#then the goblin in my brain made me make this as quickly as possible

[manta-rain-art]

Is this something?

#my art #limbus company #lcb #I saw this tumblr post and thought of Ishmael #then the goblin in my brain made me make this as quickly as possible

[modelbus]

YOOOO MODDLEE

yeah I did it again.

(Help I have a problem of disappearing into thin air)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PART THREE OF CUT CHAOS SHEBSJNSUH

you said you would write 500 chapters.. but like obviously exaggerating..? (Kiddinggg)

tho a few more couldn’t hurt..

juuuust saying if you ever feel like it I will eventually see it and it will eventually make my week. <3333

BUT THATS NOT WHY WE ARE HERE! (I’m sorry my requests are always so long and dramatic bro I just brain like that)

Actual request:

ok so like I knowww cut chaos started from rumours but like rumours are an easy way to start plot lines k? (Also I use she pronouns out of habit but they is pog too)

the friends in question: Tommyinnit (duh), Wilbur (moosic boi), Ranboo (generation loss trauma guy), Possibly Slimecicle?? I know he’s not someone you do requests for normally buttt if you’re okay with it that would be POG, or if slime is a no, tubbo!

SO a few months ago Y/N started working on an SMP with some minimal custom mods, some fancy texture packs, maybe some data packs, and its like this BIGGG project, BUT its not public and its taking a lot of her time, so she can only really do a few streams and most of the time because her schedule is so full its hard to work out streams with friends so, she is alone. with the internet being the internet people started to think something was up, some annoyed viewers made a few rumours and people kept making things up and escalating things until people were saying she did all sorts of horrible things to “lose all her friends” but one of the most popular theories was that she was emotionally abusing them (??? Internet wildin ig) she ignored them while mostly finishing the stuff for the smp, but decided to address it in a very- y/n way. Getting four friends to come to her house and hide slightly off camera while she made a purposefully bad apology video only for them to jump out at the end and her to stand up and be like “YALL REALLY THOUGHT I WAS SOME MASTER MANIPULATOR?! I’M JUST A FUNKY LITTLE CHAOTIC MINECRAFT GOBLIN N’ I’VE BEEN WORKING ON AN SMP THIS WHOLE TIME!! ITS GONNA BE SUPER COOL AND THESE FOUR PLUS ALOOOOT MORE PEOPLE ARE GONNA BE THERE I’M POSTING THE CREATORS SOON AND ITS LAUNCHING IN A MONTH!, SO STOP ASSUMING I’M A BAD PERSON AND GET PUMPED BITCHES!” something along those lines, maybe at the end a little peek at what people are responding with. (Obviously no pressure, but like id be cool) (thanks for considering deity of the busses and models.)

HOW WE LIKING THE SILLIES?!?

P.S I’m not always an angst gremlin (just most of the time..) - ✨🌌🌙 Annon

I DO BE LIKING THE SILLIES (and thank you for elevating me to the level of deity, my ego has been inflated)

Pairing: Cc! Wilbur, Tommy, Ranboo, Charlie Slimecicle x Gn!Reader (platonic)

Roaring Rumors

Life was all about sacrifices.

Or, that’s what you keep telling yourself when you’re up at 1AM working on your server. Putting together an SMP is harder than it sounds; texture packs, data packs, comparability, world-building, even the (seemingly) simply act of contacting people to play on it. For the amount of time you spent on your computer, your hands might as well be part of your keyboard.

Sleep wasn’t the only thing you sacrificed. Streaming, even just fun ones with your friends, had quickly became rare. Although you loved to hop on a call while coding still, your online presence had severely receded.

You just keep telling yourself that sacrifices are necessary. That the payoff would be worth it.

And it really would be, but you just had to get there first. Which was proving harder than you had thought.

At the very least, you still had your friends. Wilbur sitting silently on call with you while you work, Tommy dragging you out of your room, Ranboo always willing to get excited over your progress. Every day you woke up with a text from your groupchat—typically Charlie—just filling you in on the latest internet trend by a meme.

Today, your news comes from Wilbur and Tommy.

“I think they’re canceling you.” Wilbur says casually while you’re in the midst of detailing the hunger bar for a texture pack.

“Ooh, you’re a wrong’un!” Tommy yells in the background of Wilbur’s side of the call.

The three of you had been idly chatting while each doing your own thing. Wilbur and Tommy were engaged in some Twitter competition, as far as you know.

“Canceling me for what?” You ask, deciding to ignore Tommy’s shouting.

“Existing, I think.” Wilbur answers.

“So the normal.”

“The normal.”

Although the conversation stops there, you can’t help yourself. Later, during one of the few hours you dedicate to getting sleep to stay alive, you pull open Twitter on your phone. Your last tweet was nearly two weeks ago, so it’s been a minute.

But you just want to make sure nothing horrible happened while you were busy. You’re a content creator, this is normal. Definitely. You definitely aren’t just justifying this so you can do it.

You swipe through tweets, heading to trending and searching your name. Tweets load, making your mouth run dry. Wilbur wasn’t joking.

All you can do is scroll, reading as the messages get wilder and wilder. From people saying they were missing you to theories on why nobody was streaming you. Each one seemed considerably more implausible, and before you know it you’re glaring at your screen like it’s to fault.

Some thought you had grown apart.

Some thought you had a falling out.

And, apparently, a lot thought you were emotionally abusing them. Or, depending on the tweet, manipulating them.

Quite honestly, you didn’t even know how they got the idea. The long threads of explanations did nothing but send you into a spiral, biting your bottom lip so hard that it bleeds.

You were so close to finishing the SMP. It needed just a few things, then you'd be able to start scheduling to get it up and running. You didn't have the time nor mental capacity to deal with whatever the fuck is going on right now.

Is it a good choice? Maybe not. But do you still ignore the accusations? Hell yes.

-

By the time you get even closer to finishing the preparations for your SMP, you've come up with the perfect plan to address the (quite stupid) rumors. It'll be a two-in-one; you address the rumors and announce the SMP at the same time.

"How long do I have to lay on this floor?" Tommy asks, stretched out behind your chair.

"Nobody asked you to lay on the floor." Wilbur points out, standing next to your computer. Charlie, on the other side, laughs.

"Yeah man, you wanted to be down there."

"Besides, I'm doing great down here!" Ranboo chimes in.

You roll your eyes, grinning. "I'm about to start stream, so it won't be for much longer. Just wait for my cue, yeah?"

Tommy grumbles, but shuts up. You take that as your chance to start the stream, switching it off your waiting screen and waving to the camera. Your chosen stream title has brought in a bit more than your usual casual steam view number, "Talking about some serious stuff," leading people to believe there will be drama. And if it's drama they want, it's drama you'll give.

"Hello, hello!" You smile, leaning back. "So I've decided to talk about some things. Namely, the Twitter shit. I am so sorry for everything, and I mean that. A lot. Sincerely. There's meaning in it."

Tommy snorts, and from the corner of your eye you catch Wilbur kick him to shut him up.

"What am I sorry about?" You ask rhetorically, acting like you read it off of chat. "Oh, you know. People have been saying all types of stuff. The things about me manipulating my friends?" There's a pause while you let that sink in. "So, I'm sorry."

It's a purposefully shitty apology, but you sigh and act like its heartfelt for a few moments, nodding towards chat. Their messages are mostly confused, especially because it isn't one emote-only.

"Sorry you guys are so gullible!" You shout, and Tommy practically tackles you.

Wilbur's the one to fix your chair, Ranboo and Charlie appearing next to you within moments.

"You guys really thought this one could manipulate me? The master?" Charlie asks the stream, pointing at you.

"Yeah!" Tommy shouts, way too energetic for someone who complained five minutes ago about being on the floor. "We're the master manipulators! Get fooled!"

"I, for one, haven't manipulated anyone-" Ranboo starts, but Tommy slaps a hand over his mouth and nods empathetically.

"Yeah, I don't know what you guys were thinking, but I've just been playing fucking Minecraft for the past few months nonstop." You laugh.

"Nonstop. It's a problem." Wilbur nods.

"It is not a problem!" Pause. "Anyways, I made an SMP! And that's where I've been! Not because I've been manipulating my friends or some shit, stop being dumbasses."

"It'll be super cool!" Ranboo adds in helpfully.

"These four-"

"That's us!" Charlie points around at himself, Wilbur, Tommy, and Ranboo.

"-will be on it, plus a lot more. It'll be posting those people soon! As in, check your Twitter obsessively guys! The SMP will be in about a month, too, so get fucking excited! I want to see some hype!"

"WOO!" Tommy screams, making everyone cringe at having their eardrums ruptured.

"So that's all I wanted to talk about I think. Anything to add, guys?" You glance around at the four surrounding you with a grin.

"One thing." Charlie nods, leaning in really close. "I have a secret. This SMP, it's actually-" He hits your end stream button mid-sentence. "And that's how you keep 'em interested."

-

Ycgmaenthusist NEW SMP NEW SMP NEW SMP NEW SMP

Mammalianeighingreflecenthusiest We are dumb as fuck aren’t we

Poabsenthusiest i will RIOT IN THE STREETS if any of yall be mean to MY STREAMER -> Cmwylenthusist FR I GOT TWO FISTS AND A CAUSE

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot #ranboo x reader #ranboo imagine #ranboo mcyt #ranboo #ranboolive #charlie slimecicle #charlie slimesicle x reader

[littlejuicebox]

I just want to stay in that lavender haze.

Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character/Ranger AKA AstarionxWren Rating/Warnings: PG maybe 13?/ Act 1 Spoilers / Nudity / Sexual Tension / Gore / Angst / Anxiety / Cursing / Lae'zel being kind of a butthole Chapter number: Nine Word count: 3.9K Masterlist: Click here. Song inspiration: "Lavender Haze" - Taylor Swift Notes: I know only a few people read this series religiously but thank you! Wren and Astarion are my little lovely goobers and I'm glad at least one person loves them as much as I do. And I know my other work gets more attention, but this is my favorite storyline and I plan to continue writing it. That being said, if you do actually enjoy their story… I truly appreciate the comments on this fic and that’s what inspires me to keep writing them even though they don’t get as much traffic.

-----

After terminating the last few goblins, everyone recollected themselves outside of the dilapidated temple. A few healing potions were drunk, a couple of incantations were murmured and then the group turned to Wren with an expectant look, waiting for her next directive.

The half-elf woman never actually wanted to be a leader. But more than once, she’d had the damned role thrust upon her. It was becoming annoyingly, and unfortunately, apparent that this time would be no different. What was it about her that made everyone trust her judgement; why did they let her make the calls? Hadn’t Shadowheart been doing a fine job… couldn’t she just… keep doing it?

The tired little bird sighed, running her bloodied, callused hands through a mess of gut-splattered brunette hair as she looked towards the sky, quickly gauging the time. It was early evening by now. The last few rays of sunlight were glimmering upon the horizon as that soft blend of rose and orange began to melt into a deeper, star-speckled blue. The merry band of misfits had to accomplish two things at once by nightfall… so unfortunately, they would have to split up.

Wren rubbed at the jagged lightning bolt burns sneaking out from underneath her bracers; it hurt like hells. Her eyes glossed over the group as she took a deep, exhausted breath, and then muttered, “Well... I’m sure Halsin needs to get to Emerald Grove as soon as possible. Some of us should go with him and the others should swing by the bog to pack up camp and bring it all back to the Grove. We'll have to head out from there once we've all had some time to recover. Astarion and I will go with Halsin, the rest of you can pack up camp and then meet up with us.”

Lae’zel made it clear she disapproved of this call with a hissed, “Tchk! Why do we have to do all the grunt work, while you and your favorite vampire princess get the easier route.”

Astarion almost leapt forward to snap at insufferable woman, quite displeased with being called a princess. Before he could, Wren’s mouth hardened into a thin line at the challenge, and she quickly stepped closer to the Githyanki, tone dropped into an irritated hiss.

“You’ve been given more people than we have, Lae’zel. The Grove needed Halsin back yesterday, and Astarion is skilled at both downing and evading enemies… whatever we may happen to need along the way. The Archdruid can surely handle himself. As for the rest of you… Well, sorry to be the one to say it and to burst your little bubbles, but none of you aren’t quite as versatile as the two of us, and you all need one another to cover your weak spots. It isn't favoritism, it's pragmatism.

And as for me? I had my brain invaded and nearly fell to my death today… so no, I’m not interested in packing up camp and playing inventory manager right now. If that’s such a problem for you, Lae'zel, and you’re questioning my judgement, then leave my shit there for all I care. I have all I need in my pack... Or should I remind you, I'm not the one that insists on hauling a stone wheel all around Faerun when a simple whetstone would suffice?"

Wren and Lae'zel were roughly the same height; she stood nose to nose with the fighter, her two-toned eyes boring into angry reptilian ones. Gods, Wren was growing so tired of this. If no one else wanted to be the one to make the calls, then why was there always someone questioning her judgement?

“Oi, no worries, mate! I’ll take care of yours and Fangs’ stuff.” Karlach cut in, stepping between the two women, quick to try and ease the group tension. “Go on and we’ll meet you — the Grove has to be in an absolute state by now, what with Kagha and all her antics.”

Lae'zel spat at the ground and then spun away from Wren, and the two groups went their separate ways in silence.

-----

The short journey to Emerald Grove was a mostly quiet one. Astarion felt too mentally worn from all the revelations of the day to play the loquacious, flirtatious rake. Wren, on the other hand, felt absolutely shredded around the edges of both her psyche and her body.

The Druid and the ranger had a brief conversation about her father, but it soon became clear it wasn’t a subject Wren wanted to discuss for too long. She would trail off or become distracted during the conversation, her mind entirely elsewhere. Halsin graciously took the hint and let silence fall among the trio, chalking everything up to the exhaustion of such a tedious and gore filled day.

At the gates of Emerald Grove, many of the tieflings and a few of the druids welcomed the Archdruid with a chorus of ecstatic cheers. All three beings were ushered in with a smattering of hugs, thanks, and congratulations, which Wren numbly accepted and Astarion willingly played into. Halsin soon interrupted the small welcoming party and rushed to interrupt the ritual of thorns, unleashing a scary and very bear-like chastisement to all the participants. His thundering voice drew the attention of everyone in the grove, and Wren took the opportunity to quickly peel away from the scene.

Astarion’s eyes followed Wren as she headed towards where they’d rescued that Tiefling kid from the Harpies weeks ago. This was his chance; the other campmates weren’t around to stick their noses into his business. The vampire thought for a moment that he might try and use his body to lure information from her like a Harpy used their voice to lure tiefling children… and he quickly made his peace with that possibility. Whatever the method, the rogue had to act now, without the risk of outside interruptions. He had to pry some information out of Wren tonight.

The pale elf quickly trailed down the remaining stone steps while the other druids had their heads bowed, listening to Halsin's booming lecture. Silent steps led him around the curved pathway, down to the water bank. He thought he’d see Wren rinsing her hands and face, ridding them of filth or taking a small moment of silence to stargaze or smoke from that pilfered pipe. He truly didn’t expect to see a panicked little bird, tearing wildly her own armor, trying to rip it off. He stared dumbly at the wide-eyed and panting ranger, watching as she appeared to be in the middle of a battle with… well, herself.

Wren’s eyes snapped to Astarion, where he was frozen mid step, scarlet eyes assessing her hysterical movements. Suddenly, she called out in something between a strangled scream and a sob, shaking hands now pulling desperately at her chest plate, “Take it off! Take it off! Please!”

She fell to her knees, half in the sand, half in the water. Her hands ripped at the leather straps of her armor as she heaved. She sounded as if the weight of her armor were crushing her; she sounded as if she couldn't breathe.

Of course, she could breathe… she was speaking, after all. Astarion didn’t know what else to do but answer her pleading voice. So he moved forward, deft hands quickly unsnapping buckles and ripping leather pauldrons from the ranger’s shoulders. She gasped in relief, and without a word, nimble fingers moved down to snap off her chest plate and then quickly loosened the laces of her bracers.

His brow furrowed as he watched Wren’s face, still caked in goblin guts, with thin rivulets of tears streaming from her two-toned eyes. She clumsily slid her bracers off and threw them down into the sand. Wren was still heaving as she sank down into the earth and then suddenly, she was sobbing, her entire body shaking with the force of her cries.

Gods. This absolutely hadn’t been the plan; Astarion was, once again, totally out of his depth here. How did he keep getting caught in these ridiculous situations with her? None of this ever ran on any script he'd ever prepared for himself.

The rogue ran a stressed hand through his hair before he took a deep breath and kneeled beside her, placing his cold hands on either of her shoulders. “Darling, listen to me! Shut up, right now. Stop this instant or else the entire grove is going to be here staring at you in a few minutes and unless I’m horribly mistaken, you don’t want that. Wren, come on, that's enough!”

The ranger wasn’t listening; to be fair, Astarion couldn’t be sure she heard him in her current state. She was still crying -- well, wailing, really -- and the look in her eyes seemed a million miles away. He recognized that look, that feeling. It made his gut churn. The vampire began to panic; she needed to quiet down before this all became an even bigger spectacle, or worse, someone accused him of causing her pain.

“Darling! Wren! For gods sakes—“ The rogue snapped his eyes shut and plunged forward in a last-ditch effort. He smashed his always-cold lips into her always-warm ones, swallowing her insufferable cries, digging so tightly into her shoulders as if he were hoping to pull her out of her own mind with brute force.

They stayed frozen like this for several beats; time almost felt like it ground to a halt. Astarion could hear the half-elf woman’s heart thudding erratically in her chest and then, miraculously, slow itself to a steadier thrum. The vampire opened his eyes and pulled away to see the little bird staring dumbly at him, her perpetually berry-stained lips swollen from the crushing force of his mouth on hers. Wren blinked rapidly, but remained silent, before carefully lifting her hand out of the water and brushing it against her own lips.

“Apologies, darling, but I didn’t know what else to do. Now let’s get cleaned up and then we can chat about whatever is going on in that pretty but absolutely twisted head of yours.” Astarion murmured, quite ruffled, but still lifting himself to his feet and then holding out a hand to help the little bird up, as well.

The half-elf woman had apparently fallen selectively mute, but she nodded her head and followed the vampire as he dragged her back toward the grove circle.

He was still mad at her. Furious, really. He didn’t have all the words to explain why, but he felt she’d somehow been misleading or hiding things from him all along. But then again, hadn’t he been doing the same in so many ways? If he weren't outright lying, which he definitely had more than once, then wasn't he also concealing aspects of himself… just like she had? But somehow, despite the clear hypocrisy Astarion was aware of and chose to ignore, it still felt like a betrayal to him. And yet, even though she absolutely infuriated him… the way she looked in her panic plucked at his heartstrings and compelled him, beyond his better judgement, to comfort her.

Gods this was supposed to be easy. A nice, simple plan. But it grew increasingly complicated by the minute.

-----

Halsin kindly allowed Astarion and Wren access to his bedchamber. The bear of a man often preferred to bathe in the natural water source on the edge of the Grove, but he conveniently kept a tub for soaking within his personal chambers, more for his own rare moments of enjoyment.

“Thank the gods that the druid isn’t totally removed from society.” Astarion mumbled, after Halsin helped to fill the massive wooden tub with heated water and then politely saw himself out. He was about to have a lengthy conversation with Kagha… surely, they would hear the results later.

Wren hadn't uttered a single word, but she watched as the vampire moved around her, plucking jars from the shelf by the tub and sniffing them. Finally, he settled on one, and poured some of the milky contents into the tub, causing the water inside to turn a clouded haze of pale purple. Then, he spun to the little bird and clapped his hands in his signature, impatient chop-chop. “Well, come on then, darling. In you go."

Wren sat blinking at him, unmoving. Astarion scoffed and rolled his eyes, briskly moving toward the archer. “Little bird, surely you aren’t going to turn down the first real bath you’ve had in weeks and the only one you’ll get for who knows how long. Now enough of this. Arms up.”

The half-elf sighed and followed Astarion's order with heavy limbs. The vampire stripped her of everything besides her underwear and then tugged her with a bit of force, over to the tub. The rogue couldn’t help but admire the sinewy ripples of her back, and the freckles along her collarbone as he watched Wren remove her smallclothes and sink into the opaque tub of water.

The little bird closed her eyes and sighed as the comforting smell of lavender began to swirl around her. Wren allowed herself the smallest moment of bliss as she inhaled the relaxing tendrils of scented steam, but then she felt Astarion’s leg slipping into the bath with her and snapped her eyes open to stare at the silver-haired elf.

The man cocked an eyebrow as he assessed Wren’s wide, shocked eyes from where he faced her, now sunk chest deep in water, sitting on the opposite side of the tub. He huffed and leaned back in the bath as his long arms crossed resolutely.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re suddenly a prude now, little bird. This bath is more than big enough for the two of us, thanks to the behemoth it belongs to, and we’ve already seen one another completely nude and in the throes of ecstasy. So, if you think I’m going to pass up the only luxurious bath I might get in weeks, just because you’re naked and in a sour mood, you’re dead wrong.”

Wren chuckled; Astarion smirked in response at the first sign of her potentially improving mood. And then the ranger gave a good-natured eye roll before she shifted over just enough to make a bit of room for the rogue’s legs. But still, she didn’t speak.

The vampire occupied himself with dunking a sponge in water and wiping the grime off his own body. After that, he grabbed a small wooden cup off the bath tray and rinsed his hair; pale hands moved to scrub more of that milky liquid through his blood-flecked silver strands. Astarion closed his eyes and carefully rinsed again, inhaling the floral aroma and ensuring he felt no more suds remaining in his precious curled locks.

When the rogue’s lids fluttered open, the little bird had already moved to scrubbing her own body with a sponge. With his eyes closed, Astarion didn't see that she'd been staring at him, admiring his little smile and the way his hair looked weighed down by the water.

Wren flicked her gaze toward the vampire and sighed; her mouth opened as if she were about to speak, but then she sighed and shut it again. A few more minutes of silence passed, in which both beings simply welcomed the heat as it eased the soreness of overtired muscles.

