it turned out is 10th member. She suddenly feels embarrassed (nayeon) because she didn't notice her until now

PS: Tysm for everyone that reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

Nayeon stared at her reflection in the dressing room mirror, her usually bright eyes dull with disappointment. She took a deep breath and tried to shake off the heavy feeling that had settled over her heart. Today was supposed to be a special day, the behind-the-scenes shoot for her first solo music video. But it felt incomplete without Y/N, the 10th member of TWICE, by her side.

Y/N had been on hiatus for the past few weeks due to health concerns, and Nayeon missed her presence more than she had expected. The maknae's energy, laughter, and the way she could effortlessly brighten up any room were missed a lot, especially today T-T.

As the camera crew bustled around her, adjusting lights and arranging props, Nayeon's mind kept drifting back to her kid. She wondered how her fellow member was doing and if she was feeling any better. Nayeon had always been protective of Y/N, despite the girl's unwavering independence. She felt a pang of guilt for not being able to be there for her angel during her hiatus.

At that moment, one of the staff members entered the room and snapped her out of her daydreaming.

Staff 1 - Nayeon, we're ready for your solo shots now!

Nayeon plastered a smile on her face and walked onto the set, giving her best performance despite the absence that weighed on her heart. Hours passed, and the shoot continued. Nayeon pushed herself to focus on her performance, giving her all to every take. But every now and then, her mind would wander back to TWICE's sunshine, wondering if she was watching the live stream of the shoot or if she was resting and recovering. She deserved to rest but perhaps...

As the day wore on, Nayeon couldn't shake the melancholic feeling that had settled over her. She had been hoping to share this exciting moment with Y/N, to see her smiling face on set, cheering her on. But her babygirl's absence cast a shadow over the entire experience.

The word Cut! that the director called out signalled the end of another take. Nayeon let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and walked off-set, retreating to a corner of the studio. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through her messages in hopes of any news from Y/N.

A voice called out to the eldest member and Nayeon looked up to see one of the backup dancers approaching her.

Backup dancer - Hey, Nayeon, you did great out there!

Nayeon managed a small smile, grateful for the dancer's kind words but her soft voice betrayed her as she tried to hide her emotions.

Nayeon - Thanks. It's just... I wish Y/N could be here.

The dancer nodded understandingly.

Backup dancer - I heard she's getting better. Maybe she'll surprise you soon. (little does she know lol)

Nayeon sighed, her shoulders slumping.

Nayeon - I hope so *frowns*

Just then, another staff member approached her.

Staff 2 - Nayeon, how about you take a break? The fresh air might do you some good.

Nayeon grumbled inwardly but forced herself to nod. She walked out of the studio and into the corridor, leaning against the wall. The cool air did little to alleviate the heaviness that had settled in her chest. As she stood there, lost in her thoughts, the sound of laughter reached her ears. Nayeon frowned, recognizing the voice but not quite believing it. She turned towards the source of the sound and blinked in disbelief.

There, surrounded by a small group of staff and dancers, was Y/N, her girl. She was wearing a casual outfit, her smile radiant as she chatted animatedly with those around her. Nayeon's heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight of her younger sister, looking healthier and happier than she had expected.

Nayeon's initial shock quickly turned into a mixture of disbelief and embarrassment. How had she missed Y/N's arrival? She watched the girl's every move, feeling a warmth spread through her chest as she realized that Y/N had come to surprise her.

As if sensing Nayeon's gaze, the maknae looked up and their eyes met. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they locked eyes. Then, Y/N's smile widened, and she excused herself from the group, walking towards Nayeon as she started talking, her voice soft yet full of warmth.

Y/N - Hey, Nayeon unnie.

Nayeon felt her cheeks heat up, a mixture of embarrassment and joy flooding her system.

Nayeon - Baby, you're here.

Y/N chuckled, her eyes sparkling.

Y/N - Yeah, why wouldn't I be? Are you surprised? Lol

Nayeon nodded, a wide smile spreading across her face.

Nayeon - More than surprised. I can't believe I didn't notice you until now! *pouts*

Y/N shrugged playfully.

Y/N - Well, I guess I can be pretty sneaky when I want to be. And... You're old lmao

Nayeon laughed, the heaviness in her heart lifting with every second she spent in Y/N's presence even if she was being teased by her kid.

Nayeon - You have no idea how much I've missed you, love.

TWICE's honey's gaze softened, and she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around her older sister in a gentle hug.

Y/N - I've missed you too, unnie. But I'm here now, and I'm so proud of you!

Tears welled up in Nayeon's eyes as she hugged her youngest back, holding onto her tightly. The months of worrying and missing Y/N melted away in that embrace, replaced by a profound sense of gratitude and happiness. As they pulled back from the hug, Nayeon wiped away her tears and looked at Y/N with a teasing smile.

