#it never hurts to ask so true slash will play with anyone

[sodalitefully]

A year after they laid down the vocals, Ronson sent Gosling the finished track "with Slash on it and everybody" and the La La Land star was "psyched and satisfied."

Well, yeah. Slash is on it. Why is Slash on it?

Turns out Slash is Ronson's "all-time hero" and though he didn't know him very well, "it never hurts to ask," the Oscar-winner noted.

"I sent him the song and he was like, 'This is a good song... cool, I'll play on it,'" Ronson recalled. "He kills it, he plays the solo at the end and the rhythm parts. It's wonderful."

#WHAT. #god I love him #god I can’t wait for interviewers to bring this up I hope they do #it never hurts to ask so true slash will play with anyone #Michael Jackson Rihanna Ken Dr. Doofenshmirtz #‘all time hero’ 🥺🥺 same bro #slash #saul hudson #gnr #guns n roses #barbie #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #mark ronson #ryan gosling #my stuff

[cookie-run-kingdom-story]

Secret of the Slashed Painting: Investigating the Cookies

Walnut Cookie: Did you meet anyone that night? Angel Cookie: I watched Rockstar and Firecracker Cookie… My ears are still hurt… Butter Pretzel Cookie: ...I met Birthday Cake Cookie. Herb Cookie: I came here with Strawberry Cookie, but later I was all by myself. I talked to Gumball Cookie for a brief moment. I then found Strawberry Cookie and went home. Firecracker Cookie: Angel Cookie watched me play with my firecrackers! Mustard Cookie: Again, I was on an errand for Grams. I didn’t meet any other Cookies. Gumball Cookie: Mustard Cookie said she was on an errand and we chatted for a bit! Rockstar Cookie: Angel Cookie watched me perform!

Almond Cookie: Are you really innocent? Angel Cookie: I do not lie… Butter Pretzel Cookie: ...My butter painting is very important to me. Herb Cookie: I usually visit both the garden and the warehouse, but this time, I didn’t visit the warehouse at all. Firecracker Cookie: All the Cookies who heard my firecrackers that night will know! Mustard Cookie: True artists don’t vandalize other Cookies’ art! Gumball Cookie: A masterpiece painted with butter? Add some gumballs and it can become BETTER! Rockstar Cookie: Stars are bound to be seen wherever we go! Ain’t nobody seen me in that garden!

Walnut Cookie: Have you seen Butter Pretzel Cookie’s painting? bCookie: A cloth covered it… I didn’t see it at all… Butter Pretzel Cookie: If you’re going to keep asking questions like this… Can I just leave? Herb Cookie: I heard about it, but never saw it. Maybe I’ll go see it next time. Firecracker Cookie: I was supposed to leave my firecrackers behind if I wanted to see the painting. So I decided to not see the painting at all! HEHE! Mustard Cookie: I’ve never set foot in that exhibition. Gumball Cookie: Colors from my gumball cannon are better! Rockstar Cookie: If I get invited to perform center stage, then yeah, I’ll go see it!

Almond Cookie: Do you know where the warehouse is? Angel Cookie: I don’t know anything about a warehouse… Butter Pretzel Cookie: Maybe it’s somewhere in the garden…? Herb Cookie: It’s the first thing you see when entering the garden and there are gardening tools inside. Firecracker Cookie: Birthday Cake Cookie told me it’s not nice to play with firecrackers in closed spaces! So nope, didn’t go there! Mustard Cookie: I know it’s somewhere inside the garden. Gumball Cookie: A warehouse? Sounds boring! Dunno where it is! Rockstar Cookie: A warehouse? Nah, solo gigs are best performed outdoors!

Walnut Cookie: Have you been to the garden? Angel Cookie: Roaming outside the museum took longer than expected… I did not make it to the garden… Butter Pretzel Cookie: The garden… The perfect spot for some inspiration. Herb Cookie: It’s such a beautiful garden… I feel so comfortable there. Firecracker Cookie: Birthday Cake Cookie asked me to wait outside. She didn’t say I couldn’t play outside, so I was popping some firecrackers behind the museum! But nowhere near the garden at all! Mustard Cookie: *Sigh* Again, I’m on an errand for Grams and cutting through there is a good shortcut to take back. Gumball Cookie: Been there a few times, but it’s boring! That place is so bland and normal, doesn’t fit my vibe! Rockstar Cookie: I didn’t go to the garden because I was too busy prepping a solo concert outside!

#walnut cookie #almond cookie #angel cookie #butter pretzel cookie #herb cookie #gumball cookie #firecracker cookie #mustard cookie #rockstar cookie #cookie run #cr dialogue

[grimrester]

Deltarune: Whose Choices Matter? (major spoilers for all routes)

I'm so extremely sure others have discussed this to death already, but I'm obsessed with the themes of "choice" in Deltarune. What's really stuck in my head are these three things:

1. At the start, you, the player, are told no one can choose who they are in this world and that your choices don't matter. The character you make gets thrown away.

2. Pretty much the second you're in the dark world, Ralsei starts telling Kris that their "choices are important too."

3. Toby has said many times that there is "only one ending" and, in one interview, that there's "something more important than reaching the end."

Lots of people have said that Toby was lying since there obviously are differences in both chapters depending on the choices you make. But I don't think that's true. Toby's the type to use clever wording to tell half-truths, but not straight up lie.

It's technically true that there's just one ending. No matter what the player does, the king still ends up in jail. Queen still stops her plan and joins you. Kris still opens up another dark foundation.

The changes in each playthrough are only indirectly the result of the player's actions. They are instead direct results of how the characters treat Kris and each other because of how you acted. Your actions don't matter and can't effect how the story plays out in and of themselves. But because all the key moments - the pillars, Ralsei revealing the story of the Roaring, etc - hinge on the characters' actions, their choices are the ones that matter and the ending is always more or less the same. This theme of choice and the effect of your actions on others is central to pretty much every "changeable" part of the story.

Let me provide some examples.

1. Minor Details

If you toss away the manual Ralsei gives you in chapter 1, he'll put a trashcan in Kris' room instead of a stand for the manual.

This is a really small, pretty insignificant detail. It doesn't affect the story. I personally never touched the manual again even though I kept it. If you toss it, Ralsei still gives Kris/the player tips on how to play. But Toby still programmed it in. He programmed Ralsei to notice you threw away something he worked on, and to treat you differently as a result. Maybe just as a joke, sure. But there's many other instances of characters remembering your actions and treating you accordingly.

Another example: If you step off one of the first electric wall switches before Noelle is done crossing to the other side to stand on the other button, she scolds you and then pulls the same prank on you. Kris looks hurt in response - because they're getting punished for something you did. It's a lot harder to brush this one off as just a joke when it ends with someone feeling hurt.

2. Kris' Dialogue

The player chooses a lot of dialogue for Kris. But sometimes Kris speaks on their own or chooses how they say what they're told by the player to say.

After the Spamton NEO fight, if you choose to tell Susie you're okay, Susie will think about how Kris is speaking hoarsely, and so she thinks Kris probably isn't okay. If you choose to say you're not okay, Ralsei says Kris is yelling. No matter what option you choose, Kris chooses to do their best to communicate that they are definitely not okay. It's Kris' choice here that matters and effects how the characters react, not yours.

3. Recruiting

Chapter 2 hammers in the idea that sparing enemies is important by introducing the recruiting mechanic. But recruiting doesn't seem to actually do much yet, aside from giving you some extra dialogue and dojo challenges.

At one point, there's some tutorial text from Ralsei that mentions how from now on, fighting an enemy instead of sparing it will make it unable to be recruited. Then it specifically mentions that there might be times where breaking bonds will make you stronger. There was something like this in chapter 1, too, where Ralsei seems to realize after fighting the king that the party can't always spare everyone.

This is in pretty stark contrast to Undertale, where the fight/spare mechanic basically meant choosing between life and death for any character. The character you're fighting doesn't get any say in the matter in Undertale. In Deltarune, you (or, more accurately, Kris) don't have the power to kill someone. You can only beat them up badly enough that they choose not to join you. At some point in the later chapters, making someone not want to join you might be a better decision.

4. Berdly

If you just focus on the Queen, Berdly tries to remove it himself, damaging his arm in the process. When he wakes up in the light world later, he still can't move his arm.

In the first battle with Queen, Berdly is attached to one of her plugs. You can loosen it to free him, like you did with the Werepires.

You didn't hurt Berdly. But if you choose to ignore him to focus on finishing the fight instead, his own actions in response cause him to be hurt anyway.

5. Snowgrave

Kris doesn't seem to have the ability to kill. Neither does Susie or Ralsei.

But Noelle does.

It's important to note that the player doesn't have complete control over anyone in the party except Kris. At the start of chapter 1, Susie makes her own choices in battle. Even in chapter 2, you can't take equipment off her unless you're swapping in something else (she tells you "Hands off!" if you try). The characters can just straight up refuse to follow your/Kris' orders if they want.

If you command Noelle to brute force puzzles, to "get" the ring, to ice all the Darkners, she gets used to hurting others to feel stronger. Then she can use Snowgrave - the only action that specifies it is lethal - in the fight with Berdly. When you tell Noelle to use Snowgrave, she refuses several times. She even tells you that she "doesn't know a spell called Snowgrave" to get you to stop. If you keep badgering her, she finally snaps, and chooses to cast it.

The wildest part about the Snowgrave route, in my opinion, is that there doesn't even seem to be any reward for doing it. In Undertale, the whole appeal of the No Mercy route was the epic boss fights that couldn't be played on any other route. The reward was the challenge. In Snowgrave, you skip almost half of the story and multiple boss fights. And for what? A slightly harder version of a boss you can also fight on any other run?

You can manipulate Noelle into making a terrible choice and presumably killing Berdly, seemingly just for the hell of it. After you return to the light world, the only things that change in the story are that Berdly doesn't wake up and Noelle is scared out of her mind if she sees you wearing her watch. Susie still walks you home. Toriel still asks Susie to stay over. Kris still slashes the tires on Toriel's car and opens a new foundation. Nothing major changes.

All Snowgrave seems to do is get you to the same ending faster.

Deltarune is about choices, sure. But more accurately, it's about how your choices affect the people around you, and how that informs their choices, and so on.

So, what's more important than reaching the end? It's how you - and the characters - chose to get there. It's about the journey, not the destination.

#deltarune spoilers #deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #deltarune theory

[wonlouvre]

more for forever | k. mg.

pairing: editor-in-chief mingyu x female reader genre: fluff, a little bit of angst, cliché (in the sense that mingyu is rich and likes to spoil his girlfriend) warnings: mentions of insecurity, food word count: 2.8k

💌: this is just pure indulgence and i really hope you all like this! please wait for wonwoo because i have something in store for him too ;) again, this is cliché please forgive me. please tell me what you think about it hehe i love reading your comments, feedbacks and tags! also a big thank you to @minkwans​ for sharing their ideas and giving this oneshot life! <3

The name Kim Mingyu didn’t ring a bell before. Not until his executive assistant reached out to you because apparently, the photographer slash writer read one of your blog posts and wanted you to take part for their sixth year anniversary issue. You know the famous magazine and publishing company, which is why you thought it was a scam or a ploy to steal your money. It’s a stupid assumption but you can’t blame your mind imagining the worse because you are not a fashion blogger at all. Why would a fashion magazine want you to write an article for them?

Sure, you regularly write and post blog entries on your website. But you write about your dog, your recently bought tea coaster and sometimes your skincare routine. Okay, maybe your occasional outfit of the day as well but nothing in detail. Again, why do they want you to write for them?

Kim Mingyu answered your questions and uncertainties when he personally emailed his contact details to you. You didn’t have to bite, but it didn’t hurt to confirm at the same time. You dialed the number and he indeed proved you wrong. He invited you for a meeting at his office and you accepted. 

Your visits to high-rise buildings, much more to the luxurious office of an executive, is rare to never. You were jaw slacked when your eyes took in the crisp architecture. The design, the furniture, the color, the everything was beyond what you could have imagined a publishing company’s headquarters could be. 

The meeting was nothing but short of an interview. He asked about your blog (which does not even have its own domain by the way), he asked what else you write about, he asked about your desk job (which doesn’t pay much but enough for you to get by), he asked if you have any background about fashion and one last question about your dog, Max, before talking about his proposal. 

To be honest, Mingyu’s offer was tempting. For one article, the commission would be enough for you to move out of your current apartment and move to a brand new and fully-furnished one. But you remained true to yourself and without thinking twice, you declined. 

You can tell that the editor-in-chief and his assistant, who stood beside him all throughout, was surprised by the looks on their faces. But Mingyu respected your decision and didn’t pursue any further. You took your stand from the chair and sincerely thanked him for the time and opportunity. You thought that would be it but when he followed suit with your actions and reached his hand out, it was your turn to be surprised. 

You didn’t hesitate to mirror him and shake his hand, firmly. After that, you’d figure that it’s the end and that you’ll probably get to see a glimpse of him only through your television or phone. But Mingyu proved you wrong once again when he sent an unexpected email three days later asking why.

What might be the reason why you didn’t accept his offer? 

You believed he deserved an explanation of your personal reasons so you disclosed them. And just like that the conversation on that email thread naturally progressed and eventually deepened. The professional emails became casual text messages, the text messages became phone calls, and the phone calls became actual face to face dates at late hours of the evening because he usually clocks out at 9 o’clock. 

The rest, as they say, was in the hands of history. 

Your first date with Mingyu was particularly odd. It was at a traditional Korean restaurant owned by one of his friends who introduced himself as Angel even though his real name is Jeonghan. You didn’t question him or anyone else why because that’s none of your business. But back to the date. It was odd because you have never been to a restaurant that’s completely empty and dead silent before (aside of course, from the typical music played in the background). You asked Mingyu if such an occurrence is normal and he just plainly answered that he rented the whole place all to yourselves. You have always known he’s rich. However, you didn’t believe that booking the whole restaurant was necessary.  

Nonetheless, that first date, in some way, was special for you because there were no distractions. You enjoyed his company and you can tell he enjoyed yours too because he’s quick to mention a second date and it didn’t take a heartbeat for you to say yes. 

But, by far, Mingyu inviting you to the behind the scenes of the making of the sixth anniversary issue that you turned down writing for is one of the most memorable dates the two of you had. It was out of the blue and you two were having difficulty in syncing your schedules. He was beginning to get busier and busier as the anniversary neared and the only way he could think of still making time for you is inviting you to his office. He called you and asked if you’re free to have lunch together. And you, being attracted to the handsome and tall man, didn’t hesitate to say yes. 

He was in the middle of ending his morning meeting when you arrived and you were almost caught off-guard when all eyes were suddenly on you, making you feel small. But Mingyu didn't care as his smile beamed, immediately standing up from his chair to walk towards you. The rest of his staff were still in the midst of walking out of his office when he grasped your hand to pull you inside and you have never felt so shy your whole life.

Since then, he made you tag along to the creative process and you witnessed how hands on he was with every article, every photo, every brand, every trend and every detail that goes to the magazine that he has built and loved with his blood, sweat and tears. He’s beyond dedicated in finding and doing what’s best for the magazine and most importantly, its loyal readers. 

You can tell that he really is deserving of everything that he has and is still receiving.

Mingyu being perfect also applies to your relationship. He’s always present despite being booked with fittings, meetings, photoshoots and business travels twenty-nine days of the month. He never fails to call, never fails to answer your calls. He never fails to offer the warmest hugs and the softest kisses. Well, he fails to be on time during your dates sometimes but he never once stood you up and his cuddles when he sleeps over are enough to apologize for the lost time.

The only flaw he has is that he doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. Most especially at times where he wants to shower his love in ways that cost more than your paycheck in a year.

Here are some examples:

You know that Mingyu pays attention to every word you say. Even if you just mentioned a passing topic, he will do his best to keep those in mind. With that being said, you mentioned once that you want to renovate the extra bedroom of your apartment and turn it into a study where you could work someday. Your boyfriend, being the rich man he is, offered to hire and pay a team that could help you bring the design you envisioned into life. 

That was during the first few months of your relationship and you were flabbergasted by how easy it was for him to do or much less say. Needless to say, you immediately turned him down and he respected that (but of course, he pouted about it like a child all throughout the day). 

But wait, there’s more. 

Do you remember how you mentioned that Mingyu travels frequently? Yes? Well, Mingyu always books an extra ticket for you just in case you want to join him. Sometimes it’s not even about the flight ticket anymore. It’s about him stopping by your apartment to pick you up unexpectedly as if France is only a drive away. 

It’s unbelievable, really. That’s why you always close the door on his face. But of course, you don’t forget to give him a long kiss and “stay safe” or “I’ll miss you” farewell. Mingyu, ever the good boy he is, lets you win and just return your kisses a little longer for the days he won’t be able to do so. 

Mingyu’s intentions are pure and you’re well aware that the man that you love is only doing this because it’s simple, he loves you. He wants what’s best for you, he wants to give you what you deserve. You can never blame him for being out of touch from reality at times, but you can learn and grow with him. Although of course, he still needs a scolding and a wake up call every now and then. 

Anything else? Yes.

You didn’t take into consideration that he’d remember, but one night while the two of you were about to fall asleep, you sleepily mumbled about your dreams of attending graduate school. It was a mere whisper in the late night against his chest and you even thought that he wouldn’t hear you at all because his eyes were already closed. You honestly didn’t expect that he’d send you brochures of different universities who offer various programs the following day. You had to calm him down as he excitedly talked you through it. You even had to shut him up with your lips and explain that you don’t have the time to study at the moment with your current job. He tried to encourage you with praises and admiration of your dedication, skills and knowledge. But no, you didn’t buy it and that’s the end of discussion. 

The gifts, however, are something that Mingyu is not giving up on. The first few instances he gave you gifts whether it be a high-end handbag, shoes, clothing, and even jewelry, you allowed him. Because there were only a few. But along the way, the gifts got bigger and more frequent. You had to sit him down to set limitations. It was a long conversation of him trying to get the upper hand. But you didn’t let him outsmart you with his hugs and kisses. It was either he was going to tone it down with the gifts or no gifts at all. 

Sometimes, as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, you can’t avoid getting insecure and afraid that the euphoric time you share with Mingyu is not meant to last. At some point, the fact that he's one of the youngest successful editor-in-chiefs of a multi-million earning magazine got overwhelming. You can’t help but feel that you’re no match for him. And again, you hate that your mind gets clouded with ideas that you’re just a charity case he enjoys spending his money on. Of course, you believe that he doesn’t look at you in that way.

It’s you who thinks so. 

“Hey.”

You release the bite on your bottom lip at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. Your lost eyes shoot to the stove where he’s cooking and you notice that he’s about done so you should set the table. 

You didn’t even answer Mingyu’s call which concerns him. He wipes the sauce off his hands on the apron he’s wearing and holds your waist before you could even round the corner to the cabinets. 

His warmth snaps you out of your thoughts. Your eyes blink up to him and he just raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Is there something wrong?” He asks and lowers the heat of the conduction. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you lie, shaking your head, “Let me get the plates. I’m quite hungry.”

You try escaping his strong arms and gaze, but he doesn’t let you go. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist tighter. Your palms automatically land on his chest and the lean muscles make you gulp. 

“I’m going to ask again and this time, I want you to tell me the truth,” he says in a serious yet gentle tone. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh and lean your forehead against his chest. Mingyu also sighs and kisses the top of your head. It’s better to tell him now because you’re not going to get anywhere if you’re just going to keep it to yourself. It will be unfair for him too and that’s not what you want. 

“I just don’t feel so good about myself over the past few days,” you finally voice out. You sound weak, but Mingyu can hear you loud and clear. “I feel like I don’t deserve you.”

Mingyu had to pull away and hold your shoulders to search your eyes, his frown showing disbelief and sadness both at the same time. “Did I do or say something to make you feel this way?”

“No, no,” you quickly say and hold his cheeks. “You did absolutely nothing. It’s just all in my head.”

Mingyu becomes silent and you wish you could just drop it because the regret and embarrassment is slowly dawning upon you. You wish you didn’t bring it up anymore because why would you burden him with your problems? 

But Mingyu proves you wrong once again by holding your hand and carefully tugging you to sit on the dining table, saying softly, “Come on. Let’s talk about it.”

And talk you did. You let out your concerns, worries, fears and insecurities. You bore it all without hiding or masking anything. A tear or two slipped once or twice and some words were interrupted by your hiccups, but Mingyu was patient. He listened and held your hand, promising you that it’s okay. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to be worried. It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of him. It’s okay to trust him because he loves you. 

Mingyu loves you and his words and actions assure you that it’s okay to love him too. 

When there were no more words left to say, the two of you shared a comfortable silence. The weight on your shoulders and the sick feeling in your stomach immediately vanished and you have never felt so relieved. You have never felt so free and loved. You can’t believe that Kim Mingyu is real. 

“I know that this is unwarranted,” Mingyu breaks the silence after a while, “but I want you to know that I don’t think of you in any of those ways. To me, you’re the person I love and I am happy with regardless of our different upbringings, different jobs. Those don’t matter to the time and love we share together.”

“I know,” you affirm and kiss his cheek. 

Mingyu nods and smiles against the palm of your hand when a memory suddenly pops in his mind. “I’m not sure if I have told you this already. But the blog entry of yours that caught my attention is about your first ever blog post.”

Your eyes widen at his confession. You have never heard of this before. “You mean the one where I talked about why I love writing so much?”

Your boyfriend smiles and nods. “That one.”

“Gosh. That’s so embarrassing,” you groan and palm your face. 

“What do you mean embarrassing?” He argues, taking your hand to hold again. “That post was one of the most genuine posts that I have ever read. You explained, word by word, your passion, love and dedication to writing in the most honest way possible. Who wouldn’t be moved?”

You pout and unbeknownst to you, that makes his heart squeeze in adoration. 

“It’s not that special,” you mumble, eyes on your intertwined hands. 

“It is to me though.”

Mingyu’s eyes are dreamy and glossy as you meet them again and you could never be more in love. He holds your arms, coaxing you to stand up to straddle his lap. You giggle when he protectively wraps his arms around your waist. His nose scrunches when it grazes yours, but upon meeting his lips you feel it exhale a breath of relief.

You kissed and kissed and kissed. But when Max barks at the two of you, reminding you of the dinner you’re supposed to eat and share with him, the two of you burst into laughter before reluctantly detaching from each other. 

“You doting over me with material things is a perk,” you humor him and he gives you his signature giggle. “But, I wouldn’t trade sharing the same bed, cooking meals or taking care of Max together over any of those.” 

Mingyu nods gives you one last yet long kiss, a promise that there’s more for later. 

More for forever. 

---

a/n 2: this was supposed to be the header/poster of this story but it was too big lol

#seventeen #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen scenarios #mingyu scenarios #mingyu scenario #seventeen scenario #seventeen imagines #mingyu imagine #seventeen imagine #mingyu imagines #seventeen oneshot #mingyu oneshot #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fanfic #seventeen fluff #mingyu fluff #seventeen mingyu #mingu seventeen #svt #fic: mff

[ray-ray-writings]

UMM THIS

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMe24dvmM/

Im sorry I know you are packed and busy but can I make a request based on that video?? BECAUSE HOT DAM JUST WILBUR ENTERING LIKE

‘WHAT IS THIS I HEARD ABOUT HURTING Y/N AND TOMMY ‘

LOOK AT THAT VIDEO LOOK AT IT AND TELL ME YOU ARENT SIMPING TO THAT MAN

I simply cannot tell you that because it would be untrue because I am SIMPING so hard…. Also this was way longer and had a lot more plot than I originally planned so…. There’s that lol. Hope you enjoy. (P.S. Because it’s so long, this is going to be the only post tonight, my brain is a bit fried rn lol. Have a great night everyone!)

Warnings: Mentions of very quickly losing a lot of weight, it’s brief but it’s there. As well as, manipulation from Dream. At one point the reader is like “wow it’s been three days since you hit me… Thanks Dream!” And a few swear words here and there. 

Before Wilbur died, you and Wilbur were married. It absolutely broke your heart to watch the love of your life lose his mind (and then his life) for the nation that you and he created to raise and protect your boys in. But you stood by his side until the very end. You held his hand as he died and clutched his body with Phil once it was over. Ghostbur gave you somewhat of a shock. Because you’re husband was back, and he remembered you. He was the man you had married. The person he was before the presidency, before the war, before L’Manberg… You’re Wilbur was back. But you were still sad. You couldn’t hug him or kiss him like you were able to and although he seemed to be right in front of you, it felt like he couldn’t be farther away. Ghostbur can see this and decides that if he can, he really wants to try to come back to life. He tells his father and older brother about this and so they begin planning and researching. In doing this, they kind of accidentally turn a blind eye to what is happening to you and Tommy. 

