#It's not really that concerning to me anyways from a 'how will people react to it' perspective (very niche game. hardly anyone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! First of all I *love* your guidelines. I’m just recently getting into Stray Kids and while I will read smut about 2D men, smut about real people is off putting to me, so that was really cool to see. Anyway, I love love love your angsty shots. They’re so good! Could I put in a request? I was thinking like how they would all react like, they were out on a date and paparazzi get too aggressive with Y/N and it causes her to get hurt? (I had a dream where I was on a date with Bangchan and we were trying to get into the back of a car and once I got in a paparazzi went to the other side of the car and yanked me out and Bangchan was BIG mad at them, especially cause when I fell out of the car I broke my wrist from landing on it) ANYWAY SORRY FOR THE RANT I’m just big in my feelings about these guys now and since it’s just new I know I’m in for a ride. Thank you!

When Paparazzi Gets Too Violent

OT8 x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight cussing

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Bang Chan

The night had started off perfectly- just you and Chan enjoying a cozy dinner in a quiet restaurant. It had been a while since you two had some time to unwind, since he had been busy with a comeback, and he looked so relieved to just be in your company. You loved watching him let down his guard, his tired eyes softening as he smiled at you across the table.

But the peace didn’t last long.

As soon as you both stepped out onto the street, the flashing lights and swarm of paparazzi descended. You heard your boyfriend let out a deafening sigh.

"Let's just get to the car," Chan whispered, his hand firm on the small of your back as he tried to guide you through the crowd of photographers, questions flying at both of you.

Despite his calm facade, you could feel his body tense under the pressure, his jaw clenching tighter each time someone shoved forward for a shot. You could tell he was on edge, trying so hard to keep his cool.

But then it happened.

You were just about to step into the safety of the car when a paparazzo grabbed you by the arm and yanked you backward. The sudden force threw you off balance, and before you knew it, you were crashing to the pavement. The pain in your wrist was immediate and sharp as you braced yourself on the concrete. The gasp you let out sent Chan into a rage.

"Y/N!" His voice was frantic as he rushed to your side, but the second his eyes landed on the man who had pulled you, something dark flickered across his face.

Bang Chan was not one to lose his temper. He was the leader, the level-headed one, but seeing you hurt because of someone else’s carelessness was his breaking point.

He stood, stepping between you and the crowd, his entire posture shifting from protective to menacing in the blink of an eye. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?!" His voice was low and dangerous, and you could see the tension in his fists, knuckles white as he held himself back from doing something drastic.

The paparazzo who had grabbed you shrunk back under his icy glare, but the cameras kept flashing, people still trying to get closer.

Chan shoved him back, hard. "Get. Away. From her."

It was only when he heard your voice again, a weak "Chan, I'm okay…" that he turned his attention back to you, his anger melting instantly into concern. His eyes softened as he knelt down beside you, his hands gentle as they reached for your wrist.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice shaky, filled with guilt. "I’m so sorry. I should’ve-"

You shook your head, biting back the pain, not wanting to make him feel worse. "It's not your fault."

But he wasn’t having any of it. "We’re going to the hospital," he said firmly, scooping you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing. "And I swear, I' won’t let them get away with this. I'm ruining that bastard. "

Lee Know

You and Minho were just trying to enjoy a quiet evening stroll through the park- nothing fancy, just some much-needed alone time. Minho had been busy lately, so this was your chance to reconnect, to talk, to be close. The air was crisp, the city lights reflecting off the pond as you held hands, walking slowly. It was a short escape.

Paparazzi had a way of ruining even the quietest moments. You didn’t notice them at first, but Minho did. His grip on your hand tightened subtly, his gaze shifting as they began to close in, cameras ready, questions already being flung at both of you.

He didn’t say anything- just kept walking, his jaw set, but you could feel the tension in his steps, the way his body became a shield between you and them.

"Ignore them," he muttered under his breath, pulling you a little closer. His voice was calm, almost icy. Minho never gave them the satisfaction of a reaction.

But then one of the paparazzo's got too close- pushing past Minho to get a better shot of you. The sudden shove caused you to lose your footing, and before you could even process what was happening, you were on the ground, a sharp pain shooting through your knee.

You winced, your hands instinctively reaching for your leg, but before you could even say a word, Minho was already in motion.

He froze, his eyes narrowing in on the photographer who had knocked you down. The air around him seemed to grow colder, his usual composed demeanor unraveling in the blink of an eye. "Are you out of your mind?"

His voice was so calm it was terrifying.

Minho’s eyes were dark as he stepped toward the paparazzo, and though he wasn’t yelling, the quiet, seething rage in his voice made everyone around stop in their tracks. "You’ve got five seconds to leave before I make you regret it."

The man stammered, backing away, but Minho didn’t even spare him another glance as he knelt down next to you, his hands surprisingly gentle as they inspected your scraped knee.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his tone soft and completely different from the menacing one he used just moments before.

You nodded, wincing as he brushed some of the dirt off your skin. "It’s just a scratch though, I'll be okay."

His eyes softened, though you could still see the anger simmering beneath the surface. "I’m sorry," he whispered, more to himself than to you. "The night's ruined now..."

You shook your head, knowing it wasn’t his fault, but Minho wasn’t easily reassured. He stood, lifting you in his arms as he headed toward the car. "Let’s go home. I’m not letting you out of my sight again."

Changbin

Being with Changbin was always full of fun, laughter, and energy. Tonight was no different as you both walked hand-in-hand down the street after attending an small festival and grabbing a bit to eat. The air was light, and Changbin was chatting animatedly about music, making you giggle as he recounted a funny story from practice earlier.

But the night took a turn for the worse when you two were spotted. At first, it was just a few cameras, nothing unusual. Changbin was good at staying composed in these situations, but tonight, the crowd of photographers seemed to multiply within seconds, blocking your path as they shoved their cameras in your faces.

Changbin’s expression shifted instantly, his playful smile fading as he moved protectively in front of you. "Stay behind me," he muttered, his voice low and firm.

You did as he said, gripping his arm as he tried to push through the crowd, but the paparazzi weren’t letting up. One of them shoved past Changbin, aiming for a close-up shot, and in the process, they knocked into you hard.

You stumbled backward, tripping over the uneven pavement and hitting your head against the side of a parked car. The impact sent a sharp pain through your skull, and you gasped, your hand flying to your head as you tried to steady yourself.

That was all it took for Changbin to snap.

His usually calm and playful demeanor was gone, replaced by a burning fury that made everyone around stop in their tracks. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?!" His voice boomed through the crowd as he stormed toward the man who had hurt you.

Changbin wasn’t usually one to raise his voice in anger, but when he did, it was enough to make even the bravest person shrink back. The photographer stammered, trying to backpedal, but Changbin was already in his face, his fists clenched as he loomed over him.

"You touch her again, and I swear-"

"Changbin," you called out softly, trying to bring him back to reality as you cradled your head. "I’m okay…"

Hearing your voice, he snapped out of it, his expression softening instantly as he rushed back to your side. "Are you hurt? Let me see."

His hands trembled slightly as he gently brushed your hair away from your face, his eyes filled with guilt and concern. "I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking.

You shook your head, trying to reassure him. "It’s not your fault."

But Changbin wasn’t convinced. He helped you into the car, his jaw still clenched as he muttered, "I’m never letting them get near you again."

Hyunjin

Hyunjin had always been good at keeping his emotions in check when the paparazzi were involved, but tonight they seemed particularly aggressive. You two had just finished a late-night art gallery visit, one of Hyunjin’s favorite ways to unwind, when the paparazzi caught wind of your location.

At first, Hyunjin tried to ignore them, his arm securely around your waist as you both headed toward the car. "Don’t look at them," he whispered, his voice calm but with an edge of anxiety. He hated the way they intruded on your private moments. Especially when you weren't too keen about having your face all over the internet.

But as you got closer to the car, the crowd surged forward, one of the photographers getting too close. In the rush, someone shoved you hard from behind, causing you to trip and fall forward. You reached out trying to grab Hyunjin- accidentally bringing him down with you, which caused the cameras to snap even more. Hyunjin had somehow landed on top of you; while you landed awkwardly on your elbow, pain shooting up your arm as you let out a soft cry.

Hyunjin had already gotten up but upon hearing your cry his entire body froze. His gaze shot down to where you were on the ground, and for a moment, he didn’t move, the shock registering on his face. Then, something snapped.

His eyes blazed as he turned to the photographer who had caused your fall, his usually soft expression darkening with anger. "Why the hell would you think it's okay to get rough?!" he spat, his voice shaking with fury. Hyunjin wasn’t one to yell, but the way his voice trembled with suppressed rage was even more terrifying.

He stalked toward the man, his entire body tense as if he was ready to lash out at any moment. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" His voice was quiet, but the threat in his tone was unmistakable.

The photographer backed away, stammering apologies, but Hyunjin wasn’t listening. His focus was on you now, his anger dissipating the second he saw you holding your elbow in pain.

"Y/N…" He knelt down beside you, his hands hovering over your arm as if he was afraid to touch you in case he made it worse. "Where does it hurt, love? I’m so sorry…I didn’t see them coming towards you, it's my fault.”

You winced, trying to smile through the pain. "I’ll be okay."

But Hyunjin wasn’t having any of it. "We’re going to get your elbow checked out." he said firmly, his voice still shaking as he helped you to your feet. "And then we'll deal with the idiot who pushed you."

Jisung

Jisung had always been protective of you, but he wasn’t one to confront others unless he absolutely had to. Tonight, however, the situation forced his hand.

You and Jisung were leaving a small café after a quiet date, enjoying the peace that came with being together without people around. But that peace was shattered when a swarm of cameras appeared out of nowhere, crowding around you both as you tried to make your way back to the car.

At first, Jisung tried to keep it together. His grip on your hand tightened as he led you through the mass of flashing cameras and shouted questions. His heartbeat raced, anxiety bubbling in his chest as he tried to remain calm for your sake. You could easily tell he was anxious by the way his hand shook in yours.

But then it happened.

One of the photographers got too close, bumping into you as she shoved her camera forward. The force of it sent you stumbling, your knee hitting the ground hard as you let out a sharp cry of pain.

Panic surged through Jisung. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he froze, his wide eyes darting between you and the crowd around you. He wanted to lash out, wanted to yell, but his anxiety made his words catch in his throat.

Instead, he knelt down beside you, his trembling hands hovering over your injured knee. "Y/N, are you okay?" His voice wavered, the fear and guilt evident in his tone.

You winced, trying to smile through the pain. "I think I’m okay, just a bit scraped up."

Jisung’s mind raced. He knew he should say something, do something, but his usual anxious thoughts were louder than ever. What if he made it worse? What if he couldn’t protect you?

But then he saw the look on your face- how you were trying so hard to stay strong even though you were in pain -and something in him snapped. His fear was replaced by a surge of protective anger.

Jisung stood up, his usually anxious eyes hardening as he faced the paparazzi. His voice was shaky, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. "Back off," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper, but firm. "You’ve done enough."

The paparazza who had bumped into you tried to offer an apology, but Jisung wasn’t listening. His focus was solely on you as he crouched back down, gently helping you to your feet. His hands were still shaking, but his grip was steady as he held you close.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered, his eyes glistening with guilt and worry. "I should’ve done more."

You shook your head, placing a hand on his cheek. "It’s not your fault, Jisung. I’m okay. And there isn't much you can do about them."

But Jisung wasn’t convinced. He gently wrapped an arm around your waist, helping you limp toward the car. His voice was quiet, filled with an anxiety-fueled promise. "I’ll protect you better next time, I swear. I won’t let them hurt you."

As you both reached the safety of the car, Jisung finally let out the breath he had been holding, pulling you into a tight hug. His body trembled slightly, but his arms were firm around you, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but filled with sincerity. "I’m never letting this happen again. Never."

Felix

Felix had always been the softest, sweetest soul you’d ever met, but even the kindest person had their limits. Tonight, you found out exactly what that limit was.

You and Felix were on your way to a late-night movie when the paparazzi caught wind of your date. It started with a few photographers, nothing Felix couldn’t handle. He just kept you close, his hand in yours, trying to keep the mood light as you both walked toward the theater. If anything, some cute and candid photos of his love for you would be broadcasted to the world. Nothing too bad about that, right?

But then the crowd started to grow, and they weren’t just taking pictures- they were yelling questions, getting closer and closer with each step. Felix’s grip on your hand tightened, his steps growing faster as he tried to get you away from them.

"Just ignore them," he whispered, his usual bright demeanor gone as he focused on getting you to safety.

But then, in the chaos, one of the photographers reached out, grabbing your shoulder to pull you back for a better shot. The force of it caused you to stumble, your ankle twisting painfully as you cried out in surprise.

That was when everything changed.

That limit was reached.

Felix’s usually bright eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them as he turned on the photographer who had dared to touch you. You had never seen him like this- his entire body radiated fury as he stepped toward the man, his voice low and dangerous.

"Touch her again, and I swear to God, I'll end you." Felix’s voice was a quiet snarl, each word laced with venom. He didn’t have to yell to be terrifying. The photographer shrank back, clearly not expecting this reaction from the usually soft-spoken Felix.

But Felix didn’t stop there. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "You think you can just push her around like that?" His voice trembled with rage, his fists clenched at his sides as he held himself back from doing something he might regret.

Despite Felix’s usually soft-spoken nature, tonight, seeing you hurt pushed him beyond his breaking point. The paparazzo who had shoved you continued to cower as Felix approached him, his eyes blazing with a fury that you had never seen before.

No one had, really. You now understood why the members had once said Felix might have been the scariest one of them all, when he was truly angry.

"You think this is a game?" Your fiancé's voice was low, almost a whisper, but it was filled with a deadly calm that sent chills down your spine. His usually gentle demeanor had been replaced by something darker, more dangerous.

The paparazzi stuttered an apology, backing away, but Felix didn’t move. He took another step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "You don’t get to touch her," he growled, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying an unmistakable threat. "You crossed a line, and that was a huge mistake."

The photographer muttered an apology, scurrying away, but Felix wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. He turned back to you, his expression softening instantly as he saw you clutching your ankle.

"Oh, love," he whispered, his voice full of guilt and concern as he crouched down beside you. "I don't know how I got blessed with someone like you. The fact you put up with all of this is insane."

He helped you up. "Is your ankle, okay?"