Nayeon - YAH! You know, you should've warned me. I've been moping around all day.

Y/N chuckled, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

Y/N - Where's the fun in that? Besides, seeing your reaction was totally worth it.

Nayeon shook her head in mock exasperation, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. As they stood there, exchanging laughter and stories, Nayeon realized that even in her absence, Y/N had a way of brightening her world. And as they headed back to the studio, arm in arm, Nayeon knew that her solo shoot was no longer incomplete because Y/N was right there by her side and that made her have only one thought:

I love our dear maknae.

A/N: I apologise for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3

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lunarbuck · 2 years

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Dance With The Devil (5)

Pairing: mafia!Loki x f!reader (any race)

WC: 5.7k

Summary: You and Loki are running out of time.

Warnings: fear, illness (hospitals), swearing, abduction

A/N: we're getting to the end my friends!! I intended for this series to only have 7 chapters with #7 being the epilogue. We'll see how that actually turns out lol but I hope you enjoy this chapter <3

series masterlist | main masterlist | script | fic playlist

Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

Flower

When you wake up, the soreness between your legs makes itself known. You decide to soak in the bath to ease it, but honestly, you don’t mind how it feels. You enjoy the reminder of what Loki did to you yesterday.

Something came over him when he was fucking you, something primal and needy. You loved every second of it. You’ve never felt that way before, never wanted someone that much. Just the thought of it sends heat shooting through you. You’re tempted to reach your fingers beneath the water to soothe yourself. Maybe Loki will come barging in again to watch.

You’ve never wanted someone to watch you touch yourself before; you’ve always been quite shy when it comes to intimacy. You don’t know what possessed you not to close off when he made his presence known, but truthfully you liked it. You liked the way he looked at you, the way he so desperately wanted to replace your hands with his.

You sink below the surface of the water, submerging your head, and try to clear your mind. Now isn’t the time to spiral into your fantasies.

That little voice of doubt in your mind has been getting louder and louder since you woke up today. You’ve let your thoughts stray too far. You’ve forgotten why you’re here in the first place.

Loki was going to kidnap your father, possibly kill him, if you hadn’t traded your life for his.

Your heart sinks as you think of papa. You haven’t been able to contact him, and guilt pours through your chest as you recall the state you’d found him in.

Part of you wants to think that Griffin would help out, considering he was willing to help you find your father in the first place, but since you made no arrangements before throwing yourself at Loki’s feet, there are no guarantees.

You decide that today you’ll demand that Loki at least let you speak to your father; if not visit him so you can make sure he is taken care of.

With that, you finish washing and get ready for the day.

When you step out of your room, the mansion is bustling with nervous energy. Loki’s men hurry through the halls, speaking frantically into their phones. You’re barely able to make it to the kitchen without being trampled.

Mrs. Peters greets you with a kind smile, though you can tell she is worried about something as she stirs some sort of batter.

“Good morning,” you say, gathering the materials for a quick breakfast.

“Morning, dear,” she replies, watching you with careful eyes.

You make your breakfast and try to ignore how Mrs. Peters looks at you. What is she so worried about? “What’s going on?” Mrs. Peters stops her mixing and drops her eyes.

“Just the start of a busy week, is all,” she announces a bit loudly. You raise your eyebrows but decide not to push for more details.

Tense silence settles in the kitchen, and Mrs. Peters becomes visibly uncomfortable with it. “It’s Loki’s birthday at the end of the week.” She says it more to the batter than you, but you hear it anyway. Why does his birthday cause such a strain on the household?

“What’s the big deal then?” Mrs. Peters shakes her head, but you know she will answer.

“It’s not my place, dear…” She pours the batter into a pan and flits around the kitchen, gathering new ingredients. “But this birthday is significant. There’s a lot riding on it.”

Pieces of the conversation you’d overheard the other day come back to the forefront of your mind.

He’s running out of time.

“Are there any special plans for Friday, then?” You ask, trying not to sound too curious. Mrs. Peters worries her lip between her teeth.

“No, Loki detests his birthday. We try not to draw attention to the date. Even though this birthday is important, we are doing our best not to dwell on it.”

How could someone hate their birthday? Though, you suppose if someone is going to hate their birthday, Loki fits the bill. You continue trying to put the puzzle together in your mind as you eat but don’t get far. Loki has done a good job of keeping you in the dark when it comes to his personal business.

You haven’t dared to step foot in the west wing since the night you witnessed him kill the bound man. That doubtful voice has gained confidence, and it makes sure to remind you that you gave yourself to that same man. He has blood on his hands, and you let him touch you. You let him in and allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him.

