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mysticalrambling · 3 years

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Ending It All Part 2 (C.E)

A/N: Here you go guys. Much awaited part 2 is here. I am so in love with this particular fan fiction and hope you guys like it. If you want me to write any blurbs related to this series, do let me know.I am open to requests.

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Part 1

Chris Evans Fan fiction (Fan fiction Masterlist)

Summary: Chris regrets divorcing you and he tries to mend the relationship. However, you have already moved on with Tom Hiddleston and are quite happy. He has to just stand back while you and your children become closer to Tom and it is all his fault.

Warnings: Angst all the way.

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“Coming in?” Chris turned his face towards you with a questioning look in his eyes.

“No, I have some work. Just wanted to drop the kids off myself.” Your ex husband’s house was on your way so you just saved him a trip.

“Not even for coffee, darling?”

“Sorry but I will have to say no.” You still got flustered when he called you with nicknames. You had once decided to tell him to stop calling you with all these terms of endearment but you couldn’t build up the courage to do it.

It has been over a year since your divorce and the moment you think you are over him, he is right there to bring those feelings back. You were a mess when he moved out and you had to see him on the weekends for the kids. It looked like you were drowning and you couldn’t come up for fresh air. It was exhausting but after several months, it didn’t hurt that much. It didn’t feel like your heart was tearing into shreds. You felt numb but that was better than feeling like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

“That’s fine. See you Sunday?”

These were the only few sentences that were spoken between the two of you since the divorce. This was your new normal and you were starting to adjust to it. “Yeah, bye.”

“Who wants pancakes?” Sighing, he turned around and asked in a fake, cheerful voice. He didn’t get to be disappointed. These were the the seeds that he sow and he had to reap the results.

“I do.” A collective chorus came from the living room as they had already started to play with Dodger. Dodger was adopted from a shelter home about two weeks into the divorce. Loneliness was a destructive force and Chris hadn’t come to that realization until he was sitting in his home at eight, all alone. No laughter, no mess, no companionship. He went out that day and got a new dog. The apartment was eating him alive because it was a reminder of his ‘new life’. More like his ruined life.

“Daddy, you goin’ to be there for my match?” Jace looked up at his father and hoped that he wasn’t going to say no. There have been too many occasions this past year where he was not there for his children like Easter or Mia’s first day of school. He was either too busy with his career or he couldn’t bear to be with his family knowing that he wouldn’t be going home with them. He wasn’t strong enough to handle that truth.

“I’ll be there but I have work afterwards so I can only be there for half time.” The apologetic tone was all too familiar to the kids now so they just stayed quiet.

Chris noticed their disappointed look and continued, “When I get back, we’ll go to Disneyland for the whole weekend.”

“Mommy and Tommy will be going as well?”

Stopping in between making the pancakes, he asked with a venom laced tone, “Tommy who, Jace?”

“Mommy’s new friend. We like him.” Your son continued petting the dog without realizing the damage he is doing to his father. “New friend” was always a code for boyfriend and Chris didn’t know what to do with that information.

He knew that you had gone on a few dates with Tom Hiddleston because of the paparazzi. But he didn’t know that you both were serious. Your kids knew about him so it was pretty damn serious.

“He won’t be going with us.” Speaking with finality, he resumed cooking. You were his and that was not going to change. He knew he was being unfair but when it came to you, he lost all rationality.

“But he is our new dad.” Mia whined from her place and Chris just looked at her with a wounded look. His babygirl was putting someone else in his place.

His voice boomed throughout the house and both the kids looked at him with tears in their widened eyes, “I’m your only dad. Don’t you ever say that.”

“‘m sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you mad.” Her chin wobbled and Chris was quick to realize his mistake. It was not your children’s fault. It was not your fault. It was his fault.

“Not your fault, baby. But you only have one daddy and that’s me.” Kissing her forehead, he wiped the single tear that managed to escape her blue eyes.

“’kay.” The kids got distracted again but Chris did not forget. He was still seething from the inside because Tom may have taken you away from him but he damn well couldn’t take his children.

They all get ice cream afterwards and the kids fall asleep in their rooms that Chris built from scratch. It was a lengthy process because he just kept remembering the times when he decorated their nursery with you. Such a beautiful memory and he was ruining it. The guilt ate him up inside when he realized that he may not get to ever decorate a nursery for your children again. He may not get to expand his family with you again. Again, it was his fault.

“Sorry, ‘m late. Work was hectic today.” Everything was so busy today because your boss signed up a new contract and he has been impossible to work with. You just wanted to go home and sleep for the whole week.

“It’s okay. They’re sleepin’ upstairs. Listen, we need to talk.” He was too consumed by anger and hurt to notice that you were too exhausted for everything.

“Go on.” You urged him, figuring that he might say that he won’t be able to make it to your son’s match. This was what most of your conversations were based on; him saying that he is too busy to be present at occasions related to your children.

“Why are my children referring to your boyfriend as dad?” He nothing but spat that sentence.

“I- I didn’t know about any of this. I’ll talk to them.” Stuttering, you tried to mediate the situation but nothing seemed to get through to him at the moment.

“No need. I already did that but for next time, keep your boyfriends away from my children.”

“Our children and I don’t let anyone near my children. We are serious.” You were offended by his crude tone and you weren’t just going to let him walk all over you.

“You can’t be serious with him. As a matter of fact, you can’t be serious with anyone.” Your ex husband declared it like it was a law. He didn’t know how to react to what you said. All the pain was converted into anger because that was his current form of expression.

“Are you serious?” This was all too much for you to handle. How could he say that?

“Yes. You only belong with me. I regret it so much (Y/N).” Chris’s expressions told you where he was going.

“Oh, stop. You can’t just do that. Can’t come bargin’ in my life and mess it all up again. I am happy.”

Chris reached out his hand but you took a step back. He was not allowed to touch you anymore. “I was mistaken. My career is not above you, darlin’. Never was.”

“You made me feel worthless. You made me feel as if I was the reason our marriage ended. Won’t allow myself to get sucked back into this relationship.”

“I know I broke our family. I tore us apart and didn’t even apologize for it properly. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” There was a stream of tears running down his face and you wanted to wipe them away but you resisted.

There were still times when you wished that you were still happily married to Chris. That you still had your perfect, little family. The divorce made you feel worthless and lonely. There were times when you couldn’t even look at your children because they were the exact replica of your ex husband. You once adored the fact that they were his carbon copy. However, now you couldn’t help but get angry. How could he leave little pieces of himself behind and think that you could move on with your life.

It was all because you were with another man. He never said all these things when you were alone and you suffered from depression. There were days when you couldn’t get out of bed to get your kids ready for school. You knew that Jace had informed him because he was really worried about you and he always shared his troubling thoughts with Chris. But he didn’t do anything about it. He stayed quiet and you had to pull all the pieces back together yourself. It was all tape and glue. Your ex husband didn’t get to come back and dismantle your progress. You wouldn’t let him.

“You can’t do this. Can’t come back. I am with Tom now so stop trying to fix things that you already broke.” Your face was red with anger and all the energy was drained out of your body.

“Please, just give me a chance.”

“No!” You couldn’t choose Chris again. You had to choose yourself. You chose to think about your needs and your feelings for the first time in seven years. That’s why you agreed to go on a date with Tom. He surpassed your expectations the first time and you knew that he could be your partner. No one could compare to Chris but Tom made his own place in your heart and you were glad about it. You continued on, “Tom is good for me so please don’t ruin my happiness again.”

Tom was great. He was good with the kids and he was slowly becoming an integral part of your life. You still missed Chris because that man was the love of your life for seven years and those feelings can’t just disappear with a single piece of paper. You were glad to have Tom in your life and you knew that as time would pass, you will love him with your whole heart. However, a small part of you would never forget Chris and would always wonder about the what ifs. What if you were still together? What if you had more children? What it you got to grow old together? Broken dreams are what hurts the most.

“I don’t want to be a cause of that. Not again. But I want to make things right.” He unintentionally came closer to you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Sorry I wasn’t there for our kids. Sorry that I broke you, baby.”

“A sorry doesn’t fix anything.” His chest was hallowing from inside out but he didn’t want to back down. Not now. Not ever.

“Just answer one question for me. Are you truly happy?” A tremble was prominent in his voice but you tried to ignore it.

“I-I am. For a long time, I wasn’t but I am now.” You spoke with such conviction that he knew you were over him.

You would always love Chris but now it was time for you to move on with your life. It was time to leave the past and delve into the future. Chris would always own a piece of your heart but you are going to allow Tom to have an opportunity as well. You will open your heart again to love. You were sure now.

“Okay. I will get the kids for you.” He backed off like he promised he would. You knew at that moment that it was all over.

Watching you drive away with his kids was heart breaking for him and he just watched helplessly. Chris still wanted to cry, beg and apologize. He wanted you to take him back but it was all his fault. He ruined you once, he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t interrupt your new life. It doesn’t all revolve around him but he was okay to remain on the sidelines while you enjoy your life. He will be there for you if you needed him.

You are happy and that should be enough for him but he wants to be selfish again. He wants to fight for you but it’s all too late. You were with someone else. He lost his chance.

Wednesday rolled in pretty quickly and Chris dreaded going to the match. You were going to be there with your new boyfriend but he didn’t want to miss his son’s game. He could only be there till half time already so it wouldn’t be that awkward.

“I just wanted to be here for Jace. Won’t cause any problems.” Chris took a seat beside Mia when he saw you shifting uncomfortably. The seat that should have belonged to him was currently being occupied by your boyfriend but Chris just bottled up all his feelings. It was not right to still think of you as his wife.

“It’s okay. Let’s just forget about everything.” You wanted to move on and did not want anything to hold you back.

“Okay. Mia, you want Kit Kat?” Offering her a large chocolate bar, he started talking with his daughter so that he could distract himself from you and Tom.

“What is happening, love?” Tom questioned when he saw that his former co-star did not even glance at him properly.

Chris and Tom were not the best of buds but they were still good acquaintances. He thought that dating you wouldn’t be a problem because Scarlett had informed him that Chris was the one who asked for divorce. However, this situation made him realize that Chris was jealous. He still had feelings for you and Tom didn’t know how to react to that.

“Nothing of importance. Let’s just focus on my baby boy.” Saying that, you cheered for Jace as he made his first goal. He was an exceptional player like his father and you knew that he would pursue football as his career. Jace was really passionate about football. If Chris didn’t become an actor then he would have definitely tried out for football.

There were times when he used to take you to the park so you would play with him. It was your thing. Maybe he had replaced you with someone by now as well but what you didn’t know was that Chris had stopped playing football altogether. Like many things in his life, it reminded him of you and it was just too much to bear.

“You are doing great, buddy.”Jace immediately asked Chris to pick him up as you gave him his Captain America water bottle. It was half time and Chris had to leave for shooting. He was getting late but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Thank you, mommy. Ollie doesn’t listen to me that much so coach is angry at him.” Babbling on, he rested his head on his father’s shoulder.

“Okay, buddy. I have to leave now but I will call you when your game is finished.”

“Won’t be going with us to Chick-fil-A?”

“Uhh-” He cluelessly glanced at you because he didn’t know what his son was talking about.

“I wanted to give him a treat after the match.” Tom butted into the conversation to prove that he was a part of the kid’s lives as well.

Chris could have actually made it to the restaurant because he would be free in an hour tops. However, he decided against it. He had to take a step back for you. Of course, he would be there for his children but Tom should be given a fair chance as well.

“I won’t be able to make it buddy. You enjoy with Mommy and Tom. I’ll take you and Mia to Disneyland this weekend as I promised.”

“Okay, daddy. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” Giving him to you, he turned to leave. It was hard for him to do this but it had to be done. Chris wiped his eyes discreetly as he saw you all laughing together. This was his fault and he would have to bear the consequences.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

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A/N: This story had me in tears from the very start. I cried when I was writing it. Again, I am open to blurbs for this series and other requests. Tell me if you want to be added to my tag list.

