#//his own people who he tried so hard to save only to watch them all push him away and despise him and wind up dead bc of it

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 4 (gravity falls g/t)

back with a new chapter!! parts 1 • 2 • 3

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The fist came down at an alarming speed, like it had materialized out of thin air. Jay was thrown backwards, and her head instantly smacked against the table, causing stars to pop in and out of her vision. The only thing she could hear was a faint, dull static, like her brain was a television that wasn’t getting a signal. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it would break through her chest. She didn’t have the strength to push herself to her feet. All of her limbs felt like they were paralyzed.

“Shit!” Stan yelled. Oh, he instantly regretted it. He didn’t even realize what was happening until his fist had already connected with the table. His subconscious must have saved him from actually touching her, but he got pretty damn close. He blinked, blinked again, and fully realized he almost just killed somebody. 

Again.

“Oh, god, kid, are you alright?” He bent down, putting himself at eye level with the writhing tiny. “Kid? I’m sorry, I didn’t — I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt you, I just — got carried away, that’s all!” She wasn’t responding, so he began to reach his hand out toward her, ready to nudge her back to reality. 

“DON’T!” she screamed, louder than anything he’d ever heard before. She managed to scramble farther away from him. “PLEASE! I–I’M SORRY – I WON’T – P-PLEASE! Don’t…”

Stan’s expression shifted. He knew what this was. She was begging for her life. Something had switched inside of her. Something Stan was not expecting. His hands were shaking, and he was unsure what to do with them. He hovered awkwardly, watching, before realizing that he suddenly felt grossly uncomfortable looming over her. The sheer force of his fist caused her to fall over. She was barely as tall as it. Stan could pinch her between his fingers and never feel the weight. She was miniscule. How was any of this real?

Jay was too busy rolling in pain to notice, but Stan sat in total silence for 10 minutes, his mind racing to figure out what to do next. Maybe Poindexter has some kind of cheat sheet on her somewhere. Maybe all those secret codes were about her and he didn’t want her to read them. How does she even read, anyway? The letters must look huge. Focus, Stan, focus. Maybe she needs some water? But I don't want to move right now. I could just ask her. But I don’t want to talk again. My voice might shatter her eardrums.

Eventually, Jay came to. She had shut her eyes tight for a while, hoping the pain would melt away on its own. Soon enough, it did, but even with her senses thrown off, the feeling of being loomed over was incredibly persistent. She didn’t want to see Stan, so gigantic and destructive, towering over her after he just tried to murder her. And she certainly didn’t want to hear his smarmy jokes about her begging for her life – the embarrassment of that was beginning to hit her hard. How could she even be in the same room as him ever again, knowing she had become the helpless, controllable little thing he so clearly saw her as?

Stan, trying to stay patient and silent, was only increasing Jay’s anxiety more. Why was he just… sitting still? She dared to take a peek and only saw Stan’s massive elbows pressing on the tabletop, his torso so big it looked more like an endless wall. She wasn’t prepared to hear him speak.

“Look, kid, I–”

But he stopped as soon as her eyes met his. The shock of her expression sucked all the air from his lungs. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes burning from tears. She was staring at him in horror, like he was some kind of – some kind of monster. Someone who acts so callously toward other people’s feelings and needs. A killer. Now’s not the time for this! But Stan’s mind wouldn’t let him rest. Not even as his hand twitched in his lap, unable to stay still. He jumped when she jumped; he had no idea how she was able to pick up on that movement. Disoriented and filled with anxiety, Jay slowly scrambled backwards until she found a stack of books to dive behind for cover. Stan just watched. There was nothing he could do.

Jay pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. Not being able to see Stan’s movements was probably a bad thing, but she couldn’t bear to be in his line of sight right now. She hadn’t cowered like this since first meeting Ford, and it all felt so eerily similar. Stan was just like Ford in as many ways as they differed – even if they didn’t share a face, she would be able to suss out their relation to each other. They both had this air of unpredictability and superiority, and Jay was now twice caught in the crosshairs. She had to get her hook. She had to get out of here. She had to…

Stan felt sick, just as he did in this very basement a week ago. It had been so long since he actually interacted with people, and he found that a lot of his survival instincts he prided himself on were not transferable to the real world; or even to tiny little people in the real world. Why did he think he needed to use violence to assert himself over someone as tall as a golf pencil? Why did she react so scared this time? Probably because you almost killed her. But nobody ever took him seriously. Why did she have to be different?

Stan sucked in a breath. Quit it, Stan. You can’t be doing this. But if he kept sitting there and staring at the books, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Fine. Then go work on the portal. Go be useful for once in your life.

It took Jay a while to notice he had left. She was too busy trying to stop her hands from shaking, and it took everything in her not to black out again from how fast the blood was rushing through her body. The sound of her own hyperventilating snapped her back to reality. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t even have any thoughts going through her head. It was completely, totally silent. She wasn’t even sure she could remember what words to use. But she eventually noticed that the vibe in the room had shifted considerably. The silence had become eerie, and the suffocating feeling was largely gone, replaced by an anxious panic. She hoped her senses weren’t betraying her, but a quick, subtle peek around the books confirmed that Stan was no longer sitting at the table, waiting for her to come out. She couldn’t see through the window, but a lot of clanging and a lot of cursing confirmed Stan had gone to work in the portal room.

Jay took the opportunity to finally stand up. She needed to grip the spine of the books to pull herself up because her legs were completely drained of energy. In a moment of panic, she thought she was maybe paralyzed from the incident, but she was able to take a few shaky steps. She blinked as her brain oriented itself, her eyes stinging, her world still turning. She didn’t quite understand why Stan had left the room, but she didn’t care. The only thing her brain had the capacity for right now was escape.

She stumbled over to her hooks, which were still woefully incomplete. Fuck it, she thought, wiping the sweat off her hands, I’ll just slide down the table leg – link these together, she managed to hook one piece of bent metal around the other with her trembling hands, then use this, she picked up, dropped, and picked up again what she had tied together for rope, and I’ll just wrap it around myself, and I can – I can – I just need –

Jay tried her best to assemble something that could get her safely down from the metal table, but she was trembling so hard that she could barely keep the hooks from slipping from her grip. And the more time she took, the more she panicked, and the more mistakes she made. The risk from falling from such a great height couldn’t be any worse than seeing Stan again. She had to hurry, quick, before he—

The stinging sound of scraping metal made Jay freeze so fast she could feel her blood turn cold. She was too numb to turn around, but having her back to him was even more terrifying. She slowly turned around, gripping her hooks so tight she thought she’d crush them.

Stan gaped back, eyes wide. It felt like he glitched temporarily before getting his ability to speak back. “Oh. You’re still here.”

She shrunk back, whimpering a bit and putting her hands in front of her chest in a protective position, tightening her white-knuckle grip on the hooks. She didn’t dare move an inch.

To her surprise, Stan, very slowly, lifted his hands up placatingly. “Don’t worry,” was all he managed to say in a scratchy, hoarse voice that barely sounded like his.

Jay couldn’t budge even if she wanted to. She was frozen.

“Oh. I see. The, uh, metal things,” Stan said clumsily, nudging his head at her hooks. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. I’d want to get out of my sight if I were you, too.”

Jay knitted her eyebrows. This was not the tone of voice she expected from him.

“Look, I didn’t – I didn’t mean to – I’m – I’m sorry, Jay,” he stumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Her heart skipped a beat when he actually said her name. “You probably won’t forgive me, and that’s alright, I don’t deserve it. It’s just – my life hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park. I don’t always… handle things the best,” he said, sounding profoundly embarrassed at admitting such a thing. “Never have, and I guess I never will. I’m just the Pines family screw-up.”

Jay arched an eyebrow. Her mind was telling her this was all an act – a pity party to draw her back in so he could do something awful. But her gut kept asking one thing: Why would he need to do that?

After a few tense moments, Jay lowered her hands and loosened her hold on the hooks. Stan, taking this as a sign of trust, slowly sat down, pushing the stool back a bit to put some distance between them. Now Jay felt comfortable enough to inch backwards until her back hit the stack of books. She didn’t even blink, in case Stan did something again.

“I know Poin–uh, Ford didn’t tell you anything about me,” he began, wringing his hands together, “but I, uh, don’t exactly have the most admirable past.” He took a deep breath. Why was this so hard? “I’ve had to do a lot of lying, a lot of stealing, just to scrape by. I lived out of my car for a while. Hah, I don’t even know how Ford tracked down the motel room I was staying in to send me that postcard.” He stole a glance at Jay, who wore the same skeptical look on her face. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s been a while since I’ve had… company. Or been around people who weren’t convicted felons. And when I came here, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else but Ford. And I sure as hell wasn’t expecting anyone three inches tall. So I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, I just… need to remember how to act normal again.”

Jay was floored. The depth of sorrow in his voice was something she didn’t think a human was capable of. And as freaked out as she was, she could clearly see this was an attempt to reach out to her, to offer an olive branch without having to keep apologizing and reminding himself of the terrible thing he’d just done. He acted impulsively, and he knew it. Even after what he just did, he was making the effort to at least try and patch it up.

Ford did the exact same thing.

“I, uhm, I can relate. Kind of.” 

Stan’s eyes lit up for the briefest of moments at the sound of her voice. He didn’t think that would actually work. 

“Uhm..” Jay had to pause. This all felt so foreign to say. She had never related to a human about anything. “About the stealing part. And the not being used to company part.” Stan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Jay sighed. Was she really about to do this?

“I’ve told you a bit about… borrower stuff,” she said, keeping it vague in the hopes that he forgot most of it. “A huge part of the lifestyle – probably the biggest part, really – is the… stealing from humans part.” She gave Stan a chance to insert a witty remark, but he stayed silent. “We basically take anything and everything we can get while they’re not looking. Food, supplies… whatever we can get our hands on. And it gets pretty lonely, because most of us – we travel in small groups, or pairs. It’s not safe to be in a big group. I’ve…” She debated if she wanted to say this, but judging from the small tidbits Stan had revealed, she guessed it wouldn’t be so embarrassing to him. “I’ve been on my own for a while. It’s – well, it’s hard to remember times with other borrowers. I could go weeks without speaking, and it – it would have been normal. This… this is all pretty new to me, too.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s new to me. I know how to handle myself,” Stan interjected, immediately regretting his defensive tone when he saw her exasperated expression. “I mean… that sounds like it was really tough on you.”

Jay huffed a laugh. “Yeah. It was.”

There was an awkward silence as both of them tried to figure out what to say next. Stan was remorseful, and a little freaked out, but he just wanted to feel okay with himself as quickly as possible. He could barely handle the nervous side-eye she was giving him right now, and he wasn’t even doing anything.

“Look, uh, you don’t have t’be scared of me, okay? I did somethin’ stupid, I know I did. I shouldn't have tried to – it was just a reaction. I’m used to havin’ to punch my way outta situations. Sometimes I forget how… tiny you are.” Jay felt her stomach sink at the direct call-out to her size, and she shrank even more as Stan peered at her. “Like, I could breathe on you and hurt you.”

Jay crossed her arms. “Yeah, okay, I get it. Weak and helpless.”

“Well, you’re a pipsqueak, that’s for sure,” Stan said callously before shaking his head. “But no, you – that’s not it, I just – I know this is weird for you, but come on, you gotta admit it’s even weirder for me. Up until a week ago, I didn’t even know something like you even existed. Now I’m talkin’ to a person who can fit in my hand, and you… you’ve been hangin’ around Ford for months. I’m just a… different version of him.” A stupider, worse version of him.

