#and i think that if i didn’t have any parenting experience i would also handle things a lot like how phil does
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ok not to be like he’s just like me fr…. but chayanne is just like me fr…..
i’m also the oldest child with one younger sibling who needed a lot more care when we were kids and therefore was deprived of certain needs in favor of my brother. i also had a parent that was missing a lot and depended almost solely on my dad. obviously tallulah needs more help than chay, with her asthma and lesser fighting skills, not to mention she had only been playing minecraft for like a month? or two before wilbur found her. and chay knows that! he knows that she needs more help than he does he knows he’ll do anything for her he knows he has to be the strongest to protect her. my brother and i are only a year apart but i was forced to grow up very very quickly bc i was on my own a lot as a kid while my brother was sick. phil doesn’t worry abt chay when he runs off bc he doesn’t need to, chay can take care of himself. hell, he took care of all the eggs when they first left. but at the same time, it’s comforting to know ur parent is looking out for u even when u don’t need it. phil’s not a smothering parent, he’s attentive, but not smothering. but let’s be real he can also be emotionally constipated LMAO but that leads to situations like the argument and frustration between chay and tallulah when dapper was kidnapped. in his defense, he’s never been a parent before and had 2 children thrust upon him to raise on his own. he didn’t have a lot of time to adjust to parenthood like ppl in real life do, he suddenly had 2 children who had their own thoughts and opinions and emotional needs, he didn’t get the time it takes to LEARN abt how to provide that specific care and while some ppl have that innate knowledge there is a lot of learning and navigating when it comes to emotional vulnerability and regulation esp when it comes to children who are figuring it out as well. i feel for chay when he thinks he needs to be the strongest. i feel for chay when he had to make the decision to gather the eggs and leave. i feel for chay when he had to take blame for bad things happening. and i feel for chay when he realized tallulah doesn’t need him as much anymore. my brother and i are both adults now and we had a …… tumultuous relationship as teenagers for reasons that were both our own and caused by problems outside our control. but i still remember exactly how devastating it was the moment i realized that he was fine on his own. that he didn’t need me anymore. and it caused a rift between us; on my end bc i was frustrated and felt tossed aside and on his end bc he NEEDED to be independent to keep growing. i see so much of myself in chay and i desperately wish he and tallulah had a better mediator for their argument, or at least someone who could truly understand why they were so upset. i don’t think phil clocked that tallulah was so upset and adamant abt looking for dapper bc it was just her dapper and ramon surviving on their own. just bc phil didn’t witness it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen and it doesn’t mean that they don’t have a much tighter relationship than they had before purgatory. and when chayanne said everyone was blaming him for the decisions he made phil was quick to tell him that no one was blaming him but also phil doesn’t know that! he doesn’t know if any blame was put on chayanne when it was just the eggs together. chayanne made the decision for the eggs to run and they trusted him bc he’s the oldest and he’s strong and he can be a leader but by running he also put the eggs thru a lot of pain and fear that they may not have gone thru if they stayed with their parents. and even if the eggs didn’t explicitly say that they blamed chayanne im sure he blamed himself for every little thing that went wrong. we’ve already seen him open up a tiny bit abt how he was questioning his decision to leave. but phil told him that chay made the best decision he could have given the information he had at the time which is true! but when ur the oldest and everyone is looking to u, all of the responsibility lies on ur shoulders. chayanne has been carrying SO much weight on his shoulders for so long it breaks my heart.
#lex.txt#qsmp chayanne#qsmp tallulah#qsmp#i have so much more i could say abt chayanne tallulah and their relationship but unfortunately ! i am not allowed to write more than this#please excuse my rambling run on sentences and lack of proper punctuation#i type the way i speak in my head and usually that means no pauses no breaks everything flows like word vomit i apologize if things#don’t make sense#i think if this was happening when i was younger i wouldn’t have all these feelings but like#my brother has a toddler that i’ve been helping raise since he was born#that is MY baby i spend the most time with him he’s the closest to me out of anyone#and i think that if i didn’t have any parenting experience i would also handle things a lot like how phil does#i think the several years of therapy have also helped with my parenting LOL#anyways i wrote this a while back and it’s been sitting in my drafts#chay is so sacrificial and i think a lot of it comes from phil putting pressure on him to be strong#he literally said he should’ve been the one to die instead of empanada!!!!! he thinks the eye attacks are his fault#i just wish he could be a kid and do the things he wants to do without worrying that he or his siblings will die#poor sweet boy :( he shouldn’t be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders but he doesn’t think he has the option not to
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outlaw!toji who initially kidnapped you for money, to rob you from your valuable belongings, eventually forms a strange attachment to you. he can’t help but feel a faint twinge of guilt for robbing a pretty and delicate little thing like you.
so, he decides to let you return to your beloved family in town. though he does not let you go completely.
every now and then when toji is passing by the town you reside in - avoiding sheriffs and other people whom could possibly recognise him from the wanted posters plastered on every wall - he looks for you.
of course, you freak out the first time he sneaked up on you. however slowly yet surely, you let your guard down. the outlaw didn’t harm you in any way after all.
“how ‘re ya doin’, princess?” toji would always greet you with that signature, cocky smirk of his, leaning against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chiseled chest or his hands on his worn gun belt.
sometimes you reply quickly, but on other occasions you indulge him and continue the conversation. it’s often at night that he visits you, so you have less of a chance to get caught together.
you don’t know when or how toji found out where your family’s house is. he simply started showing up at your balcony once in a while, just to catch up. after a couple times, you even let him in.
those nightly visits swiftly turned into something more intimate. it feels so wrong yet so right. a dangerous criminal who’s killed hundreds, who had even kidnapped you one day, being invited into your bed— how scandalous.
though you can’t help it. his callused yet warm hands that touch your skin, his burly body that presses you into the mattress just right, his slightly chapped lips that nip at your flesh and leave marks. . . you don’t regret a thing.
especially when you’re both catching your breath after an intense encounter. toji’s muscular body, filled with countless of scars, blankets yours easily. his arms cradle you to his bare chest afterwards and all you can do is relax against him.
“i think i really hit the jackpot with ya, aye? may not have robbed ya of yer stuff that day, but i got ma prize money one way or ‘nother,” the rugged outlaw grins as he lights up a cigar and holds it between his lips.
you can’t even tell him off for smoking in your room. toji’s fingers massage your scalp so good to the point you’re putty in his hands. the scent of tobacco is also comforting. it’s one you associate with him, because he always smells like it. it’s always a combination of tobacco, nature, horses and gunpowder.
toji knows that he has to leave before anyone comes checking in on you, but he can’t leave you when you look so adorable, clinging onto him like a lifeline.
every time he visits, it’s the same exciting story.
when toji is in a more sentimental mood, he takes you out on a ride. he settles you on the back of his horse, speeding off into the sunset, letting you enjoy the view outside of town.
the beautiful freedom that comes with the life of an outlaw. the freedom of seeing nature in all its glory. you get to experience it all.
at times, when you’re out and about, he takes his chance and teaches you how to handle a gun. toji knows you’ve been spoiled rotten by your parents growing up, so you probably haven’t touched a gun a day in your life. that’s where he comes in.
“oi, watch out. yer gonna blow my fuckin’ face off, girl,” toji grunts with a faint chuckle as he notices your clumsy hand gestures while holding his revolver. it’s endearing, truly. he doesn’t yet understand why it warms his heart to see you try and shoot at the targets he set up.
what the outlaw loves more than that, is when you’re both resting against a large oak tree, with his head on your lap. especially after he gets back from a long and successful heist in a far away town.
toji often lets his cowboy hat cover his face while he naps and uses your thighs as the perfect, plush pillow. the gentle breeze only adds to the perfect moment.
when you take his stetson and put it on your head instead in a innocent gesture, he lazily opens one eye and raises a brow in amusement.
“oh? that yer way of telling me y’ want a ride?” toji teases before pinching your cheek. he loves seeing that flustered expression on your face when you’re once again reminded of the cowboy hat rule he taught you the other day.
toji never misses the opportunity, however. he sits up and leans back against the tree trunk, patting his thick thighs which he spreads lightly.
“hop on f’ me then, pretty. show me how good of a cowgirl y’ are, yeah?”
well, briefly said, it’s never a dull moment with outlaw!toji.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#toji x you#jjk x y/n#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x female reader#jjk fanfic#toji smut#toji fanfic#jjk fic#toji x female reader#female reader
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heyyyy ryyyyy <333
since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?
obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this
hope you have a great day bb
Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.
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You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that.
Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama.
When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you.
It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.
You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.
While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were.
Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death.
Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow.
The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone.
Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed.
“Nightmare?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders.
“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back.
The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.
Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger.
When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections.
Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there.
6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him.
“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.
“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.
“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.
“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating.
“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.”
A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.
Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would.
It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself.
Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once.
So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.
“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”
“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.
“Who do you think I am?”
“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited.
“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting.
“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!”
“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”
“Maybe..”
“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”
So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores.
Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving.
Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.
Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird.
One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was.
When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.
When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind.
When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning.
So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.
“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.
Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it.
When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped.
You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.
While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last.
“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”
Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe.
The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you.
Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to.
So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough.
When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence.
Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.
When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.
Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear.
“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”
That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that.
Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.
She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky.
What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you.
When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.”
Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”
And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were.
Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.
So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it.
War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.
“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable.
“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.
Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.
Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.
Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.
Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left.
Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.
Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.
Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had.
He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.
Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.
He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.
Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother.
He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too.
Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her.
He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size.
Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much.
“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”
Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.
#dc#jason todd#dick grayson#tim drake#fem reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne x reader#Damian wayne#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#barbara gordon#batfamily x reader#batmom reader#batmom#request#cipheress-to-k-pop
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Guilty Pleasure (3/7) - dbf!Joel x reader
Sunday dinner with your parents and Joel is... weird. But also hot.
Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 42), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy' (no real daddy kink), outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 1.7K A/N: I told you part III would follow soon! I had initially planned this for tomorrow, but then I figured I might as well turn dinner with da-- I mean, dinner into a Sunday meal, because why not. 😈 Thank you so much to everybody who has been commenting, reblogging (I appreciate you sharing it with others!!) and liking this fic so far! Things get messy today... let me know what you think. Is reader playing this right, or...?
< part 2 | series masterlist | main masterlist
Surprisingly, it's Joel who is late for Sunday dinner.
Not your father; he’s home early even, looking tired and stressed but trying to put on a front - which is far from the first time you’ve seen him do so. When you were younger, you once asked your mom why he never was more upfront about having hard days. Since he frequently appeared on tv to talk about new ventures or collaborations, you knew that his work wasn’t exactly easy breezy, but whenever you had asked him about it as a kid, he would brush off those concerns. “Somebody’s gotta do it,” or “I’ve got the experience to pull it off”, or any corny variation of that.
You used to love joining him at his office, something you got away with when you were still in primary school - which you realized later probably had to do with the sizable annual donations your father made to your school. Either way, it was exciting. The massive building where he worked, the technology, all those people looking extremely important in their outfits, swiping access cards in order to get into secure areas, so many meeting rooms, and not to forget the press room. You were in awe, determined to work there when you’d grow up, to follow in your father’s footsteps.
Until things came crashing down.
The missed plays, PTA meetings, and staying up late weren’t so bad initially. What started bothering you the most was how everybody seemed to give him a pass. Most of all your grandmother. She spoke about how your grandfather used to be in charge, many years before your father took over, and how good he was. How your father was so much like him. Responsible, in charge, a leader, ‘such a good man’.
And see - that was the problem. Because no matter how well you did at school or with the things you loved to do, it always felt like you were merely in his shadow. You’d never be respected the way he is - because you weren’t like him, or them, which everybody seemed to expect.
So you decided to not care. Absolutely zero fucks. You didn’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. You were going to do whatever you wanted to do.
This summer, that meant doing Joel. A lot, preferably.
Joel, sitting at the table with you and your parents, looking all broad in his green flannel, almost having missed dinner this evening - which of course you would’ve gotten shit for if it had happened to you. “Issues at the construction site, damn Tommy couldn’t handle it on his own,” he grouses as your dad puts a beer in his hand, while your mom assures him it is no problem.
Aside from Joel being so damn distracting with his presence, it’s weird to all be seated at the dinner table on a Sunday. It’s not just that this hadn’t happened since you moved home for the summer; it actually was something that hadn’t happened in many years. While your father is talking to Joel about his work day, you get up and wander over to the fridge to grab a beer, grateful for the hoppy refreshment as it hits your taste buds. Liquor would be better, but this will do for now. You watch your parents and Joel talk, not even being aware of you having stepped away from the table. You finish the rest of the beer and put the empty bottle aside, then grab a new one from the fridge to take back to the table.
The drink helps you feel a little more comfortable in your own skin, tune out the chatter that you’re not too interested in, and rather take advantage of the opportunity to watch Joel. Perhaps his mouth and hands in particular, as you imagine them on you, feeling that stubble against your own decidedly softer skin; your cheek, or between your thighs, or elsewhere. He doesn’t seem too aware of your eyes on him, talking with your mom about some pergola or something.
