#Hella Maze
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m30wk1ttycat · 3 months ago
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do you ever just want to re-read that one really cringe fanfiction you found on ao3, just because it's so cringey that it's actually kinda entertaining to read, or is it just me???/gen
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hippiedippiedoooo · 2 months ago
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why did 7 want to date 8? beacause ^^^
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pyrriax · 2 years ago
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GOD I LOVE THIS SONG
like. this is in sylvester's playlist because it so perfectly fits my vision of them.
like they're so much more than just a "generally caring person" and i mean like.
also just the lyric "no one who loves you should make you feel so unsafe / no, no one who loves you should make you feel alone"
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messenger-of-babel · 1 month ago
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Always Late
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Summary: Batman was late when you needed him the most, but he refused to let it happen again. (Batfamily x sibling!reader)
Word Count: 4.5K (This was supposed to be a quick fic 💀)
Notes: BIG AUTHOR NOTE INCOMING Before anyone comes for me- I know this was supposed to be a day for Chris. I'm just feeling a touch sick but still want to get a fic out, and I'm currently not able to churn out and go through his, so I'll write some Chris later! Instead I wanted something else, consider it a change up to shake some life back into the theme. I also rambled hella long on this one, so strap in, it's long and the plot got lost in the maze of my mind. I had to shuffle things around and it just kept growing and growing, oh my god so I hope it makes sense to everyone still. Clark caemo, some (very??) OOC villain work cause I forgot some of my original plot and villains so begging on my knees for forgiveness fr. GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/ TORTURE DESCRPTION FOR SOME AREAS. I should have made this two parts but I messed up and made just one massive fic. Was supposed to be batfam x reader but it started feeling more like bruce x reader hahaha. RIP my sleep schedule please reap the benefits of my labour. 😭
Again I was originally here to be a resi blog but I can't help writing for DC after a day of reading comics. On that topic I actually finished collecting Tom Taylor's run at #118, my store held #119 for me so I get to read that as a reward after the hell that will be my Monday.
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When you were taken, it caused a widespread panic among Gotham.
Tabloids across the city wrote about the latest missing person, this time none other than the latest member of billionaire Bruce Wayne's family. The Gotham Gazette had been running articles about you for months already, including the scandal that had come with it. Your dirty laundry and past had been aired for the entire city to read and speculate upon. Whether Bruce had just adopted you out of pity, sympathising with the way that you had lost your parents the same way he had. Gossip about it could all be a ploy for him to expand his influence in Gotham, after the riches and estate that your family had left you behind in their untimely death. The city was thrown into chaos from the death of your parents, both of them from founding Gotham families and well-established lawyers. It was shaken more once the Wayne had taken you into his household, and now it was all but alight as you vanished.
Fingers pointed in every which way, your disappearance marking the fourth among affluent families in Gotham. Accusations had even been hurled at Bruce, claiming that he had killed you in order to gain your assets and the other missing people were to establish an alibi. After all, Bruce Wayne had no alibi for the night that you went missing.
But he had an alibi.
Bruce reflected upon that fact for three days already, while he tore his hair out trying to find you. He had been out in the city, patrolling as usual. The disappearances were the latest case, and he was determined to stop them before they continued. He had been so involved in the case, standing so close to the evidence that he didn't even consider the option that he himself would be affected, or consider the perpetrator might targe the Waynes. he hadn't expected to get a call from Alfred a little past midnight, the butler wheezing painfully into the receiver.
Blood freezing in his veins he had come home to an empty house, windows on the third story smashed in. Alfred was slumped by the phone, its sleek body hanging off the hook. Bruce had pulled the cowl off without a second thought, cradling the older man's head in his lap with shaky hands. He had relaxed slightly when there was a steady pulse under his fingers, and the tension eased further when the older man had opened his eyes.
"Alfred," Bruce had sighed out, moving the old man from his lap to against the wall, hand keeping him upright. "Are you okay-"
"They took them." came the old man's mumbled reply, and for a second Bruce's jaw just hung there.
"What do you mean?" he asked, heart thudding painfully against his ribs, panic rising once more.
"They came through the window, cut the lights. I pretended to be unconscious to use the phone line, but they came back. Cut it shortly after I rang you." the older man said, looking up with remorseful eyes. "I'm so, so sorry, Mr. Wayne." he said forlornly. "I couldn't stop them."
Bruce looked down; jaw tensed. "It wasn't your fault." he said firmly, trying to quell the despair radiating off the old man.
"They took them kicking and screaming. I could hear them the entire time, but I couldn't do anything I-"
"Alfred." Bruce said sternly. "Alfred it's okay. Let me handle it, you go make some tea." he said, helping the old man stand up.
"Tea, yes, yes that's right..." the butler murmured to himself, hand to his head. "It's been a while since you asked me for tea, sir."
"It's not for me." Bruce said, pulling the cowl back on. "It's for you. make yourself some tea and we'll patch you up. Take it easy tonight, wait for the shock to wear off."
Alfred looks at him, hesitating, but eventually nods. "We, sir?"
Bruce hums, fists at his side. "Yes. This case has escalated. It's time to request help."
He keeps his voice level as he walks away, but Alfred notes the way that he turns the corner, and the anger put into his stride.
When he gets to the cave he wastes no time, calling in everyone he can think of. His chest feels tight, breath short as his vision swims. Every signal he can send he does, the blurring in his eyes seeping into his mind too. He cradles his head in his hands, trying to calm it but to no avail. It's only when the ringing of the Batcomputer cuts through the fog that he is able to look up, shaking fingers hitting the accept call button.
"Batman?" comes the crackly voice of Nightwing, and the fog begins to clear slightly.
"Nightwing." he says back gruffly, voice hoarse.
"About time, you were making people pretty worried, you know." Dick chides, and there's the sound of yapping in the background. "What's the brief? What's happened?"
"Kidnapping." he says, voice thick. "Broke into the manor. Alfred is likely to be concussed, but it shouldn't be too serious. He's making tea, Robin is out on the other side of the city tonight. Red Robin is with you, isn't he?"
There's more shuffling on the other end before Dick responds. "Yeah, he's been helping in Bludhaven, he came last night."
"Bring him. Bring Oracle too. Everyone...come home." he murmurs, hands shaking as he tries to think clearly.
"Bruce, is everything okay with you?" Dick comes in, concern evident.
"Fine. I need people back immediately. Why?" he huffs back, rubbing the spots from his eyes with his fingers.
"Because we've all been trying to call you for the last few minutes. This is the first time you've picked up."
Bruce takes a deep breath, exhaling softly. He hadn’t realised how badly he had spaced out. "It's an emergency. They...they’re gone. They need to come home."
"The new kid?" Dick breathes. "Wait, you mean-"
Bruce nods even though he knows his eldest cannot see him. "Gone. Now come back and come back tonight." he ends the call before Dick can say anything else, and his tired eyes scan the monitor filled with a string of outgoing distress calls and an equally large number of missed ones. In his haze he had pressed every com line he had. He had pinged Jason, he had pinged Dick. Hell, he had even pinged the League and Clark, who hadn't even bothered to call for clarity, his response status just reading, 'On my way'.
He held his head in his hands, breaths laboured.
Bruce had held his own reservations when adopting you. He knew about the media uprising that it would cause, the rumours that were sure to fly. He had known what kind of mental state that would put you in, how it would angle you in a whole new world of cameras, but he couldn't help himself. He had seen you while in the suit, and maybe he had taken you in to make himself feel better. For not catching the person who had killed your parents, arriving too late. He had been training for this his entire life, it was his entire mission in Gotham, yet he couldn't stop the very crimes that had put him on this path.
If he had been faster maybe he could have saved your parents, disarming the man with the knife before it plunged into the chest of your father. Maybe he could have arrived faster so that he could have caught the offender that robbed your mother before giving her the same treatment and fleeing into the night. Instead, he was only there fast enough for him to hear you scream as your parents collapsed to the floor. He was there as you cried and shook them and tried to stop the blood spilling through your fingers, but you were unsure where to start. After all, how can someone make a decision between stopping the flow seeping from their father’s chest and the one from their mother’s throat?
He had been there to pull you away, was there to catch the last dying light of your father as he stroked your cheek before making eye contact with Bruce. "Look after my kid." he had whispered, something Bruce had nearly missed under all your screaming. Bruce pulled you away while he called for the GCPD, and from one father to another, he made sure to keep that promise.
Your relationship had been rough, clearly distraught at the way you lost your parents. You were older than he was when the same had happened, but you were still young. You had clung to Bruce the day he said he was going to take you in, and he had managed to soothe you with a soft hand up and down your back. Yet as the tabloids got worse and the gossip began to grow, you began pulling away from him and seeking the comfort of your room instead. He had done his best to protect you from the media, paying money to have articles removed and when that didn't work, he threatened to sue. It made the Gazette pull their head in a bit, but it still failed to be enough. Evidently, as there was now an empty bedroom on the third floor of the east wing.
All he could do was sigh and blink away the images of the children he had hurt, in the name of Robin or otherwise. He had to rub away the death of Jason that he reflected on in sombre moments when he thought no one was looking. He had gotten you into this mess, attached you with his name and all of its subsequent burdens. So, it was his duty to get you back and get you back safe.
Yet three days later, he had nothing.
The cave had been a buzz of activity for all three days, and Bruce, no, Batman, was acting close to a slave driver. Tim and Barbara hadn't left the caves computers in days, Damian and Steph constantly scouring the rooftops. Dick was concerned, hell, everyone was. Even the gruff Jason had been called in, and reluctantly he had answered.
"You find anything?" Dick asked, leaning against the wall with his younger brother. Jason was still suited up, coming back from the patrol around Bristol area. He removes the mask and shakes his hair free, sighing.
"Nothing. Areas come up empty. No sign of 'em."
Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. "God, there's nothing on my end either. The Docks and all Southside of Gotham are clean, no traces. Any signs pointing to who it could be?"
Jason shrugs, helmet tucked under his arm. "No idea, as it stands, the kid's just gone missing. If Bruce isn't able to scrounge up a lead, I doubt I will. Not my forte. He should give Tim a break and send him out."
"Yeah, like he'll do that. He's got him tied to cave duty." Dick scoffs back. He feels bad, talking like your kidnapping was a causal affair. He didn't treat it like one, his heart stuttering when Bruce had called him in a haze and all shaken. It didn't a genius to see how attached Bruce had gotten to you in such a short amount of time, but sometimes Dick worried that Bruce was projecting his own trauma onto you. But still you were his younger sibling, a part of the family now. He had met you with a warm smile and a gentle hand the day that you moved in, coming in from Bludhaven to make the house a bit more lively while you got settled in. God, he knew what it was like moving in alone into that empty house, with only Bruce and Alfred to warm the halls. He had eaten dinner with you, took you out for walks in the garden when your grief allowed you move more than a few paces. He did his absolute best, and he knew that with time he could be a big brother to you.
Yet you hadn't been given the time, snatched away before Christmas even hit. He doubted you knew that Bruce was the Batman, or that the rest of the family had an interesting array of night lives.
Jason was the same in the way that he hadn't interacted with you much.
Honestly, he was awkward with kids, since the last kid of Bruce's he had met was the devil spawn who spat at him like an angry cat every chance he got. You were thankfully much older and easier to understand, but that still didn’t mean smooth sailing. Jason hated even coming back to the manor, and he and Bruce had been having one of their ongoing fights during the time he took you in, meaning he missed seeing you often. Yet he still talked to Dick (more so that Dick called him to make sure that he was okay) and the older man had seen you plenty. He felt like he knew you from Dick alone, but he wasn't oblivious to your story printed in the newspapers shoved under his apartment door. He pitied you, understood the grief that you must have been going through at the sudden violence that tossed your little world upside down. Sure, you had gone from luxury to luxury, but Gotham was unkind to everyone. it was the same violence that Jason strode to clean off the street, and his heart ached deep down that someone like you had managed to get caught in its claws.
"Do you think it could be the clown?" Dick asks quietly. "He'd do something as ballsy as this."
Jason tenses, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Not likely. That bastard likes to make a spectacle of things. No doubt he would have contacted the Bat the second he took the first victim or aired it like some twisted game show. It's not like him to lay quiet."
"So, it's someone else. It's unnatural for Gotham's villains to do something in the dark like this. I mean, it's been three days since they were abducted, and they're the fourth kidnap victim. There hasn't been a ransom note, a demand, a body. Not a peep for any of the captives. It's unnatural."
Jason hums in agreement, but they both jump as Bruce storms through grandfather clock entrance.
Everyone present turns, watching how Clark trails after him. Five sets of eyes watch the livid way the Bat cuts a path through the cave and gets into the batmobile, breaths too anxious to be released. Without a word the car screams out of the cave, and they all turn to Clark. Barbara casts a glance to Tim and then to Dick, who just shrugs, worry deepening on his face.
"What the hell's going on?" Jason growls, pushing off from the wall. Clark turns to face him, dressed in his Superman suit.
"We’ve found them." Clark says, face grim, and Dick shares a look with Jason. However, when Dick meets the eyes of Superman, he can see the flicker of worry in the Kryptonian. "Well let's get going then. Why did he leave alone?" Dick asked, slipping the domino mask back onto his face. Clark opens his mouth to speak but is cut off as Damian steps out behind his broad figure.
"Because it's the League." the younger boy says, green eyes boring in Dick's. "It's grandfather."
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Bruce drove like his life depended on it, which wasn't fair when it was yours on the line instead. He could see the dots on his monitor indicating that the others were following him, and he had assumed that Clark had proceeded to fill them in. He had asked his old friend to look after the city while he sped towards the outskirts, just in case the League decided to do something while he had his guard on the city lowered. His com crackled to life, radio filling the otherwise silent car.
"Oi." snapped the voice of Red Hood, modulated and grainy. "Don't leave without telling us what's going on. Aren't you the one always spewing that 'feel-no-emotion' bullshit? To not let it cloud your judgement? Cause from the way I see it, you're acting kinda hazy."