Eventually, the ranger broke the silence, her voice still raw and scratchy from the earlier episode at the shoreline. The pale elf's eyes were closed as he lounged in the tub, but quickly snapped open when his pointed ears picked up her quiet, shaking voice.

“There are many pathways to and from the Underdark throughout Faerun. Kol was out with his friends, exploring one of those pathways. Unfortunately, they’d picked one that led to a cavern full of Phase Spiders… not unlike the one we encountered down that well.

We were out hunting when we heard their screams and went to investigate. By the time we downed the spiders, Kol was the only one alive… but barely.”

Astarion passed the cup to Wren as she spoke, and a few more seconds of silence passed as she rinsed and scrubbed her own hair with the lavender-scented solution. The elf watched from hooded, relaxed eyes as the water ran down the woman’s neck, languidly flowing down to that little spot at the crook where two faint pinpricks blended into a smattering of freckles, before finally trickling to where her breasts hid under the clouded tub of water.

“My father and the other elders wanted to leave Kol there to die… simply let nature take its course. But a few of the younger generation, including myself, begged them for mercy and they relented. Kol spent a week with us before he was well enough to go on his way and return to the Underdark. But he didn’t want to go. Life isn’t exactly great for male Drows in Menzoberranzan, especially not a second son, despite the Baenre name. So, he left a coded note in the cavern in case any of his other friends hoping to escape came looking for him... and then he was one of us.

Father considered Kol dead weight… he was softer, an artist… he would often draw me pictures of squirrels or other creatures. He was about average with a blade and terrible with a bow… but he was talented in other ways and surprisingly kind. I’d never met a man with a gentle, soft-hearted nature quite like him. And he pulled a softness out of myself that I’d shoved down and all but forgotten when my aunt brought me to my dad.

My father never wanted to be a parent, he remained unwed and unattached for that very reason, but I was an unexpected consequence of his actions and well… suffice to say I didn’t always have the most tender upbringing. Neither did Kol, but he honored his own nature despite that.

Anyway, my dad wanted me to marry Zahara, my first love… or one of the other warriors. His priority was to guarantee my safety and status within the clan. Either Zahara or I were going to be the next elder when one of the clan members passed… so it was the most pragmatic decision. But I was uninterested; so was she… we’d had our fun, but the romantic love just never stuck between us.

Against my father’s wishes, I snuck away with Kol... more than once. We sometimes journeyed down into the Underdark, and he showed me around very briefly. I suppose you've never been, but it’s beautiful down there, truly. We would never venture close to the city; he didn’t want to risk being caught… turning from Lolth is unthinkable and unacceptable in their culture. But I know he missed the beauty of the Underdark… he drew it all the time.

Father eventually relented and gave his blessing for Kol and me to be married. He knew I would leave and marry Kol on my own, settle down in some small hamlet or within a city, if it ever came down to it. So, we were married one beautiful autumn day, and we spent five years as husband and wife until his own kin found him.

They tracked us for days, waiting for the right opportunity. Kol was ambushed; they found him alone by the river near where we’d made camp. He was drawing, practically defenseless apart from a small dagger. I had been hunting not far away with the youngling group I’d been placed in charge of. I ran to the screams, but he was already gone when I got to him... Minthara was among them, she escaped… but one of her siblings and a two of her cousins were less lucky, in the end.”

Wren blinked away tears that were just beginning to form in her eyes as her voice cracked. She inhaled a shuttering breath through wobbling lips. Astarion watched the little lip scar that he was absolutely obsessed with as it trembled and fought back the urge to move forward and envelop it in a kiss.

The little bird dunked her lithe hands under the water and brought them back up to her face, wiping at the final specks of blood still stuck to her forehead and cheeks. She missed the spot near her eye, and Astarion leaned himself forward, lifting his hand to gently rub at the stubborn stain with his thumb. His eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to process all the information. And then, he stuck his foot in his mouth.

“So… when you said you downed two of house Baenre… it turns out you didn’t actually mean your own husband.” He murmured, his hand lingering a beat too long on her cheek.

“No! What?!” Wren snapped, her own eyebrows crinkling together as she pushed Astarion's hand away from her face.

Astarion rolled his eyes and huffed, leaning back again on his side of the tub. Part of him wanted to back off, but the more insolent and hurt part decided to double down. “Look, you've been quite mysterious about all this, and one can’t help but assume things, trying to make sense of it all. You’re hard to read!”

“Have you ever considered I’m not here like a book to be read?” The little bird snapped, suddenly lifting herself out of the bath. Streams of water trickled from her dark hair down her naked, freckled body. Astarion averted his gaze, suddenly quite aware he'd made another misstep and unwilling to piss Wren off further with his wandering eyes.

She climbed from the tub and snatched a towel from the shelf, wrapping it around herself before crouching and rustling through her bag. Then Wren quickly pulled her chemise from the sack and threw it over her head. When she turned and looked at Astarion, the expression on her face was a heartbreaking mixture of disappointment and sadness. She heaved a heavy, burdened sigh as she slipped her camp shoes on and shoved everything into her bag before grabbing it by one tattered strap.

“Astarion…” His name on her lips simultaneously sounded like a song and a slap, “If you’d ever bothered to actually ask me about myself… I would’ve told you the truth. I would’ve told you anything you wanted to know… if you’d just asked. I felt it, that night you pried into my mind, after the first time we kissed, you know. Why do you think you saw primarily nature scenes? That Wood Elf you kept seeing? It was a nightmare… not a memory.”

And then she walked out of the room, leaving Astarion alone and staring up at the ceiling. The vampire ran his hand through his hair and then groaned, dunking himself under the water’s lavender-scented, hazy surface. He closed his eyes, effectively cutting his senses off to the outside world. For a while, Astarion considered staying like this forever… he didn’t need to breathe, after all. Perhaps he could just hide in the tub, senses numb, all alone. Nobody would miss him or come looking for him here… that much was certain.

But soon the bath water started to grow cold, his fingers began to prune, and the rogue’s discomfort forced him to break through to the surface — and to reality — once again. He stood and shook his head, spraying scented droplets around the room before gathering his own towel and wrapping it around his waist. Astarion sighed and sat down on a bench, pinching his nose bridge as he wondered what in the hells he should do now. His body was clean, but his mind still felt riddled with debris.

Perhaps it hadn’t been Wren weaving a messy web around him… perhaps he’d been the one doing it to himself all along.

#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #astarion x original female character #astarion smut #astarion x oc #astarion romance #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #tav x astarion #astarion x female oc #bg3 slowburn #slow burn fanfic

[minecraft-axolotyl]

"Go To Hell" - WIP (Gale x Tav)

I have this curse of "I can't write anything in order" (It's ADHD) so I haven't posted a lot of my writing on here yet, despite the 50+ pages of lore I have for my Tav and Gale's story XD

So instead I wanted to share a piece of this scene I'm working on! (based on Gale's First Night in Camp dialogue)

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

With little else to do aside from pacing across the grove all night, SJ decided to check on him.

Gale let out a deep sigh, warming his hands over the campfire as she approached.

“Go to hell.” He said, slowly, never taking his eyes off the flames.

She hadn't expected Gale to be optimistic about their decidedly terrifying situation, but a more polite greeting to the person who saved his life would have been nice.

Blinking at the sudden attitude, SJ replied with, “Been there, done that. Wouldn't recommend it.”

“Ha-” he turned his head to look at her with a half smile. “You're a good sport.”

“I do try. Mind if I join you?”

“By all means.” Gale gestured to the space at his side, moving away to make room as she sat down beside him.

The smoky aroma in the air, combined with the heat radiating off the fire seemed to calm the tadpole's insistent writhing.

“Anything in particular I did to deserve that lovely greeting?" SJ asked, attempting to distract herself from the sudden itching sensation behind her right eye.

“Nothing, I assure you. I'm just… poorly making a point. A rather trivial statement in other circumstances. But we've seen hell, and it isn't trivial.” he replied, staring miserably at the fire.

“So your point was best made by telling a tiefling to go to hell?” she chuckled, hoping to make light of something whatever was bothering him.

Gale opened his mouth to explain, but quickly abandoned the thought in favor of another.

“Perhaps one day I'll be able to speak to you without making an ass of myself, but it appears that day will not be today.”

“Well there’s always tomorrow.” she shrugged, already wondering what might come of their mission to rescue the archdruid. “That is, assuming we survive the night.”

“Hmm. True enough. What a difference a day makes.” he added, wistfully.

“Tell me about it. Why do you think I'm out here? I can't sleep with this... thing, in my head.”

As she spoke, SJ could already feel her eyelids grow heavier. A weariness began to seep into her body as the warmth of the flames caressed her skin. Despite the many unknowns of their unwelcome passengers, it seemed odd that the tadpole would respond to a change in temperature outside the body.

“What are you still doing up?” she asked, through a yawn.

“The fire was starting to dim. After the debacle with those goblins, I thought it best to keep as much light around us as possible.”

“I can keep an eye on it,” she offered. “if you wanted to get some sleep.”

Gale considered the statement, before shaking his head. “A ballet of flames invites reflection. I’d rather stay, if it’s all the same to you.”

It didn’t take the connection of a mind flayer tadpole to know what was really bothering him. Their shared affliction had been on (and in) everyone’s minds since escaping the Nautiloid.

“Afraid I’ll turn while you’re sleeping and eat your brain?” she smirked.

Gale wasn’t quite as amused. His eyes locked onto hers, nervously studying her face as if she was about to transform right in front of him.

“I’m just joking... I’m fine.” she said, firmly.

“Oh I’m sure you are.” Gale replied, his expression relaxing as he turned towards the fire once again. “Illithids aren’t exactly known for their wit. Famously humorless creatures.”

“Then I’ll be sure to crack a joke or two every once and a while, just so you know you’re safe around me.” SJ said, nudging his arm with her elbow. 

Hidden in the firelight reflecting off his face, she could have sworn she caught him smile.

#galeposting #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #bg3 tav #gale x tav #bg3 spoilers #gale dekarios #bg3 oc #bg3 writing #gale x f!tav #gale x female tav

[starkerhowlter]

Princess Parker -- 8

Rating: M Ship: starker (tony stark / peter parker) Tags: Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fashion Designer Peter Parker, Engineer Student Tony Stark, slow burn, stolen moments Summary: Tony Stark’s in love.

But not with the conventional. Instead, his soulmate is known for temper tantrums about pink lemonades that are too sour and scuffs on the toe of his Louboutin shoes. He’s materialistic, superficial, and cares way too much about his face.

So why can’t Tony stay away?

Read below or on AO3

As Always, this fic was beta'd by my favorite human in the world: @cozysafechaotic and I couldn't be more thankful! A special shout out as well to my sprinting goblins in the Super Starkers Discord for their believing in this fic and helping me through writing it and nailing down these crazy kids into their lovely selves. Thanks so much, guys.

I apologize for the lack of posting!! It's my last four weeks of university!! :o

8-- Advice Comes From Strange Places

        As soon as the door clicks shut, Tony’s mind is spiralling. "Fucking shit." He looks at the poster of Freddie Mercury, "What the hell was that? What did I just do? Did Peter fucking Parker come into my dorm and make out with me against the wall for..." He glances at the clock, "Forty-five minutes? Is it possible to hallucinate something that realistic while hungover?" He stares at the poster, hoping the rock god will reply with answers to the universe. "Fuck I'm not hungover, he's right. Which means... Peter fucking Parker came into my room and made out with me against the wall. Holy shit." He closes his eyes and the memories of the last hour replay in his head. One of his machines whirrs around, providing something for his brain to latch to as he thinks. 

He lays back on his bed, hands running through his hair. "March 8th, I called Peter art. March 9th, Peter comes to my dorm and calls me out on my feelings." March 9th, Peter Parker kisses me for forty-five minutes against the wall." he rolls over and looks at the wall, "Now what?" When he meets Freddy's eye again, he glares, "You are no use, y’know that?" He smiles. He is well and truly fucked.

Peter glances back at Tony's seat for the sixth time. By this point, Bucky is raising his eyebrow and giving him a "Can I help you?" expression. He blushes, turns back to his textbook and continues highlighting his notes in pink highlighter. Tony never came to class at all. Gwen, Nat, and Pepper keep glancing at their friend, what happened in the last hour? 

At the lunch table, Peter sips his pink berry smoothie, texting quickly. His manicured nails tap against the screen as he texts, they pause briefly and he sets his Starkphone down, the back of the crystal case glittering in the sun. "What was that about?" Loki asks, sitting their panini down in its container, "Is Harley giving you shit again?"

"No, no nothing like--" The phone chirps again, and without finishing the statement, Peter is absorbed in the phone once again. 

"Surely you're not texting--" Loki pushes.

"No. It's just my aunt." As if to prove itself, the offender chirps four more times in succession. He continues typing, smoothie melting on the table. "My collection just arrived. She was asking how I wanted it delivered." 

"Okay. I was just checking on you, you've been so secretive, Peter." Loki stands and hugs Peter, smiling softly, "I will come to see you later if you want to talk?"

"Yes," he whispers back, "Please do." 

"Bye, guys! Love your faces, see you for dinner?"

"I have a date!" Gwen shouts, "But raincheck! I will tell you guys about him tomorrow at brunch!" 

"Good luck, darling!" Peter cheers as he walks off the patio and to the sidewalk. He waves at his friends and heads to his dorm. He needs to think.

Tony's losing his ever-loving mind. Since Peter left, all he can seem to smell is Peter's cologne, and hear the echo of his gasps. He feels pathetic, trying desperately to wipe the feeling of Peter under his hands from his mind. 

Bucky is going to have to kill his friend. It's going to happen and no one will find his body. He shakes his head, opening the door to their dorm hall to hear Tony blasting rock from his room. "T!! Open up, it's Bucky!!" He smiles, hearing Tony's music shut off as he opens the door.

"Hey." he smiles, allowing the brunette into the now messy room.'

"Tony, when I said put on clothes, I meant real clothes. Not a tank and jeans." 

"I had on a shirt earlier. I took it off when I started soldering! I swear! It's literally on the chair!" Tony holds up the shirt, and smiles, "I was wearing a shirt!" 

"Why didn't you show up for class earlier?" 

"I was... Uh--"

"Don't you dare lie to me, Stark." Bucky only uses last names when he's serious, "I mean it." 

"Okay... fuck. You can't tell the guys." 

"Scout's honour. What's wrong?" He leans forward from his place on the bed and stares at Tony.

Tony takes a deep breath and the words start flowing, "Petercameoverandtoldmehelovedmeandthenwemadeoutandnowmylifeisfuckingruined, okay?"

"One more time, honey. I didn't get any of that."

Tony sighs deeper this time and tries again, "Peter came over and told me he loved me and then we made out and now my life is fucking ruined and I can never leave this room ever again." 

"Okay, I need you to breathe before you panic worse than you already are." He breathes along with the scientist, smiling gently. "Did you try that thing your therapist taught you?" Tony nods and shows him the paper, "And did that help?" He shakes his head. "No. Okay, um... can you walk me through your thought process as to why you can't leave your room ever again?" 

"Peter Parker. That's why. Weren't you listening?" 

"I am. But why can't you leave anymore, and don't just say Peter again." 

"Because if I see him again, I can't guarantee that I won't just jump the poor kid right then and there! You saw how I was at the party, I can't fucking do this anymore, Bucky. I can't just admire him from afar, I need him up close. I need him to be mine! I fucking love him, Bucky!" His heart is pounding as those words leave his mouth, "And I don't mean it in the "one and done" hookup way, I mean it in the "I want to wake up next to you and drink coffee and have mind-blowing sex on the counter way."

"Right. Remind me never to eat anything from your breakfast bar." 

"This is serious! I never felt this for Bethany, Pepper, Joan, Kenneth, or any of the others."

"I'm impressed you remember the one night stands."

"Of course I do, Bucky, I'm not an oaf." 

"I never said you were. But with the way this whole Peter thing is happening, I wonder if you have more than one brain cell. There is something there, and clearly, you two need to face it. Now, I have one question for you: Do I rent a hotel room for you or Do you want to suffer your whole life." 

Tony sighs, "Can I sleep on that?" 

"No. I need an answer now, you can't use your tricks on me." Tony sighs in defeat, flopping down on the bed next to Bucky. 

"Fuck. Um... Not yet but I will address it. It's only fair to him." Tony rises, replacing his tank with the t-shirt and heading to the door, "I will talk to him, Bucky. It might not create a relationship but it would be nice to have some connection with him or something."

"I will be back tomorrow. Go." His phone rings, proving his statement. "Hey, Stevie, I'm on my way out of the building. Yes, he's fine. I will see you shortly. Love you too." He hangs up the phone and smiles at Tony, "I will see you later. Talk to him, T. Please."

"I will." 

A soft knock at Peter's door startles him a few hours later. "Who is it?" He asks, slipping on his robe over his oversize t-shirt and shorts. 

"It's Loki!" they reply, "Can I come in?"

"Just a second!" He pauses his movie and unlocks the door, allowing his friend into the room, and inviting them to sit on the white chaise in the corner. "Sorry, I was watching a film." 

"It's alright. Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to make sure you were okay earlier. You said you needed to talk?" 

"Yes." He sighs, the events of the last 24 hours pouring out into the lap of his best friend. 

The black-haired fashion god sighs and squeezes Peter's knee, "You're gonna be okay. I know it's overwhelming. That's a lot to have happen to you in a 24-hour period. What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know, Loki, but I need to see him again. I can't do this. If I see him again, I can't guarantee all of my feelings won't rush out into the space between us and ruin what we have built together. I don't think I can do this longing from a distance thing. I need to see him again, Lo. Can you help?" 

"Let me see what I can do." They smile, hugging Peter, "I will make it work for you guys and protect your social status. I know you worry that it'll be social suicide for anyone to see you. I don't think that's true. We're in college, Peter. No one cares." 

"I know but I just don't want people to ruin this. I want to have Tony but I don't want to ruin this magic that exists between us. It's a secret, like crossing enemy lines. I just want it to stay pure." 

"That's fair. I mean, I understand that. I know when Tony's friend Steve and Bucky first started dating, everyone wanted to know all the details."

"They hooked up in a bedroom at a party," Peter says, disinterestedly.

"That's true. But everyone was asking Bucky what Steve did to make him scream so loud."

"Like it matters." 

"That's fair. But in all seriousness, I will figure out how to arrange for you to  see each other in private." 

"Thank you, Loki." 

"No problem, Peter. It's what friends are for." They hug Peter, before heading towards the door, "I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Bye, Loki. I really do owe you one." 

  Peter smiles, shutting the door and turning the lights off. His movie watches from the TV as he flops on the couch and picks up his phone. Why didn't he think to add Tony's number to his phone? 

"I wonder..." Peter smiles and opens Instagram, hoping that typing the boy's name in will show his page. "Tony... Stark..." He presses search and a few moments later Tony's page appears in the results. He rolls his eyes at the bio 'Legacy is for losers' and scrolls through the different photos and snapshots from Tony's life. He clicks on one picture of Tony underneath a car and finds himself staring for longer than he'd like to admit. He sighs and shuts his movie off, crawling into bed. 

--

Thank you so much for reading!!! Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are MUCH appreciated!

#shut up nika #nika writes #starker #tony x peter #princess Parker

[alteredsilicone]

The Dark Urge : Act I

A long ramble about my Dark Urge playthrough, split up between acts since this game gets meaty.

This is my third playthrough so more or less I knew what I was getting into (had some durge story bits spoiled too).

When I set out to play durge I also wanted to do an "evil" playthrough, so I set some goals: embrace the "big" durge decisions, be evil when possible without going full murder-hobo. Ally with Gortash, dominate the Brain. Make SH a Dark Justiciar, ascend Astarion, romance Minthara, push Gale towards Godhood and help Lae'zel stay loyal to Vlaakith. The results were... varied.

Recruiting Minthara meant the tieflings had to die, so I indulged the durge by watching Arabella die. Surprisingly this way the game guilt trips you less about doing bad things. (The guilt tripping aspect I will bring up at the very end, after my Act III retrospective)

I quickly learned why durge x Astarion is a popular ship - he really jumps on you from the very beginning, a total 180 to how he treats Tav. Anyways, he wasn't my romance goal so I let him be. For a while.

Alfira is one of my favorites, but she had to go. Sorry. I know there is an alternative by making a different NPC appear but I wanted an authentic(tm) durge experience. Besides, Alfira would die in the grove massacre anyways, two birds with one stone and all.

Dream Guardian interlude - I made her look like my first version of Viri, so it's a Viriception.

Since I'm collecting all the "evil" choices, I also decided to indulge the tadpoles. Partly for achievements, partly to see how it works. Truth be told I didn't use the tadpole skills too much, so if I replay durge (I might do for certain different story outcomes), I will ignore the tadpoles altogether.

Sceleritas Fel was an excellent addition, obviously I humored and indulged him since I wanted to be papa's most specialest murderer.

As I was allying with the goblins I explored some stuff I didn't previously - got shackled up by Gut. Escaping her was quite easy, just had to avoid her afterwards. Then I rushed to Minthara.

I love Minthara's character a lot - she stayed in my party throughout the whole game. Needless to say, but I killed Karlach for Wyll (and stupidly didn't get his armor because I forgot to put him in my party, oh well), Wyll left me when I attacked the Grove (I assume he died offscreen or I killed him without noticing) and I never even met Halsin so he also just died offscreen.

I could also rant about the whole "evil playthrough cuts you from 20% of the content" aspect, but that is a tired rant. I don't mind the grove massacre being the price you pay for Minthara joining your party (she IS an evil character, she straight up agrees with all evil actions together with Astarion and is totally on board with dominating the Absolute and becoming rulers yourself), I just wish there was some alternative with playing on the more evil side.

Maybe befriend goblins? More drow? Anything, really? Then again, BG3 is already a massive game... Oh well, you can't have everything.

Anyways, now that I have done the first big quest, I went to the Underdark to try out one specific thing:

What happens if you sacrifice Gale to the fish people before Elminster stabilizes the orb?

He aggros, you kill him and then after two in-game days this happens:

Needless to say, I reloaded a save and just humored the fish people without killing Gale. Besides, for a corruption arc he needs to live. This is also why I only indulged the "big" durge reactions...