"Yeah, I think I just landed on it weird I'll be fine..." Your voice was a bit shaky- not because you were in pain but because an angry Felix was...scary, to say the least. "I can walk- woah!"

Felix scooped you up into his arms effortlessly, the pure rush of adrenaline giving him a strength that you figured could rival Changbin's in the moment. His eyes still blazed with anger as he shot a look towards the rest of the paparazzi who left without another word. "They'll never bother us again." he promised, his calm. "I swear."

Seungmin

Seungmin was always calm under pressure, the voice of reason when things got chaotic. But even he had times where his rationale would fly out the window.

You and Seungmin were walking through the streets after dinner, enjoying a date night together when the paparazzi found you.

Or someone else for that matter. As you two quickly realized they were focused on a different idol who had happened to be in the same area. So, Seungmin just kept his arm around you, his posture relaxed, guiding you through around crowd without a word- without so much as a look to the cameras.

And you almost got away.

That was until more photographers joined in, pushing and shoving to get closer, to the other idol. Seungmin’s calm demeanor began to slip. He tightened his hold on you, his eyes flickering with irritation as he tried to get you through the growing crowd.

"Just pay no mind," he muttered, his voice low, but you could hear the tension in it.

You nodded, staying close to him as you reached the end of the crowded space- but then another swarm of the pap came in and in the midst of chaos, someone pushed you from behind, causing you to stumble and fall against the pavement. Your hands hit the ground hard, scraping your palms as you let out a small whine, trying to get up but nearly stampeded in the process.

That was when Seungmin snapped.

His usually calm eyes darkened as he turned on the photographer who had pushed you, his entire body radiating fury. "What the hell is wrong with you?" His voice was low and controlled, but the anger in it was unmistakable.

One of the paparazza's turned to see Seungmin, who in the middle of the commotion had somehow lost his hat.

Seungmin wasn’t the type to raise his voice, but the way he looked at the photographer made everyone around stop in their tracks for a second. The woman stammered, trying to back away, but Seungmin wasn’t letting her off easily.

But the second the words left his mouth, he felt the cool breeze ruffle his hair and he knew he made a mistake. He mutter a curse under his breath and he rushed to your side blocking you from the paparazzi as their cameras started flashing in his direction. His hands were gentle as they reached for yours, inspecting the scrapes on your palms. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice full of guilt.

You nodded. "I’ll be fine."

"I'm sorry I drew attention to us." He murmured.

"It's okay."

But Seungmin's mood was ruined. He helped you to your feet, his eyes still flickering with anger as he glared at the paparazzi over his shoulder. "No pictures." he said firmly, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury as he guided you to where he had parked the car. It was no use, since they never listened. But he continued chanting it as he hid your face.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He said once more. "They're the fucking worst."

Jeongin

You and Jeongin had been trying to enjoy a quiet day out, just the two of you exploring the city. He’d been excited to show you some of his favorite spots, and the day had been perfect, but the inevitable happened.

Jeongin tensed the moment he saw the cameras approaching, his hand tightening around yours as he tried to keep his cool. "Just stay close," he whispered, his voice calm but a little shaky. "It hasn't happened to me yet but sometimes they can get rough..."

You could tell he was nervous, but he did his best to protect you, stepping in front of you as the photographers got closer. They started snapping pictures, throwing questions at you both, but Jeongin just kept walking, his arm securely around you.

But then one of the paparazzi got too close, pushing past Jeongin to get a better shot of you. The sudden shove knocked you off balance, and you tripped over the curb, falling hard onto the pavement. You cried out as you landed on your tailbone.

Damn that hurts.

You felt blood seeping on the back of your leg too, a shard of glass seeming to have cut through your pant and wounded your thigh.

Jeongin froze, his eyes wide with shock as he saw you on the ground and the bit of blood. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do, his usual calm demeanor slipping as panic set in. "Y/N…" he whispered, his voice trembling as he crouched down beside you.

"Where are you bleeding from?" he asked, his hands hovering over you as if he was too scared to touch you, afraid of making it worse.

You winced, in annoyance, since the fall was painful but not unbearable. "I think that there was a broken bottle..."

Jeongin’s eyes filled with guilt as he glanced back at the paparazzi, his usually soft expression hardening for just a moment. He wasn’t the type to get angry easily in front of you, but seeing you hurt because of someone else’s carelessness made something inside him snap.

He stood up, turning to face the photographer with a look of quiet fury. "You shouldn’t have done that," he muttered, his voice low and steady, but there was a fire in his eyes that you had never seen before. "Get away now before I call the police on all of you."

When the paparazzi didn't listen his voice raised.

"I SAID LEAVE!" His voice was sharp and threatening. So much so the group immediately dissipated.

He quickly turned his attention back to you after making sure everyone was gone, his hands trembling slightly as he helped you up. "I’m so sorry…" he whispered, his voice thick with guilt as he wrapped an arm around you. "I didn't think they would do that..."

You shook your head, trying to reassure him. "It’s not your fault, Innie."

Jeongin frowned, pulling you closer to him. "Next time we can bring one of the Hyungs. Then I can protect you better."

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

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ihavemanyhusbands · 3 months ago

Note

Saw you were taking Lucius Verus requests 👀

Perhaps something along the lines of Lucius rescuing reader from trouble. Hurt/comfort? I just know those biceps could hold me all day…

(if you write this can you tag me pls)

Oooooh thanks for requesting!!

(For the sake of this scenario, let’s say Lucius was allowed to walk the streets of Rome. Tw // mild violence)

————

“Fifteen denarii? For this?” You raised your eyebrows at the textile merchant, pointing at the swath of fabric you’d been sampling. “You must take me for a fool."

He frowned, his screwed up face uglier and even less friendly than before. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"For the quality, this is ten at best! And that’s being generous!”

"How dare you!" He spat, causing the stall's guard to take a menacing step forward. "This is genuine Tarentum wool!"

"I own such wool, and it doesn't feel nearly as coarse as this," you scoffed, tossing the fabric back at him. "You are scamming people with fakes."

"You forget yourself, woman," the guard said, his voice gruff.

He raised a large, meaty hand with the intent to strike you across the face and you flinched, trying to cover yourself with your hands. You grit your teeth in anticipation...

But the startling pain never came. You dared to look up as you heard the guard's confused grunt, and you saw that another man had caught his wrist.

"I would really advise against that," the man said, a dangerous edge to his tone.

"And who are you!? This does not concern you!" The merchant said, turning his glare away from you. "She was trying to tarnish my business!"

"Not without good reason, I suspect."

The guard tried to shove him off, but the man swiftly spun away from from his reach and punched him square in the face. You clambered backward as a full on brawl broke out between them, breaking the table where all the different pieces of textile were displayed. Your first instinct was to flee, but as you turned to run, a hand caught your arm.

"And just where do you think you're going?" the merchant sneered, his grip tight enough to bruise. "Look what you have caused!"

He backhanded you harshly, and at your cry, your savior knocked the guard unconscious and whirled around. There was fury in his gaze as he saw you cradling one side of your face with your free hand, and he took up the fallen guard's sword.

"Let go of her," he said slowly, pointing the tip of the sword at the merchant. "Or I'll cut off your hands."

Begrudgingly, the merchant let you go, and your savior nodded at you to get behind him. You hurried towards him without a second thought, instinctively holding onto his tunic. The two men stared at each other for a tense moment, poised to strike.

"I should cut them off anyway, so you may never strike a woman again," he spat, but lowered the sword.

"Get the fuck out of here," the merchant growled, his teeth clenched. "If I ever see either of you around here again, I'll have you killed."

Your savior did not even react to the threat, instead glancing at you over his shoulder. "Come on, let's go."

He tossed the sword on the ground and led you away, hovering close behind you to make sure no one else tried anything. Out in the busy street, he stopped you so he could examine your face, frowning. His thumb traced your cheekbone ever so lightly, which was just beginning to turn faintly purple.

You looked at him more closely, as well, pinned in place by the concern in his crystalline blue eyes. He was handsome in an almost divine way, like the personification of the god of war, Mars. He certainly fought like him, too, an undercurrent of violence under the flex of his muscles.

But you were not afraid of him, instead just awed that he had done it all in your defense.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his eyes meeting yours.

You shook your head. "Just a dull throb now. Won't look so pretty for a while, though..."

"You needn't be concerned about that," he said, his hand retreating.

You swallowed hard, your face heating up at the insinuation. "I--Thank you for saving me, um..."

"Lucius, he said. "Lucius Verus."

"Thank you, Lucius," you said. "Surely I would be worse off if it hadn't been for you. Aren't you afraid he might call the Praetorian guard?"

"He won't. He would have to answer too many other questions that I'm sure he would prefer not to, especially about his business practices..."

You nodded, letting out a breath as you felt a little more relieved. You felt the urge to hug him, but instead you took both of his hands and squeezed them appreciatively.

"May the Gods bless you always, Lucius Verus."

He squeezed your hands back and smiled, inclining his head graciously.

"And you," he said, then glanced around at the busy crowd of the market. "I should like to be your personal guard for the rest of the day, if you'd let me escort you."

Your smile widened. "Well, I would never dream of declining such generous offer."

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#lucius verus x reader #lucius verus x you #gladiator fanfiction #lucius verus x fem!reader #lucius verus #x reader #minors dni

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wandixx · 8 months ago

Text

Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 1

these snippets aren't connected in anyway but just some little scenes I came up with, everyone is welcome to build up on them if they want to

unrelated snippet nr 2, unrelated snippet nr 3(?)

“Thank you, young man,” elderly man, a civilian, said to Phantom, squeezing his shoulder when the boy transported him away from the battle into an established safe zone. Hero froze for a moment, blinking rapidly.

“You’re… welcome?” he squeaked and flew back to fight the first chance he got, still dazed.

He was lost in thought the whole time he worked after that, rescuing some teen girls too curious, brave and stupid to run away on their own when they still had a chance. If Kid Flash didn’t warn him, one of the goons would land a really nasty hit, which should not have happened. Phantom had one of the best combat spatial awareness out of all of them. He couldn’t always react in time, but it almost never escaped him that an attack was coming.

Something was wrong. Really wrong.

That was why, as soon as the fight was over, Kaldur approached his teammate. He saw Robin doing the same.

Phantom, to give him credit where credit is due, didn’t fly away from the scene first given chance like always. Instead he sat in the space where they were transporting civilians, hand on his right shoulder, unseeing eyes locked on some cracks in the pavement. His mouth was moving without making a sound. He was covered in dust, like all of them.

“Phantom,” Kaldur asked through Mindlink “are you injured?”

Ghost flinched and turned his head, giving the leader a shaky smile. His eyes were still distant.

“Yeah, no, I’m alright. Sorry I was so out of it. Thanks for the rescue Wally, "the boy replied but his eyes slowly turned back to where he was staring before. Other than that, he hadn't moved.

“Phantom, what’s wrong?” Robin tried, both out loud and through Mindlink. Now the whole Team was concerned.

“It's nothing, really,” Phantom answered with a distant tone.“ Just… something weird happen and I need a moment to wrap my head around it”

“What was it?” Artemis asked bluntly before Conner did the Mindlink equivalent of smack on the back of a head. It was a bit weird to see Conner as the sensitive one. Black Canary was doing a great job with helping him over his anger.

“Let him process it on his own before you demand answers,” he growled.

“Adult civilian thanked me,” the ghost mumbled with awe at the same time. For a moment everyone froze in muted shock.

This explained so much while being so confusing. Yes, civilians tended to do it. It felt great. It didn’t warrant such an intense reaction.

“That's nice,” M’gann sent carefully after a long moment.

“Mhm… Really nice”

Kaldur slowly put a hand on the arm Phantom wasn’t holding, to help ground him a bit. Despite his efforts, the ghost flinched under his touch.

“We need to go to a bioship and back to the Mountain. You should probably come with us”

He expected a fight, he had various ideas how to convince younger boy but instead he heard quiet, small “Sure”

Ghost didn’t move for a long moment.

“Phantom?” Robin asked and again, the response was a violent flinch.

“Sorry, sorry. I know it’s dumb I’m just-” he transmitted some sort of lowering melody that Kaldur didn’t know “-right now”

“Did you just send Windows XP shutting down noise?!” Wally yelled, exasperated.

“He did,” Robin snorted. Artemis laughed from one of the surrounding rooftops.

Phantom’s lips twitched with a minimal smile but it disappeared before it fully set. His brows furrowed as he stood up, shrugging Kaldur’s hand off in the process.

“Is this publicly known that I’m a ghost? Like, outside Amity? Or do people just assume I’m a meta?”

“Around 3% of discourse about you is ‘alive or not’-”Robin stated after few seconds of searching n his wrist computer “-with people saying stuff like ‘I’ve seen him breathe’ but everyone else responds with some variation of ‘Are you really going to tell kid how he’s supposed to cope with being dead? Really Jared?’ and the general consensus is that you are in fact a ghost. More people wonder what pronounce you use. Why?”

Phantom said nothing. Kaldur exchanged worried glances with Robin and called everyone else to meet by the bioship. It was a successful but tiring mission and they all wanted nothing more than to relax. After debrief because of course Batman would find things that could’ve gone better.

M’gann and Wally were already waiting by the time they got there. Martian was stiff and looked like she was focusing on some really hard task. She almost shut down the Mindlink.

“Phantom, your thoughts are really loud” she whispered out loud “Louder than normal ghost thoughts. I’m trying not to listen or to transmit it on Mindlink but it’s pretty hard. What’s wrong?”

Kaldur remembered the conversation they all had almost right after Phantom joined the Team. As it turned out, ghosts as ‘the beings of emotions’ had thoughts that Martians could read but on different frequencies than living, whatever that meant, and they were really loud. Like they were screaming on the top of their lungs.

Asphalt creaked ominously when Conner jumped down to join them.

“Sorry”

M’gann relaxed minutely before she got visibly angry.

“I don’t mean ‘shield everything’ Phantom, it’s extremely unhealthy, explain what’s wrong?!”

“Seriously guys, you’re all overreacting. It’s not that deep. I'm just weirded out a bit”

“Your brain was screaming ‘It doesn’t make sense!’ on repeat” M’gann pointed out dryly, ending the Mindlink and motioned them inside the bioship right after Artemis scrambled down a fire escape and joined them.

Phantom skillfully ignored the concerned gazes of every member of the Team other than M’gann who at least pretended to focus on flying. He looked like he was trying to figure out some really complicated puzzle.

