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kenwio · 15 days ago

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Joker's kid! reader and how they life in manor started

Author's note 1: This part is huge, and it was a huge struggle for me to write (and rewrite), so I apologize if it feels crumpled T^T and there will be other author's notes

Warnings: long read, grammar mistakes (English is not my first language), mental issues, abuse

Bruce knew that eventually you will leave the madbay, you were there long enough to heal, but he had no idea how to bring you to the manor and he can't predict your reaction, seeing your reaction of everything in medbay, your confusion and fear that you showed looking at the simplest things. But other things concerned him even more.

Firstly, he knew that taking you to manor would include revealing of his identity to you, and identities of rest of the family. Secondly, the family.... he was worried about how they would react on you being there. So far, non of the kids interacted with you, and only Dick visited you while you were in the medbay, but he never saw you awake, thanks for the side effects of medicine that made you incredibly sleepy. And thirdly, you were a child of a villain, who knows what you are capable of? So what if you seemed harmless in the madbay? Plus, Bruce knew Tim and Jay expected only bad for you and Damians opinion of you was as bad if not worse somehow. Bruce knows it's going to be tough and he is not sure he can deal with it

Today was the day he would let you see his face and lead you up to the mansion. So, why did the world greatest detective was feeling icky? Was he afraid of you? No, you are just a kid, yes Joker's kid, but still a kid. Was he afraid your potential reaction? Not really, but he was troubled that he could predict it.

Maybe you didn't really show emotions, which was concerning, but also was made him feel more at ease, since you didn't show any signs of acting like your father.

You were sitting at your bed in medaby staring at your blurred reflection in the mirror. You couldn't clearly see yourself, but you were sure you looked a bit different and the clothes you were wearing now, simple t-shirt and pants, were much more comy and much more suited for a child, unlike that horrible suit.

- Hey, little one, how are you feeling? - he asked with strained gentleness

- I'm okay - you answered simply

- Since you are mostly recovered you will have to leave the medbay - he started saying. You were expecting something like that to happend, because why would he let you stick around? He alredy done much for you. As you were staying in the medbay you remember that Batman had a rule - a rule of not killing. Maybe that's why he helped you and healed you up, he probably just didn't want to let you die. You knew your father wouldn't really care of something happened to you, and he wouldn't even avange you, because why would he? You are just a pawn and he has bigger cards to cards to care about.

- So you will bring me back? -you asked, simply, which shoked Batman. You just now simply and dully asked him if he will bring you back to the crime alley ? How? Why? He felt his heart stinging at your emotionless reaction.

- No, I want to give you your new home

- New home? - you asked, confused. What did he meant by that?

- Yes. You will live with me, Alfred, and my sons. - he said calmly, looking at you, studying your reaction, he moved his hands closer to his mask. - that means you will know who I'm, and who are my allies are, which brings me to the point, before we could go to your new home, you must learn few rules, you understand right? - you only nodded in response. You were really confused. Why he wants you to live with you? Why is he okay with it? What was his reasoning?

The rules included: do not reveal our dentities to anyone, no wepons, no sharp object, no violence, no disobedience, mandatory emotional check-ins, mandatory seek of help when you need it, respect of boundaries and few other. You listened carefully when he explained every rule, trying to remember every detail, but you couldn't really understand that all. And you didn't really understood what will happened if you break the rule, but you didn't wanted to take chances.

After he explained the rules and you nodded to confirm you got the idea, he finally took his mask, and his face seemed to be familiar, and after few sections of thinking you said

- Oh, you are a man from newspapers - you remember seeing his face on some of the newspapers you used as blankets back in the crime alley.

- So I guess you know me? And you know my name - he asked, a bit confused by your reaction and use of wording

- uh.. I saw you, I don't really who you are - and it was true, you may saw him on newspapers, but you didn't really read them, there was too much words you didn't understand

- My name is Bruce Wayne, you can just call me Bruce. And since I introduced myself, it's time for you to introduce yourself too - he gave you a slight, gentle smile, encouraging you to speak up

- my name is (your name)

- Follow me, (your name)

So now you were following Bat...uh Bruce into various corridors of ... giant house? Castle? You didn't really know, but it was. You looked around, trying to take in at least some of the surroundings, but it was too much for you to remember. All you could say, the place was really luxurious... really like a castle, like one you saw in story book you manage to found one day.

Finally you arrived at the corridors there you assumed lived residents of the place. If you understood correctly while listening to Bruce, here manor two of his sons lived permanent: Tim and Damian, and two others, Richard and Jason, occasionally payed a visit. As you looked around corridor, you suddenly heard unfamiliar voice

- Father, you really decided to let them live here? - that voice sounded annoyed and angry

- Damian, we've talked about it - answered Bruce. You looked to father and son, who started conversation, taking in the appearance of short boy with spiky hair, and bright green eyes. So this is Damian.... as you looked at him, you noticed that his angry gaze never leaving you. His cold anger mixed with with annoyance made you visibly flinched.

- and I still stand my words, they are dangerous - young boy said, walking past his father, stopping in front of you - I was raised by assassins, don't think I won't see through your games - he said closing walking in his room and closing his door. You looked at him go, you expected this kind of greeting.

- Damian can be a little hostile at first- Bruce tried to soften up the atmosphere Damian created

- oh, it's fine, I understand -you answered calmly.

- so, most of those rooms are free so, feel free to chose one.

You walked through the corridor, checking if the room was taken or not, and you stopped at the far away room in the end for the corridor. Knowing that you would probably annoy others with your existence in the manor, you decided to choose exactly this room. You understood that your life here depended on how Batman, or how he told to call him Bruce, and his sons, and if you wanted to live peacefully you needed to try hard and not make him angry.

Bruce wanted to encourage you to take a room closer to others, but decided not to, so he would not discourage you

As you and and him walked in, you couldnt stop looking around. You would be living here now, and it felt like a dream.

- if you need anything call Alfred, and if you need me, just say so to him. - said Bruce as he left you to settle down. You looked around, taking in a surroundings by a bit empty previous guest room that just became yours. You sat down on the bed, feeling it's softness. You were still a confused, you felt fear as always, but also there was something else in the mix of your feelings, something much more lighter.

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In the morning you was woken up by the rays of sun. You didn't figured out how to close the curtains. Previously you didn't feel like going to dinner, so Alfred brought you sandwiches in your room so you at least could have a bite.

You looked out if the window, seeing beautiful geen garden. The sight was new to you, who grew up in the surroundings of dirty bricks and broken concrete. You watched sky, which looked more clear than in crime alley, clouds, birds, trees. It felt surreal, and it made this light feeling in your chest become stronger.

Alfred knocked soon after, he reminded you to wash your face and brush your teeth (something old butler had to explain you how to do) and said that he would lead you to the dining room.

Damian was already there, he tensed up once he saw you. You sat far away from him, sinking in your chair under his gaze.

Soon after you heard yawning coming form the way you've just walked in.

-Morning, Dams, morning Alfred - you heard the sleepy voice say - B left already?

- yes, master Tim - said the old butler putting coffee on place on the table near Damian's one.

- Drake - Damian said through teeth

- oh, look someon in a bad mood since morning, how - the boy sat down, suddenly stopping when he noticed you. He looked at you, not a word leaving him as he quietly staredat you for a few seconds with unreadable expression. Not knowing you decided at least to try to make the situation more strange

- hello? - you mumbled. And he just nodded. His gaze lingered a bit longer on your hair, before he looked away, looking visible uncomfortable. Alfred served the food soon after. It was one of the most tasty things you've ever ate, even if you could feel tension in the air that could be cut with the knife.

After Alfred was lead you back to your room and Bruce made a quick check up on you few hours latter you were left alone. You didn't really had anything to do: the books that were in the room were a bit difficult for you, and you didn't really had an idea what to do with crayons, because all the paintings that came in your mind were ones that were present on your father's "show scene". As you were loking at the window, you heard a sudden knock on your room's door. You turned around, awaiting too see an old butler, but was greeted with the sight of tall young man with wavy black hair, blue eyes, and slightly akward but nonetheless friendly simile.

- Hey, little one - he greeted - what are you up to.

- Hello - you mumbled rather shyly, looking at the window, when back at him.

- Oh, good-old window watching huh - you nodded, soon after adding

- You are?

- Right, I'm Dick, and what's your name?

- (your name)

- Nice to meat you. So, how are you here so far - he tried to striked up the conversation, before you heard familiar annoyed voice of Damian

- Grayson, I require your presence, now!

- Dami, just a minute - he answered

- now! - Damian repeated

Richard gave you an apologetic look - sorry, gotta go, but I would like to hang around you next time, if you Don't mind.

-I do not mind - you mumbled as you watched him left. The way he talked to you was unusual for you. It reminded the way how Bruce or Alfred talked with you, but it was warmer. It made that light feeling in your chest stronger for a bit, until it was taken away. It was strange to be talked with like that, but it was nice. Suddenly, you couldn't help but wish but to be talked with like that more.

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As day went by, you started slowly getting used to the life in here and rutine. You mostly spend your time around Alfred, following him as if you were a little ducking. He helped you around, explained how to do one or other things, helped you to find books you could read through, also old butler introduced to tw, but you quickly found out that cartoons were a bit much to you, so insted you settled on nature documentaries.

So here you were in the living room watching about life of animals in tropical jungle, when you heard heavy footsteps behind door, after that you hears how doors were heavily pushed open, you turned around, and saw tall and built tall and muscular guy, with short black hair with few white strands on them and book in his hands. Judging by his looks and what Alfeed told you so far you guessed it was Jason. Though, he seemed somehow familiar to you, yet you couldn't understand why...

- hello - you mumbled, looking at him.

He instantly frowned, you could see the same expression of anger on his face, the one you noticed on Damian constantly.

- what, old man really had his sanity kicked out? - he grumbled.

You were unsure of how to react, what to do. On one hand you could clearly see that Jason was mad at you the same way Damin were, so the plan was ether to hide in your room, or to stay quiet. On the other hand, even if you really didn't understand how to interact with others, in a short time you've been in the manor Alfred told you some basics of social interactions and politeness, one of which was to iniciate conversions, which made you want to give it a go.

- I just found out that some animals pretend to be dead so they wouldn't become a prey - you mumbled quietly, you really just learned that fact so you decided to share it. But it.your words seemed to make Jason even more mad.

- tsk, I see you, little psycho, are not so different from your crazy Dad - he spat out angrily, leaving you feeling down. You weren't like your dad, were you?

- I uh - you struggled to say, but you couldn't form your thought. What to answer to that? You weren't sure.

- don't even try, I don't like clowns -he spat out. Before you could say anything or he could continue saying things that left you sad, Alfred walked in.

- Master Jason, master Bruce awaits you in a batcave

- thanks - he said as he walked out, leaning you alone with your confusion and sadness, or so it was until you heard Alfred's cautious voice

- Master (your name)? Are you feeling alright? You seem to be a in your thoughts.

- I'm okay - you answered immediately, not wanting to worry old butler

- I see. - he answered, a bit thoughtfully, before speaking again - would you like to have some tea with cookies? - you nodded eagerly, remembering their sweet taste -when follow me to the kitchen

While you were enjoying tea with cookies, and looking how Alfred was busy preparing lunch, cutting greens with cooking scissors and chopping vegetables. He done this all fast and gracefully, leaving you amazed by his skills. In the middle of him cutting yet another green leaf, Alfeed was asked to go down to the cave by Jason, who walked away immediately after. Old butler put scissors near the edge of counter, and asked you if you knew how to get back to your room, before leaving. You just finished eating last cookie, when you heard metallic ring of fallen scissors. You walked to pick them up, but seeing your blurred reflection in them gave you an idea difference of original idea. Now you were on the way in your room.

Honestly speaking, you understood why your father was hated in this house, and you could understand why they hated you too, Joker is your dad after all, but you didn't like him to. In fact, he only brought you suffering. And you knew there wasn't a way to undone it,

But there is one thing you could do.

You walked in your room, I'm your bathroom, and in mirror you saw that one thing that reminded you of your father's the most. Your damaged green hair. Although while you were staying here, your hair grew longer and you could see your original color of hair, but green was still there and you hated longer green parts of your hair, his parts of your hair. Damian, Jason and Tim probably hated them too.

Chop.

You started cutting the green parts, leaving only strands of YOUR hair. It took awhile, it was hard. But few minutes after you were without them, and with fluffy uneven mess of a haircut on your head.

Putting all your green hair in a trash, you hurried back to kitchen. To your surprise, Alfred wasn't there yet. You put scissors in the sink, and returned to your tea, happy thay now you didn't had reminder of your dad on your head.

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After your sudden haircut, scolding, and another, but more professional haircut latter, Alfred decided to keep an eye on you. He had to admit that your desire to show difference form your dad finally made him warm up to you. But he was even more surprised when you said that you wanted to help him with tasks around the house and managing requests of boys and Bruce. Bruce found it a welcome change, but not all boys agreed with him

Which leads you to the present moment, you were cautiously carrying tray with coffee and snacks for Tim, since he skipped lunch yet again making Alfred worried yet again, when you were walking past Damian.To avoid him, you took a little to the other side, almost kicking off some sort of sculpture, which he caught, stopping in front of you, glaring at you

- Tt... use your eyes when you are going anywhere, pay attention - he grunted.

- I'm sorry - you said calmly, - cool move by the way - you said in attempt to soften the move

- I wasn't asking for your opinion. - he said, glaring at you one more time and saying - One false move and you'll find yourself dismantled faster than these figurines could hit the ground. Touch anything else in Father's collection, and you'll be practice dummy for my katana.

You tried not to flinch at Damian words, but did so anyways. It took you few minutes to calm down and continue your way towards Tim's room. You prepared to knock, but door was slightly agape.

- Tim? - you called, imitating Alfreds tone of voice. You saw how his hand gestured you to come in, so you did. You placed tray with coffee and snacks on his table. He glanced at you only for a second, before his eyes returned to the screen of his laptop, in that moment some sort of text appeared there, making him jolt, put laptop down and run away. You just stood there, not knowing what to do, you looked between door from which he left, and screen of his computer device, when another text appeared on it, and this time you could read it - "low battery. connect the charger"

Thanks to Alfred, you already knew what charger is, you just have to find it! You looked around, seeing too many wires around the room. You looked at the laptop, and saw too many ports. As you were unsuccessfully trying to find the right wire and right port, laptop's screen went dark. In that moment Tim walked in.

- What did you do?! - he asked almost yelling. Immediately going to the laptop

Nothing! - you panicked, and stepped away. He raised a hand and wave it. Not noticing yor flinch.

- just go, go away! You are messing all up!

If you thought you were shaky after encounter with Damian, this one definitely did.

Judging by Tim's reaction, you broke his computer. You didn't mean to, and you didn't knew if anyone will believe you that you didn't mean to do so. Maybe you'll need to apologize later, but right now, all you wanted is to talk with Alfred or to use up Bruces offer and talk with him if you needed it. In the state of panick you must have took the wrong turn, and bot seeing clearly before yourself, you bumped into Jason, after what you was pushed back and fell down in the process.

- you, little psycho! Don't you dare to touch me! - he yelled, making you flinch. For a second you felt like you was back with your father, pushed around, beaten and yelled at. As you were processing what happened, you didn't hear soft footsteps,

Jay, it was an accident. They just didn't not you - said Richard, trying to calm Jason down -yes, little one? - he said turning to you, but you were already running back to your room.

You cruled up in your blanket, hiding from the world and trying to calm down. You felt like crying. You probably did cry. It was all your fault. You almost broke figurine from Bruces collection, you probably broke Tim's computer, and you made Jason angry, so , Dick too was probably angry at you. Why had you just break thing, make everything worse. Maybe you should talk to Bruce.

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You didn't even notice how you feel asleep for a short time, but when you woke up, you decided to see Bruce, if anyone, he should know how to get allong with boys. And that's what you really wanted, to get along with them, just to feel safe.

The problem however was to find Bruce. You remember Bruce showing you where his cabinet and room was, however, you don't remember where exactly they are. You managed to find Alfred, who gave you a concerned look, but explained you where he was. He also said that all of them were having a movie night - Richard decided that everyone needed at least one bounding day a month, where all of them would gather and do something together. That got you a bit worried, because what if you ruin their movie night just like how you ruined everything today. But maybe you could apologize in front of everyone for being inconvenience and making them angry? You'll have to brace yourself . While thinking about it, you walked through various corridors, until you reached movie room.

There they were: While movie were playing on a big screen they sat on cozy sofa and armchairs. Bruce sat in the armchair, occasionally looking on the boys. You could see smile on his face. Dick sat in the middle of the sofa, watching with enthusiasm and actively commenting on the plot, eating popcorn. On one side if him, putting his head on Dick's shoulder, sat Tim, who was lazily laying on sofa. He sometimes corrected Dick or commented on CGI, whatever it is. On the other side of the Dick sat Damian, who tried to make an impression that he didn't like being here, yet even you could see through his act, and who tried to keep Tim's and Jason's hands away from popcorn. And near Tim, in the corner of sofa sat Jason, who teased Damian and Tim most of the time, argued with Dick on which character is better and successfully stole Dick's popcorn.

You've never seen a sight, that was as warm as this. It felt so warm, so cozy, so homy

It felt like family.

And here you were: in the shadow, not daring to make a step, to come in to join them, to afraid to ruin this perfect moment

You've never had a family in that sense of word, and what you had as a family, you wouldn't dare to call as such. In your family was no warmth, no care. There weren't a moment like this. But you needed them.

After you were taken in my Bruce you found out what care was, but even so it felt like it still was too far away from you, so far that you couldn't reach it. Maybe you didn't deserve it, but you wanted care you wanted love. You wished you could be a part of family you see right now. You want to come in. But you know you can't, you know you will ruin the moment if you will walk in now. You know that Damian will add another threat to a previous one, Jason will yell, Tim will shoosh away, and probably Dick and Bruce will silently agree with them and will say to you to come another time.

Your father is Joker, that's instantly makes you undeserving of care and attention. Well, whay to say if your own mother left you. And as for the batfamily, it's only natural to hate a child of their main enemy.

But what if you can prove you are not like your father? What if love and care are earned, and that's exactly why you didn't get them. When you will have to try and earn it. But for now, all you could do now, is to hide behind the door in another room, listen intently on every sound they make, cry silently, afraid of making any noise so you couldn't ruin the moment and wish you could be with them. Wish you was loved at least once in your life. Wish you were a part of their family.

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Thank you for reading and feel free to share your opinion 💖 have a good day

Author's note 2: I really badly wanna draw Joker's kid. I'd you are interested in my artworks , please let me know

Author's note 3: (1) In one of anonymous asks (here) one user had similar idea of what I had in mind. I hope I've done it good > - < (2) And I wanted to fit this idea from another ask (here) in the plot to, but I couldn't done it fully, I'm sorry T^T

Author's note 4 : to be honest, I have no idea what is tag list and how it works (I'm really sorry, but I'm not active social-media user), but few amazing people asked to tag them, and i hope I'm doing it right: @socially-embarrassing , @leovergurl , @deathbynarcisstick , @cryptic-arr0w , @lynns-cornerr

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axolotl4days · 2 months ago

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Batfam au angst :) also leading into (platonic) yandere batfam

What if Jason wasn't the first kid to die :)

And what if Damian wasn't Bruce's only biological kid :)

Au idea I'm simple terms: what if Bruce had a daughter in his early years of batman, who went missing and dead, but then years later reappeared and was found again, Bruce and the others won't make the same mistake twice.

Author's note before reading: Please keep in mind I'm new to this fandom, so I don't know much about what's canon. I simply get creative ideas really easily and have decided to share them.

If anyone else likes this idea, feel free to rewrite or add onto the concept, if you do please tag me I'd love to see what others do with this concept

I'm picturing reader to be the same age as or potentially slightly younger than Damian, but no specific ages are mentioned

Damian POV:

It was a day like any other, awful, Damian had to go to school. He didn't hate school, just the people there, loud, annoying, nosy.

He went about his day the same as always, reading in class and working on his work, until suddenly the principle came to class abruptly saying they had a new student, which the teacher promptly assigned to sit next to Damian. Great.

The teacher also informed him that he would be the one to show this new student around. So Damian braced himself for the extra annoying questions about him and his family, after all that's what people always want to know.

But to his suprised? This girl didn't care about any of that, simply asking questions about the class and school. She didn't even ask if he was really a Wayne, she looked a bit suprised but it wasn't the usual suprise most people had, and she didn't ask him any questions about it so it didn't matter.

As he showed her around he found out that they had the same classes, he heard her sigh of relief, but when questioned she said she was glad because it ment she wouldn't be alone in any of her classes and she'd have someone to turn to.

As the day went on they would go to class and work on classwork, it seems his new classmate was a lot smarter than the rest of them and he didn't have to constantly help her with work.

At the end of the day he made a mental note of a new acquaintance.

Later that day

"Ah, Master Damian, welcome back. How was your day at school?" Alfred asked, greeting the young boy

"It was alright Pennyworth, we had a transfer student today, but she seemed to be quite intelligent unlike the rest of those peasants" Damian replied

"Oh? A transfer student? In the middle of the school year? How odd."

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior, but there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, her name is Y/n." Damian said, but after saying her name he noticed Alfred looked pale

"Pennyworth? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to inform father?" Damian asked

"No no, I'm quite alright, it's just, I... used to know someone with that name, so I was suprised to hear it. That's all." Alfred replied, but he still looked pale

"If you say so. I'm going to head to my room and work on schoolwork before it's time for patrol" Damian said, and he was gone without another word

Alfred's POV:

'Calm yourself Alfred. It's a normal name that anyone could have, besides, it's been 20 years. Even if it was her she wouldn't be part of the young masters class. Still... I should inform Master Bruce, incase he mentions this classmate' Alfred thinks to himself before heading to the batcave.

There he finds both Bruce and Tim, working on the computer, searching for sightings of criminal activity, recently rumors of a new villain with unknown powers had started to arise, so it was the batman's job to keep Gotham safe

"Ahem, apologies for interrupting, but I need to borrow Master Bruce for a moment" Alfred says

"Did something happen Alfred?" Bruce asks

"No, not necessarily, it's nothing serious but we need to talk" Alfred replies

Bruce gets up and follows Alfred out of the room

"What is it Alfred? You look like you've seen a ghost." Bruce states

"Apologies Sir, as I said, it's nothing serious, however Damian informed me of a new classmate at school today" Alfred starts

"In the middle of the year?" Bruce comments

"That's what I said, however that isn't the point, I simply wanted to let you know before hand, incase the young master mentions this classmate infront of you.." Alfred pauses

"That's it? Why would you need to inform me of that" Bruce asks confused

"Well you see. He said that her name was... Y/n" Alfred states, and Bruce becomes just as pale as he is

"I see.... did Damian tell you anything else about this.... classmate?" Bruce asks

"No, he did not. But simply stated he'd keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Alfred said

"I understand." Bruce said with a deep sigh

"Are you alright Master Bruce? I know it's been a long time but-"

"I'm fine Alfred. I just... I'm fine. I need to head back to work now, we still don't know what this new villain is capable of, or what they're after." Bruce says, turning away

"Alright sir, if you insist. Please take care of yourself."

Alfred says, but he knows how Bruce is

The patrol went on as normal, and so did school. Nothing particularly interesting happened it was a week like any other, Damian and y/n would work on schoolwork together during breaks, since y/n joined late she had a lot of work to catch up on but she didn't have much trouble and Damian helped her when she did. The two had even become friends, turns out they had a lot in common, and some classmates tried to joke about how they were like siblings, but the two didn't mind. The jokes did make Damian aware of how... familiar y/n looked. He pondered the idea of her being a child from a one night stand, but the timelines didn't match up so he brushed the thought away, thinking it was a coincidence that she looked so much like Bruce. But nothing out of the ordinary happened of note, not until one fateful patrol where Damian made a discovery

Y/n POV:

Y/n didn't know where to go after waking up again, it was clear so many things have changed, and her dad taught her well. She needed more information before she made any decisions.

Unfortunately this ment she had no place to stay. After all, she couldn't go to an orphanage, she wasn't an orphan and she didn't have any documents or a story on where she came from. She knew better than to go to the police, what would she even say to them? So here she was. Sitting under a bridge hoping she won't get sick. But she was strong, she'd do what she'd have to in order to understand the situation better. Even if that means sleeping under a bridge like a troll, even if it means only eating the food provided by the school, even if it means-

"Hello there. Are you alright?" A voice asked making her jump

She turns to see, some sort of vigilante. She had heard in passing about how her dad Batman wasn't the only vigilante in Gotham anymore, so she figured it was one of them

"Oh um, I'm alright" she replied, she hadn't planned to meet any of them, she knew she might meet batman, which she kind of hoped for because then she could get some answers, but this was new territory this was- wait a minute why does he kind of look like Damian?

"Are you sure? Your sitting underneath a bridge at night, kids shouldn't be out here like this you could get hurt. Or worse. Why aren't you with your parents?" The vigilante (Damian) said, after recognizing his classmate, assessing the situation

"It's... complicated" y/n replies, before wondering how much she should tell him "I... can't really talk about it, but I can't go back home.. not yet at least, and I don't have anywhere else to go, so I've just been here" she states, hoping she didn't say to much

The vigilante just stays there for a moment, not saying anything, and she wonders if she said to much or if he thinks she's a criminal

"I see. In any case, you shouldn't be out here alone, the streets of Gotham aren't safe, however if you insist on staying out here may I suggest somewhere that isn't so easily spotted? You wouldn't want to be attacked. I know a few places that are safer than.. this" The vigilante says offering a hand

"Oh, uhm" y/n thinks for a moment, weighing her options "I'll take you up on that offer, it's not great down here" y/n replies, taking his hand

The two go to a more remote, slightly cleaner area

"Here we are, even if it's temporary this would be a better place for a shelter than where you were before. I don't know what's going on, but if you need assistance, im willing to help" the vigilante replies

"Thank you, you've really been more than enough help and I appreciate it a lot. If I need anything il let you know....."