Jay thought about it for a moment. She hated to admit it, but he did have a point. Stan wasn’t the first giant she’s ever dealt with, but she was his first tiny. And he just lost his brother after not seeing him for a long, long time. That was a lot to deal with. She didn’t really know what Stan had been through, but judging from the way he spoke about it… it didn’t seem normal by human standards.

“...I know,” Jay said quietly, sheepishly, but Stan still heard. “And I’m… sorry, for riling you up. I said those things to make myself feel better, because – you may think I have this superiority complex thing, but I mean, how else am I supposed to compete? You… Ford, Fidds, you guys are gigantic. You can do things I can only dream of doing. Hell, you do things I can only dream of without even thinking about it. It’s… hard not to feel worthless in comparison. It’s hard to feel like I even matter.”

Jay immediately flushed red. Why on earth did she just say that? Why was she confiding in Stan? She was saying things she had never even told Ford. This is so embarrassing. He doesn’t care! He doesn’t have sympathy for you! 

But to Jay’s surprise, Stan didn’t laugh at her or make another joke about her size. Instead, he sighed. “Trust me. I know how that feels.” Jay’s look of pure surprise and skepticism told Stan he needed to elaborate. “You only knew my brother for a couplea months, but I spent my entire life with the guy. I grew up in Ford’s shadow. He was the smarty pants know-it-all twin, and I was the trouble-making, dumb twin. My folks cared more about Ford’s homework than whatever I was doing.” Stan stopped himself. The last thing he wanted to do right now was relive this. Why was he even saying this to her? “Hah. Looks like we’re more alike than we thought, pipsqueak.”

Jay crossed her arms. “Woah, let’s not get crazy now,” she said, slightly defensive. But her small smile betrayed her. Stan smiled in return.

“Hah, right.”

Stan rubbed the back of his neck, and after a few seconds of silence, he stood up, ready to leave and be done with this. He said his apology – he said more than he wanted to, in fact – and that was more than enough. The exhaustion was clearly getting to him. He’d slept maybe a total of 10 hours over the past five days. Yeah, that was it. He was just tired, not thinking straight. He needed a good night’s sleep. Maybe a day’s break from code-cracking and journal reading and tiny little people who could sit in his palm would do him some good.

He made his way toward the exit, but stopped at the threshold. Something was nagging at him, and he needed a clear head.

“You, uh… you gonna be alright, kid?”

Jay’s eyes lingered on Stan. Her heartbeat still felt elevated, her breath hitching every time his fingers twitched as he wrung his hands together. The thought of being picked up by him again made her head start rocking. It took everything she had to look up at him, and even then, she could only hold her gaze for a few seconds before the bile started to rise to her throat. She had to take a few concentrated breaths once she realized her breathing was still shaky.

“Yeah,” she said finally. She wasn’t sure how much she meant it.

“Okay,” Stan replied. He wasn’t sure how much he believed her.

Stan stood for a few moments, sorting through his feelings. Nothing about this felt real. It was all happening so fast. But he would go to sleep tonight and wake up in the morning and she’d still be here while Ford was gone. Just like it had been for the last week. Just like it was probably going to be for the foreseeable future. It was stupid, and unfair. But Stan was used to unfair.

He found himself staring, still unable to process how he could barely make out her form among the clutter of the table. If he didn’t know she was there, he wouldn’t have noticed her. He hated how much that freaked him out.

Ugh.

“I, uh, I guess I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

Jay stared straight ahead, then down to the table. Her hooks sat on either side of her. She had tied up enough rope. She had thought everything out. She knew the way out.

But then she looked back up. Stan leaned on the doorframe, hands in his pockets, his expression cautious, his eyes hopeful. He regarded her with curiosity, not disdain. He was waiting for an answer. She let out a long, deep sigh.

“Yeah, Stanley. I’ll see you in the morning.”

[doomxdriven]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ?

ruined by fury

you are angry. you are angry and everyone knows it. the fire within you will not die, cannot die. for if it dies, you wont have a reason to burn. your rage simmers close to your chest, it boils near something you wont touch. you are angry because it is easier than anything else. you are angry because you choose it over pain. you are ruined because you cannot feel anything but your own ire.

[terrestrialnoob]

Harley crawled into the apartment. It was organized, but it looked like the occupant didn't have a lot of time for cleaning. She walked softly through it, taking it in. There were photos of her target and what had to be her family, but no friends or romantic partners. Some had a pair of older adults, matching traits meant bio-parents. More of the photos were of the target and a younger boy - a little brother, the highest likelihood of becoming another target if things go bad.

Harley continued forward, following the light to where her target was. She stood in the doorway, looking in.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton, Arkham Asylum's newest psychologist, just got her degree and everything. She did what most newbies do, actually thinking she could get through to the Joker. Harley didn't want to say it was impossible, but everyone who tried ended up in a new job or dead. Harley would try and make sure it was the former and not the later.

Harley watched as the redhead read over a file as she ate from a takeout box. She didn't want to scare the girl, yet. The scaring her away from Joker came later. So, she had to wait for the perfect moment to-

"I know you're there." Jasmine didn't look up from her file, but held out the last box of Chinese food in Harley's direction. "There's plenty if you want some."

"Awe, you ruined the surprise." Harley walked out of the shadows of the hallway into the girl's home office. She snatched the offered box of food and took a few bites as she jumped to sit on the desk.

"I'm hard to sneak up on." Jasmine said, closing her file and finally looking at Harley. "So, Dr. Quinzel, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this evening?"

"Oh, call me Harley!" She laughed, she wasn't called Dr. all that often any more. She tapped her chop sticks on the file Jasmine just closed. "I thought you'd like a consult on your new patient, Dr. Fenton. I've got a lot of experience with him."

"I prefer to go by Jazz." She said with a smile, "While I appreciate the offer, I'd like to see how far I can get on my own. And, sorry, but I'm pretty sure your license was revoked."

Harley nodded as she swallowed to get the noodles out of her mouth. "I get it! You're new, fresh outta school, gotta prove yourself. But Joker ain't the guy to do that with. He eats people like us for breakfast, and in all the years he's been in Arkham, no one's been able to get anywhere with him."

Jazz sighed, "I don't like to believe people are lost causes. There's always something we can do to help."

"You can't help everyone, especially when they don't want it. And it's not just a question if whether or not he can be saved or whatever." Harley set down the now empty box, Jazz pointed to another one that still had food in it, but Harley declined. "If you keep it up, he'll think you're worth his time to torment. There's no telling what he'll do when he inevitably gets himself out again."

"I'll be fine." Jazz said, but Harley had to cut her off before she said something stupid.

"It's not just you! You've got family out there he can target, your parents. Your Brother! Anyone you date will become a target! He'll do everything in his power to make your life miserable!"

Jazz chuckled. "If he wants to target my family, his funeral. My parents are - were supervillains. They've really only become less- well, hyper-focused on eradicating an entire race of being- in the past few years. And my brother - I'm pretty sure he's conditionally immortal. So that's nothing to worry about."

"If it's conditional, Joker will find a way around it." Harley said, but she had to admit, this might have been an unnecessary trip. "You sure y'ain't got nothing to worry about? What about you? How conditional is your mortality?"

Jazz smiled. Her mouth seemed too wide and with too many teeth. "Oh, I am nowhere near immortal. But..."

She stood up and the room was suddenly a black void. Toxic green eyes and mouths filled with glowing white teeth opened around them. "I doubt anyone could get close enough to test it."

The room was suddenly back to normal, but whatever that thing was was still there. Harley could see its eyes watching her with amusement from inside Jazz's oversized cardigan.

"Well, I guess this really was a wasted trip. You've clearly got it covered."

"Not entirely." Jazz said, her hand wend up to her neck to rub nervously, "Well, you see... I don't really have a lot of friends. People tend to get - uh, creeped out, you know? Or chased off by my parents or brother or whatever..."

"You wanna be friends?" Harley laughed so hard she almost fell over.

Jazz's face turned bright red and the shadow eyes looked way less amused. "Yeah, stupid question. You've clearly got your own things going on."

"No! No, no." Harley had to take several deep breaths before she could look Jazz in the face again. "I 100% wanna hang out with you!"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." She took another deep breath, "I mean, I really should have made a support system before trying to take on the Joker back when I worked for Arkham. This" she pointed between them "can only end well."

Jazz's face turned brighter than the sun. "Oh my gosh! This is amazing! We should - I have Thursday's and weekends off - What - what kind of things should we-"

Oh man, Jazz was like an excited kid. She must have had a really lonely childhood... they can psychoanalyze each other later. "Come over for girl's night next week. I'll tell my gf and bff to expect an extra person... Does the-" she motioned to the cardigan creature "-go everywhere you go? Does it need food?"

"Oh, don't worry about Jet, they only eat who I tell them to."

Harley barked out more laughter. "You're going to fit right in!"

Now featuring a Part 2

[liloinkoink]

one thing i think people get wrong about Martyn in the life series is he really isn’t loyal

like yeah, we all know him as the Hand, following the Red King as far as their shared grave, but that is… truly the outlier and not the norm with him

i mean, let’s take a brief look at other seasons. i can’t speak to Secret Life, as it came out when i was incredibly busy and i haven’t yet had time to watch it, but what about the others?

he won Limited Life because he’s a chronic traitor! he betrayed Scott, his ally for the whole season, so that he could win, and said he’d been planning it / wanting to do it the whole session. spent a whole season protecting and helping Scott, and laughed in his face to betray as soon as he saw a shot to do so

Double Life was a whole mess of Martyn and weird loyalties. just one example: he spent all of the first session hanging out with Pearl in favor of even looking for either of their soulmates, with no regard for how he’d been putting his soulmate in danger. when their soulmates dumped them due to being ignored all session and stormed off, he dumped Pearl just because. one session in and he’s betrayed both his soulmate and his day one alliance!

Last Life he teamed with the Southlanders and then made the Shadow Alliance in secret, so he was on two teams and never truly committed to either. he tried to kill Grian basically immediately when he got boogeyman, for example, and in the final fight he tried to lure Ren to himself by offering to team and then tried to blow Ren up

of course, i’m simplifying and ignoring a lot. he doesn’t earn the loyal reputation for nothing. he does a lot of things to help his teammates, like giving a life to Ren in Last Life, trying all season to win Cleo over for all of Double Life, or working to protect Scott for all of Limited Life. it’s not like Martyn doesn’t play the part of a loyal friend well, but, well.

the thing about Martyn is that he’s selfish. he’s basically always going to prioritize his own survival over anything else. he’s never going to roll over and die, especially not for another person. he’s good at looking loyal, because having allies will help you survive, and he knows making outright enemies is a bad idea. he knows he can’t make it obvious he’s a traitor, because then he’ll certainly be killed. but, when it comes down to the wire, he will generally bail at the last minute to save his own skin rather than protecting the people around him. when his loyalty is tested, nine times out of ten, he will not only fail, but do so completely without remorse

it doesnt take a lot to become Martyn’s ally, and once you’ve got a foot in the door, he will take his allegiances seriously (at least, to a point). but it takes effort to really earn Martyn’s trust. and, even when it looks like you have, there’s no guarantee he won’t yank the rug out from under you if he decides having you alive is more detrimental to his survival than seeing you dead

and yes, you can especially see all of this in Third Life. Martyn was absolutely not instantly ride or die for Ren—for a lot of the earlier episodes, he won’t say he’s on Ren’s team or that he lives at Ren’s base, and often tells other players he’s simply Ren’s employee rather than teammate and that he’s wandering or homeless. he trusts Ren so little due to Ren’s inability to keep a secret or stand up for himself that even Ren acknowledges in the third session that Martyn is probably going to leave him and find someone else. Martyn’s loyalty had to be earned, and it very nearly wasn’t. if Ren had taken a session more to grow a spine, Martyn probably would have left

but Ren became an ally that Martyn could rely on, who could stand up for himself and keep secrets. it became more beneficial to Martyn’s survival to have Ren around, so he stayed with Ren for the rest of the season, and committed hard to their kingdom. Ren earns Martyn’s trust by becoming a more dependable ally, and because of that, Ren earns Martyn’s loyalty…. probably