"I trusted Clark would fill you in." he says back, voice tense. Red Hood scoffs.
"Yeah, and he did. You called us. You tell us what the hell you want us to help with, otherwise don't bother calling at all. Don't drag us out, get us invested then not let us help when it comes to it. What was your plan, beat the shit out of Ras and taken them back by yourself?"
Bruce falls silent, and there's a slight huff from Jason on the other end.
"Honestly? not the worst plan you've had, and I respect the enthusiasm, but you still should have looped us in. I want to get a hit in too."
Bruce turns his head to the direction of the radio, snapped from his concentration on the road momentarily and it's like Jason can feel his confusion through the commlink.
"Don't give me that silence." he groans. "They're family, aren't they? I'm not opposed to a younger sibling, you know." he huffs irritably. "But do me a favour and control Nightwing, hey? He's looking as coiled as you. You might have to fight him for the first hit."
Bruce doesn’t say anything before the comm cuts off, leaving him in the silence once more and eyes going straight back onto the red dot mapped onto his GPS. You.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
When you awoke the first time, you couldn’t feel anything. Your hands were tied to your ankles behind you, black cloth wrapped around your eyes. what you did know was that you were lying somewhere concrete, face pressed into the dusty cement. You knew that on the day that you woke and they had brough you were, that there were other people thrown in the same cell as you. You also knew that those other people were dead.
You had heard them scream, heard the way that they begged for their lives when they were dragged from the pen you were in. One a day, until you were left alone with no one to talk to. They had all been kidnapped like you, affluent people that you recognised the names and voices of. You had heard some of them at events you parents had hosted and attended, and when you traded names, they had remembered you immediately. You weren't dumb, you knew that you had all been taken here because you were rich. That was the only thing that you had in common with the heiresses and finance brokers that had shared the cells with you, huddled up against the cool metal.
Now the only thing left was you and the stickiness that crept under the bars of your cage, grateful that the blindfold was on so you didn't have to see what it was. At first you thought that you were alone, that your captors had left, but you knew better. You could sense them all around you, quiet and watching. They were like an uncomfortable prickling on your neck, the ghost of fingertips across your skin. Yet the hours and minutes had bled into days, and now you didn’t care if they were there or not.
You knew that they wanted to kill you. They had killed the rest. You had been given small amounts of food and water the first day or two, but today there had been none. Your mouth was dry as you lay on your side, lips cracking with the desire to drink. Your throat felt like sandpaper when you swallowed, and the silence that you were met with when you called out only made your panic and helplessness rise. You had lost the ability to cry, body sluggish. It felt like everything was shutting down, the pain in your stomach unbearable and tongue heavy in your mouth. As the heat crept in and pulled sweat from your unwilling skin, you began wishing that they would kill you.
You supposed that your wish was answered when the creak of your cell signalled one of your silent observers had come for you, and the tug on the ropes binding your limbs together made you lurch forward. You kept your face pressed down, too weak to struggle against them as they dragged you out and gripped your hair, making you shift onto your knees at an awkward angle. For the first time in days, you heard someone speak.
" So, this is Bruce's new...child." Your captor hummed. You could hear the way that their boots scuffed as they walked, coming to stand in front of you. You could faintly feel the swish of fabric, long and tickling the floor. "I wonder if he was planning to hand the title of Robin over so soon.”
Your eyebrows furrow, but your barely functioning brain fails to process what he's saying.
"Are you aware of your family's lineage?" comes the voice from above you, commanding and deep with a hint of something malicious in the undertone, like a coiled snake waiting to strike. “Your real family, the ones who claimed to practice a just and fair law. Not Wayne.”
 You manage to shake your head weakly, grimacing as the image of your parents covered in blood flickered into your mind.
The voice above you tuts. "The sins of the father shall be bestowed upon the son," he recites softly. "And you are to pay the penance. Gotham will be purged, and the bloodlines of the corrupt shall be the first to burn, aware of their sins or not."
You don't even get a chance to ask what he's saying, the words sounding like biblical rambling. A scream is ripped through your throat instead as a sharp hot pain erupts through your shoulder, the sound of your own skin bubbling making you sick. You wail, body aching to thrash but the fatigue and weakness preventing you from doing such. The hands on your shoulders hold you still as the sensation is repeated across your body, stray tears leaking from your eyes despite your dehydrated state. It's only when you feel like you’re about to cross over, embrace the light spilling behind your eyes that you realise that the hands have left your body and that you're lying face down, discarded on the concrete floor.
You can feel the ache all over your body, a stinging and writhing pain that makes your whimper involuntarily. You can now make out that there is sound around you, echoing off the empty walls and causing your head to throb after days of silence.
For Bruce however, the world was silent despite being in the thick of the fight. They had pulled up the abandoned building on the edge of Gotham and Bludhaven, thankfully located by Clark and his x-ray vision after days of searching. He had stormed into the building with Dick, Jason, and Tim on his heels, his hands filled with a shake only the trained eye could determine as rage. The world had dripped into the pulsing cadence of his heartbeat as soon as he saw you, kneeling at Ra’s feet and being held by league assassins. He had hardly any time to process the way that you curled up and into yourself when you were dropped so carelessly, head thudding lifelessly against the floor. Forlorn, he eyed the way your body was covered with cuts and stabs, burns from the red-hot sword still held in the hands of a soldier. He hadn't known when the league had decided to dabble in torture, but Bruce felt like joining that night.
Jason and Tim were dealing with the assassins, the younger male finally freed from desk duty. He didn't know you as well as he would have liked considering that you lived under the same roof as him, but you had been warming up. He had really hoped that you could get along, but now he feared that this was going to push your back into the shell you had just started to crack, and that frustration was evident in the whistling of his bow staff as it cut through the air.
Dick had gone after Ra’s immediately while Batman raced for you, Dicks escrima sticks going for the head. Dick was fast and agile, muscles more tensed than usual as he sent well placed blow after blow. Yet Bruce wasn’t an idiot, he knew the limits of him and his team, and he knew the limits of Ra’s. That's why in what limited time that Dick bought for him he dropped to your side, slicing through your bonds with a batarang and letting your arms and legs fall free from their cramped position behind you. You groan lightly as he cradles you to his chest, weakly crying out as he justles the many wounds. He loosens the blindfold from your eyes, and your blink up at him a few seconds later, squinting against the light.
Your skin is sticky with blood both your own and not, flecked across the apple of your cheeks. He eyes the burns, the warped and rippled skin that blistered angrily and would surely get infected if not treated soon. He observes the many cages set up in the corner, the one he presumes was yours wide open and empty. He feels sick seeing the dead bodies in the other ones, imagining that it could have been you in there, dead like some caged animal for slaughter.
You make a weak whimper when he stands, and he has half a mind to join Nightwing in beating Ras so badly he'd need to use the pit again.
But he doesn’t.
He rises to his feet with you in his arms, and he calls for a retreat. You cry and moan as he hurries out, Jason and Tim covering your exit while Dick flips into the rafters and out of range of the Demon Head. He wants to fight; he wants to put them in their place for hurting his family. But the moment he had met your eyes again, it was like that day in the alleyway. You had seen him as Batman too that day, but as he laid you hurriedly in the back of the batmobile and patched Oracle in to prep the med bay, he knew that something was different from that night.
Because unlike the day you lost your parents, he had made it in time.
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fraugwinska · 5 months ago
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I've seen fanfics about Alastor × deaf reader
But what about.. blind reader? Maybe they lost sight in some battle
How they would be confused meeting Alastor at first: did someone turn the radio on- oh, thats a demon talking!
And how confused would be Alastor as his feelings started to grow towards the reader: he just enjoys their company! What else can he do when they like to listen to him spilling the tea and just rambling about everything because of his soothing voice? His favourite listener
Then.. their relationships get a bit different as in another one relaxing evening together Alastor asks if they want to see him..
And on their confused silence he answers bringing their hands to his face for them to "read" his apperience..
Just thought it would be hella fun to read! Not good enough at english, sorry for mistakes
I love your writtings! 💕Stay hydrated and don't dare to overwork yourself ☝
Hiya lovely Anon! <3 I put my own little spin on your idea! I love fics like those, and this one sat in my drafts for ages - I hope the wait was worth it! Thank you so much for this ask! <3 Warning: Contains depictions of attempted SA, please read with caution - MINORS DNI!
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The bookstore was always quiet in the evenings. Well, it was quiet almost always.
Hell wasn't the most... appreciative place for tombs and books that didn't have porn or egregious murder in them, so your shop wasn't really frequented much. Occasionally, a new sinner would find their way in, not yet taken by the unpunished excessiveness Pentagram City had to offer, and would buy a book or two, never to be seen again. The rest of your clientele were loyal regulars, mostly elderly demons and imps getting books for their masters in other rings. It wasn't much, but enough for you to get by, live a simple, modest life. Your shop was mundane enough as to not attract the more dangerous ones the city had to offer, yet held the beauty that only an antique bookstore could, with a reading room like atmosphere, mismatched armchairs scattered in between the high bookshelves and an old radio on the counter playing in the background.
That didn't mean there weren't moments you'd have to get yourself out of some serious situations. On rare occasions, the patrons of your bookstore became too demanding or rough with you, thinking they could intimidate or screw you over because of your... handicap. After all, how would you see the hand reaching in the register, or the little spell book slipping into the inside pocket of a jacket. The blindness you were born with on earth hadn't left you in your death, but the enhanced sensitivity of your other senses made things easier for you. You had learned to take your losses, unwilling to let these moments ruin your confidence in your work or diminish your spirits.
You navigated through the little store with ease, putting laid-out books back into their designated places - feeling the backs of the books like it spelled their names, and motion memory guiding you through the maze of furniture and shelves - your plain, long felt skirt softly brushing this edge and that wood panel. What you wore wasn't fancy, modern or stylish attire, but it was comfortable enough. And who were you kidding? At the end of the day, nobody cared for your less-than-ordinary appearance, but yourself.
Your mind had been drifting around between random topics for a while until, on your last trip back to the front desk, your round ears picked up the bell on your door and the faint sound of staticy talking, coming from the direction of the counter. A customer, at this hour no less! But you were sure you had turned off the radio hours ago... maybe the old thing was finally breaking down, you thought with a little sadness. You hurried to it, still hung back in your thoughts and babbling as you turned the desk to shut the little device off so your customer wasn't disturbed.
"Hello, I'm terribly sorry if you're bothered by the radio, I should have turned it off. Feel free to browse through-" you paused mid-sentence as the air shifted slightly. You had turned the familiar knob but the filtered voice didn't stop talking. Your ears moved around, as if the source was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, trying to determine its source, when the other occupant of the store laughed at the surprise written on your face.
"Apologies aren't necessary my dear, but that wasn't the little device here but me, asking for service. Although I'm quite fond of a little old fashioned tune - comes with the title of the Radio Demon, you see." He talked with amusement, or something in his tone seemed powerful and dangerous. As his words started to make sense to you, you held a sharp breath, struggling not to take a step back. Of course you've heard of Alastor, the Radio Demon, but you've never had the honor (or dread) of meeting him in person. Rumors had spread around in hell a long time before you'd even gotten here, stories of a powerful overlord who'd broadcasted the screams and torments of his victims, spreading fear to everyone, from sinner, to lesser demons, to even other overlords themselves.
"W-welcome to my store, sir! What can I help you with today?" You smiled pleasantly, hoping that showing him respect and going out of your way for a courteous interaction could possibly keep you from being torn to pieces. You heard the ruffling of fabric - a hand reaching into a pocket, wrapping it's fingers around a thick piece of paper, along a low, distorted chuckle. "A good friend of mine recommended your store to me, I am looking for a few... unusual books, hopefully to be found here."
You waited into the silence, one second, two, three. When he said nothing, only static noise slowly increasing in volume, you decided to speak again. "May you tell me the titles, sir?"
"If you'd take the list, little mouse, everything I need is on it." His voice had an edge of annoyance to it now. You didn't know when his presence had approached so close to where you stood, and couldn't decide if that was a good sign or not. You sighed, pulling the darkened glasses off you wore day in, day out, revealing the white irises that gave your blindness away. After a sound like a record scratch, you managed a helpless smile. "I fear if it's not in braille, it won't do much to hand me that."
The other demon was silent again, but the crackling static had dropped, and before you had time to add something that wouldn't get you gutted, he'd barked a laugh, sounding genuinely amused and entertained.
"My, isn't that a bit cliché, my dear? A blind mouse? Any chance you have two siblings?"
That joke was new. You dared to husk out a little laugh, too, your hands gently resting on the counter top. "I hate to disappoint, but no. I even have my tail still, no farmers wife with a knife."
There was a change in his stance, his coat sweeping the air as you heard the list was laid on the wooden surface in front of you, surprisingly not crushed or crumbling under the power of his hand. Coldness swept like waves of fog over the front desk and your hands, you pulled them away with a shudder, confused, but your patron just hummed.
"There, that should've done the trick. I'd rather not want to read my little.... requests aloud, they're a rather curious bunch, I believe. Very useful, though, especially those for more creative types in cooking."
You reached for the paper and thumbed through the braille letters one after the other, feeling a long list of more... taboo tomes you were sure wouldn't have even been mentioned in any respectable catalogue. Luckily, you were a glutton for oddities and curiosities, and with a small smile of pride you found that you had every book on the list on hand. Maybe it was this pride thatgave you the confidence so that you didn't reply and instead swiftly jumped ahead, bustling through the rows and pillars of bookshelves. Every step was calculated, from the short staircase to the tiny nook where you stored spell books and tombs of dark magic, navigating past all the tables and furniture to the particular bookcase containing ritualistic cookbooks. Once you had a feeling where a book would be located, you searched the titles by stroking the backs with the pads of your fingers, tapping quickly and analyzing the material and little bumps and nicks of the spines. Once found, you traced the edges of the piece and drew up a mental image in your mind to check it wasn't bent, dirty, torn or had any parts missing. Your fingers were your eyes, and they were keen.