"... Robin. My name is Robin." Robin says, noticing her pause

"Robin... thank you for the help, good luck with the rest of your patrol" y/n says

"Of course, you be careful now, always keep an eye out." Robin says, before leaving

'Phew.... he's gone. That was definitely him, and he definitely recognized me. Now what. He didn't say anything so they're definitely still doing the secret identity thing. I guess I'll just have to play it cool and hope he doesn't say anything at school. If any of the teachers find out I'm definitely gonna get investigated and then my whole plan will be thrown out the window.' Y/n thinks to herself 'Maybe this is a good thing, if he's Robin, it's likely that dad's still Batman too, which means I might run into him. What if he doesn't recognized me? What if he does recognize me?? What if- what if he didn't miss me.... no, no! This is dad, of course he missed me but it's been... so long... what do I do if he doesn't want me back...' y/n starts to worry about before she falls to the floor and starts to cry

Which, unbeknownst to her, Damian saw, he doesn't know why she's crying or why it makes him feel so... protective but he knows somethings up, so he goes off and reports what he knows to Batman

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaand cliffhanger! Mwahahahaha

I would have kept going, and I know exactly what's coming next, but I've been typing for awhile and I have no idea how long this post is, and I don't want it to be too long

So I'm stopping it there,

This wasn't supposed to be this much but my creative brain decided to run with this idea, so there's gonna be a part 2 soon

Also I've decided to call this au

Batman Dead Daughter Au

Because.... idk what else to call it and if I'm gonna make a part 2 and potentially more depending on how this goes, I'm gonna need something to refer to it with.

As I said before, I'm extremely new to the batman stuff

Pretty much all of my knowledge comes from youtube and tumblr, so bare with me if things are out of character

I've also never written fanfiction before, it's always just been in my head, so the writing is probably a bit funny

Yes I'm a writer in the making but I haven't actually gotten to the writing part

And fanfiction is a bit different

Hope yall like the concept tho

Again, feel free to write your own version of this if you want to, just tag me so I can read it too lol

#batfam x reader #batman #damian wayne #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #yandere damian wayne #Batman Dead Daughter Au

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shadowkoo · 5 months ago

Text

Just Dance It Off

→ Summary: You're over the moon when you land the female lead in the end-of-semester show. It feels like your hard work has finally paid off, everything is going great. Well, until you learn who your partner is…

↠ jimin x f.reader | 9.5k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, angst, fluff, ballet dancers au, enemies to lovers, performing arts college au

→ Warnings: explicit and unprotected sex, jealousy, masturbation, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, use of fake ID, mild exhibitionism, creampie, hair pulling, angry sex, nipple play, degradation, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple smut scenes, heavy teasing & banter, edging, orgasm denial, light choking

→ Author Note: This is a rewrite of an old 2019 fic of mine, so I hope you enjoy the newest version! If you’d like to read this on ao3 instead it’s been crossposted here! Also a biiiiiiig thank you so Sarah @caelesjjk for beta editing this for me. Go show her some love if you aren't already following her! As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3

“Oh, no,” you hear one of the dancers behind you whisper to another, “Look who’s walking in.”

Your curiosity gets the best of you as you casually stretch, your eyes betraying you by glancing over your shoulder toward the door, dying to see who they’re talking about. You recognize him almost immediately and the whispers continue to grow about the slender male who is walking across the room to set his stuff down.

Park Jimin.

Of course, he would be auditioning for this show. It’s his final semester, and you really should have seen this coming. Especially since you knew he was bound to get whatever position he was auditioning for. That’s a given.

Park Jimin always gets whatever he wants in life; whether that be a specific role in a performance, who his performance partners are both on the stage…and in the bedroom, that sort of thing. He’s the most pretentious person you’ve ever met, seeing as he acts like he is God’s gift to the dance world, and you’re already dreading any interaction you’ll have with him.

Rumor has it that his daddy, former dancer and sponsor, paid his way into Juilliard, but as much as you hate to admit it, he (unfortunately) happens to be very talented and you doubt the school didn’t already have something lined up for him, regardless of who his family is. Unlike you, who was on the waitlist for two months and had to take out a loan worth more than your life to attend this school.

Your eyes meet his and Jimin does a once-over before moving onto the people to your left. What a prick.

“Y/N!” a voice yells from the entryway. Your familiar, freckled, redheaded best friend is quickly prancing towards you.

“I’m so happy to see you here,” Catalina squeals before hugging you tightly. “What part are you auditioning for? Please tell me it’s lead. God, I miss you. It sucks that we don’t have any classes together this semester. How are you?”

You hug your petite friend back, “I miss you too! Please tell me that you’re not also auditioning for lead, I don’t want to be judged against you. Your pirouettes are perfect compared to my lousy ones.”

Her laugh echoes through the room. “Apparently you didn’t hear about my recent tumble,” she jokes, bumping her shoulder into yours. “I’ll gladly be in the background after my solo-gone-wrong.”

“Alright, everyone!” One of the male judges calls out, walking past the lineup of dancers to collect everyone’s entry form. “We’ll start with the routine you were required to memorize as a group, and then it will be individual evaluations after. Make sure your numbers are secured and let’s line up outside the door.”

After taking your place and getting into position with the rest of the packed room, you wait for the cue to begin. The routine is short and simple, and years of practice have made some of the required moves second nature.

Before you know it, the judges are escorting people out the door for the individual sessions.

You're about twentieth in line, right behind Cat. That makes you a bit nervous because, even though she’s not auditioning for the lead role, her impressive skills might land her a more prominent part than the one she’s aiming for.

Everyone else is quietly chatting in line while you do your best to relax, working through your routine in your mind. This is one of your pre-audition rituals. It always helps with easing your nerves.

By the time you finish running through a couple of full-outs in your head, you’re second in line. You wish Cat good luck as she’s ushered into the dance studio. Her five minutes go by almost too quickly, but she exits with a happy smile.

“Hey, good luck! Kill it, okay?”

You nod, quickly following after the woman who calls your name next.

“Miss Y/N, it says here that you’re auditioning for the female lead. As a sophomore?” Mr. Jenson, one of your dance professors and judge, questions. You prepared for this. It’s very uncommon for an underclassman to try out for such a prestigious role.

“Yes, sir. That’s correct.” You hold your head high.

“Well, I have to say I’m quite impressed with your confidence. Whenever you’re ready.”

You wait for the familiar beginning notes of Tchaikovsky’s Waltz Of The Flowers to play before flying effortlessly through your well-practiced routine. You’re banking on the emotional state of your dancing along with the technical moves you’ve included to impress the judges, and based on their faces when you finish, you figure you did just that. You can’t help but grin widely as you watch the four of them scribble furiously onto the sheets of paper. That’s a really good sign.

“I have to say, I was a little thrown off in the beginning by your song choice since it’s so, hmm, how do I say this, so amateur. But I was very surprised by what you chose to express and the level at which you dance,” the first judge says.

“Yes, the lines you created with your body were very exquisite,” another praises.

You nodded, taking in their advice and criticism.

“Thank you, Miss Y/N, you may exit.” Mr. Jenson says with a smile.

As soon as you step out the door and exhale, you feel a sense of relief. The excitement of your successful audition courses through you, filling you with good energy.

You find Cat stretching in the warm-up room next door.

“Oh my god, you got it. Didn’t you?” She squeals the second she sees your face.

“I don’t know…” You have a pretty good idea based on their responses and comments but aren’t positive.

“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes, “That’s your ’I just nailed my audition’ face. You totally got it.”

“I hope so. God, wouldn’t that be so insane? When was the last time an underclassman got the lead?”

Someone behind you scoffs; you look over your shoulder and see that it’s Jimin. Your eyes narrow at him, but Cat turns you back before you go off on him. “Not worth it, the rest of us seniors think it’s great that you’re trying for a top spot. How about we go get a drink from the vending machine while we wait?”

You nod before grabbing your warm-up bag and follow her out. “I can’t believe him. He’s so stuck up,” You grumble once you’re far enough away that no one but Cat can hear you.

“He’s always like that, just be thankful that you don’t share any classes with him.”

You’ve heard that Jimin is usually the center of attention in class, whether it’s his choice or not, so you can’t imagine being stuck in one with him. It sounds like it would be impossible to get good feedback if the teachers only care about him.

After you both buy the drinks that you want, you head back. The line is smaller but it will still be at least a half-hour until everyone has had their turn. You sigh impatiently and head back into the warm-up room.

Deciding to sit along the mirrored wall, you rummage through your bag to find a pair of headphones and put your favorite playlist on shuffle while you wait. Even though it feels like half the day goes by while you’re sitting there waiting, it’s really only been about an hour.

Everyone’s attention lands on Madam Jamie, one of the contemporary dance professors, when she asks everyone to re-enter the audition room.

“Okay,” she starts once everyone gets in line, “Those whose numbers I am about to call, please step forward. Dancers eleven, one fifty-three, one forty-seven, seventeen, thirty-eight, twenty-two, and one ten.”

Cat gives you a concerned look as she steps forward without you.

“Seventy-two, fifteen, sixty-eight, thirty, thirty-four, eighty-two, one twenty-one–” you step forward and sigh in relief once she spoke your number. Tuning out the rest of the numbers called, you smile at Cat as she reaches for your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“Everyone else, I’m sorry to inform you that you have not been selected. Thank you for your time,” She finishes, resting her clipboard against her chest.

Those who didn’t make the cut are escorted out as Mr. Jenson stands up to make an announcement.

“I have everyone’s part listed here,” He shakes the paper in his hand. “It’ll be left on this table for you all to look over. However, I want to first congratulate you all. We are excited to have this much talent for the semester’s exhibition show. We have some great things planned and cannot wait to get started with you all. Please take note of our rehearsal schedule. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Eight to noon. Most of you should not have conflicting schedules as all dance classes are held in the afternoon anyway, although if you do have a problem just stay after and we can work it out. Madam Jamie and I will see you back here Monday morning. Dismissed.”

You and Cat both wait until more people clear out of the room before you have the guts to read the paper.

Catalina Wilde - Corps de ballet

Your eyes wander across the page as you search for your name.

Y/N - Lead Female Soloist

Turning towards each other, you squeal “Oh my god,” at the same time.

“I can’t believe it. We both got what we wanted,” you excitedly rush out.

“I know, this never happens. Oh, I’m so excited!” She reaches for your hand and squeezes it again, picking up the paper with her other hand.

“Oh, no.” She turns the paper towards you, “Look who your partner is.”

Park Jimin - Lead Male Soloist

You huff, “Of course, I’m not surprised.” You turn your head and search the mostly-empty room for him. You have a feeling he’s still here, it’s like you can sense his presence.

“Cat! You coming?” the group of dancers near the door asks.

“Shoot, I’ve got to head to my next session. I’ll see you later, okay?” Cat says, giving you a quick hug as she runs out the door.

Leaving just you and Jimin.

Deciding to let go of your prejudice against Jimin, you figure the best move would be to congratulate him on getting the part he auditioned for.

He watches blankly from the mirrored wall as you walk towards him.

Once in front of him, you stick your hand out. “Hey congrats, I’m looking forward to–” you begin before he rudely cuts you off by holding up his hand.

“Yeah, whatever,” he sneers, “We need to take this extremely seriously so I expect you to be at our rehearsals an hour early so we can get in extra time,” he looks you over again, “From what I can tell you’re gonna need it.”

“Also,” apparently he isn’t finished, “I expect that you’ll be taking care of your diet from here on out since I’m going to be lifting you and I don’t want my arms to give out, or worse, snap.”

“Well, you can always go to the gym and work on that yourself,” you say defensively. What a jerk.

“So can you, sweetheart.”

“Uh, wow. Okay…” Here you are trying to congratulate him and here he is treating you like dirt. “Guess the rumors are true,” you mutter as you shift your duffel strap further up your shoulder, turning to leave.

“Excuse me?” Well, shit. He wasn’t supposed to hear that part. You look him in the eyes without showing any regret for your previous statement.

His eyes narrow at you, clearly not liking your RBF, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Sorry.” However, you aren’t.

“You know,” he remarks, “I don’t care about what you’ve heard about me or what you think about me. I care if you’re going to be too immature for this role and if that’s the case I’ll have no trouble replacing you.” He follows you out the audition room.

Oh boy, you’re pissed now. You turn around and get right in his face.

“What the fuck? In case you haven’t noticed, you aren’t in charge here. Just because you’re a senior and I’m a sophomore doesn’t make you any better than me,” you bark while shoving a finger in his chest.

“Secondly, I don’t need to believe the rumors because you’ve just proven them to be true. You’re an ass to all of your partners to the point that they don’t want to dance with you so you can,” you lift up your hands to finger quote this next part, “Pick who you think is good enough.”

You scoff, “Well, here’s a fun fact dickwad. I’m not going anywhere. The judges chose me and I fully intend on dancing as the female lead in the show. So get the fuck over yourself ‘cause you’re about to be seeing a lot of me in these next few months. Got it?“

"Fine,” he huffs, pushing past you.

“Fine!” you snap, turning away from him and heading towards your next class. Now that you're thoroughly annoyed and not in the mood for your next class, which happens to be a two-hour lecture on the history of interpretive dance, you sigh and get moving before you’re late.

The first two weeks of ‘rehearsals’ are spent training, just at a higher level than you’re used to. However, you hide it well. You’ve been making sure to keep up with the upperclassmen because you know that you are, unfortunately, replaceable if Madam Jamie or Mr. Jenson deems it necessary.

It doesn’t matter that your thighs feel like they are on fire, or that your calves might be ripping at every bend and arch you make. You’re going to complete the one hundred pliés just like everyone else without a single complaint.

Jimin must have taken your last conversation to heart, or he’s exceptionally good at masking his feelings if your words bothered him, because he’s been an excellent partner all week. Although, you know you aren’t going to grow a typical relationship with him as you did with all of the other partners you have had over the years. You’ve been friends, good friends, even, with your previous partners, something you know is never going to happen with Jimin.

He doesn’t do small talk. He really doesn’t have much to say at all other than pointing out when you are making a mistake. No good comments, nor praise–not that you’re expecting any–but it would have been nice to hear him say that he is impressed with how well you’re keeping up with him.

It’s Friday of the second week, which means that it’s the last day of the training period aka hell week, thankfully. You’re dying to get started on learning the actual program. You aren’t looking forward to Jimin’s request of showing up an hour earlier than everyone else this next week, but even though you hate to admit it, the extra time will end up benefiting you.

Today also happens to be the day the choreographer is coming in. You’ve heard the whispers throughout the school this week, everyone trying to guess who it’s going to be.

And after seeing who Madam Jamie walks into the studio with, you’re so happy to see that they were all wrong.

“O-oh my–ohmygod,” you bumble and did a double-take. It couldn’t be, could it?

The brown curls hung gorgeously on the tall man’s head and you internally drool at how much better looking he is in person. He’s so tan, so fit, so delicious–

“Can you concentrate?” Jimin grumbles in annoyance, pulling you out of your slightly inappropriate thoughts. You’re doing partner stretches, which does require some level of focus, but not enough that you have to look away from the literal Italian God who stood a mere six feet away. “What’s your deal anyway? We’re supposed to be preparing our muscles for the toughest training session yet and you’re over there stuttering like a fool.”

You scoff at him and lower your voice, “Don’t you know who that is?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Does it look like I care?” He mutters, pushing the backside of your thigh towards your torso.

“You can’t be serious,” you exasperate. “That’s Luca Black! You know, one of the most famous choreographers in the dance world right now. I can’t believe you don’t see how big of a deal this is.”

“The only thing I care about right now is making sure your hamstrings are loose so you don’t kick me in the face when we’re dancing.”

Now there’s an idea…

“Alright, everyone! Front and center please,” Mr. Jenson announces as he walks in the door, right on time as usual.

“Dancers, I would like you to meet Mr. Black, your choreographer. I expect you all to treat him with the same level of respect that you give me and Madam Jamie.”

“Oh please,” Mr. Black says, stepping forward, “You can all call me Luca.” His smile hits the heart of every girl in the class, and even a few of the guys. “I am looking forward to working with you all to make this performance one to remember. Can we get into a lineup to start?”

Everyone moves into the typical sequence based on each person’s position of where they belong. Which meant that you and Jimin were dead center with Luca’s eyes right on you.

You swallow slowly when he walks towards the two of you. “You must be Y/N. Mr. Jenson has told me quite a lot about you. I have to say, I am most excited to work with a dancer like you.”

Jimin is perplexed that Luca went straight to you. If anything, he’s the better dancer here and he doesn’t quite understand why a sophomore is getting so much attention. He’s nearly sick to his stomach listening to the nauseating conversation that you two are having.

“It’s an honor to have you working with us Mr. Black,” you say in awe as you shake his hand.

“Luca,” he corrects before lifting your hand to kiss it, “And the pleasure is most definitely all mine.”

“Sorry,” you pant, rushing through the door. “I know I’m a couple of minutes late. I couldn’t find parking. Why is it so freaking busy? It’s barely seven.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” Jimin says ignoring your question. You bite your tongue and get straight into your morning stretches.

“What do you want to work on today?” you ask, knowing what he is going to say after you’re warmed up. For the past three weeks, you and Jimin have been dedicating extra time to perfecting scene two's Pas De Deux.

It’s the only section of this scene where you’re both completely alone on stage and Jimin is dead-set on making it nothing less than perfect. He reasons that just because you are the only two people on stage doesn’t mean that the audience’s attention is a given, you need to earn it.

Which is a very on-brand thing for Jimin to say.

“Do you really need to ask?” He snickers with a playful smile plastered to his face.

“Nevermind then,” you banter back, joining him as he finishes stretching.

You’ve surprisingly gotten pretty comfortable with Jimin after spending more time with him. Dancing with him is mostly fun, besides when he calls you out on your mistakes…repeatedly. But even then, you know he tries to mean well. You both have to be the best or the other will end up looking like a fool–which (you assume) neither of you want to happen.

Knowing that you’re almost halfway through the semester is a little terrifying. All the dancers have been making great progress and everything is coming together seamlessly, but you can’t help but feel the nervousness set in.

You take a deep breath and clear your thoughts, getting nervous right now will do you no good. Thankfully, when you start dancing your mind settles and you’re able to concentrate on your performance.

Well, that is, until Jimin drops you during the lift. You might have understood the mistake if he hadn’t done it three times prior.

“Get up.” He holds his hand out for you, pulling you to your feet. “We need to get this number down, you know how important it is.”

“I’m aware of that,” you hiss. “But it would be nice if you weren’t letting me fall every two seconds.” You rub your aching side and stretch to see if that helps ease the pain.

“Just dance it off, you’ll be fine.” Jimin walks over to his stuff along the wall, before bending down to grab his water bottle.

You scowl. “Stop being ridiculous and hold me properly. I don’t have teeth anywhere down there,” you say motioning to the space between your legs. “You can put your hand where it belongs without worry, you know.”

Jimin blushes as soon as he hears your words, he turns away quickly before you notice. Yes, it’s technically his fault that you keep falling. It isn’t intentional, but he can’t help it. Especially when he can feel the warmth of your center from where his hand is resting when he goes in for the lift.

The thought of other parts of him being this close to your heat is driving him crazy and yeah, he may have faltered, which yeah, may have caused you to crash down once…twice. Okay, maybe three times. Or four?

It doesn’t matter. He’s so hyper-focused on why he’s thinking about you like this at all. You’re attractive, he already knew that. But this new-found thought of wanting to take you hard and fast, right here in the studio is something else. It comes from deep within, and he can’t decide if he wants to squash the idea completely or let it lead to something wild.

Jimin shakes his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts just long enough for you to both get through these next ten minutes before the rest of the crew arrives for rehearsal. “Alright, let’s go again.”

You get into position, Jimin falling behind you. You try to hold still but his breath tickles your neck while you wait for the music cue.

The motions are practically natural to you at this point, and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself in case you fall again.

You rapidly suck in air when you feel Jimin’s fingers press deep into your inner thigh this time as he lifts you. They are incredibly close, much closer than they were last time.

You won’t ever admit to it, but your mind is overflowing with dirty thoughts of Jimin’s fingers somewhere else. Particularly somewhere that would have you writhing within seconds.

Those thoughts are distracting, and you’re late for your cue to jump down. And somehow instead of jumping, your body twists around in a weird way as your head dives down toward the ground below you. Tensing, you brace for the impact that doesn’t come.

Unexpectedly, Jimin manages to catch you before any damage happens, and he quickly pulls you up, as if you were never upside down to begin with. His arms are wrapped right below your butt, causing your head to be directly above his. How on earth it got there, you have no idea.

But you aren’t questioning it. Adrenaline runs wild through your body, and you cling to him as if your life depends on it. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, scared that you still might fall somehow.

Your faces are only a few inches apart in this position, which allows you to see how soft and smooth Jimin’s lips look. You slowly lick yours as he lowers you down to the ground, keeping the same amount of distance, or lack thereof, between you two. The realization that it would be so easy to kiss him right now has set in and you swear Jimin has the same mad thoughts; especially when he’s gripping your hips this tightly.

What you both don’t realize is that outside of the main doors, the rest of the dancers are watching with wide eyes and shocked faces. If it weren't for the unmistakable red hair you see in the mirror's reflection, who knows what might have happened? You don’t think about it, instead, you pull away and play it off before heading toward your bag to grab a drink.

“Morning everyone! What are we all waiting for?” Luca says from behind the dancers, “Let’s go in and get warmed up.”

He opens the door and sees you and Jimin at opposite ends of the room, each taking big gulps from your water bottles. Interesting…

Cat walks in and sets her stuff down next to Jimin’s and silently watches him. His face is flushed but she can’t tell if it was because of the intense moment you two just shared, or from the strain of the lifting sequence. She was the first to notice the look you two shared before the crowd outside the door, and she has a weird feeling about it.

Last she knew you were still fighting with Jimin during your pre-practices, although she’s very aware of the saying ’there’s a fine line between love and hate’. Cat makes a mental note to ask you about this morning’s situation later.

The first half of practice is weird, to say the least. Jimin is treating you like nothing happened. And while technically nothing happened, something almost did and you don’t know how you felt about the something.

Needless to say, you aren’t on top of your dance game today. It’s hard to concentrate with your head filled with empty-answered questions and even more confusion.

“Okay, everyone,” Luca echoes, stealing every dancer’s attention, “Let’s take five. When we reconvene we’ll do a recap of Scenes One through Three with no breaks. If we can get it down we’ll move onto the beginning of Scene Four today.”

You and Jimin happily turn in opposite directions, grateful for some space.

“Y/N, can you stay back? There’s something I want to go over with you,” Luca calls out, stopping you from heading in the direction of Cat and some of the other girls.

Oh no. That’s never a good sign.

“Don’t worry, you’re not doing anything wrong,” he says after seeing your smile falter. “I just see a little room for improvement with the last sequence before the song changes in scene three.”

He gestures for you to get into position in front of him, which you do without hesitation.

Luca moves closer to you and rests a hand on your lower back, “Tighten here and stretch.” He shows you how to position your body to make it look more elegant and elongated. “See how much longer you look now?” His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “Hold yourself like this through the rest of the dance. Trust me when I say you’ll notice a difference. So will everyone else.”

A blush creeps up your neck when his hand slides across your hip before he steps away from you, “Thank you for the tip.”

His eyes burn into yours, and you feel the heat growing in your lower stomach. “Anytime, Y/N.” His lips turned into a small smile, which you returned.

Jimin stalks silently as Luca touches you, his anger bubbling deep down inside him. Fuck, he doesn’t exactly want you, but he definitely doesn’t want anyone else to have you either. And he sure as hell doesn’t want Luca touching you like that or giving you those looks; looks that have disguised intentions with ulterior motives behind them.

He wants to tell Luca where to go and how to get there, but he knows better. Not only would it be unprofessional as hell, but Jimin would probably be screwed out of a lot of future events if he tells one of the best choreographers to fuck off.

He forces himself to look away and takes another deep breath, calming down a little before part two of rehearsals starts.

The second half of rehearsals ends sooner than expected, and Jimin storms off before you even have the chance to talk to him about this morning. You sigh, your eyes trailing his fast exit.

“Y/N! I’m heading to the vending machine for a granola bar, want to come with me?” Cat asks. You’re sure that her question has a hidden agenda too, but you go along with it anyway since you’re starving and need to eat something small before your next class.

“Sure, just give me a second to switch out of my pointe shoes.” You don’t like to wear yours for walking since they’re new and still stiff.

“So,” Catalina begins, watching you put the money into the machine. “What was that this morning? And don’t you dare try to say it was just dancing, because I’ve seen 'just dancing’ with Jimin and that was not at all what I saw earlier.”

You groan internally, not wanting to deal with her interrogation. Cat isn’t the type to judge you if you told her that you would’ve fucked Jimin right then if it wasn’t for the fact that you noticed her (and the rest of the dancers). But you don’t want to admit it to yourself.

Saying it and thinking it are two very different things, and you aren’t sure you can come to terms with saying that you want to fuck Jimin. Hell, you have no idea if you will feel the same way in an hour. So you choose to keep it to yourself for now.