While those three are figuring out how to bring Wilbur back from the dead, you and Tommy are being harassed by Dream. Something else you lost when you lost Wilbur was protection from Dream. For some reason, Dream was always afraid of Wilbur. Perhaps it was his ability to always stand up for what he wanted and fight for the things he loves… Or perhaps it was because he was Techno’s brother. Doesn’t matter. Point is when you lost Wilbur you lost the protection from Dream. Dream threatens you and Tommy, trying to provoke Tommy and trick him into doing stuff so that Dream could get him in trouble and one day it finally works. Dream tells Tommy where George’s vacation house is because he knows that Tommy cannot resist checking a place out and looking through other people’s stuff. So Tommy drags Ranboo over there and while they’re there they accidentally knock over a lantern and burn some of the house and some of the chests. On the other side of the server, Dream is in your home, poking fun at you for losing your husband and telling you that it was partially your fault and just stuff like that. You didn’t react. You never could when talking to Dream. But his words stung and slashed deep, and he knew it. Finally after a while of this, Tommy comes bursting through your front door, out of breath and seemingly panicked. “What’s the matter?” You ask softly, leaving your kitchen and going to comfort your boy. Tommy is about to spill everything but when he looks up he sees Dream and immediately swallows his words. “We were playing tag… That’s all… Tag” he says. You absolutely do not believe him but you catch his gaze and know that whatever he’s done he cannot say it in front of Dream. So you decide you’ll just have to wait…. You don’t have to wait long. 

“You burnt down George’s vacation home?” Dream’s deadly tone sounds from the kitchen. Your eyes widen and scan Tommy’s face and the look that overtakes him, you know it’s true. “I did not burn it down… I knocked over a lantern and a small fire broke out… I tried to repair everything, it’s fine.” Tommy insists. But Dream seems too pissed to listen to reason. “Come with me” he hisses, marching forward and snatching Tommy’s wrist tightly and marching out of the house. A small whimper left Tommy’s lips as he was pulled causing you to fly into a rage. “Let go of him!” you demand, chasing after them. Dream doesn’t listen and so you reach out and shove his shoulder causing him to stumble, let go of Tommy’s wrist and whip around to face you too. A chilling smile rests on his face, “Oh you just messed up big time.” Before you can react, he reaches out, grabs your wrist, grabs Tommy’s again and continues on down the Prime Path. You’d try to fight it but the grip on your wrist was just too strong. Dream pulls you to Tubbo and immediately jumps on the boy. He explains what happened as well as says that you assaulted him and that he wants you two exiled from L’Manberg or there will be hell to pay. Dream tells Tubbo he will start a war and will kill everyone and everything if his orders are not followed. You can tell Tubbo really doesn’t want to, but it’s something he has to do. Tubbo lets out a small sigh and nod, “Okay Dream. You win.” He murmurs, not looking at Tommy’s betrayed face. “Excellent choice, Mr. President,” the man spits out. “Tubbo” Tommy utters broken heartedly, staring at his best friend, silently begging him to say sike… It never comes. “Dream please escort Tommy and Y/N out of my country.” “With pleasure” You wrist is seized again and you’re being dragged away from your home. 

After you three get out of the SMP, Dream lets go of your wrists and lets you walk for yourself. You approach Tommy and wrap a comforting arm around him. “It’s going to be okay Tommy. Everything is going to be okay.” You comfort the young boy who sighs and nods, “I just can’t believe that he would throw me under the bus like that,” Tommy murmurs. “I know kiddo. I know.” You follow Dream for a very long time until he is satisfied that you are far enough away from the rest of the SMP. “Okay, we stop here… Put your stuff in this hole,” Dream commands, digging a small hole for the two of you to throw your stuff in. You let out a scoff and roll your eyes, “No way. You’ve already forced us into exile. There’s no way we’re giving you our stuff.” Dream’s face flushed a bright red before he lurched forward and grabbed you. Putting in a headlock to where you’re back was pressed against his chest, his arm around your throat while he has a crossbow to your head. “I’ve had enough of you fucking attitude Y/N. You have no power here. I do. I’m in charge and when I say to do something, you do it. If I ask you to jump, the only thing you may ask after that is “How high?” Do you understand?” You don’t speak, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of obedience. But then the tip of the arrow digs into the side of your head causing you to let out a small pained whimper, “I said, do you understand?” he demands again. “Yes” you finally whimper out. He moves the crossbow away from your skull and lets you go and shoves you forward, stumbling into Tommy who catches you and stabilizes you. “Put your stuff in the hole… Now” he growls, not in the mood for any more ‘games’. You and Tommy share a look and then a sigh and slowly put your things in the hole like he demanded. And you could only watch as he placed TNT above it and blew up everything. All of your items that you had worked hard for… Gone in a moment. Dream leaves with a cackle. You and Tommy are just there. Shocked. Finally, after a few moments, you’re able to shake yourself out of it. “Okay… Let’s get started, there’s no time to waste.” Tommy just looks at you and then he sighs and nods. “Let’s do it then.” The two of you spend the rest of the day gathering materials and building yourself a little shelter. You were all alone… At least you were all alone with your brother.

As we all know, Dream comes back almost every day. He comes back, blows up your stuff and leaves. The first time he came back you tried to stop him… It didn’t go well. “Dream, please he just-“ He cut off your words with a harsh slap across the face. It sends you flying and leaves your head spinning. “Haven’t you learned yet? Stuff. Hole. Now.” And you have no choice but to obey. You watch with a broken heart as Tommy slowly begins to actually trust Dream and believe him when he says that no one misses him. You do your best to be there for him and convince him that it’s not true but as days go by and no one, not even your Ghostbur, you can’t help but slowly believe that they’ve forgotten about you two. As time goes on, it seems that you and Tommy fade. You lose a lot of weight. Your food source is scarce and you have to do a lot of work because you’re restarting every. single. day. You get hurt a lot easier and it takes a lot more time to recover. Every once in a while, Dream will physically hurt you. Whether it a slap or a small sword slash, he does it just to make sure you still remember who’s in charge. You just learn to take it and deal with it. It hurts, but at least it’s you and not Tommy. Ranboo visits you once and is horrified at what he sees. He’s worried about you, but knows he can do basically nothing to help you. He makes a mental note to tell someone about it back in the SMP…. And even though he has memory problems, this is one thing he cannot forget. 

On the other side of the SMP, Philza, Techno, and Ghostbur have done it. They’ve cracked it. They have figured out how to bring Ghostbur back to life and to bring back Wilbur. The three make the plan and tell no one, especially not you. (Yeah…. They don’t even realize that you and Tommy aren’t around rn lol) They want to make sure this works before they tell anyone. So they do all the prep and the work and then they perform the ritual. They perform it in a cave somewhere just a little bit away from Techno’s house so that absolutely no one would know where they are or what they were doing. They begin just as nightfalls. Carefully completely each step and making sure they’re doing everything just right, knowing if they fuck up one small thing it’s over and they won’t be able to get Wilbur back. The three complete the final step and wait…. Nothing happens. “Fuck!” Techno curses, his eyes falling to the book, “We did everything right! It should have worked!” “Techno calm down, we’re all upset but at least we-” Philza doesn’t get to finish. All of the sudden a bright light floods the room. The light? It’s coming from Ghostbur. “Uhh guys?” the ghost questions in fear as he is levitated off the ground. Philza and Techno cannot look at him for fear of going blind. Ghostbur is unsure of what is happening but then the shredding pain fills his body. A scream rips from his throat as his whole form begins to physicalize. The skin begins to become real as the bones, blood, organs, and all other internal body parts forms. All memories that Ghostbur had forgotten flood Wilbur’s mind as his whole life flashes before his eyes, reminding him of everything. It only lasts a few moments more before the light fades and Wilbur is dropped from the air. His body hits the ground with an extremely harsh thump. He feels the impact and lets out a groan. His whole body is sore… But he’s there. He’s real and most importantly he’s alive. “Wilbur?” Philza asks hesitantly. Wilbur lets out another groan. The two standing men share a look before rushing to his side. They kneel beside him and gently reach out. Don’t tell anyone but tears threaten to fall from both men’s eyes, Philza and Techno’s, as their hands actually are able to touch Wilbur and they don’t go through him as if he were a ghost. They gently help him from his side to laying on his back. At the movement, Wilbur opens his eyes and is met with the tear laced ones of two of his family members. “Hey guys” he manages to croak out, “how’s it going” “Wilbur” Philza breaks, a tear streaming down his cheek before he lurches forward and wraps the boy into a warm hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” the older man sobs to his son. “Shhhh,” Wilbur calms his father, “It’s okay Dadza. I wanted it. You did what you had to do. It’s okay.” To the two’s surprise’s Techno’s buff arms wrap around the two and join in the hug. “It’s uhhh… it’s good to see you Wilbur” Techno grumbles, not really liking the emotion that had built up in his chest. Wilbur let out a soft laugh, “Good to see you too Tech.” 

The sweet moment is broken by someone calling Techno’s name a little ways away from the cave. At first, they elect to ignore it, but then the voice calls again, this time for Philza and they can tell now that whoever it is, is panicking. So the two help Wilbur up and gently help him out of the cave. They look out over the snow and find Ranboo there, standing on Techno’s front porch. “Ranboo!” Techno calls out causing the tall boy to turn around and then run at them. “Techno! Phil!.... Is that Wilbur? Like actual real Wilbur? He’s alive?” Ranboo asks, his tone still slightly panicked. “Yes Ranboo… It’s a long story but to sum it up we managed to bring Wilbur back to life… Now why are you here and why are you panicked.” Ranboo’s eyes shift back to Wilbur and gulps, “I knew you weren’t going to like this… But now you’re really not going to like this… Dream is hurting Y/N and Tommy…” All three, especially Wilbur, snap to attention at that. “What?” Wilbur asks harshly. Ranboo gulps and nods before diving into his story. He tells them about your exile and how Dream has been treating you two, blowing up your stuff and even physically harming Y/N. He tells them that Dream has the two convinced that nobody cares about them anymore. The three go stiff at that. Have they all been so focused they really missed all of this? Well time to go right some wrongs. It is almost as if all ache and tiredness left Wilbur’s body at the thought of his spouse being hurt, especially at the hands of Dream. He straightens up and takes a few steps toward Ranboo, “Take them to us” he speaks, his tone pretty damn dark. Ranboo nods and quickly turns around and leads the three men back to the exile spot. 

Back in exile, you and Tommy built a house… Logsted! It wasn’t exactly your taste, but it made Tommy happy so you lived in it together. You had woken up, actually feeling kind of good. The bruises and nicks on your face had slowly begun to heal and Dream hadn’t hit you in the past three days. You had a nice dinner last night, you and Tommy had found some chickens and made a small chicken farm a little ways away from the house so that way Dream couldn’t easily find it, but point is you had chicken for dinner… that’s what I was getting at… I’ll move on. So long story short, you were feeling good. The sun had risen and so Tommy and you were just kind of waiting for Dream to show up so you could get the daily blowing up over with. And like clockwork, he shows up, but for some reason he’s angry. For the past couple days he’d actually be pleasant to be around, greeting you asking you how you’ve been. But today was different. He slammed the door open and begins digging a hole in the middle of Logstedshire… That’s really weird. He was going to blow up the stuff inside the house? No way. But he points to the hole and you know he wants you to dump your items in. You move to the hole but don’t throw your stuff in, “Inside the house? Can we please go outside, I don’t want to ruin our hard work” wrong thing to say. A growl escapes Dream’s lips as he reaches forward and slaps you hard across the face, harder than he’s ever slapped you. It is enough to make you dizzy, but you don’t even have time to recover because his hand is in your hair, yanking it back forcing you to look at him. “You stupid bitch. You would think that after all this time, you would have learned by now… I mean you were doing so so well. But it just seems that you never learn your lesson… Guess I’ll have to teach you yet again.” And he pulls out his sword and points it at your stomach, ready to slice you again. Just as he’s about to harm you, the door swings open again and someone stumbles in. They lean against the doorframe with their hand grabbing the top of the frame. You can hear Tommy let out a gasp and you watch Dream’s eyes widen in fear. “So Dream,” an all too familiar voice calls, “What’s this about hurting Y/N and Tommy now?” And then you’re let go by Dream. You crash to the ground, fall flat on your ass, but you manage to scramble to a stand as you stare at the door frame in complete... Shock? Amazement? Fear? You can’t tell. You’re husband, Wilbur, is standing there in the flesh. Literally in the flesh. He’s alive again and you cannot believe it. “Wilbur” Dream stutters out, “You’re alive? How-” “That doesn’t matter, Dream. What matters is the fact that you’ve been hurting Y/N and Tommy… We can’t have that. So now what is going to happen is I’m going to take my family back to L’Manberg and you are never going to hurt them again,” Wilbur announces, moving ever so slightly further into the room. Seeming to have recovered just a bit from shock, Dream actually retorts, “Or what?”. Two more people enter the house and it causes Dream to blanch even further. “I think you know what… now run along.” Not wanting to risk it, Dream takes off running. 

Once you’re sure he’s gone, you allow yourself to speak. “Wilbur?” You whisper out, still not sure if this is real or if you’re dreaming. Wilbur’s attention shifts to you and he completely soften. “Hello,” he greets with a soft smile on his face, taking a few steps toward you, “Have you missed me?” Deciding you don’t care if he’s real or not, you rush forward and throw yourself into his arms. You, like Philza and Techno, almost cry at the feeling of your body’s connecting. He’s here. He’s real. And he’s alive. His arms wrap around you and hold you to him so tightly, you almost can’t breathe. But you don’t care. You’re hugging your husband. You’re actually hugging your husband. “I missed you so much, Wilby. I mean we had Ghostbur but it wasn’t the same. I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulders, the tears slowly falling out of your eyes. His hand comes up and slowly pets your head, in silent comfort and reassurance. 

After a few minutes you pull away slightly, “How are you-” You’re cut off by his lips pressing against your and you cannot help but melt. It has been months since his passing and this was just the absolute best feeling in the world. You kiss back with so much passion it makes your head spin, this time in a good way. It’s also probably the only time ever his brother’s didn’t fake vomit at the sight of you kissing. You only pull back to catch a breath, but right as you breathe in, Wilbur’s lips are back on yours. The process repeats a few times, before you manage to breathe out a “Will,” causing him to pull back, but leaving his forehead resting on yours and his lips just hovering above yours. “Yes my love,” he mumbles to you. “Can we go home please” you ask, not wanting to be here at Logstedshire any longer. He gives you a warn grin, leaning the inch forward and kissing you once more before giving his answer. “Of course my love. Let’s get out of here.” 

#mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt drabble #wilbur soot #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot drabble #philza #technoblade #tommyinnit #ranboo #dream #tubbo #ray responds #our beloved alex8o

[maraudereestauderelb]

Touched

A Duff McKagan smut One Shot

Prompt: You go to a concert with one of your friends and band mates, who's having a thing with no other than the band's guitarist Slash. After the show you get to meet Duff McKagen and somehow end up having your first time with him.

MASTERLIST

Warning: sex (duh)

"They're good aren't they?", Y/F/N shouted over the loud music. "Amazing!" "Told ya!"

We were dancing along to the loud music and enjoying ourselves. It had taken her quite some time to convince me to come with her instead of heading for the Troubadour with our other two band mates. Apparently coming with my bassist had been the right choice though.

After a world tour, a successful album and quite a bit more money in my bank account than before we had left LA, I still felt more at home right here. In a rundown club on the strip with a still upcoming rock band on stage.

Y/F/N and I had fit in perfectly. Nobody would recognize just the two of us having a great time and getting drunk. Except maybe the group of aspiring musicians and rising rock bands of the strip. In this circle everyone knew everyone, knew in which bands they had played, who they were associated with, had partied together before and so on and so forth.

That was exactly the reason why we had ended up here. The lead guitarist used to play in a band called Road Crew and had surely attended one of the parties at our trailer before. Y/F/N knew him and she had told me he was in a new band that was very close on getting a record deal. "You gotta check them out! Heard they're fuckin good", had been the argument that had won me over in the end. Not so much her initial reason to come here. That being the fact that apparently the guy had been an awesome fuck and she wanted to get laid by him again.

Now being here, I didn't regret it. I was having fun! And I was back in my usual habitat and in a situation that was familiar. If after the concert she wanted to leave with her black haired curly-head she was free to do so. Either I'd bump into someone I knew or would simply head home and call it a night.

The singer seemed familiar as well and if I remembered correctly Nikki had left his ass outside at one of their parties.

"Yo, what's the lead singer's name again?", I asked Y/F/N. "Oh that's Axl. Hollywood Rose, remember?" "Oh yea, right!"

I got why those boys were apparently very close to making it. Shit, was Guns n' Rosesgood!

Y/F/N had successfully gotten us all the way through the crowd to the stage, where we danced and sang along some more until the band was finished.

A few moments after the last song had ended the club put on some generic rock music and blasted them through the speakers.

"You gonna head backstage or wait here?" This wasn't the type of club in which the band would go off stage and head backstage never to be seen again. They had a small room for all of them to change and would then most likely come out to party. I knew, because we had played here before.

"He saw me, so trust me, he's gonna come to me", she grinned, and I once again admired her confidence.

It didn't take too long before Slash really showed up. He greeted me as well and congratulated on our album, so I told him what a sick guitar player he is. I give credit where it's due.

But I also understood that it was probably best for me to piss off now. So that's what I did. I figured I'd get one last drink and keep my eyes open in case of seeing anybody I knew. And for real I spotted a few people I knew from college who quickly waved me over.

After telling them the generic shit everybody wanted to know coming back from tour, it actually turned into a lot of fun to party with them. No coke but sure as hell a lot of alcohol.

It was hours later when they decided to leave and I had actually planned to leave with them

when I spotted a barkeeper, I knew. He had also attended a bunch of our parties and was a cool guy. So I sat down at the bar and joked around with him some more as the club kept getting emptier.

The club surely was anything but empty at one point, neither was it packed. It wasn't so crowded anymore, and I had completely lost track of time when someone sat down on the barstool next to me.

I didn't pay much attention and simply took another sip from my vodka lemon until he said: "You know, your friend's already gone, right?"

I turned to face him and recognized him as one of Slash's band members, right after I had been speechless for a moment because of how handsome he was.

"Yea, I know", I nodded and added grinning: "So is your guitarist, right?" "Obviously", he answered laughing: "Should've seen him backstage after the concert, couldn't get to her fast enough!" I joined his laughter, finished my drink and looked around. "Your remaining band member's left with a groupie as well, huh?" "No, fuckin idea where they are", he smiled and waved over to Jimmy, the barkeeper: "Another one of these for the little Rockstar here and I take whatever she has."

"Thank you", I told him with a soft smile. He waved it off: "I'm Duff McKagan by the way." "Y/N Y/L/N", I replied. "I know, was at one of your trailer parties before ya guys became famous." "Oh were you?", I asked surprised. I would've bet I'd recognize such a pretty face. Blond, tall, bassist. I was in fuckin heaven.

"You then ones with the trailer with the IV in the living room, right?" "Yupp, that's us", I nodded with a smirk: "Then I'm sorry for not recognizing you..."

"Don't worry bout it", he smiled: "Doubt we got the chance to talk...not that I wouldn't have wanted to..."

"We should have! Then I probably would've listened to you guys sooner! And Oh. My. God. You're amazing!", I gushed excitedly. "Thanks! Hoping it'll get us where you are now." "You'd have to be a complete idiot not to fuckin sign you!"

"I fucking hope so", he sighed and took a big gulp from his vodka: "You the song writer, right?" He suddenly changed the topic.

"Yes, why?" "I dunno", he shrugged: "When I first saw your music video on TV I couldn't help but fuckin wonder what complete asshole hurt this beautiful girl..."

His words hit me like a fucking train, because they reminded me of my former best friend Nikki Sixx, whom I had been stupid enough to fall for, but soon my drunken brain focused on something else: He thought I was beautiful...

"An asshole that's no longer a problem", I laughed. "Well cheers to that", the blond guy smirked and clicked our glasses: "Lucky me."

I returned his smirk and soon felt his hand on my thigh.

"How come you didn't leave with a groupie?", I tease him and sip on my glass. "Not my thing..." "What an utter liar", I thought. "And also", he went on: "I saw you in the crowd dancing next to your friend and knew exactly who to go for."

The way he looked into my eyes send chills through my body and I quickly took another sip from my drink.

"You alright?", Jimmy asked from further away to make sure I was fine, and I quickly nodded.

"You're pretty confident, huh?", I asked Duff. "Why?" "Well, what if that one girl you decided to go for wasn't interested?", I teased him.

Was I interested? I mean...damn he was hot and watching him on stage had been hot! His touch on my thigh made me feel hot! But for fuck's sake I didn't knowhim!

"That would be pretty sad for both of us", he shrugged and winked at me before looking at his glass and away from me.

Was he right? God, I could already feel the heat inside of me rising and a quiet voice in the back of my head reminded me that I had seen him shirtless on stage and wondered what it would feel like to touch him.

But damn it, I was drunk!

He lit a cigarette and I gave my everything not to stare at his lips for longer.

"I liked you better when you were funny and not seductive", I shrugged as well with a smirk and made him laugh. "Ouch, thanks!", he replied smiling: "In that case you'd have loved to see me lookin like an idiot when I got to Slash and your friend hours ago just to realize your gone."

"Maybe you should've hurried more, you know, the way your friend Slash did", I teased him more and calmed my nerves.

"He's just a funny guy", I told myself: "Joke around with him some more and then get your ass back home."

"Well, in the end you waited here for me anyway." "Rockstars don't wait for anyone", I joked and took the cigarette from him to take a drag as well. I could tell he was staring at my lips this time but was ripped out of his thoughts when I handed it back.

He cleared his throat and said: "Always wanted to fuck a rockstar."

I almost choked on my drink. That was my sign. The cards were on the table. I should tell him that this certainly wouldn't be the night he'd get what he wants and leave! But I was curious... so damn curious...

I couldn't deny that I was attracted to him! Maybe I could at least make out with him...find out what his lips felt like...there was nothing wrong about that.

"That's what the girls always tell you?", I tried to mock him but was too nervous to sound convincing. "You're quite a joker, huh?" "At least tryin to..."

"It's cute", he admitted. "Good, because I never run out of stupid jokes..."

"Trust me, I'd know a way or two to shut you up", he grinned to himself and took a last drag before he stubbed the cigarette out.

God, his words went straight to my core and put pictures in my head I hated but at the same time desperately wanted to happen. I wanted to find out what he wanted to do!

"Ya know what I always wanted to find out?", I asked without thinking about it twice. "What is it, gorgeous?" "If it's true that bass players don't just have skilled fingers when it comes to playin instruments."

I cracked the joke before I had thought about it. Why? Because I always had to listen to idiots tell me that and because I somehow really wanted to find out.

His smirk grew winder than I had seen it all night and it made me knees weak. "I can definitely show ya that."

"How about you first make me shut up?"

I had barely finished my sentence before I felt his free hand in my neck and soon enough his lips on mine.

I felt like melting right then and there! His lips moving against mine felt so good! But what started as a rather innocent kiss quickly became more heated. I grabbed the hem of his leather jacket, not to pull him closer but because I needed to hold on to something, anything."

His lips were moving against mine before he gently captured my lower lip with his. It was hard not too moan on the spot! And even harder when I tasted his tongue.

I damned those stupid barstools! I wanted him closer, needed him closer.

When we finally separated again my entire body was totally antsy!

"Speechless?", he asked teasingly. God, he was so damn hot!

I tried to think of something witty and fun, but I couldn't summon a single proper thought.

"You know...to prove the other thing we should probably move this somewhere more private...", he whispered into my ear and hadn't goose pumps already covered my entire body they definitely would have after he seductively kissed my neck.

I should tell him no. I should move my fucking ass back home.

But when he leaned back again and all I could think about was how I buried my fingers in his blond hair, I just nodded...

He had his arm around my waist when he let me out of the club and down strip. It was still dark and it wasn't hard to tell that there were still a bunch of parties going on in other places as well. Like I said, I had long lost my sense for time.

"My place ain't far from here", he told me and I nodded. Excitement was bubbling inside of me and gosh, I couldn't wait to kiss him again!

All worries and negative thoughts had been long gone as we walked through the cold night. I kept looking at him from the side and tried to hide the excited smirk on my lips. But

damn, he was even taller than I had guessed and looked so handsome in the dim glow of the streetlights.

I didn't know what to say. Where words needed?

I realized how he eyed me as well and a smug smile appeared on his lips. Shit, I wanted him. I had never felt this need for someone before, but I had also never allowed myself to get this carried away.