Tag list: @peculiarpenman, @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile, @iguessweallcrazyithinktho, @jessyballet, @caanyoonmoon, @coldmuffinpartycloud, @marvelfansworld, @agnesk, @lauracontisstuff, @deepintothenature, @xcaptain-winterx, @nostxlgia18, @sophiaedits , @luckyladycreator2, @mrspeacem1nusone

Like, comment and reblog.

P.S. If you want blurbs and epilogue related to this series, please send in requests. I will need some ideas.

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mustyrosewater · 3 years

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their responses to the words “make me.”

as i’m sure we all know, the two words “make me.” are some of the most used in a brat’s vocabulary. greatly inspired by my good friend @the-door-matt (who is a self proclaimed brat.) i have decided to write how pedro’s characters respond to said sentence. good luck, and god bless the brats.

NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

javier pena :

baby, are-

are you sure you don’t have a death wish? surely you do if you give a man like javier pena any from of attitude.

all day, you’d been trying to get under your co workers skin, simple things such as taking just a little bit of extra time getting your coffee, making you late. wearing those bell bottom jeans you know hugged your ass just the right way, anything you could do to get on javier pena’s nerves, you did.

you don’t even remember what he asked you for, maybe he’d asked you to hand him a pen, or even pass him a file that was sitting beside you; all that you remember, is leaning forward slightly from where you were sitting on the desk and tilting your head before saying those cursed to words.

“make me, pena.”

admittedly, you should have known better, but for some strange reason, you’d just felt the need to push one his buttons, at least you’d been wise enough to do this when it was after hours, only the two of you left in his office to sort through reports and such.

you should have known that from the way he turned deathly still and looked up at you slowly, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. if look’s could kill, you’d most definitely be dead. you could only watch as he slowly took the cigarette from his lips and squashed it in the ceramic ashtray on his desk.

next thing you know, javier has gotten up from his desk and is now standing in front of you, a hand now wrapped gingerly around your lower throat, not applying any pressure, simply sitting his hand there and keeping you still.

“is that how it’s going to be? you’ve been trying to get under my skin all day missy.”

as he speaks, his head lowers from around your throat to begin ghosting along your covered skin, barley applying enough pressure to feel his touch, just enough to know that its there.

“this is what you want? is that why you’ve been trying to push my buttons all day hm?”

legend has it you had trouble walking the next day, bruises on your hips and thighs certainly saw to that. needless to say, javi didn’t get attitude from you except on some very special occasions.

francisco “catfish” morales :

you took his hat, babe, why did you take his hat?!

he’d been searching for it since he woke up, after he’d had a shower, only to find that his hat wasn’t waiting for him on the bedside table as it always was. there was also the matter of the fact that you were nowhere to be found.

he came down the stairs slowly, only now hearing movement in the kitchen. when he finally poked his head around the corner only to find you in the kitchen, leaning on the counter and waiting for toast to pop did he spot his cap sat snugly on top of your head, turned backwards allowing him to see the logo of the oil company.

you must have heard him, because you turned and offered him a big smile, though he could read the mischief clear on your face.

“morning.” you practically sang as he approached, wrapping your arms around his waist and standing on your toes to kiss the end of his nose. his hands sat snugly on your hips as he stared down at you like you would stare at a puppy that had been caught chewing on its owners shoe.

before he could reach up to take his hat back, you broke away from his hold once you’d heard the toast pop.

wasting no time, frankie only shook his head. “give it back.” he knew you knew what he meant, but you only turned around, giving a mock clueless look.

“give what back, babe?”

“my hat, give it back.” he didn’t sound angry, not even annoyed; if anything, he sounded like he was enjoying this little game you’d started with him.

“make me, francisco.”

you quickly realized you’d fucked up when his eyes suddenly darkened, as he moved closer to you and had you pressed up against the counter in a manner of seconds. his breathing had suddenly grown heavy and he was practically grinding against you.

as you breathed out a few soft moans, shutting your eyes and wrapping your arms around his neck, you felt the cap being pulled off of your head, opening your eyes just in time to see him placing his cap back on his head.

your mouth hung open as he smiled down at you and turned around heading for the front door.

“don’t even think about it francisco.” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him back into the kitchen, hearing him laughing as he spun you around and pushed you back onto the counter, continuing his trail of kisses.

shane “dio” morissey :

oof, well, i can tell you that you fucked up.

dio is not somebody who likes to be given attitude in any shape or form, not getting his way, whether it be through manipulation or force, is an entirely foreign concept our resident goth boy.

literally, doesn’t even matter why you said it, or what it was about. all that matters is that the words “make me” are like flicking a switch in dio’s mind that suddenly has you pressed against the wall with his hands wrapped around your throat as well as dio practically seething the most pornographic sentences into your ear.

don’t expect to be experiencing any release though, dio is going to do whatever he wants, and that means that you won’t be cumming until you’re crying, not until you’ve learnt his lesson.

whether that means you spend hours with his head between your thighs or rather hours bent over the bed with him pounding into you relentlessly until you can’t take anymore, it’s all the same to dio.

he’s not going to let you cum until you are in tears baby cakes, not until you’re crying out that you can’t take any more and that you’re sorry, this is never going to happen again and that he needs to stop.

well, then he will, only long enough to gruffly let out “make me.” before resuming his torture on your body.

yeah, you won’t be walking straight for quite a few days after that, sorry not sorry.

oberyn martell :

it’s the giving an actual prince attitude for me-

no, for real, despite the fact that oberyn is a prince, we know that he doesn’t take it too close to heart when it comes to thinking he’s above certain things.

however, you? being a brat? haha yeah that shit’s not gonna fly. as soon as you say that sentence and give him that look, it’s over. oberyn doesn’t tolerate you being a brat unless he wants you to be a brat.

he will simply repeat his request, allowing you one more chance to be good for him, when you retaliate with another “make. me.” this time pausing between words, oberyn simply shrugs, he gave you a chance, can’t say he didn’t try.

he walks towards you and picks you up, dropping you down onto the bed, staring down at your as he unlaces the lather belt holding his tunic in place. he lets it fall off of his shoulders leaving him only in his loose orange pants as you stare up at him, narrowing your eyes and biting your lip.

he’s not stupid sis, he knows that this was what you wanted all along, seven god’s forbid he actually lets you get away with it though.

overstimulation and spanking is all that you’re going to get, all while he nonchalantly tells you “i gave you a chance to be good my little dove, if you want to be bad, see what you get.” before he lets another smack come down hard on your thigh.

much like our friend dio, oberyn isn’t going to stop until you’re on the brink of tears and apologizing profusely, just pleading, begging for him to let you come.

however, unlike dio, oberyn will cave in and let you because he’s lying if he says that look when your eyes roll back and your mouth hangs open turn him to putty in your hands.

din djarin :

ok look, he tried, he really did.

when you first replied to his request to pass him a tool with a mischevous “make me.” he only stopped for a second before resuming what he was working on.

“i’m serious.” he replied as nonchalantly as always, only causing a pout to form on your face.

“so am i.” you shrugged, moving the tool box out of his reach with your foot when he let out a sigh and reached for the tool himself.

“i’m not in the mood.” he grunted, standing up to tower over you, staring you down through the vizor of his helmet. you couldn’t even see his face, but knowing that under his helmet he must have been starting to get annoyed only brought a smirk onto your own.

the tool that was clasped tightly between your hands was the next object of his staring. he reached for it, only for you to place your hand behind your back, not once breaking eye contact with the bounty hunter.

though his helmet you could hear the pissed off huff he gave, right before he grabbed your other wrist and spun you around to push you down onto the crate you’d been previously sitting on. unable to move, you could only wait as he pried to tool out of your hand and suddenly let you go, only turning back to what he was working.

pouting, you turned around, expecting to see him continuing his work, instead, you watched him chuck the tool back into the tool box before he looked back at you, reaching forward to grip you by your shoulders and lead you into the room that two of you shared on the crest.

only checking once to make sure the kid was asleep, he shut the door behind him and shoved you down onto the bed, beginning to unbuckle his belt, only staring at you through his vizor.

he fucked you into the mattress that night, so hard that you had bruises on your hips when you woke up, walking out of the room only to find him working once again, missing the small chuckle that emitted from him as you limped past him.

maxwell lord :

sorry my love, maxwell lord IV doesn’t take orders from anybody, especially not you. the two of you had gotten into some petty argument, something about how you’d already responded to star labs saying he’d be attending their charity gala, and now here he was, claiming that he no longer wanted to attend purely based off of the fact that one of the sales rep’s had given him a dirty look as they were leaving.

you were stood in front of his desk, arms crossed and tapping your foot impatiently, staring at your boss as he propped up his feet and gave you that smirk that was all to familiar and all too infuriating.

without another word, you simply threw your hands up and grabbed your coat, turning around and walking towards the large mahogany doors you knew would take you out of his office.

“don’t walk away from me.” his voice rung out behind you, as well as the sound of him standing up from his chair.

you didn’t reply, only continued walking; just as your hand touched the door handle his voice rung out again, though much colder, much more harsh.

“don’t you take one more step out of this office.”

you whipped your head around to look at maxwell, your eyes suddenly wide with insult, who the hell was he to order you? well, technically he was your boss, but still.

you took a few steps towards him, your heel’s clicking on the marble floor before you stopped and stood in silence, letting your eyes linger on his face before finally speaking.

“make me.”

without even waiting for a reply you turned around and continued your retreat out of the office that you were sure cost more than your own house three times over.

but before you could leave, you felt hands on your shoulders as you were spun around harshly to meet the angry eyes of maxwell, his breathing was heavy and his perfectly gelled hair had moved slightly out of place, leaving a few strands sitting on his forehead.

“is that what i have to do to get you to fucking listen to me once in awhile hm?” as he spoke, he turned the two of you around and continued until you were pushes against his desk feeling the hard wooden table digging into the backs of your thighs.

all i’m gonna say is, expect to be bent over that desk and prepare to hide the bruises around your thighs from by the time our man is done with you.

you may have begun to order him around a lot more often after that occurence, who knows.

max phillips :

okay well, for one

why are you saying “make me” to your boss

especially when your boss is max phillips

it was, in all honestly, because you were having a bad day, technically your shift wasn’t starting for another ten minutes, you’d only just sat down at your desk and let out a sigh as you heard your boss’ office door opening as well as those infuriatingly well polished shoes appearing in your vision.

without even saying good morning or anything, max was already on your case about those reports that were meant to be on his desk by this afternoon.

not even waiting for a reply, he patted you on the shoulder and reminded you that you needed to start working.

without even thinking, as he was walking away, you blurted out a snide “make me.” it was meant to be quieter than it came out, a little snap only meant for your ears, and yet, somehow, he seemed to have heard it loud and clear.

the second, and i mean the second, those words leave your mouth, max’s head will have spun around to look at you in disbelief, sparing little to no time before he’s placing his hands flat on the desk of your cubicle and narrowing his eyes at you, only to growl:

“my office, right now.”

hope you’re ready bby, cause max certainly is.

all your coworkers have to pretend that they don’t know exactly whats going to happen when max asks you to close the door behind you.

max practically shuffles his desk into the wall while bending you over it and fucking you into tomorrow, in his mind, this was his way of showing you what an attitude like that would get you

they also pretend that they can’t hear the banging and muffled moans coming from his office, he’s their boss, they can’t say shit.

by the time your waddling out of his office, sheepishly adjusting your dress and collar, all while max leans in the door frame with a confident smirk plastered on his face.

this is then followed by him demanding that everybody stop staring and get back to work.

jack daniels a.k.a agent whiskey :

i love our yeehaw man, you love our yeehaw man, we love our yeehaw man.

so i can’t work out why you would want to get on this mans nerves.

it starts out small, little things that you know will push his buttons, stealing his hat off of his head once, then twice and then finally a third time.

you sat on his desk beside where he was working and grabbed the hat off of his head for the third time after he’d taken it back, placing it on top of your head and flicking the brim upwards playfully.

you knew he could stop you from taking it, but he was either enjoying this more than he was letting on, or didn’t have the heart to stop your fun, either way; what had started out as fun was very noticeably beginning to annoy him.

he sighed deeply when you grinned at him, swinging your legs back and fourth from where you were sitting.