“Did something happen between you two?” she asks bluntly.

“No, nothing happened between us.”

“And is that a good or bad thing?” she questions next.

“Good,” you huff, “I think…”

It’s been another busy few weeks, and things have been going great…until today. To be honest, this is probably the worst dance day you’ve had in years.

“I’m sorry guys, let’s start from the top,” you apologize again for messing up. The scene you’re going over today isn’t complicated by any means, it’s only a transition scene. But your head is elsewhere which, in turn, makes you mess up every couple of seconds.

You're not getting many approving looks from the room. Luca is a little worried, Madam Jamie has pursed lips, and the dancers are severely annoyed with you.

“No, Miss Y/N. Stop before you hurt yourself.” Mr. Jenson lets out a frustrated sigh. “Kyra, would you stand in for Y/N and show her how it’s properly done?”

You’re embarrassed that it’s gotten to this point. What is with you? You’ve done this sequence perfectly with Jimin this past week, hundreds of times at least. Now with the extra dancers on the floor, you seem to be forgetting it all.

Taking soft, shallow breaths is the only thing keeping you from crying in front of everyone. But they wouldn’t notice. All eyes are glued to Kyra, a senior who had also auditioned for the same role as you, as she dances with Jimin.

They dance beautifully, you can’t deny it, even if you want to. You can’t help but wonder if she would’ve been the better choice for the female lead.

“Thank you, Kyra. Everyone back into position now.”

Kyra walks past you and smirks. You know she’s thinking the same thing that you are. She probably also thinks that she’s capable of sweeping in and stealing your position. Like hell if you’re going to let that happen.

Even so, it’s not your decision to make and you know if you keep screwing this up it’s more than likely to happen.

“Hey, are you okay? What’s your deal?” Jimin whispers once he lines up with you again. The last thing you need is for him to make you feel worse for fucking up.

“I don’t know, it’s not a good day for me,” you whisper back as your eyes fill with tears. You’re completely exhausted, defeated, and disappointed.

“Just dance it off, we all get days like this. Follow my lead, okay? I promise I won’t let you mess up again.”

You nod, blinking back your tears. This is a different side of Jimin than you’re used to. He’s caring and knows exactly what to say to make you feel better.

After shaking off the earlier mishaps, you get yourself together and push through practice, making sure that the first official run-through of the program is a total success. It makes you feel a hell of a lot better than two hours earlier. You can tell that the rest of the group is just as ecstatic as you and Jimin are.

“That was great, Y/N!” he says, pulling you into a comforting hug. “See, all you needed was a little reassurance.”

You’re slightly sad when he pulls back, the warmth of his body is no longer felt. “Thank you for today. I would’ve completely fallen apart without you.”

“Hey don’t worry about it, make sure you get some rest this weekend. See you Monday!” He smiles softly and waves bye. Who knew Jimin had more to him than what everyone else saw?

“Hey, Y/N!”

You turn your head and see Madison, one of the upperclassmen who’s also in the show, walking toward you.

“What are you doing tonight? Some of the girls and I are planning on going out to celebrate our first successful run-through of the show. We’re wondering if you’d like to come?” She leans in a little closer, “We have a fake you can use to get into our favorite club, Wander. We’d love for you to let loose with us.”

Usually, you would turn down any interaction that involves alcohol, especially since you’re underage, but you don’t want to disappoint your potential new friends. Plus it does sound like a lot of fun, and after the practice you just had, you deserve to let loose and relax.

“Yeah, totally! I’d love to come.” Madison smiles and you both trade numbers.

“Okay cool, I’ll text you my address later. We’re gonna get ready at mine before we head out. See you later!” She gives you a quick hug before heading out the door.

You’re secretly excited to hang out with the older girls since you don’t have many other friends in your year. Especially not now with all your free time taken up by rehearsals.

Jimin stands outside the dance studio’s side door, slyly eavesdropping. He makes a mental note to accidentally run into you later. He isn’t sure what’s gotten into him, but he doesn’t want to go without seeing you for two days.

You intrigue him, and after your almost-kiss, Jimin wants to know what your lips feel like for real this time, not just what he has been imagining.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks over the pounding music. You have no idea what to ask for; you obviously don’t drink and ordering something from the bar is a little out of your comfort zone since you don’t know what you’re doing.

Madison catches on and takes over. “Five shots of tequila for our group!” she yells while leaning over the bartop so he can hear her.

Oh boy, you don’t know much but you know enough to feel safe assuming tonight will be wild if you’re starting with shots, of all things.

With about a month left until the show, deciding to let loose with the girls is exactly the kind of break you need. Dancing, drinks, and good friends. Looking around, you’re happy to see that you have all three. It’s all a part of tonight’s plan.

What you don’t plan for, however, is seeing Jimin in the middle of the dance floor with Kyra all over him. After practice today, this is a total slap in the face.

You aren’t sure if the progress you’ve been making with Jimin is just one-sided, or if you had been imagining it this whole time. It feels like you’re both taking two steps forward in the right direction and then something like this will happen, sending you ten steps back.

Your eyes are glued to Kyra’s body as she dances with him, her hips moving at the perfect speed. You can’t help but be jealous of her. Not only is she gorgeous and a great dancer, but she also has a way of demanding everyone’s attention in any room she graces. Although, there’s only one person’s attention you want right now, and from what it looks like, you doubt you’ll be getting his anytime soon.

“Oh my god, is that Luca?” Catalina asks with a surprised tone, pointing towards the opposite end of the bar, “No way, it can’t be.”

“It is,” you laugh nervously before looking away. You’re a little worried that he might remember that you’re under the legal drinking age, only by a year, but still. How embarrassing would it be for him to get you kicked out…

“That’ll be $42,” the bartender drones, pushing the over-spilling shot glasses toward your group and happily taking whichever girls’ fifty-dollar bill in return.

You lift your glass along with the others, “Here’s to letting go and having fun!”

The tequila burns the back of your throat but that doesn’t stop you from hollering, “Let’s go dance!”

You pull Madison and Catalina onto the dance floor, coming to an abrupt stop when your back collides with someone., “Oh my gosh, I am so sor–” You pause and stare at the dark-haired man, “Oh. Hi.”

“Hi ladies, I hope you’re not getting into too much trouble tonight,” Luca jokes with a wide smile displayed across his face. He looks gorgeous dressed in all black, the leather jacket tops off his outfit.

“Oh of course not, Mr. Black,” Catalina giggles playfully, “We’re all good girls here.”

He raises his eyebrow which makes each of you giggle, “I’m not so sure about that. Can I buy you all a drink? Or is that a little weird?”

You look around at the girls; they do the same.

“Uh, sure? Madison finally says, breaking up the awkward silence.

Cat and one of her friends entertain Luca’s conversation while they wait at the bar. You slyly peek over your shoulder while dancing, looking for you-know-who. You can’t find him, but you’re happy to see that Kyra has moved on to her next man of the night.

"Hey,” Luca says, walking towards you with an extra drink in hand. “Here you go. Shhh, it’s our little secret,” he says humorously.

You thank him for the drink, nervously swirling the ice with the slim black straw in your cup.

“I’m happy I ran into you,” he begins, “Can I talk to you for a second, alone?”

“Oh, uh, sure!” You nod to Cat, silently saying that you’ll catch up with her later. He smiles and pulls you aside from your friends.

“What’s up?” You ask tensely while Luca grins, running a hand through his hair.

“I just want to tell you how impressed I’ve been with your progress so far, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you at rehearsals.”

Oh my god.

“Really?” You gape.

“Absolutely,” he reaches for your hand, bringing you closer to him before bending down to plant his lips on yours. You freeze as he kisses you gently, entirely unsure of what to do in that situation.

He quickly pulls back after reading your body language, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Luca,” you say curtly, taking a step back, “I appreciate your tips in class and kind comments, but I think we should keep things professional here. You’re the choreographer and I’m a student...”

“Of course, I apologize again. How about I walk you back to your friends and we forget this happened?”

“That would be perfect.” You’re thankful that things don’t seem too awkward, and you only hope things will stay that way when you see each other Monday morning.

Jimin’s fingernails dig into the flesh of his palms as he clenches his fists. Fucking Luca Black. He was heading your way to say hi, but Luca led you in a different direction than the one your friends are heading to. He should have known better, but he follows behind slowly. And what he sees when he finally turns the corner doesn’t sit right with him.

Luca’s hand on your cheek as the two of you kiss. Jimin isn’t exactly sure who initiated it. And even though it’s eating him alive, he doesn’t want to know because it pains him either way.

He watches as Luca pulls away, and takes note of your stunned face. Jimin wants to believe that was because you didn’t enjoy it. He can’t hear what you’re talking about, and he truly wants to believe that Luca is making you uncomfortable based on your reaction to the kiss. But that hopeful thought is squashed as soon as you smile and take Luca’s hand, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor.

Jimin is still trying to process what he just witnessed even though you’re both long gone. He steps out of the shadows and throws his drink at the wall, ignoring the sound of the glass breaking behind him. Grumbling under his breath, Jimin takes the closest exit and slams the club door behind him.

He heads home with the hopes that a cold shower will ease his rage, but the cool water running down his back isn’t doing much for his boiling blood, nor is it getting rid of the image of Luca’s lips on yours. And inevitably, he can’t get you out of his head either which in turn results in him masturbating to those thoughts of you … which is anything but calming.

Jimin closes his eyes and imagines that it’s him kissing you, not Luca, and that he’s the one who has you pushed up against the wall. He can practically hear your soft whimpers, the ones you make when you’re doing partner stretches that always have him close to losing it right there in front of everyone at rehearsals.

But it isn’t him who’s stretching with you. His length quivers in his hand as he speeds up, trying to change his thoughts to you aroused in the club bathroom, his hand sliding underneath your dress and slipping into your panties. Jimin throws his head back at the image of you getting all worked up, but once again, it isn’t him that’s driving you wild. It’s Luca.

After the fifth attempt and still failing to picture himself with you, Jimin gives up. He groans, looking down at his length’s angry red tip that’s aching for release. And there’s only one thing that will give him that. You.

But not an imaginary you. The real you. The real you wanting him just as much as he wants you. He doubts that you ever will, not when you can have Luca instead.

Meaning that Jimin is basically screwed.

Monday is a killer. Jimin has been hateful to you all morning, and you genuinely have no idea why. He seems to be fuming now at the end of rehearsals, compared to the quiet angry vibe he was giving off earlier this morning.

“Hey, great job today Y/n. You’re doing phenomenal. I can’t wait to see this all come to life next week. See you tomorrow!”

“Thanks! Yes, see you tomorrow Luca.” You wave bye while he rushes out of the room, leaving just you and Jimin behind.

Jimin waits until Luca is out of earshot before saying anything. He’s been annoyed all day by your and Luca’s behavior after witnessing the two of you making out in the hallway of Wander.

He’s disgusted, even more so by the afterthoughts of Luca bringing you back to his place and taking advantage of you. Needless to say, he didn’t sleep much this weekend.

“God, you’re such a suck-up,” he criticizes, failing to hold back his evil words. “How special do you think you’re going to feel when the paid help you’re boning doesn’t remember your name the second he moves on to the next school and finds a new student to seduce?”

“Excuse me?”

“You can pretend all you want but I saw you Friday night. With him.”

Oh god…

You shake your head, “Jimin, I can explain–”

“Whatever, waitlist. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” He turns around and internally grimaces, upsetting you isn’t what he was going for. He’s pissed and unfortunately, you’re the only person he can take it out on. It’s a dick move to say things like that, especially since you deserve to be here just as much as everyone else.

Jimin knows he should just let it go, but he can’t help it. It’s been eating him alive all day. He’s pissed that you’re acting like a damn fool because of Luca’s attention. Luca’s eyes hadn’t left your body the entire day.

Fucking perv.

Jimin is more pissed that it’s bothering him so much. He shouldn’t care, he doesn’t–or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Jimin’s words stung, and you’re shaking out of pure anger. “What the fuck is your problem? I can handle the normal stick-up-your-ass behavior but it’s on a whole new level today. Chill out, okay? It isn’t what you think. Nothing happened after he kissed me. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but it actually made me, like, super uncomfortable and he apologized directly after. We both agreed it wasn’t professional, so piss off Jimin. And even if I did decide to take it further with Luca, it wouldn’t concern you. So stay out of it.” You’re near him when you finish, with crossed arms and eyes glaring.

It’s unbelievable Jimin would make such a comment; the last thing you need is for him to start telling people what he saw.

You know you would be harshly reprimanded for using a fake ID to get into a club, but also for accepting a drink from someone who is a teacher, and especially for kissing that same teacher.

Jimin is just as heated as you are. So his intuition was right that night. His anger only grows, wanting to punch Luca over and over again for making you uncomfortable like that. How could Luca not tell that you weren’t actually into him, but rather idolized him for his contributions to the dance world? How dare he use that against you to pull a move like that?

“Fine,” he growls in your face, totally furious at the situation, and furious with himself for caring this much about it–about you. You’re driving him crazy, even now when you’re pissed with him. It turns him on how strong and defensive you always are, and fuck, he wants to do something about it.

“Fine,” you snap back, taking another step forward as your eyes subconsciously lower to his parted mouth.

In a matter of milliseconds, your lips collide and your hands are all over each other’s bodies. He lifts you into his arms and slams your back into the mirrors. It’s a miracle that they don’t shatter from his force.

You gasp at the contact and Jimin takes the opportunity to shove his tongue further into your mouth. Your legs lock around his waist while you continue to explore each other’s mouths and bodies ravenously.

Jimin pulls away and tugs your leotard down your arms, freeing your breasts from the tight compression.

“You’re so fucking annoying, do you know that?” He snarls before leaving a line of rough kisses along your neck and down your chest. You whimper at the sensation and run your fingers through his hair.

“You’re so fucking loud, do you always have to say so much?” You moan in response.

Jimin is starved for your taste and can’t wait any longer. His hands travel down your side while his lips close over one of your soft peaks, sucking it in between his teeth.

You mewl, crashing your head back against the glass from the sheer amount of pleasure.

Jimin abruptly pulls away and brings his face back in front of yours. “What? Do you have something to say?” he asks with fire in his eyes. But with his lips replaced by his fingers, twisting and tugging, you’re helplessly tongue-tied.

He moves one hand lower and another soft moan escapes your lips, his middle finger dancing dangerously above your panties before dipping into your slickened folds.

Jimin knows exactly where and how to touch you, causing your head to spin. He feels himself hardening watching your face contort in pleasure, and nearly coming in his pants when you slowly lick your bottom lip, pulling it in between your teeth and letting out a long moan in the process.

“Mmm, Jimin,” you cry, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Jimin notices this and instantly pulls away. You don’t get to come that easily. Even though it makes him super fucking excited to see what his touch does to you. God, this is so much better than what he imagined.

You whimper at the loss of his touch, “What the fuck?”

“Turn around,” he demands, his eyes flooding with lust and a dash of something dark. He undresses you rather quickly, leaving your tights and leotard wrapped around your legs.

You decide you aren’t going to let him have all the fun, sneaking a hand back behind you. Jimin grits his teeth in pleasure as your hand slips into his pants. His length twitches in anticipation of feeling you wrapped around him. You pull his member out and lead him between your damp folds, moaning deliciously at the contact.

The scent of your arousal has now filled the room and Jimin can’t hold back any longer. He wants to fulfill his fantasy of taking you hard and fast, right here in front of the mirror. Without a warning he slams himself into you, causing you to lose your breath.

Your back is against him as he relentlessly pounds you from behind. The force of his thrusts are hard and you use your hands as leverage against the mirror to avoid being crushed by him, even though it would certainly be worth it.

Jimin brings a hand up around your neck and holds your head straight so he can watch when you come. You’re close and he knows just what to do.

“Say my name,” he demands, using his other hand to pinch your clit. “Look at me and say the name of the man who’s making you come like you never have before.”

“Jimin, oh my-” The waves of pleasure wash over your entire body, every inch of your skin tingles. You pulsate around him, but he’s not done with you yet.

“That’s damn right.” Jimin twists you around again, lifting you against the reflective glass. He keeps his fast pace, with a fistful of your hair held between his tightening fingers.

“You’re such a fucking slut. Look at you losing it over my cock,” he snarls with a clenched jaw, “I’m gonna fuck you like this until the rest of the class comes in.”

Jimin rams into you with twice the amount of force as before. “I’d make that fucking Italian bastard watch as I take you hard and make you feel this good.” He brings his lips up to your ear and whispers, “He could never,” before harshly biting your ear, sending you completely over the edge for a second time.

Jimin watches you unfold, your beauty completely mesmerizes him. Your entire body is on fire from oversensitivity while Jimin’s fingers rub your throbbing nub. You watch, completely hypnotized, as he brings his soaked fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean.

“Oh, don’t think we’re anywhere near done yet,” he smirks devilishly, moving his thumb back to your clit and rubbing in crude circles. Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation, and you can’t catch your breath. It’s too much.

Jimin hisses when your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight right now.” It isn’t long after those words leave his lips that he’s shuddering inside of you, his release shooting into the depths of your heat.

Your insides coil as you reach the peak of your third and final orgasm. Jimin holds your legs steady as you come hard over his cock, and swallows your moans with his mouth.

He slowly retreats out of you and presses his flushed cheek against yours. You can feel his heartbeat thumping out of control while you both catch your breath.

After a moment, he draws back and lowers you to the ground. You both chuckle at the state of your appearance. “I think I have a towel in my bag, one sec.” He says while tucking himself back into his pants as you readjust your hair, trying to make the whole ’i just had sex’ look a little less obvious.

You’re still breathing heavily when he returns to wipe you clean.

“Mmm,” you hum in total satisfaction, and still a little out of it - if you had to be honest. “I should piss you off more often.”

He gives you a look, “Hurry up and get dressed before anyone sees you.”

You’re the one to smirk this time, “I thought you wanted people to see me?”

“Haha, very funny.”

“Hurry up, you’re taking too long,” you whine while Jimin attempts to undo his stage pants as fast as he can.

“I’m trying,” he mutters, silently praying when his zipper finally works, “There we go.”

He lines himself up to you and pushes into your center.

You bite your lip to avoid making any noises as he stretches you out. The two of you are in the small storage closet behind the stage; there’s only about an hour or two until the opening night show starts.

Jimin thought you had to be joking at first when you whispered how badly you needed him after you both were dressed and ready to warm up with the rest of the dancers. But much to his delight, you weren’t kidding.

Hopefully, they won’t notice your absence. Who are you kidding, they probably know that you two are fucking. Plus, it’s kind of obvious when both lead roles go 'missing’ at the same time.

At first, he was torn between following you into the tight space–wanting to be in another tight space–and doing what he normally would call the right thing, which was preparing for tonight. But after seeing the look on your face, Jimin was quick to follow you into the closet.

“Shhh, you need to stay quiet,” Jimin grunts quietly with a hand over your mouth, silencing your moans.

You grip his shoulders as he quickens his pace, bringing you both over the edge.

“Holy fuck,” he quietly whines, the sensation of your inner walls clenching his length is addicting. It isn’t long after your sweet release that he’s quivering. He pulls out, knowing you can’t dance with his release filling you. He shudders one last time, his come shoots out and onto the wooden floor below.

You giggle, “Good thing we’re in a place that can clean that up.” you say referencing his load.

He rolls his eyes at your joke and leans in to give you a quick kiss, “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“Yes, typically.”

You flatten out your costume and zip each other up, leaving the closet one at a time. You first of course, since you needed to touch up your makeup now. Leaving Jimin behind to clean up his mess.

About fifteen minutes later you meet Jimin backstage to practice, stretch, and chat along with everyone else. The jitters are bouncing off of everyone and you can’t stand still from excitement, a little nervousness too. But mostly excitement.

“Jimin, are you feeling okay? You look a little stiff and tired if I must say…” Madam Jamie mentions after watching him practice a few scenes.

“Nothing to worry about Madam, had a tiring warm-up is all. Not to worry though, I am more than ready for tonight.”

Madam Jamie reminds him how important rest and lots of water are when practicing hard before moving along to the next student.

“Hmmm, what is it that you usually tell me?” You begin, giving him a coy look, “Oh right. 'Just dance it off.’ That should fix your issue, correct?” You look down at his crotch, and back up at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, daring you to go on.

“After our vigorous warmup, I’m sure you do. But we’re going on stage soon. So suck it up, sweetie.”

He can’t wait to make you regret that statement when he teases you later tonight. He had big plans to celebrate. And knowing you, you would love them.

#jimin fanfic #jimin oneshot #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts fanfic #bts smut #jimin bts #park jimin #ksmutsociety #kvanity #shadowkoo #300

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insomanic-fanfication · 5 months ago

Note

Hey, I really liked your Dick Grayson sfw and nsfw alphabets! When you have the time, can I request either of those for Jason Todd? Thanks 😊

Jason Todd SFW Alphabet

Author's note: Of course! I planned on doing his anyway after finishing some of my drafts. But that's taking a little longer than I thought it would. CW:

Alphabet Under the cut!

Affection: How affectionate are they? How do they show it?

Jason isn't really affectionate, at least in open places. He's got way too many people wanting his head on a pike. Family and friends know you two are dating; however, if someone on the outside saw you two, they would have no idea. However, when you two are alone, his true colors bleed through. His personality is similar to that of a huge dog that hasn't figured out they can't be a lap dog anymore. Laying his head on your lap while you do your own things. He is reading a book, and you do one of your hobbies. Just decompressing from the day Comfortably in science and enjoying the other's presence. Will 100% fall asleep if you start playing with his hair.

Best Friend: What are they like as best friends? How would you become best friends?

Unless he needed to ask you for something, you would probably have had to make the first move toward friendship. Jason gets very lonely, but trying to meet new people on his own accord is not part of his personality. If he approached you, it would be one of two things; 1. You did something that impressed him, or 2. Dick was pestering him about meeting new people too much, and he caved to make Dick leave him alone.

Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? How would they?

Jason hesitates to cuddle at first; it's not that he hates it, but more so, he fears it. For the most part, positive physical interaction is a foreign concept in his body. For the first few times he cuddles, he will flinch, and it doesn't matter which one of you enacted it. But once he gets to the point of cuddling, where you two can cuddle, he is relaxed? Your fate is sealed. You've created a monster! Anytime you're not busy in the apartment, it's cuddle time, and no protests are allowed. Will get pouty if you have to get up.

Domestic: Do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning?

Jason is one of the Batfam members who would settle down in a heartbeat, even if it's just for a year or two. He craves at least some normality. But if he does, no one can protect the ones he loves, at least not well, in his opinion. Unlike his brothers, Jason is an excellent cook and even a chef with his skills. One of his favorite early memories is helping and learning to cook with Alfred. He's also very good at cleaning, partly cause his spaces are the bare-bone things to live in. However, he likes to clean his apartment or space once weekly as a coping mechanism. It's something he feels he is in complete control over. However, if you find him randomly deep-cleaning a room or his apartment. BE AFRAID; he's not okay, no matter how often he tries to tell you he is alright. For him, that is grippy sock stay levels that are not okay.

Ending: If they had to break up? How would they?

Like Dick, if you two broke up and he was the one that broke it off, it was due to him having an episode. But unlike Dick, it would be out of paranoia. Jason would make himself believe that your life will be destroyed. or you'll die because you are dating him. He would most likely ghost you and not actually break up with you. Because the words would pain him too much to say out loud. Only coming to his senses after the episode has passed, realizing his actions, and imminently finding you in person, terrified he fucked up everything between you both.

Fiance: How do they feel about commitment? How long before they pop “the question”?

Jason didn't want marriage for a long while, too terrified that it would make something go wrong. However, the longer the relationship goes on, nothing terrible happens like he expected. The more the thought of marriage would come into his mind. Asking what your thoughts on marriage are one night while cuddling.

Gentle: How gentle are they? Both physically and Emotionally?

Jason is incredibly gentle with his partners, partly due to his personality and partly because he fears accidentally hurting you. He's a little rough around the edges emotionally, though, mostly because he's not used to being a completely open book to people.

Hugs: Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?

Jason hugs like a dad coming home after a long trip. He'll hug your waist and lift you, keeping you in his arms with the biggest smile. He'll kiss your forehead while you feel the warmth of his body around you.

I love you: How fast do they say the L-word?

Jason would be extremely slow to say the actual' I love you' wording, but he would make up for it in physical affection and words of affirmation. Holding you as close as he can while telling you how much you mean to him and how great of a partner you are to him. So, people may mistake it for love bombing, which added to his other behavior. But it's because it's so hard for him to verbally tell you he loves you. He feels he needs to say it to you in other words, so you know how much his heart bleeds for you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? What would they do?

Jason gets super jealous; he won't control who you talk to or anything like that. He knows you have a life outside your guy's relationship, and it's not his place to manage. But he's protective of you and gets jealous when others flirt with you because, in the back of his mind, it's hard for him to believe someone would date him. So he's worried that you'll find someone more accessible to love, and you'll give up on him. Does it sound balls off the wall crazy? Yes, but mental illness is rarely something that likes to make sense.

Kissing: What are their kisses like? Where do they like to be kissed/ kiss you?

Jason loves it when you kiss places on him that are generally done on the submissive partner, such as his knuckles, neck, forehead, etc. He finds them so comforting and feels very loved.

Little ones: How are they around kids?

Jason is great around kids unless it's his brothers. Generally speaking, though, he's very good with kids. Sometimes, he understands what's okay for a kid or not. He'll let a toddler he's watching fidget with an unloaded gun if they are very interested in it. But he'll explain to the kid in terms they understand gun safety and how you know a gun is loaded or not. Telling the kid you never treat a gun like it's a toy. It is a 100% safe choice for a kid to go to if they can't find their parent.