As you carried the rather heavy stack back, the Radio Demon hadn't moved an inch from where you'd left him, as far as you could tell. It had been hard not to acknowledge him throughout the ordeal while your brain just went on autopilot after realizing he didn't mean to kill you, at least for the moment. On one hand, that was comforting; on the other hand, it was absolutely horrifying.
"Here you go, sir. Please, feel free to check if they are up to your standards." You set the books down carefully, counting the number of thick covers in the stack to be sure and your fingers brushed sharp talons as apparently the Radio Demon reached out to inspect the books as you offered. With a sharp inhale and a heated face you quickly drew back, stammering apologies. He only chuckled faintly, the static surrounding him crackling as if it, too, was amused.
You stood silently behind the counter and listened to him flipping through the pages, turning the books around to read their contents, humming here and there. He seemed content with the lot and you were sure that once he'd paid, he would leave, hopefully sparing your meager existence and not leaving any destruction behind.
"Very well! These will do perfectly, little mouse. And, I have to say, you have a very interesting collection. The quality of your inventory exceeds what Zestial promised. You might expect a few more visits from me in the future, if you don't mind."
The last sentence wasn't a question. It was a statement, underlined with the sound of a heavy stack of bills placed on your counter. Your hands confirmed what your ears already suspected - your patron well overpaid you.
"Not at all, sir, but you gave me too much mon...."
But the air shifted again, and a chime and a thud later you knew he had already walked out, his laughter the last thing you heard before the door clicked shut.
“...ey.”
What a peculiar man, you thought, still processing the entire experience. His voice had been darling, no wonder he chose radio as his medium. You were sure his smile you've heard so many demons whisper about was wide and predatory, but he had been so polite. Even the nickname he'd given you had been charming, compared to the names and remarks you've had thrown at you by lesser demons, and you shook your head at the ridiculousness of your face flushing at the memory.
'Little mouse.'
After a long moment, you finally counted the money and put the amount he tipped you aside in your hidden safe, making a note to yourself that you would give it back to him when he'd return. If he'd return.
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Weeks passed and the Radio Demon had kept his promise and visited again. And again. And again.
The first time he came back and you, already flustered, offered to give back the surplus money he'd paid you, he was baffled before he heartily laughed and ignored your attempts to return it to him, instead buying three more books and leaving you with even more undeserved cash in your hands.
Almost once a week he'd return to your store, sometimes he'd have a whole list of books he'd want to buy, and he almost never left your store with empty hands. Sometimes he'd sit down in one of the many chairs to peruse a tomb you set aside for him, predicting he'd find interest in it as you learned his tastes in literature, and he'd hum almost happily when you found a new curiosity or a grimoire that was especially hard to come by. And sometimes he just came in for a quick visit, not even intending to buy a book but just to chat a bit. With every encounter your initial apprehension shifted into appreciation, so much so that you'd grow to eagerly await his return, the sound the bell made when he enthusiastically swung the door open or the slight distortion of your radio when he changed the station to one that suited his mood better.
You were a bit enchanted with him, if you were honest. Not only had every interaction been intriguing and entertaining, he'd been one of the rare visitors who hadn't maliciously mocked or threatened you, or worse. And you found that you enjoyed the small banters you could have with him, the fact that he treated you no differently than anyone else. It was refreshing, and each of his visits put a spring in your step for days, no matter how hard you tried not to think about him.
By the time several months had passed, he became your favorite client and he seemed to have an everlasting interest in your inventory as well as yourself. You learned that he was quite a wealthy demon with a seemingly insatiable appetite for entertainment, and always with an eye for quality, which you vowed yourself to provide in return, if only to keep him coming back. You found you could spend hours with only him at the store over freshly made coffee, discussing various literary concepts and historical events he used as references, and it was a delight to laugh together about some particularly odd rituals in books like 'Old Spells to Cure Thievery' or 'Blood Rituals of the Flaying Kink'.
Sometimes, when you'd hand him a new find or a heavy tomb, his hands would lightly brush yours and his voice would drop and become a bit softer, quieter as he cooed his nickname for you - 'Little Mouse'. With your lack of vision, you didn't know how his face looked nor how his expression would've surely changed - but his voice took on a tone that would be fitting for a date, and the touches made you shiver lightly and tingle and you felt heat spread all over your chest and the pit of your stomach when he did. If your body betrayed those reactions on your face, he wouldn't tease you for them. At least, you never noticed if he did. Maybe he had the grace to simply not remark on them, you thought, for once grateful for your blindness so you wouldn't have to see your own - surely ridiculously dumbstruck - expression reflected in the windows of your storefront. But the physical contact between you became more frequent, more deliberately made, and you'd caught his own quiet sigh every now and again when he lingered for just a moment longer before the doorbell chimed and he'd leave again.
One evening, as you were cleaning up and preparing for tomorrow's customers, a soft knock on the already locked door pulled you out of the haze of your radio's gentle tune. Turning around, you moved slowly towards the sound of the interruption, adjusting your dark glasses.
"My apologies, but we're closed for tonight, please come back tomorrow."
There was no reply, no sound of footsteps and your ears strained to catch a whisper of a sound, to find a new hint as to who was outside. Another knock, harder now, sounded and this time it took all your courage to approach. Your hair stood at its roots as your hands rested at the wooden door, your senses tingling that you better not open - that danger stood in front of your store.
"Please go, we'll be open again tomorrow."
Your reflexes, acting faster than your brain, made you stumble back as the glass of your front doors shattered into a million pieces. In a panic you tumbled to the floor, hands over your face as the pieces broke apart on impact. There were voices, rough and foreign sounding, that accompanied the stomping of boots. You shuffled back on the ground, trying to get out of the way before being stepped or kicked upon, reaching to the walls and bookshelves to find some stability to guide you in getting away from what was coming towards you.
"T-take what you want, please, I won't stop you. Just... just take it and leave."
Your words were shaking in fear and the little hope that a verbal warning and submission would placate the robbers. To your horror the voices - two, if your panicked mind didn't fool you - erupted into raspy laughter and you realized then that money might not be the only thing these demons were after.
"You were right, Hank. This is going to be easier than I thought, look at how helpless the bitch is."
"Told 'ya, Tommy Boy. An' the best part..." supposedly the one called Hank said deviously, and you were yanked up at your wrists and thrown over what must've been your counter, your glasses slipping and breaking at the impact and your eyes dwelling with hot tears. You recognized this voice… just a few days ago this demon had come into the shop, just as Alastor was about to leave, lingering around the shop and leaving quickly mumbling a half-asses excuse without buying anything after you asked if you could help him find something and Alastor's static crackled dangerously. The same smell of sharp sweat and wet tobacco lingered around him, making your stomach turn. "... she can't tell anyone who we are. Hoh, look, her eyes are some freaky shit, 'n you bet her tits 're freaky, too. S'not even our damn birthday but looks like we got ourselves a gift. 'Ya wanna go first?"
"You know me - Don't mind if I do."
With a heart beating out of your chest and shallow breaths, you tried to feel with your only free hand for something, anything, to defend yourself with. You had to defend yourself. Anything would be better than what horrific thing they were about to do. There was only the flat, leather bound accounting book close by, but it was better than nothing, and in a motion of impulse and fear you slashed with it into the general direction you felt the weight of Tommy settle onto the counter top above you. His complice bellowed angrily, making your ears ring, and Tommy snatched the weapon from your hand to throw it away. His breath smelled of filth and cold ash, the skin of your throat burned when he wrapped his calloused hands around it.
"We're gonna show ya your fucking place, worthless blind cum-chunk bitch, an' when we're done with ya..."
There was a sudden, instant sound of feedback, a wet splatter and a horrified scream and hasty, fleeing footsteps before a wave of relief washed over you as your neck fell free from the intruders grasp and you heard a familiar voice.
"Oh, my dear fellow, do go on. I'd love to hear the end of that sentence." A low, distorted chuckle followed. Alastor sounded different - menacing. Bone-chilling. If those words would've been directed at you, you would've been mortified. But it sounded like honey in your ears, knowing who the recipient was. "Ah, how silly of me - surely it's much harder to speak without vocal chords."
Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as the sounds of violence became ever more gruesome. A whipping sound, a wail and a choked gasp and two stomach-churning thuds of something hitting the floor.
"Well that's not handy at all - you can't even sign your pathetic pleas now. How unfortunate to be in such a vulnerable position, isn't it?"
A thud, then another - your stomach turned as the room got flooded with a different type of warmth. Your lungs and chest stung from the stench of iron and decay and your throat hurt as you realized one aura had vanished from the store and Tommy was most likely reduced to a fleshy pile on the ground. Suddenly you felt a sharp but warm, strangely long but familar hand cradling the back of your skull, pressing your cheek against a broad, angled shoulder, another wrapped tightly around your shoulders, resting under your ears. It was quiet, now - you could only hear your staggered breathing and Alastors static that had gone down a notch or two. You thought his breathing had become more labored, too, when he slowly, gently, let go and straightened you to bring you to a standing position, his hands shifting into their usual shape as they came to rest lightly on your upper arms.
"Are you alright, dear?" His voice was almost back to the tone you were so fond of - almost. There still was an undertone, a dangerous sharpness. Your fingertips instinctively grasped and searched until they met with the familiar texture of his clothing and you nodded.
"Y-yes... I think so, yes. What - what happened to the other one?"
There was a deep laugh, one you haven't heard yet from him. "Oh, my dear, no need to fret over that. I'll deal with that pest later. I should've dealt with him the moment he stepped into your store. An oversight I intend to shortly redeem."
It should have frightened you - should've made the situation so, so much worse, hearing that Alastor planned more torture for that vile creature, probably even an equally gruesome death like the one his friend got. But his words only calmed you. Made you feel... safer. Your fingers lingered on his suit longer than you expected, tracing the detailed seams of his lapels, smoothing out invisible wrinkles on the fabric, feeling the details of the cool, metallic buttons. And he let you. He stood still, allowing your hands to see what your eyes couldn't.
"I can't decide if it's a blessing or a shame that you can't see the carnage I caused. Although I am pleased that you didn't have to look at the ugly faces of those cretins who tried to defile you." He took your hands from his coat and placed them softly on his face. "But maybe… you can try to envision what your savior looks like, hm?"
His hands left yours again, though you found the sensation and feeling of his touch remained where he placed them. Your heart fluttered as you couldn't keep yourself from running your palms and fingertips over his skin, cautiously tracing his angular jaw, making out the distinct feeling and sharp lines of a toothy grin. Then you pushed further, fingers running along a slight bow and over the indent where his brows arched, his cheekbones prominent enough you felt the warmth of blood flushing under the skin as the mental image of his face got clearer.
You were in awe that you could do this, that he encouraged it even, but he allowed you the tender moment, making a muffled humming sound and exhaling quietly under your soft, curious touch. You realized at last that his eyes were closed for you, the skin there slightly pliant and firm at the same time. With the tips of your fingers, you followed the firm, straight bridge of his nose down the length of it and he inhaled sharply when you brushed his lips. The familiar sound of static increased just enough for you to realize there had been complete silence aside from your soft and his steady breathing. He opened his eyes again, slowly taking your hands away to leave a feathery light, lingering kiss on your knuckles as he hummed thoughtfully.
"Now, let me clean up this mess, we don't want you stumble over any... unpleasant bits." You heard a snap and felt the air whirring around you, filling with a thick, fog-like sensation as you heard your floors creaking, wood mending and cracking and tiny bits of glass swirling around you, piecing itself together and returning into their frame. Not even a minute later the shop felt normal again, the unpleasant smell gone as well, and with it the overall apprehension the threat had caused.
"Thank you, Alastor. Truly, I don't know what would've happened if you weren't..." you started, pausing as his hands wandered gently around your face to put on your miraculously repaired glasses. He laughed softly, tapping a gentle, slender finger on the tip of your nose.
"Luckily we didn't find out, did we? Ah, but, unfortunately, I'd say the night has been spoiled for us, given that there's another vermin to take care of." He walked behind you, carefully setting the accounting book you had used as an attempted weapon into your hands, his taloned fingers curling gently around yours as if to make sure you had a proper hold on it.
"You lock up when I'm gone, little mouse. And who knows - Maybe we'll continue to see each other... tomorrow night."
And then you felt another gentle peck, this time on your flushed cheek, and the door opened with the bell ringing, the faint crackle of a radio fading and his heavy, signature scent of burned wood and bourbon lingering around you as you hurried to bolt the doors shut, heart racing painfully in your chest at the prospect of adding even more parts of the Radio Demon to the image in your mind.
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utsuboarchive · 1 year ago
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jade follows him at a sedate pace as he speaks. watching and listening as the realization dawns on him. oh, he could have been upfront from the very beginning- but why make it that easy? this was better anyway, an amusing highlight of his day. and honestly, judging from his betrothed, there were many many more to come. elegant as he was, vil certainly seemed quite clumsy as well. perhaps it was unfair to judge him for it-- today was an intense and stressful one.
" well i'm just saying, since i am the groom, it might be a little strange. " slowing to a stop just as vil does. a hand is rest over his own chest, and he tilts his head. " don't you think so? " his smile close lipped to hide his teeth.
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the apology comes swiftly. as if jade had not just suggested the two of them just run away together. an ironic twist on another trope he has read in fairy tales before.
" ah unfortunately, you're right. " he acquiesces.
his father would not take very long to notice something was amiss. mother too- they both fuss and worry over every little thing. vil continues to stammer; another apology and a half spoken question. did he what? want to be married? sure, eventually he may of liked to. but this? this was far far out of his hands. so no, he hadn't been too keen on following this through. alas, not much he can do for it. best to do as he has always done; and try to bend this in his favor. " i think i'd be fine with this match, now that i've met you in person. " spoken with a great deal of confidence.
yes, vil was much better than he thought, considering. the fact they got to meet at all before they practice what they're meant to do or say-- is quite lucky! " i'd merely said so to save us both quite a bit of embarrassment later on. "
after a beat, jade gestures with one gloved hand. now showing vil the slightly hidden gate that he'd used to meet him on this side. " should we go back then? i do think the rehearsal will start fairly soon. " a pleased lilt to his tone. was it because he was truly happy to go back? or because he'd just struck vil another blow? very hard to tell.