I bit my lower lip and tried to clear my thoughts but that attempt was quickly thrown completely over board when he suddenly pressed my back against the closest wall and kissed me. The kiss almost took my breath away.

Here I was standing on the strip with my back against the wall of some club and making out with a complete stranger. And it felt so right.

"Duff", I whimpered against his lips in a needy tone. "We should probably keep going, huh?", he smirked a little out of breath himself. "Except you consider this somewhere more private", I said with a grin on my lips but felt how he led me on with his arm around my hips once again.

"Wouldn't mind", he shrugged and lit another cigarette: "But I wanna take my time with you."

I swallowed hard and accepted the cigarette he wanted to share with me.

The next five minutes of us walking passed mainly without much talking but then I found myself in his one-bedroom apartment.

Alone with him now I felt the nervousness set back in.

So this was how it's gonna be?

"You want somethin to drink or anything?", he asked from behind me and I shook my head. Soon I felt him against my back with his arms around my body and his lips on my neck and shoulder.

I suppressed the low moan that had wanted to escape my lips and simply leaned back against him.

He had soon gripped the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. A shiver ran through me but his warm hands that travelled my body soothed me and quickly found the clasp of my bra and opened it.

He was still kissing my neck when he whispered: "Turn around to me." I obeyed immediately.

The sight of my bare breasts exposed before him made him fight to contain his arousal as he hardened in his boxers. He lowered his head and wrapped his lips around my nipple. He sucked gently and I failed to find something to hold onto.

It was weird to be almost naked in front of him while he was still fully dressed, at the same time it made me feel excited.

"Get on the bed, I got something to prove", the blond haired told me smirking and I nodded. I tried not to run to the bed and could barely believe how caught up in the moment I was. My entire mind was foggy!

I watched him take off his leather jacket before he walked over to me and moved my thighs apart so he could lay down between them.

I could feel him hard against my center through our clothes but before the nervousness consumed me he had his lips on mine again and consumed my senses instead.

His body was pressed against mine and he traced his fingers down my body. He stroked over my thighs and spread them even more before moving to my panties.

Through the fabric he pressed his hand against me and gently rubbed me. A soft moan left my lips and I stirred underneath him and spread my legs further. Duff smirked against my breats and took my nipple in his mouth again as he began to rub me through my panties. His fingers ran over my slit as heat began to pool and I whimpered.

"Duff", I moaned softly.

He pulled away from my titts and brought his lips to mine while his fingers rubbed at my clit.

My eyes were closed, and I was lost in the moment, but I managed to bring my hand to his head and tangled my fingers in his blond, long hair. My lips parted as another soft moan left them and Duff pushed his tongue inside my mouth, massaging my tongue with his own.

His fingers were moving in circles over my clit and I whimpered against his lips as my panties became more soaked with each move he made.

I moaned and writhed on the bed as his hand travelled beneath my panties. Both of us moaned as he ran his middle finger between my folds, feeling how wet I was.

I whined his name again and lifted my hips to meet his hand.

He pushed his erection against my thigh and instinctively I reached down and stroked him through his pants.

"God you’re so wet for me", he growled in in my ear.

I bit my lip and raised my hips when suddenly he pulled away from me.

He knelt on the bed and smirked at me before ripping my panties down my thighs and tossing them to the floor.

My heart felt like it was about to pump out of my fucking chest.

He moved between my legs and crashed his lips against mine.

His fingers made their way back to my core and he pushed his middle finger inside me with ease, making me gasp.

"You want me to fuck you?", he pulled his finger out teasingly slow.

I bit your lip and without thinking I nodded as he pushed his finger back in.

He added a second finger, stretching me slowly: "But not yet."

He pulled his fingers away and I whined at the emptiness. But before I could protest Duff spread my legs apart and laid between them.

He ran the flat of his tongue along my slit, making me gasp and clutch at the sheets.

His tongue ran over my clit in two slow strokes.

I quickly covered my mouth with my hand and let out a moan.

His tongue ran over my clit in slow circles and he reached his hands up to squeeze my breasts. When he sucked at my clit I let out another moan into my hand and Duff pulled away.

"Oh No, baby", he told me and moved my hand from my mouth: "I wanna hear you."

I bit my lip and watched as he went back to his slow licks and his eyes never left mine as he ran his tongue over me. I felt like I was burning.

I squeezed my eyes shut and reached down, wrapping my fingers in his blond hair and raised my hips to meet him. He pulled back, only slightly and ran his fingers over my slit. He let out a growl as he watched, pushing two fingers into your throbbing pussy.

"Duff", I gasped and already felt extremely full. "Don't panic", I told myself and threw all worries away when he began to pump his fingers in and out of me, slowly at first before he increased his speed.

"You like that, baby girl?"

I moaned in response and he stopped his movements. He sucked at my clit and the change in pleasure made me squirm.

I whined and lifted my hips to meet the strokes of his tongue.

He moaned against me and the vibrations sent pleasure soaring through my veins. He began pumping his fingers once more, curling them against my wall and rubbing against my gspot.

I writhed on the bed, clutching at the sheets because of the amount of pleasure.

"Fuck..."

"You gonna cum for me doll?", he growled against me.

I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip as my orgasm coursed through me. MY walls clenched around his skilled fingers and his tongue didn’t stop running over your clit, making my legs tremble.

When my orgasm started to slow down he got up and took his clothes off, throwing them anywhere. Before he sat back down between my thighs, I watched him put on a condom through barely open eyelids.

Without a warning and therefor without giving me the time to over think this he plunged his cock into me. I gasped at his size and raked my nails down his back.

The pain was sharp and unknown.

"God you feel so good baby."

He crashed his lips against mine, stifling my moan as he pulled out of me slowly.

"So tight." He pushed into me again. I was frowning and pushed my eyes closed as I was trying to adjust to him. Fuck, he felt so good at the same time this hurt so bad but in the best way possible.

I moaned and ran my hands over his back as he set a pace with deep and slow thrusts. He wanted me to feel every inch of him entering me and he lost himself in the little whimpers I made as he pushed into me. After a few more thrusts when the pain was starting to die down, he pulled out of me and knelt on the bed.

"Rollover", he ordered.

I bit my lip and obeyed, kneeling in front of him on all fours. Duff let out a breath as he looked at my ass.

I felt him run his cock over my center before he pushed into me once more.

"Duff...", I hissed.

His change of angle set a whole new sense of pleasure and he set a faster pace. It hurt but felt so good... His cock slammed into me and I collapsed against the mattress, falling onto my elbows, arching my back more in doing so.

He brought his hand down swiftly, slapping my ass and making me gasp.

Duff gripped my hips and I moaned between breaths as he picked up a fast and hard pace, slamming into me hard and fast. He leaned forward and pulled my hair into a ponytail, his thrusts never slowing down. With a gentle tug at my hair he pulled me back onto all fours and with his spare hand he reached under me.

His fingers found my clit and he rubbed clumsy circles. I bit my lip, trying to contain my moans and arched my back. He leant over me, his breath on my shoulder and hearing his staggered breathing sent me into overdrive. He released his grip in my hair only to wrap his hand around your throat gently and pull me back enough so he could turn my head around to kiss him. Just what I needed.

"You gonna cum for me?"

I attempted to nod, which proved difficult with his grip on my throat. He didn't wait for an answer though and rubbed his fingers over my clit faster.

"Cum for me, babygirl."

I lost all control, my eyes rolling back as the waves of pleasure rolled through me, sending shivers all over my skin. His pace was sloppy now and I knew he was almost ready as well. He slowly pulled away and turned on his back so I knelt down on wobbly legs. I removed the condom and licked along his throbbing cock and he let out a low moan. I took him as deep as I could and began to suck him off until he grasped his cock and pumped it a few times before coming in my mouth.

I swallowed his load and his deep moans send a few last chills through me.

Both of us collapsed against the sheets, a sheer layer of sweat covering my skin as I tried to catch my breath.

"Shit that was good", he exhaled and placed a lazy kiss on my shoulder. "Yes, it was", I thought and grinned to myself, trying to process what had happened.

#guns n roses #smut #duff mckagan #duff mckagan imagine #duff mckagan smut #duff mckagan x reader

[starshipsofstarlord]

The Sheriff and the Murderer

Part Three

Previous Parts | Part One | Part Two

Series Masterlist

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Summary | one of the many things that you had never had the chance of doing was disposing of a body; luckily for you, you know just the right person who can tend to your aid.

Warnings | mentions of death, disposing of a body, mentions and aftermath of murder, mentions of rape, mentions of sex, swearing, mention of suicide

The smell of the carcass had your nose turning up, and the sight wasn’t much better. There was blood staining your lovely dress, that Lee had taken off hours prior. Now it was ruined, with the red digress of your husband; he always had to taint everything, and it still appeared to apply despite him being deceased.

Your eyes wallowed with water, as you thought of the mistakes you had made. There were so many, and marrying Simon had been of the greatest, considering that his treatment of you had been beyond disgraceful. And now, the red of his departed insides was sticking beneath his nails, causing you to gag.

This part, the slashing and ripping apart of his limbs, using your trusty shovel, had been worse than actually committing the initial crime. Killing him had been bliss, but this, reminded you of the possible consequences that you would be forced to partake in.

“Oh no.” You heaved, feeling nauseous from the pungent aroma, grasping at the top of your chest in sickness. You dropped his hand, that felt ironically lighter now that he was dead, letting it fall with the other parts of his distorted, and broken, body.

The worst part of all was, now that you had control of where his palms were permitted to go, and the power had you feeling complete. It had you basking in your own glory, but now, you were lost, grieving the path that you had lost regarding the man that you truly were infatuated with.

Walking backwards, and closing the shed door, you abandoned the sections of Simon, hurrying back into your empty home, and going towards your lined phone. Without caring about the prints of blood that you were padding onto the numerical keys, you dialled a woman that you knew to be in the business of cold body abandon.

For a minute, the line rang, leaving you antsy and picking at your stained nails, chipping away at the surrounding skin. All you could smell was the reminder of blood, that smothered you in a hermit of remembrance.

A remembrance of the times that he would splatter your body with his self, claiming that you were his wife, and even bragging about it to the fellas that he worked closely with. But you were nothing more than a shadow in his eyes, a prize that followed him around the house, flaunting her terrified doe eyes at his silhouette.

His greatest flaw was, aside from his poisonous and lingering touch, that smothered you in the cruelest of ways, was that he thought he was aware of everything that went on around him. It was as though he thought he were the sheriff...

But behind his turned back, your shadow would dance with the image of Lee Bodecker, in a private and disclosed matter. He was the true sheriff of the town, the wine who could order you to do anything, and you would wilfully comply.

Lee had, and never would hurt you. That was the definite difference between the polar pair. He was a lovely gentleman, and Simon, well, he was more like a rat swimming out of the sewer.

All these thoughts and actions of adultery were fair play, you slept with Lee behind the now scathed and chopped up back of your husband, whilst he bedded as many women that were actually willing to slumber with.

You were not dumb to his pattern, each night when he went out, he was pursuing a dame, but that never bothered you, because while he was out, the sheriff would make a stop, and check you over, in more ways than one.

Finally, you running with your thoughts was disrupted, for the ringing ceased. A upbeat and facade of a ‘hello’ rang though your ears, making you breathe a much deserved intake of relief.

“Hey Sandy.” You replied, holding the phone aggressively against your ear. Anything she had to say, you were willing to listen to, after all, she was a master in the ways of murder, as you knew and were trusted peculiarly with that detail of secrecy. “I need your help.”

The sound of Simon’s body parts beating around the trunk as sandy surpassed over a bump in the road reverberated through the entire vehicle. It soothed the initial silence that was exhibited in it, and nervously, you licked your thin lips, hoping that you would reach the ‘middle of nowhere’ soon.

It wasn’t that you and Sandy didn’t get along, in fact, you got along great, which was one of the reasons that she insisted to husband Carl that they leave you alive. But it was the fact that there was an unspoken gesture that waded through the air, like a muting toxin.

“Does Lee know?” She asked, finally breaking the silence like ice. It was a relief to hear voice, deep down, you were insecure that she was silently judging you for the entire ride, or at least, how far you had gone so far.

“No, and I intend for it to have a cap kept on it.” You slunk your shoulders, whilst thinking of Sandy’s sibling. He was far too good for you, he was the sheriff, and now, you deemed yourself as nothing more than a murderer.

The fact that you were a survivor of all sorts of horrid extremes wouldn’t matter to the boys in blue, they would not see you past your crime, and you feared that sheriff Bodecker would not either.

“Son of a bitch had it coming to him anyways.” Stated Sandy, being heartless to her admission. “The sight of you and that prick drove my brother insane. We all knew what he was doing to you, yet, they wouldn’t charge him, all because you were simply married to him.”

“What would you have done if Carl had dared lay his hands on you in an in-consensual manner?” You asked, plucking away at the trim of your clean skirt. Before you had left to go on this joyous trip with Sandy, you had changed, all in favour of the neighbours, and anyone else you happened to pass.

“I’d have done the same darling.” She comforted you, looking away from the road for a moment, to send you a quick and sincere smile. Things within the car were falling into their previous rhythm, it being apparent that the two of you were good and well adversed friends. “I wanted to kill Simon too, you know? But with the threats I have made in the past, it would have been far too suspicious.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, suddenly feeling guilty that if it were found to be known that Simon was butchered, Sandy would be interrogated, most likely from her own brother. “How is Carl?” You changed the subject, shifting under the grip of the seat belt.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you how my lovesick brother is?” She replied, laughing lightly at your warm face. “He’s still head over heels for you girl, and yet, the other man won your heart.”

“I wouldn’t say won it, I’d say he manipulated it.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest to pave down the swell of tension inside. “I’d always told myself, and you, that I’d choose Lee Lee, but high school was a long time ago, and I can’t go back to sneaking kisses with him under the bleachers when your back was turned.”

“Trust me, I knew all along.” She smiled, thinking back to the simpler times. “And though, I know when he was training to be a deputy, he’d told you he had no time for a relationship, and he didn’t exactly expect you to wait for him. But you may as well have, considering the two of you continued to fornicate like wild rabbits.”

“Please stop.” You groaned at her words, covering your face with your clear and evidence free hands. “And we did not fornicate like-“

“My bedroom was right beside yours when we got that apartment, and before then, well it was against Lee’s. Trust me, when I say that I know off by heart how you sound in bed sweetie. And god, did I grimace as I heard you mewling my brother’s name.”

Breathily you laughed, thinking back to the times that were spoke of. “Sandy.” You spoke her name, earning a radical hum in reply. “I love Lee.”

“Trust me darling, I am well aware of that. The two of you are like Romeo and Juliet, except you’ve killed someone else rather than taken your own life. And then, there’s never been anything holding the two of you apart-“

“Okay, you’re trying to make a point here Sand. Nothing like Romeo and Juliet, I got it.” You nodded your head, before leaning it back into the plumpness of the head rest. “And then there’s you and Carl, Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Sweetie, you’re a killer too now, so I wouldn’t make comparisons. You’re just lucky that the first suspect for Simon’s disappearance will be a man, and then we’ll see where I am on that list. And you know me, I will always protect you, it’s what we do.”

“It is what we do.” You repeated, watching the road ahead, and tapping your feet in tune with the floundering of Simon’s own rolling feet.

Tags;

@charmed-asylum @brynthebulldozer @tcc-gizmachine @stucky-my-ship @acciosiriusblack

#lee bodecker fanfiction #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker #imagines #imagine #xreader #tdatt fanfiction #tdatt fic #tdatt imagine #tdatt x reader #sebastian x y/n #lee imagines #lee x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader

[duffs-shot-glass]

Forget Him *PART ONE* (Izzy Stradlin)

Forget Him Part Two

Izzy Stradlin x Reader

Sad fluff (not really much fluff in this part)

WARNINGS: profanities, abusive relationship, physical abuse, mental abuse

Word Count: 1,758

PART ONE

Y/N’s POV:

I was sitting in the living room of Izzy’s apartment, hanging out with the boys. And my boyfriend, Greg. If I was being honest I hated hanging out with greg. He made me uncomfortable constantly. In the beginning of our relationship he was really sweet. He spent time with me on the weekends, told me how important I was to him, and sometimes spoiled me a bit. Material things don’t mean a lot to me but I still thought it was kind of him. At first he really was the perfect boyfriend. Then it all went downhill.

I still remember the first night that started it all.

~flashback~

Greg and I were sitting in my apartment watching tv and cuddling when he started kissing my neck. I didn’t think much about it because we had made out before and he did that sometimes when we made out, but this time was different. He trailed his hand up my leg and started tugging at my pants in an effort to take them off. I stopped him and he looked at me confused. “Greg I’m sorry I uh...I’m a virgin and I...I don’t think I’m ready.” Greg huffed and looked at me. “Are you serious right now? After all I do for you and you’re gonna say ‘I’m not ready’?” He said it in a taunting voice. That was the first time I ever felt unsafe around Greg. “Greg I’m sorry I just don’t want to do that right now.” I said and stood up, moving away from him slightly. “Fuck you Y/N! Come here right now.” He literally chased me around my apartment until I threatened him with a police call. “Gregory Connar Philips I will call the police on you!” I yelled at him. His eyes widened and he looked worried. “Fine.” He slumped onto my couch and I couldn’t believe what had just happened. “I think it’s best you leave.” I whispered. He stood up and walked over to the door. After grabbing his jacket off the coat rack he opened the door and began to walk out. Right when I thought I was safe he turned to me and whisper-yelled, “If you tell anyone about this you will regret it. I will find out Y/N. I’m not stupid, unlike you.” And with that he slammed the door in my face. I couldn’t sleep that night. I wanted to die. I cried the entire night and contemplated what he said.

*End of flashback*

The next few weeks weren’t any different. Greg would come over to my house and the only way I got him to leave was by threatening him with the police. It was true I wasn’t ready. As long as I was with Greg, I never would be. I always loved my best friend Izzy. He was one for me. I was too scared to ask Izzy if he felt the same, and he never made a move. So eventually I met Greg and I liked him so I settled for him. I shouldn’t have done that though. Greg never layed a finger on me thankfully. Of course that changed though, two weeks ago actually.

~flashback~

“Greg please stop yelling at me!” I yelled. I had sat on the couch crying for the past two hours. Greg had been yelling and cussing at me about not wanting to have sex with him. I fucking hated Greg at this point. All the love I had ever felt for him, if any, was gone. Then it happened. Greg lifted his right arm and I looked up at him. He wouldn’t hit me, right? Well I was wrong. His hand came down at an extremely fast speed and hit me in the face. My face was stinging and tears were now running down my face at an immensely fast pace. I looked up at Greg and he smiled devilishly. “Don’t fucking yell at me little girl.” He spat. He pointed his finger in my face and walked into another part of the house. I wasn’t at my house so I decided I would leave. I walked to the door and opened it, but Greg shut it. “You’re not going anywhere. We don’t need you telling anyone about this do we?” I didn’t answer. I just looked at him shocked. “Do we?” He yelled. I shook my head no. After that I stayed at his house for the night. I slept on the couch that night.

*End of flashback*

After that I think Greg felt more comfortable with hitting me because he did it often. The worst so far was the black eye that I had currently. I didn’t want the boys to see it so I covered it up with makeup. I wanted to tell the boys about what Greg did but I was scared. Greg draped his arm around my shoulders and I shifted uncomfortably. Izzy and Slash were sitting on a couch opposite of me and Greg. I felt Greg’s hot breath on my ear and I shuttered. “You look very good tonight doll. What do you say we ditch these guys and go have some fun?” He whispered. He was seriously doing this in front of people?! “I’m alright. Thanks though.” I said loudly enough so the boys could hear. Greg gave me a death glare and I suddenly knew I had messed up. How bad would the punishment be this time? Izzy looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I shot him a small smile and looked down. Greg put his hand on my knee. Here we go again.

Izzy’s POV:

I looked over at Y/N as she shifted uncoftably. Greg whispered something in her ear and she declined it politely. I saw the look Greg gave her afterward and it made me think. What could he have said to her? I looked at her and raised my eyebrows, but she just smiled and looked down. I shrugged it off and continued to joke around with the guys.

*Time Skip*

It had been an hour since the Greg incident happened. I thought that was the end of it but then it happened again. And again. And again. I was starting to get upset with Greg. He was a complete asshole whenever I talked to him and Y/N seemed to be uncomfortable around him. As much as I didn’t wanna admit it I loved Y/N. We had been best friends for a while and I had developed feelings for her. I never had the guts to ask her out though. Then she found Greg and I had no chance. Greg wasn’t like me at all. He was some rich momma’s boy that played golf on the weekends. I was some weird ass rocker that played with their band on the weekends. I had watched Y/N become more uncomfortable by the minute over the past hour and I was done with it. I walked into the kitchen to find Axl and Duff. “Hey guys can I ask you something?” I whispered. “Ya just did dipshit but sure, give it a shot.” Duff spoke. “Have you guys noticed anything off about Y/N? Like, doesn’t she seem uncomfortable around Greg?” Axl and Duff both shot glances at Y/N and Greg. “Nah man. I think they’re fine.” Axl said. I leaned on the counter and sighed. “Alright.” I whispered. I watched Greg and Y/N for the next little while. It sounds creepy, but I wanted to make sure she was ok. I decided to sit in the chair next to them. I acted like I wasn’t paying attention, but I was snooping. I knew it was wrong to listen to their conversation, but I couldn’t help it. “Y/N you’re going to sleep with me tonight.” Greg whispered. What the hell is he talking about? “Greg, I told you I’m not ready for that. Please don’t do this in front of people. I don’t want it to get out of hand.” She pleaded. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. As much as my heart was hurting hearing the conversation I continued to listen. “Y/N I’m done with your bullshit. Tonight is the night or you will regret it.” His hand formed a fist in his lap and she frowned. “Can we please just talk about-” He cut her off. “No. No more talking Y/N!” His voice was now loud enough for everyone to hear. The boys turned their heads towards the couple and Y/N looked around. Greg’s eyes, however, stayed on Y/N the entire time. A single tear escaped her eye and coursed down her cheek. Greg stood up and looked down at Y/N. “Greg, please don’t do this right now please!” She choked out. It was obvious she was about to start crying and I had to do something. I looked at all the boys and they looked at me. “Hey Greg take a seat buddy. We can figure this out whatever it is.” Slash said in a hushed voice. “Shut up mop head.” Greg said and grabbed Y/N’s arm. “You are going to wish you didn’t do this Y/N.” He began dragging her down the hallway and Axl chased after. “Hey man I’m sorry but you can’t go back there we are uh..remodeling.” Axl stood in the hallway in front of Y/N and Greg to block their way. I could hear Y/N crying as Greg dragged her back down the hallway to the living room. “Greg, please stop! You’re hurting my arm.” She squealed. I walked over to Greg and looked him in the face. I wasn’t about to let him hurt Y/N. “Greg I don’t know what your problem is but you need to calm down.” He looked at me and smiled evily. What the hell was with this guy? “Tell the worthless piece of shit to make me happy and maybe I would calm down Mr. Stradlin.” He said perfectly calmly. This guy has issues. “Don’t talk about Y/N that way!” Duff stepped in. Greg tried to grab Y/N but I stopped him. “You need to leave Greg.” “Fine. Come on Y/N we’re going home.” He motioned for Y/N to go with him but I stopped her from going. “No Greg. Just you. Out now before I call the police.” Greg flipped me off and walked out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Hello!~This is my first two part imagine! I know this was really sad but I promise it will get better. Just make sure to read the second part! Thanks for reading btw. I have an instagram where I post edits I do of the boys so if you want to check it out i will put the name of it below. Have a great day and remember you are beautiful! :)♥︎

Instagram: thinkaboutyou_65

#gnr #gnr fic #gnr x reader #gnr imagine #guns n roses #guns n roses fic #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses x reader #izzy stradlin #izzy stradlin sad #izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin imagine #axl rose #slash #saul hudson #duff mckagan #steven adler #80's

[mediocre-writerr]

almost is never enough [toni shalifoe]

toni shalifoe x reader

requested: I had to reread Almost as soon as I finishes, perhaps an even angstier and fluffier part 2? (maybe something like the girls getting to watch the pain and stress y/n is being put through on her own through a live cam)

*not my gif*

Unbreakable. Not being able to cave under pressure, staying calm cool and collected. That’s what you like to think you are, especially on the outside. Sitting at this interrogation table yet again, but with no comfort that your friends are around. But at least there was the comfort knowing that they’re safe.

You may have been unbreakable on the outside. But the stress and the psychological torture they were playing on you was killing you slowly. But you have to stay strong for the girls. Who have got to be telling our story by now.

