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pricefieldsuperiority · 3 days

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Yearning Allegations

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn

Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time. Is there any chance she likes you too?

Paige Bueckers was your best friend.

She was also one of the most popular players on the Uconn Huskies.

Although many loved her, none of them knew her like you did. Most certainly, none of them loved her like you did.

You had known her since the first year of high school, where you two hit it off in English class, teasing her about how slowly she read. She had just shot some stupid comment back at you, and from then on, you two were inseparable - which is why you were sitting courtside at this very moment, happily watching her play.

"And that's time, another win for Uconn!!"

The announcer shouted loud as Paige threw the basketball at the last second, arcing perfectly into the net. She beamed wide as she turned around, her cheeks pink with pride, scanning the crowd for you. Her eyes seemed to shine a little brighter, or so you thought, upon landing on you.

She grinned in your direction, nodding slightly at you, as she ran past you to congratulate her teammates. They tackled her, nearly knocking her over. The crowd's roar was racious in your ears, their shouts nearly as loud as yours. Uconn had won again. You smiled to yourself, Paige was gonna be absolutely insufferable after this. She always was after games like these.

You waited patiently outside the change rooms, scrolling mindlessly on tiktok, waiting for Paige to finish up. Usually, she stayed a few extra minutes afterward, yapping with the team about whatever, and then would come out with KK, jokingly bickering about some nonsense. You hadn't been waiting more than 5 minutes when Paige came bounding out alone, grinning proudly. You grinned back, amused. She was like a 6 ft tall puppy.

"Yooo y/n, did you see me out there??!" Paige threw her arm around you as you guys started the familiar walk to her dorm. After wins, she'd refuse to let you get any work done so you didn't even bother going back to your dorm at this point.

"Yeah, I saw!!" You say, unable to stop yourself from smiling back. Paige's smile was genuinely infectious.

"Dude, I'm the best hooper at Uconn for reallll hahah." Her laughter echos around the hallway.

You roll your eyes and pat the hand she has draped over your shoulder.

"Ehhhh, I think you're alright"

Paige scoffs at you, eyebrows raised.

"Come on, just alright?? You love me, don't lie. " Her eyes are alight with happiness and you fight the corners of your mouth, looking away.

"That play at the end was eh, I've seen better"

Paige rolls her eyes, scoffing yet again before holding the door open for you, leaning against it.

"You're a terrible liar y/n"

Before you can reply, Paige ruffles your hair, and you bat her hand away, complaining. She grabs your hand, and you bodycheck her, but to no avail, cause she takes off running to her dorm just to annoy you on purpose. But you laugh anyway, cause it's so typical Paige.

---

It's only a few days later when you find yourself at an infamous Uconn house party, and the alcohol in your system is making your cheeks feel warm. Your red solo cup of vodka is half empty, and you peer at it, wondering if you should leave your comfy spot on the kitchen counter.

You're admiring Paige from across the room, watching her talk to some fans.

She looks hot as hell tonight, dressed in a black cropped tank top and low waisted baggy black cargo pants. Her middriff is on display, and a tiny bit of her boxers peak out. For a second you wonder about what'd it feel like to put your hands there but you force yourself to stop thinking about her, nails digging into your palms as you take another sip of your drink.

Your feelings for Paige had only intensified over the years, becoming harder and harder to ignore as you two got older. In high school, you could just explain it all away because she was your best friend, but now? You guys had only become closer since starting at Uconn, and these days resisting the urge to make a move was becoming nearly unbearable, especially with the looming fact that everyone and their mother wanted Paige.

Normally, you'd just go over to her and yap her ear off, but the amount of alcohol you've had tonight makes you feel like being around her might be a bit dangerous.

So instead, you just stare from afar, watching her put her arm around the girl who's exclaiming she's "her biggest fan." You roll your eyes, inner monologue already snarkly thinking that Paige gets told that at least once a day.

You're so engrossed in watching Paige take pictures- she's now laughing with the fan over some stupid joke- that you don't notice KK's slid over to you.

"Damn girl, you really ain't beating the yearning allegations huh"

Her voice shocks you out of your reverie, and you glance over at her.

"Huh!?? What do you mean-"

KK's eyes are knowing, and she just raises one brow as she pours herself a new drink.

"Boo, we all see the way you look at her"

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. Although you're pretty sure the whole team already knows how you feel, you still refuse to admit it cause what if that got back to Paige? You want her, but not more than your friendship. You could never forgive yourself if something happened to you two. You resist the urge to do anything about how you feel solely to protect your friendship.. but also because you're scared. What if she doesn't like you like that? It'd probably just make everything awkward anyway.

"I don't know what you're talking about- Paige's just my friend." You keep your voice steady, but your expression darkens as you see the girl is STILL talking to Paige, her hand lingering on Paige's waist as she draws back from a hug.

"Uh huh.. whatever you say, " KK says, leaving the kitchen with her refill.

A few minutes later, you're busy answering some texts when Paige comes over.

"Hey, KK told me you're being all edgy and hiding out in the kitchen instead of having fun at the party. You're scaring off the hoes, dude. "

Paige is always more affectionate than normal when she's drunk, and tonight is no different. She places her hand on your thigh, grinning as she peers at your face, and you look at her for a few seconds before you move off the counter to stand.

"I'm not hiding, I was dancing a bit ago I just got tired-" This is technically not a lie, considering you did dance for a few minutes before deciding to become the next Joe Goldberg.

"Rightttt..." Paige towers over you, an annoying fact that hasn't changed since high school.

You're about to reply with some smart ass answer when some girl walks into the kitchen, cup in hand, her jaw dropping open as she spots Paige.

"Oh my God, Paige Bueckers?!?" The girl's voice raises practically 3 octaves, and you feel so annoyed you resist the urge to just sigh at the sight.

"I love you so much! I was watching you the other day - that final score was so good you really clutched the game-" The girl gushes, her hand resting on Paige's arm. Paige is, of course, grinning broadly. She loves the attention - and you can practically feel a headache coming on from the sound of the girl's voice.

"My head hurts real bad, gonna go back to my dorm-" You murmur as you pass Paige to leave.

"Oh, are you okay?" Her attention is momentarily distracted by your leave, and you try to inject some pep into your voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

---

Authors note: Hope yall don't mind a slowburn! Thought it'd be cute to make a short series <3

Trilogy: Part 2 here / Part 3 here

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn #Spotify #slow burn #friends to lovers #uconn wbb #fanfic

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yelenasdiary · 2 days

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hi!!

with this new yelena content, i have a "sort of" request??

i mean, i have like a phrase that buzzes in my head, a phrase that if it were said to Yelena the entire fandom would break down in pain.

so, the quote is this: "i want to be able to worry about you"

it is possible, even in the future, to have a fanfiction or even a short one shot with yelena x r, and r says this to Yelena?

the context of why that phrase is said I would leave up to you to decide :)

(or maybe all this only makes sense in my head, idk lol)

Drunken Sober Thoughts

Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN! Reader.

Summary: When Kate's birthday party comes to an end, you and Yelena find yourselves alone.

Angst, Fluff.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, Mentions of death, Reader has dark thoughts. This is not proof read or corrected | 0.8K

AC: I loved this idea, I hope you enjoy it! x

Red and blue plastic cups littered the rooftop of Kate's studio apartment, the young Avenger had just celebrated her 24th birthday and threw a little party with her closest friends. Kate has been one of your closest friends since you recruited her to the team, and although you were a few years older than her, you've seen her more as a little sister than anything else.

She introduced you to Yelena shortly after she had joined the new Avengers team, you already had some kind of background on Yelena from Clint but the two of you seemed to grow close quickly.

"What's going on inside of the big, smart brain of yours?" Yelena's accent brought your thoughts back to reality as she took a seat down next to you, the two of you now looking over the city of New York. You took a sip of your drink and smiled softly, "nothing new" you replied.