" and if anyone asks, you can say it was my fault you'd been away so long. i'd just been too eager to finally meet who i'm meant to spend my life with. "
Oh, he was a mess. Or at least, he felt like one. From making his escape out of the building to scaling the damned garden wall — it feels as though he's been on a series of embarrassing himself one way or another. To think, he made this escape somewhat clean only for the best man to foil everything. No doubt about it, he was set up and probably doing all of this to get a kick out of Vil's attempts. Terrible. The whole thing!
What's worse is that Vil couldn't quite read this guy like he'd be able to with most individuals he comes across. It's quite simple with most but this one ... there's no way of telling what he's even thinking or feeling from that look in his eyes. That's even more unnerving. Social cues are practically blurred with him but Vil was determined to see this through. He will get out of here. He'll get away from this guy and he'll vanish. Well, that was the plan...
Attempting to smooth his (what he assumes to be) wild hair, Vil's already trying to walk away — around the best man and onward. Except the best man follows in strides? Casting a suspicious glance at the other man, he tucks his bangs behind his ear. He felt obligated to say something? Oh, now he's stepping out of line.
Vil's determined to get going. However, his pace starts to slow almost immediately when the rehearsal is mentioned. "What? What do you mean ..." On his own? Is he not the best man? Now, Vil's taking a second to actually look this guy over. Only now noticing the slight differences. The best man he met earlier did indeed have a different aura; Wild and loud. Cocky. Unkept. His eyes were different from the one standing before him. The dark streak of hair, as well. This man was more ... tame, in comparison. Rather, well-mannered. He was more put together, that much was obvious. And kinder. Much kinder eyes. Then the outfit, obviously — what Vil had mistook as a remarkably quick costume change was actually not the case, at all.
He was feeling stupid again. This isn't how he runs his life but this whole day was proving to be backwards for him. Of course, how that he's getting a closer look — it's glaringly obvious. He could feel his shoulders burning, spreading the more embarrassed he became. "You're ..." The groom. Oh, he wanted the earth beneath him to open and swallow him whole, this was terrible.
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"...I apologize, I didn't realize—" At this point, Vil had stopped walking. He's taken a few steps back, away from the groom as if he's thinking of running. He wants so desperately to cover his face but he can't bring himself to. Not with the humiliation he's facing now. At least the groom was handsome. Beautiful, even. And ... patient. Seven's, almost too patient.
He's intelligent, as well. It's as though the groom had read his mind (or his body language) and suggested they both ran off. Suddenly, the idea sounds terrible. It's one thing when it was only Vil fleeing the scene but ... "We can't. They'll notice too quickly." Defeated, Vil's glancing back at the garden wall and scanning the area. Now what... "I don't think we... Again, I apologize. Deeply. Seven's this is..." He's a bit spontaneous for a groom. Very different from what Vil had in mind. "You don't—? I mean..." he didn't want to marry him, either? Vil was both relieved and ... mildly offended. No, he'd be more offended if it weren't for how this whole day was going!
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kromeihl · 2 years ago
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BSD MEN PLAYING HORROR GAMES (MIMIC)
Headcanons!
↣Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Nakajima Atsushi, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Doppo Kunikida, Edogawa Ranpo, Nikolai Gogol, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Tetcho Suehiro, Saigiku Jono
↝Requests are open!
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Osamu Dazai
> He would definetly be confident. You'd go up to him and be like: 'Samu let's play Mimic!
> He never heard of that game but he's hella interested.
> Both of you started playing and then he gets lost the moment you appear.
> Don't tell me this guy does not kill himself everytime.
> Definetly screams when there are jumpscares and would freeze for a second so you laugh at him
> Surprisingly good at the game and finishes it. (When he doesn't waste half of his time dying.)
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Chuuya Nakahara
> Horror game? LET'S GO!
> Regrets it instantly because he forgot there are jumpscares.
> Would definetly flinch so hard and say "What? I'm not scared."
> When you scream, he screams.
> He'd be the type to disappear and get lost and you're just looking for him everywhere.
> He'd be the type to see something and say "I found the exit!" And it was actually the entrance..
> He'd curse at the character that'll jumpscare him.
> Shhh, he's a rage quiter.
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Atsushi Nakajima
> MY BABYYYYY<3
> Once you tell him you want to play a horror game with him, he'd instantly freeze and hesitate before accepting.
> It's you, of course he'd agree.
> Poor guy would be shaking once there are crazy ahh sound effects.
> Horrified, one loud sound, one scream, one jumpscare, he'd flinch immediately.
> Bros the type to throw his phone/himself across the room.
> Actually really good at mazes! Just starts panicking when something chases him HELP.
> Never will play again.
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Ryuunosuke Akutagawa
> Bro thinks he's so good at it.
> You tell him you want to play and he just says "ok."
> Bro is secretly scared but the whole time you look at him he's just •_•
> Those jumpscares out of nowhere makes his eyes widen or he makes a small little sound and when you look at him he accidentally actives Rashomon-
> I feel like he'd say he knows the way and gets lost and get jumpscared.
> Bro doesn't run and you just tell him to use the running button, and he's just like "no."
> Bro wants to solo and leaves you alone and you're like: "Ryuu where are you??" "I found a spirit."
> Doesn't want to play ever again.
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Kunikida Doppo
> Automatically will not play once you do all your reports.
> Says he's too busy for those childhood games but he can't resist you so he fits the gameplay in his schedule!
> Does this dude even get jumpscared..?
> The whole time he's just instructing you in what to do-
> He's good at making ways to escape and distracts the ghost for you.
> If you play with him repeatedly and have game nights he'd definetly memorize when the jumpscare will happen.
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Ranpo Edogawa
> Bro...Once you ask him you already see the place set up for your gameplay.
> One word: You'll finish the game in a few minutes only.
> He knows every crook and crany around the game.
> Knows the whole backstory and tells you about it so you just shut him up with candy.
> You play by yourself now because he knows everything and spoils the fun. RIP..
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Nikolai Gogol
> He'd definetly be interested in the game.
> He'll be the type to scare you if it's suddenly quiet and you slap the shit out of him on accident.
> Would throw the phone at your face when he gets jumpscared.
> Bro is the type to play hide and seek with you mid-game.
> He'd definetly die a ton of times while trying to show you how he can "dodge" the ghost's attack/running at him.
> He fails misreably..
> He'd be the type to have the ghost chase after him and go to you so you both end up dying and go back to square 1.
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Fyodor Dostoyevsky
> You force him to play because he has no comment about it all.
> Jumpscares happen and he's just, •_•
> He'd be the type to find everything in just a few minutes and you'd be so confused like ???
> You'd give him the side eye for being to quiet while playing the game. You're screaming and flinching meanwhile he passes everything so quickly.
> He'd be the type to let you follow.
> Like did he play this game before???
> If you're too scared to go through a maze or get something, he'd be the one to distract the enemy
> Scary smart man...
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Tetcho Suehiro
> Bro is hella confused. Like what are you supposed to do in the horror game??
> He'd definetly scream and just stare at you for a few moments..
> Help this poor man, he'd definetly quit mid game and just let you play it by yourself while you're watching.
> You'd definetly scream and it'll make him alerted.
> You both decide to restart the game and he thinks that he can kill the ghost and eventually dies..
> Please teach him the basic of horror games.
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Jono Saigiku
> So like...
> Okay but he can hear things well so he eventually just listens to you while you play.
> Don't hurt his ear drums you might hit ariana grande notes while getting jumpscared or chased.
> He'd be the type to know when the ghost is approaching and warn you, he has good sense of hearing of course.
> That's why you're like ??? "How did you know when the ghost will come :O"
> He can literally hear one milisecond of the starting of the chasing music and you'd already be hiding.
> Man is a life saver.
> He'd definetly stare at you like ^^ if you apologize for screaming.
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unfriedough · 1 year ago
Note
Hi super sorry if your request aren’t open.
I had this thought about Zuko x waterbending reader and maybe they could be related to Hama (like a grandma or something) and r basically it’s difficult to explain but Zuko and reader started dating after the war and he tries really hard to get Hamas approval because he’s from the fire nation and Hama ends up sorta accepting him but is still hella weary about him
‘Dinner’- Zuko x female!reader
An: HIYA! So as to not be annoying I’m leaving my lil disappearance explanation at the bottom, enjoy 🫶
(As usual, thank you for your request and patience it means a lot 💕)
Warnings: fighting/agression but it’s brief dw (this is also a very short piece)
You smiled as a candle flickered in your room, kicking your feet as you read a letter your boyfriend, Zuko, wrote to you. He detailed in it his most recent endeavours as a fire lord, as well as affirmed that he could in fact come for a visit. You had been planning to move to his palace soon, as per his request, but he was afraid your grandmother, Hama, a ruthless fire nation hating blood bender who might just hate Zuko, would not be on board. You decided the easiest way was to have them both over for food, and you’d prepared a huge feast of different delicacies of both nations. Zuko was meant to arrive in about an hour, and Hama was already down stairs washing up. She vaguely knew you were going to introduce her to someone, just not entirely aware of who. You shoved the scroll into another backpack you packed for your move, which was supposed to take place a week from now if all goes well.
You walked over to the window sill and sat on a cushion you placed on the protruding wooden part, sighing. You wandered in an endless maze of thoughts, until a face appeared in front of you. You squeaked, almost falling backwards but you caught yourself. Shaking your head, you unlocked the window and pulled zuko in.
“Dude?” You questioned, pulling him in for a hug.
He smelled like the sea, you noted, originally expecting the smell of a certain beast on him.
“Sorry- I got nervous,” you giggled, pinching his pouty cheeks.
He grinned, dipping you into a passionate kiss that screamed ‘I miss you’ in every language. His hand trailed to your back, and yours his hair. Just as things began to escalate, the door swung open.
“YN!”
Immediately, you pushed him away, and he stumbled backwards. Both your eyes landed on your grandma, who was as pale as a ghost.
“I can explain!”
“What kind of nonsense is this?”
Zuko was frozen, from the long list of things that could've gone wrong, this did not even make the top one hundred list.
“Grandma, this is Zuko,” you calmed down, “My boyfriend,”
He snapped out of his trance and extended an arm to shake with her. She walked out, leaving a small stone to prevent the door from closing again.
“Sorry about her,” you groaned, embarrassed that she left him hanging.
He retreated his arm, shoving it into his pocket, “She already thinks I suck. It’s over.”
“It’s okay she’s easy to win over,” you smiled sweetly, contrasting the lies that currently fled your lips.
Stiff, awkward, weird… all of the above.
You couldn’t relax for this dinner, things were so tense after what just happened. He didn’t even get to say hello before she saw his tongue down your throat and now she probably is a hair away from blood bending him into a ball. And he could tell she hated him- when he asked you to pass him a spoon she threw it at him. She missed…
“So, why don’t you tell her about yourself Zuko,” you broke the silence.
His eyes widened, suddenly being put on the spot, “Well I-uh-um-“ he coughed.
“He helped the avatar end a hundred year war,” you chimed in.
“Yeah so he can start a 200 year war all on his own,” she remarked, glaring at him. “All fire folks are the same,”
“Gram, give him a chance, he’s trying his best,” you held his hand over the table, rubbing your thumb in comforting circles.
Suddenly, a fork came hurling at you, and when you both dodged your hands away, you found it embedded in the table.
“Right…” you breathed out.
She stood up abruptly, folding her arms, “Yn, come outside, now,”
“Yes ma’am,” you replied, looking back at Zuko with a worried expression.
You shut the creaky wooden door behind you and adjusted your garments as you stood by here on the patio.
“A fire nation boy?”
“He’s different… he’s not what you think he is,”
“That’s what they all say Yn, he’s bad news.”
“What about him is bad news?”
“Everything. Especially the fact that he’s a ticking time bomb.”
“He’s a good man.”
“Are you forgetting his past? He attacked the avatar!” Your eyes widened, “That’s right, I did my research… I know every little thing he did and so help me if you dare leave this house with him I will make sure that’s the last time either of you see each other.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Who’s gonna stop me?”
Your eyes brimmed with tears- it was one thing to ban you from seeing him, but a completely other thing to treat you like a child. You were old enough to make these decisions on your own. You huffed, storming back inside and waltzing into your bedroom, slamming the door with a lot of force.
Hama sat back down at the table, smiling before she flipped it onto Zuko. He gasped, standing up quickly to avoid being crushed. She stomped around the table and got up in his face, grabbing the collar of his shirt. She was surprisingly strong for her ancient age.
“What do you want from her?”
“To be with her,”
“Why?”
“Because I love her,”
“WHY?”
“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?”
She pushed him onto the ground, lifting her arm as if about to bloodbend him. He’d heard the tales of what she was capable of from his friends, and he felt his heart drop.
Zuko froze, waiting, shielding himself and closing his eyes.
“Aren’t you gonna firebend?” She asked, a bitter sounding tone.
“No.”
Just then, you exited your room, finally having collected your bearings. There, you found Zuko almost curled up on himself, and Hama glaring at him. He breathed heavily, and she looked as if a blood vessel was about to pop. You immediately rushed to his side, helping him up to his feet and checking him for wounds. He was fine of course.
Your hand brushed against his cheek and he closed his eyes, humming, “I’m fine,”
“What did you do?” You yelled, looking at the old lady.
“I tested him.”
You laughed sarcastically, “And did he pass,”
“With flying colours,” 2 out of 3 pairs of eyebrows flew upwards, you and Zuko exchanged glances. “For now,”
After a bit of cleaning up, you finished the night with Zuko in your bedroom, sitting at your desk.
“Is everything okay?” You asked, leaning against the table.
“If she doesn’t even want me near you, how on Earth are you going to move in with me?”
“That’s… that’s a great question.”