“What did this civilian say, exactly?” Robin asked, breaking the silence with a surprising amount of caution in his voice.

“He said ‘Thank you, young man’ and squeezed my shoulder,“ the ghost explained with a wistful and a bit hazy smile. It still didn't justify such an intense reaction “I can still feel it. T’was nice. Not strong enough to hurt but… sure? I didn’t do anything, really, and he most likely knows I'm a ghost, but he thanked me anyway. No sense”

Halfway through Robin seemed to get an idea and once again started typing away on his computer. Phantom sunk into his seat more comfortably, but he quickly returned to distressed overthinking.

“People rarely make sense,” Conner pointed out.

“Nah, you just can't people yet” Wally grinned between bites of his granola bar.

“Nah, you're just an extrovert with superpowers. People make no sense,” Artemis decided in a way that ended all arguments “But gratitude after rescue is pretty typical…”

“Not for Phantom“

“What do you mean, Robin?”

“He means, I'm a ghost, Kaldur,” Phantom started “Of course they're not thanking me. I'm an ‘odd, manipulative and evil manifestation of post-living consciousness on ectoplasm‘ and ‘always hostile towards living but lack the sentience to comprehend moral aspects of my behavior‘ and ‘should be eradicated for betterment of the living realm’.” he recited almost cheerfully and it made something in Kaldur’s stomach twist. Judging by their faces, his teammates felt the same way.

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” M’gann asked carefully.

“It doesn’t matter if I believe this or not. They do. Why would anyone thank me? Especially an adult. Teens apparently decided I'm hot so they support me, which is also weird, and kids think I'm cool because of the ectoblasts and can fly. They usually gush about being saved like ‘omg it’s Phantom’ which is still weird but not as surreal as anyone actually thanking. But that dude was probably on retirement. He wasn’t someone I would expect to have any positive interaction with. Most people his age would try to exorcize me or something”

“That certainly isn’t an aster”

“Eh, I’m fine. Most are just yelling. Problems start when anti-ghost weapons, especially guns, get on the table but I can’t blame them for that one too”

“Dude, I cannot express how far from fine this is”

“You deserve gratitude Phantom” Kaldur added “You’re doing a lot of great work”

“If you say so”

“Also, can we go back to the guns? How often do the people you’re saving try to shoot you?” Artemis asked, raising her head from inspecting her arrows.

“Amity Park is to ghost hunters what Gotham is to crime rates in the USA. Should not be counted if you want something actually similar to reality. Of course they have guns to shoot ghosts. And, let me remind you, I am a ghost-”

“I think we can talk about it another time. How do you feel, Phantom?” M’gann interrupted from her seat, intensly not looking back at them. She once again was tense.

“Still weird as hell to be honest”

“Good weird or bad weird” she pressed on. Kaldur kinda wanted to know what made her do that.

“Good… I think? I know a lot of emotions because I hang out with Jazz Fenton and she pshychoanalizes everyone but I have no idea what to call this. I’m happy that he said this, ecstatic even. But I’m still confused and cautious. Some part of me keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this man to come back, after realizing I’m evil ghost and call hunters and call me manipulative ecto-scum while looking me in the eyes and smile when I’m shot at”

“Did this happen? It’s a bit too specific to believe it didn’t” Wally announced.

“As if only once!” Phantom laughed in an almost hysterical way.

“Don’t think about it right now,” M’gann demanded “Do you want to tell us more about the thanks you got?”

Next words Phantom whispered as if he was sharing some important, sacred secret.

“When he squeezed my arm, it was such a gentle gesture. Such a gentle touch” he sounded on the verge of tears.

“Was it?”

“Yeah... Sorry I’m such a mess over it” ghost muttered after a moment, trying to dry his face with his sleeve. It couldn’t be too helpful nor pleasant, considering his uniform was made mostly out of rubber.

“That’s alright”

“He was so kind and like… cautious too, y’know? Like he cared to not hurt me. When my dad pats me on the back, I’m left out of breath and have to do a few steps to not fall face first on the ground and he thinks I’m normal,” it was always a bit disturbing to hear Phantom talk about his family in present tense. They never mentioned it because they knew when it was bad idea to say something but it didn’t make these instances any less unnerving“And this random civilian seen me as Phantom, almost invulnerable and powerful ghost and chose to be gentle”

Nobody mentioned tears dropping from Phantom’s eyes and down his chin.

“That sounds nice”

“It was. And I, like an idiot, stuttered ‘you're welcome’ and escaped as soon as I could” ghost grumbled, bringing himself back from the memory. Robin actually laughed, honest and open instead of the creepy giggle he used on all sorts of villains. Everyone else soon joined and between breaths someone choked out:

“I did this so many times. So many. I could probably buy a lollipop if I got a cent every time I did it. Maybe even two”

As soon as they weren’t at immediate risk of laughing to death Robin decided to risk it again by starting a captivating tale of clueless Batman holding a baby, getting pie as a present, getting pie in his face and few others.

When he finished, the comfortable type of silence stretched through the Bioship. Everyone was just contently resting, maybe even taking a nap before the ordeal of listening to Batman's ‘Every mistake you made today with sub and sub-sub categories’ lecture while keeping themselves from laughing after all the stories Robin just shared. Kaldur himself was almost asleep when Phantom whispered:

“Is it this nice the second time too?”

“Yeah. It’s even better when you start believing it”

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #dp x yj #No Danny didn't tell the team he's a halfa #not yet #i have no idea what the timeline is here but i think it's pretty early for both Danny and YJ #like they all still have barely any idea how this whole heroing and working in team thing works #i think Phantom rarely comes to actual base because he's busy in Amity #they cut him some slack because everyone knows it's a mess and JL is still working on some way to resolve it #since they can't just send Superman there whenever problem arrises because magic is his weaskness #but Danny still has communicator to call help if he needs it and he joins missions when he can #it's nice to have peers who understand the struggle of being teenage hero #even if they struggle aren't all the same #anyway #wandixx writes #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

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aspenmissing · 9 days ago

Note

Okay so I thought about writing to you for a while and I thought I would just give it a shot. So! When I was a teen I had some problems let's say... leaving me with not just scars but also a lowkey fucked nerve system making me be able to hold almost burning hot stuff for a little to long causing me to from time to time have slight burn wounds.

So would it be cool to write some of the arcane characters seeing readers burnt hands from accidentally grabbing a hot pan or smt?

Just an idea, but anyways love your work ^^

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʙꜱᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴀɪɴ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 5656 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴄɪᴘ (ᴄᴏɴɢᴇɴɪᴛᴀʟ ɪɴꜱᴇɴꜱɪᴛɪᴠɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀɪɴ), ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ, ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ꜱᴇʟꜰ ʜᴀʀᴍ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ᴡᴏᴡ, ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ ᴏɴ ꜱʜᴏᴡꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛɴᴏᴛ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɢᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ʟɪꜰᴇ, ᴏɴʟʏ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀꜱꜱᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄɪᴘ ɪꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ, ᴀꜱ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴇᴀꜱɪᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ! ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ! <3

JAYCE

It was a quiet evening in the apartment, the kind of peaceful night where the city sounds from Piltover drifted through the open window, blending with the soft hum of the lights. Jayce was busy tinkering with one of his projects, and Y/N was finishing up making a meal for them both.

As she looked around for the oven mitts, she realized they were nowhere to be found. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, then shrugged. “It’s fine,” she muttered to herself, deciding she’d just deal with it. After all, her hands had been through worse.

Y/N grabbed the hot baking tray with her bare hands, feeling nothing more than the weight of it. Her face remained completely neutral as she carefully moved the tray to the counter, not flinching at all from the heat that would have burned most people.

Jayce, however, noticed immediately. His head snapped up from his work, eyes wide with alarm. “Y/N, stop!” he called out, his voice rising in urgency.

Before she could even react, Jayce was already beside her, his hands snatching the tray from her grasp and sending it clattering into the sink. The loud crash echoed through the room, but Y/N didn't even blink, her hand still steady, her face calm as if nothing had happened.

Jayce’s concern deepened as he quickly grabbed her hand, inspecting it closely. His eyes widened at the sight of her skin—a few patches showing the early signs of blistering from the intense heat. His voice was thick with worry. “Y/N, are you out of your mind?” he said, his words harsh with concern. “That was ridiculously hot. Are you okay?”

Y/N looked down at her hand. A few light blisters had formed on her fingers, and the skin around them was red, but the pain didn’t show on her face. “I’m fine, Jayce,” she said nonchalantly, pulling her hand from his grasp and glancing over at the ruined food in the sink. “You didn’t have to throw it away. That was perfectly good food.”

Jayce’s brows furrowed, his grip tightening around the cloth he grabbed to tend to her hand. “You’re not fine, Y/N,” he muttered, starting to carefully wrap the cloth around her fingers. “Your skin’s blistering. This is dangerous—why didn’t you feel that?”

Y/N shrugged, looking away, her voice casual. “I’ve been like this since I was a kid. I don’t really feel much anymore.” She glanced at him, offering a wry smile.

Jayce’s hands faltered for a moment as he focused on her blistering skin. His disbelief was evident as he continued to wrap her hand, making sure it was secure. “I don’t care how long you’ve been like this, Y/N. This is dangerous.”

She chuckled lightly, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “You’d worry, I know. But it’s not like I asked for this, Jayce. Besides,” she motioned toward the ruined dish in the sink, “you wasted a perfectly good meal. I was planning on eating that.”

Jayce sighed, shaking his head, but there was affection in his voice as he carefully tended to her hand. “You still don’t get it, do you? It’s not the food I’m worried about, Y/N. It’s you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Y/N softened at his words, the teasing fading from her expression. She met his gaze, feeling the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m fine. Really. It’s just something from my childhood, that’s all. You can’t protect me from everything, Jayce.”

Jayce’s voice softened as he continued wrapping her hand, his gaze intense yet gentle. “I know I can’t protect you from everything. But I’ll be damned if I don’t try.”

Her heart fluttered at the depth of his words. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear them until now. “Well, don’t worry too much, okay? I’ll be fine.”

Jayce gently squeezed her hand as he finished wrapping it, offering a small, reassuring smile. “You’re stubborn. But I’ll always be here to take care of you, even if you don’t think you need it.”

Y/N gave him a playful grin, the teasing returning in full force. “Next time, just let me make the food, alright?”

Jayce laughed softly, the tension lifting a little. “Fine, but if you keep doing this, I’ll be keeping a closer eye on you.”

“I’m used to it,” she teased back, her usual confidence returning as she eased into the banter.

But beneath his smile, Jayce was already thinking of ways to make sure this wouldn’t happen again. He couldn’t bear the thought of her constantly pushing herself to the limit, and he was determined to find a way to help her feel something—anything other than the indifference to pain that had shaped so much of her life. He’d make sure, no matter what, that she never had to go through something like this again.

VIKTOR

It was another quiet afternoon in the lab, the rhythmic hum of Viktor's machines filling the air. His experiments were going smoothly as usual, but something was off—he hadn’t seen Y/N yet today. She always visited him after school, and she hadn’t shown up. He tried to shake the nagging worry from his mind, but he couldn’t help it.

Just as he was about to turn his attention back to his work, the door creaked open. Y/N stepped inside, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Hey, Viktor," she said softly, her voice warm as always.

Viktor glanced up, his frown easing as soon as he saw her. "miláčku," he greeted, a touch of relief in his voice. "You’re late today." (Sweetheart)

She shrugged, walking toward his desk. "I had to help with some things. Plus, I had a little accident."

His eyes narrowed, his concern immediately spiking. "An accident? What happened?"

Y/N chuckled lightly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I tripped on a loose board in the workshop. It’s nothing serious."

Viktor’s cane clicked against the stone floor as he stood, his expression turning serious. "Let me take a look at it," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

Y/N hesitated for just a moment but then nodded, sitting on a nearby stool and lifting her foot to show him. As she did, Viktor’s attention immediately shifted, his eyes locking on her foot. He froze. Her ankle was swollen, already bruising in shades of purple and blue, and the angle of her foot looked off—something was clearly wrong.

Viktor approached, using his cane for support, and gently reached out, his fingers brushing the swollen skin. He paused, his brow furrowing with concern as he examined her injury more closely.

"Miláčku," he began, his voice soft but edged with worry. "Your foot is broken." (Darling)

Y/N blinked, confusion crossing her face. "What? No, it can’t be."

"I’m certain," Viktor replied, his eyes scanning her foot again, a frown deepening on his face. "It’s fractured. Why didn’t you say anything?"

Her eyes met his, and she gave him a small, awkward smile. "I didn’t feel anything. I—" She trailed off, unsure of how to explain. "I can’t feel pain, Viktor. I have congenital insensitivity to pain. I’ve never felt it."

Viktor’s heart skipped a beat at her words. He had known that Y/N had a complicated history, but this—this was different. He had seen her push through countless injuries and exertions without hesitation, but he had never fully realized the depth of what that meant. She couldn’t feel pain. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

He gently adjusted her foot, trying to steady his breathing as he processed the reality of her condition. "You’ve never felt pain?" His voice was barely a whisper, his hands trembling slightly as he continued to handle her foot with care.

Y/N nodded. "Nope. Never. It’s just how I am."

Viktor clenched his jaw, his mind racing. He had always admired her strength, her resilience, but now, seeing her so vulnerable—it tore at him. A life without pain meant she couldn’t gauge when something was wrong. It meant she was always at risk, and that thought terrified him.

"I wish I could take it away," Viktor muttered under his breath, his eyes softening as he looked at her, his gaze full of tenderness and concern. "To make you feel what you need to feel."

Y/N smiled, her fingers gently reaching out to touch his hand. "It’s alright, Viktor. I’ve learned to live with it. But right now…" She gave him a playful wink. "Maybe you can fix this foot of mine? I think it’s time for some medical attention."

Sighing, Viktor carefully lifted her foot, using his cane to steady himself as he worked, his movements careful and precise. As he examined the injury and prepared to treat it, the lab grew quiet, save for the soft sounds of his hands working, the slight tapping of his cane on the floor.

"You’ve been through so much," Viktor said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He focused on setting the bones, trying to hold back the ache in his chest. "But you’re not alone anymore. You have me."

Y/N’s smile softened as she looked up at him, her eyes filled with affection. "I know, Viktor. And I’m glad I do."