Your comment made Yelena frown, "come on, you talk to me" she said, placing her red cup beside her. "You've been a little distant recently and I know you don't like to worry Kate but she's worried too" the blonde added. You couldn't help but sigh to yourself. "You don't have to worry about me, nor does Kate" you replied before taking another sip of your drink.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Yelena spoke again, "you know, you remind a lot of Natasha sometimes" she said, looking over at you.

"Natasha was a very smart and respected woman" you replied, looking back at her.

"Yes, but she too was closed off. Although I only got to spend a little time with her, she was happy. You gave her a family when she needed one and now your family has retired but you haven't?" Yelena questioned, "why not?" she added.

You shrugged, "I guess, outside of being an Avenger, I have nothing. An empty home, nothing to keep my mind from replaying everything that ever happened in my life plus, Kate keeps me busy"

"You're hiding" Yelena said, taking a sip of her drink once more.

"Hiding?" You questioned with a frown. Yelena nodded, "you're using this new Avengers team as an excuse to let yourself be happy"

You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, "trust me, I am not someone that somebody wants to come home to every night"

"I do" Yelena said softly.

You looked over at Yelena to find her already looking you in the eyes. The look in her eyes told you everything, a simple look and you knew what she was about to say. "Yelena" you started.

"I know, I know what you're going to say and you can try to tell me just how much you don't think you're worth it but I want to be able to worry about you, I want to be able to come home to you, I want to see the world with you, to take you out for dates and do all those little things that love so much.

I don't want to waste what is the rest of my life letting my past control what I do and how I feel, I've had feelings for you since that day you came to Nat's tombstone on her birthday. You left her favorite flowers you didn't leave the site until you knew I was okay. We had only met twice, and you had it in your heart to be there so a stranger. I think about that day a lot" she explained.

Your mind went back to that day, Yelena sat with Nat for hours. You didn't mind waiting and making sure she would be okay, after all, you promised Nat that you would be there for her whenever she needed, and something told you that day that Yelena needed somebody to watch over her.

"You would've done the same" you replied.

Yelena shook her head, "if I didn't know you, no I wouldn't" she replied honestly.

"Yelena, you're probably just drunk, you don't mean any of this" you added, rising from your seat, "it's late, I should probably make sure Kate isn't chocking on her own vomit" you added.

Before you knew it, Yelena had a grip on your wrist, not a hard grip but even to make you stop trying to walk away from her. She pulled you closer to her, never breaking her eye contact with you, "I can handle my vodka, but I can't bare another moment without you" she spoke softly before kissing you deeply. You dropped the plastic cup in your hand, letting it hit the ground and splashing your drink as you found yourself wrapping your arms around the back of her neck, deepening the kiss.

You pulled away for air as a tear rolled down your cheek, Yelena smiling softly as she wiped it away with her thumb, "don't worry about Kate, she's been drinking punch for the last two hours" she said, making you chuckle.

"You're not going to reject this in the morning, right?" You asked as worry filled your eyes.

"Not in a million years" Yelena replied.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #Yelena Belova x reader #natasha #Kate bishop

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 hours

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WIBTA if I asked my girlfriend to get me a replacement mask?

So I and my girlfriend (both adults) are in a long-distance relationship and live on different continents but visit each other for periods of weeks to months at a time. As background context, my girlfriend is notoriously bad with money - she's owed me over $1500 for half a year now after I covered some big expenses for her when she was unable to save in time, though I've told her there's no particular deadline for giving it back and to just do it when she's able, but she's also borrowed money from her parents, she's paying off a credit card debt, and despite having a full-time job she seems completely unable to save anything substantial and is constantly buying things.

We both like a certain musician, and this shared interest in the musician is actually how we met in the first place and bonded. They've dropped some merch in the past, and it always sold out within 5-10 minutes, and they're borderline impossible to get now unless you a) are lucky enough to find another fan who's giving theirs away, which is super rare because of how hard they are to replace, or b) are willing to fork out thousands of dollars for a resold one on some dodgy site somewhere. One of the merch items I got from one of those drops was a facemask, and my girlfriend has a matching one - I can't remember if it was something I bought for her, since I did that with some merch if I got there in time, or one she bought herself. It became a huge comfort item for me - I'm both autistic and have avoidant personality disorder, so I'm almost always in some kind of mask to hide my face, and this one being connected to a special interest as well as comfortable and a perfect size (and goes with all my clothes!) made me super happy. Last time she visited, we joked around about having identical masks but that it was easy to tell which one was hers because it had makeup stains all over the inside.

As she packed to leave, I mentioned that I couldn't find my mask anywhere and asked if she'd picked mine up as well as hers by accident, so she dug through her bags and said she didn't have it, only hers. I was kinda disappointed but I figured it'd turn up sooner or later so I accepted it, and she flew back home.

A few days later, she let me know she'd unpacked and discovered she actually did have both our masks. I asked her to send it back to me, and she said she would.

Fast forward a few months, I'd asked a few more times, and she always said she would soon. Eventually, when I asked one time, she told me she'd lost it. Her mother had tidied her entire room and she no longer had any idea where either of our masks were. I was kind of frustrated so I asked why she couldn't have just sent it over when I initially asked, and she snapped back that she couldn't afford it, which doesn't make much sense to me because she definitely does have enough to send over a flat envelope, which a fabric face mask would easily fit in just like a letter.

It's been a few months since then and I've been looking and looking for any kind of replacement, but all I can find are knock-off versions that are made from different materials or don't look the same. I did see one resold for like $20 ages ago, so it definitely happens, but it's so rare.

WIBTA if I told my girlfriend I'm expecting her to replace the one she lost even if it's putting more financial pressure on her? I feel really dumb for getting so upset about a mask, but it was one of my favourite belongings and it's genuinely upsetting that it was taken and lost.

To get out ahead of any comment saying it, I have full 100% faith that she did not do it intentionally and she didn't sell it or anything like that. She wouldn't have even thought about the possibility of doing that and I absolutely believe it was an accident and she just grabbed both masks or had been holding onto mine for me and forgotten it was in a bag etc.

#aita #am i the asshole

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whoopsyeahokay · 2 days

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October Sun

summary: Simon had been on the verge of getting the fuck out of Dodge, the enormity of everything he'd found out starting to bog him down. He hadn't been able to do it alone, not anymore, not even for Maddie. Thankfully, the universe had heard him and had held out an olive branch.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.11

Simon crept to his car, a tactical advance, hunched low to the ground and clinging to the shadows as far as they would take him. He was afraid, adrenaline pumping, heart pounding in his ears; he didn't want Mr. Anderson to find him sneaking around the school a second time. Not after what he and Maddie had uncovered in the supply closet.

Mr. Anderson had propelled up Simon's short list of suspects to the top spot, the cache of money a sure sign the man was up to no good. Simon didn't have a lot of experience with society's seedy underbelly, but if movies had taught him anything, it's that normal people didn't hide stacks of cash outside of their homes unless they expected a police raid.

Was Mr. Anderson a drug dealer? Some kind of kingpin moonlighting as a high school English teacher? It was the perfect disguise. Cops would never think of a man who works with teenagers capable of that level of corruption. At least, not in Split River. No matter how many problems the town had, it wasn't that degree of shitty.

Only, Mr. Anderson had seemed nervous; a man forced onto a ledge at gunpoint. Threatened. Scared.

Okay, Simon reasoned, so Mr. Anderson wasn't a high-ranking drug lord. But he was definitely on the wrong side of the law and was obviously desperate. And desperate people were unpredictable when they felt backed into a corner.

He'd claimed he'd given Maddie what sounded like had been a large sum of money. A bribe, maybe. One that, in the end, hadn't been enough to convince Mr. Anderson she wouldn't rat on him. The thought made Simon's stomach churn, bile burning the back of his throat.

Maddie had been wrecked by the discovery, hands shaking from a surge of emotion too enormous to contain. She'd held it together long enough to caution Simon not to contaminate the evidence by touching it, assuring him she'd count it after he was safely off campus.