An: OKAY SO idek where to start I basically obv got back to school and I had exams and then even MORE EXAMS coming up (send help) BUUUT I mainly just lost my spark and interest in writing but it feels wrong to continue to ignore my inbox so I’m gonna try my best to clear it soon. If you have requested I’m genuinely so so sorry it’s taken this long I’m sure you’re mad at me but hopefully not too mad don’t hate me okay bye love you 🩷
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ateezscupid · 18 days ago
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hii! can u write a gally x reader where they’re already in a relationship & reader gets hella flustered whenever he has that rebellion gas mask on, he knows it and purposefully teases them.. thank you! :)
𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲. ☆
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warnings ✩ FLUFF!! Short but sweet, gender neutral reader this is after the gladers make it to the last city, reader and gally are dating (implied they've been dating since the glade) so reader is replacing teresa, reader basically has a mask kink
tags ✩ @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @skzkias
MAZE RUNNER MASTERLIST / REQUEST
In the early morning light, dew clung to the grass like a thousand tiny crystals. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth. You stepped outside the homestead, savoring the quiet solitude before the day's activities began. The sun had not yet fully risen, but the sky was a canvas of soft pastels that promised a beautiful day ahead. You stretched, feeling the tension from the previous day's...activities with Gally.
Gally emerged from the nearby barracks, the iconic rebellion gas mask hanging around his neck. He noticed you immediately and his eyes crinkled into a knowing smile. You couldn't help but feel your cheeks warm up at the sight of him. It had become a sort of game between you two, ever since you had accidentally admitted that the mask had an oddly alluring effect on you.
"Morning, sunshine," he greeted, his voice teasing. He knew exactly what was going to happen next. He reached up and slowly pulled the mask over his head, the leather strap creaking as he tightened it. The mask was a stark reminder of the battles he had fought, the lives he had saved, and the world that had shaped him into the leader he was today.
You watched, your heart racing, as he took a deep breath, the mask molding to his face. His eyes searched yours, and you knew he was waiting for your reaction. "What? Why do you always act weird when I have my mask on?" he asked, his voice muffled yet still full of mischief. You bit your lower lip, trying to maintain composure, but it was a futile effort. The way the mask framed his face, highlighting his strong jaw and piercing gaze, had always sent your thoughts spiraling into a whirlwind of confusion and attraction.
"It's just…it's different, that's all," you murmured, hoping he wouldn't press the issue further. But Gally wasn't one to let things go easily. He stepped closer, the early morning shadow playing across his features.
"Different how?" His proximity made it even harder to think straight. You stuttered, trying to find the right words, but they eluded you.
"It's like…you look more," you pause, squinting your eyes and looking for the words. "Hot." you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.
A chuckle rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your own as he stepped closer, the mask seemingly amplifying his presence. "Hot, huh?" His eyes danced with amusement, and you could feel the heat from his body. "Is that what gets you blushing like that?"
You nodded, unable to find the words to explain the tumult of emotions that the mask brought out in you. The way it made him seem both more dangerous and more vulnerable at the same time was an intoxicating paradox. He leaned in, the cool metal of the mask brushing against your cheek as he whispered, "You wanna see what other secrets it holds?"
Gripping the edges of the mask, he slowly lifted it off, revealing his smirking face. The moment the mask was removed, it was as if a weight had been lifted from the atmosphere. The tension between you dissipated like morning fog, leaving behind only the warmth of his smile and the closeness of his body.
"Gally, you're such an asshole," you said, trying to lighten the mood with a playful punch to his shoulder. But the impact was lost as your knuckles connected with the hard material of the gear. He just grinned wider, clearly enjoying your flustered state.
"Maybe," he conceded, setting the mask aside. "But you love it."
Your eyes narrowed playfully. "Do not."
"You don't?" He stepped closer, his arms encircling your waist. "I've seen that look before. It was on your face when you first met me."
You felt a blush spreading across your cheeks, but this time, it was from his touch rather than his teasing. "You're just full of yourself."
He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. "Is that a no, then?"
You pushed him away gently, trying to regain your composure. "It's not funny, Gally."
"I know it's not," he said, his voice dropping serious. He reached up to stroke your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "You don't like when I talk about how you blush when we-"
You hit him, understanding what he meant. "We're in public!" You exclaimed, trying to pull away, but his grip was firm and warm, anchoring you to the spot. The early morning light cast a soft glow on his face, making him look less like a warrior and more like the boy you had grown to love amidst the chaos of the Glade.
Gally's eyes searched yours, the playfulness replaced with a gentle concern. "You're right," he said, his voice sincere. He leaned in closer, his forehead touching yours. "But I can't help it. You're just so…cute when you're embarrassed."
You felt your heart race even more at his words, your palms growing sweaty. You didn't know how to respond, so you just leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. The moment was intimate, a brief respite from the harsh realities of their world
"Don't you have a meeting to get to?" you mumble into his chest.
Gally's grip tightens for a brief moment before he sighs and nods. "Yeah," he says, pulling back slightly. "But I'll make it quick. For you." He winks, the action making you roll your eyes even as you can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth.
He releases you, the loss of warmth leaving you feeling slightly cold. You watch as he walks away, the mask swinging from his hand.
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muaka-safari · 1 year ago
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"He decided that he never again wanted to be anything but himself"
Greg with the Hordika arc lined up:
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……and then he didn’t
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justmeinadaze · 2 years ago
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Take It Out On Me Part 9 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)
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A/N: Idk where this came from but it hella flowed from my angsty brain. Enjoy :) There is a phone conversation in this one. Steve's will be in red.
Warnings: Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie and all that implies (I regret nothing!), Smut, angst, with a dash of fluff, degrading and spanking, reader gets hurt and ends up going to the ER (not because of anything they did! They would never hurt her like that.) Injury is mentioned in detail (bleeding and stitches), I think that's all.
Word Count: 5792
“Hey Maze.”
Your best friend grins at Steve and Eddie as they sit beside her on the bleachers in the rival school gym. The girls Hawkins basketball team had made it to finals and unbeknown to you the boys had made it a priority to be there especially Eddie who postponed Corroded Coffins band practice to come watch you. 
It had taken some time but Masie eventually grew fond of both boys even coming out with you guys to the movies or dinner at the diner in town. After the game began, she couldn’t help but laugh when the metalhead would clap when everyone else did with a vacant expression in his eyes. 
“Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
“No. I just know Y/N is playing and the ball goes in the hoop.”
“Eh. That’s enough.”, Steve grinned as he nudged his friend with his shoulder. 
Hawkins was ahead in score and after every quarter the opposing team seemed to get more and more aggressive. One of the girls seemed to always be on you the same way Billy had with Steve. 
“I’m going to murder this girl if she touches her again.”, Masie growled.
It happened so fast even you barely had time to register it. One minute you were running up the court, the next an elbow was colliding with your face, knocking you hard to the ground. When you didn’t get back up before a whistle even blew Eddie and Steve were on the court. 
The sound of sneakers skidded to your side. “Y/N?! Honey, I need you to look at me, ok?”, Steve lifted your head as Eddie slid his jacket behind it. Your coach knelt beside him as she spoke on the phone with emergency services. “Y/N! Come on, babe.”
“…Fuck me, that hurt…” You try to reach for your head but your limbs feel heavy. 
“No, hey, no. Don’t move, ok? How are you feeling?”
“Heavy…but that could be because I am.” They laugh as you flash them a tiny smile.
“Well, at least your making jokes.” Steve’s eyes meet Eddie’s as he brushes your hair back to expose where you were bleeding. Your head turned slightly towards Masie who was kneeling by your side as your eyes began to tear up. 
“I’m scared.”
The guys hated this. They had never felt so helpless and it was killing them. 
EMS arrived and started treating you before pulling you onto the stretcher. 
“Sweetheart, we’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?!”, Eddie called after you as they began wheeling you away. 
################
You grinned as all three of them walked into your room while the nurse was putting a bandage over the stitches near your temple. 
“If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll kill you.” Masie practically pushed the lady out of her way as she hugged you. 
“Oh, look at that. She’s definitely on some good drugs.”, Eddie grins. 
“Yeah, seven stitches and a lot of morphine later.”, the nurse giggled. “She’s going to be feeling it tomorrow though.” She collected her mess, exiting the room, and Masie followed her out saying she had to find a phone to call her parents letting them know she would be late coming home. 
Eddie came up to your side, gently gripping your cheeks as he kissed your forehead. It was honestly the softest thing you had ever experienced with him, making you want to collapse into his chest.
“Are you okay?”
“I…can’t really feel anything…but I think so.”, you smile. 
Steve’s hand slides into your own. “You did good out there tonight. So good in fact that bitch had to take you out completely.” He grinned as you lazily laughed. “Is this a pattern for you? Bleeding and getting into fights.”, he teased. 
“Oh yeah. On graduation, I’ll get my “fuck bitches up” girl scout badge.”, you slurred as the medicine really began kicking in. “Thank you both…for being here.”
Eddie ran his hand through your hair behind your head right as the hospital door flew open again. 
“Sweetheart! Are you okay?!” 
Eddie and Steve immediately pulled back as your mom came in and tugged you into her arms. 
“Yeah, mama. I’m fine—”
“What happened?!”
“Why are you two here?”, you dad asks sizing up the boys with his eyes. 
“We’re, um, her friends.”
“No. Masie is her friend. She’s never mentioned you especially you.”, he points at Eddie. 
“Dad, please… they are my friends.”
“Hm. We’ll talk about that when you are feeling better. You two can leave now.”
The metalhead’s fists clenched in defiance at the way your dad commanded him. Even worse, you were hurt and they didn’t want to leave you, making them feel helpless all over again. 
“Come on, Ed. Let’s…let’s head back. Y/N, call us later, okay?”
You nodded as you watched them hesitate, dragging their feet as they finally leave. 
“Shit. You guys are in for it now. Her parents are about to make this a lot harder for you.” Masie smiled at them with empathy before entering the room as they left.
###################
Masie wasn’t joking around with her statement. They tried to call you but they were always met with a busy signal. You missed the next few days of school and your friend said that your parents kept checking in on you at night so they couldn’t sneak in again. 
It had been three days since they had seen your face or heard your voice and their anger began to leak through in their every day. Steve got in trouble for snapping at one of his teachers and Eddie tried to clear his mind with a new D & D campaign but he couldn’t focus long enough to get anything together. 
At 2am on a school night, the metalhead found himself glaring into the void, cigarette loosely hanging from his lips as he strummed his guitar when his phone ringing jostled him back to reality.
“Yeah, what.”, he answered angrily. 
“Eddie?”
“Baby? Hey, hey.” He moved his instrument to the side as he removed the cigarette and balanced it in a nearby ashtray. “Hey. Are you okay?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m fine. Am I bothering you?”
“No, sweetheart, you’re never bothering me. Do you want me to get, Steve?” He quickly puts you on hold as he dials the man’s number.
“Yeah?”, he grumbles sleepily. 
Without saying a word, Eddie pulls him through. “He’s here, Y/N.”
“Daddy?”
Steve’s eyes shot open at the sound of your little voice. “Honey? Jesus fucking Christ, it’s good to hear your voice. Are you alright?”
“I’m so sorry for disappearing. My parents were worried because I got hurt and then quizzed me about you both. My dad saw you both touching me in the hospital and he pitched a fit. He said I wasn’t allowed to talk to you guys. This is the first time in the last few days I haven’t had them looming over me.”
“We can worry about all that later. What matters to us is how your head is.”
“It still hurts but not as bad as that first morning. It was awful. I…I just wanted you two to hold me and tell me everything would be ok…”
“Hey, hey now, baby girl. Everything IS ok. When are you coming back to school?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. I have an appointment with the doctor in the morning so I should be back by lunch.” Your sniffles filled their receivers. “Are you two alright? I heard Daddy got in trouble.”
“Yeah, Steve got feisty with one of his teachers.”, Eddie chuckled. 
“I don’t like feeling out of control…”, Steve exhaled heavily. 
 “We were just worried about you, princess. It’s our job to take care of you.” You’re end suddenly disconnected and with that you were gone again. “Ugh! Fuck this bullshit.”, Eddie growled as he picked up his cigarette again.
“Thanks for calling me, Munson. Fuck, I can’t wait for tomorrow. I need to see her face.”
#############
Steve leans against one of the poles outside while Eddie paces during their lunch period in the front parking lot as they wait for you. 
“Where the hell is she?”
Steve shrugs, checking his watch for the millionth time. 
“God damnit! I fucking hate this!”
“Eddie, relax, dude.”
“Don’t tell me to relax, Harrington. I know you feel the same way. I fucking hate this helpless feeling. This is WORSE than when she was in New York. At least then we knew she would call us to tell us she was ok. Now when she actually fucking needs us, there’s nothing we can do?!”
“Eddie?” Their heads whip around to the sound of your voice. “What’s wrong? Why are you both out here?”
For over three days, this is what the metalhead had been waiting for, you in front of him, but seeing you now had him frozen in place. You had a different type of bandage covering your wound than the last time they saw you at the hospital. Your eye just below it was a light shade of purple as it slowly began fading. 
The mixture of feelings coursing through your own body had you stuck as well. You noticed it before they turned around; the erratic energy surrounding them as they waited. You felt it to; the helplessness of not being able to even call them and hear them comfort you. While you rested you often thought about how they behaved at the gym to the hospital. Steve’s panicked tone as he held you commanding you to keep your eyes open. The fear in Eddie’s eyes and the gentle touches when he brushed your hair back as you spoke to them. 
You also couldn’t help but be a little self-conscious of the injury itself. It looked (and felt) a lot worse those first couple of days to the point where even blinking had you wincing. It was beginning to heal though and the doctor said soon they would be able to take out the stitches. You had so many other unorthodox questions you wanted to ask but didn’t know how. For example, with the current state of your injury, could you still be held down and fucked senseless by two handsome men? 
Seeing them now you kind of wish you had because not only did they seem like they had things they needed to release but you desperately wanted them to because you needed it to. You needed them to take out the frustration of the last few days on you because you needed to let it go as well. 