Your head pounds with guilt and confusion; you’re torn. This angry side of you knows how awful it is that you’ve let Loki get so close. But this other side, this soft and comforting side, knows that you’re only human. Loki is caring; he isn’t cruel to you.

He is such a different man to you than he is to the outside world. Why does he have to make this so hard for you?

You wander through the halls after cleaning up your breakfast dishes, unsure of where you’re going. Your feet lead you to the library, and your chest tightens at the sight of the chair Loki fucked you in. Heat settles in your belly at the thought, making you clench.

Levi startles you with his presence as he pops his head out from behind one of the shelves, and you’re grateful for the distraction.

“Salut, ma chérie!” He coos, tossing himself unceremoniously onto the couch. You join him, picking up a book on your way over.

“Why aren’t you out stressing like the rest of Loki’s men?” You ask, flipping open the book. Levi rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his already slicked-back hair.

“Because I don’t give a shit.” His blunt response surprises you, but you try not to show it. “I think everyone is overreacting. It’ll be okay in the end.” Levi winks as if you’re in on the secret and grins to himself.

“Well, have you seen Loki? I have something I need to ask him.” Levi huffs a laugh while he shakes his head.

“The boss man is holed up in his office; you’re not gonna see much of him anytime soon.” You deflate a bit at that. You can’t really bargain with Loki if you can’t find him.

You and Levi remain in the library for most of the day, only getting up to find food or hide from Cade, who apparently is on a mission to get Levi to do his job.

On days like this, it’s easy to imagine that you could do this forever. It’s easy to forget that Loki is the man who holds you captive. This beautiful mansion is your make-believe home, not your prison. How long will you be able to keep up the illusion?

Loki stays cooped up in his office for days, and to be honest, you don’t know what to do with yourself without him. You read, draw, and explore the mansion, but you’re itching for something new.

It dawns on you that at this rate, the only time you’ll see Loki is his birthday, when he’s bound to be in a foul mood. He’ll probably deny your request the second you say it if he’s already angry.

Well, screw that.

You recruit Levi and Mrs. Peters to help you with your plan, even though they’re hesitant. You can tell they’re desperate to make the week go well, and if everything comes together how you hope it will, he’ll have a good birthday for the first time in years.

Loki

Though it brings me great pain, I do not see my beauty for most of the week. I spend my days locked in the west wing, pacing, furious. My father’s men are relentless; they constantly remind me of the arrangement and how I have failed to find a bride.

The mere sight of my flower, that beautiful woman, makes fire stream through my veins. It would be easy enough to force her to marry me, but I have no desire to force her into that. I have done enough to her while she has been captive here. I’ve already taken advantage.

Cade has shown me the files of a few women to marry that my father’s men won’t be able to find an issue with, but I shoot him down. I want no one, just her . She is the only one for me now. I’m ruined.

So delightfully ruined.

Thursday rolls around sooner than I had hoped, and I have not found a way out of my father’s idiotic deal. Why the man had to make my life so difficult from the grave is beyond me, but I know truly he just wanted me to be happy. He wanted me to be able to take care of our legacy.

I have never had friends or companions outside the people working for our family; he wanted more for me. I want to carry on our traditions and be the head of our family’s mafia, but if it means marrying some woman I don’t give two shits about, I won’t do it. I will refuse if it means I can no longer be with my flower.

The rose she gave me all those days ago in the garden still rests on my desk. It has not wilted, and none of the petals show any sign of aging in the slightest. It’s as if she put a spell on it, dusted a bit of magic upon the thing.

My fingers trace over the stem, feeling the thorns as they threaten to prick my skin.

An obnoxious patterned knock on my door draws me away from the flower, already knowing who is about to waltz through.

Levi strolls through the entryway, a mischievous gleam in his eye. I don’t like it.

“Good evening, Boss,” he says with a sing-song tone.

“Good evening, Levi.” I turn my attention to my computer. If he wants to say something, he’ll say it, but I don’t feel like poking the bear right now.

“You got plans tonight?” He asks, laughing. He knows I don’t.

I raise an eyebrow in response.

“Well, you do now.” Levi wiggles his eyebrows in a way that makes me feel quite unsettled but provides no further information. He motions for me to stand, and for some reason, I do.

I follow Levi out of my office and the west wing. As we walk, nerves tighten in my chest. I fuss with my shirt collar and my hair, ensuring everything is in place, but really I just need something to do with my hands.

Levi leads me into a quiet room on the opposite side of the mansion that I haven’t been in for years. When my parents owned the home, it was somewhat of a study. With my office, I have had no use for it. So when I walk in and see a dining table set for two, I’m shocked.

I walk over to the table and find a simple homemade meal, though I can quickly tell that Mrs. Peters hasn’t cooked it. Levi’s fading steps alert me to his departure, but I don’t bother to say anything to him.