She'd shooed him from the classroom, "You have to leave, now," eyes watery as Mr. Anderson's betrayal finally seemed to register. "I've got this, okay? Just go."

Simon had done as ordered. What good would he be if Mr. Anderson took him out next?

He peeled out of the parking lot and into the road, lightheaded as a thousand and one questions flooded his brain. His chest tightened, breathing labored, and—God, shit, he hadn't had a panic attack since middle school but, since Maddie's disappearance last Friday, they'd made a grand comeback. Kept him awake at night when there was nothing left to distract him from what could've happened to his best friend.

"Fuck." Simon rasped, smacking the steering wheel with his palm. And then, increasing in volume and intensity, "Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!" He beat the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn once and startling a woman walking her dog.

"Sorry!" He called, sheepish, through the open driver's side window, flashing a hand in apology. He didn't wait for a reaction, simply continued to drive home.

The thought of interacting with his parents put him on edge. He didn't know how he was supposed to stay quiet about Mr. Anderson. Noticeably off the last few days, Simon had already endured three separate lectures about drug use, depression, and sexuality respectively.

His parents' unconditional support, though amazing, made him feel like garbage—or, more accurately, a landfill—for causing them to worry to the point of draping a rainbow flag over the back of the couch and reassuring him that, "Love is love, mijo. We just want you to be happy."

Even if he could slip past his dad, his mother would undoubtedly pick up that whatever plot she suspected Simon of hiding had thickened. And, frankly, if she asked just right, Simon knew he'd crack and tell her everything. About Xavier, about Mr. Anderson...about developing The fucking Shining and assuming the role of Watson to his best friend's ghost.

Buying himself some time, Simon took turns he didn't have to; drove through random neighborhoods as he tried to think up a plausible excuse for his behavior that wouldn't result in another intervention. He didn't have it in him to watch his mother's face crumple as he lied to her again. The umpteenth time that week.

He needed to talk to someone. To get it out of himself and share the burden. His skin felt too tight and his bones too heavy and he couldn't carry the weight of Maddie's murder mystery alone.

And then, as if God had heard him, Simon's prayers were answered.

Without thinking it through, he pulled over and beeped his horn to get your attention before you turned onto the path that margined the small, neighborhood greenspace.

Clambering sideways to get out of his car, his foot caught on a pedal, seatbelt still hooked, Simon called out, "Hey!" grunting when he was knocked back into his seat by the strap. He took a second to collect himself, unbuckled his seatbelt, and climbed out in a less frenzied manner.

"Uhhhmm, are you okay?" You asked, your face displaying how not okay you thought Simon was. You glanced up and down the street, puzzled, "What are you doing here? Don't you live in Cedar Bank?" A suburb on the other side of the river that bisected the town.

Simon debated whether or not it had been a good idea to stop, but he didn't think he could give you an excuse and drive away, either. He dimly sympathized with how Mr. Anderson had felt back in that classroom; splitting threads pulled through the eye of a needle.

He summoned his resolve and turned to face you, "I need to tell you something."

You cocked your head, looked Simon over, and nodded slowly. Simon could tell you were trying to determine what this was about. Realized as you walked him into the little playpark and took a seat on one of the two swings, that he'd come out of nowhere in a move that could easily be interpreted as stalkerish.

"I could give you a lift home if you wanna talk in the car?" He offered, settling into the second swing all the same. The park was deserted, dark, the glow of the streetlights falling short by a few meters.

You shook your head and hooked your thumb over your shoulder, "That's literally my backyard."

Simon followed your indication and saw the top half of an antique build, painted a deep royal purple and trimmed in evergreen, that peaked over a tall, bushy hedgerow. A wooden fence several inches shorter than your family's hedges divided the public space from private property, running the length of the park behind your house and a few others.

"Huh." Simon returned his gaze to yours, "Never mind."

"Did you talk to Nicole?" You asked, possibly thinking that that was what Simon wanted to discuss.

He fiddled with his hands, closed his eyes, and supported his head on the metal chain that held the swing up. "No." He stated honestly. He needed to tell you about Mr. Anderson. Just. Start talking. But the words kept sticking in this throat.

"Simon? You're starting to scare me, is everything okay? Is this..." You trailed off and when you spoke again, you sounded uncertain, "Is this about Maddie?"

"Kind of," Simon admitted, pressing the meat of his palms into his eyes. "Screw it," He spun the swing so he faced you completely and then simply...uncorked the bottle, "I found a shit ton of money in Mr. Anderson's classroom. Like, wads of it. Probably thousands of dollars hidden in the wall in the closet."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

What the f u u u u u u ck.

One minute you'd been on your way home, trying to parse out why the connection between you and Wally had gone dormant as soon as you'd left him, and now, there you were, listening to Simon basically tell you that he'd unmasked Mr. Anderson like a Scooby-Doo villain.

You didn't have that on your Everything is FUBAR bingo card, that's for sure.

Okay. Okay. This was...big. Huge. And, "Holy shit, maybe that's why he freaked on me in the theater," you said, mostly to yourself though you knew Simon would hear it.

"He what?"

You looked at Simon, "Earlier, I was—" Lie like a smart girl, "—looking for something Tilly forgot in the theater and he found me. But, Simon," You stood, started to pace, "He was acting paranoid like I found his dead mom à la Norman Bates. He practically threw me out of there." Which was, fine, a mild exaggeration, but Mr. Anderson's paranoia hadn't been. "I've never seen him like that. And he kept getting these phone calls that made him even more angry."

"Wait, what do you mean 'phone calls'? Did you hear anything?"

"No, just that he needed a minute. I guess to go find somewhere I wouldn't hear him."

Simon was standing now, pacing in a pattern the reverse of yours.

"He was on the phone when I saw him. Talking to someone about how he shouldn't have given Maddie money."

You felt like the sky had fallen on your head, "He gave Maddie money? Is that why she..." You'd wanted to say ran away, a kneejerk reaction borne from days of convincing yourself she'd just put Split River in the rearview. With what you knew now, you settled for, "Disappeared?"

Simon appeared to notice your choice of wording, peered at you like a math problem, but didn't mention it, instead revealing, "It's a line of inquiry."

You rubbed your temples to ease away the migraine that was building. Today had been too much; too many things unfolding one after the other: First hearing from Wally that Maddie was a ghost, and then just Wally and everything you had to unpack with that, and now Mr. Anderson's apparent criminal activity that may or may not have had a direct impact on Maddie's being a ghost in the first place.

Of course, you reminded yourself, she wasn't a ghost because, again, you couldn't see. her. Which meant that, if he was involved, Mr. Anderson had drugged her to the point of a coma and had hidden her body somewhere.

"Oh my God," You moaned dismally, "This is so f u c k e d." As the gears turned, something niggled at the back of your mind. "Simon," you ended your pacing to lift your gaze and regard Simon closely, "Why were you there?"

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Simon knew he had to give you something, but, Jesus Christ, he was nervous. He'd already decided not to admit he could see Maddie, unable to believe that you wouldn't tell a trusted adult. And he wasn't keen on getting pumped full of antipsychotics and locked in a padded room, thanks.

You watched him, eyes hard, jaw set, more serious than he'd ever seen you, "Simon, what the hell?"

He swallowed, opting for half-truths, because he'd come this far. He needed help. A confidante. Would've preferred Nicole but she'd galivanted off with Xavier, apparently, and took the choice out of Simon's hands.

"I've been looking for clues about what happened to Maddie," Simon confessed, a weight lifting from his shoulders. "Since the search on Monday, when Xavier got arrested—"

You interrupted, fierce, loyal, "He wasn't arrested, Si. His dad was just taking him to the station to give an official statement."

"In the back seat?" Simon deadpanned.

"There's no room in the front of the cruiser!" You threw your hands up as if dealing with the situation would drive you to drink.