Meanwhile, your father does seem to be paying attention to you, which almost catches you by surprise. But unsurprisingly it takes just a couple of moments until he’s irritating you again. “Were you able to stop by at the DMV to get your license sorted out?”
“No, I haven’t. I’ll get it done, just let it go - okay?,” you sigh, annoyed that he’s bringing it up for the fourth time in a few weeks. “A rideshare to the nearest one is just so expensive. If I could just use mom’s car…”
Your mom pauses her conversation with Joel as she shakes her head. “Without a license? I don’t think so,” she says resolutely. “You’d better figure it out, because I don’t have any time soon to take you over there.”
“Now there’s a shocker,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head when your father’s voice cuts sharp as he asks if there’s a problem. “No, there’s no problem. I’ll take the damn Uber, if I can….”
“I can take you. Tomorrow afternoon.” Joel’s voice barely interrupts you as he doesn’t lift his eyes from his plate, spearing a little cherry tomato with his fork. “Will that make you stop whining? Need to stop at Home Depot after, though.”
The comment thrills you unexpectedly, though that is tempered a lot by the grin you see on your father’s face, no doubt because of the whining comment Joel made. Asshole. “Can’t make any promises,” you respond breezily. “I’m good company in the car though, as long as I control the aux.”
Joel almost snorts at that, shaking his head. “Over my dead body, kiddo.”
*Kiddo*. It stings, you realize, as you hold on tight to your second beer that’s already half empty, your fingers pressing too hard on the chilly glass. You thought that you two had moved past that now - that being around him, and admittedly dropping some not so subtle cues, would have made it clear to him that you are anything but a kid.
“Well, you’re getting up there in age just like he is,” you say much too casually, leaning back in your chair as you take a long drink of your beer while you nod at your father. “So maybe that won’t be that long from now?”
Your mom hisses your name immediately, looking mortified, but Joel isn’t bothered one bit as he continues to eat his dinner. Meanwhile your dad remains quiet, but the look on his face speaks volumes. You give him a challenging look in return, then finish your beer as you get up from the table again. “Who else wants another drink?”
“I think you’ve had enough for now.” Your father speaks as he takes off his glasses, rubbing his temple as if he feels a headache coming on. “Just finish your food.” You consider ignoring his comment or pushing back some more, but then you get momentarily distracted as the kitchen lights seem to flicker.
“I’m headed out tomorrow at 10 am,” Joel suddenly interrupts your thoughts, now finally looking at you as he reaches for his glass of water. “Don’t be late.”
“For you? Never.” You manage to not bat your lashes as you sit back down and continue your dinner, but your dad is still looking not too amused. He’s easy to ignore though, and as you chew you listen with half an ear to what your mom is saying about some party. It’s not long before your eyes wander back to Joel again, wondering what you could say or do that actually would get under his skin.
He’s sitting right across from you, and without thinking too much about it, you slip your right foot out of your sandal, slouching down a little in your chair. Your heart is racing as you try to calculate the odds of getting it right, but then in an opportune moment when your dad leans over to Joel to talk to him about something, you extend your leg under the table and check whether you can reach Joel’s leg with your bare foot.
When Joel pauses his conversation for a moment, seemingly to gather his words, you know that he most definitely feels your foot against his calf. His eyes flash to you for a quick second, and you innocently smile at him as you slowly run your foot up a little higher, to his knee, while considering how far you could slide it against his thigh without it being noticeable to anyone else.
Meanwhile your dad reaches for the bread basket between him and Joel, taking out a dinner roll, and your heart beats faster when you feel Joel’s leg twitch against your foot. “Could I have the bread basket, please?”, you ask your dad, who nods as he picks it up and hands it to you.
You take the basket from him, picking one of the rolls - and as your dad looks over at your mom who is telling him something, you bring your glance back to Joel. He’s staring right at you now as you’re still rubbing your foot against the inside of his calf, and you see his throat work as he swallows.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Joel immediately flushes and clears his throat, shifting his chair back a little so your foot can���t reach him anymore, and he reaches for his water so fast that he almost knocks the glass over. You can’t help but giggle, sinking your teeth into the soft bread as you’re feeling pleased - so the man *does* have a weak spot. It just takes the right approach to hit it.
“Think I’m gonna go clean up from work,” he announces as he pushes his nearly empty plate back, giving your mom an apologetic look. “Been a long day. The food was so good, though.”
“The food’s wonderful.” Your dad nods in agreement as he takes the last bite of his bread. “Did you still want to hit up the gym?”, he asks Joel as he reaches for their plates as he gets up from the table. “I’ve got about an hour now before I need to head out again.”
You dig your nails deep into the palm of your hand under the table as you watch the men leave the room, your eyes following Joel’s every step. Fuck, he’s hard. Or at least has a semi in those jeans. It makes you feel giddy and accomplished, and you can’t wait to tell your friend about this latest development.
next: part 4 >
series masterlist | main masterlist
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#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#dbf!joel#tlou au#joel miller fanfiction
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Another thing that I like about the Silco and Jinx dynamic as I see it in s1 is how we see how Powder in act I was already very troubled but despite that it didn’t show much. Sure she sulked and messed stuff up but Vander seemed like he was not interacting with Powder enough to know anything bad was going on inside her head or that it even was a problem that she messed stuff up, like he’s never told it was specifically Powder who lost the loot or that it caused issues within the group, Vi handles the matter completely on her own. Vi seemed oblivious to the possibility of Powder having a meltdown, Mylo clearly doesn’t think his complaining does any damage to her mind or he'd stop/tone it down, if Claggor thought it was that bad you’d think he’d protect Powder more too. We get all these close-ups to her face and some quiet moments like when she separates from the group in the apartment or when she’s cornered at the docks or when she eavesdrops on Mylo and Vi and of course when she has her meltdown. We the audience have a way better understanding of just in how much distress she is non-stop and how isolated and helpless she is and how everything scares/hurts her. Just like it often is the case with ppl who are struggling, bcos most times she’s shy and polite and so ppl around her are unaware of how bad it is.
And then Silco’s treatment of her, spoiling her, lack of discipline or boundaries or consequences etc. in the long run exacerbated certain issues but I’d argue that it primarily just created an environment where she’s showing her issues way more than she did beforehand. Before there was an attempt to fit into society/her environment and act properly, like a normal person. Living with Silco, neither of these matter cos they don’t matter to him, he himself is an evil weirdo who doesn’t care if ppl like him. Combine the understanding/safe space with a new parent who encourages self-isolation/self-acceptance to the point of embracing your bad traits/maladaptive coping mechanisms and with her own overwhelming experiences and it’s not hard to imagine her early on while living with Silco simply changing her attitude and self-expression to be more honest and open and unapologetic to how she acted before. years later resulting in her outwardly exhibiting unhinged behaviors and even intentionally playing into her ‘crazy’ reputation for strength/advantage when before she was hiding/suppressing her issues.
It's heart-warming that she feels safe and understood with Silco and trusts him more than anyone else and is more confident than before. However her displaying her issues more than ever only to be enabled no matter how bad it gets would of course only result in the further deterioration of her behavioral/social issues. But it’s also not like Silco has the external means (psychiatrists on runeterra) or internal means (healthy mind, knowledge of mental illnesses) to actually do anything about her issues anyway. just like Vi/Vander didn’t have the means to help her in any way, they could never 1)figure out what’s wrong and 2)be able to fix it.
#in case anyone wants to argue this is a s2 denialism post#don’t come at me with ‘this happened in s2’#what s2?#arcane#jinx#silco#my:arcane#silco and jinx#jinx and silco
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Power Couple
CHAPTER 12 - Revelations I am incorporating my headcanon for the Aether Core connection. It’s NOT lore accurate - as far as we know.
You’ve been staying at the house on the hill for the past few days. You and Sylus have indulged in every fantasy you can think of. You’ve recreated your dream of being eaten out on the dining room table. Recreated his dream of throat fucking you by the pool. You secretly pray the chef never finds out Sylus bent you over the kitchen counter, the sink, the stove, the fridge… Basically his entire workspace.
You both handled work from home, opting to join conference calls from the pool or private office. You were careful not to discuss confidential information when Sylus was around. You knew if Dorian found out you were talking shop with Sylus in the room he would never forgive you.
When you weren’t tongue deep in each other, you and Sylus talked about the bond you seem to share. He explained the situation at the gallery and Chen’s possible “client.” He also explains the Aether Core. He had an Aether protocore fragment implanted into his eye when he was young. He had no say in the matter and no parents to fight for him.
“The connection we share, the Aether fragment, you have one too.” He places a hand over your heart. You feel that similar warmth.
“I don’t remember...” You cover his hand with your own. He wraps his other hand around your waist. The warm water in the tub has cooled, but you don’t want to get out, not yet. You feel his breath on your neck, his body firm against your back. Sitting between his legs as he presses kisses to your shoulders and neck as he explains.
“Do you want to know?” You lean your head back on his chest.
“Maybe? Yes… Tell me.”
Sylus takes a deep breath. You can tell this story will be hard for him to tell. You pull his hand from your chest and interlace your fingers with his. Giving his hand a squeeze, he sighs.
“We were in the same laboratory. My surgery was experimental. No one expected me to survive. So when I did, they didn’t waste any time putting your fragment in. Our rooms were next to each other. The walls were thin, so we’d sit and talk for hours. Well, when they weren’t running tests or experiments on one of us. We grew up together. We kept each other sane all those years. If you came back from tests crying, I’d sing to you. You’d be laughing in no time. And… if I woke up from a nightmare, you’d read to me until I fell asleep.”
Sylus tightened his grip around you. You could feel his heartbeat quickening against your back. You rub small circles on his arm, his grip loosening slightly.
“On your 18th birthday, I... aha, 'gently convinced' a nurse to let me into your room. It was the first time we were truly alone. No nurses hovering or doctors forcing us to practice controlling our Aether energy by resonating. Or…” His voice trailed off. Your heart broke listening to him.
“Did you make me a cake?” You heard him let out a breathy laugh.
“Sort of. I could finally pick up things with my energy so… I stole cookies out of the vending machine down the hall. Couldn’t steal a candle though, but you still made a wish. You wished we could be free. And I made you a promise, that I would find a way for you to be free. I don’t remember much else from that night. Besides just holding you. And trying to figure a way out.”
“And did you?”
You finally turn slightly to look at him. He avoids your gaze. You lift his chin so his eyes meet yours. And your heart nearly stopped when you saw his red eyes were glazed over, tears threatening to spill out.
“I did.”
The rest of this story can be told later, you were desperate to see him smile again. You quickly change the direction of the conversation.
“What happens if we find another Aether core or fragment? How does that help us?”
He presses your back lightly urging you to stand. He wraps his arm around you, helping you out of the bathtub. He takes a towel and starts drying you off gently. You raise your arms and turn in a circle for him, he chuckles. When you face him his smile has returned.
“Well, it might strengthen our connection. Stabilize it. May change our evol or strengthen it.” You grab the new towel off the rack and he holds onto your hips as you dry him off.
“So was the protocore at the auction…”
“It was a decoy. I have people testing it now. It was strange, the energy it gave off... It drained me. If it hadn’t been broken, I don’t like to think about what could have happened.” He leans in and starts placing kisses to your neck, you’ve stopped trying to dry him at this point leaning into his kisses.
“So we keep searching. We’re in this together, okay?” He cups your face in his hands.
“Okay.”
He takes the towel from your hands and tosses it on the counter. His hands slowly reach around you to grab your ass, he pulls you to him, his erection pressing against your stomach.
“Don’t you have a meeting in an hour?” Your voice is gruff as his hands squeeze.
“That’s more than enough time to fuck you senseless.” You let your head tip backwards, his lips pressing against your jaw. Your arms wrap around his neck.
“Promises. Promises.”
He laughs, moving swiftly to pick you up and place you on the bathroom counter. He captures your lips with his. He presses your shoulders back to the mirror, you shift your ass forward and relax into the position. He pulls away from your lips bringing them down your neck, to your collarbone and over your breasts. He places a gentle kiss to your nipple before he takes the bud between his teeth, biting lightly. You grab onto the back of his neck.
“Sy!”
You feel him smile against your skin before his lips continue down your body. He kneels with his head between your thighs. He drapes your legs over his shoulders and looks up at you with the slyest of grins. You’re about to give him an earful, but he sinks his face into you. His tongue pressing directly into your pussy with no hesitation, his nose pressed against your clit. Your eyes roll back and you gasp.
He speeds up his movements, rubbing his nose against your clit faster and faster. His tongue thrusts and swirls inside you, savoring every ounce of your arousal. He wastes no time, he has a meeting to get to after all.
Ding Ding
Sylus’s phone chimes on the other side of the room where your discarded clothes are. Sylus swears under his breath before rising to his feet, his chin and nose coated in your wetness. You let out a small whimper.