“So Shelby Goodkind, your best friend?” the middle aged lady, you learned as Gretchen says. You just nod, not wanting to say anything else, “How did you two meet?”

“School.”

“And how did you two get here?”

You shrugged, “Her parents came up with the idea. I wanted to go with. But I guess you already knew that.”

“And you decided to go with her why?” she asked.

Shrugging, yet again, “She had a rough year. You can’t really blame me for wanting to go with her, especially after what she went through.”

“And what did she go through?” she said, folding her hands.

You mocked her motions, “I’m not telling you anything.”

Little did you know, Agent Young set up a live stream so the girls knew you were okay. And their eyes haven’t left it since it started playing.

“That was the whole deal. I have agents watching their every move. You don’t tell me anything and there back to where they’re started.” she threatened and your face fell.

“You can’t do that! They deserved an out!” you screamed at her, the stress causing your whole demeanor to change.

She sat back with a smirk on her face, “And you didn’t?”

“No I didn’t! Those girls are my life! My family!” you yelled, “They deserved way more than what went on in that island! Nora, your little spy, dead! Jeanette, dead! Martha, dead! Rachel, lost her hand! All of us here have to go through months and possibly a whole life time of trauma for this sick experiment!!”

“We need to get her back.” Shelby mumbled to the other girls, “She’s cracking. She’s not gonna take much longer.”

“We’re almost there girls, don’t worry.” FBI agent, Aaron Hotchner said, from the front of the van.

The girls went straight to the authorities. They didn’t want to waste any time to relax when your life was at risk in that quarantine area. The livestream still playing as they watched your every move.

“It’s not a sick experiment. It grew all of you didn’t it?” she asked, “Shelby became who she really wanted to be. Toni wasn’t so angry at the world and let love in. Rachel no longer striving for perfection where it isn’t needed. Dot has learned that she doesn’t have to grow up so fast. Fatin and Leag realized their own true potential. And you grew to be such an amazing woman.”

“That doesn’t face the facts that all of us almost died! That we lost 3 girls out there! And not once did you think about stopping it! Not after Jeanette or Nora or Martha!” you screamed, “We did not go through what we went through in that island just for you to find shit on us to prevent us from suing you and throwing your ass in jail.”

“Y/N, we know.” Gretchen said.

“Know what?!”

“Everything that happened back home. We have leverage on most of you girls, that we can blackmail you about.” she explained, “One false move and all of it is history. So tell us what you know.”

You spring up from off your seat about to punch her right in the face when she made a tsk tsk tsk noise. Shaking her head and standing up, “You see one punch and boom the entire court case you will pull will be compromised.” two agents that you’ve never seen before grabbed both of your arms, “But it won’t compromise mine.”

She put on a brass knuckle that an agent handed her and hit you square in the face. You could feel the metal slash right through your flesh.

“No!” the girls yelled in the van, all of them beginning to freak out.

“Agent Hotchner, you need to drive faster.” Leah yelled at him.

“I’m going as fast as I can.” he turned on the signals and sirens, passing through everything he can.

The other blonde FBI agent Jareau looked back at all of our worried faces and that the screen, “Sir, the suspect is attacking.”

And that’s when he really pushed on the gas.

“Fuck you.” you spat, blood dripping from your face and mouth.

“You keep talking to me like that, let’s see what happens. There’s no one here to save you anymore. So tell me what you know...”

You looked up at her with a blood-stained teeth smile, “Never.”

And just when she was about to hit you the door flung open. You were dropped immediately as a team of FBI agents came walking in with their guns drawn.

“Gretchen Klein, you are under arrest. Put your hands in the air. Weapon off.” Agent Hotchner announced. She bedrungily took off the brass knuckle and got down on her knees with her hands up.

“Hey, hey. You can’t go in there!” one of the agents yelled, but the girls didn’t listen. Shelby and Toni rushed towards you faster than anyone else.

Toni held you in her arms, while Shelby examined your injuries. You smiled at them, “Hey...hey guys.”

They both let out a breath of relief, “Hey Y/N.”

“My face hurts.” you whispered. Toni placed a small kiss to your forehead.

“I know, but you’re still beautiful.” she whispered.

“We got you Y/N. Let’s go home.” Shelby whispered as you passed out in there arms.

///

tag list/ @hstoria @greysky22 @shalifoestilinski @yourssincerelyj

#the wilds imagines #the wilds #toni shalifoe imagines #toni shalifoe x reader

[ciggylungz]

Eat your heart out

Blurb night- 1.8k words

(request: ok but what if u wrote one where y/n is a virgin and they finally did it after dating for months and then Harry's friends came to visit him and you overheard h talking how bad u are and all that angsty stuff...)

 Virginity

The word means a something different to everyone. Some people save it for marriage, some don’t care about it, others tie it to religion. It’s all up to personal interpretation and value. For Y/n, it’s not that she didn’t want to lose it, she just never felt ready until she met Harry.

She had met him through a mutual friend, they were both invited to a birthday party and just got on so well they decided to get to know each other better. Dates, hangouts, and many hours spent together later they had become official and now they’re 5 months in and going strong.

A few nights ago, she had finally felt ready. She had communicated to Harry at the start of their relationship she’d never been intimate with someone before and it might take her a while to feel ready to be so vulnerable with him, but eventually the night came and while it was a bit clumsy filled with trial and error she thought over all it was a special experience. Harry had made her feel comfortable, he had made her feel like she was beautiful and made him happy, so she’s completely confused and crestfallen at the words she’s hearing come from his mouth echoing through the spacious house.

“mate, it was bad. Like proper awful, I almost gagged at some points from how bad it was.”

A cruel laugh followed his words. Her chest felt hollow, like her heart had caved in just from his words. She couldn’t bring herself to stop listening, she guessed she was just a glutton for punishment because the hurtful words just kept coming.

“I thought being with a virgin would be hot!”

She heard the voice of one of his friends exclaim, she had never hated the sound of someone’s voice before that moment.

“so did I! it’s why I put up with the wait, thought she’d be bloody tight and a good shag, but I was dead wrong. She barely got wet; she didn’t even taste good! I couldn’t stay hard for shit, pretended to cum and everything just to get it over with. I didn’t know sex could be so bad!”

Another round of cackles and random bullying comments were made about Y/n among the group of men, at this point Y/n felt worthless. She felt like she failed, she felt dirty and stupid. Everything he’d ever said to her was now being questioned. she swears she could vomit.

“Jesus H, what a waste of a pussy innit? Don’t worry can get some girls lined up for you this weekend. Can trip and have a proper orgy, deserve it after pity fucking that dud.”

“Thank god! Need a good fuck after that nightmare. Line up a good few for me yea?”

Humiliated didn’t even come close to describing how Y/n felt right now. Not only had her boyfriend objectify and completely embarrass her to his friends, she’d just heard first hand that he hated it so much he had faked his orgasm, and was planning to cheat on her with multiple women in less than 24 hours. She was sick, her heart stomped on and her feelings completely crushed. She’d never felt so worthless, stupid, used and disgusted with herself. She had confided in Harry how she was scared to be vulnerable, afraid to be intimate with someone because she wasn’t ready to be so open and bare with another person. Harry had told her how she was worth the wait, how she was beautiful and he loved her but now she knew none of it was real. He’d just wanted to be with a virgin, and he hated the experience.

The vomit crawling up her throat had finally reached her mouth, the girl darting towards the bathroom to empty her churning stomach into the toilet tears springing to her eyes as her body tried desperately to purge out all the hurt yet the waves kept coming.

If anyone had heard her getting sick, they didn’t care since no one even called out her name. The girl didn’t even feel like an actual person anymore, just a defective object who was disposable. She couldn’t be here anymore, the emotional pain starting to manifest into physical symptoms as well. Her head pounding, stomach turning and ears ringing. It took all the energy she had left to shove some of her things into her bag to take back to her flat.

The girl was too humiliated to even face them, to confront Harry or mention what she had heard. She internalized all of it, pulling her hood up and ducking out of the front door silently. She suddenly felt lucky that the living room wasn’t in view of the entry way so she could slip out without detection.

 ----

y/n didn’t bother to leave a not nor text Harry about her departure, making her way on foot to the underground to get home. She hadn’t driven her car there since Harry had picked her up, and she didn’t have any service to get an uber so she opted for the easiest option.

The majority of the train ride she spent with her head down, thoughts racing as she desperately tried to suppress the sobs begging to be let out. she somehow managed to keep it together until she got into her flat, as soon as she shut the door her back was against it pained sobs wracking through her body.

When her bottom finally hit the ground she was reminded of the bruises she’d woken up with on her hips and ass from where Harry had gripped onto her.

Maybe that’s why he made me switch to all fours, he was so disgusted he couldn’t even look at my face. Maybe that’s why he seemed to get angry, I couldn’t make him feel good.

The soreness didn’t even compare to the internal injuries his words had left her with. It was as if she’d been clawed from the inside out, every hurtful word slashed at her organs. Her mind burning with self-hatred, insecurity and disgust towards herself. Y/n had always been insecure, she struggled with body image and confidence since she was a child and this ridicule of her natural state and what was supposed to be special tore her limb from limb.

She didn’t know how long it had been, she seemed to zone out finding herself laying in fetal position on the wood floors of her home. Her back was still pressed into the cold steel door, using what was left of her to stand to her feet and lock it, sliding the chain lock as well just to make sure there would be no chance of anyone disrupting her decent into the void of pain.

She didn’t get much sleep that night, her head wouldn’t stop pounding and her thoughts never eased up. She’d gotten a text from Harry asking where she was, her only sending a simple message saying she was feeling poorly and went home in reply.

Harry left her on read.

It must have been many hours since the sun had rose then set again in the time she’d laid still between her covers. She hadn’t gotten up to use the bathroom or eat. She didn’t feel like a person anymore. She didn’t feel like she held any worth in any sense to anyone, seeing as no one had reached out for her in the hours she’d been MIA, not even the boy who supposedly loved her.

Y/n shifted her gaze to the clock on her nightstand, she then knew it was Sunday. It had been almost an entire 48 hours since she’d moved from her spot and by now she was sure Harry had been balls deep in numerous other women. Women who could give him everything she failed to, women who he desired and could get off with. They must be everything she’s convinced she’s not. Pretty, sexy, desirable, loveable, worthy of Harry’s intimacy. Something he regretted ever engaging in with his own girlfriend.

 ---

It was 10 in the morning on Monday when Y/n’s phone finally dinged. By Sunday night she had managed to drag herself to the bathroom to relieve herself and brush her teeth, yet she only then returned to her bed to lay in a depressed shame filled coma of sorts, she truly felt so heart broken it was like her body was giving up on her.

She caved and looked at the message, feeling another stomp on her deflated heart when she saw it was from Harry-

“you alright? Stopped by your work, they said you haven’t called out but you never showed?”

Y/n had forgotten about her job in her spiral, but even now she couldn’t bring herself to care. She knew she was already on thin ice with her manager for taking so many days off to see Harry preform or visit him on his breaks so it wasn’t a surprise if she got fired. She didn’t care though; she knew if she lost her job she’d be another month late on rent and end up being evicted since she couldn’t scrape together enough for last month either. This would lead to her likely having to move back home with her mother or find a hostile somewhere for women, yet she didn’t care. It seems silly that something as simple as someone commenting on her sexual skills would put her in such a state, but that’s not really the main focal point in her mind.

The thing that hurt most was knowing Harry had only been with her to get to take someone’s virginity, and she’d disappointed him so badly he talked shit about her to his friends and made plans to cheat on her. Harry had completely disrespected, objectified and crushed her, and he didn’t even know she knew but she decided he shouldn’t have to know she knew what he said for him to realize it’s wrong. He’s an adult man who knew full well how hurtful and horrid his comments were about someone he had claimed to love. He should have spoke to her if he felt that way, yet instead he played her and tossed her out like rubbish.

Harry broke her heart, one he’d known was already fragile and timid. He’d still said all those nasty things about her even after the nights he’d let her cry into her chest about how much she hated her body, how bad her self-image and confidence was, the way she felt like she was never good enough for anyone. His actions only confirmed what she’d always feared to be true.

Harry didn’t love her.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #blurb night #harry styles smut #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles concept #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blog #harry styles request

[dear-yandere]

☽ darling, don’t leave me.

yandere! jojos + dio. general headcanons. tw: mentions of physical abuse, gaslighting, confinement, and noncon (dio’s part).

art credits: rosuto, ぴの, wW 武 Ww, unknown, suan, tumbleweed.

Jonathan Joestar is obsessive.

A true gentleman, Jonathan knows better than to let his feelings stray from his control. Still, he’s never been one to pursue love, so these feelings are entirely new. He courts his darling like any other self-respecting man of his time, allowing them the space to choose whether or not they desire him too. He doesn’t take being turned down personally as he’s perfectly content with merely being by his darling’s side. Even seeing them fall for another man is something he cannot force himself to intervene in; every smile and laugh not directed at him hurts far worse than any punch he’s ever received, but Jonathan thrives in seeing his darling happy and carefree.

Clingy as he may be, he isn’t above taking a few of darling’s possessions should the opportunity present itself. A head band or hair tie here or there, perhaps a pair of gloves or a hat his darling is sure to not miss — Jonathan is surprisingly adept and subtle at stealing and keeping these little trinkets. Darling may notice a few missing possessions, but it’s nothing Jonathan can’t laugh off as a misplaced item and easily replace with something new and extravagant. Money isn’t a problem, especially when it comes to his sweetheart. If it means they’ll stay by his side — or even look his way as more than a friend or confidant — he’ll give his darling the world.

Overbearing and well-meaning as he is, even gentleman aren’t without their flaws.

“You don’t have to feel the same. All I ask is that you don’t leave me.”

Joseph Joestar is protective with a hint of possessiveness.

Acting much more like an older brother rather than a lover — similar to his grandfather Jonathan — Joseph is hyper-aware of anyone that might hurt his sweetheart. He’s not sure how it came to be this way, really; it’s a first for him to not know even his own feelings. His darling is easy enough to read, and perhaps that’s what got him into this situation, where even the slightest brush of skin against his or the mere sound of them saying his name sends his nerves on edge. He likes the attention they give him when he acts like a brotherly figure; there’s no need to worry about unwanted feelings developing between the pair. At least, darling doesn’t have to worry, because Joseph falls in love despite his precautions. It isn’t until a competent rival appears that Joseph becomes rather intensely possessive and competitive — a rival like Caesar.

He hates losing, especially when he had his eyes set on the goal first. The moment a suave man like Caesar sets their sights on Joseph’s darling, he’ll turn snarky, snappy with even his darling. It’s a brutally stark contrast to the playful, chipper demeanor he usually bears, but it’s easy for darling to play it off as him having a bad day — until he doesn’t relent. His grip is harsher these days, his tone more grating and condescending whenever darling shows interest in his rival. At some point, he’ll lash out whenever they show interest in any man other than him.

If his insecurities and one-sided love are kept unchecked, he has no qualms with cutting his darling’s connection to anyone he deems a threat.

“Of course I’m jealous! You’re mine! You need me!”

Jotaro Kujo is manipulative with a hint of sadism and lucidity.

With a cool and collected exterior, it’s easy to convince his darling that everything they believe is wrong. Even a lionhearted lover will doubt themselves; or rather, Jotaro would seek an individual like this out. He’s used to women and men swooning over his good looks and alluring physique, though he doesn’t care much for the attention. Even when he degrades and admonishes his admirers, they fawn and swoon over him — it’s nothing short of disgusting, really. 

His ideal darling — the only type of person he’d seek out, rather than let come to him — is someone with a steel heart, someone hellbent on rejecting his words as law, someone who puts up a fight. Degrading and humiliating them will be a treat, a fun little challenge to come home to. He doesn’t want them to enjoy this in the slightest; he wants them to slowly break, to slowly doubt every piece of information they hear unless it comes from his mouth. Even the death of a loved one will seem surreal, exaggerated, fake unless he says so himself, and even then he won’t allow his darling that sort of luxury.

Once he’s tied his darling down (with a ring, and with ropes), they won’t see very much of him. As he pursues his career in Marine Biology, he’s often away on business trips, his only excuse for long periods of absence being “it’s too dangerous”, or some slew of insults thrown his darling’s way. He isn’t fond of divulging much of his personal life with them even if they are the love of his life; to him, secrets come hand-in-hand with relationships. Darling’s life is in danger simply by association; it’s best to act as if they don’t exist. Still, that doesn’t mean he’ll let them slip through his fingers. When he wants something, he’ll get it even if it’s eventual. 

Darling was doomed the moment he found an inkling of interest in taming them.

“Don’t look so scared when I’m around. I shouldn’t have to repeat myself.”

Josuke Higashikata is protective with a hint of delusion.

Sweet and compassionate as he may be, Josuke isn’t immune to feelings of inadequacy, jealousy, and obsession. He rationalizes these feelings as merely being protective of a good friend of his, but it’s not until his friends point out that what he’s feeling is love that he truly understands why his heart pitters and patters like raindrops when his darling’s around. He completely understands if darling doesn’t return his feelings — these things take time, he’ll say — but he doesn’t take kindly to jealousy of any sort. A mere mention of liking someone else will have him moping and distancing himself, but he’ll stay around just enough to ensure his beloved’s protection.

Josuke wouldn’t fare well with a darling who’s familiar with getting under his skin. Even an insult or two to his hair isn’t enough for Josuke to give up on his one-sided love; if anything, it’s an opportunity. Crazy Diamond has the power to heal after all, and when Josuke’s emotions run away from him, his darling may end up with more than a few cuts and bruises. Bones will be shattered, blood will be spilled, and apologies will fumble past trembling lips as darling’s abuser fixes them up — as if nothing ever happened. The only trace of evidence are the tears in Josuke’s eyes and the excuses on his lips — this easily becomes the norm. Both he and his darling will constantly tread along eggshells, the former worrying that his actions destroyed any chance of a relationship and the latter worrying the next time they step out of line, they’ll die.

But Josuke wouldn’t let his sweetheart die, no. He can heal whatever wounds they may receive, even its its from him. He’s a platonic yandere, at worst, and an overbearingly violent one at best. 

“Please don’t scream. People will think I did something terrible to you.”

Giorno Giovanna is manipulative with a hint of protectiveness and lucidity.

This soldato is cunning and intuitive, a natural-born leader with charisma rivaling his true father’s. He turns heads wherever he goes, inspires everyone he meets — it’s almost laughable how easy it is to twine people around his fingers. As a mere Passione soldato, he isn’t much threat to his darling, but as don, any hope of escaping his suffocating love is slashed. His control reaches farther than his darling can ever tread, and although he understands why his little coccinella would go so far as to run away, the thought of being without them is inconceivable. How can he protect them if they’re not at his side? Without him, darling could fall in love with the wrong person, someone who wears a mask and will hurt them once they’ve settled down together; without him, darling could fall in love with a monster. His step-father was like that, and he’d made Giorno’s childhood a living hell. So how could he let his darling tread that same path?

With a well-behaved darling, the don is a fairly normal lover... once they get past all the bodyguards and paranoia-filled lifestyle. Unlike his father, Giorno is not sadistic in the slightest; rather, seeing his darling in physical or emotional turmoil hurts him. He’s more apt to manipulate them in subtle, gentler ways rather than through brute force or threats. After giving them a new identity, he’ll keep them someplace safe, a private island off the coasts of Italy, somewhere heavily guarded and devoid of life except for his beloved and their bodyguards. It’ll be lonely, he’s sure, so he’s certain to visit whenever he has an ounce of free time. But even he can’t replace one’s need to feel social, safe, normal. That’s just the price his lover has to pay as the future spouse of a mafioso.

If he lived a different life, there’d be no need for all of this. Giorno’s love is bittersweet at best, but that realization isn’t enough to let his darling go. They need him, perhaps just as much as he needs them.

“I really can’t take it when you cry like that… smile for me, alright? You’re so pretty when you smile.”

DIO is sadistic, manipulative, and possessive.

Love has never done much for him, not in the way feeling powerful has. He prefers ruling over others rather than giving someone the ability to rule with or over him. His darling is nothing more than a plaything, at best — something to pass the time, something to sate his curiosity. Just how far can he push them before they crumble between his fingers and shatter like a precious gemstone? He takes pleasure in testing these boundaries, humiliating his darling as if that will help him understand this odd feeling humans call love. It’s possible for him to truly fall in love with his darling, but they will never take priority over his desire to end the Joestar bloodline. Perhaps, once he accomplishes this goal, his darling will be something nice to come back to, something stagnant and forever his.

He’ll go to lengths to break his darling, over and over again, see how much torture they can withstand before they realize that crying out or begging gets them nowhere. Will they hide their defiance under a facade of obedience, or will they truly break? It’s all an experiment to Dio, but either way, he’ll force them to be his little sex slave — sometimes, if they’ve behaved particularly nasty, darling will be the sex slave of his devoted followers, a little reward for being such wonderful subordinates. 

Apart from sexual torture, he’s keen on testing his darling on tidbits of information from the books he reads — completely mundane and often vague questions designed to make his little slave fail. It’s just a precursor, really, because he likes seeing them shine with determination only for it to shatter before their eyes. Punishments always follow, usually humiliation or sexual assault of some sort; though if he’s in a particularly bad mood, he won’t shy away from physically hurting his darling. All the better to break them with.

It’s a miracle if darling survives this little game of his, but if they do, he’s certain to keep them around for far longer than he originally anticipated. Being immortal can get so boring, you see, and what’s the fun of bottomless money and endless casual sex if he can’t keep an entertaining and worthy slave here or there?

“Tell me you love me as I fuck you into the mattress.”

#yandere jonathan joestar #yandere jotaro kujo #yandere josuke higashikata #yandere joseph joestar #yandere giorno giovanna #yandere dio #yandere jonathan joestar x reader #yandere jotaro kujo x reader #yandere josuke higashikata x reader #yandere joseph joestar x reader #yandere giorno giovanna x reader #yandere dio x reader #jjba x reader #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere #yandere scenario #yandere imagines #*headcanons #tw abuse #tw noncon #tw gaslighting #tw confinement

[writing-on-standby]

time of dreaming (pt two)

Summary: Soulmates meet in their dreams from the age of 16 until they meet for the first time. Once they meet, they share their physical and emotional feelings with one another until they die. Tom Holland was just starting to learn how to take over the family business and ignore the urge to find his soulmate when everything changes and he’s found face to face with you. You’ve always wanted to meet your soulmate and spend the rest of your life with them until you actually meet yours and life changes forever.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, hospital, mentions of grief/death, smoking, drinking

                                         part two: negotiations

As the ambulance’s scream echoed closer to the parking lot they all sat in, Tom helplessly watched as Harrison was trying to stop the bleeding on the stranger that had gotten involved in an unnecessary conflict. Tom ran a hand through his messy hair as more tears burned the back of his throat. He took a deep breath and shook them away, knowing that he was now in charge of one of the biggest mobs in the United Kingdom. He couldn’t show weakness - not now, not ever again.

Tom looked down at the girl on Harrison’s lap. Her hair was long enough to be sticky with her own blood. Then again, almost all of the poor girl was covered in blood. When Tom shut his eyes, all he saw was the look on her face when Luke O’Malley grabbed her. Tom couldn’t shake the look she had when her chest was slashed open. Guilt burned at Tom’s eyes. When he started taking over the business, he was able to shut out the guilt, but he never got used to seeing innocent people getting hurt.

“Tom,” Harrison spoke. Tom blinked a few times, trying to ground himself in what was happening currently. It was getting harder and harder to focus on his feet on the ground. Maybe, he’d see his soulmate in his dream tonight. Sometimes, during especially hard days, he’d see the girl he was meant to spend forever with. During those dreams, he’d usually avoid speaking and let the vague-faced girl rush to tell him facts about her.

*

“It’s been a while,” you murmured.

Tom blinked and found himself in the familiar pink cloud. The air was warm and smelled of roses. He smiled, but he knew you couldn’t see his actual face, just like he couldn’t really see yours. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

You chuckled. The laugh that danced out of your lips was airy and velvety. Tom ignored the warmth that spread across his cheeks. You sat down on the ground like you usually did. “I’m sorry, hun.” You didn’t say anything for a while. Neither of you did. It was the usual routine the two of you had developed. Both of you had began enjoying the presence of one another. “When can we meet?”

Tom almost didn’t hear you. He wish he hadn’t. Your voice was so timid and fragile that he knew you were upset over not being able to meet him. “I don’t know,” he lied. His heart constricted with guilt for a brief moment before he was able to ignore it. It was the safest option for both of you to never meet. At least that’s what he told himself.

“I don’t even know your name,” you muttered, harshly.