"With the lights on?"

"Because there was a crowd of people practically throwing themselves at the car to get Xavier's face on video."

Simon conceded and resituated himself on one of the swings. You followed his example, though, this time, you shrugged off your backpack and dropped it in the sand beside you.

"So, what do we do?" Simon wanted to know, close to getting on his knees and begging you to take the reigns on this because he was exhausted.

"Alright." You shifted to straddle your swing, hands in front of you as you counted details on your fingers. "We know that Maddie went missing on Friday. We know Xavier had nothing to do with it." Your eyes narrowed, daring Simon to comment. He didn't. "We know that Mr. Anderson is hiding money and that he gave some to Maddie. To keep her quiet?"

"That's what we-" Simon tensed, quickly undoing his mistake, "I'm thinking." That intense look of scrutiny was back on your face and Simon resisted the urge to gulp. Three days ago Simon had figured you for the only person who'd believe him about Maddie's ghost. My how times have changed.

"If he was hiding money in his classroom, he could be hiding other things around the school, too." You rationalized. "Like the theater. I bet you anything that there's something he doesn't want us to find in there."

True. In fact, "Do you think he's hiding Maddie in there?"

"What, like, under the stage? That'd be pretty risky. And the cops went through every room in the school with search and rescue dogs and everything. Wouldn't they have found her if she was down there?"

Simon deflated, "Good point," reluctant to add that those dogs probably weren't the type trained to find cadavers.

"Right." You paused, either to organize your thoughts or analyze Simon further, he wasn't sure, but you soon continued, tone weak, "Simon, if he did have something to do with Maddie...I take back what I said before."

"About?"

You shrunk into yourself, forcing "Maddie being okay," as if the words had to be wrenched out of you. "I don't want to believe Mr. Anderson could've hurt her but." You blinked a rapid dozen times up at the sky, visibly shaken as you considered the worst, "I don't think she's okay."

A lump formed in Simon's throat. He was all too aware of the painful truth. His vision blurred, nostrils prickled, the enormity of the situation closing in on him.

"Yeah," He sniffed, "Me neither."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Neither you nor Simon were aware that, only ten feet away, crouched in the bushes, a figure wearing Simon's best friend's face had heard everything.

Cold.

Hungry.

And without an iota of guilt.

💀___________________________

PART TEN

note: thank you so much for reading, lovelies! i'm currently working on the next update (which is Reader/Wally-focused) and am hopeful that it'll be ready by the end of this week! so keep an eye out 👀 (@banana-lol no accidents pls 😉)

if you'd like to be kept up to date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS, since the taglist has malfunctioned 🙈 i'm still adding ppl to it, but i can't guarantee that it'll notify you when i update 💀

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #zed necrodopolis #Disney Zombies #Simon Elroy #Kristian Flores

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aboutwerewolves · 4 hours

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@lulz-nematode-belmont ask and you shall receive 🫶🏻 and i'm sorry this took soooo long.

Since you were little you've always feared monsters and the dark. Especially the monster under your bed. But as you grew up, you managed to convince yourself that it was just a myth. But now, as you've moved to your new house, over the course of past few months, you feel that the monster under the bed thing wasn't just a myth to scare children.

You wake up in the morning, not even remembering when you went to bed, with bruises on your thighs and your pussy sore. You tried setting up a camera, but "somehow" the camera didn't record anything except darkness.

This time around, you're prepared to stay awake the entire night, so you get in your bed and close your eyes. After almost an hour, you feel your blanket being pulled down from over you. You remain still, and you feel giant hands on your thighs spreading your legs apart.

You feel a presence hover over you, and suddenly you switch on the lights, just to see a tall dark figure, he looks almost like a human, except he has a skin that matches the darkness of the night, his hair as white as snow. His face is pleasing to look at. Even the razor sharp teeth, you feel safe with him around, he starts to retreat wide eyed, but your voice stops him— "You've been visiting me?"

"Yeah" he replies kind of guilty. "I'm not....mad, just surprised" you laugh. "What have you been doing in your visits?" you add on. "I've been fucking you with my tongue. Couldn't resist" he speaks softly.

You blush at his straightforwardness about what he had been doing. Honestly you didn't mind, just hoped that you could've stayed awake while he was busy eating you out. "You're aroused?"he grunts. Your eyes widen, how could he sense that? You, yourself couldn't. "Am I?" you ask to no one in particular.

"Yeah, more so than the other days." he replies anyways. "Now what?" you question to him. "I can leave if you want me to, but if you want me to stay, just know you'll never get rid of me. You will be mine and I will be yours." he replies, his voice turning dark at the end.

You pause for a bit and then just say one word, "Stay." And all hell breaks loose, you're on your back, legs spread, shorts ripped apart and him face to face with your cunt. You try to close your legs out of shyness but he holds them apart, his voice rough as he speaks "Don't try hiding yourself from me, sunshine. You're all mine."

He then wordlessly licks up your pussy. His teeth carefully toy with your clit. He eats you out with so much vigor, it makes your back arch off the bed, and he pins you down by your hips to the bed. He gets so messy, it's like he's eating you out for his own pleasure rather than yours. He continues his ministrations on your poor cunt and you cum around his tongue. He keeps on going until you come 3-4 times more.

"I think that's enough for you tonight. yeah?" He speaks. You're too tired to say anything and wordlessly pull him closer to you to cuddle him.

#monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster smut #monster x human #tw teratophilia #teratophillia #terato #monster under the bed #monster #monster bf #monster romance #monster x reader #monster x you #tw monsterfucking #monsterfucking nsft #monster nsft

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inactivewattpadauthor · 3 days

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Shang Tsung x Witch Reader: I've Changed

Context: After finally escaping the void, Shang slips from supervision briefly to meet and request the help of an old friend. (Shaky ass friendship ngl) ~~~~~~~~~~~~ The old wooden clock on the wall ticks, filling the only sound in the empty shop. The short hand lines with the tenth hour, making you relieved to flip your sign close. Another easy day done at your little potion store. Despite the little shack being a bit older and you get few customers each day, you were always proud of your progress.

You were proud to say you changed, once a typical barbaric witch, anew to a positive person. You stopped damning people with cruel spells and toxic potions, now you sold mostly healing/soothing ones, along giving spare lessons to those who wish to learn witchcraft. Sometimes, it's the other way around. There's always new things to learn.

Sweeping the dust off the creaking floorboards, you were startled as you were about to trip over a black ball of fur. "Oh- Raven! Jeez, I didn't see you." A meow was in response, your kitten peeking up at you, the only eye he has shining.

Gently you shooed him away so you could finish sweeping. "I'll give you a snack once I'm done, go on now." You tapped his bottom and chuckle when he runs off.

The welcome chimes of your door ring, abruptly distracting you. "Store's closed!" You groan out. Ugh, can't they see the sign? You kept your thoughts to yourself.

Slow footsteps sounded closer to you. "My, just look at you." That voice! You peer up to see an old face, literally and figuratively. Your hand released the ratchet broom, letting it hit the floor. You felt some sort of nostalgia, yet confusion. "Shang Tsung? All these years... where have you been?" You step closer to him.

The old man explains. His disappearance was caused by the Titaness Kronika after having no use for him any longer, casted outside the realms in some prison. All those years in his absence, you missed him prior to your change, but now he's here. The sorcerer grabs your hand, kissing it gently. One of his ways on showing affection to you when you both were still a duo of despair. "You've aged well." He comments.

Now, he focuses on the old shop. "So while I was missing, you put your devotion into this worn down hut?" The sorcerer asks. You can hear the hidden mockery in his voice. He looks at the potions on the shelves, and you knew he would find them comical. None of them were labelled poison or dangerous, all such themed beneficial items. Part of him was worried you would go soft.

"Yeah, business is well." You state, defending your dignity. "The store's closed, and I still have errands tonight, so I can't quite catch up with you at the mome-"

"I came here for your help, Y/n." Shang Tsung interrupts. Picking up a pinkish elixir, he glances at you with tease. "Love potions?"