Morning: How are they during the mornings?

He's a morning person but a lazy morning person. He'll wake up at 5-6 and do dishes, eat, and do morning stretches, but he will not do any actual work until around noon. God forbid the poor man has a morning shift, no matter what his day job is. He'll be the grumpiest man in the world, but he hides it well from clients/ customers. Some of his coworkers get very confused of this very quick change of mood, but others just see that, and think 'Same brick wall dude, Same'.

Nights: How are they spent with them?

He is a huge Night Owl, wither that be doing the bulk of his work at Night, or having a nice cuddle session with you while having a smoke on the fire escape of the apartment. He is a very light sleeper, or deep sleep with every hour or so waking back up. He also has a lot of night terrors, so he tends to avoid sleep, ESPECIALLY if you are staying over at his place. He has a lot of 'what if i hurt you..' paranoia.

Open: When would they start revealing things about themselves?

Try to get Jason to open up, is like trying to open a can with no can opener. You may have be in a relationship with him for 5 years, and still not know everything about him. Not because he doesn't trust you not to use that against him. But because he struggles with knowing WHEN to open up about things in a relationship. He wants to make sure your twos relationship is a healthy as it can be, which every now and then dose end up causing problems. Especially when he's having a ptsd episode and you feel helpless within how to help him through it.

Patience: How easily angered are they?

He tries to be a laid back person, tries to be, is the wording there, he doesn't have a hair thin trigger, but sometimes his trauma just gets triggers by something he doesn't even see the connection to, so he's in a pissed off fight response for a bit. He does, however go to anger management therapy to try and help these behavior issues. But somethings slip through the cracks before they can be brought up in therapy. This does not stop him from bragging to his siblings, that he's the only one taking care of his mental health.

Quizzes: They remember everything or nothing about you?

It's like a scale, sometimes he remembers everything, other times he can't remember your favorite hoodie, (it's the one that's been used as a pillowcase for 3 months, because he missed holding you). He can dissociate for a long awhile, but him also bottling up his emotions plays a bigger role in this.

Remember: What is their favorite memory in the relationship?

The first time you fell asleep while cuddling with him. You both were watching cheesy 90s slashers for Halloween night, snuggled in almost a cocoon of blankets and snacks. When he turned to check on why you had been so quiet, you had falling asleep while being snuggled so far into him, that he half expected for you to fuse into his side. The amount of trust you had for him, the emotions he felt was too much and he ended up crying for the first time in years. the tears feeling like they were burning his eyes, but it's still a memory he holds closest to his heart.

Security: How protective are they? How would you protect each other?

No matter what your appearance is, wither that be tall and lanky or short n stout. Jason tends not to need a lot of physical protection, but you are most defiantly the protector of his emotional peace and social battery. Think of it like a Pitbull done with his guarding of the house for the day, so runs to their favorite human to become the biggest cuddle bug on earth. That's Jason Todd, (He's very Resurce dog coded, don't blame me, blame DC). He very much, however, is scary looking guard dog for you. He could kill someone with his death glare sometimes.

Try: How much effort would they put into dates, gifts, anniversaries, etc?

Jason puts an extreme amount of effort into your anniversaries, gifts and dates! He's not a social able person, so don't expect fancy Lucious dinner dates at a 5 star restaurant. They make him very uncomfortable, thinking everyone's eyes are on him. But he will make you the most romantic and gushy homemade dinners, your favorite flowers or candy. Cooking Red type pastas with red wine or cooking a Hispanic dish that learned while growing up around crime ally.

Ugly: What are some bad habits of theirs?

He has a bad habit of pushing you away, instead of telling you what's up. For better, or for worse. Sometimes it's because his crime lord days caught up to close to him, and for your safety he pushed you away. Or on the worse side of things, he's terrified you'll look at him as a monster or not understand where he's coming from with his trauma and his poor mental health, so he tries to keep them from you as long as possible, until he has no choice to tell you, or lose the relationship he has built with you.

Vanity: How concerned are they with their looks?

Honestly, Yes and no, like he cares about his looks more than a person would think, but like.. slightly more. He's not gonna shower every single day on the dot and shave his pubic hair into a sharp clean design. But he absolutely cares about keeping up good hygiene. Though he does have issues with cleaning his teeth, nothings rotting in there, but he is brushing his teeth waaay less than he really should be.

Whole: Would they feel incomplete without you?

No, unless you two date each other until your 4 years into retirement and you die of old age. He will be able to feel the same before you to started dating, because he feels incomplete on a regular basis. Like he isn't able to do enough, BE a enough for anyone to see him how he is as a person now.

Xtra: Random headcanon for them?

Jason use to smoke weed, especially in his teen years, regularly. But now he smokes cigs, problary Marlboro's or Lucky Strikes maybe Camels , and eats edibles every now and then to help with muscle pain and mood swings. (he still hasn't figure out if meds are worth not being able to have a beer whenever he wants.)

He knows he has PTSD, maybe C-PTSD, however he's not quite sure or not that he has BPD or a similar disorder, he's mainly just not internally ready to know the answer to that part of himself just yet. He's barely processed his feelings towards his Mother, so he's not there yet in his healing journey.

Yuck: What are some things they don’t like, in general, or in a partner?

if you have bad few of poor people or think poor people are only poor because they chose to be. Than I'm sorry, but Jason is more likely to pop a bullet in your head than he is to see you in a good light, let alone a romantic one.

Zzz: What is their sleeping habit?

Either waking up every 1 to 2 hours, or only sleeping 30mins to 3 hours and then staying up for the rest of the night or start cleaning or smoking a cig outside.

#crow!writes #fanfication blog #dc comics #x reader #sfw alphabet #jason todd x reader #jason todd x male reader #male reader #gender neutral reader #mlm fanfic #fanfic blog

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gorbo-longstocking · 15 days ago

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Do Not Blame the Sea | Chapter One

Pairing: Emperor Geta/Reader, Emperor Caracalla/Reader

Summary: Everyday, you woke up and performed the steps necessary to complete your routine. It was monotonous, like clockwork, as you traveled down the tracks laid out for you since birth. With a mind uncontested, you found yourself graduating college before you were legally an adult, and at the behest of your controlling parents, you continued on to medical school, then further on into a surgical residency at a nearby hospital. You had always wanted to help people and this was the best way to do it.

So, why, with everything you had ever wanted at your fingertips, were you so unhappy?

Maybe that was why when you awoke in the past, surrounded by farmland instead of your blankets that you decided to ‘just roll with it’ rather than scream. That was your motto now as you were unceremoniously dropped from your assigned path onto untrodden ground with no hope of going back. So, even when you saved the life of a soldier and were carted off into the heart of the corrupt Roman Empire to be the twin emperor’s new physician, you barely batted an eye.

After all, you would do anything to save your patients.

Tags: Time travel, transmasc reader, no use of y/n, eventual polyamory, no incest, period-typical attitudes, Caracalla doesn’t have syphilis but he has PTSD, mentions of slavery, both historical accuracy and historical inaccuracy, obsessive behavior, eventual smut in later parts, medical inaccuracies,

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Part Two

Authors Note: Hiiiiiii, I’m back at it again, starting another fic. Those freaky gingers have bewitched me, let me tell you. Anyway, some important things to note about this little fanfiction that I feel the need to clarify before we get into the real meat and potatoes.

First and foremost, Geta and Caracalla won’t show up until chapter two. Maybe even chapter three, it depends on how much more set up I write, so if you want to wait ‘till then to read this, you’re welcome to :3

Two, and very important, unlike my other fics where the reader is trans, but referred to with they/them pronouns or neutral language, this main character will be referred to with he/him pronouns and masculine language in the text because, as a plot point, they are assumed to be a cis man. Along with this, they have three descriptions in the text. They have dyed green hair — original hair color shan’t be mentioned — they have top surgery scars, and they have a vagina. I miiiiight make an accidental reference to heights (ex. ‘ooked up at him/looked down at him) but I will try my hardest to not.

While their real name will never be mentioned in text for self-insertion purposes, Geta and Caracalla come up with the nickname ‘Alga’ for them due to their green hair. It means ‘seaweed’ in Latin. It also means ‘something of little worth.’ :) So, that is how they’ll be referred to. Generally. It’s either that or ‘medicus’ or ‘physician’ or ‘you there.’

Third and finally, I am a huge nerd and fan when it comes to the Roman Empire. As a society, they have a bunch of hangups, taboos, and beliefs, mostly around sex, that I find incredibly funny and will pepper in here and there. I will try to make this fic as historically accurate as I possibly can using all the resources I have at my disposal (google, a few academic texts, and my best friend whose studying classical history) but there’s no guarantee I get all of it right. Half the reason I’m using a modern character as the main POV is so they have an excuse not to know things 😭 Also when it comes to conjugation of Latin words, please, PLEASE give me leeway, I haven’t taken a Latin class since high school.

All that said, I hope whoever reads this fic enjoys it, because that is my main goal. Writing is seriously a passion of mine and my favorite part about it is sharing it with people. That means YOU person reading this, I think you’re awesome.

Okay I’m done talking, on with the show!!

Chapter One ///

This dream sucked — because that was what this was, a very bad dream — and, if you had to guess, it was the worst dream you had ever had in your life. Which was saying something. As a surgical resident who did most of their studying in a hospital, you were chronically sleep deprived and had a lot of stressful material to work with. Whatever aid you used to help you get some semblance of rest had a tendency to give you weird dreams. Very, very weird dreams. You had a few recurring ones, like being chased by a sentient pool noodle — whatever that meant — and several where the ghosts of your patients blamed you for their deaths — far more self explanatory than the pool noodle — but none quite like this one.

Out of everything you had ever experienced in your bleak and desolate mindscape, this dream was long and boring. That was its only crime. Along with being terrifyingly vivid, of course, which you didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about. If you were any less logical, you’d almost be convinced this was reality. That you had woken up in a small farming village, close enough to the capital of one of the most infamous ancient empires that you could see it on the horizon. Sometimes, when the sun set, you would stare at the shadow of Rome dancing upon the skyline. It was beautiful, albeit impossible. Sure, the people who surrounded you only spoke Latin, and they didn’t trust you as far as they could throw you, but it wasn’t as if that mattered. Soon, you would awake in your bed, one day closer to your exam and the beginning of the rest of your life.

Why did the thought only fill you with a sinking sense of dread? Being a doctor was everything you had ever worked for. Helping people, saving people, it was your purpose, the very reason you were born with your exceptional mind. It was your destiny, so why did it feel like you were marching to the gallows?

You shook your head to rid yourself of these thoughts. Focus on the present, focus on the dream, it was far easier than the constant ever present march of time. It was why you were so certain that the predicament was a figment of your imagination. Time hated you, constantly pulling on your leash, dragging your forward even as you dug your heels into the muck. It would never, never move backwards. Not for you.

Never for you.

A low groan of despair rumbled in your throat as you tried your best to wash your filthy scrubs in a nearby river. The water wasn’t murky, but it wasn’t clear either. Unsurprising, considering the nearby village used this water for practically everything. They were close enough to the city to have access to aqueducts, carrying waste hopefully further downstream. You were determined not to think about it. Any other denizen of this small settlement would wash their clothes themselves. The village was too small for a fullonica, and you were pretty sure they were mostly meant for the wealthy. That said, you also knew that Romans used urine to wash clothes — thank you to the ancient civilization classes you took for fun — and you’d be damned before you let a random person’s piss touch your scrubs.

Outside of work, at least.

With your pants rolled up to your knees as you waded deeper into the water, you continued to do what you could to clean the few clothes you had on you. Considering you only had a little bottle of soap you stole from a hotel a few months ago, it was easier said than done. You wanted to ration what you had in case this dream went on for much longer. Just because this was a fictional scenario conjured by your stress addled mind didn’t mean you weren't going to go about things logically. You had already been asleep for three days now, who knew how much longer this neverending dream would last? Perhaps forever. The thought of avoiding reality as you waste away in your bed was far more comforting than it should have been.

A loud shout echoed to your right and you fought the urge to shoot a nasty glare at the <i>obviously</i> young soldiers goofing off several yards away. Well, young was a strong word, they were the same age as you. Probably. You couldn’t really tell considering how staunch you were in your decision to not make eye contact. Out of the handful of men playing in the water, they were all naked. It wasn’t that nudity bothered you, you were studying healthcare for Christ’s sake, it was the unfortunate fact that soaking wet, muscular hunks were a particular weakness of yours. You weren’t sure the soldiers would appreciate your ogling, the villagers already avoided you like the plague. Judging by the dirty looks you received from some of the, unfortunately armed and notoriously xenophobic men, they’d heard enough about you to be wary.

You let out another sigh, your scrubbing becoming a tad more vigorous. Soapy bubbles rose to the surface of the water and your face was screwed up in concentration.

This particular Roman century had arrived at the village only a half-day after you did. From what you could pick up from eavesdropping, instead of being sent to North Africa to get a little conquering done, their legion was shipped to Gaul to put an end to some dissent. Once that was over, the officer in charge received orders to head back to Rome so they could be sent to North Africa with the rest of the troops. They had only stopped at the village for a last bit of rest before their next assignment. Or something. You had been noticed, and you had scurried off the second you realized you were caught.

Letting out a small huff, you examined your scrubs and decided that they were as clean as they would get. Once you were back at shore, you wrung out the fabric the best you could before laying them flat on a rock beside the only other outfit you had, aside from the one you were wearing, to dry in the sun. Another bark of laughter drew your eye to the soldiers playing like schoolboys in the river. Weren’t these men hardened warriors of one of the most regimented militaries to exist? Surely, they should be more disciplined. Still, you couldn’t help the small smile that caused your lips to twitch upwards. Even thousands of years in the past, and in your dreams, humans were the same as they had always been.

The sun was warm, hanging overhead like an unripe cherry tomato. You closed your eyes to bask in it a bit more than necessary. Your skin prickled, indicating that there were eyes on you, though you didn’t particularly care. No footsteps approached you and the sound of laughter didn’t stop, so you figured you were safe enough to show your belly. You didn’t realize you had laid down until you felt grass tickle the back of your neck. Perhaps a little nap wouldn’t hurt. A dream within a dream would be rather funny, you thought as you fell into a light doze, lulled by the sound of soldiers playing.

You didn’t know how long you slept for. It was the sound of panic that woke you, sending you upright so fast, your head spun. The first thing you noticed was the merriment had stopped and had given way to an oppressive sense of desperation. You looked in the direction you had been avoiding all day to see a gaggle of soldiers, some clothed, some naked, dragging an unconscious body onto shore. One man was running with his tunic halfway over his head in the direction of the village, yelling for the centurion in charge. You were moving before you could stop yourself.

“Make way! Make way!” Your Latin was shaky, but not the worst in the world. While you were sure your accent was strange, you knew you were at least understandable as some of the men turned to block you from getting any closer. They didn’t look particularly pleased at your arrival, eyeing both your hair and your odd attire with an air of skepticism. You didn’t have time for this. “I am a doctor. A physician. I can help him, we must act fast.”

One of the soldiers raised a singular thick eyebrow. “A physician, you say? You look like no medicus I have ever seen.”

“Does that really matter?!” You shouted, your voice a harsh bark. The longer this went on, the less of a chance you had to save this man. While you were nervous to plow through the wall of stout muscle that blocked you from your prospective patient, you realized you might have to.

The soldier looked like he wanted to say something more, when an authoritative voice broke through the ranks. “Let the man through! We have lost too many as is without losing another to a few hours of games.”

Every head snapped in the direction of whoever spoke. All except yours. The second you saw a gap in the crowd, you slid through and fell to your knees beside the drowned man, the one you determined to save.

First thing you did was check for responsiveness. It was out of habit mostly. A tap on the shoulder, a shout, another tap. He didn’t respond, that was unsurprising.

When you checked for a pulse, you found none, so you began chest compressions. Placing your hands together on his chest, arms straight, you began to push. The rhythm came to you naturally — you had made sure to pay attention in class, and this wasn’t the first time you had done this. Despite the fact that you knew no support was coming, that if you couldn’t get this man back by yourself, he would die, your head remained clear.

Do not lose sight of your goal, do not lose hope, go until you can’t anymore.

After thirty compressions, you took a deep breath, pinched his nose shut, and tilted his head back, placing your mouth over his. You heard a few gasps, and even a cry of disgust as you pulled back to push another breath into his lungs. Determined to pay the growing crowd no mind, you placed your hands on his chest and began to pump his heart again.

This went on for… like with your nap, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you were drenched in sweat, your arms were sore, and your breath coming out in harsh pants. Thirty more compressions, you inhaled a ragged breath and pushed oxygen into his lungs once more. If this didn’t work, you’d have to call it.

There was a hand on your chest, shoving you away, a watery cough filling your mouth with spittle before the drowned man flailed back to life. You didn’t take offense to the harsh treatment. He had woken up to a kiss. That would startle anyone. You rolled him over on his side and rubbed his back as he hacked up a lungful of murky water and whatever he had eaten for breakfast.

“You’re back,” You muttered softly, as comforting as you could. “Breathe. Slow and steady. It feels good to be back, doesn’t it?”

The man met your eyes, his own a startling shade of honey, a confused, but grateful, smile on his lips. “I thought I was gone.”

“Yeah, we all thought that!” A soldier with a shaved head nudged him roughly with his toe. “Medicus here worked a miracle with his lips.”

A hand reached down to clasp your shoulder, shaking you firmly, if not playfully. You looked up to see a man with floppy blond curls grinning down at the man you just saved, his lips pursed. “The kiss of life!”

You let a small, uncomfortable laugh titter from your mouth. Being surrounded by so many people was awkward, and their banter was even more so. You felt entirely out of place. Rather than focus on that, you fixed your attention back on the man you saved.

“What’s your name?”

“Sextus Aelius,” He answered, voice hoarse.

With a small smile, you gestured to another soldier to hand you a nearby tunic. Sextus — you wouldn’t laugh about his name, you wouldn’t — had begun to shiver, even in the hot sun, and you wanted to keep him warm. Not to mention he was still naked. You tried not to study him too much, focusing on the sharpness of his jaw and the gentle slope of his nose rather than his nudity.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Sextus, I am—” You were cut off by a cacophony of noise, a few whistles interspersed within. A bit of heat rose to your face when you saw Sextus’ bewildered expression. “I fear I have made a blunder.”

To your relief, he merely laughed. “Aelius. Call me Aelius.”

“Right. I apologize, Aelius. How do you feel?”

Once you had given him the tunic, he slipped it on over his head, covering his modesty — not that anyone but you seemed to care all that much about it. When he stood, two men came to his side to steady him. Despite this, he still offered you his hand. It would be rude to deny him, though you didn’t feel comfortable accepting help from a man who had been, by many’s standards, dead a few minutes before. You gave him a small smile and pushed yourself to stand on your own.

“I could be better.” His grin was lopsided, the boyish kind that showed off his teeth. It was endearing enough for you to be proud of saving a good man, rather than a mere man. When he spoke next, there was no small amount of awe in his voice. “You saved my life, I am not sure if that is something I can repay.”

A snort pulled from your throat as you waved him off. “No repayment necessary, I only did what needed to be done.”

Aelius looked about to argue when he paled, his gaze flickering behind you. There was a creeping sensation of unease crawling up your spine, similar to when you had earned your parents displeasure. Standing behind you was a presence, one with enough authority to cause the men around you to stand at attention.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem directed at you. For now.

“What is the meaning of this, boy? I allow a bit of slacking off and you go and die on me?” It was the voice from before, the one who commanded his men to let you through. Taking a guess, you’d say this man was the centurion leading this particular century back to Rome. You didn’t dare look behind you, you didn’t dare move. Anything to keep his frustration off of you. It didn’t last long. A large hand clasped you on the shoulder, grip firm, but not harsh. “And to be saved by a foreigner! You should be on your knees thanking him for whatever trick on the gods he played at your behest.”

“That is unnecessary,” You tried to argue, only for the centurion to give you another shake.

“A humble medicus at that! Lucky boy! Very, very lucky!” He let go of you and gestured for Aelius to be taken elsewhere. “To the tents with you while I think of a suitable punishment. No man has died and lived to tell the tale on my watch, so I must be creative.”

Aelius, at least, looked ashamed, though the man with the floppy blond hair leaned down to whisper in his ear, a smirk dancing on his lips. Whatever was said earned him an elbow to the ribs. Men never change.

Before they could get too far, you found your voice. “Monitor him through the night! Fetch me if he stops breathing again!”

It was only once you heard the affirmative did you relax. Which lasted a moment before the centurion turned you around so you were facing him. His gaze was hard and his arms were crossed over his chest. Unlike the men before, the centurion was wearing his full armor, save for his helmet, another thing you were thankful for. You were not easily intimidated, but this man? He could crack you like a peanut.

After a moment of sizing you up, his eyes trailing from your clothes, so different from his own, with trousers instead of a tunic and a graphic t-shirt in an alphabet he knew, but words he couldn’t understand, to your green dyed hair. He didn’t seem impressed. In fact, he seemed suspicious.

“Lucius Marianus.” Unfurling one of his hands, he held it for you to shake.

With an awkward smile, you took his hand and introduced yourself. His grip grew a bit tighter at the sound of your obviously foreign name. You fought the urge to run away.

“A pleasure, Marianus.” This time, you called him by his second name, determined not to make the same mistake as earlier with a less forgiving man.

“Where are you from?” Quick and to the point, you could respect that. Logically, you knew that this wasn’t real, that ultimately, this was your dream and you held all the power, but there was a little voice in the back of your head telling you to be careful. “Are you a citizen, a slave, or a free-man?”

Licking your dry lips, you let your hand fall to your side, shoving it in your pocket before Marianus could see that you had begun to shake. “I am from a country far away. Across the western sea, farther than any have ever gone. I am a citizen of my country, but not of Rome, and I am no slave, so I suppose that makes me a free-man.”

“You suppose?” He pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. “Well, I ‘suppose’ I won’t assume you’re a liar and a runaway. If I hadn’t just witnessed that…” Marianus paused, searching for the right word, and you hoped it would be one you recognized. “Technique of yours, I would figure just that. Tell me, medicus, what exactly did you do to one of my men?”

“I, uh…” Your tongue felt too big for your mouth. Whatever answer you gave this man, it better be satisfactory. All you could hope for was that the truth would be enough. “His heart was no longer beating, so I pressed upon his chest as hard as I could in the same rhythm that his heart would take.”

Marianus nodded, his expression contemplative. “And the kiss?”

“It was not a kiss!” The words burst forth before you could stop them, your face flaring even hotter. This entire conversation was reminiscent of one you would have with your father, and Marianus’ disapproval was getting to you more than it should. “I was breathing air into his lungs. I inhale, pinch his nose shut so the air doesn’t escape through his sinuses, and then blow into his mouth. If his chest rises, I am doing the procedure correctly.”

“Still, an intimate gesture to bestow upon a stranger.” His lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. You got the feeling he was teasing you now. “From what I can gather, this technique of yours mimics the functions of life in order to coaxe the spirit back into its vessel.”

You blinked, opening your mouth to argue with scientific facts. A beat passed before you snapped your jaw shut with an audible click. Better to not look a gift horse in the mouth. “I, uh, yes. It does. That is exactly it. You are a very intelligent man, Marianus, perhaps a career in medicine is calling your name.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, medicus.”

An awkward grimace pulled at your lips. “Right.”

Marianus was both unmoved and undeterred by your lame response. You expected him to leave you be. After all, despite the fact that you saved one of his men from drowning, you were still an outsider to both the village, the army, and Rome. In your head, he owed you nothing, all you did was your duty and you expected nothing in return. Marianus seemed to think otherwise.

“Where have you been sleeping, medicus?” With a sharp nod of his head, he gestured to your duffel bag and drying clothes. “I assume outside in the heat considering how poorly you are spoken of in town. Looking and speaking as you do, it’s no wonder anyone is hesitant to even allow you to sleep in their barn.” Again, the edges of his mouth curled upwards. “You are far more useful than previously anticipated. For once, I am happy to have my assumptions proven false.”

“Um, thanks?”

“Fetch your belongings, there are more men waiting to be your patients back at camp.”

You blinked, dumbfounded, before a sharp raise of Marianus’ black eyebrows broke you from your spell. If there were more people to be treated, you didn’t have to be told twice. With a bit of pep in your step, excited to have something to do rather than waste away in tedium, you stuffed your, now dry, clothes into your bag and slung it over your shoulder. Marianus eyed it with no small amount of reservation.

“Do you carry any weapons?”

You thought about your taser and pepper spray tactically placed in an easy to reach pocket on the side. “No. As a doctor, I consider myself a pacifist.”

Marianus snorted. “A good way to die.”

“Better to die giving life than taking it,” You replied easily. This wasn’t a lie. While you didn’t fault other’s for violence — how could you fault human nature? — you would rather heal before harm. A part of you hoped to balance the scales, do enough good to make the bad seem worth it. It was a lofty goal, one you tried not to dwell on. So long as you managed to help even a single person in your life, you would be happy, though you’d never confine yourself to such a meager goal. “If you don’t mind me asking, do your men not already have a doctor to treat them? Why take on a stranger’s help?”

“We did. He is no longer with us.”

You frowned. “A shame. Lose one soldier, and you only lose one man. Lose a doctor and your losses double. I never met him, but I’ll remember him fondly.”

“You’re soft. It’s a shame.” His words made you raise your eyebrows, and, when you looked at him, there was pity in his dark eyes, though it was only there for a second.