The table has a dainty bouquet of roses as the centerpiece, and it dawns on me who has put this all together. I turn around and step out of the room to look for her when I spot her at the top of the staircase just down the hall.

She looks beautiful; an angel sent down from heaven to save me from this hellish world. I make my way to the bottom of the stairs and watch as my flower descends toward me.

Her dress is long, trailing behind her on the stairs as she walks. Pieces of fabric fall off her shoulders, making her look like a princess straight out of one of her fairytale books. The color suits her skin beautifully, as if it were created just for her. I have never seen anyone or anything more stunning.

I am shamelessly staring at her, and she drops her eyes sheepishly as if she isn’t used to the attention, as if she is unaware of how I have watched her since she arrived.

My beauty reaches the floor, and I offer her my arm. She wraps her hand around my elbow, her dainty fingers sending shivers up my spine. Up close, I can see the way her dress shimmers. The bodice is form-fitting, showing off her curves, and I can’t help but imagine what it would look like on my bedroom floor.

The two of us walk back into the study-turned-dining room, and I do all the gentlemanly things, like pull out her chair and serve her first. This seems to fluster her, and I can’t get enough of it.

“Do you like it?” She asks, a hint of nerves in her words. The candles on the table create a warm glow, bathing her in soft light.

“Yes, my flower, this is lovely.” She smiles, and it warms something deep inside of me. I want her to always look at me like this.

“I’m glad. It wasn’t the easiest to set up, but I wanted to do something special,” she says, sipping her glass of wine. I cock my head, thinking about the mess that’s been created by me not having completed my end of the deal with my father.

I must make a face at the thought because her eyebrows come together; she’s worried.

“I know you don’t like your birthday, but it’s not your birthday, so this isn’t a birthday thing. Don’t start twisting it around, okay?” Her words are stern, and a genuine smile plasters itself upon my lips.

“Well, thank you for the not-birthday dinner. It’s a nice break from all the shit going on in the house.” My flower nods as I return to my meal. I notice her get up and walk to the corner of the room, where she places a record on a turntable. Music plays through hidden speakers, filling the room with new warmth and energy.

We eat the rest of our food in silence, listening to music. After eating my fill, I sit back and watch her. My flower’s head bobs to the beat, and her fingers tap the table to the melody as if she’s playing the piano. There is still so much I have to learn about her, so many secrets for me to uncover.

As I blatantly admire her, she stands and walks over to me, brushing her hands down the skirt of her dress.

“Loki,” she begins, taking a big breath. “Would you dance with me?” I’m taken aback by her request. Even though we’ve shared such intimate moments, we have never exchanged simple touches. I have never held her in a soft, gentle way. I hadn’t thought she’d want it.

“Of course,” I say, standing beside her. I tower over her, but she does not shrink under my gaze.

If anything, she blooms .

I take her hand and walk her to the more open side of the room. My hands find her waist while her fingers settle on my shoulders.

The piece playing through the speakers is slow, so we sway to it. I lead us in the only dance I know, occasionally twirling her around. Her eyes sparkle despite the dim light, and I practically drown in them.

Holding her so close to me, being able to feel her pressed against me, makes me want to pour my heart out to her. I want her to be here, to be mine, forever. Not my prisoner, not my captive, but mine .

And I want to be hers, to be the one she relies on in this life. Not her captor, but hers . I’ll show her just how much I trust her, just how much I need her.

The piece ends, but she doesn’t pull away. She continues to look up at me, watching my face. I kiss her. It's more gentle than anything we've done together. The way her lips part for me, the feeling of her pressed against me, it's almost too much. But it's not enough all at the same time.

The soft smile she wears doesn’t fade even as I guide her out of the room and toward the west wing.

When we arrive at the doors, we open them together. With one of her hands held in mine, I lead her down the hall, through my office, and out onto the balcony. The clouds have parted, revealing a sky full of stars for us to gaze at. The air is unseasonably warm, but I enjoy it.

What I actually enjoy is her.

Being out here with her brings me great peace, something I have not experienced before. I reach into my pocket and feel the velvet box I’d put in there earlier.

Her hands rest on the balcony railing, and I bring out the box from my pocket. Inside is a simple silver necklace with a green stone pendant on it. It’s delicate and dainty; I don’t see her as the flashy jewelry type.

“Loki,” she questions. “What’s going on?” I give her a small smile and show her the necklace.

“Do you like it?” It had been my mother’s, once upon a time. It feels right to give it to her.

“It’s beautiful.” I step behind her and fasten the necklace around her neck, letting my fingers linger on her skin as I brush her hair away.

She looks perfect. The necklace suits her, and I love seeing her in my favorite color.