"That's for serotonin releases." You remove the bottle from his distrustful hands. You knew he's joking, but it's distasteful. "Love potions are vile. It's no better than going to a bar and spiking someone's drink." You explain in disgust, yet Shang still carries his smirk.

He hasn't changed, of course. I miss him, but I need him to leave. "What do you need?"

"I need your spells, your power, Y/n. The ones that always brought great suffering to those. But great amusement to us." He rubs his gray beard as he requests apathetically. "I plan to keep working with Raiden and Fujin up to Kronika's Keep. If everything goes as my plan, I can rule over many worlds. We can rule over many worlds."

"No." You shake your head immediately. "I'm past all of that. I use my powers and knowledge for good now and I hope that is something you respect. Feel free to do whatever you like, but count me out."

The man is unsurprise, but presses on with you. "Changed for the better? What happened to you?"

"I found faith in the Elder Gods." You shrug. "Along with that, I feel disgusted with my former self. Not that you'd get it, but all those people we hurt..." You cringed and turn away from him in utter shame.

"I assume you're disgusted with me too?" Shang asks.

"Well, yeah, but it's not like you'd stop. And I can't stop you neither."

He agrees with you. Harming others was like his number one hobby other than evil schemes. But if you really have a change in heart, he wouldn't force you. "It saddens me to see that wicked heart turn gold. Oh well. When I get Kronika's throne to myself, I'll have your place beside me - if you want." He offers, circling you with his charming glance. You gave him an annoyed look like he didn't actually heed you.

"You don't have to hurt anyone." He raises his hands. "But you could end up the best enchantress across universes, or better yet, a titaness beside me."

"No, sorcerer." You sigh and deny him again. "I'm happy here. You're my friend, but I don't think I'd be comfortable on the side of a villain. It's fine enough if I just focus on my own thing."

"Very well." He steps back and bows. "I shall be going now before someone notices my disappearance. After my goals, I will return to you just for friendly measures. We didn't speak for a long period after all."

"Okay." A huge part of you wasn't rooting for it, but you were fine with chatting with a friend time to time. "And if you don't and end up fading out of existence, it was always nice having you - minus the malicious activities."

"Likewise, my friend. You were always a fantastic woman." ~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N for both Wattpad/Tumblr. Mostly just a vent but:

1. I feel the writer's block coming :') future writings are expected to have less quality as I'm running out of ideas and motivation. I literally had to go back to posting every 6 days instead of 3 so I don't end up running out of posts.

2. A friendly reminder - I'M NOT TAKING REQUESTS.

Not trying to pick at anyone but there's 2 places on both Wattpad + Tumblr that says I'm not doing request, yet people will still request a fic. I admit, I will leave those on read until they message me more times which makes me more annoyed.

I'm down for fun questions/ discussions when I have the time, like if someone wants to talk about our lord and savior, Fujin. But I repeat one last time, I'm not making fics for anyone. You have better authors that will be happy to write for you.

#mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk imagine #mortal kombat imagines #mk headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons #shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung x you #goddesswritings

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coffeecat1983 · 3 days

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Mario Bros Then and Now (feat Tony and Arthur): Home Sweet Home

Time: Early June 2023. Luigi pushed open the front door with his shoulder, turning once he was inside. He had a medium sized box in his hands labelled 'books'. It had taken a lot of work but the Bros were finally moved in to their own home in the Mushroom Kingdom. Over the course of a few weeks Peach had snuck a small army of toads in to Brooklyn at night to gather the packed items and take them back through the warp.

The last thing to go was the furniture with Giovanni and the twins helping out. Even the beds had been dismantled and transported down to the smallest bolt. Once the Bros broke the news that the house was built, Marianna had gotten into the hall closet and pulling something out, handed it to them at the dining table. "I've been saving this for when you two move. A little piece of home." Luigi teared up and Mario was speechless. It was more of the wallpaper from their bedroom. It had gone up in their new room. The toads worked with love and care to put it in place, and once it was done Giovanni and Arthur got to work putting the beds together. Meanwhile Marianna and Tony helped with kitchen items and the living room. Now the Bros were alone in their new home, and Luigi had just brought in the last box that had been left outside. Setting it down, he heaved a sigh. "Phew, I think this is the last one." he grunted as he stretched and popped his back. "Moving through a warp made moving cross-country look easy, huh big bro?" His brother didn't reply. Leaving the small entryway, Luigi found his older brother standing in the living room, surrounded by boxes. His cap was off and his arms were folded. He looked, Luigi thought, lost. "Mario?" he was gentle as he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "You okay?"

Mario didn't look at him, instead his gaze remained on all the boxes. "I didn't think it would feel this weird." he finally said. "Bein' in our own place." "You having second thoughts?" Luigi silently admitted to himself that he had been worried about the move. Out of Brooklyn was one thing, but to a new world altogether, well that was terrifying. Mario let out a soft laugh. "Nah, no second thoughts. Just we've always been in that apartment. Now it's a whole house for us. Uncle Art and Tony aren't across the hall, Ma, Dad, Papa Sal, they won't be here when we get up…" "Heh, I see what you mean. It is kinda weird." Clearing his throat, he went over to a box and opening it, took out a video game and held it up. "But h-hey, we can stay up late now playin' games!" he set the game aside and pulled out a movie. "Or watch movies as loud as we want, there's no other houses close by." His attempt to cheer him up worked, he made Mario laugh. "Yeah, you're right, Lu. How about we get your music player set up and start unpackin'? Oh, and Ma wants us back tonight for dinner." Luigi's eyes lit up and digging in his pocket, he pulled out his little music player and turning it on, cranked up the volume.

That evening in Brooklyn, the Bros were surprised to find the whole family gathered for dinner like it was Sunday evening. "What's all this?" Mario asked as they entered to cheers from their relatives. "Hey kid! Gotta celebrate you two gettin' your own place." Arthur said, holding up a wineglass. Marianna slipped behind the Bros as they were taking their seats and leaning in, kissed them both on the cheek. "My boys, so proud of you two!" she beamed. "How's it feel havin' your own place?" Marie spoke next. Mario let out a soft laugh, glancing at Luigi. "It, ah, it feels, well…" he hesitated. "Weird?" Tony volunteered. Mario's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Y-Yeah, that. Just, not being so close to you all is really different." Tony sat back, arms folded. "Sound familiar, Art?" Arthur groaned past his sip of wine. Setting the glass down he shook his head. "God, that first day in the basement felt like the Twilight Zone…"

August 1999.

Tony stepped back, taking in the sight of the freshly made bed. He swallowed hard. Seeing the powder blue of his bedspread all alone without Arthur's yellow and white stripped spread nearby was jarring. "Beds are made." he called as he went to the kitchen. Not getting a reply, he popped his head around the doorway. His twin was in the living room, rubbing his arm as he stood surrounded by boxes. His hair was ruffled, the loose strands hanging down nearly to his eyes. "Hey, lil bro, you in there?" Tony teasingly waved a hand in front of his face and Arthur jerked, coming out of his thoughts. He sputtered and waved his hands, playfully pushing Tony back. "What're you doin', ya idiot?" he said with a laugh. "There you are. You okay? Looked like you were lost." Shuffling past the boxes of movies and comic books, Arthur plopped down on the secondhand couch they had gotten. "I feel lost." he softly admitted. "New place, not having the family with us," he looked at Tony, "seperate rooms." Tony sat beside him, sighing. "Yeah, definitely weird. We've always had people around, and shared a room." Arthur quietly agreed. They couldn't afford one of the upper apartments that would give them a room big enough to share, and with Marianna expecting her babies, they had to take what they could get to give their old room to their nephews. Something that neither resented, but it meant a big change and it was hitting them hard. Tony sat back, looking at the blank walls. "I mean, yeah we got separate rooms but we got the whole place to ourselves." He nudged Arthur and jerked a thumb towards a long, thin box. "And Gio never liked posters on the living room walls…" Arthur broke into a grin as he caught on. When Marianna came down in the elevator to see how the twins were doing, she found them both singing as Arthur hung up movie posters and Tony filled the bookcases with their movies and music. "Hi Ma!" Tony waved before turning down the stereo and going to give her a hug. Her eyes sparkled brightly as she entered and looked around. "Well look at you two! You're gonna turn it into your own place in no time." "You like it?" Tony asked nervously. "I know Gio never liked posters in the living room." Marianna laughed. "Oh he's stubborn! I think you boys are doing a wonderful job. But how about a break and some dinner? Can't have a good sleep in a new place without a full stomach."