When Viktor finished bandaging her foot, he looked into her eyes, and for a long moment, there was nothing but the understanding between them—a quiet bond forged through the trials they had faced, both together and apart. No words were needed to explain how they felt. They both knew.

"Rest, Y/N," Viktor murmured, his voice softer now. "I’ll keep an eye on you. I’ll make sure you’re alright."

Y/N chuckled, leaning back against the stool. "You always do." She paused, her tone turning teasing. "Though I might need a little more attention than usual. I’m broken, after all."

Viktor couldn’t help but smile at her lightheartedness, a warmth swelling in his chest. He walked over and set his cane aside, carefully sitting beside her. "Just don’t break anything else, alright?" he teased, his smile growing.

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling. "No promises."

And in that moment, with Y/N at his side and a bond stronger than any injury they might face, Viktor knew they could face whatever came next—together.

JAYVIK

Viktor sat at his desk, the soft hum of his devices filling the air. His focus was intense as his mechanical fingers danced across the papers, a mix of excitement and weariness on his face. He had been tinkering with a new prototype for a while now, a piece of technology that could change everything. However, something—or rather, someone—was missing.

Y/N had been quiet the last few hours, not her usual self. He knew something was off, even though she didn’t show it. Her condition, congenital insensitivity to pain (CIP), was something that made her an anomaly, a gift and a curse. She couldn’t feel pain, but it also meant she had no natural warning signs when something was wrong with her body. And despite all the advancements in technology that Viktor and Jayce had worked on, there was still no simple fix for her condition.

Jayce entered the room, the door creaking softly behind him. He noticed Viktor’s furrowed brow immediately. "She’s been quiet, hasn’t she?" he asked, his voice carrying concern.

Viktor looked up, his eyes meeting Jayce’s with a quiet understanding. "Yes. She’s hiding something. You know how she is—pushing through it without a word."

Jayce sighed, moving closer. He wasn’t as familiar with the intricacies of Y/N’s condition as Viktor was, but he knew enough. Y/N’s habit of concealing her discomfort had led to more than one incident where they found her in worse shape than either of them realized. They both understood the dangerous reality of her insensitivity to pain. She often didn’t even notice the severity of injuries, making them much harder to detect until they were too late.

"Should we check on her?" Jayce asked, his voice a little softer now, a mix of concern and tenderness. He cared for her deeply, and while he respected her independence, he also knew her limits. When it came to Y/N, both of them had learned that sometimes it took a little extra effort to keep her safe.

Viktor nodded, already moving toward the door. "Yes. We need to make sure she’s alright."

Y/N sat on the couch, her legs crossed underneath her as she idly twisted a small piece of yarn between her fingers, her mind elsewhere. She felt fine, at least on the surface. But deep down, a slight dizziness had been nagging at her for the last hour. She couldn’t place it—was it from the mild exhaustion or something more serious?

As the door opened, she looked up, meeting the eyes of both Viktor and Jayce. A faint smile tugged at her lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Hey," she greeted them, her tone light, but Viktor’s sharp gaze noticed the way her posture was slightly slumped, her expression far from the usual carefree energy she radiated.

"Y/N," Viktor’s voice was quiet but laced with concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

Y/N shook her head slightly, brushing it off. "I’m fine, really. Just tired."

Jayce crossed the room, sitting beside her, his hand resting on her shoulder. "You’re not fine, are you? Viktor’s right—you’re hiding something. You know you don’t have to do that with us, right?" His voice was gentle, but there was an edge to it—a reminder that she didn’t have to protect them from her condition.

Y/N hesitated, her fingers tightening around the yarn in her hands. She didn’t want to worry them. She didn’t want them to treat her like she was fragile, like she needed constant monitoring. But they both knew her better than that. They knew the signs, even if she was too stubborn to admit it.

"I’m just dizzy. It’s nothing," she muttered, but the words didn’t convince Viktor. He moved to kneel in front of her, his fingers lightly brushing her cheek.

"You should have told us sooner," Viktor said softly, though his gaze was unwavering. "You can’t always tell when something is wrong, Y/N. You know that."

She bit her lip, trying to push down the swell of frustration and guilt. She didn’t want to be a burden. "I didn’t want to worry you."

Jayce’s hand cupped her cheek, tilting her face toward him. "You’re not a burden to us. You’re our partner, Y/N. We’re here for you—always. No matter what."

Viktor agreed, his voice firm yet tender. "Exactly. You may not feel pain the way we do, but that doesn’t mean you’re immune to harm. Let us help you."

Y/N’s shoulders slumped as she sighed, finally allowing herself to lean into Jayce’s touch. "I just feel... off. But I didn’t want to drag you two into it."

Viktor’s brow furrowed with a mixture of worry and exasperation. "It’s not about dragging us in. It’s about taking care of you. We’ll always check on you. Whether you feel like it or not."

Jayce nodded, moving to sit beside her as Viktor stood to grab his medkit. "We need to run some tests. It’s not just dizziness that’s concerning. If it’s something else, we need to catch it early."

Y/N sighed again, but this time, there was relief in her exhale. She allowed Viktor to examine her, his hands gentle but precise as he checked her vitals, scanned her for any signs of physical distress that she might not have noticed. Jayce hovered nearby, watching her with a quiet protectiveness, his fingers absently tracing patterns on her back as she sat there, allowing them both to do their work.

After a few minutes, Viktor finished his quick check and stood, glancing at Jayce. "There’s nothing major to indicate a problem. It might just be a combination of stress and exhaustion. But you should rest."

Jayce’s hand gently squeezed Y/N’s, a silent reassurance. "If you need anything—anything at all—we’re here. Always."

Y/N smiled weakly, feeling a warmth she hadn’t known she needed. She was so lucky to have them both. She didn’t need to protect them from her condition—because they were her protection.

"Thank you," she whispered, her heart full of gratitude. "I don’t know what I’d do without you two."

Viktor gave her a soft smile. "You don’t have to do anything alone. We’re in this together."

And for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/N allowed herself to rest, knowing that no matter what, they would always be there to care for her—just as she would for them.

VANDER

The streets of Zaun buzzed with the usual hum of activity, but there was an unusual silence in the air as Y/N walked home that evening, the dim streetlights casting long shadows on the worn cobblestones beneath her feet. She didn't notice the droplets of blood forming with each step—small, almost imperceptible at first, but they were there, trailing behind her as she made her way to the Last Drop.

She had been out scavenging, hunting for anything useful to bring back to the kids or to keep herself occupied. It wasn’t the first time she'd been out for hours, lost in the task at hand, but this time, something felt different. There was an odd weight to the air, a twinge of discomfort she couldn't place. Still, she pushed on, one foot in front of the other, the constant motion a strange comfort.

By the time she reached the Last Drop, the familiar sounds of laughter and chatter greeted her. The kids were already gathered inside, sitting around a table, the faint scent of food and the warmth of the hearth wrapping around the room. Y/N pushed the door open, her eyes locking with the group, and for a moment, everything felt normal.

That was until Mylo, the ever-curious one, glanced down at the floor, his sharp eyes catching the droplets of blood that had slowly formed in her wake.

"Hey, what's that?" Mylo asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

Vi followed his gaze, her brow furrowing. "Y/N, where'd all that blood come from?"

Y/N blinked, looking down at her feet for the first time that night. Her eyes widened as she saw the tiny, dark droplets staining the floor beneath her. But she wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t felt anything—she never did when it came to her feet. It was a strange, unsettling numbness she’d lived with since childhood. The usual discomfort she should’ve felt from the sharp prick of a wound—nothing.

"Vander!" Powder called out, her tone urgent. "Something’s wrong with Y/N!"

Vander had been standing near the bar, watching the scene unfold. His expression shifted from the casual amusement he often wore around the kids to one of concern. With a few swift strides, he was by Y/N’s side, gently placing his large hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"Y/N, sit down," Vander ordered gently but firmly, his voice thick with worry.

Y/N didn’t protest. She sat down on one of the nearby stools, her eyes locked on Vander's as he crouched in front of her. His calloused hands carefully lifted one of her feet, inspecting it.

"What happened?" Vander asked, his voice steady but with an edge of confusion.

Y/N glanced down at her foot, knowing exactly what he would find. "I... don’t know. I didn’t feel it," she said softly. "I never feel anything at the bottom of my feet. Not since I was a kid."

Vander’s eyes narrowed in confusion, his gaze flicking between her face and her injured foot. "You’ve never felt pain there?" His voice was quiet, almost too soft, as though he were testing the words, unsure of what to make of the situation.

Y/N shook her head, her lips pressing together in a thin line. "It’s always been like this. I... I don’t feel the cuts or the bruises, the sharp things I step on. It just... it doesn’t reach me."

Vander's hands trembled slightly as he inspected her foot more closely. His fingers brushed over the deep wound where the rusted nail had been embedded. "How did this happen, Y/N?" His voice was low, almost a whisper of disbelief, his brows drawn together in concern. "You didn’t feel any of it? Not even the nail?"

"I didn’t feel anything," Y/N repeated quietly, her voice tinged with a helplessness she couldn’t quite hide. "It’s been like this for as long as I can remember. I’m used to it."

Vander sat back on his heels, his mind racing with unanswered questions. He looked up at Y/N, his protective instincts surging, though his tone remained cautious. "But you’ve been living like this? Not knowing when you’ve been hurt?" His voice cracked slightly, his concern for her only deepening.

Y/N gave a small, sad nod. "I’ve learned to ignore it, to keep going. I thought I was just... different."

Vander clenched his jaw, his heart heavy with the knowledge of just how much she had endured in silence. "Y/N, this isn’t right. You shouldn’t have to deal with this alone."

Y/N didn’t respond right away. Her gaze dropped to her foot, where Vander was gently working to remove the nail, his large hands moving with care. She felt the slight tug as the nail was pulled free, but the absence of pain was all she knew. She simply stared ahead, her mind adrift in a sea of thoughts she couldn’t quite grasp.

When Vander finished cleaning the wound, he wrapped her foot carefully in cloth. He met her eyes, his expression softer now but still filled with a quiet intensity. "I can’t just ignore this, Y/N. You’re not alone in this. Not anymore."

Y/N met his gaze, her heart swelling with a mixture of relief and confusion. "I don’t know what to do, Vander. I never understood why this happens to me."

"You don’t have to understand it alone," Vander said firmly, giving her foot one last reassuring touch before sitting back. "We’ll figure it out. You have us now. All of us."

Y/N’s eyes glistened, the weight of his words finally sinking in. She had spent so long hiding her pain, pushing it down, learning to live with it. But with Vander’s steady presence, she felt something stir in her—a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to carry it all alone.

"Thank you," she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips, but filled with a deep, overwhelming gratitude.

Vander gave her a small, knowing smile. "You don’t have to thank me love"

SILCO

The office of Silco was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of a few candles and the distant city lights filtering through the cracked windows. The steady hum of Zaun’s industrial heart echoed faintly in the background. Y/N sat quietly in one of the chairs by Silco’s desk, the air heavy with the kind of tension that only long-standing intimacy could cultivate.

Silco, ever the calculating figure, was reviewing a map of Zaun, his brow furrowed in concentration. Y/N, however, wasn’t focused on the papers in front of him. Her fingers absentmindedly traced over her arm, the skin itching beneath the fabric of her sleeve.

Silco’s eyes flickered over to her once, just long enough to catch the rhythm of her movement, before he went back to his work. He had noticed this behavior before—her absent-minded scratching, the way her eyes would glaze over when something, anything, caused her discomfort. He didn’t know exactly what it was about her past that had made her this way, but it intrigued him.

Y/N wasn’t aware of the depth of the itching. Her fingers slid along her forearm, nails grazing lightly over her skin in an almost unconscious gesture, trying to ease the discomfort. But the longer she scratched, the deeper her nails dug in, unnoticed by her. It wasn’t until a warm trickle of blood began to slide down her arm that she paused.

For a moment, Y/N’s brows furrowed in confusion. But it wasn’t pain she felt—it was a simple realization that something wasn’t right. She stared at the blood on her arm, watching as it spread, before she absentmindedly wiped at it with the back of her hand.

"Y/N," Silco's voice was low, his tone sharp but laced with concern. He had noticed the blood, and it didn’t sit right with him. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze dark and focused on her. "What’s going on?"

Y/N didn’t immediately answer, instead looking at him with a distant expression. She didn’t feel anything. No sharp burn, no ache, not even the subtle throb of a wound beginning to form. She just saw the blood.

"It’s nothing," she said softly, trying to downplay the situation, her eyes flitting to her arm. Her hand, in a reflex, began to reach for it again, instinctively scratching the same spot.

Silco’s eyes narrowed as he stood up, his movements swift and deliberate. He crossed the room in an instant, his presence looming over her as he took her arm gently but firmly, halting her motion.

"Stop," he said, his voice commanding. His fingers were warm against her skin, and he could feel the slight tremor in her wrist as if she didn’t even realize what she was doing. He traced his thumb lightly over the scratches she had made, noting how deep they were. The blood was still slowly pooling, staining her skin.

"How long has this been happening?" he asked, his voice no longer cold, but tinged with a protective edge that was rare for him to show.

Y/N blinked up at him, her mind racing. She didn’t quite know how to explain it—how long it had been like this, how it had become second nature to her, this absence of pain. The idea of feeling pain seemed almost foreign to her now. "I don’t feel it, Silco. Not anymore. I haven’t for years," she whispered, her voice barely audible, vulnerable in a way that only he could see. "I don’t know why."

Silco’s gaze softened for a moment, but it quickly turned dark again. There was more to her past than she was letting on, and it troubled him more than he cared to admit. He turned her wrist carefully, inspecting the blood that had already dried. His touch lingered on her skin, as if trying to understand it all, the puzzle pieces he was just beginning to see.

"Does it bother you?" he asked quietly, his thumb brushing over her skin once more. "The fact that you can't feel it?"

Y/N hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t quite find them. "Sometimes," she admitted, her voice low. "It’s like I don’t even know where my body ends and the world begins. I can’t tell when something is wrong until it’s too late." She looked up at him then, eyes wide with a kind of raw vulnerability he rarely saw. "I don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse."

Silco’s fingers shifted, carefully cupping her wrist, his thumb tracing soothing circles over her skin. "It’s neither, Y/N," he said softly, his tone steady and unwavering. "It’s a part of you. But it’s not something you have to face alone."