Marianus clamped his hand on the back of your neck and began to steer you in the direction of the camp. With few trees in sight, only lush farms and tall grass, the countryside was a sight to behold. You glanced over your shoulder to see the river and the village disappearing in the distance. While the road the two of you walked on was dirt, it was well trodden, no stones or holes to trip over. This truly was the Roman Empire. How your mind managed to conjure an image so beautiful and so unmistakably alien was beyond you.

“Has there been anyone caring for the injured?” You asked.

“Our veterinarius has been doing what he can, though I don’t like it. These are men, not animals.” To punctuate his displeasure, Marianus spit on the ground.

You nodded placatingly as you approached the first cluster of tents. Some of the soldiers recognized you, though you didn’t recognize them in return. Word traveled fast when you save someone’s life, you supposed. “I’m sure he’s doing his best.”

“His best is not enough,” Marianus grumbled.

Before you could respond, the stench of infection and sick filled your senses. If you hadn’t done clinicals or worked in healthcare while you completed your studies, it would have caught you off guard. Instead of blanching, you took your last deep breath of clean air, and braced yourself as much as you could. Marianus almost seemed impressed by the determination on your face as you pulled back the flap of the tent, joining a frazzled looking man — the veterinarius, you assumed — in his rounds.

All you could do was your best, and you intended for that to be enough.

Even as a student, you had steeled your heart to the worst suffering had to offer. Growing up as you did, with parents more interested in results than feelings, it became all too easy to turn off your bleeding heart and do what was necessary. By now, it was as simple as breathing.

Your bedside manner was gentle as you helped a few men, too injured to move, drink water from a ladle. If you were any less busy, you would have insisted it be boiled. Marianus would likely scold you, it was unrealistic for an entire century to boil water for every sick man, let alone every soldier, no matter how sound your advice was. Posca would do for now, as it always had.

For hours, you worked tirelessly, cleaning wounds and calming fevers. You were lucky modern medicine wasn’t all that you studied. In order to help as many people as you could, you focused on ancient and holistic practices as well, though you had an easy preference for the tried and true methods. There was no denying that you were a medical prodigy, a genius for all intents and purposes. It wasn’t that you had an ego — well, maybe you did — it was the fact that it was the truth. You had graduated college before you had turned eighteen and gone through medical school soon after. Right now, you were the youngest student going through their surgical residency in your state, perhaps even the country if you dared to let your pride swell. All of this, your parents would call their doing, that you would be nothing without their guidance.

You grimaced in the middle of setting a skinny man’s broken arm. Better not think about them now, it would only serve to stress you out even further. For all your skill, you caught yourself floundering inside the medical tent, Marianus watching from the entrance as you flitted from patient to patient, and the veterinarius sitting back to take a much needed break. While you had some supplies on you — a stethoscope, a sphygmomanometer, a Taylor hammer, none of which you’d utilized yet, a bottle of antiseptic, some ibuprofen, and three clean syringes — it wasn’t enough for you to feel comfortable. Which was ridiculous, this was your dream, you could do whatever you wanted.

Then again, if that was true, then why were you fumbling through even simple procedures? You didn’t feel comfortable using more invasive methods, not unless you had no other choice. The likelihood of survival was low, even with your steady hands. Perhaps this was a nightmare, a look into what life will be like once you were done with your schooling. Your slumbering mind was preparing you to be the failure you were always meant to be.

Shaking your head, you focused your attention back on your patient. No one seemed to notice your lapse, not even you. You were quite good at multitasking, mixing self-deprecation with stringent work ethic like a talented seamster. The skinny man was lucky it was a clean break, and even luckier, it wasn’t his humerus, which would have been more complicated given your lack of equipment. A bit of sweat trickled down your forehead as you stood, surveying the men around you. You had done well given the circumstances, but you still couldn’t help but feel as though it wasn’t enough.

Nothing was ever enough.

Even dreaming, you felt tired.

Three men had infected wounds. One was oozing pus, which apparently was a good thing according to the veterinarius and Marianus, though you still took care to clean the wound thoroughly. Another man had a fever due to the infection, and, after washing your hands, you took care to clean it as the other. After much reassurance that it wasn’t poison to Marianus — consisting of taking one yourself — you also gave him an ibuprofen for his fever, though you decided you were going to ration them unless it was an emergency. The third man was a bit harder, enough necrotic tissue forming around the infection that you considered surgery. For now, you introduced maggots to the area, a treatment Marianus seemed to approve of, if not with some disgust. In the morning, you would check the wound, and then surgically remove the decayed flesh if the maggots didn’t do enough.

Four men had broken bones, one, his arm, another, his finger, and two, their leg. That was simple enough, if not time consuming getting all the bone fragments to set properly. While you would have much preferred a cast to a splint, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

That wasn’t even to mention the handful of other men with various ailments that filled the tent. Apparently there was someone quarantined elsewhere, suffering from dysentery. According to the veterinarius, the treatment for that particular disease was rest, fasting, and dehydration, which you were in the middle of giving him strict instructions to keep the man as hydrated as possible, it didn’t matter how quickly he discharged it, he needed to be drinking as much water as he could. You didn’t hold out much hope he’d make it, though you’d be damned before you gave up on someone who needed you.

It wasn’t until Marianus clamped his hand on the back of your neck and began to steer you towards the tent’s exit did you realize how exhausted you were. Your eyes burned and your head throbbed. If you were any less of a man, you would have taken one of your ibuprofen to ease the dull ache in your temples. Ultimately, you decided against it. If there came a time when they were necessary and you had run out because of your own weakness, you would never forgive yourself.

“You did well, medicus. Better than I expected, you are very skilled at what you do,” Marianus said as he led you deeper into camp. By now, it was dark, well into the night too judging from the full moon directly overhead.

How long had you been working?

“Thank you. I am usually better than that. I fear my nerves of being in such an unfamiliar country are getting to me.” With the heel of your palm, you scrubbed at your face.

Marianus frowned down at you. “Keep your foreignness to yourself, medicus and you will go far. Though, that will be hard to do with hair like yours.” He looked you up and down, hesitant curiosity creeping into his features. “That strange color… it is not natural, is it?”

A laugh bubbled from your throat. “No, I dyed it. Green is a color I am rather fond of.”

“I am fond of red, but you do not see me painting my hair that color,” He grumbled under his breath, and it reminded you so much of the comments some of your superiors made, that you giggled.

Before you could respond, he gestured to a tent with an outstretched arm. A lantern was on inside, casting the shadow of the single occupant, who was busy sitting cross-legged and writing what seemed to be a letter. While you had reservations of interrupting, Marianus did not.

“Out here, now, boy!” The shadow visibly jumped before pulling back the flap to reveal Aelius. He looked as tired as you did, and truthfully, he stank to high heaven. You struggled not to wrinkle your nose so as not to offend him. Aelius seemed like a nice man.

“Sir?” Was all he managed before Marianus continued to bark his next set of orders.

“Since the two of you were acquainted earlier, and the fact that you were supposed to be monitored, you’ll be bunking together. In the morning, we set a course for Rome.”

You blinked. Did that include you? While you wouldn’t mind getting out of the village and seeing more of what this dream had to offer, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of uncertainty. There was no telling how long this dream would go on, nor how vast it was. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you strolled ‘out of bounds,’ so to speak. Would you be trapped in an infinite void until you awoke? The thought was enough to send a chill down your spine.

“And I will remain here,” You finally said.

Marianus barked out a laugh. “No. You will join us. I still have a use for you.”

As much as you didn’t want to abandon your current patients, you would rather not push your luck any further than you already had. Crossing your arms, you met Marianus’ furrowed brows with your own. “And that use would be?”

To your right, Aelius made a little noise. Your gaze flickered over to him, catching his motion for you to cease, before you ignored it and fixated back on Marianus. He was looking at you like you’d lost your mind. At least enough to question him. A bit of discomfort made your skin itch, you always hated earning the negative attention of a superior.

For a moment, you feared that Marianus would yell at you until the sun rose. He puffed up, shoulders squaring and his lower jaw jutting out before he deflated with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his angular nose. “You are too soft for the army, medicus, and you are too foreign to hope to set up your own clinic, especially without citizenship. There is very little hope for you in the Empire.”

You looked away, feeling cold even as a summer’s breeze blew against your skin. An argument began to boil in the back of your throat, an insistence that this was a dream, so none of that mattered, but you managed to swallow that poison before it could spew out of you.

Marianus paused, waiting for you to respond. When all he received was a defeated look, he continued, “There is, however, hope for both me and you. The emperors require a new physician and I believe they would be taken by your skill and your…” He looked at your hair again. “Novelty. In return for discovering you, if they choose to take you on, me and my men will be rewarded.”

“I see,” You muttered. Perhaps this was the route your dream wanted you to take. At the end of it all, there was sure to be a lesson or even a vision of sorts that could help you in reality. All you had to do to get it was allow the plot to pull you forward. “And Rome is not far?”

Marianus’ features softened, bordering on fondness, guilt, and pity. “Barely a day’s march, medicus.”

“I will go, then. To Rome with me, I suppose.” Though you smiled, when you turned to Aelius, he stared at you as if you’d been sentenced to death.

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Tag list: @snazzynacho

#geta x reader #caracalla x reader #gladiator x reader #geta x you #caracalla x you #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #HOLY FUCK FORMATTING THIS WAS HELL #if this doesnt post in the tags im going postal #do not blame the sea

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sashaaababy · 7 days ago

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Candy - Che Ecru

Authors Note: This is a Toji fanfic;) Ive been saying i was working on a fanfic so here it is? i hope its up to standards, and for all you horn balls ill highlight the first word of where the smut starts

Summary: Reader is a young and broke dropout who was offered a job as a bartender at a strip club since she was friends with the owner. toji is a divorced single alcoholic

Wc: 2,621

Cws: Oral, rough s*x, An*l, creamp!es, p in v, nsfw, smut, dacryphilia, doggy, age gap, spit, c*m play, tummy bulge, size kink, toji is BIG, daddy kink, headlock, biting, choking, slight p!ss, reader has daddy issues, Not proof read!!

Being a drop out college student meant being on bad terms with your family, not contacting them for months, and working as a bartender at a strip club. Which also meant dealing with creepy old men wanting to fuck you on the daily, but it was the only way for you to pay for your cheap lower class apartment. You had daddy issues mommy issues shit, all kinds of issues, you hated your life and would kill to change it. but you cant, so you get dressed putting on your work uniform (a skirt and white collard shirt) and look in the mirror straightening yourself up and brushing your hair, throwing on whatever makeup fixed your eye bags. You grab your keys and purse and walk out the front door, and down the stairs of your apartment, "y/nnnn i feel like i never see you, you work late yeah?" the creepy old man at the front desk always tried to make small talk with you and you always tried your best to ignore him and walk faster out the broken revolving doors that lead into the apartment complex. Once your out you scramble for your keys in your purse and unlock your car door.

The drive feels short but you wish it felt long, you dreaded work but once again the bills aren't going to pay there self. You get out of your car and walk to the more expensive revolving doors that lead into the strip club, unlike the ones to the apartment complex these one actually work. "y/n! omg i feel like i havent seen you in forever" one of the girls run up to you and give you a hug squeezing you so tight you feel like you actually cant breath "didnt you see me yesterday?"you let out a soft giggle patting her back slightly as she lets go of the tight hug she had on you "hmmph yesterday was a long time" she pouts "i have to get working ill see you later yeah"

you set your stuff in the employee locker room and walk out to the bar table serving people there drinks and receiving tips from people who are probably to drunk to even drive home but is it bad you couldn't care less? "can i get the cotton Candy margarita" you hear a deep raspy voice from behind you as you were putting away a few bottles you turn around and see the man who was talking to you, he looked like shit, i mean no he was attractive but he looked like he had just been through the worst moments of his life "you gonna get me my drink, sweets? or no" you scramble for your words "o-oh yeah sorry about that" you turn back around embarrassed for staring make him his drink and hand it to him and like every start of some cheesy romance show, your fingers brush and you try to think nothing of it until he try to make small talk with you "you look pretty young to be working here ma, how old are you?" you stare again, not because he looks like shit but because this guy is huge like muscles that could crush you on accident without even trying, "your staring" you snap out of your gaze "oh- uhm I'm sorry, I'm 22 recently- my friends owns the place so he gave me a job here since i was kind of looking for a job" you stop yourself before you go on a ramble about how your a drop out low class apartment living failure "ahhh i see" he takes a sip of his drink looking around the bar and back at you, this time up and down like he's checking you out, you look away and clean a cup to act like your distracted or busy. "do you dance?" your eyes snap back to him giving him your full attention "dance?", "yeah like on the poles and shit" of course he meant that, gosh you feel so stupid "oh- uhm no I've never tried it before, I'm to shy for that kind of stuff." your eyes go back down to the cup you were cleaning "thats a shame" thats a shame? what does he mean thats a shame? does he wanna see you half naked on a pole? no you don't even know the guy. thoughts rush through your mind completely distracted to the fact that the guy has already left and also, left a $100 bill on the counter, your a bit disapointed you didnt get to say bye but whatever.

You walk back to to the locker room to grab your stuff, you walk outside in the cold fresh air and get inside your car to drive home, but this drive felt long, unlike it was driving to work, driving home you couldn't stop thinking about the interaction with that man, yes yes you have spoken with many people at work serving them drinking, shit you even have regulars who come in everyday and speak to you, but this guy was oddly mysterious and come on the way he just left?the $100 tip? way weird. But before you can stop thinking about it, your already home stepping out of the car and into those broken revolving doors that you need to push to get past, luckily that weird creepy guy isn't on his shift and its a lady who's about to fall asleep, i mean it is roughly 2am so its completely valid, you take the elavator all the way up to your floor and walk down the eerily quiet hallway, you dig for your keys in your purse and unlock the door and sigh as you step into your sad embarassingly small apartment, you set your stuff on the counter and sit on your bed to count your tips, you go through them when you come across the $100 bill and see something on the back of it, his phone number, you look confused not knowing if this was an accident or he meant to do it. you ignore it and put the cash away in your nightstand and stand up to take a shower and get ready for bed you turn on the shower and strip off your work clothes waiting until the shower is warm enough to step in.

You step out of the steamy hot bathroom and dry your body off scrambling through your drawer to find some pj's, once you do you climb into bed and stare at your ceiling not able to get that man and the phone number off of your mind, you grab the $100 bill from your nightstand drawer and text the number, only to see if he meant to put it or if it was an accident of course, "hey, this is the girl from the strip club, the bartender who served you your drink, did you mean to put your number on the bill or?" send. you set your phone down not expecting him to respond to the text immediately since it is 2am at night, *ding* your phone goes off just as your about to close your eyes, you reach for your phone and see the number pop up as a message notification "Hey sweets, you can start by saying thank you for the tip" you read the message slightly annoyed "thank you." you type back and hit send before falling asleep not being able to stay up any longer.

You wake up to your alarm and check your phone to see no reply back from him, you notice you don't even know his name but you move on with your day as that was just a random thought, when the time arrives to get ready for work you do your usual routine and grab your keys having that creepy guys at the front desk try to make small talk while you quickly walk out, the get to work and start taking peoples orders, and it is BUSY your exhausted as the night drags on, but then that same man comes by "hey sweets" you look up at him "you didn't answer my text" you say in a softer voice than usual, you hate to admit you were a bit sad he didn't text you back, even though you didn't even know him or his name, your life was insanely boring and he made it slightly interesting "what was i supposed to say to a thank you?" he pouts and you almost believe he was actually sad you didn't start a real conversations, you change the subject "i don't even know your name" you say softly looking at the empty glass in your hand pretending to be occupied so you don't have to look him in the eye "Toji". "Toji" you repeat feeling the way it rolls of your tongue "it sounds nice coming from you sweets" he says resting his chin in the palm of his hand, and you cant help but feel your face heat up a bit "im y/n, your weirdly comfortable to someone you don't even know" you say with a smile finally making eye contact with him, "let me take you out" your face visibly heat up at the sudden ask, take you out? he doesn't even know you but how could you not, i mean look at him. "okay" you say acting unbothered trying to hide the fact your screaming inside "perfect, ill pick you up after your shift" he says it so calmly like none of this is new to him.

Next thing you know you're getting into a mans car you barely know, "you buckled up ma?" you nod nervous for what your getting yourself into "where are we even going, its super late i doubt anywhere is open." he shakes his head "don't worry that pretty little head of yours alright?" and you listen obediently sitting patiently in the passenger seat of his car. he pulls up to an expensive looking building and thats when you realize its a penthouse, your at his house, on the first time going out with him? i mean your already here and you cant change your mind now. He gets out and runs to the other side of the car to open the door for you before holding his hand out to help you out of the car, you look up at the building as you step out, you have butterflies swimming in your stomach, you hands are sweaty your scared if he can feel it, "cmon ma no need to be nervous" he kneels in front of you putting his face in your hand looking up at you "i have sum good food, games, i don't expect anything from you i just want you to have a good time ma" oh this man is down bad which is surprising for how scary and big he looks, but you give in feeling more comfortable and not as he gets up and leads you inside and into the elevator you both walk into his dimly lit penthouse and your shocked, food on the island table, a pool table, being a broke drop out you never thought you could ever step foot in a place like this or breath near a place like this, you look around fascinated and excited at the food "did you make this?" Toji wont lie to you he didn't make it, his house keeper did "hah, no i have a house keeper she's a great cook" you look around at all the sweets and eat a cupcake happily, he comes up behind you hugging your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder "is this okay ma?" you nod slowly shocked but comfortable having the man twice your size hold you like this, in some way you felt safe even though being here with a man you haven't even known for a week is probably insanely dangerous.

And it was, because next thing you know your getting your brains fucked out on the living room couch, he's putting you in doggy style forcing your back in a arch you didnt even know you could do, pounding his cock into your warm cunt, bullying your cervix with his fat tip kissing it and your g spot making you feel that deep stretch with his girth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as wet *plap plap* noises fill the room while you gush all over his cock and balls, "f-fuck baby your pussy's so h-hah tight" he's digging his nails into your hips you swear it will leave marks in the morning, he leans forward putting his weight and chest on your back as his arm reaches around putting you in a headlock that makes your brain feel fuzzy and your vision go blurry, all you can feel is his cock drilling your pussy "h-hnngh T-toji s-stop -i need to -pee" he thrusts even faster you swear he's just being mean "h-hah i don't care" you whine and try to squirm away from his cock but the headlock he has on you keeps you in place "T-toji seriouslyyy" he uses his other hand that was on your hip to reach under you and push on your bladder "i s-said i don't care" you whine and piss on his cock and his thrusts only get faster "f-fuck your such a dirty fucking slut on my c-cock" he bites down on your neck trying to muffle his whimpers and grunts, he moves his hand towards your lower belly feeling the bulge in your tummy "f-fuck you f-feel that baby? thats d-daddys cock drillin your belly" you start crying from the overstimulation and the orgasms hes taken out of your body "f-fuck baby your so small compared to me, i don't even know how this small little hole is taking me s-so well- oh fuck!" you feel warm thick spurts of cum fill your hole shooting directly at your cervix as he pumps it deep into you with long slow thrusts making sure you get your fill, "fuckkk baby just like that- milk daddy's cock cmon sweets don't s-stop" he flips you over onto your back as he slips out of your gaping pussy so he can watch the mix of juices run out of your hole and onto the bed sheets "fuck baby your beautiful" he climbs closer to you hooking his arms under your legs spreading them wider as he settles his face between your thighs licking his dry lips before leaning in and looking up at you with his gorgeous eyes. Sucking on your clit flicking it with his tongue before giving your hole attention, sticking his two thumbs inside and spreading it wide so he can look inside, "fuck i filled you up good huh baby?" he sticks his tongue in fucking it in and out tasting the mix of you both combined spitting on your pussy and playing with it "fuck baby, tastes js like Candy" he uses 2 fingers sticking them inside while he sucks on your clit while your a crying whiney mess trying to push his head away but it just makes him flick his tongue faster on your clit, "T-toji s-stop it i cant-" tears stream down your face from the overstimulation "your so pretty when you cry baby, you have no idea" and once you cum one last time for him he kisses your clit before crawling back up to you and hugging your waist pulling you up close to him and kissing all over your neck before having you fall asleep on top of his massive body that you barely cover half of.

#fypツ #fyp #headcanon #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #18+ mdni #fictional other #jjk smut #for you page #fanfic #smutfic #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #tumblr fyp #Spotify

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margowritesthings · 8 months ago

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The French Are Glad To Die For Love

A Bridgerton x Moulin Rouge crossover

pairing: Colin Bridgerton x ? word count: 2.1k words warnings: 18+ minors DNI, un-beta'd, mentions of sex, spitting, lots of debauchery authors note: surpriiise! i have been sitting on this since part 1, so to celebrate part 2 tomorrow here's my new mini-series! i have never written for Colin before, so i'm nervous, but i loved writing this.

i also need your help! i cannot decide if this mini series should be Colin x reader or a Polin fic, where Penelope is Satine. I have created a poll here for you to vote, so please let me know!

and as always, enjoy! it's been a hot minute since I last published, so thank you if you're still here.

Bridgerton Masterlist

The stars sparkle especially brightly tonight, the crimson lanterns guiding Parisians and tourists alike through the winding streets, and Colin Bridgerton stands in awe of it all.

He’d read stories, heard tales of this place during long nights at Whites, but nothing could have quite prepared him for what lay ahead of him, a long string of lights hanging in the sky leading the way to his destination.

The Moulin Rouge.

A house of debauchery and sin, of freedom and truth, filled to the brim with bohemians and artists and beautiful women unlike anything or anyone he’s ever seen before. Even now, 30 feet away from the illuminated windmill, he can hear the music and the joy spilling out from the building. His senses are filled with the perfume of hundreds of women passing him by the minute, all with real, toothy grins he rarely has the pleasure of seeing back home. It is far too impolite to be so happy in London society.

Colin steps forwards, his boots crunching against the gravel and his coattails flying in the breeze. His shoulders brush more wonderfully merry, positively inebriated partygoers on his way in, catching odd fragments of conversations that would have scandalised him and his whole family were he elsewhere.

But he wasn’t elsewhere. He was here, in the city of love, away from anybody who had ever known the name Bridgerton. His clean slate clutched close to his chest, waiting to find out what will be written on it next, Colin feels the fresh air on his face for the last time before his life is changed forever.

The heat hits him first, a symptom he knew all too well of too many people packed into a small space. But unlike every ball he’s been to, this doesn’t feel claustrophobic or fusty. It feels alive.

There is a feast for the eye wherever one looks. Burlesque dancers showing off stockings and garters by kicking their legs up, toes pointing towards the aerial hoops holding acrobats hanging from the ceiling. Gentlemen, if you can call them that in this state, wearing top hats, arm in arm with their glasses raised high, spilling their contents all over the wooden floor.

The music blasts loud from each instrument the band masterfully pluck or blow or bang, but laughter and conversation buzzes amongst the melodies. It is a near overwhelming amount of joy, one Colin certainly could use a drink to wash it down with.

If he could just find the bar…

Bodies fill his view, so entangled in each other it is difficult to tell where one starts and another ends. Frilly skirts flow over the knees of suits as ladies dangle from the necks of patrons, sharing cigars and passing around bottles of an unknown green liquid. Rosy cheeks as far as the eye can see, wether from too much of that green stuff or the exertion of all that dancing, Colin can’t be sure. Between them all, in tiny empty spaces, he can just about make out rows of bottles and glasses.

Weaving through the crowd is like treading through water, but their energy and joy seems to rub off on him. There isn’t a dance card in sight, women choosing their partners themselves whenever they like with a freedom Colin isn’t sure he’s ever seen before. Is this truly what people are designed to be when they are free?

Eventually, his hands find the sticky wood of the bar, quickly lifting themselves back off it on instinct at the sensation. When Colin looks to his left, he sees a woman pouring a shot of liquor between her breasts, a man knelt below her waiting to lick it back up, and he quickly realises why the bar feels so tacky- every surface here seems to be host to someone’s revelry.

“Welcome to the Moulin Rouge, monsieur. Can I get you a drink?”

Colin’s attention is quickly pulled by the welcome, his gaze snapping to a tall French woman dripping with red jewels that compliment her rich brown skin perfectly. She is captivating to be sure, deep hazel eyes commanding Colin’s attention, competing with the most incredible curls of hair he has ever seen. Ladies of the ton are welcome no matter their race back home, but Colin has never seen a lady allowed to wear her hair so beautifully natural before. The Afro framing her face has more tiny rubies that sparkle under the cabaret lights, and Colin is speechless.

“I…uh, pardon me, Miss, I-“ he sighs, giving up entirely at his failed attempt at decorum, “Is it so obvious I have never been here before?”

She laughs, gems twinkling as her head shakes with mirth.

“Not at all, but most gentlemen who have been here before know to wear a top hat. And there’s that look in your eye…”

As she speaks, she pours out one finger of the green liquor Colin has spotted a few times already, sliding it along the wood towards him.

“Wonder. Drink this. It will help with the nerves.”

Colin looks down, finding himself fascinated with a drink that seems to glow of its own volition. He has smoked blends and meditated with world weary travellers from across the globe, drank tea containing unknown substances that left him staring at blades of grass as if they held the worlds secrets, and yet this… whatever it is, seems to terrify him.

The barmaid laughs again, that melodic sound with the real joy Colin very much enjoys.

“It’s only absinthe, monsieur. Loosens the inhibitions, relaxes the body…” she explains, pouring a second out for herself and lifting it to him as if to prove her credibility.

“Santé.” He toasts to health.