"We had a good sleep all right," Arthur finished the story. "Passed out on the couch together watching movies!"

Giovanni shook his head as he folded his arms. "Thankfully you two moved on a weekend and didn't have work the next day." "Gettin' to the point," Tony said, "I know it feels weird but give it time. It'll feel like home pretty quick." After dinner and a movie with the twins, the Bros made the trip back, both stopping outside the house. The little porch light by the door cast a warm and welcoming glow. "You know somethin', Lu?" "Hmm?" Mario smiled at his little brother. "Feels good to be home."

END By "CC"

#fanfic #luigi #mario #mario movie #super mario bros #uncle tony #uncle arthur #mario fanfic #mario bros #one shot #oneshot

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babacontainsmultitudes · 3 months

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80 or so years of life really ain't enough can I have an elf lifespan instead please? Or at least a dwarf's... I need at least a couple hundred years... Oh and a new spine every 5 or so years, if that's not too much to ask. 3. 3 years actually. Yeah, a new spine every 2 years, and a lifespan of 350-750 years, that's all I want really.

#SORRY this is such a random thing to be posting about and I guess it's a vent post haha #I suppose I've just been feeling a lot of... dread and fear lately... especially in the late hours...#''Lately'' as in on and off for most of my life but *a lot* as of the past few months #Like #Oh it's weirdly embarrassing to talk about this here it's a tad personal uh **tw (discussions of) death #But do you ever just feel paralyzed by the knowledge that one day you'll be 40? Or 60? Or 80? If you're lucky!#I worry a lot about wasting my life #I worry a lot about dying an unpleasant death #Or a painful one #I suppose I've always been gerascophobic...#But finishing school and turning 23 and not having a job and having just a hard time with my physical health lately...#I haven't been great I guess #I just feel like time has been moving so quickly lately!!!#And I've been going nowhere.#:0 not to be too much of a bummer y'all I'm not like feeling horrible rn or anything but I do need to vent I think #Cause if not it just stays coiled up inside of me.#*gah* I should channel all of this energy into Glenn in my pirate fic lol #😌 he's insecure (in part) cause he feels old #🥲 ough and I don't feel amazing about that most recent chapter but I guess that's a whole new vent #working on some different stuff for a bit.#ANYWAYS #I hope whoever happens to be reading this is having a good night ✨️#oh or day if it's day for you lol

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suddencolds · 16 days

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#not snz #more musings 📝 / mini vent:#not sure why my social battery is so limited 😭 and also so inconsistent #i feel like i can't sustain the amount of... like continued/consistent enthusiasm i see others giving esp in group settings #i just don't know how to engage in that way without burning out #over the past few weeks i've been stuck in like #a strange state where i can't muster the energy to properly respond to even the people i'm most excited to reply to #which is strange??#(and if that is you i am sorry 😭 i love you and i will get back to you)#i think i can't even like manage to get myself into the mindset of enjoying something for myself (eg. a conversation with a friend)#i think a part of it is the stress from work leeching into my personal life #i feel like i've been working so hard and for such long hours but its the kind of work where the progress i've made is very hard to track??#:( i just want to be off of ******* work so i can work on ******* work again #i also want to get ahead enough on everything in my life so that i write y+v D:#i feel like i haven't had a properly restful day in weeks... even over the weekend i was busy attending to others' needs #i just want a break from it all... but i dont have enough time to take off... but i dont know how much more of this i can take #i remember also feeling during uni like i was drowning #like there were simply not enough hours in a day to deliver everything i promised. it's such an awful feeling #i just feel defeated. like i've felt exhausted for weeks and weeks on end and like i spend every waking hour working on something or other #but ofc there is nothing to do but to keep at it 😭 other people can handle all of this and more #there are so many people i refuse to let down

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jungwookjins · 5 months

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in perhaps the biggest twist at jessie ennuijpg dot tumblr dot gov,,,i think im getting into f1

#completely out of left field #it's bc my parents were in vegas a couple weeks ago when the city was preparing for the grand prix there #so when they got back they were like we should watch the grand prix live just to see what this is all abt #and u know what i had fun #perfect time to catch up on stuff and be on top of it for the 2024 season tbh #anyways i feel like ive kinda been offline the past week #i've been busy spending a lot of time w family and also studying since ive had quite a few days off for work #miss u guys i hope ur all well <33 #('offline' but when it comes to me it just means on here like =<1hr a day as opposed to like 3+ or some other insane amt)#ennuitxt

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abhainnwhump · 6 months

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IMYM Chapter 5: Last Minute Preparations: Nightmare

<- Previous Chapter || Masterlist || Next Chapter ->

Nightmare adjusted his shirt collar in the master bathroom's mirror. He wore a gray dress shirt with bishop sleeves, a black suit jacket on his shoulders, and a black cravat. He usually only dressed up this much for business meetings or the few times he’s been to masquerade balls. A date couldn’t have been that different.

Yes, he was five hundred and seven years old and had never been on a date. He’s never had a reason to. Romance was never a focus in his life, not now and likely not ever. He was more focused on taking over the multiverse and spreading negativity. Killer was relentless with the jokes when he found out. Nightmare was inches away from wrapping him in his tendrils and throwing him out the window.

As he was about to grab his pocket watch, he touched a woven bookmark. It was made of dark black fabric with a white X near the top. The string’s knot and two beads kept it from falling, one teal and one purple. A birthday gift from Cross. Along with his childhood crown, Nightmare didn’t know why he kept the damn thing. Nostagila most likely, even if he didn't want to admit it.

If there was one person he hated worse than Dream, it was Cross. He betrayed him not once, but twice. The first was treason, and the second was falling for the enemy. In a way, he did them both on the same day, three years ago.

================================================

Nightmare took the guard in after he murdered his entire AU. He only found out due to Cross venting to him about it. It was an accident, he didn't mean to kill everyone he loved, people betrayed him over and over. He became stuck in the Anti-void, helpless and afraid of losing himself further. He was a fascinating soul, filled with regret and hatred. Cross needed to find a new purpose and Nightmare fancied a new team member. So he offered him a deal. If Cross joined his team, Nightmare would allow him meaning and help with his trauma.

And he was a good member. Resourceful, charismatic, a hard worker, and close friends with the rest of the team. Nightmare enjoyed having him as a subordinate.

But one day, without clear reason, he couldn’t take the killing anymore. He told Nightmare he wanted to quit. He told him he was sorry and grateful for everything he’s done, but he wanted to leave. Nightmare said no. A deal was a deal. They argued for an hour before Cross backed down. He didn’t say anything for a while after that. Less shine in his eye lights, but otherwise he worked as usual. He did become concerned for his mental health though. Was he too harsh? Cross had a habit of hiding both his physical and mental injuries. Especially if someone asked him if he was okay.

The next time they went on a mission, Cross ran away with nothing but an apology note—a weak one at that.

Nightmare canceled the mission and sent the entire team to find the traitor. He couldn't have gone far. They were reluctant but did as their boss asked. As he searched through the minor AU. He caught a strange conversation in the wind.

“Please, I want to help you! I know you’re not evil, and I’m not leaving you to die with a broken leg!”