(half related, bc i want it in the post and i don’t know where to put it: after the execution, two sessions after Ren officially earns Martyn’s loyalty, Ren admits to being genuinely convinced Martyn was going to take him out of the series as soon as Ren gave him the chance!)

because yes, even here, even after Ren earns his trust and Ren trusts Martyn to execute him and they become King and Hand, Martyn was okay with killing Ren to save himself. Martyn has said he was going to betray Ren in the final session of Third Life. his entire plan was that when he and Ren hit the final 5, he was going to kill Ren. end Red Winter, usher in Red Spring. even the most loyal version of Martyn was a traitor!

now, you can decide for yourself if you believe he could have actually gone through with this—he and Ren were 6th and 7th out of the game, after all. maybe he wouldn’t have been able to steel himself. maybe his loyalty would have, for once, been too strong to kill Ren.

but it’s very possible that even the most loyal version of Martyn—the version of Martyn who has created this “loyal” image of Martyn in fanon—was only loyal because he died too soon to show his true colors

[hydrobunny]

everyone thinks that they know us

tags: confessions, getting together, friends to lovers

a/n: written from the idea made by the amazing @yangx2isawhore :3

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

it's exactly 11:34pm when the ringing of your phone wakes you up.

jolting up from your bed, you blearily glare at your phone screen. the contact name of SHIDOU‼️ burns into your eyes.

you hang up.

a second later, it rings again.

"what."

"y/n!" as always, shidou's voice is just a little too loud for it to be acceptable. "how mad would you be if i killed rin right now?"

you pause. you look at the time. you consider the probability of him telling the truth.

"pretty mad."

"great!" and you can hear the grin in shidou's voice as he recites out an address. "you can come save him then."

although you were the one that had tried so hard to befriend rin itoshi, you were pretty certain that you hadn't signed up for whatever the hell this was.

you pull up at the address at a sharp 12:02 am, annoyance already settling in underneath your eyes.

the address is a mansion (why would you ever expect anything else), and the recognizable bass of party music blasts through the windows. at least a dozen different colored sports cars (you consider how much one would sell for) are parked outside of it.

you debate turning around. unfortunately, you think shidou might actually be serious about killing your best friend.

best friend. how did you get to this point? friend. didn't matter that you might have been in love with him- rin could never see you as anything more.

you knock on the door.

a man you might be able to recognize if you cared enough answers. his dual-colored eyes flit over you with interest.

"hey there, pretty," he says, and his voice is slurring with the unmistakeable touch of alcohol. "don't think you're on the invite list, but i can make an exception."

you scowl. "no thank you. shidou called me to come?"

he cocks his head. "what could someone like you possibly have anything to do with that psycho?"

"he-"

the psycho in question slams into two-eye's side, whooping. "took you long enough!"

you sigh.

shidou ryusei grins at you, positively buzzing with energy. the smell of cheap (why cheap? genuinely, why did he buy cheap alcohol?) beer lingers around his face.

"did you kill rin yet?"

the grin immediately wipes itself from his face. "getting there."

he whirls around, a warm hand latching around your own- and then he's pulling you through the hallways of this too-big house.

the music hasn't stopped for a second since you've got here. in many of the rooms, you can spot groups of vaguely recognizable people, all of them in various states of buzzed-to-plastered.

you wonder how professional athletes weren't any better than the frat boys that threw weekend parties. (well, the age range was pretty much the same)

"where are we?" you manage to shout into shidou's ear, as he pulls you further away from the heart of the party.

"sae's house!" he yells back.

"what?"

the two of you slam into another room- shidou shuts the door with too much force - and the music fades away into background noise.

rin's head snaps up at your entrance.

"rinrin!" shidou crows. "brought you another babysitter!"

rin stares at you with genuine confusion. his eyes are hazed over, his cheeks a light red. "what? y/n?" a red solo cup, ominously empty, sits by his hand.

"yes, yes," shidou replies, pushing you forward. "the only person who can somehow tolerate your presence is here!"

you slip out of shidou's grip. "what the hell is happening?"

he rolls his obnoxiously bright eyes at your question. "little itoshi's weirdly drunk and incoherent. which means big itoshi has to pretend like he cares. which means i can't force big itoshi to drink an enormous amount of alcohol! so now you have to watch this idiot!"

"i am not drunk," rin snarls towards shidou. "and i don't need a babysitter."

he attempts to get up from the counter he's perched on, and immediately wobbles. you debate whether it would be worth laughing.

before you can make a decision, another side door opens.

and sae itoshi meets your gaze with bored indifference.

"what- you!"

he raises an eyebrow. you're not sure how you got into this situation.

you wonder how you're supposed to react to meeting the one and only brother you've heard rin talk so much about.

some inner part of you immediately doesn't like him. the other part immediately notices how similar they look, and curse their sheer attractiveness.

either way, sae loses the little interest he had in you immediately, turning towards shidou. "is this-" he waves a hand towards you. "her?

shidou nods furiously. "junior is perfectly cared for now. now let's get out of here!"

rin glares at all three of you.

sae sighs. for someone who's supposed to be the host, he doesn't look thrilled at the prospect of socializing.

the elder itoshi turns his attention onto the younger. "you're fine with her?"

rin's eyes narrow further. he doesn't respond.

shidou takes that as his cue. his hands place themselves on sae's shoulders. "good talk, everyone!"

and with another slammed door, you are left alone with rin. it's more than a little awkward.

you open your mouth- he shoots you a glare. you can take a hint. (even if it breaks your heart.)

out of a bored curiosity, and maybe a little spite, you start opening cabinets. they're mostly empty (you wonder what kind of life sae lives).

rin's gaze follows you the entire way. it's intense enough to give you goosebumps.

eventually, you come across a pot of gold- a wine bottle, its cork untapped. there's a ribbon attached to its neck; you spy the JFU logo placed on top.

"he won't mind, right?" you ask.

silence follows.

you open the bottle. if you're going to be stuck here anyways, why let it go to waste?

surprisingly, it's rin that talks first. "why'd you come?" he mumbles out, stumbling over a syllable.

you shrug, taking another mouthful of the wine. (it's good. too good. damn rich people.) "shidou said he was gonna kill you."

“shidou has your number? you responded? why'd you care?" he blurts out in a tsunami of words. immediately after, he looks away with reddening ears.

you eye him with slowly growing amusement. there's a buzzing in your stomach that's slowly stripping your self control away. "yes. and yes. and because we're friends."

rin tch's, still refusing to meet your eyes. you think he'll keep talking, but he doesn't.

so you take another swig of the wine bottle. maybe rin can be the one to reach out for once.

but- like always- you're the first to crack. after a possible fifteen minutes of brooding silence, you sigh.

"what's going on with sae?"

rin's gaze snaps to your face. "what about him?"

you raise your brows. (you think you meant to raise only one. you can't really tell.) "i thought he didn't fuck with you."

rin's face scrunches at your words. "what?"

you groan, sliding down from your perch onto the floor. "you know? i thought- well, he looks like he cares."

he stands up. "he doesn't."

"sure."

he stares at you with a complicated expression, and then makes his way over to you. you blink up at him.

"i don't like you talking to him," rin says, seemingly more lucid than before.

"wasn't really my choice." you shoot him a smile, raising a hand. he lifts you up to standing with it.

from how close you now are, the two of you are almost touching. if you weren't as delirious on wine as you are now, this would be much more distressing.

even now, it takes all of your will to maintain eye contact with him.

"you don't like me talking to him?" you mumble out.

rin tilts his head. "no."

"can i ask why you came here then? or why you got plastered off cheap booze?"

he opens his mouth, then stops. and then- "you're not doing much better."

you clear your throat. more than the wine, it's rin who's clouding your thoughts. his faint cologne- so much more evident at this distance- intoxicates you.

"that didn't answer my question."

his eyes narrow. "i felt like it."

you frown. "what situation are you in that made you want to get drunk with shidou?"

and his eyes flicker down. to your lips.

"what do you think?"

you stumble; rin's hand places itself in the small of your back. signature itoshi teal burns.

you're both drunk. you're in his brother's house. and yet-

and yet, you're both here, and rin itoshi is leaning down into you.

his lips meet yours desperately, his breath catching over and over again. your hands tangle into his hair- he groans wordlessly.

you separate with a gasp.

"are you- what?" you manage, face ablaze.

rin looks just as disheveled. "y/n."

"rin."

he steps back, eyes roving from wall to wall. "fuck. fuck, im sorry. i thought-"

that's not the right words you wanted to hear. you step forward, the wine bottle long forgotten behind.

"you thought right," you blurt.

rin stares at you. a flush sits over his face.

"i thought you wanted to just be friends. that- that you didn't want me." you say.

surprise, and horror, flicks in his eyes. "what?"

you cough out a laugh. "not very smart off the field, are you?"

rin's mouth opens and closes, much like a fish. you think he's going to speak-

he closes the gap between you two, and his lips meet yours again.

between gasps, he mumbles a "i could never not want you." into your form.

and you sigh out your own declaration of love

somewhere in the house, a door slams. someone whoops in exhilaration.

but in this room, it's just you and rin. alcohol tinges both of your breaths. you're both drunk on something bigger.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

yall..im workin hard on the last part of fbrc rn....BUUUUUTTT--

i thought of childhood friend (im sorry i cant help it) bodyguard katsuki being hopelessly devoted to big boss' daughter reader.

let's say the environment he grew up in wasn't good at all. he lived in a horrible neighborhood that had a survival of the fittest mentality. he had to rob n steal and fight to survive. and them maybe he got recruited by some crime syndicate who saw his potential from a young age.

he feels indebted to them cus they got him out the streets, so he decides to devote his entire life to this syndicate and his boss, who just so happens to have a child : you.

you're the same age as him, maybe a year younger. his first thought is that you're a pushover. you hide behind your father the whole time he's introducing you to him and you barely even look at him, but he's been told he has a bit of a stink eye because he's just sorta used to glaring at people.

as your father keeps introducing you both your eyes widen at him saying katsuki will become your new best friend. yours out of joy cus you've always been sheltered and you've never really had friends your age before, and katsuki's out of shock. he thought he was here to kick people's asses, not babysit some random girl !

when your father pulls katsuki aside later that day he explains that since he's a very dangerous man other dangerous people will try to endanger not only him but his family and since he's strong he'd like him to watch over you. katsuki doesn't like it, but your dad did save him from his life on the street, so he can play nice for now.

he's never had friends either, so he doesn't know how to play like other kids do, and definetly not like you do.

you have him follow you around calling him your knight, you stick stupid clips in his hair and get all pouty when he won't let you put that pastey makeup shit on his face. you have him kiss your ouchies away when you trip over your own shadow and you whine and whine until he let's you jump on his back to give you a piggy back ride.

though, the more he spends time with you, the more there are fun moments. he hates to admit it but it's fun to be a kid with you. you play games that he likes to play and you share your cookies with him and he carries you around and plays dolls with you in exchange. he kisses your ouchies away and you put a cool bandage over his cheek when he's done training for the day and press a big get better kiss on it. you tell him it's to energize him and he huffs and puffs about it but he always looks forward to his kiss after training.

you've complained to him about how you can't spend much time with your dad since he's always out working, you don't have friends because everyone is a threat and you're always being surveyed and watched from a distance and you cry and say you hate it. you tell him that he's your fifth body guard and that he's your favorite one by far. you smile at him and the apples of his cheeks burn, he tries but can't supress the proud smile that grows on his face "of course i am, i'm the best !"

he's been your favorite and last body guard since that day because katsuki has made it his life's mission to devote himself to his clan, his boss and most of all, you.