“babygirl, light of my life, will you please stop taking my hat.”

his voice was audibly tired as he looked up at you, only to see you grinning.

“but i like it, it looks better on me.”

by the sound he made, you could tell you were right, or at the very least, he really enjoyed seeing you in his hat, but despite that, he still lifted a hand to reach for it only to have you lean away from his reach

“i’m gonna have to ask for that back sugar.”

“make me cowboy.”

as soon as you said that, his eyes noticeably darkened as soon as you said it, leading to him standing up and stepping in front of you, standing between your legs.

“i won’t ask again babycakes. give me the hat.”

your only response was to lean in and smile at him.

“make. me.”

that was the limit, within mere blinks of an eye you found yourself bent over whiskey’s knee as he sat down in his office chair, the hat still on your head.

“i gave you the chance babygirl, no arguing now.”

your ass is gonna be red by the time your out of that chair, and i can confirm you will indeed be walking weird tomorrow.

but hey, it was worth the hat, wasn’t it?

pero tovar :

baby i hope you know what you’re doing..

you stole his coin purse off of his belt while walking past him in the market, you’d stolen several coin purses today, this was just the first one that caught you.

you were only a few meters away when you’d heard him yell out from behind you, resulting in you breaking into a sprint through the crowd in order to get away from the mercenary now hunting you.

it took a few minutes of running before you were able to successfully escape, hiding behind a building and leaning against the wall huffing and puffing feeling like you were going to be sick.

finally calm enough to continue on, you turned the corner only to run bang smack into said mercenarys chest, the now very angry mercenary.

“you made me chase you through three streets senorita.”

despite attempting to turn and run once more, he caught you almost instantly and had you slammed against the wall.

“you’re one of the only people that have been able to outrun me, but despite this, you stole from me. give it back.”

maybe it was the high adrenaline, or the fact that the close proximity was allowing you to feel his breath on your cheek, but for some reason, you decided to dig your own grave even deeper.

“make me.”

the growl that left that man was nothing if not animalistic, the next thing you knew, you’d been swung around and having your chest pressed against the wall as he grinded against you, dipping face down to breathe in your scent.

“if we’re going to be like that senorita...”

yeah, needles to say you had a very fun time from then on out explaining to people how you met your latin lover.

dave york :

death. ELECTRIC CHAIR. did u really, reeeaallly decide to give a trained assassin attitude? ur funeral babes.

i don’t even want to know how it happened, but as soon as that man heard “make me.” leave your pretty little lips. oh mama.

you were bent over the kitchen counter, hand through your hair, pulling it back and other hand blissfully placed around your neck, gradually applying more pressure.

“oh, you thought that was fucking funny? you want me to make you? you little fucking whore, i’ll make you then.”

trust this man will be leaving several bruises all over your body, this is literal hate fucking at a certain point, there is no other way to describe the way this man reacts to attitude of any kind.

words cannot describe the state that you are left in, but as much as it hurt, the aftercare is worth it. waking up to him laying soft kisses along your shoulder, all the bruises and bitemarks.

bringing you coffee while running you a bath so that the two of you can relax and let your body recover from the absolute torture and pleasure it has been through

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alolowrites · 4 years

Text

Comforting Words

Summary: You return to the U.A. dorms following a disastrous date. Surprisingly Bakugou offers some “comforting words” to you.

Author’s note: As promised, here is the story to celebrate reaching 100 followers!!! Thank you all so much for this! Story is kinda a sequel to “Laundry Night” (idk) ??? Either way, it just seemed fitting to share another Bakugou story to mark such an occasion.

Enjoy!

~~~

I’m so stupid, stupid, stupid!

You figuratively and literally slapped yourself as you marched to your dorm building at like 10:35pm on a Saturday night. Marching to the shared kitchen, you carelessly threw your ice cream pint onto the counter. As you rummaged through the drawers, a growl escaped your mouth when you couldn’t find one spoon. Any other day you would see spoons left and right, yet they magically disappeared when you needed them the most.

Searching through the billions of utensils in the drawer, you finally found the main prize. Your attention went to the ice cream pint and your fingers furiously tugged on the lid to no avail. Now you were on the verge to punch someone. Why was the universe being so cruel? Did you accidentally piss them off? Are they having some mood swing, because honey this ain’t it.

Why won’t you open?!

“Are you really so pathetic that you can’t open the flimsy ice cream cover?”

You stopped struggling and slammed both your hands against the counter. Closing your eyes, you breathed through your nostrils to calm yourself. Bakugou saw your back and the harsh glare peering over it.

“I’m not in the mood, Bakugou,” you snarled at him. “If you want to insult me, give me two to three business days.”

“Should I send a Google calendar invite to remind you?” He mocked.

Of course he threw that at you.

A piece of hair fell over your eyes and you blew it away. Grabbing the cold pint, you spun around to face your tormentor. Bakugou leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and wore his favorite black shirt.

It was also your favorite shirt. The fabric shamelessly emphasized his Spartan-like muscles as a result of his vigorous training. Feeling your eyes rake at his tone arms, you mentally forced some self-control. You never wanted to give this buffoon the satisfaction that you admired his top-notch physique.

No…you would never hear the end of it from him. So to save face, you diverted your eyes back to the ice cream pint freezing your hand and frowned.

Stupid hormones.

Without looking up, you asked: “Why are you here?”

“You were being too loud,” Bakugou complained. You barked out a dry laugh while snapping your head up.

“I’m being to loud!?” You pointed to yourself with eyebrows raised. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. DIE-DIE-DIE! I’m surprised you’re not croaking like a dying frog.”

He ignored your comment. “You’re upset, what the hell happened?”

“Why do you care?” You shot back at him.

“Answer the fucking question, idiot, I’m not asking again.”

So now he wants to be a damn therapist?

“Hmph, fine.” You lifted the cover and reclined against the counter to make yourself comfortable. “My date was an asshole. Everything was fine at first, you know? He took me to this nice restaurant and we were hitting it off. Everything was perfect—the mood, the scenery, the food. Then one thing lead to another,” you lowered your chin, “and he kissed me…”

Distracted, you didn’t catch Bakugou’s fists clenching and his scowl growing deeper. “I didn’t ask for a recap of your crappy romantic date!”

“It’s important to the damn story!” You yelled at him, thrusting your spoon his way. “And you’re the one who asked! If I have to suffer through this date again, you’re suffering with me so buckle up, firecracker.”

Said firecracker seethed, but stayed quiet. You took it as sign to continue. “So anyway, he kissed me and next thing you know, some lady’s claws ripped me apart from him. They were actual claws by the way, like her nails were soooo long, I was surprised she didn’t scratch my face.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“Apparently the guy used me to get his ex-girlfriend jealous so they can get back together,” you venomously spat out. “I gave that guy a Texas-smash slap and threw cold water at him. With ice cubes, for good measure too.”

A second later, you angrily stabbed the ice cream which took Bakugou by surprised. However, he quickly recovered and watched as you blindly attacked the delicious delicacy that was a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream pint.

“I felt so humiliated—”

Stab.

“—and used—“

Stab, stab.

“—and ugh!”

The spoon dropped. It clanked against the floor and you didn’t move for a moment. With flushed cheeks, you discarded the ice cream that was now a swirling mess. Slumping backwards, your back hit the kitchen drawers while you pinched the bridge of your nose. Tears dangerously emerged in your eyes, but you forced them to stay put. There was no way you were going to cry in front of him.

One hand weakly gestured towards Bakugou. You felt like a deflated balloon. “Go ahead, tell me that I’m just a dumbass with peasant problems.”

“Well you are a dumbass,” he started and you figured much. “But you’re a dumbass for moping over some garbage idiot like him.”

…what?

You didn’t expect that kind of response. Scrunching your eyebrows together, you gave him a ridiculous stare. Bakugou sighed loudly and slid his hand over his face as if he needed to spell out something so obvious.

“Look, you’re sulking over an asshole who never respected you,” he explained. Your ears carefully listened to every word. “Even though you stood up for yourself, you’re still letting that bastard win by acting all sad and shit.”

You stupidly blinked.

“Quit whining and realize he was never in your league in the first place,” he grunted as his crimson irises narrowed at you. “He’s not worth shedding tears over for, so don’t you dare start fucking crying.”

He left you speechless and you gawked at him.

Never in your life did you expect Bakugou to comfort someone…well, comfort anyone in general really. Did he give you a soft cuddle, patting your head saying everything was going to be okay? Hell no. Instead you got the Bakugou-version of it where he slapped some sense into your sorry-ass for moaning after some douche.

“I hate how right you areee,” you groaned dramatically into the air. Bakugou snorted at your reaction, but didn’t say anything else. Bringing your head down, you let out a soft chuckle and grinned at him. “I shouldn’t let that bastard make me feel so shitty. How dare he make me almost act out a cliche movie scene where I cry myself into an ice cream pint. The nerve of him…”

“Damn right.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but—” you inhaled for the melodramatic effect “—thank you, Bakugou, for your comforting, albeit unconventional, words.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered while looking away, hoping you didn’t catch the blush flaring up his cheeks. “Just as long as you stop stomping in here like a damn rhino.”

Your face briefly fell. “Ok, rude.”

He shot you a tiny smirk and the butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

Suddenly the floor became more interested and you remembered the mess you made. A curse flew out of your mouth as you snatched a paper towel to clean up the spot. After finding another spoon, you looked at your ice cream on the counter. It was slightly melted, but there was no way you were going to throw it away. In front of you was a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and you spent good money on this baby.

“So,” you tapped your finger on the pint and took one bite of your dessert. “I guess we’re done here.”

“Guess so,” he nonchalantly shrugged.

Very well then, you thought as you slowly walked towards the doorframe where Bakugou stood and paused. It took all your willpower not to shrink away considering how close you two were. Your eyes boldly stared into his and neither of you said a word. The room was so silent you prayed Bakugou couldn’t hear your heart throbbing loudly against your chest.

No. Not yet.

“Well,” you broke the silence and flashed him a playful smile. “At least I now know there is a nice troll under the bridge.”

Not missing a beat, you rushed out of the kitchen with a hearty laugh before Bakugou had a chance to blast your annoying face out of existence.

~~~

Fun fact: originally this story was not going to be published. It was sitting in my “Unreleased Cuts” folder for some time because I wasn’t feeling the plot’s direction. Left it alone, came back to it and fixed it up.

And here we are!

Thank you again for reading :)

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momothegeckho · 4 years

Text

Quick Imagines~

My Unwanted Hero: The Hero you most certainly DIDN’T ask for!

One Punch Man! edition

Introduction: You are a normal person, well, almost normal. You had the ability to tame animals and Control plants. Basically, a nature hero. If you actually took the time to become a hero. Instead, you worked in a cozy little market, where on occasion, you would help people with plants and taming animals. Today in particular, you were training a nasty creature, and it was ready to lunge at you, but you had it under control. (At least, you thought so...) You were ready to peacefully stop the animal, when your hero decided to swoop in and make matters worse by attacking the beast. How stupid.

Saitama:

Being a new hero, he wanted to make sure he stayed relevant as to not get booted from the Hero’s Association. He was walking around town and found himself near a wooded area, where you happened to be taming a tiger that had escaped the zoo. This tiger, however, had mutated into a villain, but you could still help him. At first, everything was fine, but the tiger got set off by a nearby car horn and went ballistic, scratching everything, including your clothes and skin. You were on the ground after being sent into a tree by the tiger, when you saw it running at top speed at you. As soon as you stood and prepared to tame it again, There was a blur of yellow and white, then in front of you, a bald man had appeared. He punched the tiger so hard that it went flying into the air, roaring as he span away.