“Stay away from me! And whatever you’re doing to make me happy, stop it! Happiness is the last thing I want to feel right now.”

“I can’t! It’s my aura! I can’t control it! You feel happy because you’re close to me! I'll leave you alone, but please let me heal your leg.”

The dark king followed the sound until he reached a clearing. Dream kneeled in front of a scuffling Cross, hand hovering with gold magic over his wound. Dream appeared to glow in the dark forest. It was back when he wore teal instead of yellow and a full cape instead of ripped shreds. Cross wore his over-complicated outfit too. A white jacket over a turtleneck and an X-sash. Cross’s right leg was a disaster of chipped bone, purple blood, and torn fabric.

Cross waited until Dream finished to adjust his leg. He seemed shocked over how well it worked. "Thanks, now leave me alone."

Dream’s sighed. “I- okay. Even if you don’t trust me, I want you to have this.”

The guardian reached to his belt and pulled out a gray orb, no larger than a golf ball. It had a small gold star in the center.

Cross scoffed and took the ball. “What is this? Some kind of miniature bomb? Nice try, but it won’t work on me.” He threw it into the forest. Dream gasped and reached out for it, but it was too late.

The orb broke into pieces and blasted a wave of wind and positivity. Nightmare cringed in pain and stifled a scream. It felt like he was burning inside out. The two other skeletons shielded their eye lights from the bright light.

When Nightmare lowered his hand, his eye socket widened. From the orb spouted beams of gold light and a hundred stars. Each star held a positive memory of Cross’s. Nightmare had never seen nor met any of them, but he could tell they were the other monsters from his world. Xtale Papyrus, Undyne, Mettaton, Muffet, he had a sickly sweet love and care for his friends and brother. Yet despite the happiness, sorrow and guilt tainted the memories.

Dream took one of the stars and held it in his hands. He waved his hand over it and smiled, his eye lights turning into stars. “I knew it! You have so many hopes and dreams and happy memories. You loved your friends. You used to be so positive, what ha- Cross?”

Cross failed to hold back his tears. His smile shook as much as his breathing; he struggled to keep quiet to stay strong. He wiped his tears away with one of his dirty sleeves. One of the stars floated by his face and he swatted it away. Then a second, and then a third. He crossed his arms and scowled. His aura was consumed in the guilt and sorrow he repressed for years. "Get rid of them."

“I can't, they will only leave on their own. It takes time. All healing and good things take time.” Dream moved closer, now curious. “Is that the problem? You're scared of what they'll think of you, so you're running away from your past?"

"I'm not running away from it. I tried to save them. I . . . forget it." He closed himself off. "It was a stupid idea in the first place. I should've known I couldn't rip apart other worlds and still expect everything to be normal."

Cross didn’t elaborate and continued to retreat into himself. Dream rubbed the back of his head, opening his mouth and closing it again. He did the one thing he knew to do best. He held him in a protective hug, rubbing his skull and letting him cry on his shoulder. “Shh, it’s okay. You deserve to be happy. If you want . . . I could help you to be happy again. But only if you want me to!"

Nightmare couldn’t hear his response as Cross muttered it, but his aura gained a twinge of comfort. And that’s when the Lord of Negativity decided to make his presence known.

“Well, well, well, I hate to ruin your little bonding moment, but your positivity is sickening.” Nightmare shot a tendril at Dream and tied him up. His brother gasped and struggled. The negativity was too much for him. He lay limp in his tendrils, breathing ragged.

Nightmare turned to Cross, smiling like a proud father. “Cross, you realize that by distracting my brother, you have earned yourself back in my favor. And because of that, I will let you do the honor of killing him.” He lowered Dream and held him spread-eagle style. “Go on, cut into his chest, and take out his soul.”

Cross looked hesitant. Nightmare decided he had to sweeten the deal. He raised his brother in the air behind him. Dream was running out of air. “You will become my first lieutenant and leader of the new army. You will have power you could only dream of.” He laughed at his unintentional pun. “I also won’t punish you for treason as I planned. Do you know how many monsters would take that deal? Many. You’re lucky you-”

A knife blade came down on the base of Dream’s tendril. Nightmare howled in agony. Losing a tendril was worse than a little positivity. He could regrow it within time, but his tendrils contained most of his magic. It would stay weakened until it regrows. But he still had three others.

Dream screamed as he fell. Cross teleported and caught him in midair. He shielded the smaller one with his body as they rolled on the ground. Purple covered his brother's face as he couldn't breathe. His skull lolled back on Cross's shoulder, blinking to refocus.

Nightmare’s eye twitched. “Are you betraying me for him?”

Cross didn’t answer.

Nightmare scowled. “Idiot, don't you see? Dream is messing with your head. He’s making you weak by tricking you into a false sense of empathy. And that’s why I must annihilate him, so no one can feel these emotions again. You still need me. I’m giving you a purpose. Would you rather be alone? Suffering in the guilt you caused yourself?"

Cross stood back up with a firm grip on his magic, claymore-sized knife. “You misunderstand me. I was created to protect people. And Dream . . . people like him are worth protecting. I made a mistake by working for you. I won’t make it again-”

Nightmare stabbed Cross through the chest and arms, yawning.

His tendrils splattered with purple blood as he slow-clapped. “That was beautifully . . . stupid, you should’ve considered being a poet. But I am very disappointed. You had so much potential, only to throw it away for the ‘greater good’. Oh well.” Nightmare thickened his tendrils to snap Cross’s bones. His clothing strained and began to tear. Cross screamed in pain. Snaps broke out. It would’ve gone faster if he had the fourth tendril, but this would do.

“Brother, stop!” Dream stood back up, bow in hand. “L-leave him alone! It’s me you want!”

Nightmare cackled. This was almost too perfect. “Let’s see, should I kill a traitor? Or kill my brother? Oh, decisions, decisions . . .”

He didn’t hear the Gaster Blaster behind him. Cross summoned it with the last of his magic strength. Nightmare barely had time to turn into a puddle, having to drop him in the process. Cross fell with a groan.

He turned to Dream and wiped some of the blood off his face. “Look, sunshine, just get out of here. Leave me, I’ll be fine. I can fight-”

“NO! You have a chance for a happy life! I’m giving you a second chance and there is nothing you can say or do about it!” Dream fixed his sun cape and steadied his breathing. He held up his bow.

Nightmare’s body distorted. He thinned his tendrils out into whips and fired them at Dream and Cross. Dream threw up a shield and defended them. The tendrils stabbed and bounced off the barrier, clanking like hail on a window.

Cross eyed the cracking and breakage. “I got a plan. We need to take cover behind that boulder and then-”

“Oh, Crossy!”

Killer shot a knife from the woods. Cross used his weak state and weight to tackle Dream to the ground. The knife tore off Cross’s already-ruined jacket sleeve.

Cross scowled and grumbled, “Oh, fuck me.”

“If you insist,” Killer taunted. He charged at the two. Dream summoned a wave of positivity and fired it at him. Nightmare’s right hand dashed and teleported, reappearing beside Dream. He slashed a long line down his skull. Dream winced, but focused on keeping Cross out of danger, even with his blood dripping into his eye socket.

“Come on, we need to get out of here,” Cross commanded. “I’ll lend you some happiness for your powers or whatever, but we can’t stay here!”

Dream gave a curt nod before twirling his staff into a portal. “Let’s heal you- um, do you prefer to go by Cross or San-”

“Cross. Never call me Sans.”

Dream tucked his staff into his belt holster. He struggled to carry Cross’s weight. Nightmare’s tendrils flew on their own and tore up Dream’s cape—his most treasured possession. The scraps of fabric fell at his feet.

Dream slowed down looked down, holding the ruined ends. “No! My-my cape!”

“Leave it! We don’t have time!” Cross grabbed the guardian’s arm, wincing at his own injuries. Dream snapped back to his senses. Still crying like a baby, he supported Cross and helped him through the portal. They both fell on the other side and sealed it.