[doberbutts]

Recently Youtube's algorithm really wants me to watch Schindler's List and I never had so the other night I sat down and actually watched it.

Having a lot of thoughts about it but a major one I keep coming back to is how even an immensely and deeply flawed human being can go against "just following orders" and instead put in the work to actually help.

It may never be fully enough. It may never save as many as you'd hoped. But when you have a choice to either follow orders or save your fellow humans in front of you, I hope you choose the latter.

Schindler died in poverty. He was not a renown war hero nor was he at all famous or widely beloved. But he saw that he could help, even in some small way, and so he helped.

He was a Nazi who saw what the Nazis were doing to Jews and said no more. Enough. If I can even spare those under my charge, maybe a few extras, then at least I will have tried to do something about this.

I think a lot of people do not fancy this type of activism. It is messy, dangerous, and often completely thankless. Schindler survived as long as he did after the war due to those he saved helping him with donations. He was not popular in his hometown due to his association with Nazis, he was not popular in Germany, he was not popular in Argentina. His businesses all failed. His wife left him. A movie about his deeds was released several years after his death, where he would receive none of the benefits. He went to prison multiple times for simply refusing to hate Jews.

I think a lot of people like to think they're activists, but are sorely unprepared for doing this type of work, and then in truth become activists in name only. This is hard work. But without him, another thousand or so people would be on that death toll.

He took his position of extreme power- a Nazi owning a factory almost entirely operated by Jews, making oodles of money off that cheap slave labor- and said you know what? No. I'm not doing that. I can't save everyone, but as long as they are within my factory, you will not kill my workers. As long as I'm here you aren't harming one hair on the head of any Jew under my care. You're not sending or keeping them in Auschwitz. You're not randomly executing them for entertainment. They're people. You're not murdering them.

"Just following orders" they say. But they didn't have to. They could have helped. They could have did what he did, look around and say "what the fuck am I doing here", and stop. He did. They could have. They didn't.

[emittthehuman]

Thinking about the way Gwen, how she is just a kid like Miles.

Her only father and family member she had left pointed a gun right at her, actively chose his job over his own daughter after she revealed she was spider woman.

Gwen was distraught, her whole world was collapsing. And then two spider people, people like HER, showed up. Adults who seemed like they understood what she was going through, offered her an escape from her problems. To abandon Gwen Stacy, to hide behind the mask where pain can’t get to her.

So she goes with them.

But things aren’t what they seem. The adults are falling apart here too, Miguel blows up at every small inconvenience. He’s extremely hard on Gwen- of course he would be. He can’t get attached to another little kid, not after what happened last time.

And Jessica Drew? A bit more lenient, maybe like the mom she never knew. But she’s not her mom. She pushed for her to be there, but she won’t protect her either.

Gwen learns her father will die.

She learns that Miles was an anomaly, too dangerous to interact with. She’s not even allowed to see him.

She falls on others, Hobie and Pavitr are good people who care about her well being.

But she just misses Miles. He understood her, what they’ve lost.

And when a mission comes up from his universe? Of course she snatches up the chance to see him again without angering the only parental figures she has now.

She tried to protect him in the only way that seemed to work, hiding the truth.

But he’s so much more hopeful than she is. He is kind, he’s strong and he knows what it means to be spider man, in spite of everything.

And she has to watch him learn the truth, watch the new parental figures quickly turn against them both.

People who Gwen thought understood, send her back to her own universe by force.

Gwen is 16.

Imagine being a 16 year old girl, going though all of this.

Miles literally makes earthquakes in her life, changes entire trajectories just by existing. He saves her dad, just by proxy.

God. It is so painful to look at these kids. These poor, sweet kids.

[ahfrickenfrick]

they don’t talk about what the others say/do if they get gassed by scarecrow

the screams and pleas to people who are no longer here, the fact that dick climbs up buildings and tries to catch people who aren’t there

that tim acts so eerily calm on the gas, that the only way they could tell is that he wasn’t verbally responding along with his skyrocketing heart rate, and then the screams that come when he finally sleeps

it was when it took five of them to keep jason from trying to rebury himself after a rough dosage that they decided to actually talk about it

how cass has memories and sees blood from her only kill, over and over, feeling and seeing his anguish without a single word spoken

steph’s was being trapped in a hospital bed, she can feel bruce and tim mourning beside her, she’s screaming to be let out but can’t move

duke watches his parents get gassed by the joker, over and over, he’s never able to reach them. never able to save them, no matter how hard he tries

damian’s mind fills with hisses of how he’s betraying his bloodline, either path he chooses, one side is full of shame. anytime he’s gassed, it’s a toss up on who’s delivering the blows

bruce reveals that his mistakes flash through him, he constantly sees the heartbreak he inflicted onto his family, in field and out of, how sometimes it’s his own parents, coming and showing their disapproval, with how he’s failed

they spend the rest of the night in the main living room, covered in large blankets and drinking tea, just embracing the silent company of the others,

the comfort in the knowledge that they all know and have felt and yet, they all are still here

[universalitgirlsblog2]

🎀🍓⚞🎀・◦・⚟ YOU ARE NOT A VICTIM.🎀🍓⚞🎀・◦・⚟

🍓REALISE THAT LIFE IS A IMAGINATION.

You going to your job. Your job is your bosses imagination. He imagined a company that he wanted to create and then he put it into physical realm. So you are basically working towards your bosses imagination.

Countries are not real. We all collectively imagine a border but it's not real. It's all earth. Everything is earth but we imagine that those countries are separated.

Money is also imagination. It's just a piece of paper. We imagine that the amount of money in our bank is worth that much but it isn't. If tomorrow a big corporation says that the money in your account isn't worth that much or the money isn't in use anymore . It's not.

All this means that we all are living in a imagination. A dream . A game . Matrix. Whatver you want to call it.

We imagine everything we do. We imagine our future and dwell in our past which also doesn't exist. Future and past doesn't exist. Only this moment exists.

🎀REALISE THAT YOU ARE THE CREATOR OF YOUR IMAGINATION.

We can create this imagination or dream however we want it to be.

🍓QUESTIONS TO ASK YOURSELF

How do I want to create my game , my dream ?

How do I want my imagination to look like ?

Who do I allow into my imaginations ?

How do I behave ? Who am I? What does my character look like ?

🎀BEING A VICTIM MAKES YOU FEEL SAFE

Being a victim is the most comfortable thing because you don't have to do much. Your life is a circle. Everything just keeps moving in the same way , in the same circle. But this is comfortable for you. Why ? Because you know what is going in happen in the circle. You don't have to take risks. You don't have to deal with different people.

🍓CHANGING YOUR LIFE AND STOP BLAMING OTHERS

To take a leap of faith , you need to be brave. It takes guts. Everyone wants to blame everyone . At the end you will be left no one to blame but yourself. Your life is shit because of you. People don't care about your victim mentality. You know when they care ? When you get out of it. When your life becomes a success story. David Goggins is not David Goggins without his success. No one would care if he was the same guy before.

🎀YOUR LIFE WILL ONLY CHANGE IF YOU CHANGE

Everyone moves on and you will be left behind. NO ONE IS GOING TO SAVE YOU. WHY ? BECAUSE NO ONE CAN SAVE YOU. The only person that can save you is you. No one is going to make you change.

🍓GROWTH IS : 2 STEPS FORWARD AND 1 STEP BACK.

Everytime you learn something,it's one step forward because you have more knowledge but if you put it into practice, you will be 1 step back because you are not used to it. You still have to continue. If you feel uncomfortable and give up, you will be right back where you started. Stop abusing yourself by being in the same circle that you don't like. Stop abusing yourself by being the same person that you don't like. Look in the mirror , we don't have anyone to blame. As a victim it's easy to run away and be like " I tried I tried", You didn't try and you didn't try hard enough . Try again . Try again until you get there.

🎀REALISE THAT YOU ARE ADDICTED TO DRAMA.

Alot of people when they come out of abusive household , later they will think that it's too peaceful . They will start to attract people that will give them that toxicity again because this is the only thing they knew. Realize that you are the creator of that drama though. You can choose to have a peaceful life. You can choose to have peaceful people around . If you can't find peaceful people , just be peaceful on your own for a while until you find someone that makes you feel peaceful.

Stop creating drama when it was never meant for you. Stop involving yourself in things that were never meant for you. Stop watching things that are so dramatic.

🍓REALISE THAT YOU HAVE CONTROL.

You have control who comes into your life , you have control about who you date . You have control about what you watch , listen to , what you read. You have control over what you put in your mind. Your mind isn't a dustbin.

If you decide to open the news and it's all negative and now your day is bad. Don't blame the news. Blame your eyes and blame your hands for putting that on.

🎀ASK YOURSELF : WHY DO I ALLOW THESE PEOPLE IN ?

"My friend , partner is toxic". Why don't you start looking at why you allow them in ? Don't you have control over who I allow into my life? Why don't you ask yourself ? What is it in you that you don't feel worthy enough of having people that actually respect you ?

🍓WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO FIX YOUR LIFE ?

What part are you playing in life ? You can cry all day about being overweight or underweight . Are you doing something to fix that or are you just crying all day ? What are you doing to fix your life?

🎀WHEN YOU WANT SOMETHING BADLY YOU WILL FIND A WAY

When something wants something badly , they will get it done anyway.

🍓GO FROM COMPLAINING TO GRATITUDE

Turn your mindset around. Set your mind on a plan and focus on it . The more you start going from complaining to gratitude, the more your life will change. If you constantly focus on what isn't there instead of what it is , you create more of that.

🎀REALISE HOW PRIVILEGED YOU ARE

You are privileged and you want to talk about people in North Korea. They won't be able to see liz video or read this post since they don't have access to internet but you do.

🍓WE NEED THE GOOD AND BAD TO KEEP THE WORLD IN BALANCE.

This is how the world works.

🎀PAST AND FUTURE DONT EXIST

Accept your past and start working on yourself. It doesn't exist. You only have now. Don't dwell on the future. What are you doing now ? How you are now will determine your future and not the other way around.

🍓RECOGNISE THE WAYS YOU SABOTAGE YOURSELF.

Everytime something good comes into your life. Do you ruin it ? What in life are you doing that sabotages you ? You have to ask yourself these things.

🎀START TAKING RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR BEHAVIOUR

It's not fair what happened to you but whatver I do with it next , it's on you.

🍓TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF FIRST IS THE MOST SELFLESS ACT

If you don't take care of yourself , you can't show up as the best mother , daughter, employee or boss. You don't feel good . You are depleted and depressed. If you want to perform the best you want to be for others , then you should think about you first and nurturing you first so you are happy. If you don't feel good in your life , it's okay to take a step back from everyone and focus on nurturing you . Put yourself first . No is coming to take care of you.

🎀YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING YOU DESIRE

You deserve everything you want and you can get once you set your mind to it. Stop taking advice from people that you don't want to share lives with ,these people are miserable themselves.

