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mochatsin · 8 months

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WHEN MC HAS A STALKER

These past few days, you’ve felt like there are eyes following you everywhere you went. Each time you turn back, there’s always nothing behind you. Maybe you were imagining it? But it sure felt real and it’s making you very uneasy. So you go to one of the brothers for help.

TW: Creepy Stalking Behavior, Threats (towards the stalker!!), Implied Torture, Violence

If this kind of stuff makes you uncomfy after reading the tags please skip it! Mostly the violence is reserved for the stalker though uwu)

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Lucifer

You approached him one day while he was in the middle of doing his paperwork. Normally he doesn’t want to be disturbed, but you told him it was important so this was an exception. You explained how you felt like someone had been following you around town and he listened to every word.

There was a look of concern on Lucifer’s face. At first it sounded preposterous but seeing the unease on your face was enough for him to believe you. So he started making the necessary arrangements to make sure you’re never alone at all times.

He basically made a schedule so there’s always one brother with you. Whether it's going to and from school, getting groceries, and other events that require you outside he sees to it that you feel safe and protected.

During one of the festivals, Lucifer paid close attention to you as you went to the booths to play some games and win some prizes. He’s been scanning the crowd ever since you all got here and he’s noticed a certain demon always in the same area as you are. His eyes turned dark when his eyes landed on your stalker.

‘I found you.’

His aura became so intense and menacing but Lucifer didn’t want to cause an uproar and ruin the entire festival, not when you’re having so much fun. He didn’t need to speak any words, but he’s made his threat very known to that demon.

His words echo in the demon’s head, voice full of malice “come near them one more time, I will pluck each of your limbs off you like a petal of a flower…” and it never stopped there. His threats became more violent and grotesque that the demon was practically shaking as they ran away.

Knowing the face of the demon, they can no longer escape Lucifer’s radar. As soon as he can get his claws on them, then punishment will be done accordingly. He would force information as to why this lowlife was following you. Their answer will determine if they get to keep their life or not. But it’s Lucifer’s torture that would decide if it’s still worth keeping.

He turns back to find you running to him with a big grin, holding the prize you worked so hard to get. The smile on your face was a reminder of how your safety should always be his top priority.

“I can assure you that the ‘stalker’ has been properly dealt with. You should never feel unsafe in these streets, MC. As long as you’re with me, I’ll always make sure you feel protected.” Lucifer had his arm around your shoulder, holding you close and letting you enjoy the rest of the festival with him.

You managed to win a matching pair of keychains. It was something so cute that it goes really out of place with Lucifer’s aesthetic. You insisted he use it and well… he can’t really say no to you can’t he?

He never let go of the matching keychain you got him during the event. It’s dangling on his phone while he texts you that he’ll be late for dinner, there’s just some certain things that require his immediate attention.

In fact, he was in the castle’s dungeons with your stalker. After he sends you that text, he turns to the demon chained up “now… where were we?” He grins. Lucifer’s hands were dripping with thick inky blood at the end of the night, the keychain being the only thing on him without blemish and stains.

Mammon

You never had to tell him, Mammon already knows.

When it comes to you, Mammon is aware of everything since he spends the entire day glued to your hip. Any chance he gets, he wants to spend it with you because he’s your first! And since you two have spent more time together than the others, he knows your tells.

For the past few days, mammon felt eyes following the both of you. At first he thought that maybe it’s one of the witches he owed money to that’s been at his tail. Though that feeling goes away when he’s alone.

You’ve been looking uneasy lately and Mammon took notice. You insist that you’re fine, you just get this weird gut feeling that you’re being watched. It finally clicks in his head. It wasn’t Mammon that was being followed, but it was you.

He tries to play it cool, but behind his shades his eyes are filled with irritation. Someone got his eyes on his human, how can anyone expect him to be calm?! Mammon tried to keep a close eye on you afterwards, and he never fails to find excuses to be with you.

“OI! Where have you been? I've been waiting for ya!” “… Mammon I'm in class.” “That ain’t an excuse!!” Those are the kinds of texts you’ve been receiving from Mammon lately.

There was a time you were out to get some supplies for an upcoming event and when Mammon came to look for you, he spotted a demon peering over the corner and staring at you.

In an instant, his hand is by the back of that demon’s neck. “They’re a real treasure, dontcha think so?” Mammon smiles, a kind way too sinister it would send shivers down your spine. “Truly one of a kind, I’d even say priceless…” There’s a slight endearment in his tone when he talks about you, but his grip was getting far too tight.

“If you’re tryna find a chance to get a grab, well you’re out of luck. Because I don’t plan on sharing.” He says between clenched teeth, claws digging a little too deep into skin. He is Greed after all. If he can’t even let his brothers, not even Lucifer, have time with you then he’s not going to be as patient and giving to lesser demons.

And then there’s a sickening SNAP!

You were carrying a box of supplies back to the House of Lamentation, too busy trying to focus on not dropping them to even notice when Mammon came by. He took it off your hands effortlessly and whined at how slow you are.

“Jeez, it’d be faster if I carried it for ya. After this, I’d say we should hit the mall. Dontcha worry, I got a few Grimm on me this time!” He says while proudly holding out a wallet you’ve never seen before. It was definitely not his.

Levi

It came up randomly with Levi. Since the demon was always alone in his room, you asked him if he ever felt like something was watching him, if he’s ever felt eyes always following him.

Levi was bewildered and wondered if you’ve been watching too much horror anime’s because that sounded really creepy. He didn’t think about it much and you dropped the subject as you both continued to play games.

He didn’t completely brush it off though, because sometimes he noticed you looking behind your back whenever you’re both outside together, or when you enter the house.

Levi left you for a moment while he went to check out the latest merch line in one of his usual go-to stores. He was on his way back when he heard the sounds of clicking nearby.

When he turns to one of the alley ways, he finds a demon with a camera at hand as they take pictures of you. You were patiently waiting for Levi to come back as you sat by a bench, unaware of the demon documenting you for reasons unknown.

Just before they could take another picture, Levi’s tail whipped the camera out of their hands and crushed it so easily. “What the hell were you doing?” He snarls, his hand grabbing the stalker by the throat to keep them from running.

He’s never confrontational like his own brothers, but it’s always different when it comes to you. You’re his first friend, his Henry, and being the Avatar of Envy… Levi doesn’t take too kindly to anything or anyone that can take away what’s his.

With a simple Water Creation spell, Levi filled the demon’s lungs. To drown without any body of water… It was a clean and quiet method to get rid of the stalker. His bad mood and irritation was short yet overwhelming that dark clouds appeared in the area.

It started to rain and just when you were about to search your bag for your umbrella when Levi walks up to you with his pink frilly Ruri-chan umbrella.

“Sorry I took too long! There was this stupid normie getting in my way” Levi whined. There’s a hint of color in his cheeks before he speaks, “w-we should share an u-umbrella though! I don't want you to get drenched!” (Even though the rain was his doing)

You agree to share with him, saying that you’re glad he brought an umbrella since you forgot (while you hide yours in your bag). If your shoulders ever slightly brushed together, Levi will start turning as pink as the umbrella in his hand. What would’ve been a storm became a light drizzle with your presence around..

Satan

It happened while you two were reading in his room. Both of you were so focused on your own little worlds until you asked him “how would you know if you’re being followed?” and the question got him concerned.

You tried to play it off as something that’s currently happening to the character in your book, and Satan wanted to pry but he didn’t want to force you for answers directly. So he listens to every word you say whenever you try to explain it while avoiding your name.

He knew it was about you, he can tell from how nervous you looked when he picked you up from the library once. You brushed it aside, but he can never pass this off as nothing. Not when it comes to you.

Satan is always tagging along with you afterwards around school. He never stops making excuses to be next to you and if he can’t be around, then he’ll ask one of his brothers to accompany you in his stead.

There was a time he left you by the table to pick up a book from the shelf that he needs so he can teach you the materials for class better. While he was doing so, he found a demon that’s been staring at your table for quite some time while hiding behind several bookshelves.

Without hesitation, he grabs the demon by the collar and shoves them by the wall before leaning close, fangs bared with the intent to kill. To maim.

“The only reason why I’m not killing you right now is because I don’t want them to see how easy it is for me to rip your throat off your neck. I could gauge out your eyes for following them. For watching them.” And each threat made Satan’s grip on the demon’s neck tighter, but he let them go.

You watched from your chair as a demon started sprinting to the doors outside, as if their life depended on it. Satan appears with his usual smile and a book on his hand “let’s continue studying shall we?”

You never felt those eyes following you again, and Satan made sure of that because after bringing you home from your little study session, he mentions that he forgot to ‘take care’ of something back at the library and will be back late. “Don’t wait up for me MC okay? Get some rest”

He only comes home the next day, with a dark and satisfied smile on his face. ‘I told them it was easy…’ Satan thought to himself as he cleans up the blood off his hands, not a fingernail stained in sight. He always wants to look presentable to you after all.

Asmo

You and Asmo were having a little fashion show in his room since he insists on preparing a perfect outfit in advance for an event at the castle. You couldn’t seem to focus on his clothes and the demon was quick to take notice so he asked what’s so important that you can’t even pay attention to such a beautiful dressed up Asmo.

Taking this chance, you told him that you weren’t feeling very safe whenever you’re outside. It’s like there was someone following you around everywhere you go and you’re not sure what to do about it.

“Darling, are you sure it’s not just my dumb brother Mammon? He can never seem to stay still without you around, maybe it was him” You wanted to say that you doubt it, but you dropped the topic since he didn’t seem to believe you and instead listened to Asmo talk about the latest fashion trends.

Even though Asmo didn’t mean to dismiss it, your words never left his mind. So he decided to keep a low profile today and see for himself. Trying to stay hidden was so hard when it’s part of his nature to stand out but he did his best, and his efforts paid off when he found a demon following you around while you were shopping for clothes.

Thank Diavolo for the shades covering his alluring golden eyes, for they were blazing red with anger. How DARE some creep just follow you around like that shamelessly?!

You went into a store to try out a new outfit in their dressing rooms and before the demon could even follow you any further, their shoulders were grabbed from behind. No one expected someone so high profile as Asmo to be in such a small store like this, and he did not look very happy.

“Lay a single filthy claw on my MC and I will make sure you will never have a private life again. Unless you don’t want to end up as that demoness that disappeared months ago, I’d suggest you leave.” people had rumors about Asmo making a high celebrity disappear after she threatened his precious human, at least this one was smart to run.

Asmo dusted off his hands with disgust written all over his face, as if he held something so unclean, while he watched the demon scram. He reverts back to his happy usual self when you come out of the dressing room, surprised to even see him here.

“MC! Are those the clothes you chose? Oh I bet if you threw in this blazer or maybe these accessories it would look even better!” He’s now filling your cart with more clothes than you intended to buy. Don’t worry, it’s his treat!

Asmo did spoil you a bit too much for today, but that’s his way of apologizing for not believing you about your stalker. Though you did find out about it when he drunkenly admits what he did while you were in the dressing room. Barbatos overheard his little confession and decided to deal with the stalker for you.

Beel

Beel is not too observant, but he’s always the first one to notice if you haven’t been eating enough. He’s heard that humans can lose their appetite (which he finds absurd) if they’re stressed enough, so he turns to ask you if you’re okay.

You know you could be honest with Beel so you tell him everything. You’re feeling uncomfortable wherever you go because you feel that something has been following you but you don’t see anything when you turn around.

By the time you finish your story, Beel has this sad look on his face before he moves to hug you. It’s comforting to be held by this giant with puppy eyes. “I didn’t know this was happening… I'll walk with you to school from now on. Is that okay with you?” And who could say no to him?

He’s always by your side after classes, looming over everyone that dares to come near you like a big guard dog. “MC, that person looks suspicious.” “Beel, that's just my classmate…”

Whenever he’s too busy for Fangol practice, he sends over his twin or any of his brothers to be with you. It doesn’t matter who’s with you because what’s important to Beel is that you’re not alone for a single second.

One day, he asks the brothers for help in practicing his throws for his next Fangol match the park, and you come along to watch Beel as he tosses the ball over to Mammon. Since the second born was the fastest among the brothers, he was in charge of catching the ball for Beel.

It was going fine for the first few throws until he spotted a demon hiding by the trees, their gaze on you while you were cheering for Beel. His eyes darkened and without hesitation, Beel reels his arm back before throwing the Fangol ball with full force. Straight towards the demon.

The amount of force was enough to snap several branches and twigs, and it even ran a hole into a thick tree trunk. The ball missed the demon’s head by a few inches but they knew that they were standing a bit more to the left then it could’ve been their head. Beel did that on purpose, as a warning.

“OI! Beel what the hell is that?!” Mammon yelled but Beel paid no mind to his brother as he stared directly into the stalker’s eyes, full of killing intent. “Next time I won't miss.” He says, and the stalker ran for their life while they still had the luxury of keeping it.

He hears your cheers from the distance, impressed by the strength of his throw and in an instant, all of that murderous intent was gone. He has this happy look on his face while he lets himself enjoy your praises.

It’s only later on after practice did he actually tell Lucifer so that he can deal with it, and you two decide to celebrate with a few snacks and drinks while the oldest was out there torturing the poor demon by the castle’s dungeon.

Belphie

“How long are you planning to lay there like a log…” Belphie murmurs, voice heavy with sleep. He noticed that you haven’t been sleeping, always too lost in thought even when he’s cuddling with you. “What’s keeping you up?”

You tell him about your worries, that for some reason you always feel that there’s something following you wherever you go. Belphie would’ve joked about ghosts, that you were probably haunted or cursed. The dread in your tone is what stopped him and made him take you more seriously.

Belphie put in more effort to try stay up more than usual when he’s with you. He’d play it off as an excuse to spend more time with you, but in reality he was trying to figure out the cause. If he was determined to do something, he would stop at nothing until he gets what he wants. And Belphie wants answers.

Despite his half-open eyes, he was vigilant of his surroundings until he finally was able to figure out where this mysterious presence was coming from. It’s been following you both from the House all the way to RAD from a distance, but the youngest was able to trace the direction. He’s had enough.

The demon continued to stalk you from behind at a safe distance when you were going home, though when they blinked, Belphie appeared in front of them and completely blocked their view.

“Sleep.” He commands as he places a hand over the demon's eyes. In an instant, they fell into a deep slumber with Belhpie’s magic.

In their dream, the demon found themselves chained up in an empty room with Belphegor looming over them. “You’re not waking up until you pay for what you’ve done,” He says with a playful smile. With a swift kick on the leg, the demon’s bones shatters. And then their arm, their other leg… It was an endless nightmare.

The pain was real and agonizing, but their actual body was fine. That nightmare served as a demonstration on what Belphie was willing to do should the demon try something like that again.

Belphie stared down at the demon’s real body that was asleep, looking bored. He knows that the poor thing was being mentally tortured by him in the nightmare, but right now Belphie could care less and left them alone in the dark alleyways.

He has his arms around you as soon as he gets home, asking you how you’ve been doing lately. After you tell him that the weird feeling you’ve felt last week disappeared, Belphie is already dragging you to the nearest bed before you could expound any further.

“If that’s the case then it’s good enough for me. Come on, let’s go take a nap.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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nolita-fairytale · 9 months

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don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | part two: august

summary: you head down to savannah, georgia with syd, sugar, liz, and maya for a not-bachelorette weekend.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 5.5k

a/n: it's finally heeeeere!!! i know i've gotten quite side tracked with my luca fic, but chapter two of don't want to walk alone is finally here thank god. anyways, this is a carmy-lite chapter, but i think this is just as important. enjoy, besties. chapter three is thee wedding, so it may take a while for me to get that one out and honestly, i like taking my time with this one. i have some very fun ideas and yes we will be getting honeymoon smut don't worry. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part one | masterlist | part three

Thursday

“Hey, did Syd go out already?” you hear Natalie ask, causing you to pause what you’re doing.

You’re in the middle of laying out the gifts you’ve brought for your friends for the weekend, as a thank you for coming to Savannah to help you find a wedding dress. You’re not looking for anything extravagant – you are eloping at the courthouse after all – but it felt like a good excuse to get your best friends together for the weekend too. While you’ve spent most of your time planning this trip insisting that it’s not a bachelorette party, it’s certainly beginning to feel like one.

“Just because we’re not doing a big wedding thing doesn’t mean we can’t do a pre-wedding girls’ trip,” you’d explained to Liz and Maya over your group FaceTime.

“Hmmm, sounds a bit like a bachelorette party,” Maya had observed with every intent of provoking you.

“It’s not a bachelorette party!” you had vehemently insisted on the call.

“Sounds a little like one to me,” Liz had added, earning an eye roll from you as you murmured something about the two of them always ganging up on you.

So here you are, deciding that, maybe, you should just lean into it.

While Sydney’s gone to the grocery to do the shopping (something she insisted on doing since you’re both making brunch for tomorrow morning) it’s just you and Nat in the house. You could’ve sworn Nat was on the phone earlier – Pete being the every-worrying, doting husband who hasn’t spent a night away from his wife since she got pregnant.

“Hey, you!” you finally greet her, a broad smile spreading across your face as you turn to see your very pregnant almost-sister-in-law. “Uh… yeah she was going to the grocery store for some things. Need me to text her?”

Natalie shakes her head ‘no,’ before stepping into one of the many rooms that fill the airbnb that you have rented for the weekend.

“Watcha got goin’ on over here?” Nat asks curiously, as she takes a few steps towards you.

“Well,” you sigh, placing the neatly folded set of washable silk PJs down on one of the two twin beds that fill the bedroom that Maya and Liz will be sleeping in. “Just because you’re not technically my bridesmaids doesn’t mean that I can’t get you guys gifts, right?”

Sugar snorts, “Huh. That’s funny.”

“Hm?” you hum in response.

“Soooo many things, especially since you won’t just admit this is your version of a bachelorette party but…” she teases you, pausing before she continues with:

“I mostly came in here because I have a gift for you.

“What? You didn’t have to get me a gift,” you start, watching as Nat presents a gift bag stuffed to the brim with tissue paper.

“I know. But just because you refuse to admit that this is a bachelorette party, doesn’t mean I can’t get you a bridal gift,” she answers, taking a seat on one of the beds as she repeats your own reasoning back to you.

“Fair enough,” you chuckle sitting down on the bed as you accept her gift.

Parting the mountain of tissue paper, you pull a neatly folded article of clothing wrapped in more tissue paper. Gently, you slide the fabric out of its sleeve, revealing a silk lace slip nightgown out of the gift bag.

You gasp, examining the soft, delicate material in your hands.

“Nat, this is-, holy shit. It’s stunning,” you marvel, running your fingers over the creme-colored material.

“I saw it and couldn’t help myself,” she smiles proudly, happy to see that you love it.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper, this time moving your fingers over the black lace trim at the hemline.

“I wanted to give it to you before everyone got here,” she explains softly. “Wear it this weekend. Or for the honeymoon. I don’t know. I saw it and… it just felt like you.”

“Thank you,” you smile, your heart warming as you lean over to give her a hug. She squeezes you back, ecstatic that you love her gift.

“Think Carmy’ll be jealous I didn’t get him anything?” she asks, jokingly, her eyes narrowing.

“Oh, this is a gift for him too,” you’re quick to reply with a smirk.

“Ew!” she glares at you, earning a laugh from you as you defend yourself.

You shrug, “You set yourself up with that one, mama.”

You exchange a look, and a laugh, as Sugar playfully rolls her eyes at the thought of her brother doing anything more explicit than what could be in a PG-rated film.

“How ya doin? How’s my soon-to-be-nephew?” you ask, shifting your body so that you’re facing here even more so now as you change the subject.

“I’m alright,” she sighs, leaning back on her hands behind her. “Second trimester’s been a whole lot better than the first but… this whole pregnancy thing? Wow.”

“Yeah, we are in no hurry,” you empathize, adding a little humor to your sentiment.

“Well, from what I hear, it hasn’t stopped either of you from-,” she begins to tease you and now it’s your turn to say:

“Oh my god, Natalie! Ew!”

You roll your eyes this time, no stranger to the fact that you and Carmy’s sex life has started a rumor or two that’s gotten passed around the restaurant staff like wildfire.

She nudges you playfully, earning another laugh from you before the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, sitting side by side.

Natalie takes a beat, carefully choosing what she wants to say to you, especially since heart to hearts weren’t exactly common for her growing up.

“I also came in here to say…” she begins, her voice softening because she really means it. “I am so glad that he met you – Carmy – that you found each other. And I meant it when I said that I couldn’t wait for us to be sisters.”

The memory of the night you both got violently high together before Sugar got pregnant – the night she first called you her sister-in-law – brings the biggest smile to your face as you laugh.

“You’ve changed his life,” she finishes, the deepest of gratitude coloring the words she says.

You think someone should’ve warned you that getting married would bring up so many goddamn feelings, because you’ve been feeling pretty damn nostalgic and emotional lately too.

With watery eyes, you grab Sugar’s hand, giving it a squeeze as you say, “Nat, he changed mine. He keeps… changing mine.” You pause for a moment wondering when, all of a sudden, you’ve gotten this sappy. “I love Carmen… so much. And… I’m so glad that in loving him… it brought us together too.”

She nods in agreement, as she whispers a tearful ‘yeah,’ giving your hand a squeeze in return before releasing it.

“Jesus Christ. When did we become these people?” you chuckle, shaking your head.

“I have no fucking clue but I’m blaming the pregnancy hormones,” Nat laughs with you.

She pauses once more, and it’s as if she can’t help herself, diving into it again because there’s so much more she wants to say.

“You know, I always wanted a sister…” Natalie starts with a disappointed nod of her head. “I always thought… like, maybe things would’ve been different or something. Mikey and Carmy could do no wrong, you know, but me?”

She lets out another sigh, shifting her sitting position in pursuit of something more comfortable.

“I don’t know… I always wondered what it would be like – to have an ally in it all, a partner in crime – because Mom was Mom… and-. Well, you know. But now with the baby coming, I just can’t picture putting a child through that.”

She takes a beat this time, making sure she’s clear on what she’s trying to communicate to you.

“I think what I’m trying to say is, selfishly, I’m so damn glad Carmy swallowed his pride and called you all those years ago.”

You’re grinning from ear to ear as you listen, agreeing with, “Me fucking too, buddy.”

The sound of the front door is an almost-welcomed interruption as you and Nat exchange a look, the both of you coming to the conclusion that it’s probably Sydney, back from the store.

“Helloooooooo!” you both hear Sydney call out in the empty downstairs area of the airbnb.

“We should probably go. See if Sydney needs our help?” Natalie suggests.

“Yeah,” you reply, standing up from where you’re seated on the bed.

“Nat,” you say, offering a hand to help her up.

She takes it, murmuring a thank you before groaning about her feet. You giggle, but this time, you have one last thing you want to say to her.

“Thank you for the gift… and for what you just told me,” you say, before finishing your thought with, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she replies, a soft smile on her face.

You share a look, and one more moment, before heading downstairs.

“Look who I found!” Sydney squeals, her voice resonating broadly throughout the house.

It’s then that you hear the sounds of luggage being rolled, as Maya goes on about how cute this place is, while Liz, following closely behind exclaims something about how goddamn hot it is outside.

“Oh my god!” you exclaim, leaping over the last few stairs as you crowd both of your New York friends.

It’s an exchange of squeals, how are you’s, how were your trips, and enthusiastic hugs exchanged between old friends.

“Liz, Maya, you remember Natalie, right?” you introduce, as Nat gives both of your friends a small wave.

While Liz and Maya have met Sydney multiple times (including a few trips to New York Sydney’s taken by herself), you know your two best friends have only met Sugar once or twice when visiting you in Chicago.

“Yes, Carmy’s sister!” Liz says, her eyes lighting up with recognition.

“Yes,” Nat nods, confirming the statement.

“Well, come on in! I’ll show you up to your room so you can put your stuff down and whatnot,” you encourage, ushering the both of them upstairs as Natalie asks if Syd needs help unloading the car.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here!” Maya exclaims, excitedly.

“In Savannah… That you two idiots somehow figured it out and are getting married,” Liz continues, adding clarity around the very layered statement.

You laugh, “Listen, you and I both, sister.”

You show both Liz and Maya to their shared room as the three of you catch up about the flight here, shared exclamations about how stoked you are for the weekend, about how much you were all in need of a good vacation anyways. As you watch your best friends set their things down and begin to settle in, it feels surreal.

Like you and Carmy’s last trip to New York, it feels as if your worlds are once again colliding – two sets of friends from two very different chapters of your life as you approach a new one.

Friday

Your not-bachelorette brunch menu goes as follows:

Syd’s famous potato chip omelet, a vanilla bean yogurt with Liz’s favorite homemade granola recipe, made last night before bed, bacon you’re frying up in a cast iron pan that belongs to the stocked rental kitchen, and one of Liz’s favorite mocktails because, yes,

“You’re making us go for a hike?!” Maya exclaims. “In this heat? In this humidity?!”

“I thought you were… on your whole SoulCycle kick,” you’re quick to reply.

“Yeah, because it’s indoors,” she emphasizes with a sigh of defeat.

“Thank god you didn’t get your hair done for this, babe,” Liz teases her friend, earning a ‘seconded’ from Maya.

“Oh my god! I forgot that we both love SouCycle!” Sugar chimes in, simultaneously.

“Add it to the list,” Maya replies, because she and Nat have gotten quite chummy over the last 12 hours.

After ordering pizza last night, Maya and Nat had promptly curled up in a corner of the couch with a glass of wine for Maya, and an non-alcoholic cocktail for Nat, and spent almost two uninterrupted hours of realizing that they had way too much in common to not become instant-besties.

“So let me get this straight. It’s your bachelorette party and-,” Maya begins, straightening up on the barstool that lines the other side of the breakfast bar.

“It’s not a bachelorette party, it’s just a girls’ weekend,” you and Syd say in unison, you more insistent while Syd simply recites the words as that you’ve droned on about again and again.

“And we’re not going out?” Maya asks, unamused by your lack of enthusiasm.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you shrug, careless for the idea of going out this weekend.

“What about the strippers?!” Maya exclaims, a little louder this time, sending all of you into a fit of giggles.

“What strippers?!” Syd exclaims.

“Listen, I’m not against strippers…” you laugh with a shake of your head. “...but I just wanted this weekend to be about getting my favorite people together and looking for a dress. YOU are the one who called it a bachelorette party.”

“You’ll have to excuse Maya. It’s been a while since she’s had a weekend away from full-time mom duty,” Liz teases her, as the two of you share a knowing look.

“Not to mention full-time work! And full-time wife-ing,” Maya adds insistently. “I’m ready to shake my ass!”

You and Sugar both snort with laughter and Syd snickers again, plating her final omelet.

“And while she’s somehow the first one of us to settle down, she’s also always been the biggest party animal of the both of us,” you continue, picking up where Liz left off.

“See, this is what you have to look forward to,” Syd jokes, directing her comment to Nat. “The both of you.”

“Oh shut up,” she quips back, playfully.

You shrug, before offering to help Syd distribute her stunningly plated omelets to the kitchen table that Liz has already set.

“Tell us what you made today,” you joke, doing your best Padma Lakshmi impression, as if Sydney were a contestant on Top Chef.

Sydney laughs, while the rest of the girls take their seats, standing at the head of the table as she takes your invitation to roleplay a little too seriously:

“So this… is a potato chip omelet with boursin cheese inspired by our very own Natalie Berzatto.”

“You’re amazing,” Natalie coos, because she truly cannot get enough of this omelet.

“This looks incredible,” Maya compliments, admiring the neatly shaped French omelet.

“And the potato chips are fucking genius,” Liz marvels, simultaneously.

“Something I started making at the restaurant just for Nat since, you know, it kinda hits all the cravings. It’s salty. It’s filling. You know you got a little texture going on with the chips. Aaaaand I’m starving so let’s end this Top Chef cosplay right now and eat,” Syd says, earning a laugh and statements of agreement from the rest of you as she rushes to the last empty chair.

You spend the morning enjoying breakfast before ushering everyone out to the car for your hike. Insistent on heading out there before it gets too hot, you decide it’s probably best to go before noon. As you head out to the Skidaway Island State Park trail, the fact that you friends are finally all together in one room begins to hit you. While Nat and Maya have hit it off over their love for SoulCycle, how strange pregnancy cravings are, and their mutual adoration for Maggie Rogers, you smile to yourself while you listen to Sydney and Liz dissect the most recent season of Love Island.

And despite the few yet passionate protestations, the hiking trail really isn’t all that bad. The five of you spend about an hour out there, hanging out a little longer along the boardwalk, before heading back into town for lunch, and then home for showers and some downtime. Tonight’s game plan is to get all dressed up (sort of) then head to Mashama Bailey’s restaurant, The Grey.

You take some time (and a nap) to yourself this afternoon, knowing that everyone else has taken some time to read, catch up a little, or just hang out. As you awaken from your nap, you flip through your phone for a bit, and, you think to yourself, it feels really damn good to slow down.

You decide to call Carmy, Facetime-ing him as you remain snuggled up in the airbnb bed. It takes a few rings before Carmy answers, his hair wild, dressed in his chef whites.

“Hey, babe,” Carmy smiles, as soon as your face appears on his phone screen. “It’s good to hear from you.”

“You too. I’m glad you picked up,” you reply, a lightness in your voice that only comes with vacation-you.

“How’s my girl doing?” he asks you, adoration in his eyes.

You hum happily in response, stretching a little in your bed.

“She’s great. But she misses you,” you answer, soaking in how much you love when he calls you his girl. “The trip’s been great so far, baby. We went for a hike this morning and uh, well, everyone’s really hit it off. Pretty sure Nat and Maya have become best friends now.”

“Uh oh.”

“Oh come on,” you chuckle, snuggling deeper into the duvet. “You know Maya’s always been your biggest fan.”

“Yeah,” he nods softly, because he does know that, for whatever reason, she’s always been his biggest advocate.

“But how are you? How’s Aioli? What am I missing?” you ask your future husband.

“We’re good. And Aioli is still the most spoiled cat in the Greater Chicago area. Not much to report here. Just taking a smoke break before dinner service,” he answers with a shrug.

“What’re you up to?”

“Just waking up from a nap,” you reply with a yawn, your disheveled bedhead more of a turnon then Carmy will admit. “And we’re going to The Grey later.”

“Mashama’s place?”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna get all dressed up?” he asks, his interest piquing.

“Yeah, I think we are,” you reply, the conversation taking a slightly flirtier turn as you add, “Don’t worry. I’ll send pictures.”

With a shy look on his face, Carmy returns with a:

“Oh shit. Well, let me know how it is. The restaurant.”

“I’ll report back,” you assure him. “You know… maybe we can come back here together. Another time.”

Carmy hums in response, barely able to wrap his head around the idea of a vacation. It’s not like you’d never been on one together, but no matter how many steps he takes back, how much he’s learned he’s allowed to (sometimes) slowdown, the unshakeable fear of falling behind hangs over his head. He’s learning, getting better at it, and you’ve helped, but it somehow always still feels a little unsettling at first.

You can see that Carmy’s mind is running a mile a minute, so you decide to cut to the chase as you say:

“I just… wanted to call and see what was up. Tell you I was thinking about you, babe.”

He smiles softly.

“Yeah,” he exhales. “I’m thinking about you too.”

He waits a beat before following up with:

“I’m always thinking about you.”

“I love you, Bear,” you whisper, a smile on your lips.

“I love you too,” he says back, and you swear Apple has installed a filter on FaceTime with how vibrant and blue his eyes are as he looks at you.

The knock at your bedroom door grabs your attention, your eyes shifting immediately to where the door hangs slightly open.

“Hey, I heard you were up,” Sydney says, poking her head in. “Can I come in?”

“Oh my god! Yeah, of course. I’m just on the phone with Carmy. Wanna come say hi?” you encourage, waving her your way.

“Sure!” she grins, quick to hop onto the bed, settling down right next to where you lay.

“Great. It’s like you never left Chicago,” Carmy groans dryly, as Sydney snuggles in.

“Whatever. You miss us,” Sydney shoots back with a playful eye roll.

Carmy’s become no stranger to getting kicked out of his own bed when Sydney comes over – you and her taking it over to watch a movie or giggle while watching TikTok videos for hours on end. Most days he’s so glad that you found a friend in each other, while other days, he’d very much like his bed back.

“Well, babe. I won’t keep you. I’ll see you Sunday?” Carmy asks, more than happy to let you spend time with your friends.

“See ya Sunday, honey,” you reply before ending the call.

You toss your phone on your bed with a sigh as Sydney fake vomits at your sickeningly sweet goodbye.

“Did you nap?” she asks you.

“Dude I passed the fuck out,” you reply, enthusiastically.

“I don’t know how you do it. Like, I think I’ve seen you sleep in…” she starts, trying to pull together a rough guesstimate in her head of how many times she’s seen you nap in a public place. “... more places than I can count.”

“OH! I have not forgotten about your little… photo album,” you remind her, in reference to the photo collection of you sleeping that she has of you. “I’m begging you to release this photo album AT our wedding brunch.”

And you’re only half-joking about it.

“Did you get a nap in?”

“Nah.”

You take another breath as you and Sydney lay next to each other, settling into a comfortable quiet as you reflect on the moment you had with Sugar yesterday, suddenly consumed with an immense amount of gratitude for her and Sydney’s presence in your life.

“Shit…” you exhale.

“What’s up?” Sydney asks you, turning her head to look over at you this time.

“Somebody should’ve warned me that getting married would like… bring up all these extra feelings about… literally everything,” you admit, your eyes fixed to the patterns on the popcorn ceiling above you.

“Oh god,” she groans. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

“God no!” you snort, reassuring her that you just finished your period.

You and Sydney exchange another laugh, and a look of mutual affection, before returning your gazes back to the ceiling.

“You wanna… talk about it?” Sydney asks, carefully.

It’s not that you and Sydney don’t do the heavy stuff together, but she’s become one of your best friend because she makes you laugh harder than anyone ever has, so it always feels different – foreign in a way – when you have these moments together.

Your friendship with Syd is lighter. It’s laugh until your abs hurt kind of lighter.

But you know she’s here for all the rest of it too.

“Uh… sure,” you answer, as you share what’s on your mind. “I’ve just been so nostalgic lately. Just thinking about… you know… me and Carmy’s relationship. The life I’ve built with him. You guys….”

“Ew,” she jokes, her face twisting into an expression of repulsion.

“I know,” you groan, unable to stifle the life that escapes your lips.

“Not to get all, you know, emotional or anything,” Sydney starts, shrugging it off like it’s no big deal.

“But like… I wanted to work with Carmy, you know? Which is why I came to The Beef. And… It was a lot.” She pauses, thinking about what she wants to say next as you nod along because you know it was a lot. “I wanted to learn from him and… I wanted to be somewhere that I could make an impact – where I could make something good.”

And in the spirit of being sappy and nostalgic Syd continues.

“And… I never thought, like, in a million years… that on top of building a restaurant… I’d meet you. You’re like… one of my best friends.”

“Woahhhh,” you tease her, pretending to be surprised.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.”

You both take a beat, knowing that you’re both using humor to deflect from the moment of vulnerability that you’re sharing.

“Syd?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re one of my best friends too.”

Saturday

“This isn’t me. I mean… none of this… is me,” you say to yourself, examining your reflection in the mirror. “I mean. We’re getting married at the courthouse, you know?!”

Maya had booked you an appointment at one of those high end bridal boutiques where they make a custom sign for you and serve champagne, and while it was more than a lovely gesture, even the least-fancy dresses here still don’t feel right.

“I figured as much but thought we’d give it a shot,” Maya sighs, disappointedly, as Syd and Nat exchange glances.

“If it helps, your tits look great,” Liz suggests, earning a laugh from you because, she’s not wrong and it may be the highlight of this dress stop.

A mischievous smile spreads across your lips as you say:

“C’mon. I have an idea!”

It’s those five words that lead you to the most ridiculous bridal consignment shop with the floofiest gowns you’ve seen all day. Deciding that you should have a little more fun with today, you use the fact that you’re the bride and it’s your weekend to convince your friends that they have to try the most extravagant and silly dresses on with you.

“Oh my god! Well we’re going to make beautiful brides,” Maya gasps facetiously, as she steps out of the fitting room in what can only be looked at as a ball gown.

“I’m pretty sure this thing has a built-in petticoat,” Liz adds, spinning around in the dress she’s tried on, something that looks like it should be what one milks cows in.

“I’m SO sending this to Patrick,” you laugh, snapping photo after photo on your phone while Nat cackles along with you. “I think you guys are going to have to get married again just so you can wear this dress.”

Before you know it, Sydney is pushing you into a dressing room with another dress to try on, promising you that she’ll try something on this time too. It takes way too long to put on the ball of taffeta, and Sugar has to come in to help figure out what goes where, before you emerge once again, like a cotton ball of a bride.

“Well, I think this is the one,” you joke, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

“And we can’t forget thiiiiiis,” Maya says in a sing-song voice, adding a hand beaded veil to your head this time.

“Wait, this is actually really pretty,” Nat says, in reference to the veil.

You agree with her, as Maya slips away to grab a few more dresses from out front, before turning your attention to the still-closed dressing room that Syd is hiding in.

“Sydney Adamu. Get your ass out here!” you holler, just as she makes her dramatic entrance, pulling back the curtain to the fitting room.

“Oh my god!” you gasp, the minute you see her in the beaded, fitted white dress. Aside from the mermaid tail-like hem, the fitted bodice fits her like a glove. “Ummm… this is hot!”

“Excuse me?!” Nat squeals as Liz simultaneously adds, “Okay, miss thing! Give us a walk! Give us a spin.”

“You guys are out of control,” Sydney says, gesturing towards the three of you, even though she knows you’re right.

She looks phenomenal.

“Okay, okay. Go try these on. I think I finally found some good ones,” Maya encourages. And before you can even protest, she’s handing you a few hangers worth of white dresses and shoving you into a dressing room while Syd continues to strut around the fitting room area.

You smile to yourself, listening to your friends giggle and squeal over the silly dresses, while you hang up the few that Maya’s picked out for you. One in particular catches your eye: a slip-like silhouette with a high halter-like neckline that cuts low in the back. You run your fingers over the smooth material and decide to try this one on first.

The dress fits a little big, and the hemline is a little long, but it’s nothing you can’t take to a tailor. You pinch the fabric, picturing what it would look like fitting a little closer to your body as you shout:

“Guys!!”

“What? Did we do the impossible? You find something you actually like?” Sydney teases you, as you pull the curtain back.

“Um… well it needs to be taken in some. And hemmed. But… yeah,” you reply, the reactions immediate on your friend’s faces as soon as they see you.

Maya gasps, while Liz’s jaw drops. Tears well in Nat’s eyes while Syd rubs a few soothing circles on Nat’s upper back.

“Holy shit,” Liz says.

“We did the impossible,” Maya adds, awestruck. “We actually found something that you, the anti-bride, actually like.”

“Oh sweetheart, you look so, so beautiful,” Nat whispers, so overwhelmed with emotion as she thinks of you and Carmy. And because this is so not any of you, Sugar can’t help herself, instantly deflecting with a dry, “God, I can’t believe you haven’t left his ass,” as the five of you burst into another fit of giggles.

As the laughter subsides, and the reality that you’re going to marry the love of your life sets in, you stare back at yourself in the mirror once more, the words falling out of your mouth.

“Yeah. I… think this is it.”

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

Crowded around the dinner table, the five of you work through what seems like a never-ending amount of Chinese takeout, as you wonder to yourself who let Liz over-order when you’re all leaving tomorrow morning. You sit next to Sydney, one of her knees tucked into her chest as she listens to all the drama from Liz’s last kitchen job.

“Shit,” Sydney commiserates. “When do you just say ‘fuck it’ and start your own spot?”

“Uh… when I marry rich and don’t have to worry about the business of it all?” Liz replies, earning an ‘amen’ from Nat and a laugh from you.

“I always knew,” Maya says, a sure smile on her face as she changes the subject.

“What?” you ask her, quizzically.

“I always knew that you and Carmy would end up together,” she replies with a certain amount of aplomb that baffles you.

It’s a simultaneous “How could you know?” from Liz and “How could you know that?” from Sydney, and an “I didn’t even know!” from you, as Nat exclaims a skeptical, “My brother?!”

“I knew! Because…” she declares insistently.

“I saw the way that Carmen looked at you. How he always looked at you. Even when you thought you were just friends. Even when you guys banged and thought you fucked it all up. And especially when he finally got over himself and invited you to Chicago.”

It’s a strange feeling, that one of your best friends in the whole wide world could see something that you, for a long time, could barely understand yourself, and it reminds you of the magnitude of you and Carmy’s love story.

“That was really beautiful,” Sydney admits, so casually that you have to laugh.

“You always were his biggest champion,” you say, earning a confident nod from Maya.

“Hey, remember when he was so nervous to even talk to you that he spilled your drink all over you?” Liz brings up, almost jokingly as you all burst out into laughter.

“You were soooooo mad.”

“So mad!” you agree passionately.

“Poor guy didn’t know what he was doing,” Liz chuckles.

“What an asshole,” Nat adds, as she and Sydney exchange a knowing look.

“Well. I will cheers to that,” you announce, even though you know, for all the shit you give him, he is and always will be the love of your life.

“To our last night here in Savannah. And you, our best friend, in all of her anti-bride glory who got us all here this weekend. And to Carmy, for loving our girl. Our king and queen of (not-so-much-anymore) denial,” Maya toasts, holding up her glass.

You cheers with your friends, exchanging laughs and quips as your glasses clink. You look around the table, and it’s not just the wine you’re drinking that brings a warmth to your cheeks. There’s Liz and Maya, the friends that loved you through your life before Carmy, through hating him, and eventually, through falling in love with him. And then there’s Nat and Syd, the two women who, had you and Carmy not taken a chance on each other, you never would’ve met. Never would’ve gotten to know. Never would’ve gotten to love.

You’re starting to understand this whole bachelorette party thing. You may not have bridesmaids, or all of the bells and whistles that come with having a big ceremony, but the love that you have in your life is bigger than just romantic love.

It’s in this room right now, a living, breathing thing that fills the air and warms you from the inside out.

It’s palpable, it’s real, and most importantly, it’s yours.

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #still into you #make my heart surrender #dont want to walk alone

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iamnotshazam · 4 months

Text

i saw the LotR films before ever reading the books and i love both. i turn now more to the books than the movies for enjoyment.

but i also feel like the three movies just. fucken. cracked it out of the park with some important things and i had NO idea how good i had it as a little nerd delving into the extended edition dvd extras. if i were a fan in the gritty-obsessed 90's hearing rumors of these movies, i would have expected at best stuff like: B-list acting that occasionally broke through with honest emotions. some skilled costuming and weaponry popping up in important scenes but mostly just knock-off viking opera aesthetic. homebrew DND imagery that made it painfully obvious by contrast which scenes they actually spent money on the set design and dressing.

and WETA and New Line and everyone on this!!! they did NOT accept lower standards cause it was fantasy! everyone else would have. This was genre filmmaking, this would have been perceived at the time as more like How the Grinch Stole Christmas than a Cecil B Demille-level epic movie. And the costuming department, composer, propsmaster and set designer all said "NO" and put their whole pussies behind it!

Jesus Christ the quality in those movies! Ian McKellan has undershirts like Gandalf the White might have! Bernard Hill has realistic quilted padding underlayers all made in the style a Rohirrim tailor and armorer would have made! Minas Tirith has a rat catcher because someone took a doodle and decided that would make sense in the lived reality of a massive city! Movie makers do not usually do this. It is NEVER about what isnt seen or necessary for the shot. You are judged professionally not by if you can cut corners in order to help production and still seem good, but by HOW MUCH.

I cannot blame anyone who worked on the Amazon series in the hands-on creative roles because the results are what they have been trained to do. Blame executives. Blame executives! Of course chainmail is going to be, i dunno, plastic or sewn into the edges of costumes if you dont have the money or time for real chain mail! And because it cannot be overstated how unusual the LotR trilogy filmmaking process must have been. It's like being given an average lower middle class family grocery budget and told to make a fancy Christmas dinner for 20 all by yourself with no help versus having a trained staff, a blank check, and Martha Stewart on retainer. That's not an exaggeration. That's the rhetorical gulf that someone (Valar BLESS them) in the bureaucracy had to wade across to convince execs to buy into the details. The Lord of the Rings movies are WEIRD.

And it shows. Bookfans bitch about the story changes, the balrog wings, the characterization differences. (Denethor was a reasonable person and even outsider Pippin could see he was very admirable to the people of Gondor, which made it sooooo much creepier when he suddenly snapped but i digress) but NEVER about the music. the filming locations. the set designs. the costumes. the props. the things that i really think count the most to help invest people in a different world!

No one ever complains about taking out the scene where Rohan is summoned to Gondor's aid with the Red Arrow, because yeah they could have made it work, they made the importance of other props like Anduríl and, oh yeah, the One Ring very clear, but they had a better idea.

The beacons.

The beacons were not in the book.

Not in the same way, really, because while incredible to think about the narrative style was close third person, and you cannot follow beacons to rhapsodize about them when you're a tired hobbit getting saddle sore crossing national borders with a grumpy old wizard. Pippin sees the Beacons of Gondor at a distance when he's falling asleep and Gandalf tells him they're a mustering signal within Gondor. Which makes sense, really, they require some upkeep and would be awkward for two nations to negotiate how to handle - nevermind. That's it. That's all the beacons are in the text.

Someone adapting the script saw a moment that was ho-hum in the book but realized ! 💡⚡️That would look really great on camera! And it is now routinely listed as one of the most important cinematic moments of anything, ever.

There are so many things I still want to ask Peter Jackson, "Why???" but the original trilogy movies overall? Work. They work and they do more than work, they helped elevate an entire artform that I don't honestly know that much about and oh god i usually dont ramble about them like this im embarassed is this already acknowledged in tumblr tolkien circles? or are we just split into different little fandoms in order to keep the peace?

#tolkien #peter jackson #weta workshop #gondor #rohan #gandalf #pippin #theoden #the lord of the rings #lotr #denethor #the movies . . . is good? the movies is good!!!#jrrt

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jogos-delulu-wife · 4 months

Note

what about jealous Jogo...? thoughts?..

Ooooo i like it let me shine a little light on my fantasies here

Let’s just say there’s kind of a pre-established relationship but it’s not official yet

Jealous Jogo is a menace, not like a kid running up and blowing raspberries and glaring at your guy friend that you brought home to study but more in a “I’ll just have to show MY human why this guy shouldn’t even be here 😒 insolent humans think they know what’s best heh” *causes pipe in hand to over heat* “HEY KID COMEHERE I wanna see how well you can handle yourself in a fight”

Of course the new guy Geto recruited who seemed a bit to eager to show off jumped on it, you watched with a look a sympathy shaking your head, you looked over at Jogo who seemed more focused, you were smiling how he tucked his pipe away resting his cane against the chair he just jumped out of

it didn’t take long for Mahito and Hanami to gather and watch the fight, you had long ran away into the ocean clinging to Dagon to avoid all the fire and lava attacks, Dagon was just floating in the same spot both of bobbing up and down in the light waves, Mahito’s cheers were heard and Hanami was watching intently, soon Choso and Geto showed up

Right when Jogo placed his hand on the boys stomach, it was over, you watched the kid get roasted and cringed at the smelling of burning flesh and hair before Mahito cheered with a sadistic laugh saying he wanted to fight next

Geto sighed pinching the bridge of his nose and you moved in closer going to do your job, it didn’t take long for you to fix up the boy with your reversed curse technique, he was up and touching his face and chest not believing how he had almost died the bot started to hug you rambling about how he almost dies and he’s so thankful you saved him how if there’s anything ANYTHING he can do to repay just let him know,

Briefly locking eyes with Jogo you pushed the kid off “Thanks but it’s literally my job your not the first person I’ve had to help and you won’t be the last, please let go

You trailed after Jogo when he left all broody sitting in his chair with his pipe, you huffed out a smile hugging his shoulder from behind, he had taken a bit of damage so there you stood resting your cheek against his head and your hands lightly touching his chest, the green light emitted from your hands started to heal him as he puffed on his smoke you kissed his cheek feeling how hot his skin was burning and he looked away trying to hide the slight pout🥺

It’s a long week of Jogo watching this sorcerer boy chat you up, and touch you so casually, he got tired of being passive and became passive aggrESSIVE

He was by your side- squinting at this wanna be lover boy, one day you decided you wanted to grill out, mostly because you’d been craving a burger and didn’t exactly wanna pay all the extra money for just one burger and fries when everyone-Geto- could pay and you could get your fill of Hot Dogs, Burgers, Chips, sides and drinks, so after pestering Geto long enough he sighed handing over a small black silky coin purse with the fun little kiss lock clasp you pop open and closed. You thanked him and rushed to drag Jogo with you being stopped when Loverboy asked if he could with you, Jogo locked eye contact with you over lover boy’s shoulder, smiling at Jogo “i was just going to make a quick trip with Jogo to the store and back, i doubt you wanna- please? I’d really just like to spend time out.”

Jogo standing in the middle of the 3 of you- puffing smoke out like a train to obscure the boys view, making the summer heat just a little more unbearable as you all walked to a small grocery shop finally inside the AC you set out to find everything, your fingers always brushing and lightly taking hold of Jogo’s hand, to some people it looked like you were quietly talking to yourself, but honestly you were having a hushed conversation with Jogo who only spoke so often being occupied with making sure there was no space for Loverboy to talk or get close

Getting back home and starting up a grill Jogo was right beside you, and loverboy still hasn’t gotten the hit, and as ridiculous as it sounds every time he tried to touch, does touch, or for some reason has a hand on you Jogo just smack it off. “Watch it brat.” “Tch pathetic humans and their small brains always driven by lust.” “Heh, try it again and I’ll make sure reversed cursed techniques won’t help you”

“Jogo,” you finally looked over at him after stuffing your face with your burger “you never asked me to be your spouse so~” you shouldered Jogo a bit “If you don’t start asking I might get snatched up soon.” You were joking about being snatched up but serious about the asking, maybe if he gave you a reason to say “NO, I have a boyfriend.” It would scare off loverboy faster than anything really, plus you were tired of him asking “Why is Mount Fuji so mad? He missed his old man nap or something?” Every time Jogo would cockblock him. Jogo rolled his eye and huffed mumbling something you didn’t hear as you bit into your burger again

Night time came and the night got chilly, ocean breeze was colder than normal, the starry sky seemed almost to perfect. You watched as Dagon sat in the send his chubby little body taking up the heat left in the sand, wanting to do the same, you sat in the sand next to him burying your toes and leaning over onto him, he smelt like ocean breeze with a little bit of salty winds. He made a sound and his eyes lifted to look at you, you smiled at him and he closed his eyes.

Jogo was watching from far away, everything was fine everything WAS perfect until HE showed up, you eyed the new guy who was smiling and staring at you from the table where Kenjaku, Mahito, Hanami the new guy himself were playing some table game. Jogo’s little eruption went by unnoticed as he lost his last bit of patience.

Standing up and walking over to you he pulled you up and then in for a kiss-

Your eyes wide before you smiled against his lips taking his face in your hands kissing him back, Mahito’s chatter could be heard but not understood, opening an eyes to look in their direction you saw loverboys shocked face, finally you pulled away from Jogo and rested your head on his, “You still haven’t asked me anything Jogo~”

Draping his shawl over Dagon he dragged you with him to his Beach chair sitting down and you followed sitting between his legs your back against his chest, looking up over your shoulder at him. “S-No.” he stopped you quick.

Jogo’s arms hesitantly wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder, you were enjoying his body heat, how it radiated off of him in a comforting manner.

“Y/n,” he whispered close to your ear.

“Yeah?”

He let out a frustrated sound, and you giggled, “True human having a bit of trouble self expressing hm?

It didn’t take long for Jogo to finally ask “Will you be my significant other?”

Looking at him, his eye was diverted, the purple blush on his face was warm, and you smiled straining up to kiss him “I’d love too”

🩶🩶🧡❤️🧡🩶🩶🧡❤️🧡🩶🩶🧡❤️🧡🩶🩶

Yyyaaayyyy I’m healthy again and getting back into it 🎉

Jogo Fans!!

Assemble!

#jjk jogo #jogo #jogo jjk #jogos delulu wife #jujutsu kaisen #jjk jogo x reader #jjk x reader #jogo x reader #jujutsu kaisen jogo #reader x jogo

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im-1hater · 3 months

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Total Drama headcannons cause I've kept these thoughts for too long (mostly Cody lol)

Cody, Noah, and Gwen had an emo phase, Cody wasn't allowed to dress emo so he only participated in the internet culture, Noah was unfortunately enough to have supportive parents so there are at least 100 pictures of Emo Noah in the photo albums (his sisters make fun of him for that) and Gwen insist she left that phase in middle school (she didn't. Once an emo, always an emo). They jump out of their skin when they hear MCR or BOTDF (earlier 2000s with unlimited internet access...)

Cody always wanted a pet dog when he was younger but his parents always said no because 1. They're too dirty, 2. They didn't think Cody could take care of one nor did they have the time themselves to take care of it. 3. They don't like animals and love seeing Cody suffer. 4. they probably think cats are better lol. Anyways because Cody would never shut up they caved and settled on getting him a hamster, a fat, chubby, hamster that looked like it was a month away from dying and Cody loved that thing to death. He would always get the hamster the best things it needs and take care of it properly. It lived for like 3 years much to the surprise of Cody's parents. Well, when it did die today Cody was devasted to an understatement. He had a funeral for the hamster in the bathroom and tried to flush him down the toilet like you would a fish. Only the hamster just clogged the toilet making water go everywhere and Cody crying more. His parents were def PISSED and after that, he wasn't allowed any more pets (all of this happened in the 4th grade til the 6th).

Cody is almost a carbon copy of his mother (Only because I am too)

Cody has one aunt on his mom's side and three cousins, two boys and one girl. The oldest (3 years older than Cody), Logan, typically likes to tease Cody (which he hates). The second oldest (older than Cody by 2 years), Jamie, is much nicer but that's not saying much really. Though Cody was stuck with getting Jamie's hand-me-downs because they were both the same size and Logan's stuff was too big for Cody. One of the reasons why Cody was bullied so much in school. The last and youngest (15 years younger than Cody), Cody. His aunt basically forgot her nephew existed and named her son Cody and she really liked the name so she didn't want to get the name change. So whenever they're in a room together they're referred to as Cody 1 and Cody 2 (Our Cody is Cody 2 even though it was his name first, lol).

Gwen often had to babysit her younger brother (forgot his name) a lot because her mom had to work two jobs since their father left them both at a super young age (Gwen 6 and her brother 2). She usually tries to help her mom out any way she can with chores, jobs, and looking after her brother. She says the reason why she joined Total Drama was cause her brother dared her to. While that is somewhat true the main reason was actually to give the money to their mom and hopefully make them financially stable. She was definitely disappointed to get second but her mom was proud anyway.

Harold is definitely NOT an anime kid. He actually HATES weeaboos and doxxes the really weird ones that are kinda racist and fetishize Asian people. He enjoys the anime content as he enjoys a lot of Japanese culture but he isn't going down the halls of Naurto running.

Heather's parents bought her an apartment when she turned 18 just so she's out of the house cause they deadass don't want her there they pay for her bills and groceries and all that stuff. It did hurt at first but hey, free water bill!

Trent awoken the bi mess Cody is.

Cody can actually cook somewhat. Only really simple foods that he learned in the cooking class. He only bothered to learn cooking because his parents are barely there and Cody was getting sick of pizza and takeout every other night.

Noah, Cody, and Gwen are the bi trio we need (PLS I BEG I NEED THEM IN THE SAME ROOM BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF EACH OTHER OR SOMETHING).

Noah's parents wanted all girls and lots of them, that's why there are like 8 or 9 of them. When they were pregnant they just assumed Noah was going to be a girl and didn't bother with finding out the gender and such. They were very surprised to find out he was a boy. So all his baby pictures are of him in pink girl clothes and a pink nursery. But they still love him just as much as his sisters.

Geoff had a rat tail, luckily Bridgette was able to convince him to cut it off (the only other person who liked it was Brody).

Duncan watched My Little Pony when he was 6. He always said Rainbow Dash was his favorite but it was actually Fluttershy because Duncan has a soft spot for animals.

Courtney hates kids and having to look after them while Gwen loves kids and loves watching them.

Heather's only friends are Cody and Harold (and sometimes Gwen and Leshawna but it's off and on).

Animals are naturally drawn to Cody, even Noah's dog likes Cody more than him (much to his dismay). Cody has never met an animal that hated him (besides bears...)

Cody is terrified of bears.

For some odd reason, Alejandro doesn't like Cody that much but only plays nice for Heather (he wants that twink obliterated) Cody fully knows this and he says he'll "tattle" on him for something dumb he did and Alejandro almost shits his pants each time (Cody doesn't even end up telling).

That's all and these are all correct (I don't take criticism)

I'll probably draw some of these idk

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hxnguxng-jxn · 1 year

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Hello, can you make a scenario for lan zhan wei ying and reader in which the three are married but reader belongs to a sect that does not agree with the marriage because they think that wei ying is bad and that lan zhan also for having protected him one day reader He has to go back to his sect for a moment and something happens that makes him lose his memory and his sect takes the opportunity to tell him that their husbands are bad and convinces him to send them a divorce request

Writer's Note(s): I can do this Anon! This is one of the shorter ones I could do quickly, I do hope you enjoy it!

Although, I have to say that Lan Wangji and Wei Ying would be quick to get Reader out if I didn't do something drastic, so hopefully it isn't too much during the middle part because I had to use drastic measures to make sure LWJ and WWX didn't just... win.

Info on Reader: Reader is intended AMAB, and uses he/him. Reader is from a non-canonical martial family, and they aren't happy about Reader's elopement. The Lan family are at Reader's support here.

Timeline: Post-canon.

【 ⚠️ 】 WARNING! Reader is mentioned to have temporary amnesia caused by a specific drug that comes from a fictional plant so the family can get what they want. Physical violence was not chosen as LWJ and WWX could easily save Reader then and there. Please be warned!

Fujoshis and Fem Aligned Readers DNI || Please stay safe! Turn away if you need to!

Being married to Wei Ying and Lan Wangji is very supportive and full of time best spent together. With how long the war in the martial world had gone on and how many relationships were strained at best, it was nice to travel the lands with your husband's.

Traveling with Apple the donkey was also something special. The donkey is stubborn and only eats apples with no prejudice, but everything else was treated with scrutiny. The donkey seems to have a soft spot after all this time traveling with you and Lan Wangji, and it wasn't giving any courtesy to Wei Ying if he tried to spur it into a gallop for any reason. It's a laugh for you and Wangji, for sure.

Your events across the lands are fantastical when Wei Ying plays his instrument and comes up with lyrics slowly as they pass the time between towns. Lan Wangji does help with lyrics on the basis of correcting wording he prefers, and hopefully you get in on it too (least you get a lovey-dovey version of yourself from your mushy husbands music).

It's by the fifth month of your travels that you can see the residual signs of your home province start to show and the landscape slowly starts to grow familiar. Types of houses start to go from modern to old-style, farming families with new surnames start to grow more familiar, and maybe you saw your clans family sigil a few days time before the capital.

Correctly, on your last night outside of your home city, you tell Lan Wangji and Wei Ying what you're expecting from city life and that this is your hometown that houses your family at the center. Wei Ying seems the most open and happy of the two to finally meet the family of the man he eloped with, but Lan Wangji did ask the best questions at what to expect from them.

You told them to expect the worst. And both took that too heart, knowing your not the type to lie about all this.

You three make a streamline plan on how to meet them and what you all need from this town while you stockpile for the road.

First, you get yourself an inn so no family members can try and tempt you to stay in their house: you know their tricks and you know they aren't above guilting you. Second, you three have your own grocery lists and items to gather so you can function in the wilderness: your list is mostly raw ingredients for the first few days, and not completing it is dangerous. Third, maybe Wei Ying and Lan Wangji can visit if your first visit doesn't end with terrible undertones: and you tell your husbands not to have hope to visit, and they don't.

They love you, they don't need to love your family.

Well, apparently, your family doesn't think that and genuinely thinks you're a male consort to two heathens. The surname of Lan falls on deaf ears upon your visit and you almost want to yell at the eldest family members for trying to convince you to stay. The harsh words of your family makes you strike the third part of your plan, because your husbands would do better collecting bounties then meeting your family.

If it wasn't for one family member you sort of liked asking you for just one dinner at home, you'd have left and been free from the next coming days. Whatever was burning in the incense while you had meditated that night, in your old room and awaiting dinner, you know it wasn't sandalwood or agarwood at all. But it was the last thing you could remember while you were under the influence because of your desperate family.

It's to protect you, they tell Lan Wangji and Wei Ying when they sneak into your home after two days of not seeing you. He was supposed to sign away all his estate at home, the LAN's can't have it! They yelled! But the burning plants of a certain drug had them both in turmoil as they covered their nose to enter your room just after telling their evil plan.

They were burning the drugs along with the agarwood inside the incense stand right above your bed, and you didn't look very good in the afternoon light they saw you in. Wei Ying wanted to carry you through the window, but your weak protests of not knowing what was going on left them pause. You were clearly delirious and at your request to be left alone, they had to leave. They can't expose themselves to it for long either, lest they become under the influence as well. They can only visit in incriminates to feed you proper food, as your families stupidity shows in how thin you got without them.

Sometimes your eyes flash with recognition of them and sometimes it fades into a blank expression, but they can't stay for long. How they wish the room wasn't drugged so heavily where they grow nauseous, or they'd just drag you back to the Cloud Recesses by day one! Nobody seemed to be able to enter for long, and Lan Wangji took note of it carefully.

Older people can't enter the room because it causes nausea and shortness of breath, younger kids can't enter without sickness showing and then becoming sluggish. Only those in their prime could stand to be in there at all, and even a cultivator still coughs at it.

To say Wei Ying and Lan Wangji we're pissed would be an understatement. And on the day they planned to spring you out with medicine and herbs to treat your ails, you were missing from the room and the family drugs had been tossed outside with no care or decorum.

Oh, if they both weren't mad then, they were pissed now. Rightfully so, with their husband yet again being used while under the influence for nefarious purposes, and with fluctuating negative symptoms from constant exposure. Storming the family halls, they managed to see you in your families dining hall because of your slumped stature and the face they can't ever forget twisting in confusion and bewilderment. You looked ill.

They watch in the shadows as you tried pushing away the paper and wooden scrolls they tried shoving at you. Sadly, without physical violence and causing a ruckus, they'll just have to wait till tonight to break your out and get you back to the inn.

They didn't stand for it! Not to their husband! That night, before the maid could light up the new drugged incense while the family yells in frustration outside your door, they break in and slowly gather you and your things without hurting the maid. Of course, with her at sword-point, she wouldn't lose her head for a master that didn't pay her bills.

For now, they just have to hope they give up for the night on getting you to sign whatever it was.

Later, from how close Lan Wangji was compared to Wei Ying, he heard it was a request for a divorce. Wei Ying, of course, panics internally because divorces are hard to get from officials to begin with, and extremely looked down upon by all. How had they gotten documents for that!? Were they trying to ruin your name with a divorce on record? It wasn't their choice, it was yours!

Of course, they'd need to leave this city as soon as possible just in case the maid is very loyal and turned tail immediately to her masters. Apple is hooked up to a tiny cart that can carry at least two people on it and their collected rations and items attached, and they nurse you with medicines in shifts as they leave town.

It didn't take two days for you to open your eyes and get sick, both of them nursing you with clean water and basic meals. Meals from the Cloud Recesses from Lan Wangji and medicine from Wei Ying. After two more days of purging the drugs from your system, your standing and no permanent damage seems to have occurred to your person as you do light sparring.

Of course, your memories are intact but hazy, and after hearing about what happened while you were under... yeah, you're cutting your family off. The Lan's of Gusu are the closest family you and Wei Ying will have, and after no time, it didn't seem so bad.

Especially with a brother-in-law and uncle-in-law who are very cool and supportive with cutting off your family.

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katishome · 2 years

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Ooo can you please do a jacob day imagine where the reader is an influencer and she and jacob have like a shared youtube channel because they’re dating and they do like a day in the life vlog and its all cute and stuff because they love pda and are super affectionate towards each other ? Thanks bae <3

A Look Into Our Hearts

Word Count: 522

Warnings: None

Pairings: Jacob Day x Influencer!Reader

Note: Hii! Sorry this took me absolutely forever. I’m not totally happy with it but this is my first time doing writing like this so it’s the best i can do, enjoy!

~~~

“Hi guys! It’s Jacob and Y/n here,” Jacob smiled, looking at you.

“And here’s what a day in our life looks like!”

“We both wake up fairly early, so we’ll make breakfast and then go to the gym.”

You set the camera down on the kitchen island while you prepared breakfast.

Jacob cut fruit for a smoothie while you made you both toast.

“We don’t really eat much, cause we’ll do that after the workout but we do need something to give us energy,” Jacob said.

The scene changed to Jacob filming you as you walked into the gym, and then a few sped up clips of your workout.

“Now we’ll shower and then we’ll relax until lunch!”

Another sped up clip of you both messing around with each other post shower, just in towels as you splashed each other with cold water. And then you two calmed down as you helped each other get ready for the day. Jacob helped you dry your hair and you helped him with his skin care.

Laying on his bed, you both turned the camera back on: “We’re gonna watch a movie and chill for about an hour, then we’ll go for lunch with everybody,” Jacob announced, cuddling you into his side. He filmed you with a fond smile, you’d fallen asleep not long after the camera had been turned off.

“Stop it!” You whine as you shoved Kristian away.

“C’mon Y/n! It’s enough!” He yelled, smiling cheekily.

“Now I know how Paige feels,” you groaned, shoving Kristian one more time.

“What? Do you guys hear anything?” He teased.

“I will cut your hair again Kristian, I did it once, don't think I won’t do it again!”

“You’re like a little ant, I’d step on you if Jacob wasn’t bigger than me,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes and pouted at Jacob, slapping Kristian’s sunburnt neck before smiling at the camera triumphantly.

You both didn’t film much of lunch, but filmed your trip to Target for groceries.

You went off with Tabitha to get tampons and Jacob and the rest went to start getting things off the list. After getting all you needed, you messed around and made tik toks before going back home. A small clip of Tabitha and Thomas laughing as the filmed the two of you from around the corner, Jacob’s hands on your hips and yours in his hair. In the middle of a heated kiss.

Helping Thomas film a youtube video, filming more tik toks and getting settled down in the theatre.

You mostly filmed the silly parts, laughing and play fighting.

“Alright guys, that’s pretty much what we do during the day!” You smiled.

“It’s getting late, we’re gonna get settled into bed, thank you so much for watching!” Jacob finished.

He turned the camera off and placed it on his desk, collapsing onto the bed face first. He turned over and pulled you on top of him: “You make me so happy, Y/n. So so happy.”

“I can't even put into words the way you make me feel, Jacob Day,” you smiled, kissing him gently.

#jacob day masterlist #jacob day fluff #jacob day imagine #jacob day #jacob night #jacob day tik tok #jacob day blurb #jacob day one shot #jacob day x reader #kat’s writing #ask #anon #nonnie<3 #jacob day writing

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writingpencil · 1 month

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Kamryn

I was always a child that was sickly pale. My parents always told me so. I was always malnourished, and I rarely ate, despite every attempt my parents had to feed me. They were always scared I would die, I guess the fear was what caused them to die instead of me. Months, I counted myself, marking the days off on the calendar with my pencils, they wasted away in bed. They, themselves, were sickly pale. They would throw up everything I made for them to eat, which, admittedly, wasn’t much. Eight year old me only knew how to make sandwiches, and open boxes. At least I was competent enough to grab mom’s credit card and go shopping, though I was always put off by the looks people gave me. The first time was fine, they were even amused, but the more I came, the more worried they got.

I went shopping every two weeks, like mom. I got the stuff for sandwiches, snacks, my favorite juice, and dad’s favorite ice cream. Eight year old me never forgot the ice cream. Even when my parents stopped breathing, I never forgot. My thirtieth shopping trip put an end to it. The cashier kept asking me questions, I remember most of them being about school and stuff like my favorite color, and her co-worker called the police. I thought riding in the police car home was cool. The officer even helped me put away groceries. I remember offering him a sandwich, and he denied and asked me where my parents were. I told him my parents don’t like strangers in their rooms, so the officer lied to me and said he was a family friend.

The look on his face when he saw my deceased parents is something I can’t forget. All color drained from his face, his pupils dilated so much I thought they would disappear forever, his mouth hung open as realization struck him where he stood. I brought him water when he wretched his guts out, apologizing for the mess. Summer was mostly a blur after that. I remember being put between foster home after foster home until my next relatives were found. It didn’t last a summer. My parents were always private people, always hiding things somewhere. I understood. At least their funeral was nice, though it was only me and my foster family. They didn’t have to stay, I told them such, but they wanted to be supportive. It was nice.

Two years were spent in foster homes, and I moved around the state often. Once, I went out of state with a family to live in their lake house for a few weeks during summer. I learned how to fish, and to swim. The ladies were very nice, they tried to adopt me, but the system refused them. I had family somewhere anyways. They should give their love to someone without such luxury.

It was the last day of school when I heard the news. I came home to my foster family, the Dividsons, sitting with the officer, Mr. Apricot. He found my godparents. Apparently, my parents assigned an aunt and uncle the title of godparents. I never met any of my family before, so when the officer told me they were coming to pick me up, I was nervous. I was almost ten years old, my birthday was in August, and that was a long time of not knowing somebody. I was worried they wouldn’t like me.

Sometimes I wish that was all I was worried about these days.

Least to say, I wasn’t anything like my godparents. Gwendolyn and Percival Aslett were rich, far richer than my parents ever were. My parents were upper-middle class at best, the Asletts probably had celebrities and politicians on speed dial. They were older than my parents though, early thirties was my general guess. The Asletts never really told me, and I never really asked, but Mrs. Aslett said my mom was her baby sister, and that’s all the information I needed. When Ms. Aslett told me that, I said mom never really mentioned she had a sister before.

Ms. Aslett told me Mom had five, counting Ms. Aslett herself, on top of a pair of brothers. Dad was the only child among my parents, I found out. I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me, Dad never was good in high pressure situations, or around other people. Mom was better at that than him.

I didn’t look like Mrs. and Mr. Aslett either. Mrs. Aslett was plump, with sun-kissed skin, blue eyes, and dark blonde, voluminous, curly hair that could probably work as a floaty. Mr. Aslett had dark brown skin, dark brown eyes, short black hair, and a perfect smile with a small gap between his two front teeth. They both were really beautiful, and dressed like they knew it too. Mrs. Aslett wore a short yellow dress`with a pair of wedges, which made her taller than Mr. Aslett, though I don’t think he minded. Mr. Aslett wore a suit with a pair of butterfly flaps. I originally thought the suit was black, but it was actually a very dark blue. Compared to them, I looked like a homeless person. I was my usually sickly pale, with Dad’s light brown hair, and Mom’s blue eyes. I still was skin and bones thin, but I had gotten better when the Dividsons continuously brought me snacks. I’d never been able to deny the snacks, I was a guest in their home after all.

Despite the differences, Mrs. and Mr. Aslett welcomed me with open arms. Mrs. Aslett hugged me tightly, telling me it was going to be okay now. Mr. Aslett said, in his proud voice, that we were going to be a family. The Dividsons and Mr. Apricot were happy for me, and Mr. Apricot even escorted us to Mrs. and Mr. Aslett’s estate. I remember being too nervous to ride in their car with them, so I rode with Mr. Apricot. They didn’t take it personally.

Their home was massive to me, a pearly white and gold mansion like something out of a movie. A prestigious garden, that they prided themselves on, a massive fence to protect them alongside bodyguards, a long list of staff members, ranging from maids and butlers, to lawyers and accountants. I remember being terrified to go inside at first. I was actually terrified of the two bodyguards that stood outside the door. I was a mouse compared to them, I’m only glad I realized they would protect me, not hurt me.

I felt dizzy in their home. Everything was big, loud, and proud. Luxurious, prestigious, expensive. I actually hid behind Mr. Apricot, clutching onto his uniform trying to keep myself upright. It was something I had to do the entire tour. The foyer, the hallways, the living room, the ballroom, the music room - where I fell in love with their piano - and the kitchen. Mr. Aslett asked for a glass of water for me, I think he knew I was overwhelmed, and one of the chefs gave the water to me. Called me the most polite little child she ever knew. Yanaye King was her name. I told her: “I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.”

There was always someone more polite. Everyone laughed, and Miss. King said I was a charmer. I thanked her for the compliment, and we moved on to the dining room. There were many chairs along the table, forty-two, twenty on each side and one on each end. I remember asking why there were so many chairs, and Mrs. Aslett said that our family always gathered for dinner here on weekdays. When I asked why, she said it was because everybody was close. Weekends, however, were for individual families.

We went to the second floor, where bedrooms and offices were. Mrs. Aslett said that her and Mr. Aslett’s bedroom was called the master bedroom, and was the third, and last, door on the left of the right hallway. Mrs. Aslett’s office was connected to the bedroom, along with their bathroom, but Mr. Aslett’s office was the second door on the right side of the right hallway. The other two doors are for a small library and a pool table, for when Mr. Aslett has friends over. The left hallway was for employees and their families. Some had terrible living situations, so the Asletts housed them instead. I guess it was nice, but I was only nine, almost ten, I didn’t really care then.

The third floor had a few more bedrooms, alongside a second living room, a home movie theatre, and a staircase to the attic no one had touched in years. There were just old boxes and dusty furniture. At that point in the tour, the Asletts decided they could show me outside tomorrow. When they asked me to pick a room, I asked for the attic. I guess it caught them off guard, cause they tried to make absolutely sure I wanted the attic. I did. It’s been my bedroom since.

I only vaguely remember the tour of the pool, the pool house, the garden hedge statues, or even the small orchard of apple trees. I do remember the tour of the garden maze. Only because that was the first time I saw my parents since the funeral. Every corner Mr. Aslett guided me through, because he knew the maze like the back of his hand, I would see them just in the corner of my eyes. When I went to get a better look, I saw them only for a millisecond, then they were gone. At the center of the maze, they were there, as if to congratulate me, though their smiles were nowhere to be found. It frightened me. I never knew my parents without their smiles. Their blank expressions, with their eyes entirely fixated on me, were entirely foreign to me.

I like to think I was a rational child. My parents were dead, died because they were sick, their bodies were in a shared casket in the ground. I knew that. Mr. Aslett couldn’t see them, he was busy describing the fountain. So, while he was distracted, I went over to my parents. They were sitting on a bench together, holding hands, and Mom reached her free hand out to me.

My hand went right through hers, and the touch was so cold, I swear I could’ve gotten frostbite. I wasn’t careful then. Mom blinked, finally, and pressed her hand to my cheek. I heard her whisper my name, but her mouth didn’t move. I wanted to cry, but I was barely a crier. The tears slid down my cheeks like burning hot wax, my eyes stung something malicious.

Mr. Aslett put his hands on my shoulders, and I remember jumping. It didn’t help that my parents disappeared once again. Mr. Aslett said something about the bench, how it was hand carved by his father-in-law and my mom, how they both carved their names into it. I stared at Mom’s name, carved right into the seat like he said.

I always scold my younger self for not realizing what was happening sooner, realize that it was just the beginning, but I’ve always been harsh on myself. Even every therapist I ever had agreed with me. I was nine. An impressionable child. However, with the knowledge I have now, if my therapists knew the extent of what I did, I doubt they would be kind with their words.

All throughout the summer, I was slowly introduced to normality and the rest of the Asletts. Truly. I am thankful Gwendolyn and Percieval Aslett were assigned my godparents, I would lose myself in the madness of the rest of the family otherwise. How nine-year-old me handled the first dinner is a mystery, even to me. Something I would read in the novels in the library. The insanity was accompanied by my parents, who always stood behind me, but disappeared when I went to look at them. I considered that, perhaps, they were protecting me, in some manner of speaking, from the other Asletts.

Forty chairs for five sisters, two brothers, and their own families.

Gwendolyn Aslett was the oldest of the sisters and brothers, with Ashlyn Aslett a close second. Ashlyn Aslett wasn’t married to any person, just her career and image. She was much less sun-kissed, her blonde hair was borderline brown, her blue eyes were so dark, I remember feeling intimidated. It didn’t help that she never smiled. Ashlyn Aslett wore black suits and red ties, kept her hair in a messy bun that was out of the way, and always kept her reading glasses on, even when there wasn’t anything to be read. She was also a bitter older woman, a politician who always had something to complain about. It was either too hot or too cold. It was either too loud or too quiet. The food was too salty, or the wine wasn’t red enough to her liking. She was just like that. A bitter old woman who was rejected too many times, and decided to be the one to reject everything.

Next was Thiago Aslett. To put it simply, he was a conman. Someone small who looked at the big world, and decided to pretend to be bigger. He dressed the part too: a dark blue suit with a black tie, blonde hair gelled back, blue eyes as charming as could be, clean shaven. Pyramid schemes, bogus merchandise, even sent someone to the hospital for acid burns because of some lipstick. If there was a profit to be made, Thiago Aslett was there. I guess it pays to be good-looking. He was always on his phone too. Unlike Ashlyn Aslett, Thiago was married. To his sixth wife. Skye Schroeder was her name, an absolute snake. She was a woman too thin, too high cheekbones, too boney. She was fair-skinned, caked in makeup, with dark brown hair, and these creepy green eyes. She always wore too revealing dresses in colors that just didn’t suit her, mostly eye bleeding pinks, and she always moved like she was slithering. A snake. I guess a conman like Thiago Aslett just like marrying reptiles like Skye Schroeder.

April and June Aslett were identical twins with separate personalities and an insane rivalry. April and June both married to handsome men, Fred Hale and Adam Grant respectively, and each had three kids. They both worked in the house restoring business, both dressed classy and feminine, their husbands stayed home, their kids were homeschooled. Despite the rivalry, they both acted casually to the other, with just a hint of bitterness in their voice. Fred Hale and Adam Grant were sweethearts. Good men with golden hearts. Both were either oblivious to their wives’s fighting, or were too tired from being fathers, teachers, and homemakers. If I did have to choose a side, I’d say Fred Hale had it worse. Heaven, Serenity, and Christian were monsters, leaving destruction in their wake no matter where they went. Aryan, Sylas, and Dawn at least knew when to settle down, that or they pitied their father.

The last sister was Logan “Kit” Aslett, a woman on the extreme side of Thiago Aslett’s crimes. Organized crime, to be exact. Kit was a type of wine mom, in the sense that she drank a lot of wine and was a mom. She kept her hair short, her smile mischievous, and her secrets close. Kit also had a lot of boyfriends, getting them and dumping them when she pleased, but always keeping it at six - whether she does it purposely or subconsciously, I couldn’t tell you. She had a wife too, named Anikina, who took Aslett as her last name. Real friendly woman, an accountant, though she runs a couple laundromats which are definitely money laundering schemes. I learned a bit of Russian and Slavic from Anikina, enough to ask questions and understand the answers anyways. With Kit’s boyfriends, there was only one who stayed since I was nine. His name was River, and he also took the Aslett name, as did his kids. I think the kids are why Kit stays with him, or maybe she genuinely stills loves him, she was not a person easily predictable. River is a doctor, smart too. I mean, he’s kept his mouth shut about what Kit does. At least he knows that doing otherwise would get him and the kids killed. Speaking of those kids, there were six of them, with a seventh on the way. In order, from oldest to youngest, there’s Guinevere, Peregrine, Wolf, Valentine, Casimir, Scout, and the new baby is going to be named Tegan. I think it’s pretty, but maybe I’m biased.

Lastly, but certainly not least, was Cain Aslett. Arguably the most normal of the Asletts on the surface. It was my parents who guided me to the unfortunate truth that Cain Aslett was a black widow. I didn’t know much about rich people’s tastes. Eight years later I still didn’t know. However, I guess I could see how someone would fall for Cain Aslett. A man with curly, blonde hair that he tied back into a ponytail, striking blue eyes, paired with sun-kissed skin and a signature smile? He might’ve made it big in the film or modelling industry if he wasn’t a manipulative spider. I’m only thankful my parents decided to tell me when I was older. A sixteen year old, or at least me at sixteen, understood better than my nine-year-old self ever could.

Cain Aslett also had a child, two years older than me, who went by Glass. They were non-binary, smoked candy cigarettes because they liked the colorful smoke, carried a pocket knife everywhere, and definietly took their mother’s genes. Glass’s hair was a platinum, almost white, color, their eyes were pink, their dark brown skin were dotted in freckles and body art - which, when we were older, they got permanently tattooed. I like thinking Glass was always that cool, even when we were kids, but I knew that they and I were introverts who didn’t catch onto social cues well.

The rest of the chairs were for other family members or special guests. Grandpa and Grandma Aslett did join dinner, it was my very first one after all. They spoiled me rotten, still do. Grandpa Aslett said he was already planning on getting me my very own horse to stay at his and Grandma’s ranch, with riding lessons if I was interested. Grandma Aslett was a little more reasonable, giving me an iron ring with the Aslett crest - which was a dagger covered in primroses. I remember, clearly, my dad putting his freezing hand on my shoulder and squeezing it when I put on the ring. Though his mouth didn’t move, I heard dad telling me to be careful.

The dinner itself was less memorable then the people I was related to. It was one of many dinners, and after eight years worth of them, they start bleeding together. What stuck with me, however, was how many of my parents’ requests took place at dinner. Since the first day, they asked me to do things. Who was I to deny the wishes of the deceased? I was a child, their son, it never occured to me not to listen to my parents until I was older.

Their wishes were simplistic enough in the beginning. Say this to her, ask this of him. They just wanted me to ask questions, and I only started copying down answers when I was thirteen. By then, most questions and answers were willingly let go. I didn’t think they were important when I was younger. Then, after a couple weeks, the requests became a little strange. Catch a brown mouse from the garden, bring it inside, let it run loose in the kitchen. Dinner was cancelled that night. When Grandpa Aslett brought me to the ranch, he showed me my horse, a mare with a black mane and white coat. He explained that every family member had a horse. Even Mom and Dad.

They asked me to name the horse Margot. Which I did. Grandpa Aslett looked disturbed, but quickly covered it up. Grandma Aslett looked like she was going to faint. I couldn’t forget that, thankfully. Truthfully, though, I felt awful. Grandma and Grandpa Aslett are genuinely kind people, perhaps not on the same level as Gwendolyn or Percival, but genuine enough. Mom and Dad aren’t as forgiving, I learnt this more times than I should’ve.

From the mouse and Margo, Dad made a special request before my birthday: Get some chocolate chip cookie dough. His favorite ice cream. I told Mrs. Aslett that it was the kind of ice cream I wanted for my birthday. While she was more than happy to get it, I heard Cain Aslett choke on a cough in the next room. On the day of my birthday, when Kit asked me what I wanted, Mom gave me my answer.

“I want to go to Niagara Falls.”

The bitter silence from the adults in the room was deafening. They all shared glances of uneasiness, save for Gwendolyn and Percival. Mom smiled, but I didn’t feel like smiling. I don’t think I could’ve even if I wanted to. Even with how uncomfortable it made them feel, the Asletts took me to Niagara Falls. The waterfall was cool, I suppose. But all I remember is how Valentine almost toppled over the edge, rescued by River. Valentine was five at the time, yet he was horrified by heights and even water from then on. Casimir chose to laugh at the story whenever it's told. He was two, stuck by Kit and Anikina like a leech, unable to remember Valentine’s terror.

Mom’s smile became even wider when it happened.

I followed request after request, from both Mom and Dad, when they required it from me. I cannot count how many times I woke up in the middle of the night, only to see Mom and Dad standing over me, waiting in the shadowy silence. Even during school, they gave me tasks. I was a puppet, I realized this, but most of what they asked was harmless. I considered them on the same playing field as pranks, or a kid asking harmless questions. It wasn’t until I was thirteen, when I truly started looking for answers, when I realized how dangerous it was to listen to vengeful apparitions.

It was three in the morning, and I woke up with Dad standing over me. I remember jumping, but calming down and mumbling a good morning. Dad whispered to me to follow him. Which I did. I shuffled after Dad, asking where we were going so late, but he never answered.

He guided me to the kitchen, empty of any chefs. The only person there was Mom, holding the largest kitchen knife I’d ever seen. She smiled, so wide and unnatural. I could see the entirety of her gums, and her mouth seemed to stretch beyond her cheeks. I looked up at Dad, and he suddenly had the same smile. Just thinking about those smiles sends shivers down my spine.

They asked me to kill Ashlyn Aslett.

I quickly denied. They started to scold me for not listening to them. Mom raising her voice terrified me, and Dad sounded so disappointed, setting a hand on my shoulder, encouraging me to make him and Mom happy. I remember quickly being overwhelmed, screaming so loudly I lost my voice for two weeks.

Gwendolyn and Percival, as well as some of the staff, found me, alone, in the kitchen screaming, crying, with a knife just a foot away from me. Understandably, they were concerned. Gwendolyn and Percival were so apologetic to me, saying they wished they realized how I was feeling sooner. I didn’t correct them. It wasn’t entirely a lie anyways. Plus, the therapy sessions helped me.

Since that night, Mom and Dad didn’t make themselves known. Not a sight, a hearing, not even the feeling that they were there. It was just me for the past five years. I learned to play piano, ride horses, and take care of myself better - though I still had a sickly complexion. I fell in love with art, took up painting in my spare time. High school was a bit of a bore, but I received my driver's license, dated a few classmates before ultimately staying single in my final year. I was looking forward to prom too.

I spill my secrets with you now, because there’s only a small guarantee that I will survive tonight. If tonight is the last time I’m seen, then let it be known why.

The door to my closet opened, a ghastly chill swept over my room. A pair of boney hands, with fingernails that were sharp like daggers, pushed the doors apart. From the darkness were four pairs of glowing red eyes, accompanied by unnatural wide smiles. I can say, right now, the only reason I’m alive is because they’re waiting for me to wake up. They’re hoping to get lucky and have this be one of the nights I wake up before dawn. They were lucky. All I need is to be luckier and pray they don’t notice.

Or get impatient.

“K a m r y n…” I kept my eyes shut.

Shit.

#writers #writing #creative writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writer #horror #horror writing #original fiction #horror story #horror fiction #story writing

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genderless-spoon · 6 months

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Okay I’m gonna rant on here for a sec cause I’m frustrated and have nowhere to put it.

I don’t know if you guys know what the term “ingredient household” means but essentially it’s a term that describes a house that doesn’t really do a lot of snack and meals that are pre-made or, in my case, even pre-planned.

Adding on to this concept, I’m sure many of us on here heard our parents claim we “had food at home” or “had plenty of food in the house” and we were “just picky and/or lazy” whenever we asked about getting food out or buying groceries or anything similar.

This was my house. We were mostly an ingredient household but my parents didn’t plan out the meals for which they were buying ingredients, my mom would just buy the same generic groceries every time with very little variety and would improvise throughout the week. This meant we ate a lot of the same food made in slightly different ways all the time (which is not, in itself, the problem). It also meant that when I got home from school and both my parents were at work, not to return home for at least a few hours each (often well after dinner time) I was usually hungry and we had no snacks unless I wanted to shove handfuls of chocolate chips in my mouth or eat spoonfuls of peanut butter (both things I used to do). This paired with the fact that my parents needed time to settle in and my family didn’t tend to eat dinner until pretty late, meant I was often told to find food myself if I was hungry.

My mom did this to us a lot growing up, but starting from a pretty early age when even making a sandwich was kind of a lot. I always wished she’d have taught me how to make at least a few small things, because when I was told that we had food and it was all just ingredients I genuinely didn’t have any clue what to do. I have been seeing a lot of parents on social media complaining about the “we have no food” line that their children pull, and it’s starting to really bother me. Obviously I know this is not the same situation for all of these kids but I think children in general tend to be pretty resourceful and creative, and do not want to sit there hungry unable to do anything about it. They aren’t just acting helpless so their parents do things for them, they are literally children, they’re supposed to be more helpless than an adult in that regard.

I think a lot of parents (especially gen x parents) seem to assume that just because something seemed simple to them their children should already know instinctively how to do it, but everyone has to learn their skills somewhere and making that process a little easier on your children is such a great way to show them how much you love them. Involving the kids in the process of making dinner little by little and encouraging them to learn is much more effective than just one day expecting them to know how to take care of themselves. If you don’t want to spend all that time making food for your children (which, by the way, is literally what you sign on for when you choose to have kids), then at least take a bit of time every so often to provide them with the skills they’ll need to be successful without your help. Children are still learning how to be humans and sometimes they need a little extra help.

I now really struggle to prepare dinner for myself regularly as an adult because I’m starting from scratch having never really learned much beyond the easy stuff I could make myself as a middle schooler. I’m also disabled (in multiple ways) and going through the whole process is so draining that I often end up not eating or eating something pre-made, and while there’s nothing wrong with that food it is frustrating to feel awful all the time from eating that kind of food but not have the time, energy, or money to figure out a way without it.

My parents never prepared me for real life tasks and self care responsibilities and my parents are my biggest critics when I fail or struggle with simple tasks like cooking dinner despite them being the reason for it. Every time I so much as attempt to make myself food that isn’t frozen or pre-made my mom has to comment on how it looks or how healthy it is when I’m literally just lucky I was able to do what I did.

I don’t know how relatable this is, maybe it’s only going to make sense to a select few people, but I just needed to get it off my chest. I’m sorry for the rant, thank you for reading. Let me know if you relate to this so I know I’m not just yelling into the void lol.

#i hate it here #parental abuse #parental neglect #fuck parents #I love them but Jesus Christ #i’m really struggling

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gl1tch3doracle · 4 months

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⊹ ࣪ ˖ Bombshell ˖ ࣪⊹

Had to write something for Reze now the new trailer is out. Already have another fic for her in store because I am absolutely feral for this woman and she needs more love. If there's one thing I love more than Reze it's her hybrid form.

➸ Reze + !Neutral!Reader

➸ Word count; 1,832 words,

➸ Set before her introduction in the manga (also a slight itty bitty bit of an AU, if you squint)

➸ Content warnings include cursing, blood mentioned, minor amounts of violence (kind of cause Reze is murderous when she needs to be) and descriptions of a burning/burnt building.

Returning home to the petulant smell of sulphur hanging thick in the air was enough to make you choke and gag before dropping your meagre bag of groceries. A resounding thump and rustle followed by the crinkling of packages, plastic melting into the smouldering clumps of brick that used to belong to your apartment building.

There was ringing in your ears - Loud enough to drown out the drones of people, police and firemen maybe. Sharp suits flashed between the crowds, glints of swords, furrowed brows, and taught looks. Furiously pounding in your ribcage, your heartbeat errant, your gut twisting as you numbly stumbled forward to your now destroyed home. The structure was crumbling, billows of smoke towering into the sky, blanketing the blue like a smothering embrace. You weren't sure what was stinging your eyes more - The smoke or the tears pinpricking at the thought of your now lost home.

'Is Reze okay?' Was all you could think. It brought about another bout of panic that settled deep in your chest. You could stand losing your home, it was a heavy blow both emotionally and monetarily, but you could deal with that later. You couldn't handle losing your partner.

'Was she scheduled to work today? She could be at the cafe, right?' You tried to rationalise, pleading that fate would at least let her be okay, but the fact you couldn't even remember if she was supposed to be at work today or not did not help the dying glimmer of hope that remained. Or maybe it was the shock finally hitting your senses. Either way, you continued forward, somehow slipping under the watch of the approaching devil hunters and police and into the ashy ruins of the building you once called home.

It looked like a bomb had gone off, was your first thought. The front desk was shattered, the bench broken in half. A smouldering crater sat placidly in the middle of the room, half-lit fires and smouldering embers burning red hot as you stumbled past. One of the elevators was missing, possibly crashed at the very bottom level if the empty, scorched elevator shaft told you anything. The stairs were miraculously left unharmed for the most part.

Still, unharmed did not mean untouched. Your hand was coated in soot the moment you steadied yourself against the railing. However cool to the touch, it was absolutely filthy. You swiped it over your already ruined uniform.

"Reze?" Your voice cracked, quiet under the roaring flames, sirens and mindless chatter. It barely carried, and you were certain that even if Reze were here and was still alive, she wouldn't have heard you anyway.

You jumped as something fell and crashed not too far from where you were, almost slipping and falling through a hole that opened up underneath your foot like a gaping, toothy maw. Whimpering, you hurried your way up the stairs and further into the burning building a little faster.

Somehow, your hallway was mostly fine. It was undeniably warm, uncomfortably so, flames licking at the scorch-stained windows, but for the most part, it was untouched. Not entirely clean and devoid of damage, but rather, it was the most unspoiled part of the building you'd seen so far. It was nice, you supposed, but your stomach was still twisting and writhing in frantic knots. Bits of broken wood were flung around, but it didn't look like they came from the still-intact doors, nor did the plaster look like it had been blown from the wall. However, just your luck, the one part that wasn't left untouched was your goddamn apartment.

It made your heart sink, or your stomach lurch into your chest. The door was completely blown off its hinges, scorch marks flying inwards, into the apartment like an incredible force had burst its way through.

Carefully, you peered into the ruined room.

Someone was standing in the middle of the kitchenette, humanoid in shape with their hand braced against the table. Eerily silent apart from a faint hissing sound with small sparks flying from small scratches and dents that littered their metallic face. Otherwise, they were stock-still, steaming spewing from one end of their bulbous, shiny head like an overheated engine.

The hole blown clean in the wall behind them allowed the bustling wind to whip past, tugging at the sheer dress of twisted cables and dull-carmine dynamite strapped around their body.

'What the fuck is that?' You held your breath, unsure of whether escaping back to the freedom of outside and clean air would've been a better choice than just standing in the doorway like a deer staring into headlights. Either way, there was the possibility that whatever was standing in the middle of your ruined home would hear you, but there was something that made your blood run ice cold and pause.

A spattering of crimson over the rightmost wall, a clean arc bold against the fumes. Blood, thick, dripping slowly before puddling where the floor sharply curved upwards.

What you could only assume was Reze's blood.

"No…" Tears finally fell, rolling over your cheeks, turning grey with ash. Then, you realised your mistake - Alerting whatever killed Reze to your appearance. The dread of losing your loved one was trumped, nothing compared to the almost hysteria of seeing the thing shift.

At first, it was the flex of the hand against the table, fingers flexing, spreading, smearing more blood against the placemats - Then it was the head. It shuddered and shook itself before seemingly heaving a breath it had been holding and letting a billow of steam spew from its mouth, a sickening, metallic crack resounding through the room before its head slowly, malevolently, peered in your direction.

Amongst the burnt wires and smeared blood spattered against its front (you heaved a silent sob knowing it was Reze's own blood) you noticed the stark white button-up shirt that melted into its skin. Tight, unmarred by everything except the crimson blood that dripped from its harrowing teeth, and decorated with a still intact name tag.

Reze.

That scared you more than anything.

The only thing that haunted you more than your partner dying by the creature in front of you, was your girlfriend being possessed by the creature in front of you. A fiend was the only thing that made sense, seeing something so humanoid garbed with such a strange head and decorated with twisted wires and flying sparks. The thing in front of you had killed Reze, or found her body, and decided to take it for itself.

It was the only thing that made sense in your mind, after all.

"What are you?" You snivelled. The thing already knew you were there, staring you straight down its sights despite the fact you were sure it had no eyes. It paused, tilted its head, and had the audacity the laugh, or more accurately, giggle, in your girlfriend's own voice.

"You weren't supposed to find out," Her shoulders sagged, dragging her feet against the floor. It still felt like her, even if a devil had taken over her mind. Still…

"Reze?" Your voice was hoarse, rough from the smoke and tears. The thing cocked her head to the other side, letting her limbs fall lax at her sides.

"Lisichka," There was a specific tone in her voice, but it was the name that made your heart break. Those uttering of syllables, the same ones Reze would whisper softly, adoringly, in your ear before the two of you would fall asleep. The way the devil moved in front of you, it seemed all too familiar for her body to simply have been taken over. You had no idea how possession worked, but you were certain that the body always lost a sense of humanity as well as their memories as their mind was stolen. Seeing the devil Reze in front of you, a part of you doubted that this was not Reze. Too many of her mannerisms were still there, the way she held herself, the way she talked, her words and the way her head tilted.

"I don't understand…" You clung to the doorway, trying to regain any semblance of balance as your mind whirled by at incredible speeds. Reze swayed before walking toward you, gentle and light with a pep in her step. She didn't say anything, but you could feel the heat radiating off of her, palpable waves that swamped the already humid air around you. Instead, her fingers cupped your cheeks delicately, fuse wires starkly cool, but in a manner that was undoubtedly from Reze's own control.

From here, you could see your face reflected in the shine of her head. Rounded, almost glassy in texture. Steam still spewed from her mouth, thin wisps that rose to the ceiling. You hummed, the sound ragged in your throat. 'This is Reze' was the only thought running through your mind. This scary, daunting creature that had most likely destroyed the building the two of you had lived in, was your own girlfriend. The being that stared you down, teeth covered in blood with her uniform melting into her skin. The person who, despite the carnage that surrounded the two of you, held you so tenderly and carefully and with such love that, as the realisation dawned on you, you couldn't really come to hate like any other devil that plagued the city.

You sniffled once, and then raised your own hands to trace along the curve of her face.

The metal (you were certain it was metal) was warm to the touch. Not hot, but pleasantly warm against the aches in your fingers. Nicks covered the surface, not entirely smooth, somewhat dented - Ruggered would probably be the best way to describe the feeling. Reze vibrated under your touch, leaning in further as your hands traced along the curled ridges cut out of the side of her head, following the curve down toward her pointed teeth. The feeling of hot blood made you flinch, but still, you continued, cradling the oversized head of your girlfriend in the hold of your arms.

That was, until, she literally started melting between your fingers. The scream in your throat was muffled as Reze threw her arms around your shoulders, covering your mouth with a single hand whilst the other rubbed comforting circles across your back. Within a blink, the devil mask, or head, was gone, slumped in a pile of dark sludge that quickly seeped into the floor as soon as it had fallen from Reze's face. Now, she was there, peering into your eyes, crystal clear emerald that you remembered so fondly with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

"What was that all about?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, cracked, and sorely tired. Just having Reze wrapped around you like she so commonly did was already doing wonders for your palpating heart.

"I'll tell you later," She grinned, turning her head toward the broken door frame. The concentrated footsteps of about three of four people were already making their way down the hallway. "For now," Reze grabbed your wrist, "we run."

For those curious, Lisichka, the name Reze called the reader, apparently means little fox in Russian if my five minutes of searching told me anything.

#reze x reader #chainsaw man x reader #reze #csm reze #I just think she's neat #bomb devil x reader

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soupbabe · 11 months

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Slasher Oc Introduction

I can't help it I had to make a big axe wielding oc 😩 I love her sm

Oc taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut , @the-pinstriped-hood, @devil-doll13, @frostcorpsclub, @bugginbeetlew

Name: June Perez

Age: 30

Birthdate: July 2nd, Cancer ♋🦀

Gender: Cis Woman, She/Her

Orientation: Bisexual

Appearance

Height: 6'3"

Eye Color: Hazel

Hair: Black, has loose, wavy hair. Cut into a tiny bob that stops mid-ear, has micro bangs

Ethnicity: Hispanic

Body description: Rather boxy, with wider shoulders and not a lot of curves, visibly muscular, mostly around her arms and abdomen, hands are noticably rough and defined

Aesthetic: She prefers earthy and neutral tones, loves the colors olive green and cream, her style is very soft cozy and modest, lots of handmade sweaters, only accessory she wears is the occasional clip or headband in her hair

Personality: Introverted, borderline reclusive, sentimental, sensitive, possessive, envious, paranoid, kind of person to put up walls yet ignore other's boundaries

Backstory (TW: Miscarriage mentions):

- June was always pretty reserved, she struggled to make friends and when she was able to make one, the connection never lasted long

- She's a homebody, she chose to stay home and study than to go out with anyone who gave her the time of day

- Though she thought of herself as just independent, this kind of isolation aided of her social anxiety and depression

- As she got older, she buried her problems to continue her career in nursing

- When she turned 28, she and her boyfriend at the time were expecting a baby. June's excitement went far into the future, causing her to already plan for a room for the baby and she even started knitting hats and a blanket to save for the future.

- Unfortunately, she miscarried at 2 months in. This was very traumatic for her and sent her on a downward spiral

- Returning to her job was rough, she became a lot more possessive of the babies she looked after and was a lot colder to her adult patients

- Eventually this led to her being fired from her job due to patient complaints

- During this time, she grew resentful. She hated herself and absolutely despised her boyfriend, blaming that he was the reason why she couldn't have a baby

- This marked her first kill; she beat him to death in the middle of an argument

Extras:

- Lives in a cabin near the Smokey Mountains in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee

- Her weapon of choice is an axe

- June's victims usually are tourists that come by: she'll target trespassers, couples, and mothers specifically

- She mostly kills out of jealousy and the fact that she doesn't want to be bothered, June prefers to stay by herself

- She doesn't go out to town much, the most she'll go out for is groceries and yarn runs

- June kept all of the baby memorabilia she made ahead of time, she can't bear to part with it. It now lays underneath her bed in her bedroom.

#june perez #slasher oc #oc bio

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green-ray-blog1 · 4 months

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The Prince

It's 1-1, now, between Harrowmont and Bhelen and hardcore supporters of both are now jumping Darrian and his party in the streets of Orzammar. For his next errand, Harrowmont wants Branka found. Oh, right, the paragon who invented smokeless coal (which sounds straight up magical), then took her house to the Deep Roads, and didn’t come back. Well, if Darrian found the Urn of Sacred Ashes, he can probably find Branka, or what’s left of her. But now, Bhelen wants to talk face to face, since we did his dirty work, and oh he is one slimy bastard. It's like he can’t even be bothered to put up appearances. And that’s the guy who’s gonna help the casteless ? He wants Branka found, too, but he only wants her back if she supports him. The guy definitely murdered his dad. Well Darrian’s not doing the killing political opponents (wait, did the Carta count ?), so he’ll improvise when he’ll get there, and, again, Branka might be dead already.

First, though, Alistair and Wynne apparently have a lot to ask Morrigan about her love life. Several things : First, Darrian is right there, so it’s a bit hurtful when you guys are talking like he’s just Morrigan’s thrall, now. Second, looks like neither of you have seen how much of a dork she is, and thus how funny that makes you sound. Now, to be fair, Darrian did agree to kill Flemeth for Morrigan, and it is possible she might have been lying about the whole body-jacking thing, but honestly, it’d be a really good act. Ah, whatever, you know what, this is fine, it’s all part of the plan. See, when Darrian has retired in the Korcari wilds, and he goes grocery shopping in nearby villages, there’s bound to be some dumbass shems that’ll be all like “Hey fuck you knife-ears !”, but then their buddy will be like “Dude, shut up, that’s the Wicked Witch of the Wild’s boyfriend ! You wanna get turned into a spider ?” It's perfect.

Then we meet Oghren, Branka’s husband, left behind when she took the rest of the house. He really wants to come along and, uh, well, sure. He seems pretty on edge about the whole thing, which is fair. Shale is also here. Their mage had mentioned finding them in a place related to dwarves, so maybe we’ll see something interesting. Now, it’s off to the Deep Roads

***Bonus content!!!***

Hi my name is Darrian Tabris and I have short black hair and pointy ears and a lot of people tell me I look like Shianni (AN: if u don't know who she is get da hell out of here!). I'm not related to Zevran, but I wish I was cause he's a major fucking hottie. I'm a grey warden, but that’s just until the Blight is over. I’m also a rogue and I got Isabela to teach me how to duel. I’m an elf (in case you couldn’t tell), and I wear mostly light armor. I love Wade’s Emporium and I buy all my clothes from there. For example, today, I was wearing the felon’s coat. I was walking outside the Alienage. It was like everywhere in Ferelden, smelling like wet dog, which I was very happy about. A lot of city guards stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

#dragon age origins #warden tabris #my immortal

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cowboyjen68 · 2 years

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Hi Jen, and hello every butch reading this. I need your help.

I don't know where to begin, this has veen a problem for me for almost a decade now. I've followed you (Jen) for a few years now, and you're a very comforting figure to my brain, so I was hoping you and possibly others could help me out a bit. If not answers, then some good advice, open mindedness, patience, and possibly links to resources and helpful places. I've wanted to reach out to older butches and such about my issues with gender for a while, because I've flipped between a few and always have my mind coming back to butch in some form or another. Whether I act on it between each circle back or not, it stays.

I came out as some flavor of trans around 13, and then moved towards binary FtM around 14 or 15, which is when I met my first partner ever. I've had a ton of jumps back to being just kind of butch but in a weird middle butch state of not lesbian, not ftm, not anything but butch. I grew up in the midwest for 10 years (starting at 10,) and came out as a lesbian at 11 or 12. Regardless of how I was identifying in highschool, I was bullied and catcalled as a lesbian my whole childhood, seen as a d/ke, called it, I got the worst of it all, had girls try to kick my ass and dudes try to "turn me." I hung out with the fem cishet alt girls half my height and half my weight, carried them around, I was the ugly tall bitch that protected them. Had a wicked shaved head, wearing mens clothes handmedown, mens boots, brought a swiss army knife everywhere and my own wallet and housekeys. Getting pencils thrown at my head, smoking weed in the girls room, forced to change in the gender neutral stall for gym cause the school didnt know what to do with me. Guys would honk as they went past and shout dyke at me, so I started trying to blend in with highlighter shirts and jeans etc. Typical midwestern shit. I feel that despite now living as a man, i had the lived experience since a very young age (even before moving to the midwest,) of a butch. I am now fully living life as a cis man, stealth, and dating an amazing queer trans dude whose possibly genderfluid, and also very fem. He also identified as a lesbian for a long time and experienced a lot of toxicity there, and was nonbinary in his past, and I met him when he was agender and queer. He's amazing, I'm going to marry him, and he's everything I love in a partner. Feminine, went to cosmetology school, pretty nails, chubby, likes to bake and shop and wants to cook me steak, wants me to carry his stuff and his groceries, calls me his scary dog privleges, wants to scratch my sideshave. He realized he was trans and came out after we met, and I've been his biggest support against everything else, and I always will be. I love him, I'm attracted to him and he's the only person i ever have been. So I dont think I qualify anymore as a butch, despite using the term and being a butch for so many years. I was a butch, I still feel it even if I'm not really into many people at all including women (also on the aro/ace spectrum haha), but now I'm a man, I have a beard, I have a boyfriend I will never leave, who knows how I feel and loves me and we both know no matter where we end up gender wise or sexuality wise that pretty much me and him are it, and if it contradicts, who gives a shit, yknow?

My dating history has always been feminine nbs, feminine trans boys, and femme lesbians. I have never dated a masculine cis man, masculine nb, anyone masculine at all. For lack of better terms due to my situation, I have always been butxh4femme and at least masc4fem. I have always been the guardian and gentle giant of my fem partners, I also am mostly a stone butch due to sexual trauma and asexuality. Due to my aroace-ness, I've also hardly dated literally anyone lmao! Maybe 3 people longterm and seriously in my entire 21 years. This is getting really long, and I'll be honest, I've been yelled out of all communities I've been in for being so damn complicated. I'm scared I'll hurt mt partner and he'll feel I don't see him as he is, I'm scared I'll hurt lesbians despite living and growing as one most of my life, I'm scared I'll hurt me by identifying as butch because I feel like I'll have to detransition. I also kinda look fuck ugly without a beard nowadays, cause lord knows I've shaved that shit fullon twice now because of this exact issue.

I want to be called sir, and I love being on T. I hate getting a period, and my bottom dysphoria is agonizing, but I probably wont get bottom surgery. I want to not be catcalled. I want to get top surgery eventually, and maybe I don't want a full beard. I wanna cut all the sleeves off my shirts again and get some sexy workboots and jeans. I know I want my pretty femboy boyfriend on my arm forever, I don't care how he ends up identifying or me either, and to see him wear his dress on our wedding day. I want to be butch but still be seen as a man, but I don't think I'm allowed because so many people have shit on me for it and said I'm not. But I still wear my keys on my belt. I still lift the heavy shit, emotionally or physically, every day for him. I still do my role, I still protect the people around me. But I don't want people to look at me when I say butch and assume me or my boy are women, out of respect for him and me too.

Advice needed, please, anybody that's willing to help me and help me find my path. It's been so back and fourth so long. Thank you.

- R

i am sorry for taking so long. Fall is a very busy season with all my jobs ramping up and getting ready for winter on the homestead.

Your writing was a lot to absorb and I admit I read it several times and had to come back because it weighed on my emotions and heart heavily. I was driving tractor last night so I had lot of thinking time. I went over in my head how you much feel, how I could possibly answer this with any coherant advice or even just some comforting words.

You are only 21, my advice if you were my child (i have 3--25 year olds, a 22 year old and a 16 yo), would be to slow your roll. 3 serious relationships by 21 is a lot. At a time when we are sort of socially and mentally programmed to be free and using our energy to exlplore our individuality you were putting efforts into maintaining viable relationships with other people who were probably also trying to figure themselves out. I was 23 before I even had one serious relationship and i was probably still NOT ready for it.

When we never live a single life or a life on our own it becomes hard to separate who we are from our partner. It is normal to bounce off of each other and to both want badly to share the same values, identity and interestes EVEN if as individuals those things might never have lined up.

I am NOT a therapist nor can I possibly know you or your exact feelings, I can only go by what you told me. When I am asked for advice I am honest but kind, go from my experiences and or those stories I have been told by friends. Sometimes what I say is NOT what you want or expected to hear. That is okay. You can take what I say or leave it. Or use what helps, ignore what doesn't . So here it goes.

My point about you both meeting young,and thus relying on each other to work on your individuality comes into play here. You are both, I am guessing around 21. Neither of you have had any time to forge exactly who you are. Stastically what are the chances of two women who both lived as a lesbian meeting after you transitioned and the partner ALSO being trans but not coming out until AFTER the fact. Until after the relationship has progessed.? Speaking in terms of how many trans people are in the population that feels like quite a statistical anomally. What are the chances? Now I suck and math and I know the percentage of any given population in the LGBT+ community as compared to greater society seems sketchy, based on shitty research and at best a bad guess. It just gives me a bit of pause and might give you some food for thought, a chance to think over outside influence vs life long dysphoia or other factors.

I preface this by saying I can in no way know you or your partner or pasts or any actual feelings, only what you have told me. I appreciate your stark honesty and your willingness to admit you are struggling. Reaching out is hard even as an anon. Is it in any way possible your partner was influenced heavily by wanting badly to share your life, your values, to feel more inline with you and to feel more close to you and to solidify the relationship in a space that she perceives as more comfortable to you. OR perhaps even your friend group?

You talk aboout pressure from all sides to be this or be that and if you are a trans man I am sure she was getting not too subtle pressure to not use lesbian even though she was maybe just fine with that, it felt right. There is a vicious push from inside the house to tell people how to describe their sexuality and relationship when it is no one’s business. Others feel uncomfortable when two people live their lives as they see fit and don’t rely on how people perceive them to be happy. It makes some people nuts in fact.

To your concern about detransitioning or not or what makes you happy. I know detransitioners and they slide just fine back into the lesbian community they used to have or they have found their own new lesbians friend group. It is not impossible. At many events I have been to in my life, women’s festivals included, there were tans men there who lived soley as men outside the protective walls of women spaces but were happy to be seen as women within the safety of the limited time and space of the event. You can find community among lesbian no matter how you land, it just takes a little bravery and ultimately being okay with yourself.

I am not going to tell you it is easy no matter the path you choose. Reidentifying as a woman with a full beard and staying on T is never going to be as easy as just saying “I am THIS “. You would have to spend time coming back out, explaining etc until such a time you formed a community who knows you and understands your past.

Everything you described that you love is everything I love about being butch, I am short, 5′3 so I didn’t experience some things like you have as tall woman in high school, BUT I was definitely clocked as a lesbian even with great effort to be seen has just wearing “typical midwestern shit”. My entire wardrobe was T shirts, sweatshirts, jeand and tennis shoes. I gave up my beloved cowboy boots because others said they made me “look even more like a boy” and in the 1980′s I tranlated that to “butch lesbian” even if I did not have those words. I knew damn well what they were inferring.

I also know lesbians who take T and remain in the lesbian community, they just feel they need to pass more as men in the larger world for their peace of mind, safety, job, whatever. So deciding that lesbian and butch is right for you does not mean you can’t continue to utilize tools that help you to feel okay.

This is getting a bit long and I will admit I am unendingly biased, I have never denied that and don’t hide the fact that I think being a butch lesbian is wonderful. GIven all the factors and insecurities you have shared with me being a butch seems like the path of least resistance. Cutting back on T, not constantly worrying about “am I or am I not” and getting back to the basics of what you seemed to understand as you were coming out, before there was transitioning on your table. EVEN in the face of bullying and knowing being a lesbian was not desirable to the outside world you could not escape it and you came out. Perhaps because when you can’t escape you meet something head on and embrace it since that pulls power from the outsiders.

When you and your partner are alone, away from all others. In the safety of you bed, talking softly and about your day or your plans tomorrow, the world gets no say. You both know that is true in your hearts and please don’t let those in the world, in our own community poison that with pressure and accusations. DO NOT give them control of your heart, of your love.

Best of luck and butch hugs to you.

#butch #femme #trans man #love #pressure #lesbian

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despair-to-future-arcs · 2 months

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Well Fuyuhiko?

Ye-Yeah, I guess you would be curious of that...

Well you remember when Peko was raise to be a tool by the Kuzuruyu Clan?

Yeah I did remember that but what does that have to do with Natsumi?

Well it does, you see Natsumi wasn't suppose to happen; I remember my parents fought about it that mom had to stay with grandma to give birth to Natsumi while my dad didn't want a second kid but just accepted it.

Wait so Natsumi wasn't suppose to happen then what about Peko?

Well as say, Peko was train to protect mostly me but also Natsumi as well but since Peko couldn't be 2 places at the same time and since me and Peko were going to high school pretty soon...

So at 13, my dad and uncle gave Natsumi a knife for her birthday and when she was starting middle school.

Wa-Wait so your dad gave Natsumi a knife?! Does he realize that's dangerous!

Well yeah, even mom say the same and didn't like it, my uncle took notice of Natsumi liking the weapons that my cousin had so she ask for one and got it.

I even remember dad told her to use that knife when she's in actual danger and not towards innocent people and I figure she would listen to.

And I guess based on the CCTV Footage, Natsumi didn't listen and even lie to your dad...?

Yeah pretty much and it's why I got piss when I found out my sister was dead, I thought she always had it with her but didn't!

So where the fuck did it go?! I thought she kept it with her, so what happen! She would of protected herself from Hatomi!

I remember checking her body as well and she didn't have the knife, Hiyoko figure that likely the pervert took it but Masa found out that he didn't...

...Maybe something happen before then like someone in your family took it?

Huh? What do you mean...?

Well you say she had the knife on her at all times, right? Maybe someone took the knife from her and didn't give it back; do you remember anything before the murder took place...?

Well I did remember mom got call in on July 1st after Natsumi cause some trouble for her class and after we got home; I left the kitchen while mom was yelling at Natsumi.

I didn't know what happen after but she went to her room and slam the door, I did ask what mom say and she say it was none of my business the only one that was there was Peko who was helping with some groceries...

So that means Peko does remember what happen but thank you for telling me where the knife came from.

Yeah at least, that solves that problem now Miss Koizumi, I'm rather surprise that despite what Natsumi did to you; you didn't say anything, not even your best friend, the other girls or Fuyuhiko, can you explain that one?

...Yeah since I'm done already I guess your turn.

...

#dr #danganronpa #dtfa #despair to future arc #fs:rw #future side: re write #fs ep 9 #sdr2 #super danganronpa 2 #mahiru koizumi #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #masuyo miyahira #anonymous

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sourbat · 6 months

Text

Day 25: Campfire/Left out in the Cold

Summary: Dethklok takes Toki camping.

Warnings: None

Click the link or read below

It was late in the evening when Pickles came out with a grocery bag filled with forked picks, sugar-free chocolate, graham crackers and marshmallows. The sight was a welcomed treat after a long day of driving, tent-pitching, walking and fishing, and while Murderface found the energy within him to grumble a short complaint about the flavors, the men were mostly in agreement that they could spare some room in their stomachs for a morsel or two. Toki was the most enthused, and raised his hand immediately once Pickles pulled out picks of assorted colors and asked who wanted first dibs on blue.

The trip was a long-time coming. The idea arose shortly after rescuing Toki, but had been pushed aside for more urgent matters. Nathan mostly blamed himself, but Pickles, Skwisgaar and even Murderface figured they owed Toki as much, and should have done or attempted to do so while Nathan had been stuck in his funk. So a camping trip it was, and it was still on Dethklok-owned property, but the distance was far enough to warrant a pleased squeal from Toki once the band made their grand announcement.

It was Toki’s suggestion they snap a pick of their sweets and post it online. Normally, such an idea would garner a series of rude remarks, but tonight the guys allowed it without so much of a snicker. Nathan even managed a chuckle at the image of his then-molten marshmallow melting into a black sludge, and once Toki’s had joined it and sunk into the fiery picks, Nathan decided to show him the art of making the perfect s'mores. As he pulled another marshmallow from the bag, Pickles finished his double decker and proceeded to try choking the entire thing down while Murderface cheered him on. Skwisgaar, having lost interest after the first bite, returned to strumming his guitar.

It was, by all accounts, a lovely evening in the middle of the woods. Between the laughter, music and nonsensical drivel regarding Planet Piss, one would never notice the dozens of hooded men and women scouting the perimeters.

With graceful movements, Nathan eased his melting marshmallow onto the chocolate, and then gently pressed it all together without causing too much of a rupture. “Here ya go, kid.”

Toki smiled as he took his s’more in his hands and inhaled it in two messy gulps. “Mmmm, oh wowee.” His words were barely audible behind the wall of goo and saliva. ”Thanks, Nathans.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

As he wiped his face with his arm, Toki's cheery eyes darted around the campsite. Pickles leaned into the fire to light a joint. A glowing log snapped and erupted a glorious flight of white, yellow then red sparks into the air. Skwisgaar strummed, and once Murderface realized no one was listening, returned to his laptop to play games. “Dis has beens the best camping trip ever,” Toki commented aloud. All men glanced as he stared expectantly at him. “You alls has been so nice to Toki.” Toki humbly added before leaning his head against Skwisgaar’s shoulder. With his eyes narrowing into pleased little crescents, Toki affectionately rubbed his cheek against the older man’s arm.

Rather than push him away, Skwisgaar merely quickened the pace of his fingers.

“I haven’t hads a day likes dis in a long times” Toki continued, releasing himself from Skwisgaar to acknowledge the others around the fire. “Where we all dids what I wanted. And you all helps.” Toki turned his attention back to Nathan. “Likes when you helped pitch up the tents.”

“Ah, it was no biggie,” Nathan replied, then with a slightly hesitant glance, directed his attention to the barely pitched tent held up by the sheer willpower of three klokateers.

Toki then leaned back to his left, where Skwisgaar sat. “Or when you gathered berries and shrooms with me’s.”

Skwisgaar jolted in his seat and, after placing a wiry grin on his face, exclaimed, “Nothinks like getting my fingers dirties and stickies with unknown plants to feels alives.”

Toki grinned at Murderface. “Or going hikings with Toki.”

“What can I shay?” Murderface loudly proclaimed before reaching around to scratch his sunburnt neck. “It wash a blast. I, uh, love working out and shweating through three shirts in a shingle afternoon.”

Finally, Toki looked at Pickles. “Or whens we went fishing together.”

“Admittedly, I would never pass up the opportunity to use dynamite,” Pickles said, then nudged a dark satchel with his heel to push it further underneath his fold-out chair. “That said, it was no problem. I thoroughly enjoyed you reacting to the flying fish and spraying guts. Shame about the beavers, though.”

Skwisgaar temporarily ceased his playing to remark, “Yeah, but they ams tasty.”

Nathan agreed with a nod. “He’s right, they were pretty good.”

Murderface covered his face with his swollen hands. “I have nosching to wear thisch entire weekend.”

Another log split into two, and in its wake, caused another shift of colorful wind which thankfully captured everyone’s attention long enough for Toki to conclude his speech.

“Anyways,” he butted in with his usual, over-the-top antics, “I wanted to thanks you all for doings this and, maybes, since we ams all having funs here, we cans makes dis into a things?”

The suggestion roused all around the campfire. Toki picked up on it, but thanks to the limited lighting, didn’t see the troubled contagion spreading across everyone’s visage. “Like, we goes camping every years, but at different places, or insteads go to different theme parks or—”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Nathan hastily answered before the others could retort or come up with their own unique excuse as to why Toki’s idea couldn't possibly work. His response earned a delighted noise from Toki who, upon taking it as confirmation, stood and aimed his phone at the four other members. Although nobody wanted to, all smiled on command, though it took Murderface extra effort on his part to maintain a positive demeanor during Toki’s many flashes for the perfect picture.

“Well, it’s gettin’ late,” Pickles remarked some time after the phone was put away, and Skwisgaar had tired of playing. He pulled himself from his fold out chair and, with a yawn, stretched his arms out into the starry sky. “Think I’ll hit the hay fer’ tonight.”

“Ja, samsies,” Skwisgaar nodded in agreement, then followed alongside Pickles.

Murderface picked at his bubbling arm and concluded he would need to get started on moisturizing now if he wanted any chance of feeling slightly comfortable for the night. Toki waved goodbye as he slowly trudged into the darkness, leaving just Nathan to pick at the dwindling flames while thinking up ways to keep Toki entertained for the rest of the night.

To his surprise, he saw Toki take a stand to stretch. “Ams you going to bed soons?” he asked Nathan, then yawned. “We gots a long days ahead of us.”

Nathan was admittedly relieved to hear Toki was equally as exhausted as everyone else, but the promise of a long day ahead kept him from being too eager to flee the scene. So, with a somewhat restrained shrug, he replied, “Yeah, probably,” then left his seat and began slowly making his way in the same direction Skwisgaar, Pickles and Murderface went.

“Oh, you ams going to the DV?” He heard Toki comment behind him.

Nathan stopped and looked over his shoulder to see Toki standing near their flimsy tent.

“Yeah?” he answered back, taking note of Toki’s slight disappointment at the response.

Just then, a loud honk erupted out from the darkness, and after both he and Toki winced at its vicious sound, saw two blazing red lights turn on, followed by several others as the band’s DV motor came alive.

The DV was shortened term for Dethklok;s dethcreational vehicle, which stood just outside of the campsite, and crushing several endangered trees from its oppressive presence. The massive, thirty-two-wheeler tank-like camper, with its built-in air conditioner, heated seats, arcade system, fireplace and hottub was the one bargaining chip no one, not even Nathan, was willing to part with when they devised the plan. All had secretly hoped Toki would take to the idea of sleeping in a warm bed, in a space lighted with electricity and access to running water, but when they arrived at their campsite Toki was insistent on pitching and sleeping in a tent.

“At least for the first nights,” Toki had whined when he dragged the bag and instructions to Nathan. Given how confident Nathan was feeling at the time of their conversation, he had little issue promising Toki he’d obliged, and even went as far as pulling out one of the larger sleeping bags front he DV’s cubbies, but after a long day of appealing to Toki’s long list of demands, Nathan was starting to reconsider. The DV came equipped with mattresses and Nathan’s bed had those weighted blankets he found so comforting. Meanwhile, the tent was barely holding up, and it was cold outside, and earth surrounding the fragile tent was bumpy and littered with …nature.

“Y’know, I think I’m gonna have to set this one out,” Nathan informed Toki with a veering glance. He rubbed an elbow, keeping his eyes on the fire, the DV and whatever else he could to avoid Toki’s slant frown. “Maybe tomorrow night, alright?”

“Oh,” he heard Toki say in that despondent tone that always made him feel a little guilty. “Okays. Well, goodnights then.”

Nathan did his best not to let it affect him, and he followed along the barely visible path leading him to the broken and crushed trees and the dethcreational vehicle. Under the hum of its powerful lights, he could just barely make out Toki shuffling to the tent, and the crunch of boots as the klokateers holding it together readjusted their forms. Nathan made it to the car’s door, where he could hear everyone. Someone was playing video games, and judging by one of the steaming windows, someone else was in the midst of a hot shower.

Nathan made a quick glance at the shuffling tent in the distance. With the high beams on, he could still easily make out Toki’s shadow from within as he began to settle in his sleeping bag. Nathan contemplated. Was he really considering forgoing a night of good sleep just to satisfy one of his bandmates?

Nathan bit his tongue as he forced himself down the short flight of stairs, back into the dirt and clouds of gathering mosquitoes. He marched through the path, ignoring curious gears and even sending the more inquisitive ones a threatening stare as he returned to the dying campfire and flimsy tent. With a stare, he silently ordered one of the klokateers to open the zipper, and with an inward groan, he stepped into the dark tent.

He found Toki nestled in his sleeping back, his eyes just barely aglow under the limited lighting.

“Nathan?” Toki inquired, lifting his head from his tiny pillow to better squint and make sense of this sudden surprise.

Though he tried not to, Nathan turned defensive. “Don’t say anything, or I might change my mind,” he grumbled, then hurriedly kicked off his boots and then dropped himself upon the larger, empty sleeping bag situated by Toki, only to bump and accidentally push the younger man away. Even with the gears holding and stretching out the tent, it was a tight fit. “Make some room,” Nathan requested under grit teeth.

Despite the dim lighting, Nathan could easily sense the bubbly change taking place within his compatriot. “Okays,” he heard Toki say, then scooted a bit towards the left. Nathan peeled off his shirt, debated his pants, but then a cool breeze slipped through the tents thin walls and sent a creeping shill up his spine. He slipped into the sleeping bag, rummaged within its confines in a feeble attempt to create and gather heat, but it became clear such an effort would be pointless, and that tonight would be one filled with brutal suffering.

Nathan stared tiredly at the fine line of light trickling through the zipper’s opening. Though he couldn't hear it he was sure the others were having a hell of a time “relaxing” in the camper.

“Nathan?”

Nathan shut his eyes tight. “Toki, I said–”

A feathery yawn interrupted his thought. “Goodnights, pal,” Toki whined out, then snuggled deep into his sleeping bag. After a few seconds, Nathan could feel the younger man edge closer towards him, no doubt because of the cold, and after a minute of silence, he could feel Toki’s warmth slowly begin to melt into his senses.

Nathan reopened them and stared up at the tent’s wrinkled ceiling. For some time, he only did that, stare and listen to Toki’s breathing start to slow. Once it did, he waited a while longer, until the light from the dethcreational vehicle finally shut off, and then for the fire to die out, until all that was left were the occasional howls of winds and tree branches.

Once he had thoroughly convinced himself this was a good idea, and was sure everyone was asleep, Nathan sighed and replied to a sleeping Toki, “Thanks.” It was only moments later, and with hardly little effort, when he tacked on a gentle, “Night, kiddo. Sweet dreams, and all that.”

He shut his eyes one final time to join him.

#mlt #kloktober #toki wartooth #nathan explosion #dethklok #fanfic #unbeta'd

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