Killer teleported to Nightmare’s side as he reformed properly. “Boss, should I go after them? Give me three hours and I will bring back their skulls.”

Nightmare watched the portal close. “A tempting offer, but no. We’re returning to the castle and reporting the news to the others. From there, I will decide what to do next. Cross is no longer a member of the VSS and that should be clear. He is a target that should suffer as much as the Star Sanses if not more."

“Gotcha.”

================================================

Nightmare banished Cross but didn’t send an immediate search mission. He expected the Star Sanses to take him as a new member. To his shock, Cross stayed neutral. But there was something else, something far worse than that. Error was the one who broke the news to him.

Cross and Dream fell in love.

Love, what a worthless feeling. Well, perhaps worthless wasn’t the right word. It could be exploited, used, and taken advantage of. Pathetic was better. Isn’t that where this idea came from? To make Ink fall in love with him so he could turn him into a living weapon?

These days, Nightmare took the sympathy he had for Cross and burned them until all there was only hate. If he surrendered there and then, Nightmare would have made his death painless. Now, he didn’t care. He wanted to see him severed and hanging.

Nightmare slammed his hands on the marble sink. His fingers clenched, but he managed to take a deep breath. As long as he didn’t think about Cross and/or Dream, he could keep his temper managed. Besides, he couldn’t intimidate Ink on the first date. What was the adage about a frog? If you drop a frog into a pot of boiling water, it will immediately jump out. Drop a frog into a pot of lukewarm water and raise the heat, it will stay until it dies.

It’s a failing metaphor because the frog jumps out no matter how hot the pot is. You would need to lobotomize it first. He snapped a pair of black silk gloves on.

Nightmare finished readying himself and left the bathroom. He had one more stop to make before he could go to the date.

He walked down his finely decorated hallways. Long purple rugs lined the stone floor. Every decoration had a place in his gothic black and purple theme. The left wall held tall windows with moon designs, shining the sunset through them. The right were old oil paintings. Nightmare had an appreciation for old art, especially those depicting misery and pain. The more suffering the better.

One might ask how he landed such exquisite decor. The answer was centuries worth of exchange and thievery. Nightmare never had a problem with stealing. His moral compass was as nonexistent as his skin.

Nightmare walked inside his office and pushed a stack of papers aside with a tendril. He lay Ink’s sash flat, removing each vial and laying them in a straight line. He touched each of the vials’ rainbow, heart-shaped tops. He could sense the emotions radiating from each color. Not as powerful as natural feelings, not even close. It was like holding artificial flavoring. It does the job, but it’s farce compared to the real thing.

Once he removed the yellow one, his smile distorted so it pointed by his eye sockets. The sturdy glass kept it from burning him, but he still felt happiness and positivity inside. Nightmare opened one of his windows and breathed in the cool night air. He looked down into the blue lake and smiled.

He threw the vial into the water below.

The vial flew, yellow against black until it crashed and sunk into the lake below. The darkness sucked it down. Ink wouldn’t be able to weaken him with happiness now. As long as he stayed here, he would be miserable. The pink paint's love would trick him into thinking he feels positive. Love wasn’t a positive or negative emotion, it was neutral as it could work both ways. Love could be selfless or selfish depending on the person. Most of the time, it was the latter.

He touched the breast pocket of his suit. He nestled the bottle of pink and red paint inside. It glowed softly. You couldn’t notice the light unless you were searching for it.

Nightmare ceased touching the vials when a lumbering sound outside caught his attention. He learned how to tell which member of the trio was who based on the sound of their footsteps. "Come in, Horror."

Horror opened the door and peered inside. His red eye was the only thing lighting up his face. Otherwise, he was backlit by the dark gold light of the hall.

Nightmare turned toward the oldest member of the Murder Time Trio. Horror was a few inches taller than he was and more muscular, but Nightmare didn’t mind.

“When Ink gets ’ere . . . can we torture him?”

Nightmare thought about it. “In time. I need to break him in first. Then you, Killer, and Dust can have a field day. I don’t care what you do to him, just keep him functional. Break a few fingers or use him as a test dummy for all I care,” he said. “Remember, he won’t be an equal to us. He’s far less, so don’t feel bad about making him hurt.”

Horror nodded. “So he’s . . . a torture toy with . . . a special excuse?”

“Mm, close enough. You’re in charge while I’m gone; I trust you the most. But if I come back to any pranks, destruction, or Ouija board incidents, you are all cleaning the dungeon. Including the blades and chains. We need to make a good impression on our new member, don't we?”

“Yes, boss.”

With a final nod, Nightmare stepped through the portal to Outertale. It was one of the AUs he was fond of, and the only one he liked that wasn’t negative-centric. The sky was forever dark and covered with stars. The residents were low energy and had little animosity towards anyone. Nightmare stayed in the shadows and out of sight as much as possible. As kind as Outertale was, he still had a reputation and a price on his head. Thank you, Dream.

Nightmare followed the roads until he made it to the restaurant. Tucked between two shops, it was fancier than either of them, looking like it belonged to a different AU. It was made with white pillars and had an old style, like the buildings in ancient mythology books he read as a child.

Nightmare pushed the doors open. The lively atmosphere almost immediately quieted down. It was like a blanket of uncertainty and fear. He couldn’t sense Ink’s artificial aura so that guaranteed he was late.

“Reservations for Nightmare Joku.” He set his hands on the counter, holding a confident cool smile. The worker seemed unnerved, but they gave him a polite smile in return. It turned strained once they looked into his glowing eye light.

“Joku . . . give me one sec.” They flipped through the massive book and scanned through a page. “Ah, found you.”

They set the book down and mumbled to themself. “Mother of the stars, why can’t I ever get the normal customers . . .” They stood up and walked, gesturing for Nightmare to follow. He did. He looked straight ahead but noticed nervous looks and whispers from the other monsters.

The attendant lead him to a spare room saved for events. Nightmare needed the privacy, not just for the view, though that was a bonus. The window showed the white Milky Way against a deep purple sky. He wanted to keep the affair between him and Ink, and them alone.

The attendant looked nervous, messing with their clipboard. “Um . . . would you like any drinks to begin with?”

Nightmare nodded. “I’ll have a pinot noir and my date will have a rosé champagne. He should be here within the next . . . five to ten minutes, roughly. If you see him, please tell him I’m waiting. Oh, and one last request, please. Could you leave me and him alone for, let’s say, twenty minutes? No, make it fifteen. That should be enough time.”

They rubbed their clipboard more, tapping the chained pen against it. The outside suddenly looked very interesting to them. “Apologies, sir. It’s policy to not leave customers alone for too long. It's considered rude.".

Nightmare nonchalantly passed the waiter one hundred gold pieces from his pocket. The waiter stared with eyes as wide as saucers. They also seemed desperate to get out of there. “Well . . . I suppose an exception can be made.”

As soon as he slipped out, Nightmare shook his head. Mortals could be convinced with the simplest bribe. They came back with the glasses of wine and water not long after. Once he left, he activated his plan.

The dark king removed the bottle of love potion from his pocket and poured half of the pink liquid into the wine. He decided it would be safe if he saved some in case the effects failed to work. He wasn’t too concerned though. The main reason he chose Ink as his target was how easily he could be manipulated. Physically, Ink was the strongest member of the Star Sanses. Mentally, he’s the weakest. If only he was as intelligent as he was arrogant.

Nightmare drank his red wine. He was incapable of getting drunk, likely due to his body lacking a solid form. The power from his black apple soul was the only thing keeping it together. Along with the fact he was using a six-year-old skeleton as a, well, skeleton.

The stars entranced and distracted him. He focused his attention on what appeared to be a flaming asteroid. Then he caught a bitter aura. Nightmare couldn’t read minds, but if he could, he could imagine the host thinking vulgar language.

The fire monster at the reception desk peeked in through the curtains. “Your Highness? Your date is here.”

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