Saitama was pleased, but you were very unhappy.

“Hey! What did you do THAT for? Are you crazy?!”

Saitama was confused. Why were you yelling at him? Didn’t he just help you from getting mauled by a wild, ravenous tiger?

“Um... Excuse me? I was just helping. That tiger was about to kill you.”

“No! He wasn’t! I could have helped him, and now he’s gone! Why would you do that?”

Saitama narrowed his brow at you, confused at your actions and assuming you were just crazy.

“He was literally lunging at you full speed... he was going to kill you-”

“I could have handled it! Did you hear me calling for help?”

As he was about to answer, you cut him off.

“No! I didn’t! That tiger was from a zoo, you dumbass! And you went and killed it!

“Look, I didn’t kill him, see?”

The tiger came back down, and Saitama caught him, setting him on the ground before walking back over to you. You were relieved the tiger was okay, but nowhere near done with this bald psychopath.

“I still didn’t need your help. Thanks anyway, I guess, for not killing the tiger.”

You turned to the animal, who was shaking visibly, and looked happy to see you. It was awkward as you stood with the tiger, wondering how you would get him back to the zoo safely, when Saitama spoke up.

“... Do you need help getting him back?”

You were proud, but also very weak, so you turned to him and nodded.

“... I guess I could use your help now, baldie.”

“It’s Saitama, you crazy person!”

Garou:

A wild boar had started causing some serious problems near a children’s park. You happened to be walking back when you saw it rampaging, and kids were screaming. You had to do something.

“Hey! Come here, you big softie! Did you get lost? I’ll take you home.”

The boar was responding to you positively, and he was excited to have someone understand his problem, so the boar ran over to you. Anyone would have mistaken it for hostility, and this was also the same for Garou, who appeared, kicking the boar away from you.

“Hey! Are you dumb? When a giant hostile boar is after you, you run the other way!”

You gasped, concerned for the boar, before hitting Garou on his head. He didn’t flinch at all, however, and turned to you in surprise.

“What the hell was that for? I’m helping you, stupid!”

“I didn’t ask for your help! I was perfectly fine by myself! And don’t call me stupid, wolf-face!”

Wolf face? That was new. He turned to completely face you, a smirk on his lips as he closed the distance between you.

“Oh really? You had it under control? Why was he charging towards you then? You call sacrificing yourself control?”

You seethed at him and ran to the boar, who looked to be crying.

“You idiot! He was just excited I was helping him find his home! He was running to me for help! I have the ability to tame animals!”

“So... you’re a hero then?”

You have never met someone as stupid in your life. So because you were helping, you were automatically a hero? Does this guy not know human decency?

“No dumbass! I’m a person who just likes to help people! Why is that so hard to get through your skull??”

He was in deep thought as he began to realize the situation. Well, it was an honest mistake. People and monsters are allowed to make those once in a while.

“Well, I’m sorry, I guess.”

Garou turned to leave before you yelled at him again.

“Hey! You have to help me now! You incapacitated this poor boar, so he can’t walk. Help me carry him back home!”

Garou groaned as he trudged over to you like a child.

“First you don’t want help, then you need help. Make up your damn mind.”

“It would have been easier if your dumbass hadn’t attacked.”

“My name isn’t dumbass,” Garou started, lifting the boar over his head and making eye contact with you. You blushed at the brilliant yellow eyes he had, and looked away, embarrassed.

“My name is Garou.”

“Well then, let’s go Garou. You owe me this.”

He grumbled before following you to your destination.

“Also, if you don’t mind, do you want some food as well? We could get lunch afterwards.”

Garou brightened at your offer and chuckled.

“As long as you’re paying!”

Amai Mask: (This will be multiple animals, who are made evil by a villain in the area.)

It was a dragon level threat in the area, and this villain was able to corrupt animals and make them his minions. You were in the middle of taming some monkeys when they began to act strange and transformed into minions. You could still tame them, but your hold on them was weak. You also happened to be stuck in a cage with them all, and so there was no backing down.

“Please! Calm down! Don’t let him take over your minds!”

You tried pleading to them all, but the villain’s hold was too strong, and they began trying to attack. As they all lunged at you, you tried once more to tame them, and it was starting to work little by little, until you were swiftly picked up and carried away.

“Hey! Let me go I was close to getting them back to normal! Stop!”

You both stopped and you were able to look at your “savior” who was Amai Mask. You blushed a little, since you have been a bit of a fan of his music, but you snapped back when the monkeys screeched demonically at your disappearance. They began to run after you and Amai Mask, who readied to fight.

“Don’t hurt them please! I can tame them, just give me some time-”

Before you could plead with him to let you try, he dispatched all of them, green blood flying everywhere. You felt tears prick your eyes as you screamed. You had been working with these monkeys for years. Raising them from childhood, teaching them to be intelligent, just bonding with them. You cried as they screeched and suddenly exploded from Amai’s ability. He then turned to you, making sure you weren’t hurt. In all the chaos, your ankle had gotten broken, and as he prepared to take you to the hospital, you used a vine to wrap around his arm and keep him away.

“Why!? Why didn’t you listen? I could have helped them! They remembered me...”

Your sorrow grew deeper as Amai mask looked at you, very confused. Not only were those monkeys the enemy, you cared so much about them that you hated him for protecting you. More importantly, your ability to control plants also surprised him. A person with an ability? Why weren’t you a hero?

“Listen. Those monkeys were no longer your monkeys. They were turned into monsters. They even bleed green! I hope you didn’t think you could tame them like that.”

“I didn’t ask you to save me! I had it! They were listening to me! You didn’t let me help them...”

Amai mask was very confused. Did you really think he wouldn’t save you from that death trap? Since when did a person in trouble get to choose whether they died or not? The vines around his arms started to spread to his legs. You were really strong...

“How could you do this!? What gives you the right to choose what lives or dies without trying to help them first!? It’s unfair!”

He could sense just how distressed you were. He would allow you to yell at him later, but your ankle was starting to swell, and it wouldn’t be long before it clotted and killed you from internal bleeding. He began to tear at the vines. It made him guilty that you couldn’t have your way. You were beautiful, even though you were crying, mainly because of his decisions. He definitely needed to make it up to you, because as a hero, this is not what he wanted. It was his duty to keep civilians like you happy.

“I’m sorry. I know you felt something for those animals, but you must know in the deepest part of your heart that you and them would not have survived. Please think about it. They were under control from that villain. Even after I killed him, they were still rampaging. What if they hurt someone else?”

He felt relieved when you eased your tears. This also seemed to weaken the vines more, and so he broke out of them and carried you.

“I’m so sorry that I couldn’t help you as your hero.”

You stopped crying and looked at his face. He seemed sincere, and you had to admit he was right. You didn’t know if you were overstepping boundaries, but you hugged Amai close, wanting to feel comfort. He hugged back. Feeling a bit better that you were more calm.

“Now, we must discuss some other matters. Things like your ankle, and your addition to the Hero’s Association.”

You were caught off guard, and looked up at Amai with surprise. You? A hero? You would laugh if you weren’t crushed over your animal friends.

“Amai Mask, I can’t be a hero... I’m not trained! I am flattered but-”

Amai stopped you with a finger to your lips and smiled. He looked so sweet in that moment, and you weren’t going to fight it anymore.

“You have a gift, beautiful. One that we need at our Association. Maybe we can discuss it over dinner later?”

Was Amai mask asking you out? Holy SHi-

“Yes. I guess I would like that. Thank you.”

You both headed to the hospital, discussing trivial things, and anticipating your date later that night.

(That was a bit angsty oOf-)

Sonic:

Okay. That was a big ass snake. Like, inhumanly huge. Like, bigger than the tallest man alive, BIG.

You have never tamed a snake before, since you heard that it was virtually impossible to train reptiles without meat of any kind, yet, there was a giant snake, terrorizing some kids who probably started this by entering its territory. So here you were, trying to tame a gigantic snake. You were heavily sure that this wouldn’t work, but you had to try.

As you attempted to calm the beast, you became more confident as the snake began to lower itself to your eye level, and just when you believe that the snake is ready to go home, It senses something and becomes threatened enough to strike at you. You try to block, but instead, you feel yourself get lifted from the snake’s path. You open your eyes to see that you are on a tree branch with an arm around your waist, belonging to a cute man with really nice grey eyes. There’s a moment of silence as you two look at each other, but it is ended when the snake hisses and winds up to attack again. You notice the man unsheath a sword, and you know he is about to do something dumb.

“Wait! Don’t do th-”

Before you could stop him, he speeds down and confronts the snake, chopping it up into pieces in front of your very eyes.

“You dumbass! Why would you do that?”

You jump down from the tree, and the man looks at you very confused. Shouldn’t you be thanking him and bathing him in gratitude for saving your life? He didn’t get it.

“What do you mean? I just helped you dummy. So much for helping a civilian. How do heroes deal with that annoying selfish-”

Before he finished his sentence, you lifted him by the foot with a vine you called, and he looked at you surprised as you snatched his sword and emptied his pockets.

“Before you finish that sentence, check yourself. I didn’t even ask you for help! What the hell were you thinking!? I had him under control!”

“Wasn’t he about to bite you? I’m not blind, you know. I know what I saw.”

You couldn’t fight that argument, but you went on to explain your abilities. He was not impressed.

“So? You can tame animals. That snake wasn’t following it. I helped you, so be thankful, and let me down!”

“No! I didn’t even ask for help! How thick is your damn skull!? Because of you, the snake attacked because he felt threatened by you!”

He didn’t seem to care, and you felt like you were talking to a brick wall.

“Look-”

“Speed Of Sound Sonic.”

“... Sonic. I am trying to tell you, I didn’t need you help. Thank you, but really, no thank you. Now you’ve gone and killed an animal who could have been released...”

Sonic did feel a bit bad for interfering, but he was too proud to let you know this. So all he did was break the vine, take his items back, and leave.

You yelled for him to stop, but he was already gone.

“Damn Tasmanian Devil...”

It was a few hours later while you were at home that you got a knock at your door. When you opened it, you felt a quick breeze and then suddenly, a man, more specifically, Sonic, was in your house, looking around, examining every little thing, before turning to your confused form.

“Look. I know you didn’t ask for help, but it was an honest mistake. So sorry for rescuing you from death by snake. Here.”

He extended his hand out to you, presenting a gift bag with a small potted plant in it. He was looking away from you, but you accepted it and accepted his apology as well.

“Thank you, Sonic. This is very nice of you. I appreciate it!”

There was a slight blush on his face as he mumbled to himself. He went to the door to let himself out, when he stopped and turned towards you.

“Do you... want to go do something? As a sorry of course!”

You smiled and grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“I’d love to, Sonic the Hedgehog!”

“Who? Hey!”

You ran down the hall onto the street while Sonic chased you, and that was the very strange start of a beautiful relationship.

Genos:

“Ya damn robot!”

“Please, stop stepping on me.”

What was happening, you ask? Well, You were in the middle of taming a gorilla, and at one point, he picked you up and lifted you over his head, note: you and the gorilla were only PLAYING. You were lifted into the air, when a cyborg that you knew as the Demon Cyborg, came out of nowhere, and began to assault your gorilla friend, mistaking him for some villain or something.

So now, you were standing above the cyborg, that you had bound to the ground with tree roots, and stomping on his head.

“I will NOT stop stepping on you! You hurt that gorilla, you brute! Is there something wrong with your programming? Are you just CRAZY? What the hell, man!?”

Genos, in all truth, felt very offended. He had just helped you, and now you were stomping on him for no reason.

“Why are you stomping on my head? Did I do something wrong in rescuing you?”

“Yes! I didn’t need to be rescued, you dumb robot!”

Ouch. He was hurt now.

“But... the gorilla was about to throw you.”

“What? No! We were playing! That gorilla is an animal I’ve been working with for years! He would never hurt me!”