“My beauty,” I say quietly, trying not to ruin the moment. She looks up at me, eyes reflecting the stars. “Are you happy here with me?” She hesitates, tugging her lip between her teeth. Despite this, she smiles.

“Yes.” Her eyes drift to the town below, and I can tell her thoughts are far away. While I am thrilled that she is happy here, whatever is pulling her away is clearly upsetting her.

“What is it?” I hold one of her hands, rubbing my thumb back and forth over her soft skin.

“If only I could see papa again. Even just for a moment,” she whispers. I reach out my other hand and cup her cheek, turning her so she looks at me. Tears gather in the corners of her eyes, but she blinks them away, not allowing them to fall. “I miss him so much.”

Guilt and disappointment pang in my gut. But I want her to be happy. I want her to enjoy life here with me. I brush over the soft skin of her cheek with my thumb. “There is a way.”

I leave her side and walk into my office. I have surveillance software installed on Maurice’s phone, though I’m sure he’s unaware of it. I pull up his information on my laptop and bring it onto the balcony.

“What’s this?” I don’t want to explain it to her because I know it will upset her to remember why she’s here in the first place, but there is no way around it.

“Surveillance software on your father’s phone. One of my men installed it a while ago when he started missing payments to us.” Her brows furrow, but I continue explaining what we see on the screen. His location and where he’s been throughout the day, texts, emails, and phone calls.

“Where is he now?” I go to the map that shows his exact location, and my chest tightens.

“He’s at the hospital.” I won’t sugarcoat it; I won’t hide this from her. A notification pops up to indicate he’s active on his phone. “We can call him if you’d like.”

My flower nods quickly, chewing on her lower lip. “Yes, please.”

I pull out my phone, dial his number, and hand it to her. She takes my hand and squeezes it tightly in silent thanks. I bring that hand up to my lips and kiss her soft skin. This will change everything, I already know.

Wanting to give her privacy, I step back into my office. I don’t shut the doors. I sit at my desk and wait.

It feels like forever before she returns. When she comes into my office, tears stream down her face. Her chest heaves with her breaths. I quickly go to her side and place my hands on her face, wiping away her tears with my thumb.

“It’s papa,” she hiccups. “He’s sick; he may be dying. And he’s all alone.” I feel my stone heart crack at her words. My eyes drift around the office as I think about this place. Over the years, the house has become my prison; it only felt like home when she arrived.

I surprise myself by speaking. “Then-- then you must go to him.”

Her eyes go wide. They’re glazed over with tears, but I can practically see stars in them. “What did you say?

I take a deep breath, moving my hands to cup the back of her head. “I release you. You are no longer my prisoner.” A new round of tears spill onto her face as she rests her head in my hands.

“You mean... I’m free?”

“Yes.” The word is a dagger in my heart.

“Oh, thank you.” I watch as her tears leave shiny tracks on her soft skin. She turns her attention to the phone in her hand and speaks to it as if her father can still hear her. “Hold on, Papa. I’m on my way.” Her words are solid and sure despite her tears.

Her fingers move to grip her necklace’s pendant before finding the clasp at the back of her neck. She begins to remove it, but I place a hand over hers to stop her.

“Take it with you, so you’ll always have a way to remember me.” She sucks in a shaky breath and nods.

“Thank you for understanding how much he needs me.” I swipe my thumb over her damp cheek, unable to form a response.

She slowly steps out of my grasp and turns to leave. Just as she steps away, she reaches out her hand and places it on my cheek. Her lip quivers, but she does not speak.

I watch as she rushes back into the house and out of my life.

Levi and Cade move out of the way as she runs past them. They both walk quickly to catch up to me while I step onto the balcony.

“Well, Boss,” Levi says excitedly. “I must say everything is going according to plan. I knew you had it in you.” He claps me on the shoulder, but I do not turn to face him. Instead, I stare out at the land in front of me.

“I let her go.”

Cade scoffs. “You what? How could you do that?” I should scold him, reprimand him, but I can’t. Not right now.

“I had to.” My words must convey my feelings, my heartache, because he backs down.

“Why?”

“Because,” I say quietly, watching as my flower makes her way across the driveway. “I love her.”

Cade and Levi stand in stunned silence before leaving me to my thoughts. I don’t even notice their exit, too focused on what I have lost.

It is impossible to tear my eyes off her as she runs. She is bathed in moonlight. It washes over her in an ethereal way, making her look as if she were created from the stars. She doesn’t look back when she makes it to the front gate. She keeps moving.

She runs away from me, from everything I have given her.

Though she leaves her possessions behind, she has ripped my heart out and brought it with her. She clutches it between her little fingers.

As much as I yearn to follow, as much as I wish I could chase after her and pull her into my grasp, I am rooted where I stand.