Eddie’s palm ran through your hair down to the side of your cheek. “I-I didn’t realize she hit you that hard. Are you—does it—”
“Not as bad, no. I didn’t either but they are taking the stitches out Friday and he said I can even start playing again by next week. Not much point now…the season is pretty much over.”, you chuckle. “Why are you guys out here? I was sitting with Masie waiting for you.”
“You said you’d be back by lunch so we were waiting for you to park. We… oh fuck this.” Steve’s hand shot to grab the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his. His kisses couldn’t be described any other way besides hungry. When he pulled away, he placed his forehead on yours careful not to hurt you. “We don’t like feeling out of control…”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I tried, I swear, but—”
“No. You were bleeding in our arms. You were scared and there was nothing we could do about it in that moment. Then you were all alone… we couldn’t get to you…”
Eddie tugged lightly on your arm and you fell into his chest. “We felt helpless… It’s nothing you did. I just keep thinking about you in the hospital with those big, sad eyes and we left you.”
“No, hey, no.” You lean back looking up at him. “You didn’t leave me by choice. I know that.” Following Steve’s lead, you reach for his chin and tilt his lips to yours.
The sound of the bell forces you both apart. “I’m not sure if it’s my head or what but that sound is way more fucking grating.” You grin as they laugh, the beautiful noise shooting straight to your heart. 
###############
The rest of the week was a different kind of hell. Everyone kept staring at your face as you walked by, some even asking for the gory details. Masie being the ever-present best friend made sure to shoo them as far away as she could before looping her arm in yours and walking you to class. 
It was wonderful being able to see the guys again but your parents were still hovering over you not even allowing you to go to Masie’s house after school if you asked. Eddie and Steve started behaving a bit differently as well. Friday you finally got your stitches out and by that following Monday you were feeling a lot better. The cut was still visible of course but the bruising and swelling had subsided greatly. 
Even though you couldn’t go to their house, you at least expected them to utilize the time at school like they had previously but they didn’t. It was almost like they were afraid to touch you. 
“Mom, please. I need to get out of the house! I’m much better, let me hang out with Masie.”
Your parents glanced at each other from their place on the couch. “Just Masie?”
“Of course—”
“You know I don’t want you hanging out with that freaky Munson kid or the Harrington boy especially if they are associated.”
“I know, dad.” You tried to hold in your growl as he insulted them. 
“Fine. Are you going to spend the night?”
They nodded when you asked if you could and you excitedly ran to your car as you headed for Eddie’s trailer.
################
“Hello there.” A tall, older man opened the door for you gesturing for you to come in. “I assume you’re here for Eddie. He’s…” The metalhead came into view when he saw you from his room. “…right there. I’m Wayne, his uncle. Are you Y/N?”
“Hi, I am. It’s nice to finally meet you.”, you beam. 
“Likewise. I’ve heard some great things about you.” He grins down at you before turning to collect some things from the couch and tugging on his hat. “Alright, Ed. I’m off to work. Don’t burn anything down.”
“Yeah, yeah.”, Eddie waves after him nonchalantly. “I see the wardens set you free.”
“They did. I thought the three of us could spend some time together.” You coyly run your hand down his shirted chest as you smile. To your dismay, he lightly grabs your wrists and places it on your side. 
“That sounds like fun. Steve is on his way right now, actually. We were going to smoke and listen to some music.”
“Oh…um…ok. I’m not intruding or anything, am I?”
“No, sweetheart, no. Go sit on my bed and I’ll be right there.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He paused then, glancing to the floor before flashing you a half-hearted smile. 
Did…Did I do something wrong? Why he is being like this? Maybe Steve will help.
After doing what he suggested, you looked out to his bedroom window to see the boy smoking on his front steps. A few moments go by before a BMW slowly pulls up to the trailer. His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he sees your car and they both have what seems like a heated conversation. Eddie tosses the cigarette in the dirt, dusting off his shorts before they come inside. 
“Hey, honey. Nice to see you out of your prison.”
You softly smile as you rise to hug him but something’s off. Steve usually wraps his arms tightly around you, pressing your head to this chest as you inhale him. This time his arms encircled you for all of five seconds before letting you go. 
“Are you both mad at me?”
“No, baby. Why would we be mad at you?”, Eddie asks as he sits on the floor and reaches for his black tin lunch box. 
“You’re just acting weird… less…like you were before.”
“I have no idea what that means.”, Steve chuckles. As he sits at the end of the bed, you notice his shoulders tense. Neither of them seemed relaxed at all. 
“Oh? You have no idea? Hm. That’s cool. Maybe Billy Hargrove may know.” You gaze shifts between them, gauging their reaction hoping to get any at all that wasn’t whatever they were displaying now. Eddie froze as Steve’s breathing became a bit more erratic but neither responded to you verbally. “Really? Nothing to say? Misters I-take-what-I-want and call-me-by-my-titles have absolutely nothing to say to me?!”
Eddie moved everything to the side as he listened to you speak. Steve still hadn’t really looked at you so you took it upon yourself, reaching for his chin and turning him to face you. His hand roughly reached for your wrist but instead of acting on your action…he let you go.
“Wow.”, you huffed. “Never thought I’d see the day when the freak and the king became bitches yet here we are. What was it, hm? Is it because I made you guys feel something other than lust? Or are you just afraid to live up to your names because I got hurt. I assure you both I just cracked my head open yet I have more fire than either of you this past week!”
You shook your head, rising to your feet and heading towards the front door. A hand abruptly grabbed your arm and spun you back towards the hallway. “Go.”, Eddie pointed towards his bedroom. “NOW!” He shouted into your face causing you to jump as you turned and quickly did as he asked. 
He brought a chair from the living room and placed it in the middle of his bedroom. “Sit.”
As you took your seat, he sat across from you beside Steve whose eyes were clouded over with rage. 
“I always love when you get angry like you just did. It really gives me insight into how you see us and this relationship.” Eddie’s tone was light but his tense body language betrayed him as he lit a cigarette. “We feel things for you other than lust every fucking day but the helplessness was new. This kind of helpless anyway. The kind that makes you want to do whatever you have to…to make sure the person you care about is ok.”
“But I guess that was all for nothing since we don’t care about you. We just want to fuck you. It’s just Daddy, Sir, and Baby, right?”, Steve glared at you. “It’s just titles, sex, and money… Even if that’s the case, we still wouldn’t have played with you because you were hurt.”, he snickers before he continues. “Can’t really play with a toy when it’s damaged.”
Your eyes start to water at his words but you fold your arms and regain your composure as you sit up straighter. You’re not going to show them your pain. 
“Hurts, doesn’t it? Being referred to like that.” Eddie takes a drag from his cigarette and blows smoke in your direction. “Imagine how it makes us feel when you constantly say things like that. That just because you belong to us all we’re capable of is having sexual feelings for you. That we don’t think about you every god damn day and wonder how you are.”
“If you’re alright…did she eat? Did she get enough sleep since stays up till 2am doing her homework? Are Tommy and Carol leaving her alone because she already has enough on her plate with things at home and school…”
“When is she going to spend the night again because my pillow doesn’t smell like her anymore? Why is the clock moving so fucking slow? I just want it to be lunch so I can hear her laugh across the lunchroom. Is it the end of the day so I can wrap my arms around her before we walk her to her car.”
You wiped the stray tear that escaped as they continued. 
“Those feelings were amplified by ten when we couldn’t reach you. I know she’s in pain but I can’t…hold her. I can’t tell her everything is okay. I can’t fucking kiss her and take care of her like we should.” Eddie squishes his cigarette and lights another. “I hope…I hope she doesn’t think that we’re fine without her.”
Steve glances at him as the boy looks down at the floor. “Because we weren’t… Y/N, when you didn’t get back up and you were struggling to even open your eyes… it scared the hell out of me; out of us.”
“Is that why you won’t touch me?”, you ask.
“Yes and no.”
“Guys…”
Eddie blows smoke in your direction again. “Yes because it scared us and no because… fuck it, Harrington. I don’t know how else to say it so I’m just going to. Sweetheart, we have a lot of fucking buildup of emotions from everything that happened and the feeling of not having control. We know that Miss I-like-to-be-used would allow us to release some of that energy but, baby, we…can’t promise we’d be gentle.”
“And with your injury we aren’t sure what you can handle… and we know that if we touch you we, we may never stop so…”
“Then don’t.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, their answer to your question turning you on. “Please… I need it just as bad as you do.”
They hear it to; the neediness in your tone pleading with them. Their cocks twitch in their pants as you squirm in your chair. 
“Maybe when you’ve fully healed, baby.”
“I’m fine, Daddy. I promise. The stitches are out and it doesn’t even hurt anymore. Please…”
“No.” Eddie didn’t say that with any kind of confidence so you knew you getting through.
Standing from your chair, you kicked off your jeans before taking a seat again making sure to leave your legs wide open. 
“But, Sir, I need you. I need you to make me cum.” Your fingers dip under the fabric of your underwear as you run them through your folds. 
“Seem like you’re doing just fine. I’m not sure what a couple of bitches like us could do, right Stevie?”
Steve was losing his resolve; he wasn’t as strong as Eddie. It had been a couple of weeks since he tasted you and all he wanted to do was bury his face between your legs. 
“I’m sorry for being rude to you. I just…it hurt me that you didn’t want to touch me.”
“Hey. It’s not that we didn’t want to—”
“I know, Sir. I know. You were looking out for me. Thank you for always being so good to me.” Your eyes met his as your fingers slide into your entrance. “Fuck… please. Your fingers are so much bigger than mine.”
His eyes narrowed in your direction. “Did you just interrupt me?”
A cocky grin spread across your face. “Yes, Sir, I did.”
Eddie snapped his fingers and motioned for you to stand in front of them. You did as you were told, shivering when his hands finally made contact with your skin as he lifted off your shirt and slid down your panties. 
“Kneel.”, he commands as he points towards the floor. 
They weren’t sure if you could tell but they were struggling so hard to keep their composure. Seeing you like this, on your knees in front of them as you looked up with those big, beautiful, needy eyes, was torture in it of itself. 
Steve’s palm reached out to touch your face as his thumb traced your lingering wound. Your check turned into his touch as you delicately kissed the pads of his fingers. 
“I’m ok, Daddy. I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you…to either of you.”
Eddie’s foot suddenly slid between your legs. “Why don’t you finish what you were doing, princess? Make yourself cum.”
You hesitated slightly, wrapping your arms around his calf as your started to grind your hips, whining when you couldn’t seem to get enough friction. 
“Need something bigger, pretty girl? I like we spoiled her, Stevie.” He chuckles as his hands grip your biceps pulling you onto the bed on top of him. You bit your bottom lip to stifle the moan as he took off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. “Up, up.” He called as he patted his tummy. 
Eddie quirked his eyebrow as if to say you can continue and a whimper left your chest as you slowly began grinding your pussy against him. He grinned as he placed his arms behind his head, watching you. 
“Harrington, you should really come up here. The view is quite nice.”
“I don’t mind what I’m seeing back here.” Steve’s palm lightly came down on your ass eliciting a soft moan. You could tell he was testing the waters so you offered some encouragement of your own. 
“Jesus, Daddy. I like that.”
This time Eddie spanked you a bit harder. “Say it correctly.”
“I—mmm—I like Daddy spanking me.”
“Yeah, you do. I can feel you fucking dripping.”
Balancing on his chest, you rub your hips harder against him, his happy trail tickling you in the best possible way. The sound of the boy’s moan underneath you gave you pause as your eyes fluttered open and met his.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I…I’m not hurting you…right?” It takes Eddie a moment and a cursory glance towards his friend to realize what you mean. His palms grip either side of your face as he brings you closer to his own. 
“Grind.”, he commands. You hesitate before continuing, gripping his wrist for leverage. “Look at me, Y/N. Stop worrying about your body. You should be more concerned about this…”, his thumb glides over your forehead before coming down to caress your stomach. “…than this. You trust us, right?”
“Yes, Sir. I trust you and Daddy.”
He smiles as you correctly answer his question. “Good girl, princess. We know not only how to take care of you but ourselves. If I couldn’t handle a beautiful girl like you rubbing her pretty little pussy on top of me, I would never have put you in that position. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, Sir, I understand…fuck me.” Your body trembles above him as you cum, the hair on his stomach now coated with you. “Please…please, use me.”, you beg. “I know you both went through a lot these past few days. I did to. I missed you so much. Please…”
Eddie gestured for you to get off him, standing to remove his shorts and boxers. As you waited, a now naked Steve patted the mattress, signaling for you to lay down on your back next to him.
“Tap twice to get my attention, ok?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
His fingers smoothed your hair back as he sat up on his knees and pressed the tip of his mushroom head to your lips. “Open.” Steve placed his cock between your mouth, guiding it in and out with an obnoxious pop before fully settling in. 
The bed shook underneath you as Eddie placed himself between your legs, holding your thighs open for a good view as he spit into your cunt. After lifting your leg over his shoulder, he sheathed himself inside of your core, your eyes rolling back at the feeling. 
He wasn’t ruthless but he definitely wasn’t gentle as he jackhammered his hips into yours. Steve held the back of your head as he pumped into your mouth, biting his lips as both men pushed themselves deeper into you. 
“That’s it, babe. Taking me and Steve like the good fucking slut you are. Fuck, I missed this fucking pussy.” His thumb came down to play with your clit and you mewled as you jerked your head away from Steve. 
“Fuck! Yes, Sir. Please…”
“Yeah? Is that the spot, sweetheart?” 
The other boy wrapped his hand around your throat, lightly squeezing as Eddie slammed into you. Steve’s lips came down to meet yours as you panted against them as you came. The metalhead aggressively placed his hands on your ass, holding you as tightly to him as he could get before roughly thrusting his seed inside of you.
The boys head hung as he tried to catch his breath, his hair blocking his face from your view. His arm slowly rose, wrapping around your thigh as his palm rested on your mound. A tiny gasp left your lips as his thumb casually began flicking your clit again. 