Welp, Genos felt dumb now. He had totally forgotten to ask if you actually needed help. All he heard was screaming and the gorilla, but he didn’t know you were screaming for joy. Wow. This was completely awkward.

“I apologize for misreading the situation... I will make it up to you both if need be, but please, stop stepping on me and let me up.”

You had gotten your fill of stepping on him, so you released him and crossed your arms, waiting for his next words.

“I deeply apologize. It’s just that, sucha cute and innocent person such as yourself in the arms of that gorilla made me panic.”

Did he... just call you cute? You couldn’t help your elevated heart rate, as you tried to hide it from the handsome cyborg.

“Look, it’s fine, okay? Just, don’t do it again.”

“But I need to make it up to you! What can I do to make everything up?”

If you were going to be completely honest, Genos was freaking cute. Like, no joke. He may have been a cyborg, but he was just adorable. You couldn’t let this opportunity pass, and so, you got to speaking.

“Well, I need help nursing my gorilla back to good health now, and that way you can apologize to him yourself.”

The cyborg nodded, helping you carry the gorilla to his home. You, were ecstatic as well. Genos, the class S hero would be spending time with you for at least three weeks!

And three glorious weeks were shared with him. You got to know him on a more personal level, and met his friends as well! He also observed you and your talent for caring for others, and he couldn’t help but think yet again, that you were literally the cutest most innocent person he had ever met.

You two were definitely not leaving those three weeks as just friends...

///////// Hmmmk... these were hella long and I am sleep deprived. I wrote these because I seem to be having writer’s block and I’m tired of not posting anything,,, so I made this really quick while I try to figure out inspiration once more.

There are going to be more things of this genre, “Unwanted Hero” for BNHA, Demonslayer, HunterXHunter, and Yu Yu Hakusho. If you want me to do more of these Unwanted hero prompts for other characters, let me know cause I will try my best to do so! Until next time!

My Other works: arranged. (Seto Kaiba FF) 26 Weeks. (Kurapika FF)

#anime fanfiction #fanfiction #anime fandom #fanfic #anime #one punch man #genos #amai mask #one punch man garou #garou x reader #garou the hero hunter #saitama #one punch man saitama #one punch man genos #speed of sound sonic #one punch season 2

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beronicahugs · 6 years

Text

Bruised - H.H (Soulmate AU)

Prompts: Reflecting in the mirrors is the appearance of your soulmate

If you and your soulmate possess the same item, it’ll glow

Bubbles gives you a blurry glimpse into your soulmate’s world (visions of possessions, friends, family, laughter, crying, etc)

Villain ‘Parent’ : Mother Gothel / Rapunzel

Word Count : 1k

~~~

Ever since you were younger you could remember your mother telling you about soulmates. How when you had a similar object, like the rings of your parents, they would glow. Or if you looked into something reflective, like a mirror or a bubble, you could see into your soulmates world.

For years you would carry around a mirror with you, but would only see your reflection. Your mother would give you a small smile with her green eyes and simply say “It’s not time yet”.

It didn’t last long though, because on your 8th birthday, you were looking out your window, onto the horizon. The sky was hues of pink and orange, the sun setting in the distance. Your wish hadn’t changed since you knew about soulmates. It was always the same. Take me to find them. Please let this be the year.

Your wish came true, however not in the way you wanted. That night, when you slept, dreaming of the prince who would sweep you off your feet, you were instead whisked off to the ile of the lost by none other than mother gothel herself.

~~~

Unlike when she took your mother, gothel never left the tower. She didn’t treat you with the somewhat politeness she did with her mother. She fed her small meals, forced her to use her hair to make her young and made her clean. She beat you, to the point where you would get some bruises littered around your face and arms.

The princess felt weaker everyday, gothel had taken her necklace her mother gave her as a young child. She also rid the tower of any mirrors, forcing you to have no idea or concept of your soulmate. Who they were, what they looked like.

On the rare occasion when you were washing the floors, through the bubbles you could sometimes see apparitions of waves with a flash of red.

Your mother always told you when you meet your soulmate for the first time, your whole body feels warms. You want to run into their arms and talk all night.

~~~

It was late at night. Mist hung in the sky, and a light hue of village lights could be seen from a distance. Fresh bruises littered your cheekbone and your jawline. If there was one thing gothel wouldn’t take from you was your window. It showed you how close you were to civilisation, and possibly your soulmate. But you had already tried to escape. That didn’t end well.

So you sat on your window sill, watching the lights flicker. “Y/n!” You could hear her shout.

You scrambled downstairs. Gothel stood by the kitchen counter.

“I’m going into town…You stay here and clean the floors. Don’t even think about leaving.” She glared, opened the trap door, then shut it with a key. You rushed over to the window, to see her figure disappear into the woods and to the village. She knew the weight of her threat, and therefore got out your bucket and got to work. Pouring the soap in, you watched wistfully outside, feeling a tug at at your heart, when suddenly you dropped the bottle in the bucket, spilling soap everywhere.

“Shit”

You went to the sink to rinse off your hands, before moving back over the soap bucket. Inside it was fully of bubbles, including a large one in the middle that started to show an apparition.

A night sky was formed, as your soulmate walked through a dimly lit street. A sigh that read ‘Curl up and Dye’ could be read above as it seemed they were headed there.

They looked around as they walked, to different shops and people, who seemed to slink away when they looked at them.

You let out an audible gasp and you saw the familiar, curly headed witch, walking through the streets. The city wasn’t far. Your soulmate was here. Only a few minutes away.

In previous years, you wouldn’t risk it. The bruises that would form later, and the harder your heart would break was not worth it. But now, your soulmate was so close, and you had to run to them. If you didn’t you probably would never have another chance.

Slipping on the only shoes you owned, you quickly fumbled with the trap door, before rushing down the stairs and nicking your arm on the rusty door. Your feet touched the grass for the first time in years, as you marvelled at the feeling. But you didn’t have the time, so you ran blindly into the woods. Sure enough, a few minutes later you were in town, watching as the villains lurked around the shops. How could you be so close to civilisation without anyone noticing?

You tried to stay inconspicuous, but with the hair length you inherited from your mother it was hard to stay hidden.

The shops looked worn down, some that hadn’t been used in years. One had a slightly cracked dusty mirror. Wow. You looked rough.

Bruises were all around your face and arms. The dress you were wearing was in no better shape. Your eyes were dull. A glimmer shone in the mirror before a clear view of a ship deck was seen, and a view of Aradon. “Excuse me” You stopped an old man who was walking by, “Could you tell me where the docks are?” “Follow the lights”

~~~

You ran for another ten minutes. Your feet ached, but you had to find your soulmate.

As you were just approaching the docks, you heard your name. But it wasn’t in longing, or in a recognizable way.

Turning around you saw Mother Gothel, her face red, seething with rage. Her food was tossed onto the ground as she charged towards you. You bolted ahead of her, running onto the nearest ship you could find. “HELP!” You shouted.

“I told you, you’d regret it. you know you’ll never escape” she shouted. “Hey!” A female shouted “who are you?”. She had teal hair, and a menacing look on her face.

“Please,” You ran towards her, “Help”

You guessed she could see the crazy look in your captors eyes, because she called for more crew, and someone now stood between you and Gothel. As soon as she saw the other pirates, she flipped a switch and acted like the sad mother.

“Please…It’s my daughter. She’s lost and she needs to come home” “I doubt she’s your daughter, she looks pretty scared of you. And even if she was. I still wouldn’t let you near her” The teal headed girl argued.

“You don’t even know her!” A door on your left flew open, although with the many people in front of you you couldn’t see who it was.

“I think I know her pretty well” An accented voice spoke. “And I don’t appreciate you treating her so cruelly” “She hasn’t talked to anyone in years, how the hell would you know her?” The voice came closer towards you, and people shuffled to move out of the way.

“How do you think? You locked her up with nothing. No mirrors, no lockets, no communication” Your breathing quickened, but you had no idea why. I’m going to be fine. These Pirates are going to save me and then I’ll probably have to pay them back by scrubbing their floors. At least I’ll be able to see the ocean.

The accented voice got closer, before being right next to you. “You treat a princess like that? I mean I’m no kind soul either, hell I steal from little girls shops, but you don’t beat someone. Especially not her” You looked up to see the voice defending you. Wow.

Standing next to you was a tall pirate, with a crooked hat sitting on his head. Some brown locks peaked from underneath the hat. He wore a red jacket, and held a hook in his left hand, which he hooked onto his belt. Around his eyes were slight remains of what looked like eyeliner, that looked like it had been smudged off not too long ago. His eyes were ice blue, and a soft smile was stretched onto his face.

Holy shit this was your soulmate.

You could remember what your mother had told you when she explained soulmates to you. When you meet them your body is all warm and fuzzy, and you want to hug them and talk with them all night.

Now was not the time though, as your seething ‘mother’ grabbed a dagger from a nearby stool. All the pirates around you pulled out their swords, but watched as the woman hunkered over to the pair.

“You think you can save her? She’s already broken. And crazy for thinking she can actually get out of this” She seethed at the pirate.

He showed no change, except the once soft smile was now a Cheshire-like grin. He grabbed your hand defiantly, as to test what she would do. You felt the cold rings press into your hand, and tightened your grip. “Now..Y/n. I know it might be tempting to stay here. But think about it, would you rather be with your lovely mother. Or these nasty pirates.” She paused. “You might think he can love you, but he can’t. No one can because you’re broken, and useless. So how about you and I-” “I’m just as broken as her”

You pirate nudged you behind him, broadening his shoulders. “And if you think I’d hurt a hair on her head, you’re wrong” The teal haired girl from earlier tossed him a sword, and he effortlessly caught it.

“So…You can either go back to your tower. Leave peacefully. Or we can fight. But I’m not gentle” Seconds after everyone broke out into a fight.

You were ushered into another room, away from your ‘mother’ and the boy. You could hear swords clashing and some people jumping around.

The door was kicked open, and Gothel ran over to you. She held the knife to your throat and spoke in a cold voice.

“ You will come back..You have no other choi-”

She was knocked off you in a matter of seconds, your saviour pushing her out of the way.