🍓🎀 ⚞🎀・◦・⚟I LOVE LIZ SO MUCH. 🍓🎀 ⚞🎀・◦・⚟

[monayen]

Hey!!! HI!!! YOUR FANFICS ARE SO GOOD AACK

Can we (the starved) please have a Nyen dating hcs?? The reader can also be Luther's pet hshshshshs I'm literally going insane godd I'm so sorry Nyen's just so... So fucking fine..

Dating headcannons | Nyen

➷ Paring - Nyen x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - degradation, sadism, biting/marking, blood kink, predator/prey kink, mentions of killing, hes bad at emotions okay

a/n - trying to figure out how i want to format hcs so ignore that this looks different than the luther dating hcs. please. anyhoots whos dating hcs should i start doing next >.>

Hates you a little (probably)

Not in the “wants make you suffer and kill you” type of way he usually hates, but rather the “why do you make me feel this way?” type

How you make his cheeks redden and his palms sweaty, sharp nails digging into his own skin in overwhelming nervousness. It makes him feel weird, no matter how hard he tries to hide it

To care for someone other than his master, especially just a weak, pathetic pet like you… Nyen thinks in turn it makes him weak and pathetic

Knows loyalty from Luther. Knows satisfaction and pleasure from killing. But genuine love? It made him want to tear his heart out just to stop it from beating so fast when he sees you

The romance manga Randal gifted him hadn’t prepared him at all. He's reread them and reread them in an attempt to understand how he should feel but he still needed time to wrap his head around the reality of being in a relationship

Did feel like he needed permission from his master to be with you. Thankfully, Luther was happy (how cute!) as long as it didn't affect his pet duties. Nyen doesn't know what he would've done if Luther said no.

Doesn't like terms like boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, you're just his.

Calls you baby or sweetheart. Some pet names you’d hear a trashy construction worker catcall a woman down the street with. His gruff voice doesn't help

Doesn't really care what you call him as long as it isn't sickly sweet… does have the smallest thing for being called sir… but only in private!

He most likely wouldn't act much like a good boyfriend in front of people. Sorry, his own pride is just too high to look all lovey-dovey in front of others

Basically the embodiment of “he's just bullying you because he likes you!” you’d get from an adult when a boy would torment you in school. Except he actually does like you. Weirdo Nyen’s more comfortable when it’s just you, which means he doesn't feel the need to be brooding and scary in private

Loves to lay on your lap and have his head pet while he reads or watches television like the catman he is. Eventually falls asleep after some time so don't dare move.

Schedule tends to be the same, he's not all about change. His day consists of doing what Luther tells him, working out, and watching out for pests or danger

Still about the same since you guys have been together, but he tries include you in his day as much as possible

It can be nice, like him wanting you to watch him workout. Making sure to show off his abs and biceps… acts like he doesn't do it on purpose for you to oogle at

Nonchalantly boasts about how he can pick you up with ease, no matter what you weigh

Has in fact proved it multiple times by carrying you around place to place

Wouldn't mind you exercising with him– but be careful. He's a harsh trainer, can and will push you until you're a sweaty, exhausted mess. Kinda turns him on…

Other times, he’ll drag you into more dangerous or scary situations just so he can protect you

You're his perfect damsel in distress, someone to run into his arms and hold closely

Actually wouldn’t let you be in real danger. But if he knows he can handle it, (which he can) he’s not opposed to your praise about how he’s saved you

On the opposite end, Nyen also enjoys playing hunting and chasing games with you. There are times when he has taken you to a nearby forest, releasing your hand where the evergreens are the thickest, and in his low voice, he says, “Run.”

He loves to focus on the scurry of leaves crunching beneath your feet, the sight of your figure trying to keep up ahead of him, and the sound of your rapid breathing as he gets closer and closer

Nyen pounces and catches you every single time, dark pupils dilated with pure adrenaline as he constrains you. Hours will pass before you’re home again

There's not many date-like activities Nyen is interested in doing. Nyen doesn’t care to plan them, you live together anyways!

But if you insist, a picnic is the go-to. Simple, outside of the house, and he gets to have as much beer and undercooked chicken as you can stuff into a basket

Can also take you out on late night drives. Speeding down long, tree lined roads as CD music blasts with a hand resting on your thigh. (Nice!)

Does go out of his way to hit any animal(man?) unfortunate enough to be on the road. If he manages, he’ll pull over and make you look at the mangled body with him (Not so nice.)

Lots of territorial behavior. Nyen loves to share his extra clothes or his cigs (if you smoke) so you’re smelling like him. It just connects you two together, without having to say a word

Speaking of territorial… marks a lot. Biting, scratching, hickies. Even bruises if he's extra rough

He doesn't let you hide them. Would probably explode if he caught you trying to cover them with makeup or clothes and end up punishing you by marking even more

Libido is very high. Didn't actually get much action before being with you, mostly jerking off after a successful kill

But with you? Practically at any chance, he will

Doesn't care if you haven't showered, shaved, or prepped in any way. Will always find you incredibly attractive and irresistible

Even if you have periods, he’ll still pin you against the wall and rub his cock against you. The blood turns him on baby!

Has a fantasy of you being covered in the blood of one of his victims while he fucks you. Maybe less of fantasy and more of a goal. One day…

Treats it like a game, pulling and teasing you beforehand. Nails dug into your hips, a low voice in your ear whispering about how you’ve been teasing him “like the slut you are”

Drags you away from whatever you're doing. Not sneaky or polite when he pins you against the closest surface available, the only gentleness being the steady growl of his voice. Nothing possibly can't be as important as the need to stuff his aching cock inside what's his

Has fucked you in every room besides his Master’s and Randal’s. Would just be too weird…

A sadist (duh), but cares about you feeling good too. Won't hurt you too bad, though his definition of what is too bad might be different from yours. He wants you alive and mostly conscious

Made an effort to learn proper aftercare and to be less selfish, as he never felt the need to before

Still uses too much teeth when giving head and offers you a lukewarm bottle of water after sex… but it's the thought that counts!

Has a bunk with Nyon and still makes you sleep with him. Problem tends to be that it's wayyyy too tiny for both of you. You’ve complained to him to ask Luther for a bigger and separate bed but he gruffly responded for you to shut up and let him spoon in peace

Kicks Nyon out of the room a lot so it could just be the two of you. It's almost childish, bitching and hissing if Nyon doesn't give up his space. Poor guy, he just wants to lay in bed and smoke :/

Bit of a night owl, doesn't actually need to sleep much yet he still likes to. but does so very late. You’ll only know he's in bed when he snores against your neck

Always awake first, he's got more important things to do than lay around in bed with you (as he claims)

Will come back a bit later and wake you up with a cup of the most bitter black coffee in a cheesy matching mug. Just as an apology for the scratch and bite marks leading between your thighs he gave you last night. Drink it all, it's rude if you don't :(

[blckbrrybasket]

Double Negative

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: past breakup, fluff, alcohol consumption, Rafe being sweet

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.8k

part 1 here

Nobody’s gonna regret this for you

If it don’t make you smile (oh)

I’ll let your skeletons shake all evening

And bless your heart for tryin’

After running into you at the party, Rafe was unable to get you out of his head. He had worked so hard to forget about you after the breakup. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you anymore, he always loved you, but that was the problem. He was sure that he would love you until his heart stopped beating and without you it caused too much pain.

Forgetting was the easy way out of what he didn’t want to feel. Therapy was the other. He had tried, seriously tried this time.

Losing you was the largest eye opener he had in a long time. Getting clean and dropping toxic people from his life had done wonders, but therapy hadn’t. Rafe couldn’t get past the walls he had built since he was ten to speak about anything besides how horrible he was.

He had always blamed himself for how you two split. He knew he was to blame, he also knew you wouldn’t blame him. Ward was unbearable to him, infiltrating every part of Rafe’s brain until he couldn’t function as himself.

Rafe was the one to distance himself, focusing on getting his father’s approval. You were the one who broke up with him after so many lonely nights, struggling with your own mental health. Yet, you knew how Ward was. Without him you were positive Rafe wouldn’t have destroyed himself the way he did.

There was no one that could have saved either of you. Sometimes you have to go on your own to fix the problems. Rafe was certain you had said that before. You were always so wise. That’s all he could think about as he tilted his head back, downing his rum.

Drinking was an expensive habit picked up from his dad, but it was safer than the drugs he used to do. 

He had yet to see you working at the end of the counter. Rafe a few months ago would be at the country club, but now he was at a fancy bar in one of the nearby hotels. He didn’t like the recognition that he got at the country club anymore. 

Setting the glass down with a small thunk, Rafe lifted his eyes to the mirror behind the counter. He studied the eyebags that had come months ago and refused to leave. His hair had grown back out, closer to how you had known it when you first started dating Rafe.

He sucked in the side of his cheek, biting it while his eyes drifted around the space. Naturally they gravitated towards you, not even questioning why you were working there. Rafe wondered if you had quit your other job. There was zero chance that you had been fired.

You were an excellent employee, he was biased but also correct. Watching you now, dutifully making drinks while keeping conversation up with businessmen only strengthened his argument.

Rafe was too far to hear the comments of the man though. I’m on a business trip. The misses didn’t want to tag along. You’re so pretty and smart, you must be a heartbreaker. Your eye had been incessantly twitching since he had started speaking to you.

Feeling the second pair of eyes on you, you looked over to find Rafe. Instead of feeling unnerved at the second man staring at you, your stressed expression melted some. No matter what happened you were safe. Sighing imperceptibly, you turned back to the man.

“Sir, you have a wife,” you started at a volume you knew Rafe could hear as well as other patrons, “I know she isn’t here, but I doubt she would want you flirting with your bartender. Am I correct?” The man’s eyes widened, thoroughly shocked in how you spoke to him. Rafe’s eyebrows raised, looking quickly at the man. If he did a single thing out of line, Rafe wouldn’t hesitate to personally throw him out.

Didn’t you know who he was? Another washed up douchebag of a businessman, you’d had your fair share of them. “Ma’am I-“ the man started in an appalled tone. “No sir, I asked a question.” Your eyebrows lowered as you stood straighter, eyes casting an exasperated glance at Rafe. He chuckled silently, knowing you could hold your own.

Looking back in front of you, you tilted your head. “Would she?” The inevitable grumbling about the customer service came, his drink abandoned as he got up and briskly walked out. It had gone better than other times and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was due to him spotting Rafe as well.

Anyways, it was settled, you grabbing his half empty glass to clean. Out of anything you hadn’t expected Rafe to come over and sit on the now vacant stool. After the party a few weeks ago you had assumed he was ready to completely move on from being around you. Once again, you were wrong when it came to guessing his behavior.

“Hey,” he drummed his fingers on the counter. “Is this seat taken?” You rolled your eyes, turning around towards the sink to hide the smirk creeping up on your lips. “It is now,” you commented, sparing a look over your shoulder.

Rafe seemed pleased, smiling down at his glass. “Yeah?” He scratched behind his ear, “And is that a good thing?” Was it? You mulled over the question, placing the glass in the sink, and spun around again. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Your crossed arms pressed on the counter as you leaned on them for support. Not bad, Rafe would take it. He nodded, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Good…good. Uh, what time do you get off?” With the absence of excess alcohol you had expected him to be less forward, surprise flashing in your eyes. He must have registered what he said, panicking.

“Not like that! I, uh shit, I was going to walk you to your car!” Okay, that is a way better approach. You snickered and shook your head at his worried face. “Rafe, it's fine. I’m off in like…” You looked at your phone tucked under the counter, “Five minutes?” You shrugged, “Is that fast enough for you not to lose interest?”