My personal philosophy is that being a murder-hobo is a boring way to be evil (death is not the worst thing that can happen y'know), I much rather would corrupt characters.

However, another part of me got curious about one thing: if you bite off Gale's hand when you find him in the portal, can you present it at the murder tribunal in Act 3?

Anyways.

Remember I said Astarion really gets the hots for durge? So, Minthara leaves for Moonrise so she isn't in my party at the moment this happens... durge decided to have some "fun".

This sequence was very corny, but I know it's all part of Astarion's play-pretend so I just let it play out. Spoiler alert - I will friendzone him later (for his own good).

I decided to feed durge the Noblestalk to get some memories/lore. I hoped for more but probably getting everything back in Act I would be anti-climatic, so this was a nice tidbit all the same. Also the environment bugged out, I should be in a dark dank cave, not outside.

Gale also decided he likes me. I promptly friendzoned him. Trust me, Galey, you do not want a romantic adventure with this tiefling (also he is soulbound to Nila, my other Tav, can't have him cheating on his wife...).

Anyways, Gale is a funny case because Larian keeps mucking up his romance flags, I couldn't replay his romance scene with my actual Galemancer Tav, but the romance does trigger later in Act I when you farm some approval (so either in the Underdark or Creche, depending which path you go on). But it also bugs out (I had to long rest twice with my Tav as the first time it triggered tiefling party dialogue before promptly cutting out, probably a bug because it was an old save where the romance SHOULD have triggered during the party).

Anyways, moving on. I am jumping over some zones/quests because nothing particularly interesting happened (I helped the Myconids but I do that always so that's that, though I let Glut die while fighting the Duergar, not on purpose he just got felted, sorry big guy).

Siding with this guy has exactly zero payoff (Act II spoiler - Balthazar turns him into a zombie and that's that), which is another evil run gripe. He is like Minthara where you can convince him to go against the Absolute, but instead it just goes nowhere apparently.

I just sided with him and suffered through killing a bunch of gnomes and Duergar. Well, at least I got some new scenes.

Astarion flirting interlude:

I put this here because the durge evil face is just so funny. These two would make a disaster pair, but, alas, we in this house are women-loving-women.

So, remember me setting out to push Lae'zel towards loyalty to Vlaakith?

I went as far as to stab the Dream Guardian...

Obviously I should have known better, because the Guardian has plot-armor for obvious reasons. This game kinda sorta railroads you to go against Vlaakith/side with the Guardian. Otherwise the game would just end for obvious reasons... So I decided that I might just shelve Lae'zel along the way.

Maybe I should have made some other decisions in later acts (like killing Voss), but I had my companion-squad already with me, so I decided to let it go.

And that concludes a "brief" overview of durge Act I:

#bg3 tag

[quobber]

The Night Gwen Stacy Died

A rewrite of Gwen’s death based on the 1973 comic.

read on ao3

Gwen looked out the window worriedly. Harry was sick. Really sick. He had relapsed. She tried to see him with MJ and Peter, but Norman had kicked the three of them out. She was scared that something would happen to Harry, and to top it all off Peter had disappeared again. She sighed as she sat down on the bed, burying her head in her hands. She wished Peter was there. She just needed someone to talk to. 

Green Goblin looked through the window at the blonde. She was distracted, vulnerable. And she was the most direct way to get to Peter Parker. He cackled, gliding through the window and scooping her up.

Before she knew it, Gwen was in the arms of none other than the Green Goblin. She screamed, looking down. They were gliding over New York City at an insane speed. Heading towards the George Washington Bridge. Goblin Dropped her, and she shrieked as her head hit the bridge. That was the last thing she ever remembered.

Peter was sick too, but not like Harry. Peter didn’t do drugs. He just had the flu. That’s the thing about being a superhero, you didn’t get sick days. He stumbled as he swung through the city, his head pounding. He needed to get home and rest. He spotted his apartment and swung through the window, not caring if anyone was inside. He needed to get in bed as soon as possible.

But what he saw shook him to his core. Gwen’s handbag laid on the bed, next to Goblin’s pumpkin lantern. His stomach dropped. Gwen was in danger. He knew Osborn was more dangerous than ever now- and he had Gwen. Ignoring his body begging him not to, he swung back out of his apartment window. He needed to find Goblin before he got the chance to do anything to the woman he loved.

He swung through the city, racking his brain for where the two might be. He focused on his spider sense, which was leading him towards the George Washington bridge. His head spun as he made his way there. He thought he might pass out before he even got the chance to try and save her.

But alas, he arrived at the bridge and was met with a cackle.

“Spider-Man! Or should I say- Mr. Parker? I have your woman up here, my friend. I trust you understand what that means?”

Peter’s breath hitched. He was terrified, but he couldn’t show it. “You tell me, Goblin.”

“It’s quite simple, web-spinner,” Goblin stood over Gwen’s unconscious body and watched Peter desperately scale the bridge, “Your presence in this world has become an agony to me. I wish you to leave it… permanently. Or else Gwen Stacy dies!”

Peter could feel himself becoming more upset by the second. He swung up to Goblin, anger boiling inside of him. “That cuts it, Goblin. Up till now, I’ve been real friendly, considering your problems and all that. But when you start threatening my Gwen- the kid gloves are off!”

He reached the top of the bridge, but Goblin simply cackled and flew away from it on his glider. “A most chivalrous attitude. Too bad you won’t live to enact it!”

Goblin flew towards Peter on his glider. Peter just barely swung out of the way. 

Close, very close. My cold’s making me so dizzy I can hardly keep my balance- don’t dare try anything tricky. Once the Goblin catches on to how sick I am, I’ve had it. So… I’m going to have to make this short, get Gwendy out of here, and finish things with Gobbie later.

He was lost in his thoughts when Goblin ran into him, “Brash fool! Your end is near. Why be so blind as not to see it?”

Peter fell, swinging back up to the bridge quickly. Things weren’t looking good for him.

Now! I’ve got to make the move now! I may not get another chance- and for Gwendy’s sake- I’ve got to make this one count!

“Spider-strength, if ever I needed you- I need you now!” Peter spoke aloud to himself, swinging in Goblins direction, “Don’t bum out on me, I don’t have enough energy for another try. I’ve got to put everything into this one punch.. You understand, spider-strength? Everything I have!”

And he did. Peter punched Goblin with all the strength he could muster. Goblin seemed to fall unconscious at the impact, falling off of his glider. Peter ran towards Gwen.

“He’s down- for a while at least. Even getting together what strength I have left, I couldn’t pack much of a punch. My best bet is to pick up Gwen and run. And there she is now, out like a light. Good thing too, if Spidey’s to save his secret identity.” 

But as Peter hurried towards the love of his life, the Green Goblin performs a reunion of his own, aided by the remote controlled glider of his own design. He flew back up towards Spidey and his lady.

Spidey kneeled by the unconscious blonde sprawled out on the top of the bridge, “Gwen! Looks like she’s in a state of shock! I’d better get her to a hospital, have them give her a sedative of some kind-”

Goblin interrupted the two, “You cursed interloper! You’ll never take that girl anywhere! She’s doomed- do you hear me? Doomed- and so are you!”

He ran into Gwen on his glider. She fell off the side of the bridge, plummeting towards the water below.

“Gwen! NO!” Peter screamed in a panic. He leaned over the side of the bridge and deployed a web, “I’ve got to catch her! Stop her fall before she hits the water! I’ve got to- I’VE GOT TO!”

The webs caught onto Gwen’s waist, stopping her fall. 

“Did it! Spider-Powers, I love you!” He carefully started to pull Gwen back up to the bridge, into the safety of his own arms, “Not only am I the most dashing hero on two legs, I’m easily the most versatile. Who else could save a falling girl from a certain dea-”

He pulled her into his lap, noticing how limp she was. His head pounded again, this time not from the cold. He suddenly found it hard to breathe, tears choking his words. He took her chin in his hand lifting her head up so she’d be facing him.

“Gwen? Hey, kid… what’s wrong? Don’t you understand? I saved you. You can’t be-” He held her close to his chest, sobs beginning to rack his body. His shoulders shook as he held her lifeless body tightly. Gently stroking her hair, “No! Oh no no no- don’t be dead, Gwen. You can’t be dead! I saved you, don’t you see? I saved you…”

Peter sobbed on the bridge, feeling just how cold, how dead she was. Each passing moment more painful than the last. How could the world keep spinning when Gwen Stacy was dead?

“Romantic idiot!” Goblin flew up to the two of them, “She was dead before your webbing reached her! A fall from that height would kill anyone before they reached the ground! But for you my friend- death will come more quickly and more surely than the shock of a sudden fall!”

Peter looked up, gritting his teeth through his mask, “Wrong, Goblin! You’re the one who’s going to pay! I’m going to get you, Goblin! I’m going to destroy you slowly, and when you start begging for me to end it, I’m going to remind you of one thing. You killed the woman I love! And for that- you’re going to die!” Peter stood up, Gwen limp in his arms.

“She’s dead, Spider-Man. The woman you love is dead! There’s nothing you, or any other, can do to revive her!” Goblin taunted, “But don’t worry, my fine foe. You’ll not be long apart. Soon you shall join her- beyond death!”

“I wouldn’t bet on it, Goblin. Only one man’s going to die this day. And it won’t be me!” Peter swung down to a pier, “Or maybe you’ve already forgotten… You killed Gwen Stacy! She didn’t just die! You killed her!”

He gently set Gwen down on the pier his voice breaking with emotion, “Maybe you think she deserved it, because she was stupid enough to love a guy named Peter Parker. And he was stupid enough to love back. Maybe you think that makes it okay- fair in love and war-” He stood up and turned around, his face heating with anger, “But for me, that just makes you guilty! And for it you’re going to pay!”

Peter swung at the Goblin. His sickness was the last thing on his mind, now anger controlled his decisions. He grabbed the Goblin in a chokehold and squeezed. He gritted his teeth as Goblin thrashed and sputtered, trying to get away. It only fueled Peter’s anger. He squeezed as hard as he could, but police sirens caught his eye. 

“The police! They’ve found Gwen!” He let go of Goblin. Goblin split the scene immediately, flying away as he tried to catch his breath. Peter started swinging to the pier where he left Gwen. Police cars surrounded it, “There’ll be reporters- people trying to touch her- No! I won’t let it happen! Not to her- not to Gwen!”

He swung down and shoved the officers around Gwen.

“Spider-Man!” One cop yelled.

“Back off, cop!” Peter used himself as a barrier between Gwen and the crowd of people, “Nobody goes near this lady- you hear me? NOBODY!”

There was a murmur, “It’s true what they say- he’s a maniac!”

“Right on, mister.” Peter spat back.

A cop reached for his gun, but was stopped by the sergeant, “Let go of me, Sarge! Don’t you see? He must have killed her!” The sergeant shook his head. “I don’t see anything of the kind, rookie. I see a man in pain- and that’s what you’d see if you had eyes!” He pushed the rookie back and pushed the crowd back, giving Spider-Man some space.

Peter kneeled by Gwen. Tears fogged his vision as he held her close, “Hey, Gwen, don’t worry, honey… I won’t let them hurt you. Everything will be okay, you’ll see. Everything will be- just as it was before.” He broke down.

He remembered the day he first met Gwen Stacy… his first day at college. They’d each been unsure of the other’s feelings, each unwilling to take the first awkward step. Until, miraculously, the step was taken, and they found themselves in love.

The happiness, the tragedy: in a rush, it all comes back to him. The evening Gwen’s father died, and Spider-Man was blamed. Blamed for the death of a man he’d almost loved. Captain Stacy, who’d died trying to save a child.

Yes, he remembered: the sorrow, and the self-pity, the joy and the fear. And through it all- he remembered Gwen.

Gwen, as much a victim of Spider-Man’s lifestyle as Peter Parker. Didn’t his specter keep them apart? Wasn’t it Spider-Man who stood between them and happiness- until, in the end, he stood between Gwen and life?

Well, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he?

“Fella, I hate to do this to you, but the ambulance is here.” The sergeant placed a hand on Spider-Man’s shoulder.

Peter pulled himself away from his thoughts, hatred brewing inside of him. He clenched his jaw, “Ambulance? She doesn’t need an ambulance, officer. She’s dead. And Spider-Man killed her.”

#tasm #tasm2 #gwen stacy #peter parker #tasm!peter parker #andrew garfield #emma stone #marvel #marvel comics #writing #spider man #gwen x peter #Peter x Gwen #gweter

[realcube]

comfort with the haikyuu!! boys hcs 💝

characters: kenma, bokuto, ushijima, tsukishima, akaashi

thanks to anon for the request (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

ALL AGED UP! (no mature themes though) (i just like the post-timeskip domestic dynamics)

tw// hurt! reader, swearing, mentions of death, fluff, angst if you squint

Kenma Kuzome

bb has cat senses so he can tell when you’re sad

he can also tell bc you do the exact same thing he does when he’s sad, which is cuddle underneath blankets in bed, play animal crossing and blare lo-fi music to conceal your faint sobs

so when he walks into your shared room and notices you wrapped up in blankets on the bed, he does his best to suppress a snicker whicH HE FEELS SO BAD FOR HAVING IN THE FIRST PLACE

like he knows you’re sad but a part of his mind is just like ‘heh, (y/n) burrito.’ like you just look sO FKN CUTE!!

anyway, the first thing he always does when you’re down is approach you on the bed, sneak under the blankets and join to you to become a (y/n) & kenma burrito 

also, he might turn the speaker off depending on how loud the music is lol but if it’s at an okay volume then he’ll just leave it on and vibe with you for a bit as he desperately wracks his brain, trying to come up with something reassuring to say 

you usually comes up with the something basic like, ‘what’s wrong?’ but i mean, you don’t really mind - at least he’s making an effort and you know it must be difficult for him to think of things to say lol

depending on how sad you are, you might just tell him straight-up what happened or you might text him bc you don’t think you’ll be able to choke out an answer without bursting into tears again

then he’ll ask you if you want to be alone and act accordingly 

assuming that you say ‘no’ bc you want his presence, he’ll just recollect on the last time you comforted him while he was down and mimic it tbh

..you always comfort him so well 🥺 and whenever you console him, he always feels so much better so he just thought that maybe if he imitates you, then it’ll work just as well

so he started off by resting his head on your shoulder and whispering kind things in your ear just like you did to him, ‘you know i love you, right?’ , ‘i hope you feel better soon’, ‘do you want me to bring you some food?’

he’ll seriously do everything in his power to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible 

and he’ll stay as a (y/n) & kenma burrito until you feel better or until the sun rises  ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰)

Kōtarō Bokuto

i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again - he’s such an empath and so overdramatic

so when he comes home from work and you don’t run up to the door to give him hugs & kisses- he’s about to burst into tears himself

so he sulks up to your room now IMAGINE HOW SHOCKED HE IS WHEN HE WALKS IN TO SEE YOU CRYING UNDER THE BLANKETS

emo-mode engaged :(

his hair deflates as he pounces on you and wails, ‘(Y/N)! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! ARE YOU OKAY?! WHO HURT YOU?!’ (ಥ _ ಥ)

and the bitch dives on you while you are under the blanket, essentially scaring and suffocating you 

‘bokuto, get off me!’ you shrieked, wriggling out of his grip and out from under the blanket

 when he notices you had escaped the blanket with tear-stained cheeks, he felt even worse 

he threw himself into your arms, howling, ‘(Y/N)!! I AM SO SORRY!’

at this point all the blood had rushed to your head and you had kinda forgotten that you were sad for a moment or two

‘bo! you should know you’re own strength by now.’ you muttered, rubbing the underneaths off your puffy eyes

‘I KNOW!’ he wailed once more, burying his face into the crook of your neck

you sighed while rubbing his back, unable to supress a slight giggle, ‘bokuto..’ 

there was ages of silence between the two of you before he pulled away to look you in the eyes and asked, ‘(y/n), why were you crying before i got here?’

you’d explain the issue to him and he’d do everything in his power to solve it because the way he sees it, why should he try console you when he can just fix the variable that’s making you sad in the first place?

like, if you were just fired from your job, he’ll go full karen and he will call corporate to demand for your job back if you don’t stop him

or if your loved one died, he’ll become a fkn medium or study resurrection

or if you’re just stressed from exams/tests, he’ll just be like ‘why do you need to go to uni anyway?’

‘so i can get a qualification.’

‘why do you need that?’

‘so i can apply for a job.’

‘why do you need a job?’

‘so i can make money, so i don’t starve.’

‘you can have my money!’

you couldn’t help but chuckle at how much life-experience bokuto had, yet he will still so naïve; honestly, you couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not. ‘what if we break up?-”

“DON’T SAY THAT!” he gasped, instinctively tightening his grip on you

Wakatoshi Ushijima

both you and ushijima’s pride did not allow y’all to cry in front of one another 

if you ever had to cry, you’d just run to the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the tap to drown out the sound of your sobs and just let it all out

and if he ever had to cry, he’d just do it in the shower

but like- you both knew when the other one had been crying because of their puffy, damp eyes but you both mutually agreed to not mention it

i mean, up until now y’all had both been able to flourish in the relationship while dealing with emotions on your own so why bother changing?

and if anything, you both felt more comfortable crying to yourselves

 that was, until today

you had cracked under the pressure of your job - you were simply sitting at your desk in the study room, doing some work then it all just came crashing down

ushijima had just stepped out of the shower in his towel and was currently wandering around the house in search of you, to inform you that he ran out of shampoo so it would be greatly appreciated if you were to add it to the shopping list 

but when he entered the study to see you sitting there by your computer, bawling you eyes out..he froze

like he had to do a whole double-take bc he wasn’t sure if he was seeing this correctly

your face was buried in your hands so you didn’t notice him at first but then you heard him awkwardly clear his throat from the doorway and your neck immediately jerked to look at him

it was quite embarrassing for the both of you, ngl

like he was standing there half-naked, staring into your red eyes in hopes that what he saw was just a hallucination

after what felt like hours of deafening silence, ushijima broke it by muttering under his breath, ‘uh, is everything okay?’

‘everything is fine, toshi.’ you replied, forcing a bright smile onto your face as you went back to typing, ‘did you come down here to tell me somethi--’

‘i can tell that there is something wrong.’ he stated, walking towards you while using one had to hold his towel in place and draping the other over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. ‘do you want to tell me?’

you let out a long sigh, resting your cheek against his chest while still staring at the many tabs you had open on your desktop 

but ushijima quickly fixed that by taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finger, then turning your face to look up at him, 

‘work?’ he hummed his assumption

‘yeah.’ you mumbled, quite surprised at how understanding he was being

but then again, ushijima obviously knows what it feels like to be overworked and burnt out too, so he was able to provide a lot of empathy in that sense

Kei Tsukishima

ok a bit of tsukki slander but i feel like tsukishima would make it worse WEILUBRGBE

wait no well, he doesn’t make it worse but he doesn’t make it better either

like he’ll walk into the living room and see you curled up under a blanket on the couch, lightly sobbing from underneath- and he honestly doesn’t know how to act

this is the first time he’s seen you cry bc usually y’all keep your emotions to yourselves - you’re both v independent like that （￣︶￣)

anyway, mans thinks he can just tease the sadness out of you 🙄

‘awh, is my little couch goblin feeling sad?’ he said shakily, clearly intimidated by your figure lying on the couch, and you could tell he was nervous per his use of the nickname ‘couch goblin’

‘‘TSUKISHIMA, FUCK OFF!’ you barked, hastily wiping away your tears and clinging to blanket to prevent him from pulling it away, as the last thing you wanted him to see was your weary figure just so he could tease you about it 

‘bitch, i live here.’ he hissed, rubbing the back of his neck - feeling rather conflicted

on one hand, you seemed serious when you asked him to leave; plus, the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable by staying when you’re already sad

but on the other hand, he genuinely wanted to help

he’d feel bad if he were to just leave his s/o in tears when he could’ve done something to make you feel better 

‘do you really want me to go?’ he asked and for a change, not a hint of mockery or sarcasm was found in his voice

there were several moments of silence until you mumbled from under your blanket, ‘no.’ then proceeded to lift up your arm to allow him to crawl under the blanket and join you

he did so, pulling you against his chest so you could sob lightly against his cotton shirt while being engulfed by warm darkness

‘what could’ve possibly went wrong to make the evilest blanket demon cry?’

‘evilest blanket demon’ - that was definitely a new one, and you’d be lying if you said a small snicker didn’t escape your mouth at how monotonously he was able to deliver such a unique nickname

and after years of being in a relationship with tsukki, you’ve learned to find comfort in these nicknames considering they were a big part of how he expressed love 

in his vocabulary, ‘you’re so annoying.’ is equal to ‘i love you’

so him calling you an ‘evil blanket demon’ was, in his eyes, the highest and most sincere form of flattery

you eventually tell him what happened that made you sad and he just listens 

feel free to ramble on about anything/everything that’s worried you for the last few months bc he’s all ears 

he figured that other than make you dinner and hug you, that was the best thing he could do to help bc he was far from a romantic who’s good with words 

if he tries to console you verbally it would probably come out like ‘uh, don’t cry - i understand what you’re going through, i think, but like- cry if you want. this must be tough for you, to be honest.’

so he just listens to what you have to say and occasionally inputs a lil’ ‘mhm’ or ‘yeah’

he’s probably the most patient with you so you could stay sad on the couch for the next few weeks, as long as you’re eating the meals he delivers to you and you’re staying healthy, he’ll just let you mope until you feel better tbh

Keiji Akaashi

boyfie material right here

i’m hardly an akaashi simp but he’s probably the best at comforting you while you’re sad tbh

because he’s literally been dealing with bokuto and his emo-mode for god-knows how long so he’s very good with reassuring people😌

also, i just know that this man can detect emotions so well- evEN THROUGH TEXT ISTG

he’d text you the usual ‘goodnight ❤’

and you’ll quickly wipe away your tears that were blurring your vision to reply ‘goodnight 💕’ 

then he’ll deadass text back like ‘i’m coming over. what’s wrong?’

HE JUST KNOWS!! don’t question it bc he doesn’t even have a logical answer lol

anyway, he’ll arrive and immediately begin with the reassurance before you even tell him what’s wrong 

‘you’re coping so well, (y/n).’