Tom nodded, knowing that it was true. Neither of you had shared your names, despite you asking him repeatedly to share his. Part of Tom was scared of the rejection that he faced if he told you his name. He was terrified of you being afraid of him for what his family was known for. Tom ignored this thought, however, and focused on the importance of not meeting. “I don’t know yours, either,” he whispered back.

You laughed, humorlessly. “I’ll tell you mine when you tell me yours.” Tom didn’t respond, but you weren’t surprised. He watched you shake your head and move to your feet. You stood up and pushed your hair away from your face. “Look, if you’re good enough at dream manipulation to mask your face and your voice, don’t even bother coming to see me anymore. I don’t know why I waste my time here. I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

Before Tom could say anything, you were gone from the dream. He groaned, running a hand through his hair. He knew he was hurting you by not giving any information about himself out, but he wanted to protect you. If he was being honest, though, he wanted to protect himself and his family more.

That was the last time he saw you in his dreams.

*

“Tom,” Harrison shouted, shaking Tom away from the memory of the last time he saw his soulmate. Tom looked down at Harrison, his best friend since his childhood. Harrison’s blue eyes were nervous, but Tom knew he was trying to hold it together for himself and his best friend. You were still passed out on his lap, but Harrison was now joined by Tom’s brother, Sam. Sam was joining Harrison’s attempt to stop the bleeding, but it looked more like they were playing in red paint. “She’s not going to make it.”

Sam shook his head. “She’s going to make it Harrison. Tom, help us stop the bleeding.”

Tom took as step closer to his family. Before he could get closer to you, Tom was hit with what felt like an invisible wall. All of the air in Tom’s lungs was pushed out of him as he felt a pressure against his right shoulder as well as his stomach. Tom shook his head, ignoring those feelings, knowing that he was in a fight earlier. Tom assumed the pain was a delayed reaction to the fight, now that the possibility of danger was gone. Tom walked closer to your limp body and tried gently shaking you awake. “You need to wake up, hon,” Tom spoke gently. “Come on, think of your family. Think of your soulmate.” Tom watched as your eyes danced under your eyelids. Your lips parted, slightly, but only a whimper fell between your lips. “Wake up.”

Harrison looked up at Tom. Tom’s brown eyes were vulnerable as he spoke to the lifeless body that Harrison was holding. Harrison wasn’t used to Tom showing the vulnerable side of him to anyone other than his family. Even then, the moments that Tom showed vulnerability were few and far between. Harrison knew that part of Tom’s reaction was due to his father’s very recent and very sudden death. Harrison looked back down at the lifeless body he was holding.

Before they could come up with a plan to tell the authorities, the ambulance screamed closer and the boys were roughly pushed away from you. Tom was growing frustrated with the amount of people rushing back and forth. All he wanted to do was go home, but he knew that he had to stay back and act as a witness.

While Tom stood back and watched the lifeless girl get CPR, he noticed a sinking feeling in his chest. He was struggling to catch his breath while he watched the paramedics work on the girl in front of him. “No,” he muttered, refusing to focus on the feelings he was getting. It was just the adrenaline leaving his body. It had to be.

“Excuse me, can I ask a few questions about what happened?”

Tom looked up at the officer in front of him. He nodded and sighed, totally used to working with officers in his line of work. “It was an O’Malley that did this,” he muttered.

The officer’s blue eyes widened while he studied Tom. The officer looked down at the pin that rested near Tom’s heart. Every member of the Holland Clan wore the same pin on their chest, showing their allegiance to the Mob. The officer slowly nodded, knowing what had happened. “Okay.” The officer walked away without another word.

Tom’s family paid off most of the officers in London to ensure their power over the city. Tom roughly ran a hand through his hair as he looked back to the paramedics. The sinking feeling suddenly went away as his heart skipped a beat. The world slowed around Tom as he felt as though there was two people breathing from his lungs. He struggled to control his own breathing and focus on his own body. “This can’t be fucking happening,” he moaned to himself, quietly.

Harrison walked over to Tom and clapped a hand to his shoulder. “C’mon, mate. She survived. Let’s go home.”

Tom nodded. “What if she tells them what happened? She doesn’t know what cops are on our payroll and what ones aren’t. What if she speaks to the wrong one?”

Harrison shook his head. “I don’t know, mate. All I know is it’s been a tough day for us. Let’s get home and rest.”

Tom shook his head. “No,” he growled. “I need an answer to this, now. She could wake up while we get some rest,” He mocked.

Harrison sighed and looked around at the scene that was playing out. The paramedics had lifted you onto a stretcher and put you in the ambulance. They were speaking to Sam and Harrison could only assume that they were telling Sam where they were taking you in an assumption that the Hollands actually cared about this random stranger. “We can tell her that we’ll take care of her bills until she can go back to work as long as she doesn’t say anything. It’s not like we can’t afford it.”

Tom nodded, not really paying attention to what was happening around him. His chest was hurting and his soul ached. Tom had no idea what was causing this pain, but he was pushing the feelings as far away from his mind as he could. “So we blackmail the girl after she’s assaulted because of us.”

“What the hell else are we going to do, Tom?”

Tom tried to ignore the anger he felt twisting its way into his stomach at the tone Harrison used towards him. “Fine. We’ll go to the hospital and talk to her once she wakes up.”

*

Your eyes were burning, but that didn’t compare to the ache you felt in your stomach. Your organs were hot and burned every time you took a breath. You slowly peeled your eyelids open as a soft whimper escaped your lips. Your lips were chapped, knuckles ached, and your right arm was in a sling. You blinked a few times, but nothing could erase the anger that was bubbling inside you. For a second, you tried to figure out what you were so mad about, but the more you focused on this feeling, the sooner you realized that it wasn’t your anger you felt. It was your soulmate’s.

Your heart skipped a beat at this thought. Maybe it was one of the paramedics that was your soulmate. Maybe he masked his identity because he was too busy with his job. You tried not to get your hopes up, but you knew you had met your soulmate in the last few hours. You blinked a few more times, trying to decipher what pain was yours and what was your soulmate’s, but it wasn’t working. You just grew more tired.

Before you could really acclimate to your surroundings, the door to your room busted open. Your heart raced as the memories of the four men you saw rushed back to your brain. What if it was the man who had hurt you? What if he was coming back to erase any witnesses? You shut your eyes as if that would convince the man not to hurt you again.

You flinched as a hand gently rested on your left forearm. “Hey, hey,” a soft voice cooed next to you. You recognized Harrison, the man who had been there when you fell. Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe this kind man was your soulmate. He had gone out of his way to save you and maybe he didn’t want to meet you because he was dealing with that man who had hurt you. “You can open your eyes, y/n. We won’t hurt you.”

As soon as Harrison said ‘we’, you felt your heart drop. You slowly opened your eyes and saw the brown-eyed man with his cold and calculating eyes. You remembered him being referred to as Tom, but that didn’t make him any less scary to you. You looked back at Harrison, who sat to your left. He had a soft smile on his face and he looked much nicer than the other boy in the room with you.

“We’re so sorry that this happened to you,” Harrison murmured. He looked at you with his blue eyes. They looked sad, but just as calculating as Tom’s. “But we need you to do something for us.”

“Excuse me,” You rasped. Your voice was much more accusatory than you meant, but how dare they ask for your help after what you had already been through? You didn’t even know how you could be of use to the two men in front of you. “No.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tom snapped. He rubbed his tired face, roughly. Suddenly, you felt your anger grow in the pit of your stomach. You looked at Tom for a little while longer. Your soul was screaming for you to move, but you stayed put in your bed. Your heart dropped further in your bones at the thought of this rough and cold man in front of you being your soulmate.

Harrison looked between the two of you for a brief second as if telling his friend to calm down. “Look, we’ll pay for any bills you have until you can go back to work. Whether that’s rent, utilities, or anything, but you have to swear to us that you won’t tell any cops what happened, okay?”

The anger in your stomach was growing. You couldn’t believe the audacity of the two men in front of you. “And what if I do?”

“Then we’ll fucking finish the job that O’Malley started,” Tom snapped. “It’s up to you, princess,” he mocked.

The heat of the anger that belonged to your soulmate shot through your insides. It mingled with the anger that belonged to you and your body. Your cheeks flushed at the thought of this man bringing you so much anger and affecting your emotions more than you realized. You were furious that the universe cursed you with this man in front of you that obviously didn’t give a fuck about you. You shook your head and stared as deep into the brown eyes in front of you as you could. You hoped he would read the anger and poison in your head as you opened your mouth. “Fucking do it then,” you hissed. “I’d rather die today than feel you for the rest of my life.”

Tom’s eyes widened and he visibly flinched. You knew that he was just as much in denial about you being his soulmate as you were, but you saying it out loud only confirmed his fear. You felt an ache in your chest that you quickly identified as hurt. Your words had hurt Tom, but you didn’t care. Not after the way he had been treating you. He took a step closer to you and in what felt like a second, he was right at your bedside. Before you could process what he was doing, he grabbed your right shoulder, right where the stitches ended. His grip wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t exactly gentle. You hid the pain from him, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. As Harrison let out a word of protest, Tom gave your stitches a squeeze, causing you to yelp in pain. At the same time, Tom’s hand dropped from your shoulder and immediately went to his right one. He took three steps back as if you had burned him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he yelled as he turned away from you. You felt fear, anger, and hope all swirling in your blood. You couldn’t tell who’s feelings belonged to who, but it was overwhelming to say the least.

You shook your head as tears burned at the back of your eyes. All the years that you had envisioned what it would be like to meet your soulmate all to lead to this. Your hands were shaking as you wiped a stray tear away. You had always wanted to meet the person you would spend the rest of your life with, but the universe played this sick twisted joke on you and gave you Tom Holland, London’s most notorious gangster. “Fuck you,” you spat. “Get the fuck out of my room before I call the nurse.”

Harrison looked between the two of you as he stood up and walked over to Tom. “Come on,” he murmured. “Let me handle it.”

Tom whipped around and glared at Harrison. His brown eyes were wide with fury. You could feel his anger burning at the skin on your cheeks. It was becoming so overwhelming to feel his anger, but most importantly, his sadness. “You don’t understand what this means, Harrison,” he snapped. “I can’t deal with this. Not right now.”

Before either you or Harrison could respond, Tom turned on his heel and stormed out of your room. The door slammed behind him with such force that the air left your lungs. You looked down at the bed, trying to catch your breath, knowing that Tom was causing these feelings. You covered your face with your good hand and took a deep calming breath.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I promise he isn’t always like this,” Harrison spoke.

You shook your head, not wanting to believe any of this was happening. In all of the dreams you’d shared with Tom, he was never this angry or violent. However, in the dreams, Tom never shared much, anyway. When the two of you were together in your dream world, you were both quiet and got along just fine. On the days that he would actually talk with you, the both of you would spend as long as possible together, but on the days that he didn’t speak to you, you never stuck around. “You know,” you rasped, quietly. “I always adored the idea of having a soulmate to cherish me and love me through all of my fucked up days, but so far my soulmate has only hurt me more than I ever could.”

*

Tom fought the urge to punch the wall, knowing that his soulmate was already in enough pain. He shook his head, trying to get ahold of his temper, but nothing was working to calm him down. How could he have such fucked up luck that the first time he’d meet his soulmate was when he was blackmailing her? Better yet, how was his luck so messed up that the first time he saw his soulmate was when one of the members of the rival mob was slashing her chest open.

Tom flew down the stairs of the hospital and walked straight out of the building, not caring about who was seeing him. He couldn’t understand the way life worked for him. He could feel your sadness and your hurt, but his anger was drowning him more than anything else. He couldn’t stop the fire that was licking up his throat and begging to be let out. Tom climbed into his matte black Corvette and slammed the door shut. He slammed his fists on the steering wheel and yelled as loud as he could. He screamed until his throat was dry and his voice was hoarse. How was life so twisted that he was stuck with one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen, but a life so fucked up that he couldn’t let her in?

When Tom’s throat was burning, he stopped yelling. He didn’t realize that tears had been streaming down his face and that guilt, sadness, and agony where swallowing him up. He dropped his face in his hands as a loud sob erupted from his sternum. He knew his grief was mingling with your sadness, but it felt like he was drowning in a wave of tragedy. Here he was, grieving the loss of his father and he was lucky enough to meet his soulmate after she was forced into a traumatic experience and wanted nothing to do with him. All the years of dream manipulation training and Tom’s father had never taught him how to hide his emotions from his soulmate. Pathetic. Tom was pathetic and he knew it. He shook his head as the tears were slipping off his jaw and onto his shirt. “Fuck me.” He put the car in drive and drove home, trying to collect his thoughts the whole way.

*

“I won’t say anything to the cops,” you rasped. “I’ll tell them it was too traumatic to remember anything. That happens sometimes, y’know.”

Harrison looked at your watery eyes and the tremble in your bottom lip. You were focused on the blankets that covered your legs, but he could see the pain in your face. Harrison never thought that Tom would meet his soulmate, but he know that if Tom ever did, he’d royally fuck it up for himself. Harrison knew that Tom was never good with social interaction that didn’t involve violence or business, but that didn’t stop him from wanting the best for his best friend. “How do you know about trauma and memories?”

Harrison watched your shoulders slowly lift and drop. You winced at the movement and sighed. “I have a bachelors in Psychology. I intern at the psychiatric ward here.” Your eyes widened at the thought of your best friend working in the emergency room. “Fuck, do you know the nurses who worked on me?”

Harrison shook his head with a confused look on his face. “No. Why? Is everything okay?”

You sighed and looked for your phone. Harrison caught on and grabbed it from the nightstand just out of your reach. He handed it to you with a smile. You opened it and sent a quick text to Jazmin, letting her know you were awake and safe. You shut your phone off, not having any energy to talk with anyone for a while. You felt your fists ache as your throat became so dry that swallowing became painful. You shut your eyes, knowing that Tom was the cause of this pain. He was grieving, you could tell. Grief wasn’t a new emotion for you, but the sensation of feeling someone else was still strange. “What happened to Tom? Why is he grieving?”

Harrison looked down at the ground. He didn’t want to overshare, but the look on your face told him that you were drowning in Tom’s feelings. He struggled between loyalty to his best friend and leader and the hurt girl on the bed in front of him. “It’s not my place to talk about, but his dad died today. Right before he met you.”

You nodded, very slowly. This grief was strong and never-ending. You couldn’t stand the thought of seeing this man again, but you also didn’t want to let him suffer alone. “You should go help him. I’ll be fine and I won’t say anything to the cops.”

Harrison watched your face, trying to make sense of this situation. Harrison had to admit that it was royally fucked up. Tom’s soulmate was laid up in the hospital and at this moment, only him and Tom knew. You would be safe for now, but what happens when someone else found out and used you against Tom? Harrison took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” he murmured. He stood up and looked down at you. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Don’t bother,” you muttered.

Harrison tried to ignore the sadness in your voice as he walked out of your room and towards the exit of the hospital. Life was fucked up for the family. It always had been.

Once Harrison left the hospital room, you were completely alone. You were fine with that, however. The emptiness of the room gave you more opportunity to focus on who’s feelings belonged to who. The longer you sat there feeling empty and sad, the more you realized it was you, not Tom. You sighed and rested your head against the bed. You grabbed the TV remote next to you and turned it on. After a few seconds of watching TV, you felt your throat burn stronger than it had before. You coughed a few times, slowly becoming acquainted with the taste of cigarettes. You groaned. Of course Tom smoked. Not long after that, your face flushed and your throat burned stronger. Whiskey, you recognized, was now making its presence known on your tastebuds. Perfect.

Everything you’d hoped for in a soulmate was the complete opposite of Tom. You had hoped for a man who would sweep you off your feet. A man who would tell you how much you were worth to him, even on days that you bothered the living hell out of him. You hoped for a man that would wipe your tears away and hold you on the days that your sadness grew too heavy to hold. You hoped for a friend, a lover, and a soulmate. Instead, you got a cold, careless, and emotionless man who was less than enthused to have you as his soulmate for the rest of your life.

You eventually grew tired of the burning in your throat and paged a nurse. Once the nurse walked away, promising two large cups of water, you focused back on the TV. You would forget about Tom. You had to because there was no other solution to the pain you were feeling and the disappointment that was crushing your heart

                                                      part three

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland au #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #soulmate fanfiction #soulmate fanfic #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland fanfiction #soulmate au #soulmate!tom #soulmate!tom holland #au #au fanfiction #writing #writer #time of dreaming

[someguynamedstevewrites]

My Roommate is an Apparition: An Apparition A-Pink-ciation of Culture

Based on characters created by @reddpenn

From the diary of Lily:

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

When I was little, I used to talk to my stuffed animals all the time.  They were my soft, cuddly friends who were always there for me, and even though they never spoke a word, I always imagined I could hear what they wanted to say.  Even as an adult, I still treat inanimate objects like they’re people too.  In fact, everyone does at some point or another in their adult life.  Anyone who has ever argued with their car that refused to start knows what I mean.

But recently, I realized that sometimes people can do... well the opposite. That sometimes we don’t treat people (who are actual, real people) like they’re people.  It’s not something we consciously think about, but it’s more like we forget that, well, people are people.  I know this sounds really dumb, but I felt like I needed to write about this after a... well after an “argument” I had with my roommate.

I’ve lived with my roommate for a few months now, and I thought I had gotten to know them pretty well.   They like to watch cartoons (like, seriously LOVES them) and we had worked out a TV viewing schedule to make sure that we got along together.  But the other day, I realized that I wasn’t necessarily treating them like they were their own person.  I didn’t mean to do that, but it just kind of happened, and...

...well it gets really complicated because, technically, they aren’t a person.

I mean, they aren’t human; they’re an apparition.

It made me think about all those stories about monsters and ghosts.  Like a ghost used to be human, but then they died, and their spirit became a ghost.  Do we still treat the ghost like the person they were when they were alive?  Outside of a few exceptions, the answer’s a definite yes.

But what about an apparition? It’s kind of like a ghost, but it’s not. I mean, it’s not the soul of someone who died or anything. They just sort of exist. (Would Slimer from Ghostbusters be an apparition or a ghost?).

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

So anyway, reason I’m bringing this all up is because of what happened last weekend. I was channel surfing through the Cable Guide and as I’m flipping through, I pass by Boomerang (you know, the cable channel that spun-off Cartoon Network to hold all the older cartoons?) and all of a sudden, my roommate appears out of nowhere (literally) and practically grabs the remote out from my hands.

“Hey! What gives!?” I say to them.

They immediately change over to Boomerang and my TV screen is suddenly filled up with the color pink. At the same time, my roommate starts “doot-ing” along with the song and goes, “Doo-Doot! Doo-Doot! Do-Doot-Do-Doot-Do-Doot Do-Doot-De-Dooooooooo-Doo-Doo-Doo-Doo-Doooot”. I have no idea what they’re doing, but then the cartoon starts up and it’s the Pink Panther.

Rhetorically, I go, “What’s this?”

“Pink... Panther...” my roomie says.

And then I make my first mistake by saying, “Huh. Never seen it before.”

Now if I had been paying attention to them, I probably would have seen the face of shock they were making. “You... NEVER... saw it!?” They gasped.

“Nope. Must have been before my time,” which was totally true. I mean, I later found out my Dad used to watch it when he was a kid. It wasn’t on TV when I was growing up. (Why am I defending myself for not watching a specific cartoon?)

Anyway, roomie asks, “Watch... with me?”

And then I, being a total dumbass, say, “Nah. Think I’ll get some dishes in,” before getting up and walking away.

If I had stayed put for just a few seconds longer, I would have heard them asking, “...please?” (In case you’re wondering, they told me about that later.)

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

Yes, I hurt its feelings.  Yes, it was insensitive.  Yes, I am sorry.  But like I said, the thought didn’t even cross my mind back then.  As far as I knew, as long as my roommate had their cartoons, they were happy.  It didn’t occur to me that they cared about anything other than the cartoons themselves.

For the next week, my roommate made sure I knew, now and forever, that this was not true.

My first clue that they were mad at me was later that evening when I went to the living room to watch my usual shows.   It was my turn on the TV, and usually I have to pry my roommate away so I can watch what I want to watch. But that night, the instant I walked into the room, they changed the channel to what I wanted, put the remote down on the couch, and left the room without saying a word.  I thanked them, plopped myself down, and went straight into couch potato mode.

This should have thrown so many red flags in my head, but for some reason, it didn’t.  Maybe I was being too self-absorbed at the time? Maybe I was just tired and thinking, “Aww man, I gotta work tomorrow!”?  No matter the excuse, mistakes were made, and I started paying for them the very next morning.

My “haunting” kicked off with waking up to find most of my rock collection missing.  I have a particular affinity for pretty rocks and gems (I’m kind of a rock nerd) and have my favorites out on display.  But that morning, the only rocks that I could see were the pink ones.  Someone had pilfered almost every pebble from every pedestal to perturb me.   (I saw a chance for alliteration and took it! So sue me!)  I was still waking up and too tired to care about it at the time (me making excuses again) and had work, so I got ready to go and left.

Now I’m not sure how they did it, but my roommate did something to my car radio.   I turn it on and all I get are tunes by Henry Mancini.  Fifty percent of the time, it was the Pink Panther theme, twenty-five percent was the theme from A Shot In The Dark (I had to use Soundhound to figure out that one), and the rest was a mix of some of his other work.   It didn’t matter what station I tried changing it to!  Although I did learn that Mancini composed Baby Elephant Walk, so that’s something.

By now, I’d already figured out what was going on (roommate did it), but couldn’t really do anything about it because I still had work to go to.   As if the daily grind working at an art supply store wasn’t hard enough, I had to work while having the dang Pink Panther theme stuck in my head all day.  Not even the music that played over the store radio could get rid of it.  (Given the quote un-quote “music” they play over the speaker system, I eventually considered it a good thing.)

Then I came home, and that’s when things REALLY escalated.  First words out of my mouth after I walked in was, “Hey, I’m hoooOOOOOLY~!”  Every single wall in the apartment, from the living room, to the kitchen, to the bedroom, and even the bathroom...

PINK!

All of them were painted PINK!

Like strawberry frosted doughnut pink!

As I’m gawking at the interior design sugar rush nightmare, out walks my roommate from around the corner.  Immediately, the first thing I noticed was that they had feet. (Normally, they don’t have feet; they just kind of “hover” or “emerge from the ground” or something.) They had their eyes closed, head held up, and made a point of showing off these noodle legs they had constructed by skipping every other three steps.

They were doing the Pink Panther shuffle.

They walk out of my line of sight and I run over to have a word with them, but by then they disappeared.  I look around and all I see is more and more pink.  From behind me, I hear a mix of snickering slash wheezing.  Like you ever hear of this cartoon dog named Muttley?  They were laughing like him.  And of course, I turn around, and the only thing I see is more pink!

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

I knew that my roommate could be ornery at times, like that time I tried to get an idea of their daily routine by setting up a webcam, but this...

I mean, where did she even get the paint?  (Upon reading back here, I realized I referred to them as a ‘she’ even though I’m not sure if they are a ‘she’ or not.  Yeah, I can edit it to a more neutral pronoun, but something tells me I ought to point this out instead of editing it, for some reason.)

I was half tempted to get back at them by painting the walls back to their original color (they do sell paint by the gallon where I work, and I get the employee discount), but realized they’d just paint(?) the walls pink again.  Like I’d turn around after thinking I finished only to find the work I did completely undone.  I could just picture my roommate doing that and finding it hysterical.

Anyway, tacky as the pink walls were, I didn’t get too angry about them.  For starters, my lease agreement said that I couldn’t paint the walls without landlord approval.  But my lease agreement also acknowledges that my apartment may be haunted.  If the landlord ever brought it up, I’d just tell them the “ghost” did it.  Second, these pranks my roommate was pulling were kind of amusing and didn’t really bother me that much.  (I mean sure, I wanted my rock collection back but I doubted my roommate would have thrown them away.  They know how much they mean to me.)

The one thing I was putting my foot down on was that I wasn’t going to ask my roommate what was wrong.  I got the hint, sure, but I wanted them to know that if something is bothering them, they need to, y’know, actually say something instead of leaving spooky pink clues.  They were being a butt, and my hope was that when they saw how much the pink wasn’t bothering me, then they’d finally open up.  This went on for about a week with me going about my daily routine only to be surprised by the occasional pink interruption.

Like on Wednesday, I go to the fridge to get something to drink, and all I find in there is Pink Lemonade.  It actually wasn’t that bad, but I have no idea how my roommate actually got it given that they never leave the apartment.  Thursday, I get a notification saying a package arrived, and find my roommate used my debit card to order the entire Pink Panther cartoon series on DVD.  And earlier on Tuesday, I got a call from my landlord asking if I knew why someone had called in an order, in their name, to have Owens Corning insulation installed.  In case you weren’t aware, that’s the pink insulation who has “you can guess who” as their mascot.