Rafe wished to say he could never lose interest in you, but he was sober enough to know that was a terrible idea. “It’s perfect. A minute later and I’d let you walk alone,” he said sarcastically, smirking. It was sweet to see him bantering with you again. 

“Oh and here I was thinking you were my prince charming.” Rafe snorted at your far fetched claim. “Yeah, whatever. I’m going to run to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a few.” You didn’t know that it was an excuse for him to nervously talk himself down. He needed to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid like he had plenty of times before.

You blissfully wrapped up your shift, unaware of him obsessively fixing his hair before coming back out six minutes later. Rafe swiftly found you leaning against one of the pillars in the lobby. “Ready to go?” You glanced up from your phone, a smile growing on your lips. You quickly tucked your phone in your bag and fell into step beside Rafe when he walked towards the door.

“As always,” you hummed. “Thank you,” you mumbled when Rafe held the door open for you, letting you walk out to the parking lot. “Where are you parked?” Rafe tried hard to make conversation without staring at you to study every inch of your face. If it was socially acceptable, he’d commit you to his memory any time he could.

“Second row, over there.” You pointed in the direction. It had to be a sadistic joke that Rafe had parked behind you, or maybe a subconscious need to be near you. “I’m behind you.” You didn’t have to be told that, you could see the silver of Rafe’s truck glinting under the parking lot lights.

Maybe it wasn’t intentional, either way you didn’t mind, not when his hand went to hover above the small of your back. Rafe didn’t know what was okay anymore, too scared to actually touch you and possibly scare you away. Halting for a split second, you let Rafe’s hand bump into your back, immediately walking again once it settled over your shirt.

Once again silence fell over you. It seemed to be a recurring theme in the last times you’d run into each other. The quiet seemed to linger on the border of talking about everything that was new and the long past you shared when you had once known everything about one another. Stopping at the side of your car, Rafe’s hand fell away, letting you unlock and open the driver's door.

“Drive safe, ‘kay?” You looked at him and nodded with a small, sad smile, “You too?” Rafe’s demeanor softened, hand clenching over his thigh. He already missed the feeling of touching you. “Always.” Your eyes slowly moved from his as you got into your car and started it up. Rafe granted enough space for you to pull out and drive out of the parking lot.

He didn’t get into his truck until he had watched you drive down the side road, car lights disappearing into the night. If he hadn’t pussied out at the party maybe he would be the one driving you home. You would be able to rely on him again, instead of having to do things alone.

Rafe knew you liked being self-sufficient, but he also hated knowing you didn’t have a best friend and partner by your side. You in turn hated how alone Rafe was. After cutting out the toxic people from his life, he had lost a lot of close friends.

Ultimately, it was his decision for the better, but your heart still ached for him. Could you even be that person again? Should you text him? What was the point of no contact if every time you saw each other that invisible string pulled you together?

There was no point. At some time along your journey of grieving your relationship with Rafe you had let go of the anger and sadness towards him. After the last week or so from seeing him at the party, it was impossible to think of anything but him. Red filled the front of your car, your hand moving faster than your brain to get to your pinned texts.

One text, that’s all you needed. ‘Thank you for walking me to my car 🫶 i knew you were soft’. It was sent before the light could even turn green. You tossed your phone into your passenger's seat, focusing on the rest of the drive home instead of panicking over the message.

Still near the parking lot, Rafe tapped his fingers on his steering wheel as he drove home. The ding of his phone distantly registered over his music, his eyes darting to the screen. He couldn’t read all of it, but he could clearly make out your contact name with the heart he never took out of it.

God he missed you. It couldn’t hurt to text back, right?

[somewhat-insane]

~Shadowpeach Headcanons (I'm Delusional)~

I did this because I was bored... so if you happen to like this... uh... feel free to suggest other things you would want to see headcanons for (I also take art and one-shot requests too -3- (pleaseee, I need ideassss))

Neither of them bothers labeling their relationship (Macaque is more aware of identities and labels and identifies as bisexual. On the other hand, if you ask Wukong about his pronouns, he'll just stare at you silently before completely changing the subject.)

Wukong may be a jerk, but one thing he absolutely WON'T do is make fun of Macaque's art. (He was always happy when Macaque would express himself when they were younger and still has a similar mentality about it. Definitely would diss anyone else's art though.)

Both are subconsciously protective of the other's boundaries (Macaque steers clear of subjects that might trigger memories of Wukong's past, and Wukong makes sure others don't get too loud around Macaque (while still forgetting to check his own volume.) If you were to ask them, they'd say it's because they're the only ones who get to antagonize each other.)

Wukong is surprisingly good at dancing; Macaque is salty about it.

They fall asleep facing away from each other and then wake up cuddling

At first, they would stick around each other just to be annoying, but it slowly turned into them genuinely hanging out, and now they have regular "dates."

Macaque writes notes to remind Wukong of things when he can't be there to remind him himself, and Wukong doodles on them (and then forgets what he was supposed to do anyway)

Wukong likes to draw Macaque smiling (both genuine smiles and that bastard smile he does)

Macaque is surprisingly cuddly in the morning.

They are groggy after waking up, but sometimes Wukong will be up all night and super energetic when Mac wakes up.

Macaque constantly rearranges the furniture, and Wukong runs into stuff because he moves through rooms on muscle memory

Macaque tries flirting with Wukong, but it all goes over his head. Meanwhile, Wukong says things that fluster Macaque without even knowing it.

Macaque laughs so hard at Wukong that he snorts, and Wukong teases him for it.

They have so many inside jokes that their conversations have become incomprehensible to people who don't know them.

They don't like beds and will shove a bunch of blankets in a corner and curl up there if they can't sleep outside because it's raining.

They have serious talks late at night that they both pretend never happened in the morning.

Both of them get really excited about random things and will info dump on each other

Macaque is scared of his food/drinks being contaminated and won't eat/drink something that is out of his sight for too long; sometimes, he trusts Wukong to watch his food, and other times doesn't

Wukong loves eating peaches and playing in the dirt but hates the feeling of his skin being sticky or dirt under his claws; Macaque will grumble and huff but will eventually clean him up

They make weird noises at each other.

Wukong still doesn't understand tech and constantly has to ask Macaque for help. Macaque is more knowledgeable than Wukong but still has to ask MK for help helping Wukong sometimes.

Wukong doesn't save his drawings because he doesn't think they're that important, but Macaque always keeps them. The same can be said vice versa.

[lazycats-stuff]

Can I request a batfamily fic with a reader who loves reading and is rly shy but they’re trying to spend more time with them ♥️

Aww yeah... I can just see the fluff. Also, the speed that you sent this request made laugh so hard my friend looked at me like, are you okay?

Summary: (Y/N) is very shy. The others try to spend time with him.

Warnings: fluff, shy reader...

Bruce knew that not all of his children would be vigilantes. He knew that not all of them would be cut out for it. He was actually very happy to have one normal kid at least. Well, some what normal if you will. (Y/N) was very shy and introverted. It has been a bit difficult for him to open up about something.

Bruce never minded the fact that (Y/N) was silent and just shy overall, but there were times when he wanted (Y/N) to speak up when he was hurt or just bothered by something. Sure, as he is too emotionally constipated and finds it difficult to talk about his emotions, (Y/N) was just shy and that's what made it difficult.

The boys were fully aware how shy (Y/N) could be. Damian found it weird when he first came. He just couldn't understand how someone could be so... Damian couldn't describe it, which was something that he has never done.

You could almost say that Damian was speechless about the way (Y/N) was shy and how he couldn't speak up for himself. At first, Damian teased him about it, well, more like insulted (Y/N). Bruce and the others were trying to get him to stop doing it, but wouldn't.

It wasn't until (Y/N) saved Damian and himself from a very dangerous situation. Damian was shocked once he realized. It has been due too the fact that (Y/N) had a radar for stress. He has developed it after years of being stressed in public.

He could see it coming from a mile away and that might have saved his own and Damian's life. And Damian had to admit, it was incredible to see how someone who is apprehensive about interaction with other people could observe them and just see if there is something coming.

Damian was trained to look for those signs, but to see that an untrained, shy teen saw it before him? It made him gain some respect for (Y/N) and soon enough, Damian was very protective of his older brother too.

Whenever (Y/N) was in public, Damian acted as a bodyguard. Everyone acted as if they are (Y/N)'s bodyguards. They know that (Y/N) doesn't like the public and anyone really approaching him. Bruce and the rest of the family didn't have a problem with protecting their brother and son.

The only thing that they really hated was the fact that (Y/N) is bottled up in his room reading and not spending any time with them. Sure, he studies and reads, doing something productive, but he didn't spend any time with them.

Jason was the one who was the most whiny one about, but he understood why he shouldn't push it. Every time he would be outside of his room, Jason would follow him around, before just grabbing him and taking him to the couch in the library and then the two are reading together in silence.

(Y/N) liked it a lot and the two were just often basking in silence. (Y/N) always fell asleep on Jason's chest and Jason followed a few minutes later, catching up on the sleep he needs. The two had that routine and it felt nice.

Dick just watched the movies that were based on books that (Y/N) has read or if he didn't do it by any means, which is impossible, then (Y/N) would find that book to read it. If he read the book, he would comment during the movie about inaccuracies or accuracies.

Dick would often smile at the way (Y/N) talked passionately about his opinion. He wouldn't back down from it and Dick loved it. he stayed quiet and then carried his brother upstairs. (Y/N) was protesting it, but Dick knew he loved it.

Tim? Whenever Tim needed a break from a case and if he just needed to be listened to, he would go to (Y/N). His brother is a great listener and not just because he is quiet, but because he often tries to provide the solutions. Tim would just come in after knocking and then he would plop down on the bed and talk to (Y/N). (Y/N) would hum occasionally and Tim would be like, I know right?

And Bruce? He had no problem going to the bookstores to browse for books (Y/N) wanted. He walked behind him, offering his suggestions for (Y/N). The young boy would just hum and Bruce followed closely behind. (Y/N) took Albert Camus' Stranger and he was interested in the Communist Manifesto... But would he be judged for it?

" What's wrong? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) pointed at the book in question.

" Oh. I would take it. I have never had a chance of reading it unfortunately. " Bruce said, taking a copy into his hands.

" I'm just afraid of being judged you know. " (Y/N) mumbled and Bruce took a copy.

" Don't be afraid to read anything. Reading is a good thing, especially when you can read and understand philosophy. I will read it after you do. " Bruce said and (Y/N) smiled a little bit. Bruce smiled too and he put his hand on the back of (Y/N)'s neck to guide him to another aisle.

(Y/N) liked it when Bruce put his hand on the back of his neck. It made him feel safe and he liked that level and sense of security. Bruce liked it too, it showed to him that (Y/N) trusted him. He had no problem with paying for the books.

Bruce had no problem with spoiling his son with books. (Y/N) stopped, eyes focusing on a cookbook. He thought of Alfred immediately and took it. Bruce smiled, but didn't say anything. Alfred was one of (Y/N)'s favorites and he saw that Alfred didn't have this cookbook and (Y/N) would be damned if he didn't get it for Alfred.

Bruce just took his credit card out and paid for it all, without even looking at the price. (Y/N) smiled shyly as Bruce carried his bag for him. Bruce scowled once he saw paparazzi outside and (Y/N) saw them too.

Bruce often kept (Y/N) by his side, arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders, allowing him protection and a place to hide his face away from the invading paparazzi. (Y/N) accepted it and his hid his face away from prying eyes.

Bruce frowned at the paparazzi and made sure that (Y/N) got into the car in order to save him from the paparazzi. Bruce huffed as he entered the car, quickly driving away.