He leaned closer, his face softening for just a moment as he met her gaze with an intensity that was only for her. "You’re not alone anymore. Not in this."

Y/N’s breath hitched in her chest, the warmth of his words wrapping around her like a comfort she hadn’t realized she needed. She felt his protective embrace, not just for her well-being, but for everything that made her who she was. And in that moment, the ache that had been simmering inside her for so long began to ebb away.

Silco moved his hand to her cheek, his touch gentle but steady. "From now on, when it hurts—when you’re unsure of yourself—you’ll let me know," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. "I’ll make sure you never have to deal with it alone."

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, leaning into his touch, her heartbeat slowing in the quiet of the room. She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time in a long while, she knew she could face it with him by her side.

JINX

It was just another day of scavenging for scraps in the familiar, sunlit corners of Zaun. Y/N had always been quick to find useful materials, able to put together tools and gadgets with ease. That was one of the things she had learned after years of survival in this harsh world. She didn’t let her own feelings—physical or emotional—get in the way of her work. There was too much to be done.

But there was something about today that felt... different.

As Y/N was sifting through some discarded metal, her mind wandered back to her childhood. There had been a lot of moments where pain had been something distant, something not quite real for her. She didn’t know why it was that way. Maybe it was because of how she had grown up, the things she had endured in Zaun’s underbelly. After all, pain was just a sensation, wasn’t it? A signal from the body. And for her, it had always felt... muted. Distant.

She remembered the first time she fell off a high ledge, scraping her knees to the bone. The other kids had yelled at her to get up, but when she did, there was no real sense of hurt. It was like the world had numbed her to it.

Then, there were the moments she had to fight—swinging, slashing, feeling the bones of her enemies break under her hands. But there had been no accompanying sensation, no aftermath of bruises or cuts that told her she had been in pain. She’d gotten used to it, accepted it even, as just part of who she was.

But on this particular day, as she rummaged through the wreckage, she felt a strange tightness in her side, a dull pressure that didn’t seem to go away. She ignored it, keeping herself focused on her task.

She didn’t notice the deep gash in her side until Jinx appeared out of nowhere, bounding over a pile of scrap metal and looking excited as ever.

“Y/N! Look what I found!” Jinx shouted, holding up a mangled piece of machinery.

But then her eyes drifted down to Y/N’s side, and her smile faltered. The bright blue-haired girl’s eyes widened as she darted forward, her voice trembling.

“Y/N, what the hell happened to you?”

Y/N looked at her with a confused expression, not quite understanding what Jinx was pointing at. Jinx grabbed Y/N’s shirt, lifting it up just enough to reveal the injury that had gone unnoticed—an ugly, deep slice running across her ribs, blood soaking through her torn shirt.

Y/N blinked, trying to focus on the injury as if it were a new puzzle she had to figure out. “Oh. I guess I didn’t feel it.”

Jinx’s eyes searched Y/N’s face, her expression a mix of disbelief and anger.

“You didn’t feel it?” Jinx repeated, her voice cracking. “How do you not feel that? It’s... it’s huge, Y/N!”

Y/N looked at the cut again, a strange kind of detachment in her gaze. “I don’t know, Jinx. It’s... been like this for a long time. I don’t really feel pain, I guess.”

Jinx's eyes softened, her usual wild demeanour dimming just a little. She grabbed Y/N’s arm, guiding her towards a nearby corner where she kept some of her own makeshift medical supplies. It was a strange mix of chaotic and precise, but she was good at patching up wounds.

"Okay, this isn't right," Jinx muttered, her tone serious for once. "We gotta fix this."

Y/N gave her a small, almost amused smile. “You’ve always got a solution for everything, don’t you?”

Jinx looked at her, her hands trembling as she began cleaning the wound, almost as if she was trying to will the pain back into Y/N. “You’re not invincible, Y/N. Even if you can’t feel it, this still matters.”

For the first time, Y/N felt the faintest tug of discomfort—an echo of what could be pain, as if Jinx’s worry was enough to reach through the barrier she had built.

She looked at Jinx—this chaotic, unpredictable girl who had always been a little too loud, a little too wild, but was somehow the one person who cared about her in ways that made her feel like she wasn’t just a thing, a tool, or an emotionless machine.

“I guess I never really thought it mattered,” Y/N said quietly. “I’ve always just... kept going, you know? Pain’s never been real for me.”

Jinx finished bandaging the wound, her eyes softening as she looked up. “Well, it matters to me, Y/N. So you better start taking care of yourself, ‘cause I’m not letting you just wander around with cuts like that, okay?”

Y/N nodded, feeling an odd warmth spread through her chest at Jinx’s words. She didn’t know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, Jinx had become someone she didn’t want to disappoint.

“You’re right, Jinx,” Y/N said with a small smile. “I’ll start paying more attention. To myself.”

Jinx grinned at her, eyes bright again. “Good. Because I’m not about to lose you, no matter how tough you are.”

Y/N chuckled lightly, grateful for Jinx’s unexpected tenderness, even if it came wrapped in a chaotic package. Maybe pain wasn’t something she’d ever truly feel, but the care from those around her—well, that was something she’d always take to heart.

#Arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fluff #reader insert #jinx x platonic!reader #jayce x reader #jayce x you #jayce talis x reader #jayce x y/n #viktor x y/n #viktor x reader #jayce x reader x viktor #viktor x you #vander x reader #silco x reader #jayvik x reader

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lightlycareless · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii, can i request a scenario on how naoya (when he has reached a point where he loves wife!reader from an arranged marriage) would react to one day not being greeted at all when he comes home? It is completely silent, no response as he calls for her and is getting a bit worried as he starts searching the rooms. But then he sees her laying on the couch, shivering and sweating from a cold that’s so intense she’s barely lucid and can’t even tell he’s there and talking to her

Heya!!

So... I took some liberties when writing this, kind of went a completely different route (the sick part, alongside worried Naoya still remains though), it just occurred to me when reading your ask, but I hope it's still of your liking 🥺!!!

anyways, here are the warnings: mentions of death, miscarriage, a very concerned and overprotective Naoya, a bit of fluff, and everyone wants to spoil you rotten lol.

And without further ado, happy reading!

“Y/N, I’m home!”

Home.

A word he never really cared for, always considering it sappy, alongside the fondness that was usually assigned to it, which Naoya couldn’t think of as nothing but ridiculous, if not hilariously overrated.

For many years, Naoya thought that a home was simply the place that one was raised in and that’s about it. Nothing of the sentimentality others liked to apply to it, brag about it…

Until, of course, he finally came to understand what the word meant; why it was so special, and why it was important to have one.

A home wasn’t made by the people he knew as family, blood related, found in the place he was forced to be in since he was born, and probably die in—no; it’s the one that was made by the people of his choice, people he met through his course of life, connected with, and now, cherished.

Amongst them, you.

He considered himself lucky to have found the love of his life, a concept he considered so… foreign, impossible for someone like him, if not a stupidity of delusional people desiring more from life.

So was Naoya destined to think for the rest of his existence, condemned by his same family to live a life of loneliness, hatred, and die the same way.

But you’d come to show him otherwise, shockingly, and unexpectedly, and in such a way he couldn’t even put up a fight, completely surrendering to you and the wonderful feelings that being in love with you provided.

Now that he’s experienced them, he couldn’t find the reason as to why his family would ever reproach such beautiful thing as harshly as they did—or that he believed them in the first place…

Well, that’s not something that bothers him anymore; the Zen’in clan could continue on in their hard stuck ways for all he cared; he, on the other hand, plans to spend the rest of his days alongside the woman of his dreams, starting by today, finally back in your arms after days of being pulled into pointless missions after pointless missions, which he would not hear of for a few weeks—having earned a well-deserved break for his consistently good performance.

Naoya even prepared accordingly for the occasion, having bought gifts from all the places he’d been to, as well as ideated ways to distract you from the boring estate and his nagging relatives he knows you don’t enjoy being around with, only tolerating them because they were, well, your in-laws, his family—with exceptions of those you do get along, and for them, he’s grateful that they do.

Ah, he couldn’t wait to see you, your face, and the adorable way it brightens up whenever receiving him.

To tell you of his day while resting his head on your lap, with you passing your fingers through his hair, gently soothing his stresses away as you reassure him that he’s the best sorcerer out there, he’s just… unlucky to bump into lesser talented ones.

Get something to eat too, he’d like his favorite for a start, miso soup—and perhaps have you feed it to him? God, it’s been a while since both have done that, and it’s not because he doesn’t like doing it, or you for that matter, but rather, he doesn’t want to risk being seen by others, it has to be in the utmost privacy, after all! He isn’t to be vulnerable in front of his family!!

Oh, he needs wishes to see you—right now. And he’s absolutely sure you’re feeling the same way…

If so… why hadn’t you responded? Why hadn’t you come to receive him in the same manner you’ve always done?

Naoya knows that his schedule can be a bit… unpredictable, making it difficult for you to know exactly when he’ll come back home—but even then, it didn’t take you that long to meet him after announcing his return.

You’d always come to the entrance, no matter if it happened right that moment, or a bit later; you just… did.

But today… it seems that you opted to break the routine by taking far longer than you usually do.

He’d remain attentive to his surroundings, hoping to either hear your approaching footsteps or voice softly calling for him at a distance, yet as time went on, he was received with neither…. And Naoya only begins to grow more worried.

Your husband tries to not jump to the worst conclusion just yet, opting to think that you were perhaps simply caught up tending to the house, maybe even partaking in an unwanted conversation with one of his relatives and having trouble brushing them off—for no matter the times you’d reminded them that your husband was back, and you needed to be there to receive him, still acted as if it wasn’t that important.

Things that implied that even when running late, you were still ok.

Yet…

“Y/N!” Naoya calls once again, hoping for a change…

…

Silence.

It’s by this time that he decides it’s better to search for you than to stand around and wait for you to magically appear.

Naoya begins by going into the main wing, eyes scanning through the gardens, your usual place of leisure when not busy, where you’d calmly enjoy the diligently tended for flowers (the ones he had changed to your favorite as soon as he found out which ones they were) while snacking on something, or in the company of your loyal staff—if that were the case of your absence, he understood why you didn’t answer.

But he wouldn’t find you near any of the gardens, or anywhere in fact! A statement that weighed even heavier upon finding out that the staff was in the same predicament as him, for when he asked a nearby servant of your whereabouts, he was received with the following answer:

“We haven’t seen her” Naoya’s heart sinks.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen her?” he breathes. “Where could my wife—did she—did she leave the estate?”

No. You… didn’t. Because that’s not what you told him you’d be doing a few hours ago, after letting you know he was on his way back home; if anything, you replied with how excited you were to see him again and that you’d be eagerly waiting for him!

So obviously, their words didn’t make sense. But if so… where were you?

Naoya now frantically searched for you through every wing, room, space, chamber, closet, just— anywhere, literally anywhere you could be while repeatedly calling out your name in hopes of getting a response, or even a glimpse of you; he doesn’t care what at that point, he’s happy with either!

Yet, the longer he went on without an answer, the bigger his sorrow became, to the point where his mind was machinating nothing but the worst-case scenarios, slowly losing his inhibitions as he repeatedly wondered Where were you? How come no one has seen you? Did he have to escalate this situation?

Just—Where are you, Y/N?!

Thankfully, there would be no need to pursue bigger solutions for he’d get his answer soon enough after entering the east wing, passing through the living quarters, and arriving to the laundry room, one of the last places he’d thought you’d be—rightfully guessing so, for you were there, apparently washing whatever garments you had pending, which you hadn’t been able to wash due to a variety of unknown reasons…

But far from feeling elated to have found you, Naoya felt as if whatever he had left of his heart was effectively broken, which felt short compared to the way he found you.

“Y/N!”

The sight that received him is one that will remain imprinted in the back of mind: you were laying on the floor, on your side, tightly clutching to your stomach as you breathed heavily, eyes tightly shut while groaning in what Naoya could only interpret as pain.

As if his worries weren’t through the roof at that point, this last conclusion is what urged Naoya to hastily make way to your side, swiftly kneeling to your level as he calls out for you once more.

“Y/N—Y/N” He’d breathe, firmly yet carefully placing his hands over you with intentions of picking you up, but his hold falters when his fingers briefly graze your skin, making him gasp in return. “Y/N you’re—you’re burning!”

This would be the only time you’d respond to him, barely able to move your head onto his direction, slightly opening your eyes to see him, a gaze that shows how much pain you were going through, barely able to understand what was going on, except for gently breathing the word that makes his heart squeeze out in pain.

“Na—Naoya…”

Any hesitation is effectively thrown out the window by that point, picking you up and rushing you towards their shared bedroom, all while barking orders to the nearby staff, demanding them to call for a doctor, as quickly as possible, unless they wanted to be jobless by the end of the day!

The staff reacts accordingly, and a few minutes later, the family doctor arrives to the estate, guided to your room and seeing that you were already being tended to, or at least that’s the idea he gets from the dampened towel on your forehead, undoubtedly in efforts of lowering your fever—which unfortunately, had been for nothing.

Well, he was there now, and he didn’t waste time either to get to work, quickly assessing your condition by the apparent symptoms, starting by your temperature, the color of your skin, and even the way you reacted to him while doing so, completely uncooperative—apparently, whatever put you in this state had evoked great instability from you, thus the doctor found it necessary to put you under sedatives.

But even when he was able to quickly gain control of the situation, the doctor still couldn’t arrive at a proper conclusion, less when the people around you had an even smaller idea of what struck you.

“I—I don’t know.” Naoya would respond, angrily, frustrated—and rightfully so. How come none of the servants had noticed your absence? Or worse, hadn’t seen anything that could hint as to what your sickness was about?! “Can’t you just—help her?!”

“That’s what I’m trying—I can’t help her if I don’t know what I’m dealing with.” The doctor responded as calmly as he could, but even he had to admit that everyone’s seeming ignorance annoyed him as well. “But I can still say that this seems much more than just a simple… sickness.”

“What do you mean?” Naoya frowns, the doctor looks at the nearby servants, tasked to be on stand-by if needed.

“I’d like to discuss this in private.” He tells them.

The servants don’t wait for Naoya to repeat the order before they’re already out the room and away from their earshot; a request that while didn’t raise any concerns from Naoya —if anything, he was glad their pesky, useless presence, was finally away from you— the doctor’s face was quick to convince your husband that something far worse than what met the eye.

And this made Naoya’s nerves reach a new limit.