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

So, Friday rolls around, and by now, the entire apartment is pink.  Like EVERYTHING.  The furniture, the electronics, the toilet, the sink, the appliances, the TV, and everything in between has been made pink somehow.  I’m not sure who out there still makes pink toilet paper, but apparently my roommate has either some special powers I don’t know about yet, or they got connections.

At this point, since my roommate had yet to approach me about “The Pink-ening”, I began playing the reverse-psychology card.  I came home and got to making dinner.  While some of this was a bit more expensive than what I usually spend on food, I figured it was worth it if it meant getting my roommate to talk to me.  My menu included delicious smoked pink salmon, some crab linguine with a nice amount of pink to it for a side dish, and some mashed red potatoes that turn out nice and pink if you got the right recipe.  To wash it down, I picked up a glass of pink lemonade from the fridge, and in the freezer, some strawberry sorbet.

I get down to eating at my pink table, with a pink wooden chair, pink napkins, pink silverware, pink glass of pink lemonade.  It took a little more effort to put this together, but I made an exaggerated point of showing off how good this pink meal was and how much I was just enjoying all this pink.

About halfway into my meal, I get a feeling that someone’s standing behind me.  It’s hard to put into words how you know someone’s there especially since my roommate doesn’t really eat or breath.  It’s like the hairs on the back of your neck become sensitive like cat whiskers and can just... feel that someone’s there.  Usually sends a chill down my spine when that happens, but this time, I was ready and waiting for it.

“Care to join me for dinner?” I say without turning around.  If I had, they probably would have vanished on me again like they had been doing all week.

“Looks... good...” they say in their ever so familiar by now raspy voice.

“Got something you want to talk about?” I ask between bites.  There’s a brief pause as my roommate thinks to themselves.

“...yes,” they finally answer.

“Okay.  Pull up a chair!  It’s been a while since we just, y’know, talked and stuff,” which was true.  

The instant I said that, I realized that even before the “week of pink” began, we hadn’t spent a whole lot of time together outside of our usual TV time.  I had long since figured out that my roommate wanted me to watch Pink Panther with them, but I just thought they wanted to show it to me to show off how (subjectively) good the cartoon was.  Only then did it hit me that they wanted me to watch it with them because they wanted to watch it together with me.  It was like they were hoping for some roommate bonding time or something like that.

Now, it wasn’t like we weren’t talking to each other before this.  I greeted them whenever I saw them, and let them know whenever I came home or was leaving. but we hadn’t actually talked, like... “talk-talk” in a few weeks.  Instead, the conversations over the last few weeks were like the kind of conversations a person would have with their pet cat or pet dog.  Like you’d talk to them, but not really expect an answer from them.

I had been treating her like a pet more than a person.  (Did it again!  I’m thinking I’ll ask them later what kind of pronouns they’d like me to use, or if they’ve even given any thought towards gender or anything).

My guess is that my roommate picked up on this themselves, and just like a disobedient pet who is bored, lonely, or other, they made a mess of the place.  Maybe they were thinking that if I was going to treat them like a pet, they would act like one too?

Of course, I didn’t mean to treat them like that.  I don’t think anyone really does mean it when they do.  It just kind of happens without thinking about it.  The whole reason I’m writing this down here in you, diary, is so that I can make a mental note slash reminder to be careful of doing that kind of thing.  It’s especially important to remember when interacting with other people, like my co-workers or the store customers.  (Unlike my roommate, they can’t get on my case by making my entire apartment pink.)

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

Now where was I?  Oh yeah, our talk.  I think I remember the most important bits of it.  It went something like:

“So, whaddya wanna talk about?” I ask between bites of food.

“Pink...” they say to me.  I wait a moment, expecting them to say “panther” after that, but it when it doesn’t arrive, I step in.

“Yeah!  Pretty amazing what you did with the place!  I didn’t know things could even get this pink!” which was one-hundred percent true.

“...Thank...you...” they say with a smile.  I can tell that was not the answer they were expecting as I could have swore they turned and blushed.  Although I couldn’t tell because of how pink everything else was.

“Although,” I add, “I don’t think the landlord is going to like the apartment being this pink.  If it stays like this, they might kick me out.  And we wouldn’t want that, right?”

Now my roommate, the apparition, actually looks shocked for a moment.  The thought hadn’t entered their head, and for a moment, they looked a little scared.  “N-n-n-no...” they stuttered.

“Well, I’m sure together, we can get this place back to the way it was before the next time they have an apartment inspection.  Whenever that is,” I reassure them.

“Yeah...” my roommate nods.

“Say I got some time off this upcoming weekend.  Want to watch some Pink Panther with me?”  (Oh my God, you should have seen the smile on my roommate’s face when I asked this.)  “I see I have the DVD collection now, apparently,” I say with a wink, “and we can even watch the movies together too.”

“...movies?” they ask.

“Yeah, the Pink Panther was a movie first before it became a cartoon.  It was a live-action movie, but... well some of it’s like a cartoon here and there.  Lots of slapstick comedy that I think you might like.”  They were practically beaming and agreed immediately.  

After Friday’s dinner, we watched some of the cartoons (which are actually pretty funny) and for the upcoming weekend, we’re doing a Pink Panther movie marathon with cartoons mixed in to spice it up.  I also found out that my roommate doesn’t just watch the cartoons, but actually knows a thing or two about them.  Like how Friz Freleng, one of the directors and creative minds behind the original Looney Tunes cartoons, was involved in the Pink Panther’s creation along with a new studio after he left Warner Brothers.  I don’t know how my roommate came to know so much, but it’s pretty cool.

Anyway, I got me some sweet, pink treats to snack on during the movie marathon.  The apartment is still pink as can be, but my roommate said they’ll take care of it once the marathon’s over.  Exactly HOW they plan to take care of it, I have no idea.  Oh well.  No use pinking too hard about it.

(HA!)

#my roommate is an apparition #Tulpa #fanfiction #reddpenn #Pink Panther

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 21: Feckless

Content Warning: Torture, Intense Psychological Warfare, Body Harm, Physical and Emotional Abuse It was just supposed to be getting his money back. That was all he wanted out of the woman. But oh, how quickly it had turned to seeing some of the purest forms of red Esredes was capable of seeing. Being pickpocketed in Ul'dah was to be expected to happen eventually- inconvenient that it occurred while he was trying to get supplies for his family, but just a detour to follow the woman into a more secluded space and request his money back. No big deal. He had his ability to cloak himself with an illusion, and so she didn't see him following her down past that door behind the Miner's guild and into an alley. He watched her begin to count his money with a smile on her face and a whisper of "Oh, yes." Just a common pickpocket. No need to escalate anything. "All right, little lady." He began, the illusion still disguising him, causing the woman to freeze and look around trying to locate his voice. Just to make it worse, he began pacing all around to make it more confusing as he spoke next. "Cute. Real cute little move you pulled back there, but I have places to be and so do you, no? Just give it back without trying anything and I'll leave. I'd rather not have anything unpleasant happen today now." "Who are you and what little move?" The woman hissed and tightened her hold on his gil pouch. "Don't play dumb with me, ma'am. Give me my gil back, please. Just toss it out in front of you." "This? Mine from the start," she retorted as she closed it up and put it away, then dashed past him and tried to run away. Esredes raised his hand up and fired a pink beam at the retreating woman's head without a second thought. The woman cursed sharply and she doubled back as her balance faltered, sliding a dagger out of her pocket to slash at the air. "What the hell are you?" With ease, Esredes moved behind her and rammed his sword handle into her upper back. She grunted and stumbled forward, then fell to the ground, the dagger clattering on the stone a good two feet away. She didn't get much time to struggle to get up before he knelt down and pinned her body under his legs, his sword arm securing her at the back as well. "For fuck's sake, Priya." The woman muttered under her breath as she found herself trapped. "Someone who wanted to mind his own fucking business and ask you nicely not to waste our time." Esredes finally answered her question as he retrieved the gil pouch from her pocket. The woman tried to fight back under his weight, but she was getting nowhere. She lashed a hand out to bat him away from her pocket, but Esredes lengthened his hand to form claws and slashed at it, and she tucked it back inside herself as he pushed down more with his sword. "You know, is it not a rule of thievery to fold it when you've bitten off more than you could chew? You'd do best to learn it." "As if you'd know," she spat out. "Leave me alone; it isn't like you'd need any of it!" "I was completely content to leave you alone before you pickpocketed me, thank you very much. And you don't know anything about me, little lady, so fuck off with that. You're not giving me any incentive to not report you right about now- what did you call yourself? Priya? Pretty name for a vicious little rat," Esredes remarked. "If you've eyes, this city doesn' do handouts." Esredes paused, her reply passing him over. Priya... why did the woman's name sound faintly familiar? Enough to bug him even through his tendency to forget names? It had to mean something, be from somewhere, but he didn't know a lot of people from Ul'dah... But someone he had interacted with a lot recently did, and... Esredes' eyes widened. Yes, it had been Elouan who mentioned that name to him during their most recent therapy session. The name of an ex of his who had beaten him for not making her enough money. Just a common pickpocket. Now she was also the woman who hurt his sunflower. "...Say, you must do this a lot, hm? Trying to get your way into money by any scummy means possible? Do you remember Elouan?" Priya froze at Elouan's name, but soon shifted into a smile that did not ease Esredes in the slightest. "Elouan? Dumber than a rock? What, isn't he dead?" "My gods," Esredes said. So it was true. This was the same woman and not a coincidence. The black heart in his chest pulsed hard, and dark, inky matter quickly spread through his insides. He moved his sword hand up and hit her on the side of the head with its handle. "I thought you were a simple thief, but no, you truly are a disgusting little parasite under there, aren't you? Shut the fuck up about handouts, I know what this city is, but you don't deserve them even if they existed. I show no sympathy towards an exploitative and manipulative abusive little monster like you. Oh, today is not going to be your day, little monster lady." He never did change his other hand back down- in its full display of rough and leathery skin she couldn't see, he wrapped it around her throat and pressed lightly. "Have you any idea how much you have to answer for?" Priya let out a soft noise and struggled much more aggressively now, clawing at the leathery hand with her own. "Hh--Answer? I'm answering to nothing. Call me what you want, I don't care. If you're calling me a monster, what're you?" With no eyes to find, she couldn't make eye contact, but she still shot quite the devilish look. "So he isn't dead, is he? Such a shame; I thought the 'yotes outside of Ul'Dah got him! It wasn't like he was worth much with the bets..." The inky matter only kept spreading. "He's worth far more than your pathetic, greedy little ass will ever be. But you wouldn't know anything about the worth of people because all they are to you is an ends for money, hmm?" He drew a line of blood across her throat. "I should fucking kill you. No one would be around to even notice your corpse or look for you, would they, hmm?" The woman laughed, even despite the pain. "You should? What's stopping--? No, who's stopping you? Elouan? That dumbass? Have you ever seen him come back from a loss down there? Do you know what it's like to not have any gil? Anything?" She spat at him and continued trying to fight, but his grip remained iron. "Shut the fuck up." Esredes ran his blade lightly across her forehead. She moved her hands to the ground and tried propelling herself up, but she couldn't even upset his balance. "To answer your question? Yes, I do. That's no fucking excuse to beat a man up who is willing to mutilate himself and risk his life for a woman who doesn't even consider him above maggots. He loved you because he didn't know better, didn't want to accept the evils of people, and you felt nothing." Her body tensed up and her eyes became even more hostile. "You don't have anything, no, a heart or any redeeming qualities included. You're a street rat who deserves to writhe in filth, because no part of you deserves even a single piece of gil! And to answer your other question?" He decided now was time to flicker back into existence before her eyes, his pupils compressed to slivers and sharp teeth grinning as he leaned in close to her face. "Well, if no one will find the body, I suppose nothing at all is stopping me, hm?" "He wasn't worth it. You're all talk and you still hesitate," she snickered at him. "You're still hesitating because of him, aren't you? Because you're just as weak. He wasn't fit to live long, y'know. Probably still isn't, too." "Oh, I'm not hesitating because I'm weak," Esredes smiled and pressed back hard against her struggle attempt with his sword and body, leaning even further in. "I'm hesitating because you're not getting off that easy after all you've done." He pressed harder on her throat and dug his thumb claw into it harder. "We're only getting started here. No one has made you answer for what you've done to him, and I am so glad we could meet for the occasion, unexpected as it is. Tell me, do you think you look good in red?" There was barely the shape of a creature below him by this point, just red. He ran his claws down her face, he ran his blade down both of her arms, he slapped her, all while taunting her about what a pathetic creature she was. "Get OFF," she soon shouted. "Oh, I'm sorry, you want me off?" His eyes widened for her. "Did you listen when Elouan asked you that, hmm?! Did you stop hitting him for things that were your fucking fault?!" She bit her lip and clenched her fists, shaking. "My fault? Who was the one that lost bets? Who was the one that just had to stop because it was 'too much'? Me? No; it was him!" There was venom in her words, and a lot of it. "One hit wasn't enough for him and you know that, don't you? You have to keep drilling it into his fuckin' head. He couldn't even find his way to the aetheryte even if he was fifteen fulms from the thing!" Esredes almost couldn't believe the things coming out of this rodent's mouth. "You're fucking disgusting. And wrong, on top of that." He hit her with his sword handle again. "No, your problem is that you're an impatient, selfish little aggressive piece of shit. If you actually had an ounce of patience and kindness that wasn't faked to all hell, you'd know the man can listen and learn quite fine if you explain it to him well enough. But you're not capable of that because you're not smart enough for such things and you don't actually bother to learn a thing about how people actually work. Maybe if you had the consideration outside of yourself for it, you wouldn't be stuck here pickpocketing people like a street rat, hm? People don't bend over for vicious worthless scheming selfish lowlives like yourself. You will never get anywhere in life. You cry so fucking much about how you have nothing, but in all your years of exploiting and robbing people, you still have absolutely nothing. I don't think you have anyone to blame but yourself at that point. You will die filthy, worthless, and alone, and no one is going to miss the dirt on the side of the street. Now, how many hits will it take for you to get it into your head, hm?" He punched her once. Twice. Three times. Four times. The last punch managed to make her wheeze, and she shut her eyes. "When is ever enough for you?!" "...enough," she said at last. "Enough!" His fist was raised for another blow, but he grinned at hearing the word out of her. "Ah. She did it. She is capable of having enough." He laughed for a solid few seconds. "For the first time in your life, something is enough. How does it feel, hm?" She wrinkled her nose, and tried to muster one last kick, but couldn't even. She said nothing, reaching up to try and pull his hand off her with trembling hands. Esredes took her hand and held it up by the wrist, staring at it. "Look at it. So weak, so small, so pathetic. If you'd held on to someone like Elouan and actually loved him, he'd protect you from something like this, you know. As is, you're not strong enough to protect or help yourself alone. And you never will be. You're a cold, vulnerable little lady in a harsh world, and your only response is to make it so your own existence has no justification for itself."

He wasn't done. He wasn't anywhere near done yet. He kept on going, tearing into her with more wounds. He even took his little pair of scissors he used to cut his emergency supply of gauze and cut away at her hair.  She kept helplessly trying to fight back, kept trying to scream at him to stop or go away. "I'm not going anywhere yet, little lady." He eventually said, grinning as he ran a clawed finger down her face. It was gentle enough not to draw blood, and she shivered under it. "Because I am your nightmare, I am the harbinger that comes for naughty little ladies who need to be a taught a lesson about the cruelty of their own heart." He then slapped her again, and continued cutting her hair. "You want to be a cruel and heartless beast to people who don't deserve it? Well, tell me, is it worth it? Is it worth it to sit here trapped in a reflection of your own cruelty and be content to bleed out in the darkness?" "Why should I talk about worth with you?" The venom and bite of her words had gone; she no longer had the energy for it, it seemed. It wasn’t long before she even started producing tears in her eyes. "Aww," Esredes said in a low, mocking voice. "Does the beast want to cry now? Cry like you made Elouan do countless times? It didn't mean a damn thing to you. Your tears are nothing to me." “I don’t care,” she said in a low and rough voice. "Don't care about you 'n what you say." "Then why are you crying?" "I'm not crying." Tears were treading down her cheeks. "Lady, look at your own goddamn face. You can't even hold it in. Is this too much for the poor little snake to handle, hmm? You're breaking this easily? And to think, Elouan survived multiple beatings from you, and you can't even handle this. Who's supposed to be the weak one again?" "Just shut up!" She croaked in a broken voice. "Shut up! This is pointless! Leave me alone. You've got what you wanted. You've gotten more than what you wanted already," even when she shut her eyes, the tears did not stop. "This is not enough." Venom dripped into his voice. "This is nothing to what you did to him. You can wish for it to stop all you want, but that never helped him, and it's not going to help you, either. Cry all you want, it only makes this all the sweeter. You get everything that you deserve." "He's just another pet of the sands, don't you see?“ The woman said through her shaky voice. "I thought I'd be better with more than what the trade offered. I couldn't start off without--without that." "And? And? That gives you free reign to crush his heart and body for not doing every little thing perfectly for you? When this man was willing to give you all of his love and torment himself far too much for you? You know, pickpocketing a man with a voice like mine? Fair enough, I know what city I walked into. But that? That as your excuse to be cruel in pursuit of money? No. No. Here, little lady. Answer me one little thing. Do you do all of this alone, in the true sense? Do you ever have a person to your name who isn't a tool you discard?" She finally opened her eyes again, staring at her hair on the ground. "Alone? Why'd I do it with anyone else? We're all just tools for anyone else to use--you either climb the ladder or get stuck in the lion's den. He was--he was too fuckin' much! His whining, his talking, his forgetfulness. All I wanted was gil for myself 'n business. Not the thing behind it." It wasn’t every day Esredes held true evil in his hands, trapped in his talons like a snake to an eagle. But hearing her twisted explanation only further caused his heart to rage in hatred. "Good. Fucking. Lord." He said. "People like you are the kind I despise the most. Your entire philosophy is so fucking stupid at its core, and all of you claim it's the most intelligent thing ever. I'll tell you a little story. I too have had absolutely nothing at multiple points in my life." On he went snipping her hair as he talked. "Do you know how you get away from having absolutely nothing? Yes, you have to have sharp skills of self reliance and the ability to climb out yourself, but you can only get so far on your own. You need, and I mean truly need, other people in order to truly build yourself up past a certain point. This is why types like you either never make it or end up dead eventually when someone else brings you down. You only make your own life harder by approaching people so selfishly without anything to add to it. People will see right through you, they'll tear you apart without sympathy or mercy, because you don't offer anything to last with people beyond the short term. If you don't blow everything in the short term with other people, and they aren't people like you, you get rewarded for being good to them. People are more willing to help you out of bad situations without you needing to do a thing because they remember when you were there for them, therefore becoming much more viable and sustainable than a one time deal you blow and suffer the consequences. You really think the world is going to bend to your greedy little will because you want money? No. It won't. It doesn't fucking care, and you know this. Lady, I don't know why I have to be the one telling you this with how smart you think you are, but here's a simple lesson on how people work. People talk. People complain. People forget things. People are not perfect little devices for you to drain gil out of, they are incomplete and flawed things trying their best. And people aren't very useful if you can't follow the basic law of economics and make a fair trade. You'd think growing up here, you'd understand this. Now, my point is, I was alone with nothing. And now? I have enough that you don't want to know the number of people who fear me, little lady. I didn't get this way by draining gil out of people like a vampire. I had to give something of myself, I had to sacrifice, I had to bleed for other people first, but people don't forget what you do for them, or to them. Each person you meet is a powerful weapon in their own right, a valuable resource beyond just money they make. And only a fool would discard such power. You're just a weak, stupid little thief who will never make it because you don't even understand what it takes to get out of your situation. You'll forever be in the den because you fall off the ladder every single time. There is a place to be vicious, there is a place to be kind. But you wouldn't know the difference if it held you down and punched you repeatedly in the face. I truly hope you never make it in life. The world doesn't need more people like you. Your kind can only drain the world of its resources and make it a worse place, all while declaring that the world is the evil one. Well have you ever fucking thought of being something that isn't so deserving of the world's evils? Because here you are now, bleeding out and crying, while Elouan is somewhere safe, having escaped, and is much happier because he's with people who appreciate his kindness for what it is. You have nothing for others to see. No one will ever lift you up off of here, because you'll never, ever deserve it." The woman laid there and absorbed his verbal blows, still too weak to fight back in any way. Tears still streamed down her face. "So what if I don't deserve it? I don't care. I don't care, I don't want to care, I just--" "You just what, lady? What is it? What is it you want to scream out right about now?" Priya gritted her teeth and out came a strangled cry. "--I don't want to be here. I don't want people around me or in m'life. I don't want anyone close to me! I don't want to be hurt like I've hurt them. I just want to be.  Be dead? Fuckin' fine, do it already!“ "Is that seriously all you want from life? To be alone with money?" "What else? Money can't hurt me like they could." "Wow." Esredes said. "Just wow. You know, popular sayings exist for a reason. People who are alone with money are some of the people most likely to drink themselves or take drugs into dying. I grew up in Ishgard. Everyone in the noble circle has money and guess what? We're all still fucking miserable and want to die, broken empty shells of people. People still treat you like trash and shit no matter how nice you look and how perfectly polite your tone is. You still die empty and unfulfilled and ultimately meaningless. ...But you know this in some capacity, don't you?" He leaned down close to her face again, and she shut her eyes. "Is it not just because you want this to stop that you keep trying to taunt me into ending you, hmm? Are you sick enough of festering in your own shallow existence that you want to just spare the world the burden of you?" “You already know the answer, don’t you? I’ve got nothin’ to my name or kin! Why keep me around if that’s all I have, aye?” "Exactly. There's no reason at all." He smiled. "If I gave you your dagger back, would you be able to do it, hmm?" Priya kept sniffling. She opened her eyes and they landed on her dagger, past the scraps of her hair. "It'd be the one good thing you ever do in your life." He continued on. "You'd finally give back to the world, as your corpse decays and the nutrients can be absorbed to go to things more deserving of them..." “Stop talking,” she mumbled yet again. But Esredes only grinned. "Just think about it. No more waking up in pursuit of your empty desires. No more pickpocketing and feeding on scraps. Just the sweet embrace of nothing washing over you, finally an end to all the suffering. You won't be weak anymore. You won't have to feed for more, and more, and more... you will finally have enough." “I said stop.” "You'll never make it. So why keep trying? You're not smart enough to make it, you're not clever enough. You don't have what it takes. All you'll ever do is prolong your own agony, stuck in the same cycle, over and over and over... is that really a worthwhile existence?" “Stop it! Stop talking! I’ve enough of this and, gods, just stop.” The woman managed to shout, but it so quickly became shaky, weak, and small once more. "You keep telling me to stop because you know I'm right. You just don't want to admit it." He took the final strands of her hair and positioned the scissors around them. "One moment, you're here, writhing in your own filth, and the next..." Snip. She hissed. "Release. Catharsis. Nothing." He held the hair out to her to look at. "See, you have a golden opportunity. No one cares about you. No one will notice if you die. You have no burdens tying you down to this earthy plane, you can release yourself like a balloon and fly. Wouldn't that be so wonderful, to see the sky...?" “I won’t see shite,” she retorted with certainty, stretching her arm to try and reach the dagger, only for Esredes to move it further away with a rock. "Alas," he said. "If you do it later, I won't stop you- but for right now, it's not time yet.” He threw the hair to scatter about the tunnel. “All this talk for not yet? Bullshite!” "You're not deserving of a quick death, dearest. No one with a heart as cold and empty as yours is." It would still be some time before he finally let her go. Tied up and unable to escape the tunnel with that pouch of opioids on her- a perfect trapped creature for the local authorities of Ul’dah to pick up. It was not enough. He couldn’t make it enough no matter how little he held back, and he knew it. Nothing would make up for what she did to his beloved Elouan. He would never completely understand the local parasites of the world that pretended to be human like her. Why were they all so content to live a destructive life focused only on themselves? Were they so wrapped up in themselves they couldn’t notice how boring they were, how little and shallow of an existence it was? They would go on, intimidating or charming those around them to feed their selfish empire- but at their core, they were weak nothings, and Esredes saw them for what they were. “Sorry, it was very crowded at the market today. I couldn’t get everything.” Esredes said to his parents later. “I’ll get it all in the morning before I leave. It should be much easier to navigate…” ——— @shieldbcund Priya, Elouan

#writing #in action #villain aesthetic #elouan #ffxivwrite2021 #screenshots

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

Another Life

Hi guys!! So, I mentioned in the last chapter of TPWP that I had a short-ish one shot about IshiMondo following Mondo murdering Chihiro in the canon universe. I will warn y’all that this... this is a sad fic. If I were posting this on AO3 (which I will, eventually, I think) there would be the Major Character Death warning, so... yeah. 