" Well, that was crazy. " Bruce said as he tried to make the light of the situation. (Y/N) nodded, feeling tired from the paparazzi interaction. His social battery is officially out and he just wanted to go to his room and read.

" Is your battery out? " Bruce joked and (Y/N) smiled very slightly.

There is this joke that (Y/N) has a low social battery and it gets depleted every time he has an interaction with anybody outside of the family and he would just make a be line for his room. Every time without fail.

Once they got to the manor, (Y/N) quickly found Alfred and gave him the cookbook and then ran towards his room, trying not to bump into any of his brothers. Jason was the first one to see him, but didn't stop him.

" What happened to (Y/N)? " Jason asked Bruce.

" Paparazzi found us. "

Jason whistled and then he made his way upstairs. Sure, his brother preferred to be alone, but that's not really healthy... And Jason wants to make sure that his brother is okay. (Y/N) hates the paparazzi and has had bad experience with them and Bruce had no problem punching one.

Jason punched one for his brother. He was happy that evening. Jason opened the door to (Y/N)'s room, smiling at the small groan from his brother.

" I know, but you need some comfort. I need to spend some time with you. " Jason said closing the door before plopping down on the bed quickly next to (Y/N), looking at the books he bought.

" I didn't know you were into philosophy? " Jason inquired, looking at the Communist Manifesto and Stranger.

" I have always heard that they were good, especially the Stranger. And I didn't thought that I was ready to understand it. " (Y/N) explained and Jason nodded.

" Lets cuddle. I missed you today. " Jason said as he hugged his brother, rolling them down to lay down comfortably. Jason closed his eyes and smirked as the others came in.

There were soft noises at the five brothers laid together napping. (Y/N) wouldn't want to change anything in regards with his brothers. They loved him, each in their own way and (Y/N) loved them back.

Nobody said a word as they drifted off, (Y/N) feeling comfortable with his brothers. If they had to nap to spend time together, none of them minded. And besides, they needed all the sleep they could get.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 16

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I didn't sleep very well but I'm here.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you move North, the sunlight fades sooner and rises later, the nights cooling with each mile. Nearly a fortnight on the road, and you return to the service of the queen. Bryce escorts you between the carts, gesturing in passing to his comrades, other times letting past another body on their own mission. You reach the front of the train where men with swords pace and keep watch over the surrounding lands. 

“Evenin’,” Bryce greets the guards outside the queen’s tent and they grumble back. The weariness of travel has overcome many of the travelers. 

You dip your head down and approach the tent flap. Before the card can pull it back for your entrance, it sweeps open from the other side. You step back as another figure falters before you. The king keeps hold of the silk and his eyes skim over you. He tilts his head and moves to hold the fabric open, beckoning you through with his large hand. 

“Your highness,” you murmur. 

His jaw squares but he says nothing. As you enter, the fabric falls heavily behind you. The king’s expression lingers in your mind, his silence even more. The tick in his cheek was hard to miss and you can hear his heavy footfalls as he stalks off. 

Within, the queen sits on a bench, playing with the tassel of her belt. Her father, Lord Dustan, stands to the side, arms crossed as he makes small steps back and forth. He tuts and chews his thumb. 

“Your husband does not behave as son-in-law,” the duke gripes lowly, “he would have let Debray fall to those vandals. He cares only for his frost lands.” 

“Father, he is only eager to be home. As much as I dread the cold, I cannot help but feel as such. I tire of this endless road,” Queen Jazlene yawns into a cupped hand. 

“Ah, but you must be a loyal wife. What of mine? What of your mother? She was alone in the castle.” 

“And you rode out to save her, didn’t you?” Jazlene prompts. 

“I am a lord of the summer lands, I am past my warring days,” Dustan snarls, “he would risk my flesh on an uprising he could crush with his left hand. He tests me!” The duke circles around as he jabs his finger in the air, “I deserve more dignity, more respect. I delivered him his kingdom.” 

“Yes, father, he is a frigid man,” Jazlene bemoans, “as icy a husband. He does neglect us both.” 

“Neglect?” Dustan faces his daughter, “does he not see to his contract?” 

She frowns and bats her doey eyes as she looks away, “it isn’t that he doesn’t fulfill his duty, it is only... how might I get an heir if I lie with my husband only once in a moon?” 

“Does he mean to deceive us? A son will bind us. A son is what we need. Does he think the summer lands will follow a king who does not sow his seed?” 

“I do not know, father. I... I have tried all I can think of.” 

“Mm,” the duke hums darkly, “that won’t do at all. Not at all. When I married your mother, she was swollen with you almost as soon as the vows were said. No, no, it won’t do. I will have word with the king, make certain he does not treat my daughter, his queen, so coolly.” 

Dustan stop and twiddles his fingers. You try to imagine him confronting King Geralt. Surely it is bluster for the sake of his daughter. 

“...we are ruined without an heir...” he mutters. 

Jazlene sits forward on the bench, “ruined, father? I am queen--” 

“Yes, yes, you are queen, but a queen has her duty too,” Dustan insists, “and it cannot be done with a negligent king. Leave it to me, daughter. The next I see the king, I shall handle our business. As I have ever done. Do you believe in me? For I did deliver you a fine marriage, didn’t I?” 

“Yes, father.” 

The duke goes to his daughter and rubs her shoulder. He leans in and you shrink against the tent wall, making yourself small. 

“Should it prove poor judgment,” his whisper scratches from his lips, “I will figure a way out.” 

He kisses her hair and turns to march out. He takes not notice of you though that is expected. Jazlene sighs as the flap falls and she leans back on her hands, swaying her leg. 

“Ah, the maid,” she cheeps, “you will fetch hot water for my feet. They ache.” 

“Yes, your highness.” 

She grins, a catlike expression and sits up straight, “yes, that is right. I am a queen and soon, the king will be certain to treat me as such.” 

You flit off to your duty. As you emerge, your chest stirs with unease. Something about their conversation has you unnerved. Though they said nothing outright, it feels as if there is more laced between the words. The queen and her father hardly sound as allies to the king. 

You try to wipe the apprehension from your mind. You are but a maid and not so well-versed on noble matters. It isn’t your place to unpiece their declarations or untangle their riddles. You are to get the water to sooth the daughter of Debray’s feet, it may yet save you a box to the ears. 

⚔️

You shiver as the cart bounces over the hard ground. You count a month or so since your departure from the capital though the days blend in a fog. The gradual creep of the chill has advanced upon the part, slowing the wheels, and sending the riders to pause and cover their horses. You keep the fur cloak over your lap as you lean into the corner of the cart though Bryce seems enlivened by the atmosphere. 

The dim sky harkens the crossing of the intangible barrier between the summer and winter lands. Sprawling plains and rounded feels give way to rocky passes and jutting mountains, interspersed with lumpy tundras speckled with patches of mud. Several times, your soldierly escort has had to help yank free the wheels from some rut or another. 

“Are we there?” You ask through as chatter, blowing into your hands. “The Hinterlands?” 

“Mm, by my guess, we are at the Fox’s Tail. You see, it is the little strip of land where no man lives, summer or winter,” he explains, reaching to scratch his beard. You envy the warmth it must give to his cheeks. “Isn’t so cold yet, mouse, better brace yerself.” 

You nod and look ahead at the grey, brown expanse. There are dustings of frost but not snow, only on the distant caps of rugged mountains that shadow the horizon. You hug yourself as Daisy’s breath plumes in misty clouds around her head. 

“Why does no one live here?” You ask. 

“There are no trees, no grass to feed the livestock or game,” he shrugs, “it is barren...” he sucks his teeth and thinks, “there was a war. Hundreds of years ago, maybe more. The summer folk spilled upon the winter lands, some squabble over a slain lord... they put salt to the earth. They did not only want vengeance on the living, they wanted their descendants to suffer for their misdeeds. Starve out an entire people.” 

He snorts and shakes his head, “what the summer people didn’t understand is that the winter skinned do not stay still. They move with the winds. You’ll see, mouse. You haven’t done the last of yer scurrying.” 

You huddle down as another cold breath sweeps through the air. You’re not used to it but you will be. That’s how it always is. You just have to take what you get and make it work. You can’t complain for what you have; a warm cloak, a cart, and a kind companion. 

⚔️

Your teeth chatter as you hold closed the front of the fur cloak, the hood over your head as you walk the frozen earth. More often than not, you’ve left the prized cape in your cart for your return. It is too heavy to wear while serving the queen but the weather permits you no mercy. It is far too bitter to forgo the extra layer. 

Bryce is unbothered in his mail and the simple fur trim the collar of his wool cloak. He only seems to thrive in the dipping temperatures, stoking a fire for your nocturnal return so that you may sleep in its warmth. His constancy keeps you from mourning the lost summer sunshine. 

He stands behind you as you cross to the queen’s tent, now raised with several layers to insulate the walls. You enter as you do every night, unnoticed as Queen Jazlene mindlessly stares into the pages of a book. She’s grown quiet these last weeks as the travel wears on her, even her wardrobe showing the effects. 

You feel a gust from beneath the tent wall and step away from it. You watch the queen, huddled beneath a blanket on a stool, shaking as she tries to warm her hands in each other. She wears several satin cloaks layered over each other but the fabric is too sleek to garner much heat. 

She puffs into her palms and groan.  

“Damn this cold,” she mutters, then sits up, “maid, tea!” She demands, “Something warm! Anything!” 

You utter a small “your highness” and spin away to your task. You step out into the cold and go off to find a fire and a pot. The queen has some berry tea in her chests.  

You acquire a cup of steaming water from a cluster of servants around a flame. You linger for a moment to absorb some of the fire’s haze then set back toward the royal tent. As you near, a shadow nearly collides with you. You keep the cup balanced as you scramble around the figure. The torch light catches the king’s golden eyes as they meet yours. 

“Your highness,” you murmur. 

He grunts as he stops fully. He stares down at you wordlessly. You cannot read his expression as shadows dance around his features, flickering various emotions across his face. He bows his head and presses on. You turn to watch him go as concern rolls up your throat. 

In those last weeks, months you believe, you’ve not seen much of the king. You’ve wondered after his elusivity. At first, you thought it might be due to the combat at Debray, perhaps he was disheartened by the last act of resistance. Then you surmised it might be evasion of his own wife. Alas, you could not guess and fathomed it was not your place to do so. 

This brief encounter further perplexes you. You can’t help but question if it is you. You recall the last day in the capital, the grit of his voice casting you out. Go. The memory ripples through you. 

You think much of yourself. It wouldn’t be anything to do with a paltry maid. You focus on the hot water in your hand and continue on to the queen’s tent. 

You enter and wrap the dried berries and leaves, steeping them in the steaming water. You hover over the cup, waiting for the water to deepen in hue and cool enough to drink. When you bring it to the queen, you feel her gaze upon you. 

“Your highness,” you hand her the cup. 

She hesitates to take it, only doing so after deep consideration. She holds the tea in one hand as her other tugs on your cloak. She makes an ugly noise. 

“And where did you find this, maid?” She sneers. “Hmm, I sit her in my summer garb and you wear a bear’s skin?” 

Your lips part and you raise your shoulders. You look at the tent wall and frown. You poke your hand outside the cloak and touch the soft fur.  

“Your highness,” you look down at the cloak then at her trembling grasp on the cup. “Would you like it? You look awfully cold.” 

“Yes, I want the damn cloak!” She yanks it hard, “I am the queen and you did not think to offer me a proper cloak? How stupid are you.” 

You bow your head and reach to unbuckle the cloak. When it is loose, you shrug it off and hand it over. You will find a spare blanket. There must be some left among the luggage. 