“I’m sorry kitten, there’s an emergency apparently.” He strides over to his jacket. And as frustrated as you are, you enjoy this view of his ass. Sylus retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket.
“What?” His voice is cold.
The need for friction between your legs is nearly impossible to ignore. So, you decide not to ignore it. Your fingers find your clit and you start to trace circles, being more rough than usual, you stare at Sylus letting your desires fuel the speed. You moan quietly, but Sylus still hears you. He turns and looks at you, eyes wide as he realizes what you’re doing.
“No no, I’m still here. Did he say why he wants to attend?” His voice is strained. Keeping it professional while watching you play with yourself is proving to be very challenging.
You spread yourself open as your middle finger glides over your opening. Your long strokes gather your arousal. You finally push your finger into your pussy, feeling how wet you are pushes you to move your fingers faster against your clit. Your breathing is erratic and your legs twitch slightly, but your eyes are locked on Sylus. And from the look on his face, he looks as if he’s about to cum from just watching you. You slide another finger inside and a deep growl escapes your throat.
“I’m on my way.” Sylus says and hangs up quickly, dropping his phone on the clothes pile.
He crosses the bathroom in a blink and places his hand over yours, putting more pressure against your clit. He buries his face into your neck and nibbles at the soft skin under your jaw. Stars cross your vision as you near your release.
“Sy… I need to cum…”
Sylus pulls your hand away and reaches down to place his leaking tip at your entrance. He rubs himself against your clit.
“Say please.” Sylus whispers. His hand reaches up to wrap around your neck. As his grip tightens and your breath hitches, you wrap your legs around him.
“You’re the worst…” You mutter between gasps. Sylus pulls back and tries to move away from you. You throw your arms around him and dig your nails into his back.
“No no no… please please Sy… please…” Your words rushed and desperate.
Sylus smirks before pushing into you, hard. Pleasure mixes with pain, as he starts to thrust into you rapidly. Your head presses back into the mirror and Sylus grunts at every thrust, feeling his hips slam against yours, a symphony of wet slaps fill the space around you.
Ding ding
Sylus’ phone chimes again. Frustrated moans leave both you and Sylus’ mouth. Sylus’ pace never falters. He tucks his hands under your knees and pulls them upwards, placing your feet flat on the counter. He wraps his forearms around your thighs, using them as anchors. With your legs pushed closer to you, Sylus is able to dive deeper. Slamming against your deepest sweet spots.
“Fuck-in he-hell…” Sylus mutters against your chest.
Ding
Now it’s your phone ringing. Your fingernails dig into Sylus forearms, forcing Sylus to pull back and you pull him into a kiss, trapping him against you. His pace becomes more erratic and you feel every twitch of his cock as he unloads into you. Your release is not far behind, you break away from him and scream his name. Sylus holds onto your thighs, rocking your forward, working both of you through the peak of your joined climaxes.
Ding
Your phone rings again. Sylus finally pulls out, he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“I’ve got to get to this meeting, jackass arrived early and brought a special guest. I’ll bring back dinner, okay?” You nod and kiss him before he leaves to get dressed.
You hop off the counter and shuffle to your clothes to grab your phone. You place a towel on the vanity chair before sitting down. You finally open your messages.
(Dorian) Call me. (Dorian) It’s urgent.
You press the call button and it rings only one time before Dorian picks up.
“You need to come to the office.” Dorian’s voice is cold and bitter.
“What’s going on?” You try to mentally prepare for Dorian’s latest tirade.
“Sylus has been lying to you.” You roll your eyes.
“Dorian, you’ve been suspicious since-” Dorian cuts you off.
“Onychinus is behind Ridgeway Liquors burning down.”
“What?”
“Sylus is Oni.”
Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human
When your slow burn story is too slow burn, so you do 2 spicy chapters back to back... maybe 3... Smile.
#love and deepspace#sylus (love and deepspace)#lads sylus#lnds sylus#angst and fluff#love and deepspace sylus#alternate universe#slow burn#minor violence#eventual smut#sylus smut#sylus x reader#l&ds sylus#sylus x mc#sylus#sylus lads#sylus x y/n#sylus x you#mafia trope#qin che#sylus qin
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there are so many things in veilguard that have made me go "wait what??? okay i guess i have to totally rethink the character i'm roleplaying now" that it's literally impossible to guess what thing you're referring to as The Thing That Happened. obviously extremely curious to hear what it is once you've detangled it
it’s kind of like that but it’s also less that and more... okay i should probably just say it, i’m being weird and unhelpful and i need to write it out anyway so i can think
MASSIVE SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT for a companion quest, do NOT say i didn’t warn you. also please don’t respond to this if you know more than me i am in distress but i still don’t want spoilers
so i just finished lucanis’ “a murder of crows” quest. and lucanis. first talon. for some reason. (this is the writing choice i’m ??? on. also i’m ??? on lucanis’ whole storyline, frankly. the writing was. well. like i said, we’re not unpicking that right now, i don’t want to get into it at this point, not the conversation i’m having.)
lifelong trauma of being in the crows and fighting to get someone in a talon’s position and keep them there -> the thing that gave sol all their diseases and made them, to be frank, fairly suicidal
viago: ultimately can handle it without them, especially with teia’s backing.
lucanis: CANNOT handle it without them. holy fuck. for like twelve hundred different reasons, unthinkable, completely laughable, that he can handle this. who is going to protect him. the only reason this could be better at keeping sol mentally stable than watching viago’s back is that they will never feel purposeless or need to go looking for an adrenaline rush, because forget crows, an ambitious blackbird could eat that man alive. he can’t scheme. he can’t even SCHEME and the very fact that he trusts sol DE RIVA demonstrates this. sol is a crow! from another house! does he have no memory at all of the fact that his own parents died in crow infighting? sol could have been playing him this whole time, it wouldn’t have even been hard, and if they were that kind of person, then right now the first talon’s house would have just fallen directly in their hands like a gift from the maker, and they can’t even say a part of themself they can’t shut off isn’t thinking about it that way! how is sol supposed to keep someone like that alive?
you see what it’s like trying to sleep while sol is having this discussion in my mind.
ahem. anyway. pathways for sol’s life assuming they indeed make it through the game:
becoming lucanis’ guard dog the way they were for viago, which (even if they could mentally handle that, which they can’t. or can they??) means switching house loyalties which would surely destroy them eventually -> bad
somehow trying to persuade lucanis to give this up, as if that wouldn’t be throwing house dellamorte completely to the dogs, which at least sol can’t imagine any crow is capable of, let alone someone so dedicated to clinging to what remains of his family that he couldn’t even kill a traitor -> bad
going ahead and leaving the crows, but sol now has to leave BOTH viago and lucanis behind and also lucanis is going to die in there because they left him to do this alone -> bad
solution: sol is back on their original “if a blighted dragon eats me by the end of this, i don’t have to experience consequences” train
and maybe they’re right and i should not worry about this because i’m painfully aware it’s VERY bold to start deciding what happens after the game at this point, when they might still get trapped in the fade or turned into paste or something. and admittedly they did know and dread the possibilities from the first moment they felt something for lucanis, which was why they so wanted it to be anyone else, because anyone else in that lighthouse could have given them a different world, and he is the one who regardless of his best or worst intentions can only tie them tighter to a burning building. and SURE, i see the solas/mythal breakup parallels of sol still leaving, i’m looking at them, that doesn’t mean i have to LIKE them
he hasn’t even kissed them. they’re doing all of this unkissed. lucanis dellamorte when i get you
again please absolutely do not respond to any of this with even the vaguest of hints if you know more about the rest of the game than me 🙏 it’s probably best if no-one responds to this at all lmao i am just thinking out loud. you can reply with a “that’s rough buddy”. for sol
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Fake it till you make it | Part 11
“Be careful, Eddie” were Wayne’s words as he hugged his nephew goodbye, knowing he wouldn’t see him for a whole week and honestly still being a little worried about it “if you think even for one minute that something’s off, just… just get out of there, alright?”
“I know, I know, I’ll bolt through the woods and hitchhike my way home, I know the way, Wayne, I got this.” He could read a compass, he’d be able to get a map from any gas station and head home, he was resourceful, an adult, he could handle himself.
“Damn right you got this, son. But… be careful in other ways too, alright? Steve’s a charmin boy, but… remember this ain’t real.” Eddie had bitten his bottom lip at that one, brows furrowed in thought, those big brown eyes of his swirling in emotion, he never did hide his feelings well, it’d always be a little real for him. “Protect this” Wayne poked his chest with a gentle prod, right over Eddie’s heart “okay?”
“Mhm, I will…” he’d try to anyway. Steve really was… charming. An his kisses? God his kisses… but also... it really was the closest he’d ever been to what romance ought to be, what a relationship ought to be, he never thought he’d have that.
The world didn’t appear to be moving fast enough for him to truly experience romance as most people did.
He had to remember that he didn’t have that.
“Eddie! C’mon you’re in the back with me!” Steve called from the garage door, behind which the car was rumbling, their bags packed into the back, Steve’s parents already inside, ready to go. The longest Eddie had ever been away from Wayne since arriving in Hawkins, was three days during a weekend trip to Indy with the band to play at a slightly bigger venue than the Hideout as a one off.
A favour for his favourite gay bar when a live act they’d scheduled pulled out last minute. It hadn’t gotten them a lot of exposure, but it’d been a fun and enlightening night for the band.
“Best get on, son, I’ll see you in a week. Call when you can alright? Don’t care if you wake me up or about no damn time zones, just call, I’ll answer, an if I don’t, you know the plant’s number.” Tight lipped, strained smile, Eddie nodded quickly then turned on his heel and graced Steve with a brilliant smile, game on.
“I don’t wish to alarm anyone, but... did we miss a turning?” Eddie may have been unusually quiet for the first leg of their journey, nerves having hit him like a truck the second they pulled out of Loch Nora, but he was paying attention to his surroundings.
And those surroundings, were all too quickly, Fort Wayne International Airport.
“You don’t honestly expect rich people to drive the whole way to Canada do you?” Steve’s voice was amused and came from so very close to his ear that he actually jumped, quickly turning in his seat, back plastered against his side of the back seat, eyes wide as he took in and processed what Steve said. “Plus, what would you rather do, spend nearly two days in a car with my parents—”
“We’d make wonderful road trip companions, don’t be rude Steven” came his mother’s interruption
Steve ignored it in favour of continuing his point “—orr… around ten hours in one of those with a brief stop off in Chicago.” Steve leaned inward, uncaring of personal space as he pointed to a plane, ascending into the heavens from the runway.
“I don’t—” he didn’t know. He’d never been on a plane before. Trips like that, across country, they were the stuff of road trip legend, but Steve had a point…
Two whole days of a trip stuck in a car. Or just ten hours. Eddie’s eyes skipped to the window again, to the plane now disappearing beyond the overcast cloud cover.
“It’ll be okay, Eds, I’ll sit right next to you the whole time, you’ll be okay.”
“What if we crash? What if it falls out of the sky? What’ll you do?”
“My best to keep you safe.” It was so earnest, coupled with Steve gently taking his hands and giving them a squeeze, eyes so full of raw honesty, of understanding, it hit Eddie directly in all his soft gooey bits. “I’ll hold your hand through the whole ten hours if you want.”
“Even during the stop in Chicago?”
“Hah, yeah baby, even during the stop in Chicago.”
“They’re a lot more openminded in Chicago too!” Lynda spoke up without turning her head, allowing Eddie to not get stuck on baby for too long “might get a few looks from people passing through the airport but nobody will say anything, and if they do, they deal with us.”
“If we had enough time during the stop we’d have taken a trip around the city, let you boys see some of the sights we’ve seen, but alas, our connection gives us an hour at most depending on everything being on time, and that’s just enough time to get us from one gate to the next.” John added as he pulled into the long stay parking lot. “Maybe some other time, some other family trip, eh Eddie?”
Eddie’s wide eyes turned to the front of the car, then back to Steve again, lips parted ever so slightly in surprise. Not surprise over the words used, but the feeling those words caused. Family trip. They were including him on future family trips.
Steve’s eyes quickly snapped from him to the front of the car and back again, then a warm smile blossomed on his lips. He lifted his hand and ever so carefully brushed a stray curl back behind Eddie’s ear, and asked so softly as his thumb lowered to brush along his jawline. “Right, Eddie?”
“Y-yeah… yeah I’d… I’d love that.” He turned his head fully toward the drivers seat, he’d never been too good at hiding his emotions, so maybe he was just a little choked up when he accepted the offer “I’d really love that.”
“Great!” The car came to a stop in one of the many parking bays, ignition off, driver side door opened “It’s settled then.” Settled. Eddie would privately mourn the knowledge that it’d never come to fruition, but… on the surface he could pretend he was excited for a future trip for the sake of the ruse. “Now boys if you could get the bigger bags out the trunk that’d be a big help! This back of mine isn’t as sturdy as it used to be.”
“You’re forty-six and go jogging almost every morning, don’t be stupid John.” Lynda whapped her husband with her handbag in gentle, semi-amused admonishment before getting out of the car.