I cannot move; fate will not have it. Destiny has leashed me, tethered me to this spot.

A strange peace washes over me as she fades from my view, melting into the skyline.

She will never truly leave me. Even if I never see her again, she has a piece of me, and I her. I will never forget it, the moments spent in her embrace, no matter how I may try. No matter how painful it may be.

Her stubborn nature, her laughter ringing through the air, it will be part of me forever.

I do not move; I barely breathe as I wait. I know she will not return, but I cannot convince my heart of this truth.

I take my first step when the sun begins to rise, and the moon has fallen. My bones ache, screaming at me to wait just a few moments longer, but I quiet the thoughts.

I find my way to my room, seeing the ghost of her in the corridors. Her footsteps pressed into the carpet, her fingers trailing the trim on the walls. I step into the room I’d given her when she first arrived. The blankets are still rumpled from the last time she slept on them. No one has changed them.

As if in a trance, I find myself climbing into the bed, surrounding myself with her smell.

It hasn’t faded yet.

I pull the blankets around me and tug the pillow from under my head, clutching it to my chest.

My heart aches for her as I bury my head in the pillow. In this moment, I know that she will torment me forever.

I wonder if I will torment her.

I hope so.

Flower

You run until your legs feel like jelly, and then you run some more. Despite feeling like you're about to collapse, you push and push until you get to the hospital. It's a miracle that you didn't pass out on the way.

When you arrive, a woman directs you to your father's room. Relief washes over you as you walk into the room and see your father lying on the hospital bed.

"Papa?" You ask gently. He stirs from his sleep, and his eyes shoot open when he sees you. "It's all right, Papa. I'm here."

Tears pool in your father's eyes as you sit beside him on the bed. You carefully wrap your arms around his shoulders, not wanting to cause discomfort.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he whispers.

"I missed you so much." Beneath the smell of hospital, you find the comforting smell of home.

"But, what about Loki… How did you escape?" You pull away and shake your head, wiping your father's tears from his cheek.

"I didn't escape, Papa. He let me go." Your father's brows pull together skeptically.

"That horrible man– he let you go?" You cringe at his words and the way your father eyes the beautiful dress you’re still wearing. Even though you probably should’ve changed out of it, you find comfort in knowing that Loki got it for you.

"But he's different now, Papa," you explain gently. "He's changed somehow." Your father shakes his head, but he's not denying what you're saying. He loves and believes you, but it might take time for him to understand.

A sharp knock on the door startles you and your father. A man you recognize as Jack Rollins, the one who attacked you all those nights ago, barges in along with four other men dressed all in black tactical gear.

Before you can even call for help, they pounce, dragging you and your father from the hospital bed and onto the ground. Fabric is shoved into your mouth, which is then duct taped shut before you're hauled up by one of the men. Your father receives the same treatment, and you thrash against the man holding you.

The men carry you and your father out of the hospital, and no one, not one single person, does anything to stop them. You had no idea Jack and whoever he works for are so powerful. They throw you into the back of a van, binding your wrists and ankles to prevent your escape and drive away.

When the car finally stops moving, you’re pulled out and dropped on the ground in an old lot with only a freight container in it. You try to take in your surroundings to figure out where you are, but you have no clue. Nothing around here gives you hints about the location. Everything is happening too fast; your brain doesn’t have time to catch up.

A fleet of black SUVs pull up to the lot. Out of the first one climbs Griffin.

Bile rises in your throat at the sight of him. He was supposed to help you find your father; he was supposed to be one of the good ones. You should’ve known that his golden retriever personality was a façade.

Griffin walks toward you, concern written all across his face. He reaches down and picks you up, untying your binds and carefully peeling off the tape from your face. The second your hands are free, you push him away.

“What the fuck is going on?” You shout, tossing your gag onto the ground. Griffin places a hand on your shoulder, and you shrug him off, hating the way his hand feels on you.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he says, getting close to you again. This time, he grips your arm so hard you think it’ll leave bruises.

“And to answer your question,” a new man says, approaching you from where he’d been leaning against one of the cars. “We’re here to collect you and your father.” The man is tall, but not as tall as Loki, with short chestnut brown hair.

“Collect?” You size up the new man and try not to show your intimidation. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s wealthy. His clothes and shoes are high-end. He’s practically broadcasting how rich he is.

“Yes. Collect. My name is Helmut Zemo. You and your father are of great value to the Zemo Family. With your help, we can take down the Laufeyson Family permanently, ridding this town of his filthy ways.” Your heart practically stops beating in your chest.

That night Jack Rollins had tried to take you was because of Zemo. He’s trying to take down Loki using you.

“I won’t let you,” you say, trying to sound more confident than you truly are. You have no idea how you’ll stop them.