“She’s staying here” He growled. “Now get off my ship”

~~~

After she had left, with much resistance, your soulmate had given you one of his

shirts and you rinsed off in the shower. Stepping out of the shower and pulling the t-shirt over your head, you rung out your hair in the sink.

As you splashed cold water on your face, you looked up to see your reflection. The bruises on your face were still purple but healing.

The door creaked as you entered the dimly lit bedroom. Your soulmate lied on the bed, smiling.

“Took you long enough” he spoke, raspy with an accent.

You smiled sheepishly back and walked closer to him.

“Come on” he grabbed his wrist, “I dont bite” he pulled you down to his bed, you fell beside him. “Unless you want me to”

You squeaked, “That’s okay...”

He brought a hand up to your face and you flinched. He softly rested his hand on your cheek, looking at you with sad eyes.

“I’m sorry doll...I wouldn't hit you..”

“What’s your name?” You asked, quietly.

He flashed a grin, “Harry Hook, nice to finally meet you soulmate”

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ryik-the-writer · 7 years

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Laughter in the Walls pt. 2/2

Title: Laughter in the Walls

Rating: T

Word Count: 6575

Notes/Summary: Belle and her son Gideon move into an old house in Storybrooke to begin a fresh start. However, they find their home already occupied by a “residential haunter”.

I was having so much fun with this but I didn’t have enough time to make it as long as I wanted it to be so it’s a bit quick-paced. Still, I tried to keep it organized and tried to give it a happy ending (spoiler). Hope you all enjoy!

Side note: there’s mentions of suicide in the second chapter so please be weary.

Prompt used: Haunted House

A03

“Monsters are born of pain, and grief, and loss, and anger. Your heart is full of them."

"And?"

“And it makes you vulnerable.”

-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-

“He’s staring at me again.” Gideon said through clenched teeth.

Belle dropped her spoon back into her cereal and shot around where their “residential haunter” sat crossed-legged on the ancient countertop.

“Hi!” the scaled man greeted with a sinister smirk.

Belle glared at him, wishing her gaze would wipe that look off his face.

She and Gideon had been living in the salmon mansion for nearly a week now, and what was supposed to be a fun, joyous occasion had been an all-out war.

Their furniture had arrived the day after they moved in and the loading crew had barely gotten everything through the front door before Rumplestiltskin scared them clear out of Storybrooke. Then he had the audacity to insult her taste in furniture!

Getting the house together was nearly impossible after that. The residential haunter had promised he was not going to let them get comfortable and so far he had kept his word.

At every turn Rumplestiltskin was there to cause an inconvenience. He would turn the power and water off right when they needed it most, make tools and supplies disappear, and most annoyingly, he was there to mind each and every project Belle and her son were trying to accomplish.

“You cannot paint this room that horrid color!”

“You even think about putting that ugly dresser in there I’ll burn it into ash!”

“If I find one scuff mark on my hardwood I’ll throw all your clothes to the wind!”

“Be careful with my things!”

Now, their house was a mess and horribly unfinished. On top of that Gideon and Belle had taken to sleeping in the living room because Rumplestiltskin wouldn’t let them sleep in the bedrooms.

Their morning began at the crack of dawn with the impish man singing off-key at the top of his lungs in the bathroom, waking Belle and Gideon from an already restless sleep. When they went into the bathroom to investigate, Rumplestiltskin emerged fully nude, his scaly body glistening from the steam of the hot water.

“Geez mate!” Gideon exclaimed.

Rumplestiltskin shrugged, seeming very comfortable in his nudity. “It’s not my fault your mother hasn’t done the laundry yet.”

“I’d be able to if you’d stop turning the washer and dryer off!” Belle fought, keeping her eyes on the residential haunter’s face like her life depended on it.

Trying to regain some normalcy, Belle proceeded to make her and Gideon breakfast, a task that was hindered when Rumplestiltskin emerged out of thin air to plop his (now dry and fully clothed) arse on her countertop. Belle ignored him, her cheeks still heated, and handed Gideon his bowl and the two tried to eat in peace, but the residential haunter kept making faces at Gideon over her shoulder, horrifying ones if Gideon’s expression was anything to go by.

“Is there something you want?” Belle hissed at him.

“Other than you to leave and never return?” he shrugged. “Being offered some of your perishables would be grand, considering I didn’t cave the walls on top of your sleeping bodies last night.”

“Ghosts can’t eat.” Gideon stated matter-of-factly.

“You don’t know what I can do boy.” Rumplestiltskin growled.

Belle shot up and stalked to the counter, pulled out a spare bowl and sloppily pouring him some the cereal and milk.

“Here.” She said with a plastic smile, shoving the bowl into his hands.

The residential haunter stared down at the bowl. “You expect me to eat this how?”

Belle rolled her eyes and grabbed a spare spoon, dropping it in the bowl. “Here!”

Rumplestiltskin smiled down at the bowl. “Thank you, dearie.” He said before holding the bowl out and dropping the whole thing on the floor, causing the components to pan out and splatter on Belle’s slippers and pajama pants.

“What the hell!” Gideon gawked.

“I’m dead!” Rumple shrugged. “What use do I have with food?”

“Oh my God are you serious!”

Belle remained in a sticky shock, a thousand scenarios of murder running through her head. She knew he was just acting up to get at her, to make her want to leave, but she was not giving into his childish antics. She survived Gideon’s toddler years, and could survive this.

Without a word, she stepped out of her slippers and tiptoed her way to the hall bathroom to rinse off. Rumplestiltskin surprisingly stayed quiet, watching with interest as Belle struggled not to leave milk and flakes on the hardwood.

It wasn’t until Belle made it to the bathroom and couldn’t get the water to come on that his silence broke and he let out a gleeful giggle.

“Why isn’t the water coming on!” Belle shouted from the bathroom.

“Oh, sorry dearie! Must have used it all this morning!”

Belle stuck her head around the corner. “Turn. It. Back. On.”

Rumplestiltskin leaned in until his face was barely a foot from hers. “Nnnno!”

Belle lifted her hand, possibly to attack him, but Gideon jumped from his chair to call her off.

“Mom stop!”

Her son’s frantic voice kept her at bay and she stepped back, her glare never leaving the pest of her new home.

“There’s some bottles of water in the car. Just…hang on.” Gideon said as he rushed out the back door.

With her son now safely out of the way, Belle stepped as close and threateningly to Rumplestiltskin as she could without touching him (which she couldn’t technically do but still).

“What is your deal?” she growled at him.

“I said I wasn’t going to let you get comfortable.” He fought back. “If you’ve had enough I’ll be happy to help you pack.”

Belle seethed, having just about enough of her “residential haunter”. However, her motherly instincts kicked in and she remembered the “kill them with kindness” mantra she used to recite to Gideon when he was a little boy.

“You know,” Belle smirked. “I’m starting to think you enjoy having us around.”

Rumplestiltskin’s confident stance melted in an instant, his expression projecting horror.

“Why on earth or any realm would you think that? I tell you twice a day I want you gone!”

“True, but your methods are more annoying than terrifying.”

“If you’d like me to change my methods I’d be glad to!”

“I would like a change.” Belle said. “I’d like us to live together in some sort of harmony.”

For once, Rumplestiltskin was silent, confused at the angle she was going for.

“Whether you like it or not,” Belle said, “Gideon and I are here to stay. And if you’re here to stay as well, then why don’t we try to be friends?”

Something in Rumplestiltskin’s expression changed, softened his violent features. But then a flash of darkness swallowed the softness whole and he snarled at her.

“In your dreams.”

Before Belle could try to reason with him, the back door opened and Gideon returned with an armful of water bottles.

He paused when he saw the lack of distance between his mom and house-haunter.

“Everything…okay?”

Rumplestiltskin jumped from the counter, brushing past Belle and disappearing from the room.

Belle sighed and sagged into one of the chairs exhaustedly.

Gideon approached her cautiously, sitting the bottles on the table. “That B&B gaining any appeal?”

Belle smiled tiredly, turning to take her son’s hand. “Actually I think I’m starting to break him a little.”

“Really.”

“I don’t know. Find a rag and take a couple of these with you to the upstairs bathroom. We’ll have to rely on rag-baths until SOMEONE TURNS THE BLOODY WATER ON!”

“Not bloody likely you cow!” Rumplestiltskin’s voice echoed.

Just as Belle was about to yell back, the doorbell (amazingly one of the few things Rumplestiltskin kept functioning) echoed throughout the house.

Belle and Gideon exchanged curious looks. Since their arrival in Storybrooke, the only people who would make solid conversation with were the elderly dinner owner and the soon-to-retire librarian.

“So much for small-town hospitality.” Gideon would joke each time they braced the townspeople weary stares.

“They just have to get used to us.” Belle would say, though she was greatly discouraged that they were being treated so coldly.

With this cold reception, they were immensely surprised to find their petrified-looking real-estate agent and another man on their porch, tin foiled-covered dish in his arms.

“Hi…” Belle greeted uncertainly.

“Hi.” The man greeted with a charming smile. “I’m David Nolan, Mary Margaret’s husband.”

“Oh.” Belle nodded. “It’s nice to meet you.” She reached for David’s hand, and he looked cautiously inside the house before he balanced the pan and took it.

She glanced at Gideon whose attention was focused on the Nolan’s truck.

“Is Neal here?” Belle asked, concealing her smirk when Gideon shot her a look.

“No, he’s at home today.” David said, giving a small smile to Neal. “You’ll see him at school once the break’s over.”

Gideon made a nonchalant sound but Belle could tell he was disappointed.

“These are for you.” David said to change the subject. “Would you mind taking them in? We wanted to talk to your mother a moment.”

“I’m not ten.” Gideon grumbled.

“Thank you, Gideon.” Belle said with a definite air.

Gideon sighed and took the tray from Mr. Nolan and stomped inside.

“I’ve been meaning to call you.” Belle directed towards Mary Margaret.

“About?” Mary Margaret inquired with a sense of urgency, causing her husband to put a gentle hand on the small of her back.

Belle stepped onto the porch and closed the door, hoping that her son and her residential haunter were out of earshot.

“Our house is haunted.” Belle stated without hesitance. “It…he’s a poltergeist of some sort. He can control the house. The lights, the water, even the machines.”

Both the Nolans stared at her and Belle hoped they didn’t have the number to an asylum in their phones.

“I know this sounds crazy but-”

“You’ve seen him?” Mary Margaret gasped. “You’ve seen Mr. Gold?”

“Has he hurt you or your son?” David jumped in.

Belle wasn’t sure what was stranger: the fact that the Nolans believed her or that they had the wrong ghost. How many houses in this town were haunted?

“Um…I’ve seen Rumplestiltskin but there is no Mr. Gold here.”

“Who?” the Nolans asked in unison.

This was more exhausting than dealing with the ghost!

“His name is Rumplestiltskin. He wears leather and has gold scales. He’s also utterly annoying but not necessarily dangerous.”

The Nolan’s looked just as confused as Belle felt. Mary Margaret sighed and shifted through her purse, pulling out a small manila envelope and pulling out its components.

“Does he look anything like this?”

Belle took the crumpled-up newspaper clipping and looked at the gray, wrinkled face in the photo. It took her a moment to connect the face with Rumplestiltskin’s but ultimately it was the shape of his nose and sad eyes that gave him away.

The man looking back at her was her residential haunter. He was a man once, a human being with thoughts and fears. It wasn’t until now that he seemed less like a figment and more human. It was almost enough to bring her to tears.

“What happened to him?” Belle asked quietly, keeping her eyes on the picture.

“He…took his own life.” David said carefully.

Belle’s gaze shot from the paper to the Nolans. She couldn’t grasp the idea that the borderline sociopathic man-child haunting her could do something like that. She had never really wondered how he died, just accepted that he was here and that he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

She blinked back tears of sympathy and straightened her spine. “Do you have any idea why?”

Mary Margaret shrugged. “No one knew much about his personal life. He was so…bitter and cold. No one was really sad to see him go.”

Both David and Belle stared in shock at Mary Margaret.

“I just meant that no one went to his funeral!” Mary Margaret defended quickly. “He wasn’t well-liked.”

Belle took a calming breath through her nose. “What about his family?”

“He…had a son.” David shrugged. “But...”

A loud crash from upstairs cut David off. A chair from the main bedroom and a shower of broken glass rained down and covered the yard, causing Belle and the Nolans to scream and take cover.

“Mom!” Gideon yelled from inside.

Belle shot into the house, meeting her son in the middle of the stairs. He wasn’t hurt but he looked terrified.

“Something’s wrong.” He said. “He just started screaming and throwing things.”

Belle glanced back at the Nolans who were watching just outside the house, afraid to step over the threshold.

“You should go.” She said to them, racing up the stairs before finding out if they had listened.

Sounds of glass and wood breaking echoed through the main bedroom. With each crash Belle could feel his pain, feel the years of anguish and loneliness vibrate through the walls.

Suddenly it all stopped, and it was so quiet.

And the quiet was more terrifying than the laughter.

“Stay out here.” Belle warned her son.

“Mom no!” Gideon cried.

Belle placed a comforting hand on his cheek before moving in, twisting the knob and finding it unlocked, as if Rumplestiltskin wanted her comfort after all.

She had to push it open as the dresser had been pushed in front of it. The whole room had been torn to shreds, the furniture destroyed, the walls embedded with claw marks. She found the residential haunter sitting on the clawed bed, slouched over, intertwined hands shaking.