Followed by her husband who, in a hushed tone replied with “don’t tell them that, Lynda, save us the work.” Leaving the two boys to breathe soft laughs between themselves before they too joined the older couple out in the parking lot.
“Steve...” Eddie hissed as they neared check-in.
“What?”
“I have weed” said through his teeth.
“What?” Steve paused.
“I have weed… I have weed in my suitcase.”
“You have what?!” Steve rounded on him, sentence ended with a pointed hiss
“I didn’t know we’d be flying to Canada, Steve, maybe you should tell people when you’re planning on launching them into the troposphere in a death tube!”
“Why would you bring weed on a holiday with my parents, Eddie?!”
“SHHHH, be quiet. I thought I might need it to chill out if I was freaking out at some point during the week like right now, I could really do with it right now.”
“Oh my god.”
“Steven? Is something wrong?” Lynda’s voice had them both snapping to attention, eyes wide, caught in the act. Luckily she had no idea what that ‘act’ was.
“Nope! No, uh, Eddie’s just gotta… use the bathroom real quick.”
“Well, there’s bathrooms in the business class lounge he can—"
“No! It’s uhm, it’s urgent, can’t wait, he’s uh…”
“Nerves, it’s uh, it’s nerves, I think imma hurl” she looked between them with a small frown on her face, assessing them both, it seemed like whatever she found wasn’t worth arguing about though, because she waved them off with a quick flick of her wrist.
“Alright fine, hurry up. Steven you know where the closest ones are go on now quickly before we’re late for check in, we’ll double check everything here.” John was already pausing to check through all their documents like a regular airport dad, it was the third time he’d done it since entering the airport.
“Alright let’s go, Eds, lets deal with your little problem.” At least he was soft-handed when he manhandled Eddie to the nearest bathroom, patchy suitcase with a squeaky wheel wobbling away behind them. Once inside, he checked each stall individually, before quickly turning on a wide eyed Eddie. “Where is it?” Eddie pointed down at the suitcase, and Steve snapped to action, lifting, and placing Eddie’s suitcase down on the slightly damp row of sinks. “Did you pack any liquid soaps?”
“Uhhh…” Eddie was too busy staring at the flex of Steve’s arms as he just. Lifted that whole very packed suitcase in one hoist. Fuck.
“Any shampoo? Conditioner?”
“I—I feel like my answer is going to make you mad so I’m just not going to answer.” Which on its own, was a pretty damning answer, and Steve’s expression told him as such “I don’t have a twelve step hair care routine like you do, Steve! I just… I have drug store shampoo and conditioner and that’s really only when it’s on a two for one sale! Usually I just—"
“If you say you water it down to make it last longer I’m going to throw the first thing I find in this suitcase at you.”
“Shutting up. I just thought I’d buy it there if I needed it, or just borrow yours, I know you brought some, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, I figured that… if I borrowed yours it’d make it seem like I just… wanted… to smell like you?”
“You just made that up.” Eddie just smiled, all teeth and dimples, scrunching his shoulders inwards in an unfairly cute display of mischief. “You’re a menace, Munson. Get your stuff out of there for me. Don’t ever put weed in checked luggage.”
“But—”
“TSA does random checks on checked luggage all the time, an while they’re not usually looking for weed, it’ll get launched and you might get fined. Whereas you can hide weed in just about anything in a carry on, just shows up as vague blurred shit on the x-ray scanners. Just be cool when you shove it through.” Steve was rummaging in the front of his own bag now, “be cool, and act natural.”
“You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“Mn once or twice, Tommy was a dick, but his cousin worked for the TSA for a few years, gave us all kinds’a neat tricks to get things through the airport.” Tommy’s cousin had gotten fired and a year inside for attempting to smuggle narcotics out of the confiscated items lock up, but that was neither here nor there. “Gimmie what you have.” Hand outstretched, Steve waited until Eddie placed the single baggie containing three roll ups and a few loose buds “Christ Eddie.”
“I knew I’d be nervous! Stop being mean to me!” Steve rolled his eyes before taking the three roll ups out of the baggie
“Your smokes, give em.” Plenty of room in the pack to slot the three roll ups, and as for the buds, Steve emptied out his travel sized bottle of hand lotion into the sink and stuffed the whole plastic bag into the little bottle, then screwed the lid on tight. Nobody would look twice at a rich kids hand lotion. “Now wet the ends of your hair.”
“What?”
“Your hair butthead! Wet it, we told my mother you’d be in here hurling your guts up, so… you got some in your hair, it’s a good extra to add to the ruse, now do it.”
“So my own boyfriend wouldn’t even hold my hair back if I threw up? Where’s the romance, where’s the commitment, where’s the care and—”
“Dude you have a lot of hair, I doubt I could get it all in my hand at once.” Although now that thought was in his head… could he? Could he get a good fistful and hold it there? Not important. “I’d drop bits.” A flimsy argument, he wouldn’t drop anything.
“Uh-huh, sure you would, big boy.” Eddie quickly dampened the tips of his hair, and ran a wet hand through his bangs quickly in a bid to fake flop sweat, theatrics over and done with. “Zipper-up, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”
Part 13
#PirateWrites#FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet#Steddie#No Upside Down AU#Fake Dating AU#lmao this was getting long so i'm splitting it up
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For me, the award for character growth has to go to Jin Xiaobao. 🥇
I know Huai’en has developed so much with regard to emotions—it’s like night and day going back to the first episodes—but overall he’s still mostly the same person. He was always smart, and his moral code was always questionable at best because of his upbringing. The biggest difference there now is that he cares about Xiaobao and makes decisions based on what will hurt him. He’s still okay with watching things burn or sacrificing himself if it will help Xiaobao, though. Not a criticism, just an observation. It’s not entirely fundamentally different from the early Huai’en who said that the world beyond his father’s plans wasn’t his concern and fought like he had a death wish.
Xiaobao, on the other hand, is fundamentally different. He has changed at all levels of development. Hear me out.
At the start, he would throw his affections at anybody who caught his eye in the moment and was extremely fickle. Now, he has been told people will set him up with lovely ladies so he can start a family at least twice, but he doesn’t entertain the notion because he knows there are bigger priorities, like his illness and taking care of his family and friends. Given that one of those offers came at the height of his disdain for Huai’en, it’s unlikely that it boils down to simply being lovesick, though that’s surely part of it. He’s been burned badly by that fickle attraction of his this time, so he’s far more discerning about his priorities. He doesn’t leap back into a relationship with Huai’en; even finding out about him giving up his title and getting the emperor to pardon them sent Xiaobao running to warn him about the trap, not running into his arms. His forgiveness isn’t so easily won anymore because instead of acting on a whim, he’s setting aside emotions and willfulness to emphasize prior experience. He knows his emotions and how he acts on them don’t just impact him anymore, so now his willfulness is tempered by his sense of responsibility.
On the subject of emotions, they were also far less stable and more manipulative before. If he didn’t get the responses he wanted, he’d toss a small fit, and his emotions could be like a rollercoaster at times. (“Pour me some water,” anyone?) He even planned to use that tendency to convince his mother their relationship was all right by turning on the waterworks. Now, he’s far more stable even with everything happening to him. By all accounts, this guy should be an absolute mess. He should have flipped his lid when Que Siming insinuated that he wanted to take Jinbao away—permanently. Instead, he doesn’t fly off the handle at things and takes a moment to think rather than base his responses on assumptions, especially self-centered ones.
Speaking of, he’s not at all self-centered anymore. He has repeatedly made mention of the fact that he can’t be a spoiled young master forever and that there is no going back for him. When confronting his feelings about Huai’en, he mentions his parents now being impoverished and homeless before his own struggles; he even talks about Xiaoyu being taken away and glosses over any sense of betrayal in their relationship in favor of focusing on the general betrayal of taking the account book. Even in moments when he could be justifiably angry with Su Yin for trying to keep him from doing whatever he wants with regard to Huai’en, he takes a step back and seems to consider why Su Yin is doing all this. He doesn’t expect Su Yin’s approach to change with his emotions or whims, given how unreliable he knows those have been before, and tailors his arguments to make it about logic and reason instead.
Another segue! Intellectually, Xiaobao has grown so much. On two occasions, he’s had to ask people to basically use smaller words; he passed the brain cell around with Jinbao and Zhaocai and was quite happy to take custody of it as seldom as possible. He still has moments where he doesn’t pick up on things, like not knowing his idioms or Su Yin’s sarcasm about selling Jinbao going right over his head, but he thinks now. He’s so insulated and protected that sometimes he needs a hint to spark his suspicions, but he thinks. All Que Siming had to say was “dahlia” and “Yuxia,” and Xiaobao was able to put together that something in Su Yin’s story didn’t add up. For someone who was teased about not understanding when he asked what Prince Li wanted Su Yin to return to Annan for, he’s repeatedly put together the intricacies of court politics in light of Huai’en’s identity and Su Yin’s plan with Shaoyu. His reaction is a culmination of all the aforementioned changes: not self-centered enough to make it about him even when he knows it really is, not overly emotional enough to be angry about it when he has plenty of reason, and smart enough to know how to address it in conversation. (Does it stop Su Yin from knocking him the hell out because he didn’t come this far for his little brother to hop back into what he perceives to be an abusive relationship? Nope, but you can see that it still means something to Su Yin to hear him speak that way all the same.)
I’m excited to read the book because a story like this really can’t be fully told in twelve episodes, but as far as his portrayal in the series goes, Xiaobao gets the gold medal in development for me. All of the characters have grown immensely from the start, but for me, Xiaobao is the one who has become the most well-rounded as a person through his experiences—including those unrelated to his relationship with Huai’en. He’s still the sunshine boy, but he knows when to rise and set now rather than burning himself and everyone around him out.
#meet you at the blossom#myatb#myatb spoilers#jin xiaobao#sorry had to get those thoughts down somewhere#myatb meta
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𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐈𝐕𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈’𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔) || 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍
summary: it's his fault. daryl knows that. he should've realised sooner that he knew exactly what those mushroom's would do to you once you ate them.
cw: 18+ only. dark fic [ft. sex pollen, dubcon, mentions of previous noncon drugging (on daryl), outdoor sex, grinding, fingering, squirting]
a/n: soo here is my first big daryl fic! honestly, this might be my favourite fic i’ve ever written :3 it was very fun to write and somehow i really liked writing daryl dialogue/inner monologue (his accent is just so fun lol). once again, this was supposed to be a very feral smut fest and ended up having a lot of emotional moments and inner daryl turmoil </3 i still hope you like it :)) || also very unrelated side note, but i think “gold rush” by taylor fits the daryl in this fic v much (it’d be from his pov, not yours)
“Where d’ya think we should go next?” You ask Daryl around a mouthful of the lone rabbit he hunted earlier this afternoon.
Finding food is getting harder and harder, not to mention you’re running out of your water supply. It’s obvious you need to move your camp to a better area, preferably somewhere near a lake or river. The question is, where is that exactly?
Daryl shrugs, turning the rabbit leg between his dirty fingers around. He takes a rough bite.
He doesn’t know, and to be honest, he doesn’t really care. Now that the prison fell and with the group scattered to the winds, he doesn’t have much hope for anything. He had gotten a little too comfortable there, his first mistake, and now look where it landed him. Had he learnt nothing from his first camp with Merle, then the camp in Atlanta, then the CDC, and finally the farm? He had enough experience under his belt to know that things always took a turn for the worse, especially when everything seemed safe and peaceful. Yet he still let his guard down.
The thing is, the prison… the prison was different. It was well protected, with several feet of fence that kept the walkers far from the main building. They didn’t have to worry about any walkers creeping into their cells and taking a bite out of them in the middle of the night since they were able to clear their side of the prison in a matter of days. They had guns and ammo, food and water. Hershel and Carol even taught them how to take care of crops. Hell, they even got their hands on some cattle! They didn’t need to scavenge the woods for some meagre squirrels any more.
Things were looking up. He had even started to think that maybe, just maybe, they could spend the rest of their lives there. But then the Governor showed up and everything went to shit.
So now here he is. No Rick, no Carol. Alone once again. Well, not exactly alone– he had you for company.
It’s not that he doesn’t like you– he likes you more than just a normal amount if he’s being honest with himself. It’s just that… you’re a dead girl walking. He doesn’t know how you’ve made it this far, and by all accounts you shouldn’t have. Before all this, before the virus and the walking dead, you were a preschool teacher. You had lived in the city your entire life, in a nice house located in a nice neighbourhood with nice parents. If he had to bet, he’d say you were even prom queen back in the day.
There had been no need for you to learn how to hunt, scavenge, track, shoot a gun or even handle a knife. Daryl had been the one to teach you how to shoot a gun in the air, volunteering immediately when Rick brought the subject up and completely ignoring the amused, knowing smile on his friend’s face.
If he focuses hard enough, he can still hear the sound of your happy laughter the first time you hit the center of the target. Can still feel your chest pressed to his in your celebratory hug.