Anyway. I just wanted to say something real quick before getting onto the fic. Feel free to skip if you don’t care. But y’all will realize as you read that this is not really my usual style of writing. I tend to prefer to be big on the details and emotion, since that sort of thing is what interests me most. This story, though, is more... barebones. I’m telling more than showing, and there is one main reason for this. This fic... it’s sad, but if I wrote in my usual style, it would be devastating. For me, at least. I got the idea for this fic months ago, maybe even before TPWP, just a quick “I wonder what an interaction between Mondo and Taka would be like after Mondo killed Chihiro would be like.” 

I immediately dismissed the idea once I went down the path and realized how sad it would be, though. I love writing angst, right? I don’t think I’ve ever written a single story without some measure of angst or sadness. It’s just... what I do, ya know? But the one thing I cannot stand is hopelessness. It’s why I don’t like Danganronpa much, since it’s such a hopeless story, even if some of the students get out. It’s hopeless, and more than that, it’s pointless. The death and all that. There’s no reason for it at all, and I just... I hate stories like that, with no hope of a true happy ending. And this idea... it ends kind of hopelessly. I hate that sort of thing. 

But I couldn’t stop thinking of this story. It kept coming back, again and again, and eventually... I caved and knew I had to do something. So I wrote this. I swear, it was supposed to be short! Just 1,000-2,000 words that explained the idea, to get it off my mind. I’d have posted it here and been like “hey guys, see this weird idea I had??? Man, wouldn’t it be crazy if I wrote this???” But then! I started putting more details in, like I always do. And then dialogue showed up. And by the time I finished my first writing session and went off to work, sending the story from my phone to my computer to check the word count, I had written over 6,000 words. And I wasn’t even done. Only then did I realize... this was a fic, dear god. Not my usual kind of fic, but... a fic nonetheless. I finished writing it then, and then went back to add some more detail to the first 6,000 words to make it at least a little like a fic.

Now, I know this was a long explanation, but I just... I’m anxious about this fic. It’s been on my mind for ages and I don’t know if I like the style. I oddly think it fits the story, though, given how messed up Mondo would be after what he did, so there is that. But I just... if y’all could please let me know what you think, I would appreciate it. I do plan on posting this to AO3 and FF . net eventually, but having feedback would help, if y’all wouldn’t mind. If y’all like this style of writing... I may be able to get more ideas out without taking months to write the whole thing. It doesn’t preclude me from writing full fics eventually, but it allows me to get more ideas out. So just... let me know, yeah? 

.

Anyway! Here’s the fic! The main warning is that there is a major character death, since this, ya know... follows canon. It follows Mondo’s POV, and there is very mild sexual content. More referenced than truly shown, but it is there. 

Enjoy! 

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Another Life

 Summary: Mondo finds himself outside of Taka’s room following the events in the boy’s changing room, his head a mess and heart even worse. While he knows he doesn’t deserve it, he finds comfort in Taka’s arms anyway.

  Mondo finds himself leaving the exercise slash changing room in a daze, his body having rearranged the furniture to respect- respect Chihiro and his gender on autopilot, his head a complete mess and feeling so incredibly sick. He has always hated himself, more so after what happened with his brother, but he is positive he has never hated himself more than he currently does, the phantom sensation of bright pink blood staining his hands lingering, even though he has scrubbed them clean a dozen times. 

 In his distraction, he finds himself meandering through the halls without any real idea of what he’s doing, where he’s going, his brain not quite registering what he’d done, his mind wanting to reject it even as he knows he’d done it. While he has always hated himself and his tendency for violence and anger, he’d once never seen himself as the kind of person who could murder anyone, especially not someone smaller and weaker than him. Not even when he was at his angriest and wanted to hurt someone desperately. And he doesn’t know how to handle the reality of what he just did. 

 While walking aimlessly, he realizes that he somehow has found himself back in the dorm hallway, stomach clenched and angry, wanting to throw up but doing all he can to not do so. He tries to force his feet to walk over to where his dorm room is, but finds his legs won’t let him, his mind warring with his body. He is exhausted, has never felt so tired, but he doesn’t know if he can stay in that room by himself all night long. He... he truly doesn’t. 

 It takes him a minute, but he eventually realizes that he’s been standing outside Taka’s room for several long minutes, just staring at the little depiction of the kid on the door, staring like his life depends on it. For the first time since- since, he... he feels something. Anything. He has no idea what that something is, but... but...

 Before he can tell himself not to, his hand is rising and ringing the doorbell, once, twice, three times, before falling back to his side dully, hating himself somehow even more for likely waking Taka, but not knowing what else to do. What even is he supposed to do, now? After... after...

 A few moments pass and Mondo is just about to bail and leave Taka alone, forever, when the door opens, a sleepy but still overly concerned looking Taka standing there, taking Mondo’s breath away. The kid is wearing his sleep clothes, a white and ragged undershirt and a pair of white briefs, nothing else. Mondo has seen Taka naked before, since Taka had insisted that they ‘bare themselves to each other’ a few days before, but somehow... somehow this seems even more intimate. Seeing Taka wearing so few clothes, all sleep warm and scraggly haired, and… and…

 He gets jolted from his thoughts when Taka hesitantly and yet still earnestly asks if he’s alright, inviting him inside without a single thought, not a single care for his own safety or- or anything. 

 For some reason, that angers Mondo greatly. And while he does find himself entering the room, his legs forcing him forward despite himself, he can’t help but yell at Taka, his frustration at all of it coming out. He snarls at the kid, low and angry, asking him why the hell he would ever open his door for anyone during this stupid ‘game,’ let alone let them into his room in the middle of the night, his fear and frustration coming out in a way he doesn’t want, doesn’t want at all. 

 Rather than get angry, though, Taka just stares at Mondo with wide eyes as he rants, and when Mondo is finally done, his exhaustion overcoming him again, Taka... Taka calmly and confusedly replies that he only opened the door because he could see through the peephole that it was Mondo, saying quite earnestly that he trusts Mondo completely and knows he has nothing to fear from him. His guileless and innocent words make Mondo feel disgusting, the reality of what he’d just done hitting him, and he finds himself getting angry again despite how tired he is. 

 He yells at Taka again, then, words that he doesn’t even register but that just burst out anyway, all his anger and frustration releasing from him as he rants. Taka just lets him, a small frown on his face, but when Mondo starts saying that he is a monster and only a goddamn, fuckin’ monster, Christ, Taka apparently has enough and marches over to Mondo, ignoring the deadly (and scared) glare that Mondo gives him in warning. And then... then, Taka places his hands on Mondo’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eye, a small and yet encouraging smile on his lips as his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm and trust, destroying Mondo entirely. Fuck...

 “That is untrue, kyoudai! I used to think you were only a criminal and a no-good biker, but I have seen the best of you this last week and I know that you are more than that! So much more! You are kind, and caring, and gentle, and very, very good! I know I have nothing to fear from you, kyoudai, no matter what! I understand you have self-esteem issues, my dearest kyoudai, but you needn’t worry! I trust you and always will! I promise! A man’s promise!” 

 The words utterly destroy Mondo, his insides clenching and breaking and hurting, and he wants to cry but he knows he can’t, he doesn’t have the right, not after what he had done. But he can’t help the way his stomach lurches at the earnest look Taka gives him, his heart beating fast, and he knows exactly what it is he feels for Taka. Has known from the moment he set eyes on him in the main hall, so much at odds considering their respective talents, but it was so clear to him even despite that. He never has felt anything like this for anyone, certainly not so soon after meeting them, but... but he does. He most definitely, truly does. 

 At the time, he had even had an absent thought of how Taka just seemed so familiar to him. How— even though he knows they’d never met before; he’d most certainly remember a person like Taka— it was like he knew him intimately somehow. He’d tried pushing it away, especially considering the twisted game they were being forced to play, but he’d never been able to fully push the feeling inside him away. And when they’d had their sauna battle and became kyoudai, he knew he couldn’t deny how he felt for Taka any longer, even though it had only been a couple of short, stressful weeks that they’d ‘known’ each other. 

 But... as stressed out and scared and terrified as Mondo currently feels, he can’t help the desire that rises inside him, looking into Taka’s wide and trusting eyes. Part of Mondo wants to destroy that trust, to break Taka and prove to him that Mondo is just a monster that doesn’t deserve anything good, but he finds he just can’t, the thought of it breaking him more than he’s ever been broken before. And when he sees Taka’s eyes dart down to his lips after several long minutes of staring into one another’s eyes, Taka’s lips parting on a shaky breath... Mondo’s slim hold on himself breaks. 

 Leaning forward, Mondo kisses Taka angrily, firmly, somehow finding a way to hate himself even more for doing such a thing when he sure as hell does not deserve it, not after what he did. And yet, despite his anger, and self-hatred, and pain, pain, pain, he quickly finds himself softening the kiss, since— even with how angry and scared he is— he doesn’t want to hurt Taka. Not now. Not ever. 

 Taka doesn’t kiss back, though, not even after several long, long moments. It’s just as Mondo is pulling back, heart pounding and breaking and aching, thinking he’s ruined everything and that Taka will finally see how much of a monster he is, will hate him, fuck, Taka...

 Taka lets out a soft noise, the sound not at all something Mondo can decipher, before he kisses back. Messy, and clumsy, and clearly inexperienced, but Mondo sure as hell doesn’t care. Not one single, goddamn bit. Not when Taka is as enthusiastic and passionate as ever, his lack of experience getting more than made up for by his enthusiasm and passion. 

 Mondo finds himself walking Taka backwards, Taka following willingly, trustingly, until Taka’s back is pressed against the wall, Mondo kissing him like his life depends on it. And, in a way, he thinks desperately that it does. It truly, truly does. 

 Because he knows. Right? What’s going to happen in the morning. That someone will find the body and a goddamn trial will begin, and while Mondo had done all he could to cover his tracks, he knows he’s not the smartest person and that there are likely so many fucking things he missed that a smarter and more capable person would have noticed. And he knows that... that if they don’t, that if no one notices and they accuse wrong and Mondo doesn’t get- get executed, then... then the whole class will. And that includes... includes...

 Taka pulls back from the kiss first, and Mondo is terrified that it’s because he somehow knows what Mondo did and that he’s disgusted by him, that he hates him, oh god. But before he can utter anything, any apologies he doesn’t deserve or sorrow he shouldn’t be allowed to feel, he feels Taka’s hand gently touch his cheek, wiping away the tears that he hadn’t felt begin to fall. Taka is looking at him with such gentle concern that it breaks him again, and he wants to destroy everything, wants to scream, and rage, and cry, but Taka is talking before he can, and Mondo can do nothing more than listen, desperate and aching. 

 “Mondo... it’s okay, kyoudai, really! Do not cry, I... I wanted to do that. Very, very much! ... I do not know how to explain it, but from the moment I met you, I knew there was more to you than meets the eye. I... I have felt, er... things for you since that very moment! Things I’ve never... never felt for anyone else... aha. B-but please, kyoudai, do not cry! It... it’s okay, Mondo. I promise. I guarantee it! We will get out of here, you’ll see! No one would ever actually kill over something as silly as a secret, and then that darn bear will see that we will never do as he asks, and then we will be free! All of us, kyoudai. N-no one else will die and then we... w-we can be together! If you... i-if you would want that, a-aha...” 

 Mondo feels broken again at Taka’s enthusiastic words, despising himself as he sees how earnestly Taka believes this, even still, even after having learned that one classmate had tried to kill the other, only to get killed herself. Even after being forced to watch as another classmate got pummeled to death by baseballs, and another skewered by spears. 

 Mondo has a moment to despair for Taka and his trusting nature, and he wants so badly to yell. To scream at Taka and ask him what the hell his problem is, ask him why he is being so delusional, but he finds that he... he just can’t. And as he looks deeper into Taka’s eyes, as he looks closer than he’s ever looked into anyone before, he... he sees that Taka isn’t entirely being truthful. He can see the fear that is swirling within him, can see the lie that is in his words, even if Taka doesn’t allow himself to see it. 

 And he realizes... he realizes that, while Taka may be naive, may be trusting… he does know what is happening, in some regard. But... but he is doing all he can to pretend that it’s okay. That this will all end up okay. This is just- just his way of coping, telling himself lies that it will be okay, even though part of him knows that it won’t. Knows that... that there is a very real possibility that he will just... die here. 

 A reality that Mondo suddenly knows will happen to himself come morning. 

 Because... because, if he doesn’t get found out... if he doesn’t get accused properly by the class, if the trial goes in his favor... then Taka will die, Taka and the rest of their class, and that idea is suddenly so wrong to Mondo. That... that Mondo should survive at the expense of their class. At the expense of Taka. He...

 He doesn’t know. If he’d be able to confess himself, be an active participant in his own death. While he’s always tried so hard to be strong and brave, he’s plagued by the truth that he’s not, not really. Not at all. But he knows he can’t let Taka die because of his mistake. His murder. And in that moment... he knows. No matter what, he will die the next day. That day, really, it’s so late. As he looks into Taka’s eyes, seeing the hidden fear that lurks within them, the terror and anguish the boy tries so hard to hide... he knows. 

 And he knows that he doesn’t want to die without knowing what Taka feels like. God... 

 Surging forward, Mondo kisses Taka again, desperate and needy and full of pain, but so good, too. And Taka kisses back, just as desperate, just as needy, making noises that drives Mondo out of his goddamn mind, but he doesn’t stop. He feels himself lifting the thin undershirt Taka is wearing, tossing it over his shoulder as he lets his hands explore the warm and smooth expanse of Taka’s chest. He feels hard, harder than he’s ever felt before, and he wants so, so bad. He presses his hips to Taka’s and moans when he feels an answering hardness, Taka letting out a small shout at the feeling. He knows that Taka is enjoying himself, knows that the boy wants it too, which is why he feels so confused when Taka pulls back, his eyes wide, shaking his head slightly. 

 Taka then says how they shouldn’t, that it’s improper, that they’re not technically even dating. He insinuates that he wants to wait until they get out before they do things, which upsets Mondo, since he knows that that won’t happen, no matter what Taka is deluding himself to believe. But Mondo... Mondo can’t find it in him to burst Taka’s bubble, not when it’s his last night on earth. The last time he’ll get to spend with Taka. Yeah, he really, really wants to go all the way with Taka, to not die a fucking virgin, but he also doesn’t want to pressure Taka. He doesn’t deserve it, anyway. Not after what he did. 

 So, Mondo nods, reluctantly, wondering if he should just go or not. If it wouldn’t be better to just... leave now and not hurt Taka anymore. 

 But then Taka is smiling at him, grabbing his hand, and... and then Taka is kissing him. It’s awkward and clumsy, the boy clearly not knowing what he’s doing, but it’s so endearing to Mondo that he can’t help the warm chuckle he lets out, even if it’s a bit watery. Taka pulls back with a small pout, looking a little annoyed, and Mondo fixes that by grinning brightly, stuffing down the fear inside him, and kissing Taka properly. Taka just lets out a happy sound, annoyance forgotten, and returns the favor in kind, enthusiastic as ever. 

 Mondo loses himself in the sensation and is a bit shocked to find— several minutes later— that at some point the two of them have migrated over to the bed, lips not parting for a single second. Mondo doesn’t mind at all, though, and finds that he can’t help how he pushes Taka down onto it gently, muttering promises that he won’t go too far, he swears. Taka nods absently at the words, seeming too far gone to even care anymore, but anytime Mondo’s hands accidentally wander too far south, he can feel Taka jolt, which reminds him to keep this PG. It still feels incredible to press down onto Taka as he kisses him, though, knowing then that there is nothing else he ever, ever wants to do in life. 

 Sometime later— Mondo has no idea how long since time has never meant less to him— he and Taka find themselves lounging together on the bed, Taka’s head on his bare chest, Mondo’s duster and tank top having been discarded at some point. Taka is drawing absent designs on Mondo’s chest, humming happily. Mondo is holding onto Taka tightly, his fear and terror running rampant through him, but it’s manageable when he’s holding Taka so close. 

 At some point, Mondo manages to let out the words that have been building inside him since he- he did that, his weakness and fear voiced at last. 

 “I’m scared, Taka,” he finds himself muttering, closing his eyes, breathing deeply and evenly. “So... so fuckin’ scared. K-know ya think we’re gonna get outta here, that no one is gonna- gonna fuckin’ kill anymore, but... I dunno. Yer so fuckin’ good, man. Believin’ the best in people, but I... I ain’t like that. An’ I... s-shit. I’m so fuckin’ terrified that I’m gonna die. I don’t... I don’t wanna die, man. I... I...”

 Mondo begins to cry then, hating himself yet again for it, but Taka doesn’t judge him. He just shushes him softly, pulling him close, shifting them so that Mondo’s head is on Taka’s chest now. Mondo’s hair had fallen out of his pompadour at some point, his eyeliner smudged off, and he’s never felt weaker, but somehow... somehow, he doesn’t mind. Not when Taka is there, shushing him softly, kissing his forehead tenderly, eyes soft and caring. He can feel how Taka is shaking, knows that he’s also scared, but damn if Taka lets that be known. Mondo has a moment to think that Taka is probably the strongest person he’s ever met, heart aching, before Taka is speaking. Soft and shaking, but still so incredibly determined. 

 “You won’t, kyoudai. N-neither will I. We... we will both make it out of this, you’ll see! You and me. Me and- and you. We will get out and we will spend the rest of our lives together. We will finish school and then we will go to university, and I will get a job in politics while you- y-you get a job wherever you would like. We will get married and have children, if we want, and pets, and... and we... we will... we will be happy, kyoudai. Happy. And... and together. I- I promise, kyoudai... Mondo. I... I promise...” 

 Mondo can hear the way Taka’s voice tremors, can hear the uncertainty and the doubt even despite the confident words, but in that moment... in that moment, he just doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if that’s actually possible or not. He doesn’t care if he and Taka can have that; if he deserves to have that. He just... he doesn’t care. 

 Instead, he smiles. It’s small at first, but it gets wider and wider the more time that passes, and soon he is laughing. It’s brittle and fragile, but it’s more than he thought he’d ever have, after... well. After what he’d done. He lifts himself off Taka’s chest and looks down at him with liquid soft eyes, smiling with all the love in his heart. 

 And in that moment... he knows. Knows that he wants that. A life. With Taka. And- and had this whole thing not happened... had they met in better circumstances, better times… they could have had that. A life. A love. Him and Taka; Taka and him. Together forever. He loves Taka, truly and fully, and there is no one on this earth he can imagine ever loving more. And maybe it’s the desperation of the situation, maybe it’s not actually real, but he... he wishes that it could be. Real. That they could have discovered together if it could have been real.

 (And in some part of him, deep, deep inside... he knows that it is. He doesn’t believe in reincarnation or things like that, but he knows that this is not the first time he has met Taka. The first time he has fallen in love with him. He doesn’t know what that means, but it’s such a strong belief inside him that he can’t find it in him to contradict it. Not at all. Not even a little.)

 And then... while Mondo really wants to be closer to Taka— to feel him, in every sense of the word— he respects Taka’s wishes and keeps his hands to himself. And instead, he... he finds himself talking. He’s still leaning up on his arms, looking down at Taka, while he continues the story Taka had created. Of their life together. He mentions that he would become a carpenter, fixing and creating things rather than always breaking them. That they would live in a shitty apartment that is broken down and crappy at first, but that they would eventually make enough that Mondo would be able to build them a house, large and perfect, built exactly for them and the family they will have. He mentions that they will adopt at least two kids, a boy and a girl, though he wouldn’t mind more. Says that he will spoil them all rotten and do everything he can to ensure that they will never know the hardships that either of them has faced. He talks about the dogs they will own, and the cats too, and other animals, all the animals, their home full and bright and happy, and...

 And Taka continues when Mondo’s voice breaks, saying that Taka will start a garden outside, one that he will tend to when he’s not working on his campaign. He will grow fruits and vegetables and herbs that he will use in his cooking, since he apparently enjoys cooking and baking and things like that. He will also grow flowers and other ‘useless’ plants, just because he thinks they look nice, their house full of color and life at all hours. 

 Mondo finds his voice again and talks about how he would want to start a charity, something to help kids who grow up in rough neighborhoods, giving them options in life other than street gangs and crime. He talks about how his brother always wanted to do that kind of thing, and that he wants to do it in his stead. His voice gets thick again, but it’s okay, because then Taka is leaning up and kissing him, so he doesn’t have to talk anymore anyway. 

 Mondo has no idea what time it is when they pull back, Mondo shifting them again so that they are facing one another, arms around each other as they cuddle close together. He knows it’s late, thinks it might almost be time for that bear’s fucking morning announcement, but he doesn’t let it get to him. He just holds Taka closer, imagining the life that they created together, a life that could have been theirs— would have been theirs— if only... if only. 

 At some point they start kissing again, Mondo not knowing who starts it but not really caring. The kiss starts lazy and slow, but is soon getting heated again, Taka’s hands wandering all over his chest, driving Mondo crazy. Eventually Mondo has to grab Taka’s hands desperately in his own when they travel too far south, Mondo letting out a desperate noise as he whispers hoarsely that if Taka doesn’t wanna go farther than this tonight, then they should prolly stop. 

 To his absolute shock, Taka gets a concentrated look on his face, like he’s thinking deeply about something, and then... then...

 Taka takes his hands back from Mondo, and then...

 Mondo lets out a strangled curse when he feels Taka’s hand brush against him down there, Taka blushing bright red but looking as determined as ever. Mondo asks him softly what he’s doing, heart racing, and Taka grows even brighter red, but he doesn’t back down. He just hums, softly, and looks Mondo in the eye. 

 “I... I do not know, kyoudai. I just... I want... hm. I’ve never. Um. Wanted. Not before. But I... with you... hm. I-it is improper, I know, a-and we don’t have to- we... we have time, I know, but... but I...” 

 Mondo stares at Taka with wide, wonder filled eyes as Taka trembles, his hardness pressing against Mondo’s as they mold themselves to the other’s body. Part of Mondo feels nervous about what Taka is saying. Thinks that he should deny him, should say that Taka should wait, if he wants. But the bigger part of him... the part that knows the future they made up is just that, made up... the part that knows that they both will not make it out of this alive, since Mondo fucked that up already... 

 It can’t quite find it in him to deny it. Not when he knows this is the only chance he will ever get. Ever. 

 And so... he kisses Taka again. Deep, meaningful. And he lets his hands wander. Taka lets out noises, enthusiastic and happy, but desperate, too. Needy. And Mondo thinks he knows why. Knows that Taka knows. That this isn’t okay. That neither of them is okay, but fuck, will they pretend they are. 

 As he slowly pulls down Taka’s briefs, doing his best to not psych himself out, he has a moment to think about how familiar this all feels to him. He’s never done anything like this with anyone, certainly not Taka, but as he grabs Taka in hand, listening as Taka lets out a loud shout, desperate and needy and fuck, he... he knows this is not the first time this has happened. He doesn’t know how he knows, but... but he does. Somehow, that thought comforts him. Greatly. 

 And when he feels Taka’s hands hesitantly touch him, trail over his body, and hesitantly remove his pants and his boxers, Taka trembling but oh so passionate and determined still... he wishes— not for the first time— that none of this had ever happened. That he’d never come to Hope’s Peak, that Taka had never come to Hope’s Peak. And he doesn’t wish that they’d never met, fuck he doesn’t wish that, but... but maybe they could have met somewhere else. Taka had mentioned once that his father is a police officer. Maybe... maybe they could have met during one of the times when Mondo was inevitably arrested, Taka visiting his father and seeing Mondo, but not feeling afraid, not at all. Maybe Taka would have spoken to Mondo, then, earnest as ever. Maybe he would have offered to help Mondo out, to help him leave his life of crime and settle into a good, meaningful life. And Mondo knows that if that had actually happened in real life, he’d have punched the kid’s lights out, but in this fantasy... in this fantasy, he accepts, and Taka smiles so beautifully at him, and they find a way to have their happy ending. Without this nightmare, without the threat of death looming over them even as they touch one another so softly, so gently, the first time they’ve ever done this but also not. 

 He pushes the thoughts aside as he gears up the courage to grab himself and Taka in hand together, Taka moaning loudly, Mondo moaning as well. Part of Mondo wants to go further, wants to take all of Taka, but he finds he can’t. Not when he knows what is going to happen in a few short hours. Not when... well. Not when. 