“What’s wrong?” Belle asked quietly.

Rumplestiltskin shook his head, his jaw clenched tight.

“They had no right.” He hissed. “Who the hell do they think they are telling you about me!”

Belle stepped forward, leaning on the post of the bed. “They were just trying to help—”

“They were trying to appease their own guilt!” he yelled at her, jumping from the bed and pacing the floor.

“What can I do?” she pleaded to him. “How can I help you?”

“Help me what?” he laughed wetly. He shot around with a flourish, pointing at her with one of his dark talons. “Move on? Go to the light? Meet my maker!”

“No…I…”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he snarled, slowly advancing towards her. “You’d like me to disappear from your life for good so that you and your spawn could take over?”

A twinge of anger shot through Belle’s heart. No one talked about her son that way.

“I get your upset, but you need to shut your mouth and calm the hell down.”

The residential haunter scoffed, falling back on the bed. “I’m dead, dearie.”

Belle rolled her eyes and the two were silent. He was so stubborn and despite how whimsical he acted, he was in so much pain. She had to help him somehow, even if it was just to bring him a moment’s peace.

She carefully approached the bed, taking a seat close to him. He glanced at her, stiffening from the close contact.

“Tell me what happened.” she whispered, giving him one of the comforting smiles that always made Gideon open up when he was upset.

Rumplestiltskin sat up, staring at some point on the wall and shrugged. “I took that dagger you found and slit my throat with it. Not much more to tell really.”

Belle shivered from his callousness but pressed on. “There’s always more. And you can tell, I won’t judge you.”

He remained quiet, keep his eyes averted.

Belle took a deep breath and picked at what she knew would be his deepest wound.

“Tell me about your son.”

He blinked, the only recognition that he heard her.

“Do you need help contacting him? Do you know where he is?”

A small smile spread on Rumplestiltskin’s tightly-woven lips. “He’s where all good boys go.”

Belle felt her blood run cold. “He’s…”

“Dead.” Rumplestiltskin snarled, his lip shaking. He jumped up from the bed, moving to the window. “Car accident.” He spoke quietly. “He was gone instantly.”

Belle glanced at the door where she was certain her son was listening in. She felt the strong urge to run out there and wrap him in her arms and use her body to shield him from the disasters and violence of the world.

“You killed yourself so you could be with him.” Belle clarified.

Rumplestiltskin giggled, a wet heavy noise that sounded more like a scream than laughter. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“I’m sorry.” Belle said, the only thing she could think to say. “I’m so sorry.”

Rumplestiltskin turned to her, his glassy eyes searching her face for the falsity. No one cared whether he was in pain or not. That Nolan woman said so herself. Why was Belle different?

“You know the worst of the worst about me now dearie.” He said. “This house is my own personal Hell, the place I have to stay to pay for my cowardliness. I even took on this beastly form to go accompany my sentence. A few others have come in and tried to make it theirs, but I’ve always gotten them out within a weeks’ time.” He turned to her with a small, almost prideful smile.

“And now there’s you. You still refuse to run away. I admire your bravery, yours and your boy’s. But…” he shook his head, the words he was about to speak weighing down his tongue. “you need to leave. You and your son deserve a home to call your own, and I can’t give you that.”

Belle allowed him to say what he needed to, but found it to be a sincerer rendition of what she’d heard before. He wanted her gone because he felt like he deserved to be alone.

She stood and strode to him.

“First off, suicide is not cowardly.” Belle growled, her voice shaking. “You lost a child. You did the only thing you thought you could to end the pain.”

Rumplestiltskin bowed his head in a sense of gratitude.

“Secondly, I’m not going anywhere—hold on, let me finish what I’ve got to say.”

Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes but allowed her demand.

“You’ve let this place become your prison, but it doesn’t have to be. I told you earlier that I was willing to make a home with you and I mean it. We can be a family.”

Rumplestiltskin bristled at the term, automatically rejecting such a concept.

“You’re making an indistinctly bold offer, dearie. Are you sure you want to pay the price that comes with it?”

Belle gave him a gentle smile, seeing the distress around his pupils. Without hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his cold form, holding in the embrace just loose enough so that he wouldn’t phase through her.

Rumplestiltskin stiffened, shocked by how warm she was and by the fact she was bloody hugging him! Did she really think that would butter him up and crush his dissolve?!

Well…maybe a bit…

The door opening caused Belle to pull back from him. Gideon stuck his head in, staring at the two with mixed disapproval.

“Again?” he said.

“It’s nothing!”

“We were just talking.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Anyway, the Nolans are still downstairs and they’re freaking out. Could you…”

“On it.” Belle said, giving Rumplestiltskin one last pat on the shoulder before exiting the room.

Gideon and the residential haunter stared at each other when she left, neither quite sure how to begin.

“So…” Gideon said. “I heard pretty much all of that and I have to say this whole thing is bloody insane.”

Rumplestiltskin snorted. Though his opinion of Belle’s sarcastic and disgruntled son was moderate, he appreciated his laidback disposition on such matters.

Gideon wasn’t sure what he could say. He had heard Rumplestiltskin bare his soul to his mother and didn’t think there was anything to add that she hadn’t.

“So…wanna go downstairs and make dinner or something?”

“Ghost don’t eat.” Rumplestiltskin mocked.

Gideon shrugged. “Doesn’t mean you can’t sit at the table, geez.”

Rumplestiltskin was a bit taken aback from this unusual gentleness from Belles’s son. He wasn’t sure how to handle this shift of love and kindness from them. It was unnerving.

“I’ll…wait for them to leave.” He nodded below.

“Fair enough.” Gideon nodded, closing the door slightly.

He was alone again, but it sickened Rumplestiltskin just how unhinged he felt about it now. The French’s were a poison to his accustomed way of (un)life, but also an elixir to his bleak afterlife.

A week ago he wanted them gone so that he could continue his lonely existence. Now the idea of them being gone filled his unbeaten heart with dread.

How sickeningly human he had become.

He rolled his eyes, trying to bury the feelings. He couldn’t focus on them now. He might as well join the damned French’s for dinner. Maybe he’d flick peas at Gideon to make himself feel better.

With an aggravated sigh, he snapped his fingers and the house came back to life, the lights and appliances turning on. He supposed he could offer them this small luxury as an olive branch.

He glanced around the destroyed bedroom, the room he had spent so many lonely nights in. The room Belle wanted to claim as her own.

He smirked in his mischievous impish way and with a wave of his hand it was back in one piece.

She could have it now.

#Rumbelle Revelry #Rumbelle Revelry 2017 #rumbelle fic #ryik's fics

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soccernetghana · 4 years

Text

Gold Rush: The inside story of Ghana’s 2006 World Cup bonus row

[caption id="attachment_434362" align="alignnone" width="468"] COLOGNE, GERMANY - JUNE 17: Stephen Appiah celebrates after Asamoah Gyan of Ghana scores the first goal of the game during the FIFA World Cup Germany 2006 Group E match between Czech Republic and Ghana at the Stadium Colonge on June 17, 2006 in Colonge, Germany. (Photo by Vladimir Rys/Bongarts/Getty Images) *** Local Caption *** Asamoah Gyan;Stephen Appiah;Matthew Amoah[/caption] The tension and a rocky relationship between the handlers of the Ghana football association and the playing body, the Black Stars over money did not commence at the Brazil 2014 World Cup. It was only the stage where the laundry basket could no longer contain the dirty linen. The innocent football fan, fueled by passion for the game only wants to see victories while earning bragging rights over rivals but winning comes at a cost especially at the highest level of professional sports. The Black Stars prior to the World Cup in Germany were handled in a semi professional manner at best and coordinating players to congregate to execute a national agenda was in itself an extreme sport. Player apathy was rife at this point within the national team as veterans had to persistently purchase their own tickets while housing themselves on several occasions whenever national assignments needed taking care of. Players were not happy and a boycott was on the horizon and then in came the Kwesi Nyantakyi led administration with its exuberance and bright ideas. Through individuals like Kofi Amoah, corporate sponsorship deals including the headline Goldfields deal was secured but these were the early days of treating players like real professionals. It had a lot of rough edges and was not yet ingrained in the DNA of these administrators, at least not on the level that most of these players were used to with their clubs in Europe. Ghanaians were high off the euphoria of qualifying for the 2006 World Cup in Germany, finally a proud but faltering footballing nation would rub shoulders with the super powers of the sport. With Ghana aiming to brave Group G which included eventual winners Italy, Czech Republic and the United States the feeling was one of tense excitement at least purely from where I stood as a young man in Mfantsipim at the time. Classes were halted so we could all cram into the dining hall to watch the games, that’s how big a deal this was to Ghanaians. Unknown to them however is the mental, spiritual and physical machinations that occur in the background that have nothing to do with grass and a round object being kicked around. Individuals project their legacies and life ambitions when opportunities like the world cup come around. The bustle for a slice of that cake holds a strong seduction over FA presidents, Black Stars management committee members, coaches, journalists, media houses, travel and tour agencies among others. Even the job of equipment guy is heavily lobbied for in such times. Everyone forgets the main actors, the players: the warriors that strive through dislocated limbs, cuts, heavy legs and heavy hearts to get Ghana over the line to its first ever World Cup. But that was all about to change Before money was flown to Brazil, Pablo Escobar style to pay revolting players, before John Boye ever kissed a wad of cash, the administrators of the GFA looked upon the 2006 World Cup achievement as a product of their hard work. The players felt an even greater sense of entitlement and thus the stage was set for a showdown. The unraveling started as an accident, mainly because for most athletes, playing in the world cup was a dream and so much attention was not paid to the financial gain of the competition. In the case of Ghana’s contingent they were excepting nothing but what they would be given as winning bonuses ($10,000). The entire 28 man squad kick started camp in England after which the team moved to Scotland to continue with preparations. Following the team’s final training session ahead of their scheduled flight to Austria, some players including Yussif Chibsah and Otto Addo got wind of their Ivorian Counterparts threatening to boycott the World Cup if they weren’t paid $20,000 as appearance fees. While Chibsah run some background checks with his news connections, Otto Addo called up a few of his colleagues in the German national team who validated the information. Ghana’s 2006 World Cup squad were not going to back down. Players Circle This sparked the lads to call a players only meeting where the decision was taken to conduct more due diligence on the matter before presenting their findings and their case to the Black Stars management Committee. In attendance were Baffour Gyan, Samuel Osei Kuffour, John Mensah, Stephen Appiah and Yussif Chibsah who was described by his teammates as the accountant because in these meetings he came along with his pen and paper. The players felt an urgency to earn as much as they could from the competition because they did not believe that Ghana had realistic chances of defeating Italy and the Czech Republic. A paycheck of just $ 10,000 at perhaps the most popular event on the planet was not going to cut it. Armed with bulletproof information and a shared sense of brotherhood the decision was taken to either get theirs or down tools. “The word among the players heading into the competition was that we could not beat the Italians nor the Czech’s who had the likes of Pirlo and Nedved. “Guys were scared, that’s a fact. “Our only hope of making some money was to beat the United States whom we knew we could manage. “With that in mind we took the decision to revolt until what was rightly ours was given. “The officials were in panic mode at our change in aura,” revealed Baba Amando a member of the five man stand by or emergency team. The first batch of negotiations were diplomatic and were led by Fred Pappoe who was Chairman of the management Committee as well as Randy Abbey who was communications director. At this juncture the players asked to be paid $50,000 or they would boycott the World Cup. They came to an agreement with management that all players in camp should be paid $50,000 and while the conversation was ongoing Chibsah quickly did the math for all 28 players. Negotiations did not end there but continued to Austria where the management of the team suggested wiring player’s monies to the FA headquarters in Ghana where benefactors could pick it up on their behalf but that idea was shut down by Bayern Munich’s Kuffour who didn’t think it feasible. The team arrived in Germany with all involved believing that equality was the name of the game. The World Cup kicked off and all appeared calm and normal until the eve of Ghana’s first ever World Cup match against Italy in Hannover. Warzone The management of the team pulled a U – turn on the earlier agreement to give everyone $50,000 and had now decided that the 5 members of the emergency squad would only be entitled to $10,000 when the team arrived in Cologne. This did not go down well with the playing body. A meeting was called to discuss the new developments and the direction that would be taken. The tension ramped up to a whole different level when former GFA President Kwesi Nyantakyi had to sit in this meeting according to a member of the squad. The five man