“Think I saw some train tracks a couple miles east yesterday. If the others saw ‘em too, they’re probably following them thinkin’ we’re doing the same,” you ramble on, not letting his lack of answer deter you. “Maybe we could find Rick or Maggie.” You lean forward so you can reach the mushrooms you picked up today, plop one and then another inside your awaiting mouth.
Daryl watches as you chew, eyes judging. He had been adamant that you shouldn’t eat them, shouldn’t even touch them.
“Stupid girl,” he growled, swatting your hand away from the cluster growing on the bark of a tree. “Didn’t ya mom tell ya not to touch things you never seen before?”
“Ain’t stupid,” you bristled at his tone. “I know these, they used to grow ‘rond some plants in the garden back home. Pretty sure mom put them in our soup ev’ry now and then.”
You don’t let his lack of answer deter you. “Think I saw some train tracks a
Daryl kneeled beside you, broad right shoulder touching your left one, and examined them closely. He was sure he had never seen them before, not in the woods from his hometown nor in any of his hunting trips since the outbreak started. “Nah, these ain’t safe,” he concluded.
“Yes, they are.”
“No”, he enunciated the word to make it as clear as possible. “They ain’t.”
“Yes, they are,” you scowl and plush a couple from their roots. “I ain’t stupid nor useless. I know I can eat these.”
Daryl rolled his eyes. “If ya want to kill y’self just to prove a point then fine, be my fuckin’ guest,” he snarked. Then he got up and kept walking in silence, not even sparing you another glance.
He shakes his head firmly. “Nah, no train tracks.”
“What? Why?” You ask, surprised. “It’s our best shot at findin’ the others!”
“Ain’t no one to find, girl. S’better if ya stop kiddin’ yourself.”
“How could you say that?!” You look at him like he’s a monster. Daryl clenches his jaw. “They’re our friends, our family! We can’t just give ‘em up for dead as soon as things go south! Not after everything!”
Daryl throws away the bone in his hand and looks at you with fury. Don’t you get it? Merle, Sophia, Andrea, Lori, T-Dog, Dale, the list goes on and on. You’re the only one he knows for sure he has left and he’ll be damned if he has to add your name to the list too because you want to search for ghosts. You are his responsibility now. His voice is loud when he says, “Yeah, we should! ‘Cause if you saw those tracks y’know what it means? Means other people saw ‘em too. Bad people. And if ya go ‘round there, lighting fires and singin’ those stupid kid songs you sing all day like you’re in a fuckin’ musical or some shit y’know what they’re gonna do? They’re gon’ kill ya, or worse. So drop the fuckin’ topic and finish yer dinner.”
There really is no room for argument. You drop your gaze to the floor and gulp down the lump in your throat, bringing your knees to your chest. Everything is silent for at least an hour, the only sounds coming from the crackling fire and Daryl’s chewing.
And then you call his name.
“Daryl?” Your voice is different; breathier, quieter. Almost like you can barely string the letters together. “I don’t feel very well.”
He’s on his feet in a second, the argument forgotten as soon as he heard your mumbled call. In three quick steps he’s standing in front of you. He kneels so you’re the same height and cups the side of your face. “Wha’s wrong?”
You blink sluggishly, revealing your dilated pupils, and lick your lips. “I don’t know,” you slur. Your breathing gets heavier. “I think– Oh God, I’m so hot,” you complain, almost ripping the zipper of your jacket in your haste to take it off. You throw it away like it’s made of molten lava. Before he can stop you, you take off your long sleeved shirt, leaving you in just a tank top, and lean back against the fallen tree trunk with a relieved sigh.
It doesn’t make any sense, Daryl thinks. It’s almost winter in Georgia, you should be freezing, but there are no goosebumps littering your skin that might signal you are cold in any way. In fact, you’re even trying to roll your cargo pants up to relieve your legs from a nonexistent blistering heat.
Daryl presses his hand to your forehead and is surprised to find it slick with sweat. “Y’re burning up,” he says, though he guesses you could probably already tell. He takes one of your arms and inspects it closely, looking for any wounds that could potentially be infected. “Where ya bit?”
You shake your head. “No, no. I didn’t see any walkers today.”
Your arms are in pristine condition, save for some sparse moles and freckles and a single healed scratch on your forearm he remembers you got from running around the woods so carelessly. There’s no sign of a bite or infected cut.
“Did ya get close to anyone sick back at the prison?” He knows it’s stupid to ask– everyone had taken their rounds of antibiotics to prevent another possible outbreak, and it’s also been a week since the prison fell. If you had been infected, you would’ve showed symptoms earlier on, but he doesn’t know what else to do.
“No, I was with Beth ‘n Judy.” Suddenly, you gasp in pain and clutch your lower stomach, pressing your thighs together. “Daryl, it hurts,” you whimper.
The pain in your voice breaks his heart. You look so small, curled up in a tight ball like a wounded animal. He brings you into his lap and shushes you, “I know, I know.” He rubs your back in an attempt to soothe you. “Just lemme think for a second, ‘kay? M’gonna fix ya.”
He wrecks his brain for a solution but keeps coming up blank. He doesn’t have any idea as to what the hell caused this– one second you were fine and then the other you were bending over in pain. Did you touch something? Eat something? Was the water contaminated? Did some poisonous plant graze your skin? Was the rabbit he killed infected and he didn’t notice?
The tip of your nose tickles his neck as it moves from his collarbone up to his jaw, your rib cage expanding beneath his broad hand when you take a deep breath. He grunts at the strange sensation. “What are y’doin’, girl?”
Your hands curl around his shoulders, the leather of his vest crinkling beneath your tight grip. “You smell so good,” you mewl, taking in another whiff of his scent.
What the fuck.
He doesn’t know where the random compliment came from. He knows you have to be lying though– it’s been weeks since his last shower. His last one was five days before the prison fell and it wasn’t even a proper shower, just a scrub down with a rag, a bucket of water and some soap they found in the last supply run. That’s why he says, albeit a little disheartened, “Y’re talking nonsense.”
You shift in his lap, pressing your chests together and Daryl has to force himself not to react to the feeling of your boobs against his chest or to the movement of your wiggling hips over his crotch. “Am not, am not,” you babble, pressing small wet kisses to his neck and trailing your palms down his strong arm. “You– you smell so good. Feel so good. So big. I–” your breath hitches when you grind against him, relief morphing your previously pained features. “I need you, Daryl.”
His hands that were previously laying limp on either side of him are suddenly held by your softer, smaller ones and moved to your thighs. He drops his gaze, watches you control his hands. Up and down, up and down. The light coming from the fire illuminates the remnants of your dinner. You shift directions and now his hands are on your ass, forcing him to squeeze and grope as you keep grinding against him.
He stares intently at the leftover mushrooms and all of a sudden he’s 23 years old and Merle’s laughing his ass off as Daryl finishes the dinner his older brother had insisted on cooking. He remembers now, the desperation clawing at his chest when the shrooms started making effect. Remembers how Merle dragged him to a club in the city and patted his back in encouragement. “Go wild, baby brother! Lord knows ya need this.”
Misery is heavy on his shoulders. He wants to throw up– he was wrong before. He did see those mushrooms before. He had eaten them and been under their control. And now you were suffering the same fate he had all those years ago. Because of him, because he failed to realise sooner.
You move his hands up to your waist, your stomach, your breasts. He never wanted it to be like this. He had hoped, stupid as it was to dream about something other than mere survival, that if he ever got the courage to confess his feelings it’d be when everyone was safe again. When you didn’t have to sleep in tents and cars and pray to God he found any semblance of food. When you’d finally have a house, or a room, or at least a bed.
He’d be soft with you, just like you were with him every day.
Now, as you grind and moan above him in a lust filled rut, that dream will remain that. Just a dream.
He tears his hands from your grip, one settling on one side of your hip and the other cradling your cheek. Heat emanates from your skin like you’re a furnace. Daryl leans forward, lips brushing yours as he promises, “M’gonna make it better. That okay?”
You’re not in the right state of mind but he still asks for any semblance of peace of mind.
“Please,” you whimper, little crystal beads gathering on your waterline.
After months of pining, he finally closes the distance between you and presses your lips together in a firm kiss. Your mouth is soft and plain against his, trusting him enough to follow his every command as he devours you completely. He uses the hand on your hip to help you smooth down your otherwise stuttered grinding, drinking down every sweet little moan and gasp he elicits out of you.
That’s what you are– sweet. Sweet to touch and taste and feel. Sweet even in the way you cling to him, use him to relieve the affliction between your legs he accidentally caused.
Daryl holds you by the back of your neck, feels the warmth of your breath as you moan his name. “More. I need more,” you cry. The tear tracks on your cheeks glimmer in the warm fire light. “M’so empty. Need you to fuck me. Please, please, please,” you beg like a broken record, forcing your fist into Daryl’s chest and twisting his heartstrings without mercy.
“Don’t cry, doll face,” he rasps, brushing away your fresh wave of tears. You inhale shakily, leaning into his touch and nuzzling his palm like a touch starved kitten. Your hands tremble as you unbutton your jeans, struggling to pull them down from how sweaty you are and how sticky the insides of your thighs became. Daryl silences you every whine with a kiss and helps you pull them down to your shins, not willing to risk taking off both your shoes and pants completely in case you need to make a quick escape.
“I said I’s gonna fix ya and I am. Just need a couple minutes first.” You make another noise of complaint that turns into a relieved sigh when Daryl pulls your panties to the side and teases your folds with the tip of his fingers. “Need to get ya ready first. This all for me?” He asks, gathering all the slick dripping out of you.
“Mhm,” you hum, eyes closed in bliss as he toys with you. You nudge your noses together. “Always for you, Daryl. Only you.”
You really need to stop playing with his feelings like that. You’re talking out of your ass, he tells himself, letting your desire and need for relief control your words. Still, it’s nice to hear. He can’t deny that. Maybe he can live in this fantasy bubble a little longer, at least until reality crashes down on you both and you have to come to terms with what happened and decide to never see him again.
He circles your weeping hole, taunting you, then plunges a lone finger inside when you look like you’re ready to pounce on him. It’s easy, oh so easy, for him to slip in. He thought it would be harder, given the fact that he knew you haven’t slept with anyone since the apocalypse started. Not that he kept an eye on you or anything, he just happened to notice how your tent and cell were always silent, much like his. But you’re so wet that your cunt practically swallowed him right in.
You tap his shoulder needily, mouthing the word “more”, and bite your lip to stay quiet when he adds a second finger and then a third. You could cry from how happy you are right now.
“That enough for ya, ya spoiled girl?” He scoffs, rubbing circles on your swollen clit with his thumb.
You can only nod as he buries his fingers up to his knuckles, curling them and feeling the rough calluses as he prods inside you in search of your soft spot. When your loudest moan yet lets him know he found it, he abuses it, creating loud squelching noises that have him smiling.
Euphoria sends a shiver down your spine and makes your entire body shake as you cum, a small stream of clear liquid hitting Daryl’s wrist and dripping down to his jeans. “Shit,” he whispers, amazed.
He made you squirt.
Daryl’s still staring at his dripping wrist as you paw at him with a heaving chest, fingers curling around his brown plaid shirt. Your nails could nearly break the fabric. “You promised,” you sob. “You promised you’d fix it. That you’d fuck me. Don’t you want me?”
He tears his gaze away from the mess between your legs in shock. How could you ever think he doesn’t want you? When you’ve consumed his every waking thought and haunted his every dream. When the only thing he wanted to do when you looked at him with those glimmering eyes was to follow your every command word for word. When he didn’t want to just fuck you– he wanted to keep you safe and warm, wanted to make sure you’d never know hunger.
He grabs your jaw, fingers tightly pressing on your warm cheeks, and snarls. “Don’t ever think I don’t want ya.” He tugs you to him so he can kiss you, unbuckling his belt with one hand and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. Your own hand joins his and squirms under the rough fabric so you can take his cock out from behind his boxers. His jaw clenches at the feeling of your soft hand around him, so different from his own. Untouched by decades of manual work, protected by dutiful applications of hand creams (he's heard you tell Beth how dry your hands are now and how much you miss your favourite hand cream. He’s been looking for some on every supply run ever since).
He spreads all the wetness stuck to his fingers over his cock, his stomach doing a summersault when he sees you biting your lower lip in want. You guide him to your entrance, gasping in unison when the mushroom tip slips past your soaking wet folds. Slowly, you sink yourself down, Daryl mouthing at your neck as you get used to the thickness of his cock as it threatens to split you in half.
“Relax,” Daryl grunts, the scruff covering his cheeks scratching at the tender skin of your cleavage. He goes back to playing with your clit, knowing it’ll allow the tension to leave your muscles and he’ll be able to push in the remaining two inches.
Once he’s buried to the hilt, you take a shuddering breath in and slowly start to bounce. “Wanted this for so long,” you babble. “Wanted you, Daryl. A-And now you want me,” you smile, increasing the speed of your bouncing. You chant, “You want me, you want me, you want me.”