“I told you; I don’t know what happened—” Your husband is quick to defend, believing the doctor was to interrogate him once more, only to be interrupted.

“You don’t need to tell me for me to know what happened.” He interjects, Naoya’s eyes widen.

“I’m lost.” Naoya scowls. “Stop talking cryptically and get on with it!”

“I’ve seen these symptoms before, Naoya. And as I said, these are not from a simple sickness, an allergy or any of the matter” He takes a deep breath. “I heavily suspect she was intoxicated—and not accidentally, but rather, intentionally.”

“Excuse me?” Naoya frowns. “I told you to stop talking in riddles, say what you—”

“Poisoned, Naoya. I believe your wife was poisoned.”

Naoya’s world comes to a screeching halt.

You…

You were poisoned.

According to the doctor, you—You were attacked, besieged, with malicious intents.

Taken advantage of in the one place you’d never be on edge, your home, the same one he had repeatedly reassured your father that you’d be safe in—the Zen’in estate, home to the prestigious Zen’in clan! There was no safer place in the whole world! There couldn’t!

No one— no one wouldn’t dare do such a thing here—they knew better! Naoya would force them to now better…

Yet, someone dared to commit this transgression against you.

And to make it all worse….

Almost got away with it.

Who would even think of doing such transgression against you?! You?!

You had no quarrels with anyone, and even when you did, you handled things in such an amicable way just so you’d live peacefully, free of nonsensical arguments—you had no space for them in your life!

And yet, this still happened, and right underneath his nose….

There’s no doubt that he’ll put an investigation into order to find the bastard responsible for your suffering, and once he does, he’ll make him regret his existence, to the point he’ll have him begging for mercy—and even then, it wouldn’t be enough for Naoya.

However, that is something that will have to wait until he knows you’re safe, healthier, which the doctor had slowly began to help you with by giving you something that will immediately trap the poison from being further absorbed by your blood—activated charcoal, so he remembers— as well as some other prescriptions for side effects he wishes to prevent.

“Your wife was very lucky to survive, have you waited a second more—”

“I wasn’t waiting.” Your husband immediately responds, offended by his wording. “I wasn’t aware of this until I returned.”

The doctor presses his lips together, taking notice that throughout his whole visit, Naoya has never left your side, nor freed your hands from his.

“And I’m not surprised.” He silently admits.

Naoya hates the notion the doctor was implying, that this was an inside job. But considering the odd behavior of the staff, their seeming ignorance of your location and your status… it all pointed to that same conclusion.

The boiling fury inside him grows bigger.

“How could this be?” Naoya seethes.

How could someone get this far, this close to you, and no one suspecting a thing?

Your husband might’ve reproached the way the doctor expressed himself, but there was an undeniable truth behind them; he truly was lucky to have gotten back home just when he did, for had he taken a second longer, just one, you could’ve die—

Outside of that, the second most important question regarding this whole situation was…where was your staff? Why, of all days, were they absent?

Naoya is confident that if Mariya, your closest confidant, had been around, this would’ve never happened in the first place; the moment she saw anything out of the ordinary, she would’ve pulled all the stops and acted accordingly.

Yet, she was nowhere to be seen, and this makes Naoya both highly suspicious, and furious.

Where was she? Where are the rest? Why would they leave you in your most needed time? Did they plan this? Plot against you?! Where the hell could they possibly—

“They’re going to be away for the weekend to visit their families.”

He suddenly remembers; you told him so earlier that week through a text.

“Will you be ok?” Naoya also remembers asking; he didn’t feel happy knowing you’d be alone without your most trusted staff.

“It’s just a few days, Naoya. Besides, they deserve a break! I don’t want them to get tired of me, you know?” you laugh. “But you better come back quickly, ok? Just because they’re not around doesn’t mean I like being alone…”

“I won’t take long. I promise.”

If only he’d kept his word…

Well, if that was to be the answer to their absence, then it wasn’t fair to hold any level of animosity towards them, a weight being lifted from his burdened shoulders upon realizing your staff could strill be trusted in.

Now all that was left to worry about is finding the culprit… and the status of that too.

“Is she ok?” Naoya would ask.

“She is, I managed to—”

“No, I mean… that.” Naoya’s voice hints to a silent agreement between the two. “Is… that ok?”

The doctor quickly catches what he means, affirming so by a nod. His reassurance lifts an immeasurable weight from his heart, even greater than the alleged betrayal of Mariya and the rest. One less thing to worry about.

“What now, then?”

“Since the damage was limited, to say the least, it won’t be necessary to move her to a hospital, however—”

She’s still in danger. Naoya concludes. More so if the attack came from someone inside… And what makes him think that just because he’s back they’ll stop trying?

If anything, seeing how close they got, they could try once again!

The mere thought is enough to push him into taking what is perhaps the most radical decision he could’ve taken in this situation, something that might come to torment him in the future, but until then, he won’t care, not even a bit; not when he had your safety to worry about:

That is… Naoya fired everyone, effective immediately.

He took no heed if any of them had been serving the family for years, if they were close friends of his father, or if their livelihood would be affected— Naoya just wanted them out of his sight, the estate, and as soon as possible, less they wanted to receive more of his anger, before continuing with the rest of his plan.

Due to the gravity of said situation, Naoya knew he had to contact your family; he also knew that you would’ve refuted the idea as soon as he mentioned it to you, not wanting to worry them if you’ve truly been attacked, but he couldn’t do this to your father; not when he was amongst the few people in the world he knew had your wellbeing as utmost priority— as well as holding a great amount of respect and appreciation for him, specifically for the way he welcomed him into your family.

Eiichi, your father, had to admit that getting a call from the Zen’in estate that didn’t come from you surely surprised him beyond any comprehension, and yet, that would be nothing compared to the shock he’d get upon knowing the motive behind said call; Naoya swore he almost heard your father passing out, or at least, in the process of.

“Poisoned?!” Eiichi gasped, tightly clutching onto the phone—he might’ve as well passed out and dived into a nightmare! “Is she ok?! Where is she right now?”

“At the estate, with me—the doctor didn’t think it necessary for her to be hospitalized since he was able to stop the poison from spreading any further, but she still needs rest.”

“And the baby?” the referenced secret between Naoya and the doctor; your pregnancy.

“Fine.” He breathes, swallowing. “The doctor didn’t tell me of any damage done to the baby… but I’m—I’m still taking her to the doctor, just—just to be sure.”

“How could this happen?” Eiichi laments, heart breaking not only for you, but for Naoya as well. Your father knew all too well what it was to lose the love of his life, a pain that he would never desire on anyone, not even his own enemies…

One that he could slowly begin to hear in Naoya’s voice; oh, he could only imagine the pain he was going through, or what waited for him if he had lost not only you, but his child too.

But, well, the worst is over… at least for now.

“Someone from the staff did it.” Naoya declares, Eiichi’s heart sinks even further. “But I’ve taken care of it, I’ve fired everyone.”

And your father, contrary to Naoya’s relatives, did not question him. If anything, he seconded his decision, because had he been in your husband’s shoes, he would’ve done the same thing.

“Was her staff involved?” Your father asks, feeling a slight… anger with the idea that the ones you greatly cherished could’ve plotted against you.

“No, they were not; in fact, they were out of the estate when all this went down.” Naoya responds. “But I know that if they had been here, this would’ve never happened in the first place.”

“Bring her here, with me.” Eiichi immediately suggested, Naoya blinks, startled by the idea, if not against it.

“Father—"

“We can take care of her while she’s recuperating, take her to the doctor too. I’ll make sure that she has everything she needs. And not to misjudge your staff, or lack of, but the people here would never hurt her—they’ve known her since she was a child! There won’t be another safer place for her to be than here, Naoya. At least… until she’s better.”

Previously, Naoya would’ve questioned the veracity of his words, done all he could to prove you were much better with him, but after this occurrence… he had to agree.

As much as it hurt him to know you’d be away from him, especially when you were pregnant… he knew this was the right decision to make. He couldn’t expose you to another similar situation—not even if he got a completely new staff… or if you didn’t want to leave.

So, Naoya accepts Eiichi’s suggestion, alongside buying him a ticket for the earliest available flight to Kyoto; a few hours later, your father would arrive to the estate, rushing to your side, keeping you company while tending to your every need as Naoya prepared everything for your departure.

When you eventually regained consciousness, you were (although a bit surprised) overwhelmingly elated to see your father visiting you, for it had been so long since you’d seen him, probably around the time you announced your pregnancy!

However, that excitement would soon diminish when Naoya told you why he was there… alongside the cryptic explanation of your “sickness.”

“It was an allergy.” Naoya would say, not wanting to stress you by the fact that you were intentionally poisoned, although that excuse did little to stop you from doing so. “Rare, but it can happen, especially with pregnant women.”

“An allergy…? But I didn’t…” you frown.

“It happened to your mother, once.” Eiichi followed Naoya’s lead. He hated lying to you, but… he concurred that keeping you safe, both mentally and physically, was worth doing so. “It’s nothing but hormonal changes, so don’t worry much about it.”

“I guess…” you frown, pressing your lips. “But that still doesn’t explain why I have to leave.”

“We need to check what caused your allergy” Naoya responds. “It might be something about the food, the flowers, or even the wood; I rather you be safe than to go through that scare again.”

“But is… all this really necessary?” Naoya gives you a tight smile and a nod. “Naoya, I—"

“It’s not all bad, Y/N.” Naoya says.

“Besides, don’t you want to spend time with your papa? It’s been so long since I’ve spent time with my adorable pumpkin!” Eiichi laments.

“Dad!” you gasp, flustered by his words. “Don’t—don’t say that in front of Naoya…”

“What? It’s true! And that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do since I learned I’m going to be a grandfather!”

“Stop it!” your face becomes redder. “You’re embarrassing me!”

Naoya chuckles; it’s not like he’s seen you in… worse situations. Or better?

“But… I guess a visit is overdue.” You eventually concede, Naoya and your father sigh out of relief. “Though what about Mariya, Haruko, and Hitomi?”

“They’ll go with you, if you want.” Naoya says; he doubts they’ll say no, especially after knowing of the whole fiasco that occurred when away, might even offer themselves before he suggests the idea.

“If I didn’t know any better, sounds like you want me gone.” You jest, Naoya frowns. “It’s a joke, of course…”

“There’s nothing more I would like than you staying here, but until we figure out what caused that reaction from you, I’d rather not risk it.”

“It’s only temporary, Y/N. Besides, look—I brought you gifts!” Eiichi says, taking out the bag he brought from home seemingly out of nowhere, filled with things he knew you’d love, such as sweets, your favorite mochi’s of course, alongside some plushies that would always brighten your day when you were a child. “And there’s much more back home…”

Naoya can’t help but feel relieved you had your father for support, but at the same time, a bit jealous and, well, threatened. Not for bad reasons, of course, it was simply because how the hell did he not think of bringing you gifts first?!

“Dad… you’re embarrassing me in front of Naoya.”

“Ah, that’s a parent’s bane, isn’t it? To always embarrass their children—you’ll see what I mean when you both have your baby.”

Perhaps the main reason why you ended up agreeing to leave was because your pregnancy did not seem affected by your supposed allergy; had it been you would’ve refused to leave your husband’s side!

… Well, you still would’ve refused either way, but perhaps a bit more. You hate the idea of being away from the father of your child for too long, after all.

“I don’t think so—Naoya and I are going to be the cool parents, you’ll see.”

“That’s what your mom and I thought, and look at me now, can’t even say anything without you telling me I’m embarrassing you!” Eiichi says, you chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mom was cool! You were always the funny one!”

Naoya smiles.

Now he knows for sure that there’s no safer place for you to be in than with your family, even if that were to be on the other side of the country…

After Naoya prepared everything for your departure, the three eventually made way to the exit, where you and your father would bid their last goodbyes.

“Won’t you accompany me?” you ask, a slight pout on your face, he smiles in hopes to cheer you up, but really, he felt miserable.

“I want to, but I can’t.” He explains. “I have to deal with this as fast as possible if you’re to come back quickly.”

“… Will you visit me over there, at least?” you frown.

“Yes. As soon as I have a chance, I’ll go see you.” Naoya promises.

It had all been too soon, just a few hours ago he arrived at the estate, and now, you’re leaving. Naoya laments that he couldn’t spend a day with you before your departure… but he guesses this to be a rightful sacrifice for your well-being.

“I wouldn’t dream of keeping away from my wife and baby for too long.”

At those words, Eiichi couldn’t help but frown out of sorrow.

It wasn’t fair that neither of you had been able to enjoy this wonderful occasion as you should.

He still remembers the excitement in your voice, the glint in your eye, and the beaming smile on your lips when announcing your pregnancy—alongside the nerves that came with it, of course, which Eiichi eased by reminding you and Naoya that their enthusiasm was nothing but indicative they were already on their way of becoming the loving and supportive parents their baby needed.

But as excited as both were, Eiichi had to cruelly put a stop to their celebrations, especially after Naobito was made aware of this, who wished to proceed by announcing the news to the whole community.

“I have to disagree, Naobito.” Eiichi would be the first to reject the idea, much to everyone’s surprise—yours, specifically.

“And why is that?” He’d ask back, not understanding why the father of the expecting mother, of all people, would be the one to reject so.

“It’s best if Y/N keeps her pregnancy a secret, at least… until it’s undeniably noticeable.”

“But… why, dad?” you asked. This was a moment of absolute joy, to be treated as such! So why did he intend to keep it a secret? Was he… disappointed?

No. Never. He was nothing but happy to see you happy and become a grandfather himself for the first time in his life!

But as a man of his years, he’s learned to be cautious of how said blessings are to be celebrated, as well as seen his fair share of happiness turn sour… things that Eiichi would rather take upon him than allow them to ever befall you.

“Because there’s people out there that might try to hurt you—or the baby.” He’d explain. “Naobito cannot not deny this, but if anyone hears that you’re pregnant with the Zen’in heir’s baby, those that want to hurt the Zen’in clan, or our family, will see this as the perfect opportunity to do so.”

“I’d never allow such thing, rest assured, there’s no safer place than—” Naoya quickly interjects, wanting to reassure your father, but Eiichi was set on his warnings.

“I wouldn’t have said this if I didn’t see it myself.” Eiichi reminds him, Naoya swallows. “We live in a highly competitive world due to the nature of our families; I’ve lost my wife because of this! And I’d be damned to allow it to happen again to my daughter.”