‘i’m so proud and i love you so much.’

‘is there anything i can do to make you feel better?’

‘would you like a hug?’

‘you’re beautiful, (y/n). i hope you know that.’

‘do you want me to get you ice-cream?’

a king- 👑

also, you weren’t embarrassed to cry in front of him either bc you had seen him cry before 

plus, y’all both established at the very beginning of the relationship that you’d both try be as honest and open with your emotions as possible

so now, you were both sitting beside each other on your bed while sharing a banana split that akaashi made (you put the sprinkles on though so you basically gave it flavour ✨)

akaashi is definitely the therapist friend to so he gives great advice 

but if you don’t want his advice and you’d prefer him to just listen, then he can do that too 

honestly, he’d do basically anything to make you feel better 🥺

#kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma headcanons #kenma x y/n #kenma x gender neutral reader #haikyū!! #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #kenma fluff #bokuto fluff #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #bokuto headcanons #ushijima headcanons #tsukishima x you #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader #akaashi x you #tsukishima x y/n #ushijima hcs #ushijima fluff #akaashi x gender neutral reader #kenma hcs #haikyuu!! #bokuto hcs #bokuto x y/n

[v1olentdelights]

Happier

George Weasley x Angelina Johnson, George Weasley x ex!fem!reader Trigger Warnings: heart break, kissing, mentions of taking a shower. Summary: How did George move on so quickly? And why was it affecting you in such a way? a/n: This was for the Sour Writing Challenge @doctcr-reid  Please enjoy this will have a pt.2 hopefully!

We broke up a month ago Your friends aren't mine, you know, I know You've moved on, found someone new One more girl who brings out the better in you And I thought my heart was attached For all the sunlight of our past

‘It’s not you. It’s me,’ he said a month ago, it was quick, mumbled. Almost as if he was afraid to say it. A month before that he had said ‘She is just a friend. I promise’ But that was 2 months ago, you were supposed to have accepted it by now right? I mean George looks far happier with Angelina than he ever did with you. But it was when Lee Jordan had let it slip in a casual conversation. “Do you want to hang out this weekend? Fred is going to bother Katie, Dean is out doing something with Seamus, and George is going on a da-” quickly coughing to cover it up. “George is busy. You could help me out though, I was planning on working in the library.” Simply letting a smile grace your lips, you shook your head. “Of course, I’ll see you then.” slipping away and past the other unsuspecting people you made your way to the quidditch pitch. 

You weren’t on the quidditch team, but something about being there felt so… safe. Maybe it was the fact that if you screamed no one could hear you, no one would question why or what. Or maybe it was because that was where you first really saw George Weasley. Where after every win, you would run down to the pitch and he would pick you up and kiss you while spinning. It was where you had your first date, when you admitted that you love each other. It is where George said he would love you forever.

But she's so sweet, she's so pretty Does she mean you forgot about me?

Arriving at the quidditch pitch you heard laughs and giggles. It broke your heart, you knew that laugh as if it were your own. Because at one point it was. Slipping underneath the seats you saw Angelina Johnson smiling flirtatiously at George. They had been joking about something, but then they got closer and were almost kissing when George said those dreaded words; dreaded for you at least. “I love you Angelina Johnson, and you are the only girl I ever want to spend the rest of my life with.” Connecting their lips, you tried to hold back a sob as you sped away to the Black Lake.  How did he move on so fast? Does this mean that he just forgot about you? About everything you did together, every kiss, every tear, every night spent with each other? Maybe it was because she was voted the most beautiful girl in school. It was a stupid typical school thing but it had went to your brain. You weren’t even on the list, not that it mattered.

Oh, I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

You had spent who knows how long out at the Black Lake, it was long enough for someone to come after you.

“Y/N! Are you out here?” It was Luna, although you hadn’t been the closest of friends, you were still friends. “Y/N I know you are. Where are you at though?” You could hear her footsteps getting closer. Then you saw her appear from the other side of the tree, she was carrying a sandwich that was wrapped up. “Oh there you are,” she smiled graciously while sitting herself beside you. “I asked if I could bring an extra sandwich with me for you. Here you are.” pushing the sandwich to you, you begin scarfing it down until there is nothing left. “Thank you Luna.” You were almost embarrassed of yourself, probably have a splotchy face, puffy eyes, and mascara running. 

“Of course. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” Grabbing your hand in hers she started rubbing comforting circles on the back. 

“I saw George today and- and he was telling Angelina how much he loved her. And how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But that’s what he promised me. I truly want him to be happy, but I mean is it wrong if I just- if I don’t want him to be as happy as he was with me? Is it bad if I want to be the best he ever had? Because then maybe he would come back to me?” Lying your head down in her lap, she began to brush through your hair with her painted fingernails. 

“I don’t think so. It is okay to be hurt, but we have to move on at some point.”

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me? And now I'm pickin' her apart Like cuttin' her down make you miss my wretched heart But she's beautiful, she looks kind, she probably gives you butterflies

You held every memory, all the words, all the laughs, Angelina had none of that. She used to be just one of the quidditch team players. In fact she was desperately in love with Fred Weasley, how did you know that? Because she was your best friend at one point. But then George interrupted a girls night, and you saw how she caught his eye, simply for a moment before he came over and gave you a kiss. But you never forgot that look. Merlin, she was no better than you! If anything she was worse, going after Fred. Then when she didn’t get attention from him went off after George, who was HAPPILY in a relationship at the time. She is such a common goblin, borderline foul git. You had wished she had warts all over her and a mean snaggle tooth that pushed all the guys away.  Why did she even do it? Was it something you did? You had been nothing but good to her all your friendship, listening to her talk on and on about how handsome Fred was.

You felt sick now, how could you think these things about her. No matter what she had done, she was once your friend and didn’t deserve such words thrown at her. She was actually amazing. She had helped you through the many attacks you had at the beginning of your time at Hogwarts. She helped you in the classes you were struggling with, she consoled you when you felt as though you would never meet anyone who loved you. She was gorgeous honestly. You hadn’t the faintest idea why Fred hadn’t wanted to be with her, or half of the school. Actually the whole school probably had a crush on her at some point, she is just too naïve to see it. 

I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, I wish you all the best, really Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier It was easy to imagine cursing George out, it was easier in your mind. Now standing in front of the waiting boy you couldn’t remember a word of what you wanted to say, so it was time to just go with it. 

“George, I feel like I- or we-.” Your mind wasn’t letting you get it out. 

“Take your time.” Taking in a deep breath you began the journey to your inevitable heartbreak, again.

“I hope you are happy with Angelina.” a smile worked it’s way upon his face, but was soon wiped off “But not like how you were with me. I know it is selfish but I can’t let you go. So, please be happy but just don’t be happier. And don’t ever say ‘I love you’ like you did with me. And think of me while you and her are together, holding hands and kissing. So I hope you are happy, but don’t you dare be happier.” You hadn’t meant to be like that. But now you were spitting out venom as if it was the only thing you had. 

George looked as though he had just seen the giant squid for the first time. He had never seen you so angry, he didn’t know if he himself was angry or impressed. But before he got the chance to decide, you were storming off. 

Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh I hope you're happy, just not like how you were with me

“I hope you're happy, just not like how you were with me… That sounds so mean?” You had to re-rehearse every line in your head during your shower. It didn't occur to you that there may be other girls in the lavatories as well. Angelina Johnson was washing her hands listening to you ramble on about how you were hurting, how you were angry. Turning off the shower you wrapped yourself in a towel before stepping out to meet a very confused Angelina.

“Who are you talking about?” she asked with a knowing glare. 

“I don’t- um I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m sorry you had to listen to me, I was just going over something.” Gathering up your things you quickly scurried out slipping on clothing as fast as possible. You hadn’t meant to create such a mess, but George had to know how you felt. Letting it fester inside you would only cause damage. What you did was selfish, it was horrible and awful, but Angelina was at as much fault for coming in and ruining what you had with George. At the end of the day, you did want them to be happier. But you knew that he would never be happier with her than he was with you.

I'm selfish, I know, can't let you go So find someone great, don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

#George Weasley #george weasley imagine #geroge weasley #george wealsey angst #george weasley headcanon #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley x angelina johnson #george weasle fic #sourwritingchallenge #happier olivia rodrigo #sour #sour writing #harry potter imagine #harry potter fic

[bex-la-get]

Hi! I'm new to tumblr and... can I request a fic where Ethan is the one who ask questions to Nat to test the new fMRI scan, but it is set on book 2 instead. Thank you and I admire your writings!

NONNY!!! I absolutely love this!!! I'm gonna say this takes place in mid-Book 2-ish.

K, before we start, I just wanna throw a disclaimer out there: my memory of Book 2 is fuzzy which means mistakes are likely. Sorry in advance if I get something wrong. Also, I'm not a medical professional, so any mistakes made are my own. Thank you.

Okay, let's go!!

Nat sat on the couch of the Diagnostics Office, absent-mindedly staring out the window and chewing on her lower lip. The last few weeks had been exhausting. Between the news that Edenbrook had lost its funding, Kyra's diagnosis, and the stress of being a Junior Fellow on the DT, it was all beginning to feel like it was too much. She wasn't sure how much more she could take at this point.

"Hey, you okay?" a voice asked.

She turned to the source and found Ethan looking at her, eyebrows furrowed in concern. She hadn't even heard him come in. She sat up straight. "Yeah, sorry; just needed to take a break."

"Nat," he said, coming to sit next to her. "It's okay if you're not. You don't have to be 'okay' all the time."

She sighed. "I know."

"What's going on?"

Nat shook her head. "Just... feeling a little overwhelmed is all. With everything going on as it is, it just kind of feels like a little too much."

Ethan nodded sympathetically. "I understand. The last few weeks have been... challenging, to say the least." Nat nodded in agreement and he gently ran his fingers along the back of her hand. "I wish I could offer you words of wisdom or at least better advice." He said, smiling sheepishly.

She gave him a small smile. "Just being here for me is enough. Thank you."

He returned her smile and linked his pinky with hers, giving it a tight squeeze. "I don't know if it will provide the distraction you need, but I could use your help with something if you have a few minutes?" Nat nodded. "The fMRI machine went on the fritz about a week ago and I was just told that it's back in working order. I'd like to test it out and make sure that it really is working normally. Care to help me out?"

"Sure," Nat said, "but only if you ask the questions this time. It's only fair since I did it last time."

Ethan chuckled and nodded. "Deal."

The two of them made their way to the imaging lab, set Nat up within the machine, then Ethan made his way into the control room. "Can you hear me?" he asked.

"Loud and clear, boss," Nat replied.

"Good. I presume you remember the drill from last year. I'll ask you some questions and see how your brain responds as you answer."

"Sounds good."

"All right. First question: What is your middle name?"

Nat scoffed over the speakers. "That's your first question?"

"What's wrong with the question?"

"It's boring. I distinctly remember asking you some scandalous questions."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Just answer the question, Rookie."

"Fine. Paige."

Ethan pursed his lips. Natalie Paige Cusack. Very pretty. Very her. Tucking this new knowledge into the back of his head he nodded as the scanner showing her brain lit up.

"All right. Next question: do you have any siblings?"

"Ethan, these are questions you can ask me in casual conversation," Nat protested. "Ask me something fun! I thought the point of this was to provide me a distraction, after all."

Ethan chuckled and shook his head. "Fine, answer this question while I think of something fun to ask you."

"Deal! In answer to your question, yes. I have an older brother named Victor but everyone calls him Vic. The only time I call him Victor is when he's in trouble."

"And just how often is he in trouble?" Ethan asked, amused. Nat's hippocampus lit up as she thought of her answer and he raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"When we were kids? All the time," she answered, giggling. "As an adult, less often. Though it still happens."

Ethan chuckled and nodded. "All right. Per your request, here's a fun question. What's an embarrassing story from your childhood?"

"Oooh, you went right for the jugular. Respect. I like it. Okay, um... have I ever told you the goblin story?"

"The goblin story?"

She laughed. "Oh, man! You're gonna love this. Okay, so when I was little, I had a pretty big nose. I grew into it as I got older, but when I was little, it wasn't proportional to my face at all." Ethan listened to the story with an amused smile on his face as the scan showed her pregenual anterior cingulate cortex light up during her story.

"One night," she continued, "I stupidly fell asleep with gum in my mouth and woke up with it all in my hair. It was a nightmare."

"Oh no," Ethan said.

"Yep," Nat confirmed. "It was so bad that the only thing we could do was cut as much out of it as possible, which left me with this terrible haircut that, low-key, had me looking like I had been electrified.

"Anyway, Vic's knee-jerk response at seeing me with my short hair and big nose was to promptly call me goblin. And the stupid nickname stuck! He still calls me it even though it was over twenty years ago!" She paused in her storytelling, expecting to hear a response but heard nothing instead. "Ethan? Are you there? You better not have left!"

The speakers turned on and all she heard was his laughter. "Are you laughing?! Ethan!"

Ethan tried to speak through his laughter. "I'm sorry, I sympathize, really." He laughed again and Nat rolled her eyes.

"You are the worst, you know that?" she told him.

"Sorry Nat," he said, finally getting his laughter under control. "I'm sure you made a very cute goblin."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Ugh, just ask your next question, Ramsey."

He chuckled again and thought for a moment when a question appeared in the back of his mind. Rationally, he knew he shouldn't ask it. It wasn't exactly professional and went against the reset rule he initiated.

But he had enjoyed getting to know more about Nat and he was curious. “Tell me about your first kiss.”

“Trying to figure out how I got such high standards?” she joked.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to trigger an emotional response in your brain. Go.”

She giggled. “Hmm.. first kiss. Um, it was my first boyfriend, Matt. I was a Freshman in high school and he kissed me during the slow dance at our Homecoming dance.”

Her limbic system lit up on the scanner. “Sounds romantic,” he mused, pushing down the surge of jealousy he felt at the thought Nat kissing another man, even if it had been when she was significantly younger.

“Mm, not really. He wasn’t really good at it. He was kind of slobbery, if I’m being honest.”

Ethan scrunched up his face. “Gross.”

“Very,” she confirmed.

“Last question,” he said. He knew this was approaching risky territory but damn it, if Nat didn’t make him want to throw every one of his morals and rules right out the window. And, if he were honest... he really wanted to hear the answer to this question. “What was the best kiss you’ve ever had?”

“Hmm...” she hummed in thought for a long moment, Ethan’s heart pounding as he waited for her reply. Finally, she spoke. “New Year’s Eve, 2017.”

Ethan’s heart sunk. “Oh? Why then?”

“My ex-boyfriend was moving. He had accepted a position at one of the National Labs in New Mexico and I knew I was staying on the East Coast so we split. When the Ball dropped at midnight, he gave me a goodbye kiss. Then he got in a moving van the next day and moved across the country.”

Her amygdala lit up like a Christmas Tree and Ethan frowned. Clearly that memory was still fresh for her. “That’s enough questions, Nat. I think we’ve done our job here.” 

Ethan stopped the machine and met Nat back in the lab as she stood up. Ethan had been prepared for Nat to be sad after that last story but instead, he found her smiling up at him. “That was fun. I needed that.”

“You needed to be put into a giant metal machine and have your brain looked at?” Ethan asked.

She lightly hit his shoulder. “You know that’s not what I mean.” Her smile grew, making Ethan’s heart skip a beat. “Thank you, Ethan. I appreciate the distraction.”

“I’m glad it helped,” he said, returning her smile.

“Well, I better go make my rounds,” she said as she began to make her way out of the lab. 

“Hey, Nat,” Ethan called. In a flash, he grabbed her hand, pulled her back to him, and cupped her face with his hands, giving her a searing kiss. Nat made a quiet noise of surprise at Ethan’s gesture but quickly melted into the kiss, her lips matching his fervor. His hands moved from her face to her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer, her arms circling around his neck as if to hold him in place. 

Neither knew how long they stood there. It could have been hours, days, even years. It didn’t matter; they didn’t care. In that moment, all they cared about was each other and they both hoped that the moment, however long it may have been, never ended.

But alas, eventually they broke apart at the sound of Nat’s pager beeping. Their lips separated, but neither moved very far apart, as they both fought to catch their breath. Ethan’s eyes were still closed, his forehead resting against hers as Nat opened her eyes. She nuzzled her nose against his and sucked in a breath when his blue eyes opened, locking with hers.

“What was all that for?” she asked in a whisper. 

He smiled sheepishly. “I may have taken slight offence as not being your best kiss ever.”

She pulled away slightly to look at him better, a giggle on her lips. “Did you get jealous after hearing about my ex?”

“No,” he retorted, defensively.

This time, she laughed. “You did! I can’t believe it, Ethan Ramsey got jealous. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” she confirmed. She leaned in close again and placed another chaste kiss on his lips. “But don’t worry, Ethan. You have nothing to worry about.” She pulled out of their embrace as her pager beeped again (thankfully it was just a notification that her latest lab test results were in and not an emergency). “I’ve had some much better kisses since then. One of them, in this very room.”

Ethan smirked. “Glad to hear I made the running.”

She returned his smirk. “You also might be interested to know, I was lying. That New Year’s kiss was best kiss I’ve ever had. But it was beat by a mysterious tall doctor on a balcony in Miami last year. You might remember him; he was a bit of a risk taker, that one.”

He chuckled. “He sounds familiar, I admit.”

“I hope he comes back,” she said as she made her way out of the room. “His kisses are mind-blowing.” She winked at him as she finished her statement then sauntered out of the room, leaving a smirking Ethan, shaking his head, behind.

Tag list below the cut:

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added/removed):  @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @paulfwesley @ethansdique @openheartfanfics @perriewinklenerdie @little-flowers-on-heaven @stateofgracious @coffeeheartaddict @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @mm2305 @gryffindordaughterofathena @actuallybored @writer-ish @queencarb @takeharryandgo @lsvdw-blog @itsjustwinter​ @imaneditorthankyouverymuch-deac @chaoticchopshopheart​ @ohchoices​ @maurine07​ @oldminniemcg​ @parisa-kh​ @shanzay44​ @uberamsey @izzyourresidentlawyer​ @adiehardfan​ @custaroonie​ @mia143​ @a-crepusculo​ @takemyopenheart​ @toadfrog26​ @quixoticdreamer16​ @barbean​ @headoverheelsforramsey​ @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @crazy-loca-blog @dorisz

#bex answers #asked and answered #anonymous asks #anonymous prompts #ethan ramsey #natalie cusack #ethan x natalie #ethan x mc #open heart mc

[captain-mcdavid]

alternate ending - pt.1

it’s been two years... josh and y/n have moved on and started new lives. but what happens when they find themselves in the same city working side by side? can they move past their previous games and reconnect? or will old habits die hard?

word count: 4.9k

smut: yes | no

warnings: swearing, alcohol

“Oh my god, please Thomas.” You groan, “Please, can you just be serious for one second. One second!” 

He raises his hands in defeat, “Okay, fine.” 

“Thank you,” You sigh, “Now go.” 

“Wait, what am I supposed to say again?” He asks, and you and the videographer share a look before you roll your eyes. 

“Bienvenue à nouveau, fans des habs.” You remind him. “On three, okay?” He nods, and you count down, smiling when it finally goes off without a hitch. “Alright now one more time, in English and then we can all go home.” 

He nods, and then shoots you a wink. You shake your head at him, counting up to three for the last time.

“Welcome back, habs fans!” Thomas says, and Ted, your videographer smiles.

“Done.” He turns off the camera, and you give him a pat on the back.

“We really appreciate you coming in Thomas,” You say, “Thanks again.”

“Anything for you, Y/N.” He smirks, and then he heads out.

“Alright, Ted. I’ll see you soon,” You say, gathering your things. “Have a good night.”

With that you wave and head out of the arena. Setting your things in the front seat of your Range Rover, you grin, taking a minute to admire your new car. This was something that would have taken you five years to save up for with the pay at your old job.

It’s kind of ironic, where you were two years ago to where you are now... You didn’t like your job back in Ohio but you couldn’t say you ever saw yourself coming back to Canada, let alone working for an NHL team. 

You thought you had it all figured out back in Columbus. But after your life took a nose dive you realized you really didn’t. A fresh start was what you needed, and luckily with your vast experience in media, you were qualified for a position that Seth recommended to you. A position as head of media operations for the Montreal Canadiens. 

You were weary at first, because why would you want to work in the NHL after you had a huge falling out with one of the players, but the more thought you gave it, the better the offer seemed. It was in Montreal, one of the most beautiful cities in the world, the pay was double what you were getting in Ohio, and it would be a lot more fun.

Not to mention, there were 31 teams in the NHL, and if the one guy you were worried about did ever leave Columbus, there was a ninety three percent chance he wouldn’t come to Montreal. (Literally, you calculated.)

And now it’s been two years, arguably the best two years of your life. You have everything you didn’t have in Ohio; Stable friendships, a job you actually enjoy, a great support system. You’ve gained in every aspect of your life.

You’ve just walked in your front door, when your phone rings. You pull it out of your purse, laughing when you see your bosses name lighting up the screen. “It’s been ten minutes, Reid.” You say, and he laughs. “I’m off the clock.”

“I know, I know.” He responds. “I’m sorry, just this and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Okay, shoot.” You tell him. 

“Tomorrow, media day, I split the players in half for you. We’ll do the first half tomorrow, and then the rest Friday.” 

“Sounds fine to me.” You shrug, “What changed?” 

“We have two new players flying in tomorrow, but they won’t be in until Friday. I figured instead of saving just the two newbies for Friday and rushing you tomorrow with the rest of the guys, we’d just split it evenly.” He explains. 

“Oh,” You say, usually you found out rather quickly when there were trades and new acquisitions, but you hadn’t heard anything today. “I didn’t know we got any new players, trades?”

“Yeah, two trades. I don’t know much, it just happened. New guys are, uh- let me see...” There’s a fast beating in your heart that you haven’t felt for at least a year. When you first started, every time you heard about a trade you’d get a little nervous, cause what if it was him? Eventually those nerves went away, but they seem to have made a comeback all of the sudden. 