“Amour.” She toasts to something far greater.

It leaves no room for argument, and all Colin can do is lift his own glass and tap it against hers.

It burns his tongue, leaving a fiery trail down his throat as he swallows and tries not to cough and splutter. A bitter yet herby anise flavour fights with his taste buds and seems to seep straight into his mind, teasing at those tense knots that held him back from fully immersing himself here.

When his eyes eventually reopen, he finds the barmaid beaming at him, unphased by her own potion. Rather used to it, if she shares a glass with every newcomer, he should think.

“Be careful, though, monsieur. Many a man has spent a night with the stuff and swears he fell in love with a fairy dressed all in green. Ruined him for any other woman for the rest of his life…” She speaks words that belong in fairytale, with a tone containing such severity Colin is inclined to take every single one of them as gospel.

“I dare say I should be careful, then. I do not think this green fairy would want to join the rest of my travels when she can instead entice all of Paris’ men to sin…”

The residue of the liquor smells just as strong as the full measure, which Colin tries to blink out of his senses when he puts the glass back on the bar.

Almost as if society itself had cleared its throat at him, Colin remembers himself, remembers just where he is. Undoubtedly the most unique establishment he had ever set foot in, but an establishment all the same.

“I beg your pardon, miss, I seem to forget myself. How much do I owe you for the drink?”

She considers him.

“Hm, the absinthe I think… for you, a kiss.”

Colin, already pulling coins from his breast pocket, pauses, a little grin tugging at the corner of his lip. The francs clink together when they fall back to the bottom of his pocket, a long forgotten currency of the past. It’s a perfect reminder of just how different things are here, how easily walls crumble between strangers and connection is offered so freely. He has never kissed a woman he has not paid for back home, so afraid of getting too close to another in case they ruin each other. Here, a beautiful woman leans over the bar, offering her flushed cheek for him to softly press his lips against.

And he does.

And it is lovely.

“If any more handsome men capture the eye of Mademoiselle Belle, I will surely be out of business!” A loud, hearty voice pulls Colin from one blissful moment back into the party.

He regards a rather large man, clad in a red tailcoat and stunning golden waistcoat. His top hat, near the same to all the other gentlemen in the room but somehow grander, tops wild orange curls that match a fantastic handlebar moustache. A true ring leader to this wonderful circus of debauchery Colin has found himself in.

“Harold Zidler, at your service. Welcome to the Moulin Rouge.”

“Colin Bridgerton.” He replies, offering a hand that Harold seems bemused at. Unsurprising, considering what passes for currency around here. Nonetheless, Harold shakes the offered hand.

”I must say, your establishment is rather…” he hesitates, unable to find a word in any language he has picked up along his travels that quite captures the Moulin Rouge. Perhaps he could blame the absinthe, or the intoxicating hedonism he feels rooting its way through his mind, hidden in the brass notes from the band and thrown with each cancan kick of one of the dancers that surrounds him.

Luckily, Harold seems well used to this phenomenon.

“Isn’t it? And you have seen nothing yet! I assume you are not from around here?”

”It is rather obvious, I have been told.” Colin adds a glance to Miss Belle, who’s skirt frills bounce in the lights while she shakes up a cocktail. He adds, “London.”

”Well, Monsieur Bridgerton, I promise you that what we have here in the Moulin Rouge is unlike anything you have back home in London.”

Colin’s eye is caught again across the room, as a beautiful woman with blonde tumbling waves spits a drink into a man’s mouth.

“I am inclined to agree with you there.”

It truly is unlike anything back home. Colin has travelled across Europe and back again, seen incredible sights and met wonderful people. He has felt that ease that distance from London society and its unwritten laws and social rules that bind him back home can bring. He’s seen beauty and felt freedom and thought he might have found truth somewhere along the way, but it pales to whatever is contained within these four walls.

In truth, it couldn’t be farther from London society.

”Just wait until you see my Diamond, Monsieur.”

… Perhaps not.

Intrigue hits Colin as Harold pulls out a pocket watch on a brilliant gold chain.

“Your diamond?”

”My Sparkling Diamond. The main attraction of the Moulin Rouge, my most sought after little chickee.” He speaks proudly, with a mist in his eye Colin normally finds on ambitious Mamas at grand balls, secretly trying to auction their daughters off to the highest rank.

“I do not believe she is booked yet for tonight…” Harold adds, that mist darkening, disappearing, leaving a shiver stuck between Colin’s shoulder blades.

Not because this Diamond is a courtesan. Colin is hardly a stranger to the profession, and he bears no judgement. In truth, he admires the women he has been known to spend the night with, finding the courage of living outside society so freely quite brave indeed. No, that shiver came from Harold entirely, Colin just cannot figure out why.

Harold excuses himself, though makes sure Colin knows to stay for the show, and Colin orders a whiskey on the rocks, insisting on paying in cash this time. Though singular in person, he has never felt less alone in his life. Looking around, there isn’t an empty chair in the house. If there were, there wouldn’t be room to put it down for all the dancers and patrons enjoying every ounce of the world they can. Music played straight from the soul ringing in his ears, Colin could make out every instrument. The lights dazzled in his eyes and the spot caught him every so often, lighting his drink up in his hand like golden ambrosia.

And then, darkness. Silence.

A single spot, though the mirrors scattered around catch the light and illuminate the faces of the people around him. Everybody is looking upwards, as if they all know she is coming.

Even if he did know, Colin could never have prepared himself for what he saw when he looked up.

Who he saw.

The Sparkling Diamond, shimmering high on a swing hanging from the ceiling.

The most beautiful, breathtaking, person he has ever seen. In any city, on any continent in the world.

Crimson lips part as each and every person hangs on the breath she takes.

”The French are glad to die for love…”

don't forget to vote in the poll for your fmc!

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader #colin x penelope #polin fic #bridgerton fanfic #colin bridgerton fic #colin bridgerton x you #moulin rouge #moulin rouge x bridgerton

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gallavichthings · 3 months ago

Text

Gallavich Masquerade 2024

Let's have a New Year's Masquerade Ball!

This time it'll be a mixed one, for fic writers and fanartists! The fanworks will be revealed on December 31st and people will have up to January 31st to cast their votes.

As you now know, in a Masquerade, creators (fic authors and fanartists) will produce their works anonymously. These fanworks will all be revealed at the same time on December 31st - our New Year's Masquerade Ball! - and fans (previously called readers and admirers) will have a month to attempt to guess who's behind each mask, that is, who made what. Creators are encouraged to try to fool everyone!

Details after the read more, but don't forget to please spread the word. This will be fun!

Requirements

All fics must have between 2,000 and 5,000 words. For art, there are no requirements. (Needless to say, AI "works" are not allowed.)

No theme is required or forbidden, but, as this is an event in which the goal is to have as many people checking out our work as possible, fanworks in niche categories are not advised. Regardless of what you do, please tag accordingly.

I don't know what to write/draw about!

You can get inspiration from anything you want. It can be canon-compliant, canon-divergent, after the show ended, AU...

But, if you still need some ideas, you can find some here, here or here (not to mention @callivich always has tons of prompts lists).

Sign-ups

Signing-up is required and can be done here. For this event, sign-ups can be done up to the time of posting. Unlike other events, this is one where you will need to sign-up only at the end, after the fanwork is done. You'll be required to add your AO3 username and the title of your fanwork.

What if I don't have an AO3 account?

Then I'm very sorry, but in this case, you won't be able to participate (as a creator). For this event, having an AO3 account is mandatory so that you can post in the collection. That being said, a lot of people have AO3 invites, so ask right now and someone may be able to send you one.

Posting

Posting will be done on AO3 and AO3 only! This is because the Masquerade Collection will be unrevealed and anonymous. All posting must be done until December 29th. On December 31st, all fics will be revealed and available for the readers. (The two days different is to ensure that everyone has posted before I reveal them.) The fanworks will remain anonymous until January 31st, when the game ends. (Please take note that this may be extended if there are a large number of fics). On February 1st, the authors' identities will be disclosed (and your fic will appear under your account just like any other fic).

As an creator, all you have to do is, when posting on AO3, choose to do it under the Gallavich Masquerade 2024 Collection (as in the picture below). I'll take care of the rest. It's important to do so when posting and not after, or it won't work. You can go to My Works > Works in Collections to confirm that it worked.

Voting

Voting will be done via a new form, which will be disclosed only after the fanworks are posted. All titles will be displayed and fans will chose from a menu who they think the creator is. This time, voting is mandatory in all three guesses. If you don't know who to vote for or if you haven't had a chance to read a fic, for example, just take a guess. Also, you might as well guess three different creators to increase your chances, even if you think you're sure who it is.

Points

There are two ways of winning this game, as a creator and as a fan.

Creators are awarded 1 point for each person who correctly guesses their fic/fanart on the first try, 2 for correct second guesses, 3 for correct third guesses and 7 points for each person who wrongly guesses it (that is, matches three different creators to your fanwork). That's right, you get more points if you're actually able to deceive everyone.

Fans are awarded 5 points for each fanwork they guess correctly on the first guess, 3 for each correct second guess and 1 for each correct third guess (obviously the points are only awarded once, so there's no need to guess the same work more than once). No points are being deducted this time.

Creators can also be fans, so they have twice the chance of winning. There will be separate winners for artists and writers.

Prizes

Winners will get boasting rights! XD Plus, of course, a special post for them.

If anyone would like to make fanworks for the winners (like art for the winning writers, fics for the winning artists, edits, whatever), please let me know, that would be super nice!

#GM2024 #Gallavich #Ian x Mickey #Shameless #Shameless US #Gallavich events #mod post

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obeymeshallwedateaddict · 3 months ago

Note

Hey.

First.

I love all your writing, they r fun to read and they make my day brighter ✨✨

Really Appreciate it.

Here is the request:

I wanted to request Solomon

We all know that his an old man ( whom we love so much ) and his based off the character from the Bible king Solomon.

If Solomon having 700 wives were true what would it be like

If MC and Solomon end up arguing over something stupid, MC just goes," Then am one of your collections to ? That's all I am to you! Right" something like that 😭

That line was horrible but something along those lines

It can be angst and fluffy.

Thanks a bunch! Wishing you an amazing day ahead!

Heyyy I absolutely love your request cuz duh. They make Solomon and the others seems like there was nothing before MC which is unlikely. Like I mean I'm pretty sure all of them had a few relationships before MC at some point or another. Anyway. Enjoy!

Author's note: I'll be posting short stories for the next few days since I'm working on a bigger story this time which will take a while. Hope it's not a problem.

Contains: Angst/Fluff

GN!MC x Solomon

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

---

MC and Solomon had agreed to spend the evening together—just a quiet, uninterrupted night. But Solomon ended up running late, engrossed in some old spell or magical artifact he was researching, losing track of time. By the time he shows up, MC’s already feeling hurt and dismissed, thinking he prioritizes ancient things over their relationship.

MC: arms crossed, eyes narrowed as Solomon finally enters the room “Oh, look who finally decided to show up.”

Solomon: sighs, looking tired but trying to be calm “MC, I told you, I lost track of time. It happens. You know how important my research is.”

MC: “And I thought we were important too, Solomon. I’m not asking for much, just…a single night where I don’t feel like I have to compete with some dusty book or enchanted artifact.”

Solomon: growing defensive, a slight edge to his tone “It’s not a competition, MC. You’re acting like I’m choosing my work over you on purpose.”

MC: voice raising slightly, hurt “Well, that’s how it feels! You make these promises, but when it comes down to it, I’m always the one waiting. Why is it so hard for you to just…be here?”

Solomon: frowning “I’m here now, aren’t I? I don’t see why this has to be such a big deal.”

MC: glares, feeling even more hurt by his dismissive tone “A big deal? Maybe it wouldn’t be if this didn’t keep happening. You say you’re here, but half the time, I feel like I’m just a…just a side note in your never-ending list of priorities.”

Solomon: sighs, crossing his arms defensively “MC, I care about you, but I also have responsibilities—things that existed long before we ever met.”

MC: hurt, finally snapping “Oh, here we go—‘long before we met.’ That’s just it, isn’t it? This isn’t even about tonight; it’s about me realizing that I’ll never be more than one part of your centuries-long collection!”

Solomon: taken aback, not expecting that turn “What? Collection? MC, where is this even coming from?”

MC: “You probably don’t even see it, do you? How easy it is for you to just…move on, like I’m just another person you’re adding to the archive of your life. You’ve had 700 wives, haven’t you? Well, I guess I’m just another one for the record books, huh?”

Solomon: eyes widening in hurt, tone softening as he steps closer “MC, that’s not even fair. Those stories…they’re just stories, memories from lifetimes ago. I don’t know what I’ve done to make you feel like you’re ‘just another one,’ but believe me, you’re not.”

MC: arms crossed, looking away, voice trembling “It just…feels like I’ll never really matter to you. Not when you’ve had hundreds of people pass through your life like it’s nothing.”

Solomon: reaches out, resting a hand on MC’s shoulder, his tone soft and sincere “MC, I know my past seems…well, complicated, but I need you to believe that this is different. You’re not just part of my history. You’re the person I want in my present, and my future.”

MC: sighing, though still a little guarded “Then…show me, Solomon. Prove that I’m more than just a ‘number’ to you.”

Solomon: nodding with a small smile, determined “Every day, if that’s what it takes. I promise.”

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jamilelucato · 11 months ago

Text

Unlikely - Emmett Cullen

Summary: Edward Cullen discovers a surprising secret when he inadvertently tunes into the thoughts of a fellow student, [y/n] [y/l/n], revealing her crush on none other than his brother, Emmett. As their unexpected connection unfolds, both face the complexities of love and the challenges of their supernatural existence.

Pairing: [y/n] [y/l/n] x Emmett Cullen

Universe: Twilight

Author's Note: So, I have had this in store for a while, waiting for the right time to post it. I feel like Emmett deserves I do it. Btw, I can't promise a part 2 or something like that. For an unknown reason, it's been hard for me to write characters kissing and stuff. But get them flirting below.

Info: Emmett here is supposedly enroled in the same year as Edward and Bella, because I wanted to keep him in school whereas I wanted Rosalie gone. Love Rosalie, though. I'm telling you this because it's not canon, so... there you go.

### Edward was the first to notice, of course.

He wasn't paying much attention until this girl's thoughts popped louder than the rest of the cafeteria.

Edward already had so much trouble — keeping tabs on Bella Swan — that his most minor concern was the other students at Forks High School.

But her thoughts were loud and clear. I can't believe it! I… I am crushing on him! Gods, embarrassing…

Edward Cullen frowned. He was always around teenagers, and more often than not, they'd find themselves in love. Why was this random girl's mental voice so loud and clear, then?

He's never paid attention to me before. He just borrowed me a pen. Get a grip on yourself, [y/n]! The girl's mind shouted, reprehending herself.

"What is it, Edward?" Bella asked, calling back his attention to her. Edward was curious about the other students, but no one in the world came before Bella Swan to him.

"Someone's called my attention," Edward answered, letting Bella grasp his hand.

"Good or bad?" she asked.

"A student," Edward answered, unsure yet if listening to the random girl's thoughts so clearly was a bad sign. "She's found herself crushing on someone."

Bella looked puzzled. "Oh, well. It happens to all of us," she jested but still looked worried. "Any idea why her voice is louder?"

Even after all those many months apart, Bella quickly understood Edward's gift. But the loud voice had disappeared.

"It was [y/n] [y/l/n]. But I don't know who she's crushing on that can be so bad…" Edward let his sentence trail off, looking around the cafeteria for the human.

Emmett's face lit up, and he chimed in. "[y/n]? I talked to her today in Biology class. She's my lab partner."

Bella moved her neck to face Emmett better. "I did not know that."

Emmett shrugged. "I mean, it's not like we interact. She's been my partner for a while in that class, but you know…" he didn't finish his sentence, embarrassed to tell Bella what he really thought. But Edward read it all in Emmett's mind: but I don't usually bother with humans.

Edward pressed his lips together, reacting to his brother's thought. He also didn't want to tell Bella that he agreed.

"But what was it about [y/n], anyway? Is she in danger?" Emmett asked, not showing his concern. To Bella, it all seemed like curiosity. But to Edward, well, he saw Emmett's thoughts trailing off.

"No, not at all," Edward nodded. "I don't think I've tuned to her thoughts before, that's all. It was just so loud a minute ago."

"Ah," Emmett let out. What was she saying? I know you won't tell me, but you sure as hell told Bella.

"What I said is what I heard," Edward affirmed, answering Emmett's mind.

"So she has a crush, good for her!" Emmett said, raising his tone just a bit but enough for Bella to notice.

Before Edward could intrude on his brother's reaction, Emmett left.

***

Emmett sat at his seat, tensed. Being a vampire and all, he had no need for breathing, definitely no need for oxygen. But it was a habit to do so, to get a grasp of scent and also to act more "human". However, that day, he felt like he was hyperventilating.

So Edward had heard [y/n] had a crush on someone. No big deal. Was she one of the funniest girls he ever met? Yes. Did she have such a crooked smile that made her more beautiful? Yes. Did she seem to always understand him, even when he barely spoke to her? Yes. But that meant nothing and would stay meaning nothing, for she was a human, and he was a vampire.

Emmett concluded it would have been better if Edward had not mentioned any of [y/n]'s thoughts. In fact, since Edward was always so focused on Bella, Emmett thought [y/n] would stay out of his radar. Goddammit.

"Hey, Emm," [y/n] said, catching Emmett by surprise as she sat beside him.

[y/n] was in many other classes Emmett was enrolled in, but Biology was the only course they actively sat together. Well, one time in English class, Emmett was left out of group partners, and [y/n] politely and unexpectedly asked him to join her group. But that had been one time.

He wouldn't admit it to his siblings, but [y/n] had caught him off guard. Emmett had been so distracted thinking about her that her scent passed unnoticed when she was finally there.

"Hi, [y/n]!" he replied, quickly cleaning his throat after noticing his "hi" had sounded a bit too high-pitched. He wished he had a nickname for [y/n] as she had, with time, shortened his name after the forced proximity. He had tried out some possibilities in his mind, but he was a man of his time, and just calling her by her first name and not simply "miss" was too much for his little mind.

"It's snowing today," she prompted, shifting her eyes from his face to the window nearby.

"I noticed," Emmett nodded.

"Do you plan to snow-fight your siblings?" she asked shyly after becoming embarrassed by his gruff reply.

Emmett's face lit up just a bit, and he hoped it was invisible for [y/n]'s human eyes. She's trying to make small talk, he concluded, smiling internally.

"You've noticed I do that, huh," he playfully leaned his head.

[y/n] smiled. "Last year, I saw you trying to hit Alice. She was quick though," she said, moving her shoulders as if to shrug, but not quite. "I just hope you don't plan to have your fight in the cafeteria again."

Emmett's eyebrows were eager to shoot up, but he controlled them just in time. So [y/n] had noticed him and his siblings since the year before. Of course, she had known Emmett since their first high school year — or should he say her first high school year? — and of course, one thing or another, she was bound to catch up about the Cullens. But to have detected him launching Alice a snowball... and to remember it, that was something.

"Be careful then," Emmett joked. "I can't make any promises."

"Oh, please," [y/n] rolled her eyes, shifting the way she sat so she could look to the front of the classroom. She continued without facing Emmett, "As if you would ever hit on me... I mean, on me! No! I mean, hit me! With a snowball."

Her face was so red Emmett thought her head was going to explode. Did humans' heads do that? Did they explode?

[y/n] saw he looked concerned, but she misinterpreted it. Emmett had barely noticed her slip in language use.

"I don't mean you would hit on me at all," she kept shaking her head as if to erase her language mistake. "Not that it matters; both are something you would never do," she whispered now, more to herself than to the boy, but being a vampire, he heard it all. "Forget it, Emmett. I'm so sorry."

Emmett was instantly calmer, but not because he was glad she apologised — why was she apologising again? — but because the redness was slowly disappearing from [y/n]'s face, which definitely meant she was not gonna explode, he felt very relieved, which surprised him. When Edward had mentioned, the year before, how easily humans could die, Emmett had thought his brother was being absurd. But he was worried about this human girl beside him for some reason.

He planned to ask [y/n] if she was indeed all right, but the professor walked in, and all the chances he had to do so seemed to disappear.

***

[y/n] could not, for her life, tell what Mr. Banner was going on and on about. Was it about cells? About nature? She was utterly unfocused, even though her eyes were fixed on the weird teacher. Well, actually, she would fix her gaze at anything and anyone, if that was enough, to avoid looking to her left and eyeing Emmett Cullen.

All her mind could do was blame herself. She had known Emmett since the Cullens came to the town; there was no reason for fuss. The family was undoubtedly the most beautiful of all. All of them could be models, including Dr. Carlisle, whom she met when she unintentionally had to stitch a bruise. Since entering high school and having known them, her gaze was fatally met with Emmett's.

It was not as if he had reacted in any other way, if not with boredom. She grew discouraged after each "incident" but continued to spy on the Cullen family. However, whenever Rosalie and Edward caught her staring, [y/n] felt uneasy and quickly averted her gaze. She knew there was no point in admiring Emmett Cullen when he already had Rosalie Hale by his side. So, who was [y/n] compared to the stunning blonde goddess?

[y/n] was extremely surprised when she witnessed the Cullens' return to Forks.

Seeing Bella Swan go through a "mourning process," [y/n] felt understood because she had felt the same way, although on a much smaller scale. However, she would never have confessed it or let it show. Who was she to miss the Cullens?

She never expected Edward Cullen or Emmett to come back, but one day, there they were. [y/n] arrived late one day and had not noticed the extra car in the parking lot. When it was time for biology class, [y/n] was caught off guard to see that she had a new (old) partner already sitting at the table they were supposed to share.

Letting herself dive into this thread of thought, [y/n] was sure that it was not at that moment, when he returned, that she saw herself surrendered to Emmett. Yes, she had gotten more loose and relaxed when she noticed that Rosalie had not accompanied her siblings or Jasper Hale because they had graduated. But Edward's gaze still haunted her. Something told her that the whole family moved by the boy's fault (even if the rumours said that Dr Carlisle had accepted a better job), so [y/n] was afraid that Edward would make his family move again.

After secretly paying attention, she was surprised to detect that Bella was also afraid of them disappearing again.

Before Biology class ended, [y/n]'s mind replayed a specific, very recent memory. The day before, she was about to write something down when her pen started failing. She thought she wasn't reacting noticeably, but somehow Emmett glimpsed her sudden need.

"Do you want a pen of mine to borrow?" he asked, already holding the thing out to her grasp.

[y/n] raised her eyes from her notebook to meet his golden gaze.

"Oh, thank you," she smiled, borrowing the pen.

Emmett had said nothing more and returned his gaze to Mr Banner. [y/n] thought she ought to do the same and rushed to write down the rest of the speech.

When the class had ended, [y/n] turned to Emmett before he could head out. "Here you go, Emm," she smiled at him, trying her hardest to look polite. "Thank you."

The nickname must have gotten him off guard — even though [y/n] was sure she had called him so before — because his golden eyes widened.

"You can keep it," he said, not a hint of hesitation, even though his expression seemed hesitant.

"Oh," [y/n] gasped. "Thanks again, then," she smiled with her cheeks high, feeling they were reddening.

It was then he surprised her: Emmett smiled.

She did not see it coming at all. [y/n] had talked to the boy before. They had even joked around — when Mr Benner said something sex-related, the duo was really juvenile for that topic, and they would always let a little chuckle out — but that smile was different. It was wide, genuine. Emmett showed all his beautiful white teeth at her, and she was mesmerised by the whole view. He had dimples.

Emmett Cullen had dimples!

[y/n] remembered stumbling in her words, trying to find something to say because she wanted Emmett to keep smiling. But he simply nodded at her and got up, leaving the classroom before [y/n] could form a coherent thought.

She spent the whole day revisiting the memory of his smile and dimples. She was frozen in that Biology class; it was as if she never left. In her mind, she kept the conversation going. She knew he was a clown — she liked him best of all the Cullens for it — and so perhaps, she could have prompted a joke, such as "Do you think we're so poor compared to you, rich Cullens, that I need a pen as a gift?" It could've been funny; maybe he would've kept smiling. Perhaps he would laugh but really laugh and not hold back as usual.

But, in the end, she said nothing, just like today.

When Mr Banner announced they were free, [y/n] instantly turned her gaze to Emmett.

"Oh, sorry there, Emm," she swallowed hard, trying to keep her brave facade as she spoke to him. "It seems there's no longer snow for your fight."

He shrugged, and a light of playfulness hit his face. "No problem there. I can just punch Edward straight up."

She wasn't sure if it had been his innocent way of speaking or if it had been the mention of just the right brother, but [y/n] cracked up in one of her loudest laughs yet. The students who hadn't already run out of the classroom all turned to stare at her.

Emmett seemed to get in a shocked state. He wasn't expecting that reaction.

"I'm sorry," [y/n] said, trying to catch her breath. It was not easy; she still wanted to laugh. "I... I don't know why that was so funny."

"Maybe because Edward has a very punchable face," Emmett suggested, letting go of his restraints and following [y/n] in chuckles.

"I'm sure you've done that many times," [y/n] raised a brow, instigating him to go on.

"Unfortunately," Emmett tilted, "no, I have not."

"Oh," [y/n] did not see that answer coming, "too much of a good brother?"

Emmett snorted a laugh. "Definitely not that. I just never seem to catch him," Emmett knew why that was so, whereas [y/n] would never have a clue: Edward read his mind any time Emmett tried to catch the sibling by surprise with punches or simply trying to give a scare.