He hated to remind you of the harsh truth; hated to see how your face would sadden, the excitement for your first child, his first grandchild, quickly disappearing…

“Why would someone do that?” you murmur, frowning.

“They wouldn’t dare—I’ll make sure of it.” Naoya hisses.

Eiichi remained silent, sad for you and your husband. Because even if you’ve experienced first-hand what it is to lose someone through these matters, both have yet to fully understand the extremes those supposedly loyal to them can go to if properly incited. Especially for someone who had so much to lose, just as the elite members of prestigious Zen’in clan.

Even then, your father would not allow such pain to reach you, not the same way it almost did to him and your mother, so, he insisted you keep these news secret from the world—and if you must, only if you must, reveal it to your most faithful ones; the rest could learn when your stomach was too big to deny.

If you do so, keep your baby hidden from the world, safe from those that harbor nothing but pain and sorrow… all will be fine. Eiichi promises so.

…

Or so, that’s what everyone hoped would’ve happened, because if there’s one thing to be learned from this incident, is that no matter how cautious you were, word of your pregnancy still managed to land in the wrong ears, and now, were actively against it.

The question no longer pertained as to how, but rather, who; who was the author of this terrible act?

The notion that someone of Naoya’s relatives, indirectly informed through Naobito’s… drunken rambles, soon crosses the minds of your father and husband. If so, it would make sense as to why they’d use an innocent staff member to do the deed, keep their hands clean of the whole situation, instead of going to bigger extremes.

It’s the most probable of the theories, but they could not annul the following: jealousy from the servants.

Naoya considered that statement to be the most delusional one your father could’ve gathered, but he’d be wise to remember how others perceive him—or more like what he represented. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched that others would desire what he had, or him, in some cases. And naturally, you’re an obstacle to that goal, your baby even more so…

It wasn’t fair, but it was your reality.

Nonetheless, Eiichi and Naoya will still do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

“It’s just for a few days, pumpkin.” Your father would say upon seeing the sadness in your face, which remained even when reassured that Naoya would be with you as soon as possible. “Besides, you’re going to see your brother and sister too—they’ve missed you very much, you know? They’ve been wanting to spoil you and their future niece, or nephew!”

You smile, it’s good that even when in the storm, your family is still able to exude happiness. You could only imagine how enthusiastic they’d be when the baby was finally here.

“I know… I missed them too.” You admit, before looking over to Naoya one last time. “Well… I hope that whatever is keeping you here is quickly dealt with.”

“You won’t even notice I’m gone.” Naoya promises, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything—before you know it, you’ll be back at the estate, with me.”

That’s a promise he unfortunately, doesn’t know if will become true inside the promised timeline, but will do anything in his power so it does.

Either way, it’s safe to say that Naoya did manage to keep one part of his promise—and that would be the one where he reassured you wouldn’t even notice his absence, done through sending you endless amounts of gifts, every day, effectively filling your room to the brim with all things he’d knew you’d like, and some for baby too: from clothes for you, to cute onesies he’d like his baby to wear when she was finally here.

“You still think the baby is going to be a girl?” you’d ask through one of the many videocalls he’d make—one daily, at the very least. “Wait a minute… you better not have spoiled me!”

“I just know” He reiterates with shrug; you roll your eyes. “If not, then I’ll have lots of things to return.”

“Well, if it’s worth anything, I also feel like our baby is going to be a girl.” You smile, warming up Naoya’s heart. “I can’t wait to meet her—I just know she’s going to have your eyes!”

“Or yours, I hope.” He longs, you blush. “Have you been eating well, my love?”

“Yes; and no allergies yet.” You explain, Naoya feels relieved—at least the problem didn’t follow you there. “Maybe I was just unlucky that day, Naoya… Are you sure I can’t return to the estate yet?”

“Not until I’m sure you’re going to be safe here.” Naoya responds, and while his words are meant to be comforting, you can’t shake off the sense that something worse happened; that something far bigger than a simple allergy had struck you, specially with the way your staff and family would act around you, going as far as denying you of any information pertaining to the Zen’in.

But… if your husband had a reason to not say anything now, then the best you could do is trust him. The truth will come out eventually, you suppose. So instead you could focus on other pressing matters.

“Well, at least don’t send me too many gifts.” You continued. “While I appreciate them, between you and my father, I don’t think my house has enough room to store all the things you’ve both given me.”

“Who’s given you more things? Me or your dad?” Naoya nonchalantly asks, you gasp.

“Naoya! That’s not the—take it seriously! Control yourself with the gifts, ok?” you say, he chuckles, but ends up agreeing; at least until the topic has quieted down, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to let your father win the upper hand like that one day ever again. “Or at least save them to when I’m back at the estate… which I hope is soon.”

“Almost there.” Naoya says. “Just a few more things, and we’ll be together once again.”

… even if the answer was to be the same, you still needed to ask.

“Is… everything ok?”

Not precisely, not when he has yet to find out the one responsible for all this…

But he’s gotten a lead, an idea of where to start, of who to hunt—which he knows he’ll find in record time thanks to the fury he harbors, further motivating him to do this as quickly and precisely as possible just so he’d have you back home, with him.

“Nothing you should worry about.” He reiterates. “Just keep focusing on your health, the baby, and not doing anything strenuous.”

“I’m just pregnant, Naoya… nothing extraordinary. I still want to help around., you know?”

“I know, and you’ll be able to do that and more in due time, but for now, keep safe, for me, ok? And our little mochi.”

“When will I see you again?” you ask again, hoping that perhaps this time around, the answer will be different.

“Soon.” He promises. “Soon, my love.”

Once he deals with the bastard that hurt you.

Naoya will give them nothing but a glimpse of the sorrow and pain they’d put you through, his fury—make their life a living hell, make them regret the foolish idea that they could ever get away from it; and still, he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with his revenge.

He’d want more, he’d want everyone to know that his family are not ones to mess around with.

He’d burn the whole world to set the message across if necessary—and that would only be the bare minimum for you, the love of his life, and now, his baby…

His home.

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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aromacaque · 6 months ago

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Quick S5 Analysis and Theory

I AM GOING TO RAMBLE ANALYSIS BECAUSE THEY ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY

I cannot stop thinking about the way Wukong reacts to Macaque when he goes "oh no 'gee thanks for saving me macaque!...'" cause if this were before the S5E2, he would have snapped back at him, like he always does.

We know Macaque does this solely to rile Wukong up. It's how we're introduced to his character in S1E9 and he does it throughout the series. This is why he did it here too (or at least partially), BUT WUKONG DOESN'T TAKE THE BAIT THIS TIME.

While he's obviously still reeling from seeing the memory of their fight he was forced to watch,

you can still see that, for a split second, Wukong almost does snap back, but he instantly rethinks that and decides to be passive

Macaque, again, pokes at him trying to get a reaction, but this time Wukong doesn't even think about snapping back. He simply responds casually/lightly (before then realizing that MK is in danger)

This tells us possibly two really important things

Macaque sacrificing himself in S5E2 was a turning point for Wukong's perception of him. An increase in personal trust/faith/etc.

2. Seeing the memory of their fight made him rethink his behavior toward Macaque

For the rest of the season, they don't get a lot of moments because of, well, Everything, but we see Wukong is not only more willing to show concern for his wellbeing, but also seems to be more open/emotionally vulnerable in front of him than before (in little moments, anyway).

Granted that has been building up since S4E11, arguably before that but I'm not going to deep dive analyze season 3. He's being more communicative with Macaque in S5E1 about MK too. In other words, not completely shutting him out or pushing him away, which seems like their natural progression from S4E11 as well.

All of that being said, this brings me to The Scene. Which I am completely normal about because there's so much to unpack about it and I am so normal about that. Evidently.

First of all, they wanted to hold hands during their final moments. MK and Macaque are the two most important people in Wukong's life, I feel like that speaks for itself.

BUT it's Wukong who reaches out here.

This is Wukong's first major attempt to bridge the gap between them, at least in such a direct way. In my opinion, it's almost a wordless forgiveness on top of acknowledging how Macaque has changed and improved himself, as well as his reciprocation of that behavior. He wants to fix their relationship too, just as he has seen Macaque willing to do the same.

This moment being interrupted was actually a good thing. It's a good visual reminder that, despite them both wanting to reconcile, they aren't Quite there yet. There's still a lot left unsaid between these two, most importantly Macaque's death. (I'LL GET TO THAT. HOLD THAT IN YOUR BRAIN)

For macaque, this moment has another important meaning.

AND NOW I GET TO TALK ABOUT ONE OF MY FAVORITE WRITING TOOLS HELLO PARALLELS!!!!

In S2E7 we are introduced to this shot of Wukong on a pedestal over Macaque, turning his back on him and abandoning him. This is firmly established in that episode as one of the main reasons Macaque resents Wukong.

He is also portrayed as above him, subsequently nodding at Macaque feeling inferior to him.

In S4E11, we actually watch how this dynamic destroys their friendship. It is a MAJOR reason for their falling out. Macaque feels neglected, overlooked, ignored. Promises are broken and trust is lost. To him, Wukong is selfish, self-righteous, egotistical, uncaring, etc.

Obviously we as the audience are aware Macaque has a rather skewed perception of Wukong that seems to be influenced by his projection of his own insecurities, but that is a whole other analysis for a different time.

In S5E10, this shot is paralleled. Visually demonstrating that Wukong isn't forgetting about him this time. He looks for him. Macaque is being considered in a way he had previously believed was lacking in their friendship.

Not only that, but they are on level ground. Balanced and equal.

Macaque is reluctant to reach back out. His trust in Wukong is practically non-existent, has been for a while (understandably), so it's a little hard for him, but he reciprocates because, like Wukong, he's acknowledging that he has changed. He wants to try to fix this too.

TO RECAP!

They know they both want to fix things

They can see and have acknowledged changes in their behavior on both sides

Wukong seems to be less prone to arguing back, which will most likely make Macaque less likely to try and provoke him. All in all, they will be more civil with each other and most likely argue much less.

They are being held back by things left unsaid.

WHICH LEADS ME TOO...

WHERE DOES THIS LEAD THEM IN S6?

The obvious is they need to address Macaque's death. If they don't do it in this season it's bad writing and they are dragging it out for too long. It's the obvious natural progression here.

This is where they will have an actual, long overdue constructive conversation. It is literally singlehandedly the only thing preventing them from reconciling at this point.

Now, the problem, is how this would happen. Because we all know neither of them are going to randomly apologize out of nowhere. It's gonna take something to push them into that direction. And that should be how it happens otherwise it'd most likely feel forced in the script.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO A THEORY. A GAME THEO-

I'm not going to get into the nitty-gritty details of this particular theory, but just know that I am a firm believer in the "Macaque was consumed by his own powers and that's what killed him" theory. I do think Wukong played a substantial role in his death, enough for Macaque to reasonably believe Wukong killed him, but ultimately it was less Wukong directly killing him and more indirectly causing it and not saving him.

That being said, Wukong and Macaque's relationship is a major subplot in this show with a considerable amount of focus. They have been slowly building to their inevitable mending relationship since Macaque's first episode, which means that they're going to want to reach that climax in a pivotal emotional moment. Not a random conversation smacked into an episode.

And what is going to be plot-relevant next season??

MACAQUE'S CHAOS POWERS.

S5 built up to Macaque being an established member of the group

(Also the VO here being "change can be terrifying" is absolutely foreshadowing to some degree)

Now, there's also something else I need to address. Macaque has gone out of his way 3 separate times, 4 if you count the LBD fight, to save Wukong. On the other hand, Wukong obviously cares about Macaque, but ultimately hasn't had many opportunities or reasons to try to save him specifically.

With all of those details in mind, I think Wukong will need to take direct action by either saving him/protecting him/etc. because I think it would be a high-stakes moment that inevitably kickstarts an apology/conversation between them. Maybe it's something that reminds Wukong of their fight or that macaque can die (hence the chaos powers potentially harming Macaque in some manner or maybe a potential difficulty controlling them reminds Wukong of their fight, something along these lines).

Why this route?

Macaque has regained Wukong's trust. He basically says as much in S5E2. And while it's fairly obvious with Macaque's behavior and choices that he has learned from his past mistakes and is working on his faults, he definitely needs to acknowledge his wrongdoings. However, I think that would naturally happen during any conversation they may have (or the aftermath) regarding his death and their feelings.

That leaves Wukong because he made a promise to Macaque that they’d spend eternity together and that he would protect him and their home. A promise he broke multiple times and has not made up for yet. He needs to mend that and make it right to solidly regain Macaque's trust in order to reconcile.

#lego monkie kid #shadowpeach #sun wukong #macaque #skull's analyses

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sickkonline · 1 year ago

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i think we as a fandom should talk about this scene more

i believe that this is the first time that gon really gets a glimpse into just how much killua cares for him. all of killuas previous affections have been either while gon’s away or purposely hidden from him by killua himself…

so, gons reaction here is something that really REALLY GETS ME.

He’s shocked! he’s so surprised! killua has NEVER acted like this before, always calm and collected.

what does this say about what gon believes he is to killua? we, the audience, obviously know that killua holds gon on the highest pedestal, light itself yadda yadda. but gon? gon has NO clue that killua thinks all of that! from gon’s point of view, killua is just his bestie that tags along, nothing more. i don’t think gon believes he means a lot to killua, i don’t think he knows he means a lot to anyone, besides aunt mito, maybe.

after this fact, gon can’t get it off of his mind! he’s worried about killua, if he’s okay, that’s how ABNORMAL killua CARING is to him.

you could even draw that into the insult chapter, why gon reacts the way he does, why he truly believes killua DOES NOT care about kite.

their miscommunications get me EVERYTIME.

also: since killua has always gone to great lengths to hide his fierce protectiveness over gon, he must have been SO damn stressed while entering ngl!! killua letting lose like this is rare (well, in later chapters we get his BREAKDOWNS and shit, but he would NEVER do that in front of gon.)

i do believe that killua wanted to act alone simply on the fact that A. he wants to protect gon B. because it’s simply easier for him to work alone.

i think reason B is less likely because killua KNEW he would bump into soldier ants eventually. we know that killugon working together can make quick work of soldier ants. they work perfectly in sync.

however i think gon’s response is what affected their relationship the most.

nothing.

he does not promise killua that he won’t help people he sees dying. killua most likely just views this as just Gon being Gon, goodness and all.

however, since this is the first time killua has expressed concern for gon TO gon, and he is immediately shot down and ignored, his fear to open up in later chapters makes complete sense.