You shake out your jitters while you wait for Reid to give you the names, “Here they are, first guy: Joel Edmundson, from Carolina.” You nod, it’s a name you’ve never heard before. 

“Second, Josh Anderson, from Columbus.” 

But that one? It’s a name you’ve heard all too many times. 

Thank god you’re not driving anymore, because you’re sure you would have swerved into oncoming traffic after hearing that. You can feel a chill spread all the way out to your finger tips, a unsettling nervous feeling sitting on your shoulders like a goblin. This can’t be happening. 

He can’t be coming here. 

“Y/N?” 

The phone is still held to your ear, but you can barely breathe let alone get a word out. 

“Are you there?” Reid asks, and finally you manage to just murmur out a noise of acknowledgement, and then you’re hanging up, nearly collapsing onto the couch. You’re in full blown panic mode. 

Within thirty minutes you’ve already fully played out scenario in your head where you quit your job and leave the city, move back in with your parents like a loser and remain single for the rest of your life. And it sucks, but honestly, it sounds better than actually dealing with this. 

If you stay, and let everything play out, you’ll have to see Josh. You’ll have to talk to him, interview him, all while acting as professional as possible so no one figures out that you have history. Now that, that seems just about impossible. 

In a haze you grab for your phone, searching for a specific contact you haven’t used in a while.

“Y/N, nice to hear from you! It’s been a while!” He says, but there’s a note of nervousness to his voice. 

“Seth.” You scold him. 

“I’m assuming you found out about Montreal’s recent acquisition?” 

“Yup, sure did.” You say sarcastically. “Twenty nine other teams that he could have gone to, Seth. Why here?”

“Yeah, yeah I know.” He says, “Ninety three to seven, the odds were in your favor, but apparently you’re just really unlucky.” 

“Super fucking unlucky.” You whisper, and you can hear Seth sigh on the other end of the phone. “Well, know of any other teams that are looking for media op managers? Columbus would be great,” You ramble, “There’s a really small chance he’ll come back, right?”

“Y/N, come on.” Seth says, “Last time I heard from you, you were loving it over there.”

“Yeah,” You admit, “I do, I love it here, but that’s all gonna change now.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Seth says. “You said you guys ended things on okay terms, if there’s no bad blood it shouldn’t be weird?” 

“Okay terms is not good terms. He told me he’d wait for me to figure my shit out, and then I basically pushed him out the door.” You explain, “We haven’t spoken since then, there’s no way that this isn’t gonna end terribly.”

“You can both learn to be civil and professional,” Seth tries, “You shouldn’t have to give up your job because of this.”

“Yeah, well...” You sigh, shutting your eyes tight. When you open them again you’re kind of hoping you’ll be anywhere but where you actually are, with any other reality, but you’re just stuck. “I don’t really see another way this can go.” 

“Don’t say that,” Seth whispers, “Promise me you’ll at least try. Try to make things work, don’t just give up before you’ve even tested the waters. This might end up being not even half as bad as you think it will be.” 

When you don’t respond, Seth continues, “You love your job, you love the city, you have friends... You’ve built a life for yourself there and you can’t give that up over this.”

If it weren’t for those things you would have quit the second you heard Josh’s name, but Seth is right... You’ve worked for everything you have here. You owe it to yourself to at least try to make things work here before you give it all up. 

You rub your temples with a deep groan, a dreadful feeling that you’re gonna regret this sinking in. But you sigh and agree anyway, “Okay. I’ll try.” 

“Yes!” Seth says, “You got this.” 

“Does he know?” You ask quietly. “Where I am? What I do?”

“No,” Seth answers, “I can tell him... If you want me to.” 

“No that’s okay-,” You decide, “He should probably hear it from me. Thanks, Seth.” 

“You’re welcome,” He answers, and you can’t help but smile a little. He was probably the one thing you actually missed from Columbus. “Will you call me in a few days? Let me know how things are going?”

“Yeah, of course.” You answer, “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

He confirms, and then says a short goodbye. 

You hang up the phone, and then head straight for your wine fridge. There’s a fancy bottle of white wine that you were saving for a special occasion, and while it’s not the type of celebration you were thinking, it definitely is an occasion. You pour yourself a tall glass, grab a chocolate bar, and head to the couch to start overthinking. 

Then you decide within the first ten minutes that thinking is going to do you no good, so you turn on the TV and grab another glass of wine, praying the alcohol will knock you out, because without it, there’s no way your brain will shut off. 

After the third glass and your sixth episode of Schitt’s creek, you finally start to feel tired. Instead of going upstairs and going to bed, you just flop over on the couch, pulling a blanket over your body before closing your eyes, avoiding all the thoughts bumping around in your head. 

They’ll still be there tomorrow you tell yourself, and then you’re out. 

••••••••••

friday

You’re basically tiptoeing around the arena, sneaking players here and there to get their headshots, all while trying your best to avoid him. 

Your plan is working quite well, you’ve manage to go over half the day without a run in. You’ve just finished with Shea, and you only have a few guys left, so you go for another stroll around the main concourse, looking for Brendan so you can get his goal animations done. You’re turning your head side to side, looking out for a short guy when you hear a familiar voice. 

It’s been two years but you’d recognize it anywhere. 

You freeze for a short moment before you’re all but throwing yourself into the room closest to you, which true to your luck, happens to be the men's bathroom. You twist the deadbolt behind you, staring at the door in pure horror. 

It wiggles against the hinges, and then you hear him, “This one’s locked, man.” 

You wait a good five minutes before you finally tiptoe out of the restroom, sneaking back to your office on extreme lookout. You sigh with relief when you’re in the constraints of your office. You’re finally safe now. 

“Y/N,” Reid announces, opening your office door as usual, without knocking.

You give him a small smile, “Hey, Reid, what can I do for you?”

“I found the new guys for you,” He grins, and the smile drops from your face almost immediately. “They’re ready for their close up!”

You kind of feel like there’s a camera that you can look into like you’re on the office or something, because wow, what stupidly perfect timing. 

Normally you’d have the mind to fake a laugh at his dumb joke, but you just shake your head in panic, standing from your chair as you flail your arms. “No-,” You start to say, but it’s too late. 

“C’mon in guys,” Reid moves further into your office to clear the door way and you swear you could literally throw up on the spot right now. 

“Reid- I asked Ted to do their media stuff-,” You try, but it’s too late. 

They walk in, and you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from swearing loudly in front of your boss. That doesn’t stop Josh though, you can’t even look up at him, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “Holy shit.”

You nod your head, your hand slides up from your mouth to the side of your face to act as a shield, while you give Reid your fakest smile. 

He furrows his brows at you, “Everything okay, Y/N?” 

“Yeah, yeah...” You murmur, and you finally drop the awkward hand, crossing your arms with a huff. Your eyes stay trained on Reid, “I just um, I had asked Ted if he would do their media shots and he said he’d take care of it.” You explain, and your boss makes a face at you. 

“Oh how come? Are you not feeling well?” He gives you an out before you can even think of one, and you jump on it immediately, nodding your head quickly. 

“Yeah, just like splitting head ache,” You say, “Nausea, it’s gross. I don’t know what’s going on.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asks, and you feel terrible because you know he genuinely feels bad, Reid is one of the nicest guys out there. “You can go home, you don’t need to stick around.” He tells you, and you give him an appreciative smile, refusing to even let your eyes wander to the right. 

“That’s great, Reid. Thank you, I really appreciate it,” You’re about to drop, grab your bag and run out the room like the coward you are, but Reid motions to the boys and the overwhelming urge to throw up is stronger than ever. 

“I’ll just introduce you, and then I’ll send them over to Ted, you can get going.” He suggests, and you nod, sucking in a deep breath. “You’re looking quite pale actually.” Reid notes, “Poor thing,”

“Anyway,” He starts, and you force yourself to turn your body to the side, but you still can’t find the courage to look up at him. “This is Y/N, our head of media operations. She deals with all the social media, the interviews and that kind of thing. She’s great, she’s a huge part of our organization.” You give him a short smile in response, thanking him with a light tap on the arm. “Y/N, this is Joel and Josh, they’re gonna be great additions to the team.” 

“Joel, and Josh...” You respond quietly, extending a hand to Joel first, forcing yourself to make eye contact. “Nice to meet you,” You say, and then you move to Josh, holding out your hand to him too, repeating your earlier words firmly. “Nice to meet you,” 

It’s like your body goes cold when you look at him, he hasn’t changed one bit. He looks kind of confused, but accepts your handshake anyway, nodding with an unsure stare. He doesn’t make any move to let go, so you do it for him, pulling your hand from his grasp in a hurry while you grab your bag from behind you. 

“Sorry, Reid. Thanks again, I’ll be in tomorrow.” You tell him, and then you give Josh one last look, before heading straight out of your office. 

Reid looks a little bemused, but watches you leave anyways. You’re basically speed walking out of the arena, trying your hardest to make it to the parking garage in record time, because you actually feel like the air in the massive building is getting thinner. 

“You forgot this.” 

And just like that your heart rate spikes back up. When you don’t turn, or acknowledge him, he whispers your name and there’s a second where memories come flooding back. 

Your body is nearly frozen, you don’t think you could move right now if you wanted to. Josh comes to stand in front of you, and for the first time you’re forced to look at him. Really look at him. 

It’s been two years but you’d still know that expression anywhere. He’s hurt. 

“You work here.” He says, almost like he’s trying to convince himself. 

You bite your lips sheepishly, and you can feel your resolve starting to crumble. You can’t pretend you’re not completely overwhelmed anymore. 

“Were you ever gonna tell me?”

You find the strength to nod your head, but then a second later you’re shaking it to indicate that no, you weren’t. You hadn’t decided what you were gonna do yet, you knew he was gonna find out at some point, but you also knew deep down you were never gonna be strong enough to outright introduce yourself to him this way. You were just hoping when he did find out it wouldn’t be that bad... But here you are. “I was kinda hoping I could just avoid you.” You say honestly. 

He looks tense, like he’s holding back words. When he speaks he’s quiet, and you almost miss the way he scoffs quietly at your response. “Avoid me... Are we really that-,” He stops, leaving the sentence open, because he doesn’t know what word comes next. Neither do you, but you understand. 

You just look at each other for a moment, and it’s now that your emotions finally get the better of you. Tears well up in your eyes, and you just shrug at him, because you have no idea what to do. 

“I love this job,” You say weakly, “And I love living here, but-,”

Josh shakes his head and you stop, waiting for his interjection. “But nothing.” He starts, and then he’s moving one step closer to you, and him simply subtracting another inch shouldn’t affect you as much as it does. You feel your knees start to shake, the tears getting a little bit harder to ignore. 

“This doesn’t need to be weird.” He says quietly, “I don’t want it to be-,” Once again the words are left unsaid but you nod anyway, understanding. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

You nod quickly, meeting his eyes. You can’t tell if the feeling is warm or cold, but it spreads through your body like wildfire within seconds. You wonder if he feels it too, if there’s anything still here after so long. He drops your gaze and holds your jacket out for you, you take it and then offer him a small smile, “Bye, Y/N.”

And then he walks away.

••••••••••

3 weeks later

“Habs reverse retro, um absolutely, I love these jerseys I think they’re really really cool, so I’m gonna swipe right on these.” Josh says, toying with the tiny phone in his big hands. 

You step in with a chuckle, waving a hand at Ted so he cuts the video. “Alright, you’re done! Perfect,” You say with a laugh, and Josh finally looks up from the phone. You share a glance with your videographer, both of you exchanging a knowing grin. 

“What?” Josh says, and you shake your head with a smirk. 

“Nothing,” You murmur. And Ted starts to laugh. 

“The camera loves you,” He says to Josh, “Almost as much as you love it,” 

He raises his eyebrows at you, “Was I not good?” The corners of his mouth turn up slightly and you just shake your head, trying to hide your wide grin. 

“No, no,” You stop him, and he looks at you skeptically. Finally you shrug and say, “Just maybe next time we do one of these you could like, I don’t know look up at the camera a time or two?” 

Josh starts to laugh, and he shakes his head, looking down bashfully at his feet. “This is not my thing, you know that.” 

And just like that, that stupid feeling is back. Out from the center of your chest all the way to your finger tips. It’s dull this time, but it’s there. You freeze, you’re really hoping Ted didn’t catch on, because you shouldn't know that. 

You change the subject before anything can come of it, and thank god Ted carries on as normal. He didn’t seem to notice, he just flips through his camera bag as usual, murmuring about Shea’s video being even worse. 

You’re not gonna give this anymore time to boil though, so you turn to the culprit, “You’re uh, you’re good to go, thanks Josh.” You say, scratching at the back of your neck. 

He just nods, looking worried at first, but and then half smiles before heading out the door. Once he’s out of ear shot you sigh, grabbing your bag off the chair. 

“Time for a lunch break, Ted?” Cause, wow do you ever feel like you need one. “We’ll film Brendan after?”

“Sounds good,” Ted smiles. 

You nod and then head for the hallway, making sure to go the opposite way Josh did. If you have to walk the whole concourse so be it. 

You shouldn’t be so skittish, you know that... But things have been good the last three weeks. You’ve managed to talk without it being horribly awkward, and no one has found out about your history yet. However, you’re not going to take any chances. The longer you’re in the same room with him, the more likely someone is to slip up, like Josh almost just did. You don’t need to spend a bunch of time with him, just enough time to get your job done. So that’s what you’ve been doing, the bare minimum. Talking only if you absolutely need to. 

The habs were having a great start to the season, not to mention Josh was a huge part of that. He was having the best start of his career, and you weren’t going to ruin it. 

You take a seat at one of the tables in the common area, pulling your book and salad out of your bag with a huff. You would really rather a burger and fries, or something not made up of 90% water, but it was in the fridge and it was easy so you grabbed it. 

You stab the fork into the lettuce, pulling it up one time before you just shake your head and leave it in the container, prodding around at it while your stomach grumbles. 

You look up from your book when your name is called, Joel and of course, Josh are sitting down at a table across from you, an obscene amount of boxed food in their hands. 

Your heart is thumping rapidly in your chest, and you try your best to talk through it, raising your hand in a wave, “Hi, guys.” 

“What’s going on?” Joel asks, “Hungry?”

“No but you sure look it,” You lie, nodding to the boxes they’re holding. 

Joel smiles giddily as they start to open them up, you just grin and then go back to poking at your salad, trying not to pay attention to how good their food smells. You try to distract yourself with your book, but yet again, that doesn’t last long. 

“Hey,” You look up, eyes meeting a complete stranger this time. “I was just wondering if you could tell me where the opposing team locker room is?” 

“Oh, yeah!” You say, standing from your chair to direct him down the hallway. “You’re a player?” You clarify, just to be sure, and he nods. “It’s just down the hall and to the left. Past the equipment room.” 

“Okay...” He says, and you stare oddly as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Thanks,”

He has longer blonde hair, what these stupid boys would probably call a flow, and a long one at that, but he pulls it off. He’s got a nice face with a trimmed beard, and you can tell just from one look at him, swedish. 

He stares at you for a moment and then chuckles uncomfortably, “I’m sorry, worst conversation starter ever.”

Your stomach knots when he says that, and you want to believe that the reason for it has nothing to do with that fact that Josh is sitting right there, watching all of this. You just smile awkwardly, “It wasn’t terrible? More the follow up that could use some work...” You joke. 

“I just saw you sitting here and I thought you were really beautiful, I’m William. I play for the Oilers.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears, and although this guy is really sweet all you can think about is Josh sitting right there and hearing all this, but you try your best to smile anyway, not wanting to be rude. “That’s really sweet of you, thank you.” Maybe at a different time you’d give this guy a chance, because he seems quite nice. You briefly remember seeing a name on the Oilers roster for tonight, William Lagesson.

He’s about to open his mouth again, when a whistle from behind the both of you catches your attention, you turn to see a red head with a toothy grin. “Leave that poor girl alone, Laggy.” The red head snips, and William runs a hand through his hair nervously. 

You laugh, trying to make him feel better, and he chuckles with a shake of his head, mumbling an apology for his teammate. “Can I maybe just get your number?” He asks, and you try not to look as surprised as you really are. 

It’s been ages since someone asked you for your number, and apparently it’s been a long time since you said no too, because you completely forget how.  

Your overwhelming urge to be nice all the time fails you here, and you find yourself saying yes even though you really don’t want to. He’s sweet and all but, you’d rather not do the hockey player thing again. 

At the last minute you finally have the mind to put a fake number in, and you feel bad momentarily as he smiles and says bye, but as soon as you see the empty spot at Joel’s table, you just feel panicked instead.

Josh is gone... Does that mean he didn’t hear?

You pack up your things and then stop beside Joel, he side eyes you and then makes a face and you just frown. 

“Coach texted Josh, so he wasn’t lucky enough to hear that whole thing... Me on the other hand?” He takes an obnoxious bite of his food as he shoots you a wink, and all you can do is roll your eyes, and walk away. “That was hilarious!” Joel calls behind you, and you just wave him off, but really, there’s some relief setting in when you find out that Josh missed that last part. 

When you arrive back at your office, there’s a note from your boss, and a box on your desk. 

“Head home early today. Boys will be preparing for the game. We can finish up on Monday. -Reid” Is written in his chicken scratch on a bright pink sticky note. 

You do a happy little wiggle, and then reach for the box. It smells amazing, and your stomach grumbles at the thought, but then when you open it and realize what it is, you’ve suddenly lost your appetite. 

It’s pad thai and spicy yam chicken... Your favorite. 

You know instantly this isn’t from Reid... There’s probably only one person in the world who knows what your order is. You used to go to that thai place by his house all the time, and you’d always order the same thing. 

You don’t even put your bag down, you just leave the food on your desk and turn the light off before walking out. 

You try your best not to think about everything that happened today on your way home, because it felt like a huge step back after three weeks of progress. 

You stop for some groceries, and take a look in a little boutique, anything to keep your mind busy. When you arrive home you play music almost as loud as it can go, hoping it will drown out your thoughts. Over the last three weeks you’ve done enough thinking about this, you’re tired. 

So you workout, shower, make some dinner, and then you sit down to watch the game, pinching yourself every time you find your eyes lingering on number seventeen a little too long. 

The game is pretty slow, the boys aren’t playing their best, Edmonton is on their game and you just know they’re not gonna come out of this one with the two points, but you watch anyway. You kind of want to turn it off and switch to something else after the second period, but you give in and stick around for the third. 

All is fine and normal until the five minute mark ticks down on the clock. 

The camera spans to the right to follow the players going up the ice, when you hear the commentator say, “Big battle, in front of the net...”

And your heart just about stops, because you have a feeling you know exactly who it is. Guess Joel was wrong... He did hear the whole thing. 

“Anderson, and Lagesson, they’re still tied up together. Anderson is hot.”

#gpp fic #liv writes #josh anderson #josh anderson imagine #montreal canadiens #montreal canadiens imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #NHL Hockey #hockey imagines

[ag3ntl3vi]

Hoodie X GN! Reader X Masky | “Rock Paper Sisscors” |☁️

This struck me at like, 3AM while listening to Devil in Diguise. I’ll probably write more parts to this tonight if im being honest. 

!Gender-Neutral reader!

Trigger Warnings: Sexual mentions. 

Word Count: 2,317

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

"Can you go any slower?" You laughed, stopping to allow your friend to catch up. Sweat dotted her chocolatey forehead as she panted. 

"Yes! I can." She wheezed. "You're just too fast!" Taylor whined loudly, bending herself in half to try and catch her breath. You rolled your eyes and pulled her up, raising her arms over her head. 

"You'll breathe better this way," You told her, taking a step back and taking a long sip of your icy water. Taylor nodded her thanks and slowed her breathing gradually. 

        "Wanna keep going?" You asked as you wiped your mouth on your wrist. Taylor feriously shook her head. "I'll pass, (Y/n)." She whimpered. You put yout arms behind your head as you began to walk down the worn dirt bath. 

"That sucks," You murmered. "We were only 1/4th of the way done."

Taylor gaped at your cocky smirk. "And you do this everyday?"

You nodded. "Twice a day if I'm feelin' lucky," You winked and giggled. Taylor shook her head in disbelief. 

"You're a machine," She grumbled, jogging to your side. You could tell she was tired, but she was the one who asked to join you in your near-night run. She said she needed the exercise to get the perfect "summer body", even though it was fall. 

You hummed. "I didn't know they made sexy machines now." Taylor pushed away the urge to roll her eyes, though she desperately wanted to. She chose not to answer your stupid comment. You both started to walk back to your dorm and planned a junk food movie night. You had the feeling she wouldn't last, but you couldn't say no to her puppy face. You had to admit, you were a sucker for your best friend.          Taylor ended up chugging the rest of her and your water bottles greedily, but you didn't blame her. She was pretty out of shape. The darker skinned girl took a large gasp of fresh oxygen after finishing off your beverage. 

"Learn to breathe, my God," You snorted. She glared.

"I just ran a mile, you can shut your mouth, you fucking monster," She hissed playfully. 

School campus soon came into view after your bickering. Taylor grumbled about how badly her feet ached and how she was never running ever again. You parted ways at the dorm. Taylor wanted to get the living room set up for the movie and sent you out for snacks and drinks. You easily migrated to the everything store. That wasn't its actual name, you couldn't care to remember what it was, but the everything store seemed to suit the run down shop better. 

        You pushed thr glass double doors open, a cute bell ringing to announce your presence to the cashire, Michael. 

"(Y/n)!" He greeted with a smile. You returned the facial gester with a small wave of your own.          "What're you here for this time?" He leaned his head on his open palm, his eyes trained on your figure. You had your back turned to him as you read the movie names on the rack. 

"What does it look like?" You chuckles, plucking a familar title from the shelf. 'Kiki's Delivery Service', a childhood favorite of yours. Michael didn't verbally answer, he was too busy allowing his eyes to roam your every curve. 

His eyes snapped to the side when you turned around to wonder down the candy isle. You shoved a KitKat , snickers, and (f/c) into your arm (allowing an extra of your favored one into your pocket, shh) before you turned the corner, finding the energy drinks. With a childish grin you grabbed a few of the better Monster flavors. You knew you had popcorn at the dorm so you didn't bother trying to find a box here. 