Daryl nods, teeth gritted as he feels you tighten around him, walls pulsing. You collapse on his chest, hips still grinding in search of any form of friction. With a firm and secure grip, he grabs your ass and uses it as leverage so he can pound you down on him. For once, he’s not worried about loud noises or stray walkers or even unknown strangers stumbling into the scene. No, he just worries about you and your sweet cunt keeping his cock warm; about your lips on his neck, your hands gripping his hair and your dulcet “uh uh uh’s” ringing in his ears as you cum for the second time.
He lifts you off of him just in time to shoot ropes of white all over his shirt, biting your neck to muffle his grunts of pleasure. For once in what seems like a lifetime, the walker infested woods are completely still, only both of your laboured breathing breaking the unusual silence.
Until you speak in a meek voice and it’s like he’s suddenly doused in cold water. “Daryl?”
He drops his forehead to your clavicle and shuts his eyes tightly, heaving a sigh. This is it– the moment where he loses you, where you run away. Forever disgusted with him. Afraid of him for breaking your trust.
After another beat of silence, you call his name again. “What happened?”
He straightens his back and rubs his face. He clears his throat. “It was the mushrooms,” he refuses to look at you as he explains the events of the night, unable to stomach the look of disgust he’s sure is all over your pretty face. “The ones you picked up today. I thought I didn’t know them but I did. They’re some kind of… aphrodisiac or some shit like that. Merle…” he trails off, skipping over the reason he knew about them in the first place. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. “Y’were feeling so sick ‘n those things… with the amount you ate they would’ve– they would’ve killed ya if I didn’t…”
“You saved me,” you state, cradling his face so that he can see you. His face is all scrunched up like he wants to cry and he hates himself for it– he has no right to feel like shit. He shakes his head. “You did. You saved me. I would’ve died if you didn’t do as I said, as I wanted you to.” You kiss his lips chastely. “Y’know, I meant what I said earlier. While we were…”
“Nah,” he scoffs. “Y’were just saying shit ‘cause of the drugs. S’okay, ya don’t have to worry ‘bout my feelings.”
“No,” you frown, disconcerted that he always seems to bring himself down without even realising it. “I meant it. I’ve wanted you for a while, since– since the CDC, actually. When we played that card game after dinner and ya helped me get to bed since I was too drunk to even stand.” You smile as you remember the feeling of his arm around your waist and the soft pat on your head once you were resting on the pillow. You tuck some strands of hair behind his ear and his throat dries. Shrugging, you say, “I just never thought you liked me that way.”
Daryl weighs his options, wonders if he should take a leap of faith or pretend he’s never thought of you that way. This is too much for him. He’s scared to bare his chest wide open only for you to dislike what’s inside. But then he sees the earnest look in your eye and behind it, the fear that he won’t say anything at all.
“I do,” he gets out through the fist clutching his vocal chords. “Like you. Like that, I mean. I–” He shuts his eyes at how useless he’s with words (another reason why you deserve someone better than him). However, instead of rolling your eyes at him or making a derisive sound like he expected, you simply giggle at his uselessness, reaching for him once more.
He lets you kiss him and touch him as much as you want. You trace his brow bone and cheekbones with the soft pads of your fingers, play with the ends of matted hair and twirl them around your index. When you yawn, he makes sure you have your top and jacket back on and lets you rest on his chest. He stretches his arm so he can reach his discarded crossbow and leaves it on his side. “C’mon, go to sleep. I’ll take first watch.”
pls reblog if u enjoyed it, it’ll make me twirl my hair and kick my feet :3
#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead imagine#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead#daryl dixon
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Tips for Moving Out for the First Time
I moved out of my parents house around 5 years ago and have since lived in four different apartments with four different combinations of roommates. And I’ve made a million mistakes. So if you’re thinking of moving out soon or have a move planned already, here’s just a few things you need to know:
1. Don’t mess with your lease
I cannot express this enough. The lease you sign is a serious legal contract. To break your lease is a genuinely big deal, and one that I didn’t take seriously enough in my first apartment. Listen, you may hear about your friends or other people sneaking in pets or an additional roommate that goes against what their lease says—I did this too, because people do it all the time and who cares as long as I pay rent on time? What started as my best friend and roommate bringing in her cat in our no-pets-allowed apartment ended in a very traumatic eviction, police involvement, and a permanent fissure in my friendship with my best friend.
Listen, I don’t want to scare you with all the gory details, but eviction is no small thing, and after that experience, I would never mess with my lease again. Even afterwards, I found landlords will always take the word of another landlord over yours. To get our next place we had to lie about our previous housing, give a fake name and number of our previous landlord, and in general it was incredibly difficult and stressful to get into a new place having to make up everything about our previous situation since we were in the wrong.
Please, don’t mess with your lease. The rules are the rules, and unfortunately landlords can make your life hell if you don’t follow them.
2. But seriously question it + know your tenant rights
On the topic of leases, read yours thoroughly to understand what rules are expected you follow, what it’s expected you’ll pay versus what’s included in the monthly rent, and when your contract begins and ends. Leases are packed full of important information, so don’t let anyone rush you through reading and understanding it, and it’s definitely a red flag if your landlord isn’t willing to talk or answer questions about it.
If your landlord told you that utilities are included in the rent, but your lease says it isn’t, question them! The lease is ultimately what rules you will follow, their word doesn’t mean much. If you need to change something, get it on paper, and don’t sign until you’re both happy with your contract.
Also do your research on your tenant rights in your city. What actions you can take if your landlord breaks your lease, what’s expected from your landlord in handling concerns of your suite/house, rent increases, what things a landlord can ask you about or not, and what is grounds for eviction (versus what they can't evict you for). Take notes for later in case you need them (but hopefully you won’t!)
3. Sign contracts with your roomies
I lived with a friend I kind of knew from school, my best friend, two best friends, and then a best friend and their friend, and no matter what my relationship to my roommates was, it was made 1 million percent better when we had a contract with each other, and had talked over and set specific rules for how we’d live together. People say don’t live with your best friends—I’d just say, don’t live with your best friends without a contract.
Sit down with your roomies, figure out who will do what chores and when, what the expectations are for sharing or not sharing groceries, cleaning supplies, dishes and other kitchen supplies, toilet paper, etc. etc., rules for having friends and partners over, noisiness, and any weird pet peeves you all have so you can avoid them with each other.
Put down everything you decide together on paper, and get everyone to sign it. It maybe seems extreme, but it’s better to do this right away than have to have a difficult and awkward conversation later about your roommate’s boyfriend who hasn’t gone home in three months and is driving up your grocery costs without adding anything to the household. Trust me on this one.
4. Get a job before you move out
Especially if you’re moving to a new city or far away from where you live currently, don’t assume you can move in first and then find a job later. Unless you have a lot of savings and you’re willing to lose it all if it comes to that, a job isn’t always guaranteed and rent money goes quick. To be safe and maintain trust with your landlord, job comes first.
(It’s also going to be a lot easier to get a place if you have a job first, landlords always ask about your work and earnings each month to make sure you’re a reliable tenant.)
I have a lot of experience in moving and finding apartments so if you want some more specific tips about actually getting a place, roommates, or anything else about the moving out process I’m happy to answer questions as best as I can! Just send em to my inbox or in the comment.
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I've recently checked out your Yui x female headcanons and I wanna know do you actually think Yui falling in love with the diaboys is just Stockholm syndrome? I know they’re just meant to be head canons but I’m pretty curious about it (but I’m pretty sure she genuinely fell in love with them)
I was waiting for this one!! Here’s an analysis on my end!!
TW FOR PEDOPHILIA, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, DIABOLIK LOVERS TYPICAL ABUSE.
So let’s start off with who Yui is as a character.
She’s supposed to be written as a sheltered, sweet, and overall empathetic girl who follows a strict moral code, mainly influenced by her religious views (Roman Catholicism).
This is heavily implied as in Romania at the time and as of current, Roman Catholicism is the main religion practiced.
It’s canon that her interactions with men have been controlled, as seen with her father— who did neglect her, leaving her to eat meals by herself, always be home alone, and basically only rely on the nuns for some support— but even then it wasn’t enough.
Hence why she can be considered to be a ‘good housewife’ since she has that experience on knowing how to manage a household with chores and all.
Even further pushing it for her previous relations with men, we know she had friends before— a life before— the house. Men? I would assume she was cordial when needed to be, but never was allowed to heavily interact, which is why she’s so out of date with her speaking, and pop culture— as it’s revealed by Yui, herself, that she doesn’t know that much.
But of course, why is that important? It gives the key foundlings to her environment, and also aids in assessing who’s more susceptible to Stockholm syndrome, and any tactics of abuse.
Basically who is the best ‘target’ for abusers to get too.
Her father canonically has given off-hand sketchy vibes, and also has canonically shown borderline pedophilic behaviours towards his own adoptive daughter. Even going as far as to want and attempt to marry her.
(I’m not sure where that is shown again, but in some MB routes— Kou’s, Ruki’s— he [Seiji, Her adoptive father] meets Yui and assumes she’s a vampire and attempts to kill her.)
Basically, it all starts at home. It sets the ground work for what you can take and what a person is conditioned to believe, etc.
In this case, Yui is conditioned to believe that it’s at least normal for her to appropriate these behaviours, and in a sense, still talk good about the men around her because she doesn’t know any better. She doesn’t know anything other than this.
That’s why she still tries her best to talk about her father is a positive light, because, due to her good heart, wants to believe and see the best and people (a core part in her character which allows her to live and persevere all routes— especially HDB with the boys.)
So due to that, we can take the groundwork presented to us as a Player, Reader, or consumer of the games and Diabolik Lovers Media, that Yui’s relationships and viewpoints of men is formed and directly influenced by her father and what rules he set up.
A psychological fact, everyone’s core parts and associations all start at home, with our parents. That’s why many get their viewpoints of how a man should treat you, via your father figure. And so forth.
It starts with discipline, then forming views and opinions, and overall how the treatment you receive reflects directly what you are constantly engaged and exposed to in your home-life and environment.
So for Yui, we can understand the following—
A) Relations with Father figure (which impacts her views/treatment by men) is shifty, but she still speaks in good light.
B) She is used to being alone, and handling everything herself. Bottling it in as she didn’t have that many outlets other than the obvious religious standpoint.
C) Despite it all, she’s raised to be a good person and is high or quite white, on the scale of morality.
So with that being said, what is Stockholm Syndrome?
Stockholm Syndrome is a diagnosis given when:
A) Feelings of trust or affection felt in many cases of kidnapping or hostage-taking by a victim toward a captor.
B) Hostages sometimes develop a psychological bond with their captors. It is supposed to result from a rather specific set of circumstances, namely the power imbalances contained in hostage-taking, kidnapping, and abusive relationships.
That is the formal definition, given by Oxford Dictionary and Wikipedia (Cited from: King, David [2020], and Jameson, C [2010].)
Which are official reports reviewed by psychologists and psychiatrists who are heavily trained in their field.
Now, we can take it from the anime and HDB (the darkest of the games,) that Reiji implicitly states “You are not able to leave.” To which Subaru replies, “Just tell her that if she attempts to escape she’ll die.”
That in itself tells you there’s no escape. And that from that point on, Yui becomes a hostage. In a house with pre-established men who already are high level threats to Yui, and are highly dangerous.
And what is Yui? She’s afraid. Like any sane person who understands the power difference between a man and a woman— more specifically vampires. She learns this instantly, and also faces threats of bodily harm quick into her stay.
Whatever happens later on in any route, is Yui playing the saviour. She’s expected to cater to every boy, and there are heavy repercussions if she disobeys.
There’s a master post of everything in HDB that occurs when the boys attempt to kill her.
And of course, this doesn’t just start at HDB, this also extends all all games, MB, DF, LE, and just any and all games when there’s an introduction in characters or simply just any routes.
In every route there will be at least some sort of implication of abuse or undertones. As that is what Diabolik Lovers is, a dark video game series.
Point is, if it’s Diabolik Lovers, expect some sort of abuse towards the MC/Yui/Player.
With this basis and mentality in mind, it’s heavy and dark. Which is what lead many previous brides to take their own life. They couldn’t handle the constant pressure nor the abuse being presented to them that they underwent.
So where does Yui fit into all of this?
A) She’s one of the many brides and assumed to be the last bride to enter the house due to her complicated relations with her heart.
B) She is undergoing the abuse of the Sakamaki’s, Mukami’s, Tsukinami’s, and Kino.
C) She is quite literally a victim and survivor of what countless other brides have died to. The only thing keeping her alive is her heart, which also goes to make problems for her in the future.
It’s been stated, highlighted, emphasized and understood by everyone— including Yui herself, that all she is worth is her blood. A blood bag. That is it.
Of course, this is where the Adam and Eve Plan would come into play with Yui finding an Adam out of the candidates.
However, she is still in this environnement which tolerates and even thrives off of her abuse.