 But he allows himself this. Allows himself and Taka to build up a steady rhythm together, Taka practically sobbing as Mondo holds him close, shushing him even as he feels like he’s about to fall apart himself. He doesn’t know why Taka is crying, if he’s just overwhelmed or if he, too, realizes what this is. That this isn’t the first in a long line of times they will do things like this, but that it... it’s a goodbye, Mondo’s way of holding a part of Taka, even as he lets him go.

 Mondo doesn’t know what will happen in the trial, but as he holds onto Taka so desperately, he knows he will not be winning. He still is so afraid, doesn’t know if he will be brave enough to do what he knows he must, but... but he also knows he can’t be the reason Taka dies. He honestly would rather die than do that. It’s comforting to realize, in the oddest, strangest of ways. Death is so much easier to digest when he places it in the context of saving the man that he loves. And he does. Love him. So, so much...

 Eventually Mondo feels himself getting close, and feels that Taka is getting close too, so he allows himself to whisper into Taka’s ear. Whisper all the soft and gentle words he has kept hidden inside his heart his entire life, the words he’s always had to hide in order to survive the rough and dangerous lifestyle he was always forced to lead. He whispers how amazing Taka is, how Mondo is constantly astonished by how good and kind Taka is, how Taka is prolly the best person he has ever met. He whispers that he knows Taka will change the world, that he will be the best of all of them. That he already is. 

 And he... he whispers how much he loves him. How he knows it’s too soon to say shit like that, but that he- he means it. He also whispers his sneaking suspicion that this was not the first time they met, that he’s loved Taka far longer than just a handful of stressful, terrifying weeks, that they... that they belong together in a way that is intrinsic inside them both. 

 And while part of him is embarrassed by the words, thinking himself a weak and pathetic sap, the majority of him can’t find it in him to care. Not when Taka is letting out a shout, cumming against him while a few tears leak out of the corner of his eyes. And Mondo... Mondo is cumming not long after, collapsing on top of Taka, breath heaving as he rests, doing his best to not crush the love of his fucking life. 

 But Taka doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t seem to care at all, not when he leans up and whispers in Mondo’s ear. Voice shaking and trembling but still, always, endlessly determined. He whispers how he feels the same, that Mondo is the best person he has ever met. How, despite his gruff and harsh exterior, Taka has never met someone so kind and caring before. How he loves Mondo, too, more than he would ever think possible, certainly not after such a short amount of time. And how he, too, has the weird feeling that this was not the first time they’ve met, the first time they’ve fallen in love. 

 Taka asks him, then— voice small and trembling— if Mondo believes in reincarnation. If he thinks that... that they’ve lived a life together before, and that this is just them meeting up again. And that... that they will meet up again one day, in another life, far from Hope’s Peak and killing games and death that is both senseless and cruel. And Mondo doesn’t know, has never believed in an afterlife at all, but as he pulls back and looks down at Taka’s face, the boy looking so desperate and terrified, he... he can’t help how he smiles. And laughs. And leans down, kissing Taka again, the millionth time even if it really shouldn’t be. And he...

 He nods. He agrees. He says that yes, he does. He does believe in reincarnation and that they- they will find each other one day. Should they... well. Well. That one way or another, they will have their happy ending. He promises. He... he promises...

 He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed by the sappy words, the desperation he knows is plain in his words and eyes. He knows it’s getting so fucking late, knows that the fucking announcement will come soon and that the body will be discovered soon after, but... but he doesn’t want to leave. Never. Never. Never. He doesn’t want to think too much, doesn’t want to think about what will happen in a few short hours. Doesn’t want to let this one small piece of happiness he’s found get ruined because he couldn’t handle being fucking soft. 

 And so, he doesn’t. Doesn’t ruin it. He just lays down on his side, next to Taka, and pulls him close. They are naked, bodily fluids drying unpleasantly on their skin, but Mondo doesn’t care. He just pulls Taka close and holds him, Taka resting his head against Mondo’s chest again, like earlier, fingers tracing patterns on Mondo’s skin again and again and again. Mondo is exhausted, so tired, but he doesn’t close his eyes. Doesn’t let himself sleep, knowing that this is the first and last time he will ever get to hold Taka like this and wanting so badly to savor it. And- and he knows Taka feels the same. Knows that Taka doesn’t sleep either. And Mondo... Mondo wonders if he suspects. What Mondo did. The reason why Mondo is so scared. He thinks the Ultimate Moral Compass can’t possibly suspect, thinks that Taka would never be willing to be so close to him if he- if he knew— but. But...

 But... when the fucking announcement comes, seven coming way too fast for his own good... when he feels Taka stir sluggishly, the boy clearly not wanting to get up but his sense of duty likely making him... 

 Taka whispers to him. Soft. Gentle. As Mondo takes a washcloth and cleans them up, he hears Taka’s whispered words. And he... he... 

 “Please know, kyoudai, that I... I will always love you. No matter what happens. No matter... n-no matter what happens. Nothing will ever make me love you less. I swear, m-my... my love. I... I promise.” 

 Mondo stares at his kyoudai, heart beating both fast and slow, a contradiction that somehow makes perfect sense to him. He’s exhausted, hasn’t slept a wink all night, but for some reason, he’s not afraid. Oh, he knows he will be. Once the announcement is made that a body has been found. Once everyone is called to the girl’s locker room, once they see the dead body he left lying on the ground beside a splotch of bright pink blood. Then the fear will return. Bright and fierce and terrifying. He will mourn himself, mourn Chihiro, mourn everyone who is trapped in this sick and twisted death game.

 (But not Taka. He- he can’t mourn Taka, can’t let himself believe that this beautiful and wondrous boy will ever, ever die. Even if it’s so fucking likely, since like hell would Taka ever kill anyone. Maybe- maybe he’ll find a way out. Or whoever is keeping them here will realize how twisted they are and let him out. Or- something. Something. Even if it’s too late for Mondo, it won’t be for Taka. He- he knows this. Has to know this.)

 But for now... for now, he doesn’t worry about it. He just... lets himself exist, his heart beating for Taka and Taka alone. He doesn’t let himself think about what will come or what will happen. He just... loves Taka. Plain and simple.  

 So, he smiles. And he nods. And he whispers the same words back, even though it’s not the same, not the same at all. 

 He watches with all the fondness and love in his heart as Taka gets dressed in his ridiculously complicated uniform, aching for what he will never have, and yet yearns for dearly. He’s fighting the fear inside him as hard as he can, but once he is dressed in his clothes from the day before (he doesn’t care, fuck he doesn’t care) and Taka is in his uniform, it’s not like he can help it. The fear. The dread.

 It only gets worse when, right before they are able to leave the room together, they get accosted by Monokuma, who is being all vague and unhelpful, even going so far as to make insinuations about them, but one thing is clear. Something happened. Not that it’s a surprise to Mondo. He... he already knew that. 

 And... it seems Taka did, too. Mondo looks at him, the fear kicked up a hundred-fold, and sees that the kid’s face is a blank mask. Mondo has never seen Taka look so... emotionless before. It makes him nervous, but before he can ask if he’s alright, or maybe try and beg for the forgiveness that he knows he doesn’t deserve, Taka smiles at him. Bright and guileless, with no hint of strain. 

 (Mondo wouldn’t have suspected that Taka could be such a good liar. Perhaps, when it’s important. When it matters. When... when.) 

 “I think we should head to the bath, kyoudai. Before breakfast. I remember you mentioning how much you like morning baths!”

 Mondo stares at Taka for a full minute, heart aching, but Taka doesn’t seem to show he knows anything at all. And yet... Mondo knows he must know something. Taka is so big on rules and order. He is the one who insisted they all meet for breakfast every day. He wouldn’t miss that. Especially not when something clearly has happened. Not when... shit. 

 But Mondo doesn’t deny it. He just nods stiffly, his smile shaky on his lips. Taka smiles brightly back, before marching over to the door, opening it, and exiting quickly. Mondo stares after him for a moment before following, not wanting to waste a single second more. 

 The walk to the bath doesn’t take long and, thankfully, they don’t run into anyone as they make their way over. Once inside, Taka immediately goes to the men’s section of the bathhouse, not saying a word, but his back is loose, not tense. Not like Mondo’s is. 

 Mondo watches as Taka strips, his breath getting taken away as he sees the beautiful boy before him. He only is spurned into motion when Taka looks at him over his shoulder, head tilted curiously. Mondo strips quickly after that, very relieved that there are no security cameras around. He can feel Taka’s bright red eyes watching him as he removes his clothes, heart racing, doing all he can to pretend that this is okay. That this is normal.

 It isn’t. It can’t be, he knows it can’t, but if Taka is doing all he can to pretend, then... then so will he. 

 Taka insists that they quickly rinse off before entering the bath itself, as is polite, and once that is done, they enter the bath together, talking softly about random bullshit, light and easy. They don’t mention what Monokuma insinuated. They don’t mention anything like that at all. They stay close, practically touching, but they don’t do much more than that. Mondo knows that Taka wouldn’t approve, and he doesn’t want to pressure Taka into anything. Not ever. Especially not now.

 After a little while, they exit the bath, dressing in their uniforms again as soon as they are able. They then leave the bathhouse and head to Mondo’s room, since Mondo still has to make himself up. Part of him doesn’t really want to, as tired as he is, but he knows it would be suspicious if he didn’t. Plus... if this is going to be his last day alive (and it will, oh god, it will), then he might as well look presentable. Right? 

 It takes him the usual twenty minutes, during which Taka watches him, his body loose and his eyes soft. They talk again about everything and nothing, and for a moment, Mondo can pretend. Pretend that this is fine. Pretend that he’s okay. Pretend that he hadn’t... h-hadn’t... 

 But then the announcement comes. And his heart sinks. 

 They found the body. God fucking dammit, they found the body. 

 The next hour is a blur to him, Mondo following after an unusually quiet Taka in a daze. Mondo does his best to not show how terrified he is, but he thinks he fails. With Taka, at least. And Taka... Taka doesn’t do anything to show that he’s suspicious. He doesn’t give Mondo any looks, doesn’t frown... doesn’t really do much of anything, really. It makes Mondo feel disgusting inside, but... but he doesn’t know what to do. Goddammit, but he’s only sixteen! He... he didn’t fucking ask for this! Any of this! G-god... f-fuck...

 When he and Taka enter the girl’s locker room, Mondo wonders how he will be able to fake his shock when he feels so dead inside, but the minute he enters... he realizes he won’t have to fake shock. He won’t have to fake anything, really. 

 Because that... that is not how he left Chihiro’s body, holy fucking shit.

 W-what... who... who the fuck did that, he wonders, trying to mask the shock a little, hoping it looks like someone who is appalled at the disgusting way Chihiro is being suspended and not... not. Mondo... Mondo may have killed the dude (oh god), but he sure as shit hadn’t done this disrespectful bullshit. But who... who did...?

 For one split, heart stopping second, he wonders madly if Taka did it. If he... if he did it because he knew, he knew, he... he somehow knew and wanted to try and cover it up, or throw people off Mondo’s scent, or- or... something. Anything. 

 But he quickly dismisses that thought because a) it’s absurd, Taka is too fucking good and moral to do shit like that, b) Taka looks as shocked as all of them, and no matter how good he may be at acting, Mondo knows he’d fucking suck at covering up his own crime, and c) Mondo spent pretty much the entire night with Taka, going straight to his room after- fuck. After. So... definitely not Taka. But then... who...? He doesn’t know, fuck he doesn’t know. He can barely think, feeling so tired and scared and afraid. 

 (He had noticed Taka’s momentary look of relief, though. As soon as they entered. As soon as he saw the body. It had quickly morphed to sorrow and pain, but Mondo had seen the relief when Taka had glanced at him, and Mondo... Mondo thinks he knows why.)

 (After all.)

 (He sure as shit wouldn’t have done that monstrous bullshit to anyone. Least of all Chihiro. Anyone who knows him would know that. He may be a biker [and now a murderer], but he has more honor than that.)

 (And maybe... maybe, with that in mind... he could actually get away with this shit. F-fuck...)

 (Yeah, Taka would die, they’d all die, but... b-but...) 

 Mondo is volunteered to stand guard again with Ogami, the class assuming he’ll do it like he’d done last time, even though he really wants to be anywhere but here. Especially when Taka goes off, eyes determined, saying he’s going to find out who did this and see that they are brought to justice. Seems Taka has stopped suspecting him entirely, then. F-fuck... he can’t leave, though. It would be suspicious, especially since he was the one who volunteered last time. So, he... he doesn’t leave. He just... stays. Stomach sick, hating himself as much as ever, he… he stays. 

 The hour of the investigation is simultaneously the longest and shortest hour of his life. Shortest because he knows this will be the last hour of his life, his fear making time seem like it moves faster than it should. Longest since he’s trapped in the room with his fucking murder victim, forced to see the horrifying way some sick bastard had mangled the poor dude’s body, the worst disgrace in death. He wants to rip the poor dude off the bar, wants to show him the respect he fucking deserves, but he can’t. That detective chick is still observing the body, and if he does that, he will instantly be indicating himself. And- and while... while he knows he will be caught, should be caught, he... 

 He can’t help the goddamn fucking hope that is blooming inside him. The hope that he’ll be free. The hope that he might actually be able to escape this living nightmare. The hope that he... he could...

 Eventually the hour ends, and the class is forced into the goddamn fucking courtroom, and Mondo is forced to listen to the farce of a trial. It gets discovered relatively early who disrespected Chihiro’s body (revealing that fucking Fukawa is Genocide Jack. Or Jill. Or... whatever), but then... then it turns out it was Togami who mangled the dude’s body, for... whatever fucking reason that sick fucker had. Which infuriates the shit out of him, hating Togami almost as much as he hates Monokuma and himself, hating him for being so uncaring about someone being fucking dead. 

 Everyone latches onto the idea that it was Togami, though, even Taka, which shouldn’t relieve Mondo as much as it does, goddamn him, but... but...

 But of course. Fucking Naegi, that goddamn bastard... he has to be suspicious. And Mondo gets it, okay, he does. No one here actually wants to die. But... but he...

 In the end, it was a slip of the tongue. One mistake that will end up costing him his fucking life. He’s never put much thought into the words he says, the strain too frustrating for him to bother with, and it’s fucking fitting that that specific personality flaw is what kills him, in the end. 

 Blue. Fucking... blue. Blue was once a favorite color of his, though red has quickly been replacing it lately. But just... fucking blue. 

 Taka tries to deny it. Mondo thinks that’s what kills him the most. How desperately Taka tries to defend him. Refuting everything Naegi says. Denying it all. But Mondo had seen it, too. The doubt. The way the kid’s eyes had widened when the class caught onto his trail, darting over to Mondo quickly once, then away. The... the fear. The... all of it. Just... all of it. 

 But... but Mondo is tired of lying. He honestly hates lying, it makes his head hurt trying to hold onto so many tangled webs. And he didn’t get any sleep the previous night, anyway, and hasn’t eaten at all. And he’s just... tired. So very, goddamn tired...

 So... he gives up. He gives in. He confesses his truth, the deadly secret that he can’t ever undo, and it... it’s hard. Not even because he knows he’s signing his own death sentence, but because of Taka. Because of the anguish he sees on the kid’s face, tears and snot flowing freely down his beautiful face, not that Taka seems to care. The kid asks him why, and he... it’s the least he can do. To confess. To just... explain. 

 And that hurts, too. All of this just... it hurts. But it’s not a sharp and angry pain. It’s like... pressure. Inside him. He... he killed someone. Someone who had trusted him. Someone who had admired him. He... even if he had survived, he’d never have been able to live with himself. Not in the long run. Especially not if his cowardice led to the death of so many others. Of Taka. He may be a monster, but he... he’s not that much of a monster. 

 So... this was for the better, he thinks, heart aching as that fucking bear reveals his secret anyway, the one he’d been willing to murder to keep safe. He finishes his confession, tells everyone what he did and why, and it… fuck, it’s hard, but it’s the absolute least he can do. He keeps looking at Taka even through the pain, through his final confession, even though Taka cannot look at him. Taka hadn’t voted for Mondo, hadn’t been able to do it, the bear had said. That breaks him even more, honestly. F-fuck...

 And then... before he knows it, it... it’s time. Punishment time. And Mondo... Mondo finds that he’s not as scared as he thought he would be. He apologizes to Taka, the kid looking absolutely destroyed, and it’s not enough. It’s never enough; can’t ever be enough. He has so many words to say, declarations and apologies and promises. In the end, he has time for none of it. But he... he does get one thing in. Other than his apology. Other than... than...

 “See you in the next life, Taka. Hope it ain’t anytime soon.” 

 Mondo isn’t able to hear Taka’s response to that, as he’s too busy getting dragged off by that goddamn fucking bear. He does his best to appear calm as he is chained to the back of a motorcycle, as that goddamn bear sits in the driver’s seat, wearing a mockery of his uniform. His heart is pounding, and he knows this is it. It’s like the moment before his brother pushed him out of the way all over again, but this time... this time there is no last-minute rescue. This time there is no freedom, no release. This time... 

 This time he... he dies.

 But... well. 

 At least he dies on a fucking hog, like he always imagined he would. 

 There’s some measure of comfort in that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: So, that’s the story! I think y’all can kind of see why I didn’t want to write this how I normally write. And I’m sure y’all picked up on this, but yes, them feeling like they knew each other was definitely because of the memory loss. I have a degree in psychology. I learned a ton about memory during school, and one thing is that memory is located in so many places it’s almost impossible to completely lose all of your memory. Even if you lose your episodic memory (your memory of personal events, like birthday parties or what you did last month), you tend to keep your semantic memory (your memory of facts and things, like what the Pythagorean theorem is, or who Napoleon is) as well as some sense memory. Mondo and Taka were totally a Thing before the killing game. I honestly don’t believe in reincarnation, but I think it was comforting to Taka and Mondo to think about. 

(It also would make seeing Alter Ego Mondo so much worse, oof.) 

This story, technically, could fit into canon, I think. I even rewatched Mondo’s death to make sure, and while some things were a bit off, I tried to keep things mostly like in canon. The only real difference was Mondo’s last words to Taka, I think. 

Anyway, I hope y’all liked it! Let me know if you liked the format and maybe I’ll do more things like this to get more ideas out. I have one in the works, tentatively, so we’ll see. Bye! :-D 

#Danganronpa #Kiyotaka Ishimaru #Mondo Owada #Mondo Owada POV #Danganronpa fanfiction #Character death #Another Life #One Shot #My fanfic

[chattingwiththelightkeeper]

This Is Not Fake News Because Fake Submissives Are Real

While there are many posts about fake dominants and the damage they can do, especially to newer submissives, often overlooked in the conversation about false people involved are those who misuse and abuse the role of submissive. While I believe that fake submissives are often less nefarious than their fake dominant brethren, it is a subject that still needs to be addressed especially since like the faux d-types who frequently attempt to prey upon new s-types, these sham submissives typically target newer dominants. With this in mind, I wanted to share some of the bad behaviors I have witnessed from false submissives so that others involved in the lifestyle might be able to recognize their behavior before it can cause damage.

Something that is a hallmark of a D/S relationship is the d and s partners sitting down, discussing, and agreeing on rules/guidelines along with how the s-type will be held accountable (punishment/correction). The fake submissive will often express that they are on board with this but when the rubber meets the road of life when the faux s-type encounters part of the agreed-upon framework that keeps them from getting either their way or what they want, they will simply toss aside this structure to get whatever it is they are needing at the moment. On top of that, when their dominant attempts to hold them accountable for this, the false s-type will flat out refuse the accountability. Just as fake d-types often try to bully a newer submissive with the age-old and craptastic phrase, if you were a real submissive … these phony s-types will do the same by telling the newer dominant that if they were experienced they would see things the way that this s-type does or a real d-type would understand. Simply put these pseudo submissives play on the inexperience of the dominant to get their way.

In almost every post about fake dominants, there will be a discussion about how these individuals use pet names or titles without the consent of the submissive. When it comes to the flip side, the insincere s-type will do the same thing. No matter if it is the fake d or s type, they apply these unconsented titles because they are hoping to wrangle the unsuspecting person to believe they are indeed in a relationship with the manipulative person which then often moves into seeking emotional and/or financial support that has not been earned. Just as new s-types are advised to avoid d-types who are dismissive of the intense meaning of titles and pet names, this needs to be a red flag for anyone involved in the lifestyle regardless of their role.

Now it is time to queue up that famous line from Jerry McGuire, “Show Me The Money” because some of the faux submissives are seeing their dominant not as the leader in the partnership but as a human ATM to fund their fun. It is not that these deceptive s-types have confused daddy dominant with sugar daddy but these folks simply want to pull strings to get their lives paid for. The requests for cash often start small like asking for assistance with their phone bill and take advantage of the dominant’s naivety. Who amoung us has not had a bad week or month where would have been nice to have a little help but without realizing it the dominant will find themselves in a pay-to-play situation. By pay-to-play, the sham submissive only will follow the d-type if they are infusing the s-type’s life with the correct amount of money. These submissives are not billing themselves as requiring payment for their time/attention but will continue to have mounting financial crises requiring more and more supposed help and should the dominant withhold this, these manipulative mortals will often attempt to bully the newer d-type by once again expressing that a true dominant would assist them.

The next warning sign reminds me of the old joke, and you might have to be old to get it but here it goes. Where does the Lone Ranger take his trash? To the dump, to the dump, to the dump dump dump. I do not mean dump in the way I think some reading this might think as I am not talking about relationship termination directly but it is the thrusting of control immediately upon the dominant. This release of control is not done healthily, in my opinion, where D/S relationships work into and up to releasing control over certain things as the relationship progresses but the faux submissive does this instant abdication of control selfishly for two main reasons. First, life is easier when someone takes care of everything often including life’s financial obligations, and secondly, this behavior makes it harder, especially on a newer dominant, to cut ties to end things. The unscrupulous s-type knows that they can take advantage of the newer dominant’s kindness when things inevitably go south by playing the helpless submissive, “How can I go on when you take care of everything for me?” This can make the d-type feel trapped, wanting out, but not wanting to hurt this poor, not so innocent lamb who is so dependent on them. In the words of Admiral Ackbar, “It’s A Trap!” I believe that power exchange is natural to D/S partnerships but this exchange of control happens over time as a relationship builds strength and trust. Just as submissives need to be wary of a d-type who wants it all right now, dominants must be equally as wary of the submissive who relinquishes everything right off the bat.

Perhaps you were too youthful to get my last attempt at humor but please allow me to try again with a lifestyle joke, BDSM is where no means yes and pineapple means stop. So let me start with a few basics. It is mandatory to have consent before play and the acronym that fits nices with consent is FRIES, Freely given, Reversible, Informed, Enthusiastic, and Specific. Additionally, when the stop or red light safeword is used by a partner, play stops immediately. Some deceitful s-types will intentionally misuse their safeword(s) and by misusing them I am speaking specifically about play that has been consented to properly beforehand. The faux submissive is not employing their safeword because they feel uncomfortable, have an issue, or even have the sudden need to use the restroom but they are safewording because they stopped getting what they want. For example, a dominant and submissive sit down, agree on a scene that will include X, Y, and Z but the fraudulent s-type only enjoys X and Y, so when the properly negotiated frolic transitions from Y to Z the so-called submissive safewords simply because they did not want to do Z. I need to express that in a healthy D/S relationship, it is a zillion percent okay for a submissive to stop play with a safeword at any time and for any reason but what is happening with the sham submissive is they misuse safewords so that during playful prancing the only activities that happen are ones the s-type craves. Safeword shenanigans are symbolic of the larger issue that the false submissive is using submission to get only what they want rather than a true partnership where there is a mutual give and take. In a healthy relationship, those involved will do things they do not but their partner does, such as going shopping, watching a film they do not care for but their partner does, and even in play, there are times as well as things that one may not enjoy, they are done because it is a yum for their partner. Just a reminder, the use of a stop safeword means stop even if a d-type has come to realize their submissive is using safewords to manipulate play. There is never a reason to ignore a safeword and should a dominant realize their sweet submissive is misusing submission as well as safewords, the d-type must still stop play and then begin a discussion.

While the bad actors that troll the D/S lifestyle are often mostly assumed to be dastardly dumbinants using their position to take, abuse, and much worse, I wanted to take a moment and shine the light on those on the other side of the slash who are bad actors, the fake submissive. I also want to reiterate that play always needs to be consensual and safewords mean stop immediately but through conversation with newer dominants I have discovered that it is how a faux submissive used their safeword during play that caused that ‘a-ha’ moment when the d-type to realize the deeper issues and the deception the false s-type was using to manipulate. I hope this will be a reminder that wicked people can occupy all roles in the lifestyle.

As with all of my writings, please see this disclaimer.

©TLK2021