        You decided to check out as quickly as possible, avoiding as much conversation with Michael as you could. He gave you the creeps. He always tended to make sexual remarks regarding your running outfit, like how your shorts made your ass look plump or how cute you looked with a flushed, tired expression. In general, he didn't seem like a good guy or influence, though Taylor took an odd interest in him. She always had shitty tastes in men. 

It was getting late, you noticed. The sun started to darken as students scrambled to their respected dorms or apartments off campus. You made your way to your room. The illuminated cobblestone path gave you the worst horror movie vibes, so to say you booked it was an understatement. As soon as you were inside the safe confindments of your dorms living area, you released a loud sigh of relief. You thought about taking the elevator up, but decided on the stairs to the third story. You were very grateful you were on a higher floor, to you it served as a lesser chance of being robbed or murdered. 

"I brought a movie, candy and monsters, come on, you filthy goblin." you called into the freakishly neat room. Taylor was a very, very messy person so you tended to pick up after her more than you'd happily admit. It didn't take long for you to set positions for certain objects in specific places. Example, your shoes stayed in a small, plastic, blue bin by the door. They didn't ever make it to the carpeted floor of the living room. You had a key rack by the door so your keys were never lost or misplaced and Taylor had insisted you needed a coat rack, so your bookbags and Taylor's purses hung there. Any extra blankets, pillows, and sheets were placed neatly in the spare closet. 

        "Monsters..?" Her brown head popped out from around the corner. 

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

Taylor had passed out halfway through the movie, not that you were surprised. You pouted. You were very well use to it, but it wasn't any less disappointing when it happened. You carefully laid her on the couch, not bothering to wake her. She was a literal demon when she was woken up. You covered her body in a large, fluffy blanket before standing, pacing for a moment. 

You wondered back to your organized room and grabbed your large spray bottle you kept on your dresser. You stared down your mass of plants in your window seal and the few on your night stand and hanging from the ceiling before watering the ones that needed it, leaving your Rainbow Bush succulent alone. Satisfied, you grabbed your school jacket and your earbuds and phone before slipping your shoes on at the door. 

It was almost 1 before Taylor and you had finally settled enough to sit and watch the movie, so it was fairly late now. But, regretfully, your body was still pumped from the sugary drinks you consumed not long ago. You made a quick choice to go on a short run to tire yourself out a bit before retiring for the night. Sure, wasn't the best idea to go out at night, alone and defenceless, but you prided yourself in your speed if needed. Besides, you've done it before and you were obviously still alive!

You made your way to the dirt path you ran earlier in the day, struggling to remember a stupid songs name. You grinned when you figured it out and hurriedly played it. The opening played through your earbuds as you gently bobbed your head to the beat.

"There are boulders on my shoulders, collar bones begin to crack, there is very little left of me and it's never coming back," You sung softly along with 'Be nice to me'. An old, but greatly loved song from your middle school years. You began to run.

Your lips parted in a content smile as a phrase slipped past your teeth.

"You're a killer, and i'm your best friend. I think it's unfair, your situation," 

You began to bounce on the balls of your feet excitedly. "You say i'm changing! I'm sorry I didn't know I had to stay the same!" You jumped as your legs moved, your voice growing louder and bolder with every word thoughtlessly spilling out your mouth. You became unaware of the eyes watching your movements, head tilted in confusion. 

"Your voice is driving me insane!" You shouted, hopping more as you swished your head side to side, getting louder everytime the phrase was repeated. The last note rang through your ears and you let out a joyful that was quickly cut off. The overbearing feeling of being watched dawned on you. 

You jerked around and scanned the treeline, your eyes falling on a tall male facing you with a tilted head. You stared at him, confused before your gaze fell on the bloodied pipe dangling by his side. You fearfully and turned around, bolting in the direction the path led you to. You didn't have much time to understand why he was watching you, but you could hear his heavy footsteps crushing dead leaves as he raced after you. 

'Molly' blasted into your ears loudly, making you jerk in surprise. If you were going to die tonight, you were glad this was the song you'd die to. 

You could hear him distantly still chasing after you. Not to brag, but you could run a mile amd keep going onto the next without breaking too much of a sweat, though you'd be fairly tired.          Speaking of tired, you could feel the drousiness spreading to your head and deep down you knew that you couldn't keep the pace up for much longer. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned into the woods, lifting your feet high so you wouldn't be the stupid one to trip on a root and be killed first. That would be an embarrassing way to die and not even Molly could make it better, you concluded. 

So you did the most logical thing your sleepy brain could think of.

You climbed a fucking tree.

The man was a far enough distance for you to get a good amount of height between the two of you. You panted, your palms itching with needle-like pain from the rough and merciless bark, but pulled yourself up another branch and looked down. The man was panting heavily, bent over as he struggled to force air into his most likely burning lungs.  He stood up after a quick second, glaring up the tree at you.

Childishly, but overcome with a sense of acomplishment, you stuck your tongue out at him. 

Bad idea, you concluded when the guy's gloved fists clenched by his sides and he started to climb. 

You squealed. "No! Fuck off!" You shouted. "Pick another goddamn tree, you humanoid orange!" A growl ripped through your teeth as you glared fearfully at him.          To your surprise, he got down. He moved his head to stare at you before sitting indian style, his face pointed to you.

For the first time you had a proper look at him, and you weren't surprised. He looked like he came from a shitty horror movie. He wore an orange hoodie with a ski mask hiding his facial features, a red frowny face sitched into it. He had dark blue, wore out jeans and black boots that looked to be kept as clean as Taylor would keep her living space. 

'Best friend' Began to play quietly through your (f/c) earbuds and you forced down a snort at the timing. You were hoddled up in a tree while a guy who most likely wanted you dead watched from below. You shook your head and glanced at the dark sky.

'The stars are out' You thought as you spotted the little dipper, the big one wasn't far away from it's child. 

It only took about ten minutes for your easily distracted mind to get bored. You stared down at the hooded man as he drew in the dirt with his pipe. An idea struck you, a bad one, but an idea nevertheless. And it wasn't going to kill you, with a lot of hope, it may allow you to live another day. 

"Yo, tangerine!" He flinched at your loud voice, moving his head to stare at you. 

You held up a fist with your dominate hand, your opposite going under it, palm up and open.

"Wanna play rock, paper, sisscors before I die?" 

The man stilled before very, and I mean very slowly nodded. You allowed yourself to snort. Now you were going to play a childs game with a murderer. 

"Do you know how to play?" You called down. He nodded again and held up his hands. "Cool," You said.

The orange-clad killer was absolute shit at rock, paper, sisscors. He was even worse than your nephew, who was six and had the attention span of a squirell. Sometime in your game playing, you had moved yourself a few branches down to see him better in the dark woods. You now sat a branch above his head.          He didn't move much, but his shoulders seemed to slump.

You threw rock, again, and he threw sisscors. You gave an evil victory crackle whiele he glared gloomily at his open fingers.          "That was fun," You stretched your arms over your head, yawning. "Can I go now?" You calmly asked. 

He didn't move for a long while, looking between you and his gloved hands, the, back to you. Finally, he nodded. You hopped down, smiling widely. 

"Thanks," You said nervously. He was trying to kill you earlier, so you wouldn't be completely off guard around him. You started to shuffle around him cautiously. His arm shot out, grabbing your upper arm roughly. You flinched hard, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

This is it, You thought He changed his mind and wants to eat me!

Instead, you heard a deep voice whisper.

"You can leave if we can play again soon."

#creepypasta #x reader #hoodie x reader #hoodie #masky #marble hornets #fanfiction #masky x reader #poly relationship #masky x reader x hoodie #cp #i dont know what im doing #rock paper sisscors #murderer #tim wright #brian thomas

[flowers-of-io]

The Legionless

So VoG drops tomorrow and I’ll be trying my best at a Day One run! But most importantly, I wanted to celebrate it with some lore analysis until my theories are proven wrong by canon.

So, Kabr.

1) Aspect

We actually heard from him in D2 at least twice. There’s the Kabr's Glass Aegis jumpship from CoO and the Gnomic chapter from my beloved book Aspect. Aspect is weird in itself, but in short, it’s a story about the Black Garden first and foremost, and how what I believe is the Darkness waking up affects the Sol Divisive. And, of course, what it means to Praedyth and the Ishtar Collective teams stuck in the Vex network.

I think what happens in Gnomic is Kabr slowly losing himself to the Vex. I have no idea why he is/is not walking in the Garden, but my theories about how everything that has ever happened and will ever happen is happening somewhere in the Garden is a thing for another time and I’ll spare you the brainworms for now. Anyway, the sentences are crowded and interweaving and messy and I think it’s the Vex collective mind and Kabr’s mind mixing at this point.

(Watch your six don't worry about me grow grow grow)

Ok buddy Goblin

(Who knows what's listening it's listening it's saying grow grow grow)

GROW GROW GROW this sounds so Vexy. That’s what they do. They possess you and grow inside you (see: Asher). And that’s what the Garden does, it grows, it grows into you and you grow into the Garden. “Everything in the Garden becomes of the Garden”. “Everything grows here,” Jolyon said.

There is a shape that is his mind and the shape is protect the shape is sacrifice the shape is (grow)

This is Kabr realising the final shape, I think--”final shape” as in “the state of the universe the Vex strive towards”. It speaks for itself, the shape is protect the shape and sacrifice for the shape and grow towards the shape and uh remember my aiat essay--

A Titan is a Wall a Shield a Cup filling itself to overflowing. The container changes the shape of its contents but the contents change the nature of the container and the nature is eternity.

This just sounds as something Toland would say. The container changes the shape of its contents but the contents change the nature of the container and the nature is eternity and my brain is on fire???

Okay. Kabr is the container. The radiolaria he so ingeniously drank is the new content. Kabr changes the shape of the Vex but the Vex change Kabr’s nature; and the nature is eternity, so they change the way Kabr relates to it? We know Guardians are immortal and the Vex as a collective also (in a way), but these are two different immortalities. Eternity means different things to them. They have a different relation to it. From what I see, the Vex changed the way Kabr perceives eternity, from the Guardian way to the Vex way. But he changed the shape of the content, so he, in a way, is still Kabr.

He was named too well he is his own grave and the cut on his left hand will never heal.

This is both obvious and intricately weird. ‘Kabr’ means ‘grave’ in Arabic; pretty telling. And the cut on the hand that never heals we see in Legends: The Black Garden Grimoire card, but there it is Pujari who has it:

I am Pujari. These are the visions I have had of the Black Garden. [...]

At the end of the path grew a flower in the shape of a Ghost. I reached out to pluck it and it cut me with a thorn. I bled and the blood was Light. [...]

When my Ghost raised me from the sea there was a thorn-cut in my left hand and it has not healed since.

I’m dying to know what the connection here is. I have no idea. No theory, no explanation.

Also what’s with the ^K^V^s? Green from FFC had an interesting theory about this being some kind of music writing but I didn’t understand it so I won’t quote, but I recommend the FFC episodes on Aspect because they’re fascinating. And, well, we know that Vex and music are strongly connected.

2) Aegis

.................Or is he? Is he losing himself truly?

Relic: The Aegis seems to document Kabr’s last clear thoughts before the Vex interweave themselves with him:

I have destroyed myself to do this. They have taken my Ghost. They are in my blood and brain. But now there is hope. I have made a wound in the Vault. I have pierced it and let in the Light. Bathe in it, and be cleansed. Look to it, and understand: From my own Light and from the thinking flesh of the Vex I made a shield. The shield is your deliverance. It will break the unbreakable. It will change your fate. Bind yourself to the shield. Bind yourself to me. And if you abandon your purpose, let the Vault consume you, as it consumed me. Now it is done. If I speak again, I am not Kabr.     

Now let me introduce you to the final line of Kabr's Glass Aegis:

it was/was/was not done i/i speak again and was wrong i am still him and i am now them and   THAT   IS   FUTURE^V^V 

DO YOU SEE IT? DO YOU SEE THE PARALLEL? I SEE THE PARALLEL

while joined( Glass, Sky )

The Vex are “glass and silica”, the Sky is another term for the Light.

I guess the “cases” (past, present, future) mentioned in the loretab talk about the Vex’s (im)possibility to return to the primordial Garden, or at least the primordial state before the Winnower threw hands with the Gardener.

case Past:

return( i m p o s s i b l e )

// grazing, rocked, major, distilled.

case Present:

return( v e s t i g i a l )

// vault, aegis, awakened, infinite.

case Future:

// return( i n e v i t a b l e )

// light, truth, dark.

Vestigiality is an occurence when in the evolution process some species’ organs lose their previous function because it is not needed anymore, but retain those organs. Make of that what you will, I have my theories but I can’t quite put them into words.

if( t h e   w a r d e n s   s e e   t h e   BRIGHT   a s   d e a t h ) &&

( t h e   THINKERS   e q u a t e   BLACK   w i t h   e n d ) then

What is going on??? I guess we’re the Thinkers but who is the Wardens??

their/our/their desire is not malevolent it is survival she is/was/is wrong there is no evil there is no despise there is no   SEPARATION   there is harmony inside if you/you/you allow it

This, I think, speaks about the Exo Stranger. She said the Vex were “an evil which surpasses all other evil” when she tasked us with destroying the Black Heart. The “there is no separation” seems to be about how the Vex are now Kabr and Kabr is the Vex and the Vex wish to see the world be them and everything to be the pattern as they are the pattern and *gasps for air*

Harmony. I. The music.

Also the final flower pattern was repetitive. Is that harmony? No. Does it hit oddly close to home for me? Yea.

Also the ^K^V^s appear in this entry as well and I still have no idea what they mean.

3) Theory

Kabr is not gone. Kabr is Kabr. The Vex did not eat him up, they have woven themselves into him and they are now one, the Vex and him. I think this is what might have happened to Asher, too.

And I think Kabr will come back, in a way. At least that’s not the last that we’ve heard from him.

(I put this quickly and without thinking much & just riding on the hype, so forgive me if it seems a bit incomprehensible.)

#i like my lore with coffee #kabr #vexed #destiny 2 #vault of glass

[djarinslover]

Insecurities

Warnings: Slight suggestive themes, eating disorder mention (brief), angst, fluff

I had a female Reader in mind, but I did try to make this as neutral as possible

Sam-

After getting out of the outrageously fancy shower (thank you, Zemo), you were staring at yourself in the long mirror in your room. Twisting and turning to look at your body. You pinched and grabbed your thighs, face pinching in disappointment as you take note of the extra weight you gained in the past months. You didn't notice Sam sneaking up behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, dipping his head into the crook of your neck to press light kisses. You don't even acknowledge him, making him meet your eyes in the mirror. He frowned as he examined your face, noticing the scowl on your lips.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Sam, do you think I'm getting fat?"

"What?!" He lets you go, moving to stand in front of you, blocking your vision from the criticizing gaze in the mirror. "Baby, why would you ask that?"

"Because I'm getting more stretch marks on my thighs and ass, and my pants barely fit anymore."

Sam raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile filling his face. He reaches down to grab your ass through your robe, bringing you closer to him. "Thick thighs save lives, baby. Isn't that what the kids say?"

"Ugh, Samuel." You push away from him with an exasperated groan, heading for the duffle bag thrown on the bed. "I'm asking you a serious question."

He hurries after you, reaching to grab your hand. He spins you around, hand tilting your head up to make you look him in the eye. He's grinning, that lovely little gap in his teeth making you feel warm. His hands run down your arms before he bends slightly, gripping your thighs. He gropes you, making you blush.

"Baby, you are abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous to me. I don't think you're fat at all. Don't roll your eyes at me."

Sam pushes you onto the bed, leaning down so his face was hovering right over your stomach. His eyes glint in the soft sunlight that's streaming though the windows. His hands run up and down your legs, chin resting on your stomach. "I don't care about your stretch marks. I don't care if your pant size goes up or down. I just care that you see yourself as beautiful as I see you." He unties your robe, leaving you bare to his gleaming gaze. "Besides, the more meat you got down here means the more for me to grab and kiss and love on."

He punctuates his sentence by swooping down to your thigh and sucking a hickey on the inside, leaving you breathless. His eyes meeting yours, a sly grin on his lips. "Can I show you how much I appreciate your body?'

"Please," you breathe out, all insecurities flying out the window.

Bucky-

"Hey, doll?"

You shrink under the covers of the large bed, trying to hide away from your boyfriend. You knew you had important stuff to take care of in Riga, but you couldn't bring yourself to get out of bed.

"Doll, what are you doing in bed? You need to get up."

Bucky goes to pull the blankets back but you hold on tight, groaning from your spot. He chuckles above you. "Let's not act like some sleep goblin, alright? Get up, what's going on with you?"

"Will you still love me even though I'm getting fat?" you mumble.

"Huh?"

You throw the blankets back to reveal your tear stained face, lips cracked and bitten red, eyes swollen. "Do you still love me even though I'm fat?"

Bucky sits next to you, bringing you into a tight hug. "Honey, of course I would love you! What are you talking about?"

"I feel like nothing fits me anymore, like everything is too tight. My arms and stomach look bigger and, and-" you begin heaving, tears filling your eyes again.

Bucky cradles your head, shushing you as you sob into his chest. He lays kisses on the top of your head, holding you as tight as possible. When you calm down, he lifts your head to kiss along your tear streaks. His breath is warm and comforting, keeping you grounded to the reality that he's here and holding you and he loves you.

You take a shuddering breath, clinging onto Bucky's shirt as he continues to rain kisses along your face. He finally pulls back, thumbs rubbing your cheeks. His eyes are so soft and blue, looking into your soul.

"Doll, I don't care what you look like or how much you weigh, or any of that petty shit insecure guys care about. I'm one hundred and fucking six years old. You think I could find anyone else to deal with my crazy ass?"

His question causes you to giggle quietly, shaking your head. "No," he laughs. "No one else would put up with me. You're stuck with me, no matter what changes your body goes through. I'm here for you."

You gaze into his eyes, knowing he's being sincere and true. You lean in, pressing your lips against his in a soft, slow, passionate kiss. You pull away breathless after a while, hands playing with the curls of his hair on the base of his neck. Your lips are still so close that they touch as you speak.

"Thank you, Buck. It means a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me."

He kisses you again, pushing you against the bed. He begins to get frisky, groping your body as you kiss. Though you're quickly interrupted by Sam pounding on the door.

"Hey, lovebirds! We got shit to do, let's go!"

Bucky kisses your cheek, smiling. "C'mon doll. I'll show you later how much I love you."

Zemo-

Zemo placed plates in front of three of you. It smelled and looked delicious, but you couldn't bring yourself to eat more than a few bites. Sam and Bucky, however, dug into it eagerly. The Baron had been cooking for you all since he was out of prison, shocking you that he even knew how to cook. It made you think about how he probably spent nights in the kitchen with his wife and child, making dinner together with laughter and kisses.

Instead of eating, you sip on the cherry blossom tea Zemo made, listening to Sam and Bucky bicker. They were having another one of their stupid little spats, causing you roll your eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Zemo staring at you intently. You glance over at him, eyebrow raised. He raises his own in questioning, gaze flitting down to your barely touched plate. Your cheeks grow warm as you realize what he's hinting at.

"NO, Bucky, end of story!"

Sam storms off, Bucky hot on his heels to fix whatever just happened. They disappeared into a room, the door slamming behind them. You became acutely aware that it was just you and Helmut Zemo in the room. Alone.

You sip more of your tea, your throat tight. You weren't scared of the Baron, just apprehensive. He was still in a robe from earlier, his hair dripping water onto his shoulders.

"May I ask why you haven't eaten? I assure you, I haven't poisoned your food."

You startle, clearing your throat as you think over your answer. "It seems great, Zemo. I'm just not hungry."

"Bullshit."

His stern reply makes you turn your head to fully look at him. He's frowning, hands resting on the marble counter. His eyes bore into yours, almost venturing to your soul. "In the short time I have been with you, I have not seen you eat a full meal. You drink, yes, but I have yet to see you eat."

You grit your teeth, swallowing a sharp retort. "It's really none of your business, Zemo. I don't remember asking you to mother me."

His frown deepens. "My wife had an eating disorder when we were younger. Freshly twenty, she was struggling with the expectations of being a Baroness. So, she stopped eating. It took me a few years to discover what was going on, but together, I helped her. You deserve happiness and health."

Tears were building behind your eyelids, your breath caught in your throat. "I just . . . I don't like myself, right now. I'm still adjusting with the blip and the deaths of my friends. And I somehow put on weight. Avengers need to be thin and agile, not fat and out of breath."

Zemo steps around the counter to stand a few steps away from you. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I see an absolutely breathtaking person in front of me."

A shaky breath escapes your mouth at his words.

"Eat, Liebling. You need your strength."

As he strolls away, you stare at the plate before taking a bite. Just as you predicated, it was delicious.

Sharon-

"You look amazing," Sharon whispers, hands on your hips.

"Are you sure? I feel like I look huge."

"Honey, are you kidding? I want nothing more than to skip this stupid party and just stay in here with you. I mean, those new sheets do need broken in."

"Sharon!" you snort, pushing your girlfriend away.

She smirks at you, grabbing your hand. "Why do you think you look 'huge'?"

Your smile falls from your face, lip catching between your teeth. "I've just noticed my stomach looking bigger. And more stretch marks appearing everywhere. It's getting hard to feel sexy, honestly."

Sharon grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her. "Stretch marks are sexy as hell. And your stomach, babe, it's perfect. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

You try not to make a face of disbelief, but you can tell by the way Sharon's eyebrows pinch together, you didn't do a good job. She grabs your hips and begins steering you towards the couch. She pushes you roughly, making a gasp leave your lips as you flop down. She straddles your lap, running her fingers through your hair. She grabs a nice chunk of your hair, pulling your head back so you're staring at the ceiling. She starts sucking and kissing on your neck, laving over the stretched skin. She makes her way to your ear, pulling the lobe gently with her teeth.

"You're sexy as hell."

She presses her hips down against yours.

"I want to tell Bird Brain out there and his gang tough shit, they're going to have to find Nagel themselves, because I want to prove to you that you're beautiful."