“So sensitive…”, he grinned. “I bet I can make you cum again by just doing this without moving my cock.”
“It’s not hurting you?”, Steve chuckled making Eddie’s grin stretch further along his gorgeous face. 
“A little.” He licks his lips as his eyes remain on himself inside of you and his thumb moving against you. “But, again, Harrington, the view is worth it. F-fuck. She’s just fucking pulling me in.”
Eddie grunts as his face scrunches together, slowly pulling halfway out before your pussy tightens around him and he slides back in. Your eyes roll and close as he moves faster against you bundle of nerves, your hand blindly reaching for Steve’s cheek so you can feel his lips. 
His tongue sloppily glides along yours as his fingers delicately brush your hair away from your face. You pulled away, moaning as the sound of slick filled the room. 
“There you go, honey. Let go and just cum. Don’t think about anything else except the way Eddie feels touching you. God, baby girl, I can’t wait to be inside of you. After you cum on my cock I’m going to cum in this pretty mouth. Do you want that?”
“Y-yes, Daddy. Please.”
“God damn it…”, Eddie mewled, your cunt squeezing him like a vice as you cum. 
Steve kisses your forehead before he and the metalhead switch places. After lifting you up and leaning his back against the headboard, he positions you on top of him so you were facing away with your legs bent at the knee on either side of him. Unsure of what you should be doing, he guided you with his hands, raising your hips and bringing you down gradually on to his dick. 
“That’s my good girl. Fuck. L-lean forward, baby, and balance on your hands.”
You followed his instructions, pushing on to your hands and using them for leverage as you bounced your hips against his own. Eddie sat on his knees in front of you, his hands cupping your face as he kissed your lips.
“How does he feel, sweetheart?”
“Mmm—so good.”
“Yeah? Funny. I thought you said you had some aggression you wanted to get out to. Doesn’t seem like you’re fucking him that way.”
You whimper as you roll your waist, Steve’s hand coming down to smack your ass.
“Come on, Y/N. I know you can do better than that.”, Eddie coos.
“Fuck, yes, honey.” The other man grunts from behind as your lower half hits his as hard and fast as you can go. 
“I know, baby. I know.” Eddie tangles his fingers into your hair as he presses your face to his shoulder while Steve begins thrusting upwards to meet your actions with aggressive motions of his own. 
Crying out, your body shutters as you tumble of the edge.
“Good…good girl, babe. Shit…come…come put those beautiful lips…on my cock.”, he panted. 
His friend released his hold on you as you slid off his lap and adjusted yourself so you could take him in your mouth. Steve held you still as he pumped into until you felt his spend hit the back of your throat. You quickly bobbed your head, utilizing your tongue to grab every last drop you could before swallowing him down. 
You collapsed on to your back trying to catch your breath until a hand slid behind your head lifting it up till your lips touched glass. 
“Drink this, sweetheart.” As soon as the water hit your tastebuds, your hand reached for the cup and chugged the rest of its contents. “Good, baby. Let’s go take a shower really quick, ok?”
You nod as you allow him to take your hand and lead you to his bathroom before preparing the shower. Standing silently in your bliss, you allow him to clean you. 
Eddie is startled slightly when your arms wrap around him and you nuzzle into his chest. He smiles as he holds you to him. 
“I’m glad you’re okay. It’s been a while since I was…panicked like that. When we couldn’t be there for you, I felt like I failed you.”
“No, Sir. Please, don’t think like that. I know my parents made it harder with how they reacted. Maybe after we graduate, we can look for a place together. That way you know I’m safe.”
“You’d want that?”
You lean back, meeting his eyes. “Of course. I’m yours. I’d love to be able to see you guys every day. I mean, we can talk about it. You and Steve don’t have to say yes or no right now.”
#############
Eddie’s phone blares angerly on his bed side table making Steve cringe into your shoulder and pull you tighter to his chest. The metalhead groaned as the hand you had resting on his back slid off as he rolled over to stop the God awful noise from continuing. 
“Yeah?!...Hey Wayne…Yeah, she’s still here and Harrington to.”
He presses the phone to his chest and without opening his eyes, addresses you both. “My uncle is on his way home and wants to know if we want anything from the diner for breakfast.”
“He doesn’t have to do that.”, you answer groggily. 
“Yeah, Wayne. My girlfriend says she would like eggs and bacon with some coffee and we’ll have the same. Thanks, man.”
Eddie places the device back down and rolls over on his side facing you. 
“You said girlfriend…”
“Jesus H Christ.”, the boy sighs before opening his eyes to meet your glowing ones. “Do you not want to be?”
“No…I mean yes…I mean…”
Steve chuckles behind you. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
“Am I your girlfriend to?”
“I kinda thought that obvious with the speech we gave you last night.” 
Excitedly, you plant a kiss on each of them as they groan playfully. “Now, boyfriends, I think we should at least put clothes on before Eddie’s uncle comes home and asks some really awkward questions.”
############
@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch
@katethetank @danandphilequalsmemes @alienthings
@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @bexreastoomuch
@chelebelletx @shayeddie @emmalee-01 @anaibis
@wroteclassicaly @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes
@siriuslysmoking @raptorbait529 @miarosso
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youuuimeanmee · 9 months ago
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SxF Chapter 95 Thoughts
The drought is over.
And HOLY MOLY
AAAAAA I know we're nearing the end-semester gala but I never thought we'd get it on THIS chapter AAAADHJDJSKDN
When I saw the chapter is 21-pages long, I made sure to savor it well sskskjs
"Guardians will not be attending the gala." DAMMIT. Oh wait, Twillight can just disguise himself as a volunteer. I forgot.
Lol this is really not good for Damian's poor little heart.
WOHOO Becky cute!!
Huh, looks like Henry and Martha had a history together. Maybe they used to be classmates in Eden? Or something else, maybe.
The party is different than I expected. I thought ALL students will mingle in one place. I thought we'd meet Demetrius here. Oh well.
Damn this is depressing. Reassignation class based on academic performances. It's really happening. Anya will be separated from Becky. Hopefully their classroom will not be that far off 🥲
Damn Damian. Looking fine there, like a true young chaebol.
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ANYA IS CUTE!! She's a princess!! 😭💕 I was surprised with her hair, I thought she'd keep the haircones. It's almost like as long as the little bundle of her hair is protected, any hairstyle is fine. Her dress though... It's darker than I expected; I thought she'd go with light color. But this is fine too. She's cute either way. (lowkey reminds me of a little witch, lol). It's also cute how she and Damian looks matching with black-and-white outfits, hehe. (Then again, this is b&w manga. Will their outfits have different color in the colored illlustration?)
Nicee Ewen, you do know when to give credits when it's due.
Nah Damian you're just making up shit now. You have excellent eyes, you know her dress is not cheap.
Of course Damian would fo anything for any imperial-scholar related. Cute.
Now this is interesting.
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Some people say it's a reference to Harry Potter, so I wonder if some of it will turn out to be true. Especially the last two: "the cursed underground maze in section 4" and "the sealed chamber in the tower of wisdom." Sounds like hella suspicious places for a school filled with top political figures in the country. What if those are the places Donovan entered often? Hmmm. *sus glance* Wonder if DamiAnya gang will tackle the 7 mysteries like in Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun and see something they shouldn't see like in Promised Neverland, lol.
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Anya, you got this! It's the name you learned in the school's interview! She already forgot, lol. But at least she got the "Ben" right!
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Wonder if any of these kids will become Anya's new classmate, lol. Endo really used his break time brainstorming new characters here.
OMG IM DED. Narcis Hubrisse. Brayzen. These fucking fitting names I swear 🤣🤣🤣
Yesss you go Becky. Set your standard high. Don't mingle yourself with these lowly boys.
YAAASS. A GENTLEMAN ASKING ANYA OUT. YOU GO BOY. Even if it's a facade at least it's better than these Hubrisse and Brayzen boys.
OH.MY.GOD. FFFUUUUCKKK AJDNSKDBKDJDJSKHDUDJXNJDKDHDJJSJKSJSJSYEEEESSSSSS
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HE'S HEREE HE'S FUCKING HERE. His hairstyle is ugly but HE'S HERE. I was wondering if we're gonna meet him soon. I was righttt, he iss gonna be a recurring character. I mean look at the name reveal from chapter 93. Look at that damn edgy hair. Hopefully he will be Anya's new classmate. But I never thought he'd put an interest in her as a runner-up in the classical language test. What is his background? How is he so good with the classical languange to even reach 90-ish points even though it's rarely taught? Does he have a connection with Anya with his gift in classical language and weird hairstyle? Why does he have such unsettling bow tie? I need to knooww
And he even pull off such a strong reaction from Damian too, skskjsksk. 2nd ML candidate? Lmao
Good to know Arnold's family is B tier. Not bad.
Twillightt you got soft. Letting Anya and Damian do whatever they want? What happen to the mission?
Lowkey sad to see Anya trying hard because Twillight didn't trust she would do a good job in plan B.
Oh mah gahh these preciouss kiddss 😭True homiess 😭😭💕💕
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At least this will ensure Anya to get her place fair and square.
I wonder if Twillight realize Anya is approaching Damian for the sake of world peace she mentioned. Or he's simply motivated with Anya's motivation.
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But at this rate, the dance will be over the moment Damian got his partner, lmaoo
Great comeback chapter! 🔥🔥🔥
*Edit: Screw what I said that Arnold might be the 2nd ML. I don't trust his hairstyle, his droopy eyes, his bow tie, and his polite manners. So far we've seen only adorable children but he could be evil for all we know. Better be cautious than sorry.*
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ceaselesswatchersspecialboy · 3 months ago
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Very interested in your jon OIAR au, jon being let loose like celia is rn is good fun. It makes me feel a little worse for jon honestly tho in that he's kinda stuck in the same position we are, not knowing what the fuck is going on and in the middle of situations again. Not knowing what kinda consciousness your boyfriend even is rn is a hella lot I'm guessing. How do you think he'd react after episode 22's statement?
Crashing in! Hi! Hello!
It makes me so happy to see people interested so thank you so much!
He’s in a very interesting position where he often thinks he knows more than he does, believing he has an advantage when in reality he’s just as lost as the rest of them, albeit, maybe with a string to guide him through the maze.
I won’t go into too much detail regarding the episode 22 question, as I am currently in the midst of writing the first few ‘episodes’ transcript style, and I hope to post the first one eventually when I have maybe three or four done, but suffice to say that episode will not be great for him.
Pre-canon wise though, he had genuinely believed for a long time that Martin was just… dead, so hearing his voice coming from the computer for the first time was, well, Alice had to sit with him for a while, try to calm him down. He was in a really bad state, to the point he was allowed to go home early. He’s gotten better at managing it now, but there always a quiet grief whenever he hears Norris’ voice, I would say.
He does wonder sometimes, if some of the cases are simply meant to be messages for him ‘I miss you’ ‘I love you’, maybe. He isn’t always sure.
It sort of reverses their positions almost?
In MAG 200, Martin asks Jon how much of him is even left anymore, and now, Jon has to ask the same about Martin.
Thank you for the ask though! I’m always happy to talk about my AUs!
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moremaybank · 1 year ago
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YOUR EYES OPEN — j.m
day six childhood friends to lovers with jj maybank
pairing jj maybank x fem!reader
summary you and jj visit a fortune teller for a laugh at the first annual obx carnival, but her predictions end up coming true. (loosely inspired by all american 3x07)
warnings jj licking your fingers in a non-sexual way (lmao), pretty sure that's it. just hella fluff with bestie!jj
obx week ‘23 masterlist ;; jj masterlist
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“For a moment your eyes open and you know.” - Keane
You plucked a tuft of pink cotton candy from the cone in your hand. “Last piece. You want it?”
“Hell yeah. Give it to me.” JJ grabbed your wrist gently, bringing it toward his face so he could eat it. He goofily licked your fingertips to get rid of the stickiness, and your nose scrunched up in disgust. 
“Ew, J. You actually have no boundaries.” You wiped the residue of his saliva on his shirt.
“We’ve been best friends since we were nine. What boundaries do we have left?” 
Truthfully, you couldn’t argue with that. You and JJ had seen it all together. You’d been as vulnerable and open as two people could get with each other. You shouldn’t have been shocked by his…gross action. The man passed all kinds of gas around you twenty-four-seven. He’d eaten foods far past their expiry dates. You’d seen him drink spoiled milk on a dare (though you can’t say he wouldn’t have done it if he wasn’t dared to).
That’s not to say you two weren’t good for each other, because you undoubtedly were. JJ’s wild spirit helped you break out of your shell. He pushed you to try new things, push your boundaries, and make you see that you had all this untapped power inside you. You didn’t think he could surprise you any further, but he still managed to every day, even now in your twenties. 
On his side of things, your calming presence grounded him. It provided him with the safety and the domestic feeling he’d longed for while living his life with Luke Maybank as his father. No matter how chaotic things became, all he had to do was take one look at you, and his mind calmed. You, even as a child, gave him a comfort he never knew he needed until he had it in the palm of his hand. 
“I guess that’s true. You’re still gross though.” 
He winked at you with a cheeky grin. “You love it.”
The sun began to dip below the horizon, and the warm hues of pink, orange and yellow painted the sky as the two of you made your way through the colourful maze of booths and rides. Laughter and music filled the air, and your mouths watered at the sweet smells of funnel cakes and caramel apples. 
Your eyes wandered over all the activities surrounding you, and one specific booth caught your eye. You tugged on JJ’s arm. “J, look!” 
His eyes followed your pointed finger to a quaint, candlelit tent a little ways from where you both stood. He squinted, trying to focus on the large lettering of the sign above the booth. “Madame Zara’s Mystical Fortunes. Are you for real?” 
He couldn’t deny that it piqued his interest at least a little bit, but he also wasn’t sure about wasting ten bucks on words of ‘wisdom’ that you could easily get out of a fortune cookie. 