Which would, in some routes, condition her to become a masochist, thriving off of her own pain, just because the vampires constantly tell her, gaslight her, and condition her to believe that she likes it.
Even after Yui consistently states she doesn’t.
(This is also influenced by Cordelia’s heart, and what Cordelia is subconsciously pushing Yui too aswell, as seen in HDB, one of the scenes with Shuu as he gets jumped in the alleyway. Her thoughts— driven by Cordelia in the moment— reflect sadistic intent. Another scene where she’s pushed to enjoy her suffering, even when Yui fights against it because somewhere inside her knows it’s wrong.)
However, this isn’t to say that the boys don’t get character development. They do. Which is how we as a consumer and player can have fan favourites and like them.
But how do they get to that point? Through Yui. Using Yui as a direct catalyst to project their abusive tendencies into her, leaving her to pick up the pieces with herself, and become an unlicensed therapist to aid in their problems.
This is directly influenced by each of the Sakamaki’s mommy issues, the Mukami’s inferiority complexes and need to succeed, and for the Tsukinami’s— their need for their race to be saved.
And of course, understanding every boys’ underlying complexities of their individual traumas which make up their character as we know it.
Yui has to suffer a lot for her to get what we see it, or what is painted as, ‘love and a good ending,’ with the selected boy and route of each respective game— along with the boy chosen.
She gets here because she’s slowly conditioned to allow these abusers to take over her life, and basically become what they need in that moment.
But she does have her own personality, her own goals, motivations, and whatnot.
However it becomes overrided by the survivor mentality she’s instantly placed in when she’s constantly around these vampiric men. She’s always on her guard, and the moment she drops it, it’s used against her.
Even when she’s seemingly in a good moment with the boys, understand, that one wrong move can send her straight to death. So everything is much more calculated than it seems.
In fact— to further prove the Stockholm syndrome affect— Yui acknowledges that she’s stuck and trapped. In Shuu’s HDB route, DARK 01, she only attempts to get Shuu to go to his classes in hopes that the Sakamaki’s will be greatful to her and let her leave.
So even if she does happen to find attraction in any of the boys, and fall in love, there’s still an outlining of conditioning that gets her to that point.
This isn’t to hate on anyone that ships Yui with any of the boys, this is simply a brief analysis of the facts from a purely psychological approach!! I’d like to think if the boys got therapy and worked through their problems, perhaps then, they wouldn’t have projected their traumas onto Yui.
But thank you for the ask!! This was fun to analyze!!
#ask reply#ask iris/admin#diabolik lovers#diabolik lovers fandom#dl fandom#diabolik lovers analysis#yui komori centric#yui komori#komori yui
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I was asked by @eva-sparda20 what my thoughts were on Arkham verse Jason and his parents. Here’s the story and the rant. I think most Jason variants have the same story for the most part. I also know in the original story his mother wasn’t actually Cathrine but was Sheila, I honestly don’t roll with that sorry line. I like the newer version where his mother is Cathrine. Besides, the original had been somewhat rewritten and is different from the original. That’s all! Enjoy, and just know there are dark themes. Sad ones. Be prepared.
⚠️Warning!⚠️ mention of drugs, abuse, sexual acts, and death.
AKJ’s father and mother are no different than the other Jason Todd variants. A selfish mother, deadbeat dad who may or may not have tried to make ends meet but was too drunk or drugged out like his wife Cathrine. AK Jason’s dad who is Willis Todd was abusive, abused his wife, abused Jason without discrimination. At some point in Jason’s life his dad started sleeping elsewhere. Going to the next best thing. Wherever he felt like going. Keeping the bed warm for another woman. Before that Jason’s dad did try to take care of Cathrine the best he could. However it’s hard to have a drunk man try to take care of a drugged out woman. He grew tired of trying, frustrated, he wasn’t in love with this woman anymore, it was a pain, an inconvenience. The abuse started shortly after giving up when Jason was around 3 almost four. Willis left when Jason was 6.
As for Jason’s mother, she was barely conscious. She was a good girl who got caught and fell in love with the wrong crowd. Once she got caught up with Jason’s dad and it was all downhill from there. Once addicted to drugs she couldn’t quit. No one stopped her, there was no voice of reason, she probably would have been outcast from her upstanding family. During the beginning of Cathrine and Willis’ relationship Cathrine got pregnant. She was mindful enough to not do any drugs during this time. At least not a lot of drugs. It’s still a miracle that Jason was born with any sort of disability mentally or physically.
During the first few months she took care of infant Jason, breastfeeding, sang him to sleep, all of the things. She was clean for a little bit but when Jason was about 2 she gave in to the itch that had always been in the back of her mind. The need that she felt ever since she stopped. Willis was more than happy to provide too so that didn’t help in the slightest. That’s when the cycle started to a point where it would never stop, wake up, shoot or snort a drug, and drift. The abuse she insured didn't really matter to her, she didn't feel it anyway. When she would “wake up” from the high she would see the bruises, the swollen parts and a beat up Jason. She couldn’t handle the failure. That fact that her parents were right. She’d become nothing. A failure. What’s better to do to forget them to do more drugs? Worked so far.
Jason started taking care of his mom when he was almost 4. When she was somewhat conscious he gave her water or beer, whatever was accessible. He learned to never let her have milk when drugged out. That was…a traumatic experience in itself. A bad mix. There was hardly any food in the house, just some crackers and some food that was in the freezer for a long time. He saw his mom use the microwave once so he knew what to do. He’d cook frozen food the best he could. Sometimes Cathrine would complain that the food was still cold through groans and have formed sentences. When his mother was completely passed out though he’d try to give her water, most of it didn’t really make it far, just pooled in her mouth and slipped down the sides of her lips. A miracle she didn’t choke.
When his father was around he was on high alert. The fights, when his mom was somewhat awake and alive having animated arguments and fights with Willis. Jason would hide under the table just waiting for it to be over. If Cathrine was passed out the narrative changes. His mother is defenseless. Vulnerable. So he stepped in protecting her the best he could. Most of the time it just ended with him flat out on the floor next to his mother hurting and sobbing. Sometimes as far as bleeding.when Jason’s dad started not coming home anymore he took care of his mom full time. Feeding her, sometimes helping her bath and wash up. That mostly included just a cold wet cloth and scrubbing. She still smelled most of the time.
The times she was awake she’d leave, usually to get her fix. Most of the time she came home with stringers. Jason witnessed all sorts of disgustingly sexual acts. Heard the most obscene words. Name calling, hair pulling, licking, fevered kisses, naked skin, and sounds that kept him up at night. Things a little boy who is only 6 shouldn’t see or be exposed to. Eventually he came to understand that those visitors were being paid with her body for drugs. He started stealing and dumpster diving for himself and his mom. Jason was light on his feet and hadn’t been caught by the cops. Not at all. He’d been jumped before though for food by some other street dweller. That was an awful time. He practically crawled his way home.
By the age of 8 Jason’s mom stop rousing so much, she stopped mindless babbling about things Jason didn’t understand and one day…she stopped moving all together. Her lips and fingers are blue from the lack of blood flow. Slight built up frothing at the mouth. A scary sight for Jason. He’d clean away the froth and try to warm her up. He tried to give her water but that wasn’t going to wake her. Not this time. No amount of pinching, shoving, or patting woke her up. He even punched her as hard as he could but she didn’t wake. He bawled because he felt guilt for hitting her hard. Reminded him of his dad. He’d apologize to her crying. “ ‘m sorry, I-i didn't mean ta hit ya hard.” The next few days he tried to wake her up but nothing. She was gone. Sadly there was no time to process, he had to fend for himself now, to try and survive. Part of him hoped she’d just wake up. He checks from time to time every time Jason comes back home. He stole, bargained, and ran the street. Smarter than any kid his age without an education.
One night he saw something, a sleek looking car that had a bat on it. A symbol. He had heard of Batman, but had never seen him though. Pretty stupid of him to leave such a nice car unattended. He would look around and when he saw the cost was clear he’d take a heavy four way wrench and start to work on stealing one of the tire plates. A shadow casted a darkness over him. Someone looming over him. Gripping the tool in his little hands he whipped around to swing at the individual only for it to be ripped from his hands. Batman was terrifying but Jason wouldn’t let him know he was afraid. A slew of colorful curse words and creative threats spewed from his mouth. Threats he knew he couldn’t really keep but he wanted to get this Batman to understand he wanted a pushover or easy to take down. The Batman analyzed him, looking him over quietly for a moment before the odd sound of laughing. Jason should have ran but he didn’t. He stayed. He was confused. Batman smiled and said “hungry?” Jason would causouly accept. That night he’d eat more burgers than he’d ever had in his whole life. Fries and a drink. He ate like the starved child he was. That was where his life started as Robin. The snowball that brought him to who he is now. The Redhood. The vigilante of the streets. The man who used to be the Arkham knight. The man who is playing Batman’s game but with his own rules.
Side notes: Jason’s life never really had a pause. He still kept on going in life and didn’t get a chance to heal or even pause and think things over. His own feeling came out when fighting criminals. Batman’s mistake was not giving Jason time and therapy before throwing him in the world of Robin. He didn’t get to think about the loss of his mother or father. His mind was so focused and overworked on education (which he excelled in) being Robin, detective work, being Bruce’s son, he never got time to pause and heal.
Jason’s mother was found by the neighbors of the apartment they lived in after she started stinking. An unfortunate end.
Arkhamverse redhood does sometimes think about his parents. Sure it’s sad but he can’t necessarily find it in himself to feel sad. There wasn’t a connection there and there was an emptiness there. He also has so much more trauma on top of his parents. The joker, Batman, all the other things.
Currently he’s trying to heal. He’s had some time nowadays to settle. He’s had a few mental breakdowns. He’s so out of sorts. Full on crying, heaving breaths, all of it. Over everything, there is so much pain there isn’t a distinction. He’s trying to go to therapy and figure it all out but it’s hard. Therapy is great but no amount of therapy could change his mistrust, jumpy moments, nightmares, and PTSD. Sure it could suppress them but they always come back. Especially with his kind of trauma.
#arkham knight x reader#batfam#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#red hood#redhood#ak jason#ak redhood#jason todd headcanon#jason todd fanart#redhood dc#redhood fanart#dc robin#roy harper#dc x y/n#dc x you#dick grayson#dcu#arkham knight#arkhamverse#gotham knights#nightwing#batfamily#bruce wayne#batman#willis todd#Catherine Todd
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Hi so I’m 15 and in a relationship for the first time so I don’t have experience with any of this stuff. My partner and I have been doing sexual stuff for a few months now I just have some questions.
First, I was wondering how we can do sexual things in a way that doesn’t bother other people in the house. Like maybe that’s a dumb question and the answer is just be quiet but idk it’s hard bc my partner is very vocal. Also there’s very few opportunities to do stuff without anyone else home so that’s not rly an option.
Also my parents have been very weird about my relationship with my partner. Making lots of odd comments such as “i wonder if they’re having sex up there” (to my brother who is a *child*) and giving me lots of looks that just kind of make me feel really bad about my relationship. I know that sex is natural but they make me feel really bad about it and I could use some advice on what to do about that
Next, my partner and I are both interested in getting in to kink but I don’t really know how to go about it. I’ve never heard of people getting into that stuff as minors and we don’t want to do anything too crazy especially since we don’t really have access to any supplies.
You’ve definitely talked about this before but could you tell me what kind of protection is best and easiest to use and obtain for f/f sex. School didn’t teach me how to use anything other than a male condom.
Thank you so much. Sorry for asking so many questions
hi anon,
your first question is going to be pretty circumstantial; I don't know what the layout of your house is like or how realistic it is to wait for privacy. the ideal if of course to wait until everyone else is either asleep or out of the house, but I recognize that the former may be difficult if not impossible for someone your age and you've already said the latter is hard to come by. using other noises, like music or TV or white noise, can be helpful, although it's unlikely to prevent your parents from speculating.
to address your second problem most directly, I'm afraid there's no much that I personally can do to rectify that. it is unfortunately very normal for parents to have an anxious, awkward, and difficult time adjusting to their children becoming sexually curious. I think the most crucial thing to remember here is that this has nothing to do with what you're doing being gross or wrong, and most everything to do with how your parents were raised to think about sex. unless they have specific concerns they want to raise with you about sexual safety, their reactions are most likely coming from a place of discomfort that they don't know how to channel appropriately. that's not a shortcoming on your part, but on the people who failed to help them develop a better way of understanding their own feelings about sex - and, yes, on them for how they're handling those feelings now.