She sucks a heavy mark onto your collarbone, your hands tightening on her hips. Suddenly, she pulls away. "Alas, I have business."

You stare up at her in disbelief, eyes wide. She grins, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before hopping up. She pulls you up by your hand, rubbing her thumb soothing along your skin.

"Can I show you off tonight?"

You smile, kissing her. "As if you have to ask."

"Great. Let's go find Nagel and get back soon."

"Deal."

#tfatws #tfatws imagine #sam wilson #bucky barnes #baron helmut zemo #sharon carter #reader insert

[maxwell-grant]

Having seen your thoughts on his deeply-unpleasant daddy, might I please ask if you have any thoughts on The Gladiator himself, Hugo Danner? (THE SUPERMAN WHO MIGHT HAVE BEEN, if you will).

What would you do if you were the strongest man in the world, the strongest thing in the world, mightier than the machine? He made himself guess answers for that rhetorical query. "I would—I would have won the war. But I did not. I would run the universe single-handed. Literally single-handed. I would scorn the universe and turn it to my own ends. I would be a criminal. I would rip open banks and gut them. I would kill and destroy. I would be a secret, invisible blight. I would set out to stamp crime off the earth; I would be a super-detective, following and summarily punishing every criminal until no one dared to commit a felony. What would I do? What will I do?"

The thing that strikes me about Gladiator is that it almost feels like the book is unfinished. The quality and pace of the book is all over the place, but you can boil it's general story down to "unlucky bastard is born Superman before it's time for Superman to exist, without the necessary support, mindset and structure to become Superman, in a world that neither supports nor accepts the existence Superman, and just as he's about to have the life-changing epiphany that could make him something, he gets struck by lightning and dies in the 2nd-to-last paragraph".

The whole book is like if in the first Spider-Man story Peter Parker just gave up after Uncle Ben died and we never saw him again. It's a superhero/supervillain origin story that gets cut short right as it's about to lead to the birth of the character proper. It's frustrating, yes, but to my scavenger goblin brain that likes to dig through pop culture's trash to find nice forgotten trinkets to polish and make into something new, it also invites a lot of promise, if we get into the question of what could have happened to Hugo Danner if he didn't die on the cusp of his origin story. It's an idea I plan to use for my own pulp writings.

It's not so much whether or not Hugo MIGHT have been Superman, so much as: COULD he be Superman? Maybe, maybe not. I'd argue not, because even with all his power, and even with his parents trying to raise him as best they could, even with Hugo genuinely trying his best to be good and heroic and turn his gifts to mankind, it wasn't gonna pan out. The right pieces weren't there, the family structure wasn't there, the necessary aspects of the origin story weren't there, and ultimately, Hugo Danner wasn't cut for it. He is a failure at everything he tries to be super at.

At college on the football field, he kills a man. As a soldier on the Great War, he slaughters thousands for years, but fails to end the war, despite having been able to do so from the moment he enlisted. He is fired from a steel mill for working too far beyond the abilities of his fellows, and then fired from a bank for freeing a man from a locked safe, because the bank president suspected that Danner planned to use his powers to rob the vault. He tries using his powers to enact social change and fails again and again. He can't even enjoy daily life, because he cannot compete fairly with ordinary people, and because of that he must constantly hold himself in check, never able to fully express himself. And when he's presented with the idea of creating a race of people like him to dominate the world and to “conquer and stamp out all these things to which men of intelligence object,” he finds it ultimately distasteful, because he knows better than to expect good things to come out of his life. And then he curses God and dies. The whole book is one long argument as to why Being Superman Sucks.

He's not the break from tradition that Superman represented, he's a sci-fi superman who met the same tragic ending his predecessors did. In that paragraph above, the very first thing he thinks about, after remarking over his failure to end the war, is thinking about becoming some galactic dictator murdering everyone who steps out of line, before he considers becoming a fascist super-detective. Kind of a damning perspective to present your hero, isn't it? If Gladiator was released today, exactly as is, people would be quick to assume it's an origin story for a Homelander/Plutonian/Omni-Man kind of character. Hugo Danner was a Superman deconstruction before that became a pop culture cliche.

My favorite sections of the book are those that describe Hugo in the war. By far the best-written and most evocative, almost bordering on horror story. And they may be the most damning sections of them all. He never forgives himself for not ending the war when he could, because he's spent all those years killing and toiling away when he was just about the one person who could conceivably leap all the way to Germany and force the war to end. I imagine a lot of pulp heroes who suffered in the war, or any war, and walked out of it with a resolve to protect and do good by others, would be pretty pissed when discovering that, all along, there was this living god among them who actually could have ended the war single-handedly, but was just too damn busy slaughtering his way through fields of people who couldn't possibly fight back, to think about it.

And for all that Hugo says that he hates war and murder and bloodshed, he sure seems like a total natural for it:

Hugo, out of his scarlet fury, had one glimpse of his antagonist's face and person. The glimpse was but a flash. He was a little man—a foot shorter than Hugo. His eyes looked out from under his helmet with a sort of pathetic earnestness. And he was worried, horribly worried, standing there with his rifle lifted and trying to remember the precise technique of what would follow even while he fought back the realization that it was hopeless.

In that split second Hugo felt a human, amazing urge to tell him that it was all right, and that he ought to hold his bayonet a little higher and come forward a bit faster. The image faded back to an enemy. Hugo acted mechanically from the rituals of drill. His own knife flashed. He saw the man's clothes part smoothly from his bowels, where the point had been inserted, up to the gray-green collar. The seam reddened, gushed blood, and a length of intestine slipped out of it.

Hugo stepped over him. He was trembling and nauseated. The bellow of battle returned to Hugo's ears. He pushed back the threatening rifle easily and caught the neck in one hand, crushing it to a wet, sticky handful. So he walked through the trench, a machine that killed quickly and remorselessly

Hugo was learning about war. He thought then that the task which he had set for himself was not altogether to his liking. There should be other and more important things for him to do. He did not like to slaughter individuals. The day passed like a cycle in hell. No change in the personnel except that made by an occasional death. No food. No water. They seemed to be exiled by their countrymen in a pool of fire and famine and destruction.

And then later, after they kill a friend of his

He leaped to the parapet, shaking his fists. "God damn you dirty sons of bitches. I'll make you pay for this. You got him, got him, you bastards! I'll shove your filthy hides down the devil's throat and through his guts". He did not feel the frantic tugging of his fellows. He ran into that bubbling, doom-ridden chaos, waving his arms and shouting maniacal profanities. A dozen times he was knocked down. He bled slowly where fragments had battered him. He crossed over and paused on the German parapet. He was like a being of steel. Barbed wire trailed behind him.

Bayonets rose. Hugo wrenched three knives from their wielders in one wild clutch. His hands went out, snatching and squeezing. That was all. No weapons, no defence. Just—hands. Whatever they caught they crushed flat, and heads fell into those dreadful fingers, sides, legs, arms, bellies. Bayonets slid from his tawny skin, taking his clothes. By and by, except for his shoes, he was naked. His fingers had made a hundred bunches of clotted pulp and then a thousand as he walked swiftly forward in that trench. Ahead of him was a file of green; behind, a clogged row of writhing men. Scarcely did the occupants of each new traverse see him before they were smitten. The wounds he inflicted were monstrous. On he walked, his voice now stilled, his breath sucking and whistling through his teeth, his hands flailing and pinching and spurting red with every contact. No more formidable engine of desolation had been seen by man, no more titanic fury, no swifter and surer death. For thirty minutes he raged through that line. The men thinned. He had crossed the attacking front.

A man dipped in scarlet, nude, dripping, panting. Slowly in that hiatus he wheeled. His lungs thundered to the French. "Come on, you black bastards. I've killed them all. Come on. We'll send them down to hell."

And years later, when he's thinking back to the misery that had been his life:

His deeds frightened men or made them jealous. When he conceived a fine thing, the masses, individually or collectively, transformed it into something cheap. His fort in the forest had been branded a hoax. His effort to send himself through college and to rescue Charlotte from an unpleasant life had ended in vulgar comedy. Even that had been her triumph, her hour, and an incongruous strain of greatness had filtered through her personality rather than his. Now his years in the war were reduced to no grandeur, to a mere outlet for his savage instinct to destroy. After such a life, he reflected, he could no longer visualize himself engaged in any search for a comprehension of real values.

If he could but have ended the war single-handed, it might have been different. But he was not great enough for that. He had been a thousand men, perhaps ten thousand, but he could not be millions. He could not wrap his arms around a continent and squeeze it into submission. There were too many people, and they were too stupid to do more than fear him and hate him. Sitting there, he realized that his naïve faith in himself and the universe had foundered. The war was only another war that future generations would find romantic to contemplate and dull to study. He was only a species of genius who had missed his mark by a cosmic margin.

Even when he's thinking about the places where he went wrong, that he blames himself for, even when's engaged in introspection, his thoughts still gravitate towards violence and hatred, of squeezing continents into submission and of how much the masses are stupid to not appreciate him (because really, all Hugo wants is to be loved and appreciated for what he is), and how unlucky he was to miss his mark.

There's just no place for Hugo Danner. Maybe it was actually rather merciful that he got to have his misery ended briefly by lightning strikes, before he could either turn into something worse, or have his life ruined more throughly.

#replies tag #pulp heroes #gladiator #hugo danner #superman

[mothwingwritings]

Treasured Friend

F!Reader X (Yandere) Joseph and mentioned F!readerX Caeser

Warnings: Yandere, drugging, cheating, noncon heavy petting, Joseph being a horny jerk

This is my very self-indulgent first shot as a yandere X reader fic (because I am a horrible goblin who loves me some yanderes) which I am a bit nervous about finally posting!!!! AHHHH! I feel like I made Joseph a little OOC, so I apologize for that. I also jumped back and forth from Joseph’s POV to readers so sorry if it gets a bit confusing. ^^;; And why did I have to do this to my girl Suzie Q? Hasn’t she been through enough??? Smh.  Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!!! Thank you!!!

'I shouldn't be here.'

His brain nagged him as he stood before your door, fist posed inches from the wood, primed for knocking. He stood still, frozen in... What, fear? Confusion? This wasn't like Joseph Joestar at all. He was, after all, the proud, boisterous man who's fought off countless foes, succeeded in being a skilled Hamon user, and ultimately defeated a perfect being that threatened the entire world.

So with all that bravado why the hell was he held up in front of a door?

Were these just nerves trying to block him from seeing a cherished old friend? Ridiculous, there was absolutely no reason at all for this horrible feeling of guilt to be weighing so heavily on his chest. Because that's all you were to him, right? Just his dear old friend?

He snorted at his own cruel joke

He heard you moving inside, as well as sounds of what appeared to be metal clanking together and water running. Perhaps you were cooking dinner? It was around that time of day.

'Maybe I should come back later,' He mused to himself, 'if she's busy with something I probably shouldn't bother her. Besides, I’d rather have her full attention than half of it when we are catching up, right?'

He lowered his hand for a moment at this thought, before quickly shaking his head, an urge of conviction flowing through his body.

'No,' he thought, finally connecting his fist to the door sharply, 'I came all this way. I need to see her now.'

"Coming," He heard muffled through the door. It was hard to make out, but it was undeniably your voice. Joseph couldn't contain the smile that that voice brought him.

After several moments, the door lurched open with a whiny screech. He's sure you spoke something, probably along the lines of 'who is it?' But with his heart beating so fast, the only sound he could manage to focus on was the loud thump echoing in his ears. He felt his breath catch as the door flew all the way open, his gaze falling upon the girl he hadn't seen in years, but hadn't left his mind for even a second in that time.

Your eyes widened a bit from the initial shock, followed by your signature smile that could light up the whole room, instantly igniting a fire in his heart. God, how he missed that smile, how he loved that smile.

"Joseph?" you laughed. An airy, joyful noise, "Joseph Joestar, is that really you?"

Her good mood was contagious, and Joseph's smile spread even wider. He was elated at how you responded to his presence.

'So she is happy to see me. She missed me, possibly even as much as I missed her.'

His heart thumped louder.

"(Name)," the towering man beamed, throwing his arms open dramatically as he shot you a playful grin, "Of course, the one and only! Now, the next thing you are going to say is 'come here so I can give you a hug!'"

Your laugh grew as you tried in vain to hide it behind your small hand. Joseph didn't like that habit of yours; he thrived on seeing you happy and loved it even more when he was the one to bring you that joy.

"I wasn't going to say it I was just going to do it," you teased, "But I guess I can indulge you just this once... Come here so I can give you a hug!"

And with those words, you passed by the door, making your way to Joseph. When you were directly in front of him, you softly launched off the ground, expecting him to meet you half way. He reciprocated, pulling you in to him, your feet dangling several inches from the ground. Just like how it used to be when the two of you were still living in Lisa Lisa's mansion. Also just like old times, he was more than happy to oblige, eagerly scooping you up as he pressed his face firmly into the crook of your neck.

Joseph mused over how good you felt pressed against him. Warm and soft, your hugs were always so inviting and enveloping, even with how much smaller than him you were. As your arms wrapped more snugly around his neck, he buried his face deeper into your neck and started to get lost in you. He breathed deeply, getting a whiff of the perfume you always used to wear. He was glad you still wore it. It always was one of his favorites. He squeezed you tightly, relishing the feeling of your affections. It was unfair how your body fit so perfectly against his.

"God how long has it been," your voice was soft, emotive, and so close. A shiver shot down his spine, "6 years? 7?"

"Too long," he responded immediately, his strong arms constricting you just a bit tighter, "I missed you, (name)."

Another playful laugh, "I missed you too, Jojo," you began to break contact, giving his arm a soft slap on your way down, "and I can't even imagine what owes me this surprise visit, but I am excited to find out."

You swung your door open, scooting out of the way a bit as you lifted your arm in a sweeping motion, "Please, come in! You came just in time, dinner is almost ready!"

~

It was shocking, to say the least.

The last time you had seen the man before you seemed like a lifetime ago. As soon as your eyes fell upon him, the memories flooded violently into your brain, the bittersweet nostalgia sweeping you away...

Two of your best friends had recently been wed and there was nothing but love in your heart for the both of them. Suzie Q, your best friend since you were small, had finally found her other half. You had joked with her a lot when you were younger that she was too easily wooed by a pretty face and too quick to give her heart away to men that were unworthy of her. She would laugh at you in response, shoot you a wink, and make some comment about having a lot of love to give so she'll eventually find the right guy, even if she does have to kiss a few frogs along the way.

That didn’t stop your worry for her, though. You always let her do her own thing and gave her space, but you were certainly not shy about letting her know you were not fond of most of the men she dated. On average they were arrogant, cocky, and loud womanizers who were also (unfortunately) extremely handsome.

So when you met Joseph Joestar, your protective nature instantly kicked in.

Both you and Suzie had been employed by Lisa Lisa, though in your case, maybe "saved" was a more appropriate term. You had come from a broken home and had a difficult upbringing, and you had spent many nights running to Suzie's house to get escape from your situation. When you grew a bit older and Suzie had been working for a while with Lisa Lisa, she was quick to recommend you as well. You were deeply intimidated and worried she may take one look at your past and skill set and cast you aside, but Suzie had talked you up so much that Lisa Lisa essentially hired you on the spot. You spent the next several years working your ass off to prove yourself to be all your friend had talked you up to be, and in the process gained a rather charmed existence surrounded by people you loved. You had a nice, safe home you shared with your treasured friend. The employer and teacher you greatly respected had taught you how to be strong, self-sufficient, and overcome any challenge life might through your way. In the hustle and bustle of it all, you had even met a charming man (one of Lisa Lisa’s pupils) that you had begun to develop feelings for...

And then Joseph showed up.

With the introduction of this cocky and loud brit, everything changed. From the get go, his frisky and flirty nature irked you. Throughout your years you had grown to a woman who respected manners and you took pride in the fact that not much in life could truly irritate you. As if honing in on this, you became a favorite target of Joseph’s endless teasing.

As much as you tried, he quickly had become unavoidable (Lisa Lisa had assigned you to watch over him, after all). You would cringe at the way he would ogle you, your teacher, and your best friend. He was a show off, always trying to one up Caesar (the man who had become the focus of your affections) to impress you, something you imagined Joseph had hoped would gain your approval. Needless to say, it did not work. Nearly everything the man did seem to grate deeply on your nerves, from the 'cute' nicknames he would make up for you, to the way he treated your blossoming skills dismissively, to how he'd casually find SOME way to touch you at every encounter. In the span on of a few days you had nearly reached your limit. You would purposely find something, ANYTHING, to do around the mansion to avoid him. But even then, you knew eventually you'd hear his booming voice break your small window of peace as it had become a habit of his to hunt you down each day after his daily trainings.

"Hey, (Name), there you are!!! You are looking a little bored, what say you come with me and we liven up the day a bit, eh?"

"(Name)! My favorite girl! Looks like you could use a break, and I know just the person you should take it with~"

"(Nick name) you were with Caesar AGAIN!? Come on, wouldn't you rather spend your time with someone who reeally~ knows how to treat a lady?"

It was all so obnoxious, but your blood didn't begin to truly boil until you had found him one day with Suzie Q.

You had warned her, or at least tried, of all he had put you through. The flirting, the disregard of your personal space, the shots fired at Caesar. At first she seemed to be listening, giving him the cold shoulder and dishing back whatever he handed to her, rolling her eyes jokingly at you whenever mention of him was made.

But as the weeks wore on her unamused glare changed to a fond twinkle. Her indignant frown when he would cast his attentions her way morphing into a coquettish smile. Much to your dismay, you knew you were rapidly watching your best friend fall in love.

"Caesar we can't let this happen," you grumbled one day to your lover, your head resting snugly in the crook of his neck as you curled against him during a break in his training.

"Let what happen, Bambina?" Caesar responded to your sudden remark, his fingers lazily weaving through your (color) tresses.

"Suzie and Joseph," you sighed heavily, "I've seen the way that she has been looking at him recently, and I know that look all too well. I have to get her away from him somehow..."

The blonde Italian hummed, "Hmm, a look huh? And just what look has our dear Suzie been giving Jojo?"

"It's the look she gives men before they break her heart."'

Caesar laughed, a pleasant rumble jolting your body. You pulled yourself up, steadying your arm across Caesar's broad chest so you could look directly into his eyes.

"What's so funny," you pouted, trying not to be swayed by the beautiful shimmer of his sea green eyes, “I’m serious! Joseph is bad news for her! I don't want my best friend to be used up by some pretty playboy and then tossed aside once he's done with her."

"I apologize, I didn’t mean to laugh. But carina did you and I not start similarly? Did people not also warn you to stay away from the great womanizer Zeppeli, a man who would always be nothing more than someone who would break beautiful girl’s hearts?"

You averted your gaze slightly, a light blush rising to your cheeks, "This is different! You understood my boundaries and never once acted high and mighty around me. I definitely had my reservations with you but," the blush on your cheeks grew a bit darker before you continued, “In the end you proved yourself to be a safe and worthy person to give my heart to."

A doting smile overtook Caesar's face as he leaned up, planting a firm kiss on top of your head.

"And I am forever grateful you took that gamble with me carina, as you have become the most treasured part of my life. Since you have come into my life, I have been a better, stronger man. But...."

"…But?"

Caesar sighed, gently shaking his head, "But you have to understand bambina that Joseph and I are different people with different personalities and different backgrounds," Caesar gently took your chin in his fingers, turning your gaze back his way, "I definitely don't approve of the hounding he gives Master, Suzie, and especially YOU, but Jojo is not a bad person. There's more going on inside him than you realize, and as I have been training by his side daily I can't help but admire how far he's come in this short span of time. He may come off as clownish, but after you've been through some things with him you see just how strong his ambition is. He’s a man fueled by a strong drive and tender heart. Carina mia, if Suzie Q is the woman he has chosen to bestow his true affections upon, I dare say that woman will live a very passionate life and never be left wanting."

As Caesar spoke, your eyes softened. You mulled over his words in your head, considering the possibility that maybe they would make a good pair. Perhaps Joseph wasn't just an annoying brute, maybe that was all a screen he hid his true feelings and intentions behind. Though it didn't entirely excuse him of all the things he had done, hearing Caesar explain it certainly did give you a new perspective on the man.

You sighed dejectedly, "OK, maybe you are right. He may get on my last nerve, but at the same time I haven't really given him much of a chance to get to know me, and I him. Maybe... Maybe he would be a good match for Suzie? Besides, we are both adults now, even if I still have qualms over him I need to have faith that my best friend is doing what's right for her."

Caesar playfully winked at you, "Exactly. Suzie is a big girl, and Joseph a big boy. If they desire to be together, I hope you can come to a point where you give them your blessing," Caesar sighed deeply, slowly running his hand through his hair, "Besides, with his attentions focused on Suzie that means he will leave you alone now."

"Oh, I see. Ulterior motives," You teased, flippantly waving your hand.

He smirked, "Is it so wrong for a man to want his woman to himself? Cuore mio, don't break my heart by telling me you actually secretly enjoy Jojo's affections?"

You snickered, giving the blonde a playful smack, "Please, you know I only fall for incredibly dashing Italian men. But I must say, I am surprised with all the trash-talking he gives you that you are standing up for him and speaking so highly of him right now."

Caesar shrugged, his eyes falling closed as he pulled you snugly back down against him, "What can I say? I guess he's growing on me."

Over time, he would grow on you as well.

After all you had gone through, it was impossible not to. Not long after that conversation, your life was wrought with tragedy and terror. The insurmountable threat of the pillar men coupled with the incredible loss of losing Caesar nearly destroyed you. You felt helpless and terrified, every good thing in life you had worked so hard to achieve being ripped from you in the blink of an eye.

You ached for your lost love, and agonized over the fate of your friends. What could you do? What would become of the world if you weren't victorious right here, right now? It was too much weight to bear.

And yet Joseph took it head on, becoming your rock when everything else in the world seemed so unsteady. With his signature smirk and twinkling green eyes he held you in his strong grasp before the final encounter. You’ll never forget the feel of one of his hands gently jostling your hair as he told you it would all be OK, that he would protect you and come out victorious.