“Why not? It’s all in good fun anyway.”
“Y/N/N, I can give you a fortune right now for free. Watch this.” JJ stood, raising his index fingers to his temples and closing his eyes. His voice picked up a spooky tone. “I predict that we’re going to go on the tilt-a-whirl in the next thirty seconds.” 
His eyes open, and he points to the ride right next to you, clasping a hand over his heart with a shocked look on his face. “Oh my god, look! The tilt-a-whirl! I was right!”
You rolled your eyes at his mockery but still let out a laugh. “Come on. Do it for me?”
JJ looked into your pleading eyes and your jutted-out bottom lip, and felt himself starting to crack. He’d always had a soft spot for you. How could he deny your wishes when you looked at him like that? 
He let out a large sigh. “Fine. But we’re hitting the tilt-a-whirl as soon as we’re done. And I don’t want any complaints about how fast I spin us.” 
“Deal.” 
You stepped into the dimly lit tent, where an older woman with piercing eyes welcomed you. “Welcome, young ones. I sense that you seek answers.” 
You and JJ exchanged amused glances as you spoke. “Sure. Why not?”
She gestured for you to sit across from her at a small table, covered in a rich, purple velvet cloth. She took your right hand and JJ’s left, closing her eyes as her fingers traced invisible patterns on your palms. 
“There’s an abundance of energy between you two,” she began in a hushed tone. “This night you embark upon…it’ll offer you both clarity, unlocking secrets hidden in the depths of your hearts.” 
JJ laughed softly as a smirk took over his features. “Clarity, huh?” 
You kicked his leg under the table, trying not to laugh. Madame Zara continued, though, unfazed by your shared skepticism. 
“Remember, clarity often reveals truths you’ve chosen to ignore.” 
You thanked the fortune teller and exited the tent. “That was…something.”
“It was a load of bull,” JJ laughed. “I mean, clarity? Clarity about what?” 
“Who knows,” you replied. “Alright, we can go on your beloved tilt-a-whirl now.” JJ grinned at that, grabbing your hand and tugging you over to the ride. 
You two spent the evening going on every ride you could manage and indulging in all the sweets you came across. You’d be sick to your stomachs by the night’s end, but you couldn’t bring yourselves to care.
The night wore on, and you found yourselves atop the ferris wheel, overlooking the brightly lit carnival below you. The twinkling stars above you seemed to be in perfect alignment. JJ had grown eerily quiet, which was odd for him, seeing as he was always bouncing off the walls with an energy you couldn’t quite comprehend. 
You turned to look at him, planning to break the silence, when you caught his heated gaze. Your brows furrowed. “What’s that look for?” 
He licked his lips, turning his body toward you slightly. “Nothin’, I was just thinkin’ that psychic lady was right.” 
“Right about what?” You asked. All of a sudden, things had turned serious, which was rare for you two. Everything about your friendship was fun and lighthearted, but it didn’t feel that way anymore. At least, not at that moment. 
“About me needing clarity. Y/N, we’ve been best friends for so long. I mean, we’ve been through everything together. But sometimes…sometimes it feels like there’s somethin’ more. Somethin’ we both kinda deny.” 
Your eyes searched his for an understanding. “What are you saying, J?” 
“I think— Nah, I know. You’re my world. You make everything better, make everything brighter. I love you, pretty girl. I’m in love with you.” 
Your heart raced as you processed his words. Suddenly, the fortune teller’s prediction didn’t seem so foolish or ridiculous. In that moment, that same clarity JJ felt washed over you. The lightbulb switched on inside your head. You realized that you weren’t just in love with the idea of your friendship; you were in love with him. 
“I’m in love with you too, J,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hand found his, and your fingers intertwined. He smiled at you brighter than he ever had, and his eyes sparkled as the moonlight bounced off of them. 
“Can I kiss you now?” 
“You definitely should.”
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JJ TAG LIST (JOIN HERE!): @surftrips @oncasette @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @wildflwrdarlin @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @somerandos-world @peachpitlover @sya-skies @emmalandry @gillybear17 @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @madelynie @urbestieboo @abbybarnesstuff @lovelyxtom @camelliaflow3r @dirtytissuebox @runningfrom2am
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insideliascrazyhead · 11 months ago
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Oya High partying
Fujio:Total happy crier,will tell every guy in Oya he loves them,then tell Yasushi he looks like Nemo and he isn´t allowed to get lost or kidnapped cause he wants to touch the butt (of a boat)
cause he´s tiny and his skull can probably break waaay easier now
Tsukasa:Giggles.At every tiny thing.Get´s super clumsy and will wake up with bruises worse then the hangover
Jamuo:get´s braver and angry,mostly at Yasushi,will punch him and forget that to the next morning,when Tsukasa tells him that he is so scared he´s buying maze and a tazer
Todoroki:handles it great,at least so they think.He get´s super honest,no filter.Tells Shibaman and Tsuji they´re his best friends and he would kill and die for them.
Shibaman:ends up acidently mixing great cocktails,but the ones that make you vomit whenever you smell certain liquors,also get´s hella hungry while drunk and eat a ungodly combo on food.
Tsuji:has the worst most fun ideas,forgets to write them down first then starts writing them on Shibaman,also a cuddler
Yasushi and Kiyoshi:try to drink each other to death,angry make out session as Jamuo collects the cash of the bets he won about them amongst Oya´s fulltimers.When they dissapear no one searches them,they fear they´re gone to do the nasty and make a unlike friendship,come back probably covered in glitter and tamed a raccoon.Yasushi calls him killer and keeps him.
Nakaoka:films the others stupidety,has a great time,flirst with girls, vomits in the end though,
Nakagoshi:flirts successfully with the girls at the party,has a great time in general
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teecupangel · 2 years ago
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Just binge watched Lucifer on Netflix and now I present to you:
Desmond Miles survives 2012 (Desmond Miles Lives truthers, where ya at?), gets the hell outta dodge from the temple with new POE powers, and gets hired to work at Lux in LA. Meets his new boss and both of them are like, "!"
Lucifer instantly knows this boy is hella special because, damn does his soul reek of Isu Bullfuckery. (Headcanoned God and his Angels are sort of a rival interdimensional species to Isu, and God is the one who supposedly gave humans free will... idk I never paid attention to bible study anyway.)
Does the whole, "what do you desire?" schtick and Desmond, due to POE powers and Isu Bullshittery, wonders 'why the fuck is actual Satan here in LA?'
I imagine a platonic bromance relationship between these two. Y'know? 'Cause on the one hand we have the Reluctant Ruler of Hell and on the other hand the Reluctant Savior/Sacrificial Lamb of Humankind.
Lucifer could offer safety and protection from whoever Desmond is hiding from, while Des can be his bartender/bouncer/very much-needed BFF. And come on, I betcha good ole Lucy boy (and Maze) would absolutely enjoy dragging a couple a lot of Abstergo people Vidic down to Hell for multiple crimes against humanity(i.e. kidnapping and unethical human experimentation which results in mental instability.)
I’m all in for this idea. Desmond and Lucifer being bash brothers, yes please. Just imagine the chaos these two would get to because they're both morally dubious? XD
Also, just imagine how much faster Chloe would be finishing her cases with Desmond’s Eagle Vision? She would have two cheat codes with her this time.
Anyway, I’m going to focus on how we can integrate Lucifer into AC more in this one.
Before anything, just a sorta fun trivia: Lucifer has a little cameo in Crisis on Infinite Earths and he talks to John Constantine, implying they have some sort of history together. John Constantine is played by Matt Ryan who voiced and mocap’ed Edward Kenway XD
We will be keeping this contained to Lucifer though but you can totally add a John Constantine cameo and set it during the time Desmond is working in Lux (and you can totally add Desmond feeling some sort of longing and sorrow because John Constantine sounds and looks familiar to his Bleed of Haytham Kenway)
Alright, with that little trivia out of my system, let’s talk about how we can push Lucifer into AC canon.
(You might not have paid attention to bible study but my religion teacher was so boring he had to implement a rule that there should be no other notebook/books related to other subjects on our table during class because we kept doing other subjects when he’s lecturing us soooooo I was bored enough to read the bible he made us bring every class. I'm sure he'll be proud I'm using what I learned in his class for fic related things XD)
Let’s talk about God in Lucifer’s show. He’s obviously based on the Judeo-Christian God. Now, we have no confirmation if that said God does exist as an Isu in Assassin’s Creed BUT we do have a leeway we can use to make it easier to integrate the characters from Lucifer into Assassin’s Creed.
The Templar Order uses the phrase “May the Father of Understanding guide you”. Now, this is based on the Isu triad that pops up a bit.
The one we’re more familiar with is the Capitoline Triad where Tinia is known as the “Father of Understanding”.
However, there is an earlier iteration of this triad.
The Isus who created humans.
And the one to hold the title of ‘Father of Understanding’ during that time is Yaldabaoth.
From Wikipedia
Gnosticism presents a distinction between the highest, unknowable God, and the Demiurge, "creator" of the material universe.
Gnostic Christians considered the Hebrew God of the Old Testament as the evil, false god and creator of the material universe, and the Unknown God of the Gospel, the father of Jesus Christ and creator of the spiritual world, as the true, good God.
If we use the statements above and the fact that Yaldabaoth is considered one of the creators of mankind, we can set up God as another Isu scientist who had an alternate idea of a workforce but his idea was pushed aside and Yaldabaoth’s project with the other two Isu scientists moved forward.
God, in anger, created his ‘children’ together with the Goddess. And, to complete the triad, we’ll add Lilith as an Isu as well instead of Adam’s first wife. The three of them (although Lilith has a more advisory role to this entire thing and is actually working on her own workforce idea) created the ‘Angels’, trying to one-up all the data they could get from Yaldabaoth’s project to make them better than humans.
They are. Unfortunately, that meant they were also… shall we say… ‘freer’ than humans as well. God knew that the Isus would see them as defective and, not only that, many would find what they have done as some form of betrayal and being stripped of their rank and status would be the lightest sentence the Isu would give them. So God and Goddess kept the Angels a secret, and passed them off as human slaves while Lilith went her merry way and continued to work on her personal workforce.
And now we come to the whole ‘gave mankind freewill’.
So many like to point at Lucifer as being the serpent that gave Eve the forbidden fruit. Let’s use it. Lucifer, being one of God’s first children, takes an Apple of Eden and presented it to Eve who used it to start the Human-Isu war. Lucifer takes up arms to join the humans.
Things get super messy when they find out about the impending Solar Flare and God and Goddess decided to add their consciousness to a device called ‘Heaven’. (In this setup, Goddess!Charlotte would be like a more ‘questionable’ setup of an Isu consciousness overwriting a human’s consciousness). Their children (who did have the kind of body that would survive a solar flare and were more or less immortal) were tasked with guarding ‘Heaven’.
Except Lucifer who, as punishment for starting the whole Human-Isu war, was tasked to guard a device called ‘Hell’. He guarded it together with Lilith’s ‘children’, the demons.
What these two devices do will be a mystery but they are connected to the Gray in some way and to the Calculations. Perhaps it’s even the actual database of all the Calculations and, by that very definition, it housed all the knowledge, memories and emotions of every living thing in the world.
What defines them as a person.
What defines their soul.
And, from there, we can just integrate all Celestial things in the show as this entirely more advanced workforce’s ‘code words’. (And the devices are connected and that’s why God could boot the Goddess into hell)
By the time 2013 rolls around, Lucifer already owned Lux for a few years now and Desmond applies as a bartender as he’s had enough of all these Assassin-Templar BS to last him a lifetime. He saved the world, this is his damn retirement plan.
Lucifer sees him and goes ‘how interesting, an actual human-POE hybrid.’ while Desmond sees him and goes ‘why does he feel… familiar?’ because his Isu genes and POE-hybridness is giving him signals that Lucifer is definitely not human BUT he ain’t an Isu too.
He’s… Isu-adjacent.
Like Maze.
So Desmond continues to work there and Lucifer finds the perfect time to do the whole “what do you desire?” and Desmond’s POE-hybridness just kicked in.
We’ll make it in this fic that all the Apples are connected to one another and they have a ‘shared memory space’ so Desmond ‘remembers’ that this is the smug bastard who gave the Apple to Eve.
And, because of his limited knowledge of religion, he goes “Why the fuck is actual Satan here in LA?!”
(side note: some count Satan and Lucifer as two different beings but, in this case, we’ll just make Satan another name for Lucifer)
So now they both showed their hands. Lucifer just blatantly showed he wasn’t human and Desmond just showed he has Isu-related knowledge.
Cue an entire night of trying to get drunk while talking about what the fuck happened to them (with special mention to their daddy issues and the whole reluctant ruler of hell and the ‘more-or-less pushed into it’ savior/sacrifice)
At the end of their heart-to-heart, Desmond becomes Lucifer’s main confidant and slowly becomes his BFF. Lucifer uses his mojos to keep Desmond hidden from both Assassins and Templars.
Also… it’s not just Abstergo’s that in his shitlist. William Miles is there as well, that’s for damn sure.
Another subplot we can add is that Lucifer ‘asking’ Chloe to look into Abstergo just so he can, you know… ask them… what they desire?
Other unorganized notes:
What do we do with Juno? I set it to 2013 so Desmond dealt with Juno before peacing out to be a random bartender. Hey, if Ubisoft can do it in the comics, we can take out Juno with one paragraph… maybe even one sentence.
Desmond could see through Maze’s shapeshifting. Whenever he uses Eagle Vision, he sees Maze’s true form.
Actually, Desmond’s Eagle Vision has been powered up by his POE-hybridness that he sees EVERYONE’s true form. His only description of Lucifer’s form? “Bright as fuck.” (this also means Desmond knows Michael by 'sight')
Also, Amenadiel? He looovvveess Desmond’s Shirley Templars.
Lucifer’s deals? He has a connection to Hell and, because of that connection, he’s connected to the Calculations as well. In this case, any deal he makes impacts the Calculations slightly so the person making the deal would get what they want.
Also, this:
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