“He’s an awful man,” Griffin says from beside you, using his grip on your arm to turn you back toward him. “He’s done despicable things.”

Helmut pulls his phone out of his pocket and comes closer. He hands you the phone, and you see footage of Loki beating up a man and then killing him. Over and over, but each time, it is a new man on the receiving end of Loki’s fury. Levi and Cade are there, throwing punches and assisting their boss.

This is the side of Loki you saw that night in the west wing. This violent version of him is the one that killed the bound man.

You’ve always known Loki is not an angel; he’s done awful things in his life, but you know he would never hurt you. And he’s changed. He’s kinder to his staff. He just seems… better.

Your voice catches in your throat at the sight of Loki in the footage. “I know he seems vicious, but he’s kind and gentle.” Your heart tugs in your chest. “He’s not the beast you think he is.” The men around you burst out in laughter, Griffin the loudest of them all.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had feelings for this monster.” He rips the screen from your hands and stares down at the image of Loki.

“He’s no monster, Griffin. You are!” You spit the words at him like fire, trying to burn him.

Griffin turns to the men around him, an incredulous look on his face. “She’s as crazy as the old man.”

Helmut leans down in front of you, so you have to look into his eyes. “Loki had no issue taking you; what makes you think he won’t come for other women? Other daughters? He’ll come after them in the night like the boogieman.” His voice is calm, so eerily calm.

Your eyes flit from man to man, hoping to see something, anything to show that they don’t believe any of the shit he’s spouting, but all you see is them nodding. Agreeing with Griffin and Helmut’s lies. “No,” you whimper as Griffin’s smile grows, stretching across his face.

“We’re not safe until his head is mounted on my wall,” Griffin spits. “I say we kill him.” His voice sounds nothing like him; this is not the Griffin you thought you knew.

Helmut’s men cheer and laugh at the announcement.

A few men approach Helmut, who switches the screen from old footage of Loki to blueprints of the house. They exchange plans on how best to infiltrate the house, how to make his death slow and painful.

A sob wracks your body at their words. “No! I won’t let you do this,” you shout, drawing Griffin’s attention back to you. He pulls you toward him, so you land on his chest, and you push against him, forcing him back a step. He just laughs at you.

“And here I thought you could be so helpful.” Griffin grips your chin and squeezes it like you’re a child. “If you’re not with us, you’re against us. Bring the old man.” Griffin grabs your upper arm again, and you claw at his grip. It is no use. As you fight against him, you see Helmut grab your father, dragging him toward the freight container.

“Get your hands off him!” You scream, voice laced with pain. Zemo and Griffin throw you and your father into the container and bolt it shut before you have the chance to even stand.

“We can’t have them running off to warn the beast,” Griffin taunts, knocking loudly on the metal container.

“Let us out!” You scream, but no one responds.

You set your father free of his binds, instantly able to see that he’s in pain.

“How will we get out of here?” Your father asks, rubbing his wrists where the binds had been.

“I don’t know, Papa. I don’t know.”

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pancake-breakfast · 1 year

Text

This is it, everyone. The last volume. The final week. The end of an era.

I'm not ready.

Stream-of-consciousness thoughts for TriMax Vol. 14, Chapters 1-3 below.

Chapter 14 Covers

Mind Games, huh? I think Nightow is playing his own mind games with the readers with this bright-and-cheerful fully-blond Vash image here.

Oh, he just HAD to sneak a tiny Wolfwood into the joke cover. Rude.

The back cover is Vash doing his whole love and peace thing. But will this manga end with love and peace? Guess we'll be finding out real soon, huh?

Haahhaha, Chibi Legato looks terrified he's going to fall. It's cute.

GET THAT FEATHER, KURONEKO-SAMA! GET IT!!!

These titles are all so dramatic.

Chapter 1: When Rivalry Comes To An End

CW: Body horror

Gotta get that full ensemble shot in here before the end. I particularly appreciate that the way he drew Livio suggests Razlo is there, too. Though I'll note even here we're not allowed to see Wolfwood's full face.

"I've been livin' by my gun longer than you've been alive!" Hahahahahaha, that's what YOU think.

LOL, Vash's whole reaction to this is gold. He's so casual, and then he realizes the sheer level of discordance with his looks versus his age when people think he's human, panics, and rapidly changes the subject.

I feel like it's unfair to call this a rivalry. The whole of the rivalry is located in Legato's head.

Ugh, them fighting with all the debris falling around them. It's crazy. I wonder if we'll get to see this animated in Stampede.

Vash isn't gonna have any energy or power left for Knives at this rate.

Look at him. He looks so happy.

Yeah, Legato's right. This seems like a severe lack of foresight on Vash's part. Legato was literally giving him trouble back at the beginning of all this before Legato gave him the activated box.