I'm unsure exactly what you're interested in exploring, since kink covers a very broad array of activities and "supplies" could mean almost anything, but I would definitely recommend an abundance of caution in your explorations. kink is great, but that doesn't mean it's easy for for everyone. there's a reason that you seldom hear of people your age getting into kink, which is that it generally requires a great deal of practice with navigating partnered intimacy and communication - something that few teenagers have had time to develop the skills for. kink is also something that many people find works best as a communal activity, by finding others to help introduce them around and sharing experience to help safely explore their fantasies; for obvious safety reasons, few kink spaces are looking to admit 15 year olds. by all means, do your research - Evie Lupine's youtube channel is a great place to start, with a backlog of hundreds of videos covering all kinds of kink-related topics - but be careful with how you act on it, and recognize that kink comes with more potential complications and risks than "vanilla" sex that cannot be taken lightly.
if both parties have vulvas and vaginas then you can use dental dams for protection during oral sex, latex or nitrile gloves or finger cots to cover hands/fingers, and external ("male," although there's nothing inherently gendered about them) condoms for any penetrative toys (or cut them down one side to flatten them out and make the aforementioned dental dams).
please don't apologize for asking questions! questions are how you learn and stay safe :)
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Hi guys! So this is my first Fire Force Oneshot in well over a year, I apologize for that. I’m still not 100% back into my old fandoms yet, but I’m getting there! I’ve been working on this oneshot off and on for about…a year think 😅. So I hope you all enjoy and I apologize if it’s a bit OOC. Also this oneshot is based off THESE headcanons 🥰!
Word Count: 1,749
Warnings: None
———
“ I’m not doing it.”
“ Please Beni, it’s only for a couple of hours. Please!”
“ No, I’m not doing-.” Beni started as he suddenly watched his wife grab her bag and walk towards the door.
“ Thanks dear! I’ll see you two in a few hours!” She shouted over her shoulder before she walked out of the house, Benimaru was suddenly left standing there, in the doorway, with his mouth partially open in disbelief.
Earlier this morning his wife had asked him to watch their daughter, Natsuki, while she went to the market for a few hours. Of course he refused, not because he didn’t want to spend time with his daughter, but because he had never spent time alone with her. Even though Benimaru looked calm on the outside, on the inside he was almost uncharacteristically nervous!
He looked over at his daughter, who looked right back at him with an almost curious gaze. She was probably wondering why her mother was leaving her with someone with little experience. He almost chuckled at the thought, if he were Natsuki he wouldn’t trust him either.
Benimaru walked over to her, picked her up out of her highchair, and gently held her in his arms.
“ Alright, looks like it’s just you and me today, kid.” He told her with a sigh, he looked down and saw what appeared to be a look of skepticism on his daughter's face. “ What? It’ll be fine.” He added with a shrug, but just in case things happened to go awry, he walked over to his house phone and decided to give Konro a call.
When Konro answered he knew exactly what this call was going to be about. Beni’s wife had informed him a few hours ago that she would be leaving the two alone and that he wasn’t allowed to help Beni unless it was an emergency.
“ I’m not coming to help you if that’s what this call is about.” Konro said with a small chuckle, he heard Beni make a weird noise as he had been caught.
“ I need your help Konro. I-, Natsuki stop squirming, I-, please Natsuki I don’t want to drop you!” Benimaru muttered as he wrestled the squirming child, Konro chuckled again as he listened to the father argue with his daughter.
“ Beni, you don’t need my help, you don’t even need your wife’s help with this.” Konro said as Benimaru scoffed on the other end of the line.
“ Of all the people in Asakusa I didn’t expect you to be the one to lie to me Konro.” He muttered, of course Konro had told small white lies in the past, but not blatant ones like this.
“ I’m not lying. I don’t think you realize how good you are with Natsuki. Wasn’t it you who was the first person to tell what her different cries meant? And not to mention you’re pretty much a pro when it comes to feeding her.” He pointed out.
“ Those things were just luck.” Benimaru muttered, Konro sighed.
“ If that were true do you really think your wife would have left you two alone, and for hours at that?” Konro asked, they both knew he had a point, if Beni’s wife really thought he wouldn’t be able to handle it she would have asked Konro to go over there, or she just would have taken Natsuki with her.
“ You…have a point.” Benimaru muttered, he glared slightly as the older man chuckled.
“ Listen Beni, you can do this. I know you’re nervous since this is something different and something you have very little experience in, but do you really think you’re the first and only parent who's ever felt like this when they were left alone with their kid for the first time? I bet if you ask any parent in Asakusa they’d tell you what I just did.” Konro could just see Benimaru looking away and rubbing his neck nervously. Konro chuckled, he probably knew Beni better than Beni knew himself.
“ You’ll be alright, besides, it’s only for a couple of hours right? You can do this.” Konro reassured him, and Beni just sighed.
“ Fine…but if something goes wrong, then I’m going to tell my wife it was all your fault because you didn’t help me.” Beni told him, to which Konro chuckled in response.
“ Alright, that sounds pretty fair to me.”
The men hung up and Benimaru looked at the now settled baby in his arms and gave her a slightly strained smile. He could do this, it wasn’t like he was fighting a hundred infernal’s right? He could do this.
At least that’s what he thought.
Things started off great after Benimaru had gotten off the phone with Konro, he and Natsuki had lunch and he had hoped that maybe she would try to take a nap.
But that didn’t happen.
Actually the complete opposite happened, instead of getting tired like he thought she would, she got a burst of energy. She began to crawl around and reach for things even though he would try to stop her, she accidentally knocked things over and broke them, and at one point had somehow locked herself in Benimaru and his wife’s closet! Benimaru sighed as he finally found Natsuki just sitting on the floor of the closet, playing in her parents clothes.
“ Natsuki, you’ve been crawling around for nearly an hour. Aren’t you tired yet?” Benimaru asked as he picked his daughter up and held her in his arms, she suddenly giggled and tried to squirm around in his arms which told him that no, she wasn’t tired yet.
“ Captain! Captain!” Benimaru suddenly heard someone shout as they went running through his house, the dark haired man turned and looked, it was one of his brigade members.
“ What’s going on?” Benimaru asked as Natsuki finally stopped squirming and looked at the man who was trying to catch his breath.
“ Captain, there’s two Infernal’s in the marketplace! I think it’s the old fisherman and his wife!” The man said quickly after he caught his breath, Benimaru nodded seriously before following the young man out of his house.
Benimaru knew he couldn’t bring his daughter with him as he went to take care of the Infernals, but as he looked at the younger members of his brigade, he didn’t trust them with his daughter. They were slightly nervous, sweat was collecting on their brows and their hands were trembling slightly.
“ Beni! Have you heard about the Infernals already?” Konro asked as he ran up to the younger man, Benimaru suddenly turned and handed Natsuki off to Konro.
“ I did and I’ll take care of it. While you take care of Natsuki.” He told him quickly before following behind the younger members of the brigade towards the market.
“ W-Wait Beni! Beni!” Konro shouted after his younger friend, but sighed as he was ignored. He looked down at Natsuki with a small smile. “ Looks like it’ll be just us for a bit huh?”
———
After Benimaru and his brigade took care of the Infrenals they began to rebuild what they had destroyed during the conflict. Benimaru had wanted to stay and help out, but his brigade members insisted he go home and be with Natsuki, that they could handle it and he could help out tomorrow.
Benimaru eventually gave in and slowly began to walk back to his home. It always took a toll on him whenever he had to put down an Infernal, especially when it was someone he saw on a regular basis such as the fisherman and his wife. He hoped that there would come a day where he would no longer have to do this, that he and his friends and family could all just live in peace without the worry of Infernals and Spontaneous Human Combustion.
As Benimaru finally made it to his home he was pulled out of his thoughts by a near whining noise, and as he looked up he saw Natsuki struggling against Konro’s grip.
“ Are you alright?” Konro asked as he stood up and walked over to his young friend. Benimaru reached out and took his daughter from him and held her tightly in his arms, which she reciprocated.
“ No. But I will be.” Benimaru muttered as his daughter wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, he almost wanted to laugh, it was as though she knew he needed a hug.
As he and Konro parted ways and Benimaru walked into his house with his daughter in his arms, he silently hoped that the day of peace would come sooner rather than later. For his daughter’s sake at least.
Another hour passed before his wife came home, she quietly announced herself before slipping her shoes off at the door. She silently walked into the house and saw her husband and daughter sitting together on the floor. Benimaru was holding Natsuki gently in his arms as he read her a story, and the two laughed at one of the passages he just finished reading.
“ You two look like you’ve had a productive day.” His wife said softly as she entered the living room, Benimaru smiled softly at his wife.
“ Yeah, it started out pretty rough, but we finally found our footing.” He told her as he glanced down at his daughter, who began to rest her head against his chest tiredly.
“ I heard about the Infernals…are you okay?” His wife asked as she crouched down beside him and gently moved some of his dark hair out of his face. She knew that he probably wouldn’t be okay for a long time, he always took these things harder than he would ever let anyone know.
“ I’m…I’m getting there, Natsuki’s been a big help.” Benimaru admitted quietly as the young girl in question closed her eyes and began to drift off into sleep.
“ I’m glad she was able to help,” His wife kissed the top of his head before reaching out towards Natsuki. “ Here I’ll take her to bed.”
As his wife reached out towards their daughter Benimaru moved her away and shook his head.
“ No, I'll take her to bed.”
“ But-.”
“ I’ll do it. Just sit down and relax, I’ll be right back.” Benimaru insisted as he stood up and carried their daughter towards her room as his wife watched them walk away with a fond smile on her face.
The two seemed to have bonded even more while she was away, which is exactly what she had hoped for.
———
Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you have a good day 🥰!
#fire force#enn enn no shouboutai#fire force fanfiction#fire force x reader#benimaru shinmon#shinmon benimaru#benimaru x reader#shinmon benimaru x reader#enn enn no shouboutai fanfiction#fire force benimaru#benimaru fire force
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i’ve never found the courage to talk about this anywhere else for the fear of knowing nobody is actually going to understand.
when i was 16, i met a 19 y/o man who was interested in me. at that point of time, i was quite vulnerable, my first boyfriend was in my class and was dating another classmate of ours. as a 16 y/o it was a terrible situation to be in really. receiving attention from an older male who was quite attractive and i knew for a fact had women his age interested in him felt real nice to me.
my ex and i had planned on having sex, together, for the first time but that didn’t happen. obviously in my teenage angst and stupidity i was sucked into a situationship with an older man (a 3 year age gap is actually huge at that age). now, i did technically consent to having sex with him (although one might argue that minors cannot consent, let’s ignore that for a moment). but when we were finally about to do it, i didn’t feel very good about it, i wanted him to stop. he started to kiss me, pin my hands up aggressively, just blocking any way i could let him know i was saying no.
at that moment, i just told myself there was no way he could’ve known i wanted him to stop. but in retrospect, i feel he blocked my no intentionally. this was also the first time i had sex, ever.
i did not have words to describe this experience, i still don’t. for months i did not even realise what was happening was not okay. he suddenly started to exhibit violent behaviours. and honestly, i was scared of him. he would break things around me, yell at me. i wanted to end things but was simply too scared to. often times i would initiate physical intimacy just to avoid his aggression even when i absolutely did not want to. he became overly possessive, and for the fear of his aggression, i started to avoid talking to men altogether. i started to convince myself that i liked this.
until, until one day things got out of hand. he had a problem with me interacting with someone i deeply cared about. i refused to comply and he hit me. i walked out of his apartment straight, blocked him, ended whatever was going on.
surprise surprise! my fears regarding him materialised. he would stalk me. i was so scared i stopped going for tuitions (big culture of after school tutoring where i live) which directly affected my performance in school. i used to go to school with a friend but i was so scared i started asking my parents to drop me and pick me up whenever i went to school, avoiding it on most days. all in all, i feared leaving my house at all.
i didn’t share this with my parents or anyone else (this is literally the first time i’m speaking up about this in details). i didn’t know what to say. later this man threatened me saying that if i do not meet him, he would leak compromised pictures/videos of me. i was almost sure he did not have any. i never consented to any recordings or pictures. i told him to fuck off. i knew he was bluffing. all said and done, i was still a minor and he was still an adult. whatever harm he could do to me and whatever satisfaction that would bring him wasn’t worth the trouble it could potentially land him in.
eventually he got tired and left me alone. i found out a couple of weeks later he was dating someone else. this girl was my age too. i wanted to warn her but i was to frightened to do anything that might trace me back to him.
i’m 22 now. i don’t think i have still processed this entire episode completely. i have tuned out a lot of my memories because it is simply too much to handle. i often confuse memories of sex with him with sex with my ex boyfriend as a coping mechanism of sorts. i only realised this when i once mentioned something to my ex boyfriend and he said but that never happened between us and honestly that petrifies me about what else i might be missing out.
i’ve never been able to share this episode in detail with anyone, even with my friends who were aware about me being involved with this man. i once tried to talk about this with my ex boyfriend but he dismissed me as soon as i started talking about it on the grounds that oh you’ve had sex with a lot of people and i haven’t (i haven’t either btw, idk why he keeps saying that. anyway it was also extremely irrelevant). i shut up.
(i feel so much better just writing this comprehensively. sharing this even with strangers on tumblr feels liberating in a lot of ways. i hope all of us women can heal from all the terrible things men have done to us)
#text posts#desi tumblr#radical feminism#radblr#feminism#radical feminist community#radical feminists do interact#radical feminist safe
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