emergency squad which included Yussif Chibsah, Baffour Gyan, Philemon McCarthy, Baba Amando and Aziz Ansah were incensed at the decision. The players were united in their stance that every one of them should be entitled to the same amount especially as some had played key roles in the qualifying process. Baffour Gyan in particular was allegedly on the verge of losing his cool and was seething with anger. He played in one of Ghana’s qualifiers with his hand bandaged to his side with Ghana out of substitutions. Among the permanent 23 man squad were guys who hadn’t logged a single minute of football during the qualification journey. This they felt was the highest form of injustice. But all hell broke loose when Otto Addo questioned the team officials to justify the sudden change in stance. Baffour Gyan had seen enough and rose to give the meeting a piece of his mind as well but was quickly asked to sit down. The players saw this as an attempt to highlight the disrespect of Baffour Gyan and an attempt to divert from the agenda at hand. In the heat of the moment Sulley Muntari broke out of the huddle and hurled a chair across the room in disgust in the direction of the FA boss and the officials present. They scattered in all directions, the meeting was over. After his fight with a member of the Black Stars management committee during the Brazil 2014 World Cup, Muntari was painted a villain but it appears his actions had roots from 2006. Sulley had always been regarded by Ghanaian football fans as a maverick and by his teammates as one who would take one for his brothers as would later be witnessed at Brazil 2014. Stephen Appiah was also singled out as one of the leaders within the team fighting for equality in the distribution of the remuneration. It was later concluded that the emergency 5 would take home $10,000 while the main squad took home $50,000. Following the agitations they were then segregated from the rest of the Group for the rest of the competition but the damage had already been done. A senior member of the Black Stars management committee who was reached for comment disagreed with the players version of events. Ironically, its 2020 and they still have not received a dime of the $10,000 that was promised. “A couple of years after the incident some of the players enquired and we got in touch with the FA. “Then FA president Kwesi Nyanyakyi admitted that he remembers the situation with our money but he also pointed out that the FA was in financial difficulty and that when they had money they would pay. “That was all, we have not followed it again but we have also not received any money,” Chibsah revealed while on The Tracker on Citi TV. The Ghana Football Association received close to $8.8 million dollars from FIFA as total prize money with about half that sum going to government. On the pitch the Black Stars went on to exceed expectations by finishing second in Group E with 6 points after victories against the Czech Republic and United States. They however succumbed to a 3 – 0 humbling against Brazil in the first round of the knockout phase. This was a team excited to play well and enjoy themselves while auditioning for future suitors despite not being too confident. That objective was derailed and diluted with persistent talk of money which was not their intention. The players trust in the administrators was broken and there was no going back. It might have happened to only 5 members of the pack but the ripple effect stained the entire group and they would never forget. This should put to bed the discussion of whether players only care to play for their nation based purely off patriotism and not financial gain. As much as footballers love their countries and feel a sense of pride to wear its colours, they also appreciate that it’s a job which could end abruptly. A word to the wise. Source: Citisportsonline source: https://ghanasoccernet.com/

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footballghana · 4 years

Text

Gold Rush: The inside story of Ghana’s 2006 World Cup bonus row

Seeds of Secrecy

“The management team were shocked when we asked about the appearance fees, they didn’t expect us to throw that to them or raise any issues,” Yussif Chibsah a member of Ghana’s Black Stars contingent to the 2006 World Cup revealed casually.

The tension and a rocky relationship between the handlers of the Ghana football association and the playing body, the Black Stars over money did not commence at the Brazil 2014 World Cup.

It was only the stage where the laundry basket could no longer contain the dirty linen.

The innocent football fan, fueled by a passion for the game only wants to see victories while earning bragging rights over rivals but winning comes at a cost especially at the highest level of professional sports.

The Black Stars prior to the World Cup in Germany were handled in a semi-professional manner at best and coordinating players to congregate to execute a national agenda was in itself an extreme sport.

Player apathy was rife at this point within the national team as veterans had to persistently purchase their own tickets while housing themselves on several occasions whenever national assignments needed taking care of.

Players were not happy and a boycott was on the horizon and then in came the Kwesi Nyantakyi led administration with its exuberance and bright ideas.

Through individuals like Kofi Amoah, corporate sponsorship deals including the headline Goldfields deal was secured but these were the early days of treating players like real professionals.

It had a lot of rough edges and was not yet ingrained in the DNA of these administrators, at least not on the level that most of these players were used to with their clubs in Europe.

Ghanaians were high off the euphoria of qualifying for the 2006 World Cup in Germany, finally, a proud but faltering footballing nation would rub shoulders with the superpowers of the sport.

With Ghana aiming to brave Group G which included eventual winners Italy, Czech Republic and the United States the feeling was one of tense excitement at least purely from where I stood as a young man in Mfantsipim at the time.

Classes were halted so we could all cram into the dining hall to watch the games, that’s how big a deal this was to Ghanaians.

Unknown to them however is the mental, spiritual and physical machinations that occur in the background that have nothing to do with grass and a round object being kicked around.

Individuals project their legacies and life ambitions when opportunities like the world cup come around.

The bustle for a slice of that cake holds a strong seduction over FA presidents, Black Stars management committee members, coaches, journalists, media houses, travel and tour agencies among others.

Even the job of equipment guy is heavily lobbied for in such times.

Everyone forgets the main actors, the players: the warriors that strive through dislocated limbs, cuts, heavy legs and heavy hearts to get Ghana over the line to its first-ever World Cup.

But that was all about to change

Before money was flown to Brazil, Pablo Escobar style to pay revolting players, before John Boye ever kissed a wad of cash, the administrators of the GFA looked upon the 2006 World Cup achievement as a product of their hard work.

The players felt an even greater sense of entitlement and thus the stage was set for a showdown.

The unravelling started as an accident, mainly because for most athletes, playing in the world cup was a dream and so much attention was not paid to the financial gain of the competition.

In the case of Ghana’s contingent, they were excepting nothing but what they would be given as winning bonuses ($10,000).

The entire 28 man squad kick-started camp in England after which the team moved to Scotland to continue with preparations.

Following the team’s final training session ahead of their scheduled flight to Austria, some players including Yussif Chibsah and Otto Addo got wind of their Ivorian Counterparts threatening to boycott the World Cup if they weren’t paid $20,000 as appearance fees.

While Chibsah runs some background checks with his news connections, Otto Addo called up a few of his colleagues in the German national team who validated the information.

Ghana’s 2006 World Cup squad were not going to back down.

Players Circle

This sparked the lads to call a players-only meeting where the decision was taken to conduct more due diligence on the matter before presenting their findings and their case to the Black Stars Management Committee.

In attendance were Baffour Gyan, Samuel Osei Kuffour, John Mensah, Stephen Appiah and Yussif Chibsah who was described by his teammates as the accountant because in these meetings he came along with his pen and paper.

The players felt an urgency to earn as much as they could from the competition because they did not believe that Ghana had realistic chances of defeating Italy and the Czech Republic.

A paycheck of just $ 10,000 at perhaps the most popular event on the planet was not going to cut it.

Armed with bulletproof information and a shared sense of brotherhood the decision was taken to either get theirs or down tools.

“The word among the players heading into the competition was that we could not beat the Italians nor the Czech’s who had the likes of Pirlo and Nedved.

“Guys were scared, that’s a fact.

“Our only hope of making some money was to beat the United States whom we knew we could manage.

“With that in mind we took the decision to revolt until what was rightly ours was given.

“The officials were in panic mode at our change in aura,” revealed Baba Amando a member of the five man stand by or emergency team.

The first batch of negotiations were diplomatic and were led by Fred Pappoe who was Chairman of the Management Committee as well as Randy Abbey who was communications director.

At this juncture, the players asked to be paid $50,000 or they would boycott the World Cup.

They came to an agreement with management that all players in camp should be paid $50,000 and while the conversation was ongoing Chibsah quickly did the math for all 28 players.

Negotiations did not end there but continued to Austria where the management of the team suggested wiring player’s monies to the FA headquarters in Ghana where benefactors could pick it up on their behalf but that idea was shut down by Bayern Munich’s Kuffour who didn’t think it feasible.

The team arrived in Germany with all involved believing that equality was the name of the game.

The World Cup kicked off and all appeared calm and normal until the eve of Ghana’s first-ever World Cup match against Italy in Hannover.

Warzone

The management of the team pulled a U-turn on the earlier agreement to give everyone $50,000 and had now decided that the 5 members of the emergency squad would only be entitled to $10,000 when the team arrived in Cologne.

This did not go down well with the playing body.

A meeting was called to discuss the new developments and the direction that would be taken.

The tension ramped up to a whole different level when former GFA President Kwesi Nyantakyi had to sit in this meeting according to a member of the squad.

The five-man emergency squad which included Yussif Chibsah, Baffour Gyan, Philemon McCarthy, Baba Amando and Aziz Ansah were incensed at the decision.

The players were united in their stance that every one of them should be entitled to the same amount especially as some had played key roles in the qualifying process.

Baffour Gyan, in particular, was allegedly on the verge of losing his cool and was seething with anger.

He played in one of Ghana’s qualifiers with his hand bandaged to his side with Ghana out of substitutions.

Among the permanent 23 man squad were guys who hadn’t logged a single minute of football during the qualification journey. This they felt was the highest form of injustice.

But all hell broke loose when Otto Addo questioned the team officials to justify the sudden change in stance.

Baffour Gyan had seen enough and rose to give the meeting a piece of his mind as well but was quickly asked to sit down.

The players saw this as an attempt to highlight the disrespect of Baffour Gyan and an attempt to divert from the agenda at hand.

In the heat of the moment, Sulley Muntari broke out of the huddle and hurled a chair across the room in disgust in the direction of the FA boss and the officials present.

They scattered in all directions, the meeting was over.

After his fight with a member of the Black Stars management committee during the Brazil 2014 World Cup, Muntari was painted a villain but it appears his actions had roots from 2006.

Sulley had always been regarded by Ghanaian football fans as a maverick and by his teammates as one who would take one for his brothers as would later be witnessed at Brazil 2014.

Stephen Appiah was also singled out as one of the leaders within the team fighting for equality in the distribution of the remuneration.

It was later concluded that the emergency 5 would take home $10,000 while the main squad took home $50,000.

Following the agitations, they were then segregated from the rest of the Group for the rest of the competition but the damage had already been done.

Ironically, its 2020 and they still have not received a dime of the $10,000 that was promised.

“A couple of years after the incident some of the players enquired and we got in touch with the FA.

“Then FA president Kwesi Nyanyakyi admitted that he remembers the situation with our money but he also pointed out that the FA was in financial difficulty and that when they had money they would pay.

“That was all, we have not followed it again but we have also not received any money,” Chibsah revealed while on The Tracker on Citi TV.

The Ghana Football Association received close to $8.8 million dollars from FIFA as total prize money with about half that sum going to government.

On the pitch, the Black Stars went on to exceed expectations by finishing second in Group E with 6 points after victories against the Czech Republic and United States.

They however succumbed to a 3 – 0 humbling against Brazil in the first round of the knockout phase.

This was a team excited to play well and enjoy themselves while auditioning for future suitors despite not being too confident.

That objective was derailed and diluted with persistent talk of money which was not their intention.

The players trust in the administrators was broken and there was no going back.

It might have happened to only 5 members of the pack but the ripple effect stained the entire group and they would never forget.

This should put to bed the discussion of whether players only care to play for their nation based purely off patriotism and not financial gain.

As much as footballers love their countries and feel a sense of pride to wear its colours, they also appreciate that it’s a job which could end abruptly.

A word to the wise.

Benjamin Nketsia - Citi FM

source: https://footballghana.com/

0 notes