*sigh* Vash is really into burning this Last Run juice here, isn't he. Idiot.

Dude, Legato, now you're polar opposites? I thought you just decided you and Vash were kinnies in the last volume.

I have no idea what's going on here. Legato is screaming. I got that much. I think maybe he destroyed Vash's prosthetic arm?

Awww, is that Little Elendira? What, did Knives just find a bunch of bitter, bitter children and decide to raise them to be bitter, bitter adults??

If Vash pulls the trigger, he simultaneously loses and wins. But... I know how this fight ends.

Heh. And here Vash is, still refusing.

Legato, honey, baby, my boy. Don't. It's ok if you don't get shot. It really really is.

Welp, that's grotesque and terrifying.

Godsdammit, I know how this is gonna play out, but part of me really, REALLY hoped I just heard wrong. It wouldn't be the first time. But the pieces are all in place now, and set up in the right positions, so....

Legato, you asshole. How dare you reduce Livio to only having worth as a tool! I mean, I get it. It's how Legato sees himself, and thus it's how he defines things, but it still stings.

And suddenly Vash is faced with a trolley problem he's not sure he can avoid or solve by other means.

WhAT is THIS??!!!?!?! Sudden Wolfwood?!

Chapter 2: Overkill

Oh, this isn't even Livio here. It's Raz. Not that the result wouldn't be the same.

Did... Vash shoot?

Yeah.... Yeah, he did. I like how Nightow doesn't focus on the violence of it, but instead on the grief of it. Just the simplicity of Vash's knee hitting the ground in defeat, and the place where Legato should be standing or kneeling or whatever in front of him is empty, instead replaced by just his feet and the edge of his cloak.

Just the way he couldn't let humans die because Rem gave her life to protect them, Vash can't let Livio die when Wolfwood gave his life to save him. He's still mourning that he had to make this choice. He still hates this situation. It's not a deed done with a clear conscious. It's just the path he can live with better.

Aww, Livio's trying to get Vash out of there. He knows Vash is in a bad place. I honestly think he could figure that out even if Vash's hair hadn't gone so dark.

Meanwhile, all Vash can think of is Wolfwood.

Meanwhile, it looks like Knives has gone to space to meet his new friends up close and personal.

Either whatever he's paying attention to is REALLY important or he's just lying a trap for them. Maybe both?

Well, if the Earth Fleet can't stop itself, then I guess Knives will have to stop them.

Heh, Milly having to call Meryl by her actual name to get her attention.

They've found Vash! And Livio!

Oooh, Meryl just took one look at this situation and already knows how bad it is before Livio starts explaining.

This panel is... I dunno. This panel is feels.

Is Vash having a bit of a breakdown? What's he gonna shoot at??

Bless Meryl. She's doing so much for him right now. She's probably been thinking about this sort of thing since they parted ways before. She's ready now, and she's going to do her best. Just because it's a non-combat maneuver doesn't mean it's not important.

Six ships all aimed at each other with Knives in the middle, going for a smoosh move? Welp, this is bad.

Wait, are they talking to the Plants Knives has absorbed?? Silly me, I thought they were just gonna chat with the bulbed ones.

Chapter 3: Side By Side

What in the zombie wasteland even are these first few pages??

Knives looks very unconcerned by his supposed impending smooshing.

Are these flashes to just after the Great Fall, maybe?

Gods, these random dramatic floating feathers are so late '90's/early 2000's. All you kidses don't even know. Personally, I blame CLAMP.

OH THEY ARE CRYSTALLINE FEATHERS??!! WANT.

Hahahaha, this kid got biffed on the head by one. Also, there sure are a lot of them. Is this the Plants bleeding themselves off of Knives, maybe?

Oh, the Plants are making the people resonate with each other the way the Plants resonate with each other. That's... a thing.

Ah, yeah, these are definitely flashbacks. The town is growing up around the Plant.

Oh, NOW Knives decides to pay attention to his whole body going all vibratey.

"We need the support of more people." This reminds me of Horton Hears a Who. Like, they just need more individuals making noise and then the Plants will hear them.

Yeah.... Really, it doesn't even take 100 years for abuse to leave a very nasty mark that might be impossible to reach past.

"Be on the lookout for any retaliation." Knives looks VERY ready to retaliate.

This Plant just wanted to help, but everything kept dissolving into violence....

...but there were good people, too. People who wanted to help and to learn and to teach others and to give thanks.

Hahahahaha, this is the "more people." They're the people in the past. This feels soooo much like Vash remembering the people of July and thinking that, regardless of what else they were or could have been, there were so many he knew that were just... kind.

Dude, this guy here just telling Knives off. Not sure if he's got balls of steel or if he's just ignorant or if he's just dealt with enough renegade Independents to call them as he sees 'em.