As much as [y/n] wanted to continue the conversation, she had the next class to go to. She sighed lowly, but Emmett heard it right away, and he couldn't help smiling at her silly human reaction to leaving.

[y/n] stared at his smile like a child watching Santa come down from the chimney.

"Dimples," she thought aloud, not realising it until it was too late. Hoping Emmett didn't notice, she averted her eyes and started gathering her books, but the Cullen had heard it all too well.

He remained silent, though, allowing her heartbeat to stead again. When she was already up, probably about to nod him goodbye, he said, "You have dimples too."

***

Red is definitely her colour. How have I never noticed before? Besides that cute turtle neck she was wearing, when the red flushed her cheeks, that was...

The image totally got Edward by surprise. He was walking out of one of his classes when, passing the hallway, a mind ahead called his attention to a particular image. Then, the voice! The oh-so-familiar, very annoying mental voice of none other than Emmett Cullen.

In seconds, Edward was beside his sibling. "What was that?"

Shit! Emmett's face was as embarrassed as his mental voice. The sibling quickly started singing some random annoying pop song to pull Edward out of his mind, but it was too late.

"Why were you thinking of [y/n] like that?" Edward asked.

"Like what?" Emmett replied, but Edward's question worked, making Emmett revisit his thoughts, and [y/n]'s face popped up again, with Edward getting a complete view.

The old-school vampire was suddenly repulsed and stepped slightly to the side.

You are the one in my mind! Emmett accused him in thought.

"Not because I want to, believe me!" Edward exclaimed, returning to his spot next to Emmett. "Brother, I better hope you know what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything," Emmett said defensively.

Edward raised a brow, wishing Emmett could read his thoughts and see how foolish in love Emmett had thought about [y/n].

"Stay out of my business," Emmett nudged his brother. I can't find anyone pretty anymore?

"After having Rosalie, I highly doubt you'd think that of a human," Edward answered Emmett's unspoken question.

"Rosalie and I... we're not a couple. We have our fun; that's all," Emmett said. "Besides, we haven't had fun in decades; you know that."

Edward knew because he had read their sex-deprived thoughts before. Still, he had thought Emmett was evolving, for he had stopped picturing Rosalie in a… needy way. But now, it seemed it had a different reason why.

Suddenly, another piece fell into place.

"She has fallen for you," Edward gasped in such a whisper only vampire hearing could catch it.

What? Emmett's mind shouted. "Don't be silly," he said aloud.

"It was definitely you [y/n] mentioned having a crush on yesterday," Edward continued his theory, forcing them both to stop walking and stay in the middle of the hallway. "That's probably why she caught my attention; she must have exclaimed your name! In thought," he added, although it was apparent.

"Are you sure about this?" Emmett asked, out of habit mostly, for he knew that no amount of hoping could make Edward wrong, not when he had a sibling so powerful.

Emmett's mind was racing as he tried to process it all. It was the first time Edward had trouble keeping up with him. Emmett was generally slower, even mentally, than Edward, but that was not the case now as he tried to understand everything about [y/n]. Edward caught up to some images — [y/n] blushing, [y/n] making a joke and laughing alone, and then the terrifying one. It was similar to the ones Edward had regarding Bella, too: [y/n] with eyes so red and skin so pale that there was no denying her heart no longer beat.

But when Edward returned his gaze to his taller brother, Emmett was not sad at the view, not half as much as Edward was when he thought of Bella as a vampire.

"Stop it," Edward begged, noticing Emmett's mind went on; he had started enduring the idea of Bella talking to [y/n] about what it was like to love a monster.

Emmett shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. "Sorry, man. It's just that...I never thought someone like her would fall for me."

Edward's worries shifted topics. "Why would you say that?" Edward had felt like that; he still felt like that with Bella, always thinking of himself as a killer and not deserving of love. But Emmett was most comfortable being a vampire out of all his family members. So, his brother had never thought to see him doubting himself.

Emmett's thoughts were faster than his tongue. Not even Rosalie fell for me, not really, and she was the one that found me, and she's our... species. [y/n] is a human girl with a life ahead of her, a full one at that; I don't see how she'd fallen for me. "Are you sure it's love?" Emmett asked out loud.

"Well, she thought it was a crush," Edward replied, returning to his own memories of [y/n]. But he didn't dwell on them for long. Edward was still trying to process Emmett's confession about Rosalie. He had always seen Emmett as cheerful, never realising that his brother might also feel unloved. They had more in common than Edward had ever thought.

Emmett sighed, and even before Edward could say anything — advice or a comforting word — Emmett lowered his head. "I know, Edward. I understand the risks."

Edward frowned. He couldn't believe Emmett immediately concluded that Edward would be mad at him. Of course, there were risks, not just because the girl involved was human. Even if Emmett didn't think Rosalie loved him (and Edward, being a mind reader and all, agreed), she would also cause some trouble.

But who was Edward to judge his brother's choices regarding a human?

"Look, if you decide to pursue this relationship, I'll support you."

Emmett smiled, surprised but yet feeling grateful for his brother's support. Thank you, he thought, and Edward nodded.

Edward thought love was a powerful emotion, and he couldn't blame Emmett for feeling like he did. However, he hoped that Emmett would make the right decision, whatever that may be.

#emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen x y/n #emmett cullen #twilight saga #twilight #edward cullen

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cryptictongues · 1 year ago

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To Kiss is to Hunger

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: Mature word count: 5.0K summary: You are terrified to kiss Joshua. Joshua has an idea to remedy that.

warnings: practice kissing, grinding, touching, intimacy, mutual pining, insecurities and self-doubt, just straight up romance

Author’s Notes: Ngl I know I said it would be a little frisky, but just so happens I made it just a little bit friskier because Joshua is just a touch starved man. Just a heads up, please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

You couldn’t fathom why you are in the Shelves this late into the night. ‘It’s silly.” You think, walking around, trying to find anything to help you with your little dilemma. You tried to put your brain to rest, to calm its ravenous thoughts of anxiety, but the efforts were futile. And it is all because a teasing strawberry blond tried to kiss you.

You and the young Lord got quite close after his arrival to the Hideaway. You help out as a barmaid for Molly in the Ale House, and the first night of Joshua being out of the infirmary after the fall of Drake’s Tail had been all the talk. You would overhear conversations about how charming he was, how he was very knowledgeable about the lands of Valisthea, and how he is the brother of the leader of the Hideaway. He piqued your curiosity, as most newcomers do, but you didn’t think anything to come of it.

There was one night, however, where service wasn’t off its rig, and you had decided to take that time to practice your reading. Reading and writing are forbidden practices for Branded, and you were only able to learn reading due to old, scribbled writings thrown into the trash bins. You would rummage through for every written scrap in the dead of night and return it before your enslavers came to. To you, it was a piece to the puzzle of your freedom. But only a piece.

You were reading an old children’s fairytale: a prince in search of the long-lost princess who searched day and night to find her. You were immersed, so much so you hadn’t noticed the presence in front of you, seemingly still but present all the same.

“Ah, I read that story many times as a child. A true classic.”

Your head had snapped so far back you thought you would’ve fallen backwards. Your eyes jumped until they landed on the man before you, and you remember how wonderstruck you felt. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and the way he was looking at you had your stomach producing butterflies. You felt a sense of embarrassment, however, as the book you were reading was adapted for children. You knew those born with a silver spoon were highly educated, so to have someone as handsome and surely intelligent as he watching you read made you nervous to be a laughing stock.

“Yeah, but it’s more of a watered down version of it. I’m sure I’ll get to read the original someday.” You had awkwardly explained, waiting for him to make a joke of your lack of ability to read at a level that matched your maturity. That joke, however, never came. He stayed and asked you questions, such as who your favorite character was, what your favorite part of the story was, and so on. That conversation led beyond the book, and it is a fond memory of the golden boy.

It wasn’t long after that he offered to tutor you and made an extraordinary effort to give you books about topics you liked. Hell, he would even bring books back from long expeditions that him, Clive, and Jill would go on. “I found this story about sea fairies that I thought you would like.” “I saw a merchant selling a copy of this book I think you’ll enjoy.” “This book made me think of you.”

After many nights and days passing, it had become apparent that your heart had let him in, and you were relieved to know that his heart blazed for you also. However, unlike you, he is very evident about how he shows his feelings for you. He initiated the first hand holding, the first embrace, every tender moment you both have shared has been started by him. It makes you nervous, he makes you nervous, but in a conflicting way because you want everything he has to offer, yet your life of being treated less than for so long has put in the fear of not being enough. You fear you will misstep, embarrass yourself, he will realize he can have someone better, and let you down gently. He is a gentleman, after all.

All of the insecurities and doubts you hold have led you to the shelves due to this past evening's events.

A gathering of many members of the Hideaway was taking place, enjoying each other’s company, exchanging stories from the road, and eating and drinking so good that spirits were at an all time high. About halfway through the evening, Joshua and Clive had returned from their mission that had kept them away for well over a week, and joined everyone in the festivities. You could feel Joshua’s eyes on you constantly as you worked, soft gazes in your direction as you brought over more ale. You hadn’t seen each other since he had left, and you could see from the look in his eyes that he wanted you close, longing for your time.

And you weren’t the only one to sense it.

“Go on.” You heard Molly speak as you polished the cups.

“Hmmm?” You turned to see her smirking at you, nudging her head in the direction of the young Rosfield.

“You are free of your duties. You spend some time with everyone, especially you know who.”

You shook your head, your cheeks flushed. “I appreciate it, but Molly there is a lot to clean up. I can’t ask you to do this all by yourself.”

“Nonsense.” She scoffed, walking to you, taking the scrub and cup out of your hands, only to set them aside to grab your own. “We all deserve a little down time. Please, I insist.”

You hesitated, and her eyes softened. “In these troubling times, every moment counts; for anything can happen at any time. We must be selfish with our time.”

That alone had set you into motion. You had walked over to sit beside him, hip to hip, his arm draped around your side with his head leaning slightly against your own as Clive shared his and his brother’s adventures.

You could tell Joshua was more touchy than normal, not that you minded. You would feel him squeeze you from time to time. If you shifted slightly, he would adjust so you were still close to him. You would feel him turn his head to bury his face into your hair, gentle caresses of his lips against your scalp. No words were spoken between the two of you, just enjoying the night together with everyone. But even nights like these had to end.

You called it a night, telling everyone that you were going to head to the bed chambers, but not before Joshua insisted on walking you there. The two of you had bid goodnight to the others, and with your hand in Joshua’s grasp, the two of you walked to the bed chambers, small talk between the two of you as you both headed there slowly.

“I can’t believe you let Clive do that.” You giggled, Joshua’s story about his older brother shoving a carrot into his mouth to make him sick.

“He had reason, for we were in an unfortunate situation. We needed a reason to slip away.” Joshua grimaced, vaguely remembering the taste of the raw carrot. “Besides, I have always had a soft spot for my brother. I’d do anything for him.”

“I know having him back in your life has been a gift.” You smiled, waving his arm back and forth as you both approached the bed chambers. He pulled your arm back gently, causing you to turn into his arms. The way he was looking at you left you speechless; a thousand words being spoken through one look.

“Why yes, it has truly been a gift by the Founder to be reunited with my brother.” He brings your hand up to his chest, right above his heart; the thumping gingerly warming up your palm. “It has also been a gift to have the honor of being allowed your time, my lady.”

You shook your head, but before you could’ve said anything, Joshua had spoken once more. “On the topic of gifts, I have something for you.”

He slipped his free hand into the large pouch of his belt and pulled out what you can see is a book. He placed the book in both of your hands, grazing them before allowing you to inspect it. You recognized the artistry of the book: hardbound leather, intricate gold lining, and a sturdy weight in your hand. You looked at the title and you found yourself releasing a shaky breath.

“I thought you said there were no more copies.” You whispered, in disbelief as to what you were seeing. Enchanting thy Fair Maiden. It was a copy of a book Joshua has praised over. He would recite lines to you from what he memorized as a child, and you would ask him to retell them to you over and over again, never tiring from hearing his smooth voice telling you a tale.

“It took some bartering, but it was worth it if it means I could grant you a copy.”

Snapping from your mind, you looked to him, shaking your head in disbelief. “Joshua, I can’t accept this. This is one of your favorite stories. You should keep it.”

You tried pushing the book back into Joshua’s, but not before him grasping both of your hands and gently pushing it back into your vicinity. “My lady.” He begged. “I can reassure you that nothing would please me more than you accepting this gift.”

You stayed silent for a moment, a brief pause in the timeline aside from you and him, before smiling shyly, looking away from him in a flush. “I will cherish this for all days, Joshua. Maybe you can read it to me properly sometime.”

“Anything for you, dearest.”

Your gaze stayed down, not knowing how to bid farewell for the night, before you felt Joshua’s hand lightly touch your cheek, lifting your face for him to look upon. You sensed a certain hesitancy, his eyes seeking for something on your face before landing back on your own.

“May I try something?”

Everything started to go slow and fast at the same time, your mind racing and hyper focusing on every detail. You focused on how much closer Joshua had gotten to you, how his body heat had your body melting tenfold, how his face leaned down to yours, his hand stroking your cheek. You realized what he was asking to do: he was asking to kiss you.

Sudden flashes of self-doubt came crashing down onto you, Joshua’s hand on your branded cheek making you feel self-conscious. What is he doing? How can he want to kiss me? Oh, Greagor be with me, I have never kissed anyone. I am going to make a fool of myself!

Out of reflex and fear, you stepped back and away from Joshua’s reach. He looked startled, not expecting your reaction, and all you could do was stare at him as you calmed your heart down. You felt embarrassment shudder down your spine, but you knew that it would have been worse if you had attempted to kiss him.

You tried to shrug it off, chuckling awkwardly as if that would erase the last few seconds of shame you felt. “It is late. I’m afraid I must turn in. Goodnight, Joshua.”

You flung the chamber door open and closed it just as fast without a glance in Joshua’s direction, your back hitting the wood as you worked your anxieties down.

Now you’ve really done it stupid stupid STUPID!

So here you are, looking for a kissing manual that doesn’t exist.

“I can’t believe it has come to this.” You moan, shaking your head at how pathetic you currently feel. You want to kiss him; of course you want to kiss him! But the thought of kissing him and making a complete fool out of yourself has strung itself high in your head. You will do anything to ease your anxieties, and if finding literature that will help you is the way, then so be it.

You keep searching the shelves, and finally you see something that catches your attention. You see a book with a deep red spine, and immediately you become curious. Red means romance which maybe means kissing, right? you think and go to reach for it, your tippy toes giving you an extra inch that helps you grab the old spine of the book. Once the book is grasped, you give it a once over and what you see is nothing at all. The book has no title, no author, no nothing. Just hardbound leather that looks as if it had been dyed with blood.

You move to sit at a table, the kissing debacle hiding in the back of your skull as a new curiosity peeks. You stare at the book intently, like it was going to open up for you to tell you all of its secrets. A book with no visible identity, no mark.

The curiosity killed the cat as you finally flipped it open, the crackle of the pages singing, showing its age. The first few pages are barren with no offering until you reach the first official page. You read, smiling because you can read everything on the page in comprehension, but also because it’s a love poem. You never have had the chance to read poetry thus far, so this was a treat for you. Just the thing I need to ease my mind.

You continue reading the poems, most being about love, companionship, and things in the realm of romance. As you read them, you picture Joshua and yourself, like the two of you were living in the reality of this book full of lovely prose. In a way, it makes you recognize that maybe what Joshua sees in you is what you are imagining right now: a lover, a partner for life. You feel a sense of confidence swell in you, so you read on, addicted to the words written out.

Until you get to the next page.

What you read next halts your breathing, slowing it down to stop fire from growing in your chest. This poem is about the same things previously stated, love, romance, companionship, but in a much more intimate form. The words strung together formed the most erotic sentences, words of longing for the senses. They make you blush hotly; they make you antsy in your chair while locked in, but most especially they make your mind run wild with fantasies of you and him.

Oh, you and him.

You mind wanders as you read, zoning out into a reality where you exude the confidence to give into Joshua’s desires and more. The words dig into your skin, warming you up that your thin nightgown felt like plenty of layers on this cool night. You are so immersed that you don’t hear the large doors open, and the calling of your name feels like a figment of your imagination. It’s not until you feel the warmth on your shoulders that you are brought back, feeling like a bucket of cold water has been dropped over your head from the cold sweat.

You slam the book shut, turning so quickly that the room starts to spin before the warmth on your shoulders grows firm, steadying you in your seat. You look to see Joshua staring at you, worry showing on his face seemingly from your reaction. “I deeply apologize, my lady. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You breathe a chuckle, seeing him here at a time like this would be your luck. You cross your arms, becoming extremely aware of your lack of clothing under his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He retorts and pulls out a chair to sit facing you. “Truthfully, I couldn’t sleep much. I came here to see if doing more research would tire me, but it seems fate has chosen a more direct route to my restlessness.”

You see why he can’t sleep, and sigh because this is from your doing. “Joshua, you have nothing to fret over. You did nothing wrong.”

“But I’m afraid you are wrong, my lady. I shouldn’t have been so forward, and to know I put you in an uncomfortable position upsets me greatly. I would never dream of making you uneasy, and for my mishaps I must apologize to you. I cannot bear the thought of you keeping your distance because of my foolishness.”

You watch him as he apologizes for his directness, which internally makes you laugh because that isn’t the issue. You love his directness, just as he is being direct with you right now. It’s you. It’s your cowardice for wanting something more and not having the courage to pursue because of the what ifs, the buts, the howevers. It’s your fear of rejection because of your lived experiences. It’s you, not him.

“Joshua.” You state, moving to grab his hands within your own. “You did nothing wrong.”

“My lady, please I-”

“Shhh,” you hush. “Let me speak.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, and I apologize for making you feel you need to.” You exhale, preparing to open yourself up for display. “It’s all me. I’m inexperienced, and I’ve been viewed as nothing for so long that I’m fearful that one misstep will set you away; that you can have someone who knows what they are doing and have the confidence to show for it.”

“Is that really what this is about?” Joshua asks.

You nod, looking down at the two of your intertwined hands. You see Joshua’s hands pull away from yours and your breath shakes. This is it. He is going to leave. That’s until you feel the heat that only the Phoenix could exude on your cheeks, your head being brought up to see him smiling. “My dearest,” Joshua whispers, as if talking any louder would damn him. “You are my everything, for you have captured me: mind, body, and soul. Also, your inexperience mirrors mine, I can assure you.”

Your eyes widen. “There is no way that can be true. You are a Lord.”

He’s laughing now, shaking his head as his hands go back to you, grasping them with care. “I was only a child then. Besides, the Undying were very protective of me under their care. There was no time nor place for such things. Even then, the only person that was always allowed in my vicinity was Jote, and we have never viewed each other romantically.”

“So, there really has been no one?” You whisper, your mind stuck between disbelief and credence.

“No. Not until now.” He squeezes your hands. “My heart belongs to you, and you alone. There is no one else I’d rather give myself to.”

You shiver, the idea of experiencing forms of intimacy together for the first time spreads a raging fire in your stomach. “You sure have a way with words, Joshua Rosfield.”

“You can thank all of the romance novels I read in my youth.” He chuckles. “Speaking of books, what were you reading?”

“What?” You ask, forgetting about the erotica sitting inches away from you.

“The book you were reading. I don’t believe I have read that one yet. May I take a look?”

You are panicking, knowing the contents of the book and who is asking to take a peek. You go to grab it, reacting as fast as you could, but alas you reacted too late. Joshua now has the book, opening the page you had left off on, and starts to read. You see his eyes go wide, his pupils dilating, his fingers fidgeting against the page he is holding. You freak out, going to reach for the book before he reads further. “Okay Joshua, that’s enough.” A smile creeps up slowly on his face, humming as he moves to stand up before your fingertips touch the book, backing away slowly as he continues. You stand up, walking up to him to get that god forsaken book away from him.

“Oh Joshua, please give me back the book!” You panic.

“By the Founder, what possessed you to read this smut?” Joshua smirks, seamlessly avoiding your grabby hands as he reads the pages. “Especially in the middle of the night?”

He wasn’t meant to see this! He wasn’t meant to see you reading the abhorrent words you were consuming. He wasn’t meant to see you like this in your flimsy gown. Damn me! Why did I not cover up more?!

“To taste the lips is to be fulfilled, for the instinct of man is to claim, conquer, and revel in the midst of her flesh. To kiss is to hunger, to feast among the softest of petals that call to him, beckoning for his return to get both of their fills.”

You are internally screaming now. You can’t believe he is tormenting you like this. You are still reaching for the book, desperate for this nightmare to end, before you hear an “oomph” as Joshua’s back collides into one of the shelves. You snatch the book from him, running back to put it back where it came from. “Okay, enough please!”

“Forgive me.” Joshua says, although it is said with a devilish grin. “I just didn’t know you had such… exquisite taste.”

“I didn’t even know what was in the book when I pulled it.” You say defensively, hands waving manically in front of you like they would make you more convincing. “I was just trying to find something that would help give me the courage.”

As if that isn’t as embarrassing, or even more so.

“What if we do something that helps us both gain courage? A practice session if you will.” Joshua says from the other side of the room, keeping his distance to see what tone you will take.

“What do you have in mind?” You draw out nervously, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation.

Joshua walks back over to where you both had sat, moving the chair so it was facing you before sitting down. He rubs his thighs a little as if he needed to warm them up, before patting his lap. “Come take a seat.”

Instinct has you taking a step forward before a hitch finds itself in your feet, stopping them all together.

“Do you trust me?” He asks sincerely.

“Of course, I do.” You quickly blurt out, as if answering a second later would draw doubt.

He smiles, his hand reaching out to invite you over. “Then please, my dearest, come to me.”

You take a deep breath and walk over till you stand before him. You grasp his hand, tingles running up your arm as he pulls you to him and guides you onto his lap. Your hands move to steady yourself on his shoulders, while he places his hands on your lower back to support you. Your legs dangle on either side of the chair, your gown riding up your thighs which you are all too aware of. However, you note that Joshua is only looking at you, gauging to see where your head is. “Is this okay, my lady?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, trying to calm your rapid heart. This is so intimate, too intimate, but you want it. You want him. You want to create every kind of intimacy with him, and this is a start. You knew that it is time to take that leap, especially since he will take that leap with you.

“Joshua,” you murmur, eyes still on his. “Will you kiss me?”

“As you wish, my love.”

You close your eyes, leaning in slightly to show that you aren’t backing out. You feel one of Joshua’s hands move to your left cheek, your branded cheek, tracing it with his thumb gently. Soon you feel him move forward, his forehead sitting against yours, his breath hitting your lips in puffs. The anticipation was killing you, your hands squeezing his shoulders to urge him on, and before you know it his lips are against your own. The kiss is light, a sweet peck before pulling away slightly, only to go back to give one more. You both are testing the waters, giving into each other slowly until the two of you start to grow peckish.

The kiss is gradual, pecks graduating to long lip locks and more movement. Your hands have found homage in Joshua’s hair, gripping not too hard but enough to show him how much you are enjoying him. His hands found their way to the crease of your hips, gripping the flesh to keep you in place. You can feel yourself growing restless, needing more of him within your senses.

It’s like he can read your mind as his hands bring your body closer. A gasp leaves your lips as his groin settles against your heat, leaving your head spinning. His kisses become feverish, his hands roaming up and down your thighs, your nightgown receding higher in the process. You sense satiability is nowhere in sight, the movements of his body proving to you that the absence of intimate touch has turned him into a depraved man. Because even though Joshua Rosfield is a gentleman with a heart of selflessness, he is still a man with selfish desires and needs.

Your hands go back to grip at his shoulders, trying to calm yourself from his ministrations. A wetness hits your lips, and your mouth opens willingly, needing to taste him further. Your tongues melt together, creating a unique taste between the two of you that’s so addicting you don’t know how either of you will stop. You lean more into him, your hands going back to his hair to control his movements, causing him to groan in the most sinful way. You pull away, giggling knowing you got him to make such pretty sounds. The confidence from it goes straight to your head, going right back in for his lips to have him make more delicious sounds.

A deep feral groan is released from Joshua’s throat, causing him to pull away in heavy breaths. He looks at you with hazy eyes, smiling deliriously. “You will be the death of me, my love.”

Your hands are now trailing from his hair to his chest, your hands running up and down the fabric of his tunic, feeling the toned body beneath it all. Your head leans back against his forehead, both of your breaths heavy on each other’s lips. “Then shall death keep us together, never parted.”

Joshua leans up back to your lips, kissing you hungrily, your declaration causing him to hunger for more. You still had the high ground, you being on top giving you more opportunity to take the lead. You knew this could be too soon, a little risky, but your sureness that Joshua feels the same hunger as you do is enough to convince you. You start to grind down slowly on top of him, your undergarments and his matching tunic pants the only barriers.

“Fuck,” Joshua draws out breathless, his arms coming up to wrap around you to ground himself.

“Does that feel good, my Lord?” You smile, feeling over the moon that you are making him act this way.

“You have no idea.” Joshua gasps. “You have turned me into a new man.”

You giggle as you continue your movements. “Is that so?”

“By the Founder, yes!” He groans loudly at a particular movement of your hips. “How about I show you.”

Suddenly you are being lifted up, your butt settled onto a hard surface, legs spread apart by Joshua’s hips, and warm lips ravishing your own. Your nightgown is definitely way past your legs now, bunched up at your hips with Joshua’s hands right under the fabric. This new side of Joshua has you addicted, the push and pull the both of you are playing at exciting you more. You release his lips and lean up to his neck, nipping at the skin at the juncture of his neck and jaw. His breath hitches, leaning into you as you nip and kiss his neck. It’s as if he is hypnotized by your love bites, casting a spell on him. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you, but in an instant everything stops.