She shoves the cup at you and stands. She swings the cloak around her and hums as she pulls its snug around her figure. She sits again and rubs her chin against the fur. 

“Much better,” she says, “I’ve been suffering this damnable place for far too long.” 

She takes the tea back, spilling a drop on your hand. You back away, the liquid cooling and sending a new chill through you. You cover one hand with the other and clutch tightly, locking your jaw against the tremor that crawls up your spine. 

The queen slurps from the tea and makes a face. She sneers, “I want wine,” she pouts, “how long must I be deprived? Wine!” She snarls down at the cup, “but I must drink this bile. Oh, but the king bids it,” she raises her voice mockingly, “you must obey your husband.” She shakes her head and takes another gulp, “at least it is warm. At least--”  

She holds the cup away from her suddenly as her face twists. She drops it and recoils, panic washing over her. She keels forward, holding her skirts out of the way as she spews onto the rug spread over the hard ground. She wretches loudly, spasming with the horrid sounds snagging in her throat. 

The smell of her vomit permeates the tent. She stays bent over her lap as she pants. You come forward and offer her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth. She sits up and gulps tightly, her features drawn. She pats her lips. 

“Well, clean it up,” she turns her feet away from the puddle between them. “Stupid maid.” 

She pokes a sharp nail into your arm and you wince.  

“Your highness, are you unwell?” You ask, “shall I fetch a physician? Or some ginger?” 

“No, you stupid cow, I am not unwell,” she flicks her fingers at you before waving away the stench of her bile. She stands and walks away from it, her hand settling on her middle. She faces you and smiles broadly, “I am carrying the king’s son.” Her face darkens as she wrinkles her nose, “I told you, you twit, to clean that up. You best do so before I make you eat it.” 

You nod and bend your neck, “yes, your highness, I will fetch water.” 

“I don’t care, just do it,” she snaps and rubs her stomach. She lets out a shuddery groan and turns her back to you. You watch as she draws tight the cloak and sways with a trill, “I will be a true queen now. He cannot deny me any longer.” 

[ultravi0lence14]

Fireproof

sam winchester x fem!reader

2.3k | angst, fluff

summary: landing yourself in hell, is there possibly a way for you to find a way out? most importantly, can you find your way back to sam?

the feeling of heat and constant pain was something you’d grown used to. hell was not a fun place were someone would want to vacation, and you were learning that the hard way.

you didn’t know how long you’d been down here. weeks, months, years even, you weren’t sure. all you knew was that time moved differently down in hell, and what you assumed hasn’t been long upstairs has been decades for you. understandably, it was awful. your skin would burn off each and everyday, falling around your feet in sheets and flakes while you tried to control your screams of agony.

someone would come by and rip at your flesh. wether it be a knife or their bare hands, they didn’t care. all the time you spent down in the literal pits of hell, you tried to remind yourself how you got there in the first place. more importantly, who you were waiting for if you ever got out.

sam winchester saved your life in more ways then you could discuss. so somehow, this was your way of saving him. after sam got back from his own trip to hell, specifically the cage with lucifer, he found himself without a soul. that was a whole issue in itself, but when castiel found a way to return it, there were a couple of demons that weren’t too keen on sam’s disappearing act.

when they came to collect what they thought was rightfully there’s neither you or dean was going to let them have a go at sam. when it came down to the final moments, you realized they weren’t leaving without a token. both sam and dean were pretty badly beaten, and you tried your best to think of any other way the situation could work out.

but nothing came to mind, and the only idea you could come out with was you taking sam’s place.

it was a stupid idea, you knew that. but you knew that if the fight went on, these demons would kill all three of you. truly it wasn’t a fair fight. three to what seemed like fifteen never was but you and the winchester’s fought as best as you could in the circumstances. when the realization dawned on you that taking sam’s place was the best decision, you stared at the younger brother, watching as he attempted to fight off as many demons as possible.

this would crush them both, you knew that, but it was what you had to do to save sam. your voice broke up the fight, alerting everyone in the room on what you were going to do. obviously sam and dean argued to high hell, attempting to grab you and run away, but you knew the demons wouldn’t let you get far. so with a lingering kiss on sam’s lips, your hand faintly fell out of his as the demons took your soul, only leaving your peaceful looking corpse for sam and dean.

the whole time you’d been gone had been hard. sam could barely speak, and dean was throwing himself into any case he possibly could. on top of all of that, he was trying to find a way to get you back. he knew what hell was like, and he knew that the longer you stayed there the more you’d come back a shell of what you had been.

you were always a beacon of hope in sam’s life. your bubbly personality and colourful way of living always made things seem a little easier. dean didn’t want that ripped away from sam. more importantly he didn’t want that ripped away from you. you had always been your own person, and dean would go to hell and back ten times over before he allowed that to be violently stripped away from you.

little to the winchester’s knowledge, castiel was planning. he might have been a little discombobulated at the moment but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to help you as much as he could. this was the angels third time pulling someone out of hell, and he was starting to understand why people used the term in such terrible settings.

after years and years of what felt like torture, you watched as a bright, pure white light came floating towards you. all the pain was starting to make you drowsy, so you just chalked it up to be a delusion of sorts. what you thought was just your imagination started to become real as the light engulfed you, being the only thing you could see as you tried to shield your eyes from the blinding light.

when you came too, it was dark. though not hell dark. a silent darkness that had a chill running up your spine. lifting your arms up, you hit wood. oh god. the brothers had buried you. you were in a coffin and now you had to claw your way out, just like dean had done. your air supply was running low, and with all your strength, you started punching and clawing at the wooden confines above you. as the wood started to splinter, heaps of dirt started pouring down all around you. the feeling was suffocating, but all you could think of was sam. getting back to him and out of the ground was your only hope right now.

time seemed to become frozen as you dug your way out of the ground. the next thing you remember, the sun is beating down on your face and you are grasping at whatever earth is around you. finally pulling your full body out of the ground, you took a second to lay on the soft grass and just stare up at the sky. it was a clear day, and the overwhelming feeling that you’d finally come back home was starting to crush down on you.

a single tear fell from your left eye, and soon enough, you found yourself to be crying. tears of happiness, relief you weren’t sure. you were just happy to be back home. to be able to see sam and dean again.

how long you’d been laying on the grass was a mystery to you. the sound of what seemed to be something large flapping in the wind broke you out of your revere. lifting your head to see what that noise was, your words got caught in your throat as castiel stood tall above you, looking down on your frame with teary eyes and a somber, happy smile.

“cas!” you had never been happy to see the angel in your life. with all the strength you could muster, you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his body in a hug. “i can’t believe you’re here! i am so glad to see you.” the feeling of the angels arms wrapping tighter around you made a choked sob escape your lips. you were so happy to see him, so happy to see someone who wasn’t trying to chop or filet your skin off.

pulling away from your body, castiel put his hands on your shoulders. “i was there, i helped you. you saw me right? i hope you know i was there with you the whole way out.” his words weren’t really clicking into your brain, until they did. castiel was the white light you saw. he engulfed your essence, saving you from the literal pits of hell.

“that was you?” the tears streaming down your face were now going onto your neck, making you look like a complete mess. but as cas nodded to affirm your question, you couldn’t really care. smiling at him for what seemed like the thousandth time, you whispered a small ‘thank you’ as he started directing you out of the clearing towards civilization.

looking around, the area seemed awfully familiar. wherever sam and dean buried you didn’t click in until you and cas walked past a small ice cream shop. you were in california. well, a small town in california, the one you grew up in. those saps laid you to rest in the one place you always felt comfortable, the one place you truly called home. you caught yourself before a couple tears could fall, not wanting castiel to see

stopping in a more secluded area, castiel rested his hand on your shoulder as you looked at him expectantly. “sam and dean are at bobby’s in south dakota. i wanted to wait to teleport there until there were no wandering eyes. hold on.” with that you felt like you’d been knocked off your feet with the air sucked out of your lungs.

when your eyes readjusted, the two of you were in front of bobby’s house, still the same as it used to be. the angel led you through the threshold of the home, standing with you in the front entrance as he looked around for any of the three men who were usually somewhere in the home.

a rustle from the upstairs startled you, and you realized how nervous you really were. what if sam and dean had moved on and didn’t care for you anymore? what if they were happier when you were dead? you didn’t know what to think as you watched dean and bobby come down the stairs. they hadn’t noticed you yet, but by the pensive look on castiel’s face, something didn’t seem to be right.

“he hasn’t come out of that room in days.” dean’s voice drifted from the middle of the staircase down to where you and cas stood in the entryway. he couldn’t be talking about sam, could he? you hoped and prayed he wasn’t, but something deep down told you that whatever you would pray for wouldn’t come true.

as dean and bobby rounded the stairs and came towards the living room. the sound of glass shattering bounced off the walls as dean and bobby noticed you and the angel. the older winchester’s bear bottle had fallen out of his hand, and the older man looked like he was about to have a stroke right there on the floor.

a second went by in a flash, and dean had his arms around you in mere moments. he knew you weren’t a demon. cas was with you. and the angel looked just as happy you were there as bobby and dean were. while you attempted to stop dean from cutting of your circulation, bobby joined in on the group hug and squished you till you were basically a flat stanley.

the sound of footsteps sulking down the stairs broke apart the happy moment. bobby pulled away and walked towards the noise, leaving dean to pull away from you at arms length and giving you a concerned and sorrowful look. there was only one person who could elicit that type of reaction from both bobby and dean.

sam winchester

his muffled voice from the top of the stairs had tears springing into your eyes. you had missed him so much, and being so close to him now was drawing a reaction from you that was deep down in your soul from when you were in the pits of hell.

dean rubbed your shoulder as sam rounded the corner. he looked terrible. hair a mess, eye circles so dark it was concerning. all you could do was stand there, watch wide eyed and nervous as sam’s gaze lifted from the floor from where you stood.

he saw cas and dean surrounding you. saw the light smile on dean’s face that concluded it was you. he couldn’t believe it. months of trying to find a way to get you back and you were here and right in front of him. sam couldn’t help himself. he ran directly from where he stood, pushed past dean and cas and engulfed you so tight in his arms you swore you almost shattered.

the muffled sound of his voice in your neck mumbling ‘oh god. oh my god’ brought you back down to earth. he was here and you were right beside him. all you had endured in hell led right to this moment. the incandescent moment of happiness that you would think about for the rest of your life.

sam couldn’t even properly kiss you on the lips. his revenging mouth kept finding new places to kiss all over your face. it was like he was remembering your features again. soaking in the plains and lines of your face is he could put them to memory forever.

he pulled away, looking at you in shock as his hands grasped yours. “oh my god, you’re home. you’re actually home! i missed you so much honey, oh god, i couldn’t live without you. why would you do that? i would’ve gone back. i would’ve gone back if it meant you didn’t have to go.” his voice started to break near the end of his words, and all you could do was squeeze his hands in reassurance.

“i’m here now sam, and that is all that matters.” he smiled back at you, lifting your hand to his lips. he paused as he noticed the broken skin and bloody nails on your hand from when you clawed out of your grave. his soul broke as he thought of you having to climb from the depths of earth. though the thought of you being here to tell the tale made him smile even more.

pulling you toward the stairs, sam’s enthusiastic voice drifted through the house as he pulled you toward the bathroom. “here. let me clean you up. i just need to talk to you.”

dean, cas, and bobby stood idly by in the living room. not moving a muscle as they let you and sam have the reunion that sam desperately needed. they were ecstatic you were back, but sam needed your company a little more than the rest of them.