Gon does not get another word out about it besides his “Killua…” (gay asf if you ask me.) While gon is worried about the citizens, he’s worried about killua more.

also: the next time gon hears from killua is when killua calls him after being MISSING for a while, we don’t hear a lot about it, but you’ve all seen how Gon reacts once killua finally calls him.

he was SO worried!! and this ontop of killua being potentially hurt or dead, guilt must have been eating Gon alive. i imagine he wouldn’t want their last conversation to be an argument.

anyway: they make me sick, i think about this a lot.

#killugon #hunter x hunter #gon freecss #hxh #killua #killua zoldyck #gon

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halfbaked00q · 29 days ago

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thinking about, like... the exploration of James Bond × the tangled messy web of complications he'd pick up around sex given like past relationships and also the inherently fucky sexual politics of honeypot missions and etc.

it's like. when your body is as much a tool in your aresenal as any of your skills so you're able to handle/tolerate/work through levels of what, in another context, may be considered personal violations, that would be overwhelming to untrained civvies-- but at the same time that very training that gives you some level of divide/partition/insulation from said trespasses on your person, also rather inherently creates bifurcations in your autonomy which then conversely and maybe ironically, still unavoidably act as violations against your personhood

the interesting added layer to that is to go deeper into exploring how honeypotting is/can be inherently traumatic not just to the victim but also the perpetrator, and the resulting psychological effects on the honeypotting agent

anyway here are some fics that I either reread recently, or I remember noting about, that go into these topics

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Further Reading / Web-Weaving / "You May Also Like":

This fic imo does a great job of exploring/interweaving PTSD through the narration in an organic-feeling, believable, and very visceral way. Towards the end-ish of the currently available chaps there's a section where Bond is thinking about sex and like doomspiraling cuz he's assuming what Q would want and having a crisis about it because he's like, I can't provide that without panicking or dissociating - which I find suuuuuper interesting and complex, and it's especially interesting to have this level of exploration on the subject from Bond's POV.

the specific aspect I find really interesting about this is the way I can see this Bond as becoming, like.... desensitized? in a sense, to sex, on a more emotional level, but also how it becomes even in general sort of a trauma in itself, with his concerns about either reacting violently to a trigger, or dissociating during the act and how he worries if that happens that Q will find it hollow and falling short.

the dissociating bit really sticks out to me because it reminds me of an anecdote my high school psych teacher told about a friend of hers who through therapy realized that she was dissociating during sex with her husband and like mentally taking a walk down.. some sidewalk or other, but basically I can't remember if any other fic had this like, aspect of explicitly mentioning dissociating (others do talk about like him going a bit dead-eyed when putting on his TM Seduction act which is like adjacent to this, but not like specifically from inside Bond's head reflecting on this specific type of trauma response)

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Has this banger section that, like, puts the *points above* into words from a third party's POV:

“Part of what makes it work -- with Scar and me -- is that I have no expectations on that front, so she doesn’t have to... perform. It’s second nature to them, to figure out what you want and give it to you…” The pause was horrible, and her expression deeply sad. “Whether it’s what they want or not.” Q felt a little sick. People sometimes joked about the honeypot missions, calling them ‘plush’ or talking as though they were somehow easier. Q had never really thought about it, except to think that it wouldn’t be easy for him. But now…

---

the warmth of your doorways:

has whole sections of James reflecting introspectively on honeypot missions. also has the added spicy layer of James being tapped to train/guide the guy who is meant to replace him for honeypot missions, and the added turbulance of all that (this fic also has a lot going for it on other levels that I enjoy a lot- this post us just specifically about JB × his fucked up sex politics stuff)

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Bond and Q talk about sex stuff and Q is horrified to realize how bad Bond's training for honeypotting male targets was, which eventually leads to them talking about sexualuties, which leads to Q introducing Bond to the Kinsey scale lmao, and etc. also this banger from the author in the comments:

Craig has this one facial expression that makes me think, as Q put it in my fic, like Bond's soul has wandered off and left him behind. We see it occasionally when he's laying in wait to kill but most commonly when he's seducing a female mark. The best example of the face I mean is when he's seducing the widow in Spectre. It's a little dispassionate, a lot distant and it really makes me think very hard about what that means. To me, that facial expression makes me think perhaps Bond has a certain distance from his own actions. His body belongs to England, he is Her weapon and he will do as She needs.

#00q #once again. PLEASE read these but also after you read these pleeeaaase come and Talk To Me about all of this #I love this topic it's my 5x5 rubix cube I am rotating in my brain

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such-expensive-mistakes · 1 year ago

Text

Superpham AU (part 6)

Masterpost

Lois prides herself at being good at rolling with the unexpected. Unfortunately, all of her experience with aliens and supervillains and magic has not prepared her for Danny.

Danny has a disconcerting habit of dropping disturbing or traumatizing information in an off-hand way, seeming to not even realize the implications of his own words. It started with what he said about the dimension he'd grown up in discriminating against people with powers, then with what he'd said about the red son and the lack of superheroes, but it just keeps happening.

Lois tries not to call attention to it, because she prefers it to the alternative, which is Danny shutting himself up in his room and refusing to talk to any of them.

Lex Luthor is on the nightly news-- as he so often is-- and Lois has to explain the man's many crimes to Danny. (No, Jon, it is not a rant.)

"Oh," Danny says. "He sounds like Vlad."

"Vlad?" Lois asks.

"Yeah, Vlad Masters. He's my godfather. He's a total fruitloop who wanted to marry my mom and make me his son."

Lois carefully does not react. She wants Danny to tell her things. She wants to know what his life was like when she wasn't in it. "That sounds..."

"Yeah, he tried to clone me. Well, I guess he succeeded, but none of them were stable except for Ellie, and she wasn't really that stable to begin with."

"Ellie?"

"Yeah, short for Danielle. She went by Dani-with-an-I for a while, but she decided she wanted her own name."

That is not the part Lois was looking for clarification on. She goes with it anyway. "Tell me about her," Lois says, and tries not to be concerned about Danny’s descriptions of a teenage girl who apparently lives and travels on her own because she doesn't like to be stuck in one place. Ellie doesn't even get the full benefit of being quarter Kryptonian, living in a world with a red sun.

The four of them are sitting down to dinner-- pizza again; one of them should probably cook sometime this week, but Lois and Clark are both on deadlines-- when Clark asks Danny more about his adoptive family, the ones he grew up with.

He looks sad, the way he always does whenever his adoptive parents come up. Lois can hardly blame him, when he lost them in such a sudden and traumatic way.

"They're scientists," Danny says. "Or they were. They studied, um, the Ghost Zone and the things that live there. They didn't really understand it at first-- they thought all the-- um, everything from there was evil and needed to be killed, but they learned they were wrong eventually."

Lois meets Clark's eyes and knows he is as concerned about what happened before that 'eventually' as she is. Still, neither of them comment, not wanting Danny to clam up again..

Jon, however, has no such reservations. "That's really messed up."

Danny shrugs. "Yeah, kind of. They came around, though. And I think they blamed themselves for how bad the GIW got because they were the ones who designed the weapons."

"The GIW?" Lois asks, instead of what she really wants to know, which is: Your adoptive parents designed weapons to be used against beings from another dimension??? Did they know what you were?

"Guys in White," Danny says. "I don't think that was their real name, but they were from the government."

"Your parents built weapons for them?" Clark asks, his tone deceptively light. "I thought they were scientists."

"They dabbled in a lot of things. But they were fantastic engineers." Danny segues into a story about some of the modifications his adoptive parents made to their car, which is a topic only slightly better for Lois's heart.

Later that night, Lois is sitting in bed, checking her emails on her phone, when Clark sits down next to her and turns on the white noise machine they keep on the nightstand. (It's the only way to have private conversations when your child-- children-- have super-hearing.)

"I'm concerned about Danny," he says.

"No shit." The more Danny tells them about the dimension he grew up in, the more Lois hates it. "But there's nothing we can do now except be there for him."

"I know people who have traveled across dimensions, you know," Clark says. "I could always ask for a favor."

"You won't," Lois says. "Because if you do, I'm going to end up committing felonies in another dimension."

Clark smiles humorlessly. "What makes you think I wouldn't be there with you?"

"Because you're a better person than I am." Clark never believes her when she says that, but it's true. Clark is a fundamentally good person. Lois tries to be a good person, but there's a reason she's not a superhero.

-----

Kon intended to stop by Metropolis several days ago. Or at least call Clark back. But he’d gotten sidetracked by an earthquake in Southeast Asia, and then by Dr Light causing problems in California.

He gets a few hours of sleep back in Smallville, then remembers that he’d planned on dropping by Metropolis and meeting Danny days before. He walks the last few blocks to Lois and Clark’s house— flying would be way too noticeable in their neighborhood— and lets himself in. He walks up to the living room and spots Lois there, furiously typing on her laptop.

Kon is man enough to admit, at least within his own head, that Lois kind of intimidates him. Sure, Clark is physically stronger, but there’s an intensity to Lois that Clark lacks. She glances up at Kon, and even though she’s smiling, he still feels pinned under her gaze.

Kon shifts uncomfortably, reminds himself that unless he turns into a corrupt businessman or something, he’s not actually in danger from Lois Lane.

“You here to see Danny?” she asks.

“Yeah.” Kon shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “I figured I should probably meet him.”

“He’s in his room,” Lois says. “He’s not… It’s not a good day, but maybe he’ll talk to you. He hasn’t exactly gotten the chance to be around anyone his own age since he showed up.”

Kon knocks on the door to Danny’s room.

“Come in,” a voice calls from inside.

Kon’s first thought is that he looks more like Clark than Danny does. Stupid; of course he does. He’s Clark’s clone. But then, Jon resembles Clark almost as strongly as Kon does, so maybe it wasn’t a completely stupid thought.

Danny is sprawled on his stomach across his bed, phone in his hand. There’s a video playing on it— someone talking about the history of the Justice League— but he’s ignoring it, watching Kon with a wary expression. The room is still as bland as it ever was; other than the clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor, there’s no sign a teenage boy lives here.

“I’m guessing you’re Kon?”

“That’s me.” They stare at each other awkwardly for a moment.

“Have you actually seen any of Metropolis, or have you just been hanging out in here?” Kon asks.

“Lois took me shopping for some stuff,” Danny says.

“Okay, no,” Kon says. “You have got to get out of this house.”

“You don’t even live in Metropolis,” Danny says.

Kon shrugs. “Doesn’t matter; I’ve spent more time here than you.” There’s an old-school arcade he’s been to a handful of times, and a couple of places to eat. Anything has got to be better than Danny hanging out and brooding in this sad bedroom by himself.

It's a warm day outside. The sun shines down on the two of them as they walk in near-silence toward downtown. The awkward silence doesn't quite break until they're at the arcade, competing on an old racing game.

"I don't think we have this one in my dimension. The other dimension. Whatever." Danny says.

"Yeah?" Kon speeds ahead of Danny in the game, just in time to cross the finish line. Danny groans.

"Yeah, but this world doesn't seem to have Doomed, either," Danny says as they start another race. "There's a lot of little differences like that."

"That's gotta be weird," Kon says.

"Yeah, Clark kind of freaked out when I told him the sun there was red."

Yeah, Kon can see why. They talk more as they play more video games, and Danny tells Kon about his friends and what they'd do when they were hanging out in his hometown of Amity Park. The main people he talks about are his best friends, Sam and Tucker, and his older sister, Jazz, but he mentions a few others.

"Wait, who is Ellie again?" Kon asks, after Danny shares a story about a prank she pulled on another kid at Danny's school. They've left the arcade, and are hanging out at the diner a few blocks away. It's not the coolest place-- in fact, it looks like a grandmother decorated it-- but Clark introduced Kon to it, and it has great food.

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" Danny asks. "She's my clone."

Kon chokes a little on his soda. "You have a clone?"

-----

Danny is probably being paranoid.

Scratch that, he's definitely being paranoid. Lois and Clark have been nothing but nice, and they're clearly used to weird things happening. Like, even aside from the whole alien superhero thing, Lois just saw a kid fall out of a portal and decided to help? Plus, Clark is an actual superhero.

Even his— the Fentons came around on the whole “ghost powers” thing. Eventually. But he’s gotten used to hiding, to trying to blend in.

(And what had them accepting him done for them in the end? They’re dead, the GIW killed them.)

He’d rather hide than suddenly discover that Lois and Clark aren’t cool with their long-lost son being half dead.

Some of his powers he can pass off as Kryptonian— super strength, flight, enhanced senses. He knows Lois saw his ghost form, and though she hasn’t asked about it, he’s pretty sure it’s just a matter of time.

These thoughts circle through his mind over and over, only leaving him temporarily when he’s hanging out with the Lane-Kents.

His bio family.

That’s not much better, though; there’s a sadness in Lois and Clark’s eyes whenever they look at him, although they try to hide it. Jon just a kid, and clearly doesn’t know what to make of the whole situation. Lois keeps saying they are going to introduce him to more people, especially people his own age, but Danny shies away from that. He doesn’t want to meet more people. He doesn’t want to get comfortable here.

Still, he’s glad he came out with Kon. An afternoon of videogames and greasy food hasn’t solved any of his problems, but it’s a nice break, and Kon has already promised to introduce Danny to his friends— a whole team of teenage superheroes.

“I can’t get over how many heroes there are here,” Danny says. “Like, why do you even need that many?” Sure, it would have been nice to have some more backup when he was Phantom, but in this world there seems to be at least one superhero for every major city, plus some extra.

Kon shrugs. “Natural disasters, alien invasions, supervillains, street crime… No one can handle all of it.”

Out of all the things he’s encountered so far in this dimension, this might be Danny’s favorite. Even more than the proven existence of aliens. Back home, Amity Park needed Phantom, even if they hated him. But the world here doesn’t need Phantom.

It’s kind of freeing, and Danny hates it. He doesn’t want to like anything about this dimension more than his own.

Would it really be that bad? You might be stuck here forever, a little voice inside his head whispers.

He ignores it.

#superpham au #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #I know some folks wanted a confrontation between Clark and Danny about Kon #but that's not really the vibe of this fic #and I think a lot of other people have done it better anyway #i'm not 100% in love with this section but I think it's good enough for now

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