You open your eyes to see Joshua breathing hard, his hands gripping the table. Your hands go to his face, worry etching into your brain. “Darling, did I do something wrong?”

Joshua laughs, his eyes opening to look right back at you. “Absolutely not.” His hands go to yours on his face, holding onto each one as he brings them down. “I just don’t want to accomplish everything in one night, especially here in the Shelves.”

He pulls you up to your feet, your hands still in his as he looks at you with the brightest smile on his face. “I want to have time to savor you when the time is right.”

Even after all of that, he is still ever the gentleman.

“I agree. I’m sorry if I went too far.” You chuckle, a tinge of embarrassment in your tone.

Joshua embraces you, his head tucked into your neck. “You have nothing to apologize for. I hope you don’t think I had ulterior motives.”

“Never,” you say quickly, squeezing him to you.

“We should head back to our respective beds before people notice we’ve disappeared.” Joshua hums.

You hum in agreement and pull back, so you are now under Joshua’s arm. Both of you head out the doors of the Shelves into the cool night air. You shiver, and Joshua brings you in closer to shield you from the cold. He walks you back to the bed chambers, and before he departs, he places a light kiss on your lips, causing your eyes to flutter close at the bliss you feel in the moment.

“Goodnight, my dearest. I shall see you in the morning.” Joshua says after he pulls away.

“Goodnight, Joshua. But before you go, may I request something?”

“Anything for you, my dearest.”

“Can we practice some more later? You are my tutor after all.” And my lover, my partner for life.

Joshua beams at you. “I would love nothing more.”

#joshua rosfield x reader #joshua rosfield fluff #joshua rosfield smut #ffxvi x reader #ffxvi #joshua rosfield #joshua x reader #my fics #final fantasy xvi

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fictionalmenxyn · 6 months ago

Text

꧁𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠꧂

Pairing: frat!rafe x sorority!reader

Face claim: Sophia Birlem

Warning: drinking

Summary: a party that leaves them thinking. Is this more than a simple football player and coaches daughter?

(Kai is your brother, older by a year and your last name for this maybe series depends if u guys like it. Your last name is Maddens.)

Reader has souther accent/they all do…

(Been into country recently so I am referencing a song in this, so if you don’t like country, think of another song :))

(Also a little author’s note/life update, idk if you’ll read this, but I got into college! Can’t even believe it tbh. It’s nuts! Cause originally I wanted to do sixth form (I’m British btw). But my school couldn’t do it this year. So I went to apply for college and today I officially became a student!! :D)

꧁𖥕𖥕𖥕꧂

It was one of the first frat parties of the summer. Weather was warm and booze kept on flowing.

You were with your friends at the frat house Rafe, Topper, Kelce and Kai. You were grabbing drinks with your friends. Pouring yourself a Malibu and coke into your red solo cup. You grab the sharpie and wrote ‘y/n/n’ . You put the sharpie down, then sipping your drink, you head to the living space.

You and your friends walked over to the makeshift dance floor of the living space. The couches had been pushed back and the coffee table out of the way, making room to dance.

You and your friends danced like there was no tomorrow. And that’s what you lived about you and your friends, you weren’t ashamed to have a good time, unlike most girls in your classes.

The football boys were all playing beer pong. Rafe was sat with Kelce as they both waited their turn to play. Rafe glanced around the place, then he was you. God you looked so good tonight, you did anyways, but tonight felt different. Maybe it’s because you aren’t in jeans or your cheer or soccer clothes. But he didn’t mind what you wore, it was you that he liked.

He sipped his beer and watched you dance with your girlfriend’s care free. He liked that about you. You’ve both hung out multiple times. I mean he’s your brother’s best friend ALSO one of your dad’s star players. He’s talked to you many times, but tonight seemed different.

He smiles a little as he watches you flip your hair side to side as you swing your hips and laugh with your friends. Many guys had their eyes on you tonight, including Rafe.

Kelce broke his thoughts “dude, quit eyeing up Y/n all night, man” “shut it, Kelce.” Kai smirked “dude we know you like my sister, admit it, besides pretty sure she likes ya back… but you didn’t hear shit from me, yeah??”

Rafe smirked.

He glances to you one last time, before taking his turn in beer pong.

Five minutes ago… (your pov)

You laughed with your friends, then Brooklyn tapped your shoulder. She said “hey, Rafe is lookin’ at you again, girl.” You smirked “oh really?” She laughed and nodded. “Give him a show, girly!!” You both laughed as you playfully flipped your hair side to side and swing your hips to the beat. Brooklyn encouraged you even more. So you lightly smack your thighs as you keep your hands there as you sway your hips.

You look over your shoulder to see Rafe now playing beer pong, stealing glances from you every so often. “Girl, he’s so into you, it’s so obvious now…” you shrug her comment off. Why would he be interested in you? He has girls left right and centre… yeah you’re popular and naturally pretty. But girls go it him, isn’t that what he likes? Right…?

After some time, you walk over to the drinks table to grab your third drink. You walk over to the big wooden table that you know has been repaired so many times that you can’t count on your hands anymore. You were about to grab the Malibu bottle when you hear your name. “Y/n!”

You look over your shoulder and smile “Hey Rafe, great party tonight” he grins as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. “Thanks, glad you came…” you nodded “glad I did, how’s Kai? He’s not wasted yet is he??” He laughs “no, not yet anyways, what about you? How many have you had?” You replied “this will be my third. Been to busy dancing that getting more drinks.”

He chuckled “yeah I saw, you look good tonight.” You laugh and put your hand up, you said lightheartedly “please, spare me your reused white bitch pick up lines.” He laughs. He liked that about you, your humour and the fact you didn’t fall easy. It gets boring to him if you fall easy, that’s why he didn’t have feeling for the hook ups he would have.

He held up the Malibu bottle “here, lemme put you one, as I’m a good host.” You sarcastically laugh “good one, Cameron, you’d be pouring one for everyone if you were a good host.” He laughed back “who says I wanna be a good host to everyone??” “Touché, Cameron.”

He poured the coke, then handed you the solo cup “try that, princess.” You take a sip and hold your thumbs up. He smirked “good?” You nodded “yep, thanks.”

He looked over to the boys for a moment, he saw them move their hands in a usher motion as a silent ‘stay with her’. He playfully rolled his eyes then turns back to you. “Wanna dance?” You smirked “I thought you’d never ask, Cameron.” You stuck your hand out and guide him over to where you were minutes ago…

You held his hand with one of your hands as the other held your drink. You stuck your arm up in the air, while his didn’t pass the top of his head; due to height difference. You smile, tilting your head back as you dance to the rhythm. He smiled down at you. He could get used to this odd feeling he had deep down.

You hear a country song come on, you gasp when you knew what it was. ‘Dirt on my boots’ by Jon Pardi, started to blast through the speakers. You were surprised to hear a country song, but you were happy. You loved this song, Kai knew, so Rafe knew. Maybe he might’ve been in control of the speakers and added this song, just for you…

You sway your hips as you sing out, in your best thick southern accent “give me half an hour, for a shave and shower and I’ll be outside of your house!”

You started to do your own sort of line dancing when you sang your heart out “might have a lil’ dirt on my boots! But I’m takin’ you uptown tonight! Might have a lil’ mud on my wheels! But they’re gonna shine with you up inside!” Thank god you had your black cowboy boots on tonight. Matched your black dress perfectly.

The boys all watched you and Rafe together. Kai smirked, he knew his best friend was falling for his sister. And honestly, he wasn’t mad. Yeah sureee, best friend and sister, some may say is bad. But Kai could definitely see you both as a couple; no doubt about it.

Rafe watched you in awe as you kept line dancing to the chorus “might have a lil’ dirt in my boots!” He chuckled at your carefree attitude. God, he loved it… he loved you.

You smirked as you looked to Rafe. You took off his snapback, pulling it on your head. He didn’t know what to do with himself. It may be a baseball cap, but it was his. And you were in it.

You both continue to dance as the song died down. You smiled “bet you didn’t expect that?!” He laughed “definitely didn’t, princess.”

You both headed over to the drinks table as Rafe wanted to grab another beer. You look around to see your friends are either with their boyfriend or a possible friend or even hook up. You looked back to Rafe “you don’t mind if I stick with you and the guys?” He shook his head “we won’t mind, c’mon” he stuck his hand out, hoping you’d grab his hand.

You intertwined your hands, he could get use to this.

He guides you both through the parts of crowds. Until you got to one of the random couches in the ‘family’ room. Which the frat house turned into a chill sports room to watch football or any other sports they were interested in.

You hug your brother, Kai joked “he been behaving??” You laugh “of course.” He smirked then let you go. Rafe patted the spot on the couch next to him. Then Kai subtly nudged Topper to sit in that spot. You playfully roll your eyes at your brother’s actions, he wasn’t subtly, at all. You were very close to Kai, so he knew you well and you knew him well.

Kai wasn’t really protective, in a certain way. He was if he didn’t know the people you hung out with. But he knew you could handle yourself and carry your own. So he never tried to interfere with your drama, unless he needed. So the ‘thing’ between Rafe and yourself. He knew it was your choice and he’d let you do whatever. But Kai has already gave everyone in the frat house the ‘if you ever get with my sister and break her heart, I’ll break your face’ talk.

You see Topper had got comfy in your, well was, spot. Rafe patted his thigh “come on, you know I don’t bite.” You laugh and shake your head at his comment. You walk over and sit on his lap. He kept a hand on your hip. Not knowing how far you’d let him put his hands on you. So he kept the simple, hand in hip. Subtly way for guys to back off you, also simple ways for Rafe to have you close.

You chatted with most of the boys, Rafe just listened. Your voice was honey to him. And it was perfect that you talked a lot. Not in a rude way, but you lived to socialise with people you knew well. Like the other day. You came over the frat house to drop off something for Kai. Then ended up having a hour and half conversation with Topper about a new movie you both had seen. Or another time where you were sat on the field with the football team. After a training you were talking with them. You loved to talk and you were good at getting people to talk back; even if they were shy. You were a very confident yet comforting person to be with and talk to. You were good at that, which Rafe loved and appreciated.

Before you knew it, it was already half one in the morning. You told your friends you’d meet them out front by one thirty. So you had to go. You hugged the guys and bid your farewells.

As you headed out the house, you met up with your friends. Two of your friends, boyfriends were coming back to your sorority house. So you girls weren’t walking home on your own.

One of the guys said “hey, Y/n? Whose hat is that??” You touched the top of your head. Your tipsy self gasped and covered your mouth for a moment. Your friends all laughed “whose is it??”

“Oh my god, it’s Rafe’s hat, I forgot to give it back.” You laugh.

“Hmm maybe you’ll have to go give it back… oh! Maybe he didn’t tell you on purpose!”

Correct.

“I’ll have to go back tomorrow…”

“Oh yeah you are, we’ll kick you over there otherwise!”

You and your friends all laugh together.

What a great night. And what a great day to come. Hopefully Rafe won’t be too made that you stole his hat… maybe he’s not even mad at all.

Correct.

꧁𖥕𖥕𖥕꧂

Shall I make this a series??? Plz let me know either through ask box or messages, plz and thx, have a good day/night all!! 🫶🫶

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sleepanonymous · 12 days ago

Text

If you liked the Teeth of God Graphic Novel and would like more cosmic horror fiction to consume, I would recommend:

Movies (also short stories/novels)

The Color Out of Space

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Originally a short story by HP Lovecraft, “The Color Out of Space” was made into a film in 2019, directed by Richard Stanley. Essentially a meteorite that crashes into a farm in Massachusetts begins to infect life around it with a new color. It’s way better than I make it sound. Think “Evil Dead Rise” meets “The Thing.” I don’t want to give away too much, but Nick Cage and Tommy Chong are in the movie, so you know it’s outrageous.

Annihilation

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The novel (the first of 4) was published in 2014 by author Jeff VanderMeer, and the movie was released in 2018, directed by Alex Garland. I haven’t read the novel or the “Southern Reach” series, but the movie is easily one of my top favorite horror films. Similar to "The Color Out of Space", a “meteor” crashes on a beach of a wildlife preserve in Florida, creating an anomaly known as Area X, or The Shimmer. Also similar to “The Color Out of Space”, all life inside the anomaly is affected and altered (Crosby, Stills & Nash begins to play solemnly in the background). Funnily enough, the author denies any and all correlation to Lovecraft’s short story.

The Mist

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Created by Stephen King, the movie was directed by Frank Darabont. It’s undeniably King, so that depends on if you’d like this novella/film or not. Less space and more interdimensional, “The Mist” is about a catastrophic storm/supposed military experiment gone wrong, which created a tear in the space-time continuum that unleashes multidimensional horrors. I haven’t seen the show, but I have read the novella and seen the 2007 movie. Unlike the two recommendations above, “The Mist” focuses less on an affliction to biology and more on the people attempting to survive with heavy religious undertones. I personally preferred the novella to the film.

Event Horizon

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Opposite to the above three, this was a movie first and then was adapted into a novel. The film came out in 1997, and was directed by Paul WS Anderson. The novel adaptation was written by Steven E. McDonald and released the same year. This one is less “cosmic horror comes to Earth” and more “humans go to the cosmic horror” in a basic sense. “Event Horizon” is about a space vessel (😏) by the same name that is capable of interdimensional travel in order to make otherwise impossible space voyages. The vessel disappeared for several years before suddenly turning up orbiting Neptune while issuing an SOS call. The story follows a space crew who goes to investigate what happened and are met with The Horrors™. The film unfortunately fell victim to the Hollywood machine, but still has a lot of potential and can give you a lot to think about.

The Thing

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Since I mentioned it previously, I thought I’d recommend it as well. “The Thing” is a classic, though small-scale, cosmic horror story. If you haven’t seen/read any version of it, I highly recommend the 1982 John Carpenter version. There's also the original 1951 film, “The Thing from Another World,” which is based on the novel “Who Goes There?”, and a 2011 remake. The novel and original film take place in Alaska, but the latter adaptations are based in Antarctica. The basic plot is a scientific team discovers an alien spacecraft/organism frozen in the ice, and the ultimate game of "Among Us" ensues.

The Void

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“The Void” is a 2016 film directed by Steven Kostanski and Jeremy Gillespie. According to reviews, you’re either going to love this film (like me) or hate it. This movie is based more around the occult and an eldritch being versus something from space, but does have similar tones and elements to all of the above recommendations and the graphic novel. This is the only film to not have a novel/written counterpart. It also has absolutely disgusting (/positive) practical effects.

ARGs:

Local 58 TV

This ARG is comprised of several YouTube videos designed to look like recordings from a local American television station spliced with cosmic horror. I don’t want to give away to much because all the videos are superb, but there is definitely something funky going on with the moon.

The Sun Vanished

This ARG originated on Twitter and follows a user who woke up one morning to find that the sun has vanished and the world has been plunged into chaos. Since the social media site has become increasingly unfavorable under its new owner, I’ll leave you with a link to a full 4+ hour YouTube narration below (I know it’s long but it's so worth it).

youtube

Video Games:

Dead Space

The original video game was released in 2008 by EA, and was remade in 2023. There are also two game sequels, an art book, novel, several comics, and a graphic novel linked to the franchise. I personally have only played the first game and the 2023 remake, and the premise is the player character is part of a search and rescue team for a spaceship that has an alien artifact called The Marker on board. It has a similar plot in the beginning to “Event Horizon” and also has religious/occult undertones like in “The Mist” and "The Void." Also Vessel from Sleep Token played this game.

#sleepanon rant #cosmic horror media rec that nobody asked for edition #instead of writing a review i made this instead #hey vessel do you wanna have a movie night with me 👉👈🥺#i wouldn’t mind rewatching these with you #sleep token #teeth of god graphic novel #youtube video #cw flashing #cw gore #cw body horror

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scoobydoodean · 9 months ago

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I was wondering if you, as a Dean fan have opinions about the different writers? Mostly because I see a lot of Dean fans really strongly dislike Dabb for some reason and I don’t really understand why. I’ve never seen a concrete explanation beyond “he can’t write Dean/doesn’t understand Dean/actively hates Dean” but with no examples as to what he does that’s so bad. And I see this in every shipping lane. I don’t have a strong opinion about him as a writer one way or the other.

I'm exploring this more as I rewatch the show (currently on season 6) so I'll speak mainly from that perspective on my most recent thoughts. I am not a big fan of Dabb or Loflin, but have tried to be fair about things so far when talking through each episode. I am a fan of "Alpha and Omega"—it's my favorite finale (it's also... a finale for a season Carver started as showrunner? So I don't know what the implications are there as far as storyboarding). Also points for having demon Dean stab a guy through in 10.02.

I'll focus on the negatives you asked about in this post, but in the links you'll find me moving the narrative this way and that toward much more charitable readings... I think. (I do have a tag #dabb disk horse which you can either peruse or blacklist at your leisure). What I can tell you is something almost always strikes me as a off about Dabb/Loflin episodes so far in this rewatch in terms of character work.

Dabb/Loflin's first ever episode was 4.06 "Yellow Fever". In the aftermath, Kripke felt the need to release a definitive interpretation of their episode to the public, stating, "Dean is not a dick... he's a hero." The whole episode toyed with, to an extent, the idea that all the victims of the MotW were bullies. You can take this other directions—for example, queer meta, or meta about Sam as the real bully. However, the story a lot of fandom latched onto was that "Dean is a jerk and deserves to be humiliated and punished for that" which obviously didn't make Dean fans watching live in season 4 happy—and this theme of Jerk!Dean continues into their next episode, "After School Special", where they once again parallel Dean with a bully literally nicknamed "Dirk the Jerk" by Sam, and throw what I think is transparent shade at Kripke's issued statement from before the Christmas break (post here)... or maybe they mean to throw shade at the Dean fans who got angry. In this episode, they also make illusions to Dean wanting to have sex with barely legal high school cheerleaders, which also did not ingratiate them to Deanfans at the time. I said on my last rewatch, "In After School Special, Dean seems more unlike himself than any episode ever in the history of Supernatural up to this point" (post explaining that here). I carry similar sentiments about portions of 5.06 "I Believe The Children Are Our Future". Yes—I am aware of performing Dean meta. I just... feel like they try a little too hard. It feels hamfisted—desperate. To the point it doesn't feel like Dean anymore sometimes. In 5.06, they also have Dean (guy who is generally very protective of kids) suggest to Jesse that he'd be good to have in a fight???? I can see how they got there, but again—it just feels... off. The last episode I rewatched that they authored, 6.04 "Weekend At Bobby's", also leaves a bad taste in my mouth—not in what it's trying to do with Bobby or what it's trying to do on a meta level—but once again, with dialogue from Dean that just makes me think "he would not fucking say that" (post here). I think looking at all of these, you can probably see deangirl ire toward Dabb has a long history. It's been around as long as he's been around, whether he deserves as much ire as he gets or not.

I haven't circled back yet on this rewatch, but Dabb and Loflin also penned season 7's "The Girl Next Door"... do I need to say anything specific? Maybe I'll just link my entire #amy tag. What narrative did they want you to get from that episode? Who the fuck knows. And that's often the problem:

When you watch various episodes I've mentioned, you can work around to a meta that tells you something different than you might at first think the page conveys—something hidden and maybe contradictory. The thing is... you could also... not do that? And that wouldn't be so bad, except that sometimes the two narratives you can most easily grasp completely contradict each other. "After School Special" can be an episode that points to Sam's envy of Dean and John deep down and foreshadows Sam becoming a bully, but on a meta level, it also just as easily says Sam becoming a bully is somehow Dean's fault, and Sam is some poor captive baby. Dean is a creep and a bully and a cheater but we should all coddle him because he saw his mom die when he was a child and he's sooo sad. "Yellow Fever" can be a queer meta story and might also foreshadow approaching Bully!Sam in 4.14, but it also very much does call Dean a jerk (should we take that seriously? should we not?) and implies Dean should be punished for the outcome of three decades of reality-bending torture. Even if it's a queer meta underneath... it's just as easily one about how closeted men should be humiliated for cowardice or how being closeted turns you into an asshole.

Jumping way ahead, I have to mention 15.10 "The Hero's Journey" just because. Yes, it is full of jokes and Garth goodness, but also tries to sell you the story that nothing about Sam and Dean is real, to a degree that feels like you are being flipped the bird for ever watching this show. And again—you can make meta that it's all a ruse! But is it? Or is Dabb actually just telling you to go fuck yourself? Like he totally wasn't when, after the SPN finale when fans were Not Happy™️, he tweeted a sign reading, "Don't feed the baboons"? Yet again—we play into the motif of the "hero" who isn't a hero at all but some pathetic loser who deserves to be publicly humiliated, bookended with Dabb's opening episode in his opening season. I'm not saying that's what it is on purpose—but I am saying you can make these arguments easily, and that leaves me consistently annoyed with Dabb for being fucking sloppy and leaving me to deal with some of the most insufferable meta imaginable that carries little support outside of episodes written by Dabb or the Dabb/Loflin writing team.... Yes—I am in fact saying that Dabb and Loflin's hamfisted episodes (regardless of their intentions) are largely responsible for some of the most insufferable, loathesome fandom metas about Sam and Dean's relationship around.

Look at 5.16 "Dark Side Of The Moon", and 7.08 "Time for A Wedding!" and 8.14 "Trial and Error", 11.17 "Red Meat", and 15.20 "Carry On". Along with 4.13, while they might or might not say something deeper or contradictory on a meta level, on a surface level, every single one of these episodes sows the narrative that Dean is needy and clingy and needs Sam more than Sam needs him—something I intensely disagree with for a multitude of reasons... but I'll just link this. Many of these episodes also follow a surface level narrative of "normal life obsessed Sam" (and here I'll link my entire #sam the hunter tag and #in which sam is not a helpless little waif with his hands cast over his eyes being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea). When I look at this episode list, I also don't find it at all difficult to believe that Dabb wanted Dean to die in the finale. There is nothing at all shocking about that. And yes—you can argue he's pointing to the opposite—that this fate should be subverted and that's what makes 15.20 the dark ending, but I think you can just as easily argue that yes it's a dark ending and yes Dabb has always dreamed of this ending. A "tragic" ending where Dean dies and Sam goes on to have a white picket fence... while also leaving you little hints along the way that maybe it's all a big ruse because how could he not? He never has to explain anything. Someone else will pick up the story and make it make sense. He's already fucked off to piss all over fans of Resident Evil.

That said, when I mention what I feel is off character work, I mainly mention Dabb/Loflin episodes from my recent rewatch, which suffer from the two of them being newer to the series (coming onto the writing team in season 4) and also leave questions about whether, perhaps, they had conflicting ideas about characterization. Was Dabb the one penning these lines? Was it Loflin? Was it both? Did they trade out who took the lead? I didn't really say anything negative about "Sam, Interrupted" or "Jump the Shark"... (though "Sam, Interrupted" also calls Dean "codependent") who wrote those? Is it possible that the messiness of the meta comes down to two writers at war? I have to imagine though, that they got along, or else they wouldn't have written together for four fucking years. If they didn't get along...? My mind always comes back to their first solo episodes, right after splitting up in season 8. Dabb's first solo episode is "Hunteri Heroici"—the only episode to lend any perspective to season 8 Sam's reasons for abandoning everyone—paralleling him checking out with Fred's catatonia, which Sam has to save Fred from. It is the only episode that lends Sam sympathy in the early part of the season. He follows it up with "Trial and Error"—where Sam promises to save Dean from suicidal thoughts. Loflin's first solo episode is what I would regard as the most scathing solo episode commentary on Sam in the entire series—"Citizen Fang". Then he writes again right after Dabb's "Trial and Error"—penning "Remember The Titans" where Sam tells Dean to get over the promise Sam so passionately made in Dabb's episode and face reality.

This is why we're exploring this rewatch.

DISCLAIMER: Now I just devolve into bitching because I'm writing at 3AM. Proceed at your own risk.

It seems like these days, everyone demands an explanation for disliking Dabb (something about some sort of destiel battle... I don't know what that flamewar is and I don't give a damn tbqh.) I guess I've just been wondering what's actually so great about him. Because it feels like people have overcorrected to basically acting like he's god's greatest gift to mankind. People point to how meta his episodes can be, but I think other writers easily best him on that front on multiple occasions (particularly enjoyed by me so far on this rewatch: 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream Of Me", 4.04 "Monster Movie", 4.12 "Criss Angel Is A Douchebag"), and without leaving their meaning so up in the air that you don't even know what the hell they were actually trying to tell you because there are two different completely incongruous narratives you could just as justifiably claim were the intended one. Some people may find that duality praise-worthy. I don't. I find it sloppy—and when I add in mediocre character work, I just land on the side of him being, at the very best, mid.

Add him in as showrunner, you have... at least two of my least favorite seasons (13 and 15). Add that he's a one-trick pony in terms of the Sam and Dean conflicts mentioned above that he continuously rehashes rather than come up with anything new or fresh, and the same conflicts between Dean and Cas being played out until they both die (shut UP I'm not talking about canon destiel as the alternative—I am literally just asking for more diverse conflicts). I can't say I understand what I''m supposed to find so impressive.

(Before anyone so much as breathes this near me, Berens also sucks and I am going to tear off your nose hairs if you start bringing him up as if disliking Dabb for some reason means wearing rose colored glasses about Berens. Berens can eat a whole cactus raw over "The Trap" alone.)

#writer disk horse #dabb disk horse #mail

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