And even with all the odds against him, his enemy quite literally transforming into the perfect being with no weaknesses, he came out the winner. At that time, you could neither laugh nor cry. You just stared on in awe and relief when you saw Joseph triumphant and alive, on a day that was supposed to be his funeral, no less. Your body went numb, collapsing on itself with the gravity of all that you had been through. Jojo didn't just save you and your friends, he saved the entire world.

It was hard not to give Suzie your blessing after that.

But that was all around 7 years ago, and in that time span you had unfortunately grown apart from the Joestar family. In the beginning of their marriage you and Suzie talked all the time. Visits to and from where both of you ended up settling were common. You always felt welcomed and loved in their home, and you counted it a blessing that you were able to stay so close to the ones you treasured, even with how hectic adult life had become.

However, the months kept passing, and in time, Suzie called less frequently. At first she would brush off your concern, saying she was just tired, or things were busy, her schedule had become so hectic. You would give her space in these moments, but couldn't help but feel a gnawing discomfort when the she went from being a bit unresponsive, to just out right avoiding your calls all together.

Sometimes when you would call you would get Jojo, and hearing his peppy voice sound so genuinely excited to hear from you instantly took a load off your shoulders. He would always reiterate the things Suzie told you to help put your heart at ease. She wasn’t lying or avoiding you, she truly was just held up with something.

That is until Jojo stopped answering the calls as well.

It wouldn’t be until a year later when you got a curt letter in the mail that changed everything. In Suzie’s handwriting, it asked you to please cease all communication with her and Joseph, explaining they were to be moving and starting completely anew in a faraway town and that they wished you not to be a part of that new life.

You felt hollow. You reached out through letter, phone, even trying to get Lisa Lisa to relay messages from you, but no efforts bore any fruit. Your emotions went from confused and heart broken, to bitter and upset. What had you done? Was it something you said or did? Why were they treating you like this, without even explaining themselves? You drove yourself to the point of madness scouring every inch of your brain for something that would want to make them abandon you, but in the end, could think of nothing.

For your own sanity, you tried your best to forget them and move on. Unfortunately for you, you were a horribly sentimental person, and dropping them the same way they had dropped you was something you could not do.

But more years passed, and as they say, time heals all wounds. Losing your friends got less painful and you were able to forge new relationships and start new endeavors. You had made a comfortable life for yourself in that time, even with Suzie and Joseph hanging on in the back of your thoughts, like phantoms you couldn’t exorcise.

So to see a phantom before you in the flesh, sitting merrily at your two person table with that all too familiar mischievous grin spread wide across his handsome face, his spirited eyes peering into your very soul. It was jarring, but you couldn’t help but be overcome with joy.

“Smells delicious,” Jojo exaggeratedly sighed, a look of bliss passing over his face, “I’ve been on the road so long, and it’s been forever since I’ve had a beautiful woman’s home cooked meal.”

You giggled, hand wrapped snugly around your mug of cooled tea as you brought it to your lips, “Well I’m not master chef, but I hope it lives up to your expectations.”

“Please, your cooking was always superior to nearly everyone in the mansion, I am sure it has only gotten better with time (name),”

Small talk carried on for several minutes, before a dense silence hung over the two of you. Your eyes darted to him, taking him in as his gaze swept over the content of your dining room, taking in all of the new and the old. You inhaled deeply.

“Joseph.”

The serious tone of your voice garnered the man’s attention, his bright eyes focusing fully back on you.

You looked held his gaze, the confusion and pain from the past emanating from your unwavering stare.

“Why are you here?”

~

“Because I missed you, (Name),” The words passed his lips before he could stop them, but the small blush that lit your cheeks more than made up for his brief loss of control over his feelings.

Honestly, he could think of no other way to respond when you were looking at him like that.

He watched intently as you shook your head a bit and closed your eyes, a quivering smile on your lips. He could tell you were fighting valiantly to suppress long held back emotions that may spill out at any second. He was in the same boat, just a little better at it than you were.

“I missed you too,” he noted the slight shake in your voice, “but Joseph… What happened? You and Suzie just left, and I…”

Your voice trailed off, another strong wave of emotions washing over your features. It was something he noticed about you after Caesar had passed, that you were no less stunning in heart break. Joseph stared at you, mesmerized. He hated seeing you in pain, but he couldn’t help the allure of seeing those tears dance just at the edge of your eyes. You were crying for him… crying because you missed him. His heart rate began to quicken. This surely wasn’t the first time tears had been spilled on his behalf. Had he being gone kept you up at night? Did you dream of him and his return?

“How is Suzie?”

The question ripped him forcibly from his previous thoughts. It was asked so earnestly, with such barely concealed desperation, it felt wrong to lie in response. Nerves began to take over, his hands sweating as he absent mindedly fidgeted with the mug in front of him. How could he possibly answer this? Should he really tell you the truth? Could he honestly tell you the reason Suzie began to distance herself from you was because of him? Should he confess and say he couldn’t get you out of his mind, even with his new wife at his side, and after sometime his wife caught on? Should he explain to you that Suzie had always been a replacement in his heart for you, a replacement he thought he could grow to love as fervently as he loved you, but never quite stuck? Should he confess that it was always you he thought of in the place of Suzie when he kissed, hugged, or even spoke with her? Should he tell you that while he made love to your dearest friend, it was you he was imagining beneath him? Should he divulge that on more than one occasion, it was your name he would scream while he came?

Joseph had single handedly ruined the lifelong friendship you had with Suzie. She had done everything she could to make him hers, giving him the entirety of her love. But in the end she realized she could never win over what he felt for you. This caused Suzie’s resentment and animosity towards you to grow, but she also knew in her heart these feelings were misplaced and unfair. So instead of lashing out on her closest friend and airing all the couple’s dirty laundry, she tried to distance herself and her husband from you. Her thought process being that if you were not around in any capacity to distract him, his fondness for you would lessen. In reality, the opposite had occurred.

When Suzie had found he had still been taking your calls without her knowledge, it drove her to the edge. Even after all he had done, all he continued to do, Suzie still loved Joseph, and adamantly believed she could make their marriage work. So she demanded they move, cutting ties with you completely so they could focus on being a family again.

He agreed, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because he truly felt bad for the woman he conned into marrying him when his heart clearly belonged to you. Maybe he did it because somewhere inside of himself he truly believed he could learn to love Suzie the way he loved you. Maybe it was because even though Caesar had long been gone, he felt dirty for longing for the woman whose heart and soul belonged to his best friend. Regardless, he agreed, and they left you behind with nothing more than a short letter that he knew would lead you to anguish.

“Joseph you are scaring me, how is Suzie?”

Joseph was snapped back to reality by your concerned voice. He chuckled nervously, forcing a smile on his face before he spoke.

“Suzie is OK,” he began softly, considering his words, “We… We had some issues earlier on in our marriage.”

“…Issues,” you questioned, “What kind of issues?”

Joseph averted his gaze, his grip tightening on the mug. This lie had to be convincing. It was too soon to share his true intentions now.

“Mostly things brought on by the stress of being a young couple out on our own,” he began slowly, trying to keeps his nerves in check, “Well, that and the whole battle with the Pillar Men and its after math. It was a lot to take in. It was a mess that she didn’t want to burden you with, especially when she knew you were still reeling from Caesar and in the process of starting your own life.”

He was happy his lie seemed to relieve you a bit, but a deep frown was still engraved on your lips.

“As our marriage went on, those issues became bigger issues,” he continued, his own frown deepening, “I think we both had a lot of expectations and feelings about what we thought was going to happen once we became husband and wife, and we didn’t necessarily share those expectations or feelings with each other. We were young, on our own for the first time, still figuring ourselves out. Things were bound to get messy at points… It just ended up getting messier than we bargained for,” he sighed, his eyes returning to yours, holding within them an ounce of misery, “Suzie is fine, (name). She’s still her healthy, lively self. She just didn’t want to drag you down in our ongoing bullshit.” He finished with a melancholy grin.

Another silence settled in the air as you collected yourself, taking a deep inhale before speaking.

"Suzie is healthy… That's so good to hear," your voice trembled, "I was so worried all these years," you shook your head, focusing back to Joseph, "But I can't believe it... Things seemed to be going so well, I had no idea you two were going through it- ARE going through it. I feel dumb realizing it now. We did go through so much in such a short amount of time. The wedding was such a whirlwind, it makes sense…"

Joseph watched as your hand clenched at what he was sure was a steadily blooming ache in your chest. What was going through your mind at this moment? How were you processing the lies that fell from his lips? He was sure you were beating yourself up right now, your brain chastising you for not realizing the marital and life issues your dear friends were going through sooner. His eyes widened as he noticed your whole body softly quivering, tears beginning to fall slowly down your rosy cheeks. You looked so small, so hurt. He was a piece of shit for being the cause of this, but he also couldn’t deny the twisted feeling of excitement seeing you this way caused.

As far as he was concerned, those tear filled eyes were proof of your strong feelings for him.

"(Name)..." He whispered, enchanted as you fought back waves of emotion. It took all of his will power to not give in, to not push the table over and take you again in his arms. While you would melt into him he’d kiss away those anguished tears, promising to you the only time you’d ever cry again would be when he’d make you feel his love so fully, so strongly, that your over stimulated body wouldn’t be able to handle it anymore.

"Joseph," Your cracking voice struggled to say, drawing the man from his rampant fantasy.

“I never want you or Suzie to feel that way ever again. I know you were trying to protect me, but I never want you to ever feel like you have to hide anything from me ever again.”

Your conviction grew as you continued, “You two keeping things from me, going away and cutting all contact, that hurts me much more than any issues you have been fighting through ever could. I am never too hurt, busy, or tried to be there for either of you. I love you both so much, you are my family… So please, please don’t worry for me when you are going through so much on your own.”

You smiled warmly at him, blinking the tears from your eyes.

His heart was about to burst.

~

"(Name)... For now... Can we just forget about Suzie?"

The question that followed the next brief gap in conversation threw you for a total loop. Your conversation to this point had been going amicably, even if you were focusing your questions on your MIA friend and getting rather emotional.

"... Forget about Suzie? Joseph, what do you-"

"I don't want to talk about her right now." He cut you off roughly, a bite in his voice that alarmed you.

He took note of the dismayed look on your face his comment caused, and his expression instantly became lighter.

"I'm sorry. It's just a bit painful to talk about her right now,” he spoke, an uncharacteristic nervous tinge to his voice.

“The whole reason I am here now is because we are going through it again and I happened to be traveling in the area I knew you used to live. I took a gamble hoping it would still be you residing in this little house,” he flourished his hand, small smirk ghosting his lips as he took in the scenery once more, “and I’m glad it was.”

A moment of silence hung heavily in the air before he continued, his voice lower than before, “I really needed to talk to you, (Name). I needed to hear your voice. No one else…”

His voice drifted off a bit, his eyes softening as he seemed to get lost in his thoughts. Before you could comment, he snapped out of it, continuing on in a voice that was pleasant, but forced “What am I doing talking about this stuff? I came to share a few laughs and have a good time, not bog you down with my issues! It’s been such a long time since I have seen you (name), I am sure so much has happened in your life. I want to hear it all!"

While he spoke you noticed the quick change in posture from lax and inviting to rigid. His fingers tapping the wood of your table erratically, the set of his jaw had become stern. Everything about him was suddenly on edge. Your heart sank witnessing him like this, even now trying to hide things from you in order to not weigh down the joy of your meeting after so long.

However, you had already decided something. Joseph had come all this way to find some refuge with you, and that’s just what you were going to offer.

"Joseph," your voice dropped low, your hands sliding across the table to catch his own in a gentle hold. You felt his body jolt a bit, surprised by the sudden contact. You squeezed slightly, hoping to get across your feelings of reassurance. You smiled tenderly up at him, and after a moment, his hands shakily returned your hold.

“I’m so sorry… How could I have not noticed that you were in a rough patch? Suzie has been my rock through every trial life has ever thrown my way, and you have become equally as important,” you sighed in frustration, “You both can read me like a book yet I couldn't even tell how much you have been struggling. All of your laughs and smiles, they were masking your true pain, and through it all you both still put me first, not wanting to burden me with anything that was happening because you knew all I had gone through in my own life.”

Tears stung your eyes once more with the realization, “Joseph please, I don’t want you to struggle alone. I want to be your rock, too.”

You heard the man release a breathy sigh, the rough pad of his thumb gingerly starting to caress your firmly gripped hand.

"God, have your hands always been this soft?”

“W-what,” The out of place question took you by surprise, a tiny yelp of shock escaping your lips as Joseph repositioned himself, leaning his torso heavily over the table, threatening your personal space.

His grip on your hands tightened, lifting the digits slowly up to his mouth. A lucid smile graced his plush lips as they ghosted the tips of your fingers. His warm breath on your hand would be almost soothing if not for the obsessive gleam he held in his eyes as they bore into you. A shudder ran through your body, which had become stiff with discomfort. This small gesture between good friends quickly morphed into something much more intimate, the way he was looking at you feeling oddly menacing.

“Your hands,” he laughed a bit, his voice nostalgic, “I remember even during the most rigorous of the training that we were put through, your hands were strong, but also always so gentle,” his lips pressed harder into your flesh, his eyes narrowing as he continued to speak, “but I forgot just how soft they were… How good they feel when you touch me-“

As if breaking a horrible spell, the timer on your stove began to blare, causing you both to jump. You took the opportunity to quickly pull away, pushing yourself up and away from the table and Joseph as you hurried to address the now finished meal.

“Give me just a moment and I’ll have dinner out,” you tried to speak as calmly as you could, clenching your own hands together as your brain scrambled to make sense of what had just occurred, “wait right there.”

~

Perhaps the move was too soon, but he could think of no other way to respond to you suddenly grabbing him like that, being so earnest and vulnerable with your feelings. Sitting across from you as he indulged in the dinner you had prepared, it would have been easy to get lost in the domestic feel of it all. However he could tell you were growing increasingly uncomfortable despite his best efforts to bring everything back to normal, and he mentally scolded himself for that. Your once welcoming gestures had now become guarded, suspicious. Your bright eyes now looked at him with confusion, even a bit of distrust. He was doing his best to make the conversation jovial again. He was complimenting your cooking, bringing up past humorous exploits, asking you about your new job, your new life, everything and anything he could get about what you had been doing, who you were now.

Yet you kept succeeding in bringing the conversation back to Suzie.

At first it filled him with guilt, hearing his wife’s name fall from your lips with so much concern, now more amplified by his slip up. But the guilt was quickly becoming aggravation as even his best attempts to redirect the conversation kept sneakily coming back to Suzie.

As the tense dinner was winding down, he could tell you were trying to hurry things along. Your eyes darted to the clock more often, and you kept mentioning how late it was becoming, how you had something you had to wake up early for( regardless of it being the weekend). It wasn’t until you began to collect the plates that Joseph began to slightly panic. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go… You both were supposed to be so lost in catching up with each other that time seemed to no longer exist; enjoying each other’s company so thoroughly you’d keep the conversation going into the wee hours of the morning.

Joseph sighed a bit after you turned down his offer to help.

‘I was hoping to avoid having to do this,’ Joseph scowled, slipping the small vial from his pocket, ‘but I guess I have no choice.’

After the situation involving the Pillar Men nearly poisoning him to death, the Speedwagon Foundation really stepped up their game in the drug department. An entire new branch was created as a security measure to protect against threats of that nature, and as such, a lot of experimentation and creation was going on in their labs. Joseph couldn’t help but be intrigued when Robert had offhandedly mentioned one day they had successfully created a new kind of drug, one that was nearly impossible to detect or trace, but knocked someone out quickly for several hours. Robert had been initially confused by Joseph’s questions regarding the drug, as he usually didn’t take much interest in the more science-y aspects of their organization at all, but eventually gave him a small sample of the drug, warning him to not let it fall into the wrong hands.

Watching himself quickly pour a bit into your half-finished wine glass, he mused if his own hands could possibly be considered the wrong ones.

You came back in the room shortly after the deed was done, taking your seat across from him tentatively.

“I know you mentioned it, but I suppose it is getting quite late, huh?” Joseph questioned, doing his best to hide the frown that formed when he saw how relieved that comment seemed to make you.

“Yeah,” you responded, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger absentmindedly, “I hate to rush us after it’s been so long.”

Joseph smiled warmly, batting his hand playfully, “No need to apologize, I did just barge in here unannounced after all. I was lucky you treated an uninvited guest to a meal and a drink.”

You exhaled, your voice coming out softly “You are hardly an ‘uninvited guest’, but next time… I would really love to see Suzie as well. I know you told me not to bring her up and you seem to be avoiding talking about her altogether… But I really miss my best friend.”

You looked away as if you were ashamed to mention her around him. It was another stab to his heart.

“Hey (name),” he began, continuing once your eyes had locked back on his, “I want to apologize. For dumping this all on you, and for earlier when I was holding your hands. My mind has been such a mess, and I realize running to you to escape wasn’t the most mature or well thought out plan.”

He watched your body begin to grow more lax, causing relief to wash over him.

“It’s just you have always had a way of making me feel better (feel whole, he wanted to add, but thought better of it), and I knew this time wouldn’t be any different. It was selfish.”

Before he could say more, you chimed in with a small laugh, taking him off guard. Glancing your way, his eyes widened as he drank you in. You were smiling again, a true smile. Relaxed and happy, your eyes crinkled as they held his. Seeing you this way again felt as if all his troubles had been lifted away. You were infectious, alluring, hypnotizing.

Intoxicating.

“I’m sorry,” you spoke in between small laughs, “It’s just… the Joseph Joestar from years ago would never own up to being selfish, nor would he so sincerely apologize without throwing in some kind of quip,”

Joseph’s heart began to race as he watched you recline, check resting on one hand, the other now bringing the wine glass to your lips, lips that were still so tauntingly smiling at him.

“It’s nice to hear, and you are forgiven. I apologize as well if I seemed a bit put off. It just took me off guard,” you took a sip, Joseph’s breath hitched, “I guess I should have just chocked it up to your old ways, but don’t think I won’t tell Suzie about it someday, you flirt.”

You winked at him playfully, but he was so lost in bliss, it didn’t even register.

~

“Jojo, are you OK,” you questioned your now suspiciously quiet friend as you took another swig of wine, this one nearly emptying the glass, “I didn’t offend you, did I? I was just joking around.”

You pouted at him. His face had once again gone hard, his intense eyes not once straying from your face.

You chuckle lightly; trying to conceal the nerves his looks gave you, “Jojo please, you are kind of freaking me out again…”

His lips curled into a smile, his eyes keeping their strict hold on you, “It’s alright (name), no offense taken. In fact, I feel very good right now… how about you?”

As if on cue, a sharp pain pulsed through your brain. You winced, your hand flying up to grab at your pounding head. A moan escaped your lips as your eyes snapped shut, everything in the world was suddenly too bright and too loud.

“(Name)?”

“S-sorry,” you stuttered, the pain growing by the moment, “I just suddenly got hit with a horrible headache. Maybe I drank too much wine,” your voice trailed off as you noticed your vision beginning to blur.

Joseph laughed merrily, his seeming lack of care for your condition adding confusion to the already puzzling scenario.

“You barely had any! Such a lightweight,” He pushed himself away from the table, towering over you as his sharp eyes continuously bore down upon your form. Were you imagining that devious gleam they were holding?

“You need to be more careful, (name). People could take advantage of you this way.”

Your eyes widened, blood running cold. Something was off, terribly off. You weren’t just imagining things. The look he held in his eyes and the way he began to stalk slowly closer to you, like a predator approaching its prey, was all horribly wrong. Your breath hitched as he reached your side, his aura overwhelming you entirely in your sickly state. You felt his fingertips ghost the skin of your shoulder, traveling slowly up your neck to gently tuck a rouge stand of hair behind your ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. His touch was so delicate, but his eyes… His eyes had now completely glazed over, his breathing becoming heavier as he glared down at you in crazed admiration.

“(Name),” his breathy voice quivered, “Let me take care of you.”

The full extent of the danger you were in crashed down upon you. You pushed off the table, trying to put as much distance between him and yourself as you possibly could. You sprang to your feet, the sudden movement causing another rush of debilitating pain to pulse through your brain. Your vision had become so hazy that you could barely make out the man in front of you, and the tears that were pooling in your eyes weren’t helping any. You backed away slowly, your legs straining as you felt your body become impossibly heavy. At this point the only thing keeping you alert and upright was the threat that loomed before you.

“You need to leave Joseph,” You commanded, hoping your voice sounded much braver than you felt, “Right now.”

“Leave, with you barely able to stand on your feet? What kind of man would I be if I left you like this right now?” Though you had a hard time seeing his expression, you could definitely hear anticipation dripping from his voice, the implications causing you to shudder.

You grimaced, a cold sweat starting to coat your skin, “Get out of my house Joseph or I’ll-“

Before you could say another word, his lips crashed hard into your own, causing a short circuit in your brain. You let out a small gasp, granting him further access as he began feverishly conquering your mouth with his own. You tried to twist away, but that only caused him to pull you taut against him, locking you in place. His large hands snaked down your back, cupping and groping your curves as he traveled lower and lower.

His lips eventually released your own, instantly shifting focus to the exposed skin of your neck. As he sucked and nibbled, marking you in ways he had no right to, your resistance was growing less and less. In a short time, you couldn’t hold yourself up at all any longer, relying solely on Joseph’s constricting grip to keep you vertical. A whimper escaped your lips as he latched onto your neck particularly hard, his hands at the same time gripping your ass with a possessive squeeze.

“I can make you feel so good, (Name),” he whispered in your ear gruffly, lust dripping from his words, “You deserve the love I can give you.

“Joseph,” you choked, tears streaming steadily down your cheeks as the last of your consciousness was fading away, “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you belong with me baby, you always have.”

Those were the last words you heard as your body succumbed to the darkness.

#yandere x reader #yandere jjba #yandere joseph joestar #reader insert #jjba reader insert #reader x joseph joestar #reader x caeser zeppeli #yandere behavior #yandere jojos bizarre adventure #yandere jojo x reader #i am so nervous loooool #yandere imagine #I am trying to get better at one shot fics #so this is good practice #enjoy!!! #